#For those who are wondering this was referring to another ask in my askbox about using the right tag

[simplynims]

oh you are! sorry for the past ask you were practically the only one in the tag so i thought it was the wrong one,turned out you just, posted alot!

Lmao it's okay! And yeah, I've been posting a lot in the #redactedaudios tag, hopefully I'm not flooding it with my own posts about it. 😅

[lettersfromaphrodite]

[16.40]

― pairing : Chris x fem! reader ��� content warnings : fluff, a little bit of angst, smut (but it's not too explicit), royals au, Chris is a Duke, reader is a Countess, there’s a mysterious bandit pulling those Robin Hood cards guess who could it be, medieval settings as always // main inspiration for this from Elisa di Rivombrosa ― word count : 4.489

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

👑 ROYALS! STRAY KIDS SERIES

Chris // Changbin // Jisung // Hyunjin // Seungmin // Minho // Felix part one | part two // Jeongin

«Promise me you’ll only get married for love.» your mother had told you countless times when you were younger; you loved to recall her words as you peacefully stared into the small lake close to your family’s territories, your eyes losing in the majestic nature in front of you.

Your horse neighed not too far away from you, and you quickly glanced at her, just to see that she was peacefully eating some strands of grass. Shifting on the rock you were seating on, you went back fantasizing.

Sometimes, you wondered if you were really going to keep the promise you made to you mother when she was still alive, but you had to admit there were days where you thought you probably would not. You were a noble, and hardly noble people got married for love; nobles’ marriages were all about money and politic interests.

ugging your knees to your chest – as much as your gown allowed you to, you smiled to yourself as you thought about being lucky to have grown up in such a serene and happy environment; your parents met at a ball, and luckily, they quickly fell in love. Their love lasted all their lifetime, and they always made sure to make both you and your brother grow up with the same values as them. 

«Well, this is definitely an uncommon place to meet, My Lady.» an unfamiliar voice startled you, and your head snapped towards its direction.

Judging by the voice, it must have been a boy probably around your age, but you couldn’t make out said boy’s features, since he wore a mask covering the lower part of his face so that only his eyes could have been visible, if it wasn’t for the hood hiding his remaining features.

He comfortably sat sideways on your horse’s saddle, which surprisingly enough let him do it without any warning neigh; furrowing your eyebrows, you wondered how she could be comfortable when a bandit was sitting on her back with a bent knee and a short blade elegantly dancing between his fingers.

«Who are you?» you asked with a wary tone as you stood up, your blue gown falling once again around your legs until it touched the grass, and your eyes locked on the blade.

«Oh, you never heard about me?» he asked, clearly pretending to be hurt, judging by the tone of your voice. «I definitely must work harder, then.» his mischievous tone worried you, but the stranger must have been noticed your discomfort, because he put his blade away with a polite «Forgive me.» the action confusing you.

You were about to ask him another streak of question, mixed with a «Get the hell down of my horse.» in a way which wouldn’t have been considered worthy of a Countess, when he surprised you once again. His head slightly turned left, holding up a finger to silently tell you to keep quiet, and immediately jumped off your horse.

«Well, My Lady. This had been an wonderful first encounter, but I have to go.» he politely bowed towards you, «I’ll see you soon!» he added, and with that, he ran back in the direction of the woods, his cape helping him blend in with the nature surrounding him. You stood there, dumbfounded, trying to process what just happened, before you noticed a small patrol of officers clearly looking for him.

«Forgive us, Your Grace.» one of them referred to you, his strong foreign accent accompanying his army’s uniform. «Have you perhaps seen a bandit around here?» your eyes widened for a second, and the officer mistaken your expression for fear. He tried to tranquilize you, but he honestly was not making an exceptional good job, since he told you a lot of information about said boy. «The Hawk and his man have been spotted running back towards the woods.»

«Yes- yes, I saw him,» You nodded at the officer, pretending to be still shaken from the story about said terrible and cruel bandit, «he went that way.» you told him, pointing on your left, instead of pointing towards the woods.

They politely thanked you, before storming off on their horses, chasing for the Hawk in the wrong direction. Before they could realize you lied, you quickly got on your horse with a hammering heart, confused at your own actions.

Apparently, ou just saved the town’s most wanted bandit’s life, and you absolutely didn’t know why.

«How early is too early to leave?» you politely asked your brother, which was standing next to you in the Duke’s sumptuous ballroom; your eyes annoyingly studied the crowd, and you quickly noticed that, behind the people dancing in the middle of the room, there was a small group of women focused on something, or rather, someone.

«I see you spotted the Duke’s charming son.» your brother whispered as he followed your gaze.

«Hyunjin,» you giggled, «How am I supposed to see him?» you whispered back, referring to the fact that between all those people, only a mop of wavy blonde hair was visible. You and your brother shared an accomplice giggle, and talked how obviously those women were interested to his title, when you spotted a familiar figure gracefully walking towards you.

«Your beloved Countess is coming this way,» you hastily whispered to your brother, and you smiled at the fact that at the mere sight of her, Hyunjin’s cheeks tainted with a faint shade of red, «don't do anything I wouldnìt do.» «If you put it this way, I believe I have plenty of choices.» Hyunjin joked, taking a few deep breaths to hide his flustered state; the three of you entertained a pleasant small talk for a bit, and eventually, your brother asked her to dance, leaving you alone and finally giving you the opportunity to get some fresh air.

No one was on the balcony beside you, and you were grateful for your time alone, since formal balls have always annoyed you to death; you gracefully placed your gloved hand on the marble balcony, your eyes wandering on the fountain in the middle of the small labyrinth under you, when a strangely familiar voice snapped you out of your daze.

«Well, this is definitely an uncommon place to meet, My Lady.» you turned around at the speed of light, expecting to find the Hawk once again, but you were meet with a young, blonde boy around your age.

«Your Grace.» you politely bowed to him, and he quickly shook his head.

«Please, let’s forget formalities when we’re alone,» he chuckled, your eyes shifting between his warm brown eyes to the dimples cornering his amazing smile with your brows slightly furrowed in confusion. «I see we share a mutual dislike for balls.» he added with a teasing whisper as he walked next to you.

«I’m Chris,» he said, slightly outstretching the palm of his hand towards your frame, as you noticed you were definitely close, and you immediately took it, placing your hand in his as you introduced yourself as well and Chris briefly kissed the knuckles of your gloved hand.

For a moment you thought you were able to feel his plump lips over the layer of satin covering your skin, but you settled for ignoring the thought, and politely smile at him.

“I wouldn’t blame all those women, if they were amazed by his beauty and not only his title.”

The afternoon quickly went by, and only when you saw two butlers lightening up the candles on the balcony, you realized that you and Chris basically spent the afternoon talking on the balcony, as you helped him hide from all those “annoying women,” as he had previously referred to them.

The clear sky had slowly painted itself with dark colours, and the dim lights provided by the flames of the candles were dancing on Chris’ features, making him look even more handsome.

«Christopher?» you both heard an authoritative voice approaching the balcony, and Chris immediately pulled on your waist while murmuring a streak of apologies. 

Chris held you close to his body as you both hid next to the heavy curtain, which separated the balcony from the ballroom, and hidden by darkness, you saw a man walking few steps on the balcony, turning his head left and right. You couldn’t think straight with Chris’s soft breath gently fanning your cheeks, and you were sure there was a raging blush covering all the way from your cheeks to your chest. 

Chris’ gaze was focused on the man while his back was pressed against the marble wall and slowly, his hand reached out to partially drape the curtains over both your frames with a slow movement. Eventually, the man got tired of looking for Chris, and deducing he was not on the balcony either, he got back inside with what seemed an exasperated sigh.

«Thank you,» Chris sighed, leaning his head against the wall «If he found me, my father would had thrown me immediately in those harpies’ group.» he tightened the hold on your waist, and you realized just then that you had been clinging on his strong arms the whole time. 

Chris was attractive, and he was also a kind and gentle boy, but as much as you could appreciate his company and be attracted to him, you wondered what would have happened if someone found you like this, hugging on the balcony behind a curtain.

«Chris, we should-» you mumbled, and you believed you lost any capability to speak as soon as he looked back at you, now both fully aware of your proximity. Beside your brother, you’ve never hugged a man, let alone being alone and close like this, your noses almost touching in such a compromising pose.

«Usually, by now there would be a game of cards going on in the room next to the ballroom.» Chris said, «Care to join?» his wide smile was enough to make you nod immediately. Chris led you through the ballroom, his arm tightly linked with yours as you were accompanied by curious whispers.

«So… The Duke.» Hyunjin said with a smug smile once you both were back on your carriage leading back home.

«So… The Countess.» you remarked with the same tone, before both of you erupted in giggles.

«You’re gonna be the talk, sister,» your brother said with a sigh, «you were the only one he willingly spent time with.» You were glad to the darkness in the carriage for hiding the wide smile on your lips.

Months had passed since you first met Chris, and incredulously enough, you were now a couple. He had been nothing but gentle and caring with you, and his natural gentle behaviour quickly got your brother’s approval.

Surprisingly enough, Chris’ parents were ecstatic about him finally choosing someone, and they quickly fell in love with you. You quickly found out how romantic he was, always gifting you roses, expensive presents or sometimes, writing his feelings in secret letters you’d mysteriously find on your pillow.

No matter how many tender or passionate kisses you and Chris had shared, you’d always be a blushing mess, your heart hammering in your chest and the feeling of burning desire creeping through your body. You and Chris were free to date and to be seen as a couple in the public eyes, and so scenes where Chris had his arms tightly draped around your waist weren’t that uncommon anymore, but you still couldn’t help feeling incredibly flustered about it.

«People are staring,» you’d whisper every single time.

«I can't blame them, they must be pretty envious,» Chris would answer, «after all, the prettiest girl in town is my fiancée.» he’d kiss your forehead affectionately, leaving the warmth and the passion of your more intimate kisses only for the two to know.

Since your parents raised both you and Hyunjin to be polite with your servants, a strange habitude had been going on since you were kids; in fact, you were invited to their smaller and humble balls. You and Hyunjin had always more fun spending your nights with them and actually having sincere fun, instead of spending your time at someone’s ball pretending to have fun while being in the same room of a bunch of overdressed ladies and gentlemen.

However, you kept wondering why your servants were so happy they constantly look like they were on cloud nine since your engagement with Chris had been announced, few weeks later.

«You couldn’t find any better man,» some would say, and you’d smile at them and nodded, but still wondered why they seemed to personally know him, sometimes. Your happiness, unfortunately, wasn’t the only side of the coin you had to consider.

The people’s discontent was worsened by the injustices suffered by the authorities charged with governing your hometown, and this is where the Hawk comes in: him and his men had restlessly targeted the commander of the army entrusted to your city, and repeatedly plundered their headquarters, so as to redistribute supplies equitably among all the villagers.

The Hawk’s mysterious identity became a real enigma, and no one in the village dared to expose him, since he was helping poor people by challenging public authorities. As much as you – and your brother, secretly approved his actions, you could not help but be annoyed at the boy anytime you met him.

The Hawk proved to have the ability to show up at the most inconvenient times, and yet another time this theory had proven itself being the truth as you were quietly swimming in the small lake where you first met, the thin fabric of your white chemise was the only shield your body had in that very moment.

«We must stop meeting like this,» he said, and you totally immersed back in the water, leaving only your head out. The Hawk was there, once again seating on your horse’s saddle, as he waved at you with a gloved hand, «pretty entertaining, I must admit.» You scoffed, swimming towards him and the pile of your clothes laying on the grass.

«You must stop sneaking up on me like a pervert.» you told him, getting out of the water while fully aware that the chemise was clinging on your body at the point where there was almost nothing left to the imagination. The Hawk whistled, and you resisted to the temptation of throwing a small pebble at him.

«Care to turn away?!» you said, and he chuckled at your annoyed tone as he turned around until you were facing his back. You quickly dried yourself and re-dressed, as a rather strange comfortable silence now fell upon the two of you.

No matter how the boy managed to annoy you or rile you up so effortlessly, sometimes you could not help but feel like you already met him somewhere, you still never got to wrap your mind around it.

«I came to congratulate on your engagement.» he said, as you were striding towards his direction. «I bet the Duke’s ecstatic about it.» he added, and you mistook the malicious irony in his tone for sarcasm.

«Is that envy I hear?» you said, holding on the reins of your horse before telling him to get off your horse. «He is ecstatic about it, and I am as well.»

With another amused chuckle, the Hawk gracefully climbed off your horse, looking at your frame getting further and further away as you quickly rode away on top of your horse.

«I’m glad our marriage won’t be annoying, love.» he murmured, looking at your frame with a wide, smitten smile safely hidden under his mask.

What you definitely did not expect, was to be kidnapped by the Hawk’s men a month before your marriage, while you were headed to the village in order to choose the flowers for your bouquet.

Strangely enough, no one dared to hurt you, neither tie you up. In fact, you were sitting in their hideout, arms crossed in front of your chest in annoyance, politely waiting for the Hawk to arrive, as his man stood few steps from you, as if waiting for your outburst of rage.

«Care to tell me what’s happening?» you asked, for the umpteenth time, irritation clear in your voice. Their hideout was neatly hidden in the woods, and you doubt that any authority would have found it unless they perfectly knew the zone or followed one of them; there were few small hideouts built on the trees – which definitely blended in with the surroundings, and you wondered who these people actually were. «Do you live here?» you asked out loud, trying to calm down, already knowing that no one would have answered you anyways.

One of the Hawk’s men quickly appeared on top of his horse, followed by few others, loudly warning everyone that some soldiers had followed them.

From there, everything happened too quickly for your to realize; delicate hands – probably a woman’s, gently but firmly helped you up and guided you towards one of the almost invisible ladders hanging from the small houses, when a pair of strong arms immediately took her place, and helped you climb up.

«Mislead them and make sure you have lost them before coming back!» the man which was basically carrying you up shouted to his men, and you quickly realized that you were indeed climbing your way to the Hawk’s private den with said man following you close behind.

«Don’t you even think about it.» his low and warning tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you wondered how could he be aware about the fact that you were thinking about refusing his help and call for the soldiers.

Differently from all the times you met him, you could feel he was dead serious, and you settled for obeying him; after all, he was a bandit. You curiously watched as him and the other quickly gathered the ladders so that no one had a way to climb up unless they would roll them all the way back to the ground, and you plopped on his small mattress with your arms crossed in front of your chest.

You refused to talk for the next couple of hours, and the Hawk didn’t pay much attention to you, either, too busy spying and observing what was happening just below them.

«Care to tell me what’s going on?!» you asked as soon as the shouting below you had stopped, signalling that the soldiers effectively followed his men away from there.

«Your soon to be father in law approved the army's behaviour.» he explained, leaning against the wooden wall, after putting his bow and arrows back in their place. «If he wants to see you again, he’ll have to take his statement back, so that the town’s not going to be under their control anymore, and of course the soldiers must leave.»

«You’re kidding me, I hope!» Your eyes widened comically wide. He slowly walked in front of you, «The Duke is never going to do that.» you added with an obvious voice, and he simply kneeled in front of you.

«Trust me, he will.» he said, tilting his head to the side. «I know him better than anyone else.»

«And how could you, I wonder? You’re a rebel.» you scoffed, looking at the wall on your right.

He hesitantly took off his leather gloves, tossing them on the mattress next to you, before holding your hands in his; you tried to break free from his hold, but he was indeed too strong for you, and plus, the familiar touch let you speechless for a moment. You spent enough time with Chris so that you could recognize his touch between hundred people, but… The Hawk couldn’t be Chris, right?

With slow movements, he guided your joined hands towards his cape, in order to take it off and expose the higher part of his face.

Blonde, wavy hair and warm brown apologetic eyes met yours, and you froze; he guided your hands on his cheek, lowering the fabric which was covering his face from the nose and below, and your hands started to tremble at the sight of Chris staring back at you.

our head started to spin, trying to process the fact that the most wanted bandit in the city was your soon to be husband, the boy you loved with all your heart; your first instinct was to scream, but somehow you couldn’t find your voice. Chris didn’t move an inch, your hands still joined in mid-air as he waited for you to say something.

«You… Chris, you lied to me.» you mumbled, feeling your heart sink and tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Chris furrowed his brow in a sad expression, before nodding, adverting his gaze.

«Believe it or not, you were safer not knowing anything of this.» he answered, and your heart calmed down a bit. Chris sat next to you, as he explained everything the Hawk and his men were doing, and you couldn’t help but forgive him.

Deep inside, you knew that his intentions were good, and by now, you knew Chris well enough to be certain that he would have never hurt you on purpose. As much as it pained you to find out like this, you had to admit that knowing his identity was risky, especially since by now, there was a bounty on his head.

That afternoon, was the first time you and Chris made love, since no more lies were hidden between the two of you. Chris’ kisses were soft but passionate, and the fact that you were sprawled on his small mattress in his small wooden cabin made it feel even more intimate.

ware of it being your first time, Chris made sure to pepper your body with soft kisses, the movement of his hips slow and sweet; he’d praise you every few seconds, his raspy voice and his body pressed flush against yours while his length was moving inside you making your head spin, resulting in your nails sinking and scratching his back and Chris groaning in response right next to your ear. 

Chris waited for you to build your orgasm just to come with you, moaning next to your ear and mumbling promises that could put the most experienced lover to shame.

«Do you think your men heard us?» you asked, hiding your head in the crook of Chris’ neck as you were now cuddling and sharing much gentler and softer kisses.

«It’s probably a good thing,» Chris chuckled, caressing your spine with gentle fingers as one arm was behind his head. «So they can get used to it quite soon.»

«What?» you said, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him. «What do you mean?»

«They’re all people you know pretty well.» Chris offered you a wide, malicious smile as he reached out to gently boop your nose. «Well, some of them are my servants, but the others are… yours.»

«Please, don’t tell me my lady in waiting is part of this, too.» you said incredulously closing your eyes while connecting all the puzzle pieces which had been laying in front of you for months, and Chris laughed, suddenly pulling you to his body while rolling the two of you around.

«Do you think all my love letters walked on your pillow by themselves?» his grin widened as he saw your narrowed eyes as you pretended to be angry at him.

«I’m really an idiot.» you mumbled with a pout, and Chris made sure to kiss it away every time it appeared on your features.

You’ve been hiding in the bandits’ den for five days, and not only you and Chris had made love for countless times, but you also met almost three quarters of your servants, diligently taking turns between working at your residence and working on their part time job as rebels.

«Now I understand why you were so happy about my marriage.» you mumbled one night during dinner, while you were seated around a small campfire, and some servants started laughing, while others deeply apologized to you. Your lady in waiting was quick to seat next to you, hugging your shoulders as the cloth, which was supposed to hide the lower part of her face, was neatly pooled around his neck.

«He had been anxious about you all the time.» she confessed, her tone low and only for you to hear. «He kept thinking that if you ever found out, your feelings would have changed.» you carefully listened to her as your eyes travelled towards Chris’ frame which was animatedly talking with one of his friends, not too far from where you were.

«Please, remind me that sentence you always say - you know, the one about your husband.» you answered, turning towards her.

«That… Men are idiots?» she asked, her brows furrowed in confusion. You nodded, your eyes once again locked on Chris.

«Yeah, he’s an idiot for thinking something like that.» you sighed, «He’s lucky, he’s cute.» and the both of you erupted into complice giggles.

Chris turned towards your group with a wide, triumphant smile on his face while holding a letter in his hands. «We did it!» he exclaimed, and you were sure that among the woods, their loud cheering could be heard everywhere.

Learning that the Hawk and Chris were the same person all along had been quite a shock, but learning that Hyunjin was aware of it all along was even worse.

«Ah! I knew it!» your brother hugged you close, affectionately kissing your hair after you and Chris – still dressed up as a bandit, had rode back to your house on his horse, his arms securely around your waist as he held the reigns. «I knew you were safe with him!»

«You knew?!» you groaned, your eyes repeatedly shifting from Hyunjin to Chris, and they both gave you an innocent smile; you sighed, settling for ignore both of them in order to finally get a warm bath.

Things quickly returned to normal, needless to say, both you and Chris grew nervous as days went by, your marriage approaching and now, being just a week away.

Chris loved to sleep at your house, even if you weren’t married, yet, and also loved hugging you from behind while both of you were watching the sunset from your small bedroom’s balcony.

«So, I was wondering,» Chris’ malicious tone made you chuckle in anticipation, as you felt his chin resting on your shoulders and his hands around your waist, over your white chemise. «Should I wait for you dressed as the Duke or dressed as the Hawk?» he joked, gently rocking your bodies around as you giggled together. 

Chris affectionately kissed the side of your head as you both waited for another day go by, waiting for the day to be officially proclaimed husband and wife.

all works © lettersfromaphrodite

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

↳ BACK TO NAVIGATION 💫 ↳ BACK TO MASTERLIST 🔮

[poltergeist-coffee]

I can understand you, hence why I am get so happy when you say that my analisies are on point

I'm always scared to do those type of analysis because I think might it really wrong, but we at the end of the day we can't get everything right and we are trying so I guess this is what matters

But I have a lot of respect to those people who do characters analysis that you can clearly see how correct it is

You can blame that anxiety for keeping me from writing things there, I've thinking about the vampire Pac headcanon and I was like, could we make this about pacman duo too? ... At this point I might learn french out of pure spite just to be able to write about him

Also I'm happy you like favela six because then my rambling would probably be boring, but as always, it make some happy to see people of others countries enjoying what they do

And those people who started learning other lenguages because of it? Absolute incredible people, especial if you don't have any previous understanding of the lenguage

Like, I've remembered Duolingo was a thing other day and said "ok, why not?" And put Spanish and french, because again, why not

As native portuguese speaker, Spanish is not that hard, they are really similar

And... french has some similarities I can work it(and with English too wich also help), but those silent s and t's will be the end of me

I will probably catch up with Forever's stream from today later(if I don't forget) so... If you suddenly see a essay long ask on your askbox it was probably because of that

But now I've got things to draw... When I'm done with looking for clothes references

- 🍽️

i love making aus because if the cubitos are out of character then i can just say its because it's an au and not meant to be canon compliant/super accurate KNSAKJVNASJK aus are my scape goat but also they're just very fun to think about for me <33

the qsmp canon + lore moves SOOOO fast it's hard for me to think of like good anaysis of the cubitos so i adore anyone who can do that, i absorb all their knowledge

qpac and qetoiles standing in the same room but not talking: me: how can i make this about pacman duo /hj

I SIMPLY MISS THEM YOUR HONOR!!! I THINK THEY'RE SO NEAT AND DESERVE ANOTHER CHANCE TO FLORISH TT

i have so much respect for the people who are actively learning another language because its so tough TT even thought im not like using dulingo or really learning any of the other langauges i still think its cool that i can recognize some words in the other langauges when i hear them!! i'm like "HEY I RECOGNIZE THAT ONE SINGLE WORD!!" and then the rest is a mystery to me but still AVDNKAJSAMLK

dw plate anon i love your favela six ramblings because i love the brazilians so much. im so fond of them, they're all so interesting characters and i adore the cc! so !!! they're so wonderful :"DD im so glad i got to meet them/was introduced to them through the qsmp

i eagerly await your essay in my inbox o7 im sure it'll be a banger (im also writing a mini recap of forever's stream for my friend so if you don't get a chance to watch i can always share that :3c)

I LOVE DRAWING FULL BODIES BUT I SUCK AT CLOTHES DESIGN TT I WANT TO DRAW COOL VAMPIRE AUS AND OTHER AUS BUT I ALWAYS GET STUCK ON THE CLOTHES TO HAVE THE CUBITOS WEAR TT good luck on your search!!

[translightyagami]

James “translightyagami/avoidfilledwithcelluloid” Death Note Fic Masterlist

Hello to all you guys out there. Here is my full masterlist of allllll the Death Note fanfic I’ve written: There are over 120 fics contained within this entire list. I’m going to split it up by chapter fics, one-shot fics, short fic compilations, and gift fics I’ve done for fandom exchanges. The descriptions will tell you what the pairings are (mostly Lawlight, but there’s other stuff too). There are several posts of mine that are loosely defined fic, but I won’t be adding those in this post as they are just … hard to organize lol.

Fics are marked with E if they have explicit content and T if there are textual references to transgender characters. Chapter fics are marked as either complete or currently incomplete. Okay! Here we go! 

