#and so much of diana's life and relationship with like “adults” are people making choices for her or pushing her in a particular direction.

[sheswoven]

i have major bones to pick with every 'parental' figure in diana's life . the smallest bone , though , goes to ysabeau .

[majaloveschris]

It's interesting to see how angry people got just because I said that those pictures don't prove anything to me. I don't think that me ever expressing my opinion about anything—the wedding, for example—caused this many hateful asks. // Because people are tired of the presence of those in the fandom, who insist on continuing to spin webs of increasingly conspiracy-like fantasies to create false hope and explain away the basic reality: that Chris married a woman who lot's of fans don't like and that whatever seems "weird/off/out of character" and "doesn't make sense", has other simple explanations than the false interpretations and conclusions you (and others who ate up the lies about pr relationships/stunts that got spread in various fandoms) came to. Starting with the simple fact that nobody here knows the real Chris. Or the fact that love can turn people into hypocrites. Or that a certain amount of pr is present in most real celeb relationships.

That doesn't mean people can say and talk to people however they want. "Being tired of someone" doesn't make anybody entitled to leave hateful and disgusting asks.

And sorry, but me thinking this is PR makes me unwanted in the fandom? Just because I think this isn't something real? So I can't be Chris's fan because I don't think they are together, and even if I were, I wouldn't see that big, happy love? I agree that there are a lot of people who take things too far, and I don't understand why they are here when they hate him so much. But until people are capable of expressing their opinion in a respectful way, I don't see a problem with being here. Or do you really think that if this whole thing is not PR, he or his team will come here and read what we say? Do you really think that if this is not PR, they care what I or anybody else says or thinks about the nature of their relationship? Especially when I, for example, always try to remain respectful towards everybody. Every anon and every participant in this whole thing. I talk about choices and actions, never about looks and appearances.

If you are tired of someone, you can unfollow or block them. I have my opinion; I don't create false hope since most of us here are adults, and we can decide where we are standing and what we are believing. I have my opinion; I talk about it, but I've never stated I knew something, so I can't create false hopes.

Opinions aren't conspiracy theories. Me saying that I think they are PR isn't one. Those theories are usually about something much more important and widely known, like that the moon landing was faked or Diana's death wasn't an accident. Two actors being in a PR relationship isn't one.

PR relationships have always been a thing in HW. It's not a myth; it's not something that is uncommon in Hollywood. Yeah, not every relationship is PR; nobody said that, but there are PR ones out there.

Nobody said we know Chris, and yeah, while PR might be involved in every celebrity relationship, this is not the normal amount. He never needed to post video dumps or have hundreds of articles about his love life. Yeah, we could say it is because she is the one and he is crazy for her, but I don't see that in their body language or faces. My opinion.

[incorrectlumityquotes]

Why Amity fell for Luz: A Theory

Watching all the episodes of The Owl House and reviewing them brought back a lot of thoughts and feelings that I maybe forgot about. We all ship things and sometimes we do it for fun; sometimes for deeper reasons. I just started lumity because it reminded me of Diana & Akko from Little Witch Academia. I loved that show so much that I wanted more, and I thought it would be cool if Luz & Amity did something similar. I had no idea that it was going to go beyond that, so DAMN. To quote a talking science wolf, “For years we ask how, but we should ask why.” I mean, we saw how. But why? Well I can take a guess.

If we’re are going to start anywhere it’s going to be with the girl in question, Amity Blight.

As far as I know as of this typing, Amity Blight is a witchling from The Boiling Isles. She lives in Bonesboro at The Blight Manor estate with her parents and her siblings. She attends Hexside School of Magic and Demonics. Good for her.

Amity has an ambitious and competitive personality. She’s always striving to be better and be at the top of whatever she is doing. When she’s introduced in I Was a Teenage Abomination, she’s showing having great pride in being the top student in her abomination class. In Adventures in the Elements, she goes to The Knee in hopes of training to beat her siblings’ high score on the placement exam.

Amity also has a bit of a temper and gets annoyed easily. In I Was a Teenage Abomination, she sics her abominations on Willow and Luz just because she wasn’t named top student that day. In Enchanting Grom Fright, Amity snapped at the person she bumped into before realizing it was Luz. And later in the same episode, Amity beat up Hooty when he decided to get too close.

But she does have a soft sensitive side. She keeps a diary in her secret room in the library and even reads to kids in her free time. Amity also has a strong sense of integrity. She despises cheating (and cheaters) and feels guilt when she’s forced to break ties with Willow.

So why did someone like this fall for Luz of all people? (see above image)

Enter what I call my Shipping Theory of Compliments

The Shipping Theory of Compliments is that two characters would be shipped and sometimes canonically enter a romantic relationship based on their personalities complimenting each other and fulfilling elements they don’t have alone necessary to developing the character.

People like to use the image of a missing puzzle piece, but I don’t like that comparison because I think it’s a little inaccurate and I don’t like puzzles. Think of it more like the two pieces of the yin and yang coming together and then growing the circles of the opposite colors in them.

Something like that.

And it’s compliments, not opposites. When you think compliments, think more Star and Marco from Star vs the Forces of Evil. Star wants to go on a magical adventure. Marco also wants to go on a magic adventure. The difference is that Star goes in recklessly while Marco wants to plan it out a bit. They still have their adventure as oppose to Star’s opposite who wouldn’t want to go on a magical adventure. That sort of thing.

So how do Luz and Amity compliment each other?

Let’s start with that they have in common. Obvious stuff aside, they’re both training to become the best witches they can be. The difference comes that Luz is a human who has to learn magic via glyphs that she finds and Amity learns magic the “proper” way on The Boiling Isles. 

Luz and Amity are also both fans of The Good Witch Azura book series. Difference is that Luz is more open about her fandom while Amity tries to keep it a secret. Also petty thing but they’re both fan artists too, but I think Luz might be a better than Amity. But hey, her crosshatching is improving.

Luz and Amity are also (at the start of the series) both lonely people. Luz’s mom says that she doesn’t have any friends, and Amity doesn’t like her “friends.” The difference is that Luz reaches outward to ease her loneliness (being social and friendly, trying new things, etc.) while Amity reaches inward (keeping a diary, staying busy, having a secret spot, etc.). They both also use escapist fiction to ease their loneliness.

That’s all well and good, but now we get into the real speculative parts. 

...complimenting each other and fulfilling elements they don’t have alone necessary to developing the character.

When I was taking acting classes I was taught that the way you see people act is a persona based on their experiences on what it takes to survive and avoid physical, emotional and social death. So now we have to speculate based on what we were given on what emotional/social needs and wants has Amity not been getting before that she has with Luz.

First let me point you to another show called F is for Family. F is for Family is an adult animated sitcom on Netflix that follows a very dysfunctional family in the 1970s. These are legitimately bad characters, not in terms of being poorly written. What I’m saying is that these guys are assholes. But here’s where it gets interesting.

One of the characters is Kevin Murphy, the teenage son of the family. He’s a dim-witted wannabe rockstar who is always yelled at and put down by his parents throughout the entire series. However in season four Kevin meets Alice. Alice teaches Kevin that his favorite band is a big reference to Tolkien and gives him a copy of The Hobbit. They bond over their love of Lord of the Rings and get along really well. Alice calls him smart for being able to read all of Lord of the Rings over a few days and never puts him down. Even in the one time they did fight she never yelled at him or raised her voice which he found weird because he’s so used to being yelled at. Alice gave Kevin the emotional support he always wanted but never got from his family.

Using that as a backdrop, let’s go back to Amity.

Amity grew up with her parents making her do things she didn’t want to do, making choices for her. Amity wanted to be one way. Her parents wanted something else. Amity’s mother even dyes Amity’s hair green so it matches her siblings. Amity wanted to be friends with Willow. Amity’s parents wanted her to be friends with the mean kids. While Amity does work hard to be the best at what she’s doing, her parents also put pressure on her to make sure that she is at that level. 

Her siblings are another bag of awful. They constantly refer to her by an annoying nickname that I’m guessing has an embarrassing moment attached to it. They seem to live by a double standard that Amity despises. She has to work hard and follow the rules just to be accepted while they are naturally talented and break the rules with everyone still thinking that they’re perfect. 

Family is supposed to provide unconditional love except it looks like the love of the Blights is based on conditions. Nobody just likes Amity for who she is. She doesn’t have a friend.

Enter: the friendliest person she’s ever met

Amity has to struggle and work for the simplest things, even affection. Except when it comes to Luz. Luz is naturally friendly and positive. Amity doesn’t have to earn her kindness. Even when she’s bullied Luz before, Luz is always coming back with a smile. I suppose when you live life surrounded by jerks, you’ll want to hang out with the one person who’s always nice to you. Sort of.

Yes, Amity did think Luz was a bully for constantly getting her into trouble. But even at Covention and Lost in Language, Luz kept reaching out to her. This combined with Amity’s awareness of her own behavior is what convinced her to try to reach out in kind to Luz by the end of Lost in Language. “She’s trying to be nice to me, so I should try too,” I’m guessing is the mindset especially in Adventures in the Elements. And then...Luz continued to be nice to her which is kind of a big deal for Amity.

Let’s tally up what we have so far:

Luz and Amity have similar interests (The Good Witch Azura series, art, fiction, learning magic)

Luz and Amity have similar values (work ethic, disdain for cheating, protecting those closest to you, etc.)

Luz gives Amity the positivity and affection that Amity doesn’t normally get anywhere else

They still have differing personalities with Amity being more competitive and Luz having more of a live-and-let-live attitude.

Even with all these things in mind, why was Amity so scared to ask Luz to Grom?

Speculating again but my theory is that Amity wasn’t sure if Luz actually liked her or if Luz is just friendly because that’s how Luz is. Amity was scared of being rejected because she felt that maybe she was just reading the situation wrong. Luz is this ray of sunshine in her gray skies (if you’ll forgive the cliché). People like Amity always think of all the worst possibilities (I know because I do this too). Amity was probably thinking a bunch of what ifs. “What if Luz doesn’t actually like me? What if she’s just being friendly because she feels sorry for me? What if she has feelings for someone else? What if she never actually liked me? What if she’s straight?”

Luz is Amity’s first crush and it is scary as all hell to put yourself out there like that for the first time. She wasn’t expecting to get married at Grom night. She just wanted to dance with the girl she liked.

The dance at Grom was like confirmation for her that it could happen. Amity didn’t have to ask out Luz because Luz asked her. Being with Luz isn’t a pipedream. It’s a definite possibility. And we all know how she reacted to that idea.

Uh...she’ll be in her bunk.

While Luz and Amity aren’t together as of this typing, I believe it’s bound to happen. Until then, after The Lumity Trilogy, Amity knows that Luz is the girl she likes. 

tl;dr version

Amity fell for Luz because they have similar interests and values, their personalities differ in a compatible way and Luz provides Amity emotional needs and wants that she doesn’t get anywhere else.

Also, round eared girl pretty.

.

Thanks everyone for reading.

[starfanatic]

Me analyzing every scene with Charles and Erik in First Class.

Charles and Erik's experiences

Now in the beginning of the movie, Charles and Erik don't have a scene together but it compares their lives, side by side, and in a way explains why they are so different from one another.

Even as kids there is some clear differences:

The first mutant Erik ever met was Shaw. A nazi who murdered the only person who loved him. Then Shaw experimented and tortured him until Erik inevitably broke out. Shaw made Erik believes his power can only be unlocked through pain and anger. The first mutant Charles ever met is Raven. Raven and Charles became close, basically becoming siblings. Charles was never alone, he had Raven and vice versa.

At such a young age, Charles knew how to use his power efficiently, without needing to be angry to do it. Erik however only could do it (at that age when he's in extremely stressful situations).

Now as adults there is still big differences:

When we first meet Charles he's at a bar, flirting with a woman. It's clear he's very intelligent and talks about mutations. Then in the next scene, hes celebrating after his graduation. This is a good time in Charles' life. Erik however is still plotting revenge against Shaw, hurting people for information or straight up murdering them.

Something I noticed is that Charles seem to have a lot of positive interactions with humans, like Moira for example while Erik seems to only have negative interactions with them.

Erik’s power is naturally more destructive then Charles. Charles can communicate with people and understand their emotions and feelings. Erik destroys the environment around him, to do whatever he’s going to do.

Drowning Scene

Let's talk about Erik's mental state in this scene. He is pumped with adrenaline and anger. The man who made his life a living hell is escaping and he needs to stop and make him pay for what he has done. So he desperately tries to bring the submarine back, and he was going to do it or die trying. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for Erik, who has been wanting revenge against Shaw since the day he killed his mother. Its symbolic, because in a way he's drowning in his own hate and anger. His hate and anger is what almost killed him. Then Charles jumps in to save him. This is the first time someone wanted to genuinely help him since his mother. Charles was willing to jump in ice cold water just to save him. Immediately Charles knew what Erik has gone through, and as usual he wants to help him. Erik says "I thought I was alone" and he was. I don't think he was only talking about just mutants, but just being alone in general. And then Charles responds with "You are not alone". This can symbolize Charles saving Erik from drowning in his own anger and revenge. He thought he was by himself until Charles came in.

Note: There is multiple times where the main character jumps into the water to save their love interest from drowning. Think about the Little Mermaid where Ariel stopped... Eric from drowning. Think about Wonder Woman, where Diana jumped in the water to save Steve. Just saying....

"Surprised you've managed to stay this long"

This scene basically speaks on it's own so I don't have a lot to say here. But first, Charles was already outside before Erik left. I'm not sure why he was outside in the first place or if he was expecting Erik to leave and catch him on the way out. But Charles is literally the first person (i'm going to assume) that actually cares if Erik leaves. He wants Erik to stay because he cares about him, knows him and what he's gone through, and desperately want to help him. When Charles offers his help, Erik scoffs thinking its a completely ridiculous idea that he can be saved. But instead of saying that he says "I don't need your help". Well... we all know that's a lie. Erik is so used to being alone and working for himself, it's a foreign feeling to be around people who don't want to hurt him. This also can symbolize that despite Erik appearing to want to be alone, Charles won't let him. Then Charles says "I won't stop you from leaving. I could, but i won't" Unlike probably everyone Erik ever encountered in his life, Charles gives him a choice. He treats him like a person (fuck you Shaw).

Cerebro

When Erik walks in the room, Charles is surprised but visibly happy to see Erik. Then Erik says that mutants should be found by its own people, no suits. Charles looks at him for a minute and agrees with him. I’m not sure Charles thought about that in that very moment but listened when given the suggestion. Erik gives Charles a look that also shows visible happiness. They are just so damn happy to be with each other it’s adorable. Then they exchange witty banter. As I said before, A D O R A B L E.

Road Trip

This is the time Erik and Charles bond together even more.I don’t have much to say on the montage besides... it’s nice to see those two bond together and have fun.

Realist vs Optimist

Erik and Charles are playing chess together and Charles starts talking about how he will be able to help the mutants out there. How they can do it together. However Erik points out how they might not be able to. Once the government doesn’t need them, they will discard them or experiment on them.

I would call Erik a pessimist but that’s not entirely true. He’s not thinking the worse of ever situation he’s being realistic. The government would be scared of their power and once they don’t need them, they will try to get rid of them. He’s not even wrong at the end. Another scene is another one where they are playing chess. It seems whenever they start playing chess they start debating. Charles being the optimist, seeing the good in humans while Erik being the realist (but close to the optimist) by seeing the obvious evil humans have in them.

Russia

Something to point out, when dealing with the Russians, Charles tries to deal with them in the least violent way possible. When Erik deals with the Russians, he’s more violent, attacking them directly.

When Erik starts to lose control, Charles stop him. That seems to happen quite often in this movie. Charles is basically Erik’s restraint.

“Brightest Memory in Your Memory Bank” (aka the best Cherik scene ever)

Charles doesn’t want to shoot Erik (Guns probably make him nervous and the possibility of Erik not saving himself in time is scary.) So Charles pushes Erik more. Erik explains how he needs a specific situation, the anger, to be able to move something that big. That’s what he’s been told his whole life but Charles knows that’s not true. Charles contradicts everything that Shaw is, everything that Shaw believes in and says. He knows that there is more power Erik has, that Erik is just not aware of yet.

When you think about it, Charles is the serenity to Erik’s rage. Charles gave the serenity that Erik needed by unlocking a memory, Erik doesn’t even know he had. It’s such a beautiful moment that it brings both Charles and Erik to tears. This is the moment Charles and Erik truly connect completely. Charles understands a part of Erik nobody ever has since his mother.

Then Erik tries again and he succeeds. Both of them laughing in joy, Erik for being able to do it and Charles for being genuinely joyed that Erik succeeded.

Cuba Beach Divorce

This is the moment when things start becoming dark between them. While Shaw was talking to Erik, he managed to basically do the opposite of what Charles was trying to do for Erik. Bringing back his trauma and pain. Making him believe he was a weapon, instead of a person. When he put the helmet on, that symbolizes the disconnect he now had with Charles. Charles main power is communicating with people between minds. Erik putting on the anti-telepathy helmet symbolized the communication they no longer had with each other. Sure they can still speak to each other, but Erik is no longer listening to Charles. He no longer has serenity, only rage. When Erik slowly puts the coin through Shaw’s head, he makes Charles endure through the same pain. Symbolically showing that Erik’s revenge only caused Charles pain and the destruction of the beautiful relationship they had.

As Erik expected, the humans banded together to destroy a race they feel threatened by. Erik attempts to send them back the missles they intended to use to blow them up, but then Charles tries to stop him.

There is multiple times throughout the movie that Charles stops Erik from doing something and Erik stops, relunctantly, but he does. But now there relationship is strained and broken. When Charles tries to stop him he fails, Erik continues to do it, even hurting Charles to do it, until...

The bullet Erik deflected shot Charles in the back. When people usually say “shot in the back” or “stabbed in the back” it usually means betrayal. In Charles’ mind, Erik probably did betray him. Charles will do anything to protect people, even at the cost of hurting HIMSELF. Erik seems to constantly hurt the people around him, no matter how much he loves them.

The whole speech they have with each other is self-explanatory but their eyes show so much pain. They obviously don’t want to let each other go, but they are simply too different.

Erik holds a special type of pain, because he hurt the first man who genuinely loved and cared about him since his mother. The man who didn’t see him as a weapon to be used but a friend. The first mutant Erik has a positive interaction with. The only person who was able to unlock a side of Erik, even he didn’t know exist. In a way, he disappointed Charles and proved him wrong, that there is no good in him and he cannot be helped.

When he looks up he looks angry and hurt because he knows he won’t be able to change his mind. He know lost someone he considered a... (*cherik iykyk*) fRiEnD.

And Erik leaves Charles alone on the beach. Bleeding from the wound he gave him. Hurt from losing his bEsT fRienD and sister.

In conclusion: P A I N

[beyondconfessor]

Principle Decisions [16/24]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Zelda Spellman/Lilith

Summary: They were in the middle of an interrogation suddenly, and propriety dictated that Lilith should be the one to decline to comment, but Zelda could see that she was, for the first time since she’d known her, uncertain in how to do that. 

N.B.: Also posted on AO3. This is pure fantasy, please suspend your disbelief.

Zelda shuffled the newspaper, looking around it to peak at Sabrina. Her niece was sitting at the table, eating at the pancakes Hilda had made. 

She knew she should say something. Advise Sabrina that she was friends with her principal, and yet all Zelda had managed to say was that she was having a few people over for dinner. The family was welcome to be there, but it was for a small gathering of friends as she hadn’t hosted anything in some time.

It had involved her scrambling to invite Constance over, and then she had found herself inviting Shirley as well, because, well, she was technically Constance’s friend as well and Constance had asked and Zelda didn’t want to refuse her despite how much of a cow the woman was. And technically, Shirley had been nothing but polite to her since returning from her mother’s funeral.

Which meant that she had three guests and four family members, and would be sitting seven people––except Ambrose asked if he could bring Luke, which meant eight, and then Sabrina asked if she could bring Harvey, nine, and then Hilda, not wanting to feel left out, requested to bring Doctor Cee. Ten.

Ten people were to be sitting at an impromptu dinner and Zelda had to buy groceries, and wine and decide on what to cook––and then try to get her sister and Sabrina to help her, because god forbid she do all the cooking herself.

Ten people. It was certainly to be a dinner party at the very least, and all because she wanted people to see that her and Lilith were friends. Though she supposed she should refer to her as Mary during the party, to prevent anyone from getting confused.

Zelda had the family cleaning the house from top to bottom, ensuring cobwebs were removed, the floors were mopped, and rugs had had the dust and dirt beaten from them, giving them new life. 

She also made sure that the upstairs was just as clean, though it was unlikely anyone would be heading upstairs. She didn’t have to worry about Sabrina, who, like herself, tended to keep a tidy space. But Hilda and Ambrose both ended up having a lecture from her for the state of their rooms, both bowing their heads and grumbling under their breaths as they spent their Thursday and Friday evenings cleaning them. 

Heaven only knew why it took them so long, but so be it.

Saturday morning, she began prepping the food with Hilda. During that time, she received two text messages from Lilith (one of which was just a photo that Zelda quickly responded to), five from Constance fretting over what to bring, and one from Shirley (who was only asking for confirmation of the address). 

By four, the house carried the scent of a cooked roast, with entrees already set, leaving her enough time to shower and dress, preparing herself to look good. 

She fiddled between jewellery, a nervousness filling her before she finally managed to decide on a complimentary emerald set to the dress she wore. And then by the time she was downstairs, ensuring the white wine was in the fridge and the red wine was set out, to decant, the first guest had arrived.

Sabrina answered the door, tugging Harvey inside who looked wide-eyed at the adults. “I…” he said, holding out a bouquet. “Um, didn’t know what to bring.”

Zelda softened at the flowers, noting that they were not an inexpensive set. “Thank you, Harvey,” she said, taking the flowers in hand and making her way into the kitchen. It was an odd choice of gift to bring, but given that the boy couldn’t bring a bottle of wine, and likely felt embarrassed at the idea of bringing dessert (something Zelda would have taken offence to, anyway) she settled that the flowers were a polite choice.

In the kitchen, she unwrapped them, setting them in a vase with water, before taking them to the dining room table as the centrepiece. This way, the boy would likely feel welcomed into the home, and Sabrina would feel that she was making some effort to be respectful towards their relationship. 

As she was fixing one of the flowers, the doorbell rang again. Zelda turned around, moving to greet the new guest only to hear Sabrina’s blanched voice, “Ms. Wardwell?”

“Sabrina,” Lilith greeted, smiling tightly as she entered, holding a bottle of wine. “Hilda, lovely to see you.”

“Oh, Mary, Zelds didn’t tell us that you were her mystery friend.”

Lilith’s eyes turned to Zelda’s, a strange look filling them. “Didn’t she?” 

Zelda flushed. “Well you’re here now, and there’s no need for introductions.”

“When did you and Ms Wardwell become friends?”

Zelda drew in a breath. She’d prepared an answer and yet, faced with her niece, it felt flimsy at best.

“Your Aunt and I happened to keep running into each other, quite accidentally. I believe she thought I was a parent at the school until that nasty fight occurred.” 

Zelda’s shoulders relaxed with those woods. There was truth enough in them that she didn’t need to worry about Sabrina poking holes into it. 

“Oh,” was all Sabrina said. There was a furrow to her brow, as if she wasn’t entirely pleased with the situation, but in fairness, Zelda couldn’t blame her. It was one thing for your Aunt to prolifically know quite a fair amount of people in the town due to having taught them, it was another thing entirely for her to be good enough friends with your Principal that she invited her over for dinner.

“I brought a bottle of wine,” Lilith said, holding up the bottle in grip before she handed it over. Zelda took it, glancing to the label and noted that was it was a midrange bottle. Not so expensive to draw eyes, but not cheap by any means.

