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leona-is-free · 2 years

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The Path to Freedom, a HOTD fanfic

Summary: Ser Crispín and Rhaenyra run off together, pissing everyone off

Read/Review on AO3

Read Prologue here

Chapter 4

A Song of Ice and Fire

The words spun through Rhaenyra’s mind on an endless loop as she laid on with Criston, his soft snoring echoing throughout their bed chambers. She ran her fingers along his chest mindlessly, soothed by the softness of his skin.

What was the song, she wondered. Was it a battle cry? Was it a love song ? Or was it a mournful ballad decrying the end of days. So many questions left unanswered, Rhaenyra found it impossible that she was the first in a generation if Targaryen heirs to even question the meaning of it all.

What if it was all a ruse? A falsehood implanted by Aegon the Conqueror to ensure that his descendants would keep the iron throne in their name. A rational being would consider that an obvious answer.

Her father was ever the dreamer.

Viserys never questioned his visions, rather he took them as they appeared. He saw an infant son with a crown and believed in it so much he sacrificed his own wife, Rhaenyra’s mother, to achieve it. Rhaenyra knew without a doubt Viserys truly believed that a prince who was promised existed, and that prince would be a Targaryen.

Rhaenyra was not a dreamer, nor was she one who could sit idly by and wait for destiny to happen. A prophecy such as this needed answers. If no heir before her thought to investigate it, she could not ensure that the future heirs would either.

The fire of it was obvious -- it concerned a Targaryen. Fire and blood. But what of ice? What did it have to do with the ominous words of House Stark?

Rhaenyra knew that House Stark was the first place to go for an answer.

A gentle touch on her hands brought her back, her head moved with Criston’s chest as he took in a deep yawn.

“You’re brooding again, Princess.” murmured Criston.

Rhaenyra laced her fingers with his, the warmth of his body giving her the only comfort she had known since her mother was alive. In this moment, with him, she felt safe. No, it was always with him, that she felt safe and secure.

Criston made her feel the opposite of Daemon -- Daemon made her feel powerful, yes, but there was a feeling of intimidation with him. Meddling with Daemon was like an intense game of chess, where she was always spinning her head trying to outmatch him.

With Criston, she could just be herself. Good old young, brash, innocent Rhaenyra. She could be Rhae.

“You don’t have to keep addressing me as Princess, Ser Criston.”

“Apologies. Force of habit...Rhae.”

Rhaenyra looked up at him, smiling at his cheeky grin. He touched his lips to her forehead and countered, “You don’t have to address me as Ser Criston.”

“Alright, my love.” Rhaeneya smirked and they both broke into a small fit of laughter. The kind of laughter you share with one in brand new love - the type of love that was light. That promises more than what Rhaenyra has dreamed of.

A cherishing, yet fleeting, moment.

“What’s the matter?”

Besides everything, thought Rhaenyra. She rested back on his chest and said, “If you and I are to solve this prophecy, we must go to Winterfell.”

“Ah, brilliant,” said Criston, “however there is a small problem. You and I are currently fugitives.”

“Actually, you’re the fugitive.”

Criston chuckled. “Didn’t you kidnap me? It was your idea to leave.”

“It was,” Rhaenyra acquiesced. “And I’m sure this is the first place that Father will come looking, so I believe an exit plan is in order quite soon.”

Criston mused. “It’s cold in the north.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Very cold.”

Rhaenyra grimaced. She hated the cold. She wanted nothing more to spend her days basking in the sunshine, the warmth of a summer day tanning her fair skin.

“Essos is quite warm.” Criston said.

“Hm, is it now?” Rhaeneya teased.

“You tell me, you clearly know more regarding that land than I do.”

Rhaeneya sat up, pulling the blankets to her chest to keep warm. “What do you mean?”

He raised his arms and laid his hands behind his head. “Tell me about Asshai.”

“Ah yes,” Rhaeneya teased, “The home of oranges and cinnamon.”

Criston scoffed. “It sounded better in my head, I’d hate to admit.”

“No! It was good. I just...”

Rhaenyra went back to that day on the ship. Cole eyes, full of hope and promise, as he promised her a life she had always dreamed of. Adventure, traveling, reckless abandon. She turned from him, and felt every fiber in her being begging her to say yes. She closed her eyes, she pursed her lips. She spun the gold ring in her finger, the one with the sigil of House Targaryen. The ring told her the truth - she could not abandon her duty.

Or did the ring tell her she could not abandon her chance of power? Even today, Rhaenyra didn’t know. Regardless, she betrayed herself and lied to Cole. The light in his eyes dimming and crumbling before her was the hardest thing she had ever witnessed.

Even now, she wondered if he recovered.

Cole sat up and embraced her, tracing his finger along her cheek. “Come now, we don’t have to discuss the past any longer.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes met his. “Sunspear is quite far on Dragonback, Criston. Let alone Asshai.”

“Maybe the King of the Narrow Sea can lend us a ship?”

———

Criston and Rhaenyra stood in the grand throne room, Daemon sitting idly on the throne he had stolen. The sun was out this time, slowly sinking with the wanting hours of the day. It was the only difference between this and the scene two days ago, when they had first arrived. Rhaeneya, making grand gestures and pleas, and Daemon looking boreded shitless.

Criston felt himself growing as irate as he was that first night.

“Hm, a grand idea my dear niece,” said Daemon, “but unfortunately the Stepstones are mine no longer.”

Rhaenyra and Criston both looked at him, stunned.

“What?”

“You’ve spent my entire life carrying on over the iron throne,” chastised Rhaenyra, “When you could barely hold on to a couple of islands? Would you have lost the Seven Kingdoms as well?”

Daemon’s expression turned sharp, and Criston suddenly felt their welcome being brought to an end. He jumped from the Dragonstone throne, driving Criston’s hand to the hilt of his sword.

He itched for a reason to kill the prince.

Daemon suddenly stopped, and a wary smirk adorned his face. “Why not Dorne?”

Criston stiffened.

“Pardon?” Rhaenyra asked.

Daemon shrugged. “The homeland of your dearly beloved. Why not? I’m sure the Dornish will just adore you.”

Rhaenyra shook her head as she grabbed Criston by the wrist and stormed out of the castle.

“That was on purpose.” Criston seethed.

“Ignore him,” said Rhaenyra, “He is just being a prick.”

“Happy travels!” Daemon shouted.

The sun had set when they left the castle, and Criston turned one last time to view the dusky gray sky cast over Dragonstone. He shuddered, thinking that this truly was a dreadful place. A perfect fit for a dark soul such as Daemon.

As they walked along the winding stone steps, a great shadow was cast over the two. A shrill roar filled the evening sky, and he looked up to see the flight of Rhaenyra’s dragon.

Criston was brought back to his first day at Dragonstone, when they were last on the cusp of war with Daemon. Just like on that day, Syrax gracefully landed on the bridge, claws gripped against each end. She let out a great roar, and Criston swore he felt the stones of the small bridge shake.

Syrax lowered her head as Rhaenyra approached her and spoke softly in her ancestral tongue. The princess turned to Criston and said, “She could feel our first ride was necessary....but she won’t let you mount her a second time without proper introduction.”

“Dragon etiquette,” Criston asked dryly.

Rhaenyra smirked. “You could say that. Come closer.”

Criston hesitated. “And should she decide I cannot ride a second time?”

Rhaenyra mused for a moment, still stroking Syrax’s snout. “Hm...She’ll most likely burn and eat you. Although I made sure she was fed today...perhaps just bite your head off.”

“Gods.” Criston groaned.

“Fear will make it more likely. Come, now.”

Criston approached slowly, carefully. Syrax reared back at first, bearing her teeth. Rhaenyra soothed her with Valyrian words, and she lowered her head again, neck outstretched as she examined Criston. He could feel her breath against his face, the heat made the summers in the Dornish deserts seem chilly.

Fear paralyzed him, yet he swallowed it and remain still. The terror was at odds with the awe and amazement Criston held for such a beast. He had never encountered something so majestic, fearsome. It was like meeting a god.

She sniffed him for a just a moment, but to him it felt like ages. Finally, she laid her head on the stone ground. Criston looked at Rhaenyra, unsure of what to do.

“Touch her, before she takes it as disrespect.”

Criston again forced his hesitation down before the dragon grew impatient. He placed a hand on her forehead, the smooth scales were unnaturally cool under his touch.

A great roar from behind spooked Criston, and he immediately jumped to the ground. Above them was Daemon’s red dragon flying overhead, screeching. Syrax looked up upon it an unleashed a great roar of her own. She covered Criston with a great wing, shaking her head violently.

Rhaenyra crouched and crawled under Syrax’s wing to check on Criston.

“She likes you!” Rhaeneya exclaimed. “Now we can go.”

“Can we, now?!” Criston asked in shock.

“Don’t mind Caraxys. Like my uncle, he’s mostly bark.”

Criston took several deep breaths to bring his heart out of his throat back to his chest. There were many things in Rhaenyra’s world that he did not understand. Dragon etiquette was a one of them.

———

Of course, by Dorne, the asshole prince meant Castle Blackhaven. A dark, dreary site Cole hasn’t seen since leaving the marches.

Syrax stayed along the Narrow Sea to avoid potential watchers of Kings Landing. The trip to Blackhaven would take twice the time of the flight to Dragonstone. Criston surmised that travel would be a total of two days, forcing them to make camp.

They made it to the Rainwood by sunrise. Rhaenyra released Syrax to rest and hunt, and followed Criston into the forest. It was not long before they found a cave large enough for the both of them. Criston unbuckled the borrowed white cloak and layed it across the ground, smoothing out the wrinkles. It wasn’t a queen’s chamber by any means, but it would have to do.

“Get some rest, Princess.”

Rhaenyra fought her obvious fatigue and looked at Criston with concern. “What about you? You’re still sick from the flight.”

“I’ll be fine.” Criston said in truth. He went days without sleep when fighting in the marches. A day on Dragonback was nothing to him.

Well, not nothing since he was still queasy.

Rhaenyra acquiesced, wrapping herself in the cloak and using Criston’s lap as a pillow. He looked at the entérense to the cave, ears open for any sound of movement. The stillness in the daylight, the birds singing, the rustling of the leaves in the trees, inevitability sent him drifting off to sleep. He awoke with a startle, Rhaenyra staring at him.

“Your turn,” said Rhaenyra, patting the floor. “I’ll just wake you up if I see anything.”

They switched positions and fatigue overtook Criston as he rested his head on her lap. The soft warmth of the fabric over her thighs, and the feeling of her fingers through his hair, soothed him into beautiful dreams.

———

Criston advised against camping in the Marches, and they made the decision to fly straight to Blackhaven in the daylight. By the time sundown hit, they reached the castle.

Will Cole met them at the gate with a look of confusion, concern, and reverence.

“Do my eyes deceive me,” said Will, “or has the Mother gifted me with the sight of my own son with the Princess of Dragonstone?”

Rhaenyra offered her hand. “Rhaenyra Targaryen. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Will accepted, bending the knee and kissed her hand. “Will Cole. It is an honor to meet you.”

Rhaenyra beckoned Will to rise. “You seem to have expected us?”

Will nodded. “Our guards received word of a dragon from the outer guard. We had few time to prepare, regretfully. I hadn’t received news of your plan to visit.”

“Not your fault, completely unplanned,” Rhaenyra said quickly, “You...haven’t received any word from King’s Landing with the past few days?”

“No, not since the news of your wedding,” said William, walking beside her with his hands behind him. “My most sincere congratulations Mi’Lady. Lord Dondarrion is ready to receive you in the Great Hall at your leisure.”

Criston walked close behind the two. He glanced down and noticed his fathers hands nervously wringing.

“Perfect! I shall greet him!” Rhaenyra said as she bustled away towards the great hall. Both Coles struggled to keep up with her. Criston caught up with his father. Will gave him a wary look and said in a hushed whisper, “What brings the two of you to these parts?”

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Rhaeneya stopped and turned to face the two. “My sworn shield missed his family. He requested a brief leave, and I was more than happy to oblige.”

“She has good ears.” Criston tried to joke to his petrified father.

“Yes..quite. Forgive my rudeness-“

Rhaenyra waved her hand. “Not at all. Please, feel free to be comfortable around me.”

“Yes Mi’Lady. So it’s...the two of you?”

Rhaenyra’s mind raced, thinking of a reason. That’s when it hit her. The heir to the Iron Throne doesn’t need a reason to do anything.

“Yes,” said Rhaenyra, “Just us. Ser Cole is my sworn shield. Where I go, he goes. And where he goes, I go. I trust no one else in King’s Landing with my protection.”

William looked at his son in awe. “My boy.”

“We need more Stormlanders in King’s Landing, for certain!” Rhaeneya beamed as she returned her fast walking.

As the entered the great hall, Will took his spot beside Lord Dondarrion. The nobleman was seated with his wife, a young haughty blonde. She eyed Rhaenyra up and down with...contempt? Rhaenyra wasn’t sure, however she was amused at the young lady’s tenacity to insult her future queen.

“Princess Rhaenyra,” said Lord Dondarrion, “I hope you enjoyed the moat outside that could have been yours.”

Rhaeneya curtsied. “Yes it’s a lovely...moat.”

Cole stifled a laugh. Will, standing with the safety of the lords back, shook his head.

“This visit is quite a surprise. I hadn’t heard from the king since news of your wedding.”

“We didn’t even get an invite.” The lord’s wife sneered.

Will’s face turned a ghostly white.

“I...apologies,” Rhaenyra responded, stunned. “I...truly had no clue.”

“Quite alright,” said Lord Dondarrion, “So when is it?”

“It was...three days ago, milord,” quipped William.

“Well, what are you doing here with your guide, and where is Ser Laenor? Your husband.”

“I...you haven’t heard?”

She was thankfully correct in her theory news doesn’t travel as fast to the Stormlands. This was surely a gift. Rhaeneya threw a hand over her forehead and she swooned.

“He left me at the altar!” Rhaenyra cried. “I fled in my devestation!”

Both William and Criston’s mouths dropped.

“Ser Criston has been by my side since finding me. He has protected me for years. I trust him more than those in my own family. The most trustworthy men are from the Marches.”

“Thank you, Princess,” said the lady, “That is quite an honor to hear. If only we heard such glowing compliments from your father, the King.”

Will rubbed his temples.

Lord Dondarrion gave Criston a nod. “You have done your house well, my boy.”

“When I become queen,” said Rhaenyra, “I promise that Blackhaven and King’s Landing will be the closest of allies.”

“Yes. My lady I would gladly offer your my hand in place, were I not already wedded to my beautiful wife.”

“Of course. Congratulations on your wedding my lord.”

“Although my sons are coming of age soon, and a merger of the two houses should do both us well!”

The hall was stone silent.

“I’m sorry my lord,” said Rhaenyra, recovering herself, “It’s...much too soon. The heartbreak has not left me quite yet.”

“Of course, of course. I shall have a bed chamber made for you. And a cot outside the door for your shield.”

Rhaenyra curtsied again. “Thank you. All I ask is...if you hear word from my father, please do not tell him. I am...too full of sorrow to speak of it yet.”

“Of course. My lady.”

Will lead the two out of the great hall, towards the guest chambers. He said nothing but shook his head furiously at whatever he was thinking.

“Your brothers are here, with the children,” said Will to Criston. “Your mother will be pleased to see you as well!”

“Everyone’s here?” Cole said with surprise.

“Yes, what are the chances. And you brought the future queen? An amazing lad, you are. Here are your chambers, Mi’Lady! I hope you have a good as rest as in the Red Keep.”

Rhaenyra smiled. “I’m sure I will. Thank you so much, Mister Cole.”

———

Criston felt the daggers of his fathers stare from the moment they entered Blackhaven. He knew as soon as Rhaenyra closed the door, he would be assaulted with a thousand questions.

And of course, as soon as the wooden door softly shut, his father pulled him away out of the reach of her ears.

“What happened?” Will whispered.

“N-nothing!” Criston lied.

“The princess had six other kingdoms to choose from for respite, and she chose Blackhaven. Why.”

“I.....” Criston didn’t know what to say except the first thing in his mind. He shrugged and said, “I did suggest Essos.”

Will looked stunned. Then burst into a chuckle shaking his head.

“I heard stories of the heir’s...eccentricities. But this....”

“She does what she wants.” Criston shrugged.

“All that Targaryen incest,” said Will, “surely has left them all mad.”

“She’s the one who named me to the Kingsguard,” said Criston sternly, “out of all the noble houses present. She named me. I owe all of this to her.”

The good and the difficult. Criston kept to himself.

“She is quite friendly,” said Will, “The noblemen scoff at the idea of her ruling the Seven Kingdoms. But if she continues journeys such as these...perhaps the princess will get more support than even she realizes.”

Criston placed a hand on his father’s shoulder, and pulled him to an embrace.

———

It was difficult, returning to this.

Criston standing outside. Rhaenyra sitting here, alone. In the younger years she thought of ways to invite him in. He never agreed until the night she stole his helmet.

She no longer wanted this divide anymore. Princess and knight. Lady and steward. She wanted Criston where he truly belonged, which was at her side.

A knock on the door broke her thoughts. She opened it to greet Criston.

“Mi’lady, I request a brief leave. I wish to see my family for dinner.”

Rhaenyra nodded. “Of course.”

“I trust you’re safe in your chambers provided you don’t sneak out but...” he slips her his own dagger. “Stay safe.”

“Ser Criston.” Rhaenyra stopped him. “May I come?”

