#::Grimm Writes::

[tarisbackyard]

Here's how to write an authentic Grimm style fairytale, brought to you by a Certified German TM:

Forget everything Disney movies taught you, besides maybe Snowwhite, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty. But even those are on thin fucking ice. Also ignore modern fantasy literature conventions, especially Dungeons & Dragons type stuff.

Ideally only the protagonist or none of the characters ought to have names. And the names should either be really fucking ordinary, or some kind of epithet. Like, either that's a Franz or a Bramblesock, cause when Bramblesock was a child he lost a sock in a shrub of brambles. Everyone else is either the king, the grandma, or the carpenter.

The common types of protagonist: Regular working class guy who cons his way into a life of riches, poor downtrodden peasant who through hardworking kindness is granted salvation (usually via gaining riches), too pure too good for this world princess who can't catch a fucking break, too nasty too bratty for this world princess who gets taught a lesson in humility.

The characters are generally very one note and the only kind of character growth they can experience boils down to "maybe I shouldn't have been a dick, huh?"

The location is either as vague as possible or super fucking specific for no reason; either the story takes place literally nowhere or in the town of Buxtehude.

Animals and inanimate objects that can talk for no apparent reason and no one bats an eye at are always a great addition.

If you want to add any fantasy races, use giants (large, dumb brutes), dwarves (angry little guys who live in the wilderness and get really angry if you touch their beards), or gnomes (mischievous house spirits who might be helpful but watch out!), but never more than one of these. Fairies are rare and usually the "tall beautiful wise woman" type, not the small annoying pixie type. Dragons are very pointedly no-where to be found, those distinctly belong in sagas, which are their own distinct type of literature.

Weird moral of the story that either boils down to "be smarter than all the other fuckers", "good things happen to good people, bad things happen to bad people", or "don't upset the supernatural".

Random tidbits of gore that no one bats an eye at.

Witches eat children, if a mother gets more than single line dedicated to her she's evil, fathers are spineless and/or assholes who either die or come around in the end.

Ugly means evil, pretty means good. Except when it doesn't.

Optional: Repeated rhyming phrases and numbers. Seventh son of a seventh son kinda stuff. The numbers 3, 7, 12, and 13 in particular.

Ideally a 19th century scholar should be able to read some clumsy Germanic pagan wishful thinking into the story, no matter how big and obvious the Christian overtones are.

Optional: Start the story with "Once upon a time" and end it with "And if they didn't die, then they are still alive today."

[slimeshade]

Visit - and a bonus challenge:

[chaoticfuryfest]

Liebe TS Community,

los geht es mit der Stalker Story!

Es erwarten Euch elf Kapitel und ich plane ein Kapitel pro Woche zu veröffentlichen. Ausnahme wird das zweite Kapitel, das kommt wahrscheinlich schon am Sonntag, weil das erste so kurz ist. 😉

Die Zeit bis November will schließlich überbrückt werden.

Ich wünsche euch viel Spaß beim Lesen und hoffe, dass Euch die Geschichte gefällt!

[underqualified-human]

Reasons they fear ? Yuu

Various reasons the dorm leaders have to be afraid of ? Yuu

All:

Once a month exactly they have a vivid dream of being killed by Yuu, and when they wake up there are bruises around the places they were in the dream

Grimm: He lives with them. Also was there when Yuu got genuinely angry.

Riddle:

Is always able to identify where Che'nya is. Sometimes they'll just look at the air and start talking, and then there's Che'nya.

Leona:

In part it's also what makes them interesting to him. How they speak of their siblings scares him sometimes. Other times it makes him envious.

They'll speak of their older siblings with their voice full of fondness, they'll speak of their brother's passing with their eyes glazing over and yet in the same breath, they'll speak about arguments where they wished death upon each other like they were jokes told at a comedy club.

They'll point out scars and barely be able to get a word out over frantic giggles as they recount the 'practical joke' their sister played on them.

They scare him because they make him reflect.

Azul:

During the anemone incident, they walked past the tweels, grabbed him by the neck and said: "Desperate people are dangerous people, one feels little about taking a life when all he has to lose is his own." And then walked away.

Kalim + Jamil:

When they were alone, Yuu looked at them both and said: "This is the closest either of you has been to death, and I intend to keep it that way." And now has regular sleepovers at Scarabia.

Vil:

They drank poison and had no reaction or side effects. Also made blueberry pie but substituted the blueberries for Deadly Nightshade. They genuinely thought that was a normal thing to do.

Idia:

He went to Ramshackle once [1] for a date videogame night and they said something about their 'mothers-sisters-daughters-fathers-other child'.

Idia: You mean your half-cousin?

Yuu: Yeah but she doesn't like me calling her that in front of people. So she told me about this one time her half brother the eight-legged horse-

Idia: Wait back up, what's your cousin's name?

Yuu: Hel, so anyway-

Malleus:

He just straight up doesn't, he's the crown prince of the Briar Valley, if anything he finds their odd traits endearing.

"What will you do if I die before you?"

[the-grimm-writer]

Thinking about Mahito who's just a big ol creep 😩

He follows you around with a grin on his face, blatantly staring at you and not bothering to hide it, delighted as you squirm in discomfort and try to avoid him or rush away from him to hide, just for him to laugh and run after you.

Every reaction you give him just makes him so fascinated. If you try to ignore him he just gets motivated, pushing you until he finally gets the reaction he wants.

You cry? Well he just thinks that's the cutest thing, pinching your puffy cheeks and wiping your tears away while being sweet and degrading at the same time. Tells you how cute and pathetic you are for crying when he hasn't given you a reason to cry yet.

Or maybe you're feeling feisty and try and fight him back. Hitting and insulting him might just turn him on. But if not? Well that tough act won't last long when you have multiple hands running down your body, feeling every inch of your skin touched and violated by him, pumping his fingers into your holes until you're weak and submissive against him.

But heaven forbid anyone else try and play with you or make you uncomfortable. Only he's allowed to do that.

"Want me to take care of them?" He'll ask, lazily draping his arms around your shoulders. He's not really giving you a choice, but he does want to see how far he can push it. And he'll pout if you say no or beg him not to before making you watch anyways, telling you that's what will happen to anyone that tries to get in the way of him and his favorite toy <33

[wesen-grimmopedia]

I don’t see enough people talking about the fact that Nick is a really good artist. He can briefly see a wesen woge and then hours later draw a highly detailed and accurate sketch of what he saw. From what I remember this is just… not really discussed in the show.

[rebelliousstories]

That’s My Sister

Relationship: Sean Renard x Reader, Monroe x Monroe!Reader

Fandom: Grimm

Request: No

Warnings: Brief Strong Language, Fluff, Light Angst

Word Count: 3,540

Main Masterlist: Here

Grimm Masterlist: Here

Summary: Bringing home your significant other for the holidays is always stressful. Even more so when you are a wesen, with another wesen coming, and a Grimm to top it all off!

Love is like death, it must come to us all, but to each his own unique way and time, sometimes it will be avoided, but never can it be cheated, and never will it be forgotten.

The spice shop was gorgeous this time of year. Smells of nutmeg, cinnamon, and juniper with just a hint of pine filled the room. Lights strung up along the banners and shelves. There were not enough to distract or take away from the business, but it added just enough of Yuletide cheer to the area.

“Rosalee? Are you in?” Someone called out into the shop. She looked around in wonder as she waited for the person to appear.

“Hey, it’s my favorite Monroe. What can I do for you?” Said Fuchsbau emerged from the back, dressed in a cozy cardigan.

“Don’t let my brother hear you say that,” the Blutbad teased, “but seriously. I’m looking for a gift for my boyfriend and was wondering if maybe I could poke around and see what I could find?” Her timid tone, and now shy demeanor intrigued Rosalee as she watched the woman.

“Oh. Your mysterious boyfriend that we have yet to meet. I’m sure we could find something. Tell me a little bit about him.” Breathing a sigh of relief, the Blutbad relaxed and went back to her usual self.

“Well, he’s super sweet and oddly loaded. Which makes it difficult to buy him a gift because if he wants something, he already has it. I just- I want this to be good because it’s our first Christmas. But he does like tea when he’s not working to wind down. So maybe something to do with that?” Her rambling encouraged the other woman to begin scouring the shelves for something that might peek her interest.

“Is he wesen? Just incase I give him something poisonous.” Rosalee stopped to look at the sister in her shop.

“He’s half zauberbiest, if that helps.” She offered, to which Rosalee confirmed that it did, in fact, help in her search. But all the while the Fuchsbau’s thoughts were racing as she tried to think of anyone who was half zauberbiest. It was not a very common type of wesen, especially if he’s half.

“Aha! This might do the trick,” she pulled something from a shelf in a glass container, “it’s a calming blend. Rose, chamomile, lavender, mint, and green tea. It’s delicious and should help calm him down from stressful days.” The other woman’s face perked up, and she excitedly followed Rosalee to the counter, where she began to dispense an amount to take with her.

“So this boyfriend of yours, are you bringing him to dinner tomorrow night?” Rosalee tried to sound nonchalant, but her curiosity was eating away at her.

“Maybe. We’ve only been dating a few months. I’m just worried about my brother going off on him.” She pulled out her wallet as she continued to speak.

“I mean, the last time I was dating someone, Roe went full Blutbad on the guy and I could never get a date after that. This is the first guy I’ve dated in years, and I really like him. I don’t want to mess that up.” Taking to leaning against the counter and watching the Fuchsbau measure out the tea and square it away, she continued her lament. Rosalee looked up at her future sister-in-law.