“Thank you, this will go lovely with dinner.”

Lilith’s lips twisted into a smirk, and then before she could even think of saying something, the door was ringing again. 

Within forty-five minutes, everyone had arrived, with Constance been the last person––profusely apologising, advising that Faustus had been home late and the au pair was off sick, so she’d been unable to leave any sooner.

“It’s not an issue,” Zelda assured, leading her to sit down. “It’s good to see you.”

“Honestly, these days, he’s home later and later, and I––“ Constance seemed to catch herself, realising the setting. “I’m tired of looking after the twins,” she finished. “One child is a full-time job, but two!” 

Zelda nodded, “A glass of wine, perhaps.”

“Please.”

The table was set, and Zelda noted that Lilith took her left-hand side, across from Constance, who sat next to Shirley. The table filled with people sitting side-by-side with their respected guests, leaving Sabrina to sit at the other end of the table, Ambrose to one side and Harvey to the other. 

Which meant that Hilda and Doctor Cee were sitting across from one another in the middle, but so be it. 

Food was served, the wine passed down the table, with Sabrina and Harvey permitted to have a single glass with dinner (though Harvey politely refused). 

Ever the hostess, Zelda led the conversation with Constance and Shirley, discussing their end of terms, before their plans for the winter break. 

“Oh, Faustus and I were planning to travel, but I think with the twins it’d just be too difficult, so we might stay for the winter.”

“I had plans with my mother,” Shirley said. “But, that’s all gone now, so I suppose I’ll just spend Christmas alone.”

Zelda felt a flare of annoyance rise in her at Shirley’s unsubtle attempt to shaft her mother’s death into the conversation, but relaxed when she felt Lilith’s hand slide covertly under the table and settle on her thigh. The fingers squeezed over her knee and with it, Zelda felt her emotions soften.

She turned, looking out the corner of her eye and noticed her inquisitive expression towards Shirley. “Do you have any siblings?” Lilith asked

“No, only child.”

Lilith nodded. “It must be hard.”

Shirley gave a wave of her hands and a tight smile. “You do the best you can,” she said. “It’s just my first Christmas without my mum, and pfft, Dad left long ago.”

“You’ll have the memories of all your Christmases before with your mother. It won’t make it easier, but it definitely…easies the ache to know that you had that time together.”

“Did you lose your mother, too?” Constance asked.

“Oh,” Lilith pulled away, and Zelda felt her hand drop away as she gave an awkward laugh. “I suppose so, but I…never knew my parents,” she said, finishing tightly with a soft shrug of her shoulders. “But in the end, you make your own family.”

A silence pulled then, and Zelda turned and looked at Lilith, asking her softly. “What about your foster parents, or adopted–?“

“I never had a steady home,” Lilith said, and then her eyes pulled away. “I was on my own at the age of sixteen, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“I didn’t mean to pry,” Constance said, “It’s just that you spoke of loss.”

“Have you lost someone recently?” Shirley asked. “A sister, perhaps or…brother?”

Lilith looked awkward then, and Zelda realised there was a deep, pained expression. Lilith didn’t want to discuss whatever pain-point that was, and yet no one else on the table seemed to notice. All of their attention was focused on her, eager to see what story would unfold. 

Zelda felt nauseous by it. They were in the middle of an interrogation suddenly, and propriety dictated that Lilith should be the one to decline to comment, but Zelda could see that she was, for the first time since she’d known her, uncertain in how to do that. 

“I think it can be said that we’ve all lost someone close to us,” Zelda spoke. “I know that losing Edward and Diana still brings a painful reminder when the holiday comes around. Mary’s right, the time we spent, and the memories we carry of them remind us of how precious the time we have together is. And the pain of knowing what we lost reminds us that we’re still capable of carrying on that love of them in our hearts.”

It was a sappy speech, but effective nonetheless as Hilda gave a misty-eyed look to her, tilting her glass in agreement, as soft murmurs broke over the table.

And then, the conversation drifted––Hilda began speaking of Edward and Diana fondly to the keen attention of Doctor Cee and Sabrina, as Constance and Shirley began discussing the dullness of wills and funeral affairs. 

To her side she noticed Lilith stiffen, her expression far away on something else. 

Leaning towards her, she asked loud enough that others would hear, “could you help me get dessert ready? I need to let it sit.”

And then they were pulling away, glasses in hand as they went into the kitchen as the conversation began to return to lighter topics behind them. 

Lilith held her glass of wine, and before she could say anything, Zelda filled the glass and then her own. 

In the kitchen, the dinner party seemed far away and Zelda was able to sip at her wine as she watched Lilith take a mouthful before setting it down on the counter. There was still a distant stare in the woman, and Zelda ached as she looked at her. 

She knew better than to ask. If and when Lilith was ready, she would reach out on her own terms.

The Lilith took a breath, standing up straight as she masked her expression to say, “I apologise. I didn’t mean–-“

“There’s no reason for you to apologise, you did nothing wrong. Everyone else forgot social decorum and decided to dive straight into your history like you were some bleeding heart poet.” Not that Zelda was surprised. Lilith was a new a face, with a mysterious background, of course, everyone would be curiously picking at whatever they could find. 

Turning away, she went into the fridge and pulled out the dinner, setting it down on the table. There wasn’t anything she needed to do with it, but if she was being honest, she didn’t want to drift back to the party and listen to Shirley whine about being motherless.

Zelda barely cried when her mother passed, and she certainly didn’t drag it into every conversation possible to tug at the heartstrings. She simply moved on, as was expected, and continued her research. 

Hilda had been a bit more sentimental and had cried in her room for days. But by then, they’d already lost their father, and the only reason their mother remained alive had been out of sheer spite, it seemed.

Lilith stood awkwardly in the kitchen, as if she didn’t know quite what to do with herself, and Zelda could sympathise. “I did warn you,” Zelda said, trying to lighten the mood. “My family are gossips.”

“Well, I suppose it’s to be expected.”

Zelda peaked out of the room, looking at the dining table before returning to smile at Lilith. “You know, it will probably take them a few moments to know we’re missing. If you wanted a distraction. I could show you around my home.”

“Show me around?”

“Mm. I’ve seen your office, it’s only fair that I show you mine.”

Lilith’s eyes lit-up, a half-smile tugging at her lips. It was an interest, and a chance of topic, at the very least. “And just what does the great Zelda Spellman’s office look like?”

Zelda smiled before nodding her head to exit out of the kitchen, towards the hallway. There, she led her to the large oak door. She turned back to glance at Lilith before twisting the handle, opening the door up to her office like it was a secret place, reserved only for the elite. 

In a sense it was. She didn’t permit guests into her office and her family certainly knew better than to step foot in it when she wasn’t present. 

Lilith entered the room behind her, her eyes drawing over its contents as she circled the office space. Her eyes wandered across the shelves, to the desk, touching over the variety of knick-knacks as Zelda closed and locked the door behind them. 

At the sound of the lock, Lilith turned. “Presumptuous.”

“I didn’t want any interruptions,” she said. “But if you are after something, we’ll need to be quick, before they notice our absence.”

Lilith smirked. “I’m sure there’ll be time yet. You’re giving me a tour of your house, after all.”

“Am I?”

Lilith picked up a framed picture of the family before setting it down, and then her eyes were flicking over the shelves, glancing over their titles. Without looking away, she said. “Take off your underwear.”

“Is that how we’re going to play it?” 

“I won’t ask twice.” Lilith glance at her then, and despite the severity of her expression, warning her to obey, Zelda could see the sparkle in her eyes, before the woman returned to perusing the shelves. 

They both needed a distraction, so be it.

Zelda smirked, and then slid her hands up her dress, sliding the lace down before she stepped out of them and picked them up in her hand. She intended to set them aside, except, as she walked to her desk, Lilith turned around and snatched them from her grip, smirking. 

“You’ll need to be quiet,” she said. “Can you be quiet for me?”

Zelda grinned. “I can be quiet.”

“I thought I’d ask because you were rather vocal in my office, and I doubt a mouse problem would be so easily believed,” Lilith said as she stepped forward until she was in Zelda’s space.

Zelda’s face tilted towards her. “I can be quiet,” she assured.

“Let’s see, otherwise I might have just the use for these,” she said, holding up the lace, and then leant forward and kissed her.

It was a needy kiss, demanding with biting and sucking and Zelda revelled in it, sliding her hands over Lilith’s shoulders and through her hair before she felt the woman’s hands settle on her hips, as she pressed Zelda backwards until her back hit the wall. 

Zelda gasped as Lilith pulled back, her face inches away before she tugged Zelda’s dress up, high on her hips and began purposefully sliding her fingers over her sex. 

At the very first stroke, Zelda’s head rolled back, eyes squeezing shut. 

“Uh-uh, eyes on me,” Lilith said, and tugged Zelda’s face towards her. “Look at me, Zelda.”

Zelda nodded, watching Lilith’s face shifted with pleasure as she continued to stroke, drawing it out in a slow tease. “There we go. Aren’t you just delicious,” she said. 

Zelda whimpered as she felt the woman slide inside of her and then Lilith was pressing against her, one hand stroking inside of her as the other splayed across her sternum, holding her firmly against the wall

“Be quiet. We wouldn’t want anyone to hear.”

“I am––“ and then Zelda stopped, feeling a hand wrap around her throat, pinning her there. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. 

“Open up,” Lilith said. 

Zelda obeyed, opening her mouth only to watch as Lilith grinned and lifted the black lace in grip, before pressing them into her mouth.  Zelda’s mouth closed over the underwear, tasting her arousal as she watched as the pleased expression wash over Lilith’s face as she continued to fuck her.

The hand on her throat was firm, but not restrictive, in that when she swallowed her saliva, she could feel the muscles press against Lilith’s palm.

But as she whimpered, the hand grew tighter in warning, reminding her.

It was painfully erotic, to the point Zelda could feel her response pulsating between her legs.

Zelda had engaged in light choking in the past and hadn’t mind how it felt with her other lovers, but when Lilith was fucking her like that, holding her throat like that, Zelda struggled to recall that there was a world outside of this room, outside of sex, outside of Lilith. 

She wanted to go home with her, or take her upstairs and revel in a night of fucking. But she couldn’t. There were other people to think of, consequences for actions. 

But Lilith was holding her firm and Zelda felt like she might break if she let go. 

Her heart ached and she watched the woman’s face staring at hers as she bit back her whimpers and hushed moans, feeling the woman draw her close and closer to climax, until she was finally squeezing around the fingers, feeling her pulse thump against the woman’s hand.

And when the climax ceased and Zelda was drawing away, feeling it wash away from her as Lilith drew out the make-shift gag from her mouth, she watched a strange expression pass on Lilith’s face—not unlike it had all those weeks ago when she’d made her climax against the knot on the rope.

“Lilith,” she said, watching as the woman stepped back, her hands falling away. “Lilith, whatever it is you, you can speak to me.”

The woman’s eyes looked up at her.  “I like you a lot, Zelda,” she admitted. “It’s…been a while since I’ve had such a vested interest in another person.”

Zelda nodded, swallowing. “It’s been a while for me too.”

Lilith smiled at her, but there was a sadness to it, and for a horrible, sinking moment Zelda thought the woman might cry. But then Lilith was blinking and the emotion sunk away from her face, leaving only an echo of what had been there. “I’m sorry for––“

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Zelda assured. She reached out then with her empty hand and took Lilith’s hand in her own, squeezing her fingers. “We don’t have to go back out there.”

“It’s your dinner party,” Lilith reminded. “Whatever would people think if the hostess disappeared?”

“I don’t care what any of them think, I didn’t do this for them.” She felt her words die away, knowing she’d revealed too much of herself in those words. Letting go of Lilith’s hand, she looked away. “What I meant to say was that the whole point of this damned party was for us to show that we were friends.”

“And yet you hid that revelation from your family,” Lilith pointed out.

Zelda looked away. “I––didn’t know how to tell Sabrina. But I’d hardly say that I hid the fact, merely…delayed it.”

Lilith blinked, leaving silence to press between them before she asked, “Are you so worried about if she approves?”

Zelda squirmed uncomfortably at the words and looked away. She didn’t know how to put it into words, but the answer was yes, she did care. She cared about Sabrina’s thoughts. Deep in her heart, she knew why, but to admit it to herself, let alone Lilith, was too vulnerable of a position to put herself in.

“You’re not…ashamed of––“

“No,” Zelda assured. “I’m not ashamed. I…wanted more time of it just being about you and me.”

“It still is,” Lilith assured. “Why do you think that’s going to disappear if people know?” 

Because things were good, she wanted to say. And if her family got involved, they would ruin it unintentionally. They wouldn’t mean to, but they would. They always did. “Is it so wrong to want you all to myself?”

Lilith’s head tilted and a strange expression crossed her face, as if she was tasting the words, poking at the deeper meaning of them.

Zelda flushed and looked away. “I just mean––“

“I know what you mean,” Lilith said, as she stepped back. Her hands crossed underneath her chest as she seemed to pull away, looking as upset as she had been before, at the dinner table, which was the opposite of what Zelda wanted. 

“No, I don’t think you do––Lilith, I’m a private person. All my life, my family think of me as some emotionally repressed, ambitious…hussy,” she added as an afterthought, remembering Hilda’s words from the other week. “I want one thing untainted from them, because inevitable they’ll show you how…broken I am, and you won’t want anything to do with me.”

“Do you think you’re broken?”

“Certainly not,” she said. “But…” she didn’t know how to explain it to her. “They have a way of bringing out the worst in me.” She paused then, looking away. “When I was younger, I had a very active sex life, and that reputation has followed me my entire life. Even when I began at the University rumours followed me. Students still whisper about me sleeping with graduates to pass the time and that, on top of how difficult my family can be. How nosy they are and how selfish I am as a person…” she trailed off and drew in a breath, trying to centre herself and remember what she was trying to say. “This is good. Whatever this is, it works and I don’t feel ashamed of it. But I don’t want other people’s perceptions to take away from this.” 

“You’re worried people will find out and think you’re some kind of deviant?” Maybe, Zelda realised, exhaling. She didn’t feel shame, just a need to keep that side of herself separate. “I’m not going to air your dirty panties, Zelda,” Lilith teased. “But I do want to be your friend.”

“We are friends.”

“Are we?”

Zelda frowned. “What makes you think we’re not?”

Lilith shook her head and smiled. “You’re right. Of course we are.” She smiled and then drifted her eyes around the room. “I should make my way home soon,” she advised. “Before it gets too late.”

Zelda opened her mouth to argue that she could stay the night, if she so wished, but the words didn’t come out. “Stay for dessert at least?” she asked.

“For dessert,” Lilith agreed. 

And then Zelda found herself walking towards the door, unlocking it before she pointed out to where the downstairs water closet was.

Lilith drifted down towards that bathroom and Zelda made her way into the kitchen, where she washed her hands and caught her reflection in the mirror. Thankfully, there was no lipstick marks on her neck, just an ache over her body. A need to request Lilith to stay so she could take her to bed––and honestly, a part of her just wanted to get naked and fall asleep in the woman’s arm.

When they both returned to the dining room, Lilith’s expression had shifted easily to a masked expression, her smile bright, but Zelda could see where it didn’t quite meet her eyes as she spoke with table about art and philosophy, diving into the conversation easily. 

It left Zelda pondering the incident. Lilith had lost someone, and it was evident by the way she’d withdrawn that it was still recent, or deeply painful and somehow, whatever Zelda had said was wrong. 

A strange, hollow feeling settled in her chest and Zelda set it aside, not wanting to deal with it. It wasn’t a feeling she wanted to dwell on, and the selfishness of it made her tear her eyes away from the dinner party, feeling an ache settle in her chest.

She was better than that. 

The rest of dinner passed without issue. Dessert was served. Shirley remained a bitch, and slowly Lilith’s expression turned with genuine interest. 

And then Zelda was serving coffee as Harvey and Sabrina disappeared with Luke and Ambrose. And the remainder of the party moved to the parlour. There, she found herself sitting between Constance and Lilith, aware of Lilith’s body heat as her thigh pressed against her own. And then, very casually, she felt Lilith lean forward to the coffee table, her fingers drifting briefly against her thigh as the woman’s eyes caught hers. 

The other guests were caught in a rapturous discussion over books, but for the life of her, Zelda couldn’t follow what they were saying when she felt the brush of fingers against hers.

But as Zelda went to subtly enquire as to what the woman was implying, Lilith was thanking her for food and company and advised that she needed to leave to get through some administration. 

Oh. 

At that, Shirley and Constance agreed that they, too, needed to leave. Which prompted Doctor Cee to make a vague excuse and resulted in Zelda walking everyone out of the house, her eyes lingering on Lilith as she fought the urge to kiss her goodbye.

And then, they were gone and the house was empty. 

There was still the children upstairs, but if Zelda was being honest, she didn’t care. They’d sort themselves out.

“So you and Mary?” Hilda inclined.

“Pardon?” 

“You and Mary are friends?”

“Oh,” Zelda nodded. “New friends.”

Hilda gave a strange look, before shrugging to herself. “Well, she’s all alone here. I’m sure she needs a friend just as much as you.”

Zelda hummed to herself and drew away from her sister. Exhaustion filled her and there was still a twisting feeling in her stomach as she thought of Lilith’s expression as the woman had pulled away. Zelda was familiar enough with that deep, aching pain to know that if Lilith wanted to speak of it, she would. As it were, they weren’t dating each other and Lilith had no requirements to share what she was feeling.

It still didn’t stop her thoughts running wild.

She showered, thinking of it, changed into her pyjamas and then climbed into bed, still thinking of Lilith. She was just closing her eyes to sleep when she noticed her phone flash in the dark. 

Reaching to the bedside table, she pulled it off its charge and looked it over.

Thank you for tonight. I enjoyed the evening.

And then before Zelda could think of an adequate reply, another message was sent through.

That Shirley woman’s a bitch though. How did you two end up as friends?

Zelda felt a wave of indignant annoyance at the mention of being friends with Shirley Jackson. She wrote back a furious response, ensuring Lilith was aware that she was absolutely not friends with the woman, and only invited her because Constance had half-invited her to begin with. 

There was a back and forth banter for a few minutes and then the phone was ringing and Zelda answered, feeling an anxiety pull at her as she sat up, pressing against the pillows on the bed head. “Lilith?”

“I owe you an explanation about my behaviour tonight.”

Zelda’s chest tightened at the words. The last thing she wanted was for the woman to feel guilted into revealing her past. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do,” Lilith said. “Not that long ago, before Greendale, there was someone. We were planning for the rest of our lives when, very suddenly, he was in a car accident. Adam––“ she paused and Zelda heard the heaviness in her breath Lilith tried to find the words. “He was good. For a long while, I’d forgotten to ask myself what I wanted and he reminded me. And then he was gone, and I moved to Greendale to get away from the life we were building together. And it seemed like such a long, hard thing to do, so I went back to what used to bring me joy and began my Dominatrix service again…and then I saw you.”

Zelda wanted to say something, but she wasn’t sure what an appropriate response was.

“I lied to you about a few things when we were starting. I have a few regular clients that I’ve always had, but there’s no one like you, Zelda. There’s no other client that I see that comes close to what I…permitted with you. Before Adam, I had a much more extensive business across the city, but not here.”

Zelda’s brow pressed, and then an old question rose. “Did you slip the business card into the book?”

“I did. You don’t recall but I was in the bookshop as well, and I noticed you pursuing the erotica and the self-help section before you set the books aside. When your sister had pointed to the book, I slid the card in, hoping you’d take an interest.”

“How did you know I would call?”

“I didn’t. I had no idea if you would or wouldn’t. I knew nothing about you except what book took your curiosity. But, I will admit, you were quite beautiful and I hoped. And then you rang.”

Zelda tried to recall the day in the bookshop, but she remembered nothing of any other occupants, her anger solely focused on Hilda.

“I understand if you feel misled.”

“I don’t,” Zelda advised. “You didn’t force my hand in calling you. I did it myself, almost eagerly so.”

“And then you came back for a second session,” Lilith said with a laugh and then she heard the sound of what sounded like metal on glass, tinkering in the background. 

“I hadn’t cried since my brother’s passing,” Zelda admitted. “For a while, I thought I’d forgotten how. I certainly felt vexed and frustrated to the point that only alcohol or cigarettes seemed to ease it, but I hadn’t…really allowed myself to feel anything for some time until that first session.”

“Well, if you ever want to be spanked until you’re a sobbing mess, I can always provide that.”

“I…will take you up on that offer,” Zelda admitted. It wasn’t the same as the ache she felt before, but there was a weight off her chest, as if something had shifted between them in the quiet of the room. 

“You should come over,” Lilith asked. 

“I’m not driving thirty minutes in the dead of the night,” Zelda scoffed. “I’m already dressed for bed.”

“And what does Zelda Spellman wear to bed?”

“Pyjamas,” she responded dryly. “What else would I wear?”

“Nothing,” Lilith replied. “In fact, I think you should take off your ‘pyjamas’ right now.” The tone had shifted again and Zelda felt herself sit up straighter as a result. She thought to disagree with her and advise that she was going to go to sleep, but all at once, she was wide-awake.

“Fine,” she sighed, before pulling the dressing gown over her head and setting it at the end of the bed before sitting back, bringing the phone to her ear. “I’ve taken it off.”

“And your underwear?” 

“Who said I was wearing any?”

Lilith laughed, and then it slowly faded and there was a pause between them as Zelda waited for the next instruction. “Tell me what you would want me to do to you if I was there.”

That was a change, and Zelda felt it hum down her. She swallowed, settling back on the bed. “We would have to be quiet,” she said, before biting her lip, that probably wasn’t a very sexy thing to say. “You would sneak into my bedroom, and get into bed with me.”

“Mmhmm?” She heard an exhaled breath and then Zelda realised what Lilith was doing.

Invigorated by it, Zelda sat up straight and then parted her own legs, following in the same stead. “Lilith all I want is to fuck you. I want to undress you and feel how wet you are. I want to slide inside of you and feel your hips rock and listen as you gasp and moan. I want to taste you and slide my tongue inside of you.”

“Is that all?” Lilith purred, and there was decorum before Zelda heard a gasp through the phone. “And if you had me, is that all you would do?”

“I would fuck you,” Zelda assured. “I want to see your face when I make you climax, and feel it around my fingers, and then, when you think I’m done, I’m going to turn you over and fuck you again, harder until your hands are clutching at my sheets and you’re left gasping.”

“Zelda.” 

“I’m going to fuck you, even if I have to tie you down myself and find that cock you love so much and bury it deep inside of you.”

She could hear Lilith panting now, there was no disguise to what she was doing. Zelda stroked between her legs, naked on her bed as slid inside of her self, her other hand stroking at her clit as her shoulder pressed the phone to her ear.

“If you come for me, you will say my name,” Zelda commanded it, and she heard a gasp from Lilith, unmistakable as the woman edged closer and closer. “I hope you know that I’m fucking myself just think about it. Of binding you up with your hands behind your back and bending you over my bed until I’m satisfied.”

“Yes,” Lilith panted, and there was a hushed moan.

Zelda bit her lip, holding back her pleasure. She could feel how close she was too. It was building inside of her as she dug her heels into the bed and then it was all she could focus on as she listened to Lilith keen closer and closer.

Zelda’s breath hitched as she felt the orgasm tug low, pulling at her. “Lilith,” she said. “I want to hear you."

And then, obediently, Lilith cried out and it was Zelda’s name on her lips. An earnest noise, void of performance. It was enough to topple Zelda as she found herself squeezing around her fingers before the orgasm pulled through her.