The chambers of House Cole was settled in east tower of Castle Blackhaven. While small, the warmth inside the home was a vast contrast to the dark coldness of Blackhaven.

The feast, however simple, was still lively and extravagant. She met Criston’s brothers, Simon and Peter and sister Sarah. Criston’s brothers were both married with young children, while Sarah seemed to be unmarried.

Rhaenyra found Will, while serious in the castle was quite warm and friendly for a nobleman. The mother, Corinne, busied herself in the kitchen. She was clearly stressed over the unexpected guest.

Everyone in the house was so...welcoming. A very strange thing for the princess, who was used to less friendly dinners.

Steadfast and true, indeed.

“Mother,” said Sarah, “Please sit down!”

“In a moment!” Corinne rushed to the table, bowing a head to Rhaenyra. “I’m so sorry Mi’Lady, I hadn’t time to ask the Lady of Blackhaven for the finer dishes.”

“It’s quite - may I help you?” Rhaenyra asked.

“Oh, no!” Corinne pulled a chair for Rhaenyra. “Please sit.”

“Forgive me if the food isn’t to taste.” Said Corinne, passing out plates filled with meats and cooked vegetables.

“No, it’s amazing!” Rhaenyra said with truth. She found herself eating more than she usually had at the Red Keep.

“Mother, give her a moment,” said Sarah, “I’m sure the princess is still distressed over what occurred.”

“I know,” said Corinne as she took a seat across from Rhaenyra. “I cannot believe anyone would leave such a beautiful woman at the altar. And the Princess of Dragonstone!”

“Yes it’s quite--“

“My brother and his men most likely scared him away.” Simon quipped.

Peter sneered. “Or maybe Ser Laenor fancied them.”

“Peter!” Corinne scolded, then turned to her husband. “Will, say something!”

“Come off it, Corinne,” said Will, “The whole seven realms know that boy is a fruit!”

The table roared in laughter, even Rhaenyra couldn’t help herself. Corinne pursed her lips in absolute fury.

Will chuckled at his flustered wife.

“What? We arent that far from the Stepstones. Of all the men to wed to the princess. She be better off with one of those celibate kingsguards, eh my boy?”

“Mmm, indeed.” Criston murmured as he drank his mead.

“God, Will, she’s sitting right here!” Corinne chastised. “We’re having a very nice dinner and I will not have it spoiled with your--“

“I’m in love with your son.”

Cole spit out his beer. All eyes were quickly cast on Rhaenyra. Sarah jumped out of her seat and ran to through to the door. She opened it, looked both ways and closed it again. “I see nobody.”

Everyone drew closer in their chairs, focused on Rhaenyra. She bit her lip and played with the rings on her fingers.

“Ser Laenor didn’t leave me at the altar. I left him,” said Rhaenyra. “I made...a quite mess of things...but I would want nothing more than your blessing to let us be married.”

Criston’s parents looked at each other. Speechless. Slack-jawed.

“Our blessing?”

Rhaenyra blinked. “Well, yes, I need a blessing right?”

“She is adorable...” whispered one brother’s wife to another.

Will stood up, stammering. “Words cannot express the...honor your words being us, Princess.”

His brothers looked at Criston, aghast.

“I knew it!” Peter shouted.

“You knew nothing!” Criston snapped back.

“Are you joking, you don’t just don’t show up with a woman--“

“God, Peter,” his wife, Rose, bemoaned.

“She’s not just a woman she’s the princess!” Sarah exclaimed, throwing a napkin at Peter. “You disrespectful cunt!”

“Cris, you fucking dog!” Simon exclaimed. “I knew you had it in you! Stealing the Realm’s Delight from those noble fucks!”

“Simon!”

“This man,” Simon told Rhaenyra as he grabbed Criston by the collar. “The Folly of the Maidens they called him! Many hearts of the Marches are broken tonight!”

“Did you not take a vow of celibacy?” Peter quipped.

The whole table, again, fell silent.

“My god, Peter...” Rose sighed, shaking her head.

“I’m just asking, I don’t personally care-“

“Shut up, Peter!”

“House Targaryen is going to flatten us,” Simon’s wife, Lily, warned. Lily then jumped at the realization of Rhaenyra sitting next to her. “I mean---I’m so sorry...”

“It’s not House Targaryen,” said Peter, “it’s the rest of them - - oof, I bet the Baratheons are just livid!”

“Enough!” Corinne exclaimed.

“What can I do?” Will asked Rhaenyra, purposely avoiding the spectacle before them.

“Give me guidance,” said Rhaenyra, “how...dangerous is this situation?”

Will paused for a moment. “Does your father know where you are?”

“No, he doesn’t. Your family is safe.”

“Well,” said Will as he scratched his beard, “I wasn’t thinking of that initially, although that may be something to address. I was just thinking...I’m sure he is worried.”

Rhaenyra smiled, touched by his concern.

“Father,” said Peter, “I do wish you would consider our safety before the king’s personal feelings.”

“He’s probably feeling like putting House Cole’s heads on a pike.” Simon added.

“I’ll put your heads on a pike if you keep disrespecting yourselves in front of the princess!” William snapped.

“No, please, you all don’t have to treat me like a princess right now!” Rhaenyra put her head in her hands. “I’m just...a girl. Honestly.”

Sarah placed a hand on her back. “I can’t imagine...the pressure that you have been placed under.”

Pressure.

Rhaeneya had never felt pressured in her duties as royalty. She felt the emptiness of isolation, she felt the headache of annoyance. But until tonight, the heavy weight of her title sat in her chest. She took a deep breath trying to shake it, but every time she tried it grew stronger. It was suffocating. For the first time, Rhaeneya felt like she was going to collapse from the weight, the exhaustion, the fear of the consequences of what she had done.

This was the first time she had seen her actions affect someone outside of herself. Criston, his parents, brothers, nephews and nieces could all be killed. All because of her selfish desires. Rhaenyra wondered, is this how it will be as queen? People she had never met, living in lands she never stepped foot on, their lives counted on the decisions she could make.

Rhaenyra stood up, and announced her first real decision as the heir to the iron throne.

“We won’t run.” Rhaenyra said. “I will fix this. I won’t let anything happen to your house. It’s the least I can do for...such amazing food. And warmth I haven’t felt since my mother was alive.”

Corinne also stood. “Princess...I hope it doesn’t offend my lady if I could ask for an embrace?”

Rhaenyra looked at her, stunned. Before Corrine sat back down in embarrassment, Rhaeneya nearly ran to the other side of the table and ran into her arms. Corrine pulled her I to a tight hug, stroking her hair as Rhaenyra rested her head against her chest.

She didn’t even realize how much she had missed a mothers warmth.

———

Criston and Rhaenyra were met with the chill of the night air as they left the tower. Criston could feel her desire to wrap his arms around hers, but they both kept their distance. Still, Rhaenyra stayed close enough to lean her shoulder against his.

“I forgot to ask, Ser Criston,” said Rhaenyra, “What feast your family was celebrating.”

“Oh, no that’s a regular night for us.” Cole said. “Obscenities and all.”

Rhaenyra stoped. “Every night?”

Criston looked back at the tower “When I was younger, yes. But...tonight was special. It had been years since we were all together.

Rhaeneya stared at the tower as well, silent for a moment. Finally, she asked, “You don’t.....you don’t have conflict?”

Criston laughed. “Oh of course! Especially with my brother Simon. We always fought over each others girls. Next time you will have to ask him about Jenny Big T--“

He stopped himself, cleared his throat and murmured an “Excuse me.”

Rhaeneya looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “Big what?”

Criston motioned his hands as he answers nervously. “You...know”

Rhaenyra crossed her arms. “I do know, I want to hear you say it.”

He bit his lip and Rhaeneya burst into a laugh. “Criston! You can’t say the words tits in front of me?”

Criston looked down. “It feels vulgar in your presence Princess--“

“Tits, Criston! I command you to say “tits” right now!”

Criston shook his head, stifling a laugh. He just could not. Thankfully, a booming voice shouted from behind them and inturrupted their awkward moment.

“Cole!”

A tall, burly man dressed in armor jogged towards the two. The booming voice and large beard told Criston exactly who it was.

Criston eyes lit up. “Ser Arlan!”

Arlan Dondarrion looked Criston up and down, shaking his head. A wide grin was cast across his face. “Look at you...fucking, just look at you! A kingsguard!

“I....”

“And my sworn shield,” quipped Rhaenyra.

“Ah! Forgive my rudeness, Princess,” Arlan said as he bowed to her. “Ser Arlan Dondarrion.”

“I’ve heard so many great things about you, Ser Arlan.”

“As have my, Princess. The Realm’s Delight is such a beauty in the flesh!” Arlan turned to Criston and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve done your father proud.”

Criston grinned sheepishly. “Thank you, Ser.”

“So when’s the wedding?”

Both their eyes widened.

Arlan shook his head and chuckled. “Forgive my eavesdropping. I was outside the door, waiting for your beautiful sister - I mean, keeping watch of your family, in your leave.”

“Fucking dog!” Cole slapped his shoulder laughing.

“I can’t help myself, one day she will say yes!”

“I’ll raze your before that.”

“Raze nothing!” Arlan swung an arm over Criston’s shoulder. “Come, have a pint with me! we’ll see the princess to her quarters.”

Arlan glanced at Rhaenyra. “Or will the lady join us for a pint?”

Rhaeneya smirked. “If I’m not intruding.”

“Oh no, it’s an honor!”

Before Criston could object, the two took him on either arm and led him to the soldier’s quarters. The room was already in festive revelry. They were immediate warmed upon entering, and Criston hugged and drank with friends he hadn’t seen in years. He kept close to Rhaenyra, who was an especially popular figure with them.

She sat up on the table, conversing with the crowed of awe-eyed solders. To his surprise, she drank the mead quite smoothly - he figured that royalty was unable to imbibe in anytime other than wine.

How easily she socialized with folk considered lesser than her, was a stunning sight for everyone in the room.

“Tell us Princess,” asked one soldier, “What songs do they sing in King’s landing.

Rhaenyra paused. “Do you know The Bear and Maiden Fair?”

“Do we!” The men exclaimed as they burst into song to Rhaenyra’s amusement.

Arlan pulled Criston away, close enough to keep her in sight while out of earshot. Arlan took a swig of his beer and shook his head.

“Look at you. Bagging a Targaryen! No man in Blackhaven could imagine even seeing one!” Arlan smacked his shoulder. “And here you are with a 10 foot pole up your arse!”

“Ser Arlan,” said Cole, “I worry for the fallout should Lord Dondarrion discover --- “

Arlan shook his head, laughing. “Don’t worry about that. My brother, for now, is more concerned with his new child bride. He has no plans on your house, but when he hears the news,” Arlan placed his hands in his shoulders. “House Cole is protected.”

Cole let out a sigh. “Thank you.”

“This will be good for the Stormlands. Good for the realm. Relax for once!”

“Ser Arlan,” Criston sat his mug on the nearby table. He began to unbuckle his cloak, “This is for you. As a thank you, for bringing me up to where I am today.”

Arlan looked stunned as Criston dropped the fabric in his hands. “Are you mad?”

“I broke my oath, my vow to the Father,” Criston said as he looked down “Out of love and devotion, but regardless. I still soiled my white cloak. I shouldn’t be wearing it.”

Arlan looked like he wanted to kill him. “For God’s sake, lad. You really intend on flagellating yourself before those fatheads in King’s Landing? Come here.”

Arlan turned Criston around, redressing the cloak to his shoulders. Criston felt his shoulders lighter as pride filled him. To be cloaked by the man who made Ser Criston a knight. He never felt more honored.

“You’re a good man. An honorable man. There will be songs about you long after we’re dead.” Arlan said proudly.

“Thank you, Ser.”

“And quit saying you soiled your cloak in front of the Princess!” Arlan snapped. “Insulting her is a greater dishonor than breaking any vow.”

“Thank you!” shouted Rhaenyra, who glared at Criston.

Arlan raised a brow. “Eh? Good ears, that one.”

Criston chuckled. “Truly.”

“And look at her! Gods, Cole. The only one who will ruin this for you is yourself.”

Rhaenyra approached the two, stumbling in her drunkenness. Criston sped towards her, placing a hands on her shoulders.

“Was he always this serious?” Rhaenyra chuckled.

“As the day is long!” Arlan exclaimed as he patted Criston on the back. “Ser Criston is a good man.”

“I should see the Princess to her chambers,” said Criston as she leaned against his chest, giggling. His foot slipped from under him as he took his first step.

Arlan caught him and began to laugh. “I shall see you both to your chambers.”

———

Rhaenyra awoke to the sound of a raven cawing.

Even without the headache, the sound of a raven’s screech was enough to make her ears bleed. But especially after a night of Stormlands brew, it especially threatened to undo her sanity.

Raenyra groaned, shuffling towards the window. She untied the message from the bird’s claw and unraveled the paper. She first noticed the seal fused onto the parchment - The Prince of Dragonstone.

Rhaenyra ignored that it was her own seal on that paper. But since she allowed Daemon to stay, she could not fault him too much.

“My Dearest Niece,

It behooves you to come visit Lord Velaryon at Driftmark. We have mended all tensions. I have assembled a ship to Essos for you. It’s not full of oranges, but you will surely get your fill in your new life.

Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys have assured your safe passage, as well as for Ser Crispin.”

“Gods,” said Rhaenyra. The man truly cannot help himself. She continued to read:

“I will be there to greet you. I plan to propose to Lady Laena, and wish for nothing more than to have my niece at my side.

All my love,

Your Dear Uncle”

A knock on the door filled the silence of the room. The door creaked open as Criston entered. His face was sunken, eyes still tired from last nights revelry.

“Come lay down,” Rhaeneya said as she approached him, guiding him to the mattress. “You need rest before we make our leave.”

His eyes drifted opened and closed as Rhaenyra unbuckled his armor. When all but his gambeson remained, he slipped under the covers as Rhaenyra pulled the blankets over him.

“To Essos?” Criston yawned sleepily.

“Driftmark.”

Criston’s eyes shot back open. He said nothing, he needn’t too with the look on his face. Rhaeneya sat by the edge of the bed, stroking his face.

“Let me protect you this time.” said Rhaenyra.

Criston looked at her. “Rhae.”

“Yes?”

He hooked the collar of her dress and gently guided her to him. “I’m sorry,” he kissed her.

“For what, now?” Rhaeneya kissed him again.

“For...my words.” Criston kissed her again. “On the ship. Back then.”

Ah yes. The soiled white cloak.

“Being able to love you is the greatest honor I could ask for.” Criston said.

“To love you is my greatest honor as well.” Rhaeneya kissed him again.

———

Daemon stood before the Driftwood Throne, spinning the tip of his boot into the ground. He was really getting bored of Lord Corlys’ deluge of perceived disrespect. Daemon knew that to return Corlys to his side would require a bit of self flagellation. But Daemon’s patience wore thin as the Sea Snake continued to complain about his neice, his brother, the entire family.

After all, Daemon himself could only tolerate so much disrespect. He took Corlys’ pause of words as an open to strike.

“I remember when my brother was chosen,” Daemon said, “Princess Rhaenys was quite upset, weren’t you, Dear Cousin?”

Rhaenys, who hadn’t said a word yet, simply shrugged. “Time heals some wounds.”

“Not ones this deep,” said Daemon, “Dear Rhaenyra is a lot like you are.”

“A lot like I was.” Rhaenys corrected, “She’ll change...when her father captures them. When he kills her lover. The light she holds in her eyes will die. Just like mine.”

“Do you really want that?”

Corlys and Rhaenys did not answer.

“I’ll be more specific,” said Daemon, “Do you think a Hightower should sit on the Iron Throne?”

The two glanced at each other. Corlys kept his lips right, the furrow in his brow telling the answer.

“I didn’t think so,” Daemon said with a smirk as he began to pace the court. “A crown to Aegon is a crown to that snake Otto Hightower.”

“Otto Hightower has been removed from the court for quite some time.” Corlys countered.

“He will be back the moment my brothers heart stops beating, you know that,” said Daemon, “Rhaenyra, despite her affinity for impulse, carries deep respect for our heritage and both our houses.”

Daemon stopped his pacing and stood in front of them. “As queen, I imagine she would rely on both of you as very close advisors.”

Corlys remained stern. “It means nothing if our houses are not united.”

Daemon raised his hands in the air. “Then we unite them!”

“We tried. Twice.”

Daemon left a palm outstretched towards Corlys. “I am here to request Lady Laena’s hand in marraige. All our heirs will carry the name Valeryon. And their heirs.”

“Go on.” Rhaenys said.

“I also propose that any house that wishes to join our children in marraige must give up their name. Whether they are man or woman does not matter. And your line continues.”

Corlys looked at Rhaenys, who placed her hand over his. Rhaenys stayed silent for a moment , deep in thought. Finally, she said, “You’re wrong, Daemon. I do not want to see the light in her eyes fade.”

Corlys gave a nod, looking back at Daemon. “I accept your proposal. And, I will help you.”

“Oh, not me,” said Daemon as he wore a impish grin. “Our future queen.”

Next Chapter

#editing this is a bitch on mobile #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #criston cole #rhaenyra x criston #criston x rhaenyra #criston/rhaenyra #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #Leona writes

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nickgerlich · 1 year

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Share Bears

I’m pretty sure it is brushed off as a victimless crime. After all, it’s easy to justify if someone is at least paying some money, so what’s wrong with sharing the benefits of that? As it turns out, Netflix is not too keen on that, which occurs whenever we share our password with someone living outside our home. The company has been in the news the last couple of weeks, first for announcing a planned crackdown, and then the outrage that followed.

