#unfortunately i learned that mr knight is STILL INTERESTED IN ME | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tsukihimeyfan · 4 years

Text

Sorting the main cast of AtLA into Hogwarts Houses

I know I’m late to the party because I’ve seen many different people tackle this before, but I feel like it is my civic duty as both a Potterhead and an AtLA stan to put in my two cents, since every single time I’ve seen it talked about people either misinterpret what each House values in their members or pick a House by taking into account only one aspect of their personalities. I want to make it clear that these are my own opinions, which I’m basing on the definitions we’ve gotten of the main traits of each House over the years and the “core values” of each AtLA character, and that I’m in no way am I trying to insult anyone who thinks differently. That being said, here goes nothing!

Let’s start with the easy ones. Namely, the Fire Siblings:

1) Azula is 100%, undoubtedly, definitely, incontrovertibly Slytherin. Just doing a quick rundown of the qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his handpicked students, as stated by the Sorting Hat, Albus Dumbledore and Pottermore: Cunning? Check. Resourcefulness? Check. A disregard for rules? Check. Using any means to achieve her ends? Check. Shrewdness? Check. Ambition? Check. Self-preservation? Check. Pride? Check. An argument could even be made that, as a member of the Fire Nation Royal Family, Azula also kind of meets the “blood purity” criteria. I’m sure most of us agree on this. Even if she does exhibit a lot of loyalty to her father as well as courage and intelligence, there is just no contest. Azula is one of the most Slytherin characters I’ve ever seen outside of the Harry Potter universe.

2) In the same way, Zuko is irrefutably a Hufflepuff. Hear me out! I know that he’s very brave and daring, but when we think of Zuko, what is his most essential trait, what do people tell us again

and again

about Zuko’s character?

He’s a hard worker. And what’s the House of the hard-working?

"You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal, Those patient Hufflepuffs are true, And unafraid of toil.”

You guessed it. Hufflepuff. Of course, that’s not the only trait valued by this House that he exhibits. Who is more loyal in the series than the child who got half his face burned off and still did his best to earn the love and respect of the one responsible? Who never faltered in his loyalty even when he was sent away on an impossible mission? Who spouted angry words most of the time yet was willing to let his ticket home go temporarily in favor of ensuring the safety of his Uncle and his crew? That’s right, our boy Zuko. That very loyalty to his father is what unfortunately bound him for the longest time, until he was forced to face what a monster he was and let go of it in favor of more important things, namely his own morals and his loyalty to his Uncle.

He also has an incredibly strong sense of justice, as proven by the above statements, as well as this moment:

and he can be incredibly patient when he needs to be, as seen during The Blue Spirit and the Southern Raiders episodes.

Hufflepuffs are also said to be fair (which he clearly is), dedicated (need I say more?), honest (which Mr. shouts-his-feelings-at-the-top-of-his-lungs and can’t-lie-without-being-obvious-or-glancing-away-and-has-been-found-out-every-time-he-tried of course is) and modest (this one he starts without but by the time he joins the Gaang there isn’t anyone more modest or humble)

As “an idealist with a pure heart and unquestionable honor” , Zuko is the Hufflepuffiest Hufflepuff to ever Hufflepuff and I will die on this hill

3) Another easy one is our girl Suki, whom I’d say is a Gryffindor through and through, even if she is very loyal to her friends.

The rest of the Gaang under the cut.

The other members of Team Avatar are a bit trickier because they all exhibit a pretty even mix of traits from more than one House, but still if we just concentrate on their defining characteristics we can get to an answer.

4) I’d argue that Sokka belongs in Ravenclaw, even though he is of course quite brave and extremely loyal to his loved ones, not only because he’s a strategist and an inventor, but also because, as best stated by Master Piandao:

Ravenclaws most value wit, learning, intelligence, creativity and wisdom (this last one is a bit iffy but I’m sure he’ll get there when he’s older), as well as priding themselves on being original in their ideas and methods. That’s Sokka to a T.

5) Katara gave me a hard time. She’s unbelievably loyal to her friends and family, she’s compassionate, patient, fair, hard working and dedicated, with a REALLY strong sense of justice, so a case can be made for Hufflepuff easily. However she can also be quite cunning when she wants to (most obviously during The Waterbending Scroll, City of Walls and Secrets, The Painted Lady, and The Runaway), she has a lot of ambition (if you count every variation of “I will make the world a better place by force if I have to”), she disregards the rules when it suits her (again The Waterbending Scroll as well as The Runaway) and she can be proud at times, so we could argue she’s a Slytherin. She’s also undoubtedly very intelligent and even quite wise for her age. It took me a while to decide but then I pondered; at her very core, what are the statements that define her? What words just scream “that’s it, that’s Katara”? They are, of course, these two phrases:

The first sounded incredibly Gryffindor to me, and the second is half Gryffindor half Hufflepuff, so it had to be between those two. As such, I decided to look into Gryffindor first. Katara is, of course, astoundingly courageous, but what else? I had to actually look up definitions for the Gryffindor traits besides courage because they all just kinda meant “brave” to me initially 😅, but what I found was:

*Nerve: “one's steadiness and courage in a demanding situation”. Yep. Who’s the most level-headed, steady and reliable person whenever the Gaang is in any kind of pinch? That’s right. Katara

*Daring: “adventurous or audaciously bold“. Yep. I’d say she ties with Toph for boldest in the Gaang

*Determination: “firmness of purpose”. Yep, absolutely. See the above image from the Painted Lady. ‘Nuff said.

*Chivalry: can mean 2 things, one is “sum of the ideal qualifications of a knight, including courtesy, generosity, valor, and dexterity in arms”. All of that is true of her (her “arms” being her waterbending), but I found it interesting that to be chivalrous can also mean “gracious and honorable toward an enemy, especially a defeated one, and toward the weak or poor”. I’d argue that this fits her even more. Once again, just take a look at The Painted Lady episode.

*Courage and bravery: they can mean the same thing, namely “the ability to do something that frightens you” and of course that fits Katara, but the word courage in particular has another meaning, which is “strength in the face of pain or grief”...

I’d say she’s pretty good at that. I think that settles it, Katara is a Gryffindor.

Turns out that when it came to the water tribe siblings Bato was right all along

6) For Toph I was split between Gryffindor (thinking of her brash, bold nature) and Slytherin for a while, but after looking into Katara and researching all those definitions I think I have to give it to Slytherin. Of course, Toph doesn’t seem to be very ambitious unless you count “being recognized as the greatest earthbender in the world”, but she is quite cunning. She knows exactly how to use her “poor helpless blind girl” persona to get what she wants, as seen both on The Blind Bandit and The Runaway. She’s also an extremely good actress, being able to play the “reserved and obedient little girl” to her parents for years, and being easily able to pick it back up when it suits her.

She’s also stubborn, proud, and 100% willing to use any means, regardless of laws or rules, to get what she wants.

As for self preservation? Remember that her response when asked to teach Aang, which was crucial to save the world but would’ve compromised her secret, was this:

Slytherins can also “hesitate before acting, so as to weigh all possible outcomes before deciding exactly what should be done “ and my first instinct was to say that it didn’t fit Toph at all, but what is Toph if not a person who “waits and listens before striking”? Slytherins tend to favor Neutral Jing it seems.

Almost forgot that as a daughter of the Beifong family she’s sort of nobility and she technically also meets the “blood purity” criteria.

7) Finally, we get to my boy Aang. He was really difficult. He’s loyal, patient, fair, kind, modest (usually) and just but I can’t really call him a hard worker most of the time.

He’s brave, adventurous, determined and chivalrous but he does tend to get discouraged during demanding or stressful situations (his friends always make it better though)

He’s creative, very wise for his age, and quite smart (except when he’s playing around with Sokka in which case they share one brain cell 😂)

He can even be cunning when he needs to be. If he ever went to Hogwarts, he’d definitely be a Hat Staller like Harry. I heard someone say once that they considered Aang a Gryffindor because he liked to show off a lot, but that’s not really a Gryffindor trait (think of Neville Longbottom, Remus Lupin, Harry Potter and Minerva McGonagall. I think any one of them would sooner Stupefy themselves than go show off their skills in front of a crowd for no reason other than to brag).

Once again, we must pin down what it is that defines him, what his core is. After much thought, I decided it’s this:

It’s his compassion, which he learned from his people, and his desire to value and protect all life. It’s his loyalty to the ideologies of the Air Nomads of which he is the last remaining bastion. It’s his strong moral code, his sense of right and wrong, his wish to make friends and to believe the best of everyone. That’s his center. That is what makes him Avatar Aang. In light of that, I think we can consider Aang, first and foremost, a Hufflepuff.

In the end, Team Avatar is made up of one Ravenclaw, one Slytherin, one Gryffindor (two after Suki joins), and two Hufflepuffs

Ironic, that the House least valued in the Harry Potter universe is the one that houses arguably the most pivotal characters of Avatar the Last Airbender: Zuko and Aang. Fitting, that even in this they parallel each other.

This is already long enough so I don’t think I’ll do Mai, Ty Lee, or Iroh. Maybe some other time.

197 notes · View notes

anthonyed · 4 years

Note

stevetony + no. 99 (“I fell in love with you, not them.”)? only if you want to, of course. no pressure! :)

ive said this before: i LOVED writing this. hopefully you like cats ♡

-//-

Tony says it started like this:

One afternoon, Tony barged into Pepper’s office because he conveniently forgot how to knock and caught her rolling a miniature lint roller up her suit sleeve.

She startled with her high pitched, “Oh my god, Tony!” But, Tony was too fascinated by the lint roller that he kept advancing with a singular focus.

“What is that?”

Pepper bristled, “It’s a lint roller. Why are you here? I told you I don’t want to see you for at least four hours.”

Oh. Right. She was still upset about something Tony did during the board meeting. Menial stuff, unimportant, anyway -

“I know what it is, what I meant is, why are you using that in here?”

At this point, he’s close enough to catch the very fine blonde hair stuck on the roller. “Are you trying to bury the evidence of your boyfriend, Miss Potts? Because while that is very thoughtful, I have a feeling he’d be -,”

“It’s not a boyfriend,” Pepper rolled her eyes. “With you as my boss I don’t have such time -,”

Tony on the other hand, while Pepper was talking, snagged the roller from her hand, “This is - This is not - Ah CHO!”

Pepper winced.

Tony’s jaw dropped.

“Miss Potts,” he asked, deadly calm. “I thought you read and signed all the clauses when you agreed to be my personal assistant.”

“I did, Mr Stark.” Pepper's lips thinned.

Tony dropped the roller on her table; the miniature thing completing two circles before stopping in front of her.

“Then why are there cat hair all over you?”

Despite what Tony likes to think, according to Pepper it started like this:

"Who is that?" Tony asked, low whisper, eyes like hawk fixed on the blonde man with a pink cap -

"Oh!" Pepper exclaimed, leaning sideways and waving to catch the guy's attention. "That would be my lunch."

From the cat cafe, Pepper didn't say. Instead, she hurried out of the room to meet the delivery staff before he could enter; didn't want to risk putting the man responsible for her paycheck in close contact with the one thing he's allergic to: cats' fur.

Now, Pepper doesn't know exactly what Tony thought that day, but when she reentered the room after shoving a 20 dollars bill into the guy's hand, she found Tony to be in some kind of… stupor.

She stopped where she stepped in. The door closed behind her and she asked, "Tony?"

Tony startled. "Is that your boyfriend?"

"What? No!"

"Is he single?"

"Tony -,"

"Who is he?"

Pepper paused. Then she promptly decided to play hard - because secretly she is a menace and Tony is right. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Fast forward the next day; she saw Happy exiting her beloved cat cafe and entering the limo he drives to drop Tony off at work.

She didn't even hesitate; she pulled open the passenger door and slid into the empty seat.

"Fancy seeing you here," she cocked her head, smiling syrupy sweet.

Tony Stark stared wide eyed, like he'd been caught red-handed with a cookie jar.

"Ah HAH!" Pepper pointed at him.

No matter how much Tony denied: "It is not what you think it is!", don't believe him.

It was exactly what it was. In fact, that was how it started.

But Steve never talked to Pepper as much as he talked to Tony. So he obviously thought what Tony claims is right.

That the reason the wildly famous Tony Stark started frequenting Bucky's cat cafe is because he loves cats, and the moment he learned his PA had been hiding this cafe’s existence from him, he bribed her with fancy shoes to get the address.

Happy would say, bullshit.

But as it is, Happy works for Tony and Tony bribes him with a free sandwich of the day every time they visit the cafe to keep his trap shut.

(What can Happy do in the face of excellent sandwiches and delicious Caramel Macchiato? They do say it’s hard to get the caramel swirls on top of the whipped cream right, and whoever makes his drink does it perfectly each time. So at least for the love of that talent, Happy keeps his mouth shut.)

So, when Bucky taps the caramel bottle on the counter and grumbles, “Are you gonna ever ask him out?” - Steve blushes the deepest shade of pink and pries his eyes away from Tony.

“Why would I ever do that?” He busies himself with… nothing.

“Uh, I don’t know Stevie, maybe the fact that he keeps coming back here asking for this vile shit," he pauses to press the cap delicately over the large Caramel Macchiato. "Or that he’s giving you pathetic googly eyes all the time?”

Bucky glares at Steve then he directs that glare at the drink he loathes making the most with all the venom in the world.

“Wherever he’s putting this cursed thing into," he shoves it at Steve. “Here. Go call for your knight in… whatever the fuck he’s wearing.”

Steve turns to look at where Tony’s sitting; in the far left corner in the back of the cafe; in his pinstripe suit and daisy dotted tie paired with white, also daisy dotted, sneakers and a pair of orange-tinted glasses.

Alpine - Bucky's white Turkish Angora - sits pristinely on the table in front of Tony looking like she’s giving him a lecture on something - like father, like daughter - while Tony stares right back at her challengingly.

Liho, who’s Natasha’s favourite kitten (no matter how fervently Natasha denies having a favourite at all) is lounging next to Tony, tail draped lazily over his lap. Mrs Berry in all her tortoiseshell glory, is licking her butt on Tony’s left. Grey Mr Goose is sniffing Tony’s shoes and rubbing up his shin.

Behind the cash-counter, Steve sighs like the hopeless man he is. Bucky’s bemused gaze bores into him steadily.

Steve bristles, “I don’t see what’s wrong with what he’s wearing.” Because as much as Bucky’s wrong about Tony being interested in Steve in any way, he is right in assuming that Steve is.

As a matter of fact, he’s balancing precariously between sanity and lovesick insanity and with every visit from Tony, he’s tipping dangerously towards the latter. Fantastic.

“Idiot,” Bucky snorts, turning to the kitchen. "At least ask him to change the fucking order. For fucks’ sake.”

Which leaves Steve alone with Tony, since it’s 8.30pm on a Tuesday and the cafe would never see a slower business hour than that.

Heaving out a heavy sigh, Steve puts the drink on a tray and checks his reflection on the microwave’s shiny surface - courtesy of Phil, their clean-freak coworker - before he moves.

It’s both scary and amazing how each time he makes his way to Tony, his heart would pitter patter and trip in its running behind his ribcage. So is the way he’d inhale sharply, lashes fluttering when they lock eyes and Tony smiles and -

Steve could just die right then and there.

The first time Steve talked to Tony; he vividly remembers it being a horrible day.

Everything had gone wrong from when the alarm went off that morning - A series of misfortunate events, and he’d just bribed Clint with a promise of dinner from his wallet in exchange for his extra shirt because an idiot on the freeway had driven through a puddle of rainwater soaking Steve dirty and wet.

Then, he’d stepped behind the cash counter for his turn at taking orders when a rich-looking asshole in a gaudy get up started yanking on Steve’s already frayed nerves. The man, with his stupid beard and flashy glasses rattled off what he’d probably thought an impossible order.

But Bucky was the barista for that hour and Steve had never come across an order Buck couldn’t whip up till this day. Right then though, he was calmly speckling cocoa dust on a mocha, letting Steve face their new customer who had evidently walked in to test their capability.

Unfortunately for all parties involved, it was just not Steve’s day.

“Do you want anything else?” He’d asked, after dotting pointedly on the cup.

