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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

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FATWS One Shot #4 - Best Girls, Good Guys, Hand Art, Joy Rides

Word Count: 1922

Warnings: Cursing, Implied PTSD, Mention of IED, Motorcycle Ride Without Helmets

Setting/Characters: Captain America: The Winter Soldier in 2014; Reader, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Sam’s therapy group, Lady at the Front Desk, Mentions of Peggy Carter and Riley

A/N: Here’s number 4! Like I said in the previous One Shot, I’m hoping to get TWS One Shots done today and tomorrow. Um, I don’t have a lot to say this time since I unloaded pretty much everything in the last One Shot. So, I guess that’s all!

This isn’t beta’d, as usual, so please excuse any mistakes! Be kind to yourselves and others! Enjoy this part, thank you for reading, and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

(PICTURE DOESN’T REPRESENT READER, JUST WHAT THE ART STEVE DREW LOOKS LIKE!)

“How is she?”

Steve nodded, taking the helmet he insisted on keeping for you in the compartment under his seat out and handing it over. What a hypocrite. “She’s fine. I guess. She…forgot. We were in the middle of a conversation and she…forgot I was alive.”

You gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Alzheimer’s is a scary thing. I’m sorry. It must be hard seeing your best girl go through that.” He froze, his wide eyes scanning you. You ignored his gaze, giving him the helmet back. You really hoped it didn’t come out as sad and spiteful as you meant it. You didn’t want to despise her, you really didn’t. You couldn’t. You had too much respect for her. She did help build the organization you worked for. You just hated the position you found yourself in. “We’re just going to the VA. It’s not too far. I’ll be fine.”

“No, honey. I don’t want you getting hurt-”

“I won’t, Steve.” You pushed back. “I’ve done it before in a lot more dangerous places than the streets of DC. Plus, I trust you. You wouldn’t let me get hurt, would you?”

His lips turned up slightly, his head shaking just enough. “No. No, I wouldn’t. Hop on, then.” He jerked his head to his bike, putting the helmet away before sitting down with you following his lead. You pressed against him, an arm around his waist, thighs squeezing his hips lightly. “Ready?”

“Mhmm.” You hummed, setting your chin on his shoulder.

The bike roared to life underneath you before you took off. You were never worried when Steve drove. Sometimes he liked going fast when you two go for a drive through backroads of Virginia for a weekend, camping underneath the stars. But when you were in DC, he cruised, fast enough that you could get pulled over for doing ten over, but slow enough that you didn’t have to shout over the rush of the wind combing through your hair.

He usually talked to you while driving, but he was quiet this time. You turned your head to study him. His jaw ticked ever so often, his eyebrows furrowed and those pink lips turned down.

You didn’t want to distract him, but you couldn’t help but lift your free hand, tracing his jaw from his chin to his ear before pressing soft circles into the hinge of his jaw with your thumb. “Are you okay? Did I upset you?”

“No. No, you’re perfect, honey.” He reassured quickly, moving around a car, side eyeing you for just a second. “I’ve just…there’s a lot on my mind. A lot I need to figure out.”

You nodded. “If you ever need me. I’m here.”

He grinned, taking your hand in one of his to press a kiss to the knuckles, eyes not leaving the road. “I know.”

“Tell me more about this Sam Wilson guy.”

Steve chuckled before telling you about his run the day prior and how he lapped Wilson a few times and their conversation afterwards. He was just finishing up when he parked in the parking garage of the VA, “and then Natasha drove up saying she was looking for a fossil she was supposed to pick up.”

“A fossil.” You snorted. “I’m gonna have to use that.”

He gave you a playful glare as you swung your leg around and stood up. Catching your jaw between his fingers, he chuckled when he squished your cheeks together. “Call me a fossil, honey, and I’ll tell Fury the only way I’m doing missions is if you don’t.”

You gasped, shaking your head. “You ‘ouldn’!” You slurred out, trying to talk with your lips pursed.

He gave a little giggle, gently making your head move up and down in a nod. “Oh yes I would.” He pecked your nose, letting go of your cheeks. “C’mon, dame.” You blinked after him as he started towards the elevators with long strides.

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

He smirked at you over his shoulder as you jogged to catch up, holding his hand out behind him. “C’mon. You know I’d never do that to ya.”

Narrowing your eyes, you snatched his hand and huffed. “Well…yeah. But still.”

Another chuckle left his lips, pulling you closer to his side as you pressed the button for the elevator, leaving a kiss on your head. You fell into comfortable silence after that, Steve’s thumb tracing patterns on your hand while you waited for the elevator to ding.

When it finally did, Steve had a pen pulled out and, as you entered the elevator, he pulled your hand up closer to his face, lifting the writing utensil to the back of your palm.

You didn’t say anything, merely looking around the elevator after pushing the level you were going to. It was something you found that calmed Steve; drawing. So whenever he was bored or anxious, you let him draw on your hand. He used to ask, but he stopped after you told him you’d never say no.

The elevator dinged and the doors open, causing Steve to stop inking up your skin and drop your still linked hands down to your sides, shoving his pen in his pocket. You looked down at the partial flower and leaves wrapping around your wrist, smiling affectionately. He really was a good artist.

The lady at the front desk told you where to go when you asked for Sam Wilson, which Steve did rather eagerly, making you laugh. He had told you about Sam’s want to impress her when he came in. Apparently he was with a group, but she said it was okay for you to go in as long as you didn’t disrupt anything. Steve thanked her, before following her directions down the hall and around the corner.

You heard them before you saw them. A woman was talking, telling a story of how she got pulled over the previous week. Steve leaned against a column to the side of the room, out of the way, putting his hands in his pockets. You let his hand go to allow him to do so, linking your arm with his and holding his wrist with your free hand.

“I swerved…to miss a plastic bag. I thought it was an IED.”

You watched Steve’s reactions through the rest of the session. It wasn’t much longer - maybe ten minutes - before it ended. You had tried to convince him to go to one of these when he first got out of the ice, but he refused.

“I’ve already got you, honey. That’s all I need.”

And, yes, he did have you; your assignment was literally helping him with that stuff. But you still thought he’d benefit from it. Especially now since you had started going back on your own assignments. Maybe he’d start going to Wilson’s.

After the meeting, you and Steve walked up to the veteran who had just finished his farewells and started cleaning up the table at the front with brochures and things. “Look who it is. The running man. And who’s this pretty lady?”

You smiled, sticking out your hand, your name leaving your lips in an introduction. “Sam Wilson.” He shook your hand with a grin of his own. “Nice to meet you, cher.”

“You too, Sam.”

“We caught the last few minutes.” Steve stated, leaning on the wall again, keeping his arm linked with yours. “It’s pretty intense.”

You listened sadly as Sam told you two about his wingman, Riley, but you didn’t pity him. You knew what it was like to lose people and you hated the pity you received from others. You were glad to see he wasn’t beating himself up over it, even allowing himself to smile as the conversation shifted to his retirement. Steve was right; he did seem like a good guy.

“Are you thinking about getting out?”

You glanced up at Steve as he answered “no.” You saw the hesitation in his eyes that flickered to you, before he met Sam’s again. “I don’t know.” Hearing Steve admit that he didn’t know what he wanted made your heartache. You wanted him to be happy, and the fact that he didn’t know what made him happy caused you to grip his arm tighter.

You, Sam, and Steve talked a bit longer, getting to know each other a little better. You even did the unthinkable and told him you worked for SHIELD when he asked how you two knew each other. Steve raised an amused eyebrow as your eyes widened, your hand slapping over your mouth.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe I just told you that. You can’t tell anyone.”

Sam laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry. My lips are sealed.”

You finally said bye when Sam mentioned needing to get back to work. Walking back towards the elevators, Steve chuckled and nudged you. “You warmed up to him quickly.”

“Ha ha.” You rolled your eyes, your face landing in your hands. “Oh my God. I’ve never told anyone that. Ever.”

“I told you. He’s a good person. Easy to talk to.”

“Yeah…speaking of,” you tilted your head up to him as you stepped into the elevator, the doors closing behind you. “Do you want to get out?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly. “That’s not what I said. I just…I don’t really know…what to do.”

You pouted a little, tilting your head. “What would you’ve done in the 40’s? After the war?”

“I dunno.” He shuffled on his feet. “Be a lab rat.”

“Steven-”

“Forget it. Forget I said anything.” Your frown deepened, your arms crossing over your chest. “Please don’t.” He said softly, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, one thumb smoothing out your forehead while the other ran over your pouty lips. “Don’t be upset.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “I’m not. I, just…worry.”

He placed his lips to your forehead, hands slipping to your waist to pull you closer. “Well don’t.”

Your hands mimicked his previous position, holding his face, thumb brushing under his eyes. Your eyes caught sight of the barely started design on your hand, and your lips pursed thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Drawing makes you happy.” He blinked at your words, confusion in those ocean eyes of his. “You said you don’t know what makes you happy. Drawing does. And you’re really good at it. You could be an artist or something. Like a tattoo artist. I’d go to you. I mean, look at this!” You showed him your hand. “It’s not even halfway done and you did it with a crappy dollar store pen”

He gave you a small smile. “I appreciate that, honey, but I don’t think I could do that day in and day out.”

“Even with new customers coming in every day, asking for different designs in different places?”

Giving a chuckle, he leaned into your palm, kissing it. “You really want me to think about this don’t you?”

You scoffed. “Duh!”

He shook his head, ducking down to press his lips to your cheek, before laying his forehead on your shoulder. “I’m okay right now.”

“Are you?”

“Mhmm.” He hummed, arms wrapping around you. “Because I have you. And you make me happy, honey.”

You hugged him back, face pressing into his neck. You were glad you made him happy. And as long as you made him happy, you’d keep this relationship the way it was. Even if that meant you’d never be his best girl. “You make me happy too, bubs.”

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

All Works Taglist (Open):

@happygoreading @bibliophilewednesday

#cjswriting #fatws series oneshots #falcon and the winter soldier series oneshots #fatws series oneshot 4 #fatws series #best girls good guys hand art joy rides oneshot #steve rogers x reader #kinda #💛🧭#❤🐦💙🦾⏪

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rickriordanfandam · 3 years

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opinions on riordanverse ; my edition

a lot of people have been doing this so i decided why not right. probably gna lose some followers or smth but anyways. pls respect my opinions! if u disagree, thats fine, but please be polite. unless any of my opinions strikes u as morally wrong then pls point it out to me respectfully. thanks!

- i actually liked drew. im so sorry to everyone who hates her but full offence, why. think about it this way ok, first of all drew became hc because silena died. silena was the traitor, the one who betrayed chb, yet after she died campers celebrated her as a hero? and then drew suddenly has to replace her and live up to idk that legacy she left behind,, when all of a sudden this girl named piper swoops in and takes her place. idk abt u but i wld be salty abt that too. not only that, but as an asian, the chances of drew having faced racism/bullying as a child is pretty high (she studies at brooklyn academy). which means that when she finds out shes a demigod, and arrives at chb where most of the campers are white (this is an assumption btw), she’d obviously be scared of being bullied for her skin color right?? so the first thing she wld do before the campers get to bully her is to bully them before they can do so. (sentence structure here is wack i apologize) ofc this might not even have happened, drew could have had a perfect childhood && was a b1tch for no reason, BUT EVEN THEN HER ROLE AS A BULLY WAS PRETTY VITAL BECAUSE THAT FURTHER SHOWED THE CONTRAST BETWEEN HER AND PIPER,, HIGHLIGHTING PIPER AS A HERO//GOOD CHARACTER,, AND THEREFORE MAKING READERS LIKE PIPER MORE. anyway stop hating on drew please. ALSO WHY IS THIS SO LONGA SDFJHG

- jason isnt bland, the fandom just kinda erased his backstory (thanks to @pjohoo-memes for the phrasing lol)

- reynabeth wouldnt have lasted/would have broken up several times. idk i just see them as two extremely powerful characters who have firm opinions and will definitely clash at some point. in a platonic relationship,, i can see them as really good friends but as lovers? idk i just think theyll break up

- PIPABETH

- i dont really like jercy,, i see them as better friends than lovers. also idt jason and percy were that close..?

- the dam and not my type jokes are srsly cringey and were never funny. ik that seems hypocritical since my username literally makes use of the dam joke but honestly i dont actually like the joke. its not funny to me and has never been funny

- the seven were not best friends. they definitely argued,, and honestly probably werent as close as the fandom makes them seem. like ure dumped with 6 other people, out of which u only know a few. my introverted ass would have jumped off the argo 2 quicker than leo valdez could bomb camp jupiter up. also leo was a dick to frank. so what if frank is bigger sized?? thats not a valid reason to tease him

- the fandom needs to stop hating on octavian while worshipping luke. if u hate luke and u say u hate octavian too, then okay. but if u tell me ure a luke stan but u despise octavian?? imma disagree w u. luke was worse than octavian im sorry. first of all, octavian being a dick was kinda justified. hes been after the praetor position for so long, and everyone keeps saying to “wait for jason” when suddenly this dude, whos a son of NEPTUNE (neptune wasnt liked much by romans), and the camp decides to make him praetor?? dude i would be pissed off big time. and then afterwards, he finds out that greek demigods are real and the dude they made praetor is greek. AND THEN GREEK DEMIGODS COME TO CJ AND ONE OF THEM BOMB IT UP?? octavian has been told all his life that greeks are scum and this dude called leo valdez attacks cj. sure it was an accident, but did octavian know that? no. so it was honestly justified that he was such a salty prick im just saying. also some of yall be hating on octavian for cutting a teddy bear open and thats the funniest shit ive ever heard i swear

- luke didnt go to elysium

- travis and connor stoll r way too underrated. the two have been head counselors of the hermes cabin since luke was revealed as a traitor, can u imagine the stress? luke, the person they probably looked up to as a brother, betrayed them. and they didnt even have time to process this when they were thrown the roles of being hcs. that would have been so stressful and i would probably have broken down if i were them. the stoll brothers taking turns to wake up at ungodly hours because a new camper is crying and homesick and terrified, the stoll brothers having to comfort and take care of new campers, having to deal with the amount of people in that cramped space because not enough campers are being claimed fast enough. having to resolve issues between campers in the hermes cabin all the time. the stolls arent just comedic relief, and we need to stop treating them as such

- tratie shldve been canon idc idc

- demigods of the demeter cabin arent talked about enough and i love the fact that meg was demeters kid. like she isnt the child of one of the big three yet shes so powerful.

- we need to hype clarisse up more her character arc was phucking amazing

- rachel is overhated. sis found out greek gods exist and regularly come down to earth to fuck around and went “ok cool”. queen shit behavior methinks

- the floor 19 crew of mcga is srsly underrated. like do u even remember halfborn gunderson, mallory keen, tj, etc??? bc i feel like we only remember samirah, magnus, alex, and sometimes blitz and hearthstone

- sadie (tkc) was kinda annoying at first. i like her more now tho but i rmb not liking her for a phat while

- tkc and mcga need more love

- carter kane and jason grace arent boring. theyre just really sweet boys who are too good for this world and yes yes yes

- hazel and frank (especially frank) need to be hyped up more. i hardly ever see anything about them. also yall seem to forget that frank was literally made praetor and that even hecate admired hazel and was willing to fight beside her because of how powerful she was

- frazels age gap is kinda sketch but i still think theyre really cute

- nico definitely had trauma from going to tartarus on his own

- GROVER IS PERCYS BEST FRIEND

- annabeth isnt smarter than leo but neither is leo smarter than annabeth. ive seen a lot of discussions about who is smarter and heres my hot take on it: neither. theyre equally smart, just in different ways. leos a genius mathematically speaking. he has no issues solving math problems meant for people much, much older than him. annabeth on the otherhand, is great at strategies etc. she can make an army of 1000 more powerful than the enemy, even if theyre outnumbered. so in my opinion, both are equally as smart//u cant compare their intelligence, because their talents lie in two different areas.

- while i do agree rick riordan isnt a god and that hes bound to make mistakes,, AND that hes given us a lot of representation,, if the representation offends the people its sposed to represent, then theres a problem. im talking about piper as a poc and wearing feathers in her hair. im not a poc, so i cant speak for them on whether or not its wrong, because i dont know either. HOWEVER, i have seen multiple posts BY pocs talking about how they didnt really like rick’s representation of piper, and thats an issue. pocs have been and are still oppressed and discriminated against by many. as a white cis man, we cant really blame him for not knowing (tho he could have done a research,, asked some pocs,, idk), but by representing pocs in that manner, hes influencing impressionable kids/teens into thinking “oh pocs wear feathers in their hair all the time” etc, which isnt true. the pjo/hoo series is extremely successful, and kids who read the books will probably start forming inaccurate opinions on pocs. the amount of fan art that depicts piper with feathers in her hair dont help either. “but rick said so in the books, so its canon” yeah well rick isnt a god and he can get some things wrong at times. im not saying we should cancel him, im saying we should start educating ourselves and not spread false info like pocs wearing feathers in their hair all the time. also that snake song shit where she sang Summertime was just- yeah. bc heres the thing you can be racist, and still include minorities, but portray them in a racist way. And even then, ignorance isn't a thing to admire. Getting those facts wrong still has a major impact. It continues to perpetuate racist stereotypes.

“ With the feather thing, I looked it up myself; it takes less than five minutes to figure out that Cherokees don't braid feathers into their hair. I didn't grow up in the country where my parents are from. I have many other first/second generation American friends who have also been through that, with a bit of a disconnect from their culture. But something that most of us have in common is that when we didn't know something, and when our parents weren't that big of a help, we looked it up. We sought out resources online and through other people from our culture to be able to connect more with where we came from. Some of that took a Google search. So I find it hard to believe that Piper, a girl who Rick's trying to portray as someone who is attempting to connect with her culture and is totally against racist stereotypes, wouldn't know that eagle feathers aren't supposed to be braided into your hair casually. She may be disconnected from her culture, but she's also shown to want to connect back to it. Piper wouldn't be casually braiding feathers into her hair while also telling off people for being racist. It makes no sense.” - reddit thread (down below)

for those of yall who wanna know more please please read this, it has a lot of things i wanna add in here : https://www.reddit.com/r/camphalfblood/comments/gy3gl2/piper_mcleans_portrayal_is_innacurate/

as well as https://finding-my-culture.tumblr.com/post/189422373260/maxie-ratties-and-cattie-finding-my-culture

i will be posting screenshots of these in future posts so if ure viewing this on ig and u dont have tumblr,, dont worry

- the fact that most of the strong female characters in the series refuse to be “girly”, and ngl i dont really like that. just because ure girly doesnt mean u cant be strong.