[UPDATED 11/20/2021]

CHAPTER FICS

sit and stay awhile https://archiveofourown.org/works/31032719 complete Light has a fantasy of sitting in L’s lap, and he’s got a plan to make that a reality.

the art of ink and flowers  https://archiveofourown.org/works/35106943 currently incomplete, E, T Light needs an apprentice and thinks he's found the perfect one in young firecracker Mello. Now to deal with Mello's uncle, the strange, mysterious, and - oops! - super hot florist Ryuzaki, who doesn't want his nephew near a tattoo parlor. What could possibly go wrong?

i could write it (better than you ever felt it) https://archiveofourown.org/works/13913043 currently incomplete Light works in the To-Oh university library, where he meets his favorite romantic mystery author, Eraldo Coil, who later reveals himself to be the great detective L. Through the course of their working together to solve a crime, Light finds he might have feelings for L and those feelings might be shared by the detective novelist.

your heart is an empty cup https://archiveofourown.org/works/13027707 currently incomplete Light is the assistant manager of a Starbucks in NYC, and L is one of his most annoying customers. When L accuses Light (correctly) of being Kira, as well as mysteriously asking for his help on a different case, the barista has to decide if he’s ready to get in bed with the enemy – maybe even literally.

the forest holds strange creatures https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442660 complete, E, T Light, a paranormal research grad student, comes to a small town trying to find a mysterious cryptid. He finds L, a 10-foot-tall tree creature, who helps Light discover the greatest cryptid of all: love. The only reason this one is in the chapter fic section is because it includes a Halloween special chapter with the intro of Beyond Birthday into the cryptid AU.

At Your Service https://archiveofourown.org/works/19229524 complete, E, T The Yagami family owns the sprawling, exclusive Hotel Kitsune where all sorts of international espionage agents make their temporary home. That includes the great detective L, whose romantic tension with Light comes to a boiling point when he comes to stay after a long absence.

best practices https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113519 complete, E, T Light has been working his way to the top of the corporate ladder thanks to his own hard work, and his more-than-close relationship with L, the company CEO and founder’s son. Their relationship comes to a head when L challenges Light to open himself up, making him vulnerable to showing the true depth of what he feels for L and his own desire to explore sexual power dynamics.

ONE-SHOT FICS

tell me the truth https://archiveofourown.org/works/12592320 E, T Light and Matsuda hit up a bar after work, and then Light hits up Matsuda for sex, praise, and a distraction from the deep emptiness inside him.

constricting https://archiveofourown.org/works/13721580 E, T Light breaks L’s favorite tea cup in their kitchen, and L eats him out because he loves his husband so much.

tell me I’m good https://archiveofourown.org/works/13986861 E In the middle of the night, L receives a drunk call from Light, hiding in the bathroom at a party. The call, turning from desperate to horny, reveals more about Light than L wanted to know.

if at first you don’t succeed https://archiveofourown.org/works/15119816 E, T Light gave his first blow job and accidentally bit L on the dick. He tries to make up for his mistake by trying again.

let me work on you https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884799 E, T As the result of losing bet to him, Light has to be L’s computer desk – naked and laying over his boyfriend’s lap. Of course, when L gives him another sexy challenge, Light can’t help but rise to the occasion.

alterations https://archiveofourown.org/works/17945957 E, T Light comes to visit his boyfriend Mikami at his fancy law office and suggests they have sex there. When Mikami reacts unfavorably, Light has to do damage control, and it smarts a lot more than he expected.

lizard https://archiveofourown.org/works/18552499 E, T Light meets a beefcake guy at a bar on the anniversary of L’s death, and lets him take him home (Lizard is my death note OC, and the fic was a wonderful commission from @queerical​)

Buried Alive https://archiveofourown.org/works/19705540 L and Light live together in L’s underground bunker after the apocalypse scorches the Earth. They watch some VHS tapes and do some gardening.

Our Little Secret https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822881 E After getting his memories, his freedom, back, Light wants to give L a gift: Kira tied up at his mercy. But L isn’t so sure if that gift is the one he really wants.

The Light of the Moon https://archiveofourown.org/works/25052722 E, T L is a vampire and accidentally bites Light, who is haunted by dreams that make him question why he wants L to bite him again (and maybe … something more …)

little animals https://archiveofourown.org/works/26829778 E Light and his werewolf boyfriend L fuck in their backyard garden.

Change OR the one where L and Light get married https://archiveofourown.org/works/27748159  E, T A gift/commish fic for @ohgodplsdontlook​. Six years after the Kira case closes, L and Light go have a wedding in the mansion where L spent his childhood summers. They bring the Yagami family, their baggage, and vows to share each other’s secrets.

a divine power https://archiveofourown.org/works/28018197 E L has a particular power that has helped him get confessions from even the most hardened, tight-lipped criminals, and he offers to use this power on Light to get an honest answer to the question "Are You Kira?" Not really believing L's power is real (and also smelling an easy way to lie his way out of being caught) Light agrees to submit to this bizarre investigative power - not realizing that L is about to make him a *very* honest man. (TL;DR, L has a Magic Cock That Makes Anyone He Fucks Fall in Love With Him AU.)

Possession https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232294 E After being killed by his family for being Kira, Light makes a deal with the demon L to get back to the mortal realm - a very, very sexy deal.

24-Hour Gym https://archiveofourown.org/works/29415480  After the yellow warehouse goes (mortally) in their favor, Light and Mikami frequent the same 24-hour gym. Eventually, after seeing all his work out skills, Light asks Mikami if he can bench press *Kira*.

Fantasy of a Fantasy https://archiveofourown.org/works/29729685  E, T While monitoring the Yagami family home for suspicious activity, L catches Light getting off to a dirty magazine and projects what he thinks his main suspect's fantasies might be.

the chains that bind us https://archiveofourown.org/works/32051299 E, T  Obligatory post-Yotsuba arc fic where Light is released from the handcuffs, and wants desperately to be back in bondage with L. Features a very creative use of the handcuff chain.

Kept https://archiveofourown.org/works/33334282 E, T Omegaverse AU where Light cooks up a horny evil scheme so that L won’t throw him in jail, and also lets him get that alpha lovin’ he so desires.

so glad you’re home https://archiveofourown.org/works/33977605 E, T L returns from a solo case and he and Light have a purr-fect homecoming together - including some spanking, cat ears, and a shower of sappy affection. 

SHORT FIC COMPLIATIONS

hand in unlovable hand https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025058 E Okay so I’ve been answering Tumblr askbox prompts for over 2 years now, and this? This is ALL of the Lawlight fics. There are over 70 Lawlight fics in this compilation, with all the nsfw fics marked as such. Here are somethings you’ll find in this horde: an AU where L is fat; dirty talk; ghost sex; phone calls about buying a house; early morning tea; kissing; spanking; bondage; L’s hair being brushed; and much, much more. If you have wished for a particular type of Lawlight fic, it is probably in this bunch.

Containing Multitudes https://archiveofourown.org/works/17570645 E Like i said, I’ve been answering all types of Tumblr prompts. These are all the multi-pairing fics that are not Lawlight. In over 20 fics, you’ll find Mikalight, Light/Misa, Misa/Takada, Misa/Rem, Light/Namikawa, Beyond/Light, Light/Matsuda, and even a few ones with Light and my DN OC Lizard. All nsfw fics are marked as such.

hereditary https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159354 All the Tumblr prompt fics I wrote specifically about the Yagami Family. About 4 fics long, includes a really nice couple of Sayu and Light sibling sadness fics.

bottom shelf erotica https://archiveofourown.org/works/20899706 E These are the 5 fics that I wrote to fill Death Note kinkmeme prompts. They are few frills, dirty, sloppy, all bottom Light smut fics. Also, since I didn’t want to give myself away on kinkmeme they’re all cis stuff. (because really who else would have been throwing trans smut up there?)

something between us (anyway) https://archiveofourown.org/works/30304620 T, E a slowly updating collection of 10 tumblr fic requests I received for the pairings of lawlight and (my DN OC) lizard/light, covering prompts including omegaverse, coffee shop AU, sexy lingerie, and much, much more.

kinktober 2021 https://archiveofourown.org/works/34235686 E, T updated each saturday of Oct. 2021, these five fics all revolve around lawlight and specific kinky prompts.

GIFT EXCHANGE FICS

your father’s son https://archiveofourown.org/works/15115568 T A Secret Shinigami 2018 gift for AbbodonAbandon. Light and Soichiro have a talk about why Light quit the tennis team. Lots of trans shit in here.

in your shoes https://archiveofourown.org/works/22405516 E A Sexy Enquirer 2019 gift for @pashmina-dhaage​. L is a professor who is having a quiet relationship with one of his grad students, Light. When he sees Light through his office window stepping in mud, L rushes to give him the shoes off his feet.

wash it out https://archiveofourown.org/works/22405648 A Sexy Enquirer 2019 gift for @complicatedmerary​. Mikami and Light, a pianist and violinist respectively with the same opera company, are carrying on a passionate affair while Light remains married to the opera’s soprano, Misa.

Thank you for Reading, Commenting, and Being Nice to Me About My Silly Fic!

[azazelsconfessional]

((so i was gonna open up my askbox again but I got distracted doing this and watching streams i think idr what i did the past few hours, buuut there's something I need to cover first, especially since there are so many new people around! Hello! Especially since so many of you are playing OCs/MCs.

Don't worry, it's a tip to hopefully help you along! It may get a little long, especially as I try and provide examples. . .but hopefully it'll help.

I'm gonna talk a lot about OCs but this applies to canon characters too a bit. It certainly helps.

Tl;dr, you should have a character profile page.

(also remember that tumblr mobile doesn't really have direct access to Pages made with the Pages function on desktop, so you'll have to link them manually in your pinned or description or host them on another site(I used Google Docs in the apst) or in a regular post(this makes it very easy to lose as a forewarning) for maximum accessibility!)

(rules pages are also really really handy if you have alot of resteictions.)

So, in general, OCs have a bit of a lower reception rate in rp. Idk if that'll be the case here with MCs because they're, well, the main character. Housamo is also a series that lends itself well to OCs pretty well, especially non-human ones, but I figured I'd warn for that.

BUT. That doesn't mean you shouldn't play an OC! It just means there are things you need to keep in mind!

Think of all of the OCs you've seen--you all seem to be fun and wonderful people, and your characters are surely interesting. But. . .if you don't tell anybody about them, nobody will know what's going on or where to start, which makes asking questions a little hard, right? That's easier to work around with MC characters--we've played the game, we know the story, we know the characters, so we can figure out questions fairly easily based on that alone and go from there.

But with other OCs, especially those that don't represent charactera from mythology or fiction like many other characters in housamo do, there's like. Nowhere to start. We may see a face or some dialogue, but otherwise we don't have a frame of reference.

That's where a profile comes in!

Azazel-mun, I don't want to share all of the info about my character at once!

What if I don't know everything about my OC yet and want to figure it out along thw way?

The profile doesn't have to be super detailed! At most it shoule include things like the character's name and age and probably things like their location, profession, grade in school or place of work, etc., and anything you'd notice on the surface like their apperance. It's never a bad thing to include a description of their personality too, or a small section about their history/background. Little things that even you should probably know, too.

You can also section your profile off a bit into things like "surface info," "meta info," "things you could easily figure out about them," etc. That way, no one can spoil themself. Making lists like this can help you think these things through if you haven't already as well.

Let's use Azazel, a character that you probably know already, as an example here. I don't have a profile set

Name: Azazel

Species: Fallen Angel; Capra Therian - an anthropomorphic Goat (?)

Gender(pronouns): Male(he/him)

Age: difficult to calculate; several thousand years old?

Apperance age: hard to say, he's not human. Adult.

Origins: banished from his home world of Eden, has been in the human world for several thousand years

Profession: Priest of dubious denomination, most likely Catholic or Protestant; teacher at Daikanyama Academy; de facto head of the Missionaries Non-Profit charity Organization; supervisor of the Aoyama Missionaries

Role & Rule: Watcher; Revelation - allows him to see anything within the territory of the Aoyama Missionaries and anywhere the pages of his Artifact see

Apperance: Azazel is a 5'10"(180cm) tall, anthropomorphic goat of ambiguous breed, with fawn fur all over his body and lighter fur on his head and around his neck. He has brown, riged horns which curve out and back. Though his eyes are often closed, when opened they're red. He always carried around a leather bound bible with an eye on the cover, and is never seen without several chains on his person, although only the one(s) around his neck can be seen unless he's undressed.

He wears a black priest's cassock with a maroon sash and a capelet of the same color, with the same eye as on his bible on the shoulders of the cape, and brown dress shoes. The front of the robe is always open to expose his bare chest and the chains beneath.

Personality: Azazel is kind and doting, very fitting of both a teacher and priest, although his openly flirtatious, lustful, and secretive nature causes others to distrust him. He doesn't mind this at all. He has a strong adoration for humans, and values love in all of its forms more than anything. He's a bit of a passive person, often being unmotivated but working hard regardless, and seems to prefer to watch others and the world go by, although he won't decline most invitations to take part in it. He is always aware of anything that happens within the extensive territory of the Missionaries, and seems to know and see just about everything about anyone he meets, from their surface to their soul. . . .

If you know Azazel, or take note of some of the wording or question marks, you'll note I didn't explain everything(although I may have shared more than you want to.) This is just a bare bones exampe of how I do my profiles--but it can get even more bare!

I'll do two this time, a more vague version of Azazel's, and another that obscures information all together, using the same or a similar format to the above.

Name: Azazel

Species: anthropomorphic goat

Gender(pronouns): male (he/him)

Age: unquestionably an adult

Origins: Eden

Profession: Priest; teacher; head of a charity NPO; member of the Missionaries

Apperance: Horned goatman of slightly above average human height. Light brown fur, blond fur-hair, red eyes. Wears priest robes and a gold chain around his neck and chest. Carries around a bible with an eye on it?

Personality: Kind of eerie, but friendly and affectionate. A little flirtatious, especially towards humans. Seems to know everything about people for some reason?

Compare it to the one before--see how I've left even more things off or left things ambiguous while still sharing what's necessary or surface level? However, it's also not as engaging or as informative as the other one where I gave more information.

As someone who plays him, profiles like this aren't as helpful for me lol since he knows so much about everyone and everything, having a lot of details helps me play my character!

Now, as helpful as this is, this is also a character you probably know. So how about I do this with an OC? Normally I'm extremely detailed in my profiles and such, especially for OCs, sharing headcanons and ideas for relationships between characters. But, again, I'll try and show how you can show some info while leaving some up to people to ask about to later be filled in.

Name: Kezia

Faceclaim/Art Source: [this is where you would put where you get the art for any icons you use--if you draw it yourself, say so; if you use official art from a series, credit the name of the character and the series; if you use picrews, link the specific picrews. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN PERMITTED TO USE. DO NOT STEAL ART. IF YOU CAN'T FIND THE CREDIT, ASK SOMEONE TO HELP YOU, DO NOT JUST SAY THAT IT ISN'T YOURS. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN GIVEN PERMISSION TO USE OR THAT ISN'T FROM A SERIES OF SOME SORT.]

Species: Human

Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)

Age: mid 20's~early 30's?

Apperance age: older than she looks?

Origins: Tokyo?

Profession: Professor; Witch

Apperance: A fidgety woman who looks older than she is. She looks anxious and confused as often as she looks curious and confident. Wavy light brown hair. Often carries around schoolbooks and is never alone, always with a Rattus Therian and often with a Nyarlathotep.

Personality: seemingly anxious, but curious and exploratative nonetheless. On the awkward side, but can still keep up with the Nyarls that accompany her. Gets into trouble when she gets ahead of herself in exploring and learning about the arcane, but her Rule allows her to disappear easily.

History: Has always been curious about magic and attempted to run through a Gate when they began to open up. Performed a summon and brought a certain transients to Tokyo and recieved her familiar and the magic to use her Rule as a result. Currently teaches at a college. She stumbled into a certain someone while attempting to explore time, and became a fan ever since.

That tells you a fair amount, doesn't it? Even for someone you don't know? It may even raise some questions that you could ask. At the same time, it doesn't tell you that much, and that can be as much of a hindrance for coming up with questions as saying too much can. It's really up to you what's too much and too little. Here's a more detailed version! Some things have been left vague or confusing in such a way that they could be filled in after being revealed through asks and play. That way, people are encouraged to/given ideas of what to ask--and you can still share things in the long run.

Name: Kezia

Faceclaim/Art Source: [N/A]

Species: Human

Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)

Age: mid 20's~early 30's?

Apperance age: somewhere in her 30's, maybe even a little older

Origins: Tokyo, with some sort of connection to at least one other world

Profession: Professor of [?] at [?] Academy; Witch

Role & Rule: [?] & [?]

Artifact, Summon, Familiar?: Always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and some sort of man-rat? She also carries around a book that's labeled as a Grimoire, but it's rare for someone to be both a summon-user and an Artifact-user. . . .

Apperance: A fidgety older woman wearing a labcoat and a witch's hat. She looks quite stressed and has trouble sitting still. Her ashy brown hair is thin and a little wavy, with some strands of gray. Although she often squints, she doesn't wear glasses. She carries around a lot of books relating to maths and sciences and one labeled 'Grimoire' decorated with arcane symbols from Gehenna and Old Ones. She's always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and a very short, bearded man who can best be described as a brown rat therian with a human-like face. Sometimes there's a normal rat on her person or in her pockets.

Personality: Kezia is a fidgety and anxious magic practitioner. She's very curious about other worlds and has been since the Gates appeared in this Tokyo since she was a child, however she has been pursuing magic before then. She often appears somewhat confused about or fascenated by even her usual surroundings, but, at other times moves through the world with confidence even in unfamiliar territory. She also likes rats and other rodents, and as such will often avoid felines and birds of prey. She has a tendency to disappear, seeming to walk through walls despite assuredly being alive.

She's a little bit awkward with people, but somehow keeps up with Nyarlathoteps nonetheless. She's a good teacher, once she figures out how to explain things in ways others can understand easily, but can be a bit difficult to follow and flighty up until then. Aware of this, she's rather patient, if a little down on herself at times. However, she most often simply has her mind elsewhere. Despite this and the company she keeps, she's relatively sane. . .most of the time.

She shares a name with a witch from the world of Old Ones who made a pact with Nyarlathotep, believing him to be the Devil. . .and the ratman always at her side uses the same name as that witch's familiar as well. It's. . .probably just a coincidence. . .who would rightfully make a pact with Nyarlathotep?

History: Kezia is an adult human from this Tokyo before the apperance of the Gates and construction of the Walls. She's explored various witchcraft pursuits since she was a child, with what was originally a mere imaginative curiosity and fascination. After the arrival of the Gates when she was still young, she snuck over the fences built around one and attempted to go inside the massive pillar of light, which she attributes to the reason she often seems to struggle with her vision. Several years later, she performed a successful summon and she recieved her familiar, Brown Jenkin, transformed into a somewhat therian form from one of her pet rats, and was given some powers from Nyarlathotep. She has no discernable control over any of the chaotic creatures, however they seem to spend time around her regardless.

At present she's a professor of a subject that interests her at a certain college. She's had other dangerous run-ins due to her excitement over the arcane and "darker" arts, but doesn't seem to show any signs of stopping. However, after an incident in an attempt to explore time itself, she encountered a certain guardian of time and feels reluctant for once to explore it further. . .although she's become quite a big fan of his.

. . .i ran out of steam amd kinda lost track of where i was going. idk if that helped at all really. But maybe it did! I hope it did. You don't need to use any of those things exactly by any means, but that's the kind of thing you usually see in profile pages. Basics like someone's name and birthday and age and apperance and a little about their personality, maybe some history. Oftentimes things like powers and weapons and the like. Interests, hobbies, ways they could be intereacted with, etc. Just stuff that'd help you know the character.

I write everything in paragraph form, but everyone is more than welcome to use a more script format. I love making profiles, myself--it really helps to think about the character and details about them. Normally I make really, really detailed profiles, but maybe I'll try and be more simple about it this time around. depends on how i'm feeling.

I know this seems weirdly hypocritical given I don't have one but when I first made this blog there were like four of us including myself. I didn't see the need for a rules or profile page because I didn't anticipate that there'd be so many of us or, like, people from other fandoms or who aren't familiar with certain characters. I'll rectify that soon hopefully. But I figured I'd pass along this idea/knowledge to others.

. . .I'm gonna go reopen my askbox now. Feel free to send asks again, ask about this, etc! You can send me an IM too if you want. I'll properly close up the guest event tomorrow. I'm real tired rn lol so idk how much i'll get done, but i usually do things super late at night my time, so i have some time to pull my shit together haha))

[pt-disconnected]

Anonymous Ask Responses #18

Well hello again! Took a bit to get this one- mostly because my brain said "nah you already got that done lmao" and then chose to believe itself. But I eventually realized it and now we have part 18 of this anon ask stuff. Here's more answers(?) to your questions(?).

————————

"Pftt I see Berdly still has a crush on Susie"

So far it's not really a crush- more like he's just growing to respect Susie's actions, especially upon realizing what she did to keep her friend (Lancer) safe. And he probably figured that he'd rather be on the good side of that axe.

Because if she's scary in the Light World, having an axe in the Dark World is gonna make her even more so.

(Also, for context, Berdly is actually a good amount smarter in this 'timeline', as opposed to the canon Deltarune. I won't say to what extent, but he is. Just want to clear that up sooner rather than later- because someone will ask that if I don't.)

————————

"Berdly I’m pretty sure science went out the window a long time ago lol"

I mean, magic and science have pretty clear links- so there's likely some semblance of science even in the most profound situation. In this case, it's because of how the Dark World (and the other layered worlds) are portrayed. There has to be a 'portal' into them, and since portals lead to other locations, they definitely don't care about how much space is in a room, since they don't actually lead into that room.

I suppose a decent way to refer to how the Light and Dark Worlds interact is a form of 'quantum entanglement'- for those who don't know what that means, it basically means if object A and object B are entangled, moving object A also moves object B, and vice versa. It's an interesting thing.

However this question isn't about that. I'll explain this whole 'quantum entanglement' between Light and Dark another time. In short, there is actually some science involved, despite it seeming absolutely ludicrous.

————————

"Omg Susie is so funny never change"

I'm glad my portrayal of Susie is enjoyed! I'll try and keep it from getting excessive, but... well, Susie is just that when it comes to annoyance, honestly. When she gets impatient, you can tell. And it's pretty easy to have her get impatient sometimes.

Especially when Berdly does scientific mumbo jumbo chat. It sounds like Charlie Brown's teacher to her.

"woh wohh woh wohh" "SPEAK ENGLISH DAMMIT"

————————

"Well seems that Ralsei made a good first impression on Toriel"

Sure does! I really wonder how Toriel will react to the other goat bois of the Dark World. Or how all of them plus Asriel react. We got goat boi interactions for days. Weeks, even.

And throw in goat boi plus goat mom interactions and we got months worth of content right there.

But, of course, this isn't "Paper Trail Goat Interactions". So that's gonna be only part of the story.

...Might have to consider it though. Probably not, but if anyone wants to have that, go ahead. XD

————————

"Kris: dab on them haters"

The moment Kris does that...

Susie is gonna make sure that they don't make the mistake of such cringe again.

Maybe not nearly as forceful, but definitely making it clear that she's not gonna take that.

(If it does happen again, then who knows what Susie might say about it.)

————————

And with that, Anon Ask Responses #18 is done! If you want to know more about that 'quantum entanglement' insanity then feel free to either ask in the replies of this post or just in the askbox, I think my minor explanation of object A moves, object B moves should be simple enough to understand but for those who want more detail on why it functions well in Paper Trail: Disconnected or even just Paper Trail as a whole (I cannot confirm if this is true as that is Lynx's comic (not mine), thus I cannot say it is canon- however it does function decently well as a theory), then that's always an option.

Aside from that, the 17th part of PT: Disconnected is in the works, and I'll do my best to get it out sooner rather than later. I really appreciate all the support- even now this is much more than I ever really expected!

On another note, I'm considering making a Discord server or something of the sort, as while Lynx has a server where you can chat about Paper Trail, the Disconnected story isn't Lynx-run and thus is separate entirely. Feel free to tell me if you'd want that, so I know whether or not the idea is decent or not. (Asks will still be limited to the Tumblr Askbox if this does come to be, however!)

Regardless, thank you all for the support, and I'll see you later!

[pitiless-achilles-wept]

Not dead yet!: Marking my 2-year anniversaries

On Sunday I marked my two-year “cancerversary” of my diagnosis and on Tuesday a member of the support group I co-founded (for young women who are stage 4) died. Like me, she had triple-negative breast cancer. Like me, she was diagnosed stage 4 two years ago. Like me, she had exhausted several types of treatment (because triple-negative is a beast) and was looking for the one that would work. She asked me about Saci (Sassy!) and proposed trying it to her doctor less than a week before she died. Nine days before she passed she joined our Sunday cancer yoga group from bed at the hospital to join our meditation exercises. Like me, she remained confident and positive and absolutely refused to give up hope. (Like me, she also wore her hair purple sometimes.)

There were many things that are unlike about us too. She had two teenage children who now don’t have their mother. She was twelve years older than me and had had Hodgkin’s before she had breast cancer--even worse luck than mine, to triumph over one cancer only to get this diagnosis. Unlike me, she wasn’t strong enough for Saci, the only targeted triple-negative line of treatment, because her body had reacted badly to immunotherapy. She was in the hospital for two weeks with somewhat mysterious symptoms all of which added up to her body shutting down. On Saturday she went home with her family in hospice care. 2 days later she was gone.

