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watchyourbluesturngolden · 3 years

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the shrooms cafe

part 1- watermelon tea with strawberry boba

hello everyone 🥺 this is the first series i've ever done so i'm a little nervous but i'm so excited because I really like this story!!!

this is the first part, and I have literally no idea how long it will be because I don't have a solid plan/outline yet! so feel free to send little concepts or things you would like to see included 🥺 i can't guarantee they will be added but i'll definitely try my best :)

shrooms cafe masterlist

my masterlist

warnings: none

word count: 2k

"Stella, we have to leave in 10 minutes!" You called up the stairs. "Come down so you can eat breakfast!" "Yeah Stella, hurry up!" Seraphina yelled from her spot at the dining table. She was finishing up her fruit loops with a grin on her face. "You're going to make us late!" As the youngest, she often liked to bother her sisters. She was only five, just starting kindergarten, but she was already a master at getting under their skin.

"Sera, don't antagonize your sister, please," you reminded her. "She's not going to make us late." Sophie rolled her eyes. "Seraphina, you're so immature." Despite only being 11, Sophie was clearly the mother hen. You sometimes joked that the girls didn't even need you; Sophie would take on the role of their mother with no problem. "Besides, you were the one who made us late yesterday." "It's not my fault I couldn't find my purple socks. What was I supposed to do?" "Maybe wear different socks?" Sophie suggested smugly. "You know I need my purple socks, otherwise I can't write my words!" Sophie rolled her eyes again. "You don't need a certain color socks to write." "Yes I do!" You smiled to yourself, turning back to the fridge as the two bickered. You pulled out the ingredients you would need to make their lunches, then reached up on your tiptoes to get their lunch bags from the top of fridge. "Okay girls, what kind of sandwiches do you want today?" "Peanut butter and jelly!" Seraphina said excitedly. "Why did I even ask?" You smiled. "And Sophie?" "Turkey please, but I can make it myself," She said, sliding off her chair and bringing the breakfast dishes to the sink. "Thank you, love," you said, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. "You are such a big help in the mornings, I don't know what I would do without you." "You would have a real handful dealing with those two," She said matter-of-factly. "That I would," you laughed, handing her a butter knife. "Stella!" you called again. The 8 year old came running down the stairs, carrying her backpack and another bag. "Did you forget I have dance today?" "I did not forget," you reassured her. She liked to plan things, and got worried quickly if she wasn't kept in the loop. "I'll pick you up at the door by the playground, does that work?" "Actually, I was wondering if I could walk today? A bunch of my friends do, and I feel kind of weird having my mom drop me off." "That should be fine," You nodded. "But stay with the group, don't go off by yourself." "I won't," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "You're so overprotective." "Oh yes, I'm so sorry for trying to keep you safe," you laughed. "Now what do you want for lunch?" Once everything was ready, the four of you made your way out to the car. Stella climbed into the back, and Sophie helped Seraphina get buckled. Even though the three of them bickered a lot (as sisters often do) it wasn't hard to see how much they loved each other. "Everybody buckled?" You asked, looking behind you. When you heard a chorus of confirmation, you started your playlist and smiled when the opening notes of Adore You filtered through the speakers. It was easily one of your favorite songs, and the girls liked it just as much as you did. It wasn't a long drive to the cafe; it took about 15 minutes if traffic was good. The girls' school bus stopped about a block away, so they walked there together every morning. Then after school, they would come back to the shop and read books or finish homework until it was time to close up and go home. You parked in the lot behind the shop, helping the girls out of the car and making sure they had all their things. Seraphina held out her hand, and Stella grabbed it to help her jump over a puddle on the sidewalk. Sophie gasped excitedly. "I think that was the biggest jump you've ever done!" The girls promptly launched into a discussion about who could jump farther as you unlocked the door. As soon as it was open, they made their way over to the mushrooms to find some books for the day. Their voices filled the shop as they chatted about school and the cute boy Stella liked and the kitten they had seen outside their house the other day. You went about your morning duties, flipping on the lights and starting up the coffee machine. You also turned on the oven, preparing to bake the muffins. (They were frozen- who has the time to bake them fresh? Certainly not a mother of 3.) Once the kitchen was ready, you went over to the radio and tuned it to a familiar station, the soft

music adding some pleasant background noise. "Okay girls, it's time to get to the bus stop," you said, leaning over the counter to speak to them. "Don't forget, I'm walking to dance," Stella said, pointing at you as she walked to the door. "I won't forget," you said, pointing back at her. "Have a good day!" "Bye mom," Seraphina waved her small hand at you. "Bye honey, bye Sophia," You smiled, blowing a kiss to the three of them. "See you later!" Once the three of them were gone, you went around to the shelves and straightened up, getting ready for your first customers.

-----

After the lunch rush had dwindled down and the shop was nearly empty again, you were getting ready to go on your lunch break. You had just leaned down to grab a sandwich from the deli case when the bell above the door jingled, alerting you that a new customer had come in. You straightened up, your eyes going wide when you realized who it was, but you quickly fixed your face and smiled. "Welcome to the Shrooms Cafe!" "Hello," the man smiled back, speaking in a deep British accent. "I saw your sign for boba tea, and I've been looking everywhere to find some. You're the third shop I've been to today, so I'm really hoping you're not sold out like everywhere else," he grinned, coming closer to the counter. "No, we're not out! What kind did you want?" You asked. "Um... probably should have thought about that before I came in," he laughed nervously, looking at the menu above your head. "Oh, don't worry about it, we're not busy right now," you said reassuringly. “Take all the time you need.” He smiled gratefully, stepping off to the side while he read the menu. Meanwhile, you fidgeted with towels and wiped off the work surfaces and tried to pretend you weren’t staring at him. Who could blame you, really? Harry Styles had just walked into your coffee shop. Who wouldn’t stare? “I think…” he spoke again, breaking you out of your trance. “I’ll do the watermelon tea, with strawberry boba, please.” You nodded, laughing lightly. He quirked one eyebrow, smiling along with you. “What’s funny?” “Oh, no, it’s just… of course you would order the one with watermelon.” “Oh,” he smiled, and you thought you detected a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I guess I do have a bit of a reputation with fruit, don’t I?” “Just a little,” you grinned. “One watermelon tea with strawberry boba, coming right up.” After ringing up the order, you quickly got to work. Instead of his real name, you wrote “watermelon man” on the sticker on the cup. Hopefully he would appreciate your little joke. “Here you are,” you smiled. “I hope it’s good, seeing as you worked so hard to find some.” “I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” he laughed, grabbing a straw from beside the cash register. You also noticed he had dropped a generous tip into the jar, probably while you had been busy making the drink. “Have a nice day,” you smiled. “You as well,” he said with a small wave before he made his way out the door, sipping his drink as he went. You sighed, shaking your head with a small grin as you grabbed the sandwich from earlier and went to a table for your lunch break.

-----

“Hi mom!” Sophie yelled, holding open the door for Seraphina. “Hi girls!” You called from the back corner of the shop. “I’m by the mushrooms!” The girls quickly found you, Seraphia hugging you and Sophie situating herself on one of the short stools. “How was your day?” You asked. “Good! I gave my report on monarch butterflies and guess what Mrs. Wilson said?” Sophie asked, leaning forward. “What did she say?” “She said it was the best report she had heard all day. She waited until the other kids left so they wouldn’t feel bad, but still,” she said proudly. “Oh wow! I’m so proud of you,” you said, moving over to hug her. “What did I tell you? You can do anything you put your mind to,” you smiled. “Including writing the best report in the whole class, hmm?” She nodded happily before turning away from you to pull a book off the shelf closest to her. “Which one are you starting now?” You asked, leaning over her shoulder to see the book she had. “Anne of Green Gables,” she said. “Oh, I loved those books when I was your age,” you smiled. “I think you’ll really like them.”

She nodded, already immersed in the book. You turned back to Seraphina, who was pulling her folder out of her backpack. “And how was your day, miss Seraphina?” “It was so good, look!” She handed you a paper with two gold stars at the top. “My teacher gave me two gold stars. She said my writing was very good!"

"All that practicing we did must have worked, then!" you said, beaming as you looked at her letters. They were still wobbly, but a huge improvement over how they had been at the beginning of the school year.

She nodded. "And then I colored this picture for you!” She handed you another page. This one had a drawing of you holding hands with her, Sophie, and Stella. The three of you had big smiles and lots of adorable little details. Stella had her hair in a bun and was wearing ballet shoes. Sophie was holding a book in her free hand. Seraphina had drawn herself wearing a shirt with a cat (her favorite animal) on it, and she was wearing her purple socks. Lastly, there was you, holding a cup of coffee and wearing a shirt with a big red heart on it. “Since you like coffee so much,” she explained. “It's beautiful,” you smiled, hugging her. “We’ll hang it on the fridge when we get home, okay?” “Okay,” she agreed. “Why don’t you find a book and read with Sophie for a little bit? We have just over an hour, then we have to go get Stella from dance.” She nodded, handing you the papers and her backpack before running over to the shelves. She grabbed a picture book, settling into the red cushion in the tree and beginning to flip through the pages.

----- “Alright girls, it’s time to pick up Stella,” you said as you wiped off the counter one last time. You had already turned off all the machines and packed up everything else for the day. You flipped the lights off on the way out, smiling a bit when you saw the hand painted sign for boba tea in the window. Harry came into your mind again, with his easy smile, his kind words, and his blushing laugh. You really hoped you would see him again, even though you knew you probably wouldn't. Your shop wasn't very big or well known. How likely was it for him to come to the same little shop in the middle of London again? Still, it didn’t hurt to hope. Maybe he would decide to try the other flavors and stop in again. Your smile spread even further when you started your playlist and Lights Up was the first song to come on. Apparently, it was going to be hard to forget about him.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles/you fanfiction #harry styles x reader fanfiction #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harrystylesxyou #harry styles x you fanfiction #harrystylesxreader #harry styles/reader #harry styles/you #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry fanfiction #the shrooms cafe

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joneryskingdom · 3 years

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He is stil sleeping when she awakens, sunlight shining through the white curtains of their canopy. Buried in the pillows, his curls a dark mess emerging from that immaculate sea of linen. He’s snoring, her sweet Jon, making sounds similar to the ones of a wolf in his den.

Dany stirs, washing away all the sleepiness. Near her, Ghost welcome the new day and his mistress, waving happily his long white tail.

«Good morning Ghost.» she says, petting him, caressing him between his fluffy albino ears. «Have you sleep well? Should we verified how is Jon today? Mmh?»

He’s still burning, from what she can tell by a kiss on his forehead. Pale, dark half moons of sleeplessness and exhaustion marking his eyes, drooling on the pillow. Luckily, the fever is not dangerously high, but she has to be careful. He particularly has to be careful with his body, not stressing himself too much.

Resting all the morning will heal him a bit, Dany thinks, kissing his warm forehead another time. He definitely needs it.

She will call Sam later for a visit, her husband’s health is important.

And the one of our little new entry too, she reminds herself, laying an hand on the cloister of flesh in which her, their, new baby dragon is growing.

A boy or a girl? Prince or princess? Only time will tell...

Around the breakfast table, the baby dragon’s siblings are chatting, an increasingly storm of discussions, clawing Daenerys’ ears. Any nausea hasn’t touching her yet, instead she’s hungry.

For her children kisses, for Jon’s healing, for this new babe. She cannot wait to hold him or her in her arms. And Jon! Jon’s reaction! She’s not sure he had listened last night, he was asleep after all. Well, today, if the Gods are kind, she would tell him. “You have to commission another cradle” or “I have a gift for you, close your eyes and touch me”.

An effect phrase, she wants him to be surprised.

Babe number eight, she counts, looking Aelionor eating her bacon in her exquisite regal manners - her septa is all praises for her - and the twins arguing over the last lemon cake remained on the silver tray a servant is holding. Daeron and Alysanne are identical, except for their sex.

Delivered on Dragonstone, just like her taciturn Daenys. She suspects there is a tribute in her name, Jon’s work behind it, not only an homage to the Dreamer and Dragonstone itself, the castle of their love, before and after their reunion beyond the Wall. Daenys and Daenerys, so phonetically similar after all.

The toddler is splashing her mush, seated in her high chair. Quiet, as always, Daenys, at two, doesn’t speak much, sometimes she doesn’t speak at all, tossing some High Valyrian words here and there. Instead, the septas who manage the nursery said she stare intensely at the flames roaring in the braziers and at the candles, that she listens fervently at the nighttime prayers of her brothers and sisters.

They were worried, her and Jon, after her first birthday and the last year has been a carousel of maesters and experts visiting their lovely girl, trying to obtain something more than the rare “Pa-pa” and “Mamma” or “Kepa” and “Muña”. She isn’t mute, they all have reassured the monarchs, telling them what their already know.

«Mama.» Rhaella draws her from her thoughts.

«Yes my dear?»

«It is true that beyond the Wall there mammoths? Dada says they are legends, he claims of having read it in a book.»

Daeron, bookworm since babyhood.

«Because it’s true!» Daeron replied in a lunatic rage. «It was in the library.»

«Mama’s and Papa’s library.» Jaehaerys, basically a clone of Jon, a skinny rascal, black curls and grey eyes and all. «I saw you...»

«He wasn’t stealing from it Mama I swear!» Daeron says. «I’m saying the truth. Of course, you have so many books...»

Aemon laughs. «You will marry a book at this point, mister know-it-all!»

«I didn’t saw any mammoth when I was with Papa beyond the wall my sweethearts.» Dany says. «But I have to tell you something.»

Silence. All pairs of eyes are on her.

«It’s a segret remember! Only I can I tell Papa about this.» She takes a deep breath. «Soon you will have a new baby brother or sister!»

Sam had examined her, but by this time she knows all the symptoms.

«You are preg-prenan-» Jae stumbles on the right word. «What was that?»

«Pregnant.» Daeron corrects him. «It means Mama has a baby inside her belly, but now the baby is small, like a peanut, right Mama?»

«Yes my dear sweetie, like a seed.»

Daenys suddenly exclaims: «Mammú!»

«A mammoth?» Rhaella jumps from her chair. «Have you seen a mammoth little sis?»

«Mammú» One finger is in her mouth, the other indicates at the entrance.

«Daenys saw a mammoth Mama!» Aemon joins his sister and partner in crime.

She already knows what mammoth and with a funny grin she says: «Well, I think you should chase him then.»

«Haunting party!» Rhaella announced.

And suddenly all the children are on Jon, laughing and climbing on him, on his marvelous and furry night robe, shouting, all excited. Pearls of laughter flourish from their mouth, all are playing with their papa, pretending he’s a giant mammoth.

And, judging by the noises he makes, he is playing along.

«You have caught me!» He surrenders, kneeling, faking his end. «Aaargh! All these children have caught me! Help!»

«Pups.» Dany calls them. «Out for a minute please, me and Papa have to talk alone.»

The door close, Jon comes to her.

«I’m hungry, what there is here, with which I could break my fast?»

«You should be in bed.» Dany hide her disappointment. «Resting.»