Tony had leered at him, saying: “Maybe a little smile for the service,” and Steve fucking snapped.

“I’m sorry. But we don’t serve that for assholes.”

He could see Bucky freeze next to him. Tony, on the other hand, looked fully offended. “Excuse me?” he started, peering above his purple glasses, gearing up for a fight and Steve wasn’t going to back down either - putting the empty cup aside as he inhaled and squared up his shoulders.

But Bucky broke it off before it could even begin.

“Rogers, go make sure Barton is not ruining my sourdough,” he spoke up, flat toned, and he squeezed Steve’s arm warningly before offering his best smile to Tony. “I’m sorry, sir. We just ran out of cardamom so if you don’t mind excluding that from your order, I could whip it up for you just fine.”

The sudden professionalism was so jarring for both men that they each stuttered out an affirmative response and that was that.

Steve went into the kitchen, finished his shift, put an end to his awful day and he forgot all about the asshole customer. Until a week after when he returned.

“One caramel macchiato with perfected caramel swirl for Happy Hogan,” Steve places the tray in front of Tony.

Alpine hops down and leaves, bringing her gang with. Tony’s eyes trail after the number of swishing tails, as well as Steve’s.

“They really do like you,” Steve tells him, turning back to Tony with a teasing glint in his eyes; cheeks straining hard to keep a happy smile inside. "Nobody gets that much attention all at once."

Tony snorts, leaning forward in his seat, and he looks up from the rim of his glasses. "Pretty sure it's an intimidation tactic," he squints his eyes at Steve.

"Whatever for," Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck and he looks down at his feet before looking up at Tony. “Are you gonna stay here longer? I was wondering if I should make yours to go or to have here.”

“Oh,” Tony glances at the tray, “So that’s why my drink is not here then,” he grins at Steve.

“You didn’t even notice.”

“Too busy noticing you.”

Steve blinks, “What’s that?”

“To have here,” Tony declares loudly, his eyes flicker as if they’re hiding something, and his next words come out softer, “If you don’t mind having me here for long, that is.”

Steve’s pretty sure he’s blushing; at least his ears must be the shade of tomatoes in the Spring. At least. “No. I - Of course not.” Could have said, stay forever please but luckily for Steve even his self-deprecating tendency has mercy on him. “Shall we?” He signals.

Tony’s eyes go wide as a saucer. “You’re letting me watch you make it?” And there’s excitement in there, Steve could taste it, even if Tony is trying so hard to keep it contained.

“I mean, we’re not busy now,” he shrugs and the doorbell dings, seeing the only couple who was there out. “And we’re closing in fifteen minutes so…” Steve turns back to Tony, mouth stretching slowly into a smile, eyes twinkling and he could see Tony’s face wearing his reflection as he stands up.

“Lead the way, fine Sir.”

Changing opinions is not an easy thing to do; especially those cemented so strongly from first impressions.

Seeing Tony the second time immediately made Steve’s spine tense up. But he’s been on this job for a very long time and he knows how to keep feelings away from his profession. He looks Tony straight in the eyes and beamed at him like sunshine.

“Hello! Welcome to Purricano, what would you like to have today?”

Steve distinctly remembers Tony’s eyes going saucer shape wide that day; two rapid blinks and a slack jaw which required Steve’s arched eyebrows to work. (If you ask Tony, of course he’s going to deny that.)

“You’re smiling today,” he squinted. “Why are you smiling? Do I have something on my face?” His eyes flashed towards the nearest reflective surface and Steve swallowed a bubbling laugh.

“Except for your fashionable pink sunglasses, I assure you, there is nothing on your face, Mister,” (and your stupid goatee), Steve kept smiling creepily.

Tony’s eyes grew narrower, and he glanced over his shoulder once - making sure no one else was waiting in line - before leaning close to the counter. He beckoned at Steve with one elegant finger, and he hushed, “Do you really think it’s fashionable?”

And the first bubble of laughter escaped out of Steve’s chest that day.

Never stopped ever since.

Tony makes him happy. There’s no denying in that.

It’s probably why Bucky keeps pestering Steve to ask him out; because it’s been years since Steve last laughed. Genuinely, and this loud.

“Oh god,” he clutches his stomach, wiping tears from his eyes.

The horrible latte art Tony attempted stares back with ugly googly eyes when he looks down and he bursts into another fit of laughter.

He could feel one of the felines’ tail curling around his ankle curiously, and a pair of large green eyes peer up at him longingly with an accompanying pitiful meow.

“Not,” Steve tells her.

None of the cats are allowed on the counter; even Alpine doesn’t get the pass. But she likes to try the most out of them all. The rest are already settled for bedtime, and Steve briefly thanks his quick wit to flip the sign close on the front door before he starts showing Tony around.

He turns to him with aching cheeks, tingling skin but the remnant of his grin dies when he sees Tony’s face. Something else takes residence in his belly instead; wings flapping neurotically, lifting to fly away.

“What?” he asks, lashes fluttering, breath sticking like glue on the lining of his throat. Because Tony looks dazed, like he’d just witnessed something divine but got no vocabulary enough to describe what was that.

He shakes his head, inhale sounding sharp, and he tries to bury his words under a chuckle but Steve hears him this time. “You’re beautiful.”

Loud like a Church’s bell, echoing even after and Steve’s heart stutters in his chest. Hope, blossoms like Queen of the Night; rapid and shy. Would die with a single ‘no’ from Tony, would probably never bloom again after this, but the hope is heavy as well as pretty; pushes Steve to ask Tony, “Did you mean that?”

Tony’s eyes snap up and Steve could see the same hope growing in them. “Are you kidding me?” he asks, voice high with a nervous tremor and it comes out like a breathy bark. His shoulders come loose, all limbs as well, and he reaches out for Steve before he stops himself.

Can I? His eyes ask, and Steve takes a step forward. Of course; his gesture screams. Of course, you can.

Tony's hand touches his cheek and Steve thinks maybe this Queen of the night would live to see daylights.

He shudders, full body. Closes his eyes tight and wills those butterflies in his belly to calm down. He smells Tony before he hears him; spice and a spilled can of cinnamon from just now. "Shh," Tony tells him. "Shh," and Steve sighs into his palm.

His thumb drags a stripe under his eye, and Tony says, "God, Steve… Can't you see how bad I want you?"

The truth is no. Steve didn't see it. He shakes his head.

"Why'd you think I keep coming back," Tony asks, so close now that Steve swears he could hear the rumble in his chest even if their bodies are not touching. Yet.

Feeling somewhat more grounded, he guesses, "For the cats?"

And Tony laughs.

Not just a little but a full hearty laugh that makes him wheeze.

"Oh no," he splutters, trying to gather himself apiece while Steve's surprise slowly shifts into a scowl.

"No, no, no," he chants, reaching for Steve again, catching his face with two hands, cupping and Tony's so bright with joy when he presses their foreheads together.

"Steve, Steve, Steven," he breathes. "Honey, I can’t go near a cat without popping twenty antihistamines."

"I'm allergic to them."

"What?" Steve pulls back. More shocked than surprise now. "But -,"

"It's you," Tony cuts him off, pulling him back by his hips, and he butts his head into Steve’s breastbone. Buries his next words in there; "I fell in love with you, Rogers. Not them.”

And he sounds almost whiny but Steve can see now, why; can’t believe Tony’s been inhaling allergy medications to see Steve -

“Jesus Christ.” A little frustration seeps into Steve’s own voice as he buries his fingers into Tony’s hair. “I can’t believe you’re allergic to cats.”

A betrayed meow sounded from below and both of them look down to find Liho, gazing expectantly at Tony. “Meow,” she says again.

“Think you got some explaining to do,” Steve smirks, looking at Tony. As if on cue, Tony sneezes so hard that Liho jumps a foot in the air before scrambling away in fear.

“Oh uh,” he cups his mouth and nose, blinking at Steve, lost.

And Steve knows it’s bad to laugh, but he couldn’t help it. At least he saves himself with a smooth invite when he’d calmed down. “Wanna wait outside? Let me close the shop and we’ll…”

“Dinner?”

“Definitely.”

“Great!” Tony grins at him so prettily and Steve, with his heart fluttering in its cage, leans in and kisses him sweet.

#stony #stevetony #mine #prompts

118 notes · View notes

petrichoravellichor · 3 years

Text

Title: A New Kind of Life

Wordcount: ~10k

Rating: T

Summary: What if, when Sam and Dean break into the Empty, Cas isn’t the only one they save? A post-15x19 fix-it fic in which Crowley gets a second shot at the redemption (and family) he deserves.

(Read on Ao3)

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

Chapter 2 (of 5) (Ch. 1, Ch. 3, Chs. 4 & 5)

Days go by. Crowley remains in his room, keeping the door locked and stubbornly ignoring any attempts by Sam or Dean to gain entrance, although he does spare a breath to shout that if they want something to do, they can go ward the rest of the Bunker against further intrusions from certain Hell witches. In the end, the brothers leave him alone, and Crowley tells himself he’s glad. It nearly works; he is, after all, a very good liar, even to himself.

Then comes a newer knock, a softer one, followed by a voice Crowley recognizes as belonging to the new God-Kid, Jack: “Hello? Mr. Crowley? Are you still in there?”

And maybe it’s because he’s bored—it’s certainly not because he’s lonely— but Crowley decides to answer. “Why are you knocking?” he snaps. “Can’t you just blow the bloody door off its hinges?”

A beat of silence; then: “I...could, but it wouldn’t be very polite.”

Wouldn’t be very—?! Crowley gapes at the door; dear God, the boy really was Castiel’s son. Eventually, Crowley asks, “What do you want?”

“Do you know how to play chess?”

Whatever Crowley is expecting, it isn’t that. He goes to the door, unlatching the bolt and opening it a crack. “What?”

“Do you know how to play chess?” Jack repeats and holds up a battered old set. “I found this in the storeroom a while back, but I don’t know how to play, and neither do Sam or Dean.”

And it’s...strange. Crowley knows, logically, that this is the golden-eyed man he saw in the Empty, the supremely powerful being who is not only Lucifer’s spawn but also the new God; he knows this...yet somehow, as Jack stands before him and smiles almost shyly, Crowley can’t help but think Jack looks rather...small.

He frowns, opening the door wider. “What about Castiel?” Crowley demands archly. “Surely he’s familiar with what it means to be a pawn.”

Unfortunately, the jab appears to go right over the boy’s head. “He knows what all the pieces are called,” Jack says, nodding, “but he’s never played before. Have you?”

Crowley has. He actually rather likes chess, although it’s been some time since he’s faced a worthy opponent. As King of Hell, he’d of course been able to order other demons to play with him, but most of them were so abysmally bad at it that he’d stopped bothering after a while. “Why do you ask?” he says, instead of answering.

“Will you teach me?”

The request catches Crowley off-guard; he can’t help but feel it’s some sort of joke. “You want me,” he says slowly, “to teach you how to play chess.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Oh.” Jack’s face falls; he looks down. “Okay. Sorry for bothering you; I’ll leave you alone.”

Jack turns and begins to walk away, and the sight really shouldn’t bother Crowley...but it does. He feels a sort of painful pressure building in his chest, and suddenly, the thought of being alone any longer is downright unbearable. Bollocks...

“Wait!” Crowley calls, stepping out into the hallway as Jack turns to peer hopefully over his shoulder. “Just...wait. I’ve changed my mind. The answer is yes.”

Jack beams. “You mean it?”

And he looks so bloody happy that Crowley has to focus his gaze on Jack’s shoulder; looking too long at that smile feels like staring into the sun. “I said as much,” he grumbles. “What more do you want?”

“Can we play in the library? The lighting’s better there.”

Crowley flicks his gaze back to Jack’s face, fully prepared to say no, they’ll play in his quarters or not at all...but Jack is giving him these blasted, begging eyes that Crowley would bet good money were learned from Sam, and what actually comes out is, “Lead the way.”

*****

They take to having daily lessons in the library. Crowley demonstrates various openings and defenses, and when they progress to actual matches, he shows no mercy, checkmating Jack’s king in what feels like a record number of moves.

Still, what Jack lacks in natural ability, he makes up for with eagerness to learn and ample appreciation of Crowley’s knowledge, which is...actually rather nice, if Crowley’s being honest with himself; he can’t remember the last time anyone appreciated him for anything.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel look in on them from time to time, although Crowley pretends not to notice them. Once, he catches a glimpse of a woman Jack says is called Eileen Leahy.

“She’s Sam’s girlfriend,” Jack explains brightly as he takes one of Crowley’s pawns with his remaining bishop. “Sam brought her back from the dead after a hellhound killed her.”

Ah. That explains the dirty look...Crowley frowns, moving a knight to capture Jack’s bishop. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Sam, years ago, that he hadn't known who Eileen was when he lent a hellhound to the British Men of Letters, and besides, they were the ones who’d decided to sic said hellhound on the woman, not him. It’s not his fault the bastards had apparently thought it sporting to use an invisible weapon against someone who couldn’t hear it coming. If Crowley had wanted to kill Eileen, he would have at least had the decency to use a weapon she could see. Still, what’s done is done, and Crowley does his best not to dwell on it. The topic of hellhounds is, after all, rather painful at present, given that he still doesn’t know what’s become of Juliet.

Not for the first time, Crowley curses himself for losing his temper with his mother before having learned the fate of his favorite hellhound. Was Juliet still in Hell, where he’d left her? Had she been well-cared for in his absence? What if one of his adversaries had harmed her out of spite? What if his mother had harmed her out of spite? Crowley has no way of knowing, not unless he wants to contact his mother again or just show up in Hell, and neither option inspires optimism. Rowena could very easily lie to him over the phone, and setting foot in Hell feels far too akin to walking into a trap: enough of Crowley’s enemies have probably survived the past few years that he’d be stabbed the moment he got through the gates, and for what? Only to learn that Juliet had been butchered years ago? At least as things currently are, he can still hold onto the chance, however slim, that Juliet is alive. If only there were some way to know…

Go on then, universe, Crowley thinks savagely, give me a bloody sign.

No sooner does the thought form than Crowley hears the click of paws against the Bunker's floor. He freezes, hardly daring to believe...but his hopes are abruptly dashed when a moment later, a tan, scruffy-looking mutt who is neither Juliet nor a hellhound enters the library. The dog pauses when it catches sight of him seated across from Jack at the table, then growls.

Jack looks over and smiles. “Hey, boy, it’s okay,” he calls soothingly, reaching a hand down to get the dog’s attention. “This is Mr. Crowley; he’s a friend. Come say hi.”

To Crowley's surprise, the dog scampers forward, apparently willing to take Jack’s word on the matter. It stops next to Crowley’s chair and sniffs him curiously until Crowley reaches out and hesitantly pats its head, at which point it starts wagging its tail and lets out a friendly sort of bark. The sound fills Crowley with a sense of unexpected warmth.

“When did you lot get a dog?” he asks, glancing back at Jack as the dog lies down at his feet.

“A little over a week ago,” Jack replies. “Dean found him after Chuck made everyone disappear. His name is Miracle.”

“Miracle,” Crowley repeats, looking down at the dog, which yawns back at him, apparently settling in for a nap. “Of course.”

After they finish their lesson, Crowley starts to return to his room, only to hear Miracle trailing after him into the hall. He turns to regard the dog with a frown.

“If it’s treats you’re after,” Crowley says, “I haven’t got any.”

Miracle cocks his head, seeming to consider him for a moment, then pads over, tail wagging and eyes bright. “Woof.”

Crowley arches a brow. “You don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

“Woof.”

“Right.” Crowley sighs. “Well, come on, then,” he says, turning and continuing the rest of the way to his room, Miracle trotting alongside him. “You’re no hellhound, but I suppose you’ll do for company.”

And to himself, with grudging approval: Well played, universe. Well played.

*****

More days pass. Crowley spends most of his time in his room, leafing through books borrowed from the Bunker library with Miracle curled up at the foot of his bed. The dog comes to visit him more often than not, scratching insistently at the door until Crowley lets him in. Having him around doesn’t make Crowley’s anxieties over Juliet fade away, but it does lessen the sting of her absence, if only a little.