It’s not usual for things to go so fast. Typically, doctors, patients, and family members all have some advance warning and patients spend a solid amount of time in hospice care. I am sure that people will ask me why it went that way for her. I’m asking myself why too, since it is so shocking and so entirely unfair. The fact that it can happen that way at all is frightening to me as a fellow patient since it’s the scenario of nightmares. That really could someday be me. No one ever wants to think that--and I cannot live my life focused on it either--but it has to be acknowledged as a possibility.

[More below the cut about memories from 2 years ago today and hopes for the future. Also, an invitation to contribute to some writing if you want.]

Today, January 28th, is the 2-year anniversary of my stage 4 diagnosis. In a way, it feels more significant than my initial cancer news. I had four days being horrified, but thinking that I would get through this as a phase in my life. It would be terrible--I’d have a double mastectomy, scorched-earth chemo, radiation, anything to get rid of the cancer--but then it would be done. On the Monday following my first set of CT scans I learned that that was not true. My lungs were full of tumors. (Later, after lots of waiting, MRIs and biopsies, I'd find that my lymph nodes, spine, and liver were affected too. I still have tumors in all those locations, but no new ones.) I wrote a description of getting that news in an email to a friend over the summer, after I had read Anne Boyer’s "The Undying”:

“The worst part about the lung tumors for me was that my dad had gotten a very early flight and I learned the news while he was in the air. My mom told me we could not text or tell him on the phone, that he would need to be with us both. So I drove to Newark straight from the doctor's office. It was in the teens outside and windy as we slogged to the baggage area where we were to meet. I saw my dad in his warmest and ugliest puffy orange down jacket, looking small in it, forlorn and horribly vulnerable. I fell into his arms, thinking at least that airports were such horrible places, so impersonal and banal, that no one would look twice. 'It's in my lungs,' I said into his shoulder so that I would not have to see his face. I was crying into the jacket that somehow smelled of winter cold even though he had been inside for hours. 'Please, Daddy. Fix it, please.' I spoke like a child because, on some very deep level, I think I really did still believe that my father could fix anything. I was embarrassed, though, and so I tried to stem my tears as he put his big hand on the back of my head and said, 'Oh sweetie, we'll get through this. We will.' I knew that really he could do nothing--and that this was his nightmare of powerlessness--and so I sniffed and blinked and I did not let myself cry again until June.”

Two years later this moment seems as if it just happened. The impact of my diagnosis on everyone dear to me, and especially my parents, is one of the worst things about it for me. We all know that there’s only so much “better” I can get, with the current science, and we’re all playing for time while the research moves forward towards something better, something that would make this a treatable chronic condition. I go back and forth, emotionally, on how likely I think that is and how good my position is for the future. Right now, comparing myself to the group member who died, I feel relatively fortunate, even as chemo exhausts me, I lose every scrap of hair that was ever on my body, and I spend half of my days being almost unable to eat from nausea and loss of taste. I feel glad that I was able to get Saci, that my body has so far stood up to the ceaseless trials I have put it through, with four treatments and surgery (and full-time work and living alone etc. etc.). I feel strong, not scared, even as I feel the emotional toll of terrible loneliness from covid isolation, winter, and carrying a sick body through my days alone.

I do not love the “fight” metaphor because so much of having an illness is completely out of your control and I never want to take myself (or anyone else) to task for “losing.” And so instead I will praise my body for enduring. I will praise myself for my enduring also, in both an emotional and physical way. I checked back in on how I was feeling as this anniversary approached last year and was pleased to see how much better I feel about it now, partly as a function of being in a treatment that is (likely) keeping me stable rather than in the midst of choosing another new one. Here is what I wrote back to my group of friends in November 2019, the run up to the one-year mark:

“I’m feeling like I can’t plan and don’t want to celebrate, like I can’t perform “fine” for the people in my life to spare them from the pain I’m causing by not doing better and feeling horrible about it. Perhaps it would help if I let them know that they didn’t need to perform “fine” for me? I understand the desire to protect me from the obligation to take care of them and appreciate it. But sometimes it can feel like I’m the only one experiencing anger or grief or pain, though I know I’m not. Feeling so isolated in my emotional response provides no catharsis for it. Compassion and sympathy function on the notion of “fellow feeling.” If you’re just out here, feeling by yourself, you can’t expect any comfort. As always, I think of the moment in the Iliad when Priam and Achilles cry together over dead Hector. Grief (and you can grieve for many things aside from a death) is something explicitly to be shared.” So I guess I’ve shared it here. I can do that. And I can do another thing, which is to tell you I love you. People don’t really say it enough and reserve it too entirely for romantic contexts. It’s weird--it’s not like we are wartime rationing love! And every time anyone says it to me it helps. It’s an affirmation that I am integral in some way to people’s lives which, in a society that so greatly valorizes marriage/partnership and children, is something I can be in doubt about.”

There are some things I like here, though, and that I would now like to reiterate and invite you, my far-flung friends, to do for my 2-year milestone. Never has the notion of “fellow feeling” in times of grief and depression hit harder or been more important than during covid. In a way, the nation (or even world) was forced into much the same position, emotionally and practically, that my cancer put me in. People are isolated, unable to perform “fine” and wondering if other people feel the same way, or even if any of us can take care of each other at all. I am here to tell you that you can. Maybe not immediately but--sooner than you think--you can. Emotional reserves may be low but reaching out to support someone else can actually replenish them. You do not have to feel alone, or to feel, alone.

And for me, for this milestone and for the cancer-related depression that I certainly do have, I’d like to invite you to help me, so that I can do the same for you. I invite you to write something about how this milestone feels for you (either about me or not), how it relates to all the other insane things going on in the world or with you (not about me at all), how you felt on the original day when I shared my stage 4 diagnosis (definitely about me)--really anything that is on your mind or in your heart.

“Oh great,” you may think, “the English PhD has asked us to do homework!”. But no! It's up to you what you do. Write in whatever form you want, however long, even anonymously. And if you do I will write you back! Not with grades or comments, but with something to connect to what you shared. It is a way to create fellow-feeling; to open up, connect, heal. With me, yes, but also as the group of extraordinary people who have gone with me so far on this hard road. It’s a very different proposition to support someone through time-limited treatment with a good outcome than it is to sign on for whatever comes next. You are all, truly, pretty extraordinary.

Anyone who wants to send a note or reflection can email me or drop a file or post in this Google drive folder. Like I said, feel free to share whatever and do it anonymously if you’d rather. You can also askbox me here (better than DMS) or submit a post to this blog. (I'm taking a chance with open DMs for now...we'll see if that needs to change.)

I am grateful for all of you every day, but especially today.

Love, Bex

p.s. The title of this post refers to the cinematic classic "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," a film my high school self and friends loved. They, along with other wonderful folks. gave me a "cancerversary" cake with "Not dead yet, motherfucker!" on it this Sunday. p.p.s. The average life expectancy for people who get this diagnosis is 18 months to 3 years. Hitting 5 years would be extraordinary. Starting Year 3 is a huge deal and I have every intention of being extraordinary. (Never been average at anything in my life...I either succeed spectacularly or fail epically!)

[icharchivist]

cries think I made my ask too long so like half of it got deleted bc I typed it right into the askbox. anyways. I come bearing a3 thoughts! at first i was gonna watch the spring/summer and autumn/winter ones and then give my thoughts on both but. turns out i had too many thoughts lol? which i shouldve expected but i actually kind of... got bored by the first two chapters of this event! so i skipped and went to the stranger. and then went back. (1/?)

and then i got to like "tsuzuru and kazunari are having a fight?" and jumped on that like a starving wolf bc helllll yeah! i rly adored kazunari in sardine search, i think he was great! hes just so nice and has good vibes. he and taichi are kind of similar i feel? but i think their respective ages contribute to a lot of difference in their characters. why does it feel like this askbox limit personally wants me dead. (2/?)

anyways! i rly enjoyed the improv scene devolving to a real fight. admittedly i was kinda surprised that the content of that improv wasnt rly too similar to their actual fight? like normally a3 has the story of the play run parallel to like the actual real character drama so i thought the improv might function as the play in this event... it was still good tho. the scene i mean. (3/?)

also i rly liked tenma ragging on them afterwards. like he was mean but. first i adore tenma. second he just felt like. a different meddling type to muku lol? like the vibes he gave me were always like... im going to be a considerate leader and watch out for the ppl under me! therefore im gonna make sure theyre doing fine! aggressively. i think tenmas also just like a friendly person who likes to take care of others in general? like im not saying hes omi or anything but just like. (4/?)

that time he offers his car ride to juza so they can go to school together like hes surprisingly open compared to his initial prickliness. also ive got thoughts abt the tenma juza SSR conversation thing i read. one day ill make a tenma and juza fic and complete a trifecta haha... but thats something for another day! back to the actual story. the way tsuzuru dives right in after kazunari! that was so nice. like its easy to see how much they care abt each other. (5/?)

to the point where like even while theyre fighting theyre like angry but still like fairly quiet bc i think theyre both at least trying to be considerate of each other. ah the moment kazunari didnt respond to tsuzuru trying to talk to him i KNEW he was sick tho. felt proud of myself for calling that one but also the reason i knew is bc i have used the "character being sick during an argument causing them both to make up with each other" trope myself before so uh. like recognizes like haha. (6/?)

anyways the cg there was fuckin beautiful like kazunari looks so sad in the middle bit but then u see his shy smile? like hes sick but hes also like. happy to be there. idk. lovely. i adore kazu i think hes just deeply sweet to other people. tsuzuru telling him "you make everyone around you feel as bright and cheery as the things you design” is so wonderful too (7/?)

now im thinking. ah tsuzuru probably feels quite drained after a script and such (i know i am when i finish any piece--its like the emotions just rush out of me) so i like to think that like yknow. kazunari dropping by his room or whatever helps him set himself back to normal! but also when tsuzurus like oh u left ur magazines here! i suddenly remembered. wait shit kazunari and tsuzuru arent even roommates. wonder how much they bother masumi lmaooo. anyways overall very good story! (8/?)

some more thoughts: itaru and citron were so cute in this event! just like. citron saying itaru winking makes his heart skip a beat and itaru quoting citrons wrong sayings (which. i am also guilty of today i told my brother "we'll jump that bridge when we cross it" so) also i love how yuki is like "thank god i wasnt partnered with that hack" but like. yuki. u could literally just not talk about him. like its so funny to me yuki is like wow i hate tenma but he wont shut up abt him haha (9/?)

i also was a lil taken aback at hearing itaru go "for the lulz" tbh... like it fits him. but im mad it fits him? anywaysss thats all i had for this one! im gonna watch autumn/winter and go say my thoughts on that soon. sorry the ask was so broken up, idk what happened!

OLA FRIEND! Glad to see your thoughts again omg :3c

tho omg the fact tumblr deleted it all + the ask limit was all so evil D: poor friend.

I'm putting my answer under a read more because. Well. *waves hand* it got long.

The non-play events can be perhaps a little harder to get into because unlike the plays events that you start with a clear idea of at least the main plot (re: "they are preparing a play, i know the leads so i know who it will focus on"), non-plays events take a little longer to first set up what event they're participating in, how to prepare for it, and then bring up the conflict and which characters are going to have something to do with said conflict. So i can understand that they're a little harder to get into when we know the plays awaits.

On top of that, the first few events still were a bit tame because since it was early when the app released, i think they didn't go too heavy at once in case some people were still stuck on earlier chapters (esp since especially Winter is hard to unlock)

ANYWAY glad that it sucked you in on the second read :3c

So glad you were invested in that conflict!

Totally agreeing with you about Kazunari, and very good point about Taichi as well! they aren't the Puppy Pair for nothing :'D (Yuki took one look at both of them together and just Knew. His suffering knows no end (lovingly)). But yeah i think they have a lot in common, they both are the really bright and friendly figure, both also started in overcompensating a bit because both wanted to be popular in some ways.

But we do have, on one hand, Kazunari who wanted that rather late in his life while Taichi always thrived for that, the fact Kazunari made friends easily and it's just that he was scared of getting to the next level, while Taichi always struggled with this quest for popularity. In a way too both of them were at least scared to share a part of them, Kazunari worrying to show his thoughts, and Taichi being a spy and all of that... which impacts them really differently considering the guilt it puts on Taichi. And then you add their age into the mix, especially the fact Kazu is the oldest of his troupe and Taichi the youngest of his, it makes them fairly similar all while being fairly different.

both are so interesting to me and i love them bothhh, so it's always nice to see them have focus.

admittedly i was kinda surprised that the content of that improv wasnt rly too similar to their actual fight? like normally a3 has the story of the play run parallel to like the actual real character drama so i thought the improv might function as the play in this event

i love how you are seeing the patterns a3 tends to do it's so neat!

It's true the fight isn't really similar to their actual fight, though i do love that they had "swapped" their personality for the act and ended up insulting each other for theirr swapped personality. Like, Kazunari insulted part of himself in Tsuzuru's character and Tsuzuru did the same?? and then the fight escalated and the way Kazunari broke character hurts bc it's really that Tsuzuru hit where it hurts. But yeah it still wasn't too relevent to their actual fight, though i think the thing is that their fight was as such mostly because they tend to clash often due to their personalities rather than just this singular reason why, so to have the play go more "it's their personalities the problem" kinda hurt lol. But yeah still agreed that it didn't reflect much on the plot itself

I was rereading the improv bit to answer correctly and man since we're going to talk about Tenma next, i just. Love that when Kazunari, breaking character, his eyes sad, tells Tsuzuru "you have no rights talking to me like that..." it then cuts on Tenma being upset. Bc like. Exactly like you say, he wants to look out for the people under him. and like. Kazunari is his friend. A friend he also snapped at once and insulted for being who he was, so he probably could have relived a bit of his fight with Kazunari seeing those two fights; Except that now Kazunari is one of his closest friend and he doesn't like that.

Also like. It was also because he could still hide under the plot of the improv but it's so rare, and it never happened before that point, that Kazunari stands for himself in a "the way you treat me is unfair"? Like again re: his fight with Tenma, when Tenma snapped at him, while Tenma was unfair with him, Kazunari took the blame, called himself annoying and all yaknow?

The fact Kazunari is starting to accept that he can take more place for himself is something the whole Summer Troupe have been trying to help him work on, but especially Tenma. Tenma is always there trying to push Kazunari to say what he means, to express his feelings, to stop hiding.

And for once, Kazunari does that in front of everyone... and it's because he's breaking because of his fight with Tsuzuru.

I think Tenma probably felt it was even more of a reason to get involved like, this is the thing he's been working on with Kazunari about, and now he's being all hurt about it, not on Tenma's watch!

And i totally agree with your take on Tenma! (and would LOVE to read the Tenma and Juza fic once you get to it :3c). I think, Tenma is really caring and is trying to take a place as a caretaker and all, but unlike Omi, he has absolutely no reference for it.

Omi is the eldest of multiple brothers and everything indicates his parents have always been lovely to him. Add to it how he ended up leader of a delinquent crew he was clearly looking after, Omi has a history of taking care of people, of nurturing them, and he knows what he's doing. Meanwhile Tenma grew up on TV sets, mostly surrounded by adults and not by people his age, mostly getting advice from being ordered around by directors i think. And his parents are distant, hyperfocused on their job, not really nursing with him. So Tenma meanwhile really didn't have a family emotional support and was in situation where he couldn't befriend other kids his age. His only reference was probably Igawa (his agent) and i think for a long time he didn't exactly see it, and Igawa remained mostly professional so there was probably the idea of it not being sincere? That Tenma had to grow out of.

So like, they're both extremely nurturing and caring, but my point is that Omi has experiences in it and is at ease with it, while Tenma has been so alone and in places were he had no support system that even if he wants to support others, he still struggles with how to do it because he has no set exemple. And that's his development in the main story arc, to learn from how Izumi shows she cares in order to care back at them all.

Like i mean the way Tenma yelled at them about their mistakes at first feel like he would have picked it up from some directors on TV set yaknow? Probably hearing them say that with no consequences on others actors, seeing it worked, didn't think "that's an abuse of power and the actors probably all think badly of their director for that" but "wow that works", tried it on his troupesmates and realized this is... not how that works. And it's spending time watching how Izumi encourages them that have him fix his way to approach it.

So yeah i got lost too into it but like. I feel you on Tenma i love him so much and i love his development so to see him get pissed and involved there? was really nice. even if he was aggressive about it. He's still learning.

ANYWAY back to Tsuzuru and Kazunari, totally agree with what you say next. They still care a lot about each other and yeah they're at a point where this consideration they have for each other make their anger more quiet than trying to attack one another (Banri could NEVER-). so yeah totally agree with you!

DLKFJDLKF i LOVE the reasoning on "recognizing that Kazunari was sick". Your writer's powers making you see through... *coughs* unlike Tsuzuru....

AND YEAH ALL YOU SAY ABOUT THE CG.. YEAH. Kinda crying thinking about it again now LDKJFLKDJF It's just. Everything about it is so soft and tender. The things Tsuzuru tells Kazunari are soo so sweet sobs. They're just adorable i love those kids. and also i feel you for Kazu he's just that great huh?

The whole set up about Kazu dropping by his room is so so cute! I love it! Like probably the very first time Tsuzuru braces himself because "oh no i'm not in the mood to stand mister hyperenergy himself" but Kazunari quickly adjust his energy so that Tsuzuru can just recharge without being overwhelmed. Yes it would drive Masumi completely nuts. Which i think is a plus for Tsuzuru like, hey, if Masumi gets annoyed once in a while it's a win. But yeah also i think that Tsuzuru and Kazunari should really have the Artistic Soldiarity of Students in Art school Probably Working Until Very Late To Complete Their Projects. Would love if at the end Tsuzuru gave it back yaknow?

but yeah their story was really nice i'm so glad you liked it! :D

oh god yeah Itaru and Citron were SO cute in it too, i also love the comments Citron makes about Itaru's winks. Just there flirting in front of everyone like those two embarrassing friends huh. (probably with Muku being all starry eyes considering he greatly admires both Itaru and Citron and, well, Romance.). And yeah i love how Itaru ends up so much into Citron's rhythm (and this idiom you said? is glorious actually, 10 points for you)

DLKFJDLKF what a call out toward Yuki. "yes i hate Tenma,no i won't shut up about him, also if YOU say you hate Tenma i'm going to stab you with my needles, have a nice fucking day.". I love their dynamics so much aha

And yeah Itaru is there cursing us the whole time with the fact he's the greatest nerd ever and it fits him perfectly. It makes me laugh so hard.

Thank you so much for having shared your thoughts there! it's always a blast to read through them and i dearly enjoyed it! (+ it makes me relive the event a little and it makes me soft!)

I'm so glad you enjoyed it! So glad you had so many thoughts about all of this, what a blast.

thank you for sharing, and looking forward the Autumn/Winter reactions :3c

Take care!

[ethrenisnotthehero]

What is Fair Use, and When Does Purpose Matter?

Hey, folks.

I’m sorry for being so aggressive yesterday.

I’ll admit that when I wake up to asks in my inbox telling me to die or go eat shit because of how much of a big mean hypocrite I am, I get really tired of dealing with people in this fandom who have no intention to strike up a good-faith conversation. I want to remind everyone that my askbox is for good-faith questions or support for Jill only. Things meant to start a fight or slander either of us won’t be published, and the senders will be blocked.

I had someone ask, much more nicely, this morning to explain why I think using the avatar is the right thing to do, so I’m going to explain that under the cut. I’m also going to make a second post today to address why I’m still active and what my goals are here.

Fair Use is a United States Copyright law that “promotes freedom of expression by permitting the unlicensed use of copyright-protected works in certain circumstances.” Sometimes, original and copyrighted works can be used when they meet specific criteria, even when it would be otherwise illegal to use such work. You’ve probably heard of Fair Use on YouTube, because it’s often a point of contention between creators who reproduce works and copyright holders who issue claims and strikes against them.

In order for something to be protected under Fair Use, it needs to be scrutinized under four separate categories that courts determine constitute Fair Use in reproduced works:

Purpose and character of the use

Nature of the copyrighted work

Amount and substantiality of the portion used

Effect of the use upon the potential market

Let’s take a look at these categories one by one.

Purpose and Character of the Use

How the copyrighted material is being used is extremely important in determining the fair use of the reproduced work. If the work is being used to generate revenue, it is probably not protected under Fair Use. Usually, the copyrighted material must be being reproduced for non-profit purposes, though that is not the only factor in determination. Some uses generally protected are: journalism, parody, criticism or commentary, and education. Here are some examples of Purpose and Character in action:

A user sees a sketch someone on Twitter shared as a WIP for an upcoming commission. They decide to take that sketch and use it as a base for their own commission. This is not Fair Use.

A user creates an avatar and tells their followers that it cannot be used without their permission. Someone writes a blog story about the artists on Tumblr, and includes a screenshot of their identifying information, including their avatar. This is Fair Use.

Nature of the Copyrighted Work

What the copyrighted work is also matters. Factual works and nonfiction are the most likely materials to be covered under Fair Use, but the only thing exclusively not covered is an unpublished work like a private manuscript. Courts also disapprove of the use of commercially available materials; if it’s for sale, you have to buy it! This is the clause of fair use that gets creators like those at YouTube in a sticky situation, because the only real way to determine is something meets this criteria is to have it determined by a judge.

Amount and Substantiality of the Portion Used

How much of the copyrighted work is used is another point of Fair Use. This is another category that is hard to determine outside of a court, but it’s generally accepted in IP law that using only what you need is likely to be covered under the law. Using an entire picture or photograph is likely not covered, but using a low-resolution image or a thumbnail has been ruled in precedent cases as Fair Use. Using clips of a movie to summarize it is probably Fair Use, as is using some song lyrics or an excerpt from a book. The more transformative a reproduced work is (the more it has been changed) the more likely it is to qualify under this section. Here are some examples of Amount and Substantiality:

An artist decides that they like a piece of art on deviantArt, and downloads the piece to make their own. They reproduce the exact same scene with their own characters, changing the faces and colors of the characters in it. This is not Fair Use.

An artist decides that they like a pose from a photograph they saw on deviantArt. They download the piece, and use it as a reference for a pose in a piece that they are making. The end result is a completely new picture compared to the reference. This is Fair Use.

Effect of the Use Upon the Potential Market

This is one of the easier determinants of Fair Use, and one of the most important ones. This clause of Fair Use comes down to what kind of access was originally available: if you could realistically purchase the work or the rights to the copyrighted work, then it is usually not covered under Fair Use. If using the work will damage the market for that particular work or reroute revenue for that work from the original copyright holder, then it is also probably not Fair Use. Here are some instances of Effect of Use:

A YouTuber makes a channel where they summarize movies for the public. They do not purchase the movies, and they use the main parts of the movie, sped up, to give users the full experience. People who watch their channel do it so that they will not have to purchase the movie themselves, thus depriving the original copyright holders of the revenue for the movie they’ve enjoyed. This is not Fair Use.

A YouTuber makes a channel where they summarize movies for the public. They purchase the movies and use some clips of main events in between commentary on the film. At the end, they leave the viewers wondering what the full movie is like, and they encourage users to go watch the movies for themselves, providing links to the original work. This is Fair Use.

Is the Blog’s Avatar Protected by Fair Use?

The only way to realistically know would be to go before a judge, but I believe so. The avatar in question is used to criticize prominent members of the community and educate users about what Ren did to his survivors [Purpose]. I only used Ethren’s face, because that is what Ren is known for, and transformed it as a thumbnail meant to convey that purpose [Amount]. I could not have purchased Ren’s cover photo, since it was not for sale, and neither could anyone else [Effect]. I believe since it was a publicly published work that was used to identify Ren and his characters, the clause of Nature is also met.

If you don’t agree that my use of the image is protected under Fair Use, or believe it is protected but is morally wrong, I understand your argument and you have every right to believe me a hypocrite. I don’t automatically believe that people who don’t believe I’m using Fair Use or who think I have morally ulterior motives are necessarily supporters of Ren; however, I do think that people who have supported someone who defends art thieves and people who continue to support them themselves have very little weight when discussing what is and what is not protected under copyright.

It’s completely understandable to have your own opinions. I encourage you to do so! IP law is incredibly complicated and it’s important to be educated both as art audiences and as artists. Art theft is wrong. Fair Use is important. Those things are sometimes at odds. What isn’t okay is sending death threats to people you don’t agree with. No one deserves to be harassed, abused, and told to “go die,” period. I’ve always believe that, and while Ren is a gross little narcissist monster, he doesn’t deserve death threats, either.

Be good people.