- piper would have been a great way for him to start making the strong characters act girlier, but instead he went with the “I’m not like other girls” trope which is quite obnoxious to hear constantly, and I don’t think it’s necessarily great for younger girls to read that idea growing up. the closest we've ever had to a strong female character who was also into "girly" things was Silena. when I was younger I admired Piper's "I'm not like other girls" thing, but then I got older and realized that the whole mentality of "not like other girls" is super obnoxious, and a little bit toxic

i have a heck load more that i cant rmb rn but yeah feel free to add more

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lionoutoftheden · 3 years

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I thought the premise of liking Snape as a character was being able to look at these characters as both good and bad, you know, nuance. Do I think Snape was backed into a blood purist hate group bc he monetarily had no way out? absolutely.

do I think it was necessary to be viscous to children under his care, but spare his own house? no, it's terrible

is it key to point out that he never placed children in harm's way until he was headmaster at Hogwarts when Voldmart? yes, because in the books it seems there is at least some effort of guiding the torturers efforts away, and absolutely, it's super shitty, but can we also point out that the characters I used to idolize, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, put children in harm's way. Starting with Snape at the Shrieking Shack. Moody not taking his potions till the last minute, and also not telling Dumbledore about the ways that Sirius Black could get in the castle, or that he is an animagus, or Sirius's recklessness after Azkaban (is it explainable? sure. does it justify what happened? no.)

jesus, even the last thing Sirius says to Harry is in thinking that he's James. Sure that delighted Harry for all of two seconds before he died, but an adult Harry, who is able to look back at the trauma of the war, and is able to realize the possibility that his godfather, this person who represents closeness with his parents, saw him as nothing more than his dad, and how devastating that possibility would be.

Anyway... Snape. I don't understand why some people who are Snape fans seem to be under the assumption that Lily being awful to Snape is the only

I've seen the argument made that Lily is "using" Severus because he's magical. Right. So not a common interest? No, and definitely not that Lily's a little girl discovering things about herself deemed scary by the person she's closest to (Petunia) and here comes this kid to say, "hey, me too." But you're right that's a terrible way to start of a friendship of 11 year olds.

And then she snaps at Petunia, is cruel to her. After her sister uses her jealousy as a weapon to her, Lily snaps back, and promptly blames Severus for it. The thing is, when people look at this, apparently they don't notice that Petunia holds no weight in Severus's eyes. What exactly is she going to do to him? Lily on the other hand, is bullied when she has to go home to her and is rejected by a sister she still loves.

It's funny, in the rush to defame Lily I feel like we forget that she hates James. Like, really, really hates (even Sirius and Remus later talk about that), and in no small part because of the bullying him and Sirius inflict upon Snape.

The quote people use, where Lily is at the ends of her wits with her best friend, and she feels betrayed by someone she's close to (but??? he doesnt have a choice??? Lily is classist!!! Dude, she's a teenager. If we are encouraged to ignore Draco Malfoy's classist behavior and despise Lily's... yeah, dude, double standard.) who is joining a group where the perogituve is "my blood is purer than yours, therefore I get to live and you don't." But yeah, Lily is the blind one for not understanding how traumatic bullying is the same is saying "I want you and all your friends dead."

And yes, Lily is not the best listener in this situation. Did she not believe that something terrible happened to Severus at the Willow? Yes. They were under oath not to tell her?? Or at least made a promise to Dumbledore?? So Lily is supposed to question Dumbledore now??

And then like Severus is being horribly bullied, Lily is just standing there screaming at James, goes over to help Snape, he calls her That Slur™️ and she retorts with something she knows will hurt, classism, which is not justifiable. (Is a slur justifiable either? haha, no)

So yeah, in 2 areas Lily is cruel to people she loves.

And then she cuts things off with Snape. And yeah, he pulls the romantic comedy stunts of sleeping outside the Common Room, but she's given him a lot of time to explain why he's so involved with Death Eaters (do I blame him for this? no. Again, teenagers.)

And now she's done.

Sometimes, when you give people chances to change, and they don't explain to you why they're not changing, you get to (surprise surprise) leave the friendship.

If Lily had lived, would we see her continue assholery that is so often prevalent in her generation? No idea. The point of the entire series is that she does young. Do we ever get to see her as a fully fleshed out character? Uh, no, because we only get glimpses from people who loved her. And like, Petunia, once, which was weird.

tldr; pointing at minor yet pivotal characters and "hot taking them" so that they are only bad and kind of abusive, takes away from everyone's story.

#lily evans #snape #it's not hard to understand nuance #pro lily evans #pro snape

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smolbeandrabbles · 3 years

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My Last Name - Ralph Anderson x Reader (The Outsider)

@wltz-bby @happyskywhale

GIF CREDIT: X

Author’s Note: I was supposed to get this off the ground before the Holiday period so I could write my winter wedding fic and like... completely forgot about it until it was a little too late. So while you won’t get the Wedding this year, though I’m not promising inspiration won’t strike late, or... y’know if there’s demand, I thought I would still give you the proposal. Special shout out to a very good friend who keeps giving me SO much Ralph Anderson inspiration. I needed it and didn’t even know. Keep doing what you’re doing! 💕

We stan the pure form of ‘Daddy’ on this blog.

My Last Name - Dierks Bentley

Disclaimer: The Outsider (Book/HBO) Nothing to do with me / gif not mine / lyrics not mine / I’ve had this in my head so long and I’m not really sure this is the pay off but... here we are!

Premise: Ralph Anderson has a lot on his mind and that list is only going to get bigger. He’s not one for believing in confluence - it’s up to Yune to remind him sometimes things do just work out...

Words: 4517

Warnings: ....Insulin warning? For a buncha reasons. I mean I know you guys know what’s coming but reader doesn’t! / Swearing

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I learned how to write it When I first started school Some bully didn't like it, He said it didn't sound too cool So I had to hit him And all I said when the blood came It's my last name Daddy always told me far back as I recall Son, you're part of somethin', You represent us all So keep it how you got it, as solid as it came It's my last name Passed down from generations Too far back to trace I can see all my relations When I look into my face May never make it famous But I'll never bring it shame It's my last name So darlin' if you're wonderin' Why I've got you here tonight I want to be your husband, I want you to be my wife I ain't got much to give you But what I've got means everything It's my last name Oh, it's my last name

---

Whenever Ralph used to be woken up in the middle of the night it was usually a call. The kind where he would groan and for all of 10 seconds - whilst glancing bleary-eyed at the clock flashing some ungodly hour of the morning - wish that he wasn’t a man of the law. It still happened occasionally these days, but a little less and less; people seemed more respectful of his situation now and wouldn’t call him unless absolutely necessary. Or unless the scene really needed both of you on it, and right away. Instead Ralph was woken by the tugging of sheets. You were still fast asleep, and he wasn’t surprised; the case you’d been working on meant putting in the late hours. He was at least glad you’d hauled Yune onto it with you, even though as your partner (in every capacity) Ralph felt a little guilty about it. You kept telling him not to be silly, he had bigger things to focus on right now. But he couldn’t help it, and he always thought ‘bigger than this case, though?’ As he sat up to figure out what was going on, Ralph came face to face with your adopted daughter Renée. “Oh, oh, Renée, sweetheart, what’s wrong are you okay? Honey?” Although also half asleep she was currently crying and whimpering and Ralph was immediately alert and concerned, “Oh, honey… honey it’s okay… what happened?” He wound his arms around her and hoisted her up into bed, and she kept crying, burying her face in his soft sleep shirt, “Daddy… don’t let the monsters get me, daddy…” “Shhh… Shhh… It’s okay, sweetheart it was a bad dream… I promise it’s just a dream.” It better have been, because if anything like that shapeshifter ever came for the people he loved again Ralph Anderson would give it more than just hell. But Ralph couldn’t help but be a little flustered. She had never, not in all the time you’d been together, nor in the joint decision for him to move into your house, called him ‘daddy’ before. Not even on accident. ‘Ralphie’ was as close as he got to a cute nickname - although he despised it from anyone that wasn’t her. He couldn’t help but be overcome with joy as he wrapped her in his arms, rubbing her back, nor that it spilled to his heart, now beating faster. Ralph had wanted to hear it from Renée for a long time, he certainly wouldn’t deny that. But he wouldn’t force it out of her until she was ready - he was just a little concerned that it had come to her after bad dreams… Ralph’s eyes flicked to you, luckily still fast asleep, he didn’t want to worry you with this if he didn’t have to. Kissing her forehead gently he was glad to see that she wasn’t crying anymore, but she was still holding him so tight and whimpering every so often. “It’s okay, Renée… they won’t get you I promise. I’m here…” That only caused her to hold him tighter, mumbling into his shirt, “Can I stay with you and mommy?” Ralph chuckled gently, another spike to his heartrate that he knew was ending with a stupid grin, he wiped it off to be appropriately concerned, “Of course you can… C’mere, we’ll protect you…” She snuggled in the sheets between you, and Ralph put his arm around both of you, feeling your body move under his touch and your subconscious hum of content. “Goodnight Renée…” He mumbled, hoping he’d be able to settle back to sleep easily. “Goodnight, Daddy…” She already sounded like she was drifting. Ralph smiled again before kicking himself. Don’t get ahead of yourself… she’ll forget by tomorrow morning...

***

He was standing in the kitchen with his what felt like his fourth cup of coffee when you returned from dropping her at school. “You best be careful with those today… what with your Captain’s interview!” You chided, pouring what was left into a cup of your own, before kissing his cheek. Ralph’s smile came off as more of a grimace, “I’ll need all the help I can get.” You shook your head at him, leaning against the counter, “Come on. Don’t be ridiculous, you’ll ace it.” He shook his head, “No.” You sighed, taking his hand and tugging him to you, forcing his eyes to look at yours, “Ralph Anderson, I’ll tell you good luck if that’s what you really want, but you don’t need it.” He laced his fingers with yours, “It’s only contention, Y/N. It’s not a dead cert.” You raised an eyebrow, kissing his knuckles, “Nope. You’ll get it.” Ralph’s eyes flicked back to the garden and he chewed the inside of his lip frowning, you tried searching his face for any clue as to what was on his mind besides the interview. But this detective had you stumped. “What’s wrong?” “Renée called me daddy last night.” You froze, and not only because that was so out of the blue, you knew what that meant to him. How many times you’d teased him about the moment it would finally happen. Now she’d done it, but it wasn’t the FIRST thing he’d said this morning?! “And you weren’t gonna tell me-!?! Ralph, that’s-! That’s so good!” Ralph squinted at nothing in particular, “Look, she… she was half asleep. I don’t think she’s gonna remember it.” “Does that matter? You do.” You pushed yourself up on your toes to turn his face back to yours and you smiled, “Babe… tell me how you felt. Right now, tell me how you felt.” “Like when you first told me you loved me.” You scoffed, but Ralph continued, “My heart kinda… went on overdrive. I know I was grinning like an idiot. Just… overjoyed. I guess, but Y/N she won-” You pulled him to your lips to stop him from getting negative, “Channel it. That feeling and that positivity. Into your interview.” “Y-Yeah okay.” Ralph sighed, knowing he wouldn’t get away with it, and then couldn’t help but smile, “I’m sorry I didn’t wake you. But it was bad dreams, I didn’t wanna worry you.” “Ah, I did wonder why she woke up in our bed.” You kissed him again, “I gotta go, daddy, but I’ll see you after your interview.” Ralph hesitated in your arms at your repeated phrase; “...I’ll need 20 drinks at this rate.” You laughed, but the fact that he was now blushing didn’t escape your notice, “Me too!” “How’s it all going-?” “Oh no.” You shook your head, “Interview first, case later. I got some more interviewing of my own to do!” You turned to him at the door with a smile, and blew him a kiss, “Later, Mr. Anderson.”

***

Flint City PD needed a new Captain. This rumour of retirement had been circulating a while with absolutely no weight to it. But earlier this month the Captain had announced that this time, those rumours were true and he would be retiring in a few months’ time - interviews starting imminently. Ralph hadn’t needed any encouragement to sign up, he knew he was getting to the age where he ought to be thinking of desk work as the main part of his job. Also, how often did the opportunity come up? You’d had one simple chat with him about it, that one where he tried to convince himself of all the reasons why he shouldn’t apply, and you told him to shut up and go for it. So Ralph had, and his interview was today. He knew he wasn’t the only one in the precinct to apply for it, and he knew that there were applications coming in from outside Flint City - heck he’d seen a bunch of ‘em walk in to be interviewed. (Always with you and Yune looking at them and throwing comments around that Ralph thought were supposed to help encourage him, but wasn’t always entirely sure) But from what he’d gathered, most of the FCPD wanted it to be him that got the position. Ralph was - obviously - humbled, but he wasn’t one for counting his chickens.

As his interview approached, he’d broached the conversation more seriously with you. Right now you were his detective partner. There wasn’t a lot of conflict of interest there, because you always worked cases together. But if he was the Captain, and you were a detective under him, he could see why that would cause an issue. You’d moved to Flint City PD to further your own career, and Ralph didn’t want to put a halt on that just because he was the Captain of the department. And Ralph liked working cases with you - aside from you actually being his girlfriend - so there was that element that might disappear too. And he wasn’t sure he wanted that: “So, if I do get it - theoretically - I’ll have to promote you into a senior role. Otherwise you’re a ‘junior’ detective working cases that someone of my current role should be doing. Or I can just put you in my role… But then, do I pull someone else in? Y/N, I want to partner with you still. Would that be okay?” You raised your eyebrow and played into his ‘theoretical’ world: “You’re the Captain.” “Yeah, but conflict of interest.” You frowned, considering it, “Well, no-one has exactly said anything before now. But I see when you’d be in a position of authority over me why it’d cause trouble.” You shrugged, “See what the general consensus is; at work, with the people of Flint City. The DA’s office.” The legal side was very important. You couldn’t risk cases getting thrown out. “I don’t give a damn if the DA’s office cares-!” With that jokey tone - and the inference of your friendship with Samuels behind it - Ralph leant across and kissed you, “Good idea, Ms. S.S. Andersson.” You smiled, but shook your head at his nickname, he was always after that double-S. “I do have them, occasionally!”

Ralph knew that he wouldn’t get the peace and quiet he really required to prepare, when he rolled into the parking lot and Yune was standing outside the precinct doors, arms folded. ‘Just perfect.’ He took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair - really Ralph wasn’t sure why he was panicking so much about the interview; he knew enough that was fairly certain. Maybe he wanted it too much… maybe - with the consequences of your relationship - he didn’t want it enough. He chewed on his lip, sitting in silence for a minute. You were likely right about him being a dead cert, but Ralph was not about to bet on it until that paper arrived on his desk officially.

Yune came strolling over the second Ralph opened his car door; “How you feelin’?” “Honestly, pretty terrible. I’ve had more cups of coffee this morning than I can count. I haven’t had a real interview in years. I don’t even know what I’m expecting in there. Usually I’m the one asking questions.” “Well don’t act like a suspect and you’ll be fine!” Yune chuckled, but the quirk of Ralph’s eyebrow told him that wasn’t helpful, so Yune jogged his arm instead as they walked towards the precinct, “Man you got this in the bag!” “Look, can I just have the interview first-? Speaking of, I thought you were helping Y/N today?!” Yune shrugged, “I offered to get everyone coffee.” “So you could stand outside and wait for me?” Ralph pushed open the door, turning to his friend, “A little. But while she’s in there I can talk to you!” Ralph’s smile was a little crooked as he opened your office door, “About what?” Although he knew full well where this conversation was going. “C’mon man! About what!” Ralph threw his jacket over the back of his chair and booted up his computer. His interview notes were still on top of his desk where he’d left them yesterday; you had little cue cards you’d been asking him questions from and he’d been able to answer with a confident smile on the drive home. Maybe he just had to pretend the Captain was you - Ralph had second thoughts on that helping. “Can I just get through today before you get onto me about any of that.” “Geez, what are you so worried about today for?!” Ralph bit his lips together and again blurted it, “Renée called me daddy last night and I- I just… I dunno what I do with that.” Yune’s eyes immediately widened, “Holy shit-” “Don’t get ahead of yourself. It was after a bad dream, she wasn’t properly awake-” Ralph waved his hands towards the floor to calm Yune down, but it didn’t work. “-This is all falling into place! Especially when you’re thinking of…!” Yune’s face lit up, “HA!” Ralph shook his head, “Geez, but it’s all a little too convenient right? Like it’s all just happening a little too… at the same time.” Yune let out a frustrated sigh, making sure the door behind him was closed, “For fuck sake Ralph, just propose to the girl already, you’re killing me here-!!” Ralph looked panicked for a second as he waved his hands once more and pressed his finger to his lips to shut Yune up, looking pretty stern, “Shush!” “She loves you, her kid loves you, you’re gonna get this Captain’s job. It’s all gonna work out. Sometimes things just work Ralph. I know you’re not a big believer… even when you know there’s other forces at work out there.” “...Things don’t just work… there’s gotta be reasons!” “Yeah, I just gave you three, they aren’t connected, they’re just happening at the same time. Stop looking for trouble where there isn’t any.” Yune crossed the room and shook his friend’s shoulders, “Cheer up! Ace this interview!” Then he chuckled, “Now I’m gonna go get coffee before Y/N kills me.” Ralph couldn’t help but chuckle back, “Yeah. I would, and I won’t be stopping her!” “Aw,” Yune feigned hurt as he walked back through the door, “now that’s unfair-! After all my support!?”

Ralph sat back at his desk, finding himself needing to take an even bigger deep breath and wishing Yune hadn’t brought up the proposal. It had been a tentative idea thrown out there the last time the two of them had after work drinks, and Yune had immediately leapt on it. He liked asking if Ralph had thought about what he was going to say, and where, and how, and if he’d got a ring yet. And although Ralph was serious, and he knew in the back of his head such a proposal was imminent, he didn’t know anything beyond the fact he was going to do it. He placed a hand to his forehead and groaned, turning back to his notes - this was priority one, everyone was right. Once Ralph knew what his future was going to hold, he could start thinking about what his future with you would look like - and exactly how he’d change that last name of yours.