“Look, I get it with your brother. He can be a bit intense. But I will keep him on his best behavior. Is that why you don’t want to introduce them?” She asked, ringing up her family discount for the tea.

“Yeah. That last guy, he looked at me like I was a freak after my brother woged at him. Haven’t been able to get over that stare since. And then he told every other wesen at our school to stay away from me and my ‘psycho’ brother. Never wanted to hurt a Hundjäger so badly in my life.” Placing some bills on the counter, she grabbed the package of tea from the woman, who held her hand gently.

“Bring him to dinner tomorrow. Juliette and I will make sure everyone is on their best behavior. There won’t be a repeat of that.” Rosalee reassured the Blutbad in her care. The other wesen nodded, and placed a hand on top of the other.

“I will, Rosalee.” They both smiled, and let each other go. As the female Blutbad left her shop, the Fuchsbau could not help but let her mind wander as she began to clean up a little bit. Did she even have zauberbiest come into the shop? It’s so hard to tell sometimes, let alone if they are half. All at once, Rosalee had a revelation. She knew who it was.

“Oh no.”

Meanwhile, in the precinct Nick watched from his desk as his captain seemed preoccupied with his phone. It was an unusual behavior which is why it drew the young man’s attention.

“What are you staring at so intensely, Nick?” Hank asked from his desk right next to him.

“It’s the captain. He’s been on his phone more and more today.” The detective pointed out.

“Maybe he’s making plans for Christmas dinner tomorrow night. It’s not a crime for him to be on his phone to make plans Nick.” He tried to explain the behavior away, but Burkhardt shook his head.

“See that?” He called attention to a certain quirk of the face. “He’s smiling. There’s no one in his life that he smiles genuinely for anymore. I think he’s got a girlfriend.” Nick said finally in disbelief.

“If anyone needs a good woman to keep him grounded, it’s definitely the captain. Just be happy for once and don’t profile the man.” Griffin shook his head and turned back to his files, prompting his partner to follow suit. But their attention was called away again as the captain’s office door was flung open.

“Where are you going?” Hank asked, watching the man move fast; it was as fast as he would move if they were on a case.

“Oh, I need to go pick up something for someone. You two should go home, and enjoy Christmas Eve with your families. I’ll see you later.” And with that, he was gone. The two detectives sat there, dumbfounded.

“I’ll be damned; the captain has a lady.” Hank muttered to himself, stopping his work for a moment. Checking the time, Nick stretched his back while standing from the chair.

“Alright, you heard the man. Let’s get out of here. Hey, see you at dinner tomorrow night?” Burkhardt asked of his partner. Griffin nodded and followed suit; both men grabbing their jackets from the back of their chairs in order to leave.

“You know it. I’m not one to turn down a free meal.” Hank joked, stepping out into the parking lot of the precinct. The men said their goodbyes and made their ways home.

In the Calvert-Monroe household though, a full blown argument was about to boil over. They had been going at it since the subject was brought up at dinner. It had lasted from the appetizer, all the way to clean up before dessert.

“All I’m saying is that I would like to meet her boyfriend before he comes over. What if he’s a lowen?” Monroe complained, handing washed dishes to his girlfriend.

“Do you honestly think your sister would date a lowen?” Rosalee countered, drying off the plate to stack.

“You’re right. Still,” he continued, “I just don’t want her to date someone that’s just going to break her heart. I mean, all the guys in high school she liked were totally not for her.” The Blutbad paused for a moment, and rested his soapy wet hands against the sink. Setting down the towel, Rosalee wrapped her arms around her boyfriend and cradled his face.

“She really likes this guy, Monroe. Don’t go over board. Besides, he’s not the worst choice for her.” Turning back to the task at hand, it took the man a second too long to process what the Fuchsbau had said.

“Wait, do you know who she’s dating?” Monroe questioned, watching Rosalee’s face take on an air of faux innocence.

“Maybe. Maybe not. She didn’t explicitly tell me who it was. I just worked it out from what little she did tell me.” She began to place her dishes away, but it seemed that Monroe was not yet done.

“Come on, who is it? Who is she dating?” But the woman said nothing.

“Rosalee.” He growled out in a warning tone, to which she finally faced her boyfriend and rested her hands on her hips.

“The only thing I will say, is that you have met him before. That is it. Now, cake?” Rosalee went to retrieve the chocolate cake from the fridge, leaving Monroe there in the kitchen.

“I’m gonna be kept up all night now.” He complained, but followed his girlfriend into the dining room to have dessert.

The next morning, was a morning of rest. Christmas had come, and everyone was preparing for the festivities that would soon come. Sneaking out of her shared bedroom, a Blutbad began to make breakfast for her lover that was still asleep in their bed. It still astounded her that she could even call this place, this bed, this man, her’s.

Vegan sausages were being fried, toast, pancakes, and several smaller side dishes covered the counter in the kitchen. It continued to shock her at how far vegan alternatives had come as she put the fake eggs in the pan to scramble. As she cooked, two strong bare arms wrapped around her waist. A kiss was placed to her head from behind as the mystery arms relaxed.

“Good morning. It’s not often that I get breakfast made for me.” The voice grumbled out, still thick with sleep.

“Who says this is for you?” She teased. Making sure that nothing would burn, she turned briefly in the man’s arms to come face to face with him. Sage green eyes gazed lovingly into her own, but shut momentarily as they met for a kiss. Her lips molded to her own, and reluctantly she pulled away from the beautiful shirtless man before her, in favor of ensuring their breakfast would not be wasted.

“It’s almost done. Want to go ahead and start putting food on the table?” One last kiss was pressed to her head, along with a squeeze at her waist, and he was off. Soon, the whole table was littered with food.

“Thank you for making this.” He commented genuinely, holding her hand over the steaming food. Suddenly, she hoped up as if a light bulb went off in her head, and she made her way to the kitchen. When she came out yet again, a mug was in her hands this time around.

“What is that?” Came his question, taking the mug and maneuvering it next to his other cup of coffee.

“It’s one of your Christmas presents. Try it.” Sitting down, she watched with bated breath as he brought the mug to his lips, and took a tentative sip. His face lit up and he eagerly took another sip.

“This is delicious. What is it?” Another question, and he was reaching for her hand once more.

“It’s a tea blend from a friend’s shop. I thought it’d be nice to help you wind down after work.” She explained, happy that she was able to get one of two correct.

“This is wonderful. I genuinely appreciate this. Let’s eat though. You went through all this work.” And with that, they dug into the food that littered the table before them. It was not too much longer before they sat themselves on the couch, and enjoyed each others company with presents to either side.

“Here you go.” The man placed a rather heavy wrapped present in her lap, and watched her with eager eyes. She tore into the paper, and leveled her boyfriend with a look as she saw what she had.

“Really, Sean?” Her tone was dry, and she tried to fight the smile coming onto her face. However, with her boyfriend sporting one himself, it was rather hard.

“What? You could always use another book, and I thought you might enjoy the stories.” Said man tried to explain away.

“You gave me a collection of brothers Grimm fairytales!” She exclaimed.

“And you’re not wanting to read them?” He leveled her with another look, which made her shrink down into herself.

“Yes. I’m going to read them.” Muttering under her breath, she placed the book to her side and grasped the other box that was next to her. She placed it in her lover’s lap, and awaited his reaction. Sean gently unwrapped the present, and opened the box that was in his hands. His face dropped in surprise, and his eyes danced over the present he had.

“Do you like it?” Timidly, she inquired. There was no telling what his reaction was going to be. Sean’s hand reached in and pulled out the small object that was awaiting him. It was a ring. Tiny and unassuming, which described his lover but that was not what caught his attention. It was what was on the inside of the ring. An inscription dated September 23rd of that year; their anniversary.

“You don’t like it? It’s fine if you don’t. I just thought maybe you would. I can take it back though if you don’t want it. I’m sure I could at least get store-” she never finished her rambling, because her boyfriend had surged forward and captured her lips in his. They remained locked in their embrace for who knows how long, but she was pushed against the couch in the midst of it. Alas, they pulled away for some much needed oxygen.

“Do you like it?” She repeated her inquiry.

“I love it.” He replied, breathlessly. Helping her back up, Sean allowed her to slip the ring on to his left pinky finger. On the outside, it just looked like a simple silver band, but the fact that he knew that there was that inscription inside made it feel like a known secret. And it was all his.

“This is funny actually.” Sean reached behind him and found the box next to him once more. She was confused as to what he was talking about, and took the box gingerly from his hands. Opening, she let out a small chuckle as to what was inside.

“Now, now, you still have to get my brother on your side.” Once again, she was teasing him. He chuckled as well, but pulled the ring from the box.

“It’s a promise ring.” Sean slipped the ring on to her right ring finger. The emerald in the center, with the silver surrounding it instantly drew her eyes to the sparkling stone.

“This is going to turn some heads at dinner tonight.” Her mind could not help but think about what was going to happen.

“I’ll be right by your side.” Drawing her into his arms, Sean pressed a kiss to her head, and cradled her close.

A few hours later, the couple was dressed up and ready to leave. One last spray of perfume and the jewelry was placed on her body before they left for the evening. Her leg could not stop bouncing as they neared their destination. Sean reached over and held her thigh in hi grasp, which allowed her to calm down just enough. He parked on the side of the road and helped his girlfriend safely exit the car onto the icy sidewalks. They walked up to the door with stained glass, and she took a deep breath.