[aurorawest]

Title: not really sure how to feel about it, something in the way you move Author: @aurorawest​ Rating: T Characters: Stephen Strange, Loki Relationships: Loki & Stephen Strange Word Count: 5,888

Wrote this for the no excuses writing meme, askbox version - @mareebird sent me POV and I (of course) got extremely carried away. Please find below chapter 3 of Sleight of Hand from Stephen Strange’s POV.

How was it possible that he got so much mail? He wasn’t exactly giving this address out—if anything, he’d kind of fallen off the grid. But somehow, they still found him. Exterminators (huh, if only they knew), his alma mater asking for money (not even the med school; what was this, the liberal arts school? Christ), an offer to renew the extended warranty on the car he’d wrecked along the banks of the Hudson (had he even had an extended warranty?).

Stephen Strange flipped through envelope after envelope as he stood in the Sanctum’s foyer. How many trees had died just for him to toss this stuff in the trash?

There was a sound upstairs, distant enough that it wasn’t coming from the second or third floors. That meant it was coming from the attic. Stephen grimaced. Only one possible source, then, since Wong wouldn’t go up there. Hard to blame him, considering who had been living up there for three months.

He stood there for a second, listening as footsteps drew closer, and then he went back to flipping through the mail. Their houseguest would be there in three, two, one…

“Oh good, it’s you,” Loki of Asgard sneered from the stairs. Stephen glanced up at him. “You know, I don’t think your lackey is relaying my complaints to you.”

Feeling a muscle twitch somewhere in the region of his temple, Stephen looked back to the mail. He guessed Loki of Asgard maybe wasn’t appropriate anymore, what with Asgard being vaporized and New Asgard being off limits. “It might be because you keep referring to him as my ‘lackey’—which is apparently one of the nicer things you’ve called him.”

‘Goat’s arse,’ ‘feeble-minded cretin,’ and ‘tedious shepherd of a pile of musty, worthless tomes’ were among the epithets that Wong had relayed to him. “So you two aren’t friends yet,” Stephen had said. Wong had given him a flat look and walked away. There was a certain art to Loki’s venom, Stephen had to admit, but it took a masochistic streak to enjoy being the subject of his bile.

Of course, Wong had also mentioned that Loki had sneeringly referred to him as ‘Beyoncé,’ which had given Stephen pause, and not in a particularly good way. He didn’t like to think of Loki and him being anything alike.

A sneer still on his face, Loki said, “Your hurt feelings aren’t any of my concern.”

“Uh huh. You’ve made that pretty clear.” There was nothing worthwhile in this pile of mail. He tossed it on the table. Loki was obviously spoiling for a fight and Stephen didn’t really want to have it here in the foyer. There was too much furniture in here and some of it was probably valuable.

Instead, he gathered a bundle of the Sanctum’s magic to teleport them to the study and twisted it—

—Only to come up against a solid, hard barrier, like a pane of glass. It felt like someone had punched him in the gut and he tried not to stumble. Loki was staring at him, a blazing look on his face. So. Loki didn’t care for that method of transportation, and he’d come up with a way to stop it. “I was wondering how long it would take you to figure out how to do that,” Stephen said, trying to smile a little.

“Don’t patronize me,” Loki snapped back.

Stephen held up his hands. Christ. Never a quiet moment. Loki looked like he was going to kill someone. Probably worthwhile to calm him down. “Okay,” Stephen said. “Let’s talk. But do you mind if we do it in the study? I need to sit down with a cup of tea; I’m exhausted. Interdimensional squid monsters don’t just defeat themselves.”

When Loki didn’t object to this, Stephen summoned a cup of tea for himself, only half full, because otherwise the cup would shake and he’d spill hot tea all over his fingers. Burn scars on top of the surgery scars; what a look. No wonder he couldn’t get a date. Tea in hand, he asked, “Want one?”

There was a tense moment, and then Loki nodded. Another cup materialized on the table where Stephen had tossed the mail. He was half convinced Loki wouldn’t lower himself to going to get it, but he did, and the two of them went into the study.

While Stephen made his way to a chair, Loki lingered in the doorway, his fingers wrapped tightly around his cup of tea. His expression was the kind of closed-off anger that Stephen had always thought was easy to read and easy to deal with. Angry people were boring.

Loki, though, wasn’t boring.

“Have a seat,” Stephen said, gesturing at the other armchair as he sank down into his favorite one. Loki didn’t. He remained on his feet, looking stiff and out-of-place.

No. Wrong phrase. He didn’t look out-of-place in the Sanctum. He never had. At first it had really bothered Stephen. Now, he just tried not to think about it. There were a lot of implications to Loki looking like he belonged at the Sanctum that were better left untouched.

Maybe the right word was unwelcome. Loki looked like he felt unwelcome.

“Did you have a good day?” Stephen asked, taking a sip of his tea. The question was probably unnecessarily sarcastic. But something was kicking at his chest, agitating him, making him irritable. It wasn’t Loki’s mood. He could handle Loki’s foul mood—hadn’t be been doing it for three months? Granted, he tried to stay out of Loki’s way as much as possible, and the feeling was mutual.

Sometimes he’d catch himself looking up the stairs towards the attic, wondering what Loki was doing up there. What did a god do to keep himself from getting bored? Besides insult Wong? What did Loki do to keep himself from getting bored? The answer seemed obvious: get into mischief. But there’d been a distinct lack of mischief. Stephen didn’t know if he was thankful or worried that he just hadn’t noticed it yet.

Clearly, Loki had picked up on the sarcasm. Not a surprise. Not much got past Loki, especially if he thought you were insulting him—and he seemed to usually think you were insulting him. “Oh, yes,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “An absolute peach of a day.” When Stephen shrugged, anger flashed through Loki’s eyes like knives. His voice tight, he snapped, “I’m sick and tired of being locked up here, wizard. I’m sick and tired of being in that room, wasting time. I’m sick and tired of you telling me that it’s for the good of the universe for me to rot in this house.”

Stephen had been watching Loki’s fingers clench more and more tightly around the cup during this speech, which was the most he’d heard Loki talk since that day he’d arrived outside the Sanctum, falling on the sidewalk, Tesseract in hand. She, Stephen guessed. Loki had been a woman at the time. To this day, Stephen didn’t really know why, but he’d recognized her immediately. No question in his mind that he had been looking at Loki.

He waited for Loki to go on, but he just gulped down his tea, wincing. The cup vanished once the tea was gone.

There was silence. Then, Stephen asked, “Are you done?”

“Did you want to hear more?” Loki asked.

It almost made Stephen smile. But he wasn’t supposed to smile at Loki. Loki was the guy who had attacked New York in 2012. He was a threat. He wasn’t a good guy.

That was oversimplifying everything, and Stephen hated it when people oversimplified things. At Stark’s funeral, Stephen had approached Thor, because…well, he didn’t really know anyone else there, except the Guardians, and he’d pretty much exhausted all the conversational possibilities with them within five minutes. And there was the Parker kid, he guessed, but he could do better than chatting with a high schooler.

Saying he ‘knew’ Thor was kind of overstating it, but at least they’d had more than a two second conversation. But he knew he’d made a mistake right away. Thor had been drunk and definitely hadn’t wanted to talk; after attempting to make conversation for a minute, Stephen had given up and walked away.

He’d almost stepped on Rocket Raccoon, who was on his way to Thor and who had glared at him and muttered something that had definitely begun, “Fucking wizard…” under his breath.

Stephen had bitten back the urge to tell him how many raccoons he’d hit over the years. “What’s with Thor?” he’d asked. The weight, the hair, the beard, the booze, the crushing defeat slung around his shoulders—it wasn’t really a ‘what’s with him’ kind of question, but Stephen was hoping Rocket would give him the short and surly answer.

Rocket had rolled his eyes. “Gee, I dunno, where should I start? Dead mom? Dead dad? Dead sister? Dead brother? Blown up planet?”

Which was when Stephen had known. Loki was dead. Banner’s story about Thanos attacking the Asgardian refugee ship hadn’t included the fates of the Sons of Odin. But this had clinched it. No one had told him what had happened and he wasn’t about to ask Thor or his friend, the woman with the sword who had glared at anyone who had looked sideways at Thor. But Stephen had gotten the feeling that Loki had gone down fighting, that whatever had happened between the guy charging him with a couple of knives and Loki’s death, that him and Thor had made up.

It also made everything he’d seen make a shit ton more sense.

When he’d looked at those fourteen million, six hundred and five futures and found the one where Thanos was defeated, he’d looked further ahead. Of course he’d looked further ahead. How did he know there wasn’t something worse coming right after Thanos? He had to be sure he was choosing the right one. So what had he seen? Death. So much death. His own, over and over and over and over again. His own and everyone else’s. In the end, Natasha Romanoff’s and Tony Stark’s. Steve Rogers’s, too, in a way.

He’d seen Thor, an absolute wreck of a man who needed to find something on his own before he could find the thing he really needed, which was his brother. Yeah, the dead brother. Because Stephen had seen Loki, too. Loki, living at the Sanctum, Loki befriending Jane Foster, Loki and Thor together, Loki—

Well. The point was, he’d seen Loki.

There were actually a lot of reasons he didn’t want to smile at anything Loki said, and to blame it on him being ‘the bad guy’ was disingenuous.

Carefully, Stephen set his cup of tea down on the table next to his chair. Did he want to hear more? That was an open question, and he wished it wasn’t. “I think I get the general idea,” he said. “You know you’re not confined to that room, right? You’re free to go anywhere in the house.”

Not that anyone had ever actually come out and told Loki this, because the fact was, there kind of were places that Stephen and Wong didn’t want him going. Once or twice, Stephen had caught Loki slipping like a shadow through the house, trying not to make eye contact with the Sanctum’s other occupants, but staring longingly into the library. Stephen had almost told him he should go in and read whatever he wanted. But something had stopped him. Maybe that had been wrong.

Loki snorted. “And trip one of your booby traps? I don’t think so.”

Stephen took a fortifying breath. “Don’t get into anything you’re not supposed to, and you won’t.”

Loki’s face twisted. “And how, pray tell, am I supposed to know what I’m allowed to touch and what I’m not?” he snarled.

“You’re a wizard, aren’t you?” Stephen asked, unable to stop himself from throwing Loki’s preferred slight back in his face.

“Master of Magic,” Loki shot back, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Right.” This was going nowhere. Antagonizing each other wasn’t going to solve anything. Loki was stuck here and they both knew it. “Look, we’ve been over this. I’m sorry about keeping you here, but this is the way it has to be.”

Clenching his fists, Loki said, “It has to be this way, does it? I know you can look into the future, so tell me why, exactly, the universe’s fate hinges on me being stuck in this house. It seems just a bit unlikely.”

No argument there. Fourteen million futures unlikely. But Loki didn’t know what. Steepling his fingers in his lap, Stephen said, “If you’re referring to the fact that I used the Time Stone to see if we could beat Thanos, yeah. I looked past that moment to make sure there wasn’t some kind of world-ending, Avengers-level event coming right after it. I saw possibilities.”

They’d had this conversation several times already. That part usually went okay. It was the next part that pissed Loki off. Narrowing his eyes, Stephen went on, “What I saw was that it’s better for the universe for you to be here. I wouldn’t presume to tell you the fate of everything rests on you crashing in the attic room. But I can’t let you leave. There’s too much probability that millions of lives are at stake.”

There was devastation on Loki’s face. Stephen didn’t relish it. He didn’t like causing this man pain. Man? God, he guessed. But he knew Loki didn���t see it that way. He knew Loki thought he got off on being a prick.

Well, maybe he had, at one point in his life. Not so much anymore. At least, not to Loki, who, three months into this unwilling roommate situation, was pretty clearly very damaged, hurting badly, and profoundly lost. And goddammit, Stephen knew that feeling so, so well.

“What do I care for millions of lives when my brother—” Loki paused and seemed to gather himself. “—when my brother needs a kick in the arse, preferably from me?”

Then again, Loki didn’t always make it easy to not be a prick.

And it was better if he pushed Loki away. It didn’t necessarily seem smart to make the God of Mischief hate him, but it ultimately seemed preferable.

“That’s sweet,” Stephen said. “I hope he can feel the love, even if he thinks it’s coming from beyond the grave.”

Anger twisted Loki’s face. “I didn’t ask for this,” he snarled. “I was ready to die. You lot are the ones that messed up the fabric of space and time. The only reason I’m here at all is because someone let a group of rank amateurs loose in something they knew nothing about and couldn’t possibly hope to understand the ramifications of. So if my presence here is such a problem, such a wrench in the continued existence of the universe, blame them. I’d tell you to take it up with your counterpart in the other timeline, but—oh yes, I had to erase it from existence, so I suppose you’ll never know why he was so adamant that I be sent here, to you, in this particular year.”

Another big speech from Loki. Stephen had noticed that when he got upset, when he got agitated, he talked more, his words spilling over each other like rocks tumbling along the riverbed in a swift current. His anger didn’t make him less eloquent. There was something admirable about that. To be honest, there was something mesmerizing about watching Loki get more and more angry. His fury was something to behold—like something wild, like a storm, like something that no one would ever be able to control. There was something kind of beautiful about that.

And, nope. Better for Loki to hate him.

Keeping his face impassive, Stephen asked, “Is there more you’d like to say?” When Loki remained coldly silent, he went on, “You know, I couldn’t keep you here if you really wanted to leave. You stay because you think what I’ve told you is true.”

Harsh laughter tore itself out of Loki. “What can I do but assume it’s true? Do you know what I’ve been through?”

“Only what you’ve told me. I’m sure it hasn’t been easy.”

“Your sympathy means so much.”

Stephen knew he was pushing every button Loki had. It wasn’t that hard. He had an unfair advantage, after all. He’d seen the future. But even if he hadn’t, he still thought it would be easy. There was something about Loki that was easy to understand, when he should have been impossible. And Stephen really, really didn’t want Loki to be easy to understand. Not for him. Definitely not for him.

Meeting Loki’s eyes, Stephen said, “Loki. I’m not keeping you here because I have some sort of vendetta against you.” Loki just glared at him, so Stephen sighed. “Your brother has things to do and he needs to do them without you. You can’t help him right now. That’s what I’ve seen. There are a lot of possible outcomes, but in most of them, you staying out of Thor’s life right now is best for everyone.”

Stephen had known this wasn’t the right thing to say. But he had to admit, even he hadn’t guessed just how wrong it was.

Something…happened. Magic screamed out of Loki, blasting into everything in the room. It slammed into Stephen, a shockwave that passed through his skin and lungs and bones, roaring through him, invading him, and for what felt like forever, he couldn’t breathe.

This was the sort of thing he’d trained for, though. This was what made him a Master of the Mystic Arts. This was what made him Guardian of the New York Sanctum. As glass and wood shattered around him, he called a spell to his hands and cast it, magic flowing from his hands. Everything in the room stopped, suspended in midair, a tableau of frozen destruction. The only two things moving in the room were Loki and Stephen.

Stephen flicked a hand and everything settled back to where it was supposed to be. This was the first time he’d really seen what Loki could do—it was the first time Loki had unleashed his magic. And unleashed was the word. Loki’s chest was heaving. His eyes were bright with rage and his face was open in a way that Stephen had never seen, even if it was only open enough to be twisted with fury and pain.

He was…magnificent. Incandescent. He looked every inch a god.

And Stephen Strange did not want to think so.

So he waited a moment. Steeled himself. And then, he said dryly, “Looks like I hit a sore spot.”

The other thing, that hadn’t been meant to wound. This definitely had been.

Knives appeared in Loki’s hands. “Shut. Up.” His voice was shaking. An attack would be easy to stop, but Stephen didn’t want to have to do that. His shoulders still heaving, Loki said, “I would rather be trapped in your pocket universe, falling into infinite blackness, then have to look at your insufferable face and listen to your smug, sanctimonious, pedantic explanations about why I’m here for one—more—SECOND.”

How hard did he want to push? How much did he want to make Loki hate him? Stephen had to look away from him. Watching Loki, enraged, threatening him, radiating anger, was a little too much like looking at the sun. “That can be arranged,” Stephen said, folding his hands in his lap.

Loki stepped forward, holding his dagger up, leveling it between Stephen’s eyes. “You’ve wanted to since day one. Put your money where your mouth is, sorcerer.”

At this, Stephen looked back up to Loki, meeting his eyes and holding his gaze. He could see Loki thinking about it, those blue eyes of his cracking with anger, with dislike, maybe even with hate. Hell, if their positions were reversed, Stephen would probably be tempted to stick a knife in his own chest to shut himself up.

This was too much. There were good reasons for Stephen to antagonize Loki; good reasons for them not to be friends, or even friendly. But this didn’t sit right. He couldn’t keep doing this.

Loki lowered his arm, sagging, as his fingers loosened around his dagger. Stephen’s eyebrows drew together. What was happening? Why was Loki giving up? That seemed unlike him. In the encounters they’d had, Loki had always snarled a vicious parting shot before stalking away. Nothing seemed to cow him.

That wasn’t right though, was it? Loki was cowed. Thor and Loki were like mirror images of each other. One wore his pain and brokenness on the outside, the other stuffed it down and papered over it with rage. But at the end of the day, it was the exact same pain.

Sounding defeated, Loki said, “Do it, Strange. I promise I’ll only blame you a little bit.”

Christ. Seriously? Did Loki really think Stephen was going to trap him in a void, falling forever, or until Stephen felt like freeing him? Well, to be fair, he guessed he’d done it before. But those had been extenuating circumstances.

Extenuating circumstances. Right. His whole life was a series of extenuating circumstances, now. He had an Asgardian prince living in his house and he hadn’t informed anyone—except people he trusted at Kamar-Taj—that Loki was here at all. Extenuating circumstances: if he was right about what he’d seen in this future, then Loki would never be a threat to Earth again.

Stephen’s list certainly didn’t think so. A few days after Loki’s arrival, his name had disappeared from it. Stephen had thought something might be wrong with it and he’d checked it, a pit of ice forming in his stomach. But of course nothing was wrong with the list. He already knew Loki wasn’t a threat. Every time things played out exactly the way he’d seen them play out with the Time Stone, he felt a little more sick. Most of it was fine; most of it was great, but he’d caught a glimpse—there was a future that he didn’t want, and if he could nudge things just a little off course—well, it would be better for everyone.

Watching the anger flicker out of Loki’s eyes was like watching a storm recede. No pocket dimension for him. Anyway, he’d find his way out of it before long. “Yeah,” Stephen said, “I’m not going to, but your permission’s noted.”

They couldn’t keep going like this. Stephen was pretty arrogant, but even he wasn’t cocky enough to think he could break Loki. But something—stupidity, sentimentality, shortsightedness, all of the above?—made him realize that he didn’t even want Loki thinking he was trying to break him. That wasn’t who he wanted to be, not for himself, and not for Loki, either.

All of the above, definitely. With a really large helping of stupidity. Taking a breath and tilting his head to disguise his own swirling thoughts, he said, “You know…you might have a point. Not about the pocket universe. But about being cooped up. It’s probably bad luck or something to keep a god under house arrest, even here.”

The daggers vanished. “I’m listening,” Loki said warily.

Stephen got to his feet, mainly so Loki wouldn’t be able to see his face. Up until this point, he’d been a mainly passive observer in the events he’d seen. He’d give up the Time Stone to Thanos, but other than that, he’d set nothing in motion. His job was to be part of all of it, not to guide it. But there were certain things that he’d glimpsed, things that he didn’t understand how they could come to pass without him initiating it. The problem was, he didn’t know when any of it was supposed to happen. A year from now? Four months? Next week? Today? There was no way to know. The Time Stone didn’t subtitle dates at the bottom of its visions.

Which left him to use his own judgement. There was a time when just about the only person’s judgement he’d trusted was his own. The bizarre vicissitudes of his life had taught him better. Humility made him hesitate. How did he know this was the right time? If he set things in motion now, he couldn’t stop them. What if he acted and it wasn’t time? What if he had it all wrong?

He cast spell after spell to clean up the room, feeling Loki’s presence at his back. As the last lampshade fit itself back into place, a realization hit him like a train. Humility? He thought he’d learned humility? He was still the same arrogant son of a bitch he’d always been. This wasn’t about him. It had never been about him.

He recognized the pain Loki was in. This was about Loki.

There was no way for him to know the right time to set events in motion. But it didn’t matter. Loki needed this now, whether it was the right time or not.

Stephen hesitated for another second. Once he spoke, he couldn’t take it back. He couldn’t undo it.

He turned around to face Loki, who looked like a caged animal, desperate to run but with nowhere to go, his rage barely subsided, simmering just under the surface. And Stephen spoke. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this. I’m breaking every patient confidentiality law on the books.”

Surprise flickered across Loki’s face, though he immediately wiped it away. “Then please don’t feel compelled to.”

Stephen ignored him. “I was at the hospital today—”

“Why?” Loki interrupted. With a pointed look at Stephen’s hands, clearly meant to be cruel, he added, “Don’t tell me they’re letting you cut people open?”

He deserved that. But it still rankled. He thought he actually preferred the knives. “I thought you said you were listening,” Stephen said. Loki backed down, holding up his hands. The expression on his face had returned to wariness. “I was visiting a friend,” Stephen went on. “While I was there, I walked by a room that listed the occupant as Jane Foster.”

This was…not exactly a lie. Stephen had been by Metro-General recently—not today, but within the week—and he had seen Christine while he was there, but he’d gone for the express purpose of seeing if Jane Foster had taken up residence there. The little ball of ice in his stomach had grown a bit more when he’d seen her name on the door.

Loki started at the name and immediately scowled.

“Someone you know?” Stephen asked, knowing the answer perfectly well.

“An acquaintance,” Loki replied, raising one eyebrow.

This shouldn’t have charmed Stephen, but against his will, it did. Something in the arch of that eyebrow, the glint in Loki’s eyes, which wasn’t quite mischief but was sharp and pointed and keen as those daggers he carried around on his arms. God knew Loki had never tried to be charming in his time at the Sanctum. Somehow, that made the flashes of his natural charm way more genuine and likable.

“Uh huh,” Stephen said. “Friend of Thor’s, right?” Loki shrugged and Stephen grew serious. “I looked at her records. Another broken rule, by the way. Same Jane Foster. She’s dying.”

“Of course she’s dying,” Loki said, shrugging again. “You humans are in a perpetual state of mortality. It’s just what you do.”

Less charming. Stephen felt his lips thin. “She’s terminally ill. She has weeks. Maybe a couple months, if she gets really lucky.”

This seemed to hit some kind of nerve. Or maybe Loki just realized he was being an asshole. Finally, he said, “I see. And?”

“And nothing.” There was still a shattered vase in the corner. Stephen magically repaired it and it settled back into place on the table that held it. He tried not to take a deep breath and make it obvious how much he was bullshitting his way through this conversation. This was it. “Unless you want to go see her,” he said.

If this had been a movie, the music would have swelled and then abruptly dropped away at this point. The audience had to be clued in that this was a Big Moment. But of course, only Stephen knew that. Loki had no idea. His eyes narrowed and he asked, “Why would I want to go see her? I barely know the woman. My brother was the one who couldn’t stop mooning over her.” Something seemed to occur to him and he quickly added, “He dumped her, by the way.”

To be totally honest, Stephen didn’t care about the love lives of the Asgardian royal family, or lack thereof. But there was something kind of sweet about Loki insisting on this point, which told Stephen that it absolutely wasn’t true, and Jane had definitely dumped Thor’s ass.

“I was under the impression you wanted to do something nice for your brother,” Stephen said.

Loki made a series of spluttering noises, then finally managed, “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“You don’t say,” Stephen said, his tone deadpan. When Loki glared at him, he added, “Why don’t you think about it?”

“Why don’t you let me go tell my brother that I’m not dead?”

Point to Loki. Probably. Stephen had kind of lost track. He’d felt like this was a game he was going to lose from the moment Loki had appeared on the sidewalk outside, anyway. He sighed, less at Loki; more at the situation. “Do you really want to do this again today? I just got done cleaning up.” This drew an unwilling snort of laughter from Loki, and Stephen felt a tendril of an emotion that he wasn’t willing to name unfurl ever-so-slightly within him.

“By the way,” Stephen said, to distract both of them from the fact that he had just made Loki laugh, “Thor isn’t even on Earth right now.”

Picking at the armor on his hands, Loki said, “I know.”

Stephen felt his brow furrow in surprise. Loki looked at him, taking this in. “You do?” Stephen asked.

“I heard you and Wong talking about it.” Loki looked almost guilty. He cleared his throat and said, “Something about some people calling themselves the Guardians.”

Huh. Well. What else had Loki heard?

“You have good hearing,” Stephen finally said.

With a faint smile, Loki replied, “I’m very good at overhearing things that people don’t want me to.”

Good to know. Stephen wished he’d known it three months ago. He’d have to comb through his memories to figure out if Wong and he had talked about anything sensitive within Loki’s impressive earshot.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Stephen said.

