#and they say it so happily too like her dying was something noble!! death is death it's sad!! especially for family

[romance-rambles]

godheim alkaid | in which he has (almost) nothing to hide (anymore)

Years after you settle down near New Godheim, your sons take part in a scheme to distract their father before the big surprise party. Unfortunately, Alkaid is observant—and his sons take after him.

1.4k, post-canon, birthday surprises, really domestic stuff with slight angst, children of characters, reader is mc [mentioned only], series: an eventful first meeting

ALKAID IS TENDING TO HIS garden when the door to the quaint house he shares with his wife and three children creaks open.

Hushed whispers descend upon his blossoming garden, but he remains deliberately immersed in cooing over the flowers. His gloved fingers hover over, but never touch, the stems of the purple flower he once brought to life for his wife—back in the snow-buried Godheim he once called home.

Whatever silence his sons can scrounge up lasts only until someone starts shoving—from the yelping, he can guess it's Leo, the older of the two. They sort out the argument between them quickly, then wordlessly set out further into his garden.

And this is, apparently, how some siblings act, particularly if they're close in age. You've vouched for the statement with anecdotes of your school life, but even almost thirteen years later, he finds it hard to wrap his head around it.

He and Ehlonna were never so rough with each other—or at all. But then again, they could only ever dream of the only kind of childhood his sons know.

This is only another difference in a terribly long list, one he hopes will only grow longer.

"Hmm?" Alkaid pauses in his act, pretending to have only just noticed his sons' arrival. "Who is it?"

Silence greets him in return. He waits. A second becomes many, but they do not keep him waiting for long. Instead, they join him by the flowers, almost solemn in the way they gaze at his hard work.

And the way their eyebrows pinch together reminds him of you.

"And what brings the two of you here?" Resting his hands on his knees, he cranes his neck to greet them, one by one. A hint of amusement trickles into his tone. "Will you not be helping your mother this year?"

The two attempt to glance at each other. He leans back a little, disguising his short laugh as a polite cough. The remnants of a smile, however, linger long after his gloved hand retreats. Pressing the back of his bent fingers against his lips, he allows it to return to its former glory.

Behind his back, they converse wordlessly. He pretends he can't hear the rustling of their clothes as they gesture at each other.

"No," Leo huffs out. Forest green eyes narrow at him, carefully gauging his reaction. "There's no point in trying this year."

"Yeah," Sirius grumbles.

Unlike his brother, he's nearly the splitting image of his mother. The title is out of reach only because of the occasional reminders that Alkaid is his father—in the color of his eyes. In the thickness of his hair. In his love for gardening, and in his quiet perceptiveness, one that would leave him wise beyond his ears if he had been born into any other life.

"You always know what we're up to for your birthday."

Indeed, Alkaid thinks privately, settling down onto the ground, with his hands back on his knees. Without delay, his sons mimic him. Today is no different. But he'll pretend it is, though it remains to be seen if his youngest son will buy it.

"Oh," he utters instead. "You didn't get me a present?"

"Not a physical one," the blond says quickly. His words take on a biting quality at the end—the message is clear, both to his brother and to Alkaid, though it's aimed at only one of them. Say something. "We're going to do whatever you want to do, Father."

Turning his head to Leo, Alkaid pretends to think, "Well, I did plan on spending more time on the garden."

"Urk." His next words slip out through gritted teeth, not quite an affirmative, but neither is it a denial. The blond leans forward, unamused gaze pinned on his snickering brother. "Ahem, it's your birthday, Father. You should relax for the day. Somewhere far, far away from here."

"Your mother once did something similar," Alkaid says wistfully, obliviously. "How nostalgic."

In unison, with an ease that suggests much practice, the twins gag at his words. They cap it off with a bland, but insistent, "We know," having perhaps grown tired of hearing the same things over and over again.

"Have I mentioned it before?" he inquires innocently. He hasn't, by the way. Nor has he mentioned the ending, where you did manage to surprise him. Such a trick can only work so many times. "I must've forgotten."

"It's possible," Sirius agrees amiably, having recovered in remarkable time. His fingers lightly caress the soft petals of Alkaid's flowers. "It only shows how much you care about Mother. You make her tea whenever she wants and you've been growing these flowers because they remind you of her."

Less amiably, Leo grumbles, "And you've told us so many stories that we could recite them in our sleep. You and Mother both."

Alkaid smiles faintly. If that is the worst of his sins, of their sins, then surely, they're doing something right. That he has to listen to his children complain is a small price to pay.

"So, when are you going to give them to her?"

"I'm not sure," he admits.

It is the sense that he's being watched that spurs him to glance back at the kitchen window, but the curtain remains drawn, void of any silhouettes that would give the game away. He thinks of his wife, of the awkwardness that's settled into their home—a genuine mistake they don't feel equipped to fix, one that isn't even their own, not entirely.

But they should've expected it. They should've realized that people would carelessly bring Ehlonna up in front of the twins. They should've known better than to try and hide her sacrifice, her—

In that moment, the dark-haired boy nudges him, pulling his attention back onto the flowers. Carefully, a smile slots back into his pleasant expression. Alkaid unclenches his hand—and when had he done that?—and resolves to focus on the current matter at hand.

"Then, do the two of you have any ideas?"

"You'd know better," the younger blond mumbles, his spirits having noticeably dampened at the direction the conversation is taking. "You've known her for a long, long time. Longer than us, since before—"

As expected, Leo was—is—the bigger problem. And Alkaid understands it. He does. But he's allowed to hope that, one day, Leo will realize he has nothing to compensate for, even if he is a bit more withdrawn than his siblings.

A lot more withdrawn, actually.

Perhaps oblivious to the slight tension in the air, though that seems unlikely, Sirius interrupts him without a care. "Give them to her on her birthday!"

A sound option, but—

Alkaid glances at his oldest son. Lips jutting out into a pout, he glares at the unsuspecting flowers in front of him. Under the sun's warmth, his hair takes on a more golden hue, as if it was gold spun into delicate strands.

Brushing the boy's bangs out of his face, Alkaid asks, "And what about you?"

"Isn't it your birthday today?"

He holds his forehead and scowls. At his father's words? At his actions? The older blond remains uncertain. Scarlet blooms acroas the boy's cheeks, the color intensifying as his brother snickers.

Gently, Alkaid offers his younger son a rebuke.

"You're right. Why don't we change the subject then?" He chuckles, tapping his chin. A hint of amusement slips into his words; his next words come out almost song-like. "Now, what shall we talk about?"

"Anything else."

"From before you met Mother!"

As requested by his boys, the topic shifts. The garden soon forgotten, they talk about his childhood.

He talks about Zack, who he'd reunited with shortly after New Godheim had been established, who they knew as "Uncle Zack". He talks about Ehlonna, focusing on the happier memories—on stars, and how he thought she might appreciate the company.

He talks about the Archmage last, telling them close to everything but the period in between, where their relationship grew distant. Wording his sentences carefully, so that they won't look unkindly upon his mentor. Focusing on the happier bits, like the time he and Ehlonna threw him a surprise party, even though they—and the emperor, as well—knew nothing about the day of his birth.

And in the garden they remain, until the ringleader behind this surprise birthday operation comes to fetch them herself, when Alkaid utilizes his best acting skills to be nothing less than thoroughly caught off-guard.

They don't really believe him, but that's okay.

There's always next year.

[sorcerous-caress]

Looking at the tangled mess that is Issal's lore sheet... Sure..! Let me throw some bits out!

Hair

Sol would definitely hate Issal for her hair, zero effort from this drow with appearances. All of it is just Drow selective breeding.

Fun fact Issal's hair most of the time is caked with alchemical oils and machine grease. This makes her hair appear almost grey and smell of WD40. Oddly enough, new car smell as well.

In reality, Issal's hair, if she took the minimum effort towards caring for it, would be the pinnacle of Drow Noble hair beauty standards. Enough to make a Matron envious.

Lolths Markings

Those in the spider queens favor bear the markings her across their skin and wield her divine powers. But woe to anyone whose marks begin to fade…"

Issal was/technically is, a noble of a house of Menzoberranzan, a house that was losing the favor of lolth at the time.

So it was to her Matrons satisfaction that despite Issal innate lack of faith, she was visibly gaining Lolth's favor.

That was what probably saved Issal from a swift death for heresy.

After some backstory drama; Sisters failing Trials of Lolth, Mother going insane and Issal blowing up part of the Baenre Compound out of spite.

Issal found herself fleeing to the drow city of Sshamath and her markings fading. But disturbingly not disappearing.

That fact makes her paranoid, and has an companion if Tav/Durge mentions them she'll respond accordingly:

If they say the markings are fading away, she'll be happy and be grateful that their leaving her skin

If they say the markings are growing more opaque, she'll get angry very fast and probably deck them with whatever she as in her hand(items she as equipped).

Scars

Issal as severe nerve damage, so she is prone to injuring herself without realizing it.

It's just that she gets so wrapped up in her hypotheses/experiments that she doesn't realize she's hurting herself.

In Act One if you have Karlach in the party and don't immediately upgrade her engine, Issal would get curious about it and stick her hands in Karlach's chest and stay there (She is surprisingly strong STR 16)

Queue screaming from Karlach and Issal nearly losing her HANDS, but Issal would happily deduce what's exactly wrong with an unphased look

"Why are you mad?

"Oh, my hands?"

" Don't worry I can't feel a thing!"

" Really? Your still Mad?"

Low Wisdom(8) Low Charisma(8) girlie

Most would think her burn scars were from experiments gone wrong or malfunctions with her flintlocks

But no, there chemicals burns are from drider venom..

Alot of her sisters failed those Trials..

She just wanted to see that they were still in there, pass all those fangs..

Her voice claim mentioned looking/knowing a cure for a reason

Monocle

Issal's monocle's base is from a Gith eye patch Initially, a gift from Khal'ian when her left eye lost some vision

She built upon it for magnificent purposes, it's one of the most treasured things she owns

Welp I'll send more lore later!

God I love her, she's so doctor jekyll coded omfg. Low wis and charis really make the best tone deaf scientists who are out of the social norms.

That Karlach scene would be so hilarious, just her hand sizzling like fried burgers and Karlach losing her mind while Isaal is like.

"Hmm hmm I see I see."

There zero sense of self-preservation for science too. It's the cherry on top. Sol would probably approve of this, they are very pro-"dying for yourself/cause you pick" kind of person.

Isaal wanna be chucked into a den of spiders to check something? Sol is down. You don't even have to lift a finger. They'll pick Isaal up, fly then, and drop her off with an approval nod of their head. Low wis gang interactions.

Also, the fact she just slams Durge/Tav with a random equipped item she has if they tell her the marks are not fading, love the anger issues. Sol would walk up to her and claim "hey Gale said magic is better than science, and he is smarter than you," and watch the random items flying down on Gale like arrows.

Meanwhile poor Gale only claimed that he can beat Isaal at chess because magic requires more strategy than science.

The monocole part aaa my heart <333 imagining this cold calculated scientist women having only one soft spot for the wise softspoken githzerai guy <333 it's so wholesome.

[skullsandwineglasses]

The Rebel Princess - Final Review (SPOILERS)

I tend to be quite critical right after I watch the finale of a drama since emotions are high, so my review might be a little harsh. My feelings might simmer over the next few days while I digest things, but for now, I’ll break down my impressions into 3 parts: The “Good”, The “Didn’t Make Sense”, and The “Could Have Been Better”. 

The “Good” 

The final scene. That’s the first immediate good thing that comes to mind. That’s probably the only good thing tbh. To be clear, these last 5 episodes weren’t bad. Everyone got their comeuppance, our leads live happily ever after, and Wang Su finally sees the light and goes against Daddy Wang by saving baby Jing’er. But, there were quite a number of things that frustrated me while watching. 

I will note one other good thing, which is that we got to see our favourite OTP act out a show to misdirect the rebels in hiding and lure them out. We finally get to see our leads collaborating and putting their smarts together! But, this meant that they had to separate again for the millionth time in this drama. And even though it was just an act, the fake confrontation scene between them still stung. As a trashy romantic, I wish we got to see more scenes of them together, especially towards the end of the drama. 

The “Didn’t Make Sense”

But because we finally get to see them work together, I wished we got to see more scenes with them plotting together. This is the first time that they’re working together to uncover a political plot, and yet it’s only relegated to one short conversation scene between them after Awu returns from meeting with her brother who refuses to tell her who’s behind the scenes pulling the ropes. 

ALSO, the drama never really addressed how Xiao Qi kind of handwaved Zitan’s involvement in the Neem Yu Shan plot. How did Xiao Qi go from “I need to have vengeance for my betrayed fallen soldiers” to “I need to help uncover the plot against the crown”. It’s kind of implied that Awu might have already told Xiao Qi about the truth before Song Huaien does, but the drama never makes that clear because we never see that scene if there was one. If Xiao Qi learns about the truth from Song Huaien first, does he then talk about to Awu? Again, we don’t know because it’s never shown to us. Instead, right after we see him learn about it from Huaien, it then immediately cuts to the confrontation scene with Awu. BUT, since this confrontation scene was revealed to be planned by them, it means that they’ve already discussed the Zitan problem in private beforehand, and Xiao Qi already knows that Awu knows, but we never see this conversation. It’s also revealed that they’ve long been suspicious of Huaien, but when did this suspicion start? Again, we don’t see this conversation. We just have to guess. 

This is just one example of how these last 5 episodes made it VERY obvious where scenes were deleted. A lot of scenes were cut abruptly where one scene would suddenly cut to the next, and you kind of had to infer what happened between those scenes. Things still made sense and you could still follow along, but you could tell that they cut out scenes that would have helped flesh things out and make the transitions smoother.

Villains: Nearly every villain in the drama (Jin’er, Zitan, and Song Huaien) turned back into their “good” old selves again during their downfall. And because of this, it made the finale of the drama pretty underwhelming. Jin’er expressed how she misses the old days to Awu and calls Awu one of the most important people in her life, Zitan sees the light and promises to yield the throne to his nephew and face punishment for his actions, and Song Huaien uses his last dying breath to ask Xiao Qi to take him back to Ning Shuo and how he doesn’t want to be in the capital anymore (when he literally has an arrow to the heart while sitting on the throne he just stole). These characters take an abrupt 180 degree turn when they’ve been blind with envy and hatred for most of the drama. Just moments ago they were shooting daggers out of their eyes, and then suddenly they regret everything they’ve done. Their downfall felt too easy, and their redemption felt even easier and unearned. And Awu forgives all of them (as expected). When she pitied Zitan, I was like, girl, he doesn’t deserve your pity. I get that she needs him to sober up in order to discourage the rebels, but still. He had his own brother killed and tried to have her husband killed. Instead she consoles him like a lost puppy. I know that Awu’s a saintly character, and I’ve talked about the virtues of her character before, but sometimes I wish she’d be a little less saintly. 

I think Daddy Wang’s final scene fit most well with his character. He’s defeated, but doesn’t entirely express regret for his actions. Which makes sense for his character. He’s never doubted his decisions all throughout the drama, so why would he start now. Even when Awu asks him if he ever loved her mother, he doesn’t answer her. Instead, he deflects the question back to her to ask if she loves Xiao Qi or Zitan, which is such a laughable question. How is Zitan even still considered a potential love interest for Awu at this point? In response, Awu tells him “此愛非彼愛”. Which I’m still trying to interpret?? To directly translate it, it would translate to “this love is not (comparable to?) love”. I’m having trouble interpreting  非 彼. 非彼 means “not comparable to”. Is Awu saying that this love isn’t comparable to another love? Is she saying that this love isn’t considered love? Love for whom? Is she taking about her love for Xiao Qi and how it’s not considered “love”. Does she mean what she feels for him is more than love, or different from love? Or, does she mean her past love for Zitan isn’t love? Why is her response so vague? Her dad asks her if she loves Xiao Qi or Zitan, and she instead gives him such a dense, poetic response. Maybe my mandarin isn’t up to par to translate these historical dialogues, so I’ll be curious to see how the subs translate this line. Anyway, in the end, Awu asks her father if he would agree to being buried next to her mother, and after ignoring the question for a bit, he finally says that he wants to be buried next to her.

The treatment of women: The Elder Princess and Yu Xiu both sacrificed themselves in hopes of getting their loved ones to stop rebelling. And then Awu pulls the same move with her father in order to remind him what her mother had done in hopes of stopping him. And this was after we see Hu Yao and Nanny Xu needlessly die in the previous episodes. So all these female deaths and sacrifices made it feel like the female characters in the drama are disposable and can be easily killed off by the writers. It just didn’t really sit well with me that on 3 instances in this drama, a female character tries to use herself as leverage against a male character who’s about to commit treason. I’m also still not over Hu Yao’s death at the hands of Song Huaien, and we never get to see a proper burial for her because she’s a minor character, so the drama couldn’t be bothered to show it. The Dowager Empress also had a very anticlimactic end. She was such a major player pre-episode 50, and then suddenly she was bedridden and only heard about palace news from her maid and wasn’t able to exert much influence over the court. It was a little disappointing that we don’t get to see her wield any of her old power again after episode 50.

The “Could Have Been Better”

This might be unpopular opinion but, I think Awu and Xiao Qi kind of lost their spark in the last couple of episodes, or at least, it’s more subtle now. Probably because the plot was focused on bigger things, which I understand. These are the final episodes after all. They’re also a long-married couple now, they don’t need to constantly reaffirm their love to us. And the final scene was sweet, so I shouldn’t be complaining, but I wish we got more scenes of them alone together. I said this in a reply on another post, but their sexual tension peaked during the early episodes of the drama. It’s too bad we don’t see that level of chemistry again.

Something that I found funny was how we see Awu stand next to Zitan by the throne twice to protect him. The setup was almost exactly the same between the two scenes where Awu stands to his right. It was like the writers couldn’t figure out a new configuration for how to block the scene. The first time was during the “pretend confrontation” with Xiao Qi, and the second time was against Huaien. I just felt the the repeat setup of this scene was kind of boring and uncreative to watch. It was like the writers couldn’t come up with another way to stage a potential rebellion, so we’ll just have Zitan be cornered around on the throne twice. 

Also, Huaien wanting to suddenly take the throne and also Awu as his Empress? First of all, I don’t understand why people, who don’t have the approval of the masses, always want to become Emperor. Do they not realize that by forcibly seizing power, you’re going to lose it just as quickly because no one likes you and they’ll try to take you down? I have the same criticism for Daddy Wang and Zitan. But does Huaien think that he has enough military power to become Emperor? And unlike Daddy Wang, Huaien doesn’t have any significant political impact over the lords. Also, does he think that Xiao Qi would just never come back? Second, him asking Awu to become his wife? We don’t really see him feeling tortured over his affection for Awu again since his wedding with Yu Xiu, and now suddenly, years later, it’s revealed that he still yearns for her? And he declares his love right after stabbing her dad? I mean, writers, please. I know you want to create drama, but it has to make sense.

To be honest, I’ve always found Huaien’s character arc a little hard to believe. He’s such a noble character for the first third of the drama, and then it’s revealed that he’s always secretly harboured a greedy side. A side that craves status and recognition. He then downward spirals into this monster who kills nannies and female comrades and wants to be emperor. We see small hints of his desire for the throne, like when he eyes Daddy Wang’s tailor-made royal robes. But this desire is not fleshed out enough. Huaien’s arc could have worked, but because the drama didn’t focus enough on his internal struggle at the beginning since he isn’t the main character, the change felt abrupt. I don’t know how the book handled it, so I can’t speak to that. 

Things just escalate so quickly in this drama. I can now see AvenueX’s criticisms about the political plot of this drama and how it looks like it could have be written by a 10 year old. The writers seem to want to make things as surprising as possible, while also using a lot of old tropes that it becomes predictable. It’s very unrealistic. And the villains’ motivations and ambitions seem limitless. It felt like anyone could lay claim to the throne. 

The political scheming in this drama has never impressed me, so I suppose that I shouldn’t be surprised that these last few episodes were just as lukewarm. The problem with the political plot of this drama is that there were no smart characters except Daddy Wang. It’s just a bunch of drama queens(TM) who want power, but do a poor job of thinking things through. 

The highlight of the drama was the romance, which was a huge surprise since I didn’t start watching this drama for the romance. And yet, despite the romance being the highlight, the OTP is constantly being separated, and we barely got to see them together in the last few episodes. And the scenes that they did have together in these last few episodes weren’t memorable. If anything, their chemistry kind of fell apart during these episodes because we barely see them communicate directly with each other. 

Final Thoughts

Overall, I’d still recommend this drama just for the leads alone. You don’t see that kind of chemistry in idol dramas, and I don’t know when we’ll be able to see this level of acting between two well-matched actors in dramas again. Watching them is almost like a once-in-a-life-timeline thing. However, I think the average viewer might become frustrated with Awu halfway through. The drama’s also very bingeable (in fact it should be binged, instead of dragged on for almost 2 months). I think I would have enjoyed more if I watched all the episodes at once, instead of waiting for episodes as they came out every week, which meant that while waiting, I started to pick apart little issues that I had with the drama. 

[tanoraqui]

Grave dirt baby... 🥺✨

me, procrastinating my actual fic? no... GRAVE DIRT BABY A-YUAN

HEY TUMBLR FUCKED UP ALL MY BULLET POINTS ON THIS THE SECOND I HIT POST BUT IT’S 4AM SO I’M LEAVING IT UP ANYWAY. STUPID GODDAMN WEBSITE.

Wei Wuxian has been in the Burial Mounds for like 2.5 months out of what he doesn’t yet know will be about 3. He’s not even sure he’s going to survive yet. But he has managed to manifest an evil sword - the evil sword - out of the aether/ambient resentful energy/an attunement set with an unwise touch in the belly of an evil turtle

and he does know that he’s not going to survive if he doesn’t get the power of the Burial Mounds under some sort of control

so he cuts his arm and with blood running down the blade, draws something adjacent to the first demon-summoning flag but as an array in the dirt. He stands in the middle and - keep in mind that he more or less hasn’t slept in 2.5 months - plunges the sword into the center, still coated in his blood, and draws in all the resentful energy of the Burial Mounds

was it supposed to go into the sword? Into himself? Into just the single 4ft diameter array area, a column of bound death? who knows, not Wei Wuxian! it’s pure gut instinct

u know what else works on gut instinct, thought? Fairy tales.

And in a fairy tale, why, clay of the earth plus iron enough for a blade plus still-warm blood to show the way...

There’s an implosion and Wei Wuxian is standing - somehow still standing - in a small crater where the array used to be, and his evil sword is plunged into the belly of a baby

He yanks it out in horrified reflex, and realizes a moment later that the baby seems unfazed by this. If there was even a wound, it closes before his eyes, and the glimpse he had showed something more bloody clay than flesh beneath the skin

the iron sword crumbles as he pulls it away, as though rusted a thousand years. the baby turns its head from the iron shavings that falls on it, but then reaches up for Wei Wuxian with a cheerfully demanding cry

he picks it up, of course. (he’d think he was hallucinating if he wasn’t absolutely and utterly aware that he’s not)

it is, as far as he can tell, with physical and spiritual resentful inspection, an absolutely normal baby

oh, except when he looks really closely. Then he can sense the neutron star–dense knot of resentful energy where a golden core might (but will definitely not have room to) form. Also, it can command the dead, and when he holds it, so can he. He’s not sure if it’s a proximity-based power share or if he’s passing his desires through the baby, but even Wei Wuxian, at about 3 months with no food save the rage of the dead and no rest save the promise of final release, has to stop investigating at some point. He has things to do!

specifically, he has Wens to kill

so instead of the iconic shot of the dark flautist in the moonlight, we get the dark, uh...man singing a very spooky lullaby to his baby in the moonlight. It is still deeply creepy. It’s a making-it-up-as-he-goes tune based on a Yunmengi lullaby that he certainly learned from neither of his foster parents, and the lyrics are along the lines of, “let them remember what they did, sweet little potato, let them remember why they’re dying”

yeah he’s been calling this child “Little Potato” for 2 weeks 

why

is that not how you name a child

sometimes when he’s more annoyed at it, he calls it “Little Radish”, or even less appetizing root vegetables

by the time he walks in, the baby is asleep in his arms and he’s not singing anymore, just letting the dead do his will. This is what Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji see. The subsequent conversation, Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu at their feet, goes like this:

LWJ: Wei Ying. You have a baby.

WWX: Oh, uh...

PLAY DUMB!

WWX: What baby?

NOT THAT DUMB!

WWX: Oh, this baby! Haha yeah. I...found it.

JC: What the fuck

WWX: Yeah, weird, right? Right near the, uh...

LWJ: They said you were in the Burial Mounds

WWX: Yyyyup. Yes that is. I found this baby by the side of the road after I walked out of the Burial Mounds.

JC, briefly too morbidly fascinated to think about either the demonic cultivation they just watched or the fact that he wants to hug his brother like he’s never wanted to hug another being in his life: What did you name it?

WWX: ....

JC, desire to hug intensifying together with exasperation: oh my god

Sometime in the next couple days - after sleeping a bit, maybe - it occurs to Wei Wuxian that his raw instincts were right and things will go very badly for little A-Yuan (his siblings insisted he name it) if anyone finds out that he’s a not-yet-walking, not-yet-talking little neuron star of resentful energy. So he takes the iron shavings that are all that remain of the Stygian Turtle Sword and forges them into a Tiger-shaped Seal. He also carves a bamboo flute, like he’d been thinking about before the whole...baby thing. He loudly proclaims both to be dark and terrible weapons

(it really is helpful. The sword was...kind of A-Yuan’s other parent, after all, in addition to their third partner, the Burial Mounds. Chenqing gives him finer control of whatever stray resentful energy he chooses to pick up, and the Stygian Seal lets him channel A-Yuan’s power at need, even when not touching him. Which is good - a battlefield is no place for a baby)

even if that baby thinks ghosts and ghouls exist to pick him up and rock him or toss him around (babies like to be tossed)

Wei Wuxian puts so many goddamn spirit-repelling charms on that child, and lets it be marked down to the paranoia of a survivor

using whatever resentful energy he picks up is generally more effective, actually. Less strong, but it quickly becomes clear that the way this works does, in fact, involve Wei Wuxian communicating his desires through A-Yuan, or at least A-Yuan has to put up with the loan of power. There’s nothing quite like abruptly losing control of a field of corpses because the baby got abruptly uncooperative with anything that wasn’t barfing

the baby does eat, for the record. As far as Wei Wuxian can tell, he doesn’t actually need to, but once WWX fed him once, when they first left the Mounds, he wanted it all the time

he still takes A-Yuan with him when he can. That is the paranoia of a survivor. A-Yuan is...

“A battlefield is no place for a baby, A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli says gently, as he sets out from Carp Tower after another stolen visit, another failed attempt to convince Jin Guangshan off his ass. “And you are...so busy. LanlingJin takes in orphans, you know...”

“A-Yuan...he’s my blood,” Wei Wuxian says quietly. He’s never been good at lying to his shijie

Whatwherewhenhowwho, he’d see on her face if he was looking at it. But he isn’t. It’s not shame, though, she can see (it really never is, with Wei Wuxian). Fear of disappointing her, slight resignation...but mostly acceptance. Determination. Something almost like contentment.

(When Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangj first took him back to whatever resembled a base camp - somewhere in Qinghe, probably, or maybe Lanling - he had to let a trained healer look at A-Yuan, physical and spiritual examination, and he held his breath and calculated how many people he’d have to kill to get out of here, how fast he’d have to move to not hurt his brother or any particular friends; thought, oh, he’s mine, in a way he hadn’t before - as a child, a son, not just a very strange weapon - 

“He’s quite healthy,” said the doctor, mildly surprised, bouncing A-Yuan on one knee. A-Yuan gurgled happily. “About three months old?”

the longer Wei Wuxian took to answer, the more disapproving her stare got. But that did make sense)

Then all else can be dealt with later. “You should still leave him here,” Jiang Yanli says firmly. “You need to look after yourself and A-Cheng out there. I can look after A-Yuan.”

It takes a bit under two years to win back the lost and burnt territories, scour the Wens out of every crevice, corner Wen Ruohan in his precious Nightless City and bring it tumbling down. Nobody will know the timing but A-Yuan sleeps through the final battle, smiling at dreams that would make a grown man weep in horror. Somewhere, his father is playing a lullaby

About a week later, Jiang Cheng stalks into Wei Wuxian’s bedroom, which he shares with A-Yuan. One of the first rooms rebuilt in the new Lotus Pier. A-Yuan is there, too, playing with blocks while Wei Wuxian idly drafts talismans

“A-jie said the kid is yours,” he says, crossed arms. “Like, yours-yours. When the fuck did you do that?”