“You can still back out, you know?” She tried to tell her boyfriend, but he just held her by the shoulders and looking into her eyes.

“I’m not scared by meeting your family. It’s going to be fine.” Sean tried to reassure her.

“Alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” And with that, she knocked. Just a moment later, the door opened and revealed a festive looking Fuchsbau.

“You made it!” Rosalee cheered, hugging her boyfriend’s sister close. Letting go, she turned to face the man standing next to her.

“Captain.” She greeted politely, and held out her hand for him to shake.

“Rosalee. It’s good to see you again.” This confused the Blutbad standing between them.

“You know each other?” She wondered aloud. Renard and Rosalee looked at each other.

“I think you’ll find a lot of the people here have met each other at least once.” Rosalee responded cryptically. She pulled them in and out of the cold, before taking their coats to their spare room. The couple wandered through the house and found where the rest of the group was hanging around. She got to watch Sean’s eyes take in her brother’s Christmas decorations that littered the room. The sheer amount of tinsel, lights, and fake snow that was around the house was enough to make even the most Christmasy person take a step back. There was a pause as everyone stopped to stare at the couple.

“You’ve got to be joking.” Monroe stated, setting down his beer. Nick, Juliette, and Hank all turned to face where the Blutbad was staring.

“Captain? Nice to see you?” Nick drawled out confused, and followed his friend’s motion.

“Roe, everyone, this is Sean. But I’m guessing that you all know each other.” She was looking around at the rest of the guests.

“Oh, you’re dying now.” Rounding the corner at an incredible speed, there were shouts as Monroe grabbed the collar of Sean’s more casual sweater she had convinced him to wear instead of his suit. He shoved the zauberbiest against a wall, narrowly missing some decorations as he woged. By this point, Nick and Hank were trying desperately to pull him off of the man, while Juliette and Rosalee were holding and shielding the other Blutbad.

“What are you playing at? What do you want that you feel the need to date my sister?” Monroe growled out, eyes no longer human but red and black and unearthly.

“I am not dating her for a plan. I love her for her.” Sean held up his hands in surrender.

“Roe, let him go.” His sister growled, stepping out from behind the women. The man in question turned his head and let the woge fade back into his skin

“This man is not who he says he is. He’s a royal, little sis. He only told you he loves you to find a way to fit into his plans. Whatever they are.” The longer he spoke, the angrier his sister became.

“I know he’s half-royal, Roe. But that doesn’t mean that Sean doesn’t love me. Now get off of him.” Fully woge out, she grabbed her brother’s arm and threw him back enough to create some distance. The three men that were currently in front of Sean were replaced by one angry Blutbad woman. Her woge disappeared as soon as it came, and she checked in on her boyfriend.

“It’s been lovely seeing everyone, but if this is how it’s going to be, we’ll be leaving.” She said after whispering to Sean for a few moments. It shocked everyone in the room. Rosalee went to reluctantly grab their coats, while everyone else stared at Monroe with pointed glares.

“Wait!” The Blutbad called just before the couple left the party. Sean was helping her into her coat when they paused. He was entirely following her lead on this, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable or unwanted.

“I’m- I’m sorry, okay? You’re my sister and I’m always going to be protective of you. But you are an adult so I need to accept your choice. I’ll tone it down just, please, stay for dinner?” He was keeping his eyes on his sister, who returned with a less believable stare.

“You’re allowed to ask him three questions about our relationship, and three about himself. That’s it.” She replied, allowing Sean to once again, help her out of her coat. Rosalee took it back and happily went to set them on the bed once more. Monroe pulled his sister into a bear hug in the foyer of his home. When they pulled away, Sean stepped up to properly greet the Blutbad.

“You hurt my sister, I’ll break my pledge.” Monroe stared the half zauberbiest dead in the eye as he shook his hand. Renard brought out a smirk, and shook the man’s hand firmly.

“I’m slowly starting to realize the amount of people who will hurt me if I hurt her, including her.” He replied smoothly. The couple were pulled back into the fray easily. Everyone was laughing and eating, and in general, just having a great time. Looking at each other over their glasses of wine, and plates of food, Sean gave her a small wink, and held her hand. With the other, he thumbed a small velvet box the was in the pocket of his slacks. Perhaps next Christmas she would be more than a girlfriend. He needs to get through to her brother first.

[fairy-writes]

Hi! Me again, your friendly neighborhood Sean Renard lover! I was wondering if whenever you feel like writing if you would consider writing Sean being very protective over the reader and everyone is saying to him that he’s so in lover with them and he’s like “no I’m not” and then he’s like realizing that’s he’s like in love with the reader damn near devoted. Or whatever you’d like to write. I’d honestly be happy with anything you put out. But take your time, no rush needed. Just whenever you feel like it. Thank you so much!!!! Have an awesome day!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

LITTLE BIRD

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): NBC Grimm

Pairing(s): Sean Renard x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Wesen!Reader, Use of nicknames (little bird), Reader is implied to have longer hair, but it’s not explicitly stated

Notes: I hope you enjoy!

TW for violence in the latter half of the oneshot (I’ll add an extra trigger warning when that starts)

__________________________________________________________________________

“Lieutenant Renard?” Sean looks up from his desk to see Cadet Drew Wu fidgeting with his button-down cuffs. He was nineteen and green in the gills, still exploring his options as a police cadet. But even though he hadn’t fully committed to the police academy yet, he was a hard worker. 

He’d make a good police officer.

Sean sets down his pen and clears his throat.

“What’s the matter, Wu?” The police cadet stepped aside, and Sean’s jaw almost dropped at the sight of you. It was as if you had come straight from a painting. It seemed you hadn’t changed at all. Well… not exactly. You had aged, being a handful of years younger than him.

But you were still as beautiful as the day he lost you.

After all, the last time he had seen you was when his mother took him, and they fled from the Royal family out for his blood. You were but a fledgling that hadn’t yet sprouted in your full glory.

You both stare at each other before Wu swallows awkwardly and takes his leave. Then, you take a seat at his desk and smile,

“It’s certainly been a while, Sean.” You say quietly, and he feels his heart stutter at your warm words.

It had been years since anyone other than his mother was so full of kindness for him.

He sets down his pen and leans his forearms on the desk.

“How did you find me?” He asks seriously, and you shrug 

“I have my ways. You should know this by now.” You tease, and your eyes flash a deep glowing blue for just a second. So quick, in fact, that he almost missed it. Feathers as black as pitch shuddered down your hairline before disappearing into your tresses.

Sometimes he forgot you were wesen. A Raub-Kondor, to be exact. And a brilliant one at that. You were often employed, even at a young age, by the Royal Families to track down and “take care of” certain traitors or deserters. It was how he met you in the first place. The thought of your job made him shudder,

“Are you here to get rid of me?” At this, you looked downright offended, eyes going wide and mouth dropping open ever so slightly.

“Of course not!” You hiss, and he feels his shoulders relax. He wasn’t in danger after all. You notice his palpable relief and smile that smile that makes his heart skip a beat. 

The two of you part ways with the promise of meeting up for coffee. Your number is stored safely in Sean’s phone, and you even send him a text saying, “It’s me :)” and he can’t help but smile at the little emoji. You were always lighthearted despite all the blood on your hands. 

You shift in place, eyes scanning every face in the small coffee shop as you wait for Sean to arrive. You check your phone and scroll through the brief messages you had shared with your childhood friend. He wasn’t the best conversationalist via texting. He typically preferred a call over texts. 

“Have you been waiting long?” Comes his voice, and you jump, knee jerking up and hitting the underside of the table. Your eyes meet his, and he offers a half smile, clearly amused by your reaction.

“Not at all. I just got here a few minutes ago. I took the liberty of ordering you a coffee, black with one sugar, if I remember right?” You say, ears burning at your surprise at his arrival. He sheds his long overcoat, drapes it over the chair across from the booth you were in, and takes a seat. 

“You remember correctly. I’m surprised you remember after all this time.” 

At that, you duck your head, ears burning even more in embarrassment. 

“I try to remember everything about you.” You say quietly, so quietly that he can barely hear it. But obviously, he does because his face splits into a warm grin. 

He looks so handsome when he smiles. 

The waitress brings over your drinks and a slice of chocolate cake that you ordered. You visibly brighten at the sight of the sweet treat and nearly dig in when you remember your manners. 

“Would you like some?” You offer, noting the waitress had gone through the trouble to give you an extra fork for the occasion. Sean, sipping his coffee, shakes his head. 

“Thank you, but I’ll pass for now. I know how much you adore your sweets.” He teases and you roll your eyes, secretly happy that you get the chocolate dessert all to yourself. 

The cake is absolutely demolished in a few minutes flat, though you were careful not to get any crumbs on your clothes. Then, you start on your coffee. 

“I see you still are a sugar addict,” Sean says as you add sugar to your bitter drink. You huff but stir and take a sip of the sweetened beverage. Perfect. 

“I prefer the term sugar motivated.” You say, and he chuckles, making your breath catch, but you hide it quickly by taking another sip. 

You thought your crush on the bastard prince had died over the years. 

Clearly not. 

“So…” You start, and he looks up from his coffee, eyebrow raised. “How’s life here in Portland?” He hums, glancing around the coffee shop before answering. 

“It’s certainly different than Vienna. But enough about me… Why are you here?” He asks, suddenly serious, and you have to fight the urge to sit up straight. 