Exiting a conversation at the right time was a skill Stephen had always prided himself on, and he knew this one had run its course. Something momentous had happened here, though Loki didn’t know the half of it. Stephen didn’t know if he felt like a puppet master or a puppet himself, a marionette whose strings were being jerked around by the universe the same as everyone else’s. He just happened to know about it.

Loki seemed like the kind of guy who you could have really in-depth philosophical discussions with. Get him started on a conversation about free will, and Stephen had a feeling he’d be fascinating. Stephen had heard him invoke the Norns, and as soon as that particular argument had ended, he’d pulled out his phone to google the word.

The Fates. Urðr, Verðandi, and Skuld, the most important of them. They wove mortals’ fates, pulled at the threads, followed them, tangled them, untangled them. Stephen had no idea what Loki thought about free will, but he had a feeling it was complicated.

Another thing Stephen was good at? Leaving a difficult conversation on top. He held out a hand and Loki stared at it. His open confusion was kind of satisfying. “Oh, sorry,” Stephen said. “The cup you vanished. I’ll take that back. They’re antique. I’m trying to keep the set together.”

Total bullshit. They were from the thrift store a few blocks over, and before that, probably Kmart, and there were already several pieces missing.

But Loki didn’t know any better. Stephen didn’t even know why he was messing with him. Maybe just to see if he could. There was, after all, the aforementioned feeling that he’d lost this game before it had even started. Anything to get the upper hand, no matter how temporary it was.

Smirking, Loki twitched his fingers, and the cup appeared out of thin air, dropping into Stephen’s palm. Without another word, Loki turned to leave. But then, in the doorway, he stopped and turned around. “How do I get to this hospital?” he asked. “In case I do decide to go see Miss Foster.”

Check. Did the Norns play chess? Whatever. Stephen wasn’t sure he believed in them.

Then again, he hadn’t believed in magic either, had he?

With a small smile, Stephen said, “We’ll get you a Metro Card.” He couldn’t read Loki’s face. Probably he didn’t know what a Metro Card was. Lucky guy. In all seriousness, though, Loki was, what, a thousand something years old? But he didn’t know much about Earth. Given an opportunity, he’d probably learn everything he could about it. And that reminded him. The library. Giving Loki free rein in there was something he should have done a long time ago. Wong would hate it, but…Stephen would pick up his tuna melts for a month or two and he’d get over it. “And Loki? I think you’ll find that the library has a number of books that might interest you.”

There was an impossibly long silence while Loki stared at him. Would he accept this? As peace offerings went, it was pretty paltry. Peace offering? Stephen kept his face still, but inside, he snorted at himself. He guessed so. For the past three months, he’d either outright ignored or tried to alienate Loki. Something momentous had happened here without him knowing, too. This relationship had changed. Stephen had Seen Things, but he didn’t have a roadmap. He didn’t know where this was going. He didn’t know what to expect.

The knot of ice was still in his stomach, but it seemed to thaw a little. Maybe he wasn’t entirely a toy of the Norns.

Finally, Loki inclined his head, a graceful, courtly gesture that reminded Stephen forcibly and viscerally that this was a prince. It wasn’t something that he cared about, per se. He was a person first and foremost. And last, when it came down to it. But somewhere in the middle, he was a prince, a god, a onetime villain. And he was also a brother, a son, and—

Definitely not a friend. Not to Stephen, at least.

“Thank you,” Loki said. Stephen nodded to him, and Loki turned and walked away, his footsteps quiet on the wood floor.

No, not a friend. But maybe, just maybe, not an enemy, either.

[azaffranist]

Could the return of Elsa's soul in a fully human form have been feasable, too?

Okay anon I’m so sorry I think this ask has been sitting in my askbox for more than a month. I suck. But better late than never I guess! I’m gonna be active on Tumblr again from now on, so asks should take me 1 week tops.

Elsa’s revival was always an interesting topic. According to sources and some interviews in which the creators admitted it themselves, there were 12 endings (or at the very least, 12 versions of the ending) planned for F2, along with more than 50 rewrites of the story. I’m not making this up, you can read this here. So it’s only logical to think that at the very least one of these versions included both Elsa dying and coming back to life.

According to the Patreon leaks and other sources, yes, there were at the very least 3 endings shown in those infamous test screenings: Elsa and Olaf dying and not coming back with no hints whatsoever they would, Elsa and Olaf dying but coming back at the last minute, and Elsa and Olaf dying but their return being hinted.

Now that the movie has been out for a good while, I’m wondering if that version “Elsa and Olaf dying and coming back at the last minute” is the one that actually made it to the movie (with some changes, of course). But, answering your question: yes, it would’ve been feasible. Now, it’s difficult to tell how: we’ve already talked about how the Unity Snowflake most likely represented dead Elsa in these earlier versions, but the how’s of the situations are very vague. One of our most reliable sources has said that it most likely meant these ‘hints’ the Patreon leaks referred most likely to their return in a third movie, and by return, we mean, as you say, fully human form (because I don’t think a F3 with a snowflake as Elsa would’ve been very fun).

How it would happen in these two versions? We have no idea. Maybe their concept of F3 was getting Elsa and Olaf back ala Endgame, and setting it up in F2 to get audiences hyped because who doesn’t like Elsa??, but this is just speculation from me since I don’t really work at Disney nor have heard of any more spicy info, sorry.

I’m very interested on what would’ve happened to the fandom and the merch sales if “Elsa’s comeback being hinted” had been the ending they went with. These movies, at the end of the day, are made with merch sales in mind. The box office of the movies is insignificant compared to the big bucks they make with plushies, dolls and literally every product imaginable with the characters’ faces printed on it. In very early concepts of the movie, there weren’t 4 spirits, it was most likely just Gale. But Gale is air, and really, have you seen Gale only merch? I actually have, and it’s depressing; if Gale is anywhere, it’s most likely in the form of some leaves flying around next to a character, because who would buy a bunch of leaves to have as a figure.

Gale doesn’t have a form, she’s literally just wind that makes some cute sounds from time to time. Gale is not a character you’d even consider having in your Frozen collection. I’m sure lots of kinds didn’t even recognize her as a character. So what happens then? Gale isn’t a character you can profit off, soooo say hello to the new spirits, and the 4 spirit route they went in. Most notable examples are the Nokk and Bruni (the most profitable characters aside from Elsa! what a surprise). Nokk is a badass water horse. And Bruni is a cute salamander with no plot relevance aside from starting a fire once. See how it goes? These characters were designed not with the plot as a priority, but with toy sales as a priority.

And we’re back to our initial topic: if we take all of this into account, Elsa coming back would’ve been the most likely thing. The writers were left alone for a while and they came up with all this dark stuff of queens dying and kids being separated from their moms, languages being prohibited because of xenophobia, castles being destroyed in the name of justice, snowmen fearing death and dissipating into snowflakes, TNRT potentially being even darker than the final version (!):

And so many things we will never know about. And Disney probably came into the room and said “Whoa calm down edgelords, let’s fix this,” less than a year before release. So; Elsa comes back to life, no castle is destroyed in the name of justice, there’s no mention about the rampant xenophobia towards the Northuldra apart from Grandpa Runeard’s little monologue, Olaf is ok with dying, and the whole scene and CONCEPT of how Iduna was left alone, separated from her family, in pretty much another world, was just ignored. Oh, and now there’s a cute salamander, too.

So, IF they had let them Elsa die, legit die, she would’ve most likely returned to her fully human form just for the fact that she’s the moneymaker. How do you sell Elsa merch if Elsa turned into a snowflake forever or something? Little girls want the pretty dresses. In this version of the ending, I doubt the F2 merch sales would’ve been nearly as successful as they were, and while some could’ve enjoyed the tension of Elsa being dead but knowing she’d be back, I’m sure it wouldn’t have sit well with a lot of people. And it’s obvious to assume this was the reason Disney would never allow Elsa to die, either, and the fact that they went so far with this idea is... mindblowing. Kids don’t want dolls of dead queens.

I’m still amazed they made it that far into development going with these dark concepts. Not just Elsa’s death, but everything else listed above. And in my humble opinion, this is painfully evident in the final movie. Some things don’t make sense or require theories and headcanons and hypotheses and uses of the scientific method to maybe make a bit more sense; while all of this is fun and I love to read them, I don’t think the movie is exceptionally good written when you need sagas and sagas and headcanons to explain something as vital as one of the protagonist’s role at the end of the movie. (Still have no clue what a fifth spirit is, sorry)

F1 doesn’t have these problems. F2 does. Why? Because so many changes were made last minute, with no time left to flesh things out.

Went on a rant again. Oh well. Sorry again about the ridiculous wait, life has been kinda busy, but I’ll be more active from now on.

[deitiesofduat]

DEITIES Update 10/29/18

(Okay wow it's been so long since I've used this banner, I nearly forgot I even had it sdjfksk)

Anyway hey everyone! I think we're due for another brief update, mostly regarding what I'll be up to as this long af year draws to a close. Details are under the cut, but the gist involves an askbox hiatus following this week, to give myself some time for some overdue housekeeping, and maybe some new art and content.

DEITIES ASKBOX & CC HIATUS (Don't worry it's temporary!!)

Might as well put that upfront, but yes rest assured this hiatus is meant to be a temporary one! Those of you who have been following the blog since the beginning may already be aware of my occasional calls to close the askbox, especially after askbox themes and when the volume becomes a bit high.

In this case, it's partially due to the increasing volume of asks I receive; partially due to some new (exciting???) things that are demanding my attention offline; but mostly to just take a break. You all have been asking some very good questions lately, and I appreciate the thought you put in them! But writing thorough answers takes time, and I need to reclaim a bit more of mine in the evening to work thru some projects and online housekeeping thru the end of this year. Rather than rush thru writing my answers for incoming questions, I think a solid break will be more ideal.

For those of you who have some last questions to ask me, I'll keep the ask box open until the end of Thursday, November 1, 11:59pm EDT (Note, this doesn't grant permission to spam the askbox, especially if you'd asked multiple questions already, so be mindful of that please!) After that deadline, I'll close the askbox on tumblr and answer the remainder in my inbox by this weekend, before officially going on break. This way no new questions will sit in the inbox, and I can try to avoid leaving people from wondering whether or not I'll answer them (for the record, I answer about 90% of questions I receive, the 10% that I don't can be explained in the FAQs -- including the very end regarding reasons you may not get an answer).

I'll also try to revisit the DEITIES CuriousCat briefly to see if any pressing questions are there, but any non-dire questions in my inbox will have to wait until I'm off hiatus (another note, I can't pause or close my askbox on CC, so you could technically still submit questions there, just know that I will not log in to check my inbox during this break).

As for how long this break will last? No idea yet; at least thru the end of November, but possible longer depending on how things progress with certain events in the works or if I otherwise feel like extending it. Until then, I ask for your patience until I'm ready to step back into the AMA saddle, so to speak. And fee free to review the FAQs and past questions around the blog to see if any question you might have have been addressed.

TUMBLR & WEBSITE HOUSEKEEPING

On that note, just because I'm taking a break from the project askbox won't mean I'll leave this blog neglected, far from it. At the very least I'm hoping to use part of this break to update a few pages on the project tumblr -- including the FAQs, some of my tagged content, and recording some of my askbox and CC responses as a reference/backup, which I haven’t done in months o)-----< It'll all be done in the background tho, but it should hopefully help visitors find more of the updated/recent info regarding this blog and the project.

If possible, I will also be working to finally migrate the placeholder site for DEITIES -- http://deitiesofduat.com -- to work with WordPress, which is one of the software I've been learning to use from my online classes. I eventually need to use WordPress to construct the full site for the comic, and migrating my placeholder on the system should at least help get the technical set up out of the way. Self-hosting is such a chore you guys. I can do it cuz I like working with WordPress but it's still, a chore. 

Either way, that URL may not function for a bit whenever I sit down to migrate it, but it should only be temporary until I get it to work properly.

CONTENT UPDATES WHEN...?

YEAH ABOUT THAT... cuz I'm fully aware that the blog has had less art and other content over the past few months. All I can say rn is that until I address some huge priorities in my offline life, content for DEITIES will remain irregular. That's the reality, unfortunately, but I'm still determined to see this project through, and I'm optimistic about some recent development that should hopefully help me re-establish my pace. You'll all know when I'm ready to share the news.

That said, I will still try to work on some bits of DEITIES artwork during the remainder of the year, once I have the time and drive for it. I'm also quietly working on updates to playlists on the DEITIES Spotify account (not many atm cuz I'm still evaluating some tracks in like, placeholder lists atm haha--).

There are also a few other fun things I'm playing with as well, that I can hopefully realize and share with everyone soon. I'll making any other necessary updates as they come, but until then take care everyone, and enjoy your Halloween!

[littleredroseonthevalley]

Red Rose - Chapter 12

Prologue Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch. 10 Ch. 11 CH. 12 Ch. 13  Ch. 14 Ch. 15  Ch. 16

Summary: The Court arrives at Applewood, the Royals’ summer retreat, for Presentation holiday. With the King to retire, the gambles at princely love game are raised and Madeleine show her fangs. Five years earlier, Charlotte comes to Cordonia for the first time, and faces some unwanted attentions.

Rating: M -  Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language.

Notes: How do you do, esteemed readers? Are you ready for some drama? Great! Now, before anything else, I’d like to reiterate my invitation for your contribution to Red Rose Soundtrack, my askbox is still open! Not that it will ever be closed, but it is open.

I am also tagging @boneandfur, as so requested. I am considering opening a taglist next chapter, so if you’re interested, just leave a shout somewhere and I’ll add you. Bonus points if you say “KBBL is going to give me something stupid!”.

Without further ado, enjoy!

Le Berceuse, Avlona, Cordonia, Fall 2015

“I did not suppose I’d be meeting you here.” A woman’s voice came from behind, sending chills through his spine.

“Neither I, you.” He answered, keeping his cool. “What are you doing here, Charlotte?”

“The same as you, I suppose, Bertrand.” She said, sitting next to him. “Trying to exorcize some phantoms of my past.”

He laughed melancholically. “The doorstep of an abandoned house seems as good as a place as any other.”

“We both spent good days in here, you must admit.” She sighed. “I’m sorry for your father. And for your money problems.”

He gaped. “How on Earth did you know we were broke?”

She laughed. “We’re the Rosenbergs, we know everything.”

“I suppose that is why my father used to say whenever those blasted Austrians set foot in Cordonia, disaster strikes.” He grimaced. “Thank you for your sympathy, though. I really appreciate it.”

“A shame he felt so strongly against me, though. I was rather fond of Old Man Bart.” They laughed of the absurdity. “We used to be good friends, didn’t we?”

“I remember I enjoyed your company the best.” He recalled, with a fond smile on his face. “In fact, most people did.”

She snorted. “I don’t really know why, I’m a dubious snake. Though, I really liked you, too.”

“We’re all pretending out here.” Bertrand said, his mind going a mile a minute. Suddenly, he returns into himself, yet somewhat humorously. “My father told me once I should have married you. Can you imagine us, married?”

“Hey!” She shoved him, playfully. “I have you know I am a great wife! Not that you ever noticed, all your affection is dedicated to Little Miss Cinderella.”

Bertrand looked pointedly at Charlotte. “It’s Savannah.”

She laughed. “Are you past the point of denying it?”

“Would you believe me?”

“Of course, I would not.”

“Then what is the point?” He grumbled. “What is even your problem with her?”

“With Savannah? None.” She said, offhandedly.

“I gather you have a bone to pick with her brother, then.” He waited for his sentence to drop, and then continued. “About that girl who used to hang around you.”

“Yes, Linda Rosa.” She said, with fire on her eyes. “Drake has done an unspeakable crime against her, one that I don’t find in myself to forgive.”

“Where is she?” Bertrand asked, grave.

“To whomever asks me that, I say I do not know.” She shrugged.

“But you’re going to tell me the truth?”

“No.” Charlotte answered simply. “But I’m going to tell you that she hangs closer than any of us may think.”

“Does she desire retribution?” The weary man asks.

“I don’t think so. At least not that she knows of.” The blonde woman answered, confusingly.

“I hope she does.” Bertrand says, nihilist. “I am tired, Charlotte, I want an out.”

“There’s no way out for us, Bertrand.” She said, sadly. “I cannot leave my crappy marriage for the exact same reason why you cannot just let the Beaumont name plunder. For some absurd motive or another, we care about those aristocratic values we despise.”

“You could help me, though.” Bertrand said. “You could find Savannah, you could bring her back.”

She pulled her lips together. “I probably could, but I won’t. I may desire no ill to the girl, but she’s of much more benefit to me, and to herself, if she continues lost. I will help you, though.”

“How?” He asked, in mild frustration.

“I’ll make a Queen out of that girl of yours.”

Palace of the Brigades, Avlona, Cordonia, Fall 2015

“Bertrand, please, we’ve arrived very late last night, couldn’t you let Riley sleep for a little longer?” Maxwell’s voice resounded from the other side of Riley’s door.

It wasn’t that early, a little before 9 AM, but it was definitively earlier than when Maxwell used to knock on her door. And it was also true that they got in late, as Bertrand took the car and did not come back to pick them up. Consequently, Riley and Maxwell had to call a cab, and it took a while to find a driver who was willing to go all the way to Orikum, not to mention for them to actually get there from Avlona.

“Nonsense!” Bertrand bellowed. “She’s not in vacation! She wakes up when I tell her to!”

She rolled her eyes. Duke Ramsford was always so affable in his speech. Riley then marched to her door.

“Good morning, Bertrand.” She answered, fully dressed. “I see you had a good night’s sleep. Why don’t you come in? I was just getting ready for breakfast.”

Bertrand sneered, and the three people, the Beaumonts and a woman, entered and sat on Riley’s tea table.

Sitting on her made bed, Riley continued: “We missed you at yesterday’s festivities, Bertrand.”

“I’m sure my absence was absolutely heart-wrenching for you.” He grumbled.

“I certainly could have used a ride home. Aren’t you sad you missed out?” She asked, with a daring smile.

“Roasting in the sun while little boats go by is hardly what I’d consider stimulating.” He dismissed. “In fact, I wouldn’t have gone at all if I thought Maxwell could handle it on his own.”

“I can handle it…” Maxwell defended, overcast.

Bertrand barked at him. “Between forgetting to teach her the Cordonian Waltz and not warning her that she’d need swim attire, I’m starting to wonder if I can trust you with the most menial of tasks.”

Maxwell gaped. “How did you know about the swimsuit thing?”

“I have my ways!” Bertrand screamed. “And I’ll be keeping a closer look on Riley. So, clear your calendars, we need to prepare for the next event.”

Said girl rolled her eyes. “What event is that, since we’re on the subject.”

“Now, Lady Riley, we’ll be preparing you for the Feast of the Presentation.” The older man smirked wolfishly.

The Feast of the Presentation is an Orthodox religious holiday. The story relates that in thanksgiving for the birth of their daughter, Mary, Joachim and Anne decide to consecrate her to God, and bring her, at the age of three years, to the temple in Jerusalem. Mary remained in the Temple until her twelfth year, at which point she was assigned to Joseph as guardian.

Due to its date, December 4th, the Cordonians also celebrate it as the end of apple harvest season and the beginning of holiday season. Most churches throughout the country serve apple-based delicacies and promote fairs in celebration of the date.

Riley tried to focus on what Bertrand was saying. “Which reminds me, Lady Charlotte, may I present you Riley Flowers, she’s our contender this season. Riley, this is Charlotte Amelie Torelli, Duchess of Guastalla.”

Riley curtsies deeply. “Pleased to meet you, Your Grace.”

“The pleasure is all mine, miss Flowers.” The blonde responded, with a smug smile.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, Lady Charlotte, Maxwell.” Bertrand said and left.

“Very well!” Charlotte clapped. “Let’s start checking what you already know. Maxwell, would you be a lamb and bring me a cutlery set from the kitchens? It’ll give me more time to get to know Lady Riley.”

Maxwell beamed. “On it, ma’am!” He left.

Charlotte shut the door behind him. As his steps weren’t heard on the hallway anymore, the blonde girl started laughing scandalously.

“God, Riley, you’re an evil genius!” Charlotte said, in between laughs.

The black-haired smirked. “I take everything went as planned?”

“Perfectly so. Bertrand was drinking on the steps of Herring House, just as you predicted. He asked me about Savannah and Linda Rosa, and I conveniently maneuvered the conversation around you and how I could be of invaluable help.” She fished out an ID from her purse. “I’ve got clearance and everything.”

“Great. Now, let’s get on with our plan.” Riley went over to her trunk. From inside, she took a stack of papers. “Here, you publish them on the newspapers and on the dates I wrote on them.”

“Got it.” The blonde shoved the papers into her purse.

Riley handed her a post-it note. “Two days after you publish the first article, go to this address. It is in Orikum, by the marina. Over there, ask for two girls, Katya and Zarina. They’ll be of use for our plan. Be careful, though, do not go in without heavy artillery.”

The older woman twirled her hair. “Okay, get Katya and Zarina by any means necessary. And then what?”

“Then you’ll send them to the safehouse in Greece. I’ll set up everything they’ll need for the next phase there.”

“Very well.” Charlotte smiled wickedly. “Are you sure you want to do this? It is a path of no return.”

“Well, Charlotte, they invited the snake in. They should’ve known they would get bitten.”

Argyrocastron, Cordonia, Fall 2010

“Charlotte, I swear to God, if you don’t stop fidgeting, I’ll stab you with this pen.” Karen said, sternly, but did not spare her daughter a look. “I’m your mother and I gave you life, I am well within my right of taking it back.”

“Well, mother, if you had let me skip this odious event, I can assure you I wouldn’t be anywhere near your sights.” Charlotte spats.

“You don’t get to choose, Charlotte, and that’s final!” Her mother hollered. “Now, we are about to land. Collect yourself, there is bound to be press on the airport. With so many girls arriving today, they wouldn’t miss the opportunity to catch some on film, and it would be detestable for you to be discarded as soon as you arrive.”

“Careful, mother, you’re giving me ideas.” She smirked.

“Oh, believe me, Charlotte, I am not, for if it is in anyway unpleasant for me, it will be ten times worse for you.” The woman threatened.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. Concluding that her antagonizing would not lead her to any positive outcome, she stood up to take her luggage out of the carrier. In the bag, there was her make-up, some medicine, and a green ascot with a gold and ruby stud.

She applied the make-up to disguise her tired look, used a brush to soften her long, blonde hair, took a calming draught, and covered herself with the long ascot.

Karen undergoes through similar procedures, and soon enough both women were ready to get off the plane. The aged Princess is the first one out, to lure paparazzo. When she was two steps down, Charlotte took a deep breath and appeared off the plane’s door.

A supernova-worth of flashes went on that moment. The police were barely containing the barrage of journalists vying for a statement from the young woman.

The Rosenberg Investment Fund was the most important foreign investor in the Balkans, controlling a sizeable chunk of Cordonia’s sovereign debt, building billions of Euros worth of infrastructure works, and having an important role in the financing of apple orchards and other agricultural produce by the national nobility.

All in all, it did not take a very good of an analyst to figure out Ludwig and Karen Rosenberg were more powerful in Cordonia than the King himself.

Their daughter’s debut in the country’s social season was a strong, if confusing, signal. To social, political and economic press alike. What was on their mind, what that even mean, is the feeling racing through the hearts and minds of every journalist on Central Europe.

Charlotte herself was somewhat of a sui generis figure: while far from a strange to European tabloids, having had an army of boyfriends and suitors, never the Rosenberg name was sullied in such a publication. In fact, aside from being a cocotte, the common reader of those magazines would be hard-pressed to find a character flaw in her behavior.

Whether this is because of Charlotte’s moral fiber or Rosenbergs’ far-reaching, strong-arming tentacles remains unknown.

That morning, however, was not the time for statements, and mother and daughter hurried to the car waiting by the airfield lane.

As the vehicle makes its hour-long journey for Brigade Hill, Karen lectures her offspring. “Charlotte, let us talk strategy.”

“If we must.” The youngest responded, with a disinterested look to the passing scenario.

Karen considered an intervention but decided to pick her battles. “You have all of our family’s resources at your service, so I expect you to perform well. And when I say for you to perform well, I do not mean for you to win, lest of all we marry into that problem of a Royal Family, but I do mean for you to throw the Court, the country and the world a show of grace and nobility. I want you to assert our dominance over the Crown, do you understand?”

“Perfectly, mother. It shall be done as you desire.” She grumbled.

“Very well, then.” Karen smiled, satisfied. “I will not be able to accompany the whole time you’ll be here, I have to attend to your father, but I’ll be here as often as I am able. Focus on Leo and the other contenders, leave Constantine and Regina to me. Do you remember the data we collected on the Prince?”

“Foolish, ill-prepared, independent thinker, prone to disappearances, a rebel.” Charlotte recited, unamused. “To I have to go on?”