(Wei Wuxian has thought about this, by now; gone over the pros and cons of every possibility, the politics and potentials and maybe even the giddy possibility of telling something like the truth)

(the guiding principle is: he has no interest in drawing on the “Stygian Tiger Seal” ever again. The Sunshot Campaign is over. His loved ones are safe, and he sees no reason why they shouldn’t all live long, happy, normal lives)

(also/though, he will burn Jin Sect, Carp Tower, and all of Lanling to the ground before the new Chief Cultivator should touch his son)

“In Caiyi,” he lies. “Right before I got kicked out. I, uh, snuck out a lot more often than you noticed.”

His brother squints at him suspiciously. But Wei Wuxian can also watch him do the math in his head and reluctantly admit that it works.

“So are you claiming him or what?” he challenges. “’Wei Yuan’? You have a courtesy name - wait, no, you are not naming that kid again. You’re going to make his courtesy name be Carrothead or something.” 

“Should I let you pick it, oh wise and noble shidi - no, shushu?!” Wei Wuxian teases, as A-Yuan gets tired of his blocks and starts climbing up him like a jungle gym

Jiang Cheng sighs like the north wind - gusting long and hard, with just the faintest chill to suggest that the skies will be weeping, soon

But...

Despite some evidence to the contrary, Wei Wuxian is generally fully aware of when he’s about to cross a line that cannot be backtracked over. So he meets Wen Qing in the city, and before going to Lanling, he nips into Lotus Pier and picks up A-Yuan

He might leave A-Yuan with Wen Qing in the city when he goes to Glamour Hall, but Qiongqi Pass happens with a toddler watching silently from Wei Wuxian’s hip. Does Wei Wuxian tell him to look away, bury his face in baba’s shirt, or does he not bother, knowing the sort of song that makes up A-Yuan’s sweet dreams?

The Wens become the second through 51st or so people who learn what A-Yuan is. Wei Wuxian briefly considers trying to hide it, but, honestly, there are dead things everywhere on the Burial Mounds, and despite his genuine efforts, he cannot convince A-Yuan that a fierce corpse is anything but the ideal patty-cake companion. (They’ll play with him for hours! It’s a two-nearly-three-year-old’s dream!)

(he doesn’t want to convince him, not really. The last thing he wants to do ever is give A-Yuan anything to be scared of)

nor could he possibly wish that A-Yuan not be...obviously hale and hearty, running rosy-cheeked and strong around these hills of death that slowly seep the energy from any humans, animals, or even sturdy root crops

“So, uh, this is actually my demon baby,” said Wei Wuxian as they all settled in

“this day has been so weird already, this might as well goddamn happen”, said the Wens collectively

“You created a living child out of dead earth, so I’m going to take that as a yes that you can bring my brother back,” said Wen Qing specifically

“...fuck. I mean, yes. I mean - fuck,” said Wei Wuxian. “I- of course I will.”

(it doesn’t work like that, though)

The 52nd person to find out what A-Yuan is is Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian very much does not tell him. They have a pleasant toy-shopping trip and lunch in town, and then the alarm talisman goes off and Wei Wuxian grabs A-Yuan and Lan Wangji tugs them both onto Bichen and when they arrive, Wen Ning is roaring. Lan Wangji knows what’s important; he takes A-Yuan so Wei Wuxian’s hands are free and he doesn’t have to worry about his son

except Wen Ning, black-eyed with rage, throws Wei Wuxian into a tree hard enough to crack a rib, and even as Lan Wangji raises Bichen, A-Yuan shouts,

“Uncle Ning, stop!”

and Wen Ning stops

(as a rule, Wei Wuxian can’t take over with himself and Chenqing anything A-Yuan is controlling, unless A-Yuan lets him, and vice versa. To eliminate variables, Wei Wuxian had made sure that any reins on Wen Ning were his (Wei Wuxian’s) alone. But in that moment, before Wen Ning came fully back to himself, his reins were swinging free - and they were back within the bounds of the Burial Mounds, where A-Yuan was always strong)

and Lan Wangji puts several pieces together at once and prays to every single god in heaven and every ancestor he’s disappointing right now that this was a miracle of love and a very cute child piercing through a fierce corpse’s mindless rampage. That he simply...hallucinated the burst of resentful energy he just felt from the child in his arms

but he’s absolutely, utterly aware that he didn’t

Wei Wuxian explains, stilted and awkward at the bottom of the hill. Challenging and terrified. Holding on to A-Yuan. 

Lan Wangji promises to keep the secret. 

Wei Wuxian takes Hanguang-jun’s word

Remember, oh, remember, that Wei Wuxian walks A-Yuan back up the hill until A-Yuan gets tired and Wei Wuxian picks him up, on their one-and-a-half–man plank bridge through the dark. Remember remember remember that before he can finish speaking that line, there is light - the clearing is lit with lanterns and secret-keepers 2 through 51, and I suppose 53 now that Wen Ning is awake, are waiting with dinner and warmth and welcome. Reader, remember this.

But then...

Aunt Qing and Uncle Ning had gone, and then, with a terrible expression on his face, so had A-Yuan’s baba. Now his baba’s anger and sadness is so strong that the weight of it makes A-Yuan cry from hundreds of miles away, and he curls into Granny’s arms and sends his baba everything he can. Will everything be okay, then? Will everyone come home; will they be able to smile again?

(oh, A-Yuan...)

(No.)

A-Yuan - Wei Yuan, Little Potato (when he’s good for baba or bad for Aunt Qing) or Little Radish (inverse); one day to be Lan Yuan, Lan Sizhui - was born in the good old fairy tale way of earth and iron and blood. It’s a hard thing for any child to lose even a single parent - in one day, in one minute, A-Yuan loses two of three, as the father of his blood burns away in hand the last shreds of Stygian iron, and promptly loses control of his own resentful energy

(the Tiger Seal does nothing like explode, in this world. It was never more than a prop - but a vital one. the benefit of proving it destroyed would be worth the loss of a parent, if only a second didn’t follow on its heels)

A-Yuan has been a dead thing (or close enough) come to life all his life, and both dead and living have been his friends and family. But he’s never felt the transition the other way: from life to death

It’s no wonder, really, that he can’t remember it afterward. No wonder that even on the land that was the last part of him, he was feverish and barely conscious when Lan Wangji stumbled, bleeding, off of Bichen, and took in his arms. No wonder that he remembered very little at all, including the dead. 

But he would be okay. Under physical and spiritual inspection, he’s a perfectly normal boy. He may not be able to form a golden core (there's something in the way), but there are...workarounds. He’ll grow up in one of the most heavily spiritually warded enclaves in the world, safe and loved as he relearns (mostly in secret) what he can do

(For the sake of this story, and A-Yuan’s survival as something close to canon, let’s say there are some truly dark things in the forbidden section of the Lan Library, that could only be used for nefarious purposes - though, I suppose we already knew that. Let’s say there are talismans that will disguise the very nature of qi, so resentful energy may appear spiritual. Let’s say, Lan Xichen becomes the 53rd to know the truth, because his brother needs help - and it’s Wei Wuxian’s child, okay? It’s just Wei Wuxian’s child, quiet and unsure rather than laughing as he always was. If you were in the inner circle of leaders of the Sunshot Campaign, you have absolutely met this child, probably held him and bounced him on one knee)

(What keeps Lan Xichen up at night isn’t the concealing amulet he helped his brother make, which Lan Yuan wears at all times around his neck. It’s the silence he keeps every time he meets Jiang Wanyin’s eyes over a diplomatic table. If anyone had the right to know Wei Yuan survived... But Sandu Sengshou killed Wei Wuxian, everyone knows that, and now he hunts demonic cultivators - what might his pride drive him to do to his nephew, if he ever learned the truth? (Selfishly, Lan Xichen know that if Lan Wangji lost A-Yuan, even just to living at Lotus Pier, Lan Xichen might lose his brother. That fear ebbs with time passing, but the the longer he hasn’t spoken, the worse it would be to do so...))

They don’t restrict Lan Yuan to the Cloud Recesses, no more than any other novice. For memory of their mother, neither of them could bear that. Jiang Cheng does eventually see him at a conference, and stops dead. Years have passed, but that is an entire goddamn nephew, right there. But - how? No, it can’t be. That’s...everyone knows Lan Wangji hated Wei Wuxian. It’s just...and someone would have told him. The Lans value propriety above all, after all.

Anything that can be done with spiritual cultivation can be done with demonic cultivation, save heal. Lan Sizhui makes up for it with an encyclopedic knowledge of undead and monsters, and a prodigal talent for Inquiry

On their first night hunt, the young juniors face ghosts. Unfortunately, this is when Lan Jingyi learns that he’s terrified of ghosts. He’s hiding behind Lan Sizhui and panic is contagious, and the senior accompanying them is in a different room of the abandoned house, and Lan Sizhui forgets that he’s holding a sword and just shouts, “Stop! Go away!” 

the ghost, of course, obeys

Lan Jingyi peeks out form behind him. “Did- did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Lan Sizhui admits (except that he’s absolutely sure he did)

There’s another flicker of movement, just the wind blowing ashes but Jingyi whips around with wild eyes. “Can you do it again?”

[friendship. my point is, he’s a demon baby but he has family and friends who love and accept him.]

And one day, some absolute fucking morons are going to bring him back home, where he can never be anything but strong, and threaten his friends and family? And the threat is an army of his old playmates, commanded by an attempt at recreating some combination of Chenqing and the Tiger Seal? He couldn’t manage it in Yi City, but now A-Yuan, Wei Yuan, Lan Sizhui stands on earth that has never stopped being part of him, or maybe he’s never stopped being part of it. If he closed his eyes he could feel every foot on it, living and restless dead. And they’re threatening his baba - who he remembers, as the earth remembers its old partner, even though the blood is changed - and his father Hanguang-jun, and his extended family and friends?

No.

[shalebridge-cradle]

When You Smile and it Tears Your Face (It’s Time for the Inhuman Race)

Warnings: Blood. Implied Violence.

“Anna?”

Anna von Kleve, former minor noble of the Holy Roman Empire, pries open her eyes. It’s well into the night – the heavy curtains are drawn, as usual, the grandfather clock is ticking away, and the electric light flickers ominously above her.

She herself is sprawled on the sofa, with her date’s head in her lap. Ah, yes. A night on the town, a few drinks (well, more than a few on her part)… she hopes he’d had a good time.

“In the drawing room,” she calls, lazily.

“Have you seen my book?”

Anna has seen lots of her housemate’s beloved books. So very many volumes she’s collected over the years – in her day, the emperor himself would be hard-pressed to afford such a selection. Still, she’s proud it was a German who invented the printing press and started the whole thing off.

“Which one?”

“Pride and Prejudice, volume three. It’s got a red-brown cover.”

von Kleve frowns, looks around herself, lifts up her date to check under him.

She grimaces.

If the book didn’t have a red cover to begin with, it certainly did now. She never intends for the whole biting-people-and-drinking-their-blood business to be messy, but it always ends up that way. Strange how that happens.

She quickly drops the man’s unconscious body back on top of the book, just as her housemate materialises in the doorway.

Catherine Parr sighs. “Seriously? What have I told you about putting down plastic when you bring your food home?”

“I know, but we get kind of… into it, you know? You know me, I live in the moment – well, not live, but… you get what I’m saying.”

“That’s the problem, hence, the need for plastic.”

A pause.

Anna knows what she’s about to say, and preempts her. “No, not your type. Not terrible, but he couldn’t talk about anything that wasn’t his football team.”

“Oh. A pity.” Another pause. “Have you seen my book, though?”

“No books here. Did you leave it at Seymour’s?”

Parr hums. “Possibly. I’ll visit later. It’s your job to get rid of the poor soul, though.”

“Yes, yes, personal responsibility and all that.”

Before Anna leaves, she tucks the first edition under the sofa cushions, and hopes her housemate doesn’t look that hard for her precious book.

~~~

The shovel plunges deep into the black, wet soil, and out again. In, out, in, out, methodical and practiced. The hole needs to be deep enough, and wide enough. She’s underestimated the size before, and that simply causes problems. There are bits that need to stay underground.

Once she is satisfied, and with great care, Jane Seymour places the rose bush into its new home.

Gardening might be considered an odd hobby for someone like her to have. Even if she rarely gets to see the fruits of her labour (which is most certainly a metaphor for something), it keeps her busy and helps her feel productive. It’s terribly easy to fall into a rut if you don’t have something to do, and caring for plants gives her plenty of that.

Just so long as they survive everything.

There is a loud bang from inside the house. Jane turns briefly, listening for something further, before she goes back to patting down the soil.

Another bang, followed by a crash.

Jane squeezes her eyes shut, and growls under her breath. That had better not be anything important.

Really, she should go in and stop them from doing any more damage, but they’d probably just ignore her like they usually do. Maybe you shouldn’t have your thrice-bedamned battle in the house, where there are things that you both like and are easily breakable all over the place. Is that such an unreasonable concept?

A third bang.

“For heaven’s sake,” she grumbles, and makes to get up, turning to her gardening tools. Initially, she shies away from some of them out of instinct, but… then again… this may the only way they’ll listen…

-

The fearsome duel is still going on when Jane reaches the hall.

One combatant has a name she knows well, mostly because she insists on using the whole thing whenever she is introduced. Catalina Trastámara de Aragón, former Spanish infanta. The other has gone by many different but similar names – Anna de Boullan, Anna Bolina, Nan Bullen, but she generally responds to ‘Anne’, so that’s what they go with.

Catalina has her hand around Anne’s neck, hoisting her up in the air, whilst Anne has a hold on Catalina’s arm, hissing up a storm. Another bang – Catalina slamming Anne against the wall – sends a cloud of dust trickling down on top of them.

Jane enters, in her gardening smock, boots too big for her, a straw hat (you must always wear a hat while gardening, though Jane isn’t sure why), and with a wooden gardening stake in each hand.

“Down! Both of you!”

Anne turns her head slightly, and her eyes widen when she sees what Jane’s holding. “Shit.”

This gets Catalina’s attention, too, but she manages to keep the quiet part quiet. She releases her grip, and Anne sinks to the floor.

“What are you doing?” Catalina recovers her regal demeanour, or at least part of it. “Have you gone quite mad?”

“Have you? Look at what you’re doing! What on earth is noble and queenly about repeatedly smacking your housemate into a wall?!” Jane stops to compose herself. “What is it this time? Territorial dispute? Long-standing grudge you refuse to talk about? Monopoly?”

“Anne? How many glasses would you say are in the sink?”

...No.

Anne rubs her neck. “Well, maybe less if you weren’t such a toff and drank like the rest of us.”

That can’t be right. Was that it?

“Unlike you, I like to keep some of my dignity about me.”

“Oh, don’t you fucking talk to me about dignity -”

Jane is between them in a blink. “Anne, do the bloody dishes.” Anne groans, probably at the unintended pun, but is interrupted. “We have the chore wheel for a reason. We have standards.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I know. Dishes now, fight later.”

Anne huffs, and stomps into the kitchen. Jane’s attention turns to Catalina, who is trying very hard to suppress the smug smile on her face.

“How many languages to you know, Catalina?” She already knows the answer to this question, but Catalina will happily tell her anyway.

“Five. Spanish, Latin, French, Greek, English.”

“Five languages, and you still don’t know how to use your words?”

Catalina simply stares at her.

“You would have been very upset if you knocked any of your paintings down, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, but we couldn’t take it outside. You would have been upset if we crushed your plants.”

“Well, that simply reinforces my point. Violence is very rarely the answer when it comes to who you live with.”

“You’re threatening me with a lethal weapon right now.”

Oh, right, she forgot about them. Jane looks down at the stakes, flinches again, and throws them unceremoniously to one side. “Fine. We all need to work on discussing things, and remember we all have our part to play. Anne’s doing the dishes now -” There’s a clatter from the kitchen – “I’ve been taking out the rubbish; can you tell me your royal responsibility, or do I have to check?”

Catalina’s eyes are everywhere but on Jane. She brushes a bit of powder off of her sleeve, and mumbles “Dusting.”

~~~

“Look what I found.”

Parr looks up. It is a whole entire person Anna has come to show off, which usually isn’t something Catherine needs to see – it does not pay to get attached. This girl has her long hair tied up, dyed an almost neon pink at the ends, and is clad in one of Anna’s oversized fur coats. She seems to be faltering under Parr’s gaze, trying to make herself look as small and insignificant as possible.

“I see no plastic in the drawing room,” Catherine says to von Kleve, as a warning.

“What? No! No, no, no. Not that. Big smile, Katie.”

The girl’s lips curl into a rictus grin, revealing a set of fangs not unlike Parr’s own.

“Oh!” Immediately, Catherine’s attitude shifts, and speaks with a soft, comforting voice (she hopes), “Okay, hello. I’m Catherine Parr, of the Westmorland Parrs, and this is Anna von Jülich-Kleve-Berg of the Holy Roman Empire. Neither of us are going to hurt you. Please, take a seat.”

She gestures to a nearby chair. The girl walks over to it, unsteady on her feet, and sits down.

“It’s been a bad week,” she mumbles.

“Tell us about it.”

“Well, it started with a night I couldn’t remember, which always freaks me out, and then I was really sick, and then I’m pretty sure I died – no, I did die… I died…” She goes quiet once more, aghast at the revelation.

“Found her ripping some dude’s throat out behind a nightclub,” Anna explains, then shrugs. “It happens.”

The girl shuts her eyes tightly, as if she is trying to block out the memory. Parr takes her hand, and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Katie, is it?”

“Or Kate. Or Kat, or Katherine – but, that’s you as well. I’m rambling.”

“That’s alright. The transition can be stressful. May I call you Kat?”

Kat nods.

“Good. Now, from what you’ve told us, it sounds like nobody explained to you how this works. What is it that you think is going on?”

“’M a vampire. Right?” Parr hums an affirmation, and Kat laughs, without humour. “And, because I’m a vampire, and I was going insane with how thirsty I was and because he wouldn’t stop talking and he kept touching me after I told him not to…” She looks to Anna. “That man. He was my boyfriend. I killed my boyfriend.”

It’s usually cold in the house, but it seems to get even colder after that statement.

While Catherine intimately knows the feeling of wanting to murder your former significant others (Thomas – Foul rake! Blackguard! She shall curse his name after death and beyond!), she is aware that this may not be the case for Kat. Most couples these days actually quite like each other – one need not rely on a husband to vote for them anymore, after all. She’s been looking out for someone like that, but she hasn’t found them yet. Maybe someday.

There have been so very many days…

Thankfully, Anna is there with a kind word, so she need not answer nor dwell on her failure to find love. It is just one word, however, and it is not spoken with great compassion.

“Condolences?”

Kat waves a hand, shakes her head. “The only good thing about dating Francis is – was – that he gave me a place to stay. Everything else… I don’t think anyone will be that upset he’s dead, put it that way.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “It was so easy. Too easy.”

Well, it’s good to know that nothing of value was lost, at least.

“Subtlety and control are the results of practice,” Catherine tells the girl, “and that will come, in time. Until then, since the one who turned you is not around to help, I humbly request that you allow us to assist you.”

“We have a spare room. Um. Not that you have to take it, or anything, but the option’s there -”

Kat cuts Anna off. Nobody’s had the gall to do that for centuries.

“Why are you doing this? Any of this?! You want something from me, don’t you? Otherwise, I’d still be out there, dealing with my boyfriend’s corpse! Be honest with me, please. What is it you want me to do?!”

She is looking into both of their eyes, searching for an ulterior motive like she knows it’s there – Parr gets that, unfortunately, and she’s disgusted that something has happened to the poor girl to prompt such suspicion and mistrust.

Catherine does not raise her voice, speaks calmly and carefully, just like she was taught. “We are not doing this in the hopes of a favour, or any material gain. We – or, at least, I – am behaving in this way because I want to see you turn out well. Perhaps there is a vain hope of a new friendship out of this, but that is the loftiest of my wishes, and you should not feel obligated to fulfil it if you don’t want to.”

“You’re the most interesting thing that’s happened in at least a decade,” says Anna.

“But you’re vampires. Why are you helping a competitor?”

“Why not? Just because we’re bloodsucking monsters doesn’t mean we can’t be nice about it. Plenty of fish in the sea.”

“Okay. Okay. In that case… might I ‘humbly request’… a hug, please?”

~~~

“How do you feel about it?”

Catalina does not turn away from her painting; yet another Spanish vista. She has been told that the Inquisition is over, that she can return for a holiday, but there is no doubt in her mind that what is there now must be wildly different from what she remembers. The latter is what she puts to canvas, to show off what she knows, what mortal eyes can no longer see.

“You shall have to be more specific,” she says to Anne, her voice clipped.

“You know.” She refuses to give Anne the satisfaction of looking at her, but she can feel the fluttering eyelashes, the lazy grin, just from her cadence. “Us. What we have.”

“What on earth are you implying?”

“That thing we do. The one where I press all your buttons, and you beat the shit out of me. Great way to work out that tension, yeah? But then there’s Jane – Plain Insane Jane – putting stakes in our faces and telling us to end it.”

“Would you have listened to her if she hadn’t?”

“Nah.” No hesitation whatsoever. No hint of shame. “But it’s fun. Don’t you think so?”

…Frankly, Catalina does not know. She knows it is not a healthy way of relieving stress. She knows Jane is justified in her motivations to stop it, if not her methods (though both of them make it difficult for her to use a softer touch).

But, if she is truly honest with herself, she likes to feel powerful sometimes. Yes, she is powerful when compared to a regular human – but that was true when she was alive, too. Now, she is no longer in the line of succession, she is no longer a princess. She is ‘just’ a vampire, and that fact irks her more than it should.

But she doesn’t tell Anne any of that. She puts her brush down, and turns to the source of her self-reflection. She’s hanging in the air, as if she were watching Catalina from an invisible sofa.

“You’ve been out drinking, haven’t you?”

Their kind can, in fact, get drunk. It’s more of a roundabout process than it is for mortals – one must find someone that’s absolutely cup-shotten, take them somewhere quiet, and… share their blood alcohol content. Catalina knows this because Anne is a master of the process.

“Of course I have!” Anne replies, with a funny sort of smile. “That’s why you go out, why Jane goes out. To have a drink!”

Oh, she definitely has been. She’s wearing the silly spectacles again, the ones where you can’t see her eyes properly.

“I’m not having this conversation with you while you’re out of your wits,” Catalina carefully enunciates.

“I always have my wits. Do you even listen to my jokes, princess?”

“You’re drunk.”

“And? You don’t talk when I’m sober, you won’t talk when I’m toxed – what is it that you need me to be for you to be honest?”

There is a knock at the door, and Jane’s voice comes through loud and clear. “Catalina? We have a guest.”

That’s interesting. They don’t often have guests – well, not ones that aren’t ‘invited for dinner’, and Jane likes to keep that private, if it’s her. It can’t be Parr or von Kleve; Jane would have said as much.

Perhaps it is someone important, she thinks, and immediately her mood sours.

“Who do you think it is?” Anne asks.

“I don’t know. All I ask is that you don’t make a complete fool of yourself.”

“And what if I do?”

“Then I take no responsibility for your actions.”

-

“She’s very new, apparently,” Jane tells them, and she is doing only a slightly better job than Anne at holding in her excitement. “She doesn’t remember who turned her. Cathy thinks it’s Thomas, but you know how she is.”

Yes, Catalina does. Thomas may be responsible for a lot of things, but if he showed his face in this part of town, he’d probably find himself dismembered by his very angry ex-wife.

They reach the top of the staircase. Below them, on the ground level, Cathy is speaking quietly to – good Lord! That woman’s hair is pink! How is it that vibrant a shade?!

Anne gasps in delight. “A baby! You’ve found a little baby, Cathy!”

“I’m not a baby. I’m nineteen.”

“Exactly. Two-digit age. Baby.”

“I apologise for her conduct,” Catalina sighs. “Someone had a bit too much to drink, and she had too much of them. I am Catalina Trastámara de Aragón.”

“And I’m Anne. Sometimes.”

The girl blinks. Probably thrown off by that introduction. “Oh-kay. Uh, well, I’m Kat Howard. Katherine, actually, but you see how that will cause problems. I’m moving in with Cathy and Anna, and Anna thought it might be good to introduce myself.”

There is an image of vampires being solitary creatures, living in ruined castles and moping about in their every waking hour. It’s not untrue, but Catalina hated it when she had a go. Eternity? With no-one around her? What torture!

No. Ever since she found Jane sobbing in front of her own grave, since Anne had her chance encounter with a Spanish princess, she’s resolved never to be alone again. She shall, of course, extend that invitation to this new girl.

It’s practically her duty.

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Kat.”

~~~

Vampires own nightclubs.

That makes sense, right? They only operate at night, they attract a crowd, many people there aren’t expecting to remember what happened there, only that they had a good time and feel terrible in the morning, if they make it that far.

Well, Anna doesn’t own a nightclub. She owns a chain of 24-hour off-licences. But, she can hypnotise the bouncer into letting them in, so that’s alright.

The music thrums in place of Kat’s heart as she watches the mass of bodies swaying and jumping with absolutely no sense of rhythm. Coloured lights flash, the DJ plies his trade, glasses clink and sweat permeates the air.

Anna is watching only her.

“See anyone?”

Kat scans the crowds, a grim expression on her face. “No-one looks particularly appetising.”

“Well, of course they don’t. We’re not looking for the cream of the crop here, we’re looking for someone who deserves it.”

Kat leans her head on her hand. Anna told her she could come to her for anything – so, Kat had, when she started to feel hungry again, and so Anna planned this little night out.

“There are two choices,” she’d said. “Either you pick someone out yourself, or you go mad with hunger and some other poor sod ends up like your boyfriend.”

“You’re sure of that?” Kat questioned.

“Oh, yeah. I speak from experience – I’ve always regretted what happened to the Duke of Lorraine…”

Anna had refused to say anything more about that.

Kat has… mixed feelings about what happened with Dereham. Okay, she’s horrified that she murdered him, but she doesn’t feel bad that she wiped that arrogant look from his eyes for a few seconds (before he, you know, died). He didn’t care that she was sick, didn’t answer her texts when she told him her reflection had vanished, or that she was bleeding from her eyes – and as soon as he got back from his work trip, he dragged her to a nightclub to ‘show her off’ and pretended nothing was wrong…!

…Okay, she’s getting a bit heated. The man’s funeral was three days ago. No point in holding a grudge, now.

“What about that one?”

Kat follows Anna’s gaze. A man is swaggering over to the bar with a confidence that nothing about him implies he’s earned. She gets the feeling this man used to be handsome, or liked, and no-one has told him otherwise just yet.

“Dunno. Maybe.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

Kat automatically bites her lip, before remembering that’s probably a bad idea now. She doesn’t want to be alone, exactly, but at the same time…

“Is it alright if you hang out slightly further away?” She asks. “If I need your help, I’ll laugh really loudly.”

Anna smiles in acknowledgement, nods, and wanders off. Kat might be wrong, but she seems almost gleeful.

Thankfully (or not), the once-handsome man notices her staring, and saunters over. Kat’s skin crawls.

“Hey.”

Kat gives a small, brief smile in return.

“You here alone?”

She risks a quick glance over to Anna – she still has an eye on her. Kat isn’t alone. “Yeah. Just… needed to get out, you know?”

“I do.” He smirks, points to himself. “Henry. You know Tudor Real Estate?” She does, and the man grins at the recognition she must be showing. “I’m the co-owner.”

Kat doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, but this guy has only a passing resemblance to the man on the ‘for sale’ signs.

“Must be an important job,” she tries.

“Very. My brother relies on me for a lot.” Oh, okay, he’s the brother. Wait, the brother she’d read articles about? The one who got acquitted last year? “Sometimes I just need to blow off some steam, you know? Have some fun. Speaking of, can I buy you a drink or two?”

Wow. That look in his eyes. He clearly hasn’t changed as much as the judge thought he had.

“I don’t drink… alcohol.”

He scoffs. “Listen. You heard how important I am, right? Nothing will happen to you without my say-so. We can have fun if you just let me help you.”

This man is made of red flags, isn’t he? A blind woman could see the warning signs. He’s a creep with overly-inflated self-esteem, seems to have spent his whole life getting everything he’s ever wanted…

And that means he’s perfect.

“I guess you’re right,” she says, quietly. She doesn’t have to fear his kind any more. “I am here for a good time. If you’re offering…”

Henry grins. “Anything you want, babe! Name it, and it’s yours!”

“Anything?” Money and connections won’t protect you from me.

“Anything at all, princess.”

“Hmm…” Kat makes a show of looking him up and down. Yes, this is the one. “Maybe we can take this somewhere private?”