You should’ve guessed he would ask something like this. It had taken you years to track him down to the Portland area. And for what? But you knew better than to lie. 

So… 

You didn’t. 

“I missed you. As stupid as it sounds, I missed having someone to talk to. Well… that and your mother is concerned about you joining the police department. She’s worried it’ll put a target on your back.” You say, and Sean sits back in his chair, stirring his coffee absentmindedly as he mulls over your words. 

“I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine. I’m surrounded by good people.” He says, and you raise an eyebrow skeptically. Thankfully, Sean takes your concern seriously. He always has. 

“But what if things go wrong?” You ask, and he shrugs a shoulder. 

“If it makes you feel any better, you are more than welcome to stay here in Portland to keep an eye on me.” You smile at his words, 

“I’d like that.” 

Despite your promises to keep out of the way, you quickly become absorbed into his little work family. As the years go on and the precinct grows, you are always a constant at his side. You attend his promotion ceremony from his previous ranks to precinct captain, and he holds your gaze the entire time as he gives his speech. 

Even as people come up and congratulate him, he finds himself only wanting your attention. He couldn’t care less about everyone else. 

He feels a smaller hand slip into his, and he looks to find you smiling up at him. He sets down his glass of champagne, still mildly embarrassed that the precinct threw this shindig for him. 

“Congratulations, Sean.” You whisper, and he hides a smile, but you still catch the twitch of his lips, and your smile widens. 

He’s about to say something, but you are both interrupted. 

“Is this your spouse?” Hank Griffin, homicide detective, and one of the most senior staff at the department. He’s followed by the newer homicide detective and his new work partner, Nick Burkhardt. Sean huffs out a dry laugh and shakes his head,

“Nothing like that. They’re a childhood friend, that’s all.” He says, and Hank nods, not entirely convinced.

Why was everyone doing that when he introduced you? Hell, even Wu didn’t seem to believe him.

Later, Sean spies you chatting with Nick as you raid the dessert table. You’re polite, and he feels his heart clench as Nick says something to make you laugh. Feathers shift down your hairline like they did whenever you half-woged, and he sees Nick’s face drop, but he hides the expression by the time you look up from your sweets. And that makes the clenched feeling in Sean’s heart twist more. 

Was he a Grimm?

He’d have to look into this more. 

Sean, ever the gentleman, walks you to your car after the celebration of his promotion. You, feeling adventurous, slip your hand into his and swing them back and forth ever so slightly. 

Surprisingly, he doesn’t complain. He even squeezes your hand. 

“I just wanted to say congratulations again.” You say as he opens your car door. You squeeze his hand once more, and he offers a quick quirk of his lips that you almost miss. 

“I couldn’t have done it without you, little bird.” He says and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. You feel your cheeks heat up and hide an embarrassed smile. 

He always was the cheeky one. 

Feeling a bit bold, you lean out our car window just as he leans down to presumably tell you goodbye and kiss his cheek. He freezes, eyes widening ever so slightly in shock, but he doesn’t say anything. 

He remains like that as you drive away, brushing his cheek with his fingers.

You chew on your lip as you watch him disappear in your rearview mirror. 

Hopefully, you didn’t mess things up by doing that. 

You don’t hear from Sean for several days. And it’s making you nervous. Had you overstepped your boundaries? Had you misread the signs from all your little coffee outings? 

The book in front of you failed to hold your attention as you glanced from the words on the page to the cellular device next to you. After another thirty minutes, just when you were about to give up on reading, your phone buzzed. 

Buzz… buzz buzz… buzz buzz…

The book was hastily bookmarked, and you scooped up the phone and swiped right to answer the call.

“Hello?” You said, trying to seem… well… not breathless or like you were anticipating the call. 

“Are you busy?” Sean asks, sounding ragged as if he had been working for three days straight. 

His new promotion must be wearing him down.

“I was just reading. Is everything okay?” You ask and hear a quiet hum on the other end.

“Might I invite you to dinner tonight?” Your heart skips a beat. 

Dinner… that was a step up from coffee dates. 

A big step up. 

You make a noise to let him know you hadn’t died at the suggestion (though you certainly felt like you were about to pass out).

“I suppose I might be free tonight. Let's say we eat at seven o’clock?” You tease him gently and hear him write something down. 

“I’ll pick you up.” He says, and you can’t help but smile. 

“That sounds lovely.” 

VIOLENCE STARTS HERE

Dinner doesn’t go as planned. 

Sean’s car rumbles as he waits for you to come out of your hotel room. He had offered to let you stay with him at his new house; he had a spare bedroom after all, but you had declined. Instead, you had told him you were a big kid and could take care of yourself. 

A shadow moved inside your hotel room on the second floor, and he looked up, a frown pulling his lips down. What was taking you so long? You hadn’t even responded to his text saying he had arrived. Should he call you? 

He pulls up your contact and is about to press the call button when you come exploding through the window in a rain of glass and chaos. 

Coincidentally, you land on the hood of his car, and his airbags deploy as you cave in the metal.

There’s someone on top of you, hands wrapped around your neck and squeezing like your life depended on it. He can see your hands going limp, and he darts from his car and draws his gun that he keeps with him at all times. 

“PORTLAND PD! DON’T MOVE!” He bellows, and the person jerks their head up to look at him, eyes wild and glowing yellow. 

A Mauvais Dentes.

The sabertoothed wesen leaped at him as he felt his face change in his woge. 

He fired. 

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The man fell, his woge rippling across his skin and retracting the fangs and fur into his body until he looked like a regular man again. 

Sean ran to your side, where you lay gasping on top of his car, pulling out his phone and dialing 911 as he went. 

“911, what’s the location of your emergency?” 

“This is Captain Sean Renard of the Portland Police Department. There’s a man who’s been killed and someone else who is gravely injured.” He started and rattled off your address, begging first responders to hurry because you looked terrible. 

You had been in the middle of getting ready—a blouse stained in blood and shredded to bits, trousers, and you weren’t wearing shoes. Your throat isn’t much better. Sean can see where the Mauvais Denetes had punctured your skin, and its oozing blood at a sluggish pace. Your woge ripples under your skin and the tar-black feathers retract into your face. Your beak disappears, and when you open your eyes, they’re glassy. 

“Stay with me, little bird, stay with me.” He says as he sheds his suit coat and tears it into strips to tie around your wound to hopefully staunch the bleeding. 

“Sean?” You gurgle, and he hushes you,

“Don’t speak. An ambulance is on the way.” He says, and you nod once, closing your eyes again, and he listens to your breathing. 

It doesn’t sound good. 

He only hopes that you make it to the hospital.

Time slows. The ambulance and police arrive after what feels like hours. Blood has stained Sean’s trousers, but he doesn’t care. All that matters is you. 

The first responders load you carefully into the ambulance and stop Sean before he can get in with you. 

“I’m riding with them.” He snarled, and the two workers looked at each other before one stepped aside and allowed him to sit beside you. He holds your hand until they hook you up to get your vitals. You open your eyes again and wheeze,

“Sean?” You gasp, and he holds your grasping fingers.

“I’m here, little bird.” He whispers, and his heart is broken as he hears you whimper. 

“Don’t leave me.” You whimper, and he stands as the ambulance rumbles into motion and presses a kiss to your forehead,

“Never.” He says and knows deep in his soul that he means it. 

Because he loves you too much to let you go.

[evilfloralfoolery]

Daggers and Deception - Part III

The two neighbors meet. Neither is what the other expects. ___________________________

Indigo adds a bit more tea to a second infuser and grabs the kettle full of water.  Surely the other man has mugs.  His own quarters are well-furnished in this aspect.  

After pausing to stuff another handkerchief or two into his pocket, he exits the room and walks into the hallway.  As promised, the door beside his own is wide open in invitation.  He hesitates only a moment before stepping across the threshold, rapping his knuckles against the wood.

"It's your neighbor calling,"  he says.

Heavy, booted footsteps from the kitchen.  "In here." 

The man's voice is a deep, rumbling growl of sound even more nuanced than Indigo imagined.  Low and soft, with the potential for menace or gentility in equal measure.  He pads across the creaking wooden floors, the heels of his shoes tapping upon the slats.

He halts with a short, barely audible gasp.  His neighbor is a shirtless tower of muscle and ink, broad shoulders nearly twice the width of Indigo's own, sprawling, intricate tattoos covering not only his back, but his arms as well.  Dark hair rests just past his shoulders in casual disarray, the strap of a sling crossing his back, a pad of gauze taped near his shoulder blade.

He glances over one shoulder before turning to face Indigo full-on and Indigo must keep the facade of his placid demeanor firmly in place.  

"Hey," he says.

Indigo wets his lips and commands his voice to obey.

"Good afternoon," he says a bit too formally.

The topmost portion of the man's hair is pulled away in haphazard ponytail, exposing the chiseled line of his jaw which is peppered with a short beard that is more stubble than hair.  But it is the eyes that truly capture Indigo's attention, a dark cognac hue that observes him with a fierce intelligence and calculation so intense that he nearly takes a step back.

"You can set that wherever," the man says, nodding towards the kettle.  "I'm sure I've got mugs in here somewhere."

Indigo sets the kettle upon the nearest burner and extends a hand to his neighbor.  "Indigo," he says.

Calloused fingers slide into a firm but gentle grip to meet his own.  "Grimm," he says.  "Nice to put a face to the piano playing."