Karen narrowed her eyes. “No, it is quite enough. I take you know why you must do this spectacle?”

“To punish me for some bad karma of lives past?”

“Don’t be silly.” She scoffed. “You must assert our power in Cordonia. We have much to lose in an upheaval, and your presence demonstrate to powers, established or otherwise, that we are mindful of our investments and will not stand for the dilapidation of our rights and estates.”

As Karen finished her piece, the car did a turn and they entered Le Berceuse, the neighborhood at Brigade Hill’s feet. A small crowd leaned from the large sidewalks of the closed avenue, so they could take a peek of Europe’s great and finest, not to mention their future Queen.

“Go on, Charlotte. Open the window and wave at the people.” The older woman commanded.

Charlotte gritted her teeth. “As you wish, mother.”

Applewood, Neokastron, Cordonia, Fall 2015

The following weekend, the Beaumonts were on their way to the Royal Family’s summer retreat. Waking from a nice nap, Riley stretch her arms and yawn.

“How long until we arrive?” She asks. “I’m growing restless.”

While not the longest trip they’ve made this season, as the distance between Valona and Applewood did not reach 150 kilometers, it was one of the most unpleasant. The roads through the mountains were terrible, and there were no rest stops on their way.

“We’re almost there, Riley.” Maxwell eagerly responded. “Believe me, I’m as anxious as you to get out of this car, especially because we’re going to Applewood!”

“Is that really the name of the Royal Family’s country manor? I kinda expected something out of the Illiad or something.” She asked.

Bertrand rolled his eyes, as it was his go-to expression these days. “It’s decidedly appropriate. Applewood Manor borders the largest apple orchard in the entire kingdom, and that’s where they first cultivated the apple varietal Cordonia is most famous for.”

“The Cordonian Ruby.” Riley confirmed. “They used it for some upscale pies and ciders back in New York.”

“Yes, that is the one. The Cordonian Ruby is a red varietal that’s pleasant crisp with an intense flavor that has notes of honeyed caramel.” Bertrand said, excitedly for once.

Riley was eager to remind him it was only but an apple, but she bit back the remark. Instead, she said: “You know, that’s probably the most poetic thing you’ve ever said.”

“Certain subjects call for a little poetry.” Bertrand commented. “Now, I trust Lady Charlotte taught you to exhaustion your role this weekend?”

“Yes, emphasis on exhaustion.” Riley responded. “Which reminds me, where is she?”

“Charlotte went to Italy for the weekend.” Maxwell provided. “She said she was tired and missed her home.”

She lied, of course. She’d sooner miss a cancer than she would Federigo.

“Not less than expected, for her to be tired, of course. Since the King’s announced his retirement, everything has changed, and that must reflect on your training.” The eldest of them lectured.

Riley was trying to forget about that particular development, not that it has been easy. “That is very worrying, yeah. I saw the King talking to Liam about it at the beach party.”

That seemed to peak Bertrand’s interest. “Really? What do you know about it?”

Such eagerness rose suspicion in Riley’s mind. Bertrand was still scrapping for cash, and as such wasn’t trustworthy with sensitive realm information. “Nothing of importance,” She said. “The King sent me packing before he said anything, and I haven’t spoken to Liam ever since. Actually, I haven’t seen him around much lately.”

“He’s probably busy with preparations for the last leg of the season.” Maxwell cheerily commented.

“That’s precisely the reason we need to make a more concerted effort. We’re no longer playing for the title of Princess. If Riley marries him, she will be Queen. The stakes are higher than ever. We must succeed.” Bertrand said, fierce. “Now, the other ladies are only going to get more competitive, so you need to be ready. We’re running out of time, after all. It’s December, there’s only a month and a half until Theophany.”

“I don’t know whether I feel like it’s been a long or a short time.” Riley contemplates.

“Time runs differently when you’re jet-setting around Cordonia.” Maxwell commented.

“Well, no matter.” Riley dismissed the thought. “What’s the game plan for today?”

“No time to play coy. Spend as much time with Liam as possible.” Maxwell oriented.

“But if you cannot do that, try to not get in trouble.” Bertrand said, sternly.

Riley narrowed her eyes at him. “Darn it, I was so excited by the prospect of setting Regina’s hair on fire!”

Maxwell snickered, but Bertrand rolled his eyes. “Quiet, you. According to my reports, you, Olivia and Madeleine are the frontrunners.”

“But Riley and Liam have a special connection.” Maxwell countered.

“His Royal Highness isn’t the only one who matters.” Bertrand lectured. “Olivia and Madeleine may not be the foremost in the Prince’s heart, but they are popular with other royals, the nobles and the Parliament. Which means they’re both going to try to undermine you, Riley.”

“Nothing new under the sun, then.” Riley commented, disillusioned. “Though, I must confess, I don’t have much intel on Madeleine.”

“Her parents are high Cordonian nobility, which is where she gets her courtesy title of Countess. Her family is powerful, one of the five original noble families in the realm.” Bertrand provided.

“The ones descended from the medieval kings who fought with Napoleon against the Turks, I take it?” Riley asked.

Bertrand hummed. “Yes, the Royal Family and the other four, the Fydelians, the Nevrakis, the Thornes and the Blackspine Lords. As I was saying, Madeleine also grew up immersed in the intrigues and maneuverings of courtly life. Don’t underestimate her. She’s used to winning.

“Anyway, you won’t be able to avoid either lady in public but try your best to keep your cool and be diplomatic, especially when the press is around. You’ve done remarkably well, but there’s still room to fail.” Bertrand finished his speech.

Riley nodded, as the car made a turn and begins to slow down.

“We’re here!” Maxwell celebrated.

Exiting the car, the three noblepeople step onto the sprawling estate of Applewood Manor. A large, stone-gray manor house stands elegantly amidst manicured gardens, and beyond it, orchards to wherever the eye can see stretch out.

“It is an imposing residence.” Riley commented.

Maxwell motioned around. “This is Applewood, where we’ll be staying for the next few weeks.”

Maxwell and Riley pick up the luggage from the car and cross the long packed-dirt driveway leading to the manor.

“Now we should settle in quickly.” Bertrand oriented. “The Feast of the Presentation will last today and tomorrow, and the first event is this afternoon.”

“What kind of apple-themed, fun activities are we talking about?” Riley asks, barely containing the irony.

“Delicious ones!” Maxwell says. “Apple picking, apple pie baking, apple tree planting.”

“We Cordonians take our traditions very seriously. Be sure to show enthusiasm for all the events.” Bertrand warned. “That starts with finding something suitable to wear.”

“Way ahead of you, Bertrand.” Riley dismissed. “I’ve got just the thing in my bag. I’ll be down in fifteen minutes.”

Palace of the Brigades, Avlona, Cordonia, Fall 2010

“For all of comfort and opulence, why no-one ever thinks of putting a minibar on the guest rooms?” Charlotte thought, frustrated, while she tried to find her way to the kitchens on the pitch-black darkness of the Cordonian night.

It was little before 2 AM, she was parched with thirst and her handmaid had since long retired for the night. She couldn’t find a single servant on her way down to, at the very least, point her in the right direction. Thankfully, she hadn’t crossed with a guard either, she’d be hard-pressed explaining to them why she was up so late, wandering the halls on her sleepwear.

Charlotte got down a flight of stairs, one she believed was the service one, carefully going one step at a time. A short walk later and she finally found the switcher. She was in the kitchens.

“Hallelujah.” She breathed out.

She poured herself a glass of water, swallowed it greedily and poured yet another. As she was savoring her second, less desperate cup, she spotted a light coming from a door on the other side of the room.

Her curiosity once more got the best out of her, as Charlotte soon found herself opening that door. On the other side, there was a room smaller than a cupboard, having only a hole on the floor and some rustic stairs downwards. A clinking noise came from the underground, and Charlotte followed it, curious as to find out what was it.

At the bottom, there was a wide room, a wine cellar. Shelves and shelves filled to the brim with bottles of wine, champagne and other distilled drinks. There, in the center, there was a table and a man appreciating a tumbler.

“Prince Leo!” She recognized.

“Is this how it’s going to be now?” Leo complained. “Girls propositioning me on their evening wear? Not that I particularly mind, but it never had happened before. Kudos for being innovative.”

Charlotte covered herself, uncomfortable. “I have you know I am not propositioning anybody. I came for some water and saw the light on. I need no subterfuge to have a man in my bed.” She sneered.

He laughed, ironically. “Mighty speech you have.”

“I am Charlotte Amelie von Rosenberg, I am entitled to it.” She smiled, wolfishly.

“Lady Charlotte.” He hummed. “My father said I should be nice to you. I think a grown man to fear a small girl is stupid.”

“I courteously disagree, Your Majesty.” She used the title ironically. “I believe it is wise to fear a little girl, especially when that specific little girl could foreclose your family at whim. Wouldn’t it be humiliating? To beg to the nation for a stipend, just because you cannot be bothered to be fiscally responsible?”

His expression darkened. “Don’t be assuming.”

“Oh, you think I lie?” She haughtily asks. “Go ahead, ask your father. You’ll have a nice surprise.”

“That’s why you came here? To vulture our debt?” He asked.

“I prefer calling it ‘protecting my interests’, but yes. That’s why I came, but I’ll stay for a completely different reason.” She stole a glass of distilled off of the table. “Seeing you suffer your slow walk to an inevitable fate seems more enjoyable every minute.”

With that said, she downs her drink, turns on her heels and leaves the room.

Applewood, Neokastron, Cordonia, Fall 2015

Dressed to impress, Riley got down the stairs two steps at a time. She wore a white, long, richly embroidered tunic and a pair of brown, high boots.

At the orchards, she is escorted past a crowd of people eagerly awaiting the beginning of the Feast of the Presentation. All the ladies vying for Liam’s hand stand in a loose semi-circle under the shade of a large apple tree.

As often is, Riley is late, and the only place left is between Olivia and Madeleine. A rock and a hard place as it ever were.

Olivia soured at the sight of Riley. “Shouldn’t you be in the back somewhere with Drake and the other commoners?”

“Shouldn’t you be in a pound with the other rabid fry dogs?” Riley asked, faux-sweetly.

Olivia seemed every bit like a rabid dog ready to pounce, but Madeleine shushed them. “It’s starting.”

Riley forced herself to pay attention to the King and Queen standing in the center of their girl-circle, proudly smiling near several wicker baskets full of brilliant red apples. The press throngs around you, quieting as the King raises his arm.

“Welcome to the annual Feast of the Presentation!” The man announced.

Regina smiled, rehearsedly, from Constantine’s side. “As is tradition,” She says. “Myself and several ladies will sample the apples of the last picking of the season.”

The church attendants, who accompany the parish priest and the Royal Family to the event, distribute apple slices to the suitors.

“It’s so red, it really is like a ruby.” Riley noticed the peel on her slice.

“Looks delicious.” Hana commented, from next to Olivia.

“Oh, it is!” The redheaded said. “I cannot wait for you to try it.”

Suspicious, to say the least.

“You know, I actually look forward to this every year.” Madeleine diplomatically remarked.

“Ladies, if you will, please try your apples.” Regina gave the sign.

Every reporter, cameraman and photographer looked eagerly at the group, ready to register their reactions.

As Riley put the fruit on her mouth, she knew why Olivia was so eager for them to eat it. It was very bitter and very sour, acidic. She then recalled every time she’d seen a Cordonian apple being served, it had been cooked to exhaustion. It was not the type of food to be eaten raw.

Channeling her inner child, the one who was kept in the table until finished her meal and said her graces, Riley swallowed and smiled brightly at the cameras surrounding her.

“Absolutely delicious.” She declared, seeming every bit as natural as it wasn’t really.

“It looks like you enjoyed the Cordonian Ruby, Lady Riley?” A reporter asked her.

“It certainly has character!” She said, admiring her own wit.

Hana, however, wasn’t as covert. “I wasn’t expecting such a sour taste.” She complained.

“The last crop of the season always has a particular bite to it.” Madeleine said, always with a smile. “I rather like the taste, personally.”

“You would.” Olivia sneered.

The King clears his throat, calling the attendees to attention. “It looks like our ladies enjoyed their apples.” Constantine announced, and Riley forced a snicker away. “I’d like to extend a special thanks to our apple growers and farmers for preserving our noble tradition.”

“And, with that, I wish you all a happy Presentation.” Regina said, wrapping the ceremony.

“Eísodos tís Panagías Theotókou.” The priest said, and the attendees repeated, gravely.

It is the Virgin Mary, they acknowledged.

With that, the sovereign couple left with the parson, while the parishioners dispersed. The Presentation was their opportunity to visit the gardens of Applewood and to steal one or another apple still on the branches.

The press, however, hounded around the women, with special note to Olivia, Madeleine and Riley herself.

“Would it be alright if we ask you some questions?” Donald Brine, Riley recalled, came forward.

“Of course.” Madeleine said, enthusiastically. “The Fydelian Estate has always generously supported the Cordonian Broadcasting Center. I look forward to your favorable report.” She underhandedly threatened.

“And I haven’t forgotten the amazing article about the Nevrakis family history in Trend several years back.” Olivia flashed a shark-like smile, as her weapon of choice seemed to be bribery.

“Your family has always been as fashionable as it is noble.” Ana de Luca praised.

Remembering Bertrand’s words, Riley smiled innocently. “Well, Mr. Brine, Ms. De Luca, while I do not have a history with your respective media, I can give you a compelling story. After all, I do not recall hearing about someone of my background on this competition before.”

This seemed to spike de Luca and Brine’s attention. “Trend would be interested in your insights as someone on the inside, Lady Riley.” The blonde said.

Madeleine soon intervened. “Lady Riley makes an excellent point, and I’d like to remind everyone that we all have a relationship with the Prince who could provide a unique spin.”

“Yes, I’ve been Liam’s friend since childhood.” Olivia offered.

“And I, myself, am close to the Prince and have the pleasure of calling the Queen my friend.” Madeleine countered. “Now, any other questions?”

“You’ve been at court enjoying all the events the social season has to offer and competing for the Prince’s attention.” Brine said. “At this stage, who do you think the Prince will choose?”

“In my outlook, Mr. Brine, I believe Liam will choose the one who’s going to make the best Queen. The Prince is loyal and dedicated. He’ll do what’s best for his country and people.” Riley commented, earnestly.

“But you’re still wishing it’ll be you?” de Luca follow-up.

“Of course, but I know the Prince will do whatever is right. It is on me to be worthy of being his choice.” She responded.

That seemed to delight Ana de Luca. “Can I quote you on that?”

“Sure.”

“Very well-put, Lady Riley.” Madeleine used her passive-aggressive tactic again. “I know I find the Prince’s devotion to cause and country inspiring.”

“As do we all, Lady Madeleine. That’s it for questions.” Ana de Luca wrapped up.

“Thank you, ladies. Especially you, Lady Riley. Your answers were quite interesting.” Donald Brine praised.

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Brine.”

The reporters walk off. Olivia glares at Riley, while Madeleine preferred a considering stance.

“That was… informative.” Madeleine said. “Lady Riley, you answered with such grace and poise. It was rather enviable. I only hope you can keep it up without any mishaps. Some women cannot handle the pressure.”

“Oh, believe me, Lady Madeleine, while I lack all your natural flare, I am as sturdy and as determined as it gets.” Riley countered with her own veiled threat.

“If either of you think you’ve won, you’ve got another thing coming.” Olivia barked with her usual impulsiveness.

“Oh, Olivia, dear. I think we all know where we stand. May the best woman win.” Madeleine says, turns on her heels and leave.

Olivia shakes her head and stalks in the opposite direction, while Riley sights Maxwell and Bertrand waiting on the sidelines.

“You did well up there with the press. Madeleine did not shake you.” Bertrand praised.

“Yeah, but she spun everything positively for herself.” Riley countered.

“Still, this gives me hope.” He said.

“So, what happens now?” She asked.

“Right now, I suggest you and Maxwell go down this path and enjoy a stroll through the gardens. I have in good authority that the Prince is there now. I’ll catch up with you later.” Bertrand oriented.

Maxwell then latched onto Riley’s arm. “Come on, I’ll show where to go!”

Hippodrome Colline de Miel, Phoenike, Cordonia, Fall 2010

“I do not know why your father complains so,” The womanly voice came from the fence of the round pen. “I find it very easy to find you. The secret is finding the most secluded place, preferably devoid of blue-blooded people.”

The man led the horse to the point closest to the girl. “Lady Charlotte, it is always a pleasure seeing you.”

She snickered. “Oh, Leo, you’re a filthy liar, but thank you for the sentiment. It is nice to see you too, Prince Liam.” She greeted the other young man on the pen.

“Good afternoon, Lady Charlotte.” The youngest acknowledged the woman but kept his distance. Something told him they would appreciate the privacy.

“I do not lie, Lady Charlotte. I find your presence refreshing, actually.” He smiled, flirty.

“I live to please, Your Highness.” She gave him a smile of her own.

“Why aren’t you at the races?” He asked.

Charlotte laughed heartily. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I never am where I am supposed to be. I wouldn’t want to disappoint everybody by doing what I should do.”

“It would take most of the fun of the season, I must admit.” She said, with a tint of irony. “In the name of isonomy, I must tell you I find horse races so very boring! After the thousandth lap, I could not take it anymore and tried to find something to amuse me.”

“I must not disappoint then.” He told her. “Do you wish to ride?”

“If there is an available horse, yes, I would like it very much.”

A stable hand brought her a brown, vigorous mare. Due to her state of dress, a tight, mid-calves skirt, Charlotte had to sidesaddle the horse. Her aristocratic training, however, gave her a faultless posture on the saddle.

“You are a vision of grace, Lady Charlotte.” Liam commented.

“Thank you, Liam. You are too kind.” She smiled at him.

“Leo, don’t you think you should show Lady Charlotte the Apolonian Ruins?” Liam suggested. “I would accompany you, but I suppose one of us should be with Father at the Downs, and the Derby must be about to end.”

“Oh, that would be lovely!” Charlotte exclaimed, eagerly.

“Well, if you insist, sure.” Leo said. “Besides, I don’t mind an excuse to be away from here when Father when he noticed I slipped away and I hadn’t even looked to the other girls.”

Leo and Charlotte started trotting to the gate, while Liam got down of his horse. A few meters away from the pen, already going through a small forested area, Charlotte commented: “The girls are growing restless, you know? You must be the most unengaging suitor ever to exist!”

“It’s hard to be engaging when you’re really not that interested.” He shrugged.

“That I could notice. But there’s the thing, you’re being pursued by Europe’s most eligible women, one might think you’d be at least glad about that.” She said, in a mockery stance.

“They’re all so pretty, and yet so unbearably boring.” He complained.

Charlotte snickered. “You still haven’t met them properly. They seem all dull and empty-headed, but once you get to know them, you notice they’re self-centered, too.”

“Have you met Madeleine yet?” He asks.

“Madeleine of Fydelia? Oh, yeah, I’ve been introduced.” She scoffed. “If I was serious about this thing, I’d might even fear her.”

“Typical Madeleine. When Regina married my father, she came to live with us. She and I go way back.” He commented.

“So little Madeleine was just as domineering as 30-year-old Madeleine?”

“Perhaps even more. She used to raise Hell on the Palace, ever so willful. No-one convinces me that she wasn’t the one who drove Olivia Nevrakis away just for spite.”

“I have no trouble believing that.” Charlotte snickered. “How about Liam? He seems a nice boy, but so very…” She struggled to find the word. “Shy, I guess. Meek.”

“Liam is very conscientious.” Leo said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that dedication to duty in anyone else, and that’s admirable in its own way, but all that obsession with his part to play turned him into a resigned person. He does not believe he’s allowed to aspire outside his public persona, and that causes him an unnamable amount of melancholy.”

“I understand, it is so very sad.” She said, in a low tone. “But he is the second-born, he should be entitled to some reprieve.”

“Yeah, second-born.” He grumbled.

Charlotte looked pointedly at him. “I know you’re not that thrilled about being king, and I get it. Aristocratic life is exhausting enough, I cannot fathom to rule a country, but don’t you think you should at least look the part?”

“The thing is, I don’t feel that icy disposition to sacrifice my life for the greater good like Liam, nor I am a glory hound like my father.” He defended.

“And what do you feel, then, Leo? What do you want to do in life?” Charlotte enquired.

“I feel a fire in my heart. I feel drawn to extreme emotions, I am not made for that lukewarm, constant life Regina and my father sing praise of.”

Charlotte considered Leo’s statement silently for a minute, and then says: “Careful with what you wish for.”

Applewood, Neokastron, Cordonia, Fall 2015

Maxwell and Riley walked arm-in-arm through the cobbled path, when they heard an agitated voice.

“Hold on, Maxwell.” Riley pulled on his arm. “Isn’t that Bertrand with Ana de Luca, from Trend?” She motioned with her chin across the path.

Over at a somewhat-discreet, wooded area, Bertrand screamed as loud as his whispering voice could stand. “Ana, you’re being unreasonable!”

“Not the way I see it.” She sneered.

Bertrand turns angrily and storms off, and Riley whispers to Maxwell: “Looks like something’s going on. Do you know what’s up?”

“Not really…” He responded, in a similar voice. “Bertrand doesn’t let me get involved with House Beaumont stuff. He thinks I’d just screw up.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s just stupid!” She said, forsaking her indoor voice.

“I kind of see his point.” He lamented. “I am kind of a screw-up.”

“That’s still stupid, Maxwell. You’re every bit as capable of helping as Bertrand. Not to mention you’re every bit as a Beaumont, too. You’re entitled to it!” Riley argued.

He looks over where Ana was standing. “It does look like things didn’t go well with that reporter… maybe I could help. But I don’t want to distract you, we were supposed to be going find the Prince.”

“Oh, well, Liam can wait. Let’s go.” She pulled Maxwell over to Ana.

“Do you really think we should do it?” He asked, insecure.

She stopped and faced him, looking deep into his eyes and placing her two hands in either of his arms. “Maxwell, I know you want to help your brother. I trust you, and I’m here to help you on the odd chance from you doing something stupid, so let’s do it.”

He smiled at her. “Thanks for coming with me, Riley. I hate awkward situations.”

As Riley and Maxwell approach the reporter, the blonde turns to the black-haired. “Lady Riley, what a surprise. Did you want to add to your earlier comments?”

“Yes, Ms. De Luca. I’m actually here with my friend, Maxwell.” She responded, diplomatically. “We wanted to see if you’d be willing to share some information with us.”

“Straight to the point. I like that.” The blonde smiled, deviant. “First off, if we’re talking off the record, just call me Ana.”

“It’d be my pleasure, Ana.” Riley said, with a smile of her own. “I wanted to know what you and Bertrand were arguing about.”

“Bertrand’s always been very concerned with how the world sees him and his house.” Ana explained. “Let’s just say that my view of what’s currently going on don’t exactly match with the image he wants the world to see.”

“So, you know that we’re broke.” Maxwell summed up.

“Not to put too fine a point on it, but yes. What happens to the Beaumont House is Cordonian news.” The blonde said.

Maxwell grumbled. “We’re not really that important.”

Ana scoffed. “I beg to differ. Royal connections, a political office, a traditional surname, an, albeit dilapidated, enviable fortune. There’s much to covet. Besides, Bertrand and his playboy shenanigans made House Beaumont stand out. He catapulted your family name into the spotlight.

“Good or bad, everyone wants to know what’s going on with you. And I happen to think that people deserve to know the truth. But Bertrand doesn’t see it that way. He was furious.”

“Maxwell?” Riley said, softly. “Would you mind excusing me and Ana?”

He looked at his black-haired companion, distressed. “What? Why?”

“I have something private to talk to her.” She responded, simply. “It will only take a minute.”

Maxwell seemed to consider it, and came close to deny it, but conceded and gave them some space.

Looking at Ana, Riley commenced. “You know, I was very hurt when you did not mention my article about Cordonian human trafficking this morning.”

“Lady Riley, you seem a smart girl. Surely you’ve noticed the overall silence pact we, the press, keep on such subjects. Dēmokratía is the only one who’s borderline insane enough to publish such a piece.” Ana said, somewhat fearful.

“It’s a pity, really.” Riley faux-lamented, taking a manila envelope from her purse and handing it to her. “I was so sure you’d like in this, and I am all for isonomy. Perhaps you’d be interested in publishing it.”

Ana peeked into the envelope. “Mother of God!” She backtracked, in astonishment. “Is this the truth?”

“There is more than enough proof inside to sustain a story.” Riley said, smiling devilishly. “This can be all yours, if you promise to keep the Beaumont piece away from the print. Permanently.”

“No… no, I couldn’t.” She closed the envelope, but still held it firmly against her body. “I could end up deported, or even dead. You too, for that matter.”