Turns out the company also accidentally let slip some information it had not planned on releasing.

Password sharing is likely as common as driving eight over the speed limit. It’s OK, right? They’re already making zillions of dollars, so what’s wrong with letting my cousin, sister, daughter, whomever, have my password so they can watch a little television? Unfortunately for Netflix, they set themselves up for this back in 2007 when they started streaming, without an easy way—at least then—of tracking down the ne-erdowells.

But they plan to do so soon, with condescending proclamations they will crack down and monitor IP addresses, device IDs, and more to make sure that only one household is using an account.

Amid these fear-instilling statements, though, was information about how they had been test marketing the crackdown in Chile, Peru, and Costa Rica, which essentially amounted to a surcharge of about $3 a month to add two more users not within the household. Oops. They took down that information from their web page once the dog pile hit the fan, and have back-pedaled a bit by saying the changes are not coming yet. Emphasis on yet.

Essentially, the proposed plan would require that the account holder login at least once every 31 days from their home base, which is a recognizable IP address that Netflix will use as comparison for all other logins. Supposedly this allows for the account holder to travel, but must also return home, which effectively amounts to a 31-day leash. Netflix has said it would issue temporary access codes for those away long than that, though.

While the method seems straightforward, there are too many unanswered questions. What if you use a VPN on your device? That means your IP is always changing. What if you have multiple devices within your possession, and take them to office or coffeeshop? What if you are a full-time RVer who does not have a home base, and is always in a different campground? Oh, and what about divorced couples whose children shift back and forth between their parents’ homes?

In other words, there are some holes in the plan, and it is going to rankle those people affected. And, of course, it will make others irate if only because they have grown comfortable with speeding. I mean sharing passwords.

If anything, Netflix needs to go back to the drawing board to figure out how best to package their various user bundles, which includes number of devices streaming at any one time, as well as locations. Rather than sound foreboding, as if they are going to send out vile lawyer letters or have the police set a streaming trap, they should be a little more upbeat and say, for example, “For $20 a month, you can stream up to four devices at up to three IP addresses at a time.” This way the focus is on benefits, not punishment.

Shame on Netflix for having waited 16 years to try to solve a problem that has been growing ever since the inception of streaming. By fumbling the ball, they wound up getting a lot of highly targeted bad PR, from social media to late-night comedians. It seems the company glossed over the issue until it noticed a downturn in subscribers last year. That’s when it offered the reduced-price subscription plan with ads. Although numbers did level off, the company is not satisfied, and has actually stated they realize they will lose some people along the way.

You can bet the other streamers are watching closely, because this issue affects all of them. Basically, Netflix has already shown everyone how not to address the problem. It’s up to Netflix to fix it, or let someone else do it right down the road.

Dr “Just Take My Money—I’m Good“ Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #Netflix #password #sharing

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tawogrob · 3 years

Photo

Heard the news...

#from minion b:#this is epic #from minion m:#everyone with unanswered questions we will try to address them soon ;_;#as u can imagine. rob is very busy

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peachys-archived-posts · 3 years

Text

Drop Back By

Summary: A magnet for trouble in the state of Jersey plans to steal something from a big event, Lupin and his gang have already began to steal it, and Jigen doesn't plan on letting you get in his way or hurt.

Warning: minor violence

My AO3

You were a local thief in the state of Jersey, you'd never been caught before but you sure had close encounters with other thieves. Getting out of trouble unscathed was rare, they were brutal, all of them. Tonight would be different this time, you would make sure it was, yet a feeling of unease settled in when the party was really about to get started.

The host spoke over the microphone, everyone around you smiling, clapping, hooting, and hollering, and over all of the commotion, your attention was focused on the itch between your shoulder blades. You looked around in search of any peering eyes from the neighboring tables, yet, you saw no one.

Trying to ignore the feeling, you listened in on the speech, and cheered along with everyone else.

Jigen leaned against the wall, a hand in his pocket and the other raising the cold bourbon to his lips, watching you closely. He noticed you glancing around, obvious discomfort on your face, you never seemed to spot him though. This didn't surprise him as you were no expert of course.

The piece in his ear crackled to life, snapping him from his daze.

"Do you have a clear visual?" Lupin asked.

"Yeah-" Jigen froze, his eyes scanning the table you had just been at, he moved closer. The white fabric is stained with the wine offered at the bar, his head snapped in the direction of muffled cries.

Your hands pulled and scraped at the hand around your mouth, the firm arm around your waist preventing you from making a move to escape. You struggled against them, your muffled screams seeming to have caught the attention of one specific person.

Jigen grabbed his gun from it's holster, firing at your captor. A few shots in and they fall to the ground, scrambling away from where they dropped you.

Screams rang out and the power cut, it was hectic trying to even stand. You couldn't see the hundreds of feet thundering by, leaving you stranded on the floor, you weren't even sure how visible you were to anyone else.

Jigen's vision adjusted, allowing him to have a clear run at you. Running to you, he linked his arm under yours and pulled you up to your feet.

"Are you okay?!" He yelled over the shouting. The piece in his ear made it even harder to hear what you were saying, frustration began to rise. "I'm okay, thank you!" You yelled back.

Jigen's hand slid from your bicep to the palm of your hand, tugging you towards Lupin. He snatched out the earpiece and threw it to the ground.

He butted open a door and pulled you close behind him and you ran. Black figures further down the hallway blocked your way, "Get down!" Jigen yelled at you.

Letting your hand slip from his, you tumbled and rolled out of range of the other thieves. Jigen wasted no time in dropping them one by one, right after the other. As you watched from the sidelines in awe, you were grasped harshly around the arm.

Panicked, you pulled your pistol from it's holster and slammed it against your "to be" captors head. Groaning in pain they released your arm to clutch their head.

"C'mon, there's more coming!" Jigen warned, offering you a hand. Gladly taking it, he heaved you up and the two of you set back off down the hallway. Men shouted from behind as you ran, having to slow down at the next turn so as to not bust your ass.

The door at the end of the hallway was thrown open by a gentleman in a red jacket, he ushered both you and Jigen in. Turning on his heel, Jigen fired the last few shots towards the rest of them, Lupin rushing to slam the door shut tight.

Running over to behind him you grabbed the back of the bookshelves.

"Move!" You ordered.

Jigen and Lupin obeyed, watched you throw the book case down, blocking the door. Your chest heaved, the faint ache in your legs just telling you how much more you needed to do. This job was nothing for the lazy, but in fact the opposite.

"You guys okay?" Lupin asked. You turned to face him, he stood beside Jigen with a concerned look on his face. "Yeah, I'm okay." You responded. Jigen nodded, "Out of breath,"

Lupin nodded, turning towards a locker in the corner of the room, he pulled a duffle full of stuff out and zipped it up.

"Lupin, are you fine here by yourself?" Jigen asked his partner. Lupin looked at him with a cocky grin. "Of course,"

Jigen turned to you. "C'mon, I'll take you home." He offered.

Jigen opened the exit to the back of the building, stepping to the side to allow you to leave first. Nodding your head, you thanked him quietly. The door clicked shut behind you and he took the lead, tugging keys out of his pocket as he walked. He stopped at a yellow soft-top Mercedes, climbing into the passenger seat, you laid your head back, taking in a shaky breath.

The engine rumbled to life, Jigen reached over, shuting his door. Reaching up and adjusting the rear view, he also reaches towards the dash and presses a button. The soft-top slowly raised above your head, clicking into place.

"Pass me a cigarette will you?" Jigen outstretched his hand for you to pass him a cig. You reached forward and grabbed one from the pile on the dash. "Thank you," He grabbed it from your hand, bringing it to his lips and lighting it.

You couldn't help but stare out the window in thought, the night started out just fine and then it went to shit. The fact that it all happened so fast still shocked you.

"What's your name?" You asked.

Jigen looked over at you, his hat covering his eyes. "Jigen."

Putting the car in drive, he looked at you. "What's your address?" He asked.

You gave him your address and silence filtered over the two of you. There were questions left unanswered that you wanted to know.

"Why?" You pondered aloud. "Why did you do what you did, Jigen?" You asked.

Jigen took the cigarette from his mouth, flicking the ash out the cracked window. "Because, you have a reputation for attracting trouble, and we didn't plan on letting that intervene." He said.

Harsh, but at least it wasn't a lie.

"What about those other guys? Do you know why they were after me?" You asked.

Jigen hummed. "No, I figured you already knew." He explained.

"Oh,"

Looking away from him and out the window you leaned against the glass, closing your eyes. It wasn't long before Jigen was nudging you to conscience. "We're here."

You lifted your head from the window, a light blush spreading across your cheeks. You must have fallen asleep on the way here without realizing. Gathering whatever stuff you may have laid about, you opened the car door and closed it behind you. As you walked to his door, Jigen rolled the window down.

"I just wanted to say, thank you for tonight. If not for you, I wouldn't be coming home at all."

Jigen smiled, lowering the brim of his hat to cover his smile.

"You're welcome, it was no trouble at all." Jigen admitted.

A quiet beat skipped by, you spoke again. "If you're ever coming back through Jersey anytime soon please, feel free to drop by, my door is always open to you and your friends."

Jigen lowered his hat even more. "Of course, I'll let Lupin know if we ever decide to drop back by."

You smiled gently, reaching in and grabbing his hand, you encased it with your own.

"Stay safe,"

You let go of his hand before standing up and giving him a wave from your porch. Waving, Jigen honked the horn and just like that he was gone. Even though your mission was unsuccessful, you were glad that you made it home okay. You could probably learn a couple things from their group if they ever actually did come by.

#lupin the third #jigen daisuke #lupin iii #lupin the third x reader #jigen daisuke x reader #goemon ishikawa xiii #lupin iii x reader

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chocolatte-and-despair · 3 years

Text

The unsolved case of Iris Tyson

It’s always tragic hearing about someone ending up dead. But it’s even more tragic when the culprit is never found, and the family of the victim never gets the closure that they deserve. Today, we’re talking about one of those cases. Today, we’re talking about the unsolved case of Iris Tyson.

The reason why I decided to focus on Iris’ case is because of the little to no coverage that her case has gotten, and I believe that it’s only right to spread the word at least a little bit.

Iris, a 23-year-old woman, was an only child, but her family was big, her having a lot of aunts, uncles, and cousins. She was loved by everyone, and people said that she had a magnetic personality. Iris adored singing and never shied away from entertaining people with her singing.

Iris at the time of her going missing was unemployed but she always wanted to become a veterinarian. She also loved her cat, Yum-Yum, like her own daughter.

Iris was someone who preferred being at home over going outside with friends or going on trips. Iris and one of her friends were planning on going on a trip to Florida Keys, but Iris canceled the trip after she realized that she wouldn’t want to be away from home for so long.

From what I found while looking around, there is a Facebook group dedicated to her memory and some of her cousins have made tributes on YouTube of her best photos. That is enough to show that she is missed. It’s heartbreaking that her family has not found closure just yet.

The day of the accident was Mother’s Day, May 8, 2011. The location that this took place in was South Philadelphia and from reports, this happened around 1 PM.

It was Mother’s Day and Iris wanted to get her mother, Kelly, a surprise mother’s day’s gift. The gift was going to be a mother’s day’s card. Iris told her father about her plan, and he happily agreed with keeping it a secret from Kelly. Before Iris could slip away, Kelly caught her and asked where she was going. Kelly explains that she’s going to run to the grocery store and will be back “in a little bit”. That was the last thing that Kelly told her family before disappearing.

Seeing as this happened a lot of times, her family had no reason to suspect that something might happen. She usually took the Pathway on Oregon Avenue, which was only a few blocks away from where they lived. They had no reason to think that something bad would happen on that very day. Ironically so, the day was beautiful, as if trying to mask the tragedy that is going to happen not too long after.

It didn’t take long for her family to start getting worried about Iris. It was around 3 PM when this happened. Iris was a responsible person and she had made plans to be back and have dinner with her mother. By 6 PM, the family was frantic, and they filed a missing person’s report. Fearing that something horrible happened to Iris, they reported the disappearance of their daughter to Philadelphia’s police department.

Like in many cases, the police did not do much initially. As in many cases where an adult disappears, they said to the family that because the person is an adult, they could have simply left on their own or they are doing something without telling the family. That usually happens in cases like these. At times, police take weeks before taking an adult’s missing case seriously, and that minimalizes the chances of finding the person still alive or find the person at all.

After realizing that the police were not going to do anything to help the family, Iris’ family and friends got to work trying to search for the missing woman. Family and friends went around posting missing person posters, and her parents drove around the neighborhood’s streets in search of their missing daughter. Sadly, everything was in vain, as they found no trace of the poor girl.

People who knew Iris knew that she would never go missing without telling her family or friends about her whereabouts. She was a good and diligent person who was very close to her family and had no history of trying to run away from home. She was especially close with her mother, Kelly.

Iris’ parents, Joe, and Kelly did everything they could to try and spread awareness about the disappearance of their daughter. They took interviews with several reporters, but those interviews were never aired live. Joe and Kelly were very frustrated by the lack of cooperation from the police and local news media.

After a week of relentless searching for Iris, the family received a call that no family wants to get. The police reported that a body was found in an overgrown, grassy Point Breeze lot on Sunday morning. The police say that Iris died from blunt force trauma to the head, which was ruled out to be a homicide. Joe went to identify the body and confirmed that it’s Iris, based on the butterfly tattoo that the body had.

The body was found by someone who was collecting bottles near an abandoned area. When family and friends heard that, they said confidently that Iris was not the type of person that would go to places like that. She was a responsible and clever young woman and knew to avoid places like that. Her family and friends were sure that she was abducted and brought there by force.

The coroner’s office determined that Iris died from blunt force to her head. And even if when her body was found her pants were removed, there were no signs of sexual assault or a robbery. As of right now, detectives are not sure about the motive or reason behind this murder.

This case left a lot of questions in the minds of the policemen. A spokesperson of the police force said that there were many questions left unanswered. They didn’t know if the murder was committed in the overgrown lot, or if it happened somewhere else and the body was simply dropped off at the location. Police say that they believe Iris’ body was dropped off there hours after her disappearance.

To say the least, it was almost too much for the family to handle, knowing that their daughter was so close to home without them knowing that or being able to help.

Because of the Police’s lack of initial involvement and concern about Iris’ missing status, they were forced to hurry by trying to understand what happened and create a timeline. So, based on the witness report, Iris was heading towards the Oregon Plaza shopping center, but there are no reports of her ever arriving there. Last, she has been seen at the intersection of 4th and Ritner.

As protocol, the police interviewed the family to try and figure out if anyone might have a motive to kill Iris, but her family and friends were confused, and nobody came to mind. Iris was known as a very sweet person, who was generally beloved by everyone. It seemed like an impossible thought to them that anyone would want to murder Iris.

Iris also didn’t seem to know anyone in the area where she was found dead. The area was generally deserted too, as most homes were abandoned. It’s still a mystery to the detectives on why Iris was even there in the first place.

Sadly, like many other cases, Iris’ case didn’t get much publicity when it first happened. Not even when her body was found did the reporters find this case interesting enough to write anything about it. That reduced the family’s chance to get the world about the tragedy that struck them, and to maybe catch the killer.

The family was desperate for any information, and in September of that year, started to offer a 2,000$ reward to anyone who was able to provide any information about the case. But nobody came forward.

In a last-ditch effort, the family rose the reward money for any information to 3,500$ in October, but that also didn’t get any attention, and nobody sent any information.

Kelly went to the press, while addressing the murderer. She explains that they took her daughter and best friend away but that they were willing to forgive them if they came out and allowed the family to find closure. That still didn’t bear any fruits for the family and to this day, the case remains unsolved.

In 2017, reporters interview Joe, and the man says that time didn’t heal the wounds that Iris’ murder caused the whole family, and they think of her every day, hoping that one day justice will be served and that Iris’ could finally be put to rest.

If you have any information about Iris’s murder, please contact the Citizens Crime Commission of the Delaware Valley at 215–546–8477. You may remain anonymous. Do NOT prank call this number. This situation is not a joke and should be taken seriously.

My opinions about this case:

Iris was clearly a good person who didn’t deserve this. She had a loving family and a bright future before her. She was kind and generally beloved. A truly good person. It’s rare to meet people like that nowadays and it’s a tragedy that we lost her.

Her family still has an active facebook group, missing her disappearance. It’s clear that the family loved Iris and that it hurts to them that her killer couldn’t be caught. That she still hasn’t been put to rest.

I partially blame the police for their lack of involvement in the beginning. It’s sad but this is how a lot of cases of adults going missing are handled. If the police would have listened to the family originally, they might have caught the killer or at least found the body sooner.

All I can hope for is that the family finds justice soon and that Iris is finally able to know that she has been avenged and that nobody else is going to have the same fate as her.

Source Materials:

Article 1

Article 2

Article 3

Facebook group

#news #true crime #unsolved case #unsolved homicide #iris tyson #not known

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todomochi-uwu · 4 years

Text

Babygirl. (7/?) wrong direction.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x reader

Warning: Angst, Age Difference

Author’s Note: I actually cried with this one, hope you do too.