Henry is clearly thrilled at the prospect. He grabs her hand, roughly (though Kat is sure she could break his arm if the need arose), and leans in close.

“I know just the place.”

He leads her away, to a location where there are no witnesses, no-one to save him. From across the club, Anna gives her a thumbs up.

Kat returns the gesture.

-

She comes in the front door with her phone in her hand. Henry has a Wikipedia page. Not very long, pretty much goes on about his brief stint in custody and that he’s Arthur Tudor’s brother.

Or, was. They might have to change the tense, soon.

Cath is on the sofa, chatting quietly with… Kat wants to say… Jane…? Yeah, Jane sounds right. She’s friendly enough, but always seems like she’s on her second-last nerve.

“How did it go?” Cath asks.

Anna grins. She’s been like this all night, and Kat feels conflicted about all the praise she’s received.“Oh, fantastic! Kat was a natural; that idiot fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”

“Turns out I have a vendetta against people who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” Kat adds.

Parr’s smile grows sharp, but her eyes still sparkle. “Well, there won’t be any shortage of those. Come, sit with us.”

So, Kat does. The things they speak of are so normal, Kat is initially confused. Jane’s gardening is a topic of discussion, as is Cath’s ever-expanding collection of stuff she finds interesting. When Jane asks about Kat’s “little slate-thing”, they both listen with rapt attention at her explanation of modern technology.

Kat had forgotten what it’s like to have people listen. It’s a shame she had to die to experience it.

~~~

“Yes, I’ve received a notice recently about outstanding bills owed – no, no, don’t shut off the – listen to me. The account has been paid in full. Enter that into the system. Okay, great. Thanks for that – no, no, everyone makes mistakes. Alright, bye.”

Anne hangs up. Great, power bills are sorted.

Contrary to popular opinion, she actually does do her share of work around the house. Yeah, the dishes are her least favourite task. Vampires shouldn’t have to do the dishes. But, that doesn’t stop her from helping in other ways.

She’s just about to start dialling the telephone company, when there is a knock at the door. Few are brave enough to do that at this place. As she stalks over, she wonders if it might a debt collector – if it is, that means she can have a snack, too.

The heavy oaken door swings open with an agonising creak, and the eyes of the figure on the other side glow in the evening gloom.

Oh, it’s that pink-haired girl. Katie, maybe? Anne can’t actually remember her name, and at this point she’s too afraid to ask.

“Hi.” The girl waves slightly. “Can I come in?”

Do you really want to? Anne thinks, but she says, “Uh, sure.”

With a sigh of relief, Kiara steps over the threshold.

“Apparently I called you a baby last time you were here,” Anne says. “Sorry about that. That’s not fair to you, and you don’t scare the shit out of me like an actual vampire infant would. But, I’m guessing you’re not here for an apology.”

Kitty smiles awkwardly. “Uh, no. I’m here to try and fix your computer. Um, the little television-box-thing you never use?”

“Oh! That! Yeah, I never knew how to get that thing working.”

“Yeah, no promises,” Kelly says, “but Jane thought it might help you… connect.”

That really gets Anne’s attention. She’s not surprised it was Jane who told her, because of the way Kim described the computer, but that part about connecting.

Anne wants honesty, for once. If Kat (that sounds right) is offering, she will take it.

-

To Anne’s surprise (and shame), Kat is able to get la machine infernale up and running in just a few minutes. She explains the mouse, the monitor, and the programs built into the operating system. The computer is not to get wet, nor is it to be fed. Do not sacrifice anything to it in an attempt to make it work properly.

Why Kat felt the need to include that instruction is a mystery, but it was probably necessary.

“Now, I had this whole speech with my step-grandma – back when I talked with my family – and I’ll give the same to you. Don’t believe everything you read on the internet. A lot of it’s lies, or personal opinion. On that note, not everyone you talk to is who they say they are. Don’t do things like send money or give out personal details if someone asks, and don’t meet with someone without people around.”

“Okay, I’m absolutely going to do that last one – but for the rest of them? Sure!”

Kat genuinely smiles. Wow, when was the last time Anne did that, and didn’t eat the person afterwards? Must have been ages, because it feels like she’s come across an oasis after months in a desert.

“So,” she goes on, “what exactly is the internet? I know I pay the bill for it -” ‘pay’ is a strong word - “but I don’t actually know what it entails.”

“Okay, well, you know… books?”

“Yes.”

“You know the television?”

“Yeeesss.”

“You know those coffee shops where people yelled at each other about philosophy, in the eighteenth century?”

“Yep, yep, yep.” Even though she was never invited, the sexist pricks.

“The internet is all of those things together,” Kat explains, “but worse.”

Anne gasps. “I love it already.”

-

The room is dark. No lights, curtains shut. The only source of light is the faint white glow of the monitor.

The internet is, as Kat had warned, a shitshow. Anne thinks it’s just the best thing. University professors and the lowest common denominator share the same spaces, and send vile, scathing messages to one another over fictional characters. Maybe she should do some research, just so she can play along. It’d be just like her days at court, getting one person at another’s throat, playing them off each other… ah, she misses that, if nothing else. It’s just not the same, now.

Oh, but then there are the videos. Little mortal Anne would never have thought it possible. What an idea! What awful and wonderful things humans create when they’re not being killed!

Anne’s exploration is interrupted when the light from the hallway fills the room.

“Ah. So you haven’t left.”

Catalina? Come to check on her? Anne turns – yes, it is her, likely wondering why her evening hasn’t been ruined yet. Or, maybe not. Anne has a terrible habit of putting words in other people’s mouths.

“You haven’t been downstairs this evening,” Her housemate continues. “Jane was worried about you.”

Anne doubts that’s true. Not that Jane doesn’t worry, she worries about almost everything (who cares if her teeth show when she smiles?), but she would be thrilled to know Anne is being quiet.

“Just looking at things,” Anne mumbles.

“Hm. Ominous. What ‘things’?”

Well, the best way to explain would be to show, right?

Anne plays the video. Normal night sky, a deep navy. Then, violet, then orange, and the fiery sun rises over the horizon, accented by the crimson heavens.

There’s a thump from behind her. Catalina has flattened herself against the opposite wall, eyes wide, fangs bared.

“I will not die so easily, Boleyn!” she snarls. “I’ve survived assassination attempts before, and I’ll do it again!”

“I’m not trying to kill you, girl! It’s a video! Do you almost die every time you put the sun in one of your paintings? Because that would be a much bigger problem than me showing you this.”

She presses the button to make the video play once more, and makes a show of standing in front of the screen, conspicuously not combusting.

Catalina stares at her. Then, at the monitor. She approaches, slowly.

“Can you make it go again?”

Anne does. The sun is reflected in Catalina’s eyes for the first time in over five hundred years.

“…I miss it, sometimes.”

Oh God, it’s happening, Anne thinks. Out loud, she says, “Miss what?”

“The sunrise.” From the sound of her voice, calm and quiet, Anne gets the impression Catalina’s not really here. “My home. My family. It doesn’t matter how far away I am, in years or in miles. They’re gone, and the name Trastámara means nothing.”

Oh, that’s it. Of course it is.

Anne did not what it was like to be a princess in the early 1400s, partially because she wasn’t born yet. She knows from her own experiences with Whatever the Fuck the Sun King Was Playing At that the nobility was constantly having to be perfect at all times; not even a twitch of emotion could play upon your face, even as you drain all your resources to support the near-impossible standards of fashion, or it could easily be all for naught.

She’s just been thinking, maybe, something like that might be why Catalina has the sort of aversion to talking about her emotions that would normally be reserved for holy symbols.

“Catalina. You’re not a princess anymore.”

Catalina sneers, all traces of vulnerability gone. “Yes, you have taunted me about that many times before.”

“Not a taunt.” Sometimes. “A reminder you no longer have to try and be perfect. I’m not gonna tell any peers of the realm if you feel sad sometimes.”

“So you feel the need to drive me to madness in the hopes I accept your view?”

Okay, so maybe Anne’s been a little coarse. In fairness, she tried passive-aggressive behaviour and it didn’t work. There’s a reason she goes after Catalina, and it’s not just because it’s easy.

Anne points to herself. “Unstoppable force.” To Catalina. “Immovable object. You move, I stop.”

“…Right. Okay.” A pause. “I know, logically, that you are right – about that particular thing. But, it makes me feel like I’m ignoring part of myself.”

“Just have the good without the bad. If the King of Spain has anything to say about it, kill him and rule the country as their immortal god-queen.”

“I would never be so rash,” Catalina huffs. “I’ll try. Just… don’t mock me for it. If I’m keeping at least one good thing about my life, it will be threatening anyone who insults me with imprisonment.”

“Yessssss…”

Both Anne and Catalina jump at the voice from outside the room. Anne acts first – she opens the door a crack, and sees Jane’s eye on the other side.

“You’ve been at it for two hundred years,” Jane says. “Two. Hundred. Years. I don’t care if you don’t get along straight away, let me have this.”

And, fearing her ire, they do.

~~~

Anna’s on the roof again.

There are two main reasons for this. One, her room is in the attic and it’s the easiest way out of the house. Two, it’s a good place to sit, look up at the stars (at least the ones you can still see, anyway) and think about things.

Kat is on her right, arms around her knees, looking up at the moon. Anna does not think she’s paying much attention to it, however.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

Kat doesn’t answer straight away. “Just how things are better.”

“…They are?”

“I’m living… uh, residing in a house with people I actually like. This is the first time that’s happened since I was about eight, I think.”

Wow. Anna hadn’t had a terribly good time when she was alive – no rights, no fun allowed, go marry some dude you’ve never even met, and no you can’t have fun then either – but Kat’s life might beat out Cathy’s hopeless search for love, in terms of tragedy.

“I cannot truly speak for you, but I have found this…” Anna waves her hands, trying to find the right way to put it, “whole thing to be very affirming. There is no-one to hold you down. No-one to stop you from doing what you like. Well, except priests, but they can be ignored, mostly.”

“You don’t brood about it too much?”

“Why would I? It’s the only reason I’ve been able to see the things I’ve seen. To be here, now, talking to you.” All because she told the wrong (or right) person about how bored she was. Of course she would accept the offer to have fun, even if the whole process wasn’t. “Do you?”

Kat stops to think again, so that’s a ‘yes’. “I’m still getting used to it. But, I don’t mind it. I’m not scared of the things I used to be afraid of. That’s good, right?”

“Sounds good to me. But, if you falter, that’s okay, too. We have supported Cathy, who was the youngest before you, we can do the same here – so long as you support us in turn.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s got that thing about finding the one.” How does Kat manage to fit so much bitterness in only two words? “Don’t get it. She’s got people who love her already. You, and those three around the corner. She doesn’t need them.”

“That’s a very good way of putting it, actually.” Anna’s argument against serious dating has been that three of the people Parr’s courted have tried to murder her, and her ex-husband technically succeeded. It hasn’t worked, but maybe a more positive viewpoint might win out against two centuries of stubbornness.

“Anna von Kleve.”

von Kleve looks down. Ah, speak of the devil. She’s on the balcony below them.

“Cathy! Kat has had some good thoughts about love!”

“Oh? How wonderful.”

She doesn’t seem like she thinks it is, though. She almost looks angry, with the hard eyes and pursed lips and the red-brown mottled book in her hand -

Oh no.

“I think, Anna,” Cathy intones, her voice sharper than any stake, “that we should talk about personal responsibility first.”

[opera-simplified]

Opera Simplified #4: Così fan tutte

Così fan tutte, ossia La scuola degli amanti

(Thus Do All Women, or The School For Lovers)

Opera Simplified #4

The Basics:

Music: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Libretto: Lorenzo da Ponte

Premiere: January 26, 1790; Burgtheater, Vienna, Austria

Based on: No direct source material, although some say it is inspired by either elements of Ovid’s Metamorphoses (as a classics major and someone’s who’s read it...eh) or an incident that had supposedly recently taken place in Vienna.

Setting: Naples, the late 1700s.

Characters:

Fiordiligi, a woman from Ferrara who lives in Naples—soprano

Dorabella, her sister—mezzo-soprano

Despina, their maid—soprano

Ferrando, Dorabella’s boyfriend, a soldier—tenor

Guglielmo, Fiordiligi’s boyfriend, a soldier—bass

Don Alfonso, an old philosopher—bass

*Note: these voice parts are not set in stone; for instance, Despina is occasionally played by a mezzo-soprano and Guglielmo by a baritone.

Requested by: @harry-leroy.

The Opera, Very Simplified (new feature!): “Thus do all women.” Is that really true, or do you just have a raging case of sexism?

Another New Feature: In addition to the notes link provided at the end of each scene, if you click on an asterisk set, it will now also take you to the notes section for that scene.

The Opera:

Overture 

(and also here’s a version arranged for wind octet. I just thought it sounded cool.)

Act I:

Scene 1:

A café. Among the patrons are Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso, whom we meet in the middle of a conversation.

Ferrando: My Dorabella would NEVER cheat on me! She couldn’t—she’s as faithful as she is beautiful!

Guglielmo: Yeah! My Fiordiligi is like that too and she would also never cheat on me!

Don Alfonso: Well I’m older than both of you and I know more about life so I have full authority on this subject. Anyway, that was fun but let’s move on to other thi—

Ferrando and Guglielmo: NO YOU SAID OUR GIRLFRIENDS WOULD CHEAT ON US AND WE WANT PROOF

Don Alfonso: Eh, let’s forget the proof and that this conversation ever happ—

Ferrando and Guglielmo: NO WE WANT PROOF AND IF YOU WON’T GIVE IT THEN WE MUST ASK YOU TO DRAW YOUR SWORD AND ALSO WE CAN’T BE FRIENDS ANYMORE

Don Alfonso: (Geez, these people must be crazy for wanting to know.)

Ferrando and Guglielmo: HE WRONGED US HE MUST PAY

Guglielmo: Well then, Alfonso, draw your sword. Duel whichever of us you prefer.

Don Alfonso: I don’t fight duels except at the table and with words.

Ferrando: Either fight or tell us why you think our girlfriends would cheat on us.

Don Alfonso: hahaha how sweet and cute that you think otherwise hahaha

Ferrando: STOP JOKING I SWEAR TO GOD

Don Alfonso: Well, by the earth, I swear that I’m not joking. One question: what species are your lovers?

Ferrando and Guglielmo: What the hell kind of question is that? They’re women.

Don Alfonso: Do they have real flesh, bones, and skin? Do they eat like us? Really, are they goddesses or women?

Ferrando and Guglielmo: THEY’RE THE BEST WOMEN IN THE WORLD

Don Alfonso: They’re women! And you think they’ll be faithful to you? HAHAHA THAT’S HILARIOUS

You see, women’s faithfulness is like the phoenix: everyone tells stories about it and insists it exists, but where? No one knows! No one’s ever seen it!

Ferrando: THE PHOENIX IS DORABELLA

Guglielmo: IT’S FIORDILIGI

Don Alfonso: Correct answer: neither of them are, because it has never existed, it doesn’t exist, and it never will exist. Your belief is just some poetic nonsense.

Guglielmo: WELL YOU’RE JUST A FOOLISH OLD MAN

Don Alfonso: Very well, then, I’ll turn your question back on you: what proof do you have that they will remain faithful to you?

Ferrando: We’ve known them for practically forever…

Guglielmo: They’re noble in every sense…

Ferrando: They’re smart and high-minded…

Guglielmo: They’re very even-tempered and not impulsive…

Ferrando: They’re selfless…

Don Alfonso: And they cry and they sigh and they faint at the slightest provocation yadda yadda yadda. Lemme chuckle a bit, would you?

Ferrando: FOR THE LAST TIME STOP MAKING FUN OF US

Don Alfonso: WAIT!

What if, within 24 hours, I was able to give you concrete proof that they would cheat on you as quickly as any other women?

Ferrando and Guglielmo: THERE’S NO WAY

Don Alfonso: Very well. If you’re so sure, then let’s make a bet on it.

Ferrando and Guglielmo: Sure, let’s bet on it.

Don Alfonso: A hundred gold pieces to each of you.

Guglielmo: Make it a thousand.

Don Alfonso: Just a hundred.

Guglielmo: Fine.

Don Alfonso: Shake on it?

Ferrando: You have our word.

*They shake on it.*

Guglielmo: What are you gonna do with your hundred gold pieces?

Ferrando: I’M GONNA HIRE A BUNCH OF PEOPLE TO SERENADE DORABELLA BECAUSE APPARENTLY DESPITE BEING IN AN OPERA I CAN’T DO IT MYSELF

Guglielmo: Well I’M GONNA THROW A HUGE PARTY AND CELEBRATE VENUS

Don Alfonso: I hate to be that person (well, not really actually), but CAN I COME???

Ferrando and Guglielmo: Of course!

Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso: AND WE’LL ALL TOAST TO THE GOD OF LOVE

*They leave.*

Scene 2:

The garden of Fiordiligi and Dorabella’s house by the sea. Fiordiligi and Dorabella are gazing at the portraits of their lovers, which they keep in lockets.

Fiordiligi: Look, isn’t my boyfriend the cutest?

Dorabella: Sure, whatever, but look at my boyfriend’s eyes! They can shoot ARROWS OR EVEN FLAMES

Fiordiligi: He’s a warrior...a lover...he’s the perfect guy!

Dorabella: His face is both very sweet and very threatening but I don’t find that creepy at all. It’s just...so charming.

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: HOW HAPPY WE ARE AND IF WE EVER LOVE ANYONE ELSE MAY LOVE ITSELF MAKE US SUFFER BUT IT’S NOT LIKE THAT’S EVER GONNA HAPPEN

Fiordiligi: Y’know, I’m feeling a bit fiery...a bit ticklish in my veins...which is definitely not code for me being horny, but when Guglielmo comes, who knows what I’ll do to him, if you know what I mean…

Dorabella: Ha! Something new for you, I’d suppose? In any case, I’m sure we’ll both get married soon.

Fiordiligi: Here, give me your hand. Lemme try out my palm-reading skills.

*Dorabella gives Fiordiligi her hand.*

Yeah, looks like you’re right.

Dorabella: I’d like that!

Fiordiligi: Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind getting married soon.

Dorabella: Me neither, but they were already supposed to be here by now. What’s taking them so long?

*Don Alfonso enters.*

Fiordiligi: THERE THEY ARE

Dorabella: False alarm; it’s just Don Alfonso.

Fiordiligi: greeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeat oh hi Don Alfonso how are you doing today?

Don Alfonso: Ladies, my respects.

Dorabella: Uh...are you okay??? Why are you here by yourself??? Without our boyfriends??? You’re crying??? TELL US WHAT’S HAPPENING IT OBVIOUSLY HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH OUR BOYFRIENDS BECAUSE THERE’S NOTHING ELSE THAT MATTERS HERE

Fiordiligi: YEAH WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BOYFRIEND

Don Alfonso: Well, I’d like to say something, but I’m so upset I can’t get my voice out and I’m totally not just being a skilled actor like every basso buffo worth his salt has to be anyway what ever shall we do THERE’S BEEN A HUGE CATASTROPHE AND ALL YOUR LIVES ARE OVER SO I PITY THE FOOLS— I MEAN YOU YOUNG ADORABLE LOVERS

Fiordiligi: STOP BABBLING AND TELL US WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON BECAUSE THE SUSPENSE IS TOO MUCH TO BEAR

Don Alfonso: My dears, arm yourself with the only weapon a good woman can have (because obviously you women are too weak for weapons), fidelity. Your lovers have been called to war.

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO THEY’RE LEAVIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Don Alfonso: I’m pretty sure your boyfriends are too scared to see you, but they’re willing to see you if they want—

Dorabella: WHERE ARE THEY

Don Alfonso: Come on out, Ferrando and Guglielmo!

*Ferrando and Guglielmo enter dressed in traveling clothes.*

Guglielmo: I don’t know if I can do this…

Ferrando: I can’t speak…

Don Alfonso: Remember, it’s in times like these, the worst possible times, that true heroes show their strength and manliness. You’re manly men! Act like it.

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE ALREADY HEARD THE NEWS SO JUST GO AHEAD AND LITERALLY STAB US IN THE HEARTS BECAUSE THAT’S TOTALLY NOT AN OVERREACTION BUT WE REALLY REALLY JUST LOVE YOU GUYS

Ferrando and Guglielmo: THIS ISN’T OUR FAULT AT ALL IT’S JUST FATE

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT LEAVING

Dorabella: I WILL TEAR OUT MY HEART FIRST

Fiordiligi: AND I WILL DIE AT YOUR FEET

Ferrando and Guglielmo: How do you like them apples, Alfonso?

Don Alfonso: Remember, the day is nowhere near done yet.

Everyone: FATE SUCKS HOW CAN WE LOVE LIFE WHEN THERE’S SO MUCH SUCK WHY DON’T WE ALL JUST DIE

You know, that whole exchange was great! Let’s do it again!

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT LEAVING

Dorabella: I WILL TEAR OUT MY HEART FIRST

Fiordiligi: AND I WILL DIE AT YOUR FEET

Ferrando and Guglielmo: How do you like them apples, Alfonso?

Don Alfonso: Remember, the day is nowhere near done yet.

Everyone: FATE SUCKS HOW CAN WE LOVE LIFE WHEN THERE’S SO MUCH SUCK WHY DON’T WE ALL JUST DIE

Guglielmo: nonono don’t cry my love!

Ferrando: don’t despair my love everything will be okay

Don Alfonso: At least let them cry and mourn. They have every reason to.

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE DON’T EVEN KNOW IF WE’LL EVER SEEN YOU AGAIN

*Fiordiligi and Dorabella embrace their respective lovers.*

Fiordiligi: Leave me this sword, would you? If fate is even more cruel, I’ll need it to do some dying…

Dorabella: well I’M so full of grief that I DON’T EVEN NEED A SWORD BECAUSE MY GRIEF WILL KILL ME ON ITS OWN

Ferrando and Guglielmo: Hey, hey, stop talking about death it’ll be okay and you’ll have peace as long as we’re alive!

LOVE PROTECT OUR SISTERS AND GIVE THEIR EYES PEACE BECAUSE YEAH AND MAY THE CRUEL STARS OF FATE NEVER TOUCH THEM AND MAY WE RETURN HAPPILY TO THEM SOON

Don Alfonso: hahaha how charming this little show is hahaha

*A drum roll is heard nearby from offstage.*

Ferrando: OH NO THAT’S THE DRUM ROLL THAT TAKES US AWAY FROM YOU

Don Alfonso: Well, here’s the boat.

Fiordiligi: I’M GONNA FAINT

Dorabella: well I’M GONNA DIE

*A military march is heard; a boat full of people comes onstage.*

Boat Passengers: MILITARY LIFE IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND AWESOME BECAUSE YOU’RE ALWAYS ON THE MOVE AND YOU SEE DIFFERENT PLACES AND DO DIFFERENT THINGS AND YOU DREAM OF WINNING BECAUSE ALL YOU DO IS WIN THERE’S SO MUCH WINNING YOU’LL GET TIRED OF WINNING ANYWAY BEING IN THE MILITARY IS SO LEGIT AND THAT’S OUR COMMERCIAL ANY QUESTIONS

Don Alfonso: Welp, time for you boys to answer the call of destiny, or well, more like duty I guess.

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando and Guglielmo: I WUV YOU SO MUCH TIME FOR THE WATERWORKS

Ferrando and Guglielmo: EMBRACE US BEFORE WE GO

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE’RE GONNA DIE OF GRIEF

Fiordiligi: WRITE TO ME EVERY DAY

Dorabella: well WRITE TO ME TWICE A DAY

Fiordiligi: WHY DO YOU KEEP TRYING TO ONE-UP ME

Dorabella: I’M YOUR SISTER THAT’S WHAT I DO

Guglielmo: I’LL WRITE TO YOU EVERY DAY

Ferrando: YOU CAN COUNT ON ME MY LOVE

Don Alfonso: I’ll burst if I don’t laugh at the sheer absurdity of this.

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: BE FAITHFUL TO US

Ferrando and Guglielmo: (same goes for you)

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: FAREWELL FAREWELL MY HEART IS BWEAKING AND I WUV YOU SO MUCH FAREWELL FAREWELL FAREWELL

Don Alfonso: Seriously, how can you not laugh at this?

Boat Passengers: TIME TO DO OUR MILITARY COMMERCIAL AGAIN  

MILITARY LIFE IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND AWESOME BECAUSE YOU’RE ALWAYS ON THE MOVE AND YOU SEE DIFFERENT PLACES AND DO DIFFERENT THINGS AND YOU DREAM OF WINNING BECAUSE ALL YOU DO IS WIN THERE’S SO MUCH WINNING YOU’LL GET TIRED OF WINNING ANYWAY BEING IN THE MILITARY IS SO LEGIT AND THAT’S OUR COMMERCIAL ANY QUESTIONS

*During the above, Ferrando and Guglielmo get into the boat, which leaves.*

Dorabella: Where...where are they?

Don Alfonso: THEY LITERALLY JUST LEFT HOW DID YOU NOT SEE THAT

Dorabella: I think I was in a faint or something DON’T JUDGE ME

Don Alfonso: CHILL FOR FIVE SECONDS

Fiordiligi: THIS IS THE WORST DAY EVER

Don Alfonso: Take heart! Look, they’re waving to you! See?

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: Well, that makes us feel a little better…

HAVE A NICE TRIP

Fiordiligi: OMG THE BOAT IS LEAVING SO QUICKLY AND NOW I CAN’T SEE IT ANYMORE WELL I HOPE THAT HEAVEN LETS IT HAVE A GOOD VOYAGE

Dorabella: GOOD LUCK TO THEM ALL ESPECIALLY OUR BOYFRIENDS

Don Alfonso: I hope they stay safe. You know, they’re not just your boyfriends, but also my buddies.

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Don Alfonso: May the wind and waves be gentle and calm, and may everything go according to our wishes! **

*Fiordiligi and Dorabella leave.*

Don Alfonso: Yup, ‘basso buffo as good actor’ pays off yet again. I’ll meet my buddies at the place we agreed on. I have to do that quickly to set the plan in action as quickly as possible. All those mushy-gushy remarks and sad faces and tricks worked so well on them! They’ll fall easily—we all know women are emotionally unstable and will change at the drop of a hat or the change of an outfit. Oh, you foolish young men, gambling a hundred gold pieces for a woman…

How does that song go again? Oh yeah, it’s “how do you solve a problem like a womaaaaaaaaan? How can you catch a cloud and pin it doooooooooooown? How do you find a word that means ‘a womaaaaaaaaaan’? A flibbertigibbet, a will-o’-the-wisp, a clown? Many a thing you know you’d like to tell heeeeeeeeeeer, many a thing she ought to understaaaaaaaaand...but how do you make her stay, and listen to all you say? How do you keep a wave upon the saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand? Oh, how do you solve a problem like a womaaaaaaaaaaaaan? How can you hold a moonbeam in your haaaaaaaaaand?” 

Well, the answer is you can’t. A woman will never be faithful. And I’m a philosopher dude, so obviously I’m right.

*He leaves.*

Scene 3:

A room with three doors inside Fiordiligi and Dorabella’s house. Despina is preparing a tray of hot chocolate for the sisters.

Despina: Uggggggggggggggggggggggggh I HATE being a working-class maid. All I do is work work work and in the end I get nothing. It all goes to my bosses!

For example, this stupid hot chocolate the ladies insist I make them. I’ve been beating it for half an hour and smelling that glorious chocolatey smell and it makes me just want to gulp it down but I CAN’T because all of it is for the ladies and none of it is for me! Hey, have you ever thought that we servants have mouths and hungry bellies too? If you put us in a room with hot chocolate, do we not want to drink it? Screw capitalism.

Oh shoot, they’re coming!

*Fiordiligi and Dorabella run in.*

Your precious hot chocolate, ladies.

*Dorabella starts throwing stuff onto the ground.*

Uh...what are you doing? What happened?

Fiordiligi: I NEED TO FIND A SWORD IMMEDIATELY FOR REASONS UNRELATED TO MY NEWFOUND SUICIDAL WISHES WHERE IS THERE A SWORD

Dorabella: I NEED TO FIND POISON FOR SIMILARLY UNRELATED REASONS WHERE IS THERE POISON

Despina: Oh for heaven’s sake, uh…

Dorabella: YOU SHUT UP AND CLOSE ALL THE WINDOWS BECAUSE THEY’RE LETTING IN LIGHT AND AIR AND I NOW HATE LIGHT AND AIR AND MYSELF BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT GRIEF DOES TO YOU NO ONE CAN MOCK ME BECAUSE I WILL KILL THEM OR CONSOLE ME BECAUSE I’M BENT ON KILLING MYSELF SO LEAVE ME ALONE

I FEEL SO MUCH LONGING AND I DON’T WANT IT TO GO AWAY UNTIL I DIE BECAUSE THAT’S A SIGN OF MY TRUE LOVE AND I WANT TO DIE SO IF I’M STILL ALIVE I’LL MAKE THE FURIES REGRET IT WITH MY EVERY BREATH

Despina: So? What happened?