***

Anderson and Andersson had been a running joke between nearly the whole damn city since you’d arrived here. Yune had refused to tell Ralph your name until the Captain had introduced you. And you’d had to on the spot explain to a surprised looking Ralph that ‘mine is spelt with a double-S’ - hence his sometime-nickname for you. With Yune standing by trying his very best to hold in his laughter with a poker face. How you had to introduce yourselves as “Detective Anderson & Andersson” and everyone got that look on their face. And how you started adding the quip of “Yes, we’re partners.” when you’d started dating. But people started to think that you were already married - and then began the process of explaining the spelling, to every person in Flint City who gave the same little amused smile.

When Ralph had started to joke with you about the possibility of getting married, he’d always said something along the lines of; ‘We need to get rid of that extra S - shouldn’t be too hard!’ You’d never really known - or particularly cared - if he was serious or not. You never seemed to be fishing for marriage, the only time you’d brought it up semi-seriously was when you’d had a tentative conversation of having kids of yours own, your comment being ‘At least change my last name first-!’ Your main concern really was his influence on Renée’s life - and you didn’t need to be married for that to continue the way it was going. She didn’t need to refer to Ralph as her father, but he was certainly a father figure for her. Although ever since that night he’d wanted her to say it again, accidentally, or maybe again in a half-asleep state; it hadn’t happened. And you’d watched Ralph try not to look disappointed, or try not to look like he was wishing for it so hard… You both knew it would take her time, but it looked like it was killing him.

He got the Captaincy easily enough, it was barely even an interview; basic competency questions before what felt much more like a chat. Although Ralph was very cautious of slip ups even then. Of course the Frankie Peterson case was brought up, and all Ralph really had to say was that lessons were learned, no-one was perfect, Terry was done right by in the end. We got the guy - though for obvious reasons he didn’t add that. Ralph was fully prepared to admit to mistakes, but thought the rest of his career would speak for itself. And it clearly did. Basically the whole precinct had been called together when it was announced and had a party for him. (Your little family and his closest friends had a more relaxed and intimate dinner together afterwards, where Ralph let himself go a little bit). Ralph was very humble about accepting it, and careful about his transition period. Especially when it came to you, everyone seemed alright with things as they stood - they had watched you both for several years as partners and how the relationship had played out there. It was all very ‘let’s see how it goes’ - and Ralph would take any complaints or comments about professionalism, favouritism or conflicts of interest very seriously. He had sent a general enquiry to the head of county police, but hadn’t heard anything back yet. Ralph just didn’t want to have to move you somewhere when you were so settled. You joked about going to the DA’s office, but that didn’t go down well - for obvious Bill Samuels related reasons, but also because Ralph thought that might make things even worse. You only ever rolled your eyes at him, “For the millionth time I’m not gonna run off with the guy-! He’s a very good friend.” “I thought he was your best friend.” “Ralph Anderson.” You smiled gently, brushing your lips to his, as if he didn’t know. “You have gotta be out of your mind.” Of course, once the position was in hand, there was barely a day that went by that Yune didn’t give him a look of significance. Ralph quite often had to kick him under the desk or strategically hit him with a folder. ‘Now isn’t the right time.’ ‘No, now is perfect! Don’t tell me you’re scared!?’ ‘I’m not scared-!’ ‘Good, cuz you faced off against a shapeshifting thing in a Texas cave, you can propose to your partner.’ Ralph’s laugh was choked, ‘How is this less scary than that-!?’

Ralph was a little scared of getting down on one knee. He had no plan. No game play. Heck he didn’t even think he knew your ring size - some detective he was! - and Ralph didn’t think he had the skill to enquire nonchalantly, or steal one from your jewellery box to get measured somewhere without you noticing. And he wanted it to be a surprise for you - another reason why Ralph wanted Yune to keep his damn mouth shut. Either you were bound to overhear, or gossip would get it back to you. But it was his last name. Would you want to change yours? It might have been one letter, sure but… you’d still be taking his name. You’d often said of his last name that it was ‘lazy’ when he told you yours was spelled wrong: ‘Somewhere along the line someone got lazy and decided they couldn’t be doing with that second S.’ ‘Why can’t yours be spelled wrong!?’ ‘Most popular surname in Sweden, definitely not spelt wrong.’ Then you’d look up at him; ‘Or you’re Scottish. Anders-son. Son of Anders. Vs… I think yours is Andrew. With that missing S.’ He’d quirked his eyebrow ‘Something wrong with that-!?’ ‘No.’ Though you gave him a teasing little smirk as you’d mused on it for a minute, ‘I’m still going for that lazy angle!’ Not that Ralph thought that would factor any into your decision to marry him, but it was a conversation that kept flooding his brain as he got more and more anxious about asking you.

Then, suddenly, the perfect idea came to him…

***

You’d had another day visiting smaller ‘crime scenes’ and filing legal paperwork. Overjoyed when Bill kept congratulating you on being the only one who actually did half this stuff yourself. “One of a kind, Y/N, I tell ya!” “Anything for my favourite DA, of course.” “Which is why we gotta work against those idiots in the PD, right?” “Team work!” You grinned, “Although one is about to be the permanent Captain.” “Ah yeah, well, I’m still the DA. So, if he gives you trouble-!” Although Bill’s smile was warm - Ralph and he had their differences in the work place, but would certainly consider each other friends out of it. You laughed, “Oh, I’ll be right over!” Now you were back at the precinct and pretty buzzy with good energy. All your work was done for the day, and there was nothing too strenuous to pick up from the crimes either.

Your new Captain was standing outside, hands on his hips and smile on his face. You stopped in the grass and tilted your head at him. Ralph looked so happy, but also a little shy about it. You wondered what was up. But couldn’t help but think how lovely it was to see him looking like this. “Captain.” You grinned as he crossed to you, “You need me for something?” “Well I have been waiting for you.” “Oh, not long I hope?” “Well, I mean, I guess I’ve been waiting a while but… better now than never.” “What is?” Ralph reached into his jacket pocket and held out a little booklet for you. It looked like a detective badge, although you wore your own on your belt you always liked the ID booklet ones. Maybe you’d start using one more if this was a new one. You knew that your own promotion was imminent, in line with his own. “It’s about time you started spelling your last name right.” That smile on his face was gorgeous, and yet altogether quite indescribable and you couldn’t help but smile back.

A little confused at first, you took it from him delicately, opening it up. At first you noticed the title at the top. Quite correct: you’d been bumped up a rank; that didn’t surprise you, Ralph already had discussed with you that was something he would do if he got the Captain’s position. Then you scanned the rest of the document and paused.

‘Y/N Anderson’. You stared at the name for a good few seconds, even though you knew exactly what this was. Your small smile ended up stretching across your cheeks and you could feel your blush rise as you looked back up at him again slowly. Ralph looked like he was trying to fight a smile until he had the answer, although how he could think he’d even need one was really beyond you. “Yes.” “Yes?” Somehow he looked surprised, even at the confidence in your voice. “YES!” You threw your arms around him, perfectly aware that you’d just shrieked it and you were about to start crying. “God, I love you SO much Ralph Anderson!” Ralph held you close with a laugh, “I mean I don’t have a ring; we’ll have to go shopping. but I-” “Are you kidding!?” You pulled back for a second looking back at your new badge, that wasn’t something you cared about right now, “What were you going for, most original proposal ever!?” “I mean I can get down on one knee and actually ask the question, if you want me to. Heck maybe I should I just--” You shook your head and wiped your eyes, “Just ask me. If you want to ask, you don’t need to. This is… perfect.” Ralph chuckled again, and took a deep breath, “Y/N, will you please let me take that damn ‘S’ out of your last name?” You couldn’t help but cackle, thinking that he might just ask you straight, “You may!” “So you’ll marry me?” He grinned, and instead of answering you pulled him into a kiss. Wrapping your arms around his neck as Ralph pulled your body closer to his. He would change her name too, that significance was not lost on you. If he was your husband, he would be Renée’s step-dad… and maybe he’d get called it regularly. Time would surely tell if Ralph Anderson would get his unspoken wish.

Your making-out in the parking lot had not gone unnoticed by Ralph’s best friend, and Yune’s whistle broke you apart. “Hey! Captain! Did she say yes!?” You both looked to each other and then to him. You were still holding that little booklet in your hand and you looked from Ralph to Yune and back. Ralph’s eyes remained on his friend, grinning although he didn’t answer, arms still around you. Of course Yune knew about this, of course he was in on it. You left your very-new fiancé and sprinted across the parking lot to hug the police lieutenant, very nearly screaming: “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!”

Ralph shook his head watching you almost drag Yune to the ground with your hug, but laughed. Oh, he knew what he was getting himself into alright. He crossed the parking lot to help his friend before he got too smothered. Day 1 of the rest of his life, and that proposal hadn’t been so bad. You had just specifically agreed to take his last name, and Ralph’s heart swelled. If he was a crier, he’d let the happy tears he could feel prickling at his eyes fall. He guessed the jokes would have to change now… Still, he’d trade those jokes for this.

Detective Anderson & Anderson didn’t sound so bad to him, after all.

---

Thank you for reading my precious babies! 💙💙

#Anderson and Andersson Detective Co.#Ralph Anderson #Ralph Anderson x Reader #The Outsider #The Outsider HBO #HBOs The Outsider #Harmony Andersson #(or should that be Harmony Anderson ;) )#Renee Andersson #198 #This time next week we'll be at 200!!!#Harmony and Samuels totally high-fived in that segment but I didn't want to write it in here...#too embarassed...!#BUT you know she called him screaming about this afterwards right?#ALSO can you image Renee when they tell her-!?!#Oh my gosh #Okay I'll write this winter wedding at some point I P R O M I S E #The first few scenes might not seem /so/ important for this but they're important for the wedding I PROMISE

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fan-clan-fun · 4 years

Text

I spent like all day writing this Clan out so please review it!

I’ll do my best!

General

Formation: Rain was a rogue living in the Forestlands of old, and hated seeing cats dying from starvation or Twoleg Treecutters. So he formed a small group of cats, inspired by the Clans of Lightning, Gale, Shade, Torrent and Beyond, taking them to the Rainy Forest.

This is interesting! Im curious about the clans you mentioned, I imagine they have a significant impact on how the culture of this new clan was formed and shaped as well.

Rivals: Not long after Rain's small group left the Forestlands of old, an event that is now called the Rain of Fire took place. The once lush forest burned, and was only stopped when the sky's tears rained down. That area is now known as the Roguelands, or the Rogue Badlands, and while they generally stay in their own territory, they occasionally stray into RainClan's territory.

Im assuming this is a sort of meteor shower? Or a massive wilfire? Either way I can imagine it would deeply scar and affect the clan’s perception of fire and that area as a cursed “badlands.”

Shaping Events: On the day the Rain of Fire took place, the leader of the elders tells of the fire that Firestorm brought and the rain that their ancestors brought. Very few tales of the Clan's founding are told, and there's more told of the Clans of old. The loyal and brave Clan of Lightning, the water-loving Clan of Torrent, the fox-like Clan of Shade, the feisty and fast Clan of Gale, and the long-legged once lost Clan of Beyond.

Ah okay I am assuming now that these are much later stories of the canon clans, I like your interpretation of them! Although I do feel like you could develop more the clan’s relationship with fire based on the Rain of Fire taking place so close to the original founding.

Age: RainClan is quite old, but not to the extent that no cats remember Rainstar and Stormstar, the first two leaders of the Clan.

Heroes and Villains: The selfless founder of RainClan is honored by the currently living cats, and the kits of the Clan strive to be like him. On the opposite side of the spectrum, Firestorm, the cat who allegedly started the Rain of Fire, is despised by all for ruining the lush Forestlands of old.

Map:

Religion

The Clan of Far Above: RainClan's ancestors are known as the Clan of Far Above. Named by their first medicine cat Nettleshimmer, they're much like StarClan. In fact, they can easily contact StarClan.

Im fascinated by the idea that these two are different entities. Does this mean that the canon clans are still out there? Or is Starclan just the spiritual remnants of the old clans, while the Clan of Far Above is the spirits of only Rainclan’s cats?

Influence: The Clan of Far Above is represented in the living world by five trees, one for each of the Clans of old. One of them is an ash tree, with a scent of fire and lightning, representing the Clan of Lightning, and Leafheart, Rainstar's mate and a direct Clan of Lightning descendent. It is known as the Tree of Lightning. Another is a willow tree, with wet bark, planted in water. It represents the Clan of Torrent, and both Stormstar and Rainstar, who are descended from the Clan. It is known as the Tree of Torrent. The tulip tree blows in even the lightest of breezes, representing the Clan of Gale and Breezescratch, a noble scribe and direct descendent of the aforementioned Clan. The Tree of Gale, it is called. In the shade grows the Tree of Shade, a hoptree which represents both the Clan it is named after and Darkthistle, another noble scribe and descendant of this Clan. Lastly is the tallest of them, the Tree of the Beyond, a tall redwood tree. Representing both the forgotten Clan and Cloudfeather, a descendant of the Clan. When a cat comes here, if they need the Clan of Far Above, they will appear directly, although they also visit dreams. Leaders get their five lives here, one from each tree. Along with this, the medicine cat comes here once every moon, alongside the scribes.

Worship: Much like with the Clans of old in the forest territories, every apprentice visits the trees at least once. Any cat can visit them, as long as they have permission from the divine protector.

Its nice that any cat in Rainclan has access to commune with the Clan of Far Above! It still feels like I am missing some information about the canon clans, although at this point I can infer that they are long gone.

Afterlife: In the Clan of Far Above, you appear as the age you were happiest. Kits and apprentices get a warrior name and can appear as adults if they so please. Each rank has dens, and there's also hunting grounds.

Holidays: The holidays are planned by the divine protector (the medicine cats' leader) and kept by them as well. The scribe keeps track of the dates on a calendar of sorts, and they and the divine protector keep track of this. Birthdays of important cats are marked down, as being the ___th day of the ___th moon of the season.

Ooo a writing system! I’d love to hear more about that! But Im also curious... how do they know what cats are important to keep their birthdays recorded? Why dont they record all birthdays? Is there a time from which they count forward? (Like, year 0 or season 0 being the Rain of Fire?)

Ranks

Leadership: The main leader is much like in the groups, however each rank aside from kits has a leader, usually the eldest. The elder leader is known as the advisor, giving advice to the leader with their knowledge. The queen leader is known as the mother, and often helps other queens with their kits. She's basically like Daisy. The warrior leader is usually the deputy, although there's occasionally another cat. They are known as the head warrior, and are usually the head hancho during battles. The apprentice leader is known as the apprentice mentor and is usually the first to get an apprentice when they become warrior. They remind apprentices of their duties, and remind mentors to train their apprentices.

I think Im just a bit confused, so there is one overarching leader, and then each rank also has a leader? That makes sense! And having a leader of apprentices is intriguing (although Im confused as to what you meant by “first to get an apprentice when they become a warrior, does that mean the apprentice leader is an apprentice who has this position or a warrior who is just known for being an excellent mentor?). In any case, having a cat specifically tasked with education and ensuring apprentices are being mentored well is a good thing to have in a clan.

Deputy: Deputies are basically the same as in the canon Clans. They are second in command, and often have meetings with the rank leaders.

Medicine cat: Medicine cats are much like in the Clans of old. In RainClan, they're in charge of celebrations - excluding ceremonies, which the leader is in charge of - and often help the scribes out. The divine protector is in charge of planning the celebrations, while the other medicine cats just decorate and make preparations.

It sounds like there are more than the typical canon two or three medicine cats in the clan, which is pretty cool! Although I do wonder what they do all day if they have assistants and other cats who help do their chores and such for them.

Elders: Cats generally become elders when they're around sixty moons old. The advisor advises the leader on what to do when they need help. Kits often love hearing their stories, although some do not. On the Day of the Rain of Fire, the advisor tells the tale of the Rain of Fire.

Warriors: Warriors are basically just like their canon equivalent, but like the Tribe of Rushing Water, are split into groups. The hunters, as their name suggests, hunt for the Clan. Guards guard the camp at night and often go on patrols. Medical assistants help the medicine cats find herbs, and help if, for example, a medicine cat dies in the middle of their apprentice's training and there's no more medicine cats aside from them. Then they'd help with their training. And switches switch between some or all of these roles. The leader of this rank is the head warrior, who is the head hancho in battle and usually close to retiring, or was a secondary or tertiary choice for the deputy position.

What qualifies a cat to be a switch? Just good skills in multiple areas? Just that certain things need to be done and so some cats are just chosen for the position?

Queens: Kits are either the cats who are expecting or nursing kits, or are nursery helpers. Toms take on this position sometimes if their mate is done nursing their kits and is okay with helping in the nursery. However, their leader of the mother is always a she-cat, and it is the leadership position that changes the most.

Apprentices: Cats are usually apprenticed at anywhere from six to eight moons, although sometimes later due to medical conditions or the leader forgetting. The apprentice mentor usually reminds them of this, and does the same for apprentices about their duties and mentors about their training. This is also when cats are split into their ranks, but they get to choose and pick whichever one they wish to be when they become a warrior.

I should hope a leader wouldnt forget when a kit is supposed to be apprenticed! I suppose the apprentice leader could help to keep a calendar with the scribes, but it seems negligent of a leader to not be aware of the timing and have to rely on others to remind them. In fact it seems like the Apprentice leader from this description carries too much responsibility and expectations, that the other cats in the clan cant remember their own responsibilities. While they should enforce and ensure that apprentices are being properly trained, they shouldnt have to constantly remind mentors when they should be doing training!

Kits: Kits are often cared for by more cats than just the nursery dwellers. Their kin helps often times, giving gifts, and medicine cats always give new mothers and their kits presents, usually fresh-kill, herbs or flowers/feathers. Aside from deputies and scribes, they're the only rank with no leader.

Scribes: Scribes make a map of the territory with various dyes made from flowers and other stuff, and carved from their claws. They also keep track of births, holidays and other such stuff. There can be up to two scribes at once.

The scribes definitely seem like a unique rank! But it does seem like they have minimal duties, so that they would have a decent amount of free time. Maybe it would help if you expanded their duties? Maybe to include tracking family bloodlines or or recording historical events?

Culture

Code of Conduct: The Code of the Clan of Rain is similar to the warrior code, sans the other Clan related rules. However, medicine cats can have kits if they have an apprentice, unless they're the divine protector.