"Oh, dear," Indigo says.  "I do hope I did not keep you awake at all hours of the night.  I hadn't any idea the walls were so thin."

"Nah," Grimm says.  "The opposite, actually.  Couldn't sleep.  Listening to you helped."  A hint of smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth.  "When you weren't sneezing your ass off."

Indigo laughs a bit self-consciously.  "Yes, well.  I seem to have been blind-sided by nature.  We haven't such abundant plant life in the city limits." 

"Hmn."  Grimm glances out of the kitchen window.  "It's kinda nice.  You know, if it wasn't so damn quiet." 

He reaches for the cabinet door and Indigo does not miss the slight wince that accompanies the gesture.  So, this explained it, then.  Clearly, the man was suffering from a rather painful injury if reaching for something with his good arm was that difficult.

"Please, allow me," Indigo says.  "After all, I am the one who offered."

Grimm steps aside without comment and Indigo rifles through the cabinet for a moment before coming away with two mugs, neither of which coordinate with the other, much to his chagrin.  And amusement.

"Well, then," he says.  "Do you prefer Christmas from 1982 or Mother of the Year?"

A low chuckle.  "You should take a look at the bowls."

Indigo snorts.  "I believe I shall spare myself the indignity." 

The dark bass of Grimm's voice is marred by something thicker, an edge of congestion from. . .

Well, certainly not the gratuitous floral nonsense weaving itself into every possible corner of the estate.  

No, this is something else.  The first dregs of some manner of illness.

Oh.  Oh no. 

“Wanna sit?”

Indigo snaps out of his overly analytical train of thought. 

“Yes, thank you.”

After removing the infuser, he pours the other man a generous serving of the steaming liquid before tending to himself.

The behemoth of a man sinks down into the nearest chair, the slow unfurling of his limbs in an almost indecent sprawl, accompanied by a low groan of what could be either relief or pain. 

"Sorry about my half-naked bullshit," he says.  "Hard to put a shirt on with all this crap."  He nods towards his bandaged shoulder before taking a sip of his tea, a strange, almost genteel gesture that belies his impressive stature.  "Hmm, this is good shit.  What is it?"

"Jasmine green," Indigo says. "A favorite of mine."  He pauses with an abrupt stiffening of his spine and sets the mug down upon the end  table in a haste, fumbling to jerk the handkerchief free of his pocket just in time to muffle a harsh “--EKTSSCHiih!”  Or two.  Three.  Great gods. 

"Hmmn."  Grimm arches an eyebrow.  "Maybe you shouldn't be drinking shit with flowers in it, buddy." 

Indigo dabs at his eye with a chuckle.  "Do excuse me," he says. 

"Yeah, yeah."  Grimm shrugs his good shoulder, flicking his gaze to the couch where Indigo sits and squints.  "Been doin’ a little of that myself. Dusty shit in here.” 

A quick glance around the dated-yet-pristine room attests otherwise.

What a curious form of denial.

They sip their tea in silence for a moment before his neighbor puts down the now-empty cup and regards him with a slight lift of his head, fingers tugging through a ruffled section of his dark hair.

"So," he says.  "What are you in for?"

"In for?" 

Grimm gestures to the room.  "You didn't come here for a fucking vacation." 

"Mmm, and what if I did just that?"  Indigo says.

"I'd say you're lyin'.” 

Indigo chuckles.  How delightfully direct.  A pleasant change from overly saccharine formalities and such.

"It's a bit of professional burnout, I'm afraid," Indigo explains.  "I was ordered by my employer to take a rest, although I'm not certain as to why he insisted upon this place in particular.  Seems to be quite the odd choice."

"Hmph, tell me about it."  Grimm scratches at the strap across his shoulder and brushes a stray strand of hair away from his eyes.  Sniffles almost liquidly.  Clears his throat. "So, what's the burnout?  If you can't talk about it or some shit--"

"Oh, no," Indigo interrupts with a wave of his hand.  "It's quite uninteresting, really."  He crosses one leg over the other and sits up a bit straighter.  "I am the editor-in-chief at a leading publishing house.  Apparently, I've run myself a bit ragged keeping up with the literary whims of a rather troublesome young writer."

"Huh."  Grimm rubs at the fuzz on his chin again, an absently thoughtful gesture.  "Didn't think book editing could make you crazy enough for the nature nut house."

Indigo suppresses a snort of amusement into a cupped hand.  "And you?"

Grimm leans back in the chair.  “I got shot," he says. 

So matter-of-fact.  Blunt.  As if such a thing were a mere occupational hazard.  And perhaps it was.

"Shot?" Indigo repeats.

"Yeah," Grimm says.  "Tried to stop some guy from shooting a client.  Guess he got mad about it."  He shrugs his good shoulder.  "Ain't  the first time." 

"The first time being shot or the first time you've angered a man with a gun?" Indigo asks with as much polite decorum as possible.

Those striking eyes fix him with a stare that is somehow both casual and frank.  "Both."

It is, of course, at this point that his tea companion loses his rather iron-clad grip on his physical composure, his expression dissolving into a helplessness that is so contrary to stern assessment, Indigo has to fight to keep his own composure casual.

“---hhh-huuh! UHCHISSSH!” Grimm makes a rather poor attempt at ducking into the crook of his uninjured elbow.  

He straightens with a soft hiss of an inhalation, lips thinning into a slight grimace.  “Sorry. Don’t know what my problem is.” 

Indigo certainly does. He also does not miss the fine trickle of sweat the ebbs down the side of Grimm’s neck, losing itself in his hair before it can travel further.

“No apology necessary.”  Indigo waves his hand again in a dismissive gesture. "Have they given you nothing for the pain, then?"

A wry, almost huff of a laugh.  "They gave me something. I just ain't taking it." 

"And why not?"  Indigo asks.

Grimm shifts in his chair in an effort to better accommodate whatever discomfort might be plaguing him.  "I don't wanna be groggy and out of it," he says.  "Gotta be alert in this field."

"Yes, well." Indigo adjusts his spectacles with the push of a finger.  "I can certainly understand the need for vigilance, but given your current location, perhaps a bit of relaxation is not only allowed, but expected."

"I don't know how to do that," Grimm says.  "Sending me out here isn't gonna make a damn bit of difference."

Indigo could see that.  Here was a man who appeared to enjoy a casual conversation with a stranger, but the calculated assessment of his stare attested otherwise.  Every movement, every breath, every flicker of emotional content was being cataloged, observed, and graded for appropriateness of response.  Even now, his gaze has shifted to the folded handkerchief that rests upon Indigo's lap a moment before Indigo's sinuses prickle, forcing another muffled “MmphKTSCH!”

"Gods," he mumbles.  "Do excuse me."

"Damn," Grimm says when he gives a repeat performance.  "So, you know there's a nurse or caretaker or whatever somewhere, right?  Pretty sure she'd give you something to stop that, if you asked her." 

Indigo dabs at the corner of his eye beneath his glasses with a sniff.  "Thank you, but I'm not quite that desperate yet.  I would prefer to keep my wits about me as best I . . . ." His voice trails into nothingness as Grimm leans forward with a slow tilt of his head.

"Huh," he says. "Didn't think you need your 'wits' to edit shit."

Indigo arches an eyebrow, leans back against the couch. "I disclosed no such information."

"You always this damn formal?" 

"Are you always such an interrogatory delight?”

Grimm smirks, strokes the edges of his chin again, audibly scratching at the fine covering of hair with his short nails. “Okay, smartass.” He rises to his feet, mug in hand.  "Gonna see if there's any of that flower tea left."

Flower tea.  Indigo resists the urge to chuckle into his palm.  The man is oddly charming in his blunt, almost abrasive way.  Not at all what Indigo expected, really, especially not from a tattooed mountain of muscle.

(TBC.....)

[athena-xox]

Lemme see if I’m getting this right

Giles missed the lesson and asked around for the homework / what other people were doing and copied it, Milton slapped his name on it as if it was a group project and then when he saw someone do it better than Giles he stole their paper

[grimmtells]

What would an interaction between Arlekin and Pomni be like?

✦ Here's an interaction they had ! Probably happens around a week into Pomni arriving at the circus and still struggling to find her mark (this third person, but mostly pomni's pov/thoughts)

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Pomni sat silently at the border of the digital lake, far away from the tent and dipping her feet or — shapeless whatevers that they were — in the water. She stared idly at her reflexion, absentmindedly inspecting the details of this new face that had replaced her own ; those saturated pinwheel eyes, that clownish white face, those miserable strands of hair… she'd never really been a massive fan of her face before, but it was arguably better than this one.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't feel the presence floating up to her when gloved hands grabbed her shoulders.

“Ah, there you are !”

“AAAGH—”

Pomni shrieked, taken aback by the sudden pull-back to earth and yanked herself away.

SPLASH

Unfortunately, that way was the lake. Pomni quickly swam to the surface, coughing up some of the digital water she almost choked on, only to hear an obnoxiously pompous laugh. She looked up, all too annoyed at the sight of the circus’ other jester, Arlekin.

“Oh, my dear colourful little Pierrot, you're so silly aren't you ?” He smirked, “Were you dying to go for a swim that much ? You'd no need to wait for me ! Ah ah ah~”

Pomni glared at him, getting herself out of the lake and squeezing the water out of her hat.

“What do you want,” she groaned, not very inclined to have any lasting conversation with him.