«I’m not tired, I told you.» He sits beside her. «And I have work to do.»

«Not today or tomorrow. Resting is all you will have to do. Sam will come soon, to visit you.»

«I’m not sick Dany.» he grumbles.

«You have a fever.»

«And with it? Being a little feverish means I am overworked?»

«Yes, my northerner fool.» They exchange a tender kiss. «Your health is well regarded by me. But, anyway...» she looks at time. «I have something to share with you.»

He is suddenly serious. «It is something-»

«Nothing bad my Dragonwolf, just that... do we have any baby clothes left?»

He doesn’t say anything and she is scares for his reaction. Didn’t he like the news?

«D-Do you m-mean you are...»

«Aye.» she teases him, using his pronunciation. «I am with child.»

Jon embraces her, it’s a possessive, protective and secluded embrace. Her nest, her house with the red door.

«It’s beautiful Dany, really beautiful... I-I’m... gods... another babe on they way... we’re fast at making them.» he jokes, caressing her belly. «Aren’t we?»

«I want many more Jon, many, many more.»

«A Red Keep full of squealing babes.»

«Yes.» she sniffles. «Isn’t a beautiful dream?»

«It will became real Dany.» His other hand is on her cheek. «I promise.»

He then talk to her belly, yes, he talks.

«Hey buddy, you don’t know me yet but I’m your Papa and I love you so much, both me and you Mama. So treat her well, understood?»

#daenerys targaryen #jon snow #jonerys #my king and queen #asoiaf #jonerys babies #jonerys fanfic #targlings #fanfic #game of thrones #asoiaf fanfiction

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

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Day 29, Post #2 by @maggotsstuff

Title: The Masterstroke

Author: maggotsstuff

Pairing: Ron-Hermione

Theme: A Friendship like no other/Bravery

Beta Credits: Two amazing person – Adenei and Folk-melody.

The sleepy stone corridors of the Castle of Durmstrang reverberated with the sound of heavy footsteps. The echo of the rhythmic pace pierced through the silence of several corners and passages until it came to a halt before an old wooden door. There was a gentle knock on the wooden surface, which was soon followed by a series of raps.

The din was answered by a slow and lazy creak of the hinges, followed by the dim light of a candle that floated in the air. The silhouette of a woman dressed in black robes and a black hood appeared at the door.

“Prince Draco! What business brings you here to my chamber at this hour? Could this not have waited until the daylight had shone?” she asked haughtily.

“Huh? Is this the way to speak to the future King of Slytherin, Ravenclaw?”

“My fault, Prince Draco. But your aunt, Queen Bellatrix is still the Queen of Slytherin.”

Draco became so pale that his face was almost the same colour as his silver blonde hair. The sentries escorting the Prince, who stood a few steps behind him, lowered their heads.

Draco’s face contorted with a scowl, which was smothered by the smirk playing across his thin lips.

“You are too smart for your own good,” Draco replied darkly. He didn’t wait for her reply as he paced back through the corridors.

Ravenclaw heard warning bells chiming inside of her. Draco certainly had not come to invite her for any midnight tryst. She hurried after him. The floating candle moved ahead of all.

The quartet marched through the long corridors and then through a small passage, which opened in a big hall that was decorated with a throne with a serpent headed backrest. Ivory chairs were arranged in rows at a distance from the throne on both of its sides. The tall walls of the hall had human heads affixed to them. It seemed that each head had a story of an atrocious death to tell.

At the far end of the hall, a flight of spiral steps was erected. The small procession halted there. Draco turned back and feigned surprise.

“Ah, Ravenclaw! Did you follow us until here? Am I so lucky that the mighty witch of my land has finally discovered the truth in my words?” he jeered, raising a silver blonde eyebrow of his at her.

“I cannot ignore the nephew of my Queen. If he cares to visit me at this hour he would certainly have urgent orders for this servant. I am waiting for your commands, Prince.”

“I am humbled that the mighty witch has expressed her desire to fulfil my wish,” Draco stroked her cheek over her black hood. She clenched her fist to resist herself from cursing him back.

“But tonight, your service is reserved for my aunt. You will regret wasting more of her valuable time. The fulfillment of my wish can wait until then,” Draco brushed his hand against hers.

Without another word or a second look, Ravenclaw glided over the staircase.

***

Queen Bellatrix lived in the innermost quarters of Durmstrang. Her chamber was decorated with exotic furniture and guarded by the Naginis. They were serpents with human heads and were her pets. The Naginis spiralled themselves on the way to her bedroom. They hissed at Ravenclaw. Their hisses were silenced as a tall woman with dark hair and heavy eyelids strode forward from behind a tapestry. Ravenclaw bowed to her.

"Welcome to my palace! Was my nephew good to you?" Bellatrix winked.

Ravenclaw did not want to bite her bait.

"At his best, my Queen." She tried hard to maintain a neutral expression.

Bellatrix snorted.

"I know you have much disdain for me and my actions. Yet you never fail me, Ravenclaw. Isn't it difficult for you to serve the same woman who wiped out your entire village, maybe even your family?"

"If you hadn't raided my village and stolen me from my family that day, the villagers would have killed me because they thought I was a curse to the village."

The Queen acknowledged with a nod.

Since the Queen was silent, Ravenclaw continued, "May I ask the Queen why she summoned her servant at this hour?"

"This is what I like in you. You're always in to business," Bellatrix laughed.

Ravenclaw stood silently. There was stony silence, which was soon broken by the Naginis' hisses.

"Alright, I take it that you don't want to have a friendly chat with me. Ravenclaw, tonight I dreamt of a knight."

Ravenclaw's eyes blinked in astonishment. She was not at all prepared to listen to the Queen's rendezvous with a knight in her dreams.

"The Vision," Bellatrix gestured towards a glistening mirror, "told me that he can give me the child who will help me conquer the world."

Bellatrix, who was pacing around Ravenclaw, stopped on her tracks and gauged her reaction. The witch kept on staring straight. Bellatrix handed over a scroll of parchment, several quills and an assortment of ink pots to Ravenclaw.

"I want you to paint me a picture of this knight. With your mystique powers you will tell me who he is."

***

Ravenclaw sat deeply immersed in her thoughts in the confines of her dingy room. Her companion of recluse, the black robes and the hood laid discarded in a corner. Eyes shut, she let her mind run free.

While she was at Bellatrix's palace, she had decided to safeguard the man from the evil designs of Bellatrix whose sketch she had unintentionally made. Soon after, her mind worked at the speed of light.

Bellatrix wanted to have him captured by her Dementors. She convinced Bellatrix that if the Dementors captured Ronald, Gryffindor would definitely know that Bellatrix had him kidnapped.

King James of Gryffindor was not on good terms with Bellatrix. (The relationship between the two monarchs had soured after she had executed Sirius, her brother and James’ friend, on charges of treason.) The king would encash the opportunity for a war because of this; Slytherin's army would not be able to sustain Gryffindor's warfare, she reasoned.

Instead of creating unwanted repercussions, Bellatrix could allow her to steal him away from Godric's Castle. No one would know as she would kidnap him through her magic.

Bellatrix's eyes gleamed with evil delight. The echo of her savage laughter still rang in the precincts of her mind.

Ronald — the valiant warrior of the kingdom of Gryffindor — the knight appearing in Bellatrix's dreams — the man with fiery red hair grown up to his shoulders, long nose and strong jaw, with arrogance in blue eyes — his eyes stirred the memory of someone far, yet so near, that someone who was always so kind to her, that someone whom she loved, whom she might still love. But Ronald was not him. Still….

"RONALD! We shall meet soon!" Ravenclaw thought aloud.

At Godric's Castle, which was miles away from Durmstrang, Ronald heard his flute piping out a syllable which strangely felt like his name. He hurried to the object which was staked in his old leather bag.

He shook his head in disbelief and unwittingly blurted out, "It's not possible!"

But a part of him still hoped.

***

Draco kept lurking around and pestered her for information about her meeting with the Queen. But as days elapsed, he gradually lost interest in the matter. Ravenclaw regarded that the time had finally arrived as Draco’s prying eyes were off her.

One moonless night she flew off to Gryffindor in quest of Ronald, the man with blue eyes. She flew hundreds of miles across rivers, forests and oceans, until finally she noticed Gryffindor's red and golden flag fluttering with the wind. Her tired body immediately recovered with a fresh surge of energy.

Ravenclaw hovered over Godric's Castle for a few seconds. To her relief there were no protective enchantments over the Castle. But the Castle was much bigger than Durmstrang. She decided to perch on top of a low tower until it was dark.

Ravenclaw chose a window as her hiding place which was hidden from direct view. When she crawled onto the panel, she was alarmed by the sound of a low cough. She crawled through the panel into the tower and found herself standing in a small bedroom and staring at an old dog.

"Fang!" she exclaimed. The dog ran towards her, barking with delight.

But, there was a rush outside and she hid herself under the simple four poster bed.

"Fangiekins! What's up," the entrant hollered. Fang pulled him to where Hermione was.

Down under the bed, Ravenclaw tried to control her breath. She knew it was him.

Ronald — Ron! What would she do now?

Before it was too late and Ravenclaw changed her mind, she exhaled through her mouth, emptying her two lungs. Right after her action, she saw Ronald's legs lose balance and before he tumbled onto the floor she withdrew herself from her position and helped him fall asleep on the bed. Fang fell asleep too. All she needed was to wait until dark to steal him away. She hid herself again under Ronald's bed, her mind wandering back to the alleys of Hogsmeade where she met Ronald for the first time.

***

Before darkness crept in, Ravenclaw came outside. She paused to stare for a moment at the tall man sleeping soundly in his bed and then set to work as fast as she could. She gathered ropes, leather straps, even iron chains that she found in the tiny room and strapped Ronald securely to his bed. When the Castle went silent, she levitated Ronald's narrow bed and with a little shove pushed it outside of the window. She fastened her robes to one of the four posters and flew away towards the land of Slytherin where Bellatrix was waiting for her prey.

***

Ravenclaw zoomed into her chamber with a sleeping Ronald on his four poster bed, through the open window of her chamber. The morning rays of sun followed her soon after.

No one noticed except a man with silver blonde hair who had patiently waited for Ravenclaw's arrival since her departure. He hurried towards the Queen.

Ravenclaw headed straight for her bathroom. She needed a bath and food for further functioning. But when she finished her bath and entered her room a hard punch on her head welcomed her, knocking her straight to the floor.

She laid on the floor trying to gather her wit when she saw Ronald's familiar pair of boots running past her. There was a thud and the door to her chamber swung open. She tried to crawl towards the door, but she felt too weak.

She heard Ronald. He kept on swearing. There was the sound of hitting, punching, kicking and cries of pain. Ronald roared.

Ravenclaw somehow managed to stand on her feet. She snatched a scarf, covered her face and hurried out of her chamber. Injured bodies of sentries laid scattered on the stone floor. She saw Ronald clutching Draco’s neck and suffocating him with his bare arm.

"Ronald! No! Please don't kill him!" Ravenclaw screamed. Ronald continued holding Draco’s neck but it seemed to her that he had relaxed his muscles.

"Bring him to my palace." Everyone who was not gravely injured turned with surprise to the spot from where Bellatrix's voice came.

"Well done, Ravenclaw. But your service is not over yet. Follow us to my palace," Bellatrix commanded. Ravenclaw obliged, forgetting that she was awfully hungry.

On their way to the hall, Draco sidled her.

"Why did you bother to save me from that beast?" he asked out of the corner of his mouth.

"Maybe because I hoped that you can do better than what you are," she whispered back. Draco became sober.

***

Bellatrix ordered all but Ravenclaw and Ronald to leave the hall. Ravenclaw furtively glanced at Ronald. He was still fuming.

"Follow me," she commanded while climbing up the stairs. Ravenclaw followed. But Ronald could not break the magical barrier and climb the staircase.

"My Queen, this is the magic of your ancestors. No man can ever cross this barrier and reach your chamber," Ravenclaw said concernedly.

"But you're a witch. Break the barrier so that Ronald can follow his destiny," Bellatrix demanded. Ronald frowned.

"Your ancestors' magic is far more superior than the feeble witchcraft I practice."

"In that case, I beseech the responsibility of his well-being upon you. My nephew Draco shall be commissioned for your assistance."

Ravenclaw understood the subtle warning. Yet, she felt relieved.

"Unlock any room nearby to your chamber and arrange for his stay. You can take him away now." With an air of finality, Bellatrix flounced away.

***

"Why am I here?" Ronald growled as he followed Ravenclaw through the corridors and passages.

"I am not supposed to tell you. Ask the Queen," Ravenclaw kept on marching forward without looking back at him.

Ronald let out an exasperated breath.

"You are the one who kidnapped me, aren't you? Not her. So you will tell me."

"I didn’t know you could be so naive, Ronald. If you haven’t noticed, I am a plain servant here and I work on orders. It's the Queen who decides," Ravenclaw's voice vibrated out shrilly.

Ronald was taken aback. They walked in silence for some time and then Ronald said grumpily, "I am hungry."

"So am I. I haven't eaten for more than twenty four hours. Besides, there was nothing to eat in your room at Godric's Castle and the stench in it was horrible," Ravenclaw barked.

She was listless. That was the first time after so long; she had a banter with someone and was thrilled about it.

"Now it is my fault that I don't keep food to feed my kidnappers!" Ronald retorted back.

Ravenclaw smirked. They kept on walking and reached the same point where Ronald had caused quite a stir some time back.

"This is where you will stay. I will send for some food if you are hungry. And behave yourself. Don't try to run away again. We have had enough of your nuisance," she said sternly.

"This is mental."

Ravenclaw heard him say before she left, and she felt butterflies fluttering inside her belly.

***

Almost a month had passed since Ronald's kidnapping. To Ravenclaw's relief, Bellatrix was yet to figure out how to let Ronald into her palace. The wizards she had summoned to break the jinx failed miserably in their mission. Bellatrix ensured that those wizards were punished adequately.

When Ravenclaw entered Ronald's room, he was lying on his small bed, blankly staring at the ceiling. He didn’t even stir when he heard the door to his room open and close.

"I just came to check on you," Ravenclaw tried to be as comforting as she could. He said nothing.

Over the past one month Ravenclaw had shared many details of her dark life and Ronald shared his experiences. They became much more civil to each other, if not friendlier.

"Look I never wanted to put you through this—"

"Bellatrix came here yesterday," Ronald blurted out.

Ravenclaw's palm automatically covered her mouth over her hood; her eyes popped so wide that it could have bounced out of its socket.

Ronald stared at her for a moment and then said, "You knew about her intentions, didn't you?"

Ravenclaw slowly nodded her head. She knew that he would now hate her forever.

"Then why did you bloody kidnap me?" he yelled.

"Or else she would have sent the Dementors after you. They are the worst kind of species. They would have plundered everything you had in Gryffindor and scarred your people for life," she screamed back.

"Huh, Dementors! As much as Bellatrix called you a brilliant witch who traced me out of her dreams, you failed to understand that I am not afraid of any mortals or demons. But since you wanted to become this angel," Ronald marked quotes in the air, "you could have spared me too. Why did you bring me here?" Ronald asked sarcastically.