Mates: There is a ceremony especially for cats who decide they want to be together forever.

Leader: "Cats of RainClan, we gather here today to unite these cats. (First cat) is a (trait) (rank), and (second cat) is a (trait) (rank). Now, (first cat), do you vow to love your mate through thick and thin, light and dark, sun and rain?"

First cat (the oldest usually): "I do."

Leader: "And (second cat), do you vow to love (first cat) through thick and thin, light and dark, sun and rain?"

Second cat (usually the youngest): "I do."

(The youngest med. cat brings a rock over from the River of Forever, and the mates both mark it with their claws and whatever items they wish (flowers, feathers, etc), before the med. cat brings it to the River of Forever, where it sits at the end)

If the cats wish to break up, they retrieve the stone and remove the markings. It is a slow and painful process, like break ups in and of themselves.

That is quite the ceremony! It emphasizes the importance of being sure its what you want for a lifetime as mates, as well as the consequences of breaking ties.

Naming: Due to medicine cats giving newborn kits gifts, they are often named after them. The medicine cat Cloverlight was given a clover by Seedflower, and thus was named Cloverkit. But it should be noted that Lightning- and Thunder-, Torrent-, Gale- and Shade- are forbidden prefixes. Rain- and Fire- are also rare, but more common then the Clans of old's prefixes.

Does this mean the other cats in the clan can have a subtle say in the names of newborn kits? Or is it just a sign of respect to name a kit after a medicine cat’s gift? Maybe one per litter? Or all of them?

Ceremonies

I'll just go over the new ones, the other ones are basically the same.

Scribe Ceremony:

Scribe: "Cats of the Clan of Far Above, I bring you my apprentice, (name). He/she/they has learned all that a scribe should, and has made much scribework that will last for seasons to come. (Name), with approval from the Clan of Far Above, from this moment onwards, you shall be known as (new name). The Clan of Far Above honors your (trait) and (trait) and we welcome you as RainClan's newest scribe."

Divine Protector Ceremony:

Leader: "(Name), you have finished your training, and the Clan of Far Above believes that you are the perfect choice to be the Clan's new divine protector. Do you understand the responsibility this position requires, the effort that must be put into it, and that you shalln't be allowed to bare kits?"

Med. cat: "I do."

Leader: "Very well. You are now the divine protector of RainClan."

(Either the youngest or oldest scribe, depending, brings over a necklace with a star like charm on the bottom)

Head Warrior Ceremony:

Leader: "(Name), you have served your Clan well over your many season-cycles of life, and I think you are the optimal choice for head warrior. Do you agree with this decision, and if not, who should be the head warrior?"

Warrior: "I do." OR "I don't, and I believe (name) should be the head warrior."

Leader: "From this moment onwards, (name) shall be the head warrior of RainClan!"

(The youngest or oldest scribe brings over a necklace with the claw of the last head warrior tied on the end)

Apprentice Mentor Ceremony:

Leader: "This apprentice's mentor tells me he/she/they has/have done well, and thus I believe this makes them the perfect choice for apprentice mentor! (Name), until you become a warrior, you shall be the apprentice mentor of the Clan. You will be my top choice for head warrior."

The Mother Ceremony:

Leader: "Cats of the Clan of Far Above, this queen has shown herself/themselves to be a caring queen, and I believe that makes them the optimal choice to be the mother of RainClan. With your approval, they shall be given this carnation necklace made especially by our scribe (scribe name)."

(The Clan of Far Above speaks their approval (literally everytime, they never reject a mother))

Leader: "(Name), until you wish to step down from the position, you shall be RainClan's mother."

(The scribe gives the mother the necklace)

The Advisor Ceremony:

Leader: "(Name), you served our Clan for many seasons, and have been a great elder. If you nor the Clan of Far Above objects, then you shall be the Clan advisor."

(If there are no objections, the advisor is given a necklace with a single glittery gem on it)

I see that you have mentioned necklaces a few times above, where do they come from? Do your clans have the ability to create crafts and items, is it another one of the scribes’ duties (since they seem to already deal with some other unique aspects of clan life).

Thank you for the thought-provoking submission! It looks like you have a decent basis, and it could get even better with some fleshing out and expansion of the ideas you already have!

Hope you enjoyed, and also do you like the ranks I added?

#warrior cats #non-canon clans #clan culture #warriors OC #warriorsworldbuilding #submission

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bat-lings · 5 years

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I love everyone in the batfam no matter how problematic, but the Rhato 25 discourse bothered me. As a Bruce fan I didn't like the complete crucifixion of his character by the Jason diehards. Personally I feel Bruce was justified (the brutality felt like a publicity stunt for shock value, which I didn't like), but seeing these same fans (that hate Bruce for daring to hurt their fav) then celebrate when Jason did the exact same thing to Damian in the teen titans annual. It's so hypocritical.

Oh, Anon, I fear you inadvertently put the finger on the exact thing I despise about current storylines. I agree in that they’re taking the shock value too far and that every character suffers for it.

Frankly, I have more of a problem with what the fans are served than with how they reacted to it.

Fair warning, I’m gonna get very critical with the writing of the two events Anon mentioned. I’d be extra interested to hear about those events from the perspective of someone who actually enjoyed them, but it’s not worth your good mood if reading a post basically trashing said storylines upsets you.

I’ll respectfully disagree about Bruce’s behavior towards Jason. It was excessively brutal and nothing justified it. The scene can be summed up to shock value, to the point it would need to be entirely rewritten to exonerate Bruce. Jason relapsed into lethal force for understandable reasons. Even if we consider nothing excuses Jason; even in an alternative scenario where he’d have shot the Penguin out of the blue, Bruce’s behavior would be plain wrong.

Bruce went after him, assaulted him, and kept on beating him while Jason wasn’t defending himself.

Let’s forget this was Jason for a second. This is not the kind of violence Bruce should resort to against any criminal. I don’t just mean that hey, this isn’t ideal morally speaking, I mean that Bruce Wayne, as a character, as the man who was always written to believe in redemption/rehabilitation, as the man who willed never to use lethal or even unnecessary force, can’t do this and pretend to be remotely what Bruce’s character is supposed to represent. I hate it every time Bruce is written to use that kind of empty violence, preboot or reboot. Miller went down that road too and it never fulfilled my idea of entertainment.

Then you add on the fact that Jason’s his son, and it makes it all so much worse. Bruce legit puts the blame on Jason, not only during the confrontation (“I told you if you left me it’d be your choice”), but also in a later issue when Lobdell serves us a disastrous attempt at a reconciliation scene. “I love you but you deserved a kick in the ass.” Like, I don’t think Lobdell could’ve portrayed a more abusive father-figure if he wanted to.

As a comparison, have similar confrontations between Bruce and Dick in preboot.

[Batman (1940) #600]

So here there’s an actual fight. Dick is actively participating rather than being used as Bruce’s punching-ball. Power-wise, they’re equals.

You want a true equivalent to the scene between Jason and Bruce, where Dick suffers from a power-imbalance + Bruce being toxic?

[New Titans (1988) #55]

Note how it doesn’t go further than a punch because it’s bad enough that way and doesn’t need to escalate further to drive the narrative home. There’s no “I love you but you deserved a punch” bullshit later on either.

Even in Teen Titans: Year One where Bruce was particularly terrible (too much imo), he’s brainwashed when he hits Dick and nothing in the story/framing exonerates Bruce for his global behavior.

Those confrontations had a place in their narratives other than shock value. Bruce’s descent after Jason’s death, his mental state in Murderer/Fugitive. They illustrate how fucked up Bruce is at a specific moment due to specific events and context. They’re not casually dismissed afterwards by a hug and a dubious line. And again, they don’t require Bruce to beat Dick half to death to drive their point home.

By the way, this is reconciliation.

[Batman (1940) #605]

This is a component of the circle of abuse.

[Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) #27]

“I love you. If only you weren’t so stubborn, you wouldn’t deserve an occasional kick in the ass. Like when I inflicted you severe physical trauma. But I love you anyway. Aaah, the woes of father-son relationships!”

There was no narrative reason for Bruce to take it that far with Jason in rhato. It’s just physically more violent and emotionally less impactful, because it’s so damn cheap and because it tries to pass abuse for a normal familial dissension that can be cured with a hug. I can’t get emotionally engaged with that kind of writing.

It’s a reboot, it’s entitled to change characters, but it’s simply not a Bruce I recognize nor one whose existence I’m particularly eager to acknowledge.

As for the Jason-Damian confrontation…

I don’t care that Jason didn’t want to fight and tried so hard to de-escalate the situation until Damian pulled out that mystery drama-box. I don’t care that Damian’s a trained fighter. Frankly, I don’t care about the specifics. At the end of the day, an adult beat the shit out of a child. A child who was framed in earlier appearances to be his little brother. A writer/editorial team/whoever the hell made the conscious choice to put those characters in the specific situation where an adult would beat the shit of a child family member.

You know, for all that I hate TT#29 for its cheap violence (and Jason’s less than ideal portrayal), it at least had the decency to oppose two characters of roughly the same age. And in this continuity, Jason was revived to be a villain. I may not like it but it’s expected that he acts villainous towards the fam, or Tim here. Plus Tim and Jason were never ever portrayed as brothers in post-crisis. They’re strangers. Them beating each other simply doesn’t have the same significance.

Have another preboot parallel where neither perpetrators are villains.

[Red Robin #14]

Here the writer puts Tim in a situation where he has to defend himself against a ten-year-old. There’s a punch, and then the violence stops. That’s it. Much like the preboot Dick-Bruce confrontations, it doesn’t need to be taken further. The story delivers its point without any ten-year-old getting beaten senseless by an older ally.

Seriously, how does this…

[Batman (2016) #16]

…exist in the same continuity as this?

[Teen Titans Annual 1 (2019)]

How is this a good way to portray familial dissensions/confrontations of any kind?

You’re the writer. You decide if the 20 something is gonna throw hands with the 13 year old. You decide how the father figure reacts to the son’s actions. You decide how far each confrontation goes. You decide whether two characters that were explicitly portrayed as brothers are gonna bleed each other out. You decide whether the father figure is abusive. You decide what happens, how it happens, how it’s resolved, and how every element is framed.

Physical violence is just another narrative tool that should be used to construct a story. You can’t just throw it in, dial it up to 11, and hope it’ll make your scene impactful. It just proves you don’t know how to write a vivid scene without relying on cheap tricks.

Anon, I get your frustration, I don’t like what’s done of Bruce either. I made a post about his parental failures in preboot ( bat-lings.tumblr .com/post/180901354160/do-you-think-bruce-was-a-bad-father-im-starting); none of them ever reached rhato’s caricatural empty brutality. Bruce is less and less well received by fans as he’s sometimes instrumentalized in sequences that don’t fit his character. It’s not fair on him.

But I can’t seem to disconnect with what we are given long enough to worry about how we react to it. And to be fair I’ve seen as many posts hating on Jason’s recent actions than hating on Bruce’s.

Tbh bad writing/ooc-ness aside there’s little anyone can say to exonerate either character here. The fans are reacting vividly because they’re faced with a story that has little else to sell other than vivid brutality. We all go “gasp!”, pick sides, and that’s it. It’s hard to breed interesting discussion among fans with that configuration.

The good news is, each of those characters have seen better days, and not everything in reboot is as bad as the above sequences. Also we have fanfictions :D

#jason todd #damian wayne #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #batfamily #meta #asks #zae chatters

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razorblade180 · 5 years

Text

Patriarchal Prison

[Schnee Manor]

*the middle of the night*

Whitley:Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!

Klein:* bust into room* Master Whitley, what is the- oh my....

*room snowing and Whitley incased in ice. Ice rods from his arms connect to the ceiling*

Whitley:*Panicing* I can’t move! W...what is going on!?

Klein:Sir please come down. I’ve seen this before.

Whitley:You what?

Klein:*Walking away*

Whitley:Don’t leave! I need help.

Klein:Don’t worry, I know just what to do. Luckily your sister is home.

*five minutes later*

Weiss:*night gown* Sigh, Whitley what do you-oh! Well would you look at that. You’re sleep freezing *sees snow on the ground* bout time. Winter would love to see this.

Whitley:Sleep freezing? This is normal?

Weiss:Your semblance has finally unlocked. It happened to Winter and I when we awakened ours. It’s just proof you’re growing up.

Whitley:Well how do I get out?

Weiss:hmmm, Klein can you prepare two hot chocolates and bring my sword. Keep the hot chocolate on the stove.

Klein:Right away *leaves the room*

Weiss:*inspecting the him* Are these rods? Pillars maybe? I got to say you really did your room a number ; it’s freezing.

Klein:*hands her sword and leaves*

Weiss:Thank you Klein. *creates a heat wave*

*almost entire room returns to normal*

Weiss:That’s more like. *trying to warm up*

Whitley:*still trapped*Aren’t you forgetting something important?

Weiss:Oh I can’t unfreeze you.

Whitley:What!?

Weiss:*points to glyph under him* That glyph is keeping you like this. Fire dust won’t really work; also I don’t want to burn your room down.

Whitley:*struggling* Are you saying I’m trapped like this!?

Weiss:Until your aura runs out; I can unfreeze you then. But.....

Whitley:But what?

Weiss:You’ll freeze again next time you fall asleep. Only you can stop this permanently by stopping the glyph by yourself.

Whitley:Well aren’t you helpful?

Weiss:Hey, consider yourself lucky. Winter had to figure all this stuff out alone and had to get Klein to smash her jail bars when she went through this. She almost got frostbite bite until she figured it out.

Whitley:Jail bars?

Weiss:That’s what she kept making every night. A small jail cell with our crest on it. None of us made the same thing.

Whitley:What did you keep making?

Weiss:....A bird cage.

Whitley:That’s....random.

Weiss:Not really *somber* Our creations represent our mindsets; the way we feel about father.

Whitley:oh...so her jail cell was...

Weiss:Her way of calling her time here a prison. She only got out when she learned to move past that idea.

Whitley:*examines himself* (I know exactly what I’m in...) Wait, I get a jail cell. A bird cage though, that’s a bit strange.

Weiss:Oh, I guess I never told you huh? Figures, we’re only now starting to get on good speaking terms.

Whitley:Told me what exactly?

Weiss:....The reason I started to hate you.

Whitley:......

Weiss:*takes a deep breath* You may or may not remember this but either way you should know I’m in the wrong here.

Whitley:Okay.....

Weiss:Your fifth birthday was coming up and like any little kid you were excited. *chuckles* I remember Klein constantly had to tell you that lie about little boys who sit still get more presents.

Whitley:*small smile* I remember it didn’t work and I tried sneaking into cellar to see if anyone hid them down there. I also remember tumbling down though steps; hard.

Weiss:*Wincing* You scraped your knee really bad. I ended up picking you up and carrying you back up because “you thought it was shattered.” Always so dramatic.

Whitley:*red* Whatever....I was basically five.

Weiss:You kept crying and crying even after you got patched up. I finally got fed up with it and started singing you a song to distract you. It ended up making you feel better.

Whitley:It was the first time I heard you sing. You caught me by surprise. I remember wanting to hear it again so I- ...... oh

Weiss:When your birthday finally came around you only wanted me to sing happy birthday. I would’ve said no but father was there and you would’ve cried. So I sang Happy Birthday; in front of him, his advisors, and the rest of snobs trying to get friendly with him.

Whitley:That was the first time you ever sang in public wasn’t it?

Weiss:Yep, and they liked it just as much or more than you. I’m typical opportunist fashion, father saw how people adored the voice of Weiss Schnee. By next morning, I’m taking singing lessons everyday. Just so he can use my talent to gain profit; I was basically his little canary. Singing to draw attention.

Whitley:Hence the bird cage....

Weiss:For years I blamed you and your constant whining for things to go your way for my situation. It wasn’t right though; all you wanted was to hear your big sis sing and it’s not like he wouldn’t have found out eventually. I despised you for enjoying my talent like everyone else; I’m sorry.

Whitley:*sigh* I...can’t really blame you. I’d be pretty pissed too in all honesty. We’ll call it even.

Weiss:Even?

Whitley:Your tenth birthday; the fight between mother and father because you wanted him to show and he didn’t.

Weiss:I remember....

Whitley:That was the last day we saw any motherly love. I always blamed you for her phoning it in on us. Even though I probably shouldn’t have.

Weiss:You were eight; of course you’d be upset. I was so upset I even blamed myself over it.

Whitley:Geez, our parents really are something huh?

Weiss:If we can even really call them that.

*both chuckle slightly*

Weiss:I least we had Winter right?

Whitley:*reserved* Actually you had Winter. Too you young to really interact remember? She was already heading to Atlas by the time I actually started to matter to this house.

Weiss:And then I went to Beacon. I really left you all alone didn’t I? *rubs his face* some big sister I turned out to be.

Whitley:Eh I wasn’t exactly being the best younger sibling. This manor really is a prison though; I can’t fault you from leaving.

Weiss:Well I’m here now at least. *smiles*

Whitley:Yeah, you are aren’t you? *smiles* too bad you can’t do anything to help my current situation.

Weiss:Oh yeah, *pulls on Ice rod* still not budging.

Whitley:That reminds me, How’d you open your bird cage.

Weiss:Simple, Winter and my fans showed me something real important. Something you showed me on your fifth birthday.

Whitley:?

Weiss:It doesn’t matter if he profits off of me. I’m using my gift to cause real smiles; that’s something he can never take. Just like that, the bird cage faded.

Whitley:That simple huh? Just owning what you have?

Weiss:Winter realized she didn’t have to be bound by his rules, I took back owner ship of my talents, and you...*looks at him*

Whitley:.....

Weiss:When will you realize you’re not his puppet to control. *looks at the rods* those are supposed to strings aren’t they?

Whitley:It’s easy to reclaim a talent someone uses Weiss. What’s not easy is looking in a mirror and accepting just how much you look like the person you hate the most.

Weiss:.....

Whitley:Everyday is a constant reminder. No matter what I say or do it’s “Just like Jacques.” I can’t stand it

“You shouldn’t have to”

Winter: *walking in with the hot chocolate* People are always gonna judge and compare. It’s important to not let it weigh you down. Or bind you in this case.

Weiss:Winter!?

Whitley:Why are you here?

Winter:Isn’t it obvious? To make sure you don’t freeze. I took a job close to home cause I figured this would be happening soon.