Tags: @afuckingunicornn @ikebukuro-ghoul @dulcetailurophile@your-pri-ncess @huh-iwasntpayingattention @samkysnks @trashymusse @kaylaphantomhive @lrdexplodokills @vintage-teddyxo @baguettes-stuff @7teenlyfe @trashybebe @rise-from-the-ahes-the-phoenix96 @blakebearsblog @rawr-for-all-bitches @bubera974 @richkookie @aurorahoneybuns @semicielo @bva14 @bnhaismylife @justarandombnhafan @thatcreepycat @minloey @spooky-madison @cookednoodlez @bitchtrynafck @lvsersclubb @wassupducks @saucysuazo

That same morning tension in the agency could be cut with a knife, Bakugou´s nasty humour was filling the entire place and everyone could feel it. Kirishima was smart enough to know exactly what was happening, he could see it in Bakugou's face, regret and sorrow covered his features. He wanted to comfort him, let him know everything would be alright but it was useless, he won't be able to change his mind.

On the other side, Todoroki wanted to ask a bunch of questions; what was he thinking of leaving with Uraraka? Did they sleep together? Does this mean they are getting back together? Can he ask you out? All these questions left unanswered cause as soon as he approached the boom boom man, he shoved the door right in his face, telling him to fuck right off.

Everyone else was too afraid to approach him the rest of the day, so he was alone in his office, except for Izuku who came in to deliver some paperwork.

"Hey Kacchan, I heard you were in a bad mood today, care to explain why?" Izuku's eyes were not directed to him, but the tone in his voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I already told Icy-Hot to fuck off, you can take a hint, can't you Deku?" The looks in his eyes training to pierce, unsuccessfully, through Izuku.

"Don't worry I want to talk for a minute, it'll be quick."

"Then spit it out."

"After you left that night with Ochako I was pretty surprised, I thought that story was done and you closed the book, but now I guess you've decided to reopen it, right Kacchan?"

"I won't say anything about that, it was a fucking mistake, it's done."

"Oh but I don't think it is, first you avoid Mrs Y/LN at all costs, then you break up all a sudden with her, be miserable for a while to finally run into Ochako's arms once again. Am I missing a detail?" Bakugou's silence answered for him, "Personally I think it's great, you know? Getting your family back together, besides..." The tone on his voice went lower, dangerously, his intentions were no good and Bakugou knew it, but he also knew he couldn't blat out in the middle of the agency, not again. "This only means that Y/N is available, right? She´s single I mean."

Bakugou gritted his teeth, he wanted to punch him for every single freckle that green-haired asshole, but he kept his composure. "What are you trying to get at, fucking nerd?"

"Oh you know, she's gorgeous, I had lunch with her the other day, a magnificent writer, brilliant woman. She knows more about romanticism than I know about All Might." He let out a small giggle before continuing, "Ended up spending the rest of the day with her, and I couldn't resist myself I ask for her number and well..." This time his eyes were position directly on the blonde man, provoking him. "I ask her out."

Enough. Bakugou thought, before slamming Midoriya against the wall, his eyes injected with blood and rage, his breathing heavy and slow, the strong grip he had around Midoriya's neck almost hurting him.

"I don't understand Kacchan, I thought you were done with her, at least... that's what I heard you say to Kirishima a few weeks ago." A smirk covered his entire face.

"Don't play with me fucking Deku, you aren't man enough to handle her, she's everything while you are absolutely nothing." His voice low, spit in every word.

"I may not be man enough for her, but I'm hero enough to love her. If I recall correctly, she dedicated that book to me, the number one hero." He wasn't scared, determined. He shoved his finger right into Bakugou's face, indicating he was the number one hero, not him. "Besides, who are you to talk, leaving her without so much as a goodbye, it's not me who is a coward it's you, Kacchan."

He used his old nickname against him, taunting him, messing and teasing with his feelings. Bakugou was trying not to let him get into his head, but it was too late. Before he could say anything else the sound of a ringtone interrupted, it was Midoriya's phone. Both of them turning their heads to the lighted up screen, Y/FN displayed at the of the screen.

"Well look at that." Midoriya's thumb pressed to answer, and a few seconds later your voice appeared.

"Hey, Izuku." Bang. A shot to the heart, first name basis.

"Hello, love. Is everything okay?" He answered, Bakugou's eyes were slowly filling with tears, lately that was a habit in him.

"Yeah, don't worry. I was just wondering if we were still up for having dinner at my place later tonight. I bought a bottle of red wine and a lot of popcorn bags, you can't bail on me." She let out a small laugh, a laugh Bakugou missed so dearly.

"Of course we are still up for tonight, already scheduled my early leave and my day off for tomorrow." His eyes directly onto Bakugou's, he was serious.

"Great! You already have my address, see you tonight!"

"See you, doll." He hanged up.

Silence covered the room, Izuku waiting for Bakugou to say something, but that wasn't happening.

"See Kacchan, told you I was..."

"Pasta."

"What?"

"She loves alfredo sauce with lots of garlic bread, she prefers to have iced coffee over any drink and she cries every time she ends a chapter." He rambled.

"Bakugou what are you..." Interrupted once again.

"Don't let her watch too many true crime videos, she gets paranoic; she classifies everything in colours in order of the rainbow and her favourite flowers are red, almost maroon roses. "

"Kacchan..." He said in disbelief.

"I love her with everything I've got, I'm convinced she's the love of my life, never have I been more sure, but I also know I can't make her happy. Not when I'm this coward, so if anyone else can make her feel loved, then so be it." His face looked down the entire time, not wanting Izuku to see him cry, but he couldn't help it. "As long as she 's happy, I know I will be."

#bnha #bnha deku #bnha x reader #bnha angst #bnha smut #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha izuku midoriya #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou katsuki angst #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki imagine #midoriya izuku angst #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya smut #midoriya x reader

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midwinterblinder · 4 years

Text

This is me trying

Chapter 5: “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Everyone is already gathered around the table in the middle of the room when Beth and Josephine step into the room. It’s not a very big tournament so there aren’t that many people, but it’s still a decent turnout. There’s even a reporter there, who snaps a picture of the two women as they make their way to the table.

Another picture is taken when they shake hands before sitting down. Everyone’s eyes lock onto the board when the clock is started and Beth, who plays with white, makes the first move. Benny doesn’t register anything other than the moves on the board as the game unfolds. The game lasts longer than any of the others that were played during the tournament, but eventually there’s no other choice for Josephine but to admit defeat.

Benny’s eyes move from the board to Josephine’s face when he realises she has lost. He watches her closely as she takes a deep breath before removing her eyes from the board and holding out her hand to Beth, who takes it with a nod of her head.

The other people applaud but Benny just watches the two women in front of him as Josephine congratulates Beth with a grace he didn’t expect after seeing her so frustrated when she beat Burns the first day of the tournament. His mind momentarily drifts back to when he last sat across from her at a final. He had won that time and he recalls how he pulled her in when the reporters had all left. Just before he kissed her he had teasingly muttered ‘better luck next time’ against her lips, but that next time never came.

*****

“Josephine, wait!” A voice calls out to Josephine as she is about to get in the elevator to go up to her room. She puts her hand on the door to stop it from closing before looking over her shoulder to see Beth standing there. “We’re having a few drinks in the hotel bar.” Beth starts. “I was wondering if you’d like to join us?”

“Oh.” Josephine is taken aback by the invitation and takes her hand off the elevator door to let it close. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” She says as she fully turns to face Beth. She’s pretty sure that Benny won’t want her there and she doesn’t know the other people she has seen Beth with, so she has no idea if they will want her around. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding, I’m inviting you.” Beth assures her. “Matt and Mike really want to meet you and Townes won’t mind.” She goes on. “And I’ve asked Benny as well. He said it was fine.” Beth finally adds, hoping this will be the final push Josephine needs. She can tell the other woman is still not sure. “Look, there aren’t many women at these tournaments and it would be nice to talk to someone other than the boys for a change.” Beth opens up about the real reason she would like Josephine to join.

Beth’s admission causes Josephine to lock eyes with the redhead. She would like to get to know Beth as well, but being around Benny is a bad idea and the two seem to be a package deal. If he finds out she’s spending time with Benny it could cause problems. Benny doesn’t play many tournaments though and it would be nice to spend time with Beth at tournaments, so she decides to give in. “Okay.”

Beth smiles at her and the two of them make their way to the hotel bar where the others are already waiting. The twins get up from their seats to greet Josephine as soon as they spot the two women. “We used to follow all your games, Josephine.” Matt tells her a he reaches out to shake her hand. “I’m Matt by the way.”

“Yeah, especially your finals against Benny over there.” Mike adds as he sticks out his hand to shake hers as soon as Matt has let go. “I’m Mike.” He adds and Josephine quietly thanks them for their kind words.

Townes patiently waits for the twins to stop gushing over her before he stands up to shake her hand as well. “Townes.” He simply tells her and she responds with a quiet ‘nice to meet you’. He can tell that she’s uncomfortable and he assumes it’s because of Benny, who hasn’t said a word yet even though he has been watching her since she reached their table.

When Josephine’s eyes meet Benny’s she sends him a nod and a slight smile before taking the seat Matt gestures to. Benny nods in return before his eyes move to the beer in front of him. He’s not sure how to feel about this. After he snapped at her earlier this weekend he has being feeling a little less angry at Josephine for leaving, but there are too many unanswered question for him to just forgive and forget. He just doesn’t know how to act around her anymore and now Beth wants to be friends with her, which means that he will have to see her more often.

They all order drinks and the twins keep the conversation going, but after they’ve addressed Josephine by her full name for the third time she stops them. “Please call me Jo.” She tells them with a kind smile that seems to be the first genuine one of the weekend. “Only my father calls me Josephine, and only when he’s angry.”

“How is he?” Benny speaks up for the first time after she says this and she looks up to meet his eyes. He likes the man and it was nice to have a father figure around for a change.

“He uh, he’s okay.” Josephine answers as her eyes move to the wall behind Benny. “You know how he got after mom passed away.” She says and he nods. Benny remembers it all too well. “There hasn’t been much change.” She tells him.

Benny stays silent as he waits for her to make eye contact with him again. He knows she will, because she always avoided looking him in the eye when she had to talk about something she found difficult and she always returned her eyes to him once she got the words out. This time is no different and he holds her gaze as he answers. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He says softly, but the others have gone silent, so she hears him loud and clear.

Josephine sends him a watery smile and Benny feels a slight pain in his chest as he sees how much it hurts her, but she’s quick to look away from him again. He frowns when she does. Maybe he's not the only one who doesn't know how to act. “Well that completely ruined the mood.” Josephine tries to lighten the mood as she forces a smile on her face and stands up. “Can I get anyone another drink?

#the queen's gambit #the queens gambit imagine #the queen's gambit fanfiction #benny watts #benny watts imagine #benny watts fanfiction

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sexymanera · 4 years

Text

the second star to the right

kalim al-asim

female reader

semi angst

peter pan au

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

“Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting.”

“heave-ho!” the loud thump sound made its way to your ears as you jolted awake, scared for what you might witness. was it a burglar? a kidnapper? it made you paranoid how your inner questions were left unanswered as you slowly grabbed a hard-covered book from your night desk to attack the intruder. at the corner of your room, you caught a glimpse of a boy snooping around, as if he was looking for something.

you stayed in bed, waiting for him to do something. if he really was a kidnapper, you would hit him with the book. there wasn’t much to steal here- it was practically a library, so you didn’t mind if he stole anything, really. you started to calm down until his figure crept up to the foot of your bed. oh, this ruffian is really asking for it. you thought to yourself, mentally smirking and applauding his bravery. as soon as you saw his face being illuminated due to your night lamp, you halted.

“ah! you were here!” the boy exclaimed, scurrying away from your bed. you raised a brow, confused. what in god’s name was he looking for that he didn’t deduce that there might be a person in the room? “may i help you?” despite the strange boy dressed in odd clothing literally breaking an entry in your humble abode, you spoke in a polite manner out of habit. the white haired boy looked up, his garnet red eyes pierced through you, causing you to get lost in the shining orbs.

shaking your head, you furrowed your eyebrows and casted a glare towards him, “i asked, may i help you?” you repeated, this time in a more threatening tone. the boy gulped at your sudden change of attitude and stood up straight, clearing his throat, “you don’t know me?” you mentally rolled your eyes. “this is preposterous. i wouldn’t associate myself with someone that would enter people’s bedrooms without permission! you’re basically trespassing!” you scolded the young boy, in spite of the fact that he might be about your age if he were a tad taller.

“mm, i see. you’re one of the few who haven’t heard of me,” the boy deduced proudly. you inwardly sigh, awaiting his excuse of why he was in your bedroom in the first place and how he even got to the top floor without the use of a rope or a ladder. you were, in fact, at least curious to hear how. “my name’s kalim! kalim al-asim. and you?” you frowned and crossed your arms, “y/n. y/n l/n.” you deadpanned. kalim flinched at your uninterested yet stern tone and nervously whistled comically. “aha,” he started, “you see, i’m looking for my shadow! its been escaping my clutches recently and i have trouble finding it.” kalim sighed, scratching the back of his neck at the thought that he could’ve had the wrong house- again.

you were bewildered, to say the least. what a ludicrous story. “i don’t believe you.” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose due to annoyance. kalim bit his lower lip, full of pride. “but i am telling the truth! maybe it’s because you’re a grown up that you don’t get it.” okay, now you were offended. did you look old for your age? must be the eye bags, you thought to yourself but brushed off the offensive statement coming from this boy’s mouth and glared daggers at him. “fine, fine. perhaps you had gotten the wrong address? there are thousands of locations where your ‘shadow’ could be lingering around in london.” you suggested, sarcasm dripping from your voice when you said the word “shadow.”

kalim stared at you for a solid minute before turning his attention to the bookshelf near your door. you raised an eyebrow at the area he was focused on and flinched when he jumped towards your bookshelf, knocking all the pieces of literature down as well as its container. you bit your lip upon the shelf making a loud sound, possibly waking everyone up. “kalim!” you hissed silently as he strangled a black figure. your eyes widened. my word, he was telling the truth... your mouth opened from shock, eyes not believing what they were seeing.

“i told you, miss! my shadow must be here!” kalim stated proudly as he proceeded to continue strangling the strange, black form. you got out of bed and walked up to kalim, staring at the shadow in awe. how peculiar it was, the shadow being separated from its beholder. “how are you gonna put it back on?” you asked kalim, your eyes not removing its glance from the shadow. kalim thought for a moment, “soap?” you broke your gaze and stared at kalim strangely. did anybody teach this boy some logic?

sighing, you motioned kalim to sit on your bed while you look for your sewing kit. you hate to admit it, but your sewing skills weren’t as praised as your sister. they said that she had talent while you had the looks but you weren’t sure how to feel about that. brushing off the negative thoughts, you grabbed kalim’s shadow by the foot and started to sew it beneath kalim’s shoes, which were surprisingly barely dirty. did this guy use new pairs of shoes?

after sewing the shadow back on, you huffed and stood up, admiring your work. kalim grinned from ear to ear and jumped up, which caused him to float a bit in your room. you could not believe this. how is this even possible?! kalim is flying. flying in your very room with no strings attached- literally.

“thank you, miss!” kalim laughed, still flying around your room in joy. you sigh before crawling back to your bed and underneath the warm covers. kalim noticed how you weren’t as happy and flew above you. “what’s wrong, miss?” kalim asked, his eyes gleamed with concern. it has been years since you saw eyes that contained genuine concern for you. “nothing. shouldn’t you be going along your merry way?” you asked, voice muffled to kalim due to the covers. kalim hummed before shaking you and pointing to your knocked over bookshelf. “what about it? are you going to clean it up?” kalim gasped and shook his head, “cleaning is for grown ups! i was going to ask about the books you read!”

you were confused. no one was ever interested in you nor what you read. it felt... refreshing to say the least. you glanced tiredly at the scattered books on your wooden floor and sighed. “do you want me to lend you some? i don’t really mind if we don’t meet again and you never return it.” you let out a sigh as you escape the warmth of your bed and walked to the books, picking up some stories that kalim might find interesting, despite his knowledge that, you believed, didn’t exist. no offense.

“hm, i suppose this book might be to your liking? oh, and this too,” before you knew it, you were carrying a stack of possibly five books and handed it over to kalim. they were all fairytales that you read when you were a child and you only ever read the said books whenever you had nothing else to do. they were short lived entertainment. kalim’s eyes practically sparkled when he saw the covers of the books. they were pretty appealing to the eyes of children- not that kalim was one but he sure acted like a child.

“thank you so much, miss! i’ll read this to the lost boys and return it!” kalim giggled before grabbing them from your arms and flying upwards. “you do know that you can just call me y/n, right? we’re practically the same age.” you stated, trying to get through to kalim. miss was too formal and you weren’t used to it at all. kalim raised an eyebrow, “hm, yes we may be the same age but you act like an adult. you’re too mature, which is why i think its more appropriate if i call you miss!” preposterous. absolutely preposterous. were you that serious? you always were told that you were more mature than your sister.