"Because I was stupid and thought that I could protect you. Besides, I knew that Bellatrix's palace was forbidden for man. Her father, King Salazar, was a wizard and a blood purist. He cast those unbreakable spells so that no man of lesser blood ventures near her. And I knew you didn't have royal blood running in your veins. But I must admit that I didn't know Bellatrix well. I didn't think that she would keep you a hostage and…," Ravenclaw's eyes were downcast with guilt and she faltered.

"What if I refuse to oblige. Would my head be displayed on the wall of that scary hall?" Ronald asked, frowning.

"No. I will never let that happen. Tonight you will escape from Durmstrang. And you needn't escape through that tunnel underneath your bed." Ronald stood up in attention.

"You think I didn't notice," Ravenclaw said with a chuckle. Ronald deliberately bumped his head against one of the posters on his bed.

"Don't do this," Ronald snarled. "I don't want you to risk your life for me."

"You needn't bother about me. I'm tired of my life, anyways. People like Bellatrix keep me safe, but scar my soul. Your world will not take me back because of who I am," Ravenclaw turned away to hide the tears glistening in her eyes.

Ronald tentatively placed his hand over her shoulder. This was the first time he touched her in the past month of their acquaintance.

"You never asked me why I didn't kill your friend Draco when you asked me not to kill him," Ronald said gently. Ravenclaw turned around in surprise.

"The day you kidnapped me, I heard your voice coming out from the flute an amazing girl once gave me. She was a witch, but she didn't know that I knew. We seldom met. But I remember all the moments we shared together in the village of Hogsmeade," Ronald paused. Ravenclaw's eyes began to shed those unshed tears of years.

"One day she told me that she cannot be friends with me anymore. Rumors of her being a witch had already rippled through our village. I told her that I wanted to be friends with her no matter what. I would stand by her even if the gods were against her. She cried. Just like you're crying now."

He brushed his fingers against her tears. Ravenclaw closed her eyes.

"She gave me a magical flute and said that if she ever needed me she would call out for me through that. She had indeed called out for me on the day she vanished from her village. I went in search of her, but the entire village was in shambles," he hesitated and then added, "her family was murdered too."

"OH, RON!" Ravenclaw wrapped her arms around Ron's torso and buried her head into his chest and cried. He embraced her with equal passion.

They sat down together on Ron's bed. She craved more of Ron's warmth and comfort, which he was more than willing to give.

"What gave me away?" she asked softly.

"Your voice, Hermione!" Her body tensed at the mention of her name which she thought had died a thousand deaths already.

"You could have found me using your magic. Why didn't you do so?" Hermione could sense hurt in Ron's voice.

"I was in captivity, mind you. But after that I thought that you would never want to be my friend after knowing my truth," she said with a shaky whisper.

"From the day we met here, I wanted to say something to you, but couldn't sum up my courage—," Hermione covered his mouth with her palm before he could complete his sentence and said, "Say it Ron."

"That Ravenclaw is a stupid name and your costume is ridiculous," he chuckled.

Hermione punched his gut.

"Ouch! Hermione it hurts!" He gasped in pain.

"I can curse you and make you speechless," she threatened him with mock anger.

"I know you won't because, I — I wanted to say that I was and will always be yours," Ron whispered.

Words didn't seem enough to express what Hermione felt at that moment. She lifted her hood in one swift motion and kissed Ron's mouth. She was finally back with the one she belonged to.

***

Hermione braced herself to execute the plan of their escape that she and Ron had hatched. If caught, she knew both of them would face a gory end. Ron was, however, amused to find her so worried.

"Come on, love," he said, "I am the best commander of Gryffindor. I know the rules of the games. From what I could make out of the excellent details you have provided, we are on the right track."

We are on the right track—We are on the right track— She kept on repeating.

And then she found the person she was searching for — Draco. He was standing on the edge of an open terrace.

"Good Evening, Prince! Have you gotten tired of spying on me so soon?" Hermione cooed. Draco was startled. "And oh! Please don't let yourself stand on these edges. A sweet little shove could be fatal," Hermione murmured into his ears and smirked mischievously.

For a moment Draco was shocked at her audacity, but thereafter he composed himself.

"Why did you come here?" he grunted. "Are you not supposed to be guarding your captive?"

"Umm… the Queen herself guards him now."

Draco glanced at her sharply.

"Didn't you know why she made me kidnap him? She wanted to have an heir to her throne. The Vision told her that Ronald is the man who should father her child if she wanted him to be invincible."

Draco was gobsmacked. "And did she tell you all this when she summoned you?"

"10 points to you. At least you figured this out. Yes, indeed she told me. You should have known that he meant more to her than other men when she refrained from killing him after he created all that nuisance on his first day here."

Draco was staring at her in silence.

"But I pity you, Prince. After how she murdered your grandfather and your parents, you still believe that she will let you be the king of Slytherin."

"You are lying. My parents murdered my grandfather and she punished my parents for spilling the blood of their father. She brought me up like I was her own progeny," Draco countered.

"For a Prince, you have an intellectual range of a teaspoonful," Hermione snorted.

"What do you mean by that?" he growled.

"Your aunt staged everything. She didn't kill you because you're not capable of harming her while you're a kid. But times have changed."

Draco contemplated for a moment.

"But why are you telling me all these things? I have never been really good to you. In fact, my words only confirmed my not so good intentions for you," Draco said plainly.

"Like I said before, I believed you could be better. I always considered your behavior towards me as an act of spite. You said those things because you were jealous of me and wanted to rile me up. If I am not wrong you would have considered it to be a personal insult in laying your hands on the dirty knickers of a witch," Hermione said in a breath.

"What now?" Draco asked intrigued. He had dropped all his pretense and listened to Hermione with rapt attention.

"News is that Ronald is going to escape tonight. If I were you I would have never stopped him," Hermione finally made her move.

"I will not stop him. But who's going to stop Bellatrix? Her Dementors will find him from any corner of the earth," he stated matter of factly.

"Did you know how your grandfather was murdered?" Hermione asked.

Draco scowled and shook his head affirming his lack of knowledge.

"Bellatrix turned the Dementors against him. And from what I know, you have access to her palace being of royal blood. Bonus — the Naginis would not be very happy with her if they knew that Ronald does not have royal blood running in his veins, yet she had been pursuing after him."

"Ravenclaw, you are simply a genius. I would have actually married you if you were not a witch. What do you want in return? I will give you anything," Draco blurted out. His eyes were gleaming with pleasure.

"I want to leave Slytherin. No one should come hunting for me," she said boldly.

"Granted. Tonight you and Ronald can leave Slytherin, and no one from Slytherin will come after you. I will handle the rest," Draco announced.

"Fine. I take your word. Goodbye," she said.

"Ravenclaw, one final word. If Ronald does not accept you, you can still be the old witch of Slytherin," Draco sniggered.

Hermione left him without another word.

***

The death hour had arrived. Ron didn't agree to be flown away by Hermione. He wanted some action during his escape so that no one became suspicious of Hermione helping him. In case Draco ditched them and Ron was captured, he didn't want her to be tortured.

When it was dark, Hermione reluctantly let him crawl out of the tunnel he had dug out on the wall. She supplied him with all the ammunition he wanted. They kissed each other before he left promising to meet soon.

Hermione watched through her window as Ron dropped himself on the ground with the help of ropes suspended from the tunnel. He was dressed in the robes of sentries of Slytherin. After some time, she saw his silhouette riding a horse towards the entry gate. And then she saw the big gates ajar. Draco had ultimately kept his word. She heaved a sigh of relief. She watched until she could see his silhouette fading away in darkness.

Hermione swept her glance one last time all over her little room and then with a smile on her face leapt out from her window to fly away. She deserved to share her home with Ron. They had always belonged with each other.

***

The news of murder of Queen Bellatrix by her own pet Naginis spreaded like wildfire through Gryffindor. The king of Gryffindor, James, announced a feast for all his countrymen in honor of his dead friend Sirius, who was framed and killed by Bellatrix.

Hermione watched everyone making merry from the small quarters where both Ron and Hermione now lived together along with Fang.

Ron watched her golden wedding ring glisten under the sun. He tried to steal a glance of her content face as she examined her ring. As much as he tried to watch her smile, the cascade of her brown untamed hair teased him by causing hindrance.

In a way, her wild hair was like dark clouds in the sky, hiding away the brightness of the sun beneath them, he thought. In his case, it was the pleasure of experiencing the sweetness of her smile that her hair was robbing him off. Ron smiled. He was a goner.

Ron trudged towards the window beside which his wife was standing. He lightly grasped a fistful of her hair and kissed her neck. Hermione sighed. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling.

"Ermynee! You're so intoxicating. What have you done to me?" Ron breathed into her ears.

Hermione turned to face him. They kept on staring into each other's eyes.

"What did I do?" Hermione asked, raising her brows.

"I was a savage warrior. And now I am a moonstruck lover."

He pressed his hand against his heart and staggered backwards.

"But how could I help in this situation?" Hermione asked with mock dismay.

She flung her arms around his neck. He embraced her with fervor and crushed her chest against his.

"As much as I like your clothes, your skin suits you best," he hummed breathlessly, lacing his fingers in her hair. And then they kissed.

"I love you so much, Ron," Hermione murmured in between kisses.

"I love you more," Ron panted and smiled.

They kissed deeper and became hungrier. The anticipation of intimate touches became too much for both of them to bear. Ron pulled Hermione to their bed and worshipped every inch of her body with every inch of his until both of them surrendered to spasms of ecstasy.

Hermione smiled. She would never need those black robes and the stupid name with Ron around her. His love was enough to keep her safe.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest platonic #canon fest romantic #submission

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lassieposting · 3 years

Note

💘 for violent?

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

This got uhhhh really long whoops sorry

where they first met and how

Vile shows up to a battle Mevolent is fighting and just. Joins in.

Mevolent doesn't personally spot him, but several of his officers do - Vile has no colours on his armour, so they have no idea which side he's on, and he doesn't seem to care very much which side the men he's killing are on either. He's after the big prize - the Sanctuary general leading the opposing side - but anyone who gets in his way is fair game, no matter who they support.

One of Mevolent's men reports this after the battle is over, because it's strange enough to warrant a mention: the Necromancers have hardly left their temples in a hundred years, why is this one showing up now? Mevolent dispatches some people to round up the stranger and bring him in (which makes for a lot of very uneasy soldiers), but they find him loitering around outside the camp and he surrenders without a fuss.

When he's brought to Mevolent, Mev has had some time to bathe and get changed and is lounging around in a bathrobe with a glass of wine. He asks some questions, Vile answsrs them. Mev idly mentions that Vile seems very confident for a man who killed some of Mevolent's own soldiers - ordinarily, this would be something Mev would execute him for. But Vile tosses the enemy general's head at Mevolent's feet - ("Killed a few of theirs, too.") - and essentially prompts, do you want me on your side, or theirs?

Mev takes him.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

Actually - from the first time they meet.

At some point, Mevolent prompts Vile to take the helmet off - it's rude not to, how is he ever supposed to trust a man he's never seen? And Vile knows it's a risk, but he's also fairly sure Mevolent never saw Skulduggery Pleasant up close anyway, so he does as he's asked.

Mevolent lets himself have a minute to be shocked. He was expecting another Baron. But Vile can't be any older than Nefarian, which means he's absurdly young to have that much power. And he's pretty, even if there's something...a bit off...about him.

(His first thought is that he's talking to Vile's reflection. He dismisses it almost immediately, but he knows something isn't right. He doesn't know that he's picking up on Vile needing A Lot of practice to get his fake body to look properly alive; he's a bit too pale, keeps forgetting to blink, he's unnaturally still...it's all a bit uncanny valley.)

He starts flirting shortly after that. Just a little bit, to see if Vile leans that way or if he's visibly uncomfortable. He hooks up with China occasionally and has Serpine in his bed whenever he wants him, but he's always after something new, and Vile's arrogance and lack of deference is as refreshing as it is irritating. It's not love at first sight or anything though - all he's after is another notch on his bedpost.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

They never actually discuss it, they just sort of...accidentally fall into monogamy? Their relationship begins with casual sex, stress relief on Vile's side and a novelty (someone who regularly tells him no and makes him work for it) on Mev's. As they realise they actually get along very well outside the bedroom, it becomes more friends with benefits. But somewhere along the line, Mevolent stops and realises that he hasn't shared his bed with anyone else in over a year - and he hasn't minded. His primary hesitation over getting married to Serafina is whether consummating his marriage will upset his lover, when all that should matter is the political power and money she brings witj her. And he realises that somehow, without his noticing, Vile has become more important than Mevolent ever intended for him to be.

who proposes first

It's. Less a proposal, and more a discussion. Sometime after Serafina's death, Mevolent starts getting social pressure to marry again. Mothers are starting to fling their daughters at him at every opportunity because they all want to be the mother of the new queen. And he doesn't want to do it again, have another political marriage that will definitely cause problems between him and Vile. He's in a position of considerable power by this point and his inner circle has been made aware of his sins thanks to Serpine, so he decides that fuck it, he wants to go public with their relationship.

Vile lets him - on the condition that it's not a big public spectacle. So Mevolent combines their family crests (called "impaling") which is what happens with married couples - so instead of having a banner with Mevolent's crest hanging in the Great Hall, it would be half his crest and half Vile's, joined together in the same shield (escutcheon). He has to have a crest drawn up for Vile, of course, but it's a quiet way of making it Very Clear that he's off the market.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

They're a secret for the better part of fifty years. Mevolent is taking a big risk getting involved with a heretic, so he doesn't want to chance being open about Vile until he's completely confident in his victory and his power as ruler of the world. Vile is absolutely fine with this arrangement - not because he cares what people think, but because it's court custom to fawn over Mevolent's favourites to try and curry favour with him, and being the highlight of a social event is Vile's idea of hell.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? )

Nothing quite that romantic. Mevolent is over 1000 years old, and in ancient Ireland, if a couple decided they were married? They were married. There was no need for a ceremony or vows or a priest involved. They might announce it to a few witnesses, just to make it Extra Valid, but even that wasn't necessary.

That had changed quite a bit by the time Vile was born, but if Mevolent says something is legal, it's legal, because who's going to stop him? And he knows that's preferable to Vile, because he hates being the centre of attention. The sort of big extravagant ceremony he had when he married Serafina would have Vile running for the hills.

It's not valid in the eyes of the church, of course. Vile is a heretic - the church barely considers him human. It takes balls to say no to Mevolent, and it's not usually a wise idea, but that is just a little bit too far for the Faceless Priests, and they turn him down.

(He accepts it with good grace once he realises they really won't be pushed. Convincing Vile to say vows in a church of a religion he finds ridiculous would be. A Challenge™ anyway. He's learned to pick his battles over the years.)

Once they've decided "okay, we're in this for the long haul, guess we're married now" Mev takes off to one of his summer palaces for a month to "supervise repairs" and takes Vile with him "as a bodyguard", which is common enough that nobody bats an eyelid. They're long since back from their honeymoon by the time anyone realises that's what it really was.

if they adopt any pets together

Mevolent, like any self-respecting monarch, keeps horses.