Her back arched, head pressing against the pillows as her heels dug into the mattress, and then it was over and she was sliding her fingers out, dropping them wetly against herself as she listened to Lilith catch her breath through the receiver.

Lilith gave a short laugh. “If you ever want to switch it up, I would be most pleased,” she said. “But I won’t be anywhere near as obedient as you unless you beg me sweetly.”

“I can handle a brat,” Zelda said, and Lilith laughed.

“I’m sure you can.”

There was a silence that pulled between them as they settled and Zelda felt her eyes close, a tiredness washing over her. “I’m glad you came.”

“Oh, as am I,” Lilith teased.

Zelda scoffed, but the sound barely had an impact on how tired she felt. “I’m glad you came to dinner,” she corrected. “It would have been intolerable without you.”

“Zelda Spellman, are you getting sentimental on me?”

She hummed a response, pulling the blankets up over her body. It was getting cold, and as her body cooled down, she was all the more aware of how empty her bed was. “I enjoy your company, outside of sex.”

“As do I.”

“We should…” and then she wasn’t sure what she was going to say, because the world drifted away as she slipped into a dream. 

_________________

[thecrownnet]

Josh O’Connor may best be known for this breakthrough role in 2017’s God’s Own Country but the Southampton-born actor has been cultivating a catalog of great film and television performances for years. From The Riot Club and The Program in film and Doctor Who, Peaky Blinders, Ripper Street and The Durrells on TV, O’Connor has built a resume that made him the perfect choice to play the most challenging role of his career, Prince Charles in season three of Netflix’s The Crown. O’Connor play the Prince of Wales at a turning point in the would be king’s life, from the early years of his relationship with Camilla Bowles (the Diana years will show up in season four) to the daunting task of figuring out how to lead the commonwealth when the time comes.

I caught up with two-time BIFA winning actor to talk about God’s Own Country, his role in The Crown, what he likes and doesn’t like about biopics and playing real people and Todd Haynes’ I’m Not There.

I wanted to start by talking with you about God’s Own Country, which quickly became a cornerstone of queer cinema, and I think took off in a way most people weren’t expecting. Can you tell me a little bit the impact working on that film had for you?

It was a kind of monumental moment for me and I think a big moment for queer cinema and insofar as it was kind of a gay love story that we hadn’t seen before, you know, in terms of one that ended with hope and one that told a kind of positive story. It was something maybe we’d seen before, but, it’s rare and people were obviously hungry for that. And so it touched many people and I feel like it’s rare that your project gets to have that effect on people. So it was a kind of, it was a huge moment for me. In terms of kind of career wise also just as a creative, as an actor, I think it was a moment of realization about technique and how I want to work. It built a process, which I still use the basis of now. And so yeah, it was really impactful for me.

I love that. Earlier this year you had Emma., how was it stepping into Mr. Elton’s shoes?

(laughs) It was very different than anything I’ve done before. I’ve never done comedy before. Autumn de Wilde, who is an exceptionally talented director, came in and it was very clear she wanted a kind of Peter Cook-esque Mr Elton and we’ve talked about him having a sort of darker side, which we touch on in the film. I think it was real, I loved it, it was kind of getting to stretch my muscles, my comedic muscles I suppose. And yeah, it was a real treat and it’s a lovely, beautiful ensemble film.

Diving into The Crown, had you watched the first two seasons of the show to help inform you of the style or approach to the series?

Yes, I had. I’d seen the first two and I’m very good friends with Vanessa Kirby who played Margaret so, I initially watched it as a kind of support for my friends, but then absolutely, obviously got hooked and I think the first two series’ are exceptional. Claire Foy is kind of spellbinding, Matt Smith I think is extraordinary as Philip, and often sort of, it’s underplayed how brilliant he was. I absolutely loved it and then be a part of this group of actors who I totally adore and look up to, you know, the likes of Tobias Menzies, to go from Matthew is extraordinary, and Olivia Colman and Helena Bonham Carter, you know, these are all people that I aspire to so it’s been a real treat.

What were the main sources and figuring out who Prince Charles is on a personal level?

Well, I think there were a few things to kind of brought out the personal, but initially when I started with Charles, I spent so much time watching footage of him, or hearing recordings of him from the period. After a while I got to the point where I was like, actually, I don’t know that this has helped. It certainly isn’t helping me get any closer to the character and certainly isn’t getting close to who Charles really is behind closed doors. And so I sort of threw all that out the window. The thing that got me there more than anything was something that Peter Morgan had written, which is I think episode eight of series three. Charles described his life as being like he as being like a character in Dangling Man. He says, the character is a working class blue collar guy from Chicago and he’s waiting to be drafted to go to war and he actually wants to be drafted because it’ll give his life meaning, even though it means that they’ll go to a certain death.

And the idea that Charles, Prince Charles is this young boy who’s actually waiting for his own mother to die in order for his life to take meaning, I just thought that was a kind of, it locked into a sort of tragic narrative of this young boy that is so rare and an extraordinary. So that was the kind of, that was the crux of it.

When you’re playing somebody that is so well known, how do you strike the balance between impression and interpretation and what do you think you brought to Prince Charles?

Yeah, that’s such a good question. It’s a question I don’t know the answer to, yet. The best way to, for me, in my personal view of it as an audience member, is that I never enjoy seeing in any kind of biopic or whenever I see an actor playing a real person, I find it very difficult to watch and actor to do something really exactly like the person.

I don’t know why. I think it becomes too much like an impression. And what I always loved is that there was a great film called I’m Not There, which is about Bob Dylan. And so it was like eight or nine actors playing Dylan at different stages in his life and not just different stages but playing different aspects of his personality. So Cate Blanchett, plays the kind of more recognizable Dylan, which is the sort of public eye Dylan, you had Heath Ledger playing the kind of rock and roll Dylan, you had a young actor [Marcus Carl Franklin] playing the Woody Guthrie influenced Bob Dylan. So you had all these different actors, all totally different and most of them looked nothing like and resembled him in no way. And I remember that was the most powerful representation of Dylan I’ve seen or of anyone I’ve seen and I thought when I’m playing Prince Charles there’s no point in me spending all this time trying to get his voice and trying to look like him and walk like him.

Those things will happen naturally. And I think, you know, it’s good to have little aspects and little notes that people feel safe and comfortable in the knowledge secure that you are playing Prince Charles. But as soon as you can get rid of those, the earlier you can get rid of those, the the more interesting and the more adaptive that character is, the more influential that character can be. And as I say, it’s more interesting seeing Josh play Prince Charles than it is seeing just seeing Prince Charles.

I love that example of I’m Not There. It’s a brilliant movie and it is such a great way to bring an audience into a character without feeling like you’re just watching video footage.

Exactly. Because there’s documentary. We also undersell the brilliant art form that is documentary, which I absolutely adore it. There’s nothing better than watching old footage of Charles. I love it. But it’s not the same. I want to see an actor play and Claire Foy is a great example. I should stop rambling but Claire Foy is a great example of an actress who plays the queen so stupendously everyone in the world sat up right when they watched Claire and Matt Smith in series one and two. And it wasn’t because there was, ‘Oh my God,’ she looked and speaks exactly like the queen at that age. Most of us don’t know what the queen looked like at that age and it sounded like at that age because there wasn’t very much TV. So actually all we’re looking at is an incredible performance of the character. And I think I remember watching Claire and Matt and thinking ‘let’s focus on that.’ Let’s not try and play Prince Charles, let’s try and play the character.

Again, that’s a perfect example that makes perfect sense. There’s a turning point in the series when Charles, as the Prince of Wales, has to learn to speak Welsh. Did you know any Welsh or was this something new for you as well?

I mean, I certainly knew no Welsh. I’d never spoken a word of Welsh in my life a lot. I’d heard the language. One of the most kind of influential or most magical moments from when I was in grammar school was I heard an old recording of Dylan Thomas reading Under Milk Wood and was a beautiful radio play that he wrote and it was and poetical and beautiful and Dylan speaks it in this kind of like raucous Welsh voice. It’s like, mind blowing, and it was a kind of really special moment. So that combined with the fact that I love Wales the country, I felt very great affinity for the Welsh language. But as I said, I had no idea. So it’s very much, it was very much kind of like Charles’ feelings about having to learn it. There were muffs the same as mine and we went through a long process of learning everything. And yeah, I mean it’s great. I still know the speech now, but I don’t know what it means.

Which brings us right to that monumental episode where you have to give the speech for his investiture. Tell me about that sequence, which I think is just extraordinary in this series.

It’s a beautifully written episode. It has so much significance because it’s about Charles stepping up and becoming an adult. To me it was the thing that convinced me to take the role in the first place. I suddenly realized this as a young man who is, in my in recent history, is kind of known as a bit of a wally [British slang for ineffectual or foolish]. He goes around and talks about the environment, which of course we all know he was right. In the 80s and 90s he was considered a bit of a buffoon. And then there’s the Diana years and the thing that got me and took and basically convinced me to take the role was I suddenly realized he’s a lost boy and the investiture episode is him taking that lost boy and going, ‘No, I’m going to own this and I’m going to become a man.’

Jumping off that a bit, what do you think was the most misunderstood thing about Charles from this period of his life?

I think sort of the misunderstood thing of most of the Royal families, is that they had some perfect childhood. I mean, in terms of financially, they probably had a pretty great childhood, but I think terms of relationships to parents, relationships to siblings, they’re just like anyone else. I mean, they’re difficult. They have their ups and their downs. He was a lost boy but a lost boy with the knowledge that he was going to have to at some point lead, be the king, the reign of England, of the Commonwealth of this huge empire and we now know, it’s taken an entire lifetime and he still isn’t the King.

I think that’s the biggest thing that hopefully people have taken. There’s been a great response within people calling out and saying they feel great sorrow for Charles now. So hopefully that’s what they’ll take.

In looking forward to the future of your career, do you have a dream role in mind that you’d like to play?

I don’t know actually. It’s one of these questions that so hard because I’m always surprised when I say something quick and then a script will come through with a totally original role and there’s nothing better than a new script and a role that you’ve never thought of. It grabs me. But I suppose there are plenty of performances I’ve always kind of aspired to like Daniel Day-Lewis has played and those kind of fully formed characters or Tom Hanks. Those are the kinds of roles that you dream of. In terms of theater it’s easy because everyone wants to play Richard II or Hamlet. I’ve always wanted to play Richard II, so one day hopefully I’ll be able to do that. But beyond that, certainly the dream is to keep getting to play new characters and work with great directors.

All seasons of The Crown, including S3 where Josh O’Connor appears, are streaming exclusively on Netflix.

[nonsensicalobsessions]

A Symphony without Strings, Chapter 7

By now, you should be used to my musical program notes. As before, you can simply loop the piece until the next selection is listed if you like. I hope that you have enjoyed this musical adventure of Merry, Tom, Liam, and Aiden, of course. This is the final chapter of the story, although there will be a Coda, or an epilogue, to follow.

Trigger warning: Leukemia 

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

First Selection: https://youtu.be/SoHAUPr0ZhM OR https://open.spotify.com/track/2yuXucNpycBRknOskf3S2P?si=4itBkI1xRkqs-T4wZPwnbQ

The room was filled with a mixture of energies...Love. Tension. Excitement. Even relief.

Kelly, all smiles, was seated on one side of Merry, Tom on the other. Both were holding her hands.

“Well, sweetie, you made it this far,” Kelly grinned, her usual cheerful demeanor even more exuberant. “Are you ready to go?”

Merry looked deeply into Tom’s eyes, and smiled. His eyes crinkled as he returned it, and they squeezed each other’s hand tightly, although he was careful to remain aware of how small her hand was in his.

Never breaking her gaze, Merry answered Kelly steadily, “Bring it.”

Kelly nodded at the technician that was standing by the infusion pump, and she hit a button. The machine hummed and came to life immediately, running almost silently.

“Well, there you are, Merry. Your new and improved T cells are moving in,” sang Kelly. “The infusion is not going to take long, only about forty-five minutes, and you shouldn’t feel any different when you’re done today. So just kick back and relax. We’re going to let you be.” She ushered the technician out, but added, “Holler if you need anything. I’m trusting Tom to let us know if you do.” She winked, and closed the door.

Merry ducked her head, and let out a nervous laugh.

“Does this mean I get to call you the Terminator?”

“Not if you want me to answer.”

“Can I show you a picture of Liam and ask you—“

“Thomas.”

He sighed heavily, his face a study in woe. “Oh, you never let me have any fun.”

He looked at her from the corner of his eye, and saw she was struggling to keep from laughing.

Mission accomplished.

After the infusion was completed for the day, after she had enjoyed a long conversation with Liam and Aiden about everything and anything, Tom was carefully rubbing her feet and talking with her about how his mother had taken the news of Liam and Merry.

“Merry, everything was moving so fast. I had hoped to talk with her in a calm fashion. Give her time to get used to the idea, and then have her meet the two of you. But you became so ill, and you needed to return to New York, and there was no chance of having you leave without me...”

“Oh God...oh God...Tom, Tom...what happened, what did you tell her, what did she say...” Merry had her arm thrown over her tightly closed eyes. She had no doubt somewhere in England there was a woman cursing her name as the harlot who ensnared her bright, successful son...

“Merry, whatever you’re thinking, stop it right now. You’re all but shrinking into the mattress,” Tom tenderly kissed the top of her foot, then removed the arm from Merry’s face.

“She hates me. Christ, what she must think of me, but it’s all right, I understand, as long as she doesn’t take it out on Liam, Tom, please don’t have her take it out on Liam, it isn’t his fault,” Merry babbled frantically, her eyes panicked. “He’s just a baby, surely she would never vent her spite on a child, he’s your son...”

“Merry, what is this, have you lost your mind? You don’t have a fever...” Tom had hastily touched her forehead. “Who said anything about my mother hating anyone? Calm down, sweetheart! My mother, disliking a child, any child, to say nothing of her grandson...my mother?” Tom was shaking his head in disbelief. Then, understanding came to him in a rush. He took a deep breath. Of course Merry would expect such a reaction. How could she envision anything else, with the experiences she had with her own mother?

“Darling. Sweetheart, look at me. Merry, look at me.” He guided her head to capture her eyes with his intense gaze. “Now, please, listen to my words, while I tell you what happened, all right?”

During the tense hours that Clara and others were fighting to get Merry stable enough to fly, Tom was taking a deep breath to have the worst conversation he ever expected to have with his mother.

“Mum. Thanks for letting me come see you on such short notice.” Tom stepped into his mother’s kitchen and gave her a tight hug.

Diana looked at Tom suspiciously. “Since when have you had to call and schedule an appointment with your mother, Thomas?”

Tom ran his hands through his hair. Seeing the distress in his eyes, Diana relented and patted her son’s cheek softly.”What’s wrong, Tom? You look exhausted and on the verge of collapse.”

Tom took his mother’s hands and said, “Mum, please sit down.”

Diana looked at Tom, growing intuition in her eyes. “Like that, is it? Very well Tom, but not here at the kitchen table. Let’s go sit on the sofa.”

Tom preferred the kitchen table, he had hoped to keep some physical distance between them, but Diana had already taken his hand and led him to the sofa and patted the seat cushion next to him. “Now,” she said. “What’s all this about?”

Haltingly, he told her. About a woman he met five years ago. How he fell head over heels in love with her, even though he knew he was going to leave. And leave he did. Without ever looking back, although sometimes he was forcibly reminded, and he viciously quashed his desire to reach out, because they had promised each other they would move on with their lives.

And then, a letter, the day he was supposed to help with heavy lifting in the garden. As impossible as it seemed, it was less than six days ago.

He showed her a photograph, already showing signs of being worn with handling.

He talked of two people trying to come back together, of a little boy that was thrilled to find the Papa he knew was out there, somewhere.

Then he spoke heavily of failed trials, of blood and last chances, and a desperate flight to New York that he hoped would be imminent.

Diana looked at the photo in silence, tears streaming down her face. When she finally looked up at her son, who was fidgeting much like she imagined the boy in the photo might, she finally spoke in a heavy sigh.

“Thomas William Hiddleston...Son, you are an utter twat.”

Merry gasped. “Tom! She did not!”

Tom gave her a lopsided grin. “Oh, yes, she did. And wait. There’s more.”

Tom winced as his mother continued. “I cannot believe that you were such an idiot as to fall in love so completely and then believe that you could walk away from such a treasure. Is love so common then? Are women like your Merry to be found in every neighborhood, in every county? I cannot believe you are such a fool, Thomas!” She looked at the photo again and said, “My God, he is the spit of you.”

“We had a paternity test run, she insisted, and it is conclusive, there is no doubt...”

“And that’s another thing...this woman comes to you after having had no contact with you, even after learning she was carrying your child...”

“Here it comes,” moaned Merry. Tom gently shook her hand, mouthing, “Stop it,” and continued:

“...because she was honoring that ridiculous promise you made to each other...carried him, despite having no support, being sick as could be carrying him, because she would look at your schedule and she decided it would be inconvenient for you. Now, she isn’t asking you for a thing, not a single pound, not even the courtesy of your acknowledgement...she just wanted to make you aware of your child’s existence, so you can decide what role you wish to play in this boy’s life, because she is so desperately ill she fears she might pass and take away your choices...and she didn’t tell you before now because, as you say, she wanted to come to you from a, how did she phrase it, a ‘position of strength’ so it would not appear as if she was asking for anything.”

Tom wanted nothing more than to be up and pacing, but his mother had taken his hand and had a grip like a vise on it, so all he could do was bounce his knee while running his other hand through his hair or else rubbing the back of his neck and his mouth, repeatedly.

“Yes, Mum.”

“And you still have feelings for Merry?”

Tom looked up, and Diana saw the naked emotion in his eyes. “Mum, I love her. I never stopped loving her...I never would allow myself to admit it, I just...tried to go on with my life. And I did. I expected to find someone else—I even tried to—but no one could ever measure up, she was the standard, and I never realized I didn’t want anyone else. I wanted Merry.”

“Tom...darling, I do love you, but how can you be so brilliant and give such insightful, perceptive performances and yet still be so blind? The love this woman has exhibited for you—putting your career, your comfort, ahead of her own, in such an extraordinary fashion...while I don’t agree with the manner she did it, I understand why she did. She made you a promise, and by God she held to her bond. And now, it is obvious you are expecting me to rain hellfire and damnation on you, telling me you got some lovely young woman with child out of wedlock and are planning on leaving the country in less than a day, God willing, and you can’t even tell me when you are going to return, and I won’t even have the chance to lay eyes on my grandson.”

Tom eyed his mother warily, wondering what the adult version of the naughty step was. She looked so fierce...

“As far as having a relationship that led to a child, please, Thomas, give me some credit. You were an adult in love and you were behaving responsibly as far as you knew. I cannot fault you, son. You’re a grown man. And now you are taking responsibility for your child as well as seeing to the woman you love—the woman you’ve always loved although you were foolish enough to let her go—now she’s come to you in her eleventh hour and you expect me to be upset with you? Is this accurate?”

Tom simply nodded his head slowly.

“Thomas, if you weren’t getting on that plane with her, I’d be dragging you onto it myself. By the ear if need be! Now go and do what you need to be ready. Please tell Merry, when she is ready to hear it, I am thinking about her, I cannot wait to meet both her and my handsome grandson. I expect you to let me know how she fares, Tom...and some photos of Liam, if Merry doesn’t mind.”

Tom’s smile was blinding as he reached out to hug his mother once again. “She won’t, Mum.”

“So,” Tom concluded, having moved to take Merry fully into his arms and able to look into her eyes, “there is no hatred, no condemnation. I have been letting Mum know about your progress, and Mum is deeply concerned for you. I haven’t sent her many photos of Liam, but I have sent her a few...”

Merry sighed, relaxing into his embrace, “Tom, send as many as your heart desires. And your mother doesn’t have to worry over me. Truly, she doesn’t.”

Tom pulled his head back. “Why would you say such a thing?” His face was a mix of confusion and a touch of irritation.

“Tom, she doesn’t even know me. All I’m saying is...”

“Merry, she knows enough. She knows what I’ve told her. She knows I love you...I am in love with you. You are Liam’s mother. You are an amazing musician. You are a beautiful, amazing soul. All of these things are reasons to be concerned, and she will be concerned.” He sighed heavily, then added, “You are worth it, Merry.” He kissed her cheek, and cuddled her close. 

Merry drifted off to sleep, her head on his chest, hearing him whisper, “She is going to adore you, Mozart. Wait and see.”

The second day of infusion was just like the first, and Merry was almost bored. Tom was secretly delighted when Merry whined for Kermit, or her violin, if Kermit was deemed too taxing. When she petitioned Kelly, the doctor hesitated.

“Merry, while I’m thrilled you are feeling so well right now, I don’t want you to overwork yourself...”

“Tom will chaperone me...” Merry added hopefully.

Tom laughed and nodded. If Merry was feeling well enough to play, he was all for it. In prior bleak days, he would return to the apartment and watch The Secret Mama Movie with Liam and Aiden, desperately hoping he would experience Merry playing in person again someday. The few days in London were not nearly enough. His memories had faded over time, and seeing the clips only whetted his desire for more. 

Merry was thrilled with the arrival of not only her cello, but her violin, Aiden, and Liam. She was allowed visits from Liam since she was finished with the last round of chemo with no ill effects, provided Liam washed his hands throughly and wasn’t showing any visible signs of illness. (“I love children,” Kelly had said wryly, “but face facts, Merry, they are little walking Petri dishes, and you simply cannot afford to get sick! Your immune system doesn’t need any extra challenges right now.”)

Merry was thrilled to have her family around her for the afternoon, and it was filled with laughter and music. Aiden and Merry played a few duets to both Tom and Liam’s delight, but Tom honored his word and stepped in when he saw Merry beginning to tire, despite her surge of excited energy.

The sun was setting earlier and earlier these days, and Merry wanted Liam inside well before it became too cold outside. With some token grumbling, Aiden took his charge back to the apartment for supper, bath, and bed. Tom promised he would return before bedtime so he could read not one, not two, but three books to make up for the indignity of having to leave so soon.

Merry’s smile was incandescent. “Three books, is it now? Papa Bear, I think you are well and truly spoiling the boy.”

Tom felt his face begin to color as he muttered, “I can’t see the harm in encouraging literacy, Merry...and he’s very bright, I can’t imagine you’d wish to stifle him...I selected these books specifically for him, one is about Shakespeare’s plays, and...” He stopped when Merry dissolved into giggles. 

“You were taking the piss, weren’t you? You were completely having me on, and I fell for it.”

Merry nodded happily. “Yep! Hook, line, and sinker, my love!”

Tom froze, then forced himself to relax. Merry was very reticent with her endearments and her touches. While she was completely open with Liam, giving him nothing but loving words and touches this afternoon, she was still holding herself back where he was concerned.

It would wound Tom greatly, if it wasn’t so similar to how their relationship began—and this time, Tom had the advantage of knowing that Merry did love him. She gave herself away with her smiles, the ways she would relax in his arms when he would hold her (the way she would let him hold her at all), the way she would repeatedly refer to Liam as their son with such joy. He wasn’t sure why she was refusing to let herself go...

“...Tom? Earth to Major Tom?”

“I’m sorry, Merry. I lost myself for a moment.”

“While I’m glad you found yourself again, you were frowning a bit. Are you all right? What’s on your mind? Are you tired? You can go back to the apartment, there’s nothing going on here...”

“Mozart, you are here. That’s all that matters...so until I am required to give three oral interpretations to our boy, here is where I will stay.” He lowered the side rail so he could resume cuddling with her. She sighed and he felt her melt against his body, her head resting against his chest once more.

After awhile of comfortable silence, she began to giggle again.

“Shakespeare, Papa Bear?”