Fiordiligi: OUR LOVERS HAVE LEFT NAPLES

Despina: They’ll be back—

Dorabella: BUT WE CAN’T KNOW THAT FOR SURE

Despina: Why not? Where are they going?

Dorabella: THEY’VE BEEN CALLED TO THE BATTLEFIELD

Despina: Oh, so theeeeeeeeeeeeeey’ll be back like befoooooooooore they will fight the fight and win the wa—

Dorabella: SHUT UP

Despina: Hey, they’ll come back with medals and glory and stuff!

Dorabella: BUT THEY COULD ALSO DIE

Despina: Even better!

Fiordiligi: Excuse you?

Despina: These two guys die, there’s still lots of other fish out there in the sea that are exactly like them. You’ll find someone else to love. They’re all worth the same...because they’re all useless.

Dorabella: HEY DON’T DISS OUR BOYFRIENDS LIKE THAT

Despina: Ha! These high-minded ideas you have are just stupid tales for children.

You really think that men, that soldiers will be faithful to you? Don’t let them hear you babble like that! All men want is to get that bow-chicka-wow-wow pleasure from you and then they’ll hate you and leave you! You know how it goes: “how do you solve a problem like a maaaaaaaaan? How can you catch a cloud and pin it doooooooooooown? How do you find a word that means ‘a maaaaaaaaaan’? A flibbertigibbet, a will-o’-the-wisp, a clown? Many a thing you know you’d like to tell hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim, many a thing he ought to understaaaaaaaaand...but how do you make him stay, and listen to all you say? How do you keep a wave upon the saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand? Oh, how do you solve a problem like a maaaaaaaaaaaaan? How can you hold a moonbeam in your haaaaaaaaaand?”

The best solution to this is to simply do the same thing to them. Love the one you’re with! Love for your own pleasure! La la la la la la la la la la!

*They all leave. Shortly thereafter, Don Alfonso enters and has a look around.*

Don Alfonso: It’s so dark and dreary in here...I mean, the girls have every right to be completely and utterly depressed about this situation they’ve supposedly found themselves in. Now, while the two guys disguise themselves as I told them to, let’s think about this plan a little more...you know what I need to worry about? Despina. If she recognizes them, I could very well be toast. Hmm...maybe if there are any problems that arise, I can slip her a twenty or something, keep her quiet that way. Actually, it’d probably be safer to just let her know and slip her a bribe to preemptively keep her mouth shut. Good idea, me. I always have the best ideas.

Here’s her room. DESPINETTA!!!

Despina: MY NAME ISN’T DESPINETTA

Don Alfonso: IT’S MY PET NICKNAME FOR YOU DESPINETTA OPEN UP

Despina: WHO IS IT

*She opens the door and they recognize each other.*

Don Alfonso: Despina, I need you for something.

Despina: Well, I don’t need you for anything, so you can be on your merry way.

*Don Alfonso takes out a gold coin and shows it to her.*

Don Alfonso: Look, you know your mistresses’ boyfriends have been called to war.

Despina: Yeah, I know.

Don Alfonso: And you know that they haven’t taken it particularly well.

Despina: uggggggggggggggh tell me all about it

Don Alfonso: I know how to ease their pain. I have two handsome young men here, and perhaps you could introduce them...you know what I mean. You help me, and I’ll give you twenty gold coins. Deal?

Despina: Where are they?

Don Alfonso: Right outside. Can they come in?

Despina: Yes.

*Ferrando and Guglielmo come in, dressed in some of the worst disguises in the history of opera.* ***

Don Alfonso: My friends, this is my very pretty accomplice, Despinetta—

Despina: YOU KNOW THAT’S NOT MY NAME

Don Alfonso: Sheesh. Despina. All our success depends on her.

Ferrando and Guglielmo: You’re very pretty and we’re gonna kiss your hands and also please make the women we love love us.

Despina: These two look weird. Are they Wallachians or Turks? ****

Don Alfonso: Neither; they’re Albanians. Other than “weird”, how do they look?

Despina: I’m gonna say it: they’re ugly.

Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso: Well, she doesn’t recognize us, so we have nothing to worry about.

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: *from their rooms* HEY DESPINA

Don Alfonso: They’re probably coming. I leave this to you. I’m going to hide.

*He hides as Fiordiligi and Dorabella come out of their rooms.*

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE WITH THOSE HORRIBLE PEOPLE MAKE THEM LEAVE IMMEDIATELY OR ELSE WE’LL PUNISH ALL THREE OF YOU

*Despina, Ferrando, and Guglielmo all kneel.*

Despina, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: FORGIVE US THESE TWO GUYS JUST REALLY LOVE YOU A LOT

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: SERIOUSLY WHAT IS THIS WHO BETRAYED US LIKE THIS

Despina: Betrayal? Never heard of her.

Despina, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: CALM DOWN FOR FIVE SECONDS

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE THINGS ARE GOING TO GET VERY UGLY VERY QUICKLY BECAUSE WE ARE VERY MUCH PO’D

Despina and Don Alfonso: Fiordiligi and Dorabella are starting to look a little sus.

Ferrando and Guglielmo: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY OUR GIRLFRIENDS ARE STILL FAITHFUL TO US

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE REALLY HOPE OUR BOYFRIENDS FORGIVE US BECAUSE WE’RE FAITHFUL AND WE’RE VERY PO’D ABOUT THESE STRANGE MEN IN OUR HOUSE

*Don Alfonso emerges from hiding and pretends to have just entered the house.*

Don Alfonso: WHAT’S GOING ON Y’ALL ARE BEING SUPER-LOUD DO YOU WANT TO WAKE THE WHOLE NEIGHBORHOOD WHAT’S HAPPENING

Dorabella: THERE ARE MEN IN OUR HOUSE

Don Alfonso: I fail to see the problem. What’s the harm in that?

Fiordiligi: What harm? WHAT HARM?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! TODAY?!?!?!?!?!?!?! AFTER WHAT’S HAPPENED?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

*Don Alfonso pretends to recognize Ferrando and Guglielmo.*

Don Alfonso: What?...I can’t believe this!...You’re here in Naples!...

(Back me up here.)

Ferrando and Guglielmo: OH HEY DON ALFONSO

*The three embrace.*

Don Alfonso: What a wonderful surprise!

Despina: ...You know them?

Don Alfonso: Do I know them? They’re only my best friends in the whole world, and they’ll be yours too!

Fiordiligi: And what are they doing in OUR HOUSE?!?!?!?!?!?!

Guglielmo: We’re only guilty of love…

Dorabella: wait WHAT now

Ferrando: LOVE HAS BROUGHT US HERE TO YOU

Guglielmo: WE FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU AT FIRST SIGHT—

Ferrando: SO WE CAME ALL THE WAY HERE TO YOU TO BEG YOU FOR MERCY—

Ferrando and Guglielmo: AND TO WIN YOUR HEARTS

Fiordiligi: HOW DARE YOU

Dorabella: What should we do?

Fiordiligi: YOU TWO BASTARDS LEAVE

*Despina apparently decides that she is one of the two bastards and leaves instead.*

DON’T TALK TO US DON’T TRY TO SEDUCE US BECAUSE WE MADE PLEDGES TO OUR LOVERS AND NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS WE’LL KEEP THEM UNTIL DEATH

OUR SPIRITS ARE AS STRONG AS ROCKS ARE AGAINST WIND AND STORMS WE’RE IN LOVE AND THAT’S NOT GONNA CHANGE UNTIL WE DIE SO TAKE THE HINT BECAUSE WE’RE FAITHFUL AND DON’T TRY TO PUSH IT OR MESS WITH MY HEAD THAT IS SUPPOSED TO BE RIDICULOUSLY AND AWESOMELY BOBBING UP AND DOWN WITH ALL THE LEAPS IN THIS SCORE *****

Ferrando and Guglielmo: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO DON’T LEAVE US

(Hey, Don Alfonso, what do you think about that?)

Don Alfonso: (You two, wait.)

Ladies, please don’t make this situation even more awkward for me.

Dorabella: Like we care. What are you even expecting?

Guglielmo: LOVE US OR ELSE WE’LL DIE BECAUSE THOSE ARE THE ONLY TWO OPTIONS BECAUSE THIS IS AN OPERA

Please, don’t be shy, just look at us lovingly once, or better yet, love us! AND THEN WE’LL LOVE YOU AND MAKE YOU VERY HAPPY BECAUSE WE’RE STRONG AND HANDSOME MANLY MEN LOOK AT OUR FEET AND OUR EYES AND TOUCH OUR NOSES AND LOOK AT OUR VERY BEAUTIFUL MUSTACHES THAT WE CALL OUR PLUMES OF LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE

*Fiordiligi and Dorabella roll their eyes at this and leave; as soon as they’re gone, Ferrando and Guglielmo start laughing their heads off.*

Don Alfonso: Why are you laughing?

Ferrando and Guglielmo: THIS IS SO FUNNY

Don Alfonso: At least laugh quietly.

Ferrando and Guglielmo: YOU CAN’T MAKE US

Don Alfonso: AT LEAST LAUGH QUIETLY

Ferrando and Guglielmo: YOU CAN’T MAKE US

Don Alfonso: IF THEY HEAR YOU THEN THE JIG IS UP AND YOU’LL NEVER KNOW IF THEY’RE TRULY FAITHFUL

Ferrando and Guglielmo: BUT WE DO AND THIS IS SO FUNNY THAT OUR SIDES ARE SPLITTING

Don Alfonso: Aww, they’re so charmingly stupid, but this’ll end badly for them.

You never really answered my question: why are you laughing?

Guglielmo: WE ALREADY TOLD YOU IT’S BECAUSE THIS IS HILARIOUS AND WE HAVE EVERY REASON TO

Ferrando: How much do you want to pay to call off the bet?

Guglielmo: Make him pay half.

Ferrando: Nah, just twenty-four gold pieces.

Don Alfonso: You poor suckers, come here and let me put my finger in your mouth.

Guglielmo: That’s gross and I can’t believe you still have the courage to open your own mouth.

Don Alfonso: We’ll talk again before this evening.

Ferrando: Whenever you want, we’ll talk.

Don Alfonso: Meanwhile, until the twenty-four hours are up, obey me and do not under any circumstances spill the beans.

Guglielmo: You can count on us. We’re disciplined soldiers, remember?

Don Alfonso: Go wait for me in the garden; I’ll catch up in a bit and give you your next instructions.

Guglielmo: When are we gonna eat??? I’m huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuungryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Ferrando: If we wait, then dinner will taste even better.

In the meantime, all we need for refreshment is a sweet loving breath from our girlfriends because nothing nourishes the heart quite like that!

*Ferrando and Guglielmo leave; Despina returns.*

Don Alfonso: How do you think this’ll turn out?

Despina: I think it’ll go right according to plan. They’ll cry while I laugh with an unhealthy amount of schadenfreude because they’re stupid enough to be faithful at the cost of their own happiness. Love should be full of fun and happiness and pleasure and once it isn’t, I say out with the man!

I’ll wait for you in my room so we can plan. If you do everything I tell you, you will all win, and I’ll have the glory.

*They leave.*

Notes

Scene 4:

The garden from Scene 2, a little while later. Fiordiligi and Dorabella are sitting in the garden and brooding.

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: Our lives changed so quickly because when our boyfriends were with us everything was great BUT NOW THEY’RE GONE AND OUR LIVES ARE THE ACTUAL WORST AND OUR LIVES ARE SEAS FILLED WITH TORMENT

Ferrando and Guglielmo: *offstage* LET’S DIE BECAUSE IT SEEMS LIKE THE GIRLS WE LOVE DON’T LOVE US BACK AND INSTEAD THEY JUST WANT US TO DIE

Don Alfonso: *also offstage* But there’s still hope—OH GOD DON’T DO IT SERIOUSLY DON’T DO IT

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WHAT’S GOING ON

Ferrando and Guglielmo: LET US GO

Don Alfonso: NO WAIT

Ferrando and Guglielmo: LET US GO

Don Alfonso: SERIOUSLY NO WAIT

*Ferrando and Guglielmo, pursued by Don Alfonso, run onstage. The two of them are each carrying a vial filled with liquid.*

Ferrando and Guglielmo: ARSENIC WILL DELIVER US FROM THIS CRUEL SUFFERING

*They each down their vial and throw them away, then turn and see Fiordiligi and Dorabella.*

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: Wait, did they just take poison?

Don Alfonso: Yup! And in a few moments they’ll DIE

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: OUR HEARTS ARE FROZEN NOW

Ferrando and Guglielmo: COME HERE AND SEE WHAT YOU AND OUR LOVE FOR YOU HAVE CAUSED AND ALSO HAVE MERCY

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: OUR HEARTS ARE FROZEN NOW

Everyone: THE SUN IS DARK AND I’M LOSING COURAGE AND EVEN THOUGH I’M SINGING RIGHT NOW I’M GONNA SAY THAT I’M TOO TERRIFIED TO UTTER ANYTHING

*Ferrando and Guglielmo fall onto the ground.*

Don Alfonso: Since they’re literally dying, at least show them some pity!

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: SOMEONE COME HELP ANYBODY COME HERE RIGHT NOW DESPINAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Despina: *offstage* WHAT IS IT

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: DESPINAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Despina: ugggggggggggggggh

*She comes in.*

What? Welp, it looks like they’re dead or about to die. That’s a pity.

Don Alfonso: IT’S TRUE THEY POISONED THEMSELVES FOR LOVE

Despina: Well, help them!

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Don Alfonso: WHAT SHOULD WE DO

Despina: They’re still alive. Ladies, hold them up for a bit. Alfonso, you come with me to find a doctor and an antidote.

*They leave.*

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: THIS IS THE WORST THING EVER

Ferrando and Guglielmo: (This is the funniest thing ever!)

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WE’RE DYING HERE

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: They’re sighing!

Fiordiligi: WHAT SHOULD WE DO

Dorabella: I DON’T KNOW WHAT DO YOU THINK WE SHOULD DO

Fiordiligi: Well, we can’t abandon them!

Dorabella: They look very interesting…

Fiordiligi: We can move closer, y’know.

Dorabella: *holding Guglielmo* His head’s cold!

Fiordiligi: *holding Ferrando* THIS ONE’S HEAD IS COLDER

Dorabella: STOP TRYING TO ONE-UP ME

Fiordiligi: YOU’VE BEEN DOING IT TO ME THIS WHOLE ACT

Dorabella: What about his pulse?

Fiordiligi: I CAN’T FEEL IT

Dorabella: Even though it’s very slow, my guy here still has a pulse.

Fiordiligi: SEE THERE YOU DID IT AGAIN

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: IF HELP DOESN’T SHOW UP SOON THEN THEY’RE DONE FOR

Ferrando and Guglielmo: (Their resistance is down a bit; maybe they will take the bait?)

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE’LL WEEP FOR THEIR DEATHS

*Despina, disguised as a doctor, enters with Don Alfonso.*

Don Alfonso: Here, I got a doctor.

Ferrando and Guglielmo: (It’s Despina disguised; this is horrible!)

Despina: Salvete, amabiles bones puelles. **

Ferrando and Guglielmo: He speaks a language we don’t know! He must be really smart!

Despina: What do you speak? I can speak Greek and Arabic and Turkish and Vandalic and Swabian and Tatar and— ***

Don Alfonso: Do you speak Italian?

Despina: Sono in quest’opera; tu che ne pensi, idiota? ****

Don Alfonso: Great. Save the language talk for later. These two guys took poison. What can you do to save them?

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: YEAH WHAT CAN YOU DO

*Despina feels Ferrando and Guglielmo’s foreheads and hands.*

Despina: What poison is it, why’d they take it, was it hot or cold, was it small or large, and was it in one dose or several?

Don Alfonso: To answer in order: arsenic, love, I guess whatever the temperature is out here so probably hot because we’re in Naples, medium size, and in one big gulp. I told them not to do it!

Despina: Don’t worry; I can help them.

*She takes out a magnet.*

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Don Alfonso: ooh he has a fancy thing what is that thing

Despina: This is Mesmer’s famous magnet from Germany that’s been all the rage in France. *****

*She touches each of their heads with the magnet and then draws it along their bodies.*

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Don Alfonso: They’re shaking! THEY’RE GONNA HIT THEIR HEADS ON THE GROUND THAT’S REALLY DANGEROUS ACTUALLY

Despina: Hold them up.

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: *holding the men up* Ready!

Despina: Hold on tight and have courage. They’re fine now!

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Don Alfonso: THEY’RE RECOVERING THIS DOCTOR IS WORTH A FORTUNE

*Ferrando and Guglielmo, still dazed, look around and embrace Fiordiligi and Dorabella, kissing their hands.*

Ferrando and Guglielmo: Where are we?...Are we on Mount Olympus?...No, but you two are here and we love you…

Despina and Don Alfonso: Don’t worry; those are just after-effects of the poison.

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: That may be true but this is making us uncomfortable and insulting our honor!

Ferrando and Guglielmo: (This is the most hilarious thing ever!)

HAVE MERCY ON US

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE CAN’T RESIST

Ferrando and Guglielmo: AT LEAST LOOK AT US

Despina and Don Alfonso: Don’t worry; these after-effects will go away soon!

Ferrando and Guglielmo: (This is the most hilarious thing ever!)

HAVE MERCY ON US

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE CAN’T RESIST

Ferrando and Guglielmo: AT LEAST LOOK AT US

Despina and Don Alfonso: Don’t worry; these after-effects will go away soon!

Ferrando and Guglielmo: GIVE US JUST ONE KISS OR ELSE WE’LL ACTUALLY DIE FOR REALSIES THIS TIME

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: excuse me you want WHAT NOW

Despina and Don Alfonso: Just be nice and do it! You’ll be mean if you don’t!

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: THIS IS TOO MUCH TO ASK OF US BECAUSE WE ARE FAITHFUL AND LOYAL SO WE ARE VERY OUTRAGED

Ferrando, Guglielmo, Despina, and Don Alfonso: (THIS IS THE MOST HILARIOUS THING EVER AND THEIR ANGER IS THE FUNNIEST PART OF THIS WHOLE THING)

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE LOVESTRUCK OR SUICIDAL OR POISONED OR WHATEVER JUST GO TO HELL AND YOU’LL BE SORRY IF WE GET EVEN MORE UPSET WITH YOU

Ferrando and Guglielmo: (Is their anger real or fake? I don’t want to know and I kinda don’t want to know. I don’t want that almost as much as I don’t want them to actually fall for it.)

Despina and Don Alfonso: (OH THEY’RE DEFINITELY GONNA FALL FOR IT AND FALL IN LOVE)

Notes

Act II:

Scene 1:

A little while after the end of Act I, in a room in Fiordiligi and Dorabella’s house. The sisters are talking with Despina.

Despina: ...You two are weird.

Fiordiligi: BUT WHATEVER SHALL WE DOOOOOOO

Despina: Whatever you want! You are human, right?

Look, even fifteen-year-old girls need to know what’s what, what’s good and bad. She needs to know how to flirt, charm them, fake-cry and sigh and whatever. She needs to pay attention to a hundred men at once but not in an “I’m afraid they’re stalking me so I need to be on guard” way and she needs to talk to every man with her eyes and lead them on, and she needs to know how to hide and how to lie and how to make people obey her like a QUEEN!

(I think they like this idea.)

LONG LIVE DESPINAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

*She leaves.*

Fiordiligi: Well, sis, what do you think?

Dorabella: She’s certainly a devilish one.

Fiordiligi: She’s INSANE! Should we take her advice? What about being faithful?

Dorabella: Our hearts will remain faithful. What’s wrong with enjoying ourselves a little instead of moping around? So: which of those little Narcissuses do you want? **

Fiordiligi: Well, which one do you want?

Dorabella: I’ve made up my mind. I’ll take the one with the brown hair; I think he’s the clever one.

Fiordiligi: I want to laugh and joke and have fun with the blond one.

Dorabella: I’ll joke around with my guy too!

Fiordiligi: I’ll imitate my guy’s sighs with my own!

Dorabella: He’ll say, “I’M DYING, MY LOVE”

Fiordiligi: He’ll call me his lovely treasure!

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: And I’ll be so amused and delighted!

Wait, hold on, let’s check to make sure we’re on the same page.

Dorabella: I’ll take the one with the brown hair; I think he’s the clever one.

Fiordiligi: I want to laugh and joke and have fun with the blond one.

*Don Alfonso enters.*

Don Alfonso: HEY COME TO THE GARDEN RIGHT NOW THERE’S SO MUCH FUN AND MUSIC AND MAGIC THERE IT’S LIKE AN AMUSEMENT PARK OR CONEY ISLAND OR SOMETHING ***

Dorabella: Ugh, what are you going on about?

Don Alfonso: You’ll see. Come with me!

*They leave.*

Scene 2:

Back at the garden. Ferrando and Guglielmo are in a boat with musicians; Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Despina, and Don Alfonso are in the garden.

Ferrando and Guglielmo: HEY BREEZES HELP US CARRY OUR SIGHS AND WOES TO OUR BELOVEDS BECAUSE THEY CAN TOTALLY DO THAT

Chorus: YEAH WHAT THEY SAID WE’RE JUST HERE FOR THE BACKUP FUN AND HOPEFULLY SOME SWEET SWEET CASH

*Ferrando and Guglielmo get flowers and come into the garden; Despina and Don Alfonso lead them to Fiordiligi and Dorabella, who are dumbstruck.*

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: What...what is this?

Despina: What? Cat got your tongue?

*The boat moves off.*

Ferrando: I’m shaking all over!

Guglielmo: I can’t move!

Don Alfonso: Be good girls; lead them on!

Fiordiligi: You two, speak!

Dorabella: Whatever you want.

Ferrando: Madame...

Guglielmo: Mesdames, really…

Ferrando: You talk.

Guglielmo: No, you talk.

*Don Alfonso takes Dorabella by the hand, and Despina does the same with Fiordiligi.*

Don Alfonso: ugh FINE if both of you insist on acting like nervous teenage girls then I’ll talk for you.

These trembling slaves want to ask your forgiveness for offending you but they only did it for a moment and now they feel bad and are silent…

Ferrando and Guglielmo: YEAH THEY’RE SILENT

Don Alfonso: Well, not anymore, but now they’ll leave you in peace.

Ferrando and Guglielmo: YEAH IN PEACE

Don Alfonso: YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE MY BACKUP SINGERS anyway they can’t have what they want but they’ll want what they can have

Ferrando and Guglielmo: YEAH THEY CAN’T HAVE WHAT THEY WANT BUT THEY’LL WANT WHAT THEY CAN HAVE

Don Alfonso: You’re just looking at us and laughing. At least answer!

Despina: Since we apparently have to do all the talking around here even though we’re like the third set of leads or whatever, I’ll answer for the girls.

Let’s leave the past in the past and break the bonds that chain us; give us your arms and let’s just enjoy life!

Despina and Don Alfonso: (Okay, let’s leave and see how this plays out; if the girls don’t fall for it now, they deserve all the respect in the world.)

*They leave. Guglielmo and Dorabella take each other’s arms and start walking; Fiordiligi and Ferrando start walking together, but neither takes the other’s arm.*

Fiordiligi: OH WHAT A BEAUTIFUL MOOOOOOOORNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN’ OH WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAAAAAAAAAAAAY

Ferrando: It’s a little warm, though, don’t you think?

Dorabella: Look at the trees!

Guglielmo: They’re very pretty indeed; they have more leaves than fruit!

Dorabella: ...well, duh.

Fiordiligi: The paths are pretty. You wanna go on a walk?

Ferrando: Anything for you, my love!

Fiordiligi: You’re too kind!

Ferrando: Guglielmo, here it comes!

Fiordiligi: What’d you say to him?

Ferrando: Uh…just told him to give her a good time.

*They stroll off together.*

Dorabella: Let’s stroll too!

Guglielmo: Sure. Wait, no!

Dorabella: What’s the matter?

Guglielmo: I feel so sick, like I’m gonna die!

Dorabella: (I’m not gonna fall for that.) That must just be the after-effects of the poison.

Guglielmo: (Is she joking or does she mean it?) Here, take this gift.

Dorabella: A little cut-out heart?

Guglielmo: Do you accept it?

Dorabella: Yes.

Guglielmo: (Oh, poor Ferrando!) YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

I’ve given you my heart; now I want you to give me yours.

Dorabella: I’ll take yours but I won’t give you mine; I can’t because I don’t have it anymore!

Guglielmo: So what’s beating in your chest?

Dorabella: I could ask the very same about you.

Guglielmo: So what’s beating in your chest?

Dorabella: I could ask the very same about you.

Dorabella and Guglielmo: It’s my heart that went to you!

Guglielmo: *trying to put the heart in Dorabella’s locket to replace the portrait of Ferrando* Lemme put it here.

Dorabella: No, not there!

Guglielmo: I understand, you sly dog, and I’m okay with that wink wink.

*He gently turns her face away so she can’t see and swaps in the heart, removing the portrait.*

Dorabella: What are you doing?

Guglielmo: Don’t look now.

Dorabella: I have a bad feeling, like a volcano is about to explode…

Guglielmo: (Oh poor Ferrando, I can’t believe this is happening!) Now look.

Dorabella: At what?

Guglielmo: Just look! Could things be going any better?

Dorabella and Guglielmo: WE’VE GIVEN OUR HEARTS TO EACH OTHER THIS IS A HAPPY DAY AND WE FEEL SO DELIGHTFUL

*They go off together, arm in arm. Ferrando chases Fiordiligi onstage.*

Ferrando: WHY ARE YOU RUNNING AWAY FROM ME

Fiordiligi: I SAW AN ASP AND A HYDRA AND A BASILISK ****

Ferrando: I SEE YOU THINK ALL THOSE AWFUL CREATURES ARE ME DON’T YOU

Fiordiligi: YOU’RE RIGHT BECAUSE YOU JUST WANT TO MAKE IT SO I CAN’T HAVE ANY PEACE

Ferrando: I JUST WANNA MAKE YOU HAPPY

Fiordiligi: WELL YOU’RE VERY OBVIOUSLY NOT DOING THAT SO JUST STOP IT AND LEAVE ME ALONE

Ferrando: JUST LOOK AT ME WITH LOVE FOR ONE SECOND

Fiordiligi: LEAVE NOW

Ferrando: I’M NOT GONNA AS LONG AS YOU TREAT ME LIKE THIS EVEN THOUGH YOU’RE SIGHING

YOU CAN’T RESIST ME AT THE VERY LEAST YOU FEEL SYMPATHY FOR ME AND IT GIVES ME HOPE BECAUSE YOU’RE YIELDING BUT YOU SHUN ME SO GUESS I’LL DIE

*He leaves.*

Fiordiligi: HE’S LEAVING...wait!...no, let him go. He’s caused me too much trouble. THIS IS WHAT I GET FOR ENTERTAINING A NEW LOVER AND I DESERVE IT ONE HUNDRED PERCENT AND I’M RIGHT TO CONDEMN MYSELF AND I BURN WITH RAGE AND SUFFERING AND REMORSE AND REPENTANCE AND BETRAYAL AND A BUNCH OF OTHER STUFF BUT IT DEFINITELY IS NOT LOVE

My love, forgive me for straying! I still love you and I will always hide these strange new feelings! I will end this with my courage and fidelity and erase the memory of this stranger! Forgive me! I failed you and you deserve better! Forgive me!

*She leaves. Ferrando and Guglielmo enter.*

Ferrando: WE WON

Guglielmo: A double or a triple?

Ferrando: A QUINTUPLE BECAUSE FIORDILIGI DIDN’T FALL FOR IT

Guglielmo: Really?

Ferrando: OH YEAH SHE SCORNED ME AND FLED WHICH SHOWS HOW FAITHFUL AND AWESOME SHE IS

Guglielmo: THAT’S AWESOME GOOD FOR ALL OF US ESPECIALLY MY LOVELY LITTLE PENELOPE LEMME HUG YOU MY DEAR MERCURY *****

Ferrando: And what about Dorabella? Wait, actually don’t answer that. I know she would never betray me.

Guglielmo: Right! As a matter of fact, she gave me this!