Animals can sense death, so Vile is unsettling to them by nature. But he spends so much time around them that they eventually get desensitized to him. He's been a big rider all his life, surrounded by horses and riding and hunting since infancy, and he knows a lot about all things horse.

Mevolent starts feigning interest in the horses when he's trying to get Vile into bed, as an excuse to run into him and start talking. But he was born a peasant, raised a slave, and has only ever really seen the horses as a status symbol, proof of how far up he's come in the world, so he's not prepared for...quite how horsey real gentry can be. He tries to start a casual chat about maybe breeding this stallion with that mare, complete with a clever double entendre about how sometimes couples who don't look all that compatible on the surface have the most explosive chemistry, flirtily asks what Vile thinks, and Vile...infodumps all things horse-breeding at him for four hours straight. Which was not what he was expecting, but the enthusiasm is actually pretty endearing.

who’s more dominant

The short answer: Mevolent.

The long answer: It's complicated.

In bed, Mevolent dominates because Vile lets him. He gets off on the power exchange, microdosing the subby side he had as Skug by handing control over to someone he trusts not to hurt him. It's also part of how he tries to deal with his trauma - subconsciously reenacting having his control forcibly taken away when Serpine was torturing him (by willingly ceding it to Mevolent) but with a different, more enjoyable result. He still makes Mev work for it, though - he won't just roll over without a playfight first. That's part of the fun.

Outside the bedroom, their power dynamic is all over the place. Mevolent is Vile's boss. Vile is Mevolent's bodyguard. Mevolent is 600+ years older. Vile has been through hell and takes no shit from anybody. Mevolent is Vile's benefactor, as a heretic living in a theocracy that would burn him alive again. Vile is the most powerful Necromancer in known history.

It's a constant struggle for control between two very dominant personalities, and they thrive on it.

who’s more protective

They both have shades of this, even though they know the other can handle himself.

After the war is more or less over, and the affair is still going strong, Mevolent essentially assigns Vile to be his bodyguard. It's a good excuse to be together all the time, but Vile takes it seriously, and he's good at it. He's the one who warns Mevolent about Aby's assassination plot, and he also foils Serpine's bid for Mevolent's throne - he might have gotten the better of Mevolent alone, because he took him by surprise, but Mev and Vile fight as a team and cover each other's weak spots, so once Vile arrived, Serpine had to cut and run.

Mevolent is protective too, but he's less sensible about it. He sends Vengeous to investigate the draugar, even though Vile would've been the obvious choice - if nothing else, he has the ability to shadow-walk out of danger, which Mevolent would've known would be useful. But he sent Vengeous in blind, and took Vile to safety instead. On top of that, Vengeous is methodical and organised in a way Vile could never hope to match - he actually would've been more useful to Mevolent during a large-scale evacuation, just as Vile is perfect for one-man in-and-out recon missions. But keeping Vile safe was more important.

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

Vile joins Mevolent in early 1854, they first have sex in late 1854 and first sleep together while Vile is recuperating in early 1855.

Mevolent marries Serafina in 1856, so their early years are full of drama.

if they argue about anything

"But really, do you think the gods will punish me for this [relationship]? Oh, stop laughing. I'm serious."

"Perhaps? How tragic. No Faceless heaven for you. Not that you'd enjoy it anyway. Nobody will fuck you once your face is all melted. You wouldn't cope."

"Do you have any idea how tempting it is sometimes to just have you executed?"

"Then nobody would be fucking you in this life either."

(They've been having this argument for 200 years.)

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. )

When they're really going at it, Mevolent tends to leave little finger-bruises where he's been holding Vile up or pinning his wrists. Vile is the one who leaves scratchmarks. And he actually bites - mostly Mevolent's bottom lip, when he's pissed off about something. Mev doesn't mind though - if they're in the mood for rough, they both enjoy a good power struggle.

On a soft day, it's just hickeys from both of them, but Mevolent also gives Vile several sigil tattoos, so (aside from the fact that they're invisible until they're used) he definitely leaves more marks.

who steals whose clothes and how often

Vile - mostly to doss around their rooms in when he can't be bothered to get dressed or they'll be fucking again shortly so there's no point. He also steals Mevolent's shirts and robes if he's injured - the good thing about having a partner so much bigger than you is that everything is baggy as hell. Perfect for hiding bandages or not chafing a healing wound.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? )

Vile's a burrower. He likes to get as close as he can, to steal as much body heat as possible, and bury his face in Mevolent's chest/neck/shoulder. It's a leftover thing from Serpine's dungeon - protecting his face while he snatches at sleep so he can't be woken by a sudden kick or punch to a vulnerable area. He's also that horrible gremlin partner who will use Mev's skin to warm his cold hands/nose/feet on.

Mevolent often absentmindedly plays with Vile's hair while he's waiting to fall asleep, just as something to do while he's thinking over anything he has to do the next day, etc. So he'll doze off with one hand tangled in the curls and the other resting on a hip or thigh or back.

what their favourite nonsexual activity is

They have A Lot in common. They're both big readers, they both like tactical games like chess, they spar together and teach each other battle tricks, they both like to ride, they both enjoy music and poetry and culture. They're also that couple who like to be antisocial together - Mevolent will get on with his paperwork at his desk, and Vile will be on the couch with a book, and they'll sit there in silence together for hours, just being companionable.

how long they stay mad at each other

Long enough for angry sex. That's usually how their fights get worked out.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

Mevolent got a taste for green tea while he was campaigning overseas during the war, and still prefers it now. Vile drinks a bitter black atrocity, and anyone with sense won't speak to him until he's had at least one in the morning.

if they ever have any children together

I do have an AU where Mevolent decides he does actually want an heir, and they end up raising Caisson together - or rather, Mevolent raises Caisson dubiously assisted by Vengeous and Serpine, and Vile claims hs wants nothing to do with "the brat", but can't help sticking his nose in every five minutes because he has residual Dad Instincts and Mevolent is doing it wrong. Any family where Lord Vile is the responsible parent is probably not going to churn out a particularly well-adjusted child, though.

if they ever split up and / or get back together

Nope. They go into it as a casual thing, very much expecting it to fizzle out once one or both of them has had their fill. Two hundred years later, they're still together.

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

A very grand, opulent goth baroque palace. Mevolent spent a lot of his youth in medieval France, and he was highly influenced by extravagant court style. He likes to be surrounded by beautiful things, and his home is no different.

(Yes, material wealth is a sin. No, he's not sorry.)

He likes rich, dark colours and fabrics, ornate furnishings and dark wood and disturbing religious artwork. He also indulges his own vanity every now and then by commissioning religious artwork of himself - including an exquisite stained glass window in the Great Hall, which Vile scoffs at for a year or so and then gleefully flings Abyssinia through.

Most of the day to day running of Mevolent's household is down to a small army of servants, which poses some problems for him early in his relationship with Vile. A maid will slip into his room early in the morning to light the fire so that the room has time to warm before he has to get up for morning prayers. Another servant delivers his breakfast, and for quite some time he has a valet who helps him dress. Any of them could see Vile in his bed and let the secret out.

Luckily for Mevolent, for all his faults, he's a good boss to work for. He knows all the servants he interacts with by name, and asks after their families. He's well-liked, and although the servants know about Vile a long time before Mevolent's inner circle, it's Serpine who spills the beans, not one of the workers.

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? )

They have a rather warped version of a regular date night.

When Mevolent is interrogating Valkyrie, and she thinks she hears Skug coming to save her, three things are really notable:

1) Mevolent knows those footsteps too, and he smiles when he hears them. So not only is he happy to see Vile, this is probably something they do at least semi-regularly - interrogating interesting or high-profile prisoners together. Either Mevolent sent for him, or he knows Vile is too curious to not come look in on an interrogation.

2) The fuckin? Horny shadows? Mevolent has just died a violent death here, Necromancers are confirmed to be able to sense the lingering echoes of death and pain and anguish, and Vile's shadows are like mmmm tasty. This is where the headcanon comes from that he's rabid horny for recently-resurrected Mevolent. And Mev knows he does this, just soaks up all that energy, and he doesn't care. Love is letting your SO get a bit high on your agony vibes every day, I guess?

3) Vile comes to stand right beside the throne, without so much as a hello. This is...considerably more informal than the relationship Mevolent seems to have with Vengeous. In fact, for some reason Mevolent seems to treat Baron very unkindly in Leibniz - Vile is still very much a general and Mevolent's personal bodyguard, but Vengeous has been demoted to prison guard in all but name. When Mevolent starts investigating the draugar, he sends Vengeous into a situation that will very likely kill him, but takes Vile - the most powerful Necromancer alive and a living nuclear bomb of power - with him when he evacuates the city and flees for safety, even though the logical move would've been to reverse those assignments. Vengeous is clearly not personally close with Mevolent, but their synchronicity, constant proximity and the way others speak about them (like Serpine's lapdog comment) imply that Vile is.

This is actually the scene that made me start shipping them in the first place.

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

Vile isn't a great sleeper - he has nightmares, and he'll often get up several times in the night for water or to go onto the balcony for fresh air or to quietly freak out in the bathroom for half an hour. But he sleeps better once he's sharing a bed with Mevolent. Mev generally runs hot, and he actually quite likes to be close, so he's A-OK with Vile burrowing into his side or under his arm and leeching all his body heat. When he's warm and feels safe, he has fewer nightmares, and he's more likely to get a decent amount of sleep.

Mevolent doesn't always wake first, but he does get up first: he goes to morning prayers, and leaves Vile to sleep in because he's a rotten little heretic.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

Mevolent is the big spoon. Vile was freakishly tall for most of the centuries he's been alive - the average height of an enlisted soldier in the 16th/17th centuries was 5'5 - 5'6, and 25% of recruits were under the required height to use a musket (5'). So having someone he can sprawl out over who makes him feel small and protected is a novelty.

who hogs the bathroom

Vile. He has long-ass baths because he likes to nap in the warm water. He gets cold easily because he's technically dead and making his fake body thermoregulate takes focus he often just doesn't have, so he just sprawls out in a hot bath or in front of the fire like a fuckin lizard under a heat lamp

who kills the spiders / takes them outside

The servants. They live in a palace. There's an entire staff dedicated to cleaning and tidying and keeping the entire massive building shipshape. Neither of them have to lift a finger.

#skulduggery pleasant #violent #the bad boy brigade #long post #sp headcanons

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tintind · 3 years

Text

TW: violence, politics, Belarus

We have been under occupation for three months now. It is difficult to call it anything else, although some people may find the comparison too exaggerated.

What is going on?

This art shows two poets and political activists of the last century. Aloisa Pashkevich (aka Tsetka) from Belarus and Lesya Ukrainka from Ukraine. It is not known whether they met in life, but they are contemporaries and both fought for the freedom of their peoples.

Fourteen years ago, protests raged in the capital, my mother participated in them. I was only five years old at the time, and I don't remember anything except the day when a policeman came to our house to find out where my mother was. I didn't know what was going on. Our opposition wanted to call the events of 2006 “the denim revolution”, but then Lukashenka remained in power. In twenty-six years, our President has changed the Constitution three times, and thanks to the falsification of the results of referendums, he has almost absolute power, like a monarch de l'Ancien Régime. In fact, according to psychiatrists, Lukashenka has a mosaic psychopathy. He is a pathological liar and an adherent of the ideas of communism. But not that communism, which is for a bright future, but one that eliminates and intimidates all dissenters.

Everyone in the government lies. The Ministry of health is lying about the covid-19 situation (they even lied about the flu for years). The Central election Committee is lying about the election results. The Ministry of internal Affairs is lying about the number of protesters. There are no independent institutes of sociology in our country.

The Constitution proclaims freedom of Assembly. At the same time, there is an article in administrative law "on violation of the procedure for holding mass events". It does not provide for punishment for mass riots, according to it you will be convicted for standing silently with a placard or flag. You will be arrested for 15 days for wearing "political color" clothing or for having a photo of you eating white-red-white marshmallows. This is not a joke. These are real stories. You will be arrested.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A friend of mine is under arrest right now. I was very afraid that I would harm him by writing a letter. All correspondence is read. Yes, it's illegal, but they don't even hide it.

Over the past three months, about 30,000 people have been convicted under article 23.34. This is like one small Belarusian city, for example, Dzerzhinsk. In the first days of the protest in August, forty people were held in cells for six.

From the ninth to the twelfth of August were the worst nights of my life.

We have passed the point of no return. Special forces shot an unarmed man.

During these three months, seven people were killed by the security forces. The last of them — a young man of 31 years old, saw unknown people in civilian clothes removing ribbons of national colors from the fence, and he came out to ask why they do it. He was beaten and taken in an unmarked car to the police station, where he was admitted to the hospital. He died without regaining consciousness. His last words in the chat were "I’m going out." He was sober, he didn't get into a fight first. He went out into the courtyard of his house.

Authorities call the criminals "concerned citizens" and claim that Roman--that was guy's name--was drunk and provoked them.

According to the authorities, a little more than a hundred police officers were injured by the actions of the protesters. What injuries do they have? They say someone's spine was broken. But doctors only know about a couple of wrist sprains from working too hard with a baton. While the protesters took off their shoes to stand on the bench and collected garbage behind them, the police smashed the glass doors of the cafe.

State TV channels talk about some protest coordinators who pay people 30 euros for each march, but the police arrest not these coordinators, but journalists who are just doing their job, telling about what is happening. It is illegal to be an independent journalist in Belarus. Even if you wear a vest that says "Press", you will be arrested. This happened to a friend of mine last weekend. She doesn't have a camera anymore.

Equipment is rarely returned, but there are a lot of broken smartphones in the stores of confiscated goods.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After three terrible August nights, people are also being beaten again.

Verbal humiliation. Menaces. Beatings. Rapes.

Tortures.

Women are beaten on their stomachs to they "do not give birth to zmagar(protesters) scum". In August, a girl lost a child to torture in a pre-trial detention center. Recently, a pregnant woman was sentenced to 20 days in prison.

Beatings. Rapes.

Policemen break men’s arms, legs, break their heads, rape them.

People are forced to stand on the street for hours without moving. They are denied medical care, saying that they are malingerers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If they hear that you speak Belarusian (in Belarus!), they will mark you with a cross, which means that you can be beaten more than others. In August, marks were placed also on people without documents and those with "non-white" appearance. Our authorities decided to commit genocide. They don't fully understand it themselves, but violence against people who speak a certain language is a genocide.

Almost 500 cases of documented tortures were brought by the internal authorities in zero criminal cases.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mass repressions can be less violent there. Students are expelled from Belarusian universities for participating in protest actions. One of my close friends left for Lithuania because he was expelled despite his good academic performance. Private businesses are being shut down under the yoke of sanctions. They force representatives of the IT-sector to leave. Doctors are being fired.

Yes, that's right. In the midst of the pandemic, they fire doctors.