“How delightful that you’d ask !” He hummed, clasping his hands together, “See, like I told you before, myself and Kaufmo used to perform together-” 

Before he could even finish, Pomni’s eye twitched as her annoyance bubbled into anger.

“I DON'T want to perform anything with you,” she scowled, “I don't care what you and Kaufmo did, I'm not Kaufmo and I happen to think you're a jack%$!#.” Her words were sharp, but none seemed to wipe off the smirk on his face as he eyed her down. “Like I told you before, I'm not doing any stupid skit with you.”

“Oh, you wound me !” He dramatically bemoaned, feigning offence and pretending to clutch imaginary pearls.

But after squeezing enough water out of her hat, she grabbed her shoes and made a beeline for the tent without sparing him another glance. That didn't mean the mask-faced jerk wasn't following her, though.

“Please.” He scoffed, “Call Jax a ruffian all you want, but me ? I'm just teasing you, Poms, nothing so dreadful as you make it sound like !”

“We don't have the same definition of teasing,” She responded dryly.

Arlekin floated to her side, resting his face on his hands while wearing an amused look. 

“We also have differing definitions of fun, amore, yet I'm at least putting in an effort for us to get along~” He hummed.

Pomni shot him a baffled glare.

“Ugh,” she huffed under her breath, picking up the pace. She wasn't about to play mental gymnastics with him.

Intentionally lagging behind, Arlekin crossed his arms, smirking still.

“I give you a few weeks, tops.” He shot, flatly.

Pomni halted her tracks. For a second, she tried to tell herself he wasn't referring to what she thought he was referring to.

“A few weeks for what ?” She asked with an air of unease, her eyebrows slightly furrowed as she kept her back to him.

“Before you abstract, of course.~”

He said that so matter of factly that when she turned around to face him, he looked almost darkly disturbing to her, just for a moment.

“What are you saying ?” She breathed, clutching her shoes.

“Ah ah ah, oh my dear, don't shoot the messenger.” He waved a hand dismissively, “it's just an observation, a fair warning you could even say.~”

“An observation ?” She frowned, completely appalled, “saying I'm basically gonna die is an observation ?” She took a step forward, never feeling so ready to hit someone square in the jaw as she did in that moment.

Arlekin sighed theatrically, like he was the one dealing with a difficult case.

“You sweet, worryingly dim-witted thing,” he said, “like a dainty doe, immobile as a statue in the face of a speeding car's headlights ✧” He recited, in a light, breathy voice, like he was narrating something.

“What the f—” 

“Don't you see ?” He cut her off, floating right up to her face, “that you're doing everything in your power, intentional or not, to abstract?”

“What ? I—” She stammered, “I haven’t—”

“And don't say you haven't been doing that.” He countered, glaring down at her, “Jax told you Kinger has been here the longest, but you've not been told yet that oldest circus member he may be, I, among this group, am the second oldest resident.”

Pomni frowned. Was he boasting about it ? He continued.

“And unlike Kinger, I am still sane enough to catch the warning signs.” He added, “Isolation, Pomni, is not the solution. Desolation as you mournfully miss your former self isn't either. I suggest, you do not think too much of the past, for your sake and our own.” 

He sounded strangely curt, despite smirking through all this. Almost like he’d told this many times before, enough times to be annoyed to have to repeat himself.

“I—” Pomni struggled finding her words, “Why would you care, anyway?”

“Oh, do you think me so inhumane ?” He scoffed, “Nobody likes a funeral, you see.” The humour had a hint of sourness, “but if you wanna be the next portrait everyone speaks morosely of, be my guest !~”

“Wha, i don't— !”

“You don't? Deepest apologies, I really thought you did, with the way you behaved.” He snarked, “whether you like it or not, this is your new body” He pointed to her, “this is your new home,” he gestured all around them, “and there is no exit.” He spat, his face now scrunched in anger for the first time, “so if you want the slightest. slither. of chance. at staying sound of mind, I suggest you try to be a tad more positive, invested, dare I say. Else, we'll have another sorry crossed-out face among bedroom doors.”

Pomni’s face was a mix of confusion and agitation. She didn't like how genuine he sounded. No matter how honest he looked, she couldn't help but feel this didn't come from a place of worry for her. Yet, he did look very mad, why ? 

She breathed in and out sharply to collect her thoughts.

“I'm still not doing any — skit or performance thing with you,” she maintained as sternly as she could, “but— fine. I'll start being more— ... involved,” she conceded.

Immediately, Arlekin's smile returned.

“Baby steps, tesoro,” he cooed, “Even I know to praise efforts being made.”

Pomni watched him waltz away to the tent, humming a little melody to himself. This whole thing left her feeling slightly more uncomfortable than before.

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You guys interpret all that however you want 👀

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Most translations of the Grimms' Kinder- und Hausmärchen leave out the author's notes on the fairy tales. Margaret Hunt's does not and I am very grateful to her, because it means I do not have to translate this variant of Snow White myself:

A Count and Countess were driving past three heaps of white snow, and the Count said," How I wish I had a girl as white as this snow! "Soon they came to three pits filled with red blood, and again he spoke, and said, "I wish I had a girl with cheeks as red as this blood." Finally, three black ravens flew by, and he wished for "a girl with hair as black as those ravens." When they had driven a little farther they met a girl white as snow, red as blood, and with hair as black as the ravens, and this was Snow-white. The Count at once made her come into the carriage and loved her, but the Countess did not, and thought of nothing but how to get rid of her. At last she let her glove fall out and commanded Snow-white to find it again, but in the meantime made the coachman drive quickly away. And now Snow-white was alone and came to the dwarfs.

Sadly the Grimms do not record whether this version also ends up with her surviving poison and waking up as soon as the apple is dislodged from her throat, but I personally would not even doubt this girl surviving a knife to the heart.

If I suddenly saw a mysterious child white as snow, red as blood, and black as ravens - after first encountering three pits full of blood and three ravens - my first instinct would not be to order her into my carriage and drive off with her.

The dwarves were probably delighted to meet her, as she's obviously not human either.

[iiitsnotbase]

Iyengar and the Portrayal of Class and Power in her Games.

Since its origin in 1974, Dungeons and Dragons has been used to tell multiple types of stories, all depending on the players at the table and the dungeon master at the head of it. Most of these games (and other Tabletop roleplaying games, of course) tend to have a central theme in common, which is the theme of power. Whether that be a power over the world, for example, a king or nobility or dragon terrorising the nation, or the gods having power, or anything in between those, power always comes into play. Especially when it is commonly argued that one person at those tables, the dungeon master, or the game master, has the majority of the power over the table (excluding dice rolls, obviously. Dice rolls are left to the whims of fate.). 

There is one Game Master who portrays power in not only her games, but her characters, and she portrays it well. Though at times the way she portrays this power is often subtle and un-noticed, it is there; As intrinsic to her characters as the fact that they are alive, as threaded into the worlds she builds as the people (or even stoats!) that live in them. The way is not too heavy-handed, but it is not so subtle that you cannot see it, it is a delicate balance that she always manages to strike. I am of course talking about the Game Master of (most recently, at the very least) Candela Obscura; Tide and Bone, Aabria Iyengar. Though Candela Obscura is her most recent project (as of writing, 30/2/24), she is also known for her work on Dimension 20’s A Court of Fey and Flowers, Burrows End, The Ravening War, Pirates of Leviathan, and Misfits and Magic, as well as her appearances on Critical Role and being a main cast member of World Beyond Number. She is also widely regarded in all of these fandom spaces as (jokingly) ‘One of our own’, due to her frequent appearance on fanblogs. This is also sometimes colloquially referred to as ‘getting Quiddied’. Although Iyengar’s portrayal of power is always there, it is never more obvious than in Dimension 20’s A Court of Fey and Flowers.

Whatever you are imagining for A Court Of Fey and Flowers, times it by 10, add much more court drama, secrets, espionage, and one single, drugged-up, horny Grandfather who is all the worst parts of birds, and you might have something somewhat close. The table for this season of Dimension 20 includes frequently famous fliers (bird pun fully intended) such as Emily Axford (Lady Chirp Featherfowl), Brennan Lee Mulligan (Captain K.P. Hob), and Lou Willson (Lord Squak Airavis), as well as newcomers such as Surena Marie (Gwyndolin Thistle-Hop/BINX Choppley), Oscar Montoya (Delloso de la Rue), and Omar Najam (Prince Andhera), with Aabria Iyengar at the head of it, controlling all of their fae fuckery (both literal and metaphorical).

A Court of Fey and Flowers is Bridgerton on steroids, with magic and dice and eating feathers, and it is exactly as insanely wonderful as you think it would be. Interwoven with the romance inherent to the regency genre (BINX/Prince Andhera and Delloso de la Rue/K.P. Hob), there are themes of class and social standing, not only among the general population of the courts, but among their peers. This is there right from the beginning, in fact, as across the series illegitimate marriages, secret engagements, and whole secret children are revealed. Being the Game Master of this season, Iyengar portrays these struggles with a gentle touch and an ice-cold grip, never letting you forget that they are there, waiting to be shown, in the background. 

In the very first scene we have with Axford and Wilson’s characters, we learn both must marry for power, which tips many off to the way this society works. Their Grandfather (portrayed by Iyengar), demands they marry for power. This move, on Iyengar’s part, is a masterful portal of class, and hints at the social standing the characters have in the show. Unlike every other character mentioned, these two do not belong to a court. The implications of needing to marry well so they are not tarnished and banished from future social events do not go unnoticed by the players or the audience. Axford and Wilson would both later go on to reveal their already secured, entirely inappropriate matches, and cause many issues for their Grandfather. 

