#because at this point the absence is almost more suspect - the feeling is that somebody sants to say something

[xcziel]

a lot of people talking about jk's lack of credits on his album and it made me think

like if it's true he was being - not necessarily pressured but let's say encouraged - to make an album suitable for winning over western audiences, then it's likely he knew the songs would need a high amount of english lyrics. and it does seem as though making waves in the western market is a goal he has had in mind, not just one imposed on him by bh

but as someone who has tried learning language later in life - it's NOT easy for some. and especially if you're used to a high level of proficiency with your language use, it is really hard to have to face an inability to say exactly what you mean, the way you want to say it, in another tongue.

plus, some of us with adhd (and i know speculative diagnoses are sus but just *look* at jk ok? come on) have a hard time prioritizing tasks that don't see immediate reward or that are discouraging because we can't do them as well or as easily as we'd prefer right away

so what i speculate is that possibly one reason for jk dragging his feet on preparing his album was that his english wasn't up to his standards (because being a member of bts means that you set and are also expected to achieve very high standards indeed) for lyric writing

and obviously he could ask for help - but normally the people (person) he'd ask would be his member(s) and it's supposed to be a 'solo' project so i feel like his pride could have kicked in - he recorded other projects just fine, with enough time he surely could swing the english on his own, right? - and then it would be entirely his songs: he'd be expressing himself directly, on topics that were personal to him, and not relying on someone else to paraphrase his thoughts into english. think about how many people he'd have to run the lyrics by to make sure they really conveyed what he meant to say, not what the translator *thought* he wanted to say. and then making sure it scanned/rhymed/was in meter - it's HARD to do in another language (rm does not get enough credit)

so here he is, faced with a time limit "suddenly" (the way every deadline "suddenly" happens for those of us with the time-blindness that lets us say "i'll get to it" until eternity lol) to produce an album if he's going to - everybody else has done their chapter 2 bit, tae has been showing him his music, talking about promo, etc. - but his writing english isn't where he hoped it would be. he has music but it's hard to latch a hook on a song with no lyrics and on top of that he's mainly a singer: words and vocals are his entry point for relating to a song

for all we know he tried switching a composition of his own to english lyrics and it didn't work out to his satisfaction, who knows?

and if he did write the music, would he be comfortable just handing it over to someone else to throw words on top of? i mean, maybe if it was someone he trusted ... maybe.

but then scoot biscuit and bang pd are like here are some ready-made songs, we're sure they'll be hits - you can tweak them but you don't have to really do anything else other than perform them and you can get practice on all the other things you're worried about - planning your own choreo and styling, doing shows solo, western interviews in english, western audiences - without feeling the emotional vulnerability of having your own art and inner thoughts just out there to be judged.

and he looked at his options, and at how all the other members were accomplishing things etc and said ok. ok that's something i can try. and i can't really blame him, even if the results are not to my taste.

also i personally think, just going from subtle things in his conduct, that maybe there was an expectation that this was a way to ensure he *not* sing about things maybe that could put him under more scrutiny industry-wise. like if the songs he would write might be uhhh imprecise with the pronouns (or even scarier very precise in the 'wrong' way) leaving the meanings up to audience interpretation, sending a message that might be taken in a non-company/industry-approved way that kind of thing. that wouldn't happen with a selection of predetermined songs and collaborators that management had more control over and thus wouldn't need to worry about jk accidently (or not) scuttling the big western takeover plans.

and i don't think this is any kind of full explanation, obviously, but more just an idea of one tiny piece of something that might have affected the decisions made, something happening in the background

think about oh for example jm's letter - if jk wanted to write something like that, have something similar as part of his introduction as 'big western pop star' how nerve-wracking would it be, how careful would he have to be? to trust that what he wanted to say was actually being said? to sit on sets with clueless western show hosts and somehow discuss it in the english he does command? to listen to bh tweak and massage public perception so that no one in the western press 'gets the wrong idea'?

soo yeah, that he said ok i'm gonna do the sexy popstar thing, don't shoot the messenger lol none of this is coming from my heart except my love of performing for the fans and as bonus i'm screwing around with my innocent baby bunny image, i think that's fair

[shadyteacup]

Hello! If you’re free, I was wondering if I could have a request where 15y/o Dazai meets his future s/o which he feels comfortable around them and has good impression abt them. Like he’s wandering somewhere and suddenly run into them. They have a chitchat abt their thoughts on something and have fun talking to each other. Then leave and meet again when he joins ADA. (s/o is a weird kind of person, like out of this world)

I’m not an English speaker so sorry for my terrible English y-y. Btw, i love your writings!!💟

This is such an amazing idea! I had fun writing this! And dw, your English is spectacular ♡ Enjoy, dove!