*He shows Ferrando the portrait.*

Ferrando: GOD FUCKING DAMMIT THE LITTLE CHEATING BASTARD

*He turns to go.*

Guglielmo: WAIT WHERE ARE YOU GOING

Ferrando: IMMA TEAR HER HEART OUT AND GET REVENGE

Guglielmo: STOP

Ferrando: LET ME GO

Guglielmo: DO YOU REALLY WANT TO RUIN YOURSELF BECAUSE OF A WOMAN WHO ISN’T EVEN WORTH TWO CENTS

(I don’t want him being a Standard Foolish Tenor even though he just got played like one!)

Ferrando: AFTER EVERYTHING WE’VE BEEN THROUGH TOGETHER HOW COULD SHE CHEAT ON ME SO QUICKLY

Guglielmo: I don’t know, buddy. I really don’t know.

Ferrando: WHAT SHOULD I DO NOW HELP ME OUT HERE

Guglielmo: I’m afraid there’s no instruction manual for this.

Ferrando: AFTER JUST A FEW HOURS IT WASN’T EVEN A DAY

Guglielmo: I’m as shocked as you!

I can’t help but watch you women cheat and start to sympathize with their Jealous Boyfriends™. I love women, you know that, everyone knows that, I show that every day, but all this sleeping around you women do really messes with my vibe ngl. I’ve fought a thousand duels to defend you and defended you with my words only for you all to sleep around and ruin my vibe! You have so many natural treasures but you ruin them with all your sleeping around and you totally justify all these Jealous Boyfriends™.

*He leaves.*

Ferrando: I’M SO CONFUSED AND CONFLICTED THIS IS SO WEIRD THAT LITERALLY NO ONE KNOWS WHAT TO DO NOW ALFONSO’S GONNA MOCK ME FOR MY STUPIDITY BUT I’LL AVENGE MYSELF wait but can I forget her?

I’VE BEEN BETRAYED BUT I STILL ADORE HER AND LOVE SPEAKS ON HER BEHALF FOR SOME WEIRD REASON

*Don Alfonso enters and listens.*

I’VE BEEN BETRAYED BUT I STILL ADORE HER AND LOVE SPEAKS ON HER BEHALF FOR SOME WEIRD REASON

Don Alfonso: Bravo!!!

Ferrando: GO AWAY THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT

Don Alfonso: Calm down; I can take care of this. Fiordiligi is still faithful to Guglielmo but Dorabella has betrayed you.

Ferrando: I KNOW THAT AND I AM ASHAMED

*Guglielmo comes in.*

Guglielmo: But do you really think someone would betray someone like me? In all honesty, I think I’m worth a little more than you.

Don Alfonso: I have to agree.

Guglielmo: Give me fifty gold coins.

Don Alfonso: Very well, but first, we still have more in store.

Guglielmo: What?

Don Alfonso: The twenty-four hours are still not up. You swore to do what I told you to for all that time. There still may be more twists. Remember this old saying I came up with: don’t count your chickens before they hatch.

*They leave.*

Notes

Scene 3:

A room with a table in the sisters’ house; Dorabella and Despina are talking.

Despina: Now I see behind that facade of yours: you’re as worldly as they come!

Dorabella: I tried to resist, but he’s just so eloquent and well-mannered and no one could resist that even if they were made of stone—

*Fiordiligi storms in.*

Fiordiligi: THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT

Despina: What happened?

Dorabella: Do you have some strange illness?

Fiordiligi: I HAVE A CASE OF THE DEVIL AND MAY HE TAKE ALL THE PRINCIPALS IN THIS OPERA AND EVERYONE IN THE WORLD

Dorabella: Have you lost your MIND?!?!?!?!

Fiordiligi: IT’S WORSE THAN THAT I’M IN LOVE AND NOT ONLY WITH GUGLIELMO

Despina: That’s great news! Maybe you could be a little smarter than every Jealous Opera Character and do some polyamory!

Dorabella: So you like the blond one?

Fiordiligi: UNFORTUNATELY I GUESS SO

Despina: Good for you!

Dorabella: You have the blond one, I have the dark-haired one, and we’re both brides!

Fiordiligi: I can get over this.

Despina: No, you can’t.

Fiordiligi: Watch me.

Dorabella: Trust me; it’s better to just give in.

Love is a sneaky little bastard, a little thief or a serpent. It messes with us and makes us feel happy sometimes and horrible other times. If you give in, it’ll be nice, but if you try to fight it very bad things will happen. If you feel love, do what it asks of you. That’s what I’m gonna do and I suggest you do that too.

*Dorabella and Despina leave.*

Fiordiligi: EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE IS TRYING TO GET ME TO CHEAT BUT I WON’T I DON’T WANT TO SEE THAT GUY

*Guglielmo is listening outside the door with Ferrando and Don Alfonso.*

Guglielmo: You hear that? My Artemis is still good! **

Fiordiligi: But...wait! I have an idea! We still have some of our lovers’ uniforms here because...well, you know, wink wink...so we must be bold! DESPINA!

*Despina enters.*

Despina: WHAT IS IT

Fiordiligi: Take this key and don’t say anything to anyone. Go fetch two uniforms with hats and swords from the closet.

*Despina leaves with the key.*

I can fit in Ferrando’s clothes and Dorabella can fit in Guglielmo’s, and we can join our lovers and fight with them and even DIE WITH THEM!!!

*She takes off her hat.*

Go to the devil. I hate you, you stupid hat.

Guglielmo: See? She’s really in love with me!

*Despina brings back the outfits, puts them on the tables, and leaves.*

Fiordiligi: Yeah, hat, I’m not gonna put you back on until I’m with my lover again. I’ll put this soldier hat on and it’ll make me almost unrecognizable because that’s how hats work!

*She puts on one of the soldier hats.*

I can hardly recognize myself! In just a few moments I’ll be with my love and he’ll be so happy to see me again!

*Ferrando enters.*

Ferrando: AND I’LL DIE OF GRIEF WHEN THAT HAPPENS

Fiordiligi: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE I’VE BEEN BETRAYED GET OUT

*Ferrando takes a sword from the table.*

Ferrando: YOU WILL TAKE THIS SWORD AND STAB ME IN THE HEART WITH IT AND IF YOU CAN’T THEN I’LL HELP YOU DO IT

Fiordiligi: I’M TORMENTED ENOUGH WITHOUT YOU SO SHUT UP

Ferrando: She’s starting to give in…

Fiordiligi: I’m starting to give in…

Get up!

Ferrando: YOU THINK I’LL DO THAT AND YOU’RE WRONG

Fiordiligi: FOR MERCY’S SAKE WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME

Ferrando: For you to either love me or murder me.

Fiordiligi: I CAN’T HOLD OUT ANYMORE

Ferrando: C’MON GIVE IN MY LOVE

Fiordiligi: OH GOD WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO

Ferrando: Look at me, have mercy! If you want, I can be your husband, your lover, and so much more. Give in.

Fiordiligi: Very well; you may be cruel, but you’ve won. Do with me what you will.

*Don Alfonso has to physically restrain Guglielmo from bursting in.*

Fiordiligi and Ferrando: LET’S EMBRACE AND DROWN OUR SORROWS IN LOVE AND PLEASURE THAT’S AN AMAZING IDEA

*They leave together. Guglielmo and Don Alfonso enter.*

Guglielmo: WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED

Don Alfonso: FOR PETE’S SAKE SHUT UP

Guglielmo: I’LL TEAR OUT MY BEARD AND BANG MY CUCKOLD HORNS ON SOMETHING I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT MY FAITHFUL FIORDILIGI WOULD BE SUCH A SLUT AND A MURDERER AND A THIEF AND EVERY OTHER NOT-NICE NAME IN THE BOOK ***

Don Alfonso: You know what? You just need a moment to vent.

*Ferrando enters.*

Ferrando: Well?

Guglielmo: WHERE IS SHE

Ferrando: Who? Your Fiordiligi?

Guglielmo: THE LITTLE FIOR-DE-DEVIL MAY HE STRANGLE BOTH OF US

Ferrando: See? Now I’m the one who’s worth a little more.

Guglielmo: STOP IT

Now how do we punish them?

Don Alfonso: Marry them as they are. You thought Nature could make two faithful women just for you, but that’s not how this works. Now listen to this and learn: you’ll be very happy if you do.

Everyone accuses women of being unfaithful and I can excuse them for it—some say it’s vice, others say it’s just habit, and I say it’s necessary for women to live that they sleep around. If a lover is disappointed by this, that’s his own fault. Young, old, pretty, ugly, say it with me: thus do all women.

Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso: Thus do all women.

*Despina enters.*

Despina: Victory! They’ve agreed to marry you. Are you happy?

Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso: Very much so.

Despina: When Despina joins in on a plan, it always works.

*They all leave.*

Scene 4:

Evening. A large, well-decorated room in the sisters’ house with a table set for four. Despina and other servants are running around preparing everything for the double wedding.

Despina: HURRY UP EVERYONE MAKE SURE IT LOOKS GOOD THE MARRIAGES HAVE ALREADY BEEN ARRANGED AND WE DON’T HAVE MUCH TIME AND MUSICIANS TO YOUR PLACES

Servants: YEAH LET’S DO WHAT SHE SAID

*Don Alfonso comes in.*

Don Alfonso: BRAVI! This looks WONDERFUL! The men will pay you well. The two happy couples are coming now. Sing happy songs for them!

Despina and Don Alfonso: (This is the best comedy OF ALL TIME!!!)

*They leave through different doors. Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, and Guglielmo enter.*

Chorus: BLESS THE HAPPY COUPLES MAY THEY BE HAPPY FOREVER AND MAY THEY MATE LIKE BIRDS AND HAVE BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: THERE’S SUCH A PROMISE OF LOVE AND JOY IN THE AIR BECAUSE OUR BELOVED DESPINETTA GOT ALL THIS TOGETHER SING THAT HAPPY SONG FOR US AGAIN EVERYONE

Chorus: BLESS THE HAPPY COUPLES MAY THEY BE HAPPY FOREVER AND MAY THEY MATE LIKE BIRDS AND HAVE BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN

*Except for four servants, the chorus leaves.*

Ferrando and Guglielmo: EVERYTHING IS GREAT AND IT’S ALL RESPONDING TO OUR LOVE

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE’RE GETTING HAPPIER BY THE SECOND

Ferrando and Guglielmo: You’re so beautiful!

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: You’re so handsome!

Ferrando and Guglielmo: You have such pretty eyes!

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: You have such a handsome mouth!

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: LET’S TOAST AND DRINK AND TOAST TO THIS NEW LIFE

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Ferrando: AND LET’S DROWN ALL OUR CARES AND FORGET THE PAST IN THESE GLASSES

Guglielmo: (These horrible people need to drink poison.)

*Don Alfonso enters.*

Don Alfonso: THE NOTARY IS OUTSIDE WITH THE MARRIAGE CONTRACT

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: LET HIM IN

Don Alfonso: Here he is!

*Despina enters, disguised as a notary.*

Despina: Hello, this is Beccavivi, the very dignified notary. He will read out the contract with all the rules first while coughing and then while sitting down.

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY FOR MARRIAGE CONTRACTS AND REFERRING TO YOURSELF IN THE THIRD PERSON

Despina: According to this contract, Fiordiligi will marry Sempronio and Dorabella will marry Tizio. The women are sisters from Ferrara; the men are Albanian noblemen, and as dowry and counter-dowry…

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: YEAH YEAH WE KNOW LET’S GET ON WITH IT WE TRUST YOU HAND IT OVER

Despina and Don Alfonso: Bravo! Really!

*Don Alfonso has the contract in his hand when a drum can be heard offstage.*

Boat Passengers: REMEMBER US WE’RE GONNA DO OUR COMMERCIAL AGAIN HERE GOES

MILITARY LIFE IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND AWESOME BECAUSE YOU’RE ALWAYS ON THE MOVE AND YOU SEE DIFFERENT PLACES AND DO DIFFERENT THINGS

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Despina, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: wait WHAT’S THAT

Don Alfonso: I’ll go look.

*He goes to the window.*

OH GOD IT’S HORRIBLE I’M TREMBLING AND FREEZING IT’S YOUR BOYFRIENDS

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: our WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Don Alfonso: THEY’RE BACK AND THEY’RE ALREADY LANDING ONSHORE

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, Ferrando, and Guglielmo: WHAT IS GOING ON WHAT SHOULD WE DO

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: Leave as quickly as you can!

Despina and Don Alfonso: But what if they see them?

Ferrando and Guglielmo: But what if they see us?

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: Leave as quickly as you can!

Despina and Don Alfonso: But what if they see them?

Ferrando and Guglielmo: But what if they see us?

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE HIDE IN THERE

*Don Alfonso takes Despina into one room. Fiordiligi and Dorabella take Ferrando and Guglielmo into another room. Ferrando and Guglielmo slip out and leave.*

GOD HELP US

Don Alfonso: It’ll be okay.

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: GOD HELP US

Don Alfonso: CALM DOWN

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WHO WILL SAVE US FROM THIS

Don Alfonso: TRUST ME EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: IF THEY FIND OUT ABOUT THIS WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO US

*Ferrando and Guglielmo, no longer disguised, reenter.*

Ferrando and Guglielmo: WE’RE SAFE AND WE RETURN TO OUR FAITHFUL LOVERS IN ORDER TO REWARD THEIR FAITHFULNESS FAITHFULNESS FAITHFULNESS

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: OMG HOW THIS IS AMAZING BUT HOW ARE YOU HERE IT HASN’T EVEN BEEN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS SINCE YOU LEFT

Ferrando and Guglielmo: The King changed his mind and made an order so we’re back with you, our loves!

Guglielmo: Why aren’t you saying anything?

Ferrando: Why are you sad?

Don Alfonso: They’re so confused that they can’t speak!

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: I CAN’T TALK AND IT’LL BE A MIRACLE IF I DON’T DIE RIGHT NOW

Guglielmo: Let us put our trunk in this room.

*The servants bring in a trunk. Guglielmo helps them bring it into the room where Despina is hiding.*

WHY IS THERE A NOTARY HIDING IN HERE WHAT IS HE DOING HERE

Despina: IT’S JUST DESPINA IN DISGUISE I WAS JUST AT A COSTUME PARTY

Ferrando and Guglielmo: (Who else is as sly as her?)

Despina: (Who else is as sly as me?)

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: DESPINA?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! WHAT IS GOING ON HERE

*Don Alfonso drops the contract, which the women have signed.*

Don Alfonso: (Guys, I dropped the papers. Pick them up. Make a show of it.)

*Ferrando picks up the contract.*

Ferrando: What’s this?

Guglielmo: IT’S A MARRIAGE CONTRACT

Ferrando and Guglielmo: YOU SIGNED IT YOU’VE BETRAYED US YOU CAN’T HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDE YOUR LYIN’ EYEEEEEEEEEEEEEES

OH LET’S REVEAL THE WHOLE THING AND THEN THERE WILL BE BLOOD

*They start to go into the room with their disguises but the women stop them.*

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: WE’RE WORTHY OF DEATH SO PLEASE JUST KILL US BECAUSE WE DON’T DESERVE MERCY

Ferrando and Guglielmo: WHAT EVEN HAPPENED

Fiordiligi: ASK DON ALFONSO AND DESPINA

Don Alfonso: It’s all too true. The proof is in that room.

*He points to the room with the disguises; Ferrando and Guglielmo go in.*

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: I’M SO AFRAID WHY’D HE RAT US OUT LIKE THAT

*Ferrando and Guglielmo come out, wearing most of the pieces of their disguises.*

Ferrando: Lovely Fiordiligi, here is your Knight of Albania!

Guglielmo: My Dorabella, here is your portrait back!

Ferrando and Guglielmo: And a huge thank you to our magnetic doctor!

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Despina: wait WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso: THEY ARE SHOOK

Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Despina: I CAN’T BEAR THIS

Ferrando, Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso: THEY’RE GOING INSANE

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: *pointing to Don Alfonso* HE DECEIVED US BECAUSE HE’S AN ASSHOLE

Don Alfonso: Okay, yeah, I deceived you, but now your lovers are wiser, so that’s fine. All of you, be married! Let’s not talk about what just happened; just laugh like I have been since the beginning of this fine experiment.

Fiordiligi and Dorabella: If this is true, I’ll adore you forever, my love!

Ferrando and Guglielmo: I believe you; let’s not test that out.

Despina: THIS IS SO CONFUSING I’M SO ASHAMED BUT AT LEAST WE CAN CONTINUE LIVING AND HOPEFULLY WE CAN ALL BE HAPPY

Everyone: The moral of the story is that people should all take everything for the best and live by reason (even though no one ever does that in an opera)! The things that can make others weep make them laugh and in the middle of the craziness of this crazy little thing called life, they will find peace!

(And no, this totally isn’t tacked on!) ****

Notes

THE END

Up Next: Roméo et Juliette, by Charles François Gounod

[snickerdoodlles]

🐰

(Alternatively 🍞 🍞 is the closest I could get you to ‘bunbun’ that wasn’t an actual rabbit)

hi u ILU, here is the first full scene of the living dead rewrite 

They’re resting at a little wayside tea shop on their way back from Qishan when they first hear the whispers.

“So sad, it used to be such a lively town…”

“After the clan going all at once, what else could they have expected?”

“Don’t be so disrespectful! Children died last night--”

Wen Ning’s head jerks up and around sharply at that, for once heedless of the black veins snaking up his neck. He’s too busy frowning at the large group huddled close around their table to care that his robe’s tucks fall away, or that the brim of his hat or the fall of his bangs is no longer hiding what his robes cannot.

Sizhui’s not surprised. Uncle Ning has a soft spot for children.

This tea shop isn’t a part of any town. It can barely be called a village. It’s more road and dust than establishments and it collects rumors more than it does people. Sizhui knows them well—his father dislikes gossip, but tucked away villages could know more about the area than the watchtowers if you were looking for trouble. After all, they have nothing better to entertain themselves, while the guards for the other are often too prone to naps.

The gossipers have yet to notice Wen Ning’s unblinking stare. One of the women, her whispering entirely uneffective, says, “I hear Fu Feng threw out all their candles and lanterns on the side of the road. A wandering traveller tried to pick one up for his journey and the villagers beat him to death out of fear.”

“Yan Liling, do not spread false rumors,” snaps another, her voice like a switch. “They can’t get rid of all the lights. I hear they daren’t even light their stoves though.”

A man winces beside her. “Not even through the winter, when the grounds were hard with ice…”

An old man one table over, blatantly listening in, shakes his head sadly. “Such a shame, such a shame. It used to be such a bright town.”

The group, finally realizing most of the dining room’s been listening in, wince and huddle closer, and do not continue their conversation. A few of the patrons shoot the old man dirty looks, but all return to their own conversations quick enough. 

Wen Ning turns back to his and Sizhui’s table, frustrated. Despite being dead, his face has little trouble settling into dark expressions. He lightens when he realizes Sizhui’s already flagging down a nearby server.

“How can I help you, young master?”

Sizhui looks across the table and is greeted by the top of Wen Ning’s strong hat. The way his shoulders shuffle tells he’s tugging up his robes too before the server can notice his marks, which is...good. Sometimes Sizhui forgets not everyone is okay with his gentle giant uncle.

“Sir?”

Sizhui shakes himself aware and turns to the server with a sweet smile. The server doesn’t seem to find anything amiss (after all, he stares at Sizhui’s ribbon with a knowing, greedy eye--what Lan would travel with a corpse? What could a Lan travel with that could cause more concern than what their wallets could pay?)

“Good sir, do you know which town they were discussing?” Sizhui asks in a quiet murmur, eyes flicking discreetly to the large group.

The server stares at them blatantly and hums, lips pursed in a thoughtful expression. Sizhui swallows down a sigh. He has no interest in continuing to drink this establishment’s bland, over-brewed tea for several hours as he wheedles out the information the server might have to provide for such a meager fare. Such thing would put Wen Ning at risk for discovery, no matter Sizhui’s presence and ribbon, and if children are going missing... 

“If you have no information to offer, I’ll have three bottles of your finest liquor.”

The server and Wen Ning both snap to attention at that--the server with an easy grin and a gleam in his eyes, Wen Ning with as much astonishment as his expression could hold (the faintest rise of his eyebrows, jaw unlocked to allow the smallest gap between his lips).

“Let me get that right for you, sir.” The server licks his lips eagerly. “I won’t be but a moment.”

Sizhui nods politely and lets the server run off with little fuss. Father had taught him that trick--Sizhui never understood how Father of all people had come up with such a notion until Senior Wei had returned to their lives. The first time he’d been present for Father’s trick, he positively gaped at Father, slumped like someone had cut his strings, and then he’d thrown himself into Father’s side with a delighted laugh and a loud cry of, “Lan Zhan, you do remember the things I say!”

The warmth of the memory fills him better than his next sip of tea. Wen Ning is still staring at him, dumbstruck, and Sizhui hides his smile behind the rim of his cup and sips carefully. 

“Do you think Senior Wei will appreciate such a gift?” Sizhui asks after a few more moments of fun. He taps his lip thoughtfully. “I do not know of anyone else that might like such things. I am, after all, a Lan.”

Wen Ning’s astonishment softens into the warmest look. His lips, briefly, like the flicker of a candle, quirk up just slightly at the corners. Corpses’ facial muscles are some of the most affected by death--Sizhui returns his uncle’s beaming smile with his own.

“Master Wei will love anything from his beloved A-Yuan,” Wen Ning says softly. Sizhui’s smile loses to his blush, and he can almost swear Wen Ning’s eyes crinkle fondly in turn. “You know, once, when you were little--”

“Here’s your liquor sir,” the server says happily as he sets down three heavy, rough ceramic jars on the table. Sizhui frowns sharply and wants to snap at the server to go away, but if he does, he’ll have to buy the entire liquor stock just to soothe the wounded ego and he still might not learn everything he needs. Children are dying.

Wen Ning retreats back under his hat. Sizhui smoothes his expression into a faint smile and pulls out his wallet. “You said you knew which town those kind people were talking about?”

The server’s eyes never leave Sizhui’s wallet, though his smile grows. “Mn. It’s called Fu Feng. It’s half a day’s walk south from here. You’ll know when you reach it--they have a bell tower on the tallest hill and they ring every morning, midday, and night so people don’ forget.”

Wen Ning frowns under his hat again, head blatantly tipped to the side to catch the words. Sizhui wants to ask what he knows so badly. Instead, he rummages through his wallet and lets the coins clink together faintly. 

The server licks his lips again. “Fu Feng used to be some big deal ‘round here. Festivals all the time, with all them floating lights, and people would come ‘round from all parts to visit. Then, last year, during the cursed ghost month, a fire wiped out the entire village.”

Sizhui frowns. “A fire? An entire village?” he asks, wracking his brain for a corresponding incident report. Even so far away in Gusu, they would’ve heard of an event that bad. Should have heard, even despite few watchtowers in this area. During his time as Chief Cultivator, Jin Guangyao had reached out to all nobles across the nation to reassure them that they could report incidents to the towers, and then clan cultivators would go out to assist any cultivation matters. The nobles love having someone else clean up the messes, and the cultivation world benefits by preventing any resentful energy from building into larger problems. It’s a very efficient system; Jin Guangyao’s designs always were. 

So why has Sizhui never heard of Fu Feng until now?

The server shrugs. “The sky was dark overhead for two whole days. You don’t get that from a small fire.”

“If the entire village burned,” Wen Ning says softly, hand tugging his collar tighter across his throat, “then why are people still dying in it?”

“I--” The server opens his mouth, but doesn’t reply. Sizhui frowns thoughtfully--no survivors would explain why the watchtowers never received a missive about the destruction. They could perhaps be forgiven for not investigating the matter themself. But Uncle Ning is right--if the entire village burned, why are there tales of haunting ghosts now?

“Well, people must’ve moved back in!” snaps the server. He’s flushed a dark red and his eyes flicker between Wen Ning and Sizhui’s wallet nervously. Sizhui does not roll his eyes at the server’s suggestion--Sizhui is polite and the server must not be familiar with the ways of cultivation. The last thing he wants to do is drive off an informant--even an awful one.

Sizhui places the exact amount of coin for the drink on the table. He barely moves his hand away before the money disappears in a quick snatch, the server visibly calmer. He eyes the large coin peeking through Sizhui’s fingers hungrily. “They say it’s the work of a single spirit. A vengeful demon. It finds the people by following the lights, then it sucks the flesh from their bones.”

Wen Ning and Sizhui share a glance, then Sizhui hands the coin and a twin to the server. “Thank you for your information.”

The server smiles and looks Sizhui in the eye for the first time that night. “You’re welcome sir, thank you sir,” he says, and then he’s gone into the bustle of the crowd.

Sizhui pouts. “It’s not good information, but at least we know now there is something afoot in the town of Fu Feng.”

Wen Ning shakes his head. He still clutches his robes tight around his neck. “It’s more telling than he realized.”

“Really?” Sizhui leans forward eagerly, but Wen Ning’s eyes skitter to their side. Sizhui follows the look discreetly and sees a fellow squinting suspiciously in their direction. Sizhui leans back, disappointed.

“Shall we begin our journey to Fu Feng?”

Wen Ning nods gently, ducking under his hat’s brim. “Let’s.”

[cannibalisticskittles]

Fans wanted a V route that's why we got a V route both him and Saeran weren't meant to be dateable in the first place

yeah that’s definitely the impression i got. hell, that’s why i started the saeran fic in the first place; i figured they didn’t plan to ever make a route for him, so i’d make one.

tbh tho i... think that v’s route straight up shouldn’t have been done. when you design a character around the central concept of How Absolutely Shit At Romance He Is, how he obsesses over a particular view of love to the point that he encourages unhealthy, violent behavior and enables massive harm (A CULT) for years, how he happily loses his eyesight for love because he thinks it’s a noble sacrifice, when he defends that love and that person with his dying death (“rika did nothing wrong” is a direct quote) and shows no sign of changing that mindset... you shouldn’t cave and make him a route because fans want it. all of those reasons why he’s Bad To Date are still there! they’re fundamental problems!

people who really wanted a v route.... well, not all of them, i know, but from the way so. so so many v stans talk about it. it’s like they looked at v and rika and thought “well, this utter shitshow only happened because rika was a crazy bitch. it’s all her fault. v was just her victim, an innocent martyr who did nothing wrong, or if he did something wrong, it’s only because she forced his hand. if she wasn’t in the equation, everything would have been fine. i bet if /I/ dated him, it would all work out great! he definitely would form a healthy relationship with ME!’ (never mind the fact that years before the story started, he not only knew about but had contacts in an incredibly dangerous and influential spy agency, and he shoved an abused 11-year-old into their arms, forcing him to cut ties with his brother and making him live in even more danger than he’d already been in. that’s totally logical behavior, right? that’s not intentionally endangering a child in the most unnecessary and bafflingly dramatic way possible, right? there’s no way that’s going to still be a problem when rika’s out of the picture, right? she had nothing to do with that batshit decision but it’s still totally her fault somehow, v DEFINITELY won’t do anything like that again!)

and, like, i’ve never been sure how aware of v’s problems the writer(s) for v’s route are, but it’s still THERE in his route. it hangs over everything. it’s almost funny; v’s route seems to me to seesaw between ‘yeah, this guy is totally dateable! there’s no problems at all, once we just... sweep them under a rug and never address them! pfft, his actions are toooootally heroic! it’s justifiable to let the kid he was supposed to protect die in a fiery blast because he’s been too useless to act for years, right?? yeah! let’s just not think about the implications! it’s fine!’ and in other places it comes off more like ‘is this what you want?? huh?? you want to date the sadsack obsessed with his girlfriend to the point that he helps a cult thrive and doesn’t stop it from kidnapping or drugging people?? that’s your idea of a good time?? well fine, TAKE IT’

his route feels Weird. and uncomfortable. and i don’t understand fans wanting a route for him but — while i think v fans OUGHT to have picked up on his penchant for nonsensical, harmful behavior, yknow, maybe they thought cheritz would... actually deal with these issues fully instead of vaguely acknowledging some faults and never resolving them? so — i definitely don’t understand cheritz going ahead and writing a route for him when he’s... him. because that weirdness and that discomfort and all the problems in his route stem from the fact that V Is A Miserable Little Man Who Fixates On Love To A Frightening Degree And Who Is Willing To Enable And Sometimes Personally Do Heinous Things. as a writer sometimes you’ve gotta say “sorry to disappoint, but no. have a nice day!”

it’s something that was a bit of a relief in saeran’s after end. the narrative very much embraces how shit v’s current AND past behavior has been. This Man Is Not Someone Who Forms Healthy Relationships, it says. all the stuff with the RFA mourning who they THOUGHT v (and rika) were — especially the scenes focused on jumin — make it clear that even his platonic relationships have huge problems. they’re based on massive lies! and he’s willing to betray their trust and throw them away for the sake of his Romanticized Love! it still doesn’t make up my mind about what the writer(s) behind v’s route thought about him bc damn, there was Too Much handwaving going on, but hey! circling back to how they presented his behavior in the main story/secret end! that’s awesome!