Jack also stops by with increasing frequency, and Crowley honestly still doesn’t know what to make of him. Lucifer’s blood flows in the boy’s veins, and by all accounts, that should make Jack terrible beyond reason, a vicious, manipulative creature whose only goal is to bring about the downfall of mankind in the most horrible way imaginable.

Instead, Jack sits cross-legged on Crowley’s bed and talks cheerfully about Star Wars or whatever other interest has his attention that day, and his only vice seems to be an insatiable sweet tooth. During one of his visits, he asks about Crowley’s life before they met, and there’s something so maddeningly sincere about the way he does it that Crowley finds himself telling Jack more than he means to, about himself, about Hell, about his mother...

By the time he finishes, Crowley feels raw and a little embarrassed at having said so much, but Jack just smiles softly. “It’s okay, Mr. Crowley,” he says. “We can be more than the people we come from; my dads taught me that. We can choose to be good.”

Crowley isn’t so sure about that, at least not as far as he himself is concerned. His soul is about as damned as a soul can get, and besides, his choices have a nasty habit of blowing up in his face. Still, it’s...a nice thought, if nothing else.

He’s still thinking about it later that night, long after Jack’s gone off to Heaven for a bit to do whatever it is he and Amara do up there. Crowley’s sitting in the dark kitchen having a cup of tea—cheap stuff that comes in a bag, unfortunately, but at least there’d been a kettle—when Castiel appears in the doorway, an almost-silhouette against the soft glow of the hall light, and peers in at him through the darkness.

Crowley stares stonily back. Apparently, his assessment of the shift in Dean and Castiel's dynamic had been correct: Castiel is barefoot, wearing a t-shirt and sweats that were probably once Dean’s or maybe still are. Crowley can practically smell Dean’s scent on the clothes even from where he sits, and the low-quality tea does nothing to chase the bitterness from his mouth. Who would have thought that all it would take to tear away whatever final shred of heterosexuality Dean Winchester had been clinging to all these years was a deathbed love confession followed by a romp in the Empty? Not that Crowley cares a whit about that; he doesn't, not even a little bit, not at all.

“Hello, Castiel,” he says darkly. “Out for a stroll? You should try the dungeon; from what I recall, it’s lovely this time of night.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t know,” he says evenly, “having never spent the night there.” Then, before Crowley can think of a suitable comeback, Castiel gestures at an empty stool on the other side of the table. “May I?”

Crowley shrugs. “This is your home, not mine. You don’t need my permission to do anything.”

“Even so, I’d like to have it.”

“Then consider it had. I’ll take my tea elsewhere.”

Castiel frowns. “There’s no need for that.”

Crowley lets his eyes linger on Castiel’s shirt, on Dean’s shirt, then snaps his gaze back to Castiel’s face. “Not for you, perhaps.”

Silence. Crowley is hyperaware of the clock on the wall, ticking out each passing second as they stare each another down, and he half hopes Castiel will charge, practically dares him to. Crowley’s not stupid—he knows his odds against an ordinary angel aren't particularly good, let alone a former leader of garrisons—but at the moment, he doesn’t care: worst-case scenario, Castiel kills him and he goes back to the Empty. Maybe if Crowley's lucky, he’ll actually get a funeral this time.

Eventually, however, Castiel’s shoulders relax, and he sighs. “You should know,” he says, quietly, “I bear you no ill will over our past grievances.”

Crowley bristles; for a second, he considers getting up and throwing the first punch himself. He isn’t sure what Castiel is playing at, but whatever it is, he’s not in the mood for games. “Of course you don’t," he growls. "They all worked out in your favor.”

Castiel regards him carefully. “You’re referring to Dean.”

“I’m referring to everything!” Crowley snaps, nearly shattering his cup as he slams it down on the table. “Haven’t you noticed, Castiel? Your choices are lauded, held up as grand examples of what one does for love, and mine?” He lets out a mirthless laugh that comes out closer to a sob. “Mine end with me on the business end of an angel blade, dying for a world where I’m not even missed, not by Dean or anyone else.”

No sooner does he say the words than Crowley feels like he can’t breathe. Which is stupid, because he doesn’t need to breathe, hasn’t for centuries, but the feeling’s there all the same. The place his heart would be if he still had one aches; it’s as though a well-healed scar in his chest has been sliced wide open and now Crowley’s choking on all the blood. He blinks back the bitter tears he can feel prickling at his eyes, staring fixedly down at the tabletop and wishing it would swallow him whole.

Eventually, he manages to get himself under control, and by the time the choking feeling subsides, Crowley is more exhausted than angry. Maybe Dean should have left him in the Empty after all, he thinks tiredly; it would have saved a good deal of heartache.

Through it all, Castiel remains silent; when Crowley finally looks up at him, he’s surprised to be met with something strangely akin to pity. Ordinarily, it would be infuriating, but right now, Crowley just can’t find the energy to give a damn; he slumps forward over the table and sighs. “What is it you want, Castiel?” he asks listlessly. “You came here to say something, so by all means, say it. There’s nothing you can take from me that I haven’t already lost.”

For a moment, Castiel lingers on the threshold; then he steps into the dark kitchen and sits across from Crowley at the table. Crowley waits, expecting to be told off...but when Castiel speaks, his tone is surprisingly, solemnly gentle.

“I wanted to thank you,” he says, “for the interest you’ve taken in Jack. What he’s been going through lately...facing Chuck, rebuilding Heaven...it’s been a great deal of change very suddenly. He’s trying so hard, and Sam, Dean, and I are supporting him as best we can, as is Amara, but it's still an incredible burden for a child to bear.” Castiel smiles sadly. “Especially when it’s so easy for others to forget that he’s a child.”

As he listens to Castiel speak, Crowley thinks back to that day in the Empty, at the cosmically powerful golden-eyed being who shielded him, shielded all of them, from the surrounding darkness. Jack is powerful in ways Crowley can only begin to imagine...but he’s also more than that. He's the boy who knocked timidly on Crowley's door and asked to learn chess, the boy who sits on the edge of Crowley’s bed and talks to him and smiles in delight when Miracle chases his tail. He’s curious and well-mannered and kind and—

And God, Crowley realizes with a start; bloody hell, when had he grown so fond of God?

“But, as I was saying,” Castiel says, snapping Crowley out of his thoughts, “the time you’ve been spending with him, treating him like he’s anyone else, giving him space to just be himself...it’s been good for him.” A pause, then: “You’ve been good for him. And while you and I have had our differences—”

Crowley can’t help it; he snorts. “That’s putting it mildly,” he says, and Castiel actually cracks a smile before continuing:

“—and while you and I have had our differences, Jack’s happiness takes precedence over all of them. He’s my son, and you matter to him.” He looks at Crowley intently, then adds, in a tone of absolute certainty, “And he would miss you if you were gone.”

The weight of Castiel’s words nearly knocks Crowley to the floor. He’s never mattered to anyone before, and now...now he matters to God. Crowley swallows; he doesn’t know what to say.

Castiel seems to understand, though. They sit in silence, and it’s not exactly amicable, but it’s not strained, either. Like for the first time since Castiel entered the kitchen, there’s enough space in the room for both of them.

Eventually, Crowley clears his throat. “There’s still some water left in the kettle,” he says, “if you’d like a cup of tea.” Then, because he doesn’t want to appear too agreeable, he gestures despairingly down at his cup and adds, “although what passes for Earl Grey according to Winchester tastes is, unsurprisingly, questionable at best.”

And Castiel, to Crowley’s surprise, smirks. “Leave that to me,” he says, rising and heading over to the cupboard. “I know where Sam hides the stash Rowena gave him for Christmas.”

#crowley #spn crowley #fergus macleod #crowley macleod #jack kline #spn #supernatural #spn fic #spn fix-it fic #spn spoilers #a new kind of life #my writing #this was supposed to go up tomorrow but i finished editing early and figured what the heck #one less thing to worry about tomorrow :)

28 notes · View notes

elliemarchetti · 4 years

Text

Red Queen Pride and Prejudice AU (Part 1)

@lilyharvord hope you like it!

Masterlist

Words: 2391

It’s a universally recognized truth that a bachelor in possessing of a large fortune should need a wife. However little you may know about the feelings or points of view of such a man on his first appearance in the neighborhood, this truth is so firmly fixed in the minds of the district’s families that he was considered the legitimate property of one or the other of their daughters.

“My dear Mr. Barrow,” his lady told him one day, “did you know that finally the Hall of the Sun has been rented?”

Mr. Barrow replied no and although his lack of interest was evident, his wife continued with her speech anyway, until, impatient at the absence of an answer, she asked him if he wasn’t interested in knowing who possessed enough fortune to be able to afford it.

"You want to tell me, and I have nothing against listening,” he replied, enigmatic as always. He had always been a bizarre man, but the war accident that forced him into a wheelchair had somehow accentuated his wit and sarcasm, and despite twenty-three years had passed, his wife, a woman with a simple mind, of low intelligence and even less culture, still struggled to understand him, but somehow it seemed enough for the man, and he loved her dearly.

“Well, my dear,” she continued, “you must know that Mrs. Long says the Hall of the Sun was rented by a young man who arrived Monday to see the place, and was so delighted that he will send his servants toward the end of the week.”

"And what’s his name, may I ask?”

“Samos,” replied the woman, innocently. Mr. Barrow knew that name well, as it was that of the family who owned the largest mines in the kingdom, but he didn’t know if their son was a bachelor or not, an answer that soon came from his wife.

“Oh! Bachelor, my dear, you can be sure! What a beautiful thing for our girls! ”

“Why on earth? What do they have to do with it?” he asked, even though he had already guessed his wife’s plan to marry him to one of their daughters. What his spouse didn’t take into consideration was that this might not be the primary interest of the young heir to an industry that seemed to be making him richer and richer: after all, they weren’t a rich nor noble family, and all they had was earned from their work in the textile industry and his and his three sons’ military career.

“Since he’s young, it’s very likely that he can fall in love with one of our girls, and so you must visit him as soon as he arrives,” replied his wife, as if she had not understood that the flow of his thoughts had gone far beyond.

“I see no reason to do that. You and the girls can go without me, or you can send them alone, which maybe will be better, since you’re as beautiful as they are and Mr. Samos could consider you the best of the bunch.”

"My dear, you flatter me. Sure, I had my share of beauty, but now I don’t claim to be anything extraordinary, but don’t try to distract me: you really must go.”

"It’s more than I can commit to doing, I assure you.”

“But think of your daughters. Just think of what arrangement it would be for one of them. The Skonos are determined to go just for this reason, and you know that they generally don’t visit newcomers. You have to go, because if you don’t, it would be impossible for us to visit him.”

"Surely you have too many scruples: I really think that Mr. Samos will be delighted to meet you, and I’ll send through you my cordial consent to his marriage to whichever girl he prefers, although I’ll have to put in a good word for my little Mare.”

"Do me the pleasure of not doing such a thing. Mare is nothing better than Gisa and I’m sure she isn’t half as beautiful or half as jovial as her, but you always prefer her over your other daughter.”

"That’s because I have to balance your obvious preference for Gisa,” the man replied, and not knowing how to win that argument, Mrs. Barrow appealed to her most famous excuse, her feeble nerves.

“Ah, you don’t know how much I suffer.”

“But I hope you will be able to heal, and live to see many young men with four thousand a year arrive in the neighborhood. ”

“It wouldn’t do any good even if twenty came, seen that you are not going to visit them,” she replied, angrily.

“Count on it, my dear, that when they will be twenty, I’ll go and visit every one!” he exclaimed, and walked away, leaving her to wonder if he would go or not, an answer she received the next week, during a conversation that occupied the whole family, in which her husband threw a few clues about his secret visit to Mr. Samos that morning.

“I’m tired of Mr. Samos!” exclaimed his wife, after a while.

“I’m sorry, but why didn’t you tell me before? If I had at least known it this morning, I certainly wouldn’t have gone to visit him. It’s really unfortunate, but since I did indeed visited him, now we can no longer avoid him,” he replied, although it really was exactly what he would’ve wanted; even if he was handsome, with an elegant appearance and formal manners, everything in him seemed forced and his expression wasn’t very nice. Even Shade, his third son, who had accompanied him in his visit, didn’t liked him that much, and it was a very strange event, given his character. Anyway, the two had decided not to spoil the enthusiasm of the women and not to instill in them any bad judgment, so, thanks to the general excitement, they retired ahead of time, followed by Bree, who had no interest in dances and social events of that kind, and which would shortly be called back to serve in the army.

"What an excellent father you have!” exclaimed Mrs. Barrow, as soon as she was left alone with Tramy, her favorite son, and the two youngest.

“I don’t know how you can ever repay his kindness; or mine too, for that matter. At our age, I tell you, it’s not so pleasant to make new acquaintances every day; but for your sake we would do anything. Gisa, my darling, even if you are the youngest, I really believe that Mr. Samos will be your knight at the next ball.”

Mare was used to that kind of preference, and she spent the rest of the evening speculating about when Mr. Samos would return Mr. Barrow’s visit, and deciding when they should’ve invited him to lunch. The visit was returned within a few days, but although Mr. Samos had hoped of being admitted to the presence of the young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard a lot, he saw only their father. The ladies were a little luckier, as they had the advantage of ascertaining, from a window upstairs, that he was wearing a black jacket and was riding a wonderful thoroughbred stallion. Immediately afterwards an invitation to dinner was sent, and Mrs. Barrow had already planned the dishes that would do her honor when a postponing reply arrived: Mr. Samos was forced to be in town the following day, and consequently was unable to accept the honor of their invitation. Mrs. Barrow was utterly shocked: she couldn’t imagine what he could do so shortly after his arrival that requested his presence at Archeon and she began to fear that he might pass quickly from one place to the other without ever stopping at the Hall of the Sun for the time due. Lady Skonos calmed her fears a little by saying that perhaps he had gone to the capital only to gather a large party for the ball, and soon afterwards news came that Mr. Samos would take twelve ladies and seven gentlemen with him to the party. The girls worried about the number of ladies, but the day before the dance they consoled themselves by learning that, instead of twelve, he would take only six with him, the sister, a dear friend and four cousins, but when the party arrived, he made his entry into the ballroom with just four people, being them his sister, a beautiful woman with an undeniable elegance, this mysterious friend, a noble lady with the appearance of a princess, a cousin and another young man., General Calore, who immediately attracted the attention of the room for his tall and refined figure, his beautiful features and his noble bearing : the gentlemen thought him a refined-looking man, the ladies proclaimed that he was far more attractive than Mr. Samos, and he was object of great admiration for about half of the evening, up when his manner aroused a disapproval that reversed the course of his popularity; it turned out that he was proud, that he thought himself above the company and did nothing to make himself pleasant, and not even his vast estate in Harbor Bay could save him from having a hostile and unpleasant face, not to be worthy of comparison with the other guest, who had immediately made acquaintance with more people and was lively and expansive, danced every round and regretted it was over so soon. These amiable qualities spoke for themselves. What a contrast between him and his friend! General Calore, on his part, danced once with Miss Samos and once with Lady Haven, refused to be introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening wandering around the room, occasionally talking to someone from his group. He was the most haughty man in the world and everyone hoped he would never show up again, more than anyone else Mrs. Barrow, whose disapproval of his behavior was sharpened by a particular resentment, given he had snubbed one of her daughters: Mare Barrow had been forced by the shortage of men to remain seated for two rounds of dance, and during one of these moments, General Calore found himself standing close enough to allow her to hear unseen a conversation between him and Mr. Samos, who had stopped dancing for a few minutes and approached his friend to persuade him to join him.

"Come on, Cal,” he said, “I have to make you dance. I hate seeing you standing there alone in such a stupid way. ”

“I won’t do it for sure. You know how much I hate it, unless I know my lady well. In a place like this it would be unbearable. Your sisters are busy, and in the hall there’s no other woman with whom for me to dance with wouldn’t be one punishment.”

“I wouldn’t want to be as picky as you are,” exclaimed Mr. Samos, “for all the gold in the world!”