Dazai Osamu x gn! Reader||Reader has a time traveling ability

Timeless

You were a time traveler. Your ability allowed you to visit places from different timelines. The only drawback was that you aged no matter where you were, even if you were using your ability. This meant that if you wanted to enjoy the present, you had to ensure that you didn't spend much time in the past. You couldn't visit the future.

But that was okay. You loved finding out the root of all problems. That's why you joined the ada. Your ability helped them to identify who the perpetrator was. You would travel in the past and be there at the crime scene at the right time. Then you'd come back and reveal important information like the hiding place of the murder weapon, or if they had been looking at the wrong suspect all along.

You were currently investigating the death of a businessman. His body had turned up near the docks. It was highly decomposed, and probably atleast 2 years dead. You decided to travel 2 years into the past, and made your way to the docks. While searching for the potential crime scene, you bumped into someone. A mop of brown hair stood a few steps ahead of you. The boy wore bandages all over his arms and neck, and had an eye covered. Judging by the absence of any outline of his eye on the bandage that covered it, and the lack of moisture, his eye probably wasn't injured at all. He was probably only wearing bandages to appear weak. But this was just an assumption on your part.

"Ah, I'm so sorry, boy. I didn't see you there!"

He looked at you with a dead look in his eye, then gave you the fakest smile to ever exist.

"It's alright. May I ask what you are doing at a place like this?"

You were taken aback by his cold demeanor. It reminded you a lot of your own self.

"I'm here to investigate a death."

You said. His eyes darkened at your words.

"You see, the body will be discovered two years later. No tangible evidence will be recovered, then. So I must find something useful here, now."

The boy smirked.

"Time traveling ability?"

You smiled.

"Yup."

His smirk dropped and he glared at you.

"I see. This is a dangerous adventure, dear. You might get caught in a string of trouble, one that might lead you to harm."

The boy's aura and dark look had made you suspicious about his employers, but now you were certain that he worked for the mafia.

"Don't worry. I'm pretty positive that the murder wasn't committed by someone from the mafia."

His surprise was momentary, but obvious. It caught your eye.

"Before you ask, no, I don't know your future self. Also, the method of the crime doesn't match the mafia's M.O."

He nodded, thinking.

"Well in that case, I don't think you and I should be enemies."

He chirped, a happy look on his face.

You were taken aback by the sudden change in his mood.

"Sure, kid."

You said, patting his shoulder and walking away, trying to find the crime scene. The area was littered with compartments and shipment goods. It all looked so similar, almost like a maze.

"Hey, kiddo, can you lend me a hand?"

He blinked in confusion.

"Um. Sure."

He was confused as to why you weren't afraid of him. You clearly knew he was from the mafia, but you still acted so casually around him. It made him think that you either represented somebody powerful, or worked for an influential employer.

You rummaged through your pocket, trying to find the picture. Handing him the the snap of the crime scene, you observed him as he peered into the paper.

"This way."

He said, walking between two cargo containers, and leading the way.

"I never got your name, boy."

He shrugged, peering at you over his shoulder.

"Does it really matter?"

You mimicked him, raising your shoulders in a lazy shrug.

"Maybe, maybe not. But I'd like to call you something other than 'boy'."

He hummed in thought.

"How about 'knight in shining armour'?"

You scoffed.

"I get the whole 'I'm helping you, so I'm a knight' thing, but I'm no damsel in distress."

He smirked.

"Oh? And what if I were to abandon you here? What would you do?"

You smirked.

"I'd find my way on my own. I don't need you, eye-patch."

He grinned at you smugly, stopping in his tracks and moving towards you. He leaned in, his face almost touching yours.

"And what if I were to overpower you, hmm? What would you do then?"

You shuffled closer to him, much to his surprise. You whispered near his ear.

"I'll ensure that you'll never be able to have kids."