The country's borders are closed to entry. For some time, even Belarusian citizens were not allowed to go home (and authorities still threaten them to not let them in). The gouvernment demanded to reduce the number of employees of Polish and Lithuanian embassies in order to make it more difficult for Belarusians to obtain a Schengen visa.

Sometimes I feel like I'm living in a concentration camp. Especially when the city is blocked on weekends, the metro is closed and the Internet is turned off. You can’t walk where you want. You are in danger to be beaten for no reason. You can’t be safe in your own home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But we continue to protest. We continue to demand our voice be heard. We're going out.

And we will definitely win.

#belarus protests #жывебеларусь #хаха я тут живу #longread #mention of violence #mention of torture #belarus #election in belarus #lesya ukrainka #цётка #леся українка

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joannalannister · 4 years

Text

Anonymous asked:

Hey there, Lauren! I love your blog and metas! I have a question for you, in terms of the book, could you tell me when and where Daenerys shows signs of being a tyrant or a fascist? I see lots of metas say that she is, but from what I've read, I don't see any signs of that? Sure, she kills her enemies, but what powerful monarch doesn't? I just feel like the fandom has a very biased and double standard hatred when it comes to her, and I would like your opinion! Thank you!

Before I answer your question, we need some sort of working definition of fascism. To achieve this, I would like to quote a disabled person who helped lead the fight against fascism for years, and who died in the line of duty:

Over a year and a half ago I said this [...]: "The militarists in Berlin, and Rome and Tokyo started this war, but the massed angered forces of common humanity will finish it."

Today that prophecy is in the process of being fulfilled. The massed, angered forces of common humanity are on the march. They are going forward [...]

We will have no truck with Fascism in any way, in any shape or manner. We will permit no vestige of Fascism to remain. [...]

In every country conquered by the Nazis and the Fascists, or the Japanese militarists, the people have been reduced to the status of slaves or chattels.

It is our determination to restore these conquered peoples to the dignity of human beings, masters of their own fate, entitled to freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom from want, and freedom from fear.

We have started to make good on that promise. I am sorry if I step on the toes of those Americans who, playing party politics at home, call that kind of foreign policy “crazy altruism” and “starry-eyed dreaming.”

--President Franklin D. Roosevelt, July 28th, 1943 Fireside Chat

What did the fascist Nazi Party stand for in WWII?

Historically, there was no Nazi Party apart from their racial and social agenda. It was a party founded on racial distinctions, with a vision to dramatically transform their society. The Nazis disliked and persecuted anyone who they did not consider Aryan. They persecuted and killed Jewish people, homosexuals, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and communists, and they wanted to eliminate people with mental or physical ailments. The Nazis pushed women out of the workplace and actively promoted patriarchy. [x]

But where does GRRM come into this?

I wasn’t a complete pacifist; I couldn’t claim to be that. I was what they called an objector to a particular war. I would have been glad to fight in World War II. But Vietnam was the only war on the menu. [x]

GRRM’s ethical views are at their clearest and most concise while discussing slavery and dehumanization in his (most excellent and highly recommended) vampire novel, Fevre Dream:

I never held much with slavery […]. You can’t just go… usin’ another kind of people, like they wasn’t people at all. Know what I mean? Got to end, sooner or later. Better if it ends peaceful, but it’s got to end even if it has to be with fire and blood, you see? Maybe that’s what them abolitionists been sayin’ all along. You try to be reasonable, that’s only right, but if it don’t work, you got to be ready. Some things is just wrong. They got to be ended.

Some things are worth fighting for. Fascism requires opposition, some form of opposition, or it will steamroller all over you.

My regret now is not that I stayed my arm, but that I remained aloof in my window while others protested peacefully outside. It would be naïve to think that those marching in neo-Nazi parades could have a change of heart from such efforts, but I am more concerned with those who are not marching for anything. We must convince the apathetic to care, and stop those who are walking down the path of hatred before it becomes too late.

--David Olin, The View from My Window, Berkeley 2018, written for the Elie Wiesel Foundation for Humanity

Now, let me apply this to ASOIAF piece by piece.

In every country conquered [...] the people have been reduced to the status of slaves or chattels.

This is Tywin. This is Tywin enslaving people as part of his militaristic campaign of aggressive force in the Riverlands. This is Tywin sanctioning the capture and torture of innocent people. This is Tywin “using” other kinds of people and disregarding the fact that they are human beings. This is Tywin enslaving Arya Stark. This is Tywin impressing people to work in his gold mines on a whim, as we learn in AGOT. This is Tywin reducing people to the status of slaves or chattels. This is Tywin.

I don’t know how many different ways I can say it, but as I’ve said before and will say again: Tywin is the character in the ASOIAF books who most prominently espouses fascist ideology.

There are other characters in the main series -- Roose Bolton and Randyll Tarly, for example -- who also exhibit characteristics of fascist ideology, but I would argue that it is Tywin who is the fascist poster boy of ASOIAF ... and it is also Tywin who is one of the main villains who is drawing humanity’s attention south away from the true threat of the Others, who wish to turn every living thing into their slaves and playthings. (Littlefinger also comes to mind.) Tywin is an unwitting general in the Others’ army. Tywin is fighting the Others’ Campaign of Dehumanization on their behalf.

The Nazis disliked and persecuted anyone who they did not consider Aryan.

Substitute “Aryan” for “Lannister” and this is Tywin. “a Lannister, and worth more.” It is Tywin who pushes an agenda of Lannister superiority and it is Tywin to whom non-Lannisters aren’t human, to the point that he had to marry his own cousin. He dislikes non-Lannisters so much he had to marry his own cousin!!!! It’s Tywin who passed down his obsession with blood purity to his children to the point that they literally have to fuck each other. It’s Tywin who puts his House (a proxy for his race) above the individuals in it; it’s Tywin who doesn’t care if Cersei and Jaime and Tyrion are ground to dust under his disgusting ideology as long as House Lannister reigns supreme.

"Spice soldiers and cheese lords," his lord father called them, with contempt.

This is Tywin.

Non-Lannisters aren’t fully human to Tywin. This is fascist ideology!!!!

It was a party founded on racial distinctions

This is Tywin and Kevan, refusing to allow the Westerlings to marry into their family because of “doubtful blood”!!!!! (”Ser Kevan seldom had a thought that Lord Tywin had not had first.”)

It was a party founded on racial distinctions

This is Tywin and his refusal to allow a betrothal between Jaime and Elia.

they wanted to eliminate people with mental or physical ailments.

This is Tywin and his hatred toward disabled Tyrion. This is Tywin and his refusal to allow a betrothal between Jaime and disabled Elia.

The Nazis pushed women out of the workplace and actively promoted patriarchy.

This is Tywin. This is Randyll hating on Brienne of Tarth. (And you can bet your ass Tywin doesn’t approve of women with swords.)

I don’t know how many ways I can say it: Tywin and others like him are the fascists.

Tywin is one of the cold fucks the AGOT prologue warns us about in the very beginning: “the real enemy is the cold.”

The central conflict of ASOIAF is between the living (the fire) and the dead (the cold), those who would recognize your humanity and those who won’t.

It is our determination to restore these conquered peoples to the dignity of human beings, masters of their own fate

^^ This is Daenerys Targaryen ^^

Daenerys Targaryen is a freedom fighter who kills slavers in the books.

Her breakup of the economic system of Essos (meaning SLAVERY) is more akin to a communist revolution than a fascist takeover imo. Daenerys associates herself with people of all races, all classes. She gives Missandei, who canonically has dark skin in the books, a place as one of her closest advisors. Unlike Tywin, Daenerys is not pushing an agenda of Targaryen superiority.

Daenerys is not perfect. She does not always get it right. Daenerys has got some things wrong. But I don’t think there has been any other option for Daenerys. You ... you can’t just look the other way when evil men are crucifying children, and I truly do not think that non-violent opposition would change anything in Essos. “Better if it ends peaceful, but it’s got to end even if it has to be with fire and blood, you see?”

Sometimes innocents like Hazzea have died on Daenerys’s journey.

And I fully believe that more people are going to die in TWOW, and that Daenerys will hold herself responsible, whether she is or not. I know that TWOW will give all the antis of every character a lot of ammunition. TWOW is going to be a dark and depressing book.

I think that Daenerys is going to reach a very low point in TWOW, just as Tyrion is nose-diving in ADWD, but I think that’s just what GRRM does with his greatest heroes. It’s the moment in a movie when the hero falls off the cliff, and the Evil Villain starts cackling maniacally and you think all is lost, and then you see the hero’s hand reach up over the edge and the music crescendos as the hero pulls himself up. Except the real villains that GRRMs heroes are battling are themselves. The cliff is a metaphor for our darkest impulses.

Characters tell Dany in AGOT that “she is nothing” but Dany’s story is about proving them wrong. It’s about her finding her own dignity and worth as a human being out on the Dothraki Sea, and becoming the master of her own fate. As her story progresses, she helps others to do the same, helping people to rediscover their dignity, to regain their names (or take new ones), to find the humanity that was stolen from them.

(This is why it’s so important to me that her story intersect with zombie!Jon, so that she can help a dead man remember what it is to be human and remember why it all matters. Because if none of it matters ... if a man can’t find a fuck to give, well, that’s Tywin Lannister, who was a cold dead man long before Tyrion shot him.)

I brought up FDR in the beginning of this post. Although FDR died before GRRM was born, he was one of the great American cultural figures of the 20th century and I have no doubt FDR’s legacy was a formative influence on GRRM. And that’s the thing - so many of these, these great American cultural figures of GRRM’s life died before their work was completed: FDR, JFK, MLK, so many others... The promised land is somewhere ahead of us, despite the opposition making accusations of “crazy altruism” and “starry-eyed dreaming.” No one is going to drive us there and drop us off; we have to get there by ourselves, and the journey isn’t an easy one. It’s a place we have to keep striving for, working for. A dream of spring...

It’s not Daenerys’s destiny, I think, to rule humanity in the long term; Dany’s destiny is, I think, to make sure that humanity doesn’t, well, lose their humanity. To make sure that humanity doesn’t fall into eldritch slavery.

The Others would make us automatons in their icy, inhuman regime. The Others would steam-roller all over humanity, and take away humanity’s freedom to choose, as Tywin Lannister tries to do to his children, trying to take all of their choices away and control them completely. The Others would take away our self-determination, our freedom to choose good or evil, our freedom to be the rulers of our own fate.

I don’t think it’s Daenerys job to be a ruler in the end. I think she’s fighting evil now so that other people can keep fighting that good-and-evil “human heart in conflict with itself” fight long after she’s gone ... I’ve never believed in a “Targaryen restoration” ending although I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to it.

Like Moses, Daenerys won’t lead us into the promised land ... we have to get there ourselves.

And I’ve strayed from your question into a topic that’s more interesting to me because I cannot fucking belieeeeeeve that you are even asking me if the compassionate, caring, teenage-girl, sexual-abuse-survivor, messiah-figure Daenerys Targaryen is a fucking fascist when everything Daenerys “the fire is mine” Targaryen does is in narrative opposition to Certified Fucking Fascist Tywin Racist Lannister oh my god I cannot believe this is where we’ve come to as a fandom, I cannot fucking belieeeeeeve.

Anon. Honey. Baby. I say this gently, with love: Whyyyyyyyyy are you reading “Daenerys is a fascist” metas? That didn’t even work on the show.

When I googled “Daenerys Targaryen fascist” to try and figure out what you could possibly be reading to argue against it, the top result is an alt-right thinkpiece website about how dangerous Dany was all along in freeing slaves!!!! And the next results are people who think the iron throne actually matters when GRRM himself has said that the political war is a red herring.

The endgame rulers don’t even particularly matter because what matters in the end is that humanity wins against the Others and we still have control over ourselves, what matters is for that human heart conflict to continue to exist inside ourselves and that we rule over that conflict inside ourselves.

"We all must choose," she proclaimed.

Practice some self-care; go read Armageddon Rag, and remember this: TWOW is not going to save us.

#to my friends out there: shoutout to Comrade Drogon ☭#daenerys targaryen #tywin lannister #asoiaf meta #lannister thoughts #tywin meta #dany meta #fascist masculinity #fascist masculinity in asoiaf #asoiaf and the american mythos #the meaning of asoiaf #the war for the dawn #endgame #fascism

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fandomanxiety-library · 3 years

Text

The Groundbreaker - Chapter Two

The Outer Worlds Fic

Captain Dottie X Maximillian Desoto & Captain Dottie X Felix Millstone

Author’s Note: The title was wrong- it said three instead of two. I fixed the error, sorry for the inconvenience!

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

The delinquent’s tossball stick made contact with the other man’s head, and the man stumbled back in pain. The younger man swung his stick again, landing another blow to the head that sent the man flying to the floor with a thud.

“Next time you'll believe me when I tell you that you should shut up!” He roared at the unconscious man, and he felt his clothes bunch up from someone’s grasp.

He was whirled around by a man in dark, night colored, armored man who was ready to sock him in the jaw.

“Hey! You let go of him!”

Ah, thank the Law for the mardets...

“This half-wit just knocked out one of my workers!” The man shouted at her, and she glared at Felix.

“Felix, we told you to cut this out!”

Felix wasn't listening as he spotted a woman stroll from a nice looking ship along with two of what he assumed, companions. A very cranky looking man and a woman in bright overalls. He examined the woman noticing she was looking around in awe at the place. She had muscular arms that made Felix stare.

Law have mercy-.

“Hey! You back-bays sprat! Are you listening?!”

Felix politely growled at him, “get spaced!”

“What's going on here?”

Felix whirled around to meet a set of green eyes that where narrowed at the armored man, and Felix saw the large, shiny knife hanging from her belt. She glanced at him and gave him a wink.

“None of your business, lady,” the man growled, and she laughed at him.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, I don't care, give him a break,” she smirked, and the man stormed away like a kid.

Felix eyed her pretty face with a large blush on his cheeks, and she smiled at him with her pearly teeth.

“Hi there, seems like you where in trouble, honey,” she spoke, and Felix turned a vibrant red color.

“Oh...um, I was handling it. Don't think I have a job now though...”

“What you do that riled him up so bad?” She questioned him, and he felt the anger return.

“My foreman kept bragging about how his team won, Spacers Chosen man. I couldn't let him talk about the Rangers like that!” He growled, and Max rolled his eyes.

This guy is an joke...Law, he’s going to get himself killed.

Max watched the man with annoyance as he chatted with the Captain, and she was agreeing with him!

Law, there both out of their minds! Completely juvenile!

Max would never admit it, but he’s done the same thing before with a man in prison.

Flashback

Max growled as the man argued back about which team should have won the match last night.

“No! He was out of bounds, stupid! They didn't deserve that point!”

Max lost it when he called him a name, and pounced at him from across the table. He slammed the man to the floor whilst crashing his fist into the mans skull. He heard a sickening crack from the jaw of his victim.

No way was he going to tolerate this idiocy, no one called him names, and no one got away with it either when they did.

The man flipped him over and punched Max in the cheek, which drove Max further up the wall in fury. He flung him off top of him with a growl. Max grabbed him up from the floor and slammed his face into the bench behind them.

C r a a a c k !