“You’re dancing with the only attractive girl in the room,” said General Calore, looking at Lady Skonos, “at the moment the least of your interests is gold, be it in your coffers or in the rest of the world! “

"There’s a friend of hers sitting right behind you: let me ask my lady to introduce you. ”

“Who are you talking about?” asked General Calore, and turning, he looked for a moment at Mare, until, having met her gaze, he averted his and said coldly she was passable, but not pretty enough to tempt him.

“I’m not in the mood to take care of young ladies neglected by other men, so you better go back to your lady and enjoy her smiles, because with me, you’re wasting your time.”

Mr. Samos followed his advice, and General Calore walked away, leaving Mare with far from cordial feelings towards him. However, she told the story to her friends with great wit since she enjoyed seeing the comic side in everything and didn’t wanted to completely ruin a evening that passed pleasantly for the whole family: Gisa had been greatly admired by Lady Elane Haven and she had danced twice with Mr. Samos’ cousin, which made her as happy as her mother, albeit in a quieter way, and Mare shared the sentiment too; Tramy had never been without a lady, and that was all he cared about in a dance, and when they all returned in good spirits to the village where they lived, they found Bree and Shade still up, both very curious about the events of an evening that had raised such amazing expectations. Somehow, Shade had hoped that his sisters’ expectations on the stranger and his retinue were disappointed, but soon he found he had to hear an entirely different story, at least from Gisa’s side.

“It was an absolutely delightful evening,” she was already telling, as soon as she had crossed the threshold of the house, “a magnificent dance. I wish you had been there too.”

“Gisa was so admired that she couldn’t have been more,” explained their mother. “All they talked about was how beautiful her dress was, and Miss Samos’s friend said she would be honored to introduce her to her brother! Also, Mr. Samos’ cousin danced twice with her, just thinking about it makes me shiver with joy; she was the only one in the room that he asked for a second dance! Mr. Samos, on the other hand, invited Miss Skonos and although I was annoyed at first, I must say that I am relieved that a much older man doesn’t think at our youngest in that way. Oh! My dear!“ Mrs. Barrow went on, "I am really thrilled with his family! His sister is so beautiful and charming, I have never in my life seen anything more elegant than her dress. I really think the lace…”

But before she could start rambling about clothing, Mare interrupted her to inform her brothers about the General rudeness.

“But I can assure you,” added Mrs. Barrow, “that Mare hasn’t lost much for not having tickled his fancy, since he’s the most unpleasant man that exists, absolutely unworthy and unbearable. I wish your father had been there, he would’ve made him regret such an attitude bitterly! ”

#pride and prejudice au #p&p au #red queen #rq #mare barrow #cal calore #evageline samos #elane haven #ptolemus samos #wren skonos #shade barrow #bree barrow #tramy barrow #ruth barrow #daniel barrow #lucas samos

37 notes · View notes

bloodieorchid · 4 years

Text

Cafe Rouge - Part 3

Cafe Rouge - Chapter Three: Cappuchino

Next ->

<- Last

<- First

A college student finds a job at an elusive coffee and book shop after the disappearance of the past barista. Only after the interview and many confidentiality agreements do you begin to learn the secrecy behind Café Rouge.

YANDERE MALE x READER, YANDERE FEMALE X READER, YANDERE NB X READER

CW: This story will contain dark subject matter regarding stalking, abuse, violence, the yandere tag in general, and more to be added as this story is written and updated. I, as a writer, do NOT condone any of the activities in this story and only seek to write a horror romance. All pronouns are gender neutral so everyone can read and imagine themselves in the story.

You could hardly sleep with the stress of the nightmare you were living. Someone was watching you, was trying to learn your name and could very possibly be behind the disappearance of Laura. Early mornings gave way into even later nights full of fear of what was to come, but it was only getting worse because you also had to work again.

“You look like shit, Rook,” Knight called out as he prepared the espresso machine for the day. He wasn’t wrong. You had bags underneath your eyes from the lack of sleep and you were lethargic from the anxiety soaking into your bones. You nodded, rolling your sleeves as you set down your belongings to prepare for the long shift at work. You also had to prepare for an exam the following day. “Long night, Shane. Long night,” you whispered as you prepared the bar for the day at work, clocking in. He sighed, “I understand that it would be a lot of stress to try and sleep during this. I’ll take the majority of the stuff this shift, you just run the register,” Shane called, rubbing your shoulder.

“I don’t want to make you have to carry for me not being able to sleep,” you called out as you frowned. You counted the cash for the register, pulling the ones and counting them from one to the other until there was enough change. “I’ve handled worse shifts. I might ask for your help, but it isn’t your fault that someone’s come after you,” he frowned as he poured the coffee beans into the grinder. The beans clattered against the class and metal of the grinder, causing you to wince.

You didn’t know if they were already listening to you, trying to find out your name and where you lived. It was a weight that would never let yourself forget. You had to find out who it was though, could it be any of the customers or your coworkers? Could it be one of your schoolmates who had watched you start a new job? You honestly didn’t know and it only made you feel more helpless in comparison. Shane stepped over, rubbing your shoulders with a sigh. “I’ve been there, (Y/N). It’ll work out, I promise,” he spoke quietly, yet reassuringly. “You speak this as if you know,” you whispered to him. He sighed, “Because I do,” he whispered.

You looked at him confused. “You wondered why Mr. Arnold always gets his drinks from me, tips me well, and honestly will ignore whoever else works here unless I’m here. He was my stalker for a while, but he realized how anxious his affection made me. He and I made an agreement and he and I get dinner once a week,” he explained as he wiped the counter. “H... He stalked you?” you asked concerned. “Not necessarily. He would watch me as I got off work, would tip me much more, and he even tried to stop one of my friends from talking to me,” he explained as he tossed you your apron for work. “What did you do?” you asked in return. He frowned. “I had to find out it was him, but then I sat down and refused to let him ruin my life. He understood that, but he felt he had to protect me? So I let him do that, but he gave me more freedom to live,” he explained as he cleaned the silver milk pitchers. “You just have to find out who and try to protect yourself, that’s all I can say,” he explained.

You sighed and nodded with a frown as you continued setting up the counter, moving to go dust off the numerous shelves of books throughout the shop. You knew that this would be the hardest, but most important day in trying to find out who you’re stalker was. Unfortunately, you hadn’t even been there for a month yet to try and find which of your regular customers was your stalker wasn’t a great way to start this new job to be completely honest.

You, by process of association, had presumed that Mr. Arnold wasn’t going to be your stalker if he was already interested in Shane or rather, Knight. However, Cafe Rouge had regulars in the double digits and it was impossible to find out who would dare stalk someone under Mr. Bishop’s protection when it was obvious he was determined to protect his employees.

It became even more confusing when the shop opened that day. Mr. Arnold came into the shop to get his usual Mexican Chiapas on espresso. “Good morning, Mr. Arnold,” you called out with a smile. He nodded with a small smile, before nodding at Knight to brew his morning espresso. “I hate to say it, Rook. But you aren’t looking so red hot.” he apologized as he was given his morning espresso. “Just a bad night’s rest, Mr. Bishop. No harm,” you gave a small smile. He sipped his espresso with a sigh. “Maybe it would be best to have your own coffee, Rook. It seems like you’re going to have a long day as well,” he explained and you chuckled, “I’ll consider it sir,” you explained. He pulled out another set of bills. “A shot of espresso for Rook as well, Knight,” he sighed as he set the money on the counter.

You glanced at Knight as he brewed the espresso. He had a confused look in his brow as he brewed the small cup of espresso, setting it next to you. You pulled out a single sugar packet to add to the espresso, but Mr. Arnold reached his hand out. “As much as sugar make things sweeter, don’t disguise the true flavor of the espresso. You have to taste the espresso, or you’re merely wearing rose-colored glasses,” he explained as he took an sip of his espresso. You nodded, taking a gulp of the bitter espresso. He finished his mug and he gave a small smile to you, before turning to Knight. “We’re still on for tomorrow, Knight?” he asked as he returned the mug. Knight nodded with a small smile. “I’ll meet you as soon as I get off,” Knight smiled as Mr. Arnold added money to the tip jars before turning and leaving.

There wasn’t enough time to discuss this, as customers continued to flood the shop. Willow entered the shop, smiling gently to you as they ordered their usual flavored latte. When you brought it over to their table, Willow looked up from their book. “What do you study?” Willow asked. You glanced at them, slightly confused. “Huh?” you asked, confused. “I-I’m sorry, I-I saw you we-were tired and assumed you were a s-student?” they stuttered nervously, wringing their hands in their shirt reminding you of you in your interview. “O-Oh, I’m in college. I just haven’t figured out my major yet,” you explained as they smiled. “You are a student too? I assume you’re going to the university up the hill?” they asked and you nodded. They smiled. “That’s my alma mater. I hope you’re enjoying it,” they smiled as they took their latte to sip it.

You returned to the counter and hoped that you would just have to find out between the two, only for more people to come into the shop. Mona returned, although significantly less frazzled but with a much longer list. “The mayor has a bunch of guests over for an early morning meeting. Luckily, they called in advance with their coffee order so we all can join the meeting,” she smiled as you rang her up. “Here’s hoping you get some rest today, Mona! It seems like you’re going to need it,” you explained as you handed her the receipt for City Hall’s records. She smiled. “Don’t worry, I have a pretty nice after work routine of self-care,” she explained before taking the drink carriers.

The shift continued on and on as more and more people came to study, drink coffee, buy books, and your suspicions only increased as you were staying through the shop and even stayed for a double shift to better get an idea of who your stalker was. Knight merely looked as you concerned as his replacement arrived.

Queen had been as beautiful as you heard, with long black hair tied into a long braid and her eyes piercing like an ancient empress. She smiled gently. “So you’re the infamous Rook. I’m Queen, it’s a pleasure. Let’s see what you have today,” she smiled, before asking for a latte while she prepared for the shift. Knight moved over, hands resting on your shoulders. “It’ll be okay, Rook. Don’t worry,” he explained as he smiled. He grabbed his jacket as Queen joined him behind the counter. Luckily for you, the afternoon shift was much slower than the morning.

Queen had brought a couple of journals to allow you to write hypotheses of who your stalker was and why: was it the young secretary at the Mayor’s office? The medical student? The realtor? Knight? Many questions lingered on your mind as sunset arrived and the shop closed. Queen glanced over, “Head home, Rook. I can close early. If you want, Mr. Bishop can drive you home?” she asked. You shook your head. You didn’t want to pull anyone else into your problems. You thanked her, before grabbing your jacket and heading out of the shop early for once.

You hurried home, not lingering in the windows as you had before. You pulled your jacket taut from the evening chill and attempting to hurry home, but you were stopped again by another alleyway clatter. You paused, glancing down the alleyway. You were desperately hoping for no sign of your stalker, no box with a creepy tarot message and a chance to be able to sleep without the feeling of being watched.

Instead, you had found two people in the dark of the alleyway. One of them, a large burly man looked dazed and confused on the ground of the alleyway. His clothing was messy and had been partially removed by the second person, a young woman with silver hair tied back in a braid. Her face was concealed by a mask and her gloves by black, latex gloves. However, you could easily see the black hilted dagger being used to separate the man’s hands from his body. You glanced on the ground to the large pile of blood to see another one of his hands already separated and his arm was tied taught with a piece of his shirt to prevent bleeding. The girl was in black clothing, however she glanced over to see bright silver eyes meet yours. A name snapped to the focus of your mind.

“Mona?”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere female x reader #female yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #yandere x you #coffee shop fic #yandere coffee shop #original work #stalker #stalker fic #gw violence #remember that oc i posted last week?#here we go again

64 notes · View notes

bssaz97 · 4 years

Note

Does juane embarrass Rowan just too mess with him every now and then. since his parents and sisters always did it to him and if so does ruby stop it or join in

Operation: Dad Trolls Son

“Making an Entrance”

Ruby: *holding her scroll recording, giggling* Hey sweetie how was your day at school?

The two hug, and quickly releases the hug. All the while Ruby is still recording the interaction.

Rowan: It was good. Learned a lot today.

Ruby: That’s good sweetie. Is Summer with you?

Rowan: No, she decided to go over to a friends house today. Also why are you holding your scroll like that?

Ruby: Oh I just wanted to record this first memory of my baby boy’s first day of Combat School. Also your dad’s come back from his mission.

Rowan: Really? Cool, I guess I can ask him how his mission weeeehat’s that noise?

*”Take On Me by a-ha” starts playing*

https://youtu.be/Q08427Of6as

Ruby: *snickering* What noise?

Rowan: Wait is that.... music? Why’s-Wait.... who’s that coming around the-? Oh. Oh no. Oh gods please no... NO!

Jaune comes around the corner while wears full suit of knight armor, doing a ridiculous dance by swaying his arms back and forth and jumping in place. He starts coming towards them drawing the attention of all the student body.

Ruby: *struggles to contain her laughter*

Rowan: No. Dad WHY?! *hands covering his atomic red face in embarrassment*

Jaune: How’s my beloved son doing on this fine day? *voice muffled by the helmet and speaking in a knightly tone*

Rowan: Please can we just go home. *removes his hands from his face to shielding the sides of his vision, unwilling to look at the other students*

Jaune: Sounds good my son. Let us be off! *turns around while continuing to dance*

Rowan follows behind his parents while Ruby is recording her son’s reaction to the entrance her husband made at his school.

“Twin Day”

Announcer: Would Rowan Rose-Arc please come to the Principal’s office. His family is here to pick him up early.

Rowan: Huh? That’s weird, Mom and Dad got off early today?

*Few Minutes Later*

Rowan: *opens office door* Hi Mrs. Scott, my parents are here?

Principal: Yes Rowan take a seat they should be here soon.

Rowan: Ok. *turns around and stops*

Seated down was both Jaune and Ruby dressed in the same clothes as Rowan was wearing and had large smiles on their faces.

Rowan: Whyyyy? Why are you like this? *he whines*

Jaune: Aw come here champ. *hugs his son*

Ruby: There, there sweetie. *joins the hug*

“Substitute Teacher*

Jill: Did you hear that we’re supposed to be getting a substitute today?

Holly: I wonder who it’s going to be?

*Classroom doors open*

Jaune: Good Morning everybody! *dressed as a teacher with glasses, a sweater and khaki pants*

Rowan: *mentally* ‘Oh gods why is he substituting today?’

Holly: Is that your Dad?

Rowan: Unfortunately...

Jaune: So today class you all were supposed to learn about the human body, so in addition to that I decided to include the subject I’m sure youths like yourselves are wondering about... Sex-Ed.

Rowan: No... please no. *crumbles down into his desk, covering his face with his arms*

Jaune: So for starters class I’m gonna teach you ten interesting facts about the male genitalia... the penis and testicles.

Rowan: Brothers just kill me. Kill me now. *head still covered*

That’s all I got right now, may go back to it later. Hope you all enjoyed, remember to stay safe and clean. Peace out guys!

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #rwby lancaster #lancaster #rwby rowan rose #lancaster child #shennanigans #anonymous asks

59 notes · View notes

fuwafuwamedb · 4 years

Text

A CCC Meeting with Proto Pt 3 (Proto Gil, Hakuno, Leo)

Previously on the Far Side of the Moon: 1, 2

___

Gilgamesh was still pulling her along when she noted the screens running in a classroom.

“Hold on.”

Hakuno freed herself, pushing the door open and glancing around. It looked like someone had actually tried to make the space more livable. A large, foreign and expensive looking rug had been spread out under a long table. The screens were moving over a bunch of data.

And there were three individuals chatting at the end of the table, by the screens, their eyes drifting to her. A young blond, a dark haired man in a big coat, and then… There was no doubt that the last was a servant. The armor and the strange facial features said he was not from around here.

“Good morning!”

What on earth…

Hakuno stared at Leo, sitting between the foreigner and Mr. Broody Coat Man, watching him smile proudly.

“…It seems that we’ve failed. Once more… Good- Come on! GOOD Morning!”

“Good morning,” the other two mumbled.

They waited, staring at her.

“Do not greet them,” Gilgamesh murmured from her other side.

“Good morning!”

Leo nodded at her, but the rather harsh pinch to her side said she’d be paying for that decision dearly.

“That was excellent. As you know, I enjoy bright and cheery-“

“The Leo I know is not like that.”