“that speaks for you as well, though!” you spoke, defensive. you didn’t even know why you were arguing with kalim at this point. it was all child’s play. kalim watched with sparkling orbs as you tried to defend your statement. “how so?” kalim urged, trying to get you to break out of your shell. you flinched. was this boy even thinking straight? “you said we’re the same age, yet you act like a mere six-year-old!” you silently yelled, taking note of your family still asleep. “are you still mature for your age miss? you just uselessly argued with me over an immature topic.” you bit the inside of your cheek before sighing. although, that statement was the most mature thing that came out of kalim’s mouth since the moment he met you. “you should leave.” kalim laughed before nodding, “good night, miss! please continue to believe in me!” and with that being said, kalim hopped outside of your window and flew to god know’s where.

this must be a dream.

the next night, kalim came back (much to your surprise). you hate to admit it but you kind of missed him- despite the fact that he was annoying you last night. he kept his word and returned the next night to bring back the books you lended him. “miss, the lost boys love it!” kalim exclaimed, sitting comfortably on the edge of your bed. you were pretty confused as to who these lost boys were. “okay, tell me: who exactly are the lost boys?” you wanted answers. were they literally lost and kalim takes care of them? kalim blinked a few times before chuckling, “they’re boys who weren’t claimed by their parents,” kalim sighed, running a hand through his hair, “i took them to neverland so they could have a place to stay- i’m practically their parent!” kalim added, as though he was proud.

meanwhile, you were still confused. weren’t children who parents didn’t want sent to the orphanage? how did kalim come across them? surely he wasn’t targeting them from the moment they were born, right? letting out another tired sigh, you stared at kalim, “so, you take care of them?” kalim nodded excitedly, eager to talk more about the lost boys. “yes. but, hmm, they still need a mom,” kalim thought out loud. now you were cautious. was he referring to you? “oh, i got it! you can be the mom!” kalim announced, getting closer to you. you flinched, “what? why?” you asked as kalim giggled, “because you’re mature and you’re a girl, right?” the white haired boy tilted his head to the side. you sighed, “i’m not going to be a mother! we’re both seventeen-years-old! i’m too young!”

“in neverland, you can be whoever you want! you can be older there!” okay, was this guy actually a twenty-year-old in disguise? he’s using that tactic kidnappers use. “no. i’m not going anywhere.” it’s not like you can if you wanted to. you’re bound in this house by your parents. kalim whined like a child, “aw, fine,” he huffed, “how about giving me some more stories?” kalim looked at you with anticipation. you narrowed your gaze and darted your eyes towards the bookshelf that was neatly arranged, unlike the messy state it was in the previous night.

“wait, before that- i want to talk to you about the book i read.” okay, now you were interested. you wanted to see how this kid thought of the fairytales. since all that neverland talk was probably real, he most likely hasn’t had any children’s books. yes, you asked your parents about him and they told you stories. “hm, what about it?” you queried, not looking up from the novel you were reading. it’s not that you didn’t want to come off as rude, it’s just that you hated eye contact when participating in a conversation.

“well, in this one scene, the prince pressed his lips on the princess’ and she came back to life!” kalim explained, making exaggerated hand motions that you didn’t even want to see clearly. oh. oh dear lord. is he gonna ask you what’s a- “so i was thinking to myself, that word is called a ‘kiss’, right? can you show me?” you flinched and closed your book out of shock. this boy cannot be real, can he? how was he raised? “uh, i don’t think it’s appropriate for me to tell you...” you trailed off, voice getting quiet and face flushed from embarrassment. “eh? why not?” kalim whined, tugging on the sleeve of your night gown. “b-because only people who love each other get to k-kiss.” oh for pete’s sake, you scolded yourself. keep it together, y/n. you sound like a high school student being taught how babies were made.

“huh? but i love you, miss!” okay, now you were sure he wasn’t being serious. “no, you don’t. you’re just saying that.” you sighed, gently slapping both of your cheeks to calm them down. “i do! i’ll prove it to you if i liked that kiss!�� the way he was throwing the word kiss around made you even more embarrassed. you were considering kissing him on the cheek but that idea was thrown out of the window the more he mentioned the said word.

“fine, i’ll give you a kiss!” you hissed, turning your head away from him. “close your eyes first...” you mumbled, grabbing something from your drawer. kalim’s eyelids had been shut, a small smile playing on his soft looking lips as he waited for the “kiss.” you bit your lower lip and gently poked the pin cushion to his cheeks, face a bright red. “was that it?” kalim piqued up, sounding a little disappointed. he then opened his eyes and saw the pin cushion pressing his cheeks.

“what! miss, that wasn’t a kiss!” he complained. you laughed before withdrawing back your extended arm, “i told you- only people who love each other can kiss!” you explained, face still tinted with a blush. “hm, fine, but i’ll definitely make you love me!”

oh thank god, he finally understands. you let out a sigh of relief, taking his statement light heartedly. “i still want that kiss, miss...” kalim pouted, fiddling with his fingers. you sighed and ran a hand through your hair, pecking him quickly on the lips. wait- you were supposed to kiss him on the cheek only! kalim flinched at the contact and let out a hot breath which fanned your face as you pulled away. “... can you do that again?” kalim whispered, staring at your e/c orbs. his face illuminated by the warm light of the lamp. he was actually pretty tolerable in this state. “n-no, i’’m going to bed-”

kalim hastily grabbed you by the shoulders and kissed you again, but the kiss lasted longer than the last one. you squeezed your eyes shut, not knowing when he would stop as you were desperate for air. your face felt hot as kalim pulled away, a smile on his lips. “good night, miss. continue to believe in me.”

almost every night, kalim would come by your house. on this particular night, however, you needed him. you needed someone to talk to- someone who would listen. kalim immediately noticed how you weren’t your usual self who would playfully punch him or would flare up when he flirted with you. “what’s wrong, miss?” you two were on the roof top this time- you wanted to get away from all the problems for even just a short while and find comfort in the stars.

“nothing.” you said abruptly. you couldn’t tell him, no matter how much you wanted to. kalim noticed your tone. it wasn’t harsh. he decided to let the topic go and give you some more time. oh how considerate he was when it came to you. thats what you love about him. yes, i did say love. you harbored feelings for the magical teenager that trespassed in your bedroom the first time you met him. he had a charm that you longed for and that was how interested he was in what you had to say. he was a friend. a really good friend you never want to let go of nor lose.

“oh, are you thinking about the stars? well, let me tell you about neverland.” ah neverland, another one of kalim’s stories that you’ve been interested in ever since he mentioned it. he only ever told you about what’s inside neverland and the people inhabiting that world. kalim scooted next to you and extended his arm to a very noticeably bigger star. “see that star over there? look at the second one to the right.” kalim stated as you followed to where his finger was pointing towards.

“that one? what about it?” you asked, hugging your blankets closer to you. “that’s where neverland is! it’s pretty near, i can take you there if you want to.” kalim suggested. you wanted to go to neverland with him. maybe if you do, you’ll be able to escape these problems of yours. maybe you don’t have responsibility there. maybe you’ll even have an actual caring family. the thought made you tear up but you quickly wiped the droplets that escaped your eyes.

“i-i can’t go. sorry,” you always refuse his offer and he always smiled and nodded, understanding your decision. but this time he frowned. he didn’t ask why you didn’t want to go and you loved him for that but the look he was giving you right now asked the said question. the pleading look in his eyes, how they were glossy, how they looked like they were about to spill tears at any given moment.

“h-hah... you can tell me, you know? i don’t like seeing you sad.” perhaps it was time you do open up to him. you know a lot about him but he barely knows anything about you other than your age, name, address and your love for books. maybe if you tell him then perhaps things would change. you inhaled the fresh air of london and turned to face kalim (who you noted was inches apart from you). this sudden closeness reminded you of when you two first kissed- you were still pretty embarrassed about that.

“i’m getting married,” you whispered, though kalim heard it crystal clear. “why...? don’t you... love me?” his voice cracked as he went closer to you. yes, you do love him. you love him more than anyone on this miserable planet. you loved him to death. you would do anything to get to be with him as cheesy as it sounds. “i do,” you began, a cloud formed due to you talking, “but it wasn’t my decision.”

your parents were marrying you off to some guy you don’t even know. you’ve never met him. you don’t even know his name! tears rolled down your cheeks as you awaited kalim’s response. the white haired male was stunned and shocked. he didn’t know how to respond. what should he say anyway? god, he should’ve asked the mermaids for help about this sort of thing. “why are you marrying him if you don’t even love him?! that shouldn’t be allowed!” kalim clenched his fists and shook violently both from frustration and sorrow. he can’t lose you. not yet. not ever.

this is why i hate grown ups... kalim thought to himself.

“i don’t want to, kalim. i swear i don’t love him but i have no choice...” kalim gulped and bit his lower lip to prevent himself from crying although it proved to be useless as he felt hot tears stream down his face. you lifted his chin up so you could get one last good look of him. the last day. this is the last day you’ll be seeing each other...

“y/n...” kalim’s voice cracked once again. the way he said your name in such a tone made you cry. you hated this. why must the world be cruel? why did you take his presence and existence for granted? it was the first time kalim ever called you by your name. kalim grabbed your hand and intertwined it with his. “y/n, i don’t have much time,” he whispered, grabbing both of your hands tightly, afraid he will lose you. “w-what do you mean?” you asked, frantic. what nonsense is he spouting now?

“kalim, this isn’t a funny joke. don’t say those kinds of th-”

“it isn’t a joke!” kalim growled but immediately looked up and softened his expression. “i’m-i’m going to disappear, y/n.” you flinched at this claim. how? is this why he always said to believe in him every time he leaves for neverland? you always believed in him? did you not try hard enough? “why? i always believed in you...” you said in a soft tone, not taking your eyes off of his red orbs.

“you did great but... apparently not everyone does. i’m just someone who was made because people created stories about me. i’m not actually a person, y/n. that’s why my life depends on people’s belief in me.” he explained, his figure slowly dissipating into nothing. more tears streamed down your face. “n-no...” you whispered.

“but hey, listen to me,” kalim started, a smile still playing on his lips as if to reassure you and to stop you from crying. you were attentive. you’re never going to forget how this boy had become your one and only friend. “remember the second star to the right. remember it with all your heart. if you do, something good will be brought upon you, i promise.” you bit your lips, closing your eyes shut. you couldn’t take this anymore.

“good night, miss. continue to believe in me.” kalim whispered, the feeling of his lips connecting to yours once more. it was a bittersweet kiss you longed for. you didn’t want it to end and before you knew it, the feeling of warmth disappeared from your lips and felt as if a part of something was taken from you.

he’s gone. the only person who made me feel alive and wanted... is gone.

“heave-ho!” you flinched at the voice. what on earth? were you hallucinating? “kalim, was that you?” you asked the white haired male as you nudged him. kalim looked up at you, “hm? oh, yeah it was me! i heard it from a dream, didn’t really think it would surprise you.” he stated as you continued to snuggle in his arms. warm. you thought to yourself.

“why did you dream of that old phrase/ i haven’t heard it since i was a child,” you chuckled and closed your eyes, feeling drowsy. the moon illuminated the outlines of your face that kalim took his sweet time to admire. he missed you. th moment he saw you enter night raven college. he felt a familiar feeling in his chest.

“good night, miss. continue to believe in me.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

a/n: sobbing dhmu. im crying bc of my own fic FUCK

#kalim al asim x reader #kalim al asim #twisted wonderland kalim al asim #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #kalim x reader #x reader #twst imagines #twst kalim al asim #twst angst #twst fanfic #twst #female reader #angst #peter pan au #peter pan #HAPPY ANGST

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evelinamox · 4 years

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Speak Your Truth

Quick note: I am trying to practice writing faster and with less detail so to try avoiding taking a week to share one piece. Let me know what you guys think of this compared to any of my older works.

For my lovelies that helped by voting or even supported the idea from the start @xstrawberry-fizzx @cigarettebreath666 @fellulahh @hornsandtales @leviathanru @majolishious @needyounow-love @otromeru @you-aremy-paradise

🍷🎉🍷🎉🍷🎉🍷🎉🍷🎉🍷🎉🍷🎉🍷🎉

Solomon had a idea to have a party with everyone in The House of Lamentation. Rightfully so everyone was pretty suspicious of the idea except for Asmo.. or perhaps Asmo's love for a good time blinded him from the suspicious request.

It took less than a day for Asmo to have everyone on board, create plans, and even pick out party snacks with a spiked punch bowl.

Being a simple house party most everyone went casual, except Asmo of course who wore the chicest outfit he could pull together between planning and implementing.

There was music, some casual hanging around, drinking, even Simeon and Luke came, though Luke obviously would've sooner tried eating Solomon's food before actually spending time around so many demons. Asmo did make sure to set aside some more suitable drinks for the young-un.

"Yo MC!" Mammon shouted while sauntering up to MC, his face blush from the drinks. He sloppily threw a arm over MCs arm, giving a cheesy smile. "I have a idea for ya, but ya need to meet me outside, aight?"

MC caught off guard by Mammon's actions blushed as his face got closer while his cocky smirk got bigger. "Uh. Yeah sure." MC said while ducking out from under his heavy arm, causing him to stumble forward a bit.

Mammon then stepped off pretending he was unfazed, then tried to sneak out without Asmo noticing.

As MC waited for the ten minutes to pass she spotted Asmo tugging at Lucifers arm, trying to get him to dance, and Lucifer looked two seconds away from strangling the younger brother.

Taking the opportunity MC left and met Mammon whom was chilling with a glass in one hand and a cigarette in another. Once he spotted MC he stomped out the cigarette and placed his drink on a fence post. "MC! Glad ya accepted my invite! Why would ya turn down some alone time with The Great Mammon though!" He laughed a bit obnoxiously, but his slightly slurred speech sounded funny enough that it earned a laugh.

"Woah, you've partied waaay harder than I have." MC teased, grabbing his drink from him then having a sip. "What'd ya need me out here for?"

Mammon pulled MC close by the hip then rested there to hold them in place. "That Solomon guy has been makin eyes at ya. I'm yer first guy, and I say he doesn't get to do that!"

MC burst out laughing at his claim. "Is that so? What's your plan to stop him? Take his eyes?"

A devilish smirk spread across his face at the idea, but instead he brought his face closer. "Can do that next, for now I wanna see what ya taste like."

"Wait, wh-!" Before the question could be finished, his lips crashed into MCs in a hasty manner.

He wasted no time for his tongue to push through, meeting and intertwining with MCs.

The taste cigarettes and punch never tasted so good.

Seeing he wasn't rejected, the liquid courage already pushing Mammon became even bolder. Grabbing MC by the ass he picked them up and sat them on the fence to have them closer to level. The change in height caused MC to rap their legs around him, and pushing deeper into the kiss.

Mammon pulled back for air, then instead trailed kisses down till his mouth met a obvious spot on MCs throat, then began sucking while tantalizing the skin with his tongue.

MC let out a small moan, but after a moment started lightly pushing Mammon away. "Can we continue later? Someone must've noticed our absence by now."

Though he would've usually been disappointed, Mammon beamed down at the love-bite he left on MC. "I did what I wanted to, sweet cheeks. But ya already offered to do more later. Ya can't take it back, got it!"

"Course not, I'll meet you inside." MC smirked at him before going back inside.

Upon sneaking back inside MC noticed almost everyone was enjoying the festivities. Everyone except the other human Solomon, whom looked amused seeing the state MC was now in.

Solomon strode to clear the distance until he was casually standing next to MC but looking out at the group. "Seems everyone is having fun, even you." He poked fun.

"Not everyone, Luke looks like he's rather die." MC deflected while doing a nod in Luke's direction. Poor kid was obviously angry, not that it was really an environment for a kid anyways.

His eyes fell upon Mammon not-so-stealthily sneaking back in from the other side of the room, gaining the attention of Lucifer. "He'll be gone before the next event starts, then everyone will be having fun."

Solomon then left with those words hanging in the air, he made his way to the angel.

Every time he talked with MC he tend to leave more unanswered questions than anything else.

Shortly after Luke was gone, a strange feeling best described as a tingling sensation overcame everyone in the room, except for one smirking Solomon in the corner of the room, slowly turning the music down.

First one to give into the compelling urge to admit to something was Belphie. Rubbing his eye before standing from his seat he was resting on. He let out a yawn before giving a devious smile. "I once snuck into Lucifers room to sleep in his bed. I didn't like it but I wanted to leave my scent in his room to piss him off!." The room was filled with chuckles as everyone including Simeon was laughing. The only one not laughing was Lucifer.

Lucifer opened his mouth, about to reprimand his brother when suddenly the spell took over, causing him to admit to his own secret. "Diavolo gave me a unicorn after that sticker was created, and he has pictures of me riding it."

As soon as the sentence ended Lucifer was so pale he may as well have been a ghost. In a fit of rage and embarrassment he took to his demon form and took off before the guests could comprehend what he just said.

Almost in unison the whole party erupted in laughter. Satan was clutching his sides from laughing so hard, Mammon was howling, Belphie crying, Levi literally rolling on the floor.

When the eruption finally died back down, it became Levi couldn't hold it in any longer. "If you guys knew what I've done to some of my figurines..."

Satan quickly cut in before Levi could add in any detail. "Oh we know, we just don't want to address a disgusting disaster like that."

"I don't get it.." MC confessed, earning a concerned look from everyone, especially a disgusted Simeon.

"Because I love ya, yer best off not knowin!" Mammon attempted you assure MC on the subject.

Everyone gasped and MC looked down in embarrassment while Mammon covered his mouth.

Just as everyone was about to lay in on Mammon and make him regret his forced admission, it was unexpectedly Beelzebubs turn to divulge a untold event. A look of disappointment plaguing his face. "I almost ate a thong that was hidden in my spaghetti. I didn't know it was there till I choked on it."