Pushing him back, you snatched the picture from his palm, and continued searching for the location. He was astonished at your bravery. He always comes across as intimidating, and that was putting it mildly. You were very courageous.

Following you like a lost puppy, he watched you hide behind a bunch of wooden crates.

You patted the space next to you, beckoning him to sit there.

"The show's about to start, eye-patch."

You took out your camera and were ready to click.

That's when two men, clad in expensive suits walked over. One of them was explaining something to the other.

You began clicking a few snaps.

The guy who was observing, turned his back on the other for a second. That's when he brandished his knife and plunged it into the other's back. You were furiously tapping away on the camera's button, determined to get every detail of proof.

The victim suffered atleast 50 stabwounds, 53 to be exact, when the killer decided to stop and hide the body. You snapped every single second of the ordeal.

When the killer left the crime scene, the two of you got up, and dusted your clothes.

"Do you have any plans after this?"

He asked you.

"Well, not really. I was planning to grab a drink, maybe something to eat, before heading back."

You said.

"Or heading 'ahead', since I'm going to the future. I don't even know."

Dazai nodded his head.

"How about I treat you to a drink?"

You eye him suspiciously.

"I have no reason to harm you. You literally don't belong here, so I've got no reason to hurt you."

You hum in acknowledgement.

"Okay then. Lead the way."

....

"How old are you?"

He asked, swirling his drink in his glass.

"A few years older than you."

"Cryptic."

"Intrusive."

"Touche."

"You have so many questions, don't you, eye-patch. "

Dazai hummed, taking a sip.

"Consider me intruiged by your... ability."

He turned in his bar stool to face you.

"Why didn't you prevent it from happening?"

"Because if I break the flow of time, or even mess with it, everything will go haywire."

"And if you were able to prevent it, without disrupting the flow of time, would you have intervened?"

You gaze at your own glass.

"I would do some heavy research before I make my decision."

Dazai was curious. Did you not want to save people?

"Everybody has a reason for murder. Nobody wakes up one day and decides to kill someone. I'll dig into their lives and find out why the killer did it. And I'll decide whether or not preventing the murder would save an innocent life, or harm many others in the future."

"So, in short, you intend to play God."

You chuckled.

"If given the power, who in their right mind would turn down the offer? Everybody wants to play God. Our entire society is built that way. The one who has more money, more power, more influence, has the right to play God to those beneath them."

Dazai found you very interesting. The way you viewed the world was so unique. You were a textbook 'good person' but could easily become the 'bad guy' if given the resources. Good or bad doesn't really matter to him, he finds the difference between the two very confusing.

"Doesn't that make you, and everybody who has power, a "bad" person?"

You chuckled.

"Funny coming from a mafioso."

Downing the rest of your drink, you answer his question.

"The distinction between good and bad is so distorted. The same set of actions can be termed as good for certain circumstances, and bad for others. The villain is always the hero when you try to see the world through his shoes, and the hero is always the villain for those supporting the so called 'bad guy' ."

"I agree. I don't care about what's 'good' or 'bad' ,either."

"Then what do you follow?"

"What do you mean?"

"There must be some set of rules that you abide by. What are they?"

"I.. Don't have any. I'm a free bird!"

You tap your chin in thought.

"One must have something to fall back on when they don't know what to do. Something to blindly follow. For example, I follow a set of rules created by my morals and values. When I don't  know how to proceed, I remember them and act accordingly. "

Dazai observed you as you spoke, absorbing every single syllable that floated out if your luscious lips. He was attracted towards opinionated, strong and focused people. He adores the look on people's faces when they speek about their passions, and express their opinions on matters. Even if he disagreed with them, the fact that they have a strong reasoning behind their actions, and the way they calmly portray their points so skillfully, makes him like them more.

The way you were effortlessly articulating your inner thoughts was something that he was fascinated by. He had so much going on inside, so much turmoil, that it was impossible for him to express it out in words. But you seem to be so sorted and disciplined. He loved that about you.

"You'll get there someday, eye-patch. Don't worry. "

You comforted, smiling at the young man.

He smiled back at you. For the first time that day, he had given you a genuine smile.

"You should smile more. It suits you."

He blushed at your words. It was a weird feeling for him. He didn't understand why his face was heating up, or why his ears felt like they were on fire.

Flicking your wrist to check the time, you sighed.

"Well, time to leave."