She didn’t move from the doorway, keeping a hand on Gilgamesh in case she would need him. It was early, far earlier than she’d expected for a fight, but if they wanted one, she’d bring it. It would be a good opportunity to see what kind of power Gilgamesh possessed anyway. In fact-

“Relax, Kishinami.” Leo sighed, shaking his head. His tone fell, his expression changing. “Here I had hoped to change my character completely. You would, of course, remember me well. We have things to talk about. Sit down.”

She really didn’t want to sit down.

“You already know us,” Leo argued. If we were to fight, there’d be more than me asking you to sit. I am Leo Harwey. This is my brother Julius,” he gestured to the Broody Coat guy with that before turning to the knight man. “And this is Gawain.”

Two nods.

“Hakuno,” Gilgamesh growled.

“Are you alone, Kishinami?”

“You three are here, aren’t you?”

Waiting any longer would mean confessing that Gilgamesh was with her. The man was thankfully giving her a break, pulling back, but letting her see his glare before he motioned further down the hall.

He’d be waiting, it seemed.

“Sit. Let’s not waste any more time,” Leo replied to her, gesturing to the other end of the table.

Sitting down felt like stepping into a boiling kettle.

Leo nodded.

“Sakura?”

“I’m here,” the infirmary nurse replied, forming at her side.

How much did she know right now?

Did she know that Gilgamesh had been lingering near?

“The goal of this gathering is for Team Escape the Far Side of the Moon to begin.” Leo looked at them all before sitting back. “Our former war was started when we were all absorbed into the black material that overflowed around the school. Given that many of us have lost bits and pieces of memory, it’s only right that we should piece together our intel and figure out how to get out of this endless loop.”

Sakura nodded.

“You are unfortunately repeated the day, but… My intel into looking into Miss Kishinami says that it has been three weeks’ time since the incident.”

Three weeks?!

No wonder Gilgamesh had been upset.

“Is there anything else your data is telling you?” Leo asked.

“You have been reviewing it,” Sakura pointed out. The best guess that has been offered by your brother is having been swallowed by a beast.”

A beast?

She really needed Gilgamesh now.

The fact that her skin was crawling-

“I am interested in hearing what you think, Hakuno,” Leo replied.

“I-I just woke up. I remember the battle and preparations and then… nothing.”

No, she remembered falling. She remembered the voice telling her to give in and Gilgamesh coming to her. She remembered well his blush and...

“I am intrigued, although I don’t know why,” Leo offered. “A-anyway, if we investigate further, we’ll learn about what’s going on and be able to once more resume the war without any further problems.”

“Great. Let me know what you find out.”

“See, we need someone to run the data here and someone to investigate with a servant.”

Hakuno glanced at the three men.

Leo and Gawain for investigating.

Julius for reading data…

Leo chuckled, pressing a hand to his face.

“Hakuno, as you know, I’m the best here amongst us all at analyzing.”

She didn’t know that. In fact, she didn’t really remember too much about this guy except for the fact that he was normally not bright or cheery. Most of her instincts were saying to fact check half of what he was saying right now. The boy was like a politician.

Probably had a future as one too…

“If Gawain went in, he would be at a disadvantage as well. Someone like yourself, showing an admirable amount of mana would be far more suited for the exploration.”

She felt weak…

“How many?”

“Hmm?”

Hakuno looked at the three, “How many others are on your team?”

Leo coughed.

“There were… problems. Many of the others haven’t been located. I can’t even recall our classmates right now except a few whom I suspect are masters.”

So he was having memory problems as well?

“Working with me means you get instant analysis. We could investigate into the depths of this place, escape, and be temporary allies on the other side of this far side of the moon or whatever Sakura wants to call it.” The boy waved a hand. “Waiting and seeing what will happen would mean relying on the fact that others would be open for alliances.”

Right…

Join or die.

Hakuno glanced over at Sakura, watching her fidget with her fingers. It was strangely human to see her like that. Not something she’d expect from an AI.

“Alright.” Hakuno nodded. “But Sakura gets to block all data on my servant.”

“Y-You want me to block him from the data flow?”

“I don’t want anyone seeing any information,” Hakuno agreed. “We’re temporary allies, after all.”

Leo smirked, leaning back. “Clever.”

Thankfully, she’d been thinking how much he’d hate being bothered. I should have thought about his data and information more.

Leo had the knight who was no doubt a Saber. That meant he was probably one of their worst opponents.

“Alright. Sakura will look at whatever data before I look at it, removing the data about your servant… What class is he?”

“A servant class.”

Hakuno stood up, leaving before she could cause any more trouble by not thinking.

She wasn’t meant for politics. Grail help her, she was hardly suited for a grail war with the fatigue she still felt.

I’ll investigate around a bit more and then find Gilgamesh.

Probably best to investigate quickly.

#drabble #drabbles

12 notes · View notes

gofancyninjaworld · 4 years

Text

OPM in 2019, part 2

Yup, this was all too long, so I now have to attend to the manga. This year, Murata kept his promise from 2018 to deliver regular chapters. Even the passing of his father only made him take a few weeks off.

By the numbers. This year, Murata delivered 24 updates consisting of 624 pages. It may not be the banner year of 2017 2018, but it still averages out at more than 50 pages a month. He also drew 113 pages for volume releases in extra chapters, volume-only content and chapter redraws. We thank you for your hard work, Mr. Murata!

As to the words and pictures, much more below the cut!

beautiful and poignant -- probably the best cover this year.

Be warned: this contains major plot spoilers

Broad Strokes

Last year focussed on the Hero Association response to the Monster Association, gathering up heroes, sorting out battle plans and sending them into the field. In the course of the war effort, the characters whom we’ve been following most consistently all got parked in one place or another. We turned decisively away from Saitama, Genos, Garou, Fubuki, Bang, and King to focus on what the other heroes were doing, getting to know many more of them.

This year, we’ve seen the first triumphant contact the heroes made gradually be eroded away as the monsters launch their counter-attack and one by one the parked characters have been brought back into the story to varying effect.

2020 is promising to be the showdown year that will give us the final denouement, but I can’t promise that. What I can promise is a closer look at the major themes of 2019.

Orochi

From half-assed plot to bad-ass plan

The first big thing is just how important Monster King Orochi has been to the story. More specifically, it's crazy how vital a linchpin he has been to Psykos’s humanity extermination plan. The webcomic that doesn’t have Orochi makes her plan a sick joke. Like, seriously, how was Psykos planning to take over the world? In the webcomic, if things had gone to plan and she'd gotten rid of the heroes sent to the Monster Association, what then? Not enough monsters to kill billions of people and no way to get the monsters that she does have there. Monsters are also terribly uncooperative and undisciplined. The long-term cooperation to kill billions of people just isn’t going to happen -- without the clear, limited goal that killing Class S heroes was, they’ll just split up. Society wasn't about to fall into a weeping puddle: we’ve seen both in the manga and the webcomic that there are loads of strong people, and that people are resilient and adaptable. It's like, that was a total idiot plot from the outset. It’d end in failure as society adapted faster than the bickering monsters (those that didn’t leave) appreciated.

yeah, you and what army?

On the other hand, Monster King Orochi makes Pyskos's dream a credible reality. First, thanks to him, she got the cooperation of monsters like Elder Centipede, who was particularly important in the lead up to the Monster Association’s declaration of war. It dug enough tunnels that monsters could appear simultaneously in multiple cities throughout the world. Second, thanks to Orochi, she got millions of monster cells which meant that huge chunks of the population could be simultaneously monsterised in multiple locations, each able to help kill off the rest of humanity. Their dry run two days previous to the current manga events confirmed that humanity simply couldn't cope with monsters showing up in so many places at once and yes, now they had a shot. They could kill off the powerful organised heroes and then quickly make civilised life impossible before any credible fight back could be organised.

This plan works.

when you realise that it’d only take a couple of hours to replenish the Monster Association’s forces

If that's all Orochi could do, it'd be plenty. It made a bad, half-assed idiot plot into a real threat. But that's not all. He's a crazy powerful monster, one Psykos was counting on to deal the death blow to the most powerful heroes, especially Tatsumaki.

Unfortunately for Psykos, Saitama seems to have given Orochi a bad case of the deads. And Amai Mask seems to have destroyed her precious store of monster cells. Unless she have a back up depot of monster cells, her humanity extermination plan has hit a real snag. Many fans do hold out hope that Orochi isn't dead-dead and may Awaken to be real trouble. But we'll see.

Acceptance

Speaking of Saitama and Orochi, something very important happened to Saitama’s character development that simply hasn’t happened yet in the webcomic. Saitama accepted that yes, he’s just the strongest being alive.

We’ve seen Saitama struggle with not finding a worthy challenge. He has bargained with it, dreaming of being weak enough to find the Subterraneans a threat. He has been angry about it, shouting his outrage when Vaccineman died after one hit. He has been depressed about it; we saw his whole collapse in the wake of the Superfight which led him to opening up to King. And now, when he heard Orochi trying to introduce himself, he realised that this was just another useless blowhard like the jerk who’d kicked him to the moon and cut it short. ‘What makes you so special?’ ‘Come at me then, but I’m expecting nothing.’

all according to expectation

It’s so rare to see Saitama show any character development, so this moment, small as it is, is really a profound step forward for the character. We will see what happens as a result in chapters to come.

Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity

Good luck that is. And that’s been shining on Psykos despite the setback of losing Orochi. All the work we’ve seen her put in since chapter 57, observing heroes, sending out monsters to attack them and then seeing how they respond, has finally paid off.

Between chapters 94 and 112, the manga really showed us precisely why the Class S heroes were so respected as the ultimate answer to the worst of the worst monsters.

And now, by carefully siccing the right super-powerful monster on hero, Psykos has achieved what looked impossible: defeat Class S heroes en masse.

and bad luck is what happens when lack of preparation meets a challenge

It’s perfect, save monsters have a long-documented love of savouring their prey and aren’t killing the heroes as fast as they should. Silly things: they leave the window open to rescue.

Machinations

A cyborg makes wild accusations...

Holy moly, has any hero’s stock risen and sunk as fast as Drive Knight’s has? In the space of a month, two updates, this enigmatic hero went from the new darling of the fandom to at best, a very self-interested ‘hero’ and at worst, the very traitor Metal Knight warned Child Emperor about.

We’ve known nothing about Drive Knight, what he did and just why he had a top ten ranking. Well, we got a great masterclass in why when with a fantastic combination of power and guile, he defeated the cadre Nyan, making him the first hero other than Saitama to do so. In fact Drive Knight is so polished in both the type of technology he has and the fluency with which he wields it that he makes Genos look like a glorified garage project. Oh wait... that’s accurate, isn’t it?

looking like Boros’s long-lost cousin, Drive Knight’s gold splendour

It’s what Drive Knight did next that set audiences against him. First, we learned that he watched the support heroes get cut down while he formulated the perfect plan. Okay, maybe he’s just a cold operator. Second, the terrifying efficiency with which he pumped Sekingar for information on the vulnerability of the Hero Association, then failed to protect him when G-5 showed up to stop Sekingar from reporting back to the Hero Association. Third, while we’ve known that Drive Knight is no fan of Metal Knight, accusing the latter of deliberately supplying the Monster Association is another story. It has left us wondering whether Drive Knight is simply paranoid -- or is looking to deflect suspicion from himself. What is not in question is that there really is a visitor from The Organisation harvesting the very data Drive Knight is worried about for the very purposes he outlines.

Drive Knight did not look best pleased when Genos intervened in affairs and destroyed G-5, but handed over (or cut his losses?) peaceably enough. For some reason, Drive Knight still seems to think that Genos is on his side, still going ‘we’ and making a distinction between them and the rest of humanity when explaining his desire to leave with Nyan. Why?

We have no idea when Drive Knight will reappear or quite what side he’s on, but one thing is for sure: he’s a powerful mover in this world and is bound to pose some dread challenge when he does.

...but a greedy old man looks set to pay dearly

Top shadenfreude for me: if G5 didn't successfully remotely transmit everything it'd learned about the Metal Knight back, then Bofoi will be in the painful position of having to acknowledge that Genos got his wrinkly little nuts out of the fire. Yup, that guy Bofoi refused to help and left to die the first time he met. That guy he started a whispering campaign against at the Hero Association. That one.

By the time Sekingar gets back and gives his story, Dr Bofoi will have most of the story. Once Child Emperor reports in, Bofoi will have put all the bits together. He’ll understand that he dodged a very large bullet as The Organisation had successfully hacked into his robot. And he was lucky their emissary didn't live to report its findings.

How did Bofoi get in this shitty position? By getting greedy. He was so desperate to get a sample of Elder Centipede’s armour that he had his robot cling on and get carried into the Monster Association base. And then let it sit and listen in. He didn’t budget on Orochi being able to disable the robot before he could trigger its self-destruct sequence.

unfortunately for Bofoi, the Monster Association isn’t quite as selfish as he is and had no problem letting The Organisation harvest what it could of the machine they couldn’t themselves use.

It’s super unlikely that the Hero Association will take Drive Knight’s words uncritically, but they’re not stupid people -- they’ll understand that a major security breach has occurred. Suffer a little, Dr. Bofoi.

Old Players, New Roles

This year we have had no new characters introduced. But we have had cause to re-evaluate several that we thought we knew.

Sekingar was totally the breakout star here, surprising himself probably more than anyone else in finding that he truly did have what it took to be a hero. I won’t go into it, full breakdown here. What I will say is that unlike someone like Suiryu, who is just an ordinary person, Sekingar is very highly placed within the Hero Association and looks set to be promoted further. What he has to say and enact about the way heroes operate WILL have a disproportionate effect on the Hero Association, its future and maybe humanity’s safety.

heroism is what you find when there are no good options but you do the right thing anyway

Genos continued to develop this year. Last fight, he’d been devastated at not having been able to save any heroes. This time out, saving people and showing a real resolve to take the fight to the monsters is front and centre of his actions, finally ending the hostage rescue part of the Hero Association plans.

it’s one thing to see a hero standing on top of a dead monster, but seeing this tiny guy on an armoured carrier and knowing that he could kill everybody in the convoy effortlessly did more to sell the insanity of Class S to me than many monster fights could. No wonder ordinary men call them monsters.

Two big changes from the webcomic to the manga have been first, splitting Genos off from the rest so he has to act out of his own heart rather than being carried along/supported by others. And second, giving him information about the monsters so he can descend to Hell with open eyes. If any webcomic readers thought that Genos was being impulsive and naive when he took on the cadres rather than brave, the manga decisively lays that to rest. This boy is truly courageous.

Finally, the hero most known for scheming to lord it over others (in order to feel better about herself), Fubuki, closed out the year by showing an amazing side to her.

She’s long hated dealing with strong monsters and Overgrown Pochi is her worst nightmare -- a true terror of a monster. She feels it all: inadequate, scared, frustrated, vulnerable. Accepts that she’s almost certainly going to die. And then uses her delusion of leading Bang and Bomb as a source of strength to bolster their bodies and protect them from harm for long enough for them to counter attack.

The bloodshot eye, the veins standing proud out of the sheer effort wrung out of her, the blood running down her face as she faces the monster. No fucks given about decorum or looks: she’s going down swinging. Bravo!

Oh yeah, and Garou woke up. He seems a bit mad.

the second-best cover of 2019

#OPM #meta #2019 review #manga #heroes #Orochi #Psykos #Saitama #Drive Knight #Metal Knight #Dr Bofoi #Genos #Sekingar #Fubuki #Bang #Bomb #Garou #we wait to see what 2020 will bring

52 notes · View notes

justine-the-guillotine · 4 years

Text

5 Otome/Romance Game Men I Adore

Thank you so much @pseudofaux for tagging me! Also, thank you for saying that your own list was not in order or an exhaustive list because I often feel pressured to make a perfect list in these types of situations lol but if pseu was chill I can also be chill (EDIT: no there’s actually a lot of screaming below and absolutely no chill, I’m sorry, I lied.)

I always talk too much and break too many rules when I do these things but that's just how I am lmfao so I'm gonna start off by saying IkeSen's Nobunaga Oda is my absolute favorite otome game man of all time... but I'm not going to officially include him on this list because I talk about him too much as it is already and I feel like enough people love him anyway. However, if anyone is interested in hearing me talk about Nobunaga ad nauseam, I will gladly entertain you.