The man slumped to the floor making incoherent noises. Max didn't even flinch when he saw the mans jaw hanging open, pouring blood and teeth. He had tears rolling down his face as he reached for his jaw in disbelief.

Can’t run your mouth now, can you?

Max received isolation for that incident...for two weeks.

End Flashback

They bid the man farewell as the Captain made her way to Inspections with her companions following close behind. They stopped in front of the man there, and she presented her ID to him.

“Hawthorne, eh? Well beautiful, you have been flagged by The Board,” he spoke, and eyeing her with admiration.

Is he flirting with the Captain? Seriously? Right now?! Who does he think he is?! She wouldn't like someone like him.

“We haven't been out of Edgewater long enough to get in trouble!” Parvati cried, and Max rolled his eyes.

“Looks like you have done something to get on The Boards bad side, Captain,” Max huffed, annoyed.

“Well handsome, am I stuck here?” She flirted back, leaning towards the glass.

Max felt a twinge of jealo-.

Law have mercy. If he flirts with her again I am going to-.

“I wouldn't mind you being stuck here, honey,” he flirted, and she smirked.

“Can we move on with this? We have places to be,” Max growled, and Parvati squinted at him suspiciously.

“What's the rush, Mr. Vicar?” She questioned skeptically.

“I have places I need to go, Ms. Holcomb,” he shot back, and she grew quiet while looking at her shoes.

She smirked. A small smirk of knowledge on her lips.

Is she smirking?! What is she on about?

After wooing the mardet, the Captain left feeling accomplished from getting information out of him.

“Captain, could I talk to you for a moment?” Max asked, and she turned to face him.

“Of course, what do ya’ need, hun?”

She's doing it again. She's calling me those names...but she's not saying it with that sultry-like voice she used on the mardet. Only is she was- no. No! That is not, that is definitely not important right now. Law, what am I? A teenage boy in heat?!

“I believe the security offices would prove of great help finding Chan- a former associate,” Max stumbled over his words, and she eyed him.

“What was that?”

Lie. Come up with a lie about hiding a scholar. Something to cover up what you just did.

“You caught me, Dottie,” Max began, using her name to help win her over, “I was covering him up, the scholar would not like to be caught.”

Her heart fluttered at her name being uttered by him.

“Of course. I apologize, Max,” Dottie smiled.

“I can comb through the departures on the terminals, and see where they where headed,” Max explained, and she nodded.

After she talked her way inside, she let Max get a look-see at the terminal.

Chaney, you snake, I am going to find you, and when I do...I will beat you. I will send you to your maker.

While Max combed through the terminal, Parvati and Dottie stood outside the door.

“You should pick you up some clothes, mine are a little small for ya’, Captain,” Parvait spoke, and Dot dug in her pocket.

Retrieving a candy, she opened it, then popped it in her mouth.

“Yeah, I plan on it with my money- er bits,” she replied.

“What's money?”

“It was currency on Earth. Paper and coins.”

Max found the entry he was looking for, and felt his body shake with fury. He went off to Monarch.

Lovely, we are heading your way, Chaney. I can’t wait to wring your scrawny neck. I will kill you, and I will do it without hesitation.

Max exited the room and motioned for them to leave. When they where out the door he told the Captain the news.

“He is at Fallbrook, on Monarch. What better place to avoid the authorities,” Max spoke, composing himself.

“Alright! We’ll head that way, I promise. But we have to get that Navkey if we want to get there in one piece,” she spoke, and Max nodded.

They headed to get her ship out of impound first. She approached the big doors to the fancy “building” the Board had here.

She walked in like she owned the place, and was sized up by the tiny man at the desk. She approached him.

“I was told you where coming, but you are not Captain Hawthorne. Has something befallen upon my favorite freelancer?” He asked, worried.

“I am afraid he has passed, sir.”

Silence hung in the air, until he finally spoke.

“Did he mention Phineas Welles to you?”

“I am sorry to tell you, but he did not,” she lied- lied as if she didn't.

As if she was telling the truth.

The truth.

I’m not telling her the truth. I am using her to get to Chaney, using her so I can kill him. But she is making it complicated...making me like her. Like her when I don’t need to- liking her will only make leaving hard. The lying hard.

Max watched her smooth talk her way through her conversation with Udom. She was chatting him up, getting information she wanted. Using her likable personality to weave her way into getting what she wanted. She glanced at him with those green eyes that looked so enchanting. They where like emerald ore that he would mine for- search for as if his life depended on it. He examined her skin, that was covered in small freckles. Like a lush garden full of different flowers that dot across the land, they covered her skin- not just on her face, but her hands, her arms, everywhere.

Law, somewhere this is going to have to stop, Maximillian.

#tow #vicar max #maximillian desoto #felix millstone #felix #captaindottie #the outer worlds #theouterworlds

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rwby-redux · 4 years

Text

Deconstruction

Worldbuilding: Aura

Our first official foray into the worldbuilding category: Aura. The chakra-like soul-energy that functions as the primary fuel source for Semblances, along with a handful of auxiliary features. Despite arguably being one of the cornerstones of RWBY’s lore, the page for it on the RWBY Wiki is worringly short. Like, no joke, it’s not even 2,000 words long. Suffice to say, that’s not a good sign.

Before we get started, let’s make sure everyone’s on the same page by quickly brushing up on our definitions. Aura is the physical manifestation of one’s soul, depicted as a colored emanation around the user. This effect is first visible when a person engages their Aura, and can be seen again when a person’s Aura is close to depletion. As Aura is drained through taking damage, staving off inclement weather, or using one’s Semblance, it begins to rapidly flicker. Upon depletion, it’s represented as either a full-body shimmering effect or a particle effect with “fragments” of Aura falling away from a person’s body, signifying that they’re susceptible to physical damage. Aura is vital not just for its inherent failsafe against injury, but for the other functions it offers, including: an innate healing factor, thermoregulation, conduction of Aura through inanimate objects, extrasensory perception, and unlocking dormant Auras within others. The only prerequisite for possessing Aura is having a soul, something which all life on Remnant (except for the Grimm) has.

You know, it’s amazing just how convenient Aura is. It almost makes you wonder why

EVERYBODY ON REMNANT HASN’T FUCKING UNLOCKED IT.

Seriously, why didn’t Pyrrha use her fame as a platform to raise public awareness on Aura? We know that trained Huntsmen can unlock them for people who have no prior training (looking at you, Jaune). Couldn’t her manager have found the time in-between signing deals with Pumpkin Pete’s to get a campaign going, so she could be sponsored to travel around the country doing exactly that? Why is 90% of Remnant’s population leaving themselves deliberately vulnerable to Grimm and bandits? Seriously, RWBY, what the fuck?

Sorry. Getting ahead of myself. Deep breaths.

Let’s set aside the histrionics for a moment. Aura as a combat mechanic is pretty ingenious when you think about it. It capitalizes on a pretty well-established trope already found in the genre. If you’ve familiarized yourself with the manga and anime scene in the last decade, chances are you know what Naruto is, even if you’ve never read or watched it. Having a magical soul-powered fuel source already gives you the license to justify all of the crazy acrobatics your cast is going to be doing, and given its parallels to chakra, it isn’t going to require too much explaining to a genre-savvy audience. In theory, anyway.

I think part of the problem is that RWBY’s writing relies a little too heavily on fans having at least a vague pre-established understanding of the concept behind Aura. It lets the show dodge having to answer problems that arise from under-developing its world. Aura’s utility as a combat accessory, coupled with all of the extra functions I mentioned earlier, creates the problem of: If this tool is so useful, why doesn’t everyone have it?

If you’ve never seen Hello Future Me’s video on magic systems, I highly recommend you check it out. Without even mentioning RWBY, he manages to pinpoint the flaw with Aura (and by extension, the common flaw with most fantasy magic systems): differentiating between limitations, weaknesses, and costs.

I’ll let him take over from here:

“The most common form of limitation is a vaguely-defined limit of strength, or training, or mental acumen of the practitioner. Avatar: The Last Airbender is kind of like this. There’s no explicit limit to how much fire a person can conjure, or how strong a wind they can muster, but we know it’s kind of limited by their training, willpower, strength, and talent. Think of it as the rule of: THERE’S ONLY SO MUCH AWESOME ONE HUMAN CAN HANDLE. If you’re really trying to differentiate your hard-magic system from this common trope, then think about not relying on this particular limitation, but maybe something else. Perhaps certain powers can be negated or are affected by certain things in the environment around them, like the moon, certain plants, or minerals. That way, your magician has to be aware of their surroundings at all times, or it can be used against them by their enemies.

Secondly: weaknesses. Weaknesses in magic systems can create interesting dynamics in a story where magic would usually make a character a lot more powerful than those around them. Maybe they can transform into a werewolf at will, but that makes them vulnerable to silver bullets, though, once again, making these limitations to your magic too simple can make them…uninteresting. […] If you have multiple different powers in your story, it could be interesting to have the use of one power making them more vulnerable to another, so your character has to be cautious about using their powers around someone who could take advantage of that. …I personally feel the best magic systems affect the way your characters think or act or change the way your fictional world operates.

Finally and thirdly, perhaps the most common way that people create rules for their magic system is through magic costing something. […] Perhaps the most common magical cost is that of bodily energy. In The Wheel of Time and The Inheritance Cycle, doing something with magic exhausts you, which is fine until you try and be too magically heroic, and you overdose on magical heroin and die.” [1]

Seriously, go watch this guy’s video. He’s great.

With all of that in mind, let’s take his thesis and apply it to Aura:

Does Aura have any limitations? Not really. We’re vaguely told by Kerry Shawcross that it’s possible to increase the amount of Aura a person has, but that it’s “impractical.” Most people try to get more efficient at using Aura instead of trying to get a “bigger gauge.” [2] Unfortunately, the show hasn’t provided any evidence of what “getting more efficient” looks like—whether that’s simply increasing your training, or undertaking a specific kind of training. Is Aura like a muscle that becomes stronger the more you exercise it? We don’t know. The show hasn’t given us a definitive metric for measuring training progress, so it’s up for debate.

Does Aura have any weaknesses? Sort of. You could argue that there’s a trade-off between using your Semblance versus simply relying on Aura to tank hits. A combatant’s innate defense system draws from the same energy source as a Semblance, which could create an interesting choice between offense and defense. Do I rely on my Semblance to win, or should I conserve Aura for other things, like activating Dust or staving off hypothermia? My issue with this being a credible weakness is that we don’t really see characters grapple with this dilemma on-screen. Taiyang tells Yang to decrease her dependency on her Semblance, but that has more to do with Yang’s Semblance enabling an aggressive attack style that gives her opponents more openings, than it does anything to do with conserving Aura for other things. [3]

Does Aura have any costs? That’s a resounding no. A Semblance costs Aura to use, but Aura itself doesn’t demand anything in exchange for activating it.

From every conceivable angle, Aura sounds like a pretty sweet deal. And that’s the problem: there’s no believable in-lore explanation for why the entire world doesn’t simply have a Huntsman unlock it for them.

So how do we rectify this?

What if having an unlocked Aura made a person more likely to attract Grimm? We already know that Grimm track people primarily through detecting negatively-valenced emotions and the presence of nearby souls. If we wanted to give Aura’s aesthetic appearance some more significance beyond simply being cool to look at, what if Grimm can sense that emanation? If a person with a locked Aura is akin to a matchstick, then what if a person with an unlocked Aura looked like a bonfire by comparison? The very tool used to fight Grimm has the drawback of also attracting Grimm, or worse, causing Grimm to prioritize you as a target.

Not only would this give us an answer for why the entire world doesn’t unlock their Auras, but it opens the floodgates for lore and worldbuilding ideas: If unlocked Auras can attract Grimm (even when not in use), do governments have an incentive to regulate how many of its citizens have unlocked Auras? Are only certain members of the population allowed to unlock their Auras, like Huntsmen or soldiers? What happens if you accidentally unlock your Aura? Would the government force you to pay a tax, or make you choose between conscription into either the military or a Huntsman Academy? There’s an entire afternoon’s worth of ethical debates right there.

But let’s say that unlocking your Aura doesn’t attract Grimm, in which case, maybe there’s some sort of societal stigma against it. What if you’re afraid of unlocking your Aura because that means, by extension, opening up the possibility of discovering your Semblance? What if you’re afraid of getting a passive Semblance that causes misfortune? What if you gain a pyrokinetic Semblance that’s hard to control, and without training you run the risk of hurting yourself or others?

We can even take this a step further if we consider how Aura and Semblances can be abused by others. What if at some point in history there was a monarch that would forcibly unlock their citizens’ Auras and force them to serve in their army? Skip forward several generations and picture a well-meaning Huntsman passing through a village. They stop to chat with the locals, and an inquisitive child comes up to them and asks about what it’s like being a Huntsman and having an unlocked Aura. The Huntsman, unaware of the history of the region, offers to unlock the child’s Aura for them. Cue the parents and nearby townsfolk panicking as their thoughts immediately go toward the tyrannical monarch from long ago, and the number of child soldiers forced to bleed for that king.

If we wanted to make Aura inconvenient, we could even introduce Aura- and Semblance-specific diseases transmitted via Grimm. Take a moment to imagine what it would be like if you lived in a world where you never had to worry about getting the flu, as long as you refrained from doing one specific thing. How’s that for an incentive? Now apply that to RWBY, and suddenly there’s a whole list of Grimm-based illnesses that you’re automatically immune to as long as you don’t unlock your Aura.

The possibilities are endless.

With a little creativity it wouldn’t be hard to give realistic, in-world answers for why unlocked Auras aren’t more prevalent: everything from mechanical drawbacks, limitations, weaknesses, risk factors, cultural taboos, stigmas, you name it.

I wanted to complain more about the vagueness of Aura’s healing factor and how it relates to Aura depletion—like how the hell Hazel stabbed himself with Dust crystals while his Aura was still active; wouldn’t the healing factor have caused them to just shoot out of his arms like magical splinters?—but this post is getting long, and I want to wrap things up. I think I’ve made my point.

Join me next time when I put another one of RWBY’s core concepts on the chopping block.

[1] Hello Future Me. “On Writing: hard magic systems in fantasy [ Avatar l Fullmetal Alchemist l Mistborn ]” YouTube video. February 07, 2018. [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iMJQb5bGu_g&list=WL&index=351&t=0s]

[2] Shawcross, Kerry. “CRWBY AMA.” Reddit interview. February 12, 2018. [https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBY/comments/7x3w4s/crwby_ama_w_miles_luna_kerry_shawcross_and_paula/du5bpdm/?context=3]

[3] Volume 4, Episode 9: “Two Steps Forward, Two Steps Back.”

#deconstruction #writing #worldbuilding #mechanical aspects #aura #semblances

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thebibliomancer · 5 years

Text

Dark Crystal Age of Resistance ep 2 liveblog

Just a stream of thoughts

Things I don’t want to do again: watch a puppet eat a melancholic breakfast

Ooh snap the podling is Aughra’s housekeeper or something

Wonder why she doesn’t have one in movie times. I mean besides the Skeksis drinking everyone

Aughra: goes right from deep sleep to “OHSHIT I OVERSLEPT AND EVERYTHING IS HORRIBLE FOREVER”

Come to think of it, between this and the power of the dark crystal comics, authority figures taking overlong naps causes more trouble than anything else in this world

Podling housekeeper: immediately tries to give her a hug

Aughra: 'No, none of that!'