Another, darker moment of power is the power that the parents have over their children in this world. ‘Parents’ is a strong word for what some of these relationships are, ‘maternal’ being an even stronger word, so we will, for the purposes of this essay, say they are the people who watched over these characters as they grew and now hold power over them. Starting with the positive parental relationships, Marie’s character is shown to have a very unique relationship with their parents and family.

Unique in the fact that they are dead, and still holding power over her (in a somewhat positive way). Marie’s character’s grief spurs her to action on multiple occasions, at one point almost causing the end of her life through a power more powerful than grief. This is also down to Marie’s performance as BINX, her grief is interwoven with her character, holding court on her seat with her. Iyengar, several times, uses the care Marie’s character shows to her old family against her; Particularly in Episode 10, when she brandished a weapon for the first time against Najam’s Characters sister. The scene is incredibly impactful, as Iyengar cuts across to use the moment BINX (Marie) removes Andhera’s (Najam’s) shard to show Suntar (Andhera’s sister, Iyengar) losing the little power she had over Najam’s Character. 

Though Suntar is not the only person who held power over Najam’s character, his Mother, the Queen of Air and Darkness (again, Iyengar) is shown to terrify them. In fact, the power The Queen holds over her son is so deeply rooted into his character, it is a part of his design, a shard shoved into his neck that rains on him when he gets upset, or any strong emotion. This allows Iyengar to offer reminders to the cast, even when Najam is portraying the emotions, that there is always someone more powerful than the main six out there, waiting. This impact is made even heavier by the fact Najam plays one of the most powerful characters at the table himself, a Prince of a court that is widely well known and highly regarded. There is a case to be made about how he might play the most powerful character at the table, because while Marie’s Character is the leader of their court, that court is diminished, and Montoya’s character still answers to other people. 

Speaking of Montoya’s character answering to other people, The Chorus are some of the most prominent threats despite never being explicitly stated as villains (like characters such as Prince Apollo (Iyengar) are). They run one of the most powerful courts, The Court of Wonder, and help put together the entire event the story takes place in, The Bloom. The power they have over Montoya’s Character (Delloso de la Rue) is never unnoticed. It is integral to the character, given that they wore a glamour (a magical illusion to make them look like a green-skinned elf) every single day, to hide the fact they really are an owlbear, which are typically considered monsters. The Chorus only really exert their power once in a threatening way, but just because something is not said does not mean it is not felt. For example, Wuvvy (Iyengar) is a member of the Court of Wonder, and although she is Delloso de la Rue’s assistant, she is still a member of the Court of Wonder, which means she also answers directly to The Chorus if she is asked. Though all the examples mentioned so far are subtle in their power, one court likes people to know they have power, perhaps because the people in it are so very tiny. 

Mulligan portrays Captain K.P Hob of The Goblin Court, which holds the most explicit power in the season. Before we have even learnt the name of Mulligan’s character, we learn he is a Captain, which might mean something in another, kinder universe. This ties back into the Goblin Court holding all the power, K.P is a captain of their court, and this is so important to him we don’t learn his first or second name until much later. Iyengar and Mulligan work together to portray the court gaining and losing power rapidly, and using its members with significant ranks to find and hold that power. This is shown when the Viscountess Grabalba marries the Head of the Trickster Court after her previous engagement is called off. It is shown, in a much more solemn light, when K.P Hob is promoted to Major and ordered to marry for the court, which he does. 

There is also power in the way the cast chose to do their romances in this world, which Iyengar facilitates with several events throughout the ten-episode season, such as a Masquerade Ball and a Hedge Maze. There is power in the way Axford’s character has her own, secret family, in the way Wilson’s has a lover in every court, in the way Marie and Najam’s characters find each other, and in the way both Montoya and Mulligan’s leave their old lives behind for love (in Montoya’s case, in an almost direct parallel to Wuvvy). You could write an essay on the romances in A Court of Fey and Flowers, but this is an essay about power, and while love does have power, I would next like to discuss another Dimension 20 season headed by Iyengar and featuring Mulligan that heavily plays on power. 

Dimension 20: Burrows End is Chernobyl (the TV show) meets Chicken Run (but replace the chickens with stoats) meets Peter Rabbit (but they are stoats) meets 1984 (but with stoats). There are a lot of stoats in this season. Almost every character is a stoat, with exception of the two named humans (one of whom is secretly a stoat). Again, this cast includes some frequent flyers, such as Brennan Lee Mulligan (Tula), Isabella Rolland (Lila), Siobhan Thompson (Jayshon), and Erika Ishii (Ava), as well as the transition of Rashawn Nadine Scott (Viola) from Play It By Ear to Dimension 20, and 3 Black Halflings’ Jasper William Cartwright (Thorn Vale). All in all, this cast is best described as a powerhouse. 

Iyengar portrays class and power in this season in a subtler, more intimidating way. It is not so obvious at the beginning, as all the power seems to be in the hands of Cartwright’s Thorn Vale, the leader of an exclusive cult that worships The Blue. There is an argument to be made here that The Blue is the one with the power, despite not being a technical character in the season, it holds its place by being constant, whether that be through Cartwright and Scott’s character’s cult, or whether that is through forcing the beating of Mulligan’s character’s (Tula) heart. In this, the force which holds all the power is not a character at all; It is similar to what holds all the power in our world, which is simply nature. 

When the main six reach a location known as Last Bast, or The Last Bastion of The Light, or Warren Peace Nuclear Power Plant (we’ll continue to refer to it as Last Bast), some of the first characters there that they meet have the least power. They meet the working-class of stoats first, before anyone else, and thus begin to see Last Bast from their perspective. They meet these working class stoats when they are dying, when it is implied they are expendable because they have no power. In reality, they have all the power, being the ones to provide the food for the rest of Last Bast, and being the ones to provide the food, which keeps the area going. In reality, as much as the ruling class don’t think the working class have any power here, they have all the power. 

One of these working class stoats (as a reminder, these are all stoats) is an outspoken adolescent named Sybil, who loses her brother in the first meeting with the main six. Though initially she is portrayed as weak and powerless (literally being dead in her first appearance), we learn that she is resourceful, and if she is not strong in the literal sense, she is strong in the mental sense. She is also used to show the power that the leader, The First Stoats, have over their people, when they kill her in front of the Main Six to prove a point. Her death is explicitly described as being “The price of treason,” (Iyengar). Though Sybil is often argued as just simply being ‘a narrative device’, could the same not be said for all the characters in this story?

Sybil is also used to portray the idea of love conquering all, an overused trope but a trope for a reason. One of the most popular phrases in Last Bast, and a phrase used to guide other stoats towards it is “Follow your instincts towards the light.” Sybil takes this extremely literally, following her brother and breaking rules for her family, such as saying Curtis’s name even after he died (an act forbidden by The First Stoats).

Which brings me nicely onto the next point, the way The First Stoats attempt to hold power over death. The first way this is shown is through the disallowance of names for the dead, for the people who don’t technically exist anymore. This furthur shows their dictatorship and need for power and control; The way they cannot control death so they outlaw the names, taking away the family’s process of mourning and grief. The second way they do this is through Sybil’s aforementioned execution by them. They capture and kill her, showing again how they have the level of power and control that other stoats in Last Bast do not have. 

Candela Obscura; Tide & Bone is not only a masterclass in relationships and trust between players at the table, but a masterclass in power. The cast includes Sam Riegel (Oscar Grimm), Noshir Dalal (Professor Rajan Savrimuthu), Gina Darling (Madam Cordelia Glask), Ashly Burch (Dr Elsie Roberts), and Liam O’Brian (Professor Cosmo Grimm). This cast includes Critical Role old and new friends, all voice acting powerhouses in their own right, and is headed, as all these tables are, by Aabria Iyengar. 

Tide & Bone does not only choose to focus on the power of human emotions, but on the power of nature, and the freakish things we cannot control even when trying our best. To understand the portrayal of power in this game, we first need to understand the characters and their relationships to each other, since one of the long-standing themes across the circle is what power, and how much power, do our emotions have over us?

This theme is most obviously portrayed through Burch’s performance as Dr Elsie Roberts, a young Doctor with Cullet and a panic disorder that materialises as a terrible monster when she gets too stressed (take it literally), and Dalal’s performance as Professor Rajan Savrimuthu, a professor with a hive in his chest. I highlight these two not because they are the only people to portray the theme of emotions holding more power than they are worth, but because they are the most obvious. It is well stated that the professor and the doctor were together (romantically), “For a time.” (Burch). 

The scene that highlights this the most is the opening scene to Episode 3, Candles in The Dark, where it is revealed to the audience that, for an unknown reason, Professor Rajan Savrimuthu spent the whole night outside Dr Elsie Robert’s bedroom door, after him leaving in the previous episode. This scene, or the opening to it, shows how people are easily manipulated by their emotions, especially people such as Professor Savrimuthu and Dr Roberts. 

This theme is further explored later in the scene with the line “(Oscar) is interesting. He has certainly earned your trust.” Said by Dalal as Professor Savrimuthu. Oscar Grimm is one of Dr Robert’s best friends, and the only person to have ever seen her transform into the beast outside of herself (“I would have seen it before, right? So I know.” (Reigel as Oscar Grimm, narrating his internal monologue.)). This is further questioned by Dr Roberts, when she wonders why exactly ‘Raj’ is choosing to bring up this moment now, when they are about to go on the run, saying Elsie’s internal monologue is asking “Is this an inopportune moment of jealousy? What’s going on here?”.