On to my list ~

1. Caramia, OZMAFIA!! - Ozmafia!! is my favorite otome game (MC be damned) and I love this man sooooooo much. His wedding CG has actually been the background on my phone for ages now. You know the "that's where the trouble began, that damned smile" meme? THAT'S FUCKING FOR HIM THAT'S HIM!!!!!!!!! That smile ruined my entire life in the best possible way and I have not known peace since. I guess I have a bit of A Thing for loveable, charismatic leaders. I just love a man who is full of power but big of heart ... and a little bit of a dumbass. Caramia is just like the total package... He protecc, but he also attacc, and he also a snacc. Oh, and he can cook!!!

2. Fenrir Godspeed, Ikemen Revolution - Fenrir is really, really special to me and I put him in his own category entirely. In reality, Fenrir and Ray are actually tied as my IkeRev biases (and honestly I prefer them together; Alice is optional). Fenrir is actually so close to my heart that I refuse to even look at almost all fanfiction with him in it, with few exceptions. The fear that someone could "ruin" him by writing him in a way that even slightly disagrees with the way I picture him in my head (and I have seen it) is really too much for me to handle. Is this unhealthy of me? Probably, but I tend to avoid the situation all together so it doesn't matter. Not only do I self-insert in my games but I'm also not one of those people who separate fiction from real-life really well, so all of my biases are people I'd actually fall for IRL. And Fenrir is really special to me because he is actually the most perfect, ideal boyfriend in my mind but he is someone I absolutely do not deserve IRL and would probably run from for fear of ruining things. :'] So while any otome game man is a fantasy, he's like... top tier fantasy for me. He's just so perfectly easy-going, such a Prince Charming, Knight in Shining Armor, easy to read, so ready to love you, SO MUCH FUN... he's a Good Boi without being naive and innocent... he's like a wild-yet-safe adventure ugh he's like p e r f e c t I cry

3. Raymond, Blood in Roses - I don't necessarily think Blood in Roses is a great game; it definitely has its hits and its misses BUT it did grant me this one amazing man and therefore I will never uninstall it. I mentioned that I like lovable leaders but I also thoroughly enjoy being able to break down a brick wall of a man. Raymond starts off by being pretty cold to MC, caring really only for his duty (I love a loyal man), but takes MC under his wing anyway... and slowly realizes he has feelings for her and then of course becomes someone who is willing to die for her. This is peak romance, don't @ me.

4. Zen, Mystic Messenger - Zen is actually not my favorite to romance (that honor belongs to Jumin) but he is my #2. More importantly than the romance though, he is such a fucking good guy in every single route... ignoring all of Chertiz's little homophobic undertones of course (man do I wish Chertiz would rewrite Mystic Messenger so it's not so conservative, pleaseeee). He is willing to stand up for and protect MC in every route, not just his own. In all routes, he offers himself to MC as a shoulder to lean on, someone to cry to. He is always helpful to everyone!! Even though he and Jumin don't see eye to eye on most things, Zen is still ultimately supportive of him and wants what's best for him. ZEN IS A TRUE BRO. He's also super chill like he's all about his acting and performing... but he just also wants to drink beer, eat street food, and smoke cigarettes all day. I know people get turned off by his narcissism but fucking look at him okay he has every (!!!) right to be narcissistic. Plus, he doesn't let his ego get in the way of love and friendship and that's very important !!! In this essay, I will -

5. Leonardo DaVinci, Ikemen Vampire - I just want to type his name and send like 150000 weary emojis after it and be done with it. Honestly, it is at the point where I think he is on Nobunaga level for me. I have fallen very, very hard for him. I have two IkeVamp accounts and between the two of them I think I have done his full route about six or seven times. Every time I get to the scene where Comte suggests that Leonardo breaks it off with MC, I want to scream at the top of my lungs "BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM" like Ariel does in The Little Mermaid (Leonardo has his own moment where he internally shouts "I LOVE HER!!!!" so we're even tbh). First of all, HE IS SO FUCKING KNOWLEDGEABLE HE KNOWS SO MUCH AND HE KEEPS LEARNING THAT SHIT IS HOT. Also, I have seen people disagree with me on this but I personally don't think he's patronizing to MC. His MC, unfortunately, is written in that way where "ugh he's so mature and I is babey" so, of course, there are moments where he plays off of that but he literally has SO MUCH KNOWLEDGE and he never is like "wow I can't believe you don't know that you idiot" to MC even though the opportunity to do that is plentiful. He will tease her, sure, but that's totally different than being mean about it. The best thing about him being so intelligent is the fact he's also a fucking dumbass (I love me a dumbass, as you all know). He loves MC so, so much even though he doesn't show that in the smartest of ways all the time... but... he fucking walked into a dress shop and designed a whole ass custom dress for her?? He even picked out the fabric??? And then he pretended like it was Comte who chose it??? HELLOOOOOOOOOOO I LOVE HIM I'M ACTUALLY SCREAMING RIGHT NOW THAT'S WHY I HAVE TO TYPE IN CAPS I LOVE HIS MIND I LOVE HIM

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I'm gonna sneak in an extra number because I absolutely must.

6. Trash, Aloners - If you have never played Aloners, you really should because it is seriously an amazing visual novel (thank you @dear-mrs-otome for casually mentioning this game like one time in a discord server otherwise I’m not sure that I would have found out about it). You can get it for free (or pay $5 for the redeux version), so there’s really no excuse unless you don’t have a computer. The love between MC and Trash is not the main plot of the story necessarily, but Trash is such a good man and he deserves the lovin'. Trash is like the perfect combination of sweet and snarky, respectful yet teasing, competent but dumb, has a good heart but doesn't always make the best decisions... in conclusion, what choice did I have but to fall helplessly in love???

This has been fun, I absolutely love screaming about 2D bois... I hope y’all don’t mind tags (also I haven’t really been around a lot so if you’ve been tagged already I’m sorry ;w;) @luciens-one-and-only-sea-otter @lovingikesen @toonamifaithful @emeraldtawny @littlelady-blackwell @alloveroliver

#tag tag #just otome things #uh it's a list of 2d men I love #just 2d men things #favorite tag #Steeni speak 🔊

17 notes · View notes

displaced-tactician · 4 years

Note

📚

Morgan’s Tome Entry for Sumia. Still Accepting.

(Please recognize most of this is written in a code she made back in her original timeline. Part may be written in the past, and some in the present depending on the character. This is the translation not what a character would read.)

Shared History: Sumia’s marriage to Mr. King. Dude Chrom wasn’t a surprise to anyone Father told me. Due to their close friendships I ended up spending much of my time, well spent, much of my time with their children, Lucina and Cynthia. Sumia always seemed interested in me in the same way an... aunt I suppose would. She helped me learn to read, taught me some baking techniques that I simply could not replicate (note page 139 has a great recipe if I find anyone who knows how to bake), and would read all of our fortunes with flowers whenever we asked. Though as the war got worse, she was sent on more and more missions.

Addendum: The Garreg Mach version of her seems to be extremely similar. Though I can safely assume the romantic details may be quite different compared to my home. They seem more familiar with a “female” Father as well.

Pros: Kind, diligent, and over all motherly. In many ways, Sumia is a lot like a family member to me. Similar to Mr Dude King. I heard her combat prowess was near second to none. Her skill on a Pegasus was a sight to behold. Her coordination, her speed, and her ferocity to protect those she loved.

Addendum: She feels quite similar here still.

Cons: Her single minded protectiveness became an issue for her later on. Riskier missions brought her home harmed more and more frequently. This stressed out her children quite a bit. Albeit Father does not seem to doubt her abilities and keeps assigning her to these missions. I believe Father is making some grave mistakes with her assignments.

Addendum: I don’t like this feeling. The persistent, caring, and some what curious nature of Garreg Mach’s Sumia feels vaguely familiar. Much more so than any other parent I’ve met besides Father and Chrom. I’d rather she be different than what I’ve explained here. In many ways, amnesia is a blessing where I do not have to remember what I’ve lost. In some ways, I feel great.... regret? Fear? I’m not sure... And I would rather not have those memories fully explored.

Tactical Benefits: Her clearest benefit is on the field. Fast, strong, charismatic, and brave. She’s a knight in shining armor to many other individuals on the field. I believe Father may be utilizing these benefits too much without properly giving her support, but he assures me it’s fine.

Death: Reports indicate Sumia’s death to be later on in the war against the Risen. Father mentioned an “unfortunate accident” where she was shot out of the sky, fleeing towards enemy grounds. When questioning him further, he refused to give me more information. Then told me to give Lucina and Cynthia their space and to leave them alone.

Addendum: I may be able to understand Gaius and Kellam being aligned somewhat to the enemy, but Sumia doesn’t quite make sense? Father seems to have glossed over this significantly more from what my previous writing implies.

Legacy: Her children, Lucina and Cynthia.

Lingering Questions:

Something still doesn’t seem right about Father’s reactions. It makes more sense than the other reactions to the other parents but it seems detached. Should I have tried being there for Lucina and Cynthia?

Notes on Lucina’s and Cynthia’s page clearly have more recent interactions, though strangely enough there doesn’t seem to be many connections between Sumia’s final moments and Father and I going to visit the two.

Is it wise to get to know this new Sumia?

#Morgan's Notes #I think it's immeasurably hard for Morgan to see Robin as a bad guy #even though I think her notebook may say it almost point blank #fortuitousflowers

3 notes · View notes

missjosie27 · 4 years

Text

Year 2 Part 3: A Bit of Transfiguration

Hey, guys! Sorry for the wait on the update. This is the next part of the story I am currently writing and I hope you all continue to enjoy!

The next day proved difficult to focus on Transfiguration with Ben in the Hospital Wing. Though David, Penny, and Tonks had been sworn to secrecy, somehow rumor still spread around the school of his absence. Not to mention he wasn’t sure if he was going to avoid punishment for being caught after hours, however, he was pretty sure Merula hadn’t let the general populace that he had beat her again in a duel.

Despite these distractions, he still managed to be only one of two students (the other was a red haired Ravenclaw girl he didn’t know) to properly transfigure his porcupine into a pincushion, much to the delight of Professor McGonagall.

“Very good, Mr. Grant,” she praised after asking him to perform the spell for her. “You are quite the natural in this subject. Five points to Gryffindor.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“Indeed, you are one of the more gifted students at Transfiguration I’ve seen in some time,” she added. “If you are interested, we may explore more advanced lessons.”

“I’ll consider it for sure.”

McGonagall gave a curt nod. “Alright, that’s enough for today. Class dismissed.”

The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws began shuffling out and for a moment David thought he had successfully avoided the subject of last night. Alas, he was wrong.

“Mr. Grant, do stay. There is a matter we need to discuss.”

Rowan gave him an encouraging look to try and make him feel better, but though his head of house was fairer than Snape he knew she would not let him off easy. Running a hand through his dark brown hair, he decided it was best to face the music.

He walked over to her desk while the others vacated the room and soon he was staring face to face into her stern, gray eyes.

“You wanted to see me Professor?”

“Yes, Grant. It is in regard to last night, your friend Mr. Ben Copper.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is he okay?”

“At the moment, he is being well cared for by Madam Pomfrey and is no immediate danger. However, his memory is quite spotty, and he does not remember how or when he became trapped in this cursed ice. Rest assured, he is fine and will make a full recovery.”

That at least, was a huge relief off of his mind.

“Thank you, Professor.”

“Indeed, I thought it best you ought to know personally given how close you two are.”

“Soooo….I’m not being punished?”

David hadn’t wanted to push his luck but a part of him couldn’t help popping the question. Better safe than sorry.

“Your heroism in discovering Mr. Copper in the nick of time has warranted a pass for now. But I warn you, I will not overlook future violations of curfew. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied eagerly, hardly daring to believe his good fortune.

“Very good,” and suddenly her eyes were full of concern and sympathy. “Though he is fairing well, I daresay he’ll need his friends after such an ordeal. Do see to it to pay him a visit.”

“I will, professor.”

“Good. Let us speak no more of this.”

Rowan was waiting for him outside when he finally exited the classroom.

“What did she say?” he asked with anticipation.

“She let me off the hook for now. Definitely her way of saying ‘thank you’ for finding Ben when we did.”

“I’m sure glad you found him,” Rowan agreed. “I think it explains why he was acting so oddly. You know what this means, right?”

“What?”

“He must have been searching for the vaults himself,” he theorized as they traveled up the stairs towards the Great Hall. “You know that ice only affects you if you touch it. Somehow, he broke through that door again.”

“You don’t know that,” David tried to ease his best friend. “He’s not exactly in a good state right now. Let’s just see how he’s doing before jumping to any conclusions.”

“Alright. It’s just…after that note from ‘R’ or whoever…it’s freaky that someone or something could be watching us…”

“I know. But for now, let’s just pay him a visit before History of Magic. Give him some company.”

Rowan nodded and they climbed another flight of stairs before entering the main ward of the Hospital Wing. It was quite spacious and very tidy, with windows to allow those unfortunate enough to find themselves sick or injured. The ceilings were high and each bed was surrounded by a curtain to allow for privacy if desired. Madam Pomfrey ran a tight ship and was usually not keen on people distracting or distressing her patients, however, she was also quite kind and was usually accommodating within limits.

Today, only two other students were in her care so being able to see their friend was not an otherworldly request.

“Hello, Madam Pomfrey,” David greeted as she approached them. “How’s Ben? Is alright?”

“I believe so,” she said, causing both boys to inwardly sigh in relief. “I’ve certainly seen worse in my time here at Hogwarts, but his memory is rather erratic.”

“May we see him?”

“You may although I must insist you not stay long. He’s still in a minor state of delirium and I don’t want him to get too excited.”

“We’re just here to check in on him. Don’t worry, Madam Pomfrey.”

“Very well, he’ll be waiting for you. Third bed on the right.”

Privately, David could only wonder ‘delirium’ meant in Ben’s current condition. Did he go crazy? Perhaps confounded? That was always a possibility. Of course, at this point, almost anything was.

“Hey, mate,” he said as casually as he could upon reaching his bed, making minor observations along the way. Judging by his physical appearance, there was nothing out of the ordinary. The blue in his face was completely gone and he was certainly no longer shivering. However, Madam Pomfrey had not been lying when she stated he was in a nervous state of mind.

“Hey, Dave, Rowan.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better but not great. Madam Pomfrey says that a few more pepperup potions should be enough to get rid of the cold, but I’m still sore.”

Though he claimed to be okay, his face told a different story. In truth the second year Gryffindor looked quite shaken.

“Anything we can do to cheer you up?” Rowan asked.

“Just seeing a friendly face is enough. Madam Pomfrey has been really helpful but she’s also kind of strict.”

“I would know,” David nodded. “She almost made me miss the feast last year after the werewolf debacle.”

“Not going to lie, kind of glad I missed that.”

David laughed but he and Rowan both knew that getting to the bottom of the ordeal was equally important.

“Ben, we have to ask, what happened?”

Placing his hand on his head in frustration, he let out a confused groan.

“I feel like I’m losing it.”

“You mean you have no idea what you’ve been doing the past couple days, or how you became stuck in the cursed ice?”

“None, at all. I can’t remember a thing,” came the sad reply. “Madam Pomfrey says she thinks it has something to with the ice but there’s no way to know for sure.”

David and Rowan looked at each other, the latter nodding at the former, who pulled out the letter they found on his person at the time of his discovery.

“This was a note we picked up off the floor after we found you. Do you recognize it?”

He proceeded to read aloud the message from ‘R’ but again it drew a blank.

“I’m sorry, guys, but I don’t know how that got into my pocket or who ‘R’ is.”

“You must remember something,” Rowan pressed him. “Try and think. We need to know who this person is.”

Again, Ben shook his head.

“It’s too difficult right now. All I can really recall is preparing to get on the train and then it’s completely blank after that…almost like I was floating aimlessly or something…cursed vaults…ice everywhere….”

It was then that David knew they weren’t going to get much else out of him as Ben lay back down on the bed, still muttering to himself quietly. Evidently, Madam Pomfrey thought so as well because not a second later they were being escorted out of the Hospital Wing.