Aughra was trying to see the entire universe and is now annoyed that she actually has to do her job now

Oh that’s why she doesn’t have a housekeeper later. She’s kind of a rude boss

Underground elf needs blindfold. She has darkvision and everything is way too bright

Hey how come all the dnds can have both dark and bright vision with no real adjustment time?

It’s a fizzgig!

Deet: “Do you like having your belly rubbed?”

A fizzgig: -immediately rolls over-

Do the gelflings just accept the unwelcome touches and sinister way of talking as Just How Lords Are? The Skeksis don’t really try to act unevil

Chamberlain decides to frame Rian for Mira’s disappearance and hey there’s no forensics that will clear him BECAUSE SHE EXPLODED

Chamberlain: “Gelfling have always believed Chamberlain’s whispers, yes? This is what I do. I plant stories in ground, watch grow into truth.”

So the definition of Chamberlain is “an officer who manages the household of a monarch or noble” but I think in Skeksis culture it’s their word for the office gossip

SkekSil just hanging around by the water cooler with the off-duty guards going ‘hey so i heard cheryl and bob are seeing each other and also I heard Rian killed his girlfriend but how about that game last night? are the referees crooked or what?’

So before the Skeksis had more to hide than usual why was Chamberlain spreading fake news among the Gelfling? Just for shits and giggles?

Oh so this is why the General/future Garthim Master really hates the Chamberlain

Every problem that he ever faces he suggests punching someone’s teeth in and then Chamberlain goes ‘hey here’s a plan that isn’t stupid’ and the Emperor sides with him

Guy just wants to punch teeth and Chamberlain keeps getting in the way

Emperor: ‘I NEED MY SOUL GOO I’M COMING DOWN FROM MY HIGH’

I’m less surprised that the Gelfling became jackbooted thugs after the movie. Tolyn wears that hat gleefully

“Dreamfast with me” oh yeah it’s hard to do a falsely accused plot when someone can just prove their innocence with psychic flashback sharing

Damn the puppetry on that terrifying spider

Deet: ‘Do you want to be friends, terrifying spider?’

Friend to all living thing living underground has not prepared her for dangerous predators

You Tried, Errol Flynn Podling

Deet: -slams podling Hup into spider like a tetherball-

Hup is on the way to meet the high queen gelfling to become the first podling Paladin

Now I have to grapple with learning that Thra has the concept of paladins

And I was just making jokes about Toolah from Beneath the Dark Crystal comic being one earlier today

Librarian: ‘hey I’m sorry for being rude yesterday’

Brea: ‘Can you help me research something?’

Librarian: ‘GTFO MY LIBRARY’

Elder Cadia: ‘I can’t tell you what that symbol means but I CAN get you super high’

Brea does a princess bride drink switch because the super drugs is actually amnesia dust and she’s not down with that

So the weird symbol vision Brea saw either means beginning or ending because Thra is one of those places where anything can mean the opposite thing

Gourmand: “Come out Gelfling! We won’t hurt you.... for long!”

Did... did you really thing that would work?

Apparently the Skeksis have successfully stopped anyone else from seeing the Crystal since they (or the UrSkeks) broke it because Rian gets one look at the Crystal all cracked and darkened and goes ‘well, that ain’t right’

LOCKSNAKE!

I love biotech nonsense

Rian decides to climb down the Crystal pit to sneak into the laboratory and steal the soul goo so he has proof

Just think: if he kept climbing down he would have found out Thra is hollow and has a sun inside and then he would have caught on fire and died

Chamberlain is an expert locksnakepick. Just hypnotize the lock and then EATS IT

Scientist: ‘dammit Chamberlain, stop eating my locks and stealing my goo!’

Rian yoinks

Damn Gurjin you were a true bro

Deet: “I don’t know how other clans go about their lives with three suns hanging over their heads all the time. They’re giant balls of fire! .... What if one falls?” Dammit Deet, you’re a delight

Deet has been following the moon instead of star the whole time because she’s an underground elf and doesn’t understand the sky

“Even a princess is not above the law” yeah but the law sucks, your majesty

Chamberlain: “I deserve to be punished. Flog me, scold me. I am riddled with shame. Such shame” This is a brave strategy, SkekSil. Orrr is this a briar patch thing?

Oh he’s flipping the blame on the Scientist by saying things that are technically true and giving them a bit of a spin

Emperor: “Is this true?”

Scientist: “Ehhhhhhhhhh technically?”

Where did this aptitude for lying go later in life, SkekSil? Where went your skill for wriggling our of trouble?

Annnnyway that’s how Chamberlain talked his own punishment down to the Scientist having his eye eaten by a beetle

And then I guess because he’s feeling like a big dick boy, he immediately tries to pick a fight with the General

Rian’s dad: “Let me hunt down my son. Then I’ll dreamfast with him to see what happened”

Skeksis: ‘OH SHIT DREAMFASTING’

So now Ordon is being sent after Rian which surely won’t backfire horribly. At least they told Ordon not to dreamfast with Rian for Reasons.

Aughra: “I must find what happened in my absence. I could ask the Mystics! ... No, no I don’t have time for riddles”

So instead she’s off to go chat with the Skeksis. Everything really is impressively imploding on the Skeksis in terms of people having serious questions of them

Nooo SkekTec your beautiful yellow eye

Actually based on the mentioned needler and tail dangler it sounds like the Skeksis really want to fuck each other up. It is a wonder they lasted so long without killing each other

And a wonder that the General bypassed all the mutilation when he beat Chamberlain for new Emperor in the movie and went right to making him naked and throwing him out of his house to do the walk of shame exile

#dark crystal #dark crystal age of resistance #liveblog #episode 2

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jiilys · 6 years

Note

i need a userjiilys take on a royalty au omg

petunia renounces the throne and lily finds out via times news alert while in bed eating a biscuit, and then twenty-seven people burst into her room all talking at once.

yeah. she’s sitting in rooms for hours and her mother won’t stop crying. then james rings and she sneaks to the loos, picks up and he says ‘we can’t hang out anymore. i don’t know how to curtsey’ and it’s the first time she’s laughed in sixteen hours.

marlene and remus send long, nice sympathetic texts, mary several heart emoji’s, peter pokes her on facebook, and sirius texts her a poorly edited picture of her head on julie andrews’ body from the princess diaries. she’s got good mates.

the thing is, they’re the british aristocracy. or, as sirius says, ‘incest distilled’. everyone’s either related or may as well be. they’ve all known each other since the dawn of time

well, with the exception of james, who on account of being the son of a lord and that lords maid, no one knew about until four years ago

(lily, sixteen, met him first at a charity brunch. james thought she was pretty and lily thought he was standing on a toilet blowing cigarette smoke out the air vent because he was, in fact, doing that)

lily goes from doing charity brunches and the occasional tour to being on the cover of every paper, headlined ‘FROM SPARE TO HEIR’, and sirius says that should be her first rap single

james rocks up one day and lily’s mother hears so he’s trapped in security for an hour before someone accidentally tells lily and then he’s in her room.

‘i brought shitty beer for us but they took it’ he shrugs, hands in his pockets. ‘country’s gone to the dogs’ she says. he grins.

sirius, who is a literal prince, takes money from remus for cigarettes and then lies about it

lily pushes james into a water fountain and its proper funny only then he has an allergic reaction to a lily-pad which is less funny but its not serious or anything so she puts a photo of his swollen face in the group chat and its back to being funny

some olympics thing where marlene and remus go out a fire exit to eat shrimp they stole and cause a mass evacuation

bbc interview where she has to consciously try call petunia’s new husband vernon and not vermin which is what they all call him in the group chat

lily in the loos at a fundraiser making corrections to her speech and james, who was not invited and in fact told explicitly not to come, telling her to drop the adverb in the third line

mary, marlene and lily at someone’s wedding and marlene drunker than is acceptable for cameras so they lock themselves in the bathroom for an hour talking and feeding mar bread and only threatening to dunk her in the loo on eleven occasions

sirius nickname in the group chat is ‘metaphorical bastard’ and james’ is ‘literal bastard’

james walking round lilys enormous room, tie loose, shoes off, talking about anything at all

lily and remus have long involved talks about who is the superior chris bc lily thinks its pine and remus is all ‘not everything is about the princess diaries’ and lily says ‘that’s treasonous’ and googles if a monarch can revoke someone’s citizenship while mary dies laughing

james doing a handstand to prove marlene wrong and there is his abdomen and his back and the bones of his hips, right here in front of god and everybody, and lily is red all over

lily running in a charity race with children and she loses on purpose For The Children so sirius immediately turns to the nearest reporter and says ‘she never could run’

at a dinner for the king of belgium and lily is on her third bread roll, purposely not telling sirius he has a milk moustache and wishing james was there to also not tell him

marlene gives lily fifty dollars to knight her and lily takes it and then doesn’t

james and his father never talk but when they do lily knows because he rings her at ungodly hours and doesn’t say anything, and after forever lily says ‘he’s an asshole’ and james says ‘yeah’ and then he says ‘tell me about your day’

marlene, mary and remus all having secret instagram accounts while sirius’ plugs his twitter in interviews and calls his dad a bitch outside a club when a reporter asks for his opinion on the euro

sirius is the closest to lily in rank so he’s the only one at the polo match where she eats bad salmon and throws up in a bush. he mocks her for ten minutes and then goes for paper towels

petunia off living the quiet life she always wanted and lily sat on her bed, ugly sobbing actually, because she was never meant to do this and she’s letting everyone down

‘not possible’ james says, crouching in front of her, arms resting on her legs. ‘it’s – i mean–“ he coughs, hand through his hair, breathes in,

‘you couldn’t do a shit job. It’s not in you.’ eyes on hers, voice sure, ‘you’re as good as it gets.’

he hands her a tissue and reaches out, hand hovering for a moment, before wiping the damp hair out of her face. christ alive lily thinks, staring at him, aflood with knowing

sirius and lily in the corner at another dinner full of drunk diplomats, popping olives like tic-tacs and eavesdropping

lily, walking the freezing street with all the people behind the metal fences and a little girl tells her she looks pretty and lily says ‘not as pretty as you’ and the girl grins so wide her lip splits

remus and sirius are photographed playing strip poker at some model’s birthday and that’s all there is to say about that

lily travels a lot now and so late at night, on the phone with james, she’ll tell him about belarus and he’ll describe the new sainsbury’s ad shot-for-shot

james’ voted the second most attractive lord’s son by the sun and is chill about it. andrew fowler has syphilis but whatever. journalism is dead.

middle of the night party where her and sirius are on a balcony and she’s a bit drunk and can’t stop thinking about that time they were fifteen and everyone thought they were going to get married because the daily mail wrote that thing

‘sirius’ she says, he blows smoke out his mouth, looks at her, ‘i’m really glad we’re not married’

he laughs ‘me too.’ he says, and she keeps looking at him. ‘glad you’re here right now though’ she says, and by right now she means all the time and she knows he knows.

he blows smoke in her face. ‘me too’ he says again

lily and james sat at a wedding reception while everyone’s dancing and she doesn’t notice he’s staring until he says ‘a big part of me likes you’ out of nowhere and lily says ‘christ, what a line’ and kisses him

marlene, mary, sirius, peter and remus all at some art gala and while peter’s in the bathroom they all leave and forget about him until he texts asking where they are

remus kicks sirius out of group chat for saying that the ‘h’ in jesus h christ stands for hella

james and lily in james’ room eating chips and then lily has a phone call and so james pretends to have a phone call and lily’s on the phone to her secretary, snorting, as james is pretending to organise a meeting through the chip bag and then his hand is very high up her leg and she isn’t laughing anymore

mary, remus, sirius and marlene at a polo match and sirius nicks a hat while remus eats an orange and the girls actually watch the game

marlene and lily, who have definitely not forgotten the name of the earl of york, are googling something entirely unrelated to that at the back of his child’s christening

james is in the paper with lily again and her mother sits her down and says it would probably be for the best if she was photographed with him less because they don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea

and lily, who’ll die if james’ doesn’t marry her and she has to do this without him, tells her quite politely that she’ll think about it

later, on the phone with james: ‘so i’ve had a think and decided that if she asks me again i’ll just run off with you and we can run a bed and breakfast in siberia, or something’

james smiles into the empty room, phone pressed to his ear, ‘can’t be a lot of people looking for either a bed or breakfast in siberia’

she grins, wiggles her toes inside her shoes. ‘yeah well, didn’t say it would be successful.’

james laughs. lily, up in the air on a plane headed for somewhere a million miles away for some reason she can’t possibly think of, shuts her eyes, listens to his voice, and can do this after all

#yeah sorry this is long and never gets good im in a weird mood and for some reason am done?? trying with this so have it sorry 2 let u down #jily #james potter #lily evans #brotp: the lot #caroshorts #sirius black #Anonymous

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welllpthisishappening · 6 years

Note

pretty much answers it. i was basically like, um, there is no way the dwarves don't give killian a metric fuck-ton of shit over it. especially while he is arresting them for drunk and disorderly. leory has definitely called him "your highness" or something and lived to regret it and then did it again anyway. and a pirate law enforcement officer is already a stretch, right?

Insert shrug emoji here. I’ve got words. All the time.

The first time it happens, he’s almost positive he’s misheard.

Ariel’s daughter is, after all, young and prone to babbling and the words don’t sound so much like words as they sound like elongated syllables and shouts and, possibly, something about the current state of the waves in the harbor.

Killian blinks, eyes flitting from the lass to Ariel and she’s smiling. Knowingly. Far too knowing to be entirely supportive.

“What did she just call me?” Killian asks, careful not to sound like he’s accusing the young royal of something particularly nefarious. Ariel shrugs.

“Do you know if there’ll be food at Snow White’s meeting?”

“I can’t possibly imagine a situation where Snow White would not have food. She acts as if she’s feeding a rather large armada at all of these meetings.”

Ariel’s lips quirk. “I’m going to tell her you said that.”

“And I won’t let you back in Storybrooke again.” Her lips appear to defy gravity that time. Killian’s fingers flutter against his side, like he’s thinking about reaching for his sword and there is no sword strapped to his hip. This is Storybrooke. “What are you thinking?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“Ariel.”

“Nothing. We’re going to be late.”

He almost forgets about it. He, at least, does not ponder it much – is far too busy with a sudden issue of break-ins up and down Main Street and a baby who appears to only get fussy at the least opportune moments and the second time it happens it’s Leroy. Who does not babble. He shouts. Loudly.

Killian’s doing his best to promise that it will be fine – we’re looking into it and doing all we can and the lies feel heavy as they spill out of them, but he’s so bloody exhausted he can hardly see straight and Emma’s in some meeting with her mother and Regina and they’re probably eating. And doing something vaguely royal.