“I will have you know that The Tempest and A Midsummer Night’s Dream are perfect stories to begin introducing children to the Bard,” Tom defended his choices. “They are almost fairy tales in construction, and...”

“Hush, Tom, I’m only teasing you. I know you only have Liam’s best interests uppermost in that prodigious mind of yours.”

Second selection: https://youtu.be/k4PVbd2CHtQ OR https://open.spotify.com/track/1RDS21it4TZetQ7r9KnZ3D?si=u-_kxyJ1SxqwuMMZU4ssGg

And Merry turned her face and kissed the area over his heart. 

Tom would swear that organ skipped a beat. Several, in fact.

Tom finally answered, “Of course I do. I know I’m very new to being a father, Merry...not even a month yet. But I love Liam, and I want to do everything I need to in order to take care of him.”

Merry nodded silently.

Tom continued. “However, I’m not new at loving Merry...and I want to do everything I can in order to take care of her, as well. Merry, you have my heart. I hope you know that.”

She lifted her head to look at him, and gave him the slow smile he cherished. “Tom, you’ve had my heart ever since the day you didn’t let me chase you off...”

He reached down and caressed her face. “Merry, please. Tell me you know I love you. I need to hear it. Tell me you know I’m not leaving you this time, for anything.”

Her smile faded, as though clouds had slowly rolled over the sun. “Tom...you darling, beloved man...I understand you are in a lull with your work right now, and I am grateful for every moment you are spending with me, and I...”

“No. No. You don’t understand. Merry, I am not letting you go. There may be times when I have to travel, but that will not mean we will part. I refuse to allow it. I certainly will not allow traveling to come between myself and Liam. Papa will never, ever leave him. We are family now, Merry...unless...unless you don’t want us to be...?” 

Merry pulled away from him. Her face was now completely troubled.

“Tom, I very much want us to be as close of a family as we can be...”

“What does that mean?”

She avoided his eyes. “I am just...trying to avoid one of us getting hurt.”

“Merry, what do you want from me?  Sweetheart, I just said...”

“Tom. I’m trying to avoid hurting you.”

He stopped, baffled. “I don’t understand.”

She sighed heavily. “Tom...I just...I...I’m trying...damn it Tom, I’m trying so hard not to be selfish...” Her voice was starting to wobble, much as Liam’s would when he was fighting tears.

He guided her head towards his face, trying to force her to meet his gaze. “Darling?”

Merry burst out with all the passion she had kept pent up inside of her for so long, “Damn you, Tom Hiddleston! I’m being so selfish, because I should be staying aloof from you, staying detached, not encouraging you, so should I fail this therapy too, or if it is only effective for a little while, it won’t hurt you as badly, but I can’t help it, Tom! I just want to be with you all the time...play for you, be with you, make you smile, because I love you too much Tom, I love you, I love you, I love you...”

Merry drew herself into a ball to hide herself, shield her face, her tears and violent sobs that wracked her frail frame.

Tom was dumbstruck. Never had he thought Merry would actively consider such a final sacrifice of self...but then, why should he surprised? She who had struggled through such a difficult pregnancy, and at one point thought, I cannot do this alone without Tom’s support any longer...but stopped, saw what he was doing with his career, and chose not to disturb him, after all.

“Meredith Yvette Skye,” he spoke gravely and firmly, as he gently took her so his lips were right by her ear, even as he held her body close. “I want you to listen carefully to every word I say. It hurts me so badly to think of you no longer living I can scarcely breathe. But I would rather have that pain, and I would welcome it, if it means having spent every moment to your last breath with you. Darling, we all die someday, and none of us know when it will be. I want to have every possible second, every experience, every joy and every sadness, every song and every silence, at your side.” Merry began to slowly unfold herself, like a flower, at his words. Encouraged, he continued.

“Don’t you see? If you push me away, should you die, I will by lost in despair not only because I am grieving your passing, but the loss of every possibility, every opportunity for intimacy that we could have shared, but all I would have to look back on is emptiness, and bitter loneliness. If you die tomorrow or fifty years from now, I would much rather my grief be tempered by the rich memories of all we shared together. My mourning won’t be sharper for having been close to you. Forcing us apart will not dull it.”

Tears were streaming down both their faces, Tom cupping Merry’s in his hands, Merry wiping his tears away with the back of her fingers.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry...”

Tom stopped her apologies with his lips, kissing her deeply for the first time in five years, kissing her the way he’d longed to but was afraid to do so. He pressed her slight body to his and discovered that while her frame was smaller, and sadly much thinner than he remembered, it was still unmistakably still very much Merry’s. She responded the same way. Kissed and sighed the same way. Aroused him the same way.

“Dear God Merry,” he groaned. “I was a fool to walk away, and I swear I am never going to do it again.”

“Bold of you to assume I would let you,” Merry replied fiercely, recapturing him for another searing kiss.

Tom returned to the apartment in a dazed but very good mood that lasted through Liam’s bath time, book readings, and even his own bedtime that had been turbulent as of late. As much as he enjoyed The Secret Mama Movie, it did not soothe him like it did his son, and some nights he found sleep elusive, and dreams unsettling. But this night, he was able to relax, find sleep with ease, and his dreams were peaceful, giving him much needed rest.

Third Selection: https://youtu.be/QicCnLFR4Rk OR https://open.spotify.com/track/0iGFvoTYLKGfZstM4JH6yc?si=zxQn3okFQnmK9IhkqrXMFQ

His phone rang as he and Aiden were settling Liam down to breakfast and they were propping themselves up with their selected forms of morning caffeine. Tom wasn’t alarmed, he had calls coming from London at this hour frequently...until he saw who was calling.

He jumped away from the table as quickly as he could without upsetting Liam. “Hello?”

Kelly’s voice was tired and placating. “Now Tom, there’s no need to panic.”

“Too late,” he sang through gritted teeth as he walked into his bedroom to hastily check his appearance and grab his keys and wallet.

“Merry began to exhibit signs of cytokine release syndrome early this morning, and now there is no doubt. Remember, we talked about this being a possibility. Her immune system is going haywire, and her symptoms are as though she has a bad case of the flu...”

“I’m leaving now.”

“Tom, we are treating her with—”

“I’m leaving now.” He hung up.

He came back to the breakfast table, all smiles and calm.

Liam looked up from his toast and eggs, mildly interested, Aiden’s eyes were much more sharp. “Tom? What’s up?”

“Oh, it was Doctor Kelly. Mama isn’t feeling her best this morning, so she thought she would let me know now, so I could come in early and cheer her up. Liam, what do you think Mama would like?” Tom kept his voice light while he rapidly texted Aiden:

cytokine release syndrome—will text ASAP.

Aiden nodded as Liam answered seriously, “Hugs. Mama says hugs always make her feel better.”

Tom crouched by Liam’s chair. “Hugs, got it. Why don’t you give me a great big one right now so I can pass it along to Mama, all right?”

“But Papa, you haven’t had your breakfast yet, and didn’t finish your tea,” Liam protested as his buried his face in Tom’s warm wool coat.

“Oh, that’s because I want to see Mama now I know she’s feeling poorly. I want to cheer her up as quickly as I can,” Tom responded, kissing Liam on the top of his head then touching the tip of his nose. 

“Remember when you woke up with that bad cold?” Aiden distracted Liam as Tom gathered his backpack. “You certainly wanted to be cheered up...”

“See you soon, family,” Tom warmly waved at everyone, and gently closed the door.

Then he made quick work of the distance between himself and the hospital, walking as fast as his legs could carry him.

When he reached Merry’s floor, he was intercepted by Kelly.

“Tom, I tried to tell you before you so rudely hung up on me, we are treating her quite aggressively with tocilizumab. It is very effective and we hope it will help her very quickly.”

“You hope? How bad is she? Let me see her...”

“That’s...not quite a good idea right now.”

“What?! Why not?”

Kelly made an exasperated sound, then took Tom’s hand and gently pulled him from the hall into a quiet room.

“Tom, she has a very high fever right now. As a result, she is confused, maybe even delirious. She is also in pain, so we’ve given her morphine, which might add to the confusion. We’ve also started her on oxygen. She’s probably not even going to know you’re there, and I think seeing her in this condition is going to be very upsetting for you. If you can wait a few hours for the tocilizumab to kick in, I think it would be a lot easier...”

“No, Kelly. I swore I was going to be there for her, no matter what. If there is even a chance my presence will soothe her, I’m taking it. Thank you for thinking of me, but I want to see her.”

She sighed, and ran her hand through her hair, which was running down her back instead of being neatly tied back in a bun as usual.

“All right Tom. She also has a rash, which will fade soon...just don’t panic, okay? We have her hooked up to every monitor you can imagine, so we are watching her very closely. I don’t want to move her to ICU because we are all trained here in dealing with this.”

Tom tersely agreed and bolted, leaving Kelly sighing heavily. She often felt she was taking care of not only the patient, but their loved ones as well. It had been a long night. Merry had started mentioning a headache around midnight, and began deteriorating around two in the morning. Kelly was slightly surprised that she was succumbing to CRS so early, usually patients would start showing symptoms a little later after infusion if they were going to have this complication, but...she sighed. Merry fell critically ill so rapidly, Kelly was privately concerned that one dose would not be sufficient to control Merry’s symptoms.

Kelly leaned forward to rest her tired head in her hands. Merry quickly developed issues with her oxygen saturation levels on room air...Kelly already had a ventilator in the room, ready to be put into use if necessary, she also flooding Merry with steroids, medications to keep her blood pressure from dropping, her heart working at its best...her fever was so high Kelly was also watching for signs of organ failure. She felt twinges of guilt for not informing Tom that Merry’s kidney and liver functions were already starting to show signs of stress...no. Not yet. Tom was already so very pale, his face and body so rigid.

“Please God please,” Kelly sighed, as she looked up to the ceiling, her eyes burning with weariness, “can you cut this one a break? I mean, cut all my patients a break, but today, especially this one?”

Tom walked into Merry’s room, and involuntarily stopped at the sight that met his eyes.

Merry was lying propped up, oxygen mask strapped to her face once more, surrounded by all sorts of machinery that was not there when he left her side last night just last night, none of this was here when I kissed her goodnight... Monitors. Oxygen tanks. More IV bags. A bag of what was clearly blood, what was that about...? Beeps and hushed whooshing sounds. Tubes where there had been none before.

“Merry?” He set his bag down, and took her hand in his and was shocked at how hot it was. Tentatively, he leaned over to kiss her forehead and found it scorching beneath his lips. “Merry? Darling? It’s your Tom, sweetheart. I’m here, love.”

She did not respond right away, but after he called to her a few more times, her eyes opened. They were bleary and unfocused. “Tom...”

“Yes darling...Liam sends you great big hugs...”

She blinked at him, and her face was confused. She didn’t answer him, and he felt a cold fist reach into his chest and clutch his heart painfully.

“I love you, Mozart...God, I love you so much...”

“No...strings...”

He was almost gasping in fear now. “Merry, no. All the strings in the world. Cellos. Violins. Violas...” he wracked his brain, trying to remember what other instruments were part of the string section of the orchestra, Merry had taught him this ages ago, c’mon Hiddleston, think! “Um, harp. Double bass. Piano...”

“...no...”

“What’s that, darling?”

“Piano’s not..strings, Hidd’l’son...how m’ny times...hafta...tell you...” she sighed.

Tom’s face broke into a delighted smile that could rival the sun for its brightness. Oh, she was still in there.

“Nonetheless...all the strings, Mozart. All the strings in the world.”

Her eyes, still cloudy, opened wider. “Really, Tom?”

He picked up her hot hand again, and kissed it. “Yes, darling. Throw out that ridiculous ‘no strings’ rule we made. I could never leave you, you are so beautifully woven into my heart and soul with strings made of love and music and light.”

Merry’s eyes began to close again, but she was smiling, and a tear trickled from the corner of each eye.

“Tears? What are these, Mozart?” He brushed them away with his thumb.

“Secret...I have...a..ssssecr’t, Tommm...” She was slurring her words now. He pushed fear back again.

“Tell me, darling. I promise to hold it safe for you,” he murmured lovingly.

She opened her eyes as best she could and fought to focus on his smiling blue ones, battled like a warrior to remain anchored to them and him as she murmured, “...g’na...be...a daddy...”

He couldn’t breathe, but he could lean forward and whisper in her ear, “Yes, and I couldn’t be happier, my love. We are going to have such an amazing family.”

She couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer, but the faint smile remained as  she softly hummed in her throat, and drifted back out.

Tom kept her hand in his, even as his knees gave way and he fell into the chair beside him, and he let the tears come. 

He sat, and waited. He texted Aiden. He texted his mother. He texted Luke, who was back in London.

He did the unthinkable, and was still. He tried not to think of how devastating, how fatal, this syndrome could be...

Days passed. Merry hung in a strange, fevered limbo. Sometimes all she could do was look into Tom’s eyes. She would try to speak, but no words would come out.

“Don’t,” he would always soothe her. “You don’t have to say a word, Mozart. All you have to do is keep breathing. Please, Mozart, just keep breathing, all right?”

Sometimes that would elicit a smile, but often she would simply close her eyes again.

He never stopped holding her hand.

Aiden was almost frantic. Tom would come back to the apartment to shower, change, and see Liam, who wanted his Papa, and Aiden would sit with Merry. Between the two men, she was never alone, as a neighbor would stay with Liam for the brief transit times.

Aiden and Tom decided it was best that Liam not be told how ill Merry was. All they explained was that Mama’s body was so tired she was doing a lot of sleeping, and Mama wasn’t talking very much, but of course she loved him as strongly as ever. That her love for him never got tired. And that both men were positive when Mama slept, she dreamed of being with him.

Machines screeched, indicating the end of their infusion cycles...new bags were hung...Alarms warned her blood pressure was low, even as her heart still beat steadily on...

Tom was resting his head on the side of Merry’s bed when she became fretful, moaning low in her throat, which was more that Tom could bear. Her head and limbs began to twitch. Was this the beginning of a seizure...? Tom used the call button, and was halfway through texting Kelly in a panic when she and a nurse appeared. He did not need to speak, they could see why he had summoned them. Kelly rapidly ordered a bolus of morphine, and once it was administered, Merry calmed immediately.

Kelly assessed her as Tom, white-faced and shaken, stood to the side, uncharacteristically silent.

The doctor shook her head. “Tom, I am sorry you had to see that. But believe it or not, she is actually showing signs of improvement. Her fever is beginning to go down. What you saw was a reaction to her becoming more alert. We are going to stay on top of her pain, and I am going to continue giving her the same treatment. I’m very happy her breathing has improved. I’m going to remove the rebreathing mask she has on and replace it with a nasal cannula and see how she does. Again, I’m so sorry you were frightened, and I’m sorry she was in pain.”

Kelly moved quickly to have the cannula placed, and bluntly ordered Tom to get something to eat and drink. He balked, but Kelly was not to be swayed. “Tom, you’ve been here for hours. Do it. Don’t make me get nasty. I have your number. I swear I will be right where I can see her. Go.”

He left under protest, inhaled a lunch and water, and grabbed some fruit and another bottle of water to bring back to Merry’s room. He found Kelly propping herself up in Merry’s doorway with a portable desk, busily working with a computer.

“Kelly, do you ever go home?” Tom asked her, giving her a hug. He had grown very fond of Merry’s physician. She was as kind as she was thorough, and she always made sure Tom and Merry (mostly Tom) understood what was going on, what the benefits were, what the possible risks were, and how those risks would be addressed. Her compassion and intelligence shone through in every word and action.

“Oh, honey, this is my home,” she answered, her drawl thicker than usual. “The staff and patients and family, they are my family. I have a place where I sleep, of course, but this is where I live. Home is where the heart is, and this is where my heart beats, as many hours of the day as I can manage...our Merry has been resting the whole time, sweet as can be.” Kelly stopped to stretch her arms over hear head. Tom could almost feel her exhaustion. 

“Her temperature is still higher than I’d like, but creeping on down...I told that fever it needs to knock it off and let go...” she yawned, “Excuse me. I promise you I’m awake. Just need some coffee. It was a busy night.”

“Why don’t you get some, then,” Tom gently encouraged her. “From the coffee shop downstairs, not here. Do it. Don’t make me get nasty,” he mimicked her from earlier.

“You cheeky rascal,” she laughed. “Still, I think I’ll do just that. Be right back.”

Tom entered Merry’s room, and took his usual spot. He felt comfortable enough to open his tablet and try to focus on email, her hand in his as always.

“Tom?”

He bolted upright. “Merry.”

Her eyes looked a little more focused. “Tom...you’ve been...all this time? I’ve...strangest dreams...”

He went to stroke her forehead and felt a bolt of wild pleasure to find it cooler than it had been. Still quite feverish, but not as volcanic as it had been. “Yes, darling. I’ve been here. Is there anything I can do for you? A cool cloth, or would you like your headphones?”

Her eyes flickered around. “We’re in...New York.”

“Yes, sweetling.”

“Liam is...”

“Liam is safe, with Aiden.” Tom checked his watch. “Right now they are probably enjoying a walk around the park.”

“Ducks?”

“I’m not sure if they will find any ducks, love. It’s quite cold outside.”

Merry’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. Tom saw so much of Liam’s expression in Merry’s face, for all that Liam bore his features. “It’s fine, Merry. Relax. You don’t need to figure it out. Just rest.”

Merry looked into his eyes again. “I love you, Tom.”

His heart swelled with that simple, honest statement. “And I love you, Merry.” He gently squeezed her hand, then brought it to his lips. He kissed the back of her hand, then her inner wrist, by the palm of her hand, remembering how that intimate touch always made her shiver.

He was rewarded by a deep, slow sigh. “Ohhhh...that’s nice...”

“Rest, darling.”

Her eyes were almost closed but they opened again. “You and I...good together, aren’t we.” It wasn’t a question, rather a calm statement of fact. Tom remembered Clara saying how morphine acted as a truth serum for Merry, and recalled how she was given a dose right before he left to eat.

“I think so, yes, Merry. I think you and I are very good together.”

She hummed, indicating she was thinking. “I’ve often thought...everyone has...own set of musical notes..pianissimo...vibrato...forte...’s why some...never get along...dissonance, they clash...but you’n’I, with Liam...made something very special...’m list’nin’ for it...maybe hear it, in my mind, an’ write it down...yes. I’d like that...” Her eyes were closing again. Tom was amused. Undoubtedly the morphine was talking.

“Is this where I get to say we make beautiful music together?” His smile was roguish.

Her eyes opened halfway, she pulled her hand away so she could slowly, deliberately, lift her middle finger.

His laughter was music to her ears as she fell back asleep.

Fourth Selection: https://youtu.be/3qOeNnhUb4A OR https://open.spotify.com/track/1tUeaAwcZK4S1CUDtDwJDc?si=fDDUFnfWTLC1eg9Fxi1LWw

It was ten days later, and Kelly’s face was unbearably smug.

Merry was sitting in her bed, without any drips, or cannulas. She was dressed in her own clothes, although they were brand new, as Tom, Aiden, and Liam had gone shopping for her. Today Tom brought her a new pair of warm leggings, jeans, a thermal henley and a sweatshirt. Liam chose the sweatshirt, which explained the design: staff lines with Snoopy posing as the musical notes. Apparently, Liam had seen it and would have nothing else for his mother. Thick warm socks completed the outfit.

“Meredith Yvette Skye. Your temperature is a lovely 98.8. Your oxygen sats on room air is 96%, perfect. Blood pressure, 90/60. Still so low, honey, but I’ll take it, we’ll be watching you to make sure you don’t slip any lower. You have an amazing red blood cell count, my dear—no more anemia. Let that sink in for a moment,” she paused and gave Merry a beatific smile, “because I think you realize what that means.”

Merry was flushed, but not in the way Tom had seen recently. This wasn’t a fever flush, but the deep flush of pleasure he hadn’t seen since...well. He shifted a bit. Merry was uncharacteristically fidgeting, her fingers aimlessly wiggling, playing on...nothing.

“Merry.” Kelly’s voice was soft, and tender. “Why don’t you explain to Tom what’s going on inside your body right now.”

Merry faced Tom, her face and voice unexpected...shy?

“My red blood cells are not only replenishing themselves naturally, but the ones  I was given via transfusion aren’t being crowded out by leukemia cells. Because right now, well, there aren’t any. Leukemia cells, you see.”

Tom’s eyes grew large. “You mean...you...you’re in remission? It’s over? You’re cured?”

He was springing up to triumphantly swoop Merry into his arms, but Kelly physically interposed herself between them. “Whoa, whoa, whoa there, sir. I wish we could jump straight to that conclusion, but we aren’t there just yet! Let’s just say this is an extremely promising first step. Extremely promising. And considering Merry’s condition when she first arrived, I’d say it is just this side of miraculous. But there is still a long road ahead of her.”

As she watched his face fall, Kelly felt as though she’d just kicked a puppy.

Merry stood, and walked to stand directly in front of Tom.

“Tom? Look at me.”

As he raised his face, he tried to hide his disappointment from her, but she knew him too well. “Give me your hand.”

Puzzled, he did so.

She took it, and placed it over her heart, as she placed hers over his.

“Concentrate on this. Do you feel it? Because this is all we’ve got. It’s all we are ever promised. One day, one moment, one breath, one heartbeat at a time. And as I am standing here, I can honestly tell you that I am feeling better, feeling stronger, than I have felt in months...hell, in years. I never felt this good on Roths’ protocol, or after any of the other chemotherapies or radiation treatments. They just left me feeling weak and tired.

“So I am going to enjoy this moment. And then the next. And the one after that. As many as I have. And I hope to share every single one of them with you, and Liam.

“Because I know I've still got a lot of fight left in me.”

Tom blinked, his tears of happiness falling without shame.

“I’ve never doubted your determination, Merry...and that sounds like the best idea I’ve heard in a very long time.” He held her hand close to his heart, his famous smile shining just for her.

“Well, then...” Merry turned to face her doctor, “Kelly, I’d like to go home now.”

Kelly nodded, fighting back her own tears. “You do that. Just...don’t go far, you hear? I’ll email you an appointment schedule...but take your instruments, and head home, Vivaldi.”

“No,” said Tom tenderly. “That’s my Mozart.”

“Just make sure you take it easy,” warned Kelly.

Merry stood carefully on tiptoe and kissed Tom’s lips softly. “I will. I have a live symphony to compose, I think. And this one will definitely have strings.”

TAGGING: Lifetime Memberships @hopelessromanticspoonie​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @just-the-hiddles​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @winterisakiller​ @theheartofpenelope​

Symphony Season Ticket Holders: @jessiejunebug​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @scorpionchild81​ @tinchentitri​ @theoneanna​ @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi​ @blacksuitofdoom​ @mishaandthebrits​ @wegingerangelica​n @rjohnson1280​ @ms-cellanies​ @noplacelikehome77​ @villainousshakespeare​

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 50

Chapter Summary - Tom decides to get the last few bits of shopping, and hopes bringing Emma with him will clear the air, leading to arguments between the usually close siblings. While that occurs, Danielle decides to go trail biking, but with her mind on Tom and the situation with Emma, she is not paying full attention to her surrounds, leading to potentially dangerous outcomes

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously

After 100,000 words we are finally to chapter 50, what will happen when Emma is finally confronted.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @lys-syl @youcantcatchafallingstar

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

“Tom?” Diana looked at her son, “Are you alright, Sweetheart?”

Tom forced himself out of his head. “Yeah, I am just thinking about what I need to do today.”

“And what does that include?”

“Get one or two more things, wrap a few presents and see if Danielle wants to go out for a while, you?”

“Well, I saw her walking off a while ago with Mac and her bike, so I think she will be gone for a bit, I have to get a few last bits for the dinner tomorrow, do not tell me you left gifts until the last minute again?”