“He needs his rest, dears. When he’s ready I’ll be sure to let Professor McGonagall know so she may inform you all. Good day.”

As the doors slammed shut, David began to muse to himself as they headed down for lunch.

“He seems fine enough,” he said to Rowan, who began pulling out several books from his satchel. “But if he can’t remember anything, how are we supposed to know who’s behind this or what’s going on with the vaults?”

“We don’t know enough about ‘R’ to get any closer to finding who they are,” Rowan said, flipping through pages. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t still investigate ourselves. Remember the message we found last year about the hidden staircase? I have a feeling that might be our next lead.”

“The ice knight stands guard past the vanished stairs,” David echoed the deciphered message from the previous year.

“Exactly. Probably guarded by more than a few vanishing and concealment spells.”

“So how do we get in?”

“Easy,” Rowan said, plopping down on the table and serving himself a sandwich with chips. “I’m willing to bet that hidden staircase is in the same corridor as where the ice originates. We find the vault, break the curse, and gather more information. But first, I suggest not going there for the time being.”

“Agreed.”

“At least, not until we learn more complicated magic. The Revealing spell for one thing.”

David began munching relentlessly (he always had an appetite for food despite his wiry build).

“We don’t learn that in Transfiguration until fifth year.”

“I know, that’s why we need to learn it.”

He chuckled.

“I suppose you’ve read the entire curriculum already, Rowan?”

“Close, I’ve already looked into our N.E.W.T. level coursework actually. This doesn’t quite fall under that category but as you said, it’s advanced magic for someone our age.”

“Well, lucky for both of us, I’m quite good at Transfiguration,” David said through a mouth full of chips. “And a certain someone just offered me advanced lessons.”

He swallowed and gave a large belch, which caused a passerby Jae to laugh, and a few of the girls to give disgusted looks their way.

Rowan laughed, as he showed the deciphered message to him once more in his book.

“I think you’re onto something there, Dave. Get a basic understanding of vanishing and revealing spells, and we can check out that corridor once more.”

“Agreed. I think it’s time I pay our head of house another visit.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day, following Herbology, David stopped by the Transfiguration room, where Professor McGonagall had just finished teaching one of her classes.

“Professor? I hope this isn’t a bad time,” he said peeking through the doorway.

“Mr. Grant. No, not at all. I was just finishing up teaching the fifth year Gryffindors. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Stepping inside the classroom, David got straight to the point, not wanting to waste anyone’s time.

“I thought about your offer for advanced lessons and I’ve decided to accept.”

Waving her wand, McGonagall sent a handful of her papers back into her desk before addressing him.

“I am certainly glad to hear it. It may take some time to find a consistent schedule, but I have some free time this Thursday after dinner if you are interested.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“We can start off with some spells and motions normally reserved for third years and go from there. Does that sound agreeable?”

David was afraid she might say that. While under normal circumstances, he would have been more than happy to leave the planning of the lessons up to her, he had to insist upon learning something far more specific and at the same time not tipping his sharp head of house to his real intentions.

“Actually, professor, I was wondering if we might start off with something more advanced. Specifically, revealing and vanishing spells?”

As predicted, McGonagall’s eyebrows furrowed at the request.

“Those two particular techniques are not taught until O.W.L. year, Mr. Grant. They are also quite difficult to master for those much older than you. I am not certain that is the best place to start.”

“I understand. But for me, those are the ones I’m really focused on.”

“And why should a second year be so heavily interested in those specific areas of Transfiguration?”

He knew it was coming. David was well aware Minerva McGonagall was no fool and would not hesitate to glean the truth from him if necessary. His next answer had to be extra careful.

“I want to challenge myself, Professor,” he said with a straight face. “You said yourself I’m gifted at this. Let me test my abilities under your supervision.”

After a few seconds deliberation in which David could feel a trickle of sweat go down his back, McGonagall relented.

“Very well. We will not immediately jump into the spells you have mentioned but I do promise that eventually we will reach that point and devote significant time to their mastery.”

That was all he wanted to hear.

“Thank you, Professor.”

“You are welcome. I shall see you this Thursday at seven pm.”

Walking out of the classroom, a renewed sense of purpose filled David Grant. The vault would have to wait awhile yet, but this was a start. With any luck, he could break this curse and discover more clues about his brother and ‘R’ in little time.

#david grant #rowan khanna #ben copper #minerva mcgonagall #hogwarts mystery #hphm fanfiction #fanfiction

7 notes · View notes

jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear · 5 years

Text

Batman Adventures Annual: Study Hall || An Analysis

Released in 1994, the Batman Adventures Annual delved even deeper into the lives of the various rogues of Gotham. One of those stories focuses on the Scarecrow, and it is arguably his most popular tale.

The initial setting is a university classroom. Jonathan–or should I say, Scarecrow is teaching a “special” make-up session. A student–Mr Bromley–is tied up and gagged in the corner. We’ll soon learn why. In typical monologue fashion, Scarecrow begins to talk about fear and what it means for the human brain. As he’s explaining his methods, he’s also dabbling with some dangerous chemicals. (and thanks to context clues, we know that because of the little skulls inscribed on the bottles. A nice touch if you ask me, if a bit silly) His first experiment proves to be a failure, the vision of rats brought on my the toxin does little the phase Mr. Bromley.

(Interesting to note: this is one of the few comics which showcase fear toxin this way. Normally, Jonathan does not know what his victims are seeing, but here has a chemical compounds that bring forth specific fears)

As Scarecrow gleams over his chemicals as the story shifts into a flashback. Here we see Jonathan Crane locked up in Arkham Asylum. Jonathan is narrating now, and he seems quite forlorn. Someday he’ll be too old to dance with the Dark Knight, what will happen to him them? What has his life lead up to? Was being a villain worth it? These are the questions he asks himself. That’s when he contemplates being a teacher again.

“I had been a teacher once, and often toyed with the idea of returning to the peaceful life of a quiet academician”

Crane sets out to make that dream a reality. He escapes the asylum and with a little clever ingenuity, he forges some documents and changes his name to Irving Diedrich. With these credentials it doesn’t take long for him to get a job as an English professor at a local upstate college.

And as easy as pie, Jonathan was back to teaching. He was enjoying his reprieve from villainy when a special student changed his life. Her name was Molly Randall, Now most of his students were the typical brain dead quarterbacks and preening co-eds, but not Molly. She was different. Molly was the kind of student a teacher comes across once in a lifetime. She was kind and thoughtful, charming and inquisitive, all traits a teacher would adore.

In addition to being her English professor, Crane was also Molly’s counselor. (this means he must’ve been a guidance counselor in addition to being a teacher, I like that the writers included this.) The two of them bonded over their passion for knowledge and they spent many a hours talking and discussing all things creative. These were the same thoughts Crane had long sense banished from his mind, but now he feels invigorated and refreshed, all thanks to one inspiring student.

The comic shifts back to the present as Scarecrow continues to brag about Molly’s accomplishments knowing full well that Bromley didn’t even begin to understand the real Molly. This is where the story starts to get dark.

“To you she was just another pretty face, another evenings amusement”

Thanks to this quote, we know that Bromley has done something deserving of all this punishment. Unfortunately, not even spiders scare the stone cold sportsmen. We’re transitioned into another flashback and Crane is narrating once again. This time we see Molly in Crane’s office, clearly distressed.

Words are exchanged between them, but we as the readers can only infer about what was said. However, we have the narration to clue is in.

“For only an animal would have done what you did to hear”

That one sentence is more then enough. We now know that Molly was in an absolve relationship, something happened and she came to the only man she could trust in that moment. Jonathan Crane. Its important to note that we’re never told exactly what happens. We’re given pretty deliberate hints though. He hit her, she pushed in away. He took advantage of her, Bromley hurt Molly.

Many people would read this is sexual assault, and at the very least it was physical and perhaps even emotional abuse. No matter whits direction you go in, you know Molly is a victim of a monster.

Back in the present, Scarecrow is continuing his experiments on Mr. Bromley Finally, he stumbles upon a positive reaction, this time it’s leeches and Mr. Bromley seems thoroughly terrified of the bloodsucking creatures.

“You’re scared Mr Bromley, just like Molly was when she came crying to me!”

Scarecrow continues to brutalize the young man, and we see a brief glimpse at Bromley’s capture through a two panel flashback. The boy is on the floor, presumable passed out from the horrifying experience when Scarecrow pulls out a huge scythe. His student has passed his “exams” and now it’s time for graduation.

Just as he’s about to swing the scythe and end the boy’s life, a voice rings out from the shadows. It’s Batman of course, unfortunately he has to show up. (why must he ruin this? I’m on Scarecrow’s side her, he deserves to be offed!) The Dark Knight had been watching Crane for weeks, only to be surprised that he just simply wanted to teach again. Ah, but things are more complicated than that, aren’t they? The fight is short and Jonathan, suffice to say, was not the victor. The comic ends with Batman narrating.

“I suppose Crane was trying to help Molly the only ways he knew how,, with fear, intimidation and force, All and all, not that much different from Bromley’s methods. Except Crane always had to decency to wear his mask on the outside”

This story not only gave us a sympathetic Scarecrow, it gave us a villain acting like a hero. Even though he went about it the wrong way, in most eyes people would say his actions were justified. He saved Molly from a monster, even if he acted like the same monster in the process.

This is why Scarecrow is a great villain, often underrated and under appreciated by the fans, he has shown is here that there are lines even the Scarecrow won’t cross. Abuse is abuse, and coming from a man who grew up in an abusive household in some canons, his actions make a lot of sense.

Scarecrow is a monster, there’s no denying that, but at least he stands his ground when comforted with a beast like Bromley. This story shows us that Jonathan Crane, under all that thick burlap skin, still has a heart. He was willing to give up his only chance at teaching to save a student who needed his help.

That is something extraordinary. Not every villain would do what he did.

#Jonathan Crane #Scarecrow #The Scarecrow #Study Hall #Batman Adventures #Batman Adventures Annual #My Scans #Scarecrow Analysis

309 notes · View notes

johnnymundano · 5 years

Text

Class of 1984 (1982)

Directed by Mark L. Lester

Screenplay by Tom Holland, Mark Lester and John Saxton

Story by Tom Holland

Music by Lalo Schifrin

Country: United States

Running Time: 94 minutes

CAST

Perry King as Andrew Norris

Merrie Lynn Ross as Diane Norris

Timothy Van Patten as Peter Stegman

Stefan Arngrim as Drugstore

Michael J. Fox as Arthur

Roddy McDowall as Terry Corrigan

Keith Knight as Barnyard

Lisa Langlois as Patsy

Neil Clifford as Fallon

Al Waxman as Detective Stewiski

Erin Flannery as Deneen

David Gardner as Principal Morganthau

Linda Sorensen as Mrs. Stegman

Teenage Head as themselves

Note: If you enjoyed Class of 1984 you may also be interested in the thematic sequel Class of 1999 by the same prime movers, which is much more overtly comedic, and Unman, Wittering and Zigo (1971) a very British spin on the same themes starring David Hemmings.

Also: I took the images from the Internet like the anarchist hell child that I am. No rules! no future! Rip the system!

I remember reading about Class of 1984 when it came out and thinking the review in Starburst made it sound like an incredibly exploitative and deeply unpleasant movie. Being 12 I immediately made a mental note to see it as soon as possible. Unfortunately the movie wasn’t passed uncut in the UK until 2005, by which time I was no longer 12 and thus somewhat preoccupied by the labyrinth of idiocy which is adult life. But that mental note still niggled, and so in 2019 that 12 year old’s simple ambition was belatedly fulfilled thanks to the UK blu-ray release of the movie. Turns out that not only is Class of 1984 incredibly exploitative and deeply unpleasant, but also (spoiler) my taste hasn’t evolved much since I was 12, because, me? I thought it was a hoot. A hoot and a half in fact.

Class of 1984 asks the old, old question Hollywood loves to ask - how far do you have to push a liberal milquetoast until he starts biting folk’s throats out? Because, as any decent hard working common sense fella with dirt under his fingernails will tell ya, it’s okay to have high-falutin’ ideas about equality and decency and edjumacation but, let’s face facts, when their wife’s blood soaks their corduroy jacket these liberal schmucks won’t hesitate to dip their fists in the basin of other people’s faces. It’s a small-minded, nasty genre that takes unseemly delight in demonstrating that the self-appointed avatars of civilisation have feet of clay. But it isn’t a stupid genre; it also recognises the fact that being a pigeon chested liberal weakling takes some doing against very stiff resistance. Basically, the genre exploits the fact that small-mindedness and mean-spiritedness are universal levellers. To err may very well be human, but to wish for violent revenge is, well, very human. Class of 1984 is one of the smartest of this, uh, cathartic genre; it is simultaneously a Push The Liberal Until He Snaps Movie and an Impotent White Male Liberal Revenge Fantasy movie. Everyone wins. Except women; it was made in 1982 so women get short shrift; being (mainly) either whores or wives to be sacrificed on the altar of manliness. If you are a regular reader of comics I should probably point out that this is not representative of women’s roles in the real world.

But then Class of 1984 is not set in the real world. For a start it was made in 1982 so it is set in the (then) near-future. “We are the future!” is the regular mocking refrain of the violent urchins, and also of the typically ridiculous Alice Cooper title song, which exists only to remind you just how seriously you should take any of this. (Not very.) This is the near future of every frothing right wingers most secretive wet dreams. The inner city schools are crumbling concrete nests of perversion and lawlessness. Kids carry knives and deal drugs while the feeble faculty fall apart, turn to drink, or turn a blind eye. Feral monsters in torn clothes roam the halls; rulers of the fallen kingdom of academia. This is where weak-kneed liberalism, left-wing learning and the kind word in place of the hard fist get you: a violent hellish maelstrom only the force of a quiet white man pushed too damn far can tame. Yes, Class of 1984 is the kind of movie that makes rightwingers spaff so hard and so often that by the time the credits roll only dust is puffing out. But by the time the put upon teacher is putting the buzzsaw to bloody good use in the woodwork room, effete liberal cheesecakes will also be readjusting their tortoiseshell glasses and getting sweaty under their white collars. Something for everyone, like I said.

There’s little point unfolding the plot of Class of 1984 since it’s familiar stuff, but it is very well done stuff. It certainly delivers the expected multiple frissons as Andrew Norris (Perry King) finds every humane alternative barred to him as he is remorselessly forced down the rat run built from liberal society’s failure to face his inner beast. And there is a lovely build to the finale; in which the hopes and dreams of the normal students, in the form of a concert, is contrasted with the ultra-violent theatre of vengeance unfolding in the corridors beyond. For a movie aimed squarely at the amygdala Class of 1984 is surprisingly wittily and smartly written. it is also surprisingly wittily and smartly acted. Perry King is ridiculously chiselled of chin, but elicits much sympathy as his flailing increases, and you feel a sense of both triumph and loss as he finally grasps the nettle of his inner ferocity. Merrie Lynn Ross has little do as the sacrificial wife, Diane, but she effectively provides the foil of the sheltered person who doesn’t understand how bad things are in the real world. Unfortunately, in a very, very, (very) tough to watch scene, the bad things finally become impossible for her to ignore. The actual class are pretty great too. Really horrible, each and every one of the scrofulous, disrespectful little shits. Special mention, though, for Timothy Van Patten as the sociopathic ringleader, Peter Stegman. A truly nasty piece of work who plays the system and his single mother with even more finesse than the piano he unexpectedly excels at.

(The kids’ convincingly unhinged viciousness is vital since you are supposed to cheer as they fall before the force they have unleashed, a force more dangerous than nuclear fire; the angry white man pushed too far. And you will holler as they drop, because the young cast have done their awful work well. Mind you, you are only able to applaud their painful demises since they all look to be in their mid-20s. Had they actually looked like the teenagers they represent the whole thing would have been too unpleasant for anybody, well, anybody not in the NRA. Movies like this can’t get too near the knuckle; it’s part of the unspoken arrangement with the audience.)