(and to contrast with v a bit, saeran is... traumatized and has shitty coping mechanisms and is willing to go extremely far for his cult and has years of brainwashing to undo, BUT. as a kid initially coerced into this situation, and then as a brainwashed adult who fully bought into the lies he was told and thought everything he/the cult did was to help people in desperate need, yes, he has made shit decisions, but it’s nowhere near the level of things that v or rika have done. he didn’t have the agency to make informed decisions! he was a kid! he was kidnapped! unlike them, he had no basis of comparison to say “hmm. maybe this is fucked up.” v DID have that, and he has no goddamn excuse for allowing saeran to be kidnapped, or drugged, or mint eye to thrive and do that to dozens if not hundreds of other people, For Love. so saeran has potential for a route! he needs therapy and he needs to be out of mint eye and his dad needs to be behind bars or 6 feet under so saeran doesn’t have to live in fear, but. i view him as Capable Of Healthy Relationships Eventually. moreso than v, anyway.

so while saeran’s route is a hot mess and i will Always bring up how shit it is to whip out the ‘wacky mental illness that has no basis in reality and is written just to maximize drama, never mind that it’s hugely insulting to those who actually deal with what they’re flanderizing AND that it contradicts all his characterization previously [unless they’re saying that saeran in the main routes/secret end ALWAYS went through that ~merging of split personalities~ before we see him on screen, bc his characterizations had already been a good mix of both personas]’ idea, the INTENT of the route seems more grounded than v’s; it’s about 50% ‘you wanted edgy, so we’ll give you edgy’ and 50% ‘well, this is as good a place as any to expand a little bit on the character growth alluded to in the secret end and go over a few more aspects of how he’s going to have to come to terms with how much of what he believed was a lie and reconcile with his brother.’ it’s also a weird route, and it clashes against some things that were previously established, but from what i remember, the route was at least internally consistent.

...even so, they should not have done saeran’s route the way they did. if they couldn’t come up with any ideas for a route that didn’t involve ‘jekyll and hyde suddenly!’ they just shouldn’t have done a route for him, either.)

[the-omni-princess]

Frozen Heart [Epilogue]

Author: @the-omni-princess

Summary:  After the war against Hydra, King Bucky comes home to take what has been promised to him since he was young, you. But he is not the same person as the young boy that you grew up with. Can she break through his tough shell and bring back the young man she once fell in love with? Or will she be forced to marry the monster everyone thinks he’s become?

Word Count: 1.7K

Pairing: King!Bucky x Fem!Reader (Royalty Au!)

Warnings: teeth rotting fluff!

A/N:

My beta @annaloveloki is literally the best and that's the t

working on a honeymoon drabble rn, but other than that, it’s the end of this series. My babies <3 lookout for another series, coming out eventually

[Series Masterlist]  [Series Playlist]  [My Masterlist]

----

Growing up, summer was always one of your favorite times of the year. Waking up early to search for seashells with Steve and Bucky or sneaking ice cream into your rooms as you made pillow forts were some of your fondest childhood memories. Now, you spent the summers running the Kingdom, listening to the people, helping as many people as you could, and taking a few weeks off vacation in the South when possible. In the five years since you’ve come to the North, the kingdom has prospered. A good harvest led to a great harvest, and despite a few hiccups and arguments, Bucky was right, you were a great leader for the people. He also did an absolutely wonderful job, listening to the people to build more schools, lowering crime rates, and taxing the nobles more heavily than the lower classes. Some scholars theorized that the kingdom was in the beginning of a new golden age.

So today, like every first Monday of the month for the past few years, you sit on your throne, listening to every person who made the trek to ask for help or thank you. Some days were easy, such as the days where most residents thanked you for the new marketplace that brought jobs to their town. However, some days felt darker, like the day a mother begged for help for her dying son, help she didn’t have the funds to pay for back in her village. Not sparing a second thought, Bucky watched as you helped the boy into Dr. Cho’s arms. The boy miraculously lived, and in response, you had immediately put into place a new health policy in the kingdom. Tax revenues were split, and the extra funds made it possible for the lower class to have health services for a much lower rate, and in some cases free.

The particular woman who was speaking to you, was bringing up an argument between her and her neighbor. A petty fight, really, but you listened nonetheless, giving your opinion. Bucky was the one who answered the next inhabitant's problem.

Usually the kingdom didn’t give you too much trouble, it was mostly the advisors who defied you, never liking your ideas. Bucky, bless his heart, tended to shut them down pretty quickly, his warm voice turning into ice, the protective wolf in him lashing out. Such as the time you shot down an advisor’s idea, one that would only hurt the lower class. His anger exploded, criticizing Bucky when he tried to come to your defense. “Do you allow her to speak that way for you?” the advisor, one you truly didn’t care enough to even know his name had spoken to his king in a harsh way.

Bucky merely snarled back, “Yes, I do, this as well as in many other things, you’d be wise to remember that.” His voice was cold, the first words in his head being growled out at the man. You had placed your hand on top of Bucky’s calming him. You could practically see the steam rolling off his head, something you definitely teased him about later.

You had kept your voice calm, though the advisors that knew you better than that could hear the venom in your words. “Thank you for your concern, sir,” you emphasized his lower title, “but I do believe your King and Queen can handle the problems of the people, and I do not believe I asked for your opinion on this matter.” You quickly dismissed the rest of the meeting, before adding, “And sir, do remember, I am your Queen. You are not my equal, and you will address me as such.” Eyes wide he quickly bowed and rushed off before you could change your mind.

A small squeal from your right pulled you from your thoughts of the past, two small children rushed into the throne room, followed by two blurs of white and grey fur. You son made it to you first, scrambling to hide behind you just as you stood from the throne. You held him close, just out of reach from Aurora and Raine who yipped happily. Your daughter, however, jumped straight into Bucky’s arms, curling up into her clearly favorite parent.

“Brooklyn, what have we said about chasing your brother down the halls?” You chastised softly, still trying to calm the shaking boy wrapped around your leg.

“To plway in the garden instead,” the five-year-old responded dutifully. Bucky tucked her hair behind her ear, just as Natasha rushed in, cradling a small baby in her hands.

“Grant! Brooklyn! There you two are! You shouldn’t run away from me like that!” Brooklyn just buried herself deeper into her father’s protective arms, pouting. Natasha was most likely regretting telling Wanda it was alright to leave all three children in her care, so she could spend time with her new fiancé, the Head Chef, Vision.

“I’m sowwy auntie,” the little girl sniffled, looking up towards the two of you with tears already brimming her eyes. You knew it was just to gain your attention, so you simply did just that. You gently took the babe from Natasha’s arms, cradling the four-month-old into your chest as your son still buried his face into your long white gown.

Bucky sighed softly, gently prying his daughter’s face from his chest. “What do we say, little princess?” he encouraged, making sure she knew he wasn’t mad at her as both you and him gave her the attention she wanted.

Brooklyn sulked again but carefully pushed herself out of her father’s arms, standing in front of her twin brother. “I’m sowwy, bwutha.” She sniffled again, her tiara tilted vicariously in her hair, and Grant pouted as well. You always loved how they wore matching pouts and eyes to their father, as it reminded you of when you were a child. Brooklyn was a ball of energy, and many of her tutors said her main issue was how she could never sit still. You secretly encouraged it, knowing how much energy your future little queen would need. Grant was always the quieter one, reminding you of when Bucky first came back to you. Calculating, quiet, but eyes wide and always taking in new information. The twins knew each other perfectly, and with one sad ‘I’m sorry’ look from Brooklyn, Grant pushed forward and the two hugged each other. They curled up into each other, even when they were babies they always found a way to be close together. Two matching blue eyes looked up at you for approval, wondering silently if it was safe for them to go back to their games. You nodded, and both scrambled to the gardens to play, two adult wolves and one Natasha rushing after them.

You turned to the crowd, holding the baby closer just as she woke up from the noise. “If there aren’t any more life or death situations, I do think it is time to wrap up for today. Food will be served down the hall for anyone who did not bring their own, follow the guards if you have any trouble finding it.”

Bucky stepped closer to you, wrapping his arm around you. “And thank you all for coming,” he smiled warmly before turning his attention to you, pulling you into his arms. “And how is my little princess doing?” he coed at the babe in your arms, who simply squealed and squirmed in your arms.

“I’m doing fine, thanks for asking,” you teased, grinning up at him.

“Ha, ha, very funny, but you are my Queen, this little cutie is my little princess!” he went back to cooing at the babe, thoroughly enjoying her little shrieks of enjoyment. “My beautiful Celeste,” he kissed her nose, grinning at her responding wiggle, “And My Northern Star,” he whispered before kissing you decisively on the lips. Tender lips against yours, and not a care in the world as you held your baby close, and Bucky held you even closer.

Slowly pulling away as Celeste squirmed for attention, you both couldn’t stop the smiles on your faces.  A sudden spark in your mind made you smile even brighter. “Did you hear what Steve and Peggy are naming their child?” The two had gotten married not two years after your own marriage, and now (finally) were expecting their first child together.

“I suppose you’re bringing that up since you’re going to tell me, right?” He teased you back, his hands pressed against your hips, rubbing gentle circles into the fabric of your dress.

You nodded, biting back a smile, “Steve joked and said maybe they should name the baby James since you never have used the name anyway,” you paused, giggling as you saw Bucky’s face scrunch up, positively offended. “But, instead they wanted to name their child after Sam, since he says you stole his close friend and captain of the guard from him.”

Bucky gave you a small gasp, feigning a surprised look, ever the drama queen. “Me? Never!” He dropped the act in favor of smiling again. “Besides, he was the one who sent Sam in the first place, not my fault we became friends.” He shrugged, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You absolute dorks,” you kissed his nose playfully.

“But I’m your dork, y/n/n,” he whispered softly.

You nodded solemnly, like it was a big burden to bare. “That you are. Now, let’s go, My Love, we still have to pack for our trip to the beach house in the South.” You tried tugging yourself from his arms, but with a baby in your arms it was pretty hard to do that.

“I know, I know, our yearly vacation. Maybe this time we can give Brooklyn and Grant a baby brother?” he teased, smirking at the implications despite the obvious joke.

“Oh no, mister, that’s how last year’s conversation started. I just had Celeste, I am not doing that again so soon.” You gave him a look and he simply chuckled, pulling you closer as the two of you walked side by side through the halls.

“I’m kidding, My Love. Besides, we can have plenty of practice,” you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” you nuzzled closer into his warm embrace.

“I love you even more, My Queen.” He kissed your head lightly and you realized how truly at peace you were. No more waiting, no more war. Simply two people in utterly in love, surrounded by their ever-growing family, having the time of your lives. Baby steps had become a literal phrase as the children grew up, and everything felt right in the world. Peaceful, content, full of happiness, your children’s laughter in the distance. You finally did it. The Northern Castle was finally a home again.

---

Tags:

Permanent Tags:

@minetticatinwonderland  

Frozen Heart Tags: (To change your tag, please let me know :D)

@jsmith509 / @lumar014 / @littlemissporter / @kaylaphantomhive  

@damnbuckyishot / @aveatquevale- / @booksbeforebois  

@marvelgirl7 / @irreplaceable-spacexual / @mallorydoesstuff / @heartislubbingdubbing / @zeilenkrieg

Bucky Tags:

@cassandras-musings  / @darkness-doughter / @novaddictx / @thedancingnerdmermaid / @mood-pancakes / @gracethegeek9902

For a tag, just reply/comment, if I don’t see it, just message me. Tell me what you think! Literally, any comment makes me happy! Like, comment, reblog, interact <3

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

19th September >> Mass Readings (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Saturday, Twenty Fourth Week in Ordinary Time 

    or 

Saint Januarius, Bishop, Martyr 

    or 

Saturday memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Saturday, Twenty Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Green)

First Reading

1 Corinthians 15:35-37,42-49

The resurrected body is heavenly by nature

Someone may ask, ‘How are dead people raised, and what sort of body do they have when they come back?’ They are stupid questions. Whatever you sow in the ground has to die before it is given new life and the thing that you sow is not what is going to come; you sow a bare grain, say of wheat or something like that. It is the same with the resurrection of the dead: the thing that is sown is perishable but what is raised is imperishable; the thing that is sown is contemptible but what is raised is glorious; the thing that is sown is weak but what is raised is powerful; when it is sown it embodies the soul, when it is raised it embodies the spirit.

If the soul has its own embodiment, so does the spirit have its own embodiment. The first man, Adam, as scripture says, became a living soul; but the last Adam has become a life-giving spirit. That is, first the one with the soul, not the spirit, and after that, the one with the spirit. The first man, being from the earth, is earthly by nature; the second man is from heaven. As this earthly man was, so are we on earth; and as the heavenly man is, so are we in heaven. And we, who have been modelled on the earthly man, will be modelled on the heavenly man.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 55(56):10-14

R/ I shall walk in the presence of God in the light of the living.

My foes will be put to flight

on the day that I call to you.

This I know, that God is on my side.

R/ I shall walk in the presence of God in the light of the living.

In God, whose word I praise,

in the Lord whose word I praise,

in God I trust; I shall not fear;

what can mortal man do to me?

R/ I shall walk in the presence of God in the light of the living.

I am bound by the vows I have made you.

O God, I will offer you praise

for you have rescued my soul from death,

you kept my feet from stumbling

that I may walk in the presence of God

and enjoy the light of the living.

R/ I shall walk in the presence of God in the light of the living.

Gospel Acclamation

Psalm 118:18

Alleluia, alleluia!

Open my eyes, O Lord, that I may consider

the wonders of your law.

Alleluia!

Or:

cf. Luke 8:15

Alleluia, alleluia!

Blessed are those who,

with a noble and generous heart,

take the word of God to themselves

and yield a harvest through their perseverance.

Alleluia!

Gospel

Luke 8:4-15

The parable of the sower

With a large crowd gathering and people from every town finding their way to him, Jesus used this parable:

‘A sower went out to sow his seed. As he sowed, some fell on the edge of the path and was trampled on; and the birds of the air ate it up. Some seed fell on rock, and when it came up it withered away, having no moisture. Some seed fell amongst thorns and the thorns grew with it and choked it. And some seed fell into rich soil and grew and produced its crop a hundredfold.’ Saying this he cried, ‘Listen, anyone who has ears to hear!’

His disciples asked him what this parable might mean, and he said, ‘The mysteries of the kingdom of God are revealed to you; for the rest there are only parables, so that

they may see but not perceive,

listen but not understand.

‘This, then, is what the parable means: the seed is the word of God. Those on the edge of the path are people who have heard it, and then the devil comes and carries away the word from their hearts in case they should believe and be saved. Those on the rock are people who, when they first hear it, welcome the word with joy. But these have no root; they believe for a while, and in time of trial they give up. As for the part that fell into thorns, this is people who have heard, but as they go on their way they are choked by the worries and riches and pleasures of life and do not reach maturity. As for the part in the rich soil, this is people with a noble and generous heart who have heard the word and take it to themselves and yield a harvest through their perseverance.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

————————————

Saint Januarius, Bishop, Martyr 

(Liturgical Colour: Red)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Hebrews 10:32-36

Be confident now, since the reward is so great

Remember all the sufferings that you had to meet after you received the light, in earlier days; sometimes by being yourselves publicly exposed to insults and violence, and sometimes as associates of others who were treated in the same way. For you not only shared in the sufferings of those who were in prison, but you happily accepted being stripped of your belongings, knowing that you owned something that was better and lasting. Be as confident now, then, since the reward is so great. You will need endurance to do God’s will and gain what he has promised.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 125(126):1-6

Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap.

When the Lord delivered Zion from bondage,

it seemed like a dream.

Then was our mouth filled with laughter,

on our lips there were songs.

Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap.

The heathens themselves said: ‘What marvels

the Lord worked for them!’

What marvels the Lord worked for us!

Indeed we were glad.

Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap.

Deliver us, O Lord, from our bondage

as streams in dry land.

Those who are sowing in tears

will sing when they reap.

Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap.

They go out, they go out, full of tears,

carrying seed for the sowing:

they come back, they come back, full of song,

carrying their sheaves.

Those who are sowing in tears will sing when they reap.

Gospel Acclamation

Jm1:12

Alleluia, alleluia!

Happy the man who stands firm,

for he has proved himself,

and will win the crown of life.

Alleluia!

Gospel

John 12:24-26

If a grain of wheat falls on the ground and dies, it yields a rich harvest

Jesus said to his disciples:

‘I tell you, most solemnly,

unless a wheat grain falls on the ground and dies,

it remains only a single grain;

but if it dies,

it yields a rich harvest.

Anyone who loves his life loses it;

anyone who hates his life in this world

will keep it for the eternal life.

If a man serves me, he must follow me,

wherever I am, my servant will be there too.

If anyone serves me, my Father will honour him.’

—————————————-

Saturday memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary 

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Genesis 3:9-15,20

The mother of all those who live

After Adam had eaten of the tree the Lord God called to him. ‘Where are you?’ he asked. ‘I heard the sound of you in the garden;’ he replied ‘I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid.’ ‘Who told you that you were naked?’ he asked ‘Have you been eating of the tree I forbade you to eat?’ The man replied, ‘It was the woman you put with me; she gave me the fruit, and I ate it.’ Then the Lord God asked the woman, ‘What is this you have done?’ The woman replied, ‘The serpent tempted me and I ate.’

Then the Lord God said to the serpent, ‘Because you have done this,

‘Be accursed beyond all cattle,

all wild beasts.

You shall crawl on your belly and eat dust

every day of your life.

I will make you enemies of each other:

you and the woman,

your offspring and her offspring.

It will crush your head

and you will strike its heel.’

The man named his wife ‘Eve’ because she was the mother of all those who live.

Responsorial Psalm

1 Samuel 2:1,4-8

My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

My heart exults in the Lord.

I find my strength in my God;

my mouth laughs at my enemies

as I rejoice in your saving help.

My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

The bows of the mighty are broken,

but the weak are clothed with strength.

Those with plenty must labour for bread,

but the hungry need work no more.

The childless wife has children now

but the fruitful wife bears no more.

My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

It is the Lord who gives life and death,

he brings men to the grave and back;

it is the Lord who gives poverty and riches.

He brings men low and raises them on high.

My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

He lifts up the lowly from the dust,

from the dungheap he raises the poor

to set him in the company of princes

to give him a glorious throne.

For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s,

on them he has set the world.

My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

Gospel Acclamation

cf.Lk1:28

Alleluia, alleluia!

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee!

Blessed art thou among women.

Alleluia!

Or:

cf.Lk1:45

Alleluia, alleluia!

Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who believed

that the promise made her by the Lord would be fulfilled.

Alleluia!

Or:

cf.Lk2:19

Alleluia, alleluia!

Blessed is the Virgin Mary,

who treasured the word of God

and pondered it in her heart.

Alleluia!

Or:

Lk11:28

Alleluia, alleluia!

Happy are those

who hear the word of God

and keep it.

Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia!

Blessed are you, holy Virgin Mary,

and most worthy of all praise,

for the sun of justice, Christ our God,

was born of you.

Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia!

Happy is the Virgin Mary,

who, without dying,

won the palm of martyrdom

beneath the cross of the Lord.

Alleluia!

EITHER:

Gospel

Matthew 1:1-16,18-23

The ancestry and conception of Jesus Christ

A genealogy of Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham:

Abraham was the father of Isaac,

Isaac the father of Jacob,

Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers,

Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah, Tamar being their mother,

Perez was the father of Hezron,

Hezron the father of Ram,

Ram was the father of Amminadab,

Amminadab the father of Nahshon,

Nahshon the father of Salmon,

Salmon was the father of Boaz, Rahab being his mother,

Boaz was the father of Obed, Ruth being his mother,

Obed was the father of Jesse;

and Jesse was the father of King David.

David was the father of Solomon, whose mother had been Uriah’s wife,

Solomon was the father of Rehoboam,

Rehoboam the father of Abijah, Abijah the father of Asa,

Asa was the father of Jehoshaphat,

Jehoshaphat the father of Joram,

Joram the father of Azariah,

Azariah was the father of Jotham,

Jotham the father of Ahaz,

Ahaz the father of Hezekiah,

Hezekiah was the father of Manasseh,

Manasseh the father of Amon,

Amon the father of Josiah;

and Josiah was the father of Jechoniah and his brothers.

Then the deportation to Babylon took place.

After the deportation to Babylon:

Jechoniah was the father of Shealtiel,

Shealtiel the father of Zerubbabel,

Zerubbabel was the father of Abiud,

Abiud the father of Eliakim,

Eliakim the father of Azor,

Azor was the father of Zadok,

Zadok the father of Achim,

Achim the father of Eliud,

Eliud was the father of Eleazar,

Eleazar the father of Matthan,

Matthan the father of Jacob;

and Jacob was the father of Joseph the husband of Mary;

of her was born Jesus who is called Christ.

This is how Jesus Christ came to be born. His mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph; but before they came to live together she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph; being a man of honour and wanting to spare her publicity, decided to divorce her informally. He had made up his mind to do this when the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because she has conceived what is in her by the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son and you must name him Jesus, because he is the one who is to save his people from their sins.’ Now all this took place to fulfil the words spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son

and they will call him Emmanuel,

a name which means ‘God-is-with-us.’

OR:

Gospel

Matthew 1:18-23

How Jesus Christ came to be born

This is how Jesus Christ came to be born. His mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph; but before they came to live together she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph; being a man of honour and wanting to spare her publicity, decided to divorce her informally. He had made up his mind to do this when the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because she has conceived what is in her by the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son and you must name him Jesus, because he is the one who is to save his people from their sins.’ Now all this took place to fulfil the words spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son

and they will call him Emmanuel,

a name which means ‘God-is-with-us.’

OR:

Gospel

Matthew 2:13-15,19-23

The flight into Egypt and the return to Nazareth

After the wise men had left, the angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, ‘Get up, take the child and his mother with you, and escape into Egypt, and stay there until I tell you, because Herod intends to search for the child and do away with him.’ So Joseph got up and, taking the child and his mother with him, left that night for Egypt, where he stayed until Herod was dead. This was to fulfil what the Lord had spoken through the prophet:

I called my son out of Egypt.

After Herod’s death, the angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, ‘Get up, take the child and his mother with you and go back to the land of Israel, for those who wanted to kill the child are dead.’ So Joseph got up and, taking the child and his mother with him, went back to the land of Israel. But when he learnt that Archelaus had succeeded his father Herod as ruler of Judaea he was afraid to go there, and being warned in a dream he left for the region of Galilee. There he settled in a town called Nazareth. In this way the words spoken through the prophets were to be fulfilled:

‘He will be called a Nazarene.’

OR:

Gospel

Matthew 12:46-50

My mother and my brothers are anyone who does the will of my Father in heaven

Jesus was speaking to the crowds when his mother and his brothers appeared; they were standing outside and were anxious to have a word with him. But to the man who told him this Jesus replied, ‘Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?’ And stretching out his hand towards his disciples he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers. Anyone who does the will of my Father in heaven, he is my brother and sister and mother.’

OR:

Gospel

Luke 1:26-38

'I am the handmaid of the Lord'

The angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the House of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary. He went in and said to her, ‘Rejoice, so highly favoured! The Lord is with you.’ She was deeply disturbed by these words and asked herself what this greeting could mean, but the angel said to her, ‘Mary, do not be afraid; you have won God’s favour. Listen! You are to conceive and bear a son, and you must name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David; he will rule over the House of Jacob for ever and his reign will have no end.’ Mary said to the angel, ‘But how can this come about, since I am a virgin?’ ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you’ the angel answered ‘and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow. And so the child will be holy and will be called Son of God. Know this too: your kinswoman Elizabeth has, in her old age, herself conceived a son, and she whom people called barren is now in her sixth month, for nothing is impossible to God.’ ‘I am the handmaid of the Lord,’ said Mary ‘let what you have said be done to me.’ And the angel left her.

OR:

Gospel

Luke 1:39-47

Blessed is she who believed the promise

Mary set out and went as quickly as she could to a town in the hill country of Judah. She went into Zechariah’s house and greeted Elizabeth. Now as soon as Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leapt in her womb and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. She gave a loud cry and said, ‘Of all women you are the most blessed, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. Why should I be honoured with a visit from the mother of my Lord? For the moment your greeting reached my ears, the child in my womb leapt for joy. Yes, blessed is she who believed that the promise made her by the Lord would be fulfilled.’

And Mary said:

‘My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord

and my spirit exults in God my saviour.’

OR:

Gospel

Luke 2:1-14

'In the town of David a saviour has been born to you'

Caesar Augustus issued a decree for a census of the whole world to be taken. This census – the first – took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria, and everyone went to his own town to be registered. So Joseph set out from the town of Nazareth in Galilee and travelled up to Judaea, to the town of David called Bethlehem, since he was of David’s House and line, in order to be registered together with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. While they were there the time came for her to have her child, and she gave birth to a son, her first born. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger because there was no room for them at the inn.

In the countryside close by there were shepherds who lived in the fields and took it in turns to watch their flocks during the night. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone round them. They were terrified, but the angel said, ‘Do not be afraid. Listen, I bring you news of great joy, a joy to be shared by the whole people. Today in the town of David a saviour has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. And here is a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.’ And suddenly with the angel there was a great throng of the heavenly host, praising God and singing:

‘Glory to God in the highest heaven,

and peace to men who enjoy his favour.’

OR:

Gospel

Luke 2:15-19

The shepherds hurried to Bethlehem and found the baby lying in the manger

Now when the angels had gone from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, ‘Let us go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened which the Lord has made known to us.’ So they hurried away and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in the manger. When they saw the child they repeated what they had been told about him, and everyone who heard it was astonished at what the shepherds had to say. As for Mary, she treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart.

OR:

Gospel

Luke 2:27-35

'A sword will pierce your soul too'

Prompted by the Spirit Simeon came to the Temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the Law required, he took him into his arms and blessed God; and he said:

‘Now, Master, you can let your servant go in peace,

just as you promised;

because my eyes have seen the salvation

which you have prepared for all the nations to see,

a light to enlighten the pagans

and the glory of your people Israel.’

As the child’s father and mother stood there wondering at the things that were being said about him, Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, ‘You see this child: he is destined for the fall and for the rising of many in Israel, destined to be a sign that is rejected – and a sword will pierce your own soul too – so that the secret thoughts of many may be laid bare.’

OR:

Gospel

Luke 2:41-52

Mary stored up all these things in her heart

Every year the parents of Jesus used to go to Jerusalem for the feast of the Passover. When he was twelve years old, they went up for the feast as usual. When they were on their way home after the feast, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem without his parents knowing it. They assumed he was with the caravan, and it was only after a day’s journey that they went to look for him among their relations and acquaintances. When they failed to find him they went back to Jerusalem looking for him everywhere.

Three days later, they found him in the Temple, sitting among the doctors, listening to them, and asking them questions; and all those who heard him were astounded at his intelligence and his replies. They were overcome when they saw him, and his mother said to him, ‘My child, why have, you done this to us? See how worried your father and I have been, looking for you.’

‘Why were you looking for me?’ he replied. ‘Did you not know that I must be busy with my Father’s affairs?’ But they did not understand what he meant.

He then went down with them and came to Nazareth and lived under their authority.

His mother stored up all these things in her heart. And Jesus increased in wisdom, in stature, and in favour with God and men.

OR:

Gospel

Luke 11:27-28

'Happy the womb that bore you and the breasts you sucked!'

As Jesus was speaking, a woman in the crowd raised her voice and said, ‘Happy the womb that bore you and the breasts you sucked!’ But he replied, ‘Still happier those who hear the word of God and keep it!’

OR:

Gospel

John 2:1-11

'My hour has not come yet' - 'Do whatever he tells you'

There was a wedding at Cana in Galilee. The mother of Jesus was there, and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited. When they ran out of wine, since the wine provided for the wedding was all finished, the mother of Jesus said to him, ‘They have no wine.’ Jesus said ‘Woman, why turn to me? My hour has not come yet.’ His mother said to the servants, ‘Do whatever he tells you.’ There were six stone water jars standing there, meant for the ablutions that are customary among the Jews: each could hold twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to the servants, ‘Fill the jars with water’, and they filled them to the brim. ‘Draw some out now’ he told them ‘and take it to the steward.’ They did this; the steward tasted the water, and it had turned into wine. Having no idea where it came from – only the servants who had drawn the water knew – the steward called the bridegroom and said, ‘People generally serve the best wine first, and keep the cheaper sort till the guests have had plenty to drink; but you have kept the best wine till now.’