Klein:She rushes over as soon as I called her.

Whitley:....

Winter:*looks around the room* to be honest I was really hoping that at least you would thrive in this house. Guess we’re all sick of his influence.

Weiss:He’s really stuck in there. The glyph doesn’t even look like it’ll stop anytime soon.

Winter:*staring at Whitley* It doesn’t have to. He’s gonna breakout right now. First try.

Whitley:Like that will happen. Even you-

Winter:You’re not me are you? You’re not any of us. You’re Whitley Schnee. You’re more intelligent than I was at your age and more in control of your feelings then Weiss was.

Weiss:She’s right you know? Most importantly though, your leagues better than Father. You might look like him but that’s the only thing. He doesn’t even have a semblance.

Winter:Or the humility to see his own faults. *sips out of mug* He doesn’t even like cocoa. *holds out a mug* what about you.

Whitley:....Honestly you two.... *reaches for mug; breaking the ice apart* who doesn’t like cocoa? *sips* it’s basically the best thing for a cold house.

Winter:See? Completely different in every way. Told you that you can do it.

Whitley:Thanks...both of you.

Weiss:Don’t sweat it. We’ve all been there.

Whitley:I’m guessing it’s time to actually call it night this time....

Winter:Well...I’m already over here and have nothing planned.

Weiss:I’m actually not tired anymore so... maybe we should just spend sometime together. Haven’t done that in years.

Whitley:Klein?

Klein:*smiles* I’ll make more beverages.

Whitley:Actually I was gonna say go rest. We can take of everything from here.

Klein:Why I do believe you can. *closes door* hehehe *looks at an old picture* I do believe you can indeed.

#rwby #whitley schnee #weiss schnee #winter schnee #schneeblings #rwby klein

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treatian · 4 years

Text

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Dark Curse

Chapter 77: A Pain in the Heart

In his journey, there were moments, long stretches of boredom where nothing happened. In contrast, there were also times that he felt as though he was in a carriage that was racing out of control. It felt like the world was spinning faster than usual, that there was far too much happening at just one time. Disorienting as it was, it was that feeling that drove him to feel like he was getting closer to his end goal. He operated best in those conditions, and so it was the feeling that he longed for most of all. But the space in between…that was the difficult part.

The thing about possessing a power that was not his own meant that it gave him information he didn't have, but also kept him guessing. He could see the future, but he didn't always have a clear understanding of it. Sometimes that could be an annoyance, but sometimes it gave him just enough of an edge to outwit others while still keeping life interesting. He never knew when someone he knew was important was going to pop up in his life, or in the life of one of his targets...again.

Snow White was on the run. It wasn't long after her father's funeral that Regina had hired a man, a hunter, to take Snow White into the forest and kill her. But Regina had put her trust in the wrong person, and that poor hunter had put too much faith in the death that awaited him if he returned without Snow White's heart. He'd let the Princess go, and Regina hadn't killed the poor Hunter, but rather taken his heart. She kept him on staff as a guard primarily, but the entire Kingdom knew she kept him as her plaything on the side. Poor fool. From what he understood of the lad, there would have been no harsher punishment than capture.

As for Snow White, she'd run off, escaped to the farthest corner of the Kingdom, it was necessary now that Regina was hunting her. With Leopold dead and Snow on the run, there was no other choice but for her to ascend the throne. She used her magic flagrantly now, striking fear into the heart of all who might try to oppose her. And she spread rumor after rumor of the crimes of Snow White, accusing her of murdering her own father, treachery against the crown, and stealing from her own people. Of course, the Kingdom didn't truly believe her. Snow White had grown up before them, and many remembered how years ago she'd saved them from a bandit, the one that Regina had hired. But it didn't matter. Regina had the power now, and she used it beautifully to finally take the revenge she'd longed for from her step-daughter and hold the Kingdom in her sway. Her mother would be proud.

But Snow White continued to elude the Queen. She was clever with a bow and arrow, good with which berries she could eat and which she couldn't, and she'd been taken in by a family on the edge of the Kingdom, a family the likes of which he'd never anticipated seeing again…

"Well…hello again Granny…" he muttered as the watched the three of them sit down to eat one night. "My oh my, how you've grown."

It had been a long time since he'd see the werewolf who had helped him to acquire that useless tea set of his. She had been important, but he'd never known how and he'd never understood why his visions always only ever referred to her as "Granny". She'd been in her late teens then, maybe early twenties, now she was much older. If he was honest, it wasn't her that gave it away, but the brunette who was sitting across from Snow White. Not only was she the spitting image of the "Granny" he'd once known, but she was also wearing a very familiar red cape. He'd smiled then, the beginnings of a complicated relationship that would span decades. It was interesting.

Of course, sometimes his visions left him no room for shock or surprise. He kept an eye on Jefferson and his new, ever-growing wife, looking for any sign of temptation or hint that he might return to his old ways. But alas, the only thing he ever saw was the birth of his daughter, just as he predicted. Jefferson wrote to him not long after that, informing him of what he already knew, and that the girl was called Grace. He responded by sending him a new hatbox, one with the ability to block the powers of his magical hat from being sensed by others. Jefferson, in his newfound stupidity, would probably think it was kind, but part of him hoped he'd see it for what it was, a gift to represent the burying of something truly spectacular.

That year, at Bae's birthday, he lit a candle and resolved to move on, to forget about Jefferson and the waste that he was, and focus on moving forward. There was still much to do. He had to find his curse. He had to keep watch over Snow White, a far more difficult task now that Regina grew more bloodthirsty by the moment. He had to look after her Prince Charming and ensure they meet one day now that she was of age to carry a little Princess, or in this case, a Savior.

He started his research looking at True Love, the True Love that he knew in his heart James, or Prince Charming, as the Seer insisted, and Snow White would share. But children born of True Love often weren't Saviors at all, simply very magical beings. Saviors were rare. Saviors could have magic but also could not. They were not the result of True Love as magic was in people, they were the result of a curse. A special child born by fate with the ability to defeat a curse. How was he supposed to ensure that this girl, whoever she may be, became the Savior, specifically to his curse. That was the question…

And that was the moment he first felt another problem…one that he should not have.

Chest pain.

It interrupted his genius, stopped his thoughts, silenced the Seer in his head.

It felt like…like a squeeze. He had never had his heart removed from his chest and squeezed, but he imagined that was what it would feel like if he had. He was the Dark One, he'd been the Dark One for a long time, he was no stranger to pain, he got headaches and odd twinges now and again, he simply applied his magic to his ailments and was better. But this was no ailment…there was something magical to the pain.

The pain was gone almost as soon as it had arrived. He supposed if he were mortal he would have ignored it, explained it away as some kind of normal bodily ailment, but that thrill of magic haunted him. He searched the Chronicles, looking for any explanation he could find. There was none. No one mentioned such a pain in their chests, no one talked about ailments they couldn't control.

It was getting ridiculous, he had work to do, he didn't have time to be spending every waking breath on this, he needed to get back to his work on the curse, his research on Saviors…any yet every time he turned away from such a pain, something inside warned him, something inside poked and prodded and whispered that it wasn't nothing, but something. There was nothing in the Chronicles, but he had the sensation he knew, if only he ask the right person, he might find something helpful.

He hadn't been out to Camelot in years. Though he hadn't given up on the tasks Nimue had given him entirely, he'd been devoted in the years since Baelfire left to finding him again. He'd been watching the Apprentice, should the opportunity arise that he might kill the bastard child, he would. Until that opportunity arose, however, that curse and getting back to Baelfire was his main focus. The Dark Ones all seemed to accept that, they'd left him alone ever since the night Bae had gone, leaving him to hear their voices as his own these days, but for once the nagging voice in the back of his head over this pain in his chest wasn't his own, but one he'd not seen in decades.

"Nimue…" he muttered, standing alone on the dark cliff. He was where it had all begun, the place the Dark One was born, the place that all Dark One's felt closest to their power. She'd always promised she would be close if he needed her, and so she was. All he'd had to do was come out here and summon her forth with the dagger that now reflected her own name.

"It's been a long time, Rumplestiltskin."

"Not long enough," he growled. She stood there, still as ever in her long robes. He was pacing and pacing back and forth when he usually much preferred to be still himself. But he couldn't help it. He would much rather do this in his tower, with his wheel before him so he could spin. Instead, he was alone in the dark woods at night talking to a woman he'd grown to despise for no reason in particular other than the fact that she was holding this over his head. She knew something, or one of the others did, but it wasn't in the Chronicles! Why wasn't it in the Chronicles?!

"Our meeting is of your own choice," she snapped knowingly. "If you don't want me here-"

"You've something to tell me," he interrupted. "You have something you want to share you just won't do it…if this is how I have to have a conversation with you these days then so be it."

"Such fire," she smirked. "It would seem you've come a long way from the scared little spinner we once encountered. You've been the Dark One the longest now…congratulations."

"I don't want your appreciation," he snapped, pacing again. "I want your information. I want to know what you know."

"Still so disrespectful. Still without a care for who you speak to."

He stopped walking. Maybe that was it, maybe that was a reason that she bothered him. Even when he had just become the Dark One, her spirit had always been so haughty. The other voices had always bowed down to her like she would kill them if she could, but now that he held the title of the Dark One longer than anyone and that included her, he'd learned a few things. If anything…she was second to him.

"You are nothing…" he stated, looking her dead in the eye. "You are but a fragment, a memory of a curse left behind. You are knowledge and nothing more. It is you who are subordinate to me."

Her gaze narrowed, though her face never flinched or barely moved at all he could feel the anger at him gathering in the pit of his stomach, but he wouldn't be moved. He didn't care if the others never spoke to her in such a way. He wasn't afraid of her like he once had been. She couldn't hurt him even if she wanted to. And even if she could, as the carrier of her curse, it was in her best interest not to.

"Have care the way you speak, Rumplestiltskin. Mind your thoughts."

"I'm not afraid of you as the others are. Mind your own thoughts. The pain in my chest, you know something about it, but nothing is written in the Chronicles. If this is how I have to speak to you about what you know, then so be it. Tell me…"

"The pain you feel is because of your age," she answered immediately and without emotion. Because she was a memory. She belonged to him, not the other way around. He'd summoned her, and now she had no choice but to answer because he willed her to.

"Explain," he ordered.

"The pain you feel has only ever been felt by three other Dark Ones, myself included. The pain is in your heart, Rumplestiltskin…how foolish you never thought to check it."

Check his own heart…pull it from his chest, offer someone the opportunity to take it and control him like the dagger…a foolish notion that was. It was a notion that had gotten at least two of his former Dark Ones killed. He wasn't about to repeat their mistakes.

"What's wrong with my heart?"

"Let's see if you can answer that yourself…the hearts you pull from the chests of your victims aren't real hearts."

"No, they're magical representations of their soul."

"Red is granted to good hearts, and black goes to…"

His skin felt tight. It tingled. His aunts…in his youth they'd told him a story, one about a child who did wicked deed after wicked deed while his brother did good deed after good deed. The brother who did good deeds ended up with a heart of gold, the one who did bad deeds…

"His heart turned black and cracked in two. Funny what passes for a children's tale sometimes, isn't it?" Nimue questioned with something like casual amusement. "Amusing" wasn't exactly the word he'd use.

"I'm the Dark One. I'm immortal. I can't die as the child in the story."

"No one ever mentioned death, Rumplestiltskin. And you may be immune to a great many things, but a black heart isn't one of them."

"Stop talking in riddles."

"Ah, but it's what so many of us are good at, aren't we! Riddles are practically our first language."

It said something about how angry he was that he couldn't bring himself to roll his eyes at her. If he could, he would have raced forward and squeezed her neck beneath his palm to get the words out of her. As it was, all he had to do was glare at her like she'd once glared at him.

"Tell me what it means…"

The First Dark One smirked at him. "See if you can work it out for yourself. Dark as we Dark Ones are, it is those little flecks of red left within us that keep us weak. And those weaknesses are what keeps us human. Without those, without a single flicker of humanity left...why, then we'd truly become-"

"A monster," he realized. It wasn't the word that set his heart pounding, but Nimue's response, her build-up to it. That woman, if he could even call her that, was truly wicked. She hated the human parts of her and hated weakness, but if even she thought that the end result would be bad then...it would be bad. Very, very bad.

"It's nothing I'd worry about, for now, Rumplestiltskin," she shrugged. "The curse does take a great toll on the heart, but you are still many decades away from a completely black heart. Until that day comes, if it ever does for no Dark One has ever lived to see that day, you can manage your pain with magic."

"And when the day comes that I can't," he insisted, ignoring her jab about not living long enough to see it. All he cared about was living long enough to see Baelfire, he couldn't risk not making it long enough for that at least.

Nimue sighed. Finally, she took her first steps off of the platform she'd been on, the forge where Excalibur had been created and broken. "Toward the end of his human existence, Merlin worked on a potion. At first, I believe he worked on it with the hope it might make me back into the woman I'd once been for him, but in the end, he created it, I believe, to heal his own heart. He had hoped to take it the night before he faced me but couldn't bring himself to the coward. He always did believe that pain had its purpose. It made him a sap, and now…he lives on making sap, how perfectly ironic."

"The potion, how do you know about it? You want me to break into Merlin's tower to get his notes, but if this was after you left, then how do you know it exists."

"Because the Elixir of the Wounded Heart, as it came to be known, was stolen. It was removed from the tower by the Apprentice, stolen, and changed hands several times. The last Dark One who thought he might have need of it tracked it to Oz."

"Oz."

"He had no means to reach it…perhaps you do…as the oldest your reach extends so much farther than any of our own ever did."

Indeed. And one of the portals that Jefferson had left him would take someone to Oz and return it. He only needed to locate the bottle.

"And this Elixir…it'll help the problem."

"As I've said Rumplestiltskin 'the problem', if it ever comes to pass, is decades away. But if there is any hope for you, then that would be it."

"And there are no copies of the potion? No way to recreate it."

"If any exist they lie with the Apprentice or are kept safely tucked away in Merlin's Tower. If you went after the Apprentice, like I asked-"

"I have no time for chasing your demons," he insisted, setting his jaw. "I'll handle the Apprentice in my own time, in my own way, until then I will find a way to see my son again. As for my heart and locating the Elixir…now there's the problem with all the rest of you that never made it this far…you have no vision for the future."

#Rumbelle #Rumple #Rumpelstiltskin #Dark One #Nimue #Merlin #Evil Queen #Regina #Snow White #Granny #Red Riding Hood #ouat fanfiction #fanfic #ouat

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jj-ktae · 5 years

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Millennials - Part 4 -

Title: Millennials Genre: Fluff, romance Pairing: Kim Yugyeom x You Summary: Life is made of stages and each of them is a hard push on the back, forcing you to forge ahead. You’re facing your biggest crisis, and then there’s him, who lives from day to day. Of course he does, he is just a kid. Words: 4749 Warning: Small age difference. Yugyeom x Noona Reader.

Check my masterlist for previous chapters!

Part IV

You don’t know how to deal with yourself. Most of the time, you know how to handle sticky situations, stress, or even yelling customers. So far you did great, dodging the bullets sent your way with little to no difficulty. 

But that dress is too tight for a simple drink downtown.

“What, you don’t like it?” Naya enters your living-room with more clothes and toss them on the couch. “I think it suits you.”

You puff, hair flying away from your frustrated face. You’re not sure you can walk around wearing that. “Aren’t we overdoing it? It’s just-”

“It’s a date. You’re supposed to make yourself pretty for a date.” Your friend’s voice makes you groan louder, hands on your hips in front of the mirror.

It’s odd to consider this whole thing a date. Naya can’t stop nagging you about how pretty you have to be and how you should be kind and receptive to Yugyeom. She already teased the shit out of you for accepting, now she is going on and on about how you should apply makeup or how short your dress has to be.

You don’t want to wear makeup and you certainly don’t want to wear a tight dress.

She doesn’t seem to get the whole concept of being natural so you play along, not in the mood to crush her hopes and tell her you won’t be wearing anything too fancy as it doesn’t reflect your personality. She would insist, though, because ‘you can’t go wearing those lame jeans and dirty sneakers. Level up for that kid!’

What the hell does she mean by ‘level up’? Yugyeom is a boy who doesn’t seem to be into fancy and shiny stuff, which shouldn’t even matter because you don’t plan on seducing him. It’s a date for everyone else but you, even though your mind screams at you to just let it go for one evening and enjoy. You sigh loudly, pulling on the fabric to make it longer.

“I don’t think he expects me to be this…glamourous.” You try one last time, checking the clock on your living-room’s wall. “Also, I have to go soon.”

Naya clicks her tongue, finally giving up and aiming for a casual outfit. “This.” She shakes another piece of clothing, this time longer and thicker. “Is that fine with you, boring girl?”

You eye the deep blue clothes, tilting your head. Finally, some normal outfit.

You still don’t know why you agreed. You want to find an explanation to such a weird behaviour but you know there’s nothing more to say.

Against every attempt to lie at your stubborn self, you conclude that you agreed because it didn’t sound like a bad idea. There’s no reason to reject him, after all. You tell yourself that you hate him and everything he represents, but that doesn’t mean you have to crush him and his candid hopes.

Maybe it’s because he gives you attention. Maybe your conflicted feelings come from both his bubbly behaviour which you despise and his caring side which stirs your interest unwillingly.

You can’t deny your behaviour changed.

It makes you go back on full cold mood sometimes, when you notice your own body warming up to his presence. It’s a mere need for validation you think, it’s nothing romantic so you refuse to call this whole thing a date.

The scariest part lies in the fear of him being disappointed by your insignificant existence.

Yugyeom texted you two days ago, asking if you were free tonight. He had a few days off because of important exams and explained they would end today. You accepted, trying your best not to chuckle at how clumsily he writes all his messages.

This morning he sent you a very intimidating “I can’t wait for tonight, noona.” Which turned you muted and resulted in leaving him on read.

Naya’s voice echoes in the room and it feels like a huge bell destroying your eardrum.

“I’m coming!”

Yugyeom doesn’t usually panic. He had dates with pretty and funny girls in the past, but never was he so stressed about a mere evening with you.

He hates himself for being so shy around you, his hopeless love crushing every attempt at being somewhat normal. Yugyeom is not normal in front of you and it scares him how easily you would end him with a simple remark. He then does his best to make that date perfect despite his poor competences.

Yugyeom goes for what he thinks is the easy route and asks for advises.