However, romantic emotions are not the only emotions shown to have power over people. When Dr Roberts transforms into The Beast for the first time on-screen in Episode 1, it is not Professor Savrimuthu who comforts her through it, it is (one of) her best (and only) friends, Oscar Grimm. ‘Comforts her through it’ is a generous term to say ‘he is the one who takes the fall, not only for Elsie but for the rest of their circle, as she kills him’. Oscar Grimm cannot die, but he can still be killed, and he is. As he is being killed, though knowing she cannot hear him, he whispers, “It’s ok. I’ll be fine.” and then promptly dies and comes back.

This is another way that Iyengar portray’s power in this story; The power of death, and those who defy it, through Oscar Grimm, Empress Iomene, and Cosmo Grimm. While many other themes are ran rampant throughout their story, the main one is death and mourning, and finding power over those things.

For Oscar, the man who never dies, death is not something to fear. He cannot comprehend or remember what happens when he dies, and though he is often not alone, he dies far more than any one person should. Both him and his son, Cosmo Grimm, have power over death in separate ways. Whilst Oscar does not actively seek death, it seeks him, and he keeps coming back, whereas Cosmo actually seeks death and does not find it. The constant death for the elder member and the constant undeath for the younger one make this duo interesting and give them some of the most power in this circle. 

The last character to explore power in a unique way in this circle is Gina Darling’s Madam Cordelia Glask. She shows us the power of the gods, who took her entire family from her. Darling also, during her portrayal of Glask, holds a necklace like a rosary, showing how she still has faith in the gods that raised her and ripped her family from her. This point also further proves the power that our childhoods hold over us, even when we are in a different location, as Glask is. 

There are then the themes of communal power that are portrayed in the story, most obviously the power of names and titles. In Newfaire, there is a literal divide between the Eaves and the rest of the city, the literal divide being the staircase into the Eaves. This is evidenced in the circle by the fact that only one of them is not titled in any way shape or form; That person also being the eldest in the circle, Oscar Grimm. Whilst all the other characters are titled somehow, with either Professor or Doctor, offering academic achievements, or Madam, offering social achievements. This creates a divide in the circle, which is particularly emphasised when you realise that Oscar works for Madam Glask.

In conclusion, although power has multiple meanings, somehow Iyengar is able to portray all of them across the games she leads. This essay only covers the elements of her games, it mentions nothing of her characters, the ones who destroy themselves for power (Suvi and Laerryn) and the ones who let power destroy them (Karna). Power, as most things are, is a storytelling device that can often be overused. Iyengar does not do that. Iyengar’s take on power is refreshing, and in so many words (3410 to be exact), oddly comforting.

[beedreamscape]

I just like to imagine the point in time when Cosmo and Oscar were the same age and father watches son get older and they slowly lose the old power dynamics and the fights begin to level because he's not a boy anymore, not even a young man — two men seeing eye to eye, fist to fist.

But how can he hate him for enduring? How can he hate him for forgetting? How can he walk away? Sometimes he has to hold him, hurt him, hug him to be sure his father didn't also die that day, mouth forgotten open, wandering spirit, everlasting and immutable.

How do you tear apart from an equal? Father turned brother turned son turned grandson. Lines blur on who protects who, bound to Candela to keep his father safe until he's weak and frail -like a child again- and who else to keep him safe, to care for him but his father? Helping him walk, brushing his hair, buttoning his shirts, telling each other stories before bed because it helps sleep come easier, it helps to keep the nightmares at bay.

A kiss goodnight, wishing/dreading a kiss goodbye.

Cosmo will tell the same stories over and over again like a broken record, an old man's habit, but truly it's because it always makes Oscar's face light up like it's the very first time, he forgets the setup thus he forgets the punchline and the joke is always funny even for the 20th time. It's that smile, it's the son seeking his father's pride.

In Oscar's dreams, they go to sleep together with mouths sewn closed on the same rich dark earth six feet under in four neat rows like in the long-forgotten days of communal sleeping under a travelling tent, the last days of true rest. If he closes his eyes he can still hear the cicadas and hoots of owls, and on the edges of it, he hears the ocean as they drown.

[fantasticalchaos]

Slay the Princess x Ever After High AU

Okay SO— I’ll be quite honest I saw this post thought “hey that kinda reminds me of Slay the Princess— WAIT A SEC”

And here we are! The Elaboration!

Note: the Voices will come in their own post. For now it will be just 3 characters… in a sense: The Narrator, the Princess, and the Player! Contains also my interpretations of the roles. ALSO SPOILERS!!!!!

The Narrator 🪶

As I said in my previous post: Headmaster Milton Grimm would be the Narrator. One reason is that those two give the most gaslighting, gatekeeping and girlbossing characters in their respective series! Not telling everyone the entire story; Keeping them under the wraps and expecting them to follow through with the story/mission. (Milton = Everyone following their prewritten destinies regardless of how horrific and unfair it is. STP Narrator = Follow through with slaying the Princess.)

Second reason is well… spoilerly!

Here’s the rundown for those who don’t know (and mind spoilers)

Originally, the Player/Hero and the Princess were abstract concepts that were once one being. One that is basically the cycle of life and death.

The Princess, who were forced to slay, is the Shifting Mound (aka Shifty for the fans). Shifty is the concept of change, and changes her form to whatever the Player perceives her to be.

Likewise, the Player/Hero is the Long Quiet. The Long Quiet represents stagnation, having everything be alive and remain in its current state. Something that Narrator considers his creation.

The Narrator fears death, which is contained within Shifty. She is not death, but it is contained within her; Death is a natural part of change and life. He also doesn’t like the amount of suffering and chaos that Shifty brings to both him and his world. So, he does everything in his power, and manages to rip apart the two from the cycle… at the cost of his life.

Thus, he trapped the two entities in Construct away from reality, with the Princess as the prisoner (ironically a route you can take with her) and you - the player - the task to finally slay her. In some cases, he’ll even try to take control of you to do complete his dream. Sounds familiar huh? Who else would try to take such drastic measures to ensure it all will work in their favour/plan?

The Princess 👑

The Princess/Shifty… It could be anyone! It’s your choice!

Me personally? My pick would be Raven! Outside of her being my fave, there is a reason why I pick her! Raven’s one of the major characters in the series that challenges destiny!

Both Shifty and Raven wanted to be free! Albeit for different reasons. For Raven, she just wants to be herself and live the way she wants that is not hexpectated from others. Shifty, on the other hand, wants to free herself from the cabin (after being trapped there for so long) and leave.

And while both have their own level of extremities, they will do what they can to reach their goal. (Raven refusing to sign the book, and do little things that are not fit for being the Evil Queen. Shifty… well, let’s say there’s more than how she looks.)

Raven is also a powerful sorcereress in her own right as well! In fact, eventually she gets to overcome the barrier to use her magic for good! Hell, she wasn’t even supposed to use her powers for good; It’s rebelling her role as the Evil Queen! And she only was able to access her magic for good again when she decided to… let’s say sneak up some forbidden books 😉

Also, the Princess is chained to the wall in the cabin when you first encounter her. Who else was chained in a way? Raven, in the reflection at end after taking a peek into her destiny. (Legacy Day)

Scenes that became a core memory for me fr fr number ♾️ (sorry couldn’t help it)

Alternatively, my other pick would be Cerise! Consider it? Cerise is half werewolf, and her parents deviated from the story by falling in love with each other! And they all have to keep it secret lest they get discovered and go poof! And that is dangerous, something that Milton would not approve at all! Again, another individual wayyy stronger than she looks! It’s quite ironic actually… considering her fairytale…

“You’re on a path in the woods. And on that path is a cabin. In that cabin, there is girl in bright red hood. You need to slay her. If you don’t, it will be the end of the world.”

The Player/Hero 🗡️

Again, another one that could be anyone!

For me, it’s Dexter. And, yes I will admit I ship Dexven but I have a legit reason for this lemme cook! Now, we and Dexter himself don’t know his destiny. As in, what his fairytale destiny is; Who and which Prince Charming Dexter is supposed to be. This could work, as the Narrator (Milton) would be giving Dexter his “destiny.”

“Dexter Charming, this is your destiny! Isn’t this what you’ve been wanting to know your entire life once upon a time?”

“Well yeah… but I’m not so sure about—”

“Then I have full faith in you in carrying out your destiny. It is rather important destiny. It is for the greater good for all fairytales”

“But slaying a princess?!? I can’t imagine pulling through that…”

And the conflict with what Dexter knows about being the hero and a Prince Charming???? Yes, he’s supposed to be prince/knight in shining armour and save the day! But slaying a princess to do it??? What??? He’s also taught to save princesses and damsels in distress, not slay them! What will he do?

Additionally, Dexter can also be the Voice of the Hero too! Speaking of which… I will do the Voices in a separate post *rubs hands together with my chef hat* c:

Before we end things here, I will say this:

You don’t have to choose these characters (especially for the Princess and the Player/Hero roles) as there are no wrong choices. No wrong answers. These are my interpretations, and you have your own! This is a love story (au) with any of your EAH ships - and have fun with it! 🤗

[grool-intentions]

TGIF Mike Patton Spam