Most of the people present were snickering at the information except for Belphie whom looked genuinely concerned for his twin, and Mammon who still was recovering from his confession was now fighting the need to admit something new.

Quickly losing to the urge, Mammon couldn't hold in a secret. "I was the one that put it there!" He yelled, looking as though he felt physical relief from giving in.

"Don't tell me.." Asmo gasped, a hand on his chest in shock. "I've been missing one of my trophies but I thought one of my other lovers took it out of jealousy!"

"So that's why I saw him shoving something in his pocket while leaving your room!" MC quickly added.

Asmo looked MC up and down, clapping his hands together, ready for some gossip. "Though I want them back, I want to know more about you darling! Especially about WHO left that mark on you, and why it wasn't me!"

MC's eyes grew wide at the question. There was a sudden ball of magic pushing into their back as though pressuring to answer honestly. "Mammon did!"

"Oh honey! You're kidding!" He laughed while playfully slapping at MCs arm, "Really, who did it!"

"It really was Mammon! And I'm planning to do more with him tonight!" MC gasped along with everyone else.

Panicking MC grabbed their head and yelled "Make it stop! This is so not fair!"

End note:

Satan knew early on that it was a truth spell Solomon must've used as it had similar effects to when he tried using it on Lucifer years ago. People weren't happy to find out he was immune to it because he performed it before.

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chaoticnerdreview · 4 years

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Dare Me 08: Round And Around We Go

Memories seems to be the recurring theme of Dare Me. How they change depending on where you stand in different periods of time. How they lie depending on your feelings - or lack thereof - towards the person. And how they can be activated. By smell. By sight. And most importantly... By touch.

This story, the relationship between two best friends and how it contaminates every part of their lives, is a memory to a lot of us. Me included. And while watching the show can be cathartic, in a strange way of giving us closure, it also brings back our own memories. Of what happened to us and of what, by lack of courage or confusion, didn’t.

The worst part about memories, the one that no one tells you about, is how sometimes you bury them. Not because they hurt you or because you want to forget them, it just happens. Like an old cassette, you record new things on top of the ones that were already there. But one day, when you least expect, you watch the cassette till the end and there they are. Your old memories. Vibrant. Screaming colour. Making your head spin.

Bellow, we will dive deeper into the merry-go-round of memories and how they intertwine with the present, in ways that no one can foresee.

(gif by the lovely @challengerblue )

Of course we can’t talk about this episode without addressing the elephant in the room and we’ll do it right off the bat, like a band-aid: Will is dead. Was it a suicide? Was he murdered? Is Colette telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth? Or is she guilty from her bare feet to the tip of her wet curls? And, the question on everyone’s heads, why did she drag Addy along with her? Because she’s the only one she can trust? Or because Addy is the only one who is walking on her broken veneer but hasn’t seen past the cracks yet?

So many questions and, while I know the answers from the book, we’re not doing that, are we? We’re not cheating out way through this. So you and I will sit, and wait, and see. How far this will go. How long our questions will remain unanswered. How long will we stay in the dark and when will we finally see the light. Soon enough, I hope. For truth sake.

Now with that out of the way;

COLETTE FRENCH AKA THE NEW MEMORY:

Kids, the lesson we learn with our blonde central piece is that not everything that shines is gold. Sometimes, that person who stands over everyone else, like their pedestal is celestial and we’re all unworthy of their time, sometimes that person is bad. Take an apple, for example. You want them to be crisp, or juicy, or however you like them. But you want them to be as good as they look outside. And sometimes, the ones that look the best, sometimes you cut them open and they’re rotten inside. Or they have a worm. Or the taste is just.. Not it.

That’s Colette French for you. Episode after episode, the apple of our sees her center be revealed. And it’s crisp. Or juicy. Or however we like it to be. It’s completely rotten and the only one who hasn’t seen it yet is Addy. Because she has never tasted apples before, how could she possibly know that this one that didn’t fell far from the tree, this one that returned to her roots, this one is rotten?

Colette holds all her cards against her chest and knows exactly what her next move is. Despite how broken she might be, how much she can crumble in the bedroom floor and ask to be embraced, she knows exactly what she will do next. She knows which mask to put on every morning. She knows how to bleach shoes. She knows everything. Except that when you give someone something rotten, they get sick.

And die.

BETH CASSIDY AKA THE OLD MEMORY:

You know that feeling you get when someone is slipping away from you. That suffocating feeling of knowing you’re not enough anymore and you try everything you possibly can to stay under their radar, to stay right under their nose, and yet they don’t see you. That feeling that you’re being overwritten, forgotten, cast aside.

That’s Beth Cassidy for you. She’s the unforgivable, the unforgettable, the unreachable. She’s the always there, the norm, the regular. She is everything until she’s not. And trust me, it’s not her fault. It’s not that she isn’t enough anymore. It’s not that she isn’t. It’s just the way things are. On the roundabout of life, the faster you go, the less you see. And the hands that safely push it around for you, they’re the first ones to disappear in the visual illusion of how it spins. Yet, the hands are still there, making it go around for you. Only you. Because you asked them to.

There is nothing Beth won’t do for Addy. She gave her her first real kiss. She gave her her protection charm. She gave her her heart. And now she’s giving her the only thing that’s left to give: space. In hopes that maybe, just maybe, Addy will remember. Maybe, just maybe, Addy will reach for the hands that are spinning the roundabout and ask them to stop. Maybe, just maybe, she hasn’t been forgotten. Maybe, just maybe, she’s just too under Addy’s nose for her to see.

Maybe, just maybe.

ADDY HANLON AKA THE BROKEN CASSETTE:

According to church, the reason men have that lump on their throats called Adam’s Apple is because Adam tasted the apple the snake told Eve to try and that God had explicitly forbidden. This is, perhaps, the first story about how a rotten apple left a sour memory for many years to come. There’s also Snow White, for example. And the list goes on. All because someone decided to try an apple that looked delicious on the outside but turned out to be rotten in the end.

That’s Addy Hanlon for you. Simple girl with simple dreams, memories for days and days she doesn’t want to memorise. She’s always in need of someone to light the way, to show her how, to tell her it’s okay to want things. And sometimes, more often than not, she gets blinded by the light in front of her. Sometimes, she chases the light until the very edge of the abyss and, when she notices where she stands, it’s already too late. Her shoes are already half on the other side. And she’s going to fall into the deep end.

On the other hand, if Beth’s memories are activated by sound and Colette’s by sight, Addy’s are, most definitely, by touch. Everything her hands can touch becomes engraved in her endless library of cassette’s. And she has touches of all kinds. Full collections even, labelled with different colours. But there was a new touch. An apple. Something she had never touched but, somehow, felt familiar. And took her places. Made her spin under the rain. And reminded her of another touch. The one that didn’t leave a lump in her throat. Turns out she had had apples before.

Just not rotten.

#dare me #colette french #addy hanlon #beth cassidy

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annabethbreakstherules · 4 years

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OUAT and why “mystery box” narratives are doomed to fail

Once Upon a Time premiered on Oct 23, 2011 to 12.9 million viewers and fairly positive reviews from critics who praised the performances of the main cast, the surprisingly complex and interesting takes on storybook characters, and the impressive special effects. This quote from the Wikipedia page essentially summarized what was so compelling about the show (and hints at ultimately why it failed):

“‘Rick Porter gave the pilot praise for bringing together the central theme, saying "No other new show this fall is attempting to tell a bigger story, and we're hoping the rough patches smooth out and it fulfills the potential that's there in its very strong cast and premise.’”

Once wasn’t unique for its fairytale remixes, which was also being done concurrently for a time on NBC’s Grimm, but for it’s intrigue and mystery. Emma Swan is pulled into the uncanny world of Storybrooke and into a scheme much bigger and more complicated than she could imagine.

Premiering a year after the controversial Lost finale, OUAT was propped up as the next project from Lost producers Edward Kitsis and Adam Horowitz, promising a series built on unknowns and mysteries that unravel as time goes on. The first season utilizes the Enchanted Forest to give the audience hints and clues that line up with discoveries Emma makes in the town in the real world. It’s laden with pockets of missing information that get revisited and stories told out of order to better serve the overall narrative. It works. The first season was critically and commercially successful, pulling audiences in the 12-9 million range in the Sunday night slot. However, as time went on and the show unfolded, things changed and the show declined in viewership and quality. A lot of the qualms with the latter season of the show stem from the fact that from the second half of season 3 onward it essentially became a weekly hour long commercial for Disney properties, with the recent or upcoming films and their characters being woven into the story. Certainly this is likely true as the show originally so compelling for its unique take on characters that challenged their pervasive PG interpretations but also didn’t simply turn to the original Brother’s Grimm tales. However, this shift is storytelling is a side effect of the larger problem the show faced that it failed to overcome, ultimately ensuring its eventual downfall.

OUAT was sold as a mystery box show, but it ended as your average villain of the season supernatural/fantasy show bogged down by Disney and recycled plots. No matter what direction this show took, because of the original premise being rooted in a mystery box plot, like the previous project the show runners worked on, it was bound to come in contact with narrative problems.

Part 1: The JJ Abrams and the Lost finale of it all

What exactly is a “mystery box”? Here is a link to a TedTalk where Abrams himself describes the concept: https://www.ted.com/talks/j_j_abrams_the_mystery_box?language=en

Essentially, he breaks down the power of mystery and specifically how his conception of mysteries and the unknown as opportunities for incredible feats of human imagination factored into the creation of Lost, where the first two episodes, which he wrote and shot with Damon Lindelof in the span of 11 weeks and set up a bunch of questions that end up driving the plot of the subsequent episodes and seasons. In his TedTalk, Abrams talks about how mystery boxes stand in for unknowns that when revealed, often lead to much broader and deeper truths that speak to things bigger than the narrative itself. This was supposedly the idea behind Lost.

However, this didn’t end up being the reality. Abrams exited the show in the third season and (allegedly) pretty much left the new showrunners and writers room with little idea of what was inside the mystery box he’d set up. Thus, it was up to people who didn’t create the show to guide it through three more seasons and attempt to land a satisfying ending. The details of the finale aren’t important, what matter is that it came with a lot of controversy. Fans found it confusing or unsatisfying and felt it ultimately failed to provide good answers to the questions it set up. While not relevant to this story, Abram’s handling of the Star Wars sequel trilogy suggest a pattern of setting up a mystery box he doesn’t intend to answer himself (and then fumbling when he attempts to solve the equations he wrote).

Opinions on the finale have changed over time, but in 2011, just a year after the show had concluded, ABC and Kitsis and Horowitz were very aware of the precarious view many people had of the show’s conclusion. With OUAT, ABC was clearly trying to recapture the magic of Lost, where the television mystery became a massive phenomenon as people wrote think pieces and articles, tuned in every week for more clues, and talked about their theories online. They wanted another show that would keep people guessing and, therefore, encourage them to discuss it publicly and drum up more interest. However, they knew they couldn’t afford to fumble the bag this time and risk alienating people who were unsatisfied with Lost, but had enough good faith to give the show a chance. Kitsis and Horowitz saddled themselves with this task, despite likely having no real idea how to best address the problems Lost had. The concept of “the mystery box” was championed by Abrams and he had yet to really prove a mastery over the thing he created. This motivated the decision making behind the structure of the show for better or for worse.

Part 2: Looking inside the box too soon

Lost was built on the question of what exactly was going on with the island and whether or not the people on it could escape. OUAT was built on the question of what was going on in Storybrooke and what it had to do with Henry’s book of fairytales. The Enchanted Forest identities of Storybrooke citizens, who cast the curse, and how to break it were shrouded in mystery and slowly revealed through flashbacks and Emma’s own investigation. It was pretty compelling TV that provided a few good gasp worthy reveals over the course of the season. It all built towards the final reveal that Emma was the Savior, the fabled hero of the Enchanted Forest, the daughter of Snow and Charming, and that True Love’s Kiss is the way to break the curse. The curse is lifted and everyone regains their memories. The mystery is solved. And therein lies the problem.

The entire marketing campaign around the show either capitalized on the fairy tale aspect of the show or the mystery, usually both. Every episode trailer was about what information the flashbacks would reveal next, what new characters we might meet, what we might learn about characters we already knew, and what Emma and Henry would learn about Storybrooke itself. The genre of the first season of the show is obviously a mystery and a good one with several branches that, while connected, all had their own unique and complex answers or causes. The majority of these questions were answered in the season finale, which seemed an odd move from the network and producers who brought audiences the six season long Lost, where even in the finale things were left unanswered.

It’s clear ABC and the showrunners wanted to capitalize on the success of the show while also trying to rectify the problems that had plagued it. One of the reasons the finale to Lost was likely going to be unsatisfying to many no matter what it contained, was that the show had simply been on for long and there was so much speculation and hype about how it would end that there was no way anything they could write would live up to fan expectations. Additionally, over the course of six season, plot holes began to build up that one two-part finale could never hope to make sense of. That’s the burden of putting long narrative mysteries on TV, they’re hard to land. This is why we’ve seen many shows that revolved around mysteries or crimes turn to the anthology format where every season poses a new question that is solved in a limited amount of episodes. This was likely the intent behind “looking inside the mystery box” at the end of OUAT’s first season; it was better to present a coherent and condensed mystery narrative than drag it out and risk creating a mountain of contradictions. This isn’t a terrible call, especially because Kitsis and Horowitz and their writers delivered on the promises they set up and presented great characters. It was a great set of 22 episodes. Had the show ended after 1 season, there would be little to talk about, it might even be regarded as one of the most competent mystery shows ever to air on a major network. However, the problem doesn’t lie in the first season, but what comes after it.

Part 3: What happens now?

OUAT managed to pull off a feat that should not have been possible considering the circumstances. After solving most of the mysteries that drove the plot and made the show interesting in season 1, they somehow managed to pull of a second season that didn’t drastically decrease in quality. In fact, on Rotten Tomatoes, season 2 has the highest critic and audience scores. The team behind the show had left just one stone unturned in the final episode of season one: what was the ultimate fate of the Enchanted Forest after the curse?

The dual settings of the storybook land and the town had never collided. The showrunners took advantage of this and capitalized on the new dynamic of Emma going to the Enchanted Forest. Suddenly, in addition to the flashbacks that continued to flesh out recurring and new characters and the going-ons of Storybrooke, Emma’s adventures in the present of the Enchanted Forest became a third arm to the narrative. The show was still pretty exciting and had some fun twists and turns, but it was fundamentally different. It was no longer about small town social politics, intrigue, and putting together the pieces of a past in a magical world that how somehow leaked into reality. While the show had always been based in fantasy, the mystery kept it grounded. The second season launched it full speed into the fantastical and committed itself to being a strictly fantasy show. Regina remained a prominent antagonist, but the new villain was her mother, Cora, who became the first in a long series of villains who stayed around for a half to a whole season before either being defeated or fading into the shadow of a new big bad. There was no longer a larger ultimate goal the show was heading towards as it had been in its first season. The show’s identity had completely changed and this created a lot of problems.

Part 4: A wuick summary of the decline

The first season was fairly streamlined with each episode serving a clear purpose in pushing the mystery forward, with the new goal being to simply defeat the new bad guy, filler episodes began to crop up with some frequency as the writers tried to shoehorn in as many fairy tale characters as they possibly could. The flashbacks also began to double back. In order to line up with the new big bad narratives each season, the backstories of many characters had things retroactively inserted into them that didn’t really line up with what the audience already knew of the characters.

The writers also kept trying to chase the magic of the first season, introducing new curse after new curse and continually undoing Regina’s character development to keep her as a constant antagonist. The show had nowhere to go, so the writers began throwing things at the wall and seeing what stuck. There was time travel and rewriting the past, there were other fantasy worlds where characters from other public domain stories that weren’t traditional fairy tales lived. The show ultimately did a soft reboot and basically recreated the storyline of the first season in the final season with Henry taking up Emma’s mantle of main investigator. And it was all...pretty lackluster.

However, the biggest downfall of the show came in season 4. Season 3b had seen the writers managed to weave in Oz, which was featured because of the upcoming Disney flop Oz the Great and Powerful, and create a moderately interesting character and plot through the introduction of Zelena. This seemed to embolden them, because, whether forced by ABC and Disney execs or inspired by the massive commercial success of the film, a Frozen plotline was introduced. This wouldn’t have been too terrible had they not ripped the character designs and stories directly from the film itself. With Oz they’d put their own spin on the world, but Elsa and Anna received no such treatment. They were simply carbon copies of their film counterparts, which felt wildly out of place in a world where Peter Pan was Rumplestiltkin’s father and Prince Charming had an evil twin brother. Viewership began to decline in earnest over the fourth season, yet the writers never really learned their lesson, with most new introductions to the show being fairly similar to their previous appearances in films.

The show had the benefit of continued good performances and the foundations of good characters. They also chose not to introduce a true love interest for Emma until the second season and didn’t begin to develop their relationship until the third. Their continued success hinged fairly squarely on the shoulders of shippers who cared more about Captain Swan than the actual narrative of the show.

The turn to weak season to season plots was ultimately what hurt OUAT as the writers clearly ran out of viable ideas long before the show ended. This turn was ultimately necessitated when the show continued to be renewed despite having fulfilled its premise so early on.