But as he stands in front of his friends, he starts questioning his life choices.

Bambam introduces the situation like he is a dumb guy, a fool who can’t be saved. “Kim Yugyeom, 21, asked his crush out and she said yes. The date is tonight but look at him,” His thin arms shake around him, like he is about to make him disappear. “he won’t make it without us.”

Yugyeom shakes his head, choosing to ignore instead of beating his best friend up. “No one asked you.” He sits the opposite direction so he can face his two other friends.

Maybe Jackson and Jinyoung aren’t any better.

Jinyoung doesn’t know how to stop being a bastard, while Jackson offers way too much to anyone who’s willing to even smile at him.

“Why so anxious? She said yes, right?” Said Jinyoung starts, arms crossed over his chest like he owns the whole building. “Be natural.”

Jackson scoffs, getting up and everyone knows he is going to be noisy from the way his mouth opens. “Let’s prepare you a little bit. Jinyoung, don’t tell him to be natural when your last crush ran out of your store, crying.”

Bambam chuckles, now twirling around the trio while whistling.

Jinyoung hums, unimpressed. “Says the guy who gave all his savings to a girl who told him she needed it for her mother’s hospital bill. Yeah Jackson, let’s all follow your disgusting and stupid gullibility.”

Jackson gasps, pointing an angry finger at his friend while Yugyeom closes his eyes in frustration. “She told me she loved me!”

Bambam stops to snap his fingers at the pair, his body now against the couch where Yugyeom is close to having a very dangerous nervous breakdown. “Why did you ask these two? Even google would provide better advices.” He whispers, shrugging.

Yugyeom groans, getting up. “Forget it. I thought you’d be of any help but I guess I’ll just suck it up and do as I please.

Both Jinyoung and Jackson stop. “No!”

Yugyeom freezes, bewildered.

“Joke aside, stop freaking out. She agreed so don’t worry about messing things up. Talk about yourself but not too much, show interest but not too much, be a gentleman, laugh at her jokes and don’t make the situation awkward. Do you really need us for that?” Jinyoung sighs, lifting a hand toward Bambam who is busy playing on his phone. “You, get me something to drink.”

Bambam snorts, getting up and whispering about bossy friends.

Jackson nods, face now serious. “Do you have condoms?”

Yugyeom turns red with embarrassment. “What? Why? Can we not talk about sex like you’re my parents?” “Safety first! Get prepared for any outcome.” His friend continues, not the least bothered.

Jinyoung slaps his arms, slightly offended and looking nauseous. “I don’t want to know either and I don’t think walking around carrying a pack of condoms helps in conveying honest feelings, Jackson.”

“Fine. Suit yourself.”

Yugyeom lets Jackson pout while Bambam comes back with a freshly made coffee and a straight-out of the dry-cleaning outfit.

“Here. Black for you. Wear that turtleneck, it’ll make you look older than these weird stripped shits you wear. If I were you I’d show my tattoos but well, suit yourself.” Bambam lets the clothes fall on Yugyeom who is torn between being thankful and smack his friend’s head.

He doesn’t know why he asked for help but somehow, he feels relaxed from all the bullshit he just heard. Yugyeom gathers the tiny bits of courage left in him to get prepared at Bambam’s place and is extra careful when he styles his hair, opting for a laid-back style with enough fashion to make it look like he isn’t a boring guy.

He goes out of the bathroom, anxiously looking at his friends. “I’m ready.”

You don’t expect Yugyeom to be waiting in front of the brasserie but he is there, hands deep into his long coat’s pockets and leaning against the wall. He doesn’t see you immediately, too concentrated on whatever is happening across the street to notice your approaching form, small and anxious.

“Am I late?” You startle him, body now as straight as an I.

He lifts his arms in a soft protest, head shaking. “No, no. I came early.” He stops then, finally noticing your obvious effort – and you totally blame Naya for this – at makeup. “You look different, noona.”

He inhales, heart fluttering at the sight of you and if he didn’t know better he would have showered you with compliments already.

But somehow, he knows that won’t work with you.

You can only nod, somewhat conscious of your appearance and cursing your best-friend for making you stand out when you only live to blend in. Yugyeom coughs, obviously awkward yet determined to take the best out of this evening and turns around, aiming for the door.

The place is not as busy as you thought it would be. It looks fancy and simple, like these places they show in documentaries about cool kids enjoying night-life the posh way. You look at the paintings and decoration, a mix of renaissance and modern furniture giving off soft Italian vibes. Yugyeom is two steps ahead of you, eyes scanning the area as he stops to talk to one of the waiter.

“Follow me.” The thin guy walks, hands busy with a bottle and glasses, toward a semi-circular table. “I’ll be right back with the menus.” The seat follows the table’s pattern, circling it with deep green padded velvet and sending off intimate vibes wrapped in golden, tiny lights.

Yugyeom pinches his lips, forcing a smile as he leans to speak. “Is this okay for you?”. It looks awfully romantic but even though he loves it and wouldn’t mind snuggling next to you, he knows you can run away at any moment.

Yugyeom doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.

He had planned this out in his head a million times. He knew what to do and not to do, how to behave so you won’t hate him even more, what to talk about so you won’t feel bored. He doesn’t want it all ruined right from the start.

You look up from the table, meeting an expectant Yugyeom who is already taking a step back to let you sit. “It’s fine. I like it here.” It’s true. You do like this table. It’s not in the middle of the restaurant so no one walks by and it’s quiet without it being suffocating – the soft music definitely helps filling the blanks. Yugyeom smiles when you approve and you force yourself not to shiver when his hand falls on your back to lead you to the seat.

It’s still so unusual of him to be taking the lead. It makes you see him differently, almost ten years older than he is and you don’t want to think about how manly he appears to be, now.

But all your resolve evaporates like steam when he takes his jacket off and sits next to you, revealing a tight turtleneck and black pants.

Was he always so built?

Maybe you were wrong from the beginning. Maybe you started seeing him like a kid from the moment he applied for the job at the grocery store. Maybe it comes from your initial hatred. It made you built an image of him which you refuse to take away.

But as he softly stretches his arms and unconsciously offers his chest, firm and defined, all reasoning goes to the garbage. Has he ever worn such fitting clothes before? You’re quite sure he never did, his usual style more of a comfy and layered one rather than a subtle, charming one.

“Are you okay?” He asks when confronted with silence and even his voice sounds deeper to your ears. You look from the busy room to his face and you can only nod at his puzzled face.

You’re not ready for what is about to come.

Therefore, you stay on your guard at the beginning, answering with short sentences and letting Yugyeom order for the both you. He doesn’t force anything on you, even when the two of you stay silent for a while. He knows you won’t become a chatterbox in the blink of an eye, for you can barely handle his presence most of the time.  Still he tries, opening up about how he has been exhausted for the past month and how this exam period was going to end him. It pushes you to ask more, hence you end up with a lot of information, from why he decided to become a dancer to what he wants to do in the future.

Yugyeom is ecstatic. He answers with glee, eager to tell you more about him yet cautious not to sounds childish. He knows too much about that side of him and wants it to stay hidden, at least for now. He explains everything with care, from how he felt safer dancing, how it helped him deal with bullying, but also the opportunities it offers for the future.

You seriously never thought he had such deep thoughts about his career plan. He cherishes this discipline so much and seems to be so passionate as he explains how free he feels every time the music starts playing.

You can only listen, brain absorbing all his words and it soon becomes a comfortable exchange between you two. You don’t need to talk a lot, for Yugyeom always adds enough words to keep the evening alive. He leads the conversation like he knows that you don’t want to talk about yourself and he is fine with it.

It’s only when you’re done hearing about him that you decide you must share your story.

“My career path is a lot more boring than yours,” You start, fork playing with a piece of marinated artichoke. Yugyeom pours you another glass of Lambrusco but lets you speak. “I just gave up on school to work because I had no dreams for the future.”

Yugyeom hums and as you glance at his face you notice it doesn’t have that look of disappointment most people have when they learn about you.

Instead, he looks as handsome as ever, a smirk displaying on his now peaceful features. “So that’s how you applied for a job at the grocery store?”

You acquiesce, not knowing how to act when confronted with your own insecurities. You’ve never found yourself interesting nor worth spending time with. You understand how that country works and you know you don’t fit in anyone’s image of an ‘accomplished human being’. “It’s not something to be proud of.”

It scares you how you talk too much all of a sudden. You blame your behaviour on the sweet and sugary wine, but you know the truth.

It’s all Yugyeom’s doing. It’s all because of him and his caring face.

He sighs, breaking the peaceful yet dreadful moment. “But are you okay with your current situation?”

You think for a second. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m dissatisfied because it’s not what I want to do or if it’s because it’s not what society wants me to do.” You used to be fine with dropping out of school and not pursue a long and profitable career, but as you keep getting old, you start to wonder if it didn’t make you lose your value.

Nothing made you think otherwise, so far. Nothing and no one made you think like you were fine the way you were.

Yugyeom swallows his food and moves on his seat so he can face you, “You may think I’m a brat for what I’m about to say,” He wipes his mouth with the bright napkin and puts it on the table. “but society and what it wants us to be is bullshit. No one should be forced to do anything because of a bunch of people who think they know what’s best for everyone.”

You blink softly, finding it hard to believe that Yugyeom is actually being deep about such an important matter.

He keeps going. “My father used to tell me dancing isn’t a real job. He told me I would end up old and without any real source of income, that I would be a disgrace to the family and society. I promised him I would succeed and show him as valuable as anyone else I can be. I took a part-time job because I wanted him to see I could manage well on my own. So far he never complained, but I know he isn’t satisfied with what I want to do.” He laughs to himself, quietly. “I’m talking about myself way too much, sorry about that, noona.”

You shake your head, fidgeting on your seat so you can also face him. “It’s fine. I’d rather hear you talk about yourself than talk about me. There’s nothing much to say about me anyways.”

Yugyeom looks surprised, eyes wide under the thick layer of bangs. “It’s not true. I think you’re very interesting.”

You try to focus on his gentle face, your heart slowly clenching at the words. “You don’t have to, but thanks.” Of course he doesn’t want you to feel bad about yourself. He is always so soft and caring, why would he confirm the fact that your existence is nothing but a big failure?

He munches on his last piece of bread, laughing and shaking his head. “I mean it. You are as important as anyone else in that damned country. It’s just that we need validation, right? I used to think the same, but now I don’t care that much. I’m happy with the way I live and no one will take that away from me.”

“But you have a dream, at least.” You utter, not comfortable with the compliments.

He scoffs. “It’s all the same, noona. No one cares about a kid who wants to become a dancer.” He puts the fork down and gulps down the rest of his glass, feeling full. He didn’t except the conversation to be this serious but then again, he is happy with the outcome.

He can feel how you underestimate yourself because he used to feel the same. He hates how low you think of yourself but he isn’t surprised. It explains a lot, now.

“Will you show me how you dance?”

His breath gets caught in his lungs, making him cough. He is already too anxious because your knee is touching his and you want to see him dance? Good lord, he might not survive that. “What?”

He looks so alarmed as you laugh. Why does he have to be so adorable? “You don’t have to agree. I’m just curious, now that you told me how passionate you are.”

“We-well, I guess yo-yo-you can come see m-me.” He finds it hard to spit the words, his heart erratic and body warm with apprehension.

Once you're done drinking, you notice the silence is not as uncomfortable as it used to be.

Yugyeom almost fights you so he can pay, insisting it was his idea and you shouldn’t have to pay for anything because he wants to invite you and you give up, laughing at how his broad body takes most of the space, blocking you. You end up thanking him, slightly embarrassed because now it does look like a real date.

As soon as you’re out, he spins around, a tiny smile illuminating his now calm face. “Do you want to go for a walk?” He takes his phone out of his pocket, checking the time. “It’s still early.”

You agree, not finding it in you to reject his offer even though you are freezing and were sick a couple of days ago. He carefully walks, trying not to go too fast for he isn’t used to stroll around and glances next to him from time to time just to check on you.

You follow, eyes looking at your feet. Weirdly, you enjoy the feeling of walking around peacefully, without feeling obliged to speak and be social. Yugyeom lets your mind wander wherever it needs to go and you wonder if he also enjoys the moment.

You walk into a busy street and it’s only then that Yugyeom speaks. He finds the noises comfortable enough for him to finally speak his mind and takes a deep breath. He can do it.

“I really enjoyed that diner with you, noona.” You find him looking everywhere else but at you, but you don’t miss the way his face turns red.

You snuggle into your jacket, agreeing. “I did too, Yugyeom.”

He loves the way his name feels on your lips and he finally looks down at you, ready to fire you with more compliments yet fighting with that tingling feeling at his nape.

He sees you all hidden into your clothes and gasps. “You’re cold? I’m so sorry, ah, and you were sick.” His alarmed face looks around the street as he stops to face you.

“It’s fine, It’s not that cold any-”

“There!” He offers his best smile and grabs your hand before walking toward one of the shop. “Hurry, let’s get you some warmth.”

He grips your hand like his life depends on it and you follow, his long legs giving him a speed you find hard to keep up with.

Yugyeom rushes into the shop, aiming for the clothing section and grabbing a deep purple scarf. “You like the colour?”

Before you can even agree he rushes to the counter, not even letting go of your hand even when he struggles to reach for his wallet in his back pocket.

“Wait, I can pay for-” Any form of protest is useless with Yugyeom, who clicks his tongue and explains it’s his fault you’re in the cold. You’d rather say it’s your fault for not covering yourself, though.

Yugyeom lets go of you when you’re both out of the shop. His hands unfold the scarf and leans to wrap the thick knitted clothing around your neck. He scrunches his nose at how it almost covers your face but seems to be satisfied.

He is dying inside.

You blink, eyes barely able to look at him from behind the scarf. When did you become so obedient around him?

He made you loosen up when you thought you had everything under control. You don’t even mind, wondering when was the last time you got someone caring about you so genuinely. “Are you satisfied now?” It makes you tease him, feeling somewhat overwhelmed. You never thought it would turn out this way when you agreed on meeting Kim Yugyeom.

Maybe you knew. Maybe it’s why you didn’t want to do it initially.

“Very much so.” Yugyeom smiles the brightest smile he has ever showed you, straightening his back and walking again.

He doesn’t reach for your hand a second time.

Instead, he walks closer, still looking at the shops and avoiding people walking by. You both keep on walking, Yugyeom pointing at things from time to time to tell you more about him, which results in him explaining the importance of chocolate milk in his life and how he loves eating the same thing over and over again.

He makes you laugh frequently and always ends up feeling flustered which you find endearing. How can this kid be so cute and manly at the same time?

You end up to the conclusion that this is what makes him so charming. The fact that you always had to deal with his bubbly side made you think that he was only a needy child but you were wrong. He too, can be complex.

It makes it all interesting, from the way he seems to understand your struggles to how calm he can be when needed. You never thought he could be so attentive.

“Do you want to go back home, noona?” he speaks when the wind start getting stronger. “I can walk you home.”

You wonder if you should agree. So far you accepted everything, from the bill to the scarf. Maybe you shouldn’t rely on this kid, it’s dangerous for both of you. “I’ll just take the last bus.”

He seems disappointed, but also worried. It’s like you’re the younger one, the girl in distress who needs a man beside her for safety reasons. “Is it safe? I made you come all the way here…” He doesn’t insist but blames himself, his face now pouty and it’s the only thing you need to give in.

He gets you too easily.

You walk toward a bus stop, checking the time. “I just don’t want to be a burden.” You utter, more to yourself than to him.

Yugyeom’s cheeks go up and he is relieved, now. “You could never be a burden, noona.”

You hum, nodding and taking the seat at the empty bus stop. He stays next to you, hiding his ecstatic face into his coat.

Yugyeom looks at your building, fascinated. You don’t live that far from his parent’s house, but the feeling is different. It’s a cool neighbourhood, with brick walls and plants hanging onto the numerous windows. It suits you.

You grab your keys, the noise getting his attention. “Thank you for the food, the scarf and for walking me back here.”

The boy nods eagerly, feeling nervous. Can anyone die of a heart attack at twenty-one? “Don’t thank me, I really had a great time with you, noona. Thank you for coming.”

“I did too.” He looks so pleased with your answer. How? How does this boy find happiness in the most trivial things you do or say? It makes you turn soft, so soft you want to slap yourself.

You stop talking, eyes focused on his disturbingly gorgeous face. You don’t understand why that boy is looking at you like you’re the most important person.

You never imagined someone could feel that way about you.

Yugyeom waits for you to speak, but you say nothing. He chuckles, embarrassed for expecting anything and opting for a goodbye. “Good night, noona.” He bows swiftly, heart clenched.

He must run out of here before he starts doing creepy things. He can already picture Jinyoung smacking him for being too confident. Despite his evident disappointment, he turns around and walks away.

Yugyeom is proud of himself. He didn’t do anything bad – at least nothing that made you kick him and he is pleased with the outcome. He knows nothing about the future and how your relationship will evolve, but he is glad it changed positively.

“Wait!” He turns around before crossing the street, not believing his eyes when he sees you running toward him. “Your legs are so long; you walk way too fast! I couldn’t even say bye.”

You know it’s not true. You only snapped out of your reverie when he walked away.

Yugyeom opens his mouth, ready to tell you that it’s fine, that you don’t have to worry about a mere goodbye but he stops breathing. He literally holds his breath like he is in deep water.

The water being you, wrapped around him, on the tip of your toes.

“Noona, are you okay…?” he whispers, words jerky. Maybe he died of a heart attack a couple of minutes ago and it is what heaven looks like?

You part from him, hands on his shoulders and giggle at how lost he seems to be, before you.

“Next time, I’ll pay.” You breathe, not caring anymore about any type of blush appearing on your face.

Yugyeom makes you do things you never did. It’s as refreshing as it’s scaring you but it’s one of those days, one of those days you want to believe and accept something as bright as his personality.

So naturally you reach for his face and peck his cheek, sweetly.

“Sleep well, Yugyeom.”

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happy-haunts · 5 years

Text

The Redhead

WARNING THIS POST IS LONG.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

“Where These Legs Have Been”

I wouldn’t say I had the worst life growing up in the American Colonies but I also wouldn’t say I had the best life either. You see my mother and father still believed there was wealth in Britain, so they urged me to marry a wealthy merchant when I was of age, even though I had a younger sister (Scarlet) who was more than willing to marry a wealthy man. And you can imagine the shock they had when they found me tasting the lips of one of the girl’s whom parents often socialized with mother and father.