“The government couldn’t shut down every paper and kill off every journalist. The pact is held by an unstable balance, and you know it. It is bound to be broken sooner or later, and the day draws close. You could be the first, Ana, all you must do is to keep the Beaumonts’ secret and this envelope will be all yours.” Riley offered, seductively.

“How… how can you be sure the others will publish material, too?” The blonde asked, uncertain.

“I am laying the ground with them. All they need is one single scandal, and all Hell breaks loose.”

Ana looked at Riley but couldn’t sustain it. Finally, she caved. “You have a deal.”

“I knew you would see reason, Ana. It has been a pleasure doing business with you.” And, with that, the young woman left to join Maxwell over at the garden fountain.

He looked at Riley expectantly. “So? What did she say?”

She smiled at him. “Ana might as well take that secret to her grave.”

Maxwell beamed and hugged and twirled Riley, laughing cheerfully. “Thank you, little blossom, thank you so much!”

Herring House, Le Berceuse, Avlona, Cordonia, New Year’s Eve 2010

“I was beginning to think I wouldn’t meet you at all tonight.” The voice came from behind Bertrand.

“Charlotte.” He acknowledged. “You don’t know how glad I am for you to be here.”

She laughed. “Because I am Charlotte or because I am Rosenberg?”

The man fought against the blush. “Both, actually.”

“Be as it may, I’m happy to be here, too.” She smiled at him, teasingly. “How are you liking your own party?”

He smiled smugly. “Well, I am known to throw killer parties. And you? How are you feeling being the frontrunner for Prince Leo’s hand?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” She laughed it off.

“In three months, you’re the only girl he spent more than five minutes with.” Bertrand pointed out. “Besides, he likes you.”

“Yes, he likes me, not loves me.” Charlotte said.

He shrugged. “Theophany’s two weeks away. It’s too late in the game to pick up anyone else.”

“Well, I believe there’s much that could happen in a fortnight.” She smiled. “I see Prince Liam is in attendance.”

“Yes, he’s friends with Maxwell.” He said and, faced with Charlotte’s confusion, continued: “I don’t believe you’ve met him, he’s my younger brother.”

“I didn’t know you had a sibling!” She said, cheerful. “Where is he?”

“He didn’t attend the court anymore.” He said, with a rather uncharacteristic harshness.

Charlotte noted the sensibility of the subject and turned thoughtful. “I did not interact much with the younger Prince, as I am often with Leo, and he’s often away from the social functions, but the little I know him, he seems to shy away from attention, female or otherwise.”

“He is very different from Leo.” Bertrand commented. “But why do you say that?”

“I am curious about him. Leo did not indulge me in my interest, so I thought I could use some subterfuges.”

Bertrand considered probing further, but decided against, preferring to say: “I don’t know if I can be of much help. I am not very close to him, not like Maxwell.”

Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t need to know anything very personal, it’s just that, with what Leo has shared, I wonder if he’s ever had a relationship.”

“He had some girlfriends, to my recollection. Flings, a lengthier relationship with Olivia Nevrakis, the Duchess of Lythikos.” Bertrand provided. “I cannot say for sure. Maxwell never said anything about it, and everything was so very discreet, but I think it is very unlikely it did not happen.”

She tutted. “I see. But enough about Court gossip. I want to know what’s been going on with the Count of Cherbourg.”

“A man of my station hardly goes without.” He responded, with a tint of lasciviousness.

“So, I’ve heard. But that,” She paused and looked to the side. “Is not what I wanted to know.”

He looked over to where she was pointing with her eye. Savannah was talking excitedly to a noblewoman. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Look, Bertrand, I might not like the girl, nor really know what on Earth do you see in her, but you following her around with puppy eyes is borderline pathetic. Grow a pair and ask her to dance.”

Before Bertrand could say anything, though, a bunch of partygoers appeared and rushed him to the staircase for a New Year’s toast.

Charlotte glinted knowingly at him from the multitude of party-goers and then disappeared.

Applewood, Neokastron, Cordonia, Fall 2015

A short walk later, Maxwell left Riley at a small Japanese garden at the edge of the orchards. She supposed it was a beautiful retreat on Spring, when the cherry trees were in bloom.

The place was quiet, with only a few birds chirping on the trees and the water from a stream flowing through the rocks.

No sign of Liam.

“Where might he be?” Riley asked Maxwell. “He’s been strange since the Regatta, and I’m starting to get worried.”

“Bertrand said he’d be around. Don’t worry, I’ll look for him, just wait here.” Maxwell untangled his arm from hers and walked back the path.

When he wandered away, Riley looked to her surroundings and saw a small gazebo nestled discreetly amongst some rocks. Walking over there, she spotted Liam looking contemplatively at a still pond of golden fish.

“Liam?” She called.

“Riley!” He responded, surprised.

“Is there something wrong?” She asked, coming closer.

“No. It’s just…” He paused, trying to organize his thoughts. “It’s nothing, never mind.”

She laughed, melancholically. “When will you realize that line don’t work on me? Come on, you’re worried with something. What is it?”

He sighed. “Riley, can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” She smiled, mirthfully. “But yeah, ask away.”

He composed the question most carefully. “Do you… do you think you could handle being Queen of Cordonia? Truly?”

“That’s a good question.” She mumbled, thoughtfully. “It’s hard to tell, I haven’t been around for long, and there’s no Queen School for me to attend. But I’d like to think that yeah, I could.”

Liam seemed to take on her response. “That’s… good.”

“Is that what’s been on your mind recently?” She asked. “Theophany?” The word’s significance weighed on them both.

“That’s part of it.” He admitted. “But as for the rest, I… it’s not something I can talk about. With anyone. But trust me, if I could… you’d be the one I’d like to tell.”

She dropped her body to the ground and sat against the railing of the gazebo. “I’d like to tell you that you can trust me, that nothing could be that dramatic, that you can tell me anything. But you can’t, can you? I cannot be trusted with sensitive information, and everything can, and most probably is, that dramatic.”

He kneeled in front of her but did not say a thing.

She hugged his leaning body. “I’m sorry, Liam.”

The man did not have to ask what she was sorry about. “Honestly, it’s fine. Anyway, it’s just boring royal business. Not worth bothering you in any case.”

She nodded. “Well, then, I suppose I could accompany you to a tour of the gardens.”

He smiles, excitedly, and offer her his arm. She took it and they walked away from the gazebo and wind their way through the flowers.

“I’ve always loved the view here.” Liam commented.

“It must be pretty in April, with the blossoms.” Riley said. “I’ve never seen so many fruit trees!”

“I wish I could stay here all day, but…”

Riley prepared to hear Olivia’s name. “But?”

“I have plans to meet Drake.” He said, and Riley couldn’t help but feel rather relieved.

“Oh.” She breathed. “I didn’t mean to impose.”

“You’re welcome to come with.” Liam beamed. “He’d probably be happy to see you. He sort of dreads this day every year.”

“Why? Is he allergic to apples or morally against abandonment of minors in religious temples?”

“He does like apples, and I don’t know his position on child services.” He smiled. “Actually, today’s Drake’s birthday.”

It was only then that the date came rushing to her head. Today was December 4th, 2015. She completely forgot about her own birthday, November 2nd. Well, her true birthday, she’d have to look at her passport to see when Riley was born.

Her frown must be very pronounced, for Liam made a worried face and asked: “Riley, is there something on the matter?”

She blinked twice, as if she just returned to her own body. “No, no, nothing. It’s just that I just remembered I missed somebody’s birthday last month. Well, anyway, we should go out and celebrate!”

“Drake isn’t really the type to celebrate.” Liam said. “He usually spends the day hiding out in his room. Sometimes I’m able to convince him to have a drink with me, but that’s about as far as it goes.” The Prince looked over at the entrance of the Japanese garden. “Ah, there he is now.”

Drake, Hana and Maxwell appeared over the tree line. “Drake!” Riley exclaimed.

“Why do you look so happy to see me?” He looked, wary, and soon enough the reality came falling into him. “Oh, no. God, no.”

“Oh, God, yes.” She smirked. “Happy birthday!”

“Liam, you told her?!” He bites.

“My deepest apologies, Drake.” Liam said, not looking that regretful. “I forgot it was such a guarded secret.”

Drake sighed. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter, because this is the last we’re ever going to speak of it ever again.”

“You don’t want to do something fun on your birthday?” Hana asks. “Even I was allowed petit fours and an hour playing with my father’s cat each year.”

“Man, Drake, even Hana feels bad for you.” Maxwell pointed out, borderline ironic.

The tall man scowled. “I don’t need fun to enjoy myself. Besides, what could you jokers possibly want to do that would be fun for me?”

Riley narrowed her eyes at him. “What happened to you, Drake? Were you raised by wolves?”

“Are all Americans as fussy as Drake is about birthdays?” Maxwell asked.

She snorted. “Drake’s an American?”

“Half. On my mother’s side.” He said, dismissively.

She picked up her cellphone. “The internet says there’s a Western American bar in Tirkan. How about that, Drake? Whiskey, mechanical bull riding, some good ol’ American fun.”

“I guess it doesn’t sound horrible… but I can’t ask you guys to sneak out for that.” He responded.

“Nonsense. I’d love that.” Liam assured him, smiling.

“I’d like to understand more about Riley’s American culture.” Hana weighed.

“And I’ll take any excuse to drink and dance the night away!” Maxwell chirped.

Drake faced Riley, pointedly. “Do you really want to do this, Riley?”

“Drake, I’d escape Alcatraz if it meant for you to swallow your joker comment. We’re going out, and you’ll have the time of your life.” Her eyes glinted in determination.

Palace of the Brigades, Avlona, Cordonia, Theophany 2011

A knock surprised the women gathered inside the bedroom.

“Go and send whomever it is away.�� The oldest lady commanded a handmaid, with a twirl of a hand.

The girl obeyed and left for the door. A short discussion later, and a pair of stepping patterns approached the dresser.

“Good evening, Your Honor. Lady Charlotte.” The man greeted the two noble ladies in the room.

“Good evening, Your Majesty.” Karen curtsied appropriately, while glared at the maid, who scurried away through the door. “What do we owe the pleasure?”

“I was hoping to speak with Lady Charlotte.” He said, and then added: “Privately.”

The woman measured him, considering his request. Finally, she commanded the hairdresser and the make-up artist to leave. “You have ten minutes. We must prepare for tonight.” And with that, she left through the same door the servants did.

“Hey, Leo.” The girl greeted, for the first time since he’s arrived. “How may I be of service?”

He smirked. “If you could lend me your hand in marriage, I’d be most obliged.”

She turned to him and raised from the dresser. “Leo, before I answer it, tell me. Do you love me?”

“Why do you ask?” He looks pointedly at her.

“I find that I should know that before I marry someone, Leo.” She said. “Especially if marrying that someone brings me a big responsibility.”

“Don’t we have an aristocratic duty,” He spat the words. “To our families? To our countries? What is the use of loving someone or not?”

“Because we have a choice, Leo!” She shouted. “I have a choice not to be a Queen, and you have a say on who’s going to be. I don’t love you, and if you don’t love me, I won’t be making any sacrifices for you.”

He sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “No. I don’t love you.”

She sat next to him and passed an arm through his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Leo.”

“Regina wants me to marry Madeleine.” He confessed.

“I find it a good choice.” Charlotte said.

He looked at her, confused. “You hate Madeleine.”

“That I do.” She said, emphatic. “She’s a downright bitch. She should really get laid. But she loves you more than life itself. And she’s a seasoned politician. Between her and any other girl in Court, myself included, I’d chose her. Don’t drag anyone else to your misery, Leo.”

Without another word, he raised from the bed and left the room, marching in anger.

Tirkan, Cordonia, Fall 2015

“The party has arrived!” Maxwell announced from the door of the dive bar Riley chose for Drake’s birthday party.

Hana looked around. “Where?”

Drake scoffed. “It’s us, Hana. He means us.”

“Exactly, my good man. As in, we’re the life of the party.” Maxwell threw an arm around Drake, who glared profusely.

“We are?” Hana asks, confused.

“Well, some of us.” Maxwell looks accusingly to Drake.

The man just rolled his eyes and turned to Riley. “I can’t believe you actually talked me into this.”

“Well, I did, now shut up, stop complaining and let’s get some alcohol into your system.” She responded, pulling him over to the bar.

“I’ll buy the first round!” Liam, under a hat and sunglasses, offered, excitedly.

“Oh, no, no-one will be paying a dime. Any bartender with a heart would give him a free drink to start the night off.” She declared, boldly.

Drake, once again, rolled his eyes and used a stupid voice. “Free drinks are something that happens when you’re a woman, Riley. Even on my twenty-first birthday I didn’t get so much as a free drop from anyone.”

“Oh, no? Well, lemme see what I can do. Come on, Drake.” She pulled him once more. “Hey, bartender! My friend here is celebrating his birthday today. Can we get a drink on the house?”

The man measures her, mulls it over, and finally nods.

“It’s like everything I know is wrong.” Drake said, surprised.

Riley smiled smugly. “Told ya.”

He narrows his eyes at her. “Of course he’ll do it for you. No-one says no to a hot girl.”

She considered pointing out the bartender was doing it for him, ergo he should think Drake was hot, but there was a better way to beat the sour man into submission.

“So, you think I’m hot?” She smiled, defiant.

“I just meant…” He stuttered. “From his perspective… Anyway, stop holdin’ up the line. You’ve gotta tell the man what drink you’re ordering.”

She turned to the bartender. “We’ll have two piña coladas, please.”

Drake gaped. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Not only I would but I did dare. Call it retribution.” She smiled, wickedly.

“Way to ruin a perfectly good free drink on some monstrosity like this.” He lamented.

“You were just saying how the only way we got these was because of me, which makes them mine. Now drink the piña colada or get out of the way.” She commanded.

He grumbled and took the glass to his lips. A silence followed.

“Nothing bad to say, hon?” Riley teased.

“For an overly-sugared, completely silly, ridiculous excuse for a drink,” He had bad things to say, plenty of them. “This isn’t half bad.”

She smiled. “You like girlish drinks. How cute.”

Before he could respond, however, Hana came running after them. “There you are!”

“Prince Liam just paid the guy operating the mechanical bull.” Maxwell said, arriving just next to Hana. “He wants Drake to ride!”

“Me?” Drake said. “No way!”

“I figured you wouldn’t want to, but Liam says you’re some kind of expert.” Maxwell said.

Riley turned to Drake. “Is that true?”

“There’s only one way you’d get to find out, and I’m not drunk enough to make a fool of myself yet.” He gruffly said.

“Oh, no, sweetheart, you’re not escaping from that tonight!” She bellowed. “Come on, cowboy, you have a mechanical bull to ride tonight.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. So you keep telling me.”

“Drake! Drake! Drake!” Maxwell chanted, and was soon enough joined by the two girls. “Drake! Drake! Drake! Drake!”

“Okay!” He caved. “I’ll do it. Just… quiet down, you’re embarrassing me.”

“That’s kind of the whole point.” The younger man clarified, with Riley nodding.

Glaring at them, Drake slings a leg over the mechanical bull. “How do you start this thing?” He asked.

The operator, looking as blasé as it gets, just pressed a button and the bull begins to buck and twist. Drake easily swivels his hips and throws his hand back, keeping perfect balance.

“Not even a challenge.” He smugly commented. Not deterred, the operator makes the bull buck faster. “Okay, that’s a little harder…” The man said, going out of breath.

“Come on, birthday boy!” Riley screamed at him. “You can last longer than that!”

Shooting her a dirty look, Drake grips the bull tighter, even as it wildly bucks and pivots.

“Is that all you’ve got, bull?” He shouted, excitedly.

Just as he says that, however, the machine did a sudden turn which launched him sideways, making him tumble against Riley, standing on the sideways. The two of them end up tangled on the floor.

“Whoa! Sorry, Flowers.” He apologized and helped her stand.

“No trouble, I shouldn’t be standing here.” She dismissed.

As the band begins to play a new song Maxwell’s eyes light up. “We should hit the dance floor!” He said, excitedly.

Hana was a little insecure. “I don’t think you can waltz to this.”

It was playing Shania Twain, which Riley found to be most opportune, even if she hadn’t had a hand on it.

“Yeah, exactly the point.” Maxwell countered Hana. “I mean really dance. Like, the fun kind of dancing.”

“The fun kind?” The concept seemed foreign to her. “What would that entail?”

“I could tell you, but it’s going to be a lot more fun to show you.” He took her by the hand and headed to the dance floor, with the other three following closely behind.

Riley thought about pairing up with Liam, but Drake started scowling from the sidelines. The Prince, even in that excuse for a disguise of his, could find himself a pair easily enough, while Drake would bitch.

She, then, danced over to Drake. “I’m gonna getcha’ good!” She propositioned, using the song’s verse.

“I’m not really the kind of guy who dances.” He said, in a monotone.

“And I’m not the kind of girl who begs, so let’s get these hips moving.” She placed her hands in his waist, forcing it to go sideways, back and forward.

He took her hands off of him, scowling. “According to Maxwell, there’s a lot more to it than that.”

Checking the young man out, Riley noticed Maxwell was doing a very over performance of breakdance.

“That’s Maxwell for you.” Riley said, somewhat confused about the correlation between his movements and the tune.

Drake faced Riley. “I’m never going to be like Maxwell.”

As she observes, Maxwell shimmies over to a group of girls. “Ladies!”

Riley shook her head, disapprovingly. “Thank God for that. The world can only handle one Maxwell.”

Drake scoffed, approvingly.

“And, besides, I chose you to dance with me.” She took his arm.

“Why?” He asked. “Didn’t want to try to keep up with his acrobatics?”

“Drake, please. If me and him danced, the one biting the dust would be Maxwell.” She proclaimed, smugly. “I’m feeling more of a Drake vibe today, I guess.”

“Come on, Flowers.” He said, ironically. “It’s more like a lack of a vibe than anything else.”

“And so he admits!” She said, exasperated.

“Only on the dance floor, my one weakness.” He said.

She smiled faux-sweetly. “I thought I was your one weakness.”

He blushed. “I…”

“I mean, I’m the only one who doesn’t let you get away with anything, and I got you out here tonight, didn’t I?” She twirled her hair.

He grumbled. “As far as weaknesses go, you’re not the worse, Flowers.”

“Thanks, Drake.” And with that, she left him alone.

At the same time, Maxwell let go of Hana, who twirled dizzy to where Riley was standing. “Oh, hello, Riley.” The Asian placed her hands to her head, to keep her world from moving any further.

The black-haired took her hand. “Come on, Hana, just move to the music.”

“But I don’t know the steps!” The other argued.

“There are no steps!” Riley explained, smiling. “Just make some up and let the music guide you.”

“I don’t think I can do that.” She grumbled.

Riley pulled her over to the dancing area. “Start by relaxing. This is just for fun.”

“Right. Fun. I can have that.” She pepped herself up.

Placing a hand on her waist, Riley leads Hana through the motions, and the girl she shimmies and spins through the dance floor.

“Yeah!” Riley encouraged. “That’s it! You’re a natural.”

“Thanks, Riley!” She wrapped her arms around the white girl.

Before she could respond, Maxwell appeared next to them. “I have to say Drake told me what you said to him. Do you really think you can keep up with me?” He said, defiantly.

“Boy, you’re going down!” She took his hand and pulled him to the center of the dance floor.

Maxwell drops to the ground and does a series of breakdancing moves, ending in a pose with his legs straight in the air. Winking at Riley, he drops down and stands back up.

“Now let’s see what you’ve got.” He offered her a hand. Taking it, she spins herself into him and jump into his arms. Surprised, he said: “You’re lucky I caught you!”

“You always catch me, don’t you?” She winked.

He smiled. “Guilty as charged.”

She twirled away to a corner, where she found Liam. “Eh... What's up, doc?” She asks, smiling.

“Not much.” He answered, subtly surly. “You and Drake seems to be having fun.”

“As far as Drake is able to even have fun, I suppose he is.” She said, smirking. “While I am having a much-coveted reprieve from courtly life.”

“I’m happy you’re having a good time.” He said, dismissive.

Her lips thinned. “Well, you’re obligated to have it, too.” She took his hand and led him to the dance floor.

He complied. “Lady Riley.” He made a courteous bow.

“Nah-ah.” She twirled her finger. “Come on, no lady this-and-that. I’m Riley and you’re Liam, and we’re off the clock.”

He smiled, despite himself. “Of course.”

Riley sways against Liam, but soon enough he begins to blush. “Liam, what could you be possibly be thinking right now?” She asks, laughing.

He coughed, to hide his embarrassment. “Just how enjoyable is to have you so close.”

“Now that’s funny.” She said, wickedly. “I was thinking the exact same thing.”

Liam smiles widely as he places a hand on her waist, merrily holding her. “Even in a crowded country bar, it’s amazing how everyone else in the room seems to fade away when I look into your eyes.”

She smiles, and they twirl together over the dance floor.

A few hours later, as the night ends, the group starts to leave the bar. Hanging on the saloon, there was Drake, looking forlornly to the venue.

“Not ready for your birthday to be over yet?” Riley chirped from behind him.

“Maybe.” He said, thoughtful. He then sighed. “You know, to tell you the truth, I always dreaded my birthday when I was a kid. My parents tried hard, really hard, to give me the best birthday they could. But I always knew that no matter what they did, Prince Liam’s parents were going to top it.

“My parents got me a toy T-Rex? Liam’s parents got the entire palace staff to dress up like dinosaurs for his birthday. My parents got me a cake shaped like a car? Liam’s parents got him a cake the size of a car.”

She considered what Drake had said. It seemed to her that Liam and his parents were also, somewhat, jealous of Drake’s family’s moments. They imitated whatever Drake’s parents did the year before, they only did it grander, as in to assert their love for Liam after a year’s worth of neglect.

Riley, however, couldn’t tell him that. She, then, opted for a: “That must have been rough.”

“I mean, sure, it wasn’t easy, but I knew we were lucky to live at the palace and even be invited to Liam’s birthdays.” That part made her really sad. “So I didn’t really care about that stuff. Never saw these birthday parties as a competition.

“But they were Hell on my parents. They knew they could never come even close to what my best friend was getting, and that killed them. So around when I was nine or ten, I made a decision to stop trying. No more birthday parties, no more cakes, no more presents.

“All I wanted was to spend the day with my family doing something fun. My parents loved it. Made them feel like they could really give me something special.” He looked over at Riley, who wore googly eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m a total marshmallow. Just don’t tell anyone else.”

“What confuses me is, why did you come here today?” She asked. “I mean, didn’t you have this family tradition to uphold?”

He shrugged. “My family’s not here anymore, so I wasn’t really expecting to do anything tonight. Anyway, tonight has actually been… well, it’s really been fun. And if I’m being honest with myself, it’s felt a lot more like those special birthdays with my family than I thought it could.”

“Well, I’m glad these jokers could make you happy tonight.” She said, elbowing him.

“You won’t let that go, will you?” He said, somewhat ashamed.

“Nope.” She shook her head.

“Anyways, I’m glad you dragged me out.” He said, sincere. “We should call it a night.”

“We’re just waiting for you.” She motioned to the door. As she was leaving, however, she stopped on her tracks and turned back to hug Drake tightly. “We’re here for you, y’know?”

“Thanks.” He breathed out.

Vienna, Austria, Winter 2011

The last guests already left the Rosenberg residence, and the maids were cleaning off the glasses, plates and cutlery scattered throughout the Art-Déco apartment.

At margin of the busy work around them, Charlotte and Karen sat on the living room. The youngest nursed a glass of wine and played with the newly-planted diamond ring on her hand.

“When were you intending to tell me you tricked me?” Charlotte broke the silence.

Karen looked pointedly at her daughter. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t take me for a fool, mother!” She said, angry. “You sent me to Cordonia as a brideshowing, didn’t you?”

“It IS the purpose of the event, isn’t it? A Slavic brideshowing ritual.” Karen said, dismissively.

“God, mother, you are annoying. You know what I’m saying.” Charlotte was ruby-red. “You said I would be entering that contest as a power move, and you lied. You wanted to prove to the Torelli I was, what did you say? A proper lady, worthy of her title.”

Karen snickered. “Well, I’m an efficient woman. If the same movement can benefit me in several fronts, more the reason to act upon it.”

“Mother, you are… you are…” Charlotte tried to find the word.

“A bitch? A cunt? An evil mastermind? Yes, I am.” Karen stood up. “Now, be quiet and go to bed. Your father is asleep.”

Red Rose - Masterlist

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[emmerrr]

♖ andreil pls (bc as Charles Boyle would say "That's the most intimate thing you can do to a lover with your fingers")

listEN I lost it when I saw this in my askbox, charles is who I thought of immediately when I saw that prompt! I’m gonna combine it with some other prompts I hope that’s okay!

anonymous asked: i’m living for these prompts! i love your writing! everything is so soft and lovely 😊 😍❤️ if you have time can you do andreil and ♟?? it seems to suit them ;) [thank you so much :) ]

anonymous asked:♗ Andreil I love your writing!!! [thanks!]

anonymous asked:Andreil prompt; ♢: Forehead or cheek kisses

anonymous asked:hello, could i please have ♣ or ♚ with andreil? btw just wanted to tell you how much i love the fics you write. you’re a wonderful writer and i adore you <3 [thanks you’re the sweetest!]