This was the first of the signs given by Jesus: it was given at Cana in Galilee. He let his glory be seen, and his disciples believed in him.

OR:

Gospel

John 19:25-27

'Woman, this is your son'

Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala. Seeing his mother and the disciple he loved standing near her, Jesus said to his mother, ‘Woman, this is your son.’ Then to the disciple he said, ‘This is your mother.’ And from that moment the disciple made a place for her in his home.

[weightlessrosewrites]

Writing Prompt #4

You die, and death appears before you to guide you to the afterlife. You expect a dark and cruel creature, like they tell of on Earth, but he's actually... A dork. He's a pale, skinny kid with dark hair falling into his eyes, and wearing jeans and a hoodie. Tw: Mention’s of death in beginning.  Masterlist ----------------- I stood beside my body, which was sprawled out across the road. A frown graced my lips as I watched my mother sob into my uncles arms. My bestfriend stood silently, tears sliding down her face. I was twenty-four, life cut short because of some douche bag who sped up as I crossed the intersection with my friend. I pushed her out of the way and died for it, but... At least I can say my life was worth something. I looked around, the paramedics were just arriving, but it was absolutely to late.

" Hey... " I looked up sharply, now noticing there was a guy I've never seen before, looking at me. I quirked a brow. " You can see me? " He nodded, smiling slowly. " I'm Death. I've come to take you to the afterlife. What did you believe in? "

I tilted my head, confused. " What do you mean by that? What afterlife I believed in? " He nodded. " What you believed in, is where I'll take you. " " What happens if you didn't really.. believe in anything? " I responded, walking over without a second glance at my body.

Death tilted his head. " Well, then you'll come with me. It's not often I find someone like you. " I shrugged, " Works for me, I guess. "

Now that I thought about it as I stared at him, Death was kind of... cute, in that dorky way. I followed as he walked through a dark space that looked suspiciously like a door. " Did you feel fulfilled at all? With your life cut short? " Death asked suddenly, but I didn't answer straight away. Instead I stayed silent, thinking. Had I? It's not like my life was much... I had my mom, my uncle and his kids, and then my best friend. They had always been all I needed, so I answered him.

" Yes, my life wasn't worth much, but I did what I enjoyed, and in the end, I saved my best friends life.. If I hadn't then I'd definitely have regrets. " Death regarded me with a curious expression. " Are you scared of death? " He asked. I shook my head. " No. I was more scared of loosing my friend, but I'm glad it was me. She's going to do great things in the future, I just know it. "

" I see... You're very noble T.J. " Death turned away and pushed what I thought was just a regular piece of dark space open to reveal what looked like a living room/foyer. I looked around. " This is really nice. " I commented, slowly spinning in a circle as the, what I dubbed as a shadow door, disappeared. " You think? " I looked over at Death, who looked surprised. " Yeah dude, it's really nice. Definitely not what I was expecting. " I chuckled slightly.

" I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, it's rather bright and homey, not at all what you'd think when looking at myself. " He mused, smiling. I grinned, content. This wasn't going to be as bad as I thought it'd be. " So, how often do you come across people like myself? " Death picked up a ghostly looking tabby. " Not very often. I only have two others living here with me. A guy and a girl. " " oh yeah? That's pretty cool. " I said as I watched him shrug, setting the cat down again. " They're nice. Eos and Max. I think you'll fit right in. " He smiled at me, and I smiled back. " I think so too. "

---

I walked around the house with Eos. " So, what's Death like? " The small girl peered up at me through her mess of blonde hair. " Death? Well... He's sort of like.. He's like big brother. He's kind, a dork, and really sweet. He may seem like he doesn't care, but he does! And he has shy moments. " She responded, smiling happily.

I smiled, but it seems like Death's personality was different to what that person needed. But I ruffled her hair anyways, causing her to giggle. " I have to ask, but what gender are you, T.J.? " Eos asked me with the cutest expression ever. I smiled at her. " I'm gender fluid, but I don't expect you to understand that completely considering how young you are. You can use he or she,  I don't mind. " I pushed my bangs behind my ears and smiled at her reassuringly, as she wore a confused expression. It didn't last long as her smile returned. " okay! I'm going to go play with my dolls now. " I chuckled. " Alright, go ahead. " I watched her run off with a smile.

---

I flopped down on Max's bed and he groaned from underneath me. " T.Jaaayyyyyyy. " Max whined groggily. " I was sleeping dude. " I smiled cheekily. " yeah, I know. I have a question, now that I've been here awhile. " He only groaned again from below me as he shifted to shove me off him. " Alright, the hell is it? It better be good. " Max grumbled, running a hand through his straight, black hair to shove it out of his face, clearly showing displeasure at being woken. I chuckled softly.  " What's Death's personality like? "

Max was silent for a few moments, clearly caught off guard. He looked out his window into the dark field. It was always dark here. " Death is.. interesting. He's mostly quiet, and since people die all the time, he's not around often, so it gets a little lonely with just Eos and myself, and I'm actually sort of... Happy he brought you back, but.. his personality? It's kind of hard to gauge. " He said slowly after a moment, really thinking out his response. " If I had to describe him, I'd say he would be a moody, young adult who didn't grow out of the goth phase. "

I snorted. " Like you're one to talk. " - " Shut up! " Max huffed. " But that's how I'd describe him. He's kind, bu definitely on the moody side... But if you're down, you can vent to him and he'll comfort you to the best of his abilities. It'll take time to heal from dying, and you'll miss your live family for a long time so.. Don't hesitate to talk to him about it. The thing you turn into if you do let it get to you is not... pretty. "

I tilted my head and gave Max a confused look. " What do you mean? " I asked, but Max only shook his head. " It's a touchy subject, for Death especially, but we used to have another guy living here. He and Death were really tight. " I watched Max lean against the wall, blowing his hair out of his eyes again. " I'm not sure what happened, but.. I guess the loss got to him one day, and he just.. I don't even know what it was, but Death had to.. I wouldn't say kill, because you can't technically die a second time but at the same time, that's kind of what it was. Death was really distraught, and it still upsets him. "

I nodded slowly. " I see... So, what was his name? " Max looked at me. " His name was Allistor. Had the funniest accent ever, and man could he drink. " I watched him chuckle, and smiled slightly, though an odd feeling bubbled up. I had an uncle named Allistor, he was Scottish. Though I wasn't related to him by blood, he was still family. I must have had a conflicted look on my face because Max asked me what was wrong.

" Pardon? " I asked.   " I said, what's up dude? You have the most conflicted look I've ever seen on someone. " Max furrowed his brows, looking at me concerned. " I just.. I had an uncle named Allistor, he was Scottish and married my uncle, adopted a couple kids with him. He had a drinking problem, and that's why he passed away young, but he was a really nice guy. "

Max gave me the look. You know the one, like someone's seen a ghost? Ironic since that's what we were. " And he's where I got my.. you know, not believing in any after life deal. " Max shook his head. " That was totally your uncle. Holy fucking shit dude. "

I sighed softly. " Well, back to Death's personality. Please. " " Right, I went over moody, young adult who never grew out of goth, he's kind... He's quiet, oh yeah. Death is ridiculously sweet. Definitely dorky in his own way. " Max nodded to himself. " A good guy all around once you get under that layer of protectiveness. "

I nodded and raised my fist to him. " Thanks bro, sorry for disturbing you. " Max shook his head, fist bumping me. " Nah bro, I understand. He's an interesting dude, I totally get wanting to understand him more. "

I smiled and got up, bidding Max goodbye and leaving. That was definitely not something I expected to hear, my poor uncle. He really missed his kids and husband. It made my unbeating heart hurt.

---

I knocked on Death's door, hoping he was home. I was lucky and he was. " Come in. " He called, so I pushed the door open with a sheepish expression. " Hey... " He looked up from the book he had in his hands, a black smoke slowly curling off it. " I know that look. " He sat up, setting the book down and pat the spot beside him. " What's up? " I was silent for a moment, sitting down. How was I to word this? I didn't want to upset him. " I was talking to the other two, get to know you via their points of view, and I learned something that kind of... made my heart hurt a little bit. I was told not to ask you.. but I'm really curious. "

Death studied me for a second. " If this is about Allistor... I don't exactly want to talk- " " -He was my uncle. " I interrupted boldly, and instantly felt incredibly stupid. Death completely stopped. Froze up. I wanted to back out and leave now. I wanted to die again.

" I.. see. " Was all Death said, and I immediately started apologizing profusely, but he only smiled bitterly and waved me off. " Don't worry, I thought there was something about you that I liked. " I sighed. " I'm sorry, I just... Was curious. That's all. " Death nodded. " I completely understand. He was happy, but he let the loneliness eat at him. I've never had kids, so I didn't know what it was like to miss them. " I nodded and Death smiled sheepishly, which made my dead heart race. I couldn't get over how gorgeous this man was.

Apparently he noticed too. " You're blushing, did I do something wrong? Say something wrong? " Death asked, concern filling his voice. I panicked. " No no! You're fine! I just can't get over how gorgeous you are, really it's a crime! " I said quickly, and went redder. I watched as his pale cheeks slowly tinged red. " I uh.. That was unexpected? "

Great, I embarrassed him. I covered my face in embarrassment. " I'm sorry - I didn't mean too - Gods forget I said that. " I fumbled with English. Had English always been that difficult? Probably. But instead of shooing me away, Death laughed, and I peeked through my fingers. Gods, that was a beautiful sound.

" I-I know what afterlife I believe in. " I said blurted out, making Death look at me with a puzzled expression. " Oh? " " The afterlife I-I believe in is with you. " Death slowly went red again. " That's-That's fine with me. " I watched him lean over and give my forehead a chaste kiss. I covered my face in embarrassment and he chuckled.

This was exactly what I wanted in life. To share mine with someone equally as dorky and awkward as myself. Sure, I missed my mother, my best friend, my uncle and my two cousins. I missed them dearly, but it was something I could live with. I know I'll see them again one day.

I'll continue looking over them all until their time comes. And when that happens, I'll introduce Death as the love of my life.

[msbluebell]

what about a "you start war, you face consequences AU"? At the end of BE Route, Edelgard thinks have achieved her goal. But everything go wrong! First, Claude, who has survived, becomes the king of Almyra and declare war to her to the Empire . And he's VERY powerful. Also some former nobles of Alliance and Kingdom don't accept the reunification and start a rebellion with the former knights of Seiros . The peace wil not happen any soon and a lot of people die or suffer or join the rebellion 1-2

2-2. Finally, Felix has survived and becomes the feral guy and decides to avenge Dimitri (his best friend), Rodrigue (his dad) and Sylvain (his lover) by killing the black eagles one by one and nobody (even Byleth) can stop him, no matter what they do. And Byleth has not the power of Sothis anymore. They can only watch everything falling apart, while being powerless. They can only watch their friends die by Felix's hands, Claude taking back the Alliance AND the Kingdom, ect...

This is actually what would have most likely happened if the Black Eagle Route didn’t have an Deus Ex Machina ending and the Crests and God powers didn’t disappear for no reason. I have made no secret of the fact that Black Eagles is my least favorite Route (yes, I’m including Church Route in this), and the lack of actually having to reform and change the system thanks to magical convenience is one of the reasons. 

Nobles will not give up their crest fixation just because Edelgard hates crests. And without crest disappearing, it is unlikely they will take to Edelgard’s reforms. She may end up turning her own allies against her. Especially ones that don’t believe in her cause and just gave up because they didn’t want to be killed.

Also, it is a very, very, very dumb move to spare Claude in the Black Eagles Route. No matter what, he is a political opponent that proved he’s 1) very manipulative 2) very good at thinking on his feet and gathering resources. He should have died just to eliminate the potential for later rebellious uprisings, even if Byleth and Edelgard didn’t know anything about his ties to Almyra. Looking objectively at Claude’s goals and the ending of Black Eagles Route, yeah, he still has a dream of uniting Fodlan and Almyra. And unlike Fodlan, Almyra isn’t suffering from being war torn for five years. There IS a chance he’d come in take over, especially if any of his friends died in the battle. 

Point is, Black Eagles Route has a lot of potential for mess if the crests don’t vanish (which I am so fixated on. The CHURCH didn’t make the crests, so why did they disappear? I interpret Byleth’s powers disappearing because they choose to relinquish them, which is a slap in the face to Sothis btw Byleth, but why did the CRESTS disappear when the Church fell? They had nothing to do with their creation! Ugh.)

(Black Eagles, much as I dislike their Route based on their actions and lack of self-awareness, still deserved a better written ending.)

But I’m ranting. Let’s get on to the prompt with Consequences AU:

I’ve spoken in another post about how Byleth, as I interpret them, more accidentally sided with the Black Eagles than anything. It would be the same in this AU, accidentally burning their bridges when they saved Edelgard in the tomb. Then they were forced to see the path through to the end because they couldn’t go back to anyone else, and they DID disagree with Rhea and distrust the Church, so maybe Edelgard is right...?

It was foolish to hope, in hindsight.

Rhea going mad was something that they expected, but they didn’t think their own actions would be the breaking point that drove her to such insanity. And they can’t erase the image of Dimitri kneeling in the rain as an axe meets his flesh. So many of their students died...but that was just...pitiful.

Edelgard assures him that it was for a better future, that all the death and sacrifice now will mean less suffering later.

But it’s hard to look at the people suffering in the NOW and think it’s better for the future. It’s like Edelgard is so fixated on the world that will be she forgot to take care of the world they’re in, or maybe she didn’t, and the people around her just don’t seem as real to her as the people in the future she’s envisioned.

Byleth’s first clue that everything was going wrong should have been their hair and eye color returning to it’s original state.

Sothis and they...the both of them have always been one, whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing. They are a single entity that was separated and then made whole again. But now there is an emptiness inside of them, and the emotions they’ve developed are fast fading again. They’re becoming numb once again as they lose the part of themselves that was her, and they don’t understand why.

Soon, they even stop caring.

Edelgard insisted that it was a wonderful sign. That they pointed their blades towards the heavens and won, so her path must be the righteous path.

Byleth no longer cares enough to correct her.

Their students, the Black Eagles, frown more when they speak now. Byleth has lost their emotions, so the fondness is ebbing away again. They’re distressed as they lose their teacher, and Byleth tries to pretend they care until even that seems pointless.

They follow Edelgard because they know that’s what they decided to do, not because they care. They’re too muted now, and even guilt is slipping away as time erodes more and more of Sothis from their very being.

Then the murders start to happen.

It starts when Dorathea was found outside of the Opera House. Her body had been cut down by the singular strike of a sword, left to rot in the street by an unknown assassin. The Black Eagles mourn, and Edelgard swears justice will be paid. The guards are doubled in the city and the hunt is on.

It doesn’t keep Fernidand from dying later. His entire platoon was killed, a mix of sword wounds and Reason magic leaving behind a field of corpses. Witnesses say it was a pale, dark haired, man. Just one. With an unused lance tied to his back. Something about revenge, the witnesses say. For a father, a best friend, a brother, a sister, and a lover.

A year goes by and the guards get lazy again. It seems the assassin had reached their goal or died in the process.

Until Almyra declares war.

Byleth gives their advice as it is sought, but no longer cares enough to see to the personal welfare of the troops themselves. It’s...demoralizing, to say the least.

Then Berneddeta dies in her room, a knife left behind, the signal of House Gautier’s crest carved into the hilt of the blade. A warning.

There are no Gautiers left, though, they were all killed, so it can only be Felix, Byleth explains to Edelgard, because there is no one else left to avenge House Gautier, and Felix was a childhood friend of both Dimitri, who is dead, Ingrid, who died defending Dimitri, and Sylvain, who also died in that battle.

Edelgard puts a bounty on his head.

But her troops are too spread thin with Almyra’s sudden and unrelenting assault. With another war on the horizon, many nobles that don’t care for Edelgard or were taken over surrender to Almyra without hesitation. Fodlan is once again halved, and with it Edelgard’s forces.

Then Lindhardt is killed by Felix, this time with a note: “I’m coming for you Edelgard.”

Claude, it seems, is the leader of the Almyran forces, and declares quite happily that he’s going to make Fodlan a part of his country. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes when he says it though, and he’s barely holding back heavy disgust.

Byleth can’t help but think of how foolish they are when they have sentiment.

Byleth also advises Edelgard to surrender.

“Not you.” Edelgard begs, knuckles gripped against the table, “Of all people, you cannot abandon me.”

But the Byleth she wants is long gone. Or, actually, they never existed. But if if they had her dream killed them until nothing but a numb shell was left behind. Byleth, as the are, is under no illusions of what they are now. A walking corpse, with all that made them human faded into the back with a sleeping Goddess that was once themselves. 

Casper, who swore he wouldn’t let another one of his friends die, falls next. Felix, it seemed, has sided with Claude and is now leading the lands that was formally Faerghus. The people of the Alliance and Fearghus help rebel, throwing riots so large that they cannot be suppressed.

Petra is gone shortly after, taken by riots.

“FOR GOOD KING DIMITRI!” Cry out the people of Faerghus as they flood the streets of Fhiridad. Imperial soldiers are pushed back by people not even wearing armor, such is their numbers, and when actual soldiers come Faerghus is no longer a Dukedom of the Empire.

“FOR THE NOBLE CAUSE!” Cry the people of the Alliance as they’re lead by those still left of the Golden Deer. Hilda’s older brother has taken the helm and lead them to victory.

When they finally take Enbarr Byleth isn’t fighting. They don’t care, and watch from Edelgard’s side as they march her palace. They warn her to surrender, but she claims she’ll die first.

Felix walks in, and cuts down Hubert. Claude walks in behind him, hands on his hips, looking up at Edelgard and Byleth with a cold smile, “Did you get what you wanted?”

“I don’t want things.” Byleth answers, emotionless, “I haven’t since the power Sothis gave faded away, and I was left incomplete again.”

“Sounds awful, hope all this was worth that.” Claude answers as Edelgard’s eyes widen in horror.

“Perhaps if I could still feel, that would hurt.” Byleth answers him, “But I can only remember what emotions felt like, the experience is lost to me now.”

“...wow, that almost makes killing you feel like I’m being merciful.” Claude remarks as Felix glares from beside him, “Teach, why did you DO this to yourself?”

“I had meant to take Edelgard prisoner.” Byleth confesses, “I was simply run out and had nowhere else to go. Helping her seemed like the logical choice at the time, but it’s strange, I can’t see the logic in it now.”

Claude originally meant to take Byleth prisoner, if they could somehow be captured. Interrogate them and whatnot, allow their former students to air their grievances before they were executed for treachery. 

Not that just feels too cruel when Byleth was apparently already killed long ago.

So, when the final battle ends, Claude tells Felix to end Byleth.

Byleth never even lifts their sword.

[kayann9]

Into the Woods (one shot. M! Kayden X F! MC)

Kayden (Trystan) POV

One shot - M! Kayden X F! MC)

Words: 1543

Rating: M for violence. All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Just be aware, this chapter focuses on the aftermath of the wolf dying so there are some scenes that relate to this that some may find distressing. 

Tags: @parkerattano @gettingonmykneesfordamiennazario @mightyfangirlofthefandoms @rexgwapolagi @adrianadmirer​ @referencees

What a hunt indeed, though after the events of the day, I worry about who the prey really is.

“My Father killed the beast in front of her.” Alexander is angry; it is clear from his voice and his pacing. “What do I do?”

I know what I would do in this situation, Father be damned.

At my silence, he shakes his head and resumes his pacing. I almost remind him that my purpose is to keep his blood flowing and his legs in use; matters of his tyrannical family are far above my paygrade. Only, I may renege that notion where Lady Eva is concerned.

“Your Regency, with all due respect, this is an unremarkable response from your Father.”

I calm the flow of blood in my veins with some well-disguised deep breaths.

Alexander snorts a response. We both know it to be true. It had not been the first time Damon Fierro had used shock tactics to get his own way in the court; his reputation as a hardened brute had been very well earned through the years. It had become a near myth how once a severed hog head, eyeballs intact and horror on its face, had turned up on the doorstep of one of the army generals when they had refused to send extra security for Renza’s wedding. His temper tantrums usually ended in the untimely demise of some unsuspecting creature.

My jaw locks when Eva flashes into my mind; the most unsuspecting of all the creatures. Even wild animals have some self-preservation; she is too good for that. Something that concerns me incessantly.

“I know this Trystan. I just wish it were not visited on her.”

My fists curl at the mere suggestion he had no idea.

I bite my tongue; it would be very easy for me to overstep here and friends we are not. Still, his cluelessness drives me mad; of course, he knew this would happen. The precious heir to the throne, inviting very open advances onto the new court novelty. It is of no surprise to me that his Father reacted in this very way.

Alexander’s carelessness had caused a headache more than once in my life, but this was simple, wilful ignorance.

A deep breath is the only way to let go of my frustration; a lie is the only way to let go of this conversation. “I am sure Lady Eva will be well, my Lord.”

Or at least she shall be when I have done what I intend on doing once I can leave this godforsaken tent.

Alexander’s pacing stops and he gives a nod. “Yes. I am sure. She is most capable. Thank you Trystan, that will be all.”

It will perhaps be all for him but not for me.

As I leave the tent, once again trying to shrug away his utter naivety, my blood begins to boil once more. My boots seem louder than I would normally like them as they march through the dry leaves in the woods, but I do not stop their purpose. Only when I happen upon the clearing we had worked in earlier do I still.

The wolf is still there, tongue lolling from its mouth and blood soaking the ground where the arrow pierced its heart. Very brave of a man to hit a trapped target. My stomach clenches as I can only but imagine her feelings as she watched that creature fall to the ground with a dying squeal.

Damon Fierro is a sick man. One I would quite happily see end in this way too, but I have something much more visceral up my sleeve; something that makes me question my own morality but where Eva is concerned, I am happy to do what Alexander is not.

The camp clears as the sun drifts lower in the sky; the nobles getting ready for their balls away from their sleeping quarters. It is then I act. The guards leave with Damon, his tent left unattended. With the beast on my shoulder, soaking my uniform in blood, I make my way over to it and I return the favour, hoping this invites just as much distaste. He should have to clean up his own mess. He should have to face his brutish behaviour; a savage pretending to be a gentleman.

Only when I am satisfied that the scene inside his bed sheets is grisly enough, do I take my leave and clean up.

I find Eva less than an hour later, sat outside her smaller tent, playing with a wolf cub. I cannot help but smile. I want shake Alexander by the shoulders; I should have made him come and watch this. Made him see that this is the spirit you are wishing to be crushed by tyrants and snakes; a kind and gentle spirit, still with its own grit, but one that should not have had to see what it saw today. But, another part of me wants to keep this only for myself. That, I suppose, is the part of me that is most problematic. The part of me that cannot shake the masquerade ball and the question of what might have been different if in fact she had been able to go back to being a scribe.

I had arranged for blue peonies to be sent to the library the following morning.

They might even still be there.

Those flowers, probably along with any hope I had of her, are in that library dying a slow death as we speak.

“Are you going to watch me all evening or would you like to meet Valiant?” Her eyes do not leave the cub as she speaks though I can see her grin. How long had she known I was there? In fact, how long had I been there?

Still, I pay no mind to the questions I shall never have an answer to.

Whilst I sit, the wolf cub sniffs at my boots before attacking my feet. “Cute.”

“I know. He is rather spirited.” Eva’s laugh is light but troubled.

“I heard about what happened earlier. Are you-”

“He does not frighten me. He angers me. A bully who thinks that killing a defenceless creature is going to do anything but make me disgusted.” Her hand scoops up the cub and places him on her lap. “The poor little thing. He saw it all. Can you imagine if Damon had seen him? I cannot even bear to think.”

I want to grab her hand so badly that I place my own under my thigh.

“He is a cruel man.” One that I hope will enjoy his spoils of war later on in the evening. “Despair gives courage to cowards.”

“You are wise. Thank you for checking on me.”

“Always, my lady.” I mean it which frightens me more than Damon Fierro ever could. “Valiant is lucky to belong to such a genuine and caring soul. I am sure he is very grateful for your kindness.”

Slowly, she places him onto my lap and for a moment, he scurries before finally resting his paws on my chest and giving me an appraising look. I smile and pat him gently. And of course, as always, she is completely correct; had Damon seen him, it would have been another matter entirely.

“Perhaps you are changing your mind on having companions?”

The heavens seem to be repaying my cold blooded behaviour from earlier. My impression of companionship had changed when we spoke on the balcony overlooking Cordonia – not that I could ever tell her that. “Perhaps, a four-legged friend would not be so bad.”

Her sigh drifts into my ears like a melancholic tune. “You are a tough nut to crack Trystan Vescovi.” The laugh that follows is only dipped in humour. “But I shall let it be known that I am rather persistent.”

Of course, she is and once again my minds tears in half; one imbibed with duty and the other that cannot help but light up at the very thought of the possibility she may like me more than Alexander.

A scream, plus a flurry of footfalls interrupt anything I was about to say; Valiant jumps from my lap and hides behind my legs. Before I even know what I am doing, instinct kicks in and I push Eva behind me, her protests quiet in my ears as they focus on the racket.

“A beast in my tent!” My shoulders relax at the proclamation. Shouts of horror fill the camp and I cannot help but feel a slight sense of pride, no matter how petty and juvenile the whole thing is.

“What is going on?” Eva’s hand is light on my arm. I do not move it as I turn to her, the hint of a smile on my mouth.

“It is a most glorious of occasions when cowards have to face up to their behaviours, do you not agree?”

“Trystan? What did-”

I cut her off with a bow. “You should get ready for the evening’s festivities my lady. I shall attend to the commotion. I bid you a pleasant farewell.”

It is with that parting comment that I know I am in trouble – the kind of trouble that is completely worth it.

[apple-grass-and-smiles]

Leading Us Home

In an absolutely miraculous and never-to-be-seen-again series of events, inspiration struck twice in the course of 24 hours, so you get another Batcat story adapted from a Taylor Swift song and thousands of words in various chats about the meaning of home to Selina.

Summary: Selina has a motto: "You can't have a home if you don't have a house."

           Selina, at her most basic, core self, has a pretty major issue with the word ‘home’. Like most important (but sad) ideas that become fundamental to understanding an individual, it’s an issue that started when she was a child. Selina remembers being six, maybe seven, the first time she got caught by the police. The officer was a large man who clearly was more interested in the baseball game going on in the background than Selina or the fact that she was so malnourished that you could count all her ribs if you bothered to give her more than a cursory glance. She can still see him bending down to look her in the eye, completely ignoring the bruises and cuts that covered every inch of her skin, and asking her where home was.

           Even at the tender age of six or seven, Selina was smart enough to recognize that as a stupid question. So she gave it all the weight it deserved and simply shrugged before replying, “You ain’t got no home if you ain’t got no house.”

           It’s a phrase that even now, at age 32, Selina Kyle stands by.

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

           When Selina was about 20, her mother sent her a letter. In it were far too many paragraphs where she apologized profusely for any of her words to feel even the slightest bit sincere. She would have happily burned the letter without a second thought if not for the picture included. In the partially ripped, incredibly stained photo stood a young Maria, eyes with bags beneath them, standing in front of a dilapidated brownstone with a tiny infant in her arms. The letter explained that the one-bedroom apartment had been home to Maria, Selina, and the unnamed photographer for the first year or so of Selina’s life. The address, Maria wrote, was 416 Lily Dr. and she hoped that maybe knowing where Selina had come would somehow help her know where she was going. The idea was, of course, completely stupid, because that building might have been where she learned to walk and say her first word and smiled for the first time, but the only record of those things were Maria’s memories and Selina was past the point of harboring any dreams that her mother would one day come back to share those distant memories with her daughter.

           After all, you don’t have a home if all that’s left is a pitiful photo and an address for a house.

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

           St. Maria’s orphanage ended up being “home” for Selina until she was about 10 and had realized that sleeping underneath the bridge with a ratty blanket was better than sharing a twin bed with two other girls and having to dress up once a week to see if someone wanted to try and adopt her. (The nuns always described her as a free spirit, but everyone seemed to know that the term simply meant that Selina would never sit still long enough to make herself at home and would instead leave with a backpack full of your food and whatever she could snag from your wallet.) All in all, the orphanage wasn’t the worst place ever and she got off relatively easily in comparison to some of the other abandoned children she knew, but it also could never be mistaken for a home. Everything about the place, from the mismatched floor tiles to the peeling wallpaper that couldn’t seem to decide if it wanted to stay on the walls or accept it’s death, screamed of impermanence. Nothing and no one in the building wanted to stay. The girls wanted to go to families. The nuns wanted to go to mass. The hopes and dreams of everyone within wanted to go to people who could actually have a shot at realizing them.