I didn’t hate the company of a man but I didn’t hate the company of a woman either, I understood that my parents saw this as some kind of sin - but how much could they count my actions as a sin when they were planning to have me wed to some wealthy British man? And to me that should count as a sin, forcing someone to do something they don’t want to … If I had it my way I would be the ultimate sinner, I would show my legs to anyone who wanted a peek, I would explore other countries, I would flaunt all of my fine silks, I would have an adventure.

As one could probably guess my eighteenth birthday arrived sooner rather than later and without hesitation my parents, sister, and I sailed to Britain, the smell of the salt water air was intoxicating on our voyage and if I had to choose a place to die well I would hope it would be on a boat in the water.

Once we docked in a boring port of Britain my parents had decided upon going to find somewhere to stay the night - my sister and I on the other hand went about trying to find something to do in this town. Which was when we found the Drunkin’ Boar - most of the men entering the bar were either the usual sloppy drunks or whole crews of sailors.

Scarlet was interested to have a go at some of the sailors while they were in a drunken stupor, she had such a tomboy nature about her - wanting to wrestle the boys at home all the time and urging father to teach her how to shoot a gun. And you would think that mother and father would scold her for being so bold, instead she was commended for her feminism - why shouldn’t a girl be able to out-wrestle a boy? A woman should be required to shoot a gun just like a man! Heaven forbid if I want to make-out all day and wear my dresses a little shorter.

But I’m getting carried away, we had decided to head into the bar and see if it was worth our time. Scarlet noticed a few men arm wrestling ,and decided to go see if she could get them all worked up over losing to a girl. I on the other hand wanted to see if I could work up a crowd in another way - so I walked over to the bar and held out my hand to the man on the stool beside it, he gawked at me and took my hand to help me up onto the end of the bar where I took my seat. Once I was seated at a higher level then more of the patrons were starting to spot me, the place was getting silent now as if these slobs had never seen a woman before in their lives! So I sat up straight and proud and said “You boys keep your mouths hanging open like that they’re sure to collect dust.” a couple guys chuckled while another handful shut their mouths and quickly wiped away any kind of drool.

“Hey Red, what brings you to this dump - a fine lady like yourself?” The man beside me asked.

“Well my sister and I just got into town and while my parents look for a place to stay for the night we decided to see what this place had to offer, while we were walking we got so thirsty and our legs were so sore …” I lifted my red cotton dress to expose my fine smooth legs, rubbing my muscles and giving a depressed sigh. “I don’t suppose any of you fine gentleman could help?”

It was a riot in seconds, as soon as they all started trying to throw their money at the bartender- one man stepped on another man who punched him and caused him to run into another man … Basically it was a whole mess. And while that mess was going on I decided to slip behind the bar and grab two bottles of rum and walk right outside where my sister was already standing, oddly enough? She introduced me to a gentleman whom she had won her arm wrestle against- the Captain of one of the British ships which were currently taking down any Spanish ship they came across due to the disagreements with … part of Spain at the moment.

“I see he bartender has taken a liking to you.” He commented and gestured his head towards my bottles.

“Ah- Yes! I have that effect on people sometimes.”

The Captain had looked back to the bar with a confused look on his face, then back to me. “Is everything alright in there? It sounds like a brawl.” ”Oh well, you know how men can be with the Devil’s poison in their system!” I turned away from the two of them and began to start for the main street, but my sister kept the conversation alive even when I was trying to let it die!

“You know Captain I’m sure my parents would love to meet you.”

“I’m not so sure I could impose on your family if you have all just gotten into port like this.”

“Oh no they wouldn’t mind at all, right Red?”

I shrugged in response.

“...Eh… Right.” Scarlet sighed and grabbed onto the Captain’s arm. “Lets call it my prize for winning at arm wrestling.”

“Well when you say it like that how can I say no?” He chuckled and that was that, we were taking some strange man home to our parents, like finding a purebred stray and asking mother and father if we could keep it.

My parents of course loved him, he was British blood and he was wealthy from plundering all those Spanish vessels. And if no one has guessed by now - yes he did ask me for my hand in marriage as arranged by my mother and father, but I made a deal with my fiancee that I knew would enrage my parents once they found out. I asked my fiancee to take me aboard his ship because I must first know him as a Captain before I can know him as a husband, and what do you know.. He agreed, that is as long as I would bring my sister along for … “safety reasons”.

After that most of the time we spent on the ship together was basically me being his trophy, he told me about how much he despised working under the crown since he had to always look a certain way or act a certain way because as the Captain of this ship which is sailing Britain’s flag then he is representing the people of Britain and her King. It sounded boring, after awhile looting the Spanish ships got boring as well … Because it was all about “the king” this and “the king” that.

Thankfully the dispute with Spain had ended and we could go back to port where my parents were waiting for us, but my fiancee had a better idea. He proposed that we forget the King, forget the navy, forget all of their rules and plunder other ships instead - we would wave a black flag and take what we wanted without anyone telling us how we could act or what ships we could touch.

I loved it.

They were fighting off British ships one day and the next they were in the Caribbean, we would take their food and their drink, take their gold and their pearls, and I would get to be more than just a trophy! I lounged in the crows nest with my skirts up to my knees, I strutted across the deck with my heels clicking on the floorboards, and my sister learned how to sword fight.

Yes, scarlet was still on board when the Captain decided to leave Britain but it wasn’t as if my sister was a total bore- she would join the crew and the Captain in fighting and plundering, and I never needed to worry about my sweet little fiancee because she was already talking his ear off and keeping him occupied.

Years went by and our days of piracy would start to grow repetitive, we had begun to ransack ports and towns to try and show some variety but in the end a pirate’s life was starting to not be for me. So maybe I was starting to want to settle down? Maybe to go back to something more permanent, but every time I considered this I laughed at myself - settle down? Me? Of course not!

But the Captain was considering something like this as well, he was getting old and fighting through ports was starting to tax him, but before he wanted to retire he wanted one last great theft. The theft of his crew.

He had confided in me about this and told me he would split the treasure with me so we could go off to an island and live forever surrounded by our gold. And while it wasn’t my ideal way to sped the rest of my life it surely was better than baring his children and cleaning his suits.

The plan was to raid a port and distract the crew with something while we loaded all their loot onto the ship and sailed away into the dead of night, I was prepared with a distraction already because I knew exactly what at least %90 of these men wanted and that was a woman.

So we had an auction, I talked to the women of the town and had them play along with me as the auction took place - none of them would be going home with the crew since I had their finest iron pans, rolling pins, and brooms tucked away under their dresses so they could cause a commotion after the auction and after the Captain loaded the ship so I could sneak onto the ship as well. You can be sure that I was flattered how the crew shouted “We wants the redhead!” as I exposed my superstructure so to speak.

Once the women began to fight back I started running back to the ship in my fine silk red dress, only to stop as I saw Scarlet standing by the row boat to the ship with the Captain.

“Are you coming with us?” I asked, but Scarlet didn’t say anything in response, she was clenching and un-clenching her hands like she was on edge. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“Your sister and I are engaged.” The Captain spoke with his voice low, almost as if he was disappointed in himself.

“Alright… That’s fantastic but we can celebrate after we get along with the loot.”

“No, Red …” The Captain sighed, “We’re not getting along with the loot, your sister has confessed she has loved me since we met in the bar, and since we started fighting side by side she wishes to do this until she dies by the blade.”

“Fantastic then let me at least be off with my half of the loot.”

“No. Red. You know of the betrayal against the crew …”

“Yes but it’s not like I’ll tell, I’ll be on an island!” ”We can’t take that chance, harlot.” Scarlet spoke now, “You think you can just hypnotize man after man with your body and your words but how does it feel, how does it feel to have your prize taken from you?” I was almost sorry I didn’t have more of a reaction for her to feel proud that she might have broken me.

“Prize? He is hardly my prize, none of those drooling animals in this crew is my prize, none of the idiots we had stolen from were my prize, I was told if I had a prize it was a sin … So I apologize sister but I’ve never had the chance.”

“You SLUT!” she shrieked, she became even more enraged at my indifferent shrug and beat me unconscious.

The next thing I knew my head was covered by a sack and I heard whispers while we rocked in a boat.

“Why do we have to dump her here?” it was the Captain’s voice.

“Because she is still my sister and it is only right that we dump her at our hometown.”

“This has been an inconvenience to the whole crew to do this.”

“They’ll get over it, I can’t believe how many of them actually got choked up over hearing about her death! She didn’t even care about them.” the rowing seemed to stop then and I felt hands on my back as well as behind my knees, then a grunt and I was engulfed in cold water only to be plunged downwards by something heavy right afterwards.

My hands were bound together behind my back as well as my ankles tied together to whatever was keeping me below, I struggled to try and grab the rope at my ankles but with the bag tied around my head I was fighting a loosing battle.

And then the cold water filled my lungs, and then there was nothing.

Bad Love

I was surprised to open my eyes again and to be on the grassy bank of a river, it was then I put together the river was where my sister and her fiancee dumped my body to die. But if I was dumped to die then how am I alive right now? I looked at my hands and screamed, they were glowing with a red light and I could see the grass through them, I could feel my body- I felt solid … I took in my surroundings, it seemed like I was in a graveyard…? A graveyard that surrounded a rather dark intimidating mansion.

“Well… Might as well ask for help.” I made my way to the front doors and walked through, inside was just as macabre. Everything was covered in cobwebs, bats were the decorations of choice for most of their furniture and candelabras, and a dark feeling seemed to settle upon me.

I heard talking from behind two grand doors, walking through them I saw a tiny little ghost (I presumed) and she was being put down by several other “dancing” ghosts apparently. It was all about how she was a handicapped ghost with no legs, and I am not the nicest person but I am not so cruel to discriminate someone who has no legs … And she was kind of cute.

So I decided to take the dancing ghosts down a notch and leave with this little cutie - whom I found out was named Emily.

We started a tour which turned into a mission to deliver a key chain to some murderess in the attic from the Ghost Hostess of this mansion, I was mainly on board with going to the attic because Emily was so small and she seemed terrified of this hatchet woman.

Once we got to the attic was when I knew I was staying in this mansion for the rest of my undying days.

Her ghostly aura was the color of a deathly blue hue, her yellow eyes sparked with murder, and her smile was so sinister that I knew she was up to no good. The way that Constance Hatchaway spoke about her husbands that she killed sounded like everyday of my living life- her parents telling her who she could and couldn’t court and they were only allowed to be a man. This was also when I realized how many years had gone by and metal inventions were ruling this world and if I wanted to I could have as many women as I wanted.

I could have Constance if she would have me.

Thus began my attempts at courting her.

Courting Constance was maddening! She was intelligent and knew that I was hopelessly in love with her ever since we met in the attic. I brought her books from the library - since the disembodied voice told me that they have the worlds most famous ghost writers in their collection, but she seemed to giggle at the books as if my attempt was childish! Another time I brought flowers to her with all the heads snipped off, and upon her asking where the flower part was I said “They’re your axe-husbands!” She placed her head in her palm and shook her head.

I confided in Emily for help trying to win Constance’s heart, since Emily was obsessed with romance.

And what she suggested was … Something only Emily would suggest.

“Oh, well she is still a woman so she wouldn’t want anything from you, she would want to know how you feel about her! Tell her how beautiful you think she is, not a pick up line but actually how you see her, tell her how you really feel about her - about how your love makes you feel, and be your long legged self.” She placed her rather tiny hand on my upper arm since she struggled to actually reach my shoulder.

“Feelings are pointless.” I had stated, which seemed to break Emily- if her glowing heart wasn’t showing through her chest I swear it would have actually shattered.

“If you don’t tell her your feelings then she will never know how you feel about her, no about of headless flowers are going to do you any good.”

I rolled my eyes in response and sighed, I might as well try it at least once.

And so I made my way up to the attic to Constance and pushed open the door, she was standing by the window as always and watching the graveyard below where the ghosts were drinking, singing, and doing things that only dead people could do. (removing heads, shooting each other in the face, and ect.)

“Come with more gifts?” Constance laughed lightly and looked at me but was puzzled when there was nothing in my hands.

“No, I just came with … me.” I could feel myself getting warm, could ghosts blush? If they could then I was sure that I was doing it right now. “You’re beautiful.” I blurted out as fast as I could, this felt as if I was taking off all my clothes in front of her - as if I was even more transparent than I already was, I walked through my life completely closed off to anything outside of me, but at this moment I was so willing to show her in my heart where no one has touched me since I was a child.

“Red?” Constance was stepping towards me and took my hand, ��What did you say?”

“You’re beautiful, like sea-glass reflecting against the bluest ocean - your words dance out of your mouth like a ballet and they have dance through my head even now, but even if I went mad from hearing you speak everyday of my life- er … death, I would be glad to have gone mad by your doing.” She was blinking as if not expecting what was happening, but I couldn’t stop now. “I love you, Constance Hatchaway, and if loving you means I must have my head removed then so be it, I will part with any of my limbs if you’ll love me as well-”

“Oh! Yes!” It was my turn to be surprised then, she was so quick about her answer.

“Y-yes?”

“Of course Red! What? Did you think that I wouldn’t?”

“You never seemed to respond to any of my other attempts at courting is all.”

“It was charming! You were always charming!” She threw her arms around my neck and I tasted her lips- softer than any lips I had kissed when I was human, and even more alive.

If this was a sin then I was sure I was sinning just right.

#Constance Hatchaway #we wants the redhead #redhead #haunted mansion #long post #text post #the haunted mansion #ghost #emily declaire #pirates of the caribbean #disneyland #disney parks #disney world #wdw

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tmarie82 · 6 years

Text

A Necessary Arrangement (Part Three)

A Desire and Decorum AU

Pairing: Ernest Sinclaire x MC (Ella Mills)

Book: Desire and Decorum (AU= Alternate Universe)

Word Count: ~2,100

Rating: PG

Author’s Note: Another chapter of this AU, which I’m really enjoying writing! Now we start meeting other characters and getting hints about Ernest’s past … with a visit from our favorite old crotchety Duke and his bubbly little wife!

You can read Part One and Part Two here.

Please let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list. You can find all of my fics here - MASTERLIST

~~~~~~~~~~

Ella nestled in tighter against the cushions of the settee, perching her book upon her knee to rest in her line of sight. The mid-morning sun streamed in through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows behind her, casting a ray of light across the pale skin of her hand and yellowed pages of the novel. It was the second time this month she had read Defoe’s tale of Robinson Crusoe, yet her mind was enraptured by Crusoe’s struggle for survival yet again.

Life at Ledford Park has settled into a comfortable routine since the wedding. Each morning Ella would rise with the sun, taking her tea and breaking her fast in the master chambers as she gazed out over the immaculate landscaping. After she was dressed, if the weather permitted, she would escape outdoors to explore the gardens, sometimes alone and sometimes she would steal Briar away from her duties to keep her company. After a turn about the gardens, Lady Ella would retire to the library to pour over the latest book she had plucked from the shelves until the time for luncheon was called. Most often she had lunch by herself in the dining hall as Mr. Sinclaire was always either away on business during the day or would take lunch in his study. She would rarely see any trace of her husband until dinnertime when he would finally make his appearance and keep her company.

Although it had taken several weeks of prodding and persistence, Ernest had finally begun to converse freely with his wife during their nightly meals together. Of course he was rarely a man to show any emotion or favors, but Ella had come to look forward to their time together each evening and relished each glimpse of a smile from the forlorn man. Each smile was hard won, yet that moment of lightness was well worth the effort … one could almost forget Ernest’s sullen demeanor upon the sight of his warm smile or sound of his deep laughter. During their conversing, Ella had learned that her new husband was an avid explorer, yearning to stretch his legs and breathe in the open air outside at every given opportunity. Similar to Ella, he was also a proponent of reading in his spare time and had recommended some of his favorite books … most recently his treasured childhood favorite, Robinson Crusoe.

This particular morning Ella had savored the solitude of her walk and time in the library, resting her mind and conversation skills for the upcoming event. For after luncheon she was to accompany Ernest on their first public outing together as a married couple to the London society’s most prestigious countryside pastime, the races.

~~~

Ella tugged again at the hat poised atop her coiffed updo, struggling to keep it upright as it slid downwards at every bouncing bump of the carriage on the road. She heard a chuckle across the seat from her, her eyes flicking up to find Ernest staring at her with amusement. She gave him a tepid smirk back. “Yes?” She questioned politely.

Ernest shook his head and looked back out the window, trying to suppress a grin. “Nothing … you just seem nervous, I suppose.”

Ella scoffed, straightening her hat once more and sitting upright, jutting her chin out proudly. “I most certainly am not nervous.” She replied bluntly, turning to look out at the countryside passing along outside. “Perhaps it is you who are nervous, my lord.” She quipped back playfully, continuing the witty banter the pair conversed in so frequently.

If Ella was completely honest, she both loved and despised this sardonic pattern of discourse that she and her husband had fallen into. For one she looked forward to hearing what clever inquiry or response he would throw at her each day, always challenging her and keeping her engaged in the dialogue. On the contrary, all the back and forth did not answer the questions that had plagued her since that dreary September evening. Where was this charade of a marriage headed, for certainly it had not yet led Ernest Sinclaire to her bed ... and, more importantly, what was her husband hoping to gain from this most unusual union?

Upon arrival at the race track, Ernest escorted Ella in a languid stroll towards the stables, pointing out a robust chestnut steed from Edgewater near the front and a svelte speckled grey mare a few stalls down representing Ledford Park. Ella approached the towering Edgewater horse timidly, lifting her hand to stroke his nose gently. She glanced back over her shoulder to Ernest with a soft smile, admiring the warmth behind his eyes as they met her own. “How many horses will race in total?”

“Eight. Representing the various houses in the region.” He replied simply.

“Hmm …” Ella pondered, moving from the large brown steed to the smaller grey horse of her husband’s house and allowing it to smell the skin on her dainty hand. “Well, my husband … it seems that between the two of us our odds are fairly good, wouldn’t you say?” She stared into the horse’s dark eyes, suppressing the urge to glance back and gauge his reaction straight away.