But, unpopular news as it may be, not all the kids are shits. Future star Michael J. Fox plays the thankless role of Arthur, The Good Student, complete with puppy fat. Together with Erin Flannery’s Deneen he represents the kids who get left behind but just might make it. Bit of optimism there, snuck in amongst the eruptions of violence. But… Roddy McDowall! Dear, sweet, Roddy McDowall is a revelation. His slightly theatrical aspect is just spot on for Terry Corrigan, the teacher ground down to a desperate, alcoholic wreck, who cracks in a different way to Norris. His heart-breaking descent, together with Fox and Flannery’s kids are the secret heart of the movie. Class of 1984 flirts hot and heavy with nihilism, but is brave enough to finally put out for humanity. All the sturm und drang pandering to the basest emotions is camouflage for a small sliver of optimism. Which isn’t half bad for what’s basically Straw Dogs (1971) set in a 1980s American inner city high school. But, Christ, that Roddy McDowall. Respect is due, sir. As if kids today even know what respect is. The little shits.

#Class of 1984 #Movies #Exploitation #Science Fiction #Revenge #Mark L Lester #Tom Holland #Perry King #Merrie Lynn Ross #Timothy Van Patten #Michael J Fox #Erin Flannery #Roddy McDowall #1982 #The 1980s

10 notes · View notes

elliemarchetti · 4 years

Text

Red Queen Pride and Prejudice AU (Part 6)

@lilyharvord as you've obviously noticed by now, I moved the famous hand flex scene after the dance while in the movie it was when Jane and Lizzy come back home. I hope you don’t mind.

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Words: 3267

The next day Mare told Wren what she and Mr. Maven had said to each other, leaving her friend incredulous, astonished and upset, but at the same time unable to question the sincerity of such an amiable-looking young man: the possibility that he had really been the victim of such cruelty was enough to affect all her more tender feelings and therefore there was nothing to do but think well of both, defend the conduct of both, and attribute to a misunderstanding all that couldn’t be explained otherwise.

"I really believe that both of them have been deceived in a way we can’t imagine,” she said. “Maybe someone interested have made them look bad in each other’s eyes, so, in short, it’s impossible for us to speculate on the causes or circumstances that may have driven them away.”

"Very true, sure; and now, my dear Wren, what do you have to say in regard to the people concerned who were probably involved in the matter? You must absolve them too, otherwise we would be forced to think ill of someone,” Mare teased her, but the other didn’t take the bait and seemed truly immovable in her theory. Mare, however, wasn’t convinced, and it was easier for her to believe that Mr. Maven had been deceived, rather than that he had managed to invent a story of that kind and tell it with such fluency. And if it had been a lie, sooner or later the General would’ve contradicted him, probably at the ball, for which they both had received an invitation that very morning, event that would take place the following Tuesday, a prospect extremely welcome for all the women in the Stilts: Mrs. Skonos decided to consider it a tribute to her daughter, who was particularly flattered to have received the invitation from Mr. Samos himself rather than with a ceremonial ticket as it had happened for the Barrows, and Mare already had a foretaste for the pleasure to dance for a long time with Mr. Maven, moment that would’ve served as a testing ground to ascertain whether or not what was said about the General was a lie. Gisa and Diana, who this time had been invited too, were also happy, but not so much for a particular event, since, although both, like Mare, intended to dance for half of the evening with the newcomer, who was rumoured to be an excellent dancer, Mr. Maven wasn’t the only knight who could satisfy them, and a dance was always a dance. On this occasion, Mare's mood was so excited that, although she didn’t often speak to Mr. Jesper unnecessarily, she couldn’t help but ask him if he intended to accept Mr. Samos' invitation, and if so, if he didn’t consider inappropriate to join an evening dedicated to fun, but she was rather surprised to find out how not the slightest scruple had come to his mind, and how far was him from fearing a reproach; on the contrary, he reassured her that his benefactor often gave parties dedicated to respectable and reputable people too. Fortunately, the dance also kept the minds of Ruth and Daniel Barrow’s sons busy, otherwise the poor boys would’ve been really plagued by the weather, so rainy that for four days straight it had been impossible to get to the Farley’s house. If only they had succeeded, they could certainly have dampened Mare’s enthusiasm, as the Colonel knew very well that Mr. Maven would never be invited to the ball, but since this didn’t happen, Mare had to see it herself as soon as she arrived at the Hall of the Sun, when she met Mr. Thomas, who informed her that the day before his friend had been forced to leave urgently for Archeon.

“A business trip,” he said, but it was evident from that there was more he couldn’t say here, which made her even more determined to avoid any conversation with the source of so much disappointment, to the point that she decided to seclude herself with Diana, whom she hadn't seen for a week, to tell her about her pains. Evidently, her friend too had thoughts that weighed down her heart, and so they ended up talking about the oddities of Mr. Jesper, with whom she was forced to share the first two rounds of dance by her mother. Mr. Jesper hadn't thought, when he accepted the invitation, that the ball might require him to dance too, and so, clumsy and solemn as he was, he continued to apologize to his cousin before he could reach the person he actually wanted to spend his time with, Miss Farley, who was dancing with extreme enthusiasm with his younger male cousin. It was evident that the two were in confidence, and he had managed to understand, from the time spent at both the Farley and Barrow homes, that the two families often visited, making his interest in her even more difficult to express. He was so taken by these thoughts that he hardly noticed that General Calore had approached and asked Mare to dance with him and that she, taken aback, had accepted. He was certain that she wouldn’t act silly and wouldn’t let her whim for Mr. Maven, which certainly hadn’t escaped him, made her seem unpleasant to a man all the more important, and if he had doubted, he would’ve suggested to stay silent if she hadn’t been asked any question, or at most to make some empty consideration on the event. If he hadn't been so busy worrying about the beautiful smile Miss Farley was giving to Shade Barrow, he would’ve told her to please the wishes of her interlocutor, and to highlight their similarities and put aside their differences, but he did none of this, and Mare found herself maliciously teasing the one she wanted so much to detest, as in her habit.

"Do you frequent the village very often?" he asked, at the end of the first dance.

She replied affirmatively, and unable to resist the temptation, she added that when they met, they were just doing a new acquaintance, something that cast a shadow of lethargy on the beautiful features of the General, who replied that surely Mr. Maven was good at making new friends, as for keeping them, however, it was different topic.

"He was unfortunate enough to lose your friendship," she replied with emphasis, "and in a way that will probably make him suffer for a lifetime."

The General didn’t answer and seemed eager to change subject, a chance given to him by Colonel Farley’s arrival; the brief interruption, in fact, gave him the opportunity to pretend that he had forgotten what the topic they were previously dealing with was, but Mare had no desire to converse in other respects, and didn’t care about his attempts, reminding him instead of when he said to be a man with little inclination for forgiveness, whose resentment once born is relentless.

"You are very careful, I suppose, even in giving it birth."

"I am," he said in a firm voice.

"And you never let yourselves be blinded by prejudice?" she asked, peremptorily.

"I hope not," he replied, evidently annoyed by the aims those questions might have. She said nothing more, and once finished the second round they separated in silence, both dissatisfied, though not alike, as there was a rather strong feeling in Cal's heart towards her, which soon led him to forgiveness and directed all his anger towards someone else. They hadn’t long been separated when Miss Samos walked towards her with an expression of polite contempt on her face: “And so, Miss Mare, I heard that you are enthusiastic about Mr. Maven! Your sister told me about it, asking me countless questions. However I recommend you not to believe all his claims, as the fact that Tiberias has treated him badly is completely false and, on the contrary, he always had been extraordinarily nice to him, although Mr. Maven behaved so infamously that my dearest childhood friend decided not to share such detail with me or my brother. Anyway, I don't blame him for not even bearing his mention, but I guess you found it out for yourself as I doubt you had the foresight to avoid such a sensitive subject during your two rounds of dancing. I am sorry that you have discovered the faults of your favourite, but in reality, considering his origins, we couldn't expect much better," she said, and before Mare could ask for further explanation, she turned away, distracted by Lady Haven. How much insolence! Mare thought to herself, full of anger. Did Miss Samos really think she was influencing her with a petty attack like that, full of her stubborn ignorance and the General's malice? With a sigh she composed himself, and began to look for Wren, who had undertaken to gather information from Mr. Samos regarding the same subject. When she reached her, however, her friend greeted her with a smile so sweetly satisfied, illuminated by such a happy expression, that it made clear enough how happy she was with the events of the evening. Mare caught her feelings immediately, and in that moment every concern for Maven, every resentment of her enemies and whatever else was put aside, facing the hope that Wren would achieve happiness in the best of ways.

"I would like to know," she said, her face no less smiling, "what have you learned, busy as you should’ve been with your pleasant company."

"I wasn't as busy as you think, but unfortunately, I have nothing satisfying to tell you: Mr. Samos doesn’t know the whole story and completely ignores the events that have particularly offended the General, but guarantees the irreproachable conduct, the righteousness and sense of honour of his friend, and is absolutely convinced that Mr. Maven deserved far less attention than received. I'm sorry to say that, but from what he and his sister said, your new acquaintance is by no means a respectable young man, in fact, I'm afraid he was very imprudent, and that he deserved to lose the General's respect."

Mare was still perplexed by those statements: certainly it was a skilled defence, but everyone seemed not to know part of the story and what little they knew had been learned by the General himself, all points that allowed her not to change her opinion on the two gentlemen in question, so she decided to change the subject in favour of more pleasant arguments, on which they couldn’t have conflicting opinions, and listened with joy to the happy, albeit modest, hopes that Wren cherished about Mr. Samos, and said all was in her power to bolster her friend's confidence, until he caught up with them, and Mare went back in search of Diana, who tried to convince her that although Mr. Jesper was a bad dancer, he was excellent company, when at ease, until the subject of their argument, as if feeling called into question, reached them. Since she no longer had any personal interest to pursue for the evening, she turned her attention almost entirely to her friends and the series of pleasant reflections aroused from the remarks about Wren, who she saw already settled in that same house with all the happiness that can come from a love match, was only slightly overshadowed by the idea that Diana could finally choose to give in to her cousin's attention not so much because she preferred him to her brother, but because Shade hadn’t given her a way to guess that their relationship wasn’t just one of dated friendship. She saw clearly that her mother's thoughts were pointing in the same direction, and decided to not dare to go near her, for fear of hearing too much. What she couldn’t know, however, was that her desires weren’t so disinterested and dictated by her displeasure with her son’s possible sadness, as by her interest in a union between her and her cousin, something she was able to discover during dinner: when they sat down Mare considered it an evil fate to find herself separated from her only by one person, and was deeply irritated in seeing her speak freely and openly just with that person, Lady Skonos, of nothing but her expectation that Wren would soon marry Mr. Samos, as, although the prospect was exciting, the two seemed unable to tire of enumerating the benefits of that union. The fact that he was a charming young man, and so rich, who lived just three miles from them were their main reasons for satisfaction but it was a consolation too to think of how his sister was fond of Wren.

"It's a promising thing for Gisa too,” said Mrs Barrow, “Wren's excellent marriage will give her the opportunity to make acquaintance with other wealthy men and her dear friend will introduce her properly, not forcing on me any more social life than the one I desire to have.”

"These are occasions that you have to like, but nobody loves staying at home at any time more than me. I just hope that Mare will soon have similar luck," replied the other, but Mrs. Barrow told her to extend her wishes to poor Miss Farley, because her daughter would soon be engaged, and concluded by casting an eloquent glance at Mr. Jesper, who indeed was speaking exactly to Diana. Mare tried in vain to stop her mother's rapid flow of words, as she had no intention of accepting any kind of proposal made by Mr. Jesper, or at least get her to describe her happiness for Wren with a less audible tone of voice, since, with inexpressible irritation, she had noticed that much of the conversation had been heard by General Calore, who sat on the opposite side from them, but Mrs. Barrow just scolded her for saying such nonsense since she really seemed unable to understand who that man was for them and why they should owe him the courtesy of not saying anything that could displease him, and she went on talking about her points of view in the same audible tone, making her blush several times with shame and irritation. Mare couldn’t help but throw frequent glances at the General, even if every one of them confirmed what she feared, since, although he didn’t look constantly at her mother, she was convinced that his attention was invariably focused on her. The expression on his face gradually changed from indignant contempt to composed and steadfast seriousness, until Mrs. Barrow had nothing more to say and Lady Skonos was left to cold ham and chicken. The quiet interval didn’t last long, however, for, once dinner was over, there was talk of singing and Gisa, following very limited prayers, prepared herself to entertain the company. With many meaningful looks and mute prayers, Mare tried to prevent such a courtesy, but in vain: her sister seemed to not want to understand, and such an opportunity to perform was a delight for her, so she began to sing, arousing the most painful sensations. Mare followed her progress with an impatience that was very poorly rewarded by the conclusion, seen Gisa had received, among the thanks from the table, a hint of hope that she might be persuaded to concede her favour again, and after not even half a minute, she started again. Her sister's abilities were absolutely unsuitable for such a performance, given her weak voice and affected manner, and Mare's torture was only lightened by the fact that Wren was chatting amiably with Mr. Samos and neither of them could see any signs of derision that his sister and Lady Haven exchanged. Although Mare would’ve expected the General to take part in the mockery too, he had remained impenetrable serious, even when Mr. Barrow told his daughter she had been very good, but now it was better to leave room for the other ladies. Mare couldn’t understand whether the General's silent contempt or the insolent smiles of his friends were more intolerable, so she turned to Diana, and had a brilliant conversation with her and Mr. Jesper, which seemed to further annoy the man. Mr. Barrow, equally silent, enjoyed the scene: he was old, compared to all those young people, and since he had a finer mind than his wife, it wasn’t at all difficult for him to see what dynamics had been established in the group, and while they waited for the carriage that would take them home, he analyzed them one by one, but without sharing his thoughts with anyone, as he used to do if he wasn’t asked about it. And so he watched Mr. Samos and Miss Skonos, whose carriage, which was supposed to take her and her mother home, was miraculously late just like their own, stand a little apart from the others, just like Miss Samos and Lady Haven, although the former casted worried glances from time to time towards General Calore, who was talking, if it could be considered a dialogue and not a monologue, with Lucas Samos, his gaze fixed on Mare, whose back was turned to him as she chatted with Mr. Jesper. He would almost have liked to laugh, if everything couldn’t end so tragically: it would’ve been enough for all of them to speak honestly, even at that moment, just before taking their leave, and every problem would’ve been solved. But it would never happen, it never did, and so Mr. Barrow kept on observing, and saw his wife being urgently courteous to the Samos, saying she hoped to see them soon at their home, although she knew perfectly well it would never happen, as no one there, with the exception of the General, who would’ve never admitted it so publicly, felt particular affection of their daughters, and he actually didn’t mind: he didn’t like Miss Samos’ feigned gratitude nor the tacit assent that her friend gave to everything she said, and didn’t want his daughters to surround themselves with friends of that kind, much less that one of his sons would bring one of those harpies under his roof. When the carriages finally arrived, Mr. Barrow took his seat and watched Mr. Samos escort Miss Skonos to her vehicle and greet her with one of his rare smiles. His wife and sons also took their places, and finally came the girls' time. Despite the embarrassment, the Barrow were accompanied by the General, who, despite not having paid the same attention to Gisa, instinctively reached out a hand to take Mare's and help her to climb the high step. Immediately Mare turned to throw him an amazed look, and taken aback by his gesture and by those dark eyes full of questions, he let her go and turned without a word, ready to reach his friend and the safety of home. He just couldn’t understand what was wrong with him, and such was the confusion in his heart that he ended up flexing his fingers until he felts the nails against his palm. It was something he often did as a child, when everything became too much, when he had to remember to maintain a certain demeanour, but for years he hadn't felt the need anymore, since nothing moved his soul up to that point. Slowly he straightened them again, and in that moment he decided his attentions for Miss Barrow were definitely bad and had to be nipped in the bud, and perhaps it was time to remind his dear friend that he too had a part in their plan.

#red queen au #pride and prejudice #p&p au #mare barrow #cal calore #maven calore #ptolemus samos #wren skonos #evangeline samos #elane haven #lucas samos #diana farley #shade barrow #bree barrow #tramy barrow #tyton jesper #daniel barrow #ruth barrow #thomas

11 notes · View notes