♖: Having their hair washed by the other

♟: Patching up a wound

♗: One falling asleep with their head in the other’s lap.

♢: Forehead or cheek kisses

♣: Back scratches or ♚: Head scratches

SUPER COMBO. LET’S GO! <3 (also I know this is fulfilling prompts but it’s also the most self-indulgent thing I’m so sorry lmao) [read on ao3]

as of now, I only have one andreil prompt left to do but I think I’m probably gonna leave it a few weeks because I want to do something christmassy with it. bear with me, anon! also I wrote a renison prompt which you can find here if that’s your thing.

please don’t send me anymore! :)

*warnings for brief blood mention and a minor injury.*

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Neil said, looking up from the sports pages with a frown. There was an article in there about Kevin that Neil wanted to cut out and frame just to annoy Andrew.

The man himself was leaning against the kitchen counter, a bread-roll in his hand that he was slicing with a sharp knife, the blade inching ever closer to Andrew’s palm.

“Do what,” Andrew asked with absolutely no inflection.

“That,” Neil said. Andrew knew full-well what he was talking about; it had been brought up many times before. “One of these days you’re going to cut your hand, and I won’t feel sorry for you.”

The look Andrew shot Neil was dripping with derision. “I do this nearly every day and it hasn’t happened yet.”

“It only takes once.”

Andrew rolled his eyes but made no further reply, and Neil returned his attention to the paper, Kevin’s triumphant game-winning grin staring back at him. The season had just drawn to a close, Kevin’s team narrowly beating out Matt’s in the final. Neil and Andrew’s team had lost to Kevin’s in the semi-final; it still stung, but Neil was proud anyway, of himself and Andrew and the rest of their team. He was even prouder of Kevin.

For now though, he was just looking forward to an extended break. He’d been quietly pleased when Andrew had joined him for a run this morning, and now back, he was planning on hopping in the shower as soon as he’d finished with the paper. Maybe he’d be able to convince Andrew to join him there, too.

“Neil.”

“Hm?”

“You can say ‘I told you so’ if you want.”

“What?” Neil looked up and Andrew was holding his hand over the sink, dripping blood. “Oh fuck, Andrew.”

Neil was out of his chair in an instant and over to the sink. He took Andrew’s wrist and gently turned it over so he could see the wound. Across Andrew’s palm was a thin line; not deep, but still bleeding.

“Is it deep?” Andrew asked. He wasn’t looking at his injured hand but the slight furrow on his brow indicated that it was causing him some discomfort. “I’m not going to the hospital. If it needs stitches, you can do it.”

“It’s not that bad,” Neil said. He turned the tap on and rinsed Andrew’s hand underneath, then grabbed some kitchen paper and stuffed it onto the cut until he could hunt down their well-stocked first-aid kit. “You won’t need stitches.”

He pulled Andrew over to the kitchen table and sat him down, then took Andrew’s other hand and pressed it against the paper towels. “Hold those there, I’ll be right back.”

It took Neil a couple of minutes to track down the first-aid kit in the bathroom. It got more use than he’d like, thanks to the rough nature of their jobs, not to mention Neil was a little accident-prone.

Back in the kitchen, he sat down opposite Andrew and dug through the kit, pulling out disinfectant and bandages. He held his hand out expectantly, and Andrew dropped his injured one straight into it.

Neil carefully pulled away the paper towels and put them aside. “This might sting a little,” he said, and set about cleaning the wound with disinfectant.

Andrew sat through the whole thing in stoic silence, not even a wince as Neil cleaned him up then carefully set about wrapping a bandage around his hand. It wasn’t until Neil was finishing up and taping the bandage in place that Andrew finally spoke up.

“Just fucking say it, Neil.”

“I’m not going to say ‘I told you so’,” Neil said with a sigh. He pressed down on the tape and inspected his handiwork. Satisfied, he got up and packed the first-aid kit away, aware of Andrew watching him the entire time. He smiled, then leaned down and kissed Andrew’s forehead. “I did fucking tell you, though.”

“There it is.”

As it happened, Andrew did end up in the shower with Neil, albeit more out of necessity than anything else. They had to bag his hand so the bandage didn’t get wet, and showering one-handed wasn’t exactly the easiest of tasks.

Neil hurriedly washed his own hair then turned his attention to Andrew. The second his fingers were in Andrew’s hair, hazel eyes slid shut.

“I remember,” Neil said thoughtfully as he lathered up Andrew’s blond hair, “when you had to do this for me.”

Andrew’s eyes flickered back open. “Well, if we’re taking a trip down memory lane, that’s not the only thing I did for you.”

Only Andrew could reference a blow job with such a disinterested expression, and Neil snorted a laugh. “I could do that too. If you want.”

Andrew hummed, considering. “Maybe later. Tired.”

“Okay,” Neil said fondly, before gently guiding Andrew’s head under the spray to rinse him off. “Now. Do you want the conditioner that smells like mangoes or the one that smells like vanilla?”

Andrew eyed the mango one with great distaste. “Vanilla. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Neil repeated, smiling as he squeezed some out into his hand. He worked it into Andrew’s hair. “So. What do you wanna do for the rest of the day.”

Andrew shrugged. “Nap first. I don’t care what we do later.”

“What do you need a nap for?”

Andrew glanced up at Neil. “Someone got me out of bed ridiculously early to go for a run.”

“Hey,” Neil chided. “You got up of your own accord. It’s not my fault you couldn’t bear to be without me for an hour.”

Andrew’s eyes flashed, but he didn’t deny it.

Neil grinned. With Andrew, it was so often in what he didn’t say, and Neil took these victories where he could.

Once out of the shower and dressed, Neil went to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee and clean up the mess Andrew had made when he cut his hand.

When it was tidy, Neil leaned back against the counter and waited for the coffee machine to beep. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked his messages. There were three unread; one from Matt, one from Nicky, one from Allison. He replied to Matt’s and Allison’s, but Andrew was going to call Nicky later anyway, so Neil could talk to him then.

He poured out two mugs of coffee and made his way over to the living room, but he paused in the doorway and watched for a moment because Andrew seemed to be having some sort of muted stand-off with the cats.

Andrew was sitting on the far seat of the sofa, glaring down at Sir and King who had spread themselves over the rest of it. They were clearly getting in the way of Andrew’s napping idea.

Neil cleared his throat lightly and Andrew looked up. “Come and move your useless fur-babies.”

“You move them,” Neil said, entering the room at last. “Just pick them up and put them on the floor.” He put the mugs on the coffee table.

“If I pick them up, they win,” Andrew said stubbornly. “Also, I’m injured.” He illustrated this by holding up his bandaged hand.

Neil looked at Andrew. Andrew looked back.

“You,” Neil said, “are a ridiculous human being.” He hoisted up a cat under each arm and deposited them on the floor, then sat down and reached for his coffee. As soon as he was sitting back, Andrew spread himself along the sofa, resting his head in Neil’s lap.

“This is a preemptive measure,” he explained tiredly. “So the cats don’t jump back up here.”

Neil took a sip of coffee and laughed lightly. “You know that won’t stop them, right?”

As if they were listening, both cats jumped up within seconds of each other. Sir settled down behind Andrew’s knees, King in front of his chest. Andrew huffed a very put upon sigh, but magnanimously refrained from shoving them off.

“Look at that,” Neil said. “Progress.”

“Shut. Up.”

Neil laughed again and leaned back a little more. He carefully lifted his feet and rested them on the coffee table, earning him a tiny annoyed grunt when he jostled Andrew’s head.

“Alright, alright,” he said, and settled his free hand in Andrew’s hair. “I was just getting comfy.” He scratched lightly at Andrew’s head and then stilled his hand.

A couple of seconds ticked by, then Andrew grunted again.

“What?” Neil asked.

Another grunt, this time punctuated by Andrew pushing his head into Neil’s hand just a little, until he got the message and started scratching again.

“You can use your words, y’know,” Neil said, but he couldn’t honestly say he minded having Andrew warm and comfortable and safe under his hands.

Andrew didn’t respond because he was also incredibly difficult, a trait that was often infuriating but occasionally endearing. Such as now.

By the time Neil had drained his coffee, Andrew’s breathing had gone suspiciously deep and even.

“Andrew,” Neil whispered. “Your coffee’s gonna go cold.”

But Andrew was most definitely asleep, and most definitely did not currently care about his coffee.

It was fine. Neil would make him more when he woke up.

Moving with painstaking slowness so as to minimise jostling Andrew, Neil put his mug back on the table. Then he leaned back, closed his eyes, and let the sounds of his cats obnoxious purring and Andrew’s soft breathing lull him to sleep.

He was home.

[thatonehiddenbladeingibraltar]

Hey loved those gaming hcs where the heroes got to watch and mess around with their S/O's favorite game! Can I get hcs for the same prompt but with Hanzo, McCree, Sombra and Widowmaker?

The hcs mentioned in the request are right here

Like last time, feel free to guess which game I’m referring to (either through the askbox or by PM)

Hanzo Shimada:

At first he has absolutely no idea what was happening

“What is going on right now?” “You’ll see, Hanzo.”

But as the game progresses, he finds himself becoming completely immersed in the gameplay and the lore

Absolutely loves seeing you use the protagonist’s powers, but is curious as to how they originally manifested

Hanzo’s dragons do pop out and curl up around your feet as you begin to progress through the story

Seeing you play and gush about your favorite game does remind him of a few moments in his childhood when Genji used to do the exact same

It doesn’t give Hanzo any grief, but it does give him a bit of nostalgia

He doesn’t ask if he could play around with the game, opting instead to let you sit in his lap or in between his legs while he spectates

If he senses that your frustration levels are getting too high, he’ll coax you to take a break or go to bed if it’s late at night

Hanzo is intrigued by the in-game choices you’re offered and chuckles when he realizes what either choice meant

You do make a remark about the similarities between the Shimadas and their dragons with the protagonist and their own powers

“Imagine if the Conduits saw your family’s dragons. Wonder how that would go down.” “Either in blood or mutual distrust, my cherry blossom.”

Jesse McCree:

You have to force yourself to sit on Jesse’s lap and have his arms wrapped around your abdomen just to keep him interested in the game you’re playing

He’s a little confused as to why they were so many characters running around and punching each other or blasting each other’s face off with guns that appeared out of nowhere

When the screen cuts to a cargo plane after a minute of watching everyone punch each other however, McCree was definitely intrigued

You explained how the game worked and that you were actually going up against real life players as you raided empty buildings and began picking up various guns and gear

He isn’t a big fan of the shotguns in-game and never fails to remind you of that

“Careful with the S12K, darlin’. You’re gonna have to ditch it when it’s down to the last few people.” “…Thanks for the reminder.”

When Jesse sees a revolver lying on the ground in one of the buildings you were looting, he insists on you using it despite your protests about its lackluster stats

Does help to try and keep an eye out for you when you think you’re being followed

As soon as you hitch a ride in a vehicle, McCree presses the button to honk the car horn as you’re driving

Be prepared to lower your volume down for the obnoxious honking

The two of you actually jolt forward when you manage to headshot someone with a sniper rifle

He does remind you to stay within the designated play zone so you didn’t get killed after being outside of it for too long

Sometimes the two of you will switch, but McCree normally lets you play the game

You actually suggest that he should play alongside you but he only chuckles and kisses your neck only to not give you a definitive answer

If he did though, who else was going to be your personal cheerleader and give you advice?

Sombra:

When she initially sees you playing your favorite game of all time, she’s a little confused

All you appeared to be doing was moving left and right, turning lights on and off, closing industrial-like doors, and flicking through a crappy CCTV system while a clock was read 2 am

However, Sombra was shocked to see a purple bunny animatronic pop up on screen and an inhuman sound emit from the speakers as you nearly fell on your back

You quickly explain the gist of the game and what you were doing even though it takes Sombra a bit of time to get used to it, but when she does, she definitely wants to play it herself

“Why can’t you just hack the animals to stop them from moving?” “Not everyone has cybernetic upgrades, Sombra.”

If you can’t get to the end of a level and your frustration was slowly reaching its limit, Sombra will take over for you while you take a small break until the two of you switch

She does notice odd newspaper clippings appearing on some of the walls when she’s looking at all of the rooms

You do tell her that they’re little lore bits to the game when Sombra asks about it and she makes a mental note to go check it out later

The two of you actually cheer when you complete all of the levels

The euphoria literally died down when Sombra saw the ‘6th night’ label under the Continue button on the main menu

And when you told her there were four more games in the series

Well guess who just found something to do during date nights?

Widowmaker/Amélie Lacroix:

At first, Widow isn’t all too impressed with the game, only brushing it off as another ‘digital imitation of the real world of assassination.’

When she sees that one of the in-game missions took place at a French modeling show however, Amélie was intrigued

She nods at some of the outfits that the NPCs were modeling but winces at some of them

As soon as she sees an assassination opportunity for you to take out one of your targets, Amélie insists that you go forward on that route

“It will be fun, ma chérie. How often do you get the chance to assassinate your target as a model?”

She will make you go back and restart the level if you blow your cover

But when you’ve killed all of the designated targets, Widow lets you escape however you want

When you tell her how old the protagonist, she does look genuinely stunned

Widow doesn’t play the game herself, but she does make snarky remarks at some of the in-game dialogue

Even though you know that she’ll never admit it, you were absolutely sure that Amélie was enjoying watching you play your favorite game

Especially when you tell her about Elusive Target missions

Be prepared to have her breathing down your neck about timing and having the perfect plan

@elise-the-assassin @sylvennia @videogamesanddragons @jeveuxxvivre @buckingforbucky

[icharchivist]

first: WAHHHHHHHHH 😭😭😭 I got so emotional!!! so emotional!!!! so much that I can’t even do this first second pattern bc I have SO MANY thoughts!!!!!!! I’m writing this in my notes instead of straight into the askbox so u know it’s serious business™

ok so debut night!!! I was like ahah yeah it’s a tragedy whatever it’ll be fun to start out with and then the voice acting was SO good that it knocked me out of the park and I almost cried haha. it’s crazy how good the voice acting in a3 is like I love how the dialogue and voice acting works well together bc like it’s limited but so effective!! u can so very clearly see and understand the style they’re going for. especially like tsumugi’s death scene... the Talent jumped out it really did... uh and ok so. I think I may be a littleeee confused abt the play bc I had always interpreted tasukus last lines as raphael to be like abt his being secretly in love with michael. but now that I’m actually reading the line that’s like oh don’t fall for a human it only ends in misery I know that all too well or whatever... ig the implication is that raphael was in love with another human / the same lady michael was in love with in the play. side note I had to go back and edit the proper names in instead of tasuku and tsumugi lol... but speaking of!! speaking of the voice acting and the play itself I 1) love how blatantly obvious it is when tsumugi goes for that grander, tasuku like style of delivery!! like u could just so easily feel the difference it was wild... and 2) tsuzuru is once again spot on with his writing, lol... I felt that like raphaels inability to save or help michael really parallels how tasuku feels abt tsumugi so well, and it’s wonderful that they r able to resolve things and tasuku can properly compliment him on his acting where the angels fail to do so. it’s very good. and I think the play rly highlights (for me at least) that like. to tasuku, it was tsumugi who was sort of an unreachable existence. like were he to idolize and respect someone’s acting, it would be tsumugi. and I think that like caring carries over into their roles really well, because I think in michael’s love for a human tasuku sees like... tsumugi’s style of acting. the heart that he’d lost while within the god troupe. mb I’m losing my mind a little but ah. the play rly works with their relationship so well!! im very excited to see the other winter ppl get main roles tho—same for all the troupes!!! now this ask is too long so I’ll have to do another part lol

going to start off this second part of the ask abt hisoka bc oh my GOD. hisoka. like I was just thinking “hm where r the winter troupe cgs anyways” and then BAM. hisoka CRYING???? especially since he doesn’t seem that emotional it was a really hard hit!!! and who tf is august.... ok well actually theory time!! skipping ahead to the end theres that note that like mentions December and April and. not to expose my friend but very many years ago (a couple years before a3 was launched, at the very least) she wrote this story where there were like 12 orphan assassins and they were all named after months. I remember the main dude was named dec lol. coupled with my “hisoka is capable of murder” bit? listen.... I’m not saying anything but I’m also not not saying anything if u feel me. also I feel like assassin / thief with mysterious background is a common trope!! that was silver from the pokémon adventures manga too... why is this my reference point lmao. anyways I’m unclear if assassins would make it into a3 but like.... if the yakuza and supernatural stuff makes it in...

okay moving away from conspiracy theories and into emotions!!! the quotes from like EVERY mankai actor before the final production made me SO emo... and yay!!! they won!!!! (though admittedly I almost had a heart attack when no one clapped) but they won!!!! that ending cg!!!! and I adore how sakyo immediately goes after god troupe man (I know his name is reni I just don’t feel like calling him that) for the money lol it’s just so sakyo-like. also I love the lil mixed troupe interactions!! I found the game night ch so fun.... ahh, now I wanna reread that ch since it was so good lol

all in all I was super satisfied ahh!! I am SO excited to start up spring troupe again (HELLO character development!!! and chikage) and I’m even MORE excited to get thru all the act 1 events!!!! as a final note, is there any way to reread or replay the flair conversations? I didn’t want any spoilers for the plays while I was doing the practices for them so I kinda sped thru the first time ahah...

HELLO FRIEND IM SO HAPPY TO GET SUCH A LENGHTY ASK ABOUT WINTER IM LKDJFLKDJFLKFD  Winter makes me feel shrimps emotions (i know the whole “shrimps can see more colors than humans can’t comprehend” thing has been disproved but i’m not letting go of that expression, i REALLY feel emotions humans can’t comprehend anymore and i’m going to make it everyone else’s problem)

1) First about the voice acting, rIGHT this is just so fascinating to me!!! I remember after act 2 i came back to reread the main act 1 chapter and i was so thrown out by how GOOD the voice acting was, especially for the first few troupes having to convince you they’re not comfortable or good at acting yet. Winter whole thing is that they’re more subtle and mature and you really feel that with their voice acting, Tsumugi’s voice especially knock it off the park anytime he’s on screen. 

2) Second: what does it say about me that i’ve never, ever considered your reading a possibility because i was so set on “oh Raphael you’re in love with Michael sooooo bad you see it as a tragedy already because you can see him throw his life away” i didn’t even consider “maybe Raphael went through that too”. Though i guess if we’re going with that reading i can totally see “The Woman” they let themselves consumed by easily be a representation of acting or even more the God Troupe, with Raphael/Tasuku knowing to step away before it consumes him completely while Michael/Tsumugi, by his love and passion, pushed himself until he broke, which fits and it hurtsssss god Winter plays hits so hard.

3) Third: oh god yeah when Tsumugi goes for Tasuku’s acting it’s just. It makes me SO uncomfortable, i’ve experienced this scene like three times by now and the third time i was just “can i skip it i can’t go through this again i can’t Tsumugi i love you i can’t do this”. It doesn’t match the play at all and it just throws everyone off balance, and Tsumu you could have told theM YOU WANTED TO DO THAT.... god

4) Fourth: I LOVE YOUR READING SO MUCH I LOVE IT I LOVE IT YES YOU’RE RIGHT!!! Just as we follow Tsumugi let his passion consumes him until he breaks, Tasuku’s character arc really jumps out in Raphael, like, everything you say!!!  The way Tasuku/Raphael knew how the feelings Tsumugi/Michael felt would hurt him on the long run but he didn’t know what to do about it until it was too late, the regrets and the way Raphael voices his frustrations.... Tasuku struggles to be honest without acting (Tasuku pls i love you) but having such a role really help him expressing all he feels about Tsumugi and i’m HHHH this is so good so so good!!! but yeah i also love that Tasuku finally manages to actually compliment Tsumugi naturally, that he understands he can’t let him destroys himself again and it’s just gnhhhhh Tasuku is so kind and considerate and i care about him so much....!!!

5) Fifth: “i’m losing my mind a little” winter mood, winter mood winter mood- (though every troupe’s mood tbh but Winter is gnhhhhh kdhd hdhjf??? you feel me) (i am BIASED i can’t help it TwT) but yeaH i’m looking forward to see how you react to the others plays because the roller coaster juST BEGUN!!!

Onto part 2... Winter Troupe Chapter Feels... 2!

6) Sixth: DLFJDFKLDF HISOKAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE HIM SO MUCHHHHH. Hisoka crying fucked me up so bad!! so so bad!! Like on my first read i didn’t know what to think of him as he starts out very apathic to his troupe and then the more it goes on the more you can feel he starts to open up and i’m soft for this sort of slow burn, but then this whole scene happened and it HIT ME IN THE FACE, he was crying, i was crying, we were all crying, the Unopening Door opened a flood of emotions i can’t cope with. He sounds SO VULNERABLE during that scene and i know all of the Winter Troupe united on “taking care of him” but that’s really the moment i went “i care you and i will keep taking care of you” and look at me now. Thanks funky little scene for ruining my life. I’m glad you liked it i’m aldhjflkjdfkd Hisokaaaaa.....

7) Seventh: I am not commenting on the theory but 👀 that’s so highly specific your friend has a galaxy brain i love it. and i love the idea of “well we have yakuza and supernatural entity what’s an assassin adding himself to it” dLKFJDLKF i know everyone in Mankai calls Izumi out everytime someone joins but that’d be peak. I’m not going further about what December and August and April are all about but i love this plotline sO much, the few mentions of August when Hisoka regained his memories for a minute still haunts me, the guilt he seems to feel and this pain i’m just... godddd such a good set up. I love this plotline.

8) Eigth: EMOTIONS!!  Oh GOD YEAH THE ENDING WITH ALL THE OTHER ACTORS... I cried so hard it’s just. It really shows you it’s not just the culmination of the Winter chapter but of all the act 1 main plot and it really makes you feel how much of a journey you’ve been onto!! A3 is so good at showing you the growth of its characters that especially by the end of Winter you really saw how all of them grew in their respective chapters and how cozy they felt in their new home in the remaining chapters, and the fact this chap has those defining character arc’s lines really drive home “oh my god that was a journey” i love them sO MUCH.... 

9) Ninth: wE WOOOON!!! They’re all so good i just. i’m gonna cry just thinking about it dlfdjlfk i know like, the game has so many content so you know it can’t end at the end of Winter but the suspense really was there. BUT YEAH LMAO I LOVE SAKYO DOING THAT IMMEDIATLY, man sure has the eyes on the prize and we love him for that.  AND THE GAME NIGHT SCENE they are all sO CUTE and sWEET and they’re a family now and i’m hHHHHH i love a3 a normal healthy amount that isn’t just making me cry thinking about how all of them grew so close even through mixed troupes.

10) Tenth: I am SO happy you were satisfied with the plot so far!! I’m genuinely so happy that you decided to take that journey with us and that you shared all of this with me, and i’m so so happy you liked it!! There is still so much content and all of it is so worth it! 

11) Eleventh: Yes!! The flair conversations are all readable on the Mini-Chat tab! So they’re easily accessible and they’re sorted in a way that’s easy to read so you can feel comfortable skipping the flairs if you want until you have seen the stories the flairs are all about. They’re all kinda set during the rehearsals (except for some crosstroupe conversation that wouldn’t make sense if they were like how the Summer Troupe talks with the Spring Troupe in their Flairs DKLFJDF but it’s okay what is a timeline anyway) so some of them are set pre-development and it’s wild to get back to them. I love rereading Flairs i get emotional everytime.

ANND That’s it for this ask! i had a blast reading through your thoughts and i’m so happy and excited!! i’ll send you the drive now so you can start digging through it whenever you feel like it :3c good luck grinding for act 2, meanwhile i hope you’ll have fun with all the act 1 events i compiled for you!!

(side note i need to update the drive too but it’s mostly act 2 content anyway, the only two act 1 things i need to update on it is Sakuya’s birthday card i think?? i think Itaru’s is already in act 2 so i’ll try to get around to it eventually but it’s so far away anyway) (edit: i forgot that the three cards i got for the latest revival are from act 1 DLKJFD okay so i’m missing three cards -)

The drive has backstages and event stories and it may be a lot and overwhelming ahah. Focus on the event stories for the plot and go back to the backstages whenever you feel like it, no need to read them at the same time, unless you want to in which case everything is set up for you :3c and there’s a file with cards that aren’t associated to events too so... lots of goodies hanging around. I’ll send it to you in DM ;O 

Take care and thank you so much for all your thoughts! my inbox remains wide opened for any others thoughts you may have as you go further into it :3c