“Mum, that was three years ago, I was working until the day before Christmas Eve and I don’t know why you are going on about it, I got you that nice perfume you have not stopped wearing since.”

“It is true. What have you gotten Danielle?”

“I got her a surprise,” he replied cryptically.

“Thomas, please tell me you have not waited until last minute to get that girl her present.” His mother half pleaded.

“I haven’t.”

“Thomas…”

“I have most of it.”

“Oh for goodness sake Tom, you are just like your father.”

“Well with the hours she works, how do you know Elle has anything done for me?” He challenged with a cheeky smile.

“Do you honestly think that that pathetic attempt at getting me to tell you what she got you will work?” Diana laughed, causing Tom’s face to fall. “Not going to happen son of mine, and with regards what she got you, she has it gotten with a month.”

“You know what it is?” Tom asked excitedly.

“But of course I do. I am the matriarch of this family, I keep an eye on everything.” his mother smiled.

“What is it?”

“Do you think I would tell you?”

“Is it good?”

“It is exactly something you would love.” she declared, “That is all you are getting, so get your ass in gear and get the rest of hers.”

“Right, I’ll ask Em if she wants to come.” Tom grinned, walking back into the house. Diana nodded in approval as she went about her own business.

*

“What do you think?” Tom asked excitedly as he held up the item in hand.

“It’s a scarf, Tom.” Emma snapped back. “Is that all you are getting her or am I going to have to endure this for the day.”

Tom looked at the scarf for another moment, having checked online to see if it was even available in shops and not from ordering online and was elated when he realised it was for sale near his mother’s. Making the decision to add it to Danielle’s gifts he already got her, he turned and brought it to the till. When he paid, he walked out of the shop and went back to his car without waiting for Emma. With a sour face, Emma got in next to him. “What the hell is your problem Emma, you need to spit it out now since you didn’t have the decency to speak to me or Danielle regarding it before now, instead you just act like a spoilt brat. We get it, it is a little weird for you, but are you actually that spiteful that you would allow yourself to be the reason that not one, but two people you say you care about be unhappy?” he started up the car and revved the engine before driving towards their next stop.

“Neither of you asked me,” she started.

“Why would we, what would we even ask? We are two responsible adults, we can’t ask anyone about how we feel for one another, there is nothing to ask. We wanted to tell you ourselves, same as with mum, but she got to you first, and for that, I really am sorry, that is not the way to find out, but for fuck sake Emma, we are not going to stop loving each other just because you are getting bratty.”

“She was my friend, you had the choice of every woman in the world and you chose her.” Emma shouted at him, tears in her eyes, “It ruined everything, I thought I had one friend that actually cared about me, and was not trying to use me to get to you, and now I can’t even have that.”

“‘Was’? So that’s it, she is cast aside because, in addition to being your best friend, she is not permitted to love me, is that it? Your friends cannot love more than one Hiddleston, there’s a fucking quota because you know how mum feels about her, and how she feels with regards mum, why is that different to her and me?”

“Because one of you will fuck it up, and she will never speak to me again.”

“So, because we are not perfect, cut her loose before she leaves, is that the plan? She adores you Em, she sees you as a sister.”

“Well, then she shouldn’t have even considered you then, should she?”

“She never saw me and Sarah the same way she saw you, she adores you, and you doing this is breaking her heart.”

“Not enough for her to stop it.”

“If you dare ask her to, then you don’t deserve her friendship. No real friend would ever make such an ultimatum.” Tom growled. “And the mere idea you would do that to someone I love sickens me.”

“You are with one another a few weeks, it’s not love, Tom.”

Tom pulled in and glared at her. “I do not need to explain myself to you, but here it is, I have been in love with Elle since before your wedding,” Emma stared at him in shock. “It was in the preparations for which, when I was spending more time than I ever had before in her company, I realised she was the most amazing, brilliant and beautiful woman I had ever known and when I saw her in that dress, I, to this day, regret not pulling her aside and kissing her. I love her Emma, and she says she loves me too, and I believe her, so stop being a selfish bitch and ruining everyone's Christmas. As Elle had to say to me not too long ago, get over yourself.” Emma said nothing for a minute, instead she just stared out the window. “And why the fuck do you think this would ever end, much less in a manner that would mean your friendship being in jeopardy?”

“Because you sabotage every relationship you ever had, well the ones before Taylor, that joke doesn’t count. As soon as you get the first hint of trouble, you run, and this time, you cannot, Elle lives next to mum, you can’t avoid her when this is done.”

“I don’t want it to be ‘done’, I love her, I have not loved anyone in years.”

“You loved Susannah.”

“We were young and wanted entirely different things in life, I loved her, but not like I love Elle, we were not compatible.”

Emma scoffed, still looking out the window. “And you think you and Elle are?”

“We’ve spoken about what we want, and yes, they are somewhat similar, I know she prefers the country, yet she knows I need to be near the city, so I will happily move to a leafy suburb if it would make her happy and make the commute into town when needed, we discussed that and she was happy with it,”

“And I can imagine the whole kid's conversation going so smoothly.”

“Two,” She turned to face Tom. “Well, I wanted three, but she doesn’t want more than she has hands to hold, so,” he shrugged.

“You spoke to her about this?”

“Yes, you don’t seem to be getting this Emma, I want to be with her, I want with her what Ben and Sophie have, what you and Sarah both have, I want that, and Elle is the only woman I have looked at and thought that she would be the one I will have that with, that she is who I will be happy with, every time I am with her, I feel so much like how I used to be before all the world was staring, normal, happy. You would have noticed if you bothered to even speak to us, to be around us. I genuinely thought you would be happy for us, she has been so hurt that you have given her the cold shoulder, that you won’t talk to her.”

Emma sighed. “I’m sorry.” Tom looked at her. “I’m sorry I got bratty, are you happy?”

“That is not what you have to apologise for Emma.”

“I am sorry I did not simply voice my upset and went and said what I said.” she clarified, “Better?”

“Yes.” Tom indicated for the car to go back into traffic again. “We care about you Em, we wanted to talk to you about this.”

“Well, hearing from mum wasn’t the best way to find out.” She looked out the window again. “I can’t believe you talked about kids. Danielle never said whether or not she wanted any.”

“What? She doesn’t want kids?”

“I never said she didn’t want any, I said she never made mention of it either way. Oh my God, she could end up marrying you and being my sister-in-law.”

“You’ll be a shoo-in for maid of honour.” Tom joked.

“If that happened, she could end up having your baby.” Emma looked him up and down in disgust.

“Would that be a bad thing?” Tom laughed.

“My best friend, pregnant with my brother’s baby, what do you think?”

“Well as said brother, if it were to happen in the future, I would think it would be a very happy thing.”

“It’s weird, Tom.”

“I promise you’d be Godmother.” he smiled.

“Over Sarah?”

“Yep.”

“Fine.” Tom looked over to see Emma looking at him with a big smile on her face, “I’ll apologise to Elle when we get back.”

“She will cry with happiness Emma, she misses you so much, she feels lost without you there.”

“What can I say, I am just that fabulous.”

“When you are not being an annoying little brat, you might just be.” Tom smiled, relieved to be finally able to have Elle and Emma talking again, and in turn, hopefully, lift that dark cloud he had noticed over Elle.

*

Danielle knew she was pushing herself too much, she knew she was going too fast, too deep in the woodland and that she would ache more for it tomorrow, but frustration and hurt built and built, until finally, she was splashing her way through the woodland trail, mud staining her face, arms and legs, and if she could see the back of her cycling jacket, that too.

Emma had asked she have her brother for a time, there was nothing wrong with that, she had had him for a fortnight straight, but the idea of spending Christmas day away from him and everyone else she considered family, hurt; she felt incredibly isolated and alone. She had distant relatives in Ireland, but they were never close, so why would she go to them. Perhaps for a while, she and Tom could go for a walk, she wanted to give him his present, she would only have to wait and see.

She realised then that Mac was not in front of her any longer and turned her head slightly to see if he was behind her, seeing him in the distance, she pulled on the brakes to get the bike to stop, but her peculiar angle caused the bike to skid sideways. Putting her hands out, she fell to the ground with a painful thud, the sound of Mac barking frantically as he rushed over to her and the clouded sky above her the only two things she could focus on as she lay there.

[admiralty-xfd]

Culmination

This is Chapter 4. To start at the beginning go here.

DEMARCATION I

(The End)

SCULLY

Diana Fowley.

Diana Fowley.

Even the sound of her name feels disgusting in her mouth.

Scully is not an idiot. She knows where these feelings are coming from. She’s always been territorial of Mulder, whether she’s willing to admit it or not. The thought of him having had any kind of personal, romantic relationship with some other woman feels foreign to her. It’s a side of him she rarely has to see or even think about.

Phoebe Green leaps to her mind, the only other woman she’s ever had to imagine linked romantically to Fox Mulder, her Fox Mulder. At the time it felt nonsensical for her to imagine that kind of claim over him. They’d been through a lot together even then, but it was silly to think of him that way. They weren’t dating. They weren’t having sex. They weren’t anything other than friends, work partners. She convinced herself she was being ridiculous and pushed those feelings aside. After a few days Phoebe Green was gone, out of both of their lives, and Scully’s thoughts rarely drifted there again.

But there’s something new lurking deep inside her now. This time, it feels different. Her stomach is full of knots and she feels ill. She’s terrified of the feelings this other woman has stirred inside her. Diana Fowley has had Mulder in a way that feels deeply personal: they discovered the X Files together. When the Lone Gunmen informed her of this, it was like a punch to the gut. The quest Scully and Mulder are on had actually begun with this other woman and it feels almost like a betrayal.

Why hasn’t Mulder ever mentioned her before? Had they been as close as she is with him? Has he shared things with her that he hasn’t shared with Scully? What was their partnership like?

Scully isn’t typically a jealous person, but something about Diana Fowley brings it out in her. And this jealousy is forcing her to confront the feelings she has for Mulder more intensely. She isn’t in any way ready to deal with this right now.

The Gunmen hadn’t elaborated much, and she hadn’t really wanted them to. It was embarrassing enough having to go to them in the first place about this. She couldn’t ask Mulder because she felt she knew the answer and didn’t want to hear him say it. But the Gunmen had said enough for her to know what she needed to know about the exact nature of this past relationship; this past relationship that has exploded into their present. This past relationship that is threatening their future. She isn’t sure how real the threat is at the moment but she doesn’t want to find out.

The jealousy, however, is real. She doesn’t recognize herself. It’s not like her to be thinking these things. Things like:

Diana Fowley probably buys everything Mulder sells to her. She probably subscribes to every theory, agrees with every notion.

And:

I’ll bet he likes that. I’ll bet he eats that up. It’s been a while.

Also:

She calls him “Fox.” And he lets her. Ugh.

“You really don’t like her, do you? That other girl.”

The small voice comes from the other side of the motel room and it’s a statement, not a question. It startles her. Scully has been so deep in thought she’d forgotten she’s in a room with a mind reader. She doesn’t want to believe it’s even possible Gibson Praise can read minds but she knows he can. How else could this little boy know what she’s thinking, how she’s feeling?

She sighs. “I guess I can’t lie to you, can I, Gibson?”

“She doesn’t like you, either.”

Scully doesn’t need a mind-reader to tell her this.

“I know, you probably don’t need me to tell you that.”

“Hey, Gibson? Any way I can ask you to cut that out for a bit?”

He shakes his head no. “I’m sorry, Agent Scully, I really would if I could. Believe me.” He turns his attention back to the television and she considers letting it go, but something makes her keep talking.

“This is all very personal, and complicated, and… grown up. I know you’re a very smart kid, but you are still a kid.”

He rolls his eyes. “I may be a kid, but I’ve seen enough ‘Friends’ to know what’s going on with you three.”

They sit in silence. Well, what’s silence to Scully. To Gibson, everything must be louder than life. The elephant in the room is large and in charge, and now that it’s been mentioned it’s nearly impossible for her to think about anything else.

She wonders if Gibson has taught himself how to do this, like a fisherman, extracting whatever thoughts he’s interested in like some special kind of magnet. Or perhaps he’s not interested in any of this at all, and her feeble excuse for a love life is just another television channel he can’t shut off.

“You like ‘Friends?’” She desperately tries to change the subject, put something in her mind other than thoughts that will make both of them uncomfortable.

“Yeah, it’s pretty funny.” He sounds companionable enough but he won’t face her, still looking straight ahead at the TV. She wonders if this is a tactic he uses to shut out unwanted thoughts. Maybe he can’t hear her anymore.

Which is your favorite Friend?

“Chandler probably,” he replies to the question she didn’t ask, without missing a beat. Well, so much for that.

She smiles and thinks of Emily for a brief moment. This kid reminds Scully a little bit of her. A smart, sweet kid with an entire potential future ahead of him but no one looking out for his best interests. She wonders yet again about the inherent cruelty of the world, and why some kids are subjected to it in such a way.

“You have a kid?” His voice brings her out of her dark thoughts and for the first time she’s grateful for it.

“I… did. She died though, a few months ago. I don’t really like talking about it.”

He looks truly sorry. “I’m sorry. If I’m not looking at you, it can be hard for me to tell when people are just thinking and when they’re actually talking. Especially when they say what they mean. That doesn’t happen very much.”

She smiles, finding this all so fascinating. This child is so amazing. There’s so much to be learned from him.

Her thoughts soon uncontrollably wander back to Mulder and Diana Fowley. They should be back here by now. They’re certainly together somewhere.

The jealousy rears its ugly head again. She can’t help but wonder what they’re doing, if she’s got her claws back in him yet. Maybe he’s kissing her. Maybe they’re having sex.

Stop it, stop. STOP THINKING ABOUT THINGS.

“You know, Agent Mulder really likes you a lot,” Gibson offers out of nowhere, startling her out of her uncomfortable reverie.

“Thank you, Gibson,” she says in a voice that clearly tells him that’s enough.

She does still have a job to do. She’s responsible for protecting him. She knows how important he is; probably the most important discovery she’s ever made. She can’t help but marvel that in spite of everything the poor kid is dealing with, he’s still trying to be sweet to her.

This is so embarrassing, she thinks. And Gibson knows she’s embarrassed. He knows everything. He’s just a kid. What if he’s reading other thoughts? Very private thoughts involving her and Mulder without dumb old Diana Fowley. Or even fantasies about what he looks like underneath his suits and oh god stop this, please don’t think of something inappropriate, don’t don’t don’t

“Agent Scully?”

“...Yeah?”

“I’m going to the bathroom.” He gets up and walks out of her view.

Thanks, Gibson.

The bathroom door closes and she can only hope she’s alone again. She finds it peculiar that it isn’t until you’re having your every thought read by another person you realize how precious your own thoughts are to you.

Agent Mulder really likes you a lot.

Well, of course he does. They’re good friends. Gibson, with all his abilities, can’t understand the nuances of an adult relationship, especially one as complicated as theirs. For God’s sake, even she doesn’t understand the nuances of their relationship.

Whatever she may be telling herself not to feel, she and Mulder are both young, attractive people and they’re human. It hasn’t been easy to maintain professional boundaries, but she feels like they’ve had to. Their work is too important, and taking such a step would be a huge risk. There really is no other reason they haven’t crossed that line, even hastily, recklessly. God knows she’s wanted to.

She suddenly feels a strange sadness, almost like a loss, because obviously Mulder had taken that extra step with Diana Fowley. Knowing Fox Mulder would in fact go there with his partner has made her rethink a lot of things. First of all, no wonder she hears so many rumors circulating all the time about herself and Mulder. Secondly, if the failure of his relationship with his ex is the real reason he hasn’t taken that step with her, then Diana Fowley has robbed her of that as well. And here she is again, and she has some kind of inexplicable hold on him. A kind of hold Scully doesn’t.

She refuses to be some kind of third wheel in her own partnership. She doesn’t know how long she can hang around waiting for Diana Fowley to just go away. As possessive as she feels over Mulder, she has no real claim over him. Diana Fowley doesn’t either, though. In the end it’s going to be up to Mulder. He’s going to have to make a choice between the two of them: who he can really trust.

All she can do is hope he makes the right one.

She hears the toilet flush, the sink running, and Gibson re-enters the room. Grateful for his reprieve, she tries to focus her mind on something else as he picks up the remote and starts changing channels.

MULDER

He can’t move. He can barely think. His entire life’s work is gone, all of it gone.

In the midst of the of ash and smoke, he can almost smell along with it his own blood, sweat and tears. And Scully’s. And all the victims whose cases, already buried deep in the basement with the only two people who cared, will now certainly never see any explanation or justice.

He stands there motionless for a good minute before he is even aware Scully is holding onto him, her hand on his bicep, her cheek pressed into his chest. Neither of them can speak, there is nothing to say. He knows she feels the loss, too, though it’s possible she feels it more acutely through his own pain.

This is how they survive, the two of them. This is how they carry on. Pain seeping out of one, into the other. Their burdens shared, their losses perceived by each other.

It isn’t a death, but it may as well be. The intensity of his grief and frustration becomes enough to pull him out of his trancelike state and he looks down at Scully. He wraps his arms around her and they stand there together, surrounded by firefighters and curious onlookers and the red and blue lights from the emergency vehicles outside streaming through the smoke into their charred office like some vaporous American flag.

How ironic, this institution of justice and hope and truth reduced to ashes.

The firefighters are slowly exiting, one by one. AD Skinner comes over to the two of them and rests a hand on Mulder’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he offers, glancing to Scully as well. Mulder believes he is. Skinner is probably the only other person in the building who truly understands how devastating this is to them.

“Let’s go, Mulder,” Scully says. “There’s nothing else to be done here.”

He nods and takes her hand, following her out of the office like a zombie. His mind races. Everything truly feels over now. He’d been too arrogant, too reckless in approaching the Attorney General about Gibson Praise. Gibson had disappeared and the only remaining witness, his attempted assassin, had been murdered. The cleanup that had taken place was swift and effective, executed according to plan. It became the perfect opportunity for the Justice Department to take a shot at him and Scully, at the X Files. He should have seen it all coming. He feels like a fool.

The fire was an obvious cover up if ever he saw one. He’s momentarily annoyed at its localization; how the arsonist made no effort to hide the fact that the X Files themselves were the target. Mulder knows more than anyone his work has been in danger for years, but they could have at least pretended it wasn’t such a clear cut attack against him. The hubris of that angers him even more.

Lost in his own thoughts he hasn’t realized Scully has driven him home. “Mulder.” She’s trying to get his attention. He feels dazed.

“Yeah.”

“We’re at your apartment.”

“Uh huh.”

“Do you want me to stay for a bit? Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m good. I’m okay.” He’s still just sitting there in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead.

“Are you… going to get out?”

“Out of what?”

She sighs, unbuckles her seat belt. “Come on, I’m taking you upstairs. You’re a mess.”

He somehow finds the presence of mind to open his car door and get out. He’s glad he didn’t have to ask her to stay, but he wants her there all the same.

He’s still walking slowly and distractedly behind her, so she uses her own key to let them inside. He heads straight to the couch and falls down over the armrest, face first, his feet dangling over the edge behind him. He hears Scully go into his kitchen and she returns with two beers. She pops off the caps and plops down next to his head, kicking her legs up onto his coffee table. She sighs deeply.

“What are we gonna do, Scully?”

She takes a sip of her beer and sets it on the table. “I don’t know, Mulder. We start again. We just start again.”

“There’s a zero percent chance they’ll keep the X Files open now. This fire was the final nail on the coffin. Nothing we say will change their minds.”

She’s quiet for a moment. “Do you think it’s possible someone at the Bureau did this? I mean, they’ve been trying and failing to shut us down for years. Maybe someone finally just snapped.”

“I think so.”

“Who do you think did it?”

“Spender,” he says instantly. “No doubt in my mind it was that little fucker. I should have taken his threats more seriously.” He can’t stand the guy. Going around the Bureau, kissing everyone’s asses, covering his own to protect his reputation.

Working with the cancer man.

“I don’t know, Mulder,” she muses. “Arson? It honestly seems like he doesn’t have it in him.”

He thinks for a second, and realizes she’s probably right. He’s usually good at this profiling stuff, obviously, but his annoyance and frustration with Jeffrey “Weasel” Spender has gotten too personal.

“You’re probably right.”

“We should tell the arson investigators to keep their eyes peeled for cigarette butts, though,” she suggests. She rubs his back for a moment then taps his neck, indicating he should lift his head up. He flips onto his back and scoots over a bit, resting his head in her lap. She runs her fingers through his hair with one hand, her other hand across his chest and they sit together comfortably.

“I’m still in this with you, Mulder. This is a temporary setback, okay? We have to have faith that we will continue our work.”

Mulder thinks back to another time, an even darker time about a year ago, here in his apartment, alone. A time when his faith had also been tested. A time when Scully was edging towards death, all because of him and this work.

He’d felt so alone that night, so aggrieved, so desperately responsible for what had happened to her. He’d really wanted to die. He thought he deserved it. Everything felt meaningless. He believes to this day if that DoD agent hadn’t been spying on him and revealed himself that night, he would have pulled the trigger.

He almost can’t breathe when he thinks about what would have happened if he’d given up in that moment. Scully would have died. They both would be dead, and so would their quest.

Tonight feels different because she is here with him. He could be alone right now, feeling desperate and directionless and miserable by himself. But she chose to stay. His life isn’t so lonely anymore, and for the first time he truly appreciates that fact.

He takes her hand with both of his, holding it across his chest and lays there, her other hand absently stroking his hair, listening only to their own breaths, rising and falling in sync.

“As long as I’ve still got you, it’ll be fine,” he decides. He truly believes this.

DEMARCATION II

(Fight the Future)

SCULLY

Scully’s meeting with the Office of Professional Review had not gone well. Being forced to take a step back after getting so close to something big has become her lot in life.

AD Cassidy had not been impressed with the evidence she and Mulder had brought back from Dallas. Scully had trouble explaining its significance to a room full of directors in a way they could understand and be excited about in the same way she and Mulder could. Now they don’t have the means or permission to follow up, and with the trouble they’re in, they aren’t likely to get it.

Now, not only have they removed her as Mulder’s partner, they’re trying to remove her from his life entirely. They’re sending her clear across the country to another field office with little choice in the matter. She’s amazed at their ability to do so with a single pen stroke.

Her only other option would be to quit. Either way she loses him.

They’ll do what they can, she knows it. They will move forward, in whatever way they can. They always do.

She presses the elevator button and waits. The doors open and she’s greeted by a face she’d secretly hoped she would never have to see again.

Diana fucking Fowley.

She briefly considers waiting for the next elevator, but that kind of avoidance is beneath her, childish. She purses her lips together and steps in, pressing the ground floor button. “Agent Fowley,” she says politely. “Nice to see you’re back at work.”

“Thank you, it’s good to be back.”

She can feel Fowley’s eyes upon her, and instantly regrets not stopping in the bathroom to tidy herself up. She hasn’t even showered since they got back to DC and she looks like shit. Her appearance isn’t typically something that concerns her too much, and she hates feeling this way. She hates feeling inferior to the always well put together Diana Fowley.

Scully prays the elevator stops at another floor for another passenger to end this awkwardness but God isn’t listening today.

“How’s Agent Mulder?” Fowley asks.

Scully pauses, not sure what her angle is. “He’s fine.”

“I heard through the grapevine you two are getting reassigned. I’m sorry to hear that.”

Scully is silent, not knowing what to say. I’m sure you are.

“It’s probably for the best. From what he indicated, you two haven’t been seeing much progress.”

Scully bites her tongue and stares at the doors.

Open, open, open. Please.