           To be fair to the nuns and the orphanage and the dying wallpaper, it wasn’t their fault. Everyone knows you can’t make a home out of a place meant for escaping.

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

           Selina was 13 when someone once again tried to give her an address to stay at. By 13 she was pretty certain homes and houses were meant for people with bank accounts and three meals a day and that she’d have to be content with squats and crash pads and surprisingly large cardboard boxes along the pier. She wasn’t particularly bitter about this information as much as she was ready for everyone to stop trying to prove her wrong.

           But, sadly for her, Jim Gordon was the type of person who was incredibly determined to convince Selina that she was wrong so he arranged for her to stay with Bruce Wayne while the rookie cop attempted to track down the false leads she had given him. Even now, decades later, Selina can hear the creak of the large doors echoing as the butler opened the front door and welcomed Selina inside for the first time. By age 13 Selina felt quite confident that she had seen the best Gotham had to offer, but this mansion was something else entirely. It was the kind of place that could house every homeless kid she spoke to in a month and have none of them ever run into each other. She could have survived her entire life off of stealing the small, but priceless trinkets within the mansion. No one would even have noticed and she would have maybe been able to afford a nice sleeping bag.

           Selina had wandered into the foyer as the adult men talked in the entryway. It was a strange place, the Wayne Manor, it seemed torn between proving that it belonged to the great and noble Wayne family and desperately attempting to convince you that you were safe and loved and understood by the people who lived within its walls. Everywhere there were signs of wealth, but there were also signs of someone, maybe the mother, working to make the manor a home. There were family photos, not portraits, on various walls, board games, so many records and record players that Selina stopped counting at 16, all of which seemed meant to serve only to encourage visitors to ignore the empty chill of the enormous rooms.

           Selina, with all the wisdom of a 13-year-old who was tired of fake displays of love already, simply rolled her eyes and headed up the stairs to investigate a very nice blue and white vase. Didn’t the manor’s decorator know that a manor isn’t a house and you can’t have a home without a house?

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

           By age 17, Selina Kyle knew the Wayne Manor better than anyone else. Alfred would have, and did, argue with her about this particular statement, but she refused to relinquish the title. After all, he had arranged for the security system and he didn’t know if half as well as Selina did. (At the beginning of this years-long argument, Bruce had foolishly suggested that perhaps he was the one who knew the mansion best, which prompted Selina to throw her spaghetti bolognese at him while Alfred pretended to not notice; Bruce had quickly withdrawn his name from the competition.)  Selina certainly didn’t live at the manor, but there was always the same room made up for her and ready should she ever decide to stop by. The room was nice and Bruce had even put a small stuffed cat on the bed sometime when she was 14, but it was not the room she spent the most time in. Instead, the little, informal kitchen and dining room was the spot in the manor that most captured her heart. She knew that room perhaps better than anywhere else in the world. She knew that the fourth wood plank from the door creaked and had memorized exactly how to walk to not make any noise. She knew that the bush of cornelias underneath the window by the sink smelled best during the summer rainstorms and that if you only opened the window a few inches you could enjoy the smell without letting any rain into the room. Looking back, she blessed every one of the moments she spent in that room with the rain gently tapping on the roof and the smell of the flowers filling the kitchen. (One time Bruce had bought her a cornelia flower perfume and the poor boy was baffled to discover that she refused to wear it when it wasn’t raining out.)

           It was exactly one of these rainy afternoons when Selina realized that perhaps she was too close to the manor and its inhabitants. She had snuck in earlier than morning and helped herself to a sandwich before settling in in the kitchen. She knew Bruce and Alfred would be out and had been excited to see their faces when they returned to find an extra, unexpected person in the house. However, when they returned with bags full of groceries, they greeted Selina like she had been there the whole time and simply declined the offer to go grocery shopping, not as if she had broken in. Bruce had assured her that they had remembered to get her the pomegranate juice and granola bars she liked since she had run out last week and Alfred had reminded her that the sweater she had left there a couple days ago was at the dry cleaners and should be ready to be picked up later this afternoon if she would be so kind as to grab it the next time she went into the city. And then, with a sense of horror washing over her, Selina realized she knew exactly where to put all the items in the grocery bag she’d been handed to unload. So, she raced to put the asparagus in its drawer, the lightbulbs in the mudroom off to the left of the dining room, and the cinnamon in its proper place in the spice rack, before dashing off to grab the imaginary book that she had supposedly left in her room.

           Selina’s heart seemed about to beat out of her chest as she looked around the room (her room?) at the drawers that had her clothes and her bathroom full of the combs and products that kept her hair manageable and the little gifts and trinkets spread over the shelves from birthdays and Christmases and apologies for running off to the stupid chalet in Switzerland. It just couldn’t do. She was a street kid, a cat, not someone who could be tied down to a room with a bed and curtains and her favorite foods and her absolute favorite people. So that night she packed everything she could into her little backpack and ran away.

           Because who was she kidding? A girl like her could never have a home in a house like that.

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

           Bruce crashes with her for a week during the year the bridges were blown. She can’t remember why, but vaguely thinks it might have been because of her incident with the scalpel. He probably passed it off as giving Alfred space or helping make sure nothing went wrong with the root that was healing her spine, but she remembers a distinct sense that Bruce was waiting for her to collapse into a ball and die at any moment. And that feeling got really old, really fast. In a city like Gotham, especially during that year, oftentimes the safest places were rooftops, so Selina had snuck out of her room late one September evening and climbed onto the roof. She had sat there for no longer than 20 minutes when Bruce emerged from her window. The autumn night was mostly warm, but the wind would pick up every so often and send a chill through her body. He hadn’t been out on the roof for more than a minute or so before he slipped his jacket around her shoulders. The gesture caught her off-guard for a moment, but the past few months of her life had been nightmarish and every night felt so unreal that she chose to ignore the voices in her head screaming for her to move away because sharing your heart with someone means letting them choose if they protect it of if they break it and settled in beside the young man next to her.

           Selina was young and still didn’t have a house, but maybe houses were overrated and the right person was all that was required to make a home.

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

           Bruce leaves a few months later and it feels like he’s finally revealed that this was simply a years-long con and she had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. The manor was gone and Alfred didn’t know how to react around her and Jim was busy and Barbara had a baby and everyone seemed to think that she must know how to get ahold of Bruce because no one who really loved someone would leave without a good-bye.

           But he did.

He left without a good-bye and instead let a note that spoke of home and how she would always matter to him and have a place in his soul break her heart for him. But, she told herself, it was fine. After all, Wayne Manor was blown to smithereens and you ain’t got no home if you ain’t got no house so it didn’t matter that the person who had made her feel at home had left without saying good-bye..

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

           The manor was rebuilt by the time Selina was 20. She and Alfred had worked hard to make it as close to the original as possible. The only purposeful difference were the carpets in the study because neither could muster the strength to buy ones identical to the carpet that Selina had nearly bled out on. She spent a grand total for four days in the new manor before running away.

           Alfred may have been determined that this new house could be a home, but Selina knew it just wasn’t going to be the case.

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

           The first apartment she rents legally is with her paycheck from the Martha Wayne Foundation. She had successfully bid for a small position helping to plan events for the Foundation and while she suspects that the job was given to her solely because no one wanted to figure out if denying Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend a job in his mother’s charity would be what it took to bring him back from wherever he was off hiding, she didn’t push it. Regardless of the reason for her getting the job, Selina loved the work and loved the status and the apartment that she got as a result of her work. It had been maybe a year after Gotham was reunited with the mainland that Selina had realized that the only way she was going to be able to get the kind of scores and respect she so desperately craved from Gotham’s underworld was if she could make a space for herself in the city’s ruling class. After all, Barbara had been a socialite and Lee had married a Falcone and been respected by the entire GCPD. If Selina was going to get a fraction of the power either of them had had, she was going to need to insert herself into the kind of life Bruce had led. So that’s what she did.

           The apartment felt like proof that she could fake her way into a richer world. Gone were the days of squats and sleeping in a different bed every night. Now her apartment was painted a deep purple and had fresh flowers at all times (cornelias because the smell still made her happier than anything else) and a closet full of dresses for galas and cocktail parties and dates with men who got more money from their trust funds in a month than she had ever touched in her life. Was it home? If you had asked Selina that, she would have scoffed at you and rolled her eyes.

           After all, you can have the nicest house in the world, but if you’re faking belonging there, it will never be a home.

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

           The party was barely even starting when Bruce Wayne left and asked the valet to bring him his car. He’d only been back in Gotham for six months and parties felt even more tedious and ridiculous now than they had before he’d left for a decade. Besides, Selina had been there and he still wasn’t certain where they stood (if you had asked him where Batman and Catwoman stood in relation to each other he probably would have been able to give a more concrete answer, but even that was a big ‘probably’). So of course he should have been expecting her to be in the passenger seat of his car when he slid into it. And of course he should have been expecting to hear her soft voice casually whisper that she rents a place on Rose Avenue if he wanted to check it out.

           She doesn’t give him a chance to decline her offer and he barely manages to mind since he couldn’t have turned her down anyway. Later, after he’s explored the apartment and they’ve explored each other and refused to even consider exploring what their relationship might be like in this new reality, he asks her if she likes her new home.

           Selina scoffs in that way that he knows means he shouldn’t have bothered asking such a stupid question in the first place. “Bruce one day you’ll have to learn, just ‘cause someone has a house doesn’t mean they’ve got a home.”

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

           After the wedding reception, Bruce grabs his bride’s hand and walks her back to the mansion’s entrance, the one that they’ve been through more times than either could count. Selina couldn’t shake the feeling that walking through those grand front doors should feel different now that she was the Mrs. Wayne who would be working so hard to make the mansion feel like a home, but she didn’t. She had run through those doors as a tiny 13-year-old fleeing for her life. She had climbed through every window in the estate as a 15-year-old unsure of the new relationship unfolding before her. She had wept where the kitchen had once been as a 19-year-old who didn’t know if she was crying for the building that was gone or for the man who had left her to try and rebuild her life on her own. She had helped pick the carpets and wallpaper and artwork that still remained in the manor as a tentative 22-year-old. She had cursed and railed against the world in the east gardens as a 25-year-old learning that the Martha Wayne Foundation would lose 20% of its funding because Wayne Corporation felt it didn’t generate enough good press to deserve the money it had previously received. She had brainstormed with Bruce on the stairs of the foyer as they tried to figure out how to bring peace to their city after another attack from Jerimaiah Valeska as a 29-year-old trying to bond with her childhood friend again. She had snuck barefoot through the kitchen last night when she gave in and accepted she was too excited for her wedding to get any sleep. She had lived so much life in this giant manor that she had once thought could never hold love and peace and happiness in its vast rooms. And the new last name she had claimed didn’t make her any different from the teen who had pushed all the furniture out of the study to dance the the late Waynes’ records with their son. Her whole life, the religion that kept her going on the darkest days, all of it was built into this place.

           Bruce insists on carrying her over the threshold because the man is still as much of a sentimentalist as he was when he was a kid who brought her a snowglobe from Switzerland. As he sets her down, he looks her in the eyes and smiles, “Welcome home, Mrs. Wayne.”

           Selina, despite her efforts, can’t keep back a laugh at his endearing sincerity. “You know, Mr. Wayne, I used to say that you can’t have a home without a house, but, after thinking about it again, I think a mansion can indeed count as a house.”

           “So, you’ll call this home?”

           “I think that may just be something I can agree to.”

[shy-of-the-cool]

Jaime is a good man!

So like everybody I think, these last few days have been spent in a blur wondering what the hell happened on GOT on Sunday. It's taken a few days of venting, thinking and researching and I have to say I'm still on Jaime's side. After rewatching all of season 7 and then season 8 ep2 and 4 multiple times I can completely understand his aim.

This is a man who for years has loved only one woman, somebody he came into the world with, somebody he bore children with and somebody who ultimately brought out the arrogant, obsessive dark side of him. His entire life from the moment he was deemed Kingslayer has been a war between him wanting to be the best and most honourable man he can be in a situation that expects the very worst from him. His goal has always been his family, namely Cersei, Tyrion and his children. Keeping them safe and protected no matter what the cost...The things I do for love. The last line he muttered at the end of episode 1 season 1 and still he lives by that quest. Every atrocious, evil act he has done has had Cersei at the basis of it, to either get back to her, protect her or impress her.

We have to remember that Jaime and Cersei have been in a romantic relationship since they were young and they are both in their 40's now. That's a hell of a long time to be devoted to somebody. Now I wanted to research season 7 because I wanted to see the foreshadowing of them breaking up and obviously Jaime could see that slowly the power was overtaking Cersei and she was beginning to show signs of madness, but still through it all he remained loyal and when she announced the pregnancy and said she wanted people to know he is the father you could tell that was all he had ever wanted, but still even that moment was ruined by Cersei's viciousness. Now looking at the last episode of season 7 when Jaime leaves I wanted to work out the exact point you could see he completely gave up on Cersei. Of course he was not happy with her decision to not let him and the Lannister army go north but I don't believe that is what decided it for him. The moment when Cersei tells Jaime that she and Euron had plotted behind his back to hire the Golden Company and she planned to be his queen, you can see Jaime's heart literally break in 2. This was the woman he had given everything to, had broken oaths for, murdered for, betrayed people for and she was treating him like he was despensable. Like he was nothing, a subject that was stepping out of line. And I think that was the moment he thought, I've lost her, she is no longer my reason to die. When he threatens to leave she doesn't beg him to stay or show him any loyalty, she actually threatens to kill him for treason. I thinks that when Jaime thinks I made a pledge to go north and fight for the living and that's exactly what I'm gonna do. I think Brienne is an important factor in this as he remembers her statements to him in the dragonpit, and he wants to make her proud by honouring his pledge he made to her and the others.

To go north was ultimately a very brave decision on Jaime's part as he knew the welcome he would receive would be unkind and he would not be wanted there but still he is willing to face death to honour the pledge he made. To be an honourable man! What i don't think Jaime was prepared for when he got north was how he would feel seeing Brienne, as I stated in a previous post, s8 ep2 is basically Jaime pining over Brienne and I believe this stems from their first meeting again in his trial. You think, he has literally just left a woman he had loved for years without her showing any kind of affection or loyalty back to him, always let him take any fall he needed to for her and now here is,in a room full of judgement and Brienne has no qualms about standing up in front of those people and vouching that he is a good man, an honourable man and she would without a doubt fight beside him! She defends him knowing it puts her in a position to be ridiculed and possibly turned against but she does it. And in that moment I think he lets these buried feelings begin to surface. He admires her, he adores her, he wants to be good enough for her. He knows she would never ask him to do anything unjustly or unknightly like Cersei did. She has never judged him since sharing that bath at Harrenhal. She has respected him, as a knight and as a noble man. Throughout that entire episode he wants to be near her cause in his mind he doesn't plan on making it through that battle. He wants his last few hours spent with a woman that for a long time he has harboured feelings but because of the toxic hold Cersei had on him he could never admit it or even contemplate and still even now he doesn't want to dive in because what if he dies or worse what if she does. So they stand together in battle and fight for eachother. Not leaving each other sides for fear of not being there to save the other. But then they do survive, they make it through a battle where death is probable.

Now i also want to mention that I think for years Jaime's path in life was being prepared to die for those he loves, he puts himself in harms way numerous times to keep Cersei safe, Tyrion, Tommen, Myrcella and Brienne. He has never been afraid of dying, in fact I think in some way he hoped for it. Hoped for the torture to end, the feeling of failure, to die for a worthy cause so the world finally knew he was an honourable knight. He pledged to fight for the living and I think that's important to remember going into s8 ep4.

Now like everybody I had issues with this episode, I was so angry to begin with, what have they done to Jaime, why are they changing him, but then i watched again and again and actually i realised, they haven't, he is the same way he has always been. With Brienne, he is nervous, he feels unworthy, because all his life he has loved one woman loyally and even she threw him aside, and brienne is 100x the woman Cersei is so how could he ever be good enough, yet after the battle they both realise I think that they both long to be loved by somebody that loves them back, somebody they trust, in that moment just before they make love, Jaime looks at brienne with such awe and admiration and love quoting "I've never slept with a knight" I took that as he has never slept with anybody he deemed noble or honourable or loyal as Cersei is none of those things, and obviously Brienne has never given herself to anyone as she has never trusted anybody enough to let her guard down with but in eachother they have found missing parts of themselves and it's actually a truly beautiful moment. Too short though! And then when Jaime wakes up the next morning for the longest time I could not understand the look he had on his face, he appeared scared, and I thought why, then i realised in that moment he has found something to live for, he can see a future with Brienne, he truly loves her and she makes him happy. And that bloody terrifies him because when do Lannisters ever get happy endings! Even Tyrion can see how happy he is and not once did Tyrion ever say that about him and Cersei. Jaime even tells Brienne he will stay in Winterfell with her instead of going back to KL to help defeat his sister, that's a huge deal for him, he wants a life with Brienne.

But then of course he plummets back to earth with a bang when he finds out what Cersei has done to Dany’s Dragon and Missandei being captured and he realises, he can't just run away from this problem. I think Olenna Tyrell said it best in Season 7 when she was with Jaime during her last moments. “If she has driven you this far, it’s gone beyond your control....she’s a disease, I regret my role in spreading it...you will too” I think finally, Jaime is seeing Cersei as the disease and how he finally needs to put a stop to the spreading of it. This woman controlled him for years, manipulated him, and yet that has helped him know Cersei, know her mind, know what lengths she would go to and the people she would hurt to get what she wants. The north wouldn't be safe, KL wouldn't be safe, Brienne wouldn't be safe not while Cersei still rules. So he makes one of the hardest decisions he ever will, he pledged to fight for the living so that's what he's gonna do, when he leaves without waking Brienne that night I think it's because he literally can't bear the thought of having to saying goodbye probably for the last time. But then she comes to find him and he wasn't prepared for her reaction. Now remember Cersei never begged him to stay when he said he was leaving, nobody has ever ever begged him to stay, to ask him not to put himself in harms way to save somebody else. But Brienne does, she loves him so much the thought of him going to KL and probably sacrificing himself pains her and Jaime can see that in her eyes as she begs him to stay. Jaime didn’t see this coming, he doesn’t anticipate it and you can see in those long moments when he’s clutching her hand, he doesn’t want to go of course he wants to stay, but he knows if he tells her why he has to go to KL, she will follow, she will pledge to stay by his side no matter what, and Jaime can’t bear that, to let Cersei even have the chance of destroying Brienne is not an option. So he breaks her heart, he reminds her of he is, who Cersei has made him become, what hateful things he did to love that hateful woman. Even though this isn’t who he is now, he’s actually hoping for the fact that Brienne will think the worst of him and let him go. It’s awful because you can tell it absolutely breaks Jaime to do this, but he loves Brienne more than the idea of living happily ever after with her, her safety is all he cares about. And what I actually found quite poetic about this moment is that Tyrion had to do the exact same thing with Shae when Cersei found out about her, he had to lie and say she was nothing but a whore to break her heart in hopes she would run and get safe. I find it ironic that the two great loves in these Lannister’s lives have been destroyed because of Cersei. This is why Jaime will not return to save Cersei, or because he loves her. They came into the world together, of course he has to be there when she leaves it, they have unfinished business. But this is not the end of Jaime and Brienne. Their love story is probably one of the most important in GOT. It’s lasted over 7 seasons and I can’t see it culminating in Jaime dying, I think that would be too obvious. They have finally after all this time given him something to live for and I can’t see him not doing everything in his power to get back to the one he loves.

[edales-drabbles]

An Obedient Partner

Ghost was a legend. A 'Fixer', the guy people called to deal with problems and make them disappear. Elorshin heard stories and whispers about him in taverns along the coast. A mystery that people weren't entirely true was real.

A flicker in the light, something glinted in the firelight as the man appeared out of the gloom. Silent despite the rocks under his feet and the water dripping under down in the tunnel. He reached to wake his companions, but a sword was at his neck. The black blade pressed against his skin, not quite slicing but sharp enough that he knew the man could quickly dispatch him. He froze in place.

A finger waggled. Elorshin swallowed, just looking up at the myth. Black armour covered the man, elements of it distinctly insect hide which revealed his heritage faster than his colouring. Only one race made armour like that. The Ghost's face was half-covered by a black cloth, the upper half shadowed by a dark hood but Elorshin could see beyond it. Dusky skin, purple eyes, black hair, the Ghost was a Tenebrae Elf. Those eyes glittered as they met.  

A moment of uncertainly spaced behind them as the Ghost looked over each sleeping person around them before nodding. The sword left his neck and was stored away. Not that it meant much, Elorshin could see the dangers littering his hips, close enough that the Ghost could split his throat before he could know. Between the double blades and the daggers, Elorshin could see why his man was able to survive down here on his own.

Shifting, the ghost leaned down to pluck Elorshin's water-skin from his side. Elorshin flushed as the man took a deep drink before dropping it back on at the ground by his feet.

A hand tapped the cloth mask where his nose was before the man gone in the darkness again. Elorshin's heartbeat was practically shaking his entire body. He stood and looked around but found no traces. And that was that. When they were ready to move again, Elorshin's sight whispered to him. The threads of fate spiralled uncalled and yanked him from the present and to the past.

The sight of the Ghost slaughtering a set of monsters flashed through him. The sight of their campfire glittering far out of view. He swallowed again as one of his companions asked that the matter was. The Ghost had saved them?

It wasn't until they had found the miners and escaped back to the surface that he noticed his coin purse was gone. In its place was a stone coin with an insignia carved on it. Elorshin clutched it tightly before hiding it from view. The save had not been without a price. The Ghost collected favours, and he always called upon them later. What the Ghost thought someone like him could do was debatable. Then again, adventurers tended to end up in strange situations.

Luckily they were paid well for saving the missing miners, the new coins hidden around Elorshin's body this time. Their druid sealed the entrance to the cave to prevent anyone else going down out of curiosity. If someone wanted to mine, they would have to decide to do so.

The next time Elorshin saw the man, he was drunk. The dwarf had challenged him to a drinking contest to see how well his elven blood would stand up against stout folk. Reluctantly, he had joined. And lost, but one of the humans had been the first to fall. The world spinning and stumbling outside, Elorshin leant against the outside of the tavern and watched the night streets as the cold air hit his lungs.

"Beautiful night," a voice murmured next to him.

Elorshin flinched as a cold blade rested on his shoulder. He wasn't wearing his armour. It had been a few weeks since the last job. Over a month since he had gained the token. "Nice change of pace after the rain we've had recently," he said, words soft.

"Summer is coming," the blade moved, and a hand tugged at his elbow. Elorshin followed the hand, letting the Ghost pull him into an alleyway, not entirely sure a dagger wasn't about to gut him but knowing better than to fight. He could not see the future, but the past came willingly; flashes of what could have happened alongside side what did. Drinking always made it hard to tell what was real, but nothing was hurting, yet. "You have been drinking."

"The dwarf insisted on it," Elorshin shrugged. "The rest of them are always up for a drink."

"And you're not one for complaining," a smile unfolded on the Ghost's face. This time, there was no mask in place. His eyes were shadowed by the hood but his strong jawline was clear to see in the dim. It was an elegant thing, the distinct look of a noble elf. Elorshin flushed as the eyes did miss how he was looking at him. "Not at all," it hummed.

"I pick my battles," Elorshin sniffed, unable to stop himself averting his eyes. He could fight. He knew how to swing a punch as well as anyone who grew up in a city. Fighting against a dwarf wanting a drinking contest and an assassin pulling him into an alleyway would have about the same response. Humiliation and possibly death with a hefty side of pain, his dwarf enjoyed his ale far too much to let a 'poncy' elf spoil it.

A hand cupped his face and drew his face upwards. The look in the Ghost's eyes was interested. "You like being obedient," Ghost murmured, his other hand resting on Elorshin's chest. "You are going to answer my questions, aren't you?"

"Depends on the question?"

A blade appeared in the wood next to him. Elorshin sunk slightly but the Ghost pressed closer, forcing him to stay upright. A knowing look passed over the man's face. His fingers played with the fastening at the top of Elorshin's shirt idly. "You didn't tell your friends, did you? About our little encounter?"

"No," Elorshin nodded, wishing he hadn't drunk so much now as he tried to pay attention to the man. The man who had already robbed him once and put him in debt.

"Good boy," he grinned, gloved fingers traces a circle on his chest. Elorshin's throat was dry. He wasn't quite sure when the fastening had popped open. He could feel the heat of the man against him as close as they were. The Ghost pressed closer, a knee between Elorshin's thighs and barely an inch between their faces. "I do wish you hadn't been drinking so much," he murmured. "Tonight could have been far more interesting."

Elorshin was sure his cheeks were burning now. Elorshin, for all appearances, was an ordinary elf. Fair skinned with freckles over his cheeks which would not hide his embarrassment or possibly excitement at all. "Possibly," he breathed, wishing he look away from the entrancing purple irises.

The grin grew. "You and I both know better than that," the Ghost teased and a burst of magic pinged through him. Elorshin blinked twice, not so drunk as to not know what the Ghost had done. He had dispelled the magic on Elorshin. "As lovely as this surprise it, I'm glad my suspicions about this was correct," he noted, a thumb rubbing under Elorshin's eyes. "You're no common elf; you're an Ariolo."

"Not a good one," Elorshin admitted, glad he was barely able to keep his voice louder than a whisper. Ariolo elves were diviners, rare and highly sought after. His true heritage wasn't a secret per-say, but people expected things from him when they knew.  Ariolo were supposed to see into the future. Elorshin couldn't. So, he used magic to keep his eyes brown like a typical elf instead of the orange-yellow of an Ariolo. He dyed the tips of his hair blond but left the main body his natural green to make people think it was a fashion statement rather than something hidden. Simple things but they worked, usually.

The man tilted his head, humming softly. There was a very pleased look on his face that Elorshin hadn't tried to lie about his bloodline. Still, there were only a few ways that someone could be bad at their heritage. "Which way do you see?" The hand on his chest moved downward, opening his shirt and the knee between his legs started shifting. It was getting harder for Elorshin to focus on anything but the fire around him. 

"Backwards," Why lie? It wasn't life or death stuff. It was just what he could do, the limits of his inner eye.  

"Perfect," the Ghost beamed, teeth showing. Elven teeth weren't usually sharp. He had fangs. Elves didn't normally have fangs; someone must have sharpened them for him. Yet, it only made Elorshin heat up more. An image of them biting into his lip flashed through him. A whisper of an action not taken. Elorshin closed his eyes embarrassed as the Ghost laughed amused. He knew a few ways to teach people like him. That was unusual. Forwards was so much easier to wield against its seer. "How far back can you see?"

"If I focus? About a day, sometimes two if its in a quiet area,"

Lips pressed against his. Elorshin melted despite the chasteness of the kiss. It was a sweet thing compared to the other images flashing through Elorshin. Both untread pasts and his imagination happily providing ideas for how this man could enjoy him. Elorshin pressed up, intending to deepen it but the kiss left him cold.

"I'll find you in a few days. I have a job that requires someone of your skills. Try not to let your friends bully you into drinking too much."

And he was gone. Leaving Elorshin wanting and half undressed despite the lack of action between them. He straightened his shirt up, heading to his room. The dwarf was singing with some of the local farmers and stilled ready to go on until dawn. The human druid was asleep on her bed, still dressed. Elorshin wished dearly he had got his own room. She hadn't wanted to share with the others. It would feel wrong to deal with his itch with her sleeping just there. Exhaling, he curled on his head and let himself sleep.

Seeing backwards was not useless, but he had such a short time frame he could use. Most like him sought out in bigger cities as detectives and for the guard. He had tried that life. It hadn't worked out well for him with such a limited period. If the Ghost had a job for his skills, that meant it was a recurring thing. They would be waiting for a new occurrence.

In the morning, he'd worry about what the job was. In the morning, he'd be extremely embarrassed by the memories of the words in his ear. 'You like being obedient.' Worse yet, if the man had said it, Elorshin would have happily been obedient for him. Yet he had held back out of some sense of morals. Right now, Elorshin wished he hadn’t. In the morning, he’d be so very happy he had. But now, the itch was burning and the whispers of teeth on his skin and hands fondling sensitive areas.

Elorshin needed to get laid. If he was becoming too easy for a pretty face to get him on his knees, it had been too long.