“Well, if our prince isn’t going to do anything about it, then who are we supposed to trust?”

Killian snaps his head up so quickly, he’s momentarily worried about whiplash. “What did you just say?”

Leroy’s eyes bulge, the dwarf that had been running towards him in some kind of undeniable support freezing immediately in his tracks. “Uh,” he sputters. “Prince. As in…well, your highness, you’re…”

He’s not sure what expression he’s making, but it must be vaguely terrifying because Leroy’s jaw snaps shut. Loudly. Again. Killian inhales slowly, closing his eyes and lifting his hand. So he won’t be tempted to grab his sword again.

He walks to Snow and David’s farm. It smells like lasagna.

Emma blinks as soon as the screen door slams shut behind Killian, gaze flitting across his face with an almost palpable concern. “Hey,” she starts, standing up slowly and he must still be making that face. “What’s–”

It doesn’t take her long. If he weren’t torn between so many different emotions and whatever it is his heart is still doing at the sound of prince ringing in his ears, Killian would be very impressed at how quick his wife is on the uptake. As it is, he assumes this is probably penance because he likes to mutter her title in her ear at any possible opportunity.

It regularly and consistently makes her blush.

“Dwarves or Vikings?” Emma asks.

“Leroy.”

“Ah, that’s the worst possible option.”

Killian hums, letting his hand fall to her hip and she’s doing an almost admirable job of not laughing. “He was complaining to Dad about the lack of monarch control the other day, so I figured it was only a matter of time. And, you know, he’s not totally wrong. I don’t know the technical term, but you’d be like..” She glances back over her shoulder towards a clearly amused Snow White and Regina. “Prince consort, right?”

“He wouldn’t have much authority,” Regina says. “Technically. Couldn’t actually rule anything.”

“I’m not trying to rule anything,” Killian exclaims, but Emma’s given up on not laughing and her fingers tug lightly on the charms that have fallen over the front of his shirt. As if she’s trying to remind him of something.

“I can’t believe we didn’t consider this,” Snow White muses. “I suppose we’ve only just gotten down to the brass tacks of ruling each duchy, haven’t we?”

Emma’s head falls forward at her mother’s use of the phrase brass tacks, and Killian takes a shuddering breath because even at his most optimistic, he’s not sure he’d ever allowed himself to imagine the title of prince consort. It’s disconcerting. He wishes the farm were closer to the ocean.

“And,” Regina adds. “There’s been some discussion. Not just the dwarves and the Vikings. Henry said Aurora was hoping for some kind of official ball.”

Emma groans. “No ball!”

Snow White’s shoulders noticeably slump. Killian has to move slightly when most of Emma’s weight presses against his chest. She hasn’t actually let go of the charms yet.

“No ball,” he echoes. “But if either one of your majesty’s is set on this then–”

“–An announcement,” Mary Margaret exclaims. “We’ll make an announcement instead. So there’s no confusion and people know how to address you and–”

“–Captain is fine.”

Regina clicks her tongue. “Not quite as royal though, is it?”

“That’s never been entirely my goal.”

Her answering laugh is loud even through her pressed lips. Emma’s whole body shakes, but Killian feels her brush her lips across the front of his shirt as well, so he figures it’s a wash.

There is, in fact, an announcement – because Snow White is the kind of ruler with fireside chats at her farmhouse and more baked goods than any military battalion could finish and Emma has to turn her head into Killian’s shoulder to stop herself from causing a scene when he’s announced as prince consort of Storybrooke. “But he’d prefer Captain,” David adds, glancing meaningfully across the room.

Killian rolls his eyes.

And, two weeks later, after a particularly raucous evening at the Rabbit Hole between several dwarves celebrating the distinct lack of recent break-ins, Killian answers a call from Will Scarlet. He pulls his sword on one of them – possibly Sneezy – when he mumbles thanks for the help, your highness and no one calls him that again.

#cs ff #captain swan #laura writes canon #THIS IS NONSENSE #ohmightydevviepuu #laura rambles

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hrhduchessoflancaster · 5 years

Text

Chapter Eighty-Six: Into Motion

A/N: Thank you for your comments and words of encouragement. I couldn’t have done any of it without you guys.

Enjoy! xx Bea

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After the meeting with the Queen, the senior royals, with the exception of the Duke and Duchess of Sussex, began to slowly pave the way for William’s transition from active, working member of the Royal family into a private citizen. The first step was to move back to Norfolk, for a few months at first and then, permanently. Secondly, the Queen would bestow further graces upon Harry as he would soon take his place as heir to the heir apparent. For this, Elizabeth had decided to appoint Harry as her personal Aide-de-Camp, much like William and Charles were. Furthermore, he’d be appointed the new royal colonel of the Scots Guards regiment as the Duke of Kent resigned from the position.

The news of these new appointments were given to Harry and Elle by Her Majesty on one of their monthly meetings. They were both ecstatic about it. Along with their child, the couple met the monarch in the Blue Drawing Room to chat and eat. As they sat down, the Queen began telling them the great news as Arthur silently slept on his mother’s arms.

“ Thank you so much, granny. I don’t really know what I’ve done to deserve such an honour.”, said Harry to the Queen, who smiled warmly at her grandson.

“ Think nothing of it, my dear. I see great potential in you and I want to reward it. I want to see you grow in your role in this family, representing me and Britain around the country and the world. I truly see a great leader in you, Harry. I’m sure you’ll make me proud.”, said Elizabeth. Harry felt his eyes fill up with unshed tears as his grandmother spoke to him. She had never before expressed herself to him like that and he felt and even greater sense of duty and respect for the tiny woman in front of him, who had always been so affectionate yet firm. Who was truly, a role model to millions of people.

“ I… thank you… thank you so much, granny.”, he replied, hugging her and placing a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“ You’ll have a proper ceremony with the first battalion next week, just in time for Trooping the Colour. You’ll be able to march along your brother and father during the parade this year”, she saiid to him. Harry took it as a great honour and responsibility.

“ I’ll do my best to make you proud of me, granny.”, said Harry, emotively.

“ I know, dear. I know.”, she replied.

By the end of their conversation, baby Arthur had woken up from his slumber and blinked tiredly to his mother, eyes softly wondering to his father and great grandmother. The little boy, who was about to turn two months old, loved being cuddled by his great grandmama. He personally loved to put his tiny hands on her glasses and sparkling necklaces. The little patch of red hair in his head was turning darker, closer to Elle’s and the couple agreed that it would be a proper ginger colour and not the golden-amber that was Harry’s. His eyes, however, had now set on an aqua green, much similar to his father’s. Placing the baby in Elizabeth’s arms, Elle smiled as he snuggled closer to the older woman.

“ How has he been?”, asked Elizabeth, smiling affectionately.

“ Very well. A few bumps along the road, especially during the morning, but he’s been such a blessing. He’s a very calm baby.”, said Elle smiling at her chubby son.

“ Takes after you, I imagine. Harry was definitely not a calm child.”, said Elizabeth chuckling.

“ Ahh...children indeed are, aren’t they? Precious little things that give our lives such light.”, commented Elizabeth as Arthur pulled on her necklace with his tiny hands. Chuckling the proud parents watched as the youngest member of the family interacted with the Queen. In a matter of minutes, the baby began wailing and was once again back in his mother’s arms, eager to be fed. Elle excused herself and took the baby to another room, patiently soothing him as she adjusted herself to nurse him. Softly, she sang and caressed him as she watched he began to feel drowsy and sleepy again.

“Sing me a song of a lass that is gone. Say could that lass be I? Merry of soul, she sailed on a day, over the sea to Skye. Billow and breeze, islands and seas, mountains of and sun. All that was good, all that was fair, all that was me is gone.”

Humming along the melody, Harry came into the room smiling adoringly to his wife and son. Elle turned her head to face him and smiled back, urging him forward.

“ How long were you there?”, she asked as he took a seat beside her, looking from her face to his sleepy son’s form.

“ Just now. Granny wanted me to tell you she had to leave for a meeting but she promised to visit us a Kensington before the ceremony next week. She said she wants to spend more time with her great grandchildren.”, said Harry, caressing Arthur’s head. Elle adjusted her blouse and carefully transferred the sleeping infant to his father’s arms. With all the care in the world, Harry took him, cuddling him close to his chest, kissing the top of the baby’s ginger head.

“ Come on… let’s get him home,”, said Harry taking her hand in his.

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

As promised, on the following week, two days before Harry’s ceremony, the Queen and Prince Philip visited Kensington. The Cambridges and the Sussexes meet the royal couple in the small private garden, where they had prepared baked goods, drinks and playful games for both children and adults alike. Together, the family had the most fabulous time together, one that they hadn’t shared in a long time.

On the day of his investiture as both Aide-de-Camp and Colonel of the Scots Guards Regiment, Harry was excited and a bit anxious about the big task ahead. Dressed in his new uniform -- the traditional red uniform, with a three buttons pattern and the embroidered badge of the thistle on the collar -- he arrived at the barracks with Elle by his side, who wore a tartan dress in shades red, white and blue, the colours of the regiment, along with a navy blue fascinator. Elle took her place as the Queen presented Harry with the gold Aiguillette on his right shoulder, the thistle and the Queen’s insignias on his shoulder straps. A great cheer was sounded from the company and soon, he walked among them meeting the soldiers he was know in charge of.

Elle beamed as she watched Harry with such an ease, walking, talking and laughing among his army buddies, as one of lads -- something he has always been -- and commented how well he looked with Elizabeth, who stood beside her, also smiling.

“ He’s a natural born leader, isn’t he?”, said Elle to the Queen.

“ He truly is. He has the charisma, the charm, eloquence, care and interest. Yes, he truly is a natural born leader.”, agreed the Queen. Somehow, Elle thought that the reflection the old monarch made was a bit more intense than it was supposed to be. She shrugged it off and focused on her husband who was coming back from the inspection of the battalion and walking towards them. As he got closer to them, she grinned, hugged him and kissed his cheek.

“ You were brilliant, Major. Or should I start saying Colonel, now?”, joked Elle smiling at him. He chuckled and kissed her cheek, taking her hand into his.

“ Thank you for always supporting me, love.” He said to her.

“ It’s my pleasure and honour, darling.”, replied Elle, caressing his cheek. “ I will always be by your side. You know that.”

“ I do. As will I. Always and forever, my love.”, said Harry, lacing their hands together and caressing her hand with his thumb. The loving gestures were not missed by neither the Queen not the public present. The old woman smiled softly at the young couple and pondered once again over the decision that had been made and the plan set into as a result of it. Before leaving, the three royal posed for pictures with the battalion; all of them showing Harry with a beaming smile and both Elizabeth and Elle, with a proud look on their faces.

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

When Trooping the Colour family came to pass, Elle’s second time as a Royal Duchess, she found herself alone. Harry, now a colonel of the Scots Guards would be on horseback along with his father, brother and aunt, while she rode with Kate and Camilla to watch the parade from a window. There, she found Nanny Maria with George and Charlotte, as well as her sleeping son, who had been graciously taken care of by her. Smiling, she took the baby in her arms and walked over to one of the windows to watch closely. She grinned to herself when she saw her husband standing tall in the scalding June sun, watching with enthusiasm as his battalion passed by, first in slow march then in quick march.

“ Look Arthur! There’s papa!”, she whispered to her son, pointing out Harry amidst the horseback royals. “ He looks so dashing in his uniform and on his horse, doesn’t he?”, she asked her son and the baby babbled, fisting his little hands, shaking them in the air. Elle chuckled and placed a soft kiss on his head before turning her eyes once again to the parade, who’d be soon coming to an end.

Punctually, it was over and she taken back to the carriage, her son returned to Nanny Maria for the time being. On her way back to Buckingham Palace, she, Catherine and Camilla smile, waved and chatted about the parade and how handsome their respective husbands look.

“ Oh you must be so proud of him, Elle.”, said Camilla smiling. Nodding, she grinned.

“ I am. You have no idea how much.”, she replied, waving at the crowd.

“ Harry looked perfect today. Almost as if he was born to be there. To do it.”, said Kate, quickly glancing to Camilla who nodded her head vehemently. That was the second time within a week that someone close to them mentioned that. Odd, thought Elle. Dismissing the train of thought going through her head, she smiled and once again agreed with the two women, unable to say anything wrong about her husband.

As they entered the palace, she took her son into her arms once again and moved to the balcony behind Kate and Camilla, waiting for the Queen, Charles, William, Anne and Harry return. As soon as the trio saw them, they smiled and waved at their husbands, without first, of course, curtseying to the Queen as she passed on her carriage. The women returned inside and waited for Her Majesty and the others.

Once inside, Harry rushed to the balcony parlour to meet his wife and child. Grinning from ear to ear, he walked over to them, in his new red uniform. Upon reaching them, he kissed Arthur’s head and tickled his belly, earning him a happy babble from the child. Then, he turned to his wife and cupping her cheek, kissed her lovingly, not caring they had other people around them. Smiling, she gently pulled away from him and pecked his cheek, just as baby Arthur began playing with his papa’s gold Aiguillette. They were so immersed in their own little world they didn’t hear the call to join the other on the balcony until William lightly nudged them on his way there. With a hand on her lower back, Harry guided Elle to the famous balcony and they stood a little behind William, Kate and the kids. Smiling, they watched the crowd and the flypast, Elle took care to place some sound protection headphones on baby Arthur, who looked so funny with them on that made his cousin chuckle at the sight of it. The baby however, was asleep during the entire thing, much to the amusement of his parents and family members.

Together, the family had lunch and enjoyed each other’s company, laughing and drinking, telling a few jokes. The mood was light and welcoming, nothing compared to the pomp and circumstance of the parade they had just taken part in. Just before desert, the Queen stood from her seat and called everyone’s attention.

“If you please. I’d like to propose a toast…”, she said looking around the table.”… to my grandson, Harry.”, she said and all eyes turned to him.

“ He’d been an exemplary soldier and ambassador to the United Kingdom, as well a a wonderful patron. He proved time and time again that he’s fit to be an active, serving member of this family. It’s my honour to have him as my Aide-de-Camp. And my privilege to have him as a grandson. To Harry!”, she said, raising her glass.

“ To Harry!”, the family repeated in chorus, Elle raising her water glass. Smiling, she pecked his cheek as her husband shyly smiled, cheeks flustered.

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

The Prime Minister, Mr. Christopher Simmons, was beyond himself with the news he’d received from Her Majesty that morning. He couldn’t, but all that is holy, understand what was going on in the Duke and Duchess’ of Cambridge’s mind. And ever more, he had no idea how to make the Privy Council and Parliament understand what the Queen had asked him to do. Of course, she as a monarch had the right to bar people from the line of succession but she couldn’t overcome the institutional laws. He had to find a loop whole. An alternative, in order to keep everyone happy and the country in balance. Sure, Harry was very popular. But not exactly King material. They’d have to make him look more serious, yet approachable. A bit more like William, but without losing his cheekiness or passion. Yes… there’s was a lot to be done and not much time for it.

#FATES INTERTWINED #phff #royalcollection #Prince Harry #prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction #duke of sussex

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