Apparently, Diana Fowley isn’t fucking finished. “But it must be hard, disagreeing all the time. You both must feel such a relief to be free of that. To not feel… so held back.”

She can’t continue with the silent treatment, she doesn’t want to appear impertinent. “We make it work.” Scully speaks in the present tense because Mulder is her partner, regardless of what OPR or Diana Fowley has to say about it.

Fowley scoffs. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ve got it all figured out. His passion, his drive. His mission. It’s all wonderful until you realize it’s not aligned with your own.”

She starts to feel sick, and wonders why the elevator ride never feels this long on any other day.

“Just be grateful it never went further than a work partnership. He’s tough to shake.”

Scully feels like she might actually throw up. How the hell does she know how far their relationship has gone? Every word is a dagger.

Mercifully, the elevator dings and the doors open.

“Goodbye, Agent Fowley,” Scully grits as she exits the elevator and heads through the lobby as quickly as reasonably possible towards the sweet relief of the sidewalk. She pushes the heavy door open and takes a deep breath.

She doesn’t care which direction she walks, she just has to get away from this building. Mulder had dropped her off directly from the airport and she’d planned to take a cab back to his place after the meeting, but now she doesn’t know what to do or where she should go.

How can one woman put her so off balance? Make her feel so small, so worthless? How can the words of someone she barely knows bring her down like this?

She’s suddenly questioning everything, everything she knows and trusts about Mulder, everything about their partnership, and for what? Why? Because of one woman who has had him in a way she never will.

Why did she have to take that elevator? She felt fine before she ran into her. She’d felt hopeful that something good might still come of all this.

You both must feel such relief to be free of that. Not… so held back.

Why did she say that? Had Mulder said something like that to her? It makes her ill to think they’d talked about her behind her back. What if she really is just an annoyance to him, in spite of everything he’s said? She knows he cares about her as a friend, and she’s never going to question that. But is he humoring her about their partnership? Do they even have a real partnership if he’s not being honest with her about her role within it?

She can’t change who she is to better suit his needs. She can’t become someone she isn’t, even for him. She feels inadequate, and completely powerless. Maybe it’s just her own fear and self doubt, but she’s inclined to believe what Diana Fowley is saying.

Of course he would feel that way. She’s been so stupid.

His passion, his drive. His mission. It’s all wonderful until you realize it’s not aligned with your own.

It’s taken her awhile to realize it but she knows she is passionate about this work. Maybe not for the same reasons as Mulder, but their goal is the same: uncovering the truth. What were Diana Fowley’s goals? What had she wanted that Mulder hadn’t wanted? What caused their breakup?

He’s tough to shake.

If she wasn’t sure before that Diana Fowley had ulterior motives regarding Mulder, she’s sure now. She wants to kick herself for not telling him how she felt before this woman came back into his life. It pains her to think that she might know Mulder even better than Scully does.

She knows what she has to do now. She slowly turns around and heads back towards the Hoover building for what she now knows will be one of the last times.

He’ll probably be secretly glad to be rid of her. She’s done nothing but hold him back.

MULDER

They’re splitting us up.

He knows it must be true. He and Scully have tugged at the FBI’s last remaining thread of patience, and they’ve finally had it. And just when they are finally onto something again, something big.

His thoughts return to their imprudent excursion to Dallas and what they’d discovered. They’d both seen so much, but only put the X Files in further danger of remaining closed forever. If only they had been able to turn up something concrete, something to help justify reopening them, they could get moving again. He feels so close now, closer than ever, but ever since their office went up in flames he’s been losing his resources one by one.

Now he’s about to lose his most valuable resource.

“Salt Lake City, Utah, transfer effective immediately.” Scully looks exhausted, depleted. Sad, really. She tells him she isn’t accepting the transfer, and that she’s resigned from the FBI.

“I need you on this, Scully.”

“You don’t need me, Mulder. You never have. I’ve only held you back.”

Her assertion takes him completely aback. Where the hell is this coming from? Does she really believe that after all they’ve been through? How can she not know how much he needs her?

She turns to go. He’s let her walk out on him in the past, but he’s not going to let her do it tonight. He walks after her.

“If you want to tell yourself that so you can quit with a clear conscience, you can, but you’re wrong.”

She whips around, looking angry, but mostly just defeated. “Why did they assign me to you in the first place, Mulder? To debunk your work, to reign you in, to shut you down.”

“But you saved me!” He can’t believe he has to tell her this. It’s felt so obvious to him for so long. It goes to the very core of why they are so good together. “As frustrating as it’s been sometimes, your goddamn strict rationalism and science have saved me a thousand times over.”

This is what he hasn’t been able to get across to her, because it would mean talking about Diana and all the reasons that partnership could never have worked the way he functions with Scully. He let Diana walk out on him for a hundred reasons but primarily because they could never have gotten to this place of honesty. Not like he can with Scully.

She knows it too, she knows it, and she’s still leaving him. Maybe Diana got to her, somehow. Maybe she can’t bring herself to admit to him that Diana has left her feeling weak and insufficient.

She couldn’t be more wrong.

“You kept me honest,” he tells her. He’s never been so honest with her before. Her eyes are filling with tears. She’s about to leave him, maybe forever, so he brings it home.

“You made me a whole person.”

She looks floored. She’s completely turned around now, facing him. He knows now she's needed to hear all of this, is desperate to hear it. He wonders if she’s always needed to. He’s hasn’t communicated this as well as he should have and it’s his own damn fault. He’s been so selfish for so long. She’s lost so much because of him and here she is, still seeking his approval. He feels so inadequate, so unworthy of her.

“I owe you everything, Scully, and you owe me nothing.”

It’s the truth. She could leave right now, and he’d never begrudge her that. He’d miss her endlessly, but he’d never deny her that choice, if she truly wanted it. He could never deny her anything.

“I don’t know if I want to do this alone,” he confesses. “I don’t even know if I can. And if I quit now, they win.”

He’s not sure what makes her give in, what makes her change her mind, or if she even has. She’s not one to be at a loss for words. But at this moment she can only collapse into him, resigned. She’s committed to him whether he can bring himself to believe it or not.

As he holds her close he feels something stir inside him that has lain dormant for five years. Dormant, yet vigilant. She kisses him on his forehead, a safe, tender gesture they’ve shared in the past. But he feels something inside him he hasn’t felt with her before: bravery. He wants more.

He takes her face in his hands, and makes her look at him. He looks into her eyes with new intent, something he hopes beyond hope she wants too.

She could walk out of his life at any moment. It’s now or never.

He’s not doing this to make her stay. He’s doing it because he can’t not do it anymore.

Their faces search each other’s and he draws closer and closer, slowly, the anticipation intoxicating. He knows it’s going to happen because she’s moving towards him too.

And just as he can feel her breath on his tongue she yelps and recoils.

At first he’s unsure of what happened. Did she change her mind? He was so sure it had felt right.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. He wouldn’t want her to think he’d taken advantage.

“No,” she reassures him. “Something stung me.” She reaches back behind her neck and pulls the offending interloper from inside her collar.

A bee.

He wants to laugh at the irony. The bee is there because of him, and now it’s completely ruined his moment.

Goddamnit. Why is the universe making this so hard for them?

“It must have gotten in your shirt,” he says quietly, the disappointment still painfully present.

“Mulder? Something’s wrong.”

You’re goddamn right something’s wrong. We should be making out right now.

But she looks afraid. She starts to grab onto him for support, slowly sliding down to the floor. She’s listing off all her symptoms to him, ever the doctor. He tries to remember everything in case she’s unable to tell the paramedics… oh god, he has to call the ambulance.

He lays her down gently and runs back to his phone to report an agent down. When he returns, she appears almost completely incapacitated.

“Scully? Hey, Scully?” He holds her cheek and moves the hair from her face. “Don’t do this, come on. I’m getting you to a hospital.” He wraps his arms underneath her and hoists her up. She’s gone completely limp and this hold is not going to work. He turns her in his arms until he’s cradling her, lifts her up, and starts to head towards the elevator.

As he emerges from his building, he hears the sirens approaching. Thank god. The paramedics  jump out of the ambulance and help Mulder place her onto a gurney.

“Scully, the paramedics are here. I’ll be right behind them, okay? I’m coming.”

He starts frantically telling the paramedics her symptoms and mentions the virus he’s certain has caused this. As he approaches the driver’s seat to ask which hospital they’re taking her to, everything goes black.

Thanks for reading! See you back here tomorrow for chapter five, or you can continue reading on A03.

[gotatext]

TASK OO1 / OOC SURVEY.

[kermit voice] hallo.... its me 

YOUR ALIAS & NICKNAMES — nora

AGE — 23

TIMEZONE — gmt

PREFERRED PRONOUNS — she/her

MBTI — enfp-infp border cos im an introvert who Masquerades as an extrovert :)

HP HOUSE — i spent 10 yrs of my life thinkin i was gryffindor.... to find out.... huffle....puff...... 

ARE YOU A STUDENT? WHAT DO YOU STUDY? — i fuckin wish! being a student was dope af i got stressed about essays like once a month and apart from that i was just chillin, surrounded by really intelligent people every day n livin it up on the party scene. adult life fucking sucks no one wants to have fun cos we all work fuckin tonnes of hours so we can afford to eat and get paid peanuts xx

ARE YOU ENJOYING IT? — im really afraid of bein one of those jock types who peaked in high school but i deff peaked in uni like 100% i was way more interesting 2 years ago

LINKS TO OTHER ACCOUNTS & SOCIAL MEDIA — im not showin u my instagram bc im a fuckin embarassment but this is pinterest , this is my personal blog, this is my writing / 1x1 blog i never use any more n this is my trash talking twitter where i mostly just cry about timothee chalamet and bash the tories. 

DISCORD USER — kristine’s forehead vein#8664

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE FICTION GENRE? — i dont read fanfiction much but when i do u can be sure it’s slow burn angsty enemies to lovers mutual pining heart attack every time one of them accidentally brushes the other’s hand

TOP FIVE FAVOURITE FILMS — suspiria (2018 luca guadagnino version rogue i kno but i prefer the remake), the lobster, before sunrise, baz luhrmann romeo + juliet, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind,  thoroughbreds (REC!! so underwatched pls watch it. compelling female characters), hunt for the wilderpeople (also so underwatched), swiss army man, call me by your name, atonement, moonrise kingdom, trainspotting, the florida project. i rlly like films ok

A BOOK YOU FEEL “CHANGED” YOU? — the song of achilles by madeline miller n also fen by daisy johnson

A MOVIE YOU THINK ABOUT OFTEN? — booksmart cos its fuckin dope

WHAT IS YOUR SIGN? — libra

ARE YOU INTO ASTROLOGY? —  i like to pretend im super invested in it mostly to anger my friends but tbh.... i just use it as a rough guide for character creation.... its fun but i dnt .... fully invest in what it has to say..... altho i am the most unbalanced n indecisive bitch on earth so i guess they got that right !! i just live to please baybeyy!

WHAT PLATFORMS HAVE YOU ROLEPLAYED ON? — tumblr for about 8 year (omg) n before tht facebook..... i was very embarassingly in a twilight rp..... i wrote jane..... i also rped as a scene kid oc n when i was like 12 i was on some weird forum harry potter roleplay where i basically played a self insert with georgie henley as the fc......

WHAT OTHER HOBBIES DO YOU HAVE? — i used to have so many hobbies but now i jst lie in my bed staring at the ceiling. but before i was workin like a dog i loved reading, writing, acting in theatre productions..... going out on the town getting bevved..... big druggy EDM nights in warehouses tht probably weren’t liscenced for tht many ppl..... gigs... costume-design and making, spoken word poetry, acrylic painting n rollerskating but my sister broke my skates abt two years ago in vengeance and i’ll never forgive her that fuckin bitch

HAVE ANY PETS? IF SO, TALK ABOUT THEM! — no my landlord is a fascist

IS THERE A TV SHOW YOU RECOMMEND A LOT? — i’ll never stop reccing euphoria!! also i was pleasantly surprised by looking for alaska!! but i also rlly like bob’s burgers, parks and rec, good omens.... black mirror, n sharp objects. lovesick on bbciplayer (n netflix i think) is also rlly fun

ANY SHOWS YOU LIKE SOME MIGHT BE SURPRISED TO HEAR THAT YOU DO? — maybe love island, idk if i talk abt that much bc i am ashamed but i am so obsessed with it. i even got the love island game n got so invested in my fictional relationship w bobby tht i had to delete it

WHAT WAS THE LAST BOOK YOU READ? WOULD YOU RECOMMEND IT? — god god... i haven’t finished a book in ages.... i recently started reading milkman by anna burns, the bees by laline paull and everything under by daisy johnson.... bt the last book i read cover to cover was probs circe. defs read it. feminist and witchy

CURRENTLY READING? — i jst said this but the bees, everything under and less so milkman cos im finding milkman a bit tough

LAST FILM? REC IT? — i watched ladyworld the lord of the flies all-female remake n even maya hawke could not save it.... dnt get me wrong from an art film point of view i loved it but it felt a bit underdeveloped n a level media studies for me..... apart from tht?? the runaways (yorkshire film not released yet at a preview screening) and threads (also a yorkshire film from the 80s about nuclear apocalypse)

THREE MOVIES YOU NEED TO WATCH — portrait of a lady on fire, i work at an independent cinema n we recently had a preview screening and everyone said it was SICK, uhhhh short term 12, n the new eliza scanlen movie babyteeth

WHAT MOVIE DO YOU THINK YOU’VE SEEN THE MOST TIMES? — madagascar because when i was 12 my parents bought me a little television with a dvd player in it for my birthday and madagascar was the only dvd i owned for like..... the first two years of havin the absolute luxury of a tv in my room so i just used to watch it all the time n i now basically know the script inside out

WHAT ALWAYS PUTS YOU IN A GOOD MOOD? — nothing, life is pointless n i hate fun, let me rot in peace

WHO IS YOUR FAVOURITE MUSICIAN / BAND? LIST IF THERE ARE MORE THAN ONE. — ughhh god probably lcd soundsystem. gorillaz, the streets, tame impala, talking heads, soft hair, i also love lizz tho n also angry twangy guitar girl bands like girlpool, courtney barnett, best coast, cherry glazerr,

WILD NIGHT OUT OR QUIET NIGHT IN? — quiet night in my party days are over i cant even be bothered to go to the shops if its past 4.30pm and dark these days

ANY PHOBIAS? — clowns n rats

DO YOU LIKE BUGS? — absolutely not

BIRDS? — yes but not if they fly in my face

ARE YOU A CAT OR DOG PERSON? BOTH? — i love both i want one 

BIGGEST PET PEEVE? — tory middle aged boomers who treat me like actual shit on their shoe because i work in the service industry like thats my choice and their poor economic decisions didnt mean i have to do a shitty job to afford to live bcos of austerity n cuts to arts funding meaning i cant get a job writing unless i self-fund :)))

FAVOURITE THING ABOUT THE RPC? — that everyone ive met through rp is a fuckin LAFF

TOP TEN FAVE FCS TO USE? — god .... diana silvers, timothee chalamet, margaret qualley, kristine froseth, froy gutierrez, zendaya, elle fanning, astrid berges frisbey, hunter schafer, leonardo dicaprio

FIVE YOU LIKE WRITING AGAINST? — herman tomeraas, hunter schafer, saoirse ronan, timothee chalamet, froy gutierrez

FAVOURITE TYPE OF FOOD? — linda mccartney 1/2pounder mozzarella veggie burgers, sweet potato wedges, tomato soup, mozzarella sticks, brownies

WORST FOOD? — green things like broccoli n sprouts gross. baked beans cos as a kid ppl used to do baked bean baths for comic relief / red nosed day a lot n i thought when they were finished in the baked bean bath they just put all the cold beans back in the tin. actually anything small that moves around on your plate. peas. spaghetti. sweetcorn. i dont like small things i cant control.

DO YOU PLAY VIDEOGAMES? IF SO, WHAT ONES AND ON WHAT PLATFORM DO YOU PREFER? — last year my housemate had an xbox n i went through a phase of obsessively playin fable 3 it was amazing. i had like 5 husbands and 3 wives and loads of kids but they all ended up leavin me cos i spent so much time out doing quests neglecting them

ANYTHING ELSE YOU’D LIKE TO SHARE WITH THE TAG? — this

LASTLY, HOW DID YOU FIND US? — im one of those bitches who was in this grp all the way back when it was swipe... so quirky and original!! i knew the band before u! anyway im goin now this has been sufficiently embarassing..... i am lame

[comics-patrol]

Review: Wonder Woman Vol 7: War-Torn

Writer: Meredith Finch

Artist: David Finch

Continuity: New 52 (2011 September - 2016 May)

Series status: finished (this is 1 out of 3 volumes by this creative team but it continues on from the previous 6 volumes).

Recommended reading: New 52 WW, New 52 Justice League,

There’s enough exposition for this volume to work as a jumping on point for the Wonder Woman series. Reading Justice League could be useful for background on Diana’s relationship with the League members as they are featured heavily in War-torn. This is definitely recommended as there are many Justice League volumes and I’m not sure how the timelines of the two series sync up. (War-Torn was published between volume 6 and 7 of Justice League but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything for the timelines).

Premise: Diana is torn between responsibilities to her people and to the Justice League, as well as dealing with the fallout of her decisions which altered her life and Paradise Island in major ways.

My thoughts:

Story: 2.5*/5

Art: 3.5/5

Characters: 3/5

* Honestly I would give it a 3 if not for the thing with a certain character but more on that later.  

Review:

Sometimes having low expectations is a good thing? I really wasn’t sure about this volume. Continuing with a series after a creative team change can be daunting. I loved the Azzarello/Chiang run so I took a break after finishing it, which I would recommend doing in general to make the change less jarring. Also, opinions on Meredith Finch’s run are mixed so I wasn’t exactly rushing to read it. (Even though I don’t give too much weight to how well-received a work is, I’m not completely impervious to negative opinions).

Overall it was fine. It’s a standard superhero story, not outstanding, not terrible, The conflict Diana feels was well realised and for the most part, she felt in character. I was a bit confused by her anger issues at the beginning. I have no issue with a female character being allowed to be angry and have flaws but it came out of nowhere (and her almost slicing poor Swamp Thing to bits was maybe a little much).

I have one big exception for the “it was fine” sentiment: the treatment of Donna Troy. She deserves better and I don’t understand the choice to bing her into the New 52 like this. At least her armour looks great?

The depiction of the Amazons and their negative feelings towards Diana were frustrating. I thought this was resolved in the previous story-arc and it wasn’t nuanced at all  I hate when Amazons are portrayed as extremist man-haters, this story was leaning into it. Even if it was only a fraction and not all of them.

I feel torn (!) about the art. On one hand, I love the details and the colours. There are some beautiful panels and pages throughout like the one above. Still, Diana looks jarringly young, probably the youngest I���ve seen in a series that wasn’t about her youth. Sure, this version of Diana is younger due to the New 52 restarting everything but she’s an adult. This portrayal makes her look demure in a way I don’t think fits the character and goes against the story’s depiction of a Wonder Woman who has already been through a lot. Maybe it’s a stylistic choice and David Finch always draws faces like this? Certainly, the characters don’t have a distinct look, many of the faces look similar and kind of weird sometimes.

I was worried about the too common over-sexualization of women before reading War-Torn. Mostly based on the main cover, which depicts Diana in a sexy pose, complete with the unrealistically arched back. Juxtaposed with her looking underage, it’s disquieting to be honest. I would say the covers are the worst of it (hello, issue 38 cover) but there are times when female characters look like they are posing instead of standing or fighting. A couple of panels could have been drawn more tastefully (example below) but on the whole, it’s not bad.

A final thought: it’s great to see Wonder Woman written by a woman. Obviously, that doesn’t mean the volume is going to be (or has to be) an outstanding achievement of feminism or feminist at all, just because the author is female. Honestly, I didn’t notice a change in this aspect compared to the previous volumes. I’ve seen complaints about Brian Azzarello’s run having sexist elements or bad female representation, but I don’t agree. I also heard the same about this run, so far I don’t agree with that either, other than the depiction of the Amazons I mentioned earlier in the review. (To be fair, the previous run had that too.)

Apparently, this is also Meredith Finch’s first time writing superhero comics and it’s good debut. I’ll be continuing on with the next two volumes (and not just because I already have them :D).

[p-and-p-admin]

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.  (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello snapeslittleblackbuttons and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you for letting us get to know you a little better.

Many of our members will be familiar with your body of work, including works Watch over me and Once, Now and Forevermore.

Okay, let’s jump right in.

What's the story behind your pen name?

It’s actually a subtle tribute to a scene in one of the first fanfics I ever read. It was an SSHG one-shot, and there was a scene in which Sev muses aloud whether his wife is more taken with him, or his buttons. I thought it was adorable.

Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most?

That’s hard to say. I probably see more qualities of myself in Hermione than any other character.

Do you have a favourite genre to read?  

I enjoy fantasy most, but sci-fi and historical fiction tie for a close second place. When an author can seamlessly incorporate a bit of fantasy into history--like Diana Gabaldon does in her Outlander series--that’s the best of everything.

Do you have a favourite "classic" novel?

A Tale of Two Cities by Dickens is my favourite classic by far. I also love The Mists of Avalon by Bradley.

At what age did you start writing?

I started writing when I was an adult. My senior year English class pretty much ruined my desire to focus on writing as a craft. Now that I’ve found my Muse again, I guard my personal voice as an artist fiercely.   

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

I adore Sev as a character--his strengths and his flaws--the whole lovely, complex mess that is Severus Snape. My heart just broke for him--life had been so unfair, right from the start. I wanted to give him a glimpse of happiness, just a taste, you know? It was probably more to make me, as a reader, feel better than anything else! So, I wrote a parallel story called What Dumbledore Knew, which focused on his relationship with Lily during the First Wizarding War and tied my story into the canon events of DH, making it so that it could have actually occurred.   

What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works?

The most interesting themes for me to explore (both as a reader and writer) are abandonment and fate. You Know Where to Find Me is about abandonment, and Unanswered Prayer touches on both abandonment and fate. Of course, Once, Now, and Forevermore and To Dwell on Dreams focus on fate.    

What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter?

None, actually! HP is all I’ve ever read or written. I’d bet I’d love Star Wars / Reylo fanfic, but I’d be afraid to start down that road with all the commitments I have right now.

If you could make one change to canon, what would it be?

Well, I think I would have let Severus live so he could realize the fruits of redemption. It’s awfully clean and convenient when he dies; you don’t have to fit him into the wizarding world any longer, and you don’t have to deal with how you’ve treated him. And he doesn’t have to live with what he’s done. I think all of that merits exploration.

Do you have a favourite piece of fanon?

My favourite? I have a few. Severus is Draco’s godfather, wizards sign betrothal contacts, and Blaise is a bit of a Casanova.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet?

I prefer quiet, but I can write when things are extremely chaotic and loud, too. I can write at a library or a rave. It’s hardest for me to write when sound is somewhere in the middle, for example, when I can hear a single conversation or just a TV.   

What are your favourite fanfictions of all time?

Second Life by Lariope, The Secrets We Keep by IShouldBe (which was, incidentally, the very first fanfic I ever read); Turn by Saras_Girl, and Advanced Contemporary Potion Making by Lariope. All of them can be found on archiveofourown.org.

Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process?

I’m a plotter, but I’m willing to listen to the Muse if she suggests diverting from plan.

What is your writing genre of choice?

Fantasy, certainly. I write historical fiction as well, but I find that I get ensnared in making sure the all details are perfect--like moon’s phase on September 6, 1978, or the average temperature in Sudan in late July, or whatever. Writing historical fiction takes me FOR. EV. ER.

Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why?