Part 5: Conclusion and the future fate of “mystery box” shows

Lost was fresh and unique and exciting when it premiered; there was really nothing else like it on TV. The desire to recapture what Lost did continues to this day (see NBC’s Manifest feat. OUAT alum Josh Dallas). However, should Lost be something writers try to recreate? The show had mass popularity, but the finale can routinely be found on lists of worst TV finales or TV finales that ruined shows along with the likes of Dexter and Game of Thrones. Lost ultimately failed to deliver on its promises. Some fans may enjoy the ending now or have come to understand it after rewatching the show a few times, but its still pretty controversial, enough so that pretty much every anniversary of the finale is marked by interviews with the cast and crew and articles about whether the ending worked or not. A successful mystery story shouldn’t leave audiences wondering if the mystery was actually solved.

OUAT certainly doesn’t have the fanfare surrounding it as its predecessor. The show croaked to a finish in 2018 with a fraction of the viewership it had in its first season. OUAT had a really strong first season, proving that mystery box narratives can work in an episodic structure and come to a satisfying end. However, the problem was that the show continued on past that, shedding its mystery identity for a time and then desperately trying to go back to it when things began to turn.

The show pretty strongly supports the thesis that mystery box shows might only work for one season. If stretched for too many seasons they either become extremely convoluted and impossible solve in a way that the audience will understand and enjoy or eventually have to solve the mystery and shift to a new structure to stay fresh (see Westworld which somehow manages to do both). Anthology mystery shows seem to have the right idea. However, what OUAT proved is that when a mystery box has a planned answer, they make for good television with satisfying payoff.

This isn’t to say OUAT couldn’t have continued on extending the mystery of the original curse into more seasons. I see a world where it could’ve occupied a majority of the second season, with more questions being raised. However, OUAT suffered under network and showrunner fears of repeating mistakes. Drawing out a mystery over multiple seasons hadn’t, so they shied away from that. The premise of OUAT was brilliant and interesting, capitalizing on past trends while also adding a the new element of fairy tales; this brilliant premise and strong mystery was ultimately its downfall. Like many shows that were once Tumblr darlings, OUAT has some of the best seasons of television early on, but now many former fans are embarrassed to have been associated with it. The puzzle was completed too soon, yet fans wanted more content. The result was lazy and lackluster storytelling that have greatly tarnished the initial success and genius of the show.

#I've been thinking about this for literal years I can't believe I finally wrote it #once upon a time #ouat #ouat meta #once upon a time meta #lost #meta #tv analysis #I'm gonna rewatch it huh.....#do not let this flop

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thelawyerthatwaspromised · 5 years

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Jon is Playing the Great Game. And the Great Game is Terrifying.

So Some Episode 1 thoughts. Will put it under the cut for those that haven’t gotten a chance to watch yet.

Jon’s behavior is basically the the central focus of episode 1. His choices are under the microscope, yes, but his reasoning is REALLY what we’re left to wonder about.

The North is very unwelcoming to Daenerys and company - something Jon knew and warned her would be the case. Yet she STILL seems very displeased...and also was irritatingly smug about her dragons terrifying the commoners at the start of the episode.

The “public forum” really illustrates a lot of this balancing act Jon has to manage. Ned Umber has absolutely no idea how to address Jon and Dany in particular. When Maester Walken calls Jon “Your Grace”, it triggers the heart of the discussion. Jon keeps saying titles are unimportant. Does he actually think they’re unimportant. Well, he made it abundantly clear to everyone that Sansa is the Lady of Winterfell...because she deserved it.

Jon’s saying titles are unimportant because he’s still trying to get the Queen of Titles to understand. There’s a subtext to when Ned Umber tries very hard to get the titles right, apologizes to Dany for not asking the “Queen” first, and Jon right after that saying that the titles don’t matter. If they DIDN’T matter, then he wouldn’t be pushing so hard for them to accept Dany as the Queen. What Jon’s saying is that HIS title doesn’t matter if keeping that title threatens his family.

Jon being King is dangerous at this point. And he circles back to needing allies over and over again.

Here’s the key line:

“I had a choice: Keep my crown or protect the North.”

That’s the beginning and the end of it, basically.

Why would keeping his crown prevent him from protecting the North? Well, the NK doesn’t care about crowns and titles. This is ENTIRELY centered around Dany. There’s no question anymore that Jon believes that Dany would still help him if he kept his crown. It’s INDISPUTABLE.

So Jon’s stuck. He’s stuck trying to get everyone to comply. It’s a desperate situation for him. The stakes are incredibly high. And the conclusion of that scene sums it up entirely.

“What do dragons eat anyway?” “Whatever the want.”

That’s the entire mindset that Jon fears.

Dany just doesn’t care what anyone thinks if she wants something. It echoes what Jon heard Jorah say on the way to the Dragonpit in last season’s finale.

The scene that evoked the most anger about with Jonsa/political!Jon/dark!Dany believers: Jon’s conversation with Arya.

Listen, Jon’s playing a dangerous game. And not everything he says is going to be the “right” thing. But there are some interesting notes for Jon making the quip about Sansa.

1) Jon knows Sansa is very smart;

2) Jon’s brain still goes to jello when he’s around Sansa;

3) His relationship dynamic with Sansa still confuses him;

4) He still has his inferiority complex;

5) This is the biggest one: it’s totally a parallel to being at Craster’s Keep with Jeor Mormont. Jon mouths off to Craster. It throws the whole mission into jeopardy. Jeor apologizes profusely to Craster. He takes Jon outside and berates him for it. Everything is about the bigger picture right now.

Would I have preferred if Jon’s POV was shown more clearly? Sure. But we had Arya defending Sansa. Sansa asking Jon if he loves her (which goes unanswered). But, hey, D&D amirite?

The last thing I think that really ties Jon’s emotional state all up is this: As soon as Sam tells Jon he is the heir ahead of Dany...HE’S TERRIFIED. BECAUSE IT MEANS TREASON.

IT’S ‘TREASON’ TO HAVE A CLAIM AHEAD OF HER!? IT’S ‘TREASON’ TO BE BORN AS HE WAS?

Why would Jon think this? Because he knows exactly who Daenerys Targaryen is...and he’s terrified of what it would mean for himself and for his family.

This whole entire episode is Jon trying to hold together this really uneasy alliance...and Dany growing increasingly irritated with every encounter she has with the Northerners. Then he hears something that could blow the whole thing up and it very clearly scares him.

Lastly, yeesh there was really ominous stuff here. At the end of that comically weird dragon riding scene - we get Drogon staring down Jon. It was...very interesting.

#political jon theory #jonsa #dark!dany #jon x sansa #tltwp meta #s8 spoilers #spoilers

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hajimesh · 5 years

Text

lokasenna pt. 17

word count: 2k

pairing: jötunn!loki x healer!reader

summary: the council wants answers after what happened and loki has had enough.

a/n: one more to go! sorry for the delay, i have been pretty busy bc of uni. masterlist can be found in my bio :)

- Sautján -

After Loki unlocked the gates, a horde of guards, Lords and some council members swarmed into the room.

The first thing they noticed was the lifeless body of Angrboda lying on the floor, surrounded by a poodle of her blood and her eyes still open.

“What happened here!?” One of the Lords asked but his question remained unanswered.

Loki’s face grew stoic as he addressed everyone in the room. “Let the rest of the council know an emergency meeting will be held in five minutes.”

Most of the Lords, who knew they couldn’t attend, grumbled under their breaths before leaving the throne room as the guards took the body out of the room, your eyes focused on the corpse until it disappeared behind the doors.

Loki took a few strides towards you and cupped your face between his hands, his eyes seemed distraught and you could feel his uneasiness.

“Do you want me?” His voice was hoarse but his eyes didn’t leave yours. “Do you see a future with me?” His question had a slightly desperate tone and even though you didn’t know why was he asking you this, you knew what you felt.

“I do.”

He visibly relaxed, his eyes glinting and a smile setting on his lips. “That is all I need.”

He looked up from your eyes and you watched as he searched between the crowds for someone.

“Viðblindi!” Loki called the healer who quickly made his way to you. “Please make sure she’s safe until I finish here.” You frowned but said nothing, Loki kept looking for someone until he spotted them. “Ægir, you should attend this reunion. There are matters that might concern you.”

You saw Ægir’s face grow serious as he nodded. When he noticed you were looking at him he gave you a reassuring smile as you felt Viðblindi pulling you away from the scene, urging you to go to your chambers to keep you safe as Loki had demanded.

You looked over your shoulder only to watch Loki walk up the steps and sit on his throne and before you could hear anything the gates closed.

* * * *

“And well?” one of the giants in the room broke the silence.

Loki took a deep breath and took a moment to choose his words carefully. “Angrboda came into this room with a dagger and tried, multiple times, to kill me and the healer with it,” he dared to look briefly at their reactions but they seemed unfazed. “She also closed the doors with magic, locking the guard out of the room.”

With a nod of his head, Loki urged the guard, who witnessed it all, to step forward and confirm the statement.

The guard nodded back and then spoke. “That is true.”

“How do we know it’s true?” Another jötunn cut in and the rest started to murmur words of agreement. “Only you, the Asgardian and the Princess were in the room. And how convenient Angrboda is the one who is dead.”

Loki clenched his hands into fists but remained neutral. He knew that was bound to happen. “I would never lie in these kind of matters.”

“Oh, and in which kind you do lie?”

Snickers could be heard and Loki felt his patience flickering. Ægir noticed and chose to interject in his defense.

“If I may,” he spoke cautiously and when he faced no resistance from the council he continued. “The healers could run a necropsy on Angrboda’s body. Find any anomalies or traces of dark magic.”

This time the crowd remained silent. They seemed to actually consider his idea which, Loki had to admit, was a good one. Finally, the first jötunn spoke again but it was directed at Loki.

“Fine. But keep your Asgardian away. The procedure will be done with jötunn hands.”

Loki sighed in relief.

“Now, why would Angrboda deem your healer a threat to the extent to try to kill her.” The same jötunn spoke, saying out loud the question no one dared to ask, at least not in front of Loki.

“She felt threatened.”

The jötunn’s face scrunched up, confused by Loki’s words. “Why would she feel threatened by a mere Asgardian?”

There was no way of sugar-coating the truth and Loki had no other option but to confess. “Because I care for her. She thought I’d make her my Queen instead of her.”

“That is ridiculous,” another jötunn spoke, disbelief clear in their tone. “Is it not, your Majesty?”

Loki was starting to feel tired of this. “I don’t see how is that any of your concern. If I am interested or not in her it should not matter.”

“Of course it matters,” another jötunn interjected, his crimson eyes burning with rage. “Our biggest quarrel is with the Asgardians. If you care more for her than for the well-being of your people then what are you doing here?”

“Should we not be discussing where did Angrboda get access to dark magic?” Loki tried to steer the discussion back to the main concern. “Ægir is one of the few jötnar with access to magic, perhaps he can do some research about what were her plans and the kind of people she was involved with?”

But the council was not having it.

“We will not accept the healer as our Queen. In fact, she will go back to Asgard and never return. She has done enough damage, now we must find another suitable giantess for the throne.”

Loki looked at Ægir with exasperation but the jötunn only gave him a sad look.

There was no way of winning this so he weighed his options.

Stay, marry someone he’d never feel a connection with, keep putting up with these annoying people but be King. Or go back to Asgard, give you and him a chance, get to see Frigga again but he’d never have a crown on his head.

It was time for a sacrifice.

* * * *

“Are you out of your mind?” You yelled bewildered at what he had just said.

He frowned as he felt you push him away. “I thought you’d be delighted, my dear.”

Loki came back from the meeting and the first thing he told you was that he was abdicating the throne and going back to Asgard so you could be together.

“Your place is here! On the throne!” Your hands flew around, exasperation radiating off of you.

“They have been very clear,” he paused, the memory sour in his head. “They will not accept an Asgardian as their Queen.”

“Loki, we don’t even know how this,” you said pointing between him and you. “Will turn out.”

“Our feelings, our relationship looks bad under this society rules,” he tried to persuade you, trying to show you how useless it was for him to stay. “There is nothing for us here.”

After stating his decision to the council, Loki felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He knew he was making the right decision, he couldn’t wait to get out of that hostile planet and go back to Asgard’s warmth. All he needed was the green light from you.

“Let’s go home, my love,” taking your hands in his, he looked into your eyes and tried to convince you once again, smiling reassuringly at you.

“Are you one hundred percent sure?” you couldn’t deny the offer was very tempting. Going back home was everything you had wanted ever since you set foot in Utgard but it wasn’t fair to Loki. You knew how much he had desired the title. “I will not be the reason why Loki Laufeyson ditched his birthright.”

He shook his head and squeezed your hands before kissing them on the back.

“I am very sure.”

“What about Angrboda?” Your frown appeared once again, your head could not forget the way she had looked as she made the door of the throne room close. “She wielded magic! That’s a very rare occurrence for a jötunn.”

“They said they would look into it but I highly doubt so.” He shrugged his shoulders and noticed his words instead of calming you were only making you more concerned. “They are more focused in getting someone to pull them out of their misery no matter the cost, which is why is suspect they’ll let it slip.”

You opened your mouth to speak but he beat you to it.

“Pack your things and let me know when you’re done.” Loki pecked you on your cheek and then made his way to your door.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to make sure our transportation is ready.” He winked an eye and smiled mischievously at you, making you frown.

What was he up to?

But before you could further question him about it, he was already opening the door so he could make his way to his chambers, leaving you to unpack on your own.

“Hurry up, my darling!”

* * * *

“I will miss you, dear.” Ægir’s arms squeezed you, barely letting you breathe.

You pulled away from each other and gave him a smile. “Thank you for your friendship, Ægir. Know that you are welcome to visit us in Asgard.” You momentarily switched your gaze to Viðblindi who stood next to Ægir and smiled at him. “The same goes to you, Viðblindi.”

You watched as Ægir placed his arm around him and pulled him closer, smiling down at him since Viðblindi was around two inches shorter than him and then kissed the top of his head.

You felt slightly thrown off by their interaction and as you were to comment something Ægir beat you to it.

“We were supposed to tell you soon but with all of this going on there was never a good time to do so.” He briefly grinned at you before looking back at the jötunn healer under his arm.

Loki’s eyebrows raised, he clearly was not expecting that.

“How could you hide this from me!?” Your eyes narrowed at them as you crossed your arms in front of you. “Though now that I think of it I should’ve noticed,” you shook your head wanting to seem upset but the hint of a smile betrayed you. “I’m happy for you, I truly am.”

Loki congratulated them and gently guided you to a certain spot on the ground. You were standing on the top of a small hill with your belongings on your backs and both Ægir and Vidblindi had kindly offered transportation so you wouldn’t have to walk and also made sure you arrived safely.

Loki turned around to face both jötnar and gave them a tight-lipped smile.

“Farewell,” he stretched his hand with theirs before switching his eyes to Ægir and gave him a court nod.“And Ægir? You are welcome in Asgard anytime you wish to visit. You and Viðblindi, of course. No hard feelings left.”

Ægir’s broad smile was contagious and made you smile, although you had no idea he was about to almost screw everything up. “Thank you, Loka–”

“Don’t you dare.”

With a murderous look, Loki stopped him and both Ægir and you laughed as you felt Loki slip his hand around your waist and pull you against his side.

“Heimdall!” He yelled to the skies and then looked down at you and smirked. “Open the Bifrost.”

Your heart pounded wildly, anxious to land on Asgard, home, after the longest and coldest weeks of your life.

Blinding colors wrapped around your bodies and the blurry sight of your friends quickly faded as you soared through the universe, your hands clutching tightly at Loki’s. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched you marvel at the galaxies around you. Feeling his own heart soar inside his body he squeezed your hand, successfully catching your attention.

You lifted your head and looked at him, the colors of the universe shinning on your eyes making you the most beautiful sight Loki had seen in centuries.

Seconds later your feet landed on a hard surface and the colors dissipated, a golden room taking its place and then your eyes landed on Asgard’s gatekeeper who stood at the same place he was when you left.

And that was when you knew,

that you were at home.

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

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thedenofravenpuff · 5 years

Text

Friendship is Magic - Destiny is Power

A ramble I’ve been wanting to make for years now, ever since the major change in status quo of letting the Cutiemark Crusaders earn their cutiemarks, after it being a running gag of them constantly causing trouble in search for their talents.

I know I’m not the first to ask, but I feel we never got true, proper answers to the one, big, lingering question on this whole subject:

What ARE cutiemarks?

Let’s consider what we know.

“Now, can anyone tell me when a pony gets his, or her, cutiemark?” “When she discovers that certain something that makes her SPECIAL!”

The typical take both show and fandoms usually take from what we know about cutiemarks, are that they represent their special TALENTS. Despite the proper introduction in the first season insisted on saying it could be anything, from a trait, a talent, skill or other vague concepts. As long it was something unique to that pony.

Upon discovering this special something themselves, the mark with reveal itself upon their flanks. Forever branding onto them this very special something about them.

The importance of these marks are so heavily branded into the minds of ponies, we never truly see the protection blankflanks need. Unless some quick lesson is needed for the episode’s morale. We witness adults allowing blankflanks used as a bad word against the blankflanked victims, both by peers AND adults. We see no repercussions towards ponies like Diamond Tiara for openly mocking the pre-CMC, as well as later on. Don’t forget her MOTHER, a responsible ADULT, openly talking down about three young fillies for not having their marks yet. Openly calling them low lives with nopony trying to correct her or even comfort the victims of this treatment. Because these marks are THAT important.