A slight smirk swept the corners of his mouth upwards, his eyes dancing with amusement when she finally met his gaze again. “I quite agree, Lady Ella … it would appear the odds are in our favor.” He looked down at his boots and ran his fingers through his tumbling curls, fighting away the tinge of pink tickling his cheeks. Once he had composed himself he stood upright again, bending his arm towards her in invitation. “Shall we, Wife?”

The two arrived at their seats under the shade of the tent, the first ones to sit in the area. Ella perched herself upon the stiff-backed chair and surveyed the passers-by, occasionally greeting various acquaintances who stopped by. It had been so long since she had attended the races, and she had forgotten the excitement of the hustle and bustle prior to the starting gunshot as people chatted and searched for their seats. Her father used to love to take her to the races as a child after her mother had passed, she recalled fondly. Unfortunately their little adventures at the race track had ceased after Countess Henrietta had entered their lives ...

“Why, if it isn’t my favorite cousin, Mr. Sinclaire!” A high-pitched voice rang from their left. The couple turned to find the exclaimer approaching slowly, a petite lady with golden curls twirled around her face waddling slowly and clutching her rounded abdomen under the fabric of her dress. She smiled jovially, and Ella felt herself immediately drawn to the beautiful young woman.

Ernest stood up to greet her coldly, stepping down to take her hand dutifully and place a quick peck to her gloved knuckles. “Felicity. What a surprise.” Ella watched her husband curiously, searching for any clue as to why he was greeting his own flesh and blood so formally. He turned back to Ella with a blank expression on his face, taking her hand and escorting her forward to present her properly. “May I present my wife, Lady Ella. Ella, this is my cousin Lady Felicity Holloway- er, I mean Duchess Felicity Richards.”

Felicity squealed and took Ella’s hand in her own, bouncing slightly with excitement. “Of course! I have so looked forward to meeting you, Ella. I was so disappointed to hear that you two had decided to hold such a small, private wedding ceremony. I do so love weddings, don’t you?!? But I suppose it is an awfully romantic theory to wed quietly, to not bother with the formalities of a wedding and just be unable to resist any longer. Ahhh!” She ended her rant with a wistful sigh, clutching her hands dramatically over her heart.

Ella stood stunned for a moment, mouth agape as she absorbed Felicity’s rambling diatribe. When she finally decided that the young woman seemed friendly enough, she plastered her most courteous smile on her lips before she replied. “What an honor to meet you, Felicity. I dare say my husband has told me little of his family thus far.”

“Well Felicity is a distant cousin, many generations back. Our paths had not crossed many times … until recently, that is.” Ernest grumbled, his former pleasant spirits quite obviously forgotten.

“I just think it’s so lovely when family can be reunited.” Ella interjected sweetly, trying to lighten the dismal mood her husband had cast upon the interaction. “How lucky you both are.”

“What is this about luck, I hear?” A gruff tone echoed from behind Felicity, finally presenting itself in the form of a middle-aged gentleman. “Felicity, I hope you have not been spreading any of that poppycock about good fortunes and luck before the races, my dear.” The man grasped her elbow firmly and tucked his own arm through it, standing tall with a solemn face while studying the couple opposite them.

“Oh no, my love …” Felicity chimed, nestling beside him warmly while continuing to rub her belly with her spare hand. “Ella, allow me to introduce my husband, Duke Tristan Richards of Karlington. And you remember Ernest, my dear … Ella and Ernest have just been married, you see.”

“Mmm hmm, so I had heard. Sinclaire …” Duke Richard muttered his acknowledgment, his brows furrowed as he eyed Ernest with contempt. His face brightened as he turned and his eyes fell upon Ella, leaning forward to give her a gracious bow of greeting. “Lady Ella, it is such a pleasure. I was happy to hear that Ernest here had finally decided to settle down, we were beginning to worry for him. And to such a beautiful young woman …” the duke gave her a wicked smile and a wink as he leaned forward to take her hand in his, placing a slow kiss to her hand with a lingering breath as if he were inhaling her essence.

“L-l-likewise …” Ella stammered, quite taken aback by this bold older man. Poor Felicity, she thought internally, saying a quick prayer that her own husband was at least pleasant to look upon despite his frequent moods.

The two pairs stood staring at each other for a moment until Ella broke the awkward silence. “So when are you expecting your little one, Felicity?”

Felicity’s face lit up with excitement. “Oh, we have a few more months until the baby arrives.” She beamed up at her towering husband, nudging him fondly in the side. “The duke here is quite certain it is a little boy, although I am hoping for a girl.”

“You’ve got to ensure the heir for the household, do you not Sinclaire? Tick tock, tick tock.” Duke Richards teased in a gravelly voice.

Ella felt herself blush at the Duke’s insinuation, dropping her eyes quickly to prevent him from reading the truth in her eyes. She glanced over at Ernest beside her, noticing his clenched fists and tight jaw … as if he were holding back the urge to spat in disgust. Just then the trumpet sounded from the racetrack, breaking the tension to alert the crowd of the impending start of the race.

“Ahh … well, we should go find our seats, dear husband. I do not want to miss the race!” Felicity trilled, tugging her husband’s arm and breaking the heated trance he was in.

“Yes quite …” the duke agreed in a monotone voice. He turned to Ella and nodded his warm farewell. “Lady Ella, it was an honor …” He then turned to Ernest and his stare ran cold. “Sinclaire … I’m sure we’ll be in touch soon.”

Ella curtsied in response, passing a shy smile to Felicity as the couple walked away to find their places. When she turned around she found Ernest was already seated, glaring blankly out at the race track. She sat down beside him, resting a hand on his knee to get his attention. “Well that was a nice surprise! I do so wish you would tell me more of your family.” She began, attempting to start a pleasant conversation with her sullen husband.

Ernest continued his unswerving gaze, his face set and staring far off as if he were in another world entirely. Finally he glanced down at her hand upon his leg, gripping it gently and setting it on her own lap before placing his hands in his own. “Let us just watch the races, Ella. They’re about to begin.”

END

~~~~~~~~~~

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#ernest sinclaire x mc #ernest sinclaire #desire and decorum au #desire and decorum #tmarie82 fanfic

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nylonsandlipstick · 6 years

Text

People keep talking about all of the Christian themes in Narnia and how they don’t want adaptations to forget about them because of the supposed allegorical nature of the series and I just want to remind everyone that Lewis didn’t write a Christian allegory in a children’s series. The Christian undertones were purely coincidental.

Some people seem to think that I began by asking myself how I could say something about Christianity to children; then fixed on the fairy tale as an instrument, then collected information about child psychology and decided what age group I’d write for; then drew up a list of basic Christian truths and hammered out 'allegories' to embody them. This is all pure moonshine. I couldn’t write in that way. It all began with images; a faun carrying an umbrella, a queen on a sledge, a magnificent lion. At first there wasn't anything Christian about them; that element pushed itself in of its own accord. (Lewis; Of Other Worlds)

He actually disliked it when people called them a Christian allegory, he’d rather had people call it a “supposition” (his own words).

If Aslan represented the immaterial Deity in the same way in which Giant Despair represents despair, he would be an allegorical figure. In reality, however, he is an invention giving an imaginary answer to the question, 'What might Christ become like if there really were a world like Narnia, and He chose to be incarnate and die and rise again in that world as He actually has done in ours?' This is not allegory at all. (Lewis; In a letter he wrote in 1958)

Literally The Voyage of the Dawn Treader imitates an immrama (which is an Old Irish tale that combines Christianity and Irish mythology). Lewis has been said to be influenced by medieval and Renaissance astrology, Plato, and different mythologies around Europe. That’s stuff that most Christian authors trying to write an allegory would definitely avoid. The heavy inclusion of paganism is actually something that many Christians criticize. Some call it “soft-sell paganism and occultism” because Lewis depicted the pagan gods in a postitive light.

While there are in the Narnia tales many clear parallels with Biblical events, they are far from precise, one-on-one parallels. . . . Aslan sacrifices himself in order to redeem Edmund, the Traitor, who is completely reformed and forgiven. That is as if the New Testament were to tell us that Jesus Christ redeemed Judas Iscariot and that Judas later became one of the Apostles. . . There had been times in Christian history when Lewis might have been branded a heretic for far smaller creative innovations in theology. (Rev. Abraham Tucker; Religion and Literature, Religion in Literature)

. . . not only was Lewis hesitant to call his books Christian allegory, but the stories borrow just as much from pagan mythology as they do the Bible. (John Hurst; Nine Minutes of Narnia)

And, here’s the kicker: Lewis believed that paganism would act as a good preparation for Christianity.

Moral relativity is the enemy we have to overcome before we tackle Atheism. I would almost dare to say ‘First let us make the younger generation good pagans and afterwards let us make them Christians.’ (Lewis; Yours, Jack)

Lewis despises modernity for the bringing of agnosticism but was accepting of polytheistic pagan religions. You know why? Because he had been pagan before he converted to Christianity later in his life. He’s not someone who was devoutly Christian his entire life. He turned away from Christianity and towards paganism. He had to be dragged back into Christianity by his friends. If the Christian “themes” in his stories were removed in the new adaptation, he’d only be upset because people were changing his stories. Aside from that, the Christian “allegory” that is The Chronicles of Narnia isn’t a Christian allegory but a supposition where Lewis accidentally incorporated Christian themes and just went with it but didn’t even make the story wholly Christian, he just ended up accidentally including those themes.

We can analyze and pick apart the text all we want, good writing should allow you to do so. But sometimes blue drapes are just blue drapes and the writer didn’t intend to give them any depth. Lewis didn’t want us to focus on the Christian aspect of the stories because they weren’t supposed to be purely Christian. They were just supposed to be children’s books and the only faith aspect included is supposed to be about all faiths, not just Christianity.

#c s lewis

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weston-hcs · 6 years

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Chapter 137: Animal symbolism

Sebastian is an ugly bitch and we all know that. But what does his grossness actually mean? Supernatural beings take on the form of whatever a human is able to comprehend, yet this does not mean that it is their true form. Sebastian’s appearance so far is probably not what one can call a true form. How have I already pumped out a full-on analysis within a few hours after translating the chapter myself? Hi I’m Sen and welcome to my TED talk on demonic and animalistic imagery.

The first image in Chapter 137 we have of Sebastian’s animal forms is the image of a reptilian like eye. If we were to jump to a quick conclusion, we can make an assumption that Sebastian is the demon Moloch - a demon from Judaism with a lizard like form. In addition to this, Moloch has also been known to feed off of sacrificed children. In this predicament, Sebastian fits these criteria. Lizards, or “leTa’ah”, have been listed in Leviticus 11, said to be unclean “creeping things.”

It is likely that Toboso’s use of animal forms here looks towards Biblical representation, due to the nature of this series, yet another interpretation is quite ironic - lizards contradict one of Sebastian’s most powerful statements in this chapter. They have the power to regenerate that which is lost. Apart from that, the close up of the eye evokes an image of power; not that we haven’t just seen him slaughter a man, but hiding the rest of his form is a powerful technique to make one see him as a being of grandeur, that his eye alone is enough to evoke terror.

The image of the fly is our next image, again only as an eye. Within each unit of Sebastian’s, we can see O!Ciel’s fearful reflection. Judging by how Ciel looks up at him, it can be assumed that… that’s a big bitch. Even more terrifyingly so, Ciel can see his own reflection - he can’t avoid looking at his ‘cowardly’ expression. This adds to the psychological torture that leads to the eventual contract. Looking back at theological sources again, we can ponder upon Sebastian’s identity not being Moloch but rather the better known Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies.

Compounded with the fact that in this chapter Sebastian is only referred to as “the demon/devil”, one could even assume that Sebastian is the greatest demon of them all, as Beelzebub is sometimes used as another name for a devil. Though, judging by Sebastian’s power in comparison to Grim Reapers, I would assume that Sebastian is neither Satan, nor a prince of Hell. Flies have been associated with the devil and evil in many passages of scripture, one of the most famous is when God sent down a plague of flies in the Old Testament - in both Biblical means and in this chapter, the appearance of a fly is a portent for greater tragedy.

Perhaps the most Biblical animal imagery you can get is the snake, what we see Sebastian presented as next. The Fall of Man where Satan in the form of a serpent is what first may come to mind in this scene; Ciel is tempted by the devil without knowing any better, his contract built upon the belief that it was his own fault that he had lost his family. However, the demon Aym seems to fit this motif as well. While every demon takes a beautiful and charming form, Aym is noted for his ability use people’s secrets against them and get them to do things that they otherwise may not want to do. After each animal that is presented in Sebastian’s form, they so far all fit within the general idea of his character.

Most interestingly is the positioning of this form. The snake appears very near to Ciel, it’s fangs close enough to bite, yet it is still outside of the cage. This contributes again to the psychological fear that Sebastian uses to coerce his victim into forming a contract. Not only does he terrify the child, but symbolically it represents Sebastian’s freedom outside of the cage - while Ciel is obviously constrained within the cage, denying this contract and the demon’s request would mean that he’d be left alone. Sebastian has already demonstrated his power in obliterating everyone outside of the cage, and it’d be an easy feat to destroy the child sitting vulnerable inside it. This image not only adds to the idea of Sebastian as the cunning tempter, but also that he is cruel and ruthless in his ways, finding ease to tap into one’s trauma and terror to get what he really wants. He’s an absolute... snake.

The image of the dog is just about one of the last that Ciel would want to see in that moment. Again, though Sebastian may not have had knowledge of it, this form again, adds to the idea of tapping into mental torment. For Ciel, who also thinks of how he can’t even run back to his dog anymore, this only adds to rub salt in his wounds. By appearing as a dog, Sebastian can appeal to Ciel’s guilt, making him feel as if it was his fault that his dog had died, but he can also create the fear that even those who once loved him now despise him. No wonder this is the image that shows before he’s finally broken.

This appeal also grants the idea of safety. We’ve established that he is the guard dog to the Queen’s guard dog right at the start of this series. For Ciel, who’s lost one of the last beings that protected him, having the same creature appear to him grants an idea of hope. This of course is truly sad, considering that Sebastian steals all of this away by word of the contract, but it’s still enough to deceive Ciel into thinking that he has no choice but to come to Sebastian. I mean, Sebastian is a real.... son of a bitch.

The next three images placed in succession, which can mean that they are or less significance. However, these three animals - a raven, an octopus and a goat - are still important in understanding Sebastian’s nature. Interestingly, anthropologist Claude Levi Strauss proposed that ravens are almost mythic in status as they are the mediator animals between life and death, being carrion birds. These birds have been associated with Sebastian before in Toboso’s sketches and moreso the introduction to the anime. While the anime-canon is one that most of us would like to forget, it has become increasingly relevant with the arrival of the recent chapters, what with Alois being used as a parallel to Ciel’s suffering. The contract in the anime is depicted in a shower of raven feathers, so having Sebastian be portrayed here as a raven is fitting. All in all, this… doesn’t really tell us much of what we already know. Sebastian is powerful, what’s the deal with that?

The deal is that he may have not been so powerful before. In German stories, and as we know Toboso does pull inspiration from Germany, ravens are the damned souls. Perhaps this is Toboso’s indicator of what demons actually are. Many theories have speculated that in the series they must be fallen angels, or that demons were just born demons - it can be seen that Sebastian may in fact be a damned soul, once a human, but sentenced to an eternity of suffering. This however is all speculation and can be considered as Toboso teasing us on the discovery of what Sebastian is later on.

Even more confusingly so… we have… an octopus? There isn’t much to go upon in biblical terms. Apart from the fact that you’re not supposed to eat “anything in the seas… that does not have fins and scales”, octopi are pretty much irrelevant. It’s positioning in the panel seems distant yet the stance of it’s tentacles appear to be ready to pounce upon Ciel. In fact, both the octopus and raven appear in this way. The statement that Sebastian has been “summoned” and “that this fact shall never change” is fitting with the image - once both have a hold on their targets, it will be near impossible to be free from their grasp. This octopus represents the futility of escape. Sebastian is the only choice Ciel has at surviving. (The discord chat kept on making Octodaddy jokes as I wrote this and I almost lost my will to live)

The goat is probably the most significant image of the devil, alike to the snake. During the Green Witch arc, Sebastian’s description of their meeting to Sieglinde even shows the typical depiction of a devil - a goat head, bird-like wings and a woman’s breasts. This image was worshipped by many cults such as the Free Masons. However, most significantly, this is the image of Baal/Baphomet (and his other many ridiculous names), one of the worst demons. In fact, I would say that Baal is closest to Sebastian’s character out of any demon that I could pull right outta my ass. As a commander of war, Baal supervises the destruction of masses - during the Green Witch arc, he finds interest in the development of humanity, but in particular their war efforts over science. Baal also desires sacrifices in great numbers, usually with sacrifice under deception… as we witnessed in the last few chapters.

Though I don’t believe that Sebastian is actually one of the named demons in any monotheistic religion, I do see that he is comparable to many demons. This is exactly the danger that we shouldn’t fall into so early. The image of the goat is deceptive; it’s what one usually assumes when they think about an animalistic devil. Perhaps this is a clue as to Toboso telling us not to get too comfortable with our perception of Sebastian just yet - in fact, I beg to argue that this is a forewarning of us getting further insight into Sebastian’s character as a whole.

Finally, we arrive at the image of a bat. The idea of bats as demonic has existed in many cultures. Looking outside from Biblical connotations, bats have been associated with creatures as the Jilaiya in Indian lore and more. Once again, positioning is important, with the bat outside of the cage, a taunt to coerce Ciel into accepting the contract. To cast someone “to the bats”, a saying used in the Bible when told what to do with idols, is to consign them to desolation or ruin. This is exactly what Sebastian is doing; it is through Sebastian’s hand that Ciel will be lead to damnation. However, these are all ideas that we’ve beaten half to death in the fandom. Apart from plot revelation of Sebastian’s manipulation, there isn’t too much that we learn about Sebastian at all.

Now what will I conclude out of all of this? You poor sad fools… Sebastian doesn’t have a true form. Toboso is too lazy to draw- Nah, I’m just fucking with y’all. We won’t see that true form for a while. We’re going to get shady little snippets of what he is, but Toboso might stick with the idea that demons are incomprehensible and unfathomable to the human eye. Yet, this is a forewarning that we will eventually gain further insight into what Sebastian is. However, if you’d ask for my interpretation…

Sebastian is full of bullshit and that might just be all that we get.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

Shoutout to @asthmaticastre for putting up with my bullshit.

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebastian michaelis #chapter 137 #spoilers

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