That’s one of the hardest questions I’m asked--it’s like asking which of your children you like the best. I have favourite scenes from every single one of my plot-bunny-turned-story babies, but overall I would have to say my favourites are Fur and Sin and Child of the Moon.

Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it?

Generally, they unfolded as I had planned, but the Muse provided some details along the way that I hadn’t thought of until I was actually writing the scene.

How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write?

I don’t have any personal ties to themes in those particular stories, I’m just happy with how they came out.

What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing?

Certainly, the works of Saras_girl, Aurette, Loten, Lariope, and IShouldBe have influenced me.

All of those authors have inspired me to challenge myself as a writer. After reading Turn by Saras_girl, I challenged myself to write a story in present tense (Fur and Sin). Others have inspired me to try humour (The Shape of You) and first person POV (Child of the Moon).  

Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction?

My immediate family knows, and just two of my RL friends. I have a fabulous support group on FB who first knew me as only snapeslittleblackbuttons, and now I am honoured to call friends as well.

How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"?

Well, that notion was true for me when I first started my writing journey. As I mentioned, I wrote my first story (What Dumbledore Knew) to develop Severus’s motivations more fully. I wrote that story for me.

While Dumbledore Knew was supposed to be for me alone, I eventually wound up sharing it on ff.net (because why not?), and a very kind soul messaged me and asked to if she could be my beta for future stories. She showed me things I was doing well and coached me on things that I wasn’t. She was the perfect mix of encouragement and correction, and I’m thankful for her to this day.  

How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media?

It’s incredibly important. I can tell you that each and every review or comment I receive reinforces the desire for me to return to my craft, to produce more, to hone more. I am very grateful for my readers.

Right now, the only ways I engage with them are through FB or archiveofourown.org.

What is the best advice you've received about writing?

Typing is different than writing. Don’t confuse the two. And yes, you can actually be writing--crafting a scene in your mind, for example--without touching your keyboard.

What do you do when you hit writer's block?

I read, and try not to stress about it. Sometimes, I’ll reread a favourite ff, or even my own, until someone’s words inspire me again.

Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing?

Absolutely. Themes in You Know Where to Find Me, and a scene in Nightfall (the conversation on the garden bench) come directly from my personal experience.

Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser?

I’m working on a novel-length original fiction right now. It’s an expansion/adaptation of one of my ff stories, but I’m not ready to share a teaser yet. Stay tuned.

Any words of encouragement to other writers?

Keep going, you’re doing great. Really, truly, you are.

Thanks so much for giving us your time.

Thank you, Relish Redshoes, for giving me the chance to talk about my work.

[victeux]

Profiles for Desiree and Rachel (Under Cut)

PROFILE ; DESIREE MORGAN DEHOUND

GENERAL.

full name.  Desiree Morgan DeHound pronunciation.  Dehs-ih-ray Mor-gan De-Hound nicknames.  Des, Morgan height.  155 cm / 5′1″ age.  22 years old zodiac. taurus languages. English, Russian

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour.  dirty, natural blonde eye colour.  sky blue skin tone.  warm beige body type.  toned, triangle-shaped body (thinner top half, larger bottom half). chest is smaller than average, body is overall toned from regular exercise. accent.  something people would call ‘Californian’, comes out akin to a surfer-stereotype type of speech pattern.  mostly relaxed, but not an intense accent by any means. dominant hand.  right-handed posture.  usually relaxed, yet proper. shoulders rolled back, not commonly seen slouching. scars.  none. tattoos.  four. one line neck tattoo, one cat-head silhouette tattoo on inner bicep of left arm, two lines of 5 hearts on the inside of both thighs. most noticeable features.  hair. it is long, due to her refusing to get it cut at a hairdresser for years. it goes down to the top of her hips, and it falls in rather messy waves instead of pretty, defined curls, a product of her lack of hair care.

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth.  a town in Russia. hometown.   Los Angeles, Calfornia birth weight / height.  --- manner of birth.  natural birth. first words.  “спать“, in English, “sleep” siblings.  none. parents.  Diana DeHound (mother) ; Alexander DeHound (father) parental involvement.  not much. Desiree has a poor relationship with her parents, due to various reasons. these reasons include childhood neglect, teenage alcoholism and drug abuse, and her current choice of lifestyle. she does not visit them (as they currently live in Russia), and they do not visit her more than once a year normally. it is a mutual disinterest.

ADULT LIFE

occupation.  none, as of now. she survives off of her parent’s money. current residence.  Saratoga, California close friends.  Rachel Kuchen partners:  none. relationship status.  single. financial status.  high class. her parents own multiple oil manufacturers in Russia, and considering she leeches off of their money, she is well-off. driver’s license.  yes. criminal record.  none.

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation.  bisexual romantic orientation.  panromantic preferred emotional role.  Submissive | Dominant | Switch |  Unsure preferred sexual role.  Submissive  |  Dominant |  Switch |  Sex repulsed libido. high. she uses sex as a coping mechanism, so she will try to have sex with almost anyone that catches her interest. turn on’s.  most things. specifically, she enjoys violence, rough sex, lingerie, sensation play, knife play, con noncon; mainly anything that could hurt her. turn off’s.  romantic actions during sex are her main turn-off. she does not enjoy sex with others that try to turn it emotional. love language.  Desiree has an extremely difficult time being emotionally vulnerable enough to ever have feelings even close to ‘love’ for another person. however, if she did get to that point, one could definitely tell a difference. contrary to her loud personality, she is very soft once she gets into a relationship that she can feel confident and secure in. her love language would most likely center around giving gifts to her partner, as well as frequent shows of affection both in public and in private. relationship tendencies.  breaking up is her most common tendency in a relationship. as mentioned, she is very difficult to truly lockdown. if it were to happen, something notable would be the amount that she wants to be in physical contact with her partner. she enjoys being able to touch someone without being sexual, so that would be one of her most notable tendencies while in a relationship.

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song(s).  Froot - Marina and the Diamonds hobbies to pass the time. clubbing, bar-hopping, going on walks, playing with her dogs, hanging out with whichever friend is available, hook-ups. mental illnesses. ADD is her only properly diagnosed mental illness, which she currently takes medication for. however, she shows signs of depression regularly. she also suffers from ongoing emotional and physical trauma which effects her in various ways. physical illnesses.  none. left or right brained.  right-brained. fears.  haircuts, never being special to anyone. self confidence level.  generally low, but varies. vulnerabilites.  she is quite vulnerable to emotional manipulation, despite herself using it regularly on other people.

PROFILE ; RACHEL KUCHEN

GENERAL.

full name.  Ramone Wagner (original) / Rachel Kuchen (current) pronunciation.  Rah-moan Vah-gnah / Ray-chehl Coo-ken nicknames.  Ray, Radio height. 147 cm / 4′10″ age.  25 years old. zodiac. scorpio languages. German, English

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour.  deep grey, with two strands of pink, purple, and blue above her bangs that fall to the sides of her face. eye colour.  yellow. skin tone.  beige with yellow undertones. body type.  classic hourglass with little muscle. her arms and legs are prosthetic, robotic limbs, so they can not be toned. her body is smooth, not toned, however she eats healthily and keeps her weight steady in order to avoid any strange proportions from happening with her limbs not being able to change with her. accent.  noticeable German accent. she works on not having it, but it is prominent when she uses words with consonants. dominant hand.  she is good with both hands. ambidextrous. posture.  very proper. you will never see her slouching. she could be compared to any ‘perfect’ example of feminine, structurally-sound posture. scars.  she has various scars on her body. her main scars are at her shoulders and hip joints, where her robotic limbs were attached. the joints are encircled with a scar that has mostly smoothed out, but is still obviously a surgical scar with stitch marks. she also has various surgery scars on her abdomen, but they are almost gone. tattoos.  none. most noticeable features.  the two strange pieces of hair that hang off of her head. they were surgically connected to her to provide a temperature monitor and increased hearing, but they look very strange.

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth.  a small town in Germany. hometown.   the same small town in Germany. birth weight / height.  --- manner of birth.  natural birth. mother died afterwards. first words.  “papa” siblings.  none. parents.  Oscar Wagner (father) (dead) ; Unknown mother (dead) parental involvement.  none. both of her parents are dead. she personally murdered her father, while her mother died after childbirth from complications that the small hospital of their town could not handle.

ADULT LIFE

occupation.  loan officer at a local bank. current residence.  Saratoga, California close friends.  Desiree M. DeHound. partners:  none. relationship status.  single. financial status.  middle class. she makes a fair amount of money from her job, since she has been doing it for years. driver’s license.  yes. criminal record.  none.

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation.  demisexual romantic orientation.  demiromantic. preferred emotional role.  Submissive | Dominant | Switch |  Unsure preferred sexual role.  Submissive  |  Dominant |  Switch |  Sex repulsed libido. low. she has yet to experience anything that could be remotely considered sexual attraction, not even in her teenage years did she feel any need to explore such things.  turn on’s.  unsure. she is inexperienced. in general, she enjoys keeping clothes on as well as praise. gentleness is something she would enjoy. turn off’s.  again, unsure due to inexperience, but she would not enjoy anything physically violent such as types of BDSM. roughness would scare her, and possibly upset her. love language.  Rachel is a very soft woman in general, and that carries on into how she shows her love for another. she is not intense, and prefers to show her love through small actions such as making dinner, bringing home flowers, or simply holding hands. she always wants the best for the people she loves, and she enjoys doing whatever she can to help them along their way to do what they want in life. relationship tendencies.  she can be somewhat clingy in an emotional sense. she enjoys the security that a relationship gets, and if her partner is someone that would prefer to live apart, they would expect to get morning, lunch, and dinner calls from her to check in on them and make sure they’re alright. she has never experienced genuine love from anyone in her life, so having that would, of course, make her not want to lose it. keeping in close contact is a way she sees she can keep it.

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song(s).  Make Me a Robot - Tessa Violet hobbies to pass the time. embroidery, stargazing, crochet, mainly introverted activities is what she enjoys. mental illnesses. PTSD from her childhood situation. mainly manifests (noticeably) as general anxiety throughout her day and avoidance of hospitals. physical illnesses.  none. left or right brained.  left-brained. fears.  hospitals, needles, stitching, her father, random touching by strangers, rough handling. self confidence level.  low-medium. she doesn’t think about it often, but she doesn’t see herself in a good light due to her past actions (mainly her father’s murder). vulnerabilities. a lot. she is especially vulnerable to anything that can trigger her anxiety (see above). she is not an emotionally strong person, nor physically. her limbs also make her vulnerable, as they can sometimes not work properly.

Tagged by: @smoulderingsilver Tagging: want it? have it.

[so-shiny-so-chrome]

Witness: Livia_LeRynn

Creator name (AO3): Livia_LeRynn

Creator name (Tumblr): Livia-LeRynn

Link to creator works: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livia_LeRynn/works

Creator name (other platform- please specify): I am also So-Shiny-So-Chrome on Tumblr.  Witness me interviewing myself.

Q: Why the Mad Max Fandom?

A: The Mad Max franchise has a few of my favourite things (I should write this song...) like: deserts, obsessively detailed world building, post-apocalyptic setting, women being gritty, weird religions, and characters that hit the right combination of badass and broken.  You have all this angst in the characters, but then there's this great sense of fun with how extra everything is.  I'm a real sucker for deep social and philosophical concepts hidden behind explosions and cool fight scenes.  Fury Road also came out at just the right time for me.  I was just really ripe for so many of the themes and aesthetic components.  

Q: What do you think are some defining aspects of your work? Do you have a style? Recurrent themes?

A: Stylistically, I like to change things up.  I kind of oscillate between long, descriptive sentences and almost obnoxiously pithy ones.  I break rules, start sentences with 'but' and 'and;' I use commas like breath marks, especially in dialogue to give it the rhythm I hear in my head.  I also world build to an obsessive extent.   

A frequent one for me is being female in the wasteland: relationships between women; portrayals of women finding themselves and their strengths; and the trade-offs women make to keep themselves safe.  I also work a lot with religion in the wastes.  Most fic have their own themes that come from the characters and their emotional struggles.  For example, “Stranded” is about Furiosa being stuck between her past and future selves.  “Blood and Breath” deals with a lot of different themes, but one of the more prominent ones the struggles that come with being in an unexpected and sometimes undesired position of power; it’s another theme that pops up rather frequently. 

Q: Which of your works was the most fun to create? The most difficult? Which is your most popular? Most successful? Your favourite overall?

A: I really enjoyed writing “Stranded.”  It was just so different from anything I'd written for the fandom before.  For me personally, it's still a good read. 

 The most difficult was “7000 Days,” both because I was new at fanfic in general but also because both parts I and II are really raw, dark, and personal. I needed to take breaks while I was writing it and shift gears to something lighter.  It also doesn't get much reader attention, probably because it is so heavy, and that always makes writing harder for me.  This one just felt like I was shouting into the void for a lot of it. 

Currently "Daughters of the New World" is a struggle for me.  The premise is a bit out there, what with Wonder Woman coming to town and being romantically attached to K.T. Concannon.  Diana is a difficult character for me because she is complex but seems simple, and the whole thing is from the perspective of Furiosa who just doesn't get her. I worry that I've bit off more than I can chew because I want to explore some heavy stuff.   

My most popular overall is “Blood and Breath,” which I kind of get because it scratches a lot of different itches.  “Little Mate is my most popular short, which surprises me because it definitely is not in my comfort zone.  It's cute; it's fluffy.  It's just not something I would seek out to read.  

My most successful might be “Crux.”  Being a remix, I had set parameters to follow, which I find creatively useful.  The author of the original was also quite please with it, so: success! 

I think the fic I have written that most closely aligns with my personal tastes right now is “Wasteland Jukebox.”  It probably helps that it is also my most recent.  It bounces from angsty to fun to bittersweet to campy and back again multiple times over, all the while showing really intimate character portrates.  

Q: How do you like your wasteland? Gritty? Hopeful? Campy? Soft? Why?

A: All of the above.  I like my wasteland realistic where everything hurts, but some things are still funny, and big wins are possible, but they come at a cost.  Even when I'm filling my wasteland with ghosts and vampires, I still want it to feel very grounded in reality and populated with realistically complex people.   This especially applies to medical stuff; if I'm going to write about something I want to portray it accurately and realistically within the context of the story.   All the injuries, diseases, and treatments are based off of real things. 

Q: Walk us through your creative process from idea to finished product. What's your prefered environment for creating? How do you get through rough patches?

A: It depends.  Sometimes I can just crank something out.  These are typically shorter, more atmospheric pieces.  More often I have one or more specific scenes, and the rest of the fic grows off of them.  Like for “Daughters of the New World,” it's Diana riding on top of a bonnet/hood while Furiosa is trying to shoot out the window, and they keep getting in each other's way.  None of my longer fic is written in chronological order.  For “Blood and Breath,” I have scenes that I first drafted probably two years ago, but I still haven't gotten to them in fic.  Most of my first drafts are dialogue.  Then on second pass I add or replace those words with body language.

Getting to the finished product is the hardest part for me, especially when I already have all the major parts of the puzzle figured out, and I just have to polish them up. I also tend to have that writers' curse where I think of what to write when I can't possibly write it, like in the shower or a work meeting.  I'm also very much the type of writer where I live off of interaction with my readers.  I love it when people question the choices I make in my fics. I don't really have a preferred environment for writing, but I know I can't do it if there's the slightest chance anyone near me might be reading over my shoulder.  I just get paranoid.  If I'm on an airplane, I have to wait for my neighbors to fall asleep.

Q: What (if any) music do you listen to for help getting those creative juices flowing?

A: Lots. Too many to list.  I make playlists for each of my major projects.  I listen to them mostly when I'm not writing so the stories stay in the back of my mind.  They're all public on Spotify so just ask if you want a link.

Q: What is your biggest challenge as a creator?

A: Finishing my long projects, especially when there isn't much reader response.  I can lose interest quickly, but I want to be reliable; if I know someone is looking forward to updates on my fic, I will keep writing for that one person.

Q: How have you grown as a creator through your participation in the Mad Max Fandom? How has your work changed? Have you learned anything about yourself?

A: I think I've found a writing voice for myself.  My early work tends to have a lot more of a throw shit against a wall and see what sticks approach.  In my working with Furiosa especially I've definitely found some of myself in her.  For example, a few interviews about Fury Road have stated that Furiosa avoids learning names to protect herself from emotional pain when people move on, die, betray her, she betray them, etc.  I realised that I do that do.  Of course, my situations aren't quite as extreme. :)

Q: Which character do you relate to the most, and how does that affect your approach to that character? Is someone else your favourite to portray? How has your understanding of these characters grown through portraying them?

A: Right now I relate most to Furiosa, and that answer shouldn't surprise anyone, but initially I felt more like Toast.  I thought Furiosa was really cool, but I didn't feel worthy to compare myself to her.  It took me a few months to go - fuck it, I want to be her for Halloween.  Of course, that wasn't enough.  I wanted her backstory.  I wanted to spend more time in the costume, and make the costume better.  I choreographed a dance about her so I could wear the costume more, but I really needed to get to know her as a person to really feel comfortable taking on her persona, not to mention I needed make the dance make sense in character (”She Used to Dance” is that fic.)  The more I got to know her, the more I took apart all her insecurities and neroses, the more I found her in me and myself in her. 

I relate to her being a woman caught in the middle of a  lot of things: being both young and old, hero and villain, masculine and feminine, strong and weak... The list goes on.  I relate to how she has spent most of her adult life in a predominantly male environment, and how that manifests as difficulty relating to other women like in the, "Everything hurts," exchange with Angharad.  

My favourite character to portray is whomever I'm currently writing once I find their voice.  I enjoy the process of getting to know these people.  Dag's POV is especially refreshing to write after working with characters who are super guarded like Max and Furiosa. I can just ramble and take weird turns in the narration.  I need to write more of her.   Capable is the hardest for me of the franchise ones I've tried.

Q: Do you ever self-insert, even accidentally?

A: I'm full aware of it.  There is a bit in 7000 Days Part II where it's mentioned in memory that a the Vuvalini get ahold of some vaccines from Melbourne, which in my chronology falls significantly later than other cities.  Furiosa is a little kid, and she is so determined to not get the shot that a couple of adults have to hold her down.  This was me.  This is literally a story from my childhood.  Mostly little things like that.  There's also the bit about Furiosa reading "Dune;" I fucking love "Dune," and her being trapped in the Vault while she's reading it, how can she not imagine a giant worm coming out of the sand and eating the whole damn place?   On a larger scale, I use fic to explore themes and issues that are going through my head. 

Q: Do you have any favourite relationships to portray? What interests you about them?

A: Well, we've already established that I have a bit of a crush on Furiosa.  I ship her with Max in my main continuity and with Valkyrie and Angharad in a couple of side projects.  I'm interested in Furiosa with Max because of how they relate to each other.  Yes, they are both terribly fucked up people, and who knows if the relationship would actually work, but that tension is a big part of the interest for me.  It took me about six months in the fandom to open up to the possibility of there ever being any kind of romantic or sexual relationship between them, and in my chronology that's about the amount of time it takes for them to move from one time plautonic snuggle buddies to romantic/sexual partners. I do most of my writing in that time frame. The fact that they massively respect each other definitely is something that shouldn't be squandered, and I think they recognise that. I don't headcanon either of them as asexual (though my Furiosa is demi), and I think that the best shot they have for a happy partnership is with each other.  They are both fundamentally good people who don't think they are worthy of kindness, let alone an actual relationship, but they both look at the other and see all the wonderful things about that person.  I'm interested in how they navigate this dynamic and how they eventually come to the decision that even if it does end badly, which it probably will, it's worth trying.  Everything hurts, right? Easy relationships are boring anyway.

Q: How does your work for the fandom change how you look at the source material?

A: Sometimes I watch with specific details in mind, like to see the details of a prop or costume piece.  Other times I'll watch something and see a detail I forgot but suddenly becomes an inspiration for a fic.  For example, the Crazy Diamond chapter in “Wasteland Jukebox” came from me rewatching the first movie and seeing Jessie with her saxophone.  

Q: Do you prefer to create in one defined chronology or do your works stand alone? Why or why not?

A: Most of my stories are in the same chronology.  Setting change AUs and “Crux” are the exceptions.  Part of the fun for me is keeping tracker of the chronology.  I don't expect my readers to work that hard though; every story stands on it's own. 

Q: To break or not to break canon? Why?

A: I do not break canon; I bend it to my will.  Setting changes are an exception of course. I just work better within the structure that canon provides. If I change canon, I change one thing and only allow other changes that are a result of that first change.  I develop and justify my interpretations of canon so that I find enough wiggle room for my headcanons to comfortably coexist with it.  Where canon contradicts itself, e.g. video game vs. comics, I chose my preferred version.  I even take little blurbs from interviews and try to work them in as lore.

Q: Share some headcanons.

A: Pretty much all my fic are based around headcanons.  There are many,  many of them.  Some are the premises for fic while others are big reveals.  Others are back story or missed scenes or just what was going on in someone's head. Here's one that's not a spoiler and doesn't make too many fic appearances:very Rockatanskyup name.  Max's original last name was Patansky, and Jessie's was Rockwell.   They're parents were millennials; of course they were raised to value gender equality :)

Q: If you work with OCs walk us through your process for creating them. Who are some of your favourites?

A: I rarely work with real OCs for anything other than side characters, but I often use characters who have little (Miss Giddy) to no screen time (K.T., Mary) or no canon name (Promise the Milker).  They effectively become like OCs.  K.T. had the most of a design process because all I had to go on were her name and Vuvalini affiliation.  I made her black to bring more racial diversity to my 7000 Days cast, and I made her American because I wanted to have an instory explanation of Furiosa's accent not being Australian. Warboy Kai exists because I felt Furiosa needed an ally among the War Boys cuz fuck if the Imperator pumps her own gas. He will eventually become the History Man we see in the comics so he's still not a true OC. My true OCs follow the same process: 1) identify a logical gap or role that needs filling, 2) establish the character using canon reference points, 3) fill in the character's appearance, personality, etc. not already established by 1) or 2).

Q: If you create original works, how do those compare to your fan works?

A: I'm not doing originals at the moment, but when I look back now at what I was doing pre-Fury Road, I realise just how fannish it all is.  We're talking many thousands of words of world building, character development, angst, and pining.  So yeah, not much different.

Q: Who are some works by other creators inside and outside of the fandom that have influenced your work?

A: I learned a lot about working with themes in different sub plots from "Wishbone."  Seriously, if you've never seen that shit go check it out.  A cute doggo dresses up and tells stories from classic literature while his human learns similar lessons in the "real world." 

I consciously avoided other fic when I first started writing because I didn't want to accidentally injest headcanons and not be able to remember where I got them.  Once I found the story I wanted to tell, I dove into the wealth the fandom had to offer.  I owe @sacrificethemtothesquid for paving  the way in making these characters as gross and gritty in fic as real humans.  I owe @lurkinghistoric and @fuckyeahisawthat for warming me up to Maxiosa first through their less and then through their more explicit fic.  And of course @youkaiyume for drawing the art that inspired many of those fic.  Really the whole of the Smuttyartfic group got me writing smut again after a good decade away from it.   

Q: What advice can you give someone who is struggling to make their own works more interesting, compelling, cohesive, etc.? 

A: I'm gonna go with the good ole, "Write what you know; so know interesting things."  Show off your passion and the depth of your knowledge.

Q: Have you visited or do you plan to visit Australia, Wasteland Weekend, or other Mad Max place?