Ponies put so much importance to this brand unique to the three tribes, that we see plenty of examples through the shows of them using their marks for identification, signatures, even addresses, than their actual names. In a past ramble I’ve theorized a pony’s name is easy to change due to the nature of focusing their whole identity around their talent or appearance, that it isn’t so odd to see so many ponies fitting their marks and talent through their naming. A name can change purely based on what everyone else calls you as long it fits what they recognize you by.

But the cutiemark, once earned, forever stays the same.

They are not born with a mark, despite they can show their talents and unique traits from the early start. But they are all born with the predestined seed on who they are going to be with what skills, later revealed through the appearance through this magical mark.

But why?

And why only ponies? This very unique to only the known three tribes (plus-minus the bat ponies still left unanswered for show canon with only two vague appearance), no other creatures share this trait. Not even those seemingly somewhat related to the ponies. Kirins, changelings, mules, donkeys, goats, cows, hippogriffs... no matter the discussions we could have on how little or how much they relate to ponies, they do not share this magic trait. Even when confirmed plenty other races DO hold their own magic too.

What is a cutiemark? WHY is a cutiemark?

Even after 8+ years of the FiM show alone, we never truly got a full answer. Why only ponies? By looking at mules, apparently hybrids do not carry the trait. Only pure ponies as far we know. Despite their differences, the three tribes are all intertwined to be sharing this trait, but not with anyone outside these examples.

A pony can, from the moment they are born, show exactly when makes them unique and special is. But first receive their mark upon a special moment of realizing this. How young can a pony earn their cutiemark? How old can they become and still fail to realize their unique trait? So far I do not recall a canon example of an adult pony failing to earn a cutiemark in their youth.

BUT we have a lot of examples of ponies with their earned mark FAILING at recognizing what it stands for. Some even despairing over what they think it means. Some marks so obscure and vague you question whatever force is controlling this process was even thinking!

Not to mention another odd conundrum. Cutiemarks are earned down the line, while a pony can prove their special trait from the moment they are born. The cutiemark doesn’t GIVE them the talent, it is supposed to only represent it. Or is it? Because the in the Cutie-Map episode we are shown that a spell can REMOVE a cutiemark. And upon doing so also remove the pony’s uniqueness.

Is this due to the removal of the mark or an additional effect of the spell upon adding its own brand in replacement? Had Starlight Glimmer made a spell that only removed the mark and not added the equal sign, had ponies just be blank flanked but kept their talents just as before they earned their mark? How much was the change of the victims caused by the meddling of this special nature of themselves and how much was caused by added features of the spells?

A lot of importance rest on cutiemarks and their relations to certain traits of the ponies. We have seen powerful marks like the Princesses’ getting swapped with seemingly no change in the pony itself. We have seen magic drained from a pony also costing them their marks as well as general abilities to even move. How much of that is the excessive drain on their very life energy? How much of it is the very life of the pony is connected to the mark and vice versa?

We never get true answers, other than marks are important. Ponies rely their whole identities on whatever brand is on their butt. This very unique trait for just ponies.

I think the only true answer can only be discovered through none other than the Cutiemark Crusaders themselves.

The CMC, a running gag the early seasons about young foals desperately searching for their destiny. The paradox of earning what makes you unique to ensure you fit in with everypony else.

The CMC have me convinced that indeed SOMETHING, an unknown force, is running this show about magical butt tattoos unique to the three pony tribes. Why?

We have three fillies giving themselves the mission to earn their marks as soon as possible after joining forces. Of course they did so even before meeting, but doubling their efforts knowing they are no longer alone in their efforts.

The CMC earned a lot of knowledge on the subject for their efforts. They tried everything, rushing so fast everypony else had a good guess what their talents would be, but the young fillies taking no time to stop and realize it themselves. And a pony can only earn the mark by coming to the realization themselves. As far we are told.

Most important... what they DID earn

No other point in the show’s run have we been given an example of this kind of display, related to earning your cutiemark. Every other example we have seen, at most, comes with a short flash of light. It can differ in brightness. A lot of times ponies don’t even seem to realize they earned their mark until others point it out. It is sudden, quick and then it’s done.

Not for the CMC. They get a full on light show, floating in the air, colours, flashing and all groggy on the ground as they come to!

Not only that, they all earn the marks TOGETHER, at the same time. And remarkable close to one another in design.

They even claim in this final season that they are canonically the only ponies with matching marks the way they have them. Despite the differences, they are still truly connected in design. The marks recognizes the individual unique of each of them, but still ties them together.

Of course, looking at background ponies, I still say matching cutiemarks happen in plenty. Even if just quick reuses of old designs instead of churning out new ones constantly for bg use. But I digress. The CMC are still unique in earning their marks TOGETHER in every sense of the statement.

But why?

Twilight and pals were connected not just through their friendship, but the very foresight of their destinies together to earning their marks through the same event. Decades before knowing each other, one performing a Sonic Rainboom causing events to occur that lead to each of them to earn their respective marks. An event so important, Starlight Glimmer trying to erase it from history caused the full downfall of the world as we know it... not just for ponies, but for everyone. By denying this preset destiny.

Friendship is Magic. A force wielded by a tight group of friends, connected the Tree of Harmony created by ponies in the past who barely even saw each other as friends, more just as allies.

The Spirit of the Tree, or Spirit of Harmony, proving to be a force much grander than even its creators expected it to become. Still evolving. But I think even that force dwarfs under the light of Destiny.

Friendship is Magic, so is Harmony. Forces to beware of, but proven not unique to ponies as we have seen other than the Mane Six wielding the magic of these concepts. Ponies once known as the New Six from Our Town, before left to be forgotten. And now the Student Six. A group only consisting of ONE pony and representatives of different races.

But Destiny.

Destiny is Power. And tightly bound to cutiemarks.

The Tree has proven to hold a great foresight, upon connecting to the ponies and their cutiemarks. Before fusing with the Mane Six, the Elements were but gems, or rocks, holding mere concepts that together wielded a great force by those worthy to channel it. Merging with the Mane Six the Elements changed forms matching their marks and traits. It evolved its fusion with pony magic through the castle and the Map, a Map using cutiemarks to call ponies to where they are needed. And not just the Mane Six. Even Spike, a non pony finding himself pulled to do its bidding.

But the Tree, or Map, holds no power over ponies and their marks beyond that.

Destiny does.

Their marks and talent seem so very tightly bound to their Destiny. What their part in society is. Ponies cannot imagine a life without marks, even Starlight’s cult ran on by REPLACING the marks instead of just remove them and leave the flanks blank.

Ponies having their marks forcible removed through loss of their magic shows unable to even move. With Tirek stealing the magic from ponies, even removing their marks, we have Luna declare “Ponies will no longer be able to control their world”, at the loss of magic and talents this causes.

Ponies despair at the thought of earning an unwanted mark, to be given a destiny they cannot agree with.

Ponies can stare themselves blind upon their own marks, even tho it is supposedly only earn through recognizing their own potential.

Trouble Shoes thought his mark meant bad luck and had to be TOLD it showed his clumsiness was meant to be used to entertain. Cheerilee had a full on abstract explanation for her mark, all down to “And the SMILES represents the CHEER I hope to bring to my little ponies while they were learning!” when explaining how smiling flowers relates to her deciding to be a teacher. Foals, both already earned their marks and blanks, have to be told once mark earned it’s not the one-way path the rest of your life as one might think with this one-track focus on the mark as part of their whole identity.

The CMC earned experience through chasing their unknown marks, and upon giving up their quest to instead focusing their energy on helping others with their marks, blanks as well as marked ponies, they earned theirs.

With a full on light show ignited by them hoofbumping. Connecting them.

SOMETHING had picked their destiny at that point. SOMETHING bound these fillies together through both magic and marks, in a way that looked more like a full on spell than just any other pony earning their special mark. These fillies are to show the ponies the way, when they stare themselves blind at their own marks and destiny.

WHAT is the force behind Destiny?

I have no idea. But it relates only to ponies, even if the fillies can still provide counseling towards other creatures too (Gabbie, Terramar). Destinies for ponies are somehow connected to their marks. How it binds them to others. Yes, ponies earn their marks based on traits already shown... while others only realize the meaning of their marks much later on. Learning new ways to read their destiny, and still find the path set before them they were already on this whole time.

Something is connecting these marks with their ponies. Something unique to only these tribes. Something so closely connected to the pony’s own magic, their essence, their very destiny.

And it channels through these three fillies as its champions. The grand plan made for them quite clear yet still not fully realized at the same time. Just as the Mane Six were the champions of the Tree of Harmony, now seemingly replaced by the Student Six as their heirs to Harmony to spread beyond just the Three Tribes.

But the Destiny behind cutiemarks is spreading its influence too through three young fillies with their lives set out for them.

Where do Cutiemarks come from? What force is controlling their Destiny? I insist this force is beyond the Elements of Harmony. Yes the Elements are grand and powerful, but looking at the timeline I’ll say the force of Destiny is much older in its influence. The Essence that became Harmony was but a seed planted the Pillars upon Equestria’s founding. But we know ponies held destinies and cutiemarks before leaving the old land to escape the windigoes.

The Three Tribes have always been connected, one way or another, even before Equestria. And same have they been tied to the Destiny of cutiemarks. With yet no story to tell the tale of when all that began. Truly began.

What ARE cutiemarks? WHY are cutiemarks? How? When?

We’ll probably never know. It is such an established concept with such a set yet loose lore, I don’t think we’ll get the answers this close to the end. We can keep theorizing and make our own concepts based on it all we want.

This is just my own thoughts on the concept. I think Destiny is a force out there, still not discovered but ever so present. Older than Harmony, which only came into being after the Three Tribes managing to unite and work together. That seed might already been created even before the Pillars, created by the first Tribe representatives to bury the hatched. But planted by the Pillars, who only saw it as a powerful source for protection, never expecting its full growth.

But before all that... ponies still had Destiny looking over them. No mentions of ponies ever being without cutiemarks.

Well, this was my ramble on my thoughts about Cutiemarks and pony Destiny. Based on what we know. If I overlooked anything or you got your own theories, feel free to share.

If you made it all to the end, thank you VERY much for taking the time to read my thoughts on the subject.

#MLP #PuffBlog #FiM #Magic is Friendship #My Little Pony #Destiny is Power #Ramble #Puffy Rambles #Theory #Cutiemark #CM #Cutiemark Crusaders #Mane Six #New Six #Starlight Glimmer #Student Six #Destiny #Elements of Harmony #Tree of Harmony

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enkisstories · 5 years

Text

And five androids! (DBH)

No plot, just a little scene with Kara & Co after the revolution.

Detroit. 4203 Harrison Street.

Liz slid the key into the lock. It fit just the same as it had years ago. And why shouldn’t it? Just because Liz wasn’t handling them anymore, they were still the same keys Todd Williams had used mere days before. And with that thought Liz felt the urge to wash her hands…

The woman hesitated. The key still stuck in its hole, but remained unturned.

“Mom? ‘s something wrong?”

Alice’s question went unanswered.

Liz reconsidered her approach. She pulled the key out again and decided to try the doorbell first.

An AX400 opened the door, but quickly sidestepped so that the visitor was facing a giant worker android now. In the background a male redhead was busy wrestling a baseball bat from yet another android’s grip. This one had a disfigured face and was stubbornly, yet ultimately in vain, resisting. The bat was pulled from his hands and vanished behind the redhead’s back. From the relative ease with which this man kept countering the scar-faced android’s attempts to reclaim his bat, Liz deduced that he, too, was very likely a machine.

“This is not how we greet visitors!” the redhead scolded his opponent in this push-pull game.

“Maybe Jerry doesn’t, but Ralph does, thank you very much!”

“Uh… hi?” Liz ventured, still standing outside.

She raised the hand in which she held the keyring and let them jingle a little.

“Sorry about that! I realized too late it would make me appear suspicious.”

“You must be Liz Williams?” the AX400 replied. “Please come in! I understand it’s difficult. For all of us.”

Soon as Liz and Alice had entered the house, they spotted a fifth android, a YK500. Upon seeing the visitors, the little one mumbled “I’ll make tea! Or whatever!” and then darted into the kitchen.

Alice, too, tried to keep her distance from the strangers. She kept close to Liz, never leaving hand-touching distance and stopping just short of crouching into her mother’s open coat for protection.

“I’m sorry”, the woman spoke up, and the same instant the AX400 started to say the same. They both followed up with: “Alice is such a shy child!”

“Why don’t you help the other girl in the kitchen?” Liz addressed her daughter. “Look, we’re all adults here, you’ll get bored!”

Alice shook her head. “I don’t want to be alone with the android!”

At that the scar-faced android shot forward. He bent down to face-level with Alice and hissed: “So you’d rather be in a room with FOUR androids?” at which Alice stumbled back a few paces.

“Ralph is a shy child, too”, the worker android remarked and the AX chuckled at that.

“Yeah, thanks”, Ralph barked, obviously unwilling to drop his point. “Ralph was burnt, pursued, shot at, arrested for existing and almost crushed alive in the end!”

“Ah, so? Sounds not much worse than being married to Todd Williams”, Liz replied with a shrug.

“I imagine!” the AX agreed.

Reluctantly Liz extended a hand towards the android. “You must be Kara. I was told you’d be living here with… others. My name is Liz Williams. Ex-wife of Todd. I inherited this house and, uh, you. All of you, I think. - Awkward doesn’t even begin to describe it, am I right?”

When Kara just shook her head, at a loss for what to say, the worker android came to the rescue. You could leave it to Kara to take the lead, come up with clever plans and infect others with her determination. But to smooth over social cliffs, surprisingly, the former Mad Scientist’s muscle guy was needed.

Luther pulled a chair with each hand, one for Liz and one for Kara. He lifted Alice up onto the table and before the girlchild could even start on a shriek, she was already steadied by her mother up there. Meanwhile Ralph kept standing within reach of the window, albeit at an angle that made it difficult to spot him. Not impossible, but as hard as a runaway gardener with some solid experience in hiding was able to make it for his would-be captors. Finally Jerry sat down on the floor. He started texting the other Alice, who was still hiding in the kitchen, in his head all the while tossing balls of crumbled up paper for the household’s roomba to catch as if it was his exotic pet.

“Did they prepare you for this at all?” Luther asked gently, after he had introduced everyone by name, leaving open who “they” might be. In his experience the catch-all term was pretty well understood without needing clarification. Both using and deciphering the term in any given context came naturally to Luther’s deviant mind, therefore the android assumed that it had to be the same for humans.

Liz nodded, not confused in the least. “I was instructed”, she explained, “to sell you only together on account of all of you being deviants. And I was advised to do so rather sooner than later. For the same reason.”

“Only as a group?” Ralph flared up. “What are we now? A litter of puppies?!”

“Might as well”, Kara mused. “I understand a lot of the impromptu deviant regulations originate in animals welfare law.”

Well-meaning, but missing the point. Because the androids didn’t strive to go from tools to pets, or from abused slaves to better treated ones. Their demand was full recognition as persons.

Bounce… bounce…

Jerry’s roomba was trying to retrieve a paper ball from out of a corner. The little device worked itself up at the futile endeavor until its owner picked it up. While holding the device, Jerry “in secret” removed the offending wastepaper with his other hand. Then he released the roomba back into the wild with a smile. Watching the display, Liz couldn’t help but realize how much closer those artificial beings were to her own kind than to the robot. Different, of course, but also the same on some fundamental level.

Into the silence Alice spoke up: “I don’t want them, mom! Let’s go home and put the house up for sale! I TOLD you so before we drove here!”

“Well, it IS your house, to do with as you please”, Kara conceded. “If you want it back…? You’ve lived her before all of us, after all.”

“Yeah, but the amount of crap outweighs the happy memories I’ve got of this place. I do not want to live here again.”

Liz took her daughter’s hands into her own. She kissed her head and re-assured the child that her advice had not gone unconsidered. Then she turned back to Kara:

“If you can cover the power and water bill yourself and also manage pretty much everything else about the house, then I won’t mind you staying here. Preferred it this way, in fact.”

Jerry jumped up.

“Sounds like a deal, Mrs. Williams!” he said cheerfully. “Pizza?”

“Jerry!” Kara snapped. “This is intense! You cannot just order a pizza and call it a day!”

The EM400 android nodded.

“I hear you, Kara”, he agreed. “Homemade pizza it’ll be, then.”

And with these words he shoved Alice off the table and in front of himself towards the kitchen. On the way there Jerry grabbed Ralph, whom he dragged along.

“You, too, Ralph! Your cutting skills will be needed!”

Kara, Luther and Liz exchanged telling glances, then laughed and followed the others.

And then they really made pizza.

Ralph told everyone about veggies and the garden he wanted to start in spring…

The Alices were afraid of each other…

Jerry insisted that pizza wasn’t deserving its reputation as unhealthy fast food. A spinach-carrot-slug pizza, for example, covered everything you needed. Everyone was heartwarmingly spooked…

Then Ralph agreed in all seriousness about the toppings. Now everyone was disgusted…

Alice Archer tentatively let Alice Williams in on a secret: “I have a picture of you in my treasure chest”, she whispered…

Alice Williams was delighted! “I have many pictures of myself, too!” she said.

Asked about her house later, Liz would answer that she’d lended it to a living community for troubled adolescents: three younger teens and two older ones, the latter doing a great, but ultimately very wrong, job at pretending they were adults already.

“And five androids!” Alice Williams would caw.

#non sims #detroit become human #dbh #dbhtextpost #dbh textpost #dbh kara #dbh alice #dbh luther #dbh ralph #dbh jerry

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