A: Yes to all of the above.  I really like deserts and tend to pick them for my vacation spots.   I stopped in Sydney on my way to New Zealand a few years back, but I didn't get to go outback; crossing the Nullibor is in my to-do list.  If anyone plans a fandom-cation count me in. I've been to Wasteland Weekend twice and intend to be back, but probably not this year because this summer I will be going on a camping safari through Namibia.  Don't worry, there will be pictures.  And yes, I will be asking our guide obnoxious questions.

Q: Tell us about a current WIP or planned projectThis is my year of finishing projects.  I'm also signed up for Fandom Trumps Hate.  Bid on my listing and you can choose my next project.

Thank you @livia-lerynn

[maddmuses]

Alexandros, Prince of Themysicra // Alexandros Prince // Wonderboy

(fc: Avan Jogia) Age: (Variable, but generally in his teens, would be 14 in 2019) Aliases: Wonderboy, Prince Alexandros Date of Birth: June 20th Species: Amazonian-Atlantean Demi-God (It’s complicated and not meant to power-game him up, read his biography to understand)

Universe Inspiration: Post-Darkseid War Prime Earth

Appearance Alexandros bears a striking resemblance to his mother, with prominent features and olive skin, as well as distinct dark hair. Despite his young age, Alex has lead an extremely active lifestyle, and has a build that reflects this. Trending to be tall for his age, Alexandros is 5′9″ by the time that he leaves Themyscira, and stands at 6′4″ by the time he’s done growing in his early 20s.

While not immediately apparent, or often noticeable after a small inspection, Alexandros does have very subtle gill slits along his neck that only move and function when he uses them to breathe underwater. These sit along the underside of his jawline, like other atlanteans, and allow him to process the oxygen in water, to remain submerged in oxygen-rich water for indefinite periods of time.

Generally speaking, Alex tends to wear comfortable clothing such as tanktops, running pants, and sweatpants. When dressed in his capacity as Prince of Themyscira, he will opt for more formal Amazonian-style apparel, usually wearing finer fabrics and cloaks sent to him by the embassy.

In his capacity as Wonderboy, Alexandros wears an Amazonian raiment reminiscent of his mother’s, although modified as a full shirt, and with lower legs on the boots, only going protecting up to his knees. In traditional Greek fashion, he wears a modest undergarment, but does not wear full-length pants, as this was not considered something that Greeks wore, as it was commonly more associated with Persians, Eastern, and Germanic cultures.

As well, the Prince wears the same tiara, bracers of submission, and weaponry as his mother did during her original journey into the world of man.

Personality As Prince of Themyscira, Alexandros is possessed of the qualities taught to him since a youth. He knows how to properly hold himself, in dignified settings, and has a natural drive to do what’s best for his mother and sisters. Even as a Titan, Alex tends to adopt a sort of fraternal relationship with his teammates, although he is initially standoffish with most of them, not wishing to discuss any emotional issues he was experiencing at the time. This is generally indicated by his desire to use the terms “sister” and “friend” preceding the name of particular individuals. He is very discerning with this term of endearment, due to the abuse of the term “brother” used when directed at him by Amazonians who objected to his presence on Themyscira.

Alex tends to wear his heart openly, being willing to tell others what he’s feeling, but not the reason why, unless pressed. This is a defense mechanism that Alexandros developed so as to not worry his mother, or give his teachers recourse to label him unsuitable for combat.

Fiercely protective of those he loves, Alexnadros will often lash out at those who speak disrespectfully of people he cares about, particularly his mother. However, he does hold a powerful indifference towards his father, and much of Atlantis as a whole, excepting his younger brother, whom he doesn’t have an excellent relationship, and his uncle Orm, who he meets in secret throughout his teens.

Largely, throughout his young life, Alexandros was enamored with another Amazonian who had been born at around the same time as himself, Anasatasia, who was undergoing training to become royal guard to his mother. But due to her death at the hands of Cheetah, he suffers from a sense of survivor’s guilt, as she perished protecting Alex, and as a young man he displays an inability to move past this.

Biography Alexandros Prince is the bastard-born son of Diana, then-Princess of Themyscira, and Orin, King of Atlantis. Initially born of a short relationship between Diana and Orin, Alexandros’s legality as a child was considered nullified by Arthur’s marriage to Mera. Typically speaking, this would indicate that Alex would have no claim to the Atlantean throne, barring a lack of legal heir for Arthur, which was fulfilled in Orin II who was born a half-year later.

Due to his lack of legal claim to Atlantis, in the traditional sense, it was felt by Diana that her son wouldn’t be able to lead a safe life amidst the political intrigue and generally toxic environment of Men’s kingdoms, even one that was so relatively further-along in its policies and culture as Atlantis. As a result, the custody of Alexandros would be held by Diana, and he would spend the lion’s share of his youth on Themyscira, rather than Atlantis.

This would be considered controversial among the Amazonians, as roughly a third of the island’s inhabitants would be opposed to the presence of a male child, even if he were to be solely raised by them. Hippolyta would also object to this, on the principle that it was a significant burden that Diana would place upon her as queen, to expect her mother to take on such a difficult issue, due to Diana’s desire to want a male child to raise.

Refusing to allow her mother to force Diana to do what Hippolyta had done to Jason centuries before, Diana would take on the crown of Queen of Themyscira herself, officially retiring as a full-time superhero, and permanently placing herself on the reserve JLA roster, Diana would use both her position as Queen and Goddess of War to declare that Alexandros was Amazonian by right of blood.

As a youth on the island, Alex would grow with the other young Amazonians, born to the island by a number of ways, as they had repopulated the island since the dawn of its existence, either through the rebirth of women who had been murdered by men, or born of Amazonians through the pairings with men of Greek Islands and ships. Many of these young women would be Alex’s first Sisters, as they would not initially hold the biases and prejudices of the older women as strongly, though this would change as time passed on.

Due to this, Alexandros would spend much of his time feeling alienated by adults in his life, rather than being referred to by the expected “Brother” he would often be disparagingly referred to as “Little Brother” by Amazons who cared little for his presence, or what his existence represented.

While no direct and overt manifestations of this enmity would frequently occur, it was often enough that Alex would detect a pattern, and while not self-isolating in response, began to segregate his time to those amazonians who took less issue with his presence.

Alex’s best friend on the island would be Anastasia, an Amazonian two years his senior who dreamed and trained to someday be a part of the queen’s guard. These two would be very close, and Alexandros would develop something akin to a romantic love of the girl, though he would be too young to understand these feelings fully until it was too late.

During Alexandros’s thirteenth year, one year after Anastasia joined Diana’s guard, Barbara Minerva, The Cheetah, would infiltrate Themyscira and make an attempt on Diana’s life. She cut a bloody swath through a number of Amazonians, at one point nearly managing to kill Alex as well, although he was hidden beneath Anastasia’s body as Diana fought the villain off, ultimately forced to kill Barbara.

It was over the next year that Alexandros would become shoddy in his training, sloppy, and more withdrawn, thrown into a depression that initially was sought to be repaired by his mother sending him to Atlantis, to spend time with his father and brother.

This wouldn’t be a constructive visit, as many Atlanteans at court saw Alex as not only a future threat to the status quo and line of succession, causing them to be distrustful, but many consider him to be no different than any other surface-dweller, a sentiment that Alex would believe in himself as well. This caused him to spend no more than a few weeks in Atlantis before returning to Themyscira, only feeling greater isolation, as the only other place that he understood COULD be a home proved to feel even lonelier than the island where his best friend had once lived.

During his fourteenth summer, near the time of his birthday, Diana would inform Alexandros that it was time for him to see the world, much as she had, and would travel to The World of Man as a diplomatic envoy. While this wouldn’t really be a diplomatic mission as much as a year abroad to discover himself, Alexandros would, for all intents and purposes BE a diplomat, reside at the embassy, and attend events as the prince of Themyscira. Knowledge of his parentage wasn’t publicly known until an incident in which Alexandros physically assaulted the sitting president of the united states, for making lewd remarks about his mother, and a non-existent alliance between Themyscira and the United States.

Not long after this, Alexandros would befriend the newest Robin, Blair Grayson, and would help him reestablish The Teen Titans, building Titan’s Tower with several other teen heroes of the time, including Caroline Kent (The newest Supergirl) and several other heroes who weren’t affiliated with prominent heroes of the time.

On his fourteenth birthday, Alexandros named Athena his patron of choice, declaring his success and glory would be in the name of the goddess.

Abilities and Skills -Amazonian Training: As is typical with any Amazonian, Alexandros has fairly extensive training in the use of weapons, unarmed combat, and a host of relevant academic disciplines, such as Greek Languages, arts, and world history. In particular, Alexandros is gifted in swordsmanship, and use of the bow, favoring those same weapons as his selected patron: Athena. -Leadership and combat tactics: While not the most adept at the personal side of leading a team, Alexandros is very skilled at coordinating others for the purposes of utilizing their abilities to be highly effective in combat, and coming up with creative means of defeating unusually powerful foes.

Superhuman Powers and Abilities -Amazonian-Atlantean Hybrid Physiology: As an Amazonian and Atlantean, Alexandros experiences a naturally enhanced physiology. Most Amazonians generally rest at the peak of human ability, with the training pushing them into the realm of superhuman ability. Additionally, Atlanteans are naturally powerful as a compensation for their high-pressure environment. In tandem with his typical Atlantean advantages, his father is exceptional among Atlanteans due to his noble heritage, which reflects in Alex. Alexandros possesses the following qualities as a result of these: --Superhuman Strength: By the merit of solely his Atlantean heritage, Alexandros is extremely powerful, particularly underwater, where the resistance and pressure of the depths have a greatly reduced effect on Alex. If not for his divine empowerment, it would be expected that Alex would resultantly become strong to a similar magnitude of his father. --Superhuman Durability: Alexandros is highly durable, able to sustain physical attacks from nearly all manner of foe without any sort of divine empowerment. However, edged attacks and bullets specifically are able to injure Alexandros as easily as any other form of attack, despite his Atlantean heritage, requiring him to be cautious still. --Superhuman Speed: Similar in speed to his mother, at his age, Alexandros steadily grows faster as time goes on, able to keep up with speedsters at a cruising pace, although this is his upper degrees of effort. --Superhuman Reflexes: Alexandros’s ability to react and process information is highly advanced, able to keep up with his physical speed. --Superhuman Agility: Thanks to his training, Alex is able to express a degree of athletic acuity far beyond that of the finest human athletes, only losing his senses of balance and coordination when sabotaged. --Superhuman Stamina: Alexandros can engage in combat almost indefinitely, so long as he is not injured, or grossly outmatched by a foe. He is incapable of tiring out, as Amazonians do not produce lactic acids. Injury and fatigue can set in if Alex is forced to fight at his full strength for too long. --Enhanced Senses: Due to his Atlantean nature, Alexandros is able to see very well in the dark, and navigate by a sort of echolocation, being able to ascertain his surroundings based on sounds alone. However, this is far inferior to even typical Atlanteans, as Alexandros hasn’t spent sufficient time in the depths to adapt to their sensory environment. --Water Freedom: Like other Atlanteans, Alex is able to move freely underwater, seeming to not be effected by resistance and pressure, giving him great advantage in submerged combat. --Water Breathing: Thanks to the gills nestled beneath his jawline, Alex is able to breathe water as effectively as on the surface. -Demi-god Physiology: When Alexandros was conceived by his parents, his mother, Diana, was the goddess of war. Additionally, that same mother was also the daughter of Zeus, influencing Alexandros’s physical composition accordingly. While the full extent of his powers are muted to a degree by his bracers of submission, Alex is still considerable, and passively benefits in some key ways from his parentage. --Enhanced Durability: Further enhanced by his magical nature, Alexandros has a similar type of durability to his mother, allowing him to sustain attack from kryptonians and other similarly strong individuals. As well, Alex is resistant to many forms of magical attack, even if they are directed specifically to affect him. --Further Enhanced Physiology: The physical components of Alex’s body are even greater when his godly powers are in use. These are largely subdued by his bracers of submission, though, and he must remove the cuffs to tap into his full godly powers. --Accelerated Healing: Amazonians recover from injury naturally quickly, but due to his mother’s war god nature, he is further able to recover from the fallout of war quickly. Unfortunately, this does not extend to attacks that aren’t sustained in combat, so sneak attacks that don’t result in any fighting which Alex participates in have to largely heal normally. --Flight: Alex is able to fly without any apparent propulsion. This ability is magical in nature, and is vaguely related to his descent from Zeus. He is able to fly at high speeds, and do so underwater, almost unobstructed. --Animal Empathy and Telepathy: Inherited from both parents, Alexandros is able to telepathically communicate with animals. Although he has the potential to tap into the clear, and influence marine life to a greater degree, he hasn’t trained with this power, and only has a mildly greater talent with marine life. --Immortality: Alexandros is unable to die of old age, and once he reaches his peak will cease aging normally. -Blessing of Athena: Granted to him for declaring Athena his patron, Alexandros has access to knowledge that he typically would not be able to, simply by standing in its presence (meaning he doesn’t need to read a book to know its contents, simply be near it, this does not work with technology). As well, when in any academic institution, or library, Alexandros is cured of, and immune to, the rage of war.

Weaknesses and Limitations -The Rage of Ares: While his mother may have not been affected by the god of war’s rage so much. But, due to his nature as man, Alex may occasionally slip into the song of war, falling into the beats too readily, and losing himself to the singing of the blades. At this point he ceases to tell friend apart from foe, and becomes a danger to himself and his own allies. This rage can be overcome with clarity and magical compulsion, but it’s difficult for Alex to do this on his own. -Dehydration: Alex must submerge himself fully in water roughly every 12 hours, or he will begin to suffer the effects of dehydration. This will progressively weaken him physically and emotionally, becoming exhausted within a day. Sea water will restore Alex more quickly, particularly Mediterranean water, but any kind will do in a pinch. -Complex Family Life: Due to his status as a son of the goddess of war, grandson of Zeus, bastard of Atlantis, and champion of Athena, Alexandros has a number of enemies. Many of these he is both aware of and unaware of, requiring him to often avoid the ocean, having long been discouraged by his mother of taking to open sea of any sort. Generally speaking, many large lakes, particularly those connected to the ocean, are nor much better.

Possessions and Equipment -Bracers of Submission: The same bracers worn by his mother during her initial adventures in the world of man, these magical bracelets can deflect attacks, even bullets. Made from the 8th metal, they are capable of deflecting Omega Beams. Additionally, thanks to an enchantment laid into them by Hephaestus, they are able to manifest a host of weapons and shields that Alex can use. -Tiara of Themyscira: The same worn by his mother, he is not aware that it can be thrown as a weapon. -Orm’s Trident: The trident used by Orm during his time in which he did not have his original one, taken by Mera at the time, this weapon blends magic and technology to allow its user to manipulate water, the weather, and generate bolts of lightning. The blasts are magical in nature, allowing him to affect magical and non-magical beings with it. Alex lacks proficiency with this weapon, and uses it infrequently. -Lasso of Clarity: A counterpart to his mother’s Lasso, blessed by Athena rather than Hestia, the lasso is able to clear the mind of maladies, insanity, and misinformation, allowing those who touch it by skin to recognize truth when it is presented to them. This does not cure mental illnesses that aren’t magical in nature, however.

[ncumenia-archived]

📱MOBILE-FRIENDLY RULES📱

OTHER LINKS:

lore

bio

headcanons

exclusive ship list

Since English is not my mother language, I apologize in advance if there are some grammatical errors or I use wrong words to describe an action. If something is not clear to you, just let me know, I’ll fix it as soon as I can.

Roleplay Rules:

TAG DUMP HERE!; (NSFW too)

Mun&Muse are both 21+. This blog is selective, 18+ exclusive, canon divergent, duplicates crossover, AU, fandomless, etc… friendly!  

Besides the obvious fact I won't rp smut or ship with minor muns/muses whatsoever, do not follow me if you're underage. This because I feel uncomfortable interacting with minor muns due to the huge age gap that might be between us. (Mun is currently 25 as I write this) Please, don't take it too personally, it's just for my own comfort. Furthermore, if your rules and age (mun is 18+, mun is 23, mun is of age and so on...) are not present on your blog I won’t rp with you at all. Lying about your age will result into a permablock and reported. The same applies if you're underage or your age is not stated and you dare to interact in any kind of NSFW way with me (This also includes liking/commenting my nsfw posts or sending me nsfw asks)

I refuse to ship/interact with: aged up muses (Nunu, Annie, Zoe etc…) and only smut-oriented blogs since they both make me uncomfortable. So, please, if you’re one of these blogs do not follow me.

No godmodding. If our muses are fighting, I’d like to discuss first with the other mun, in order to avoid it as much as possible;

I don’t like “follow for following me back, and if you don’t follow me I’ll unfollow you“ philosophy because I find this kinda disrespectful. I’m also available to interact with you even if we’re not mutuals! Usually, the reasons why I unfollow you are these: spamming too much without using a proper tag, talking shit about other people here on tumblr, spreading useless drama or rumors, posting stuff that makes me uncomfortable or if I somehow assume you’re not interested to interact with me.DMS are always open for plotting!

Currently available verses: Canon, Odyssey, Modern/Academy, Bloodmoon, Deity Please, before interacting with my muse in one of these verses make sure to read the lore and, if something is not clear to you, dm me anytime!;

I’ll try to match length more or less, so don’t worry about that. And please, TAKE YOUR TIME to reply. I have a life too, so don’t worry I’m not the one who runs after others! I tend to easily forget threads, so if I didn’t reply to our thread for like a couple of days dm me!;

I do believe in reblog karma, it’s your choice to send me a meme, but please reblog it from the source and not from me if you don’t want to send me one. If you reblog a meme from me without sending me one for more than once, I’ll block you. I’m sorry about this rule, but after some time this becomes quite annoying;

Any kind of hate toward a nationality/gender/sexual orientation and so on will result in a report and permablock. I believe everyone should respect a person, regardless of their gender/ethnicity/sexual orientation. If you don’t, you’ll get permablocked. Period. The same goes for every kind of insult or anon hate toward me, a ship or a friend: not only you’ll be ignored, but, if it is necessary, I’ll report and permablock you.

This blog is against any kind of fake/unfounded rumors and drama. I'll only reblog callouts that provide evidence about the problematic individual, and mostly about extremely serious topics (like minor hunters, abusers or if someone who is seriously in danger) I'm not afraid to callout people if they have a problematic/gross behavior or if they support/justify problematic/disturbing/traumatic topics.

I won’t rp and tolerate extremely disturbing topics like incest, rape (non-con/dub-con as well), pedophilia, child/animal abuse, and similar. The same goes for every kind of ship where these themes are involved. Mentioning these topics during a thread is okay (For example if you’re talking about your muse’s past), but I’d rather talk with the mun first so we can plot things properly.

Any jokes about child death, rape, racism, disability, sexism and so on are not allowed here. If I see one of them, I may go to your dms and telling you that’s not okay writing these things because they’re harmful, and to stop with that stuff. If you’ll ignore/insult/make fun of me you’ll be permablocked. [Added: 09/07/2019]

This blog may contain triggers such as blood, angst, smoke, drugs, gore, mental health etc. I’ll tag everything and I’ll use “read more”. (I’ll tag my triggers using, for example, “tw: blood” without air quotes) Before rping this stuff with you, I’ll always ask you if you’re okay with it, so do please tell me if you have any triggers or I should tag something specific in my blog! For example, my muse, when she’s overwhelmed by certain feelings or recalls what happened to her kin, she bleeds from her mouth and sternal scar. Please, if this makes you feel uncomfortable don’t be afraid to tell me it; Regarding sexual content, it will also be present, especially during Sinday, but I will always tag everything accordingly and put everything under read more.

Please, tag these two topics: needles and stepping on people. I feel extremely uncomfortable regarding the latter because it's heavily connected with animal abuse, and it makes me feel so sick I start to panic. I only ask you to tag these two topics.

I’m a human being, and sometimes I make mistakes too. If I made something that offended you/made you feel uncomfortable, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. I want to learn from my mistakes.

Shipping rules:

Even if I’m more than aware of the fact an 18+ mun is legally an adult, I realized I feel more comfortable shipping with both muns/muses who are 20+, especially in the case there will be some nsfw. That’s my personal preference, and this is NOT negotiable and it will NEVER be.[added 06/05/2019]

If you don’t want to keep our ship going on, that’s TOTALLY OKAY. I will NEVER get mad at you, neither asking you the motivation. If you don’t feel comfortable anymore, that’s okay and I respect your decision!

This blog is multiship exclusive, that means I'll only ship with one muse/au of that muse. Furthermore, I'll be highly selective with whom I ship with, and I mostly prioritize people I've been friends with for a long time. [EXCLUSIVE SHIP LIST]

I state in advance I don’t ship my muse with Diana, since she sees her as a mother-like figure. So… This basically would be incest, and I feel very uncomfortable with it. Furthermore, I won’t ship with Taric, Leona, Aurelion, Soraka, Zoe (But this is almost needless to say since she’s a minor, but prevention is always better than the cure), and yordles.

Even if I’m extremely fine with a platonic/non-sexual relationship, I’m also okay with some smut and that may occur with a serious plot, and ONLY if I feel comfortable and I trust my rp partner enough. Unfortunately, I don’t feel very comfortable rping it on Tumblr, and I’d rather rp it on Discord. [Please check the smut rules here] DON’T FORCE IT WITH ME, otherwise the ship will be deleted and probably I’ll block you too.

My muse is a revenant (I’m talking about her canon verse. In Odyssey! and Modern! she’s a living being) and NO, shipping with her is NOT necrophilia (She’s NOT a lifeless, nonsentient, smelly and rotten body who cannot give consent. She has revived thanks to Targon/Moon’s magic, and she’s ABLE to consent and she doesn’t smell bad, she’s not rotting and so on). I’m writing this because I’m kinda sick of this subject because “Shipping with Ernye/Pyke/Thresh/Kalista/Yone is necrophilia1111!!1!!”, and I’m more than sure these people are the first who fall in love with a vampire. If I receive any anon asks about this stuff in which there’s written I cannot ship her with anyone or other offensive things toward me or my muse (both ic and ooc), I’ll ignore and permablock them. No matter who’s the person who sent this. Again: I’m sick and tired of this stuff because basically there’s no problem in shipping with a psycho who can basically kill/abuse you any moment, meanwhile, GOD FORBID a revenant/vampire and stuff like that. So, better safe than sorry. If this bothers you so much you can unfollow me.

Respect my right to say “NO” if I don’t want to ship with your muse. So, don’t force it or I’ll block you.;

About the Mun:

You can call me Silkie, and I’m 25 years old;

Discord for mutuals only;

Pronouns: she/her (They/Them is also fine, if you feel more comfortable with it, no worries);

Chickens, cats, chinchillas, and Castlevania addicted;

I consider myself as a friendly person, so if you wanna know me or rp with me just send me a message! I suffer from diagnosed GAD and depression, so I really need time to open up to people and my activity may be sporadic because of this. And, please: if I make/say something that makes you feel uncomfortable TELL ME ANYTIME since I never mean to hurt anyone here through my words or acts;

Remember Muse ≠ Mun. Ernye’s actions don’t reflect my personality, or what I think about you;

Please DON’T FLIRT WITH ME, it makes me extremely anxious and uncomfortable due to many awful experiences I had in the past, and also because rp is a hobby and I want to have fun, and I’m not looking for a romantic partner. If you ignore my warnings I’ll permablock you. And yes, this also applies to every NSFW question about me. If you dare to do so you’ll get immediately reported, permablocked and the whole chatlog saved. I will also NOT tolerate any kind of NSFW anon ask about me.

The cringy art you see on my profile is made by me unless stated otherwise. Constructive criticism and bits of advice are more than welcome and encouraged ♥

[ If you have read my rules send me “Has the killing moon come for them?” That’s optional, of course, you don’t have to send it to me!]