Dazai held your wrist as you were about to get up.

"Wait!"

You looked at him quizzically.

"Will we meet again?"

You tilted your head and smiled at him.

" I can't say for sure, but I do hope that we do."

With that, he watched you walk out of the bar. He only respected Odasaku. But now, he respected you, too.

....

Time skip to a few weeks later.

....

"L/N san, please get yourself together, we're expecting a new member to join us, soon."

You laid on the couch of the ada as Kunikida rambled on about how everyone must be in their best behavior to greet their newest member. Yosano was handling most of it, so Ranpo and you had no work to do.

"Yes, yes, Doppo. Also, it's Y/N."

You said, stretching your arms above your head.

"Y/N kun, you need to try this new type of cookie. It has two different flavors!"

Ranpo said, offering you a cookie from his bag.

You smile at him, accepting it.

"Yum!"

"I know, right!"

"Ranpo san, Y/N san! Please come here! Our newest member has arrived!"

Both of you lazily got up and strolled over to the front of the office.

"What is the big deal, Doppo-"

You stopped mid sentence when you saw the person standing at the doorway.

"Eye-patch!"

Dazai's eyes widened when he saw you, the one person who had managed to intruige him other than his deceased friend, standing in the office. The office where he was to work at, today onwards.

"Damsel!"

He said, pointing at you.

You scoffed at his choice of nickname.

"Ha! I knew your eye was fine!"

"Do you both know each other?"

Kunikida asked.

"Ofcourse they do. They met a long time ago, right, Dazai?"

Ranpk said, muching on his sweets. Ofcourse, he figured it out.

"Well, not that long ago for me."

You smiled.

Dazai had finally met you. He was elated.

"I'm glad we met again."

"Don't worry, eye-patch, we have a lot of time to catch up. ;)"

[loquaciousquark]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E111 (Redux! Oct. 13, 2020)

Gooooood evening good evening good evening, all! I started the VOD late for this recap and somehow the first four or so minutes of the show have a Twitch audio copyright claim, so I am reduced to only reading Brian's lips when he asks if we're on the internet. Hilariously, Marisha's background room is a comfy-looking blue/gold fabric wall with a ceramic colorful abstract lamp and a yellow silk scarf over the lampshade, and Taliesin's is an industrial looking games room in grey and black with multiple monitors, overhead speakers, and mysterious metal fixtures behind him. What a treasure this group is, honestly.

Tonight's guests: Marisha Ray & Taliesin Jaffe, discussing episodes 110 and 111 again. I wildly speculate once more about what might have caused their absence: jury duty? Sam appearing on The Masked Singer? Something to do with the animated show? One day, we’ll know, one day... (One day this “copyrighted audio” section will come back from the wars, too. Ugh!) Finally! The audio comes back to reveal Brian discussing the endless reality of digital meetings and Marisha talking about (I think) her glare-reducing glasses she’s wearing. Welcome to the New Age (welcome to the New Age, to the New Age).

Announcements: Marisha suggests checking out Dimension20, another live tabletop gaming group, which premieres live on Wednesdays at 4pm (CollegeHumor). 

Brian immediately wants to know how they feel about the revelation that Molly is alive. Taliesin’s personal reaction: he “knows some things” he can’t talk about and is aware of several possibilities that might be going on, but had a sneaking suspicion that there would not be a body for them to find. He says it’s almost all there for anyone to see in past material. Marisha’s personal reaction: she just wants to know how she’s doing with her theories, & was trying to block Tal’s face out deliberately as she was going off on her theories in the last episode. Taliesin says he thought her ideas were pretty good!

Cad has no clue what to think - it’s like listening to your friends talk about Buffy. Marisha thought it was a 50/50 Molly would still be there, but Beau had no idea. Not that it mattered, because as soon as Matt went through with it the reveal still blew their minds. Tal laid out his plans for the character with Matt during Campaign One (towards the end) after they all got their VM tattoos.

It is a “horrifying and gross” thing to dig up a body, and Beau was pretty reluctant to do it. Tal, as Cad: “Sometimes dead’s better.” The moral quandary of trying to speak with a dead friend was very different here than the frequent occasions they used the spell in C1.

Taliesin says his poker face is very bad, so it’s easier for him to over-react and let it all play out. The only other player he can see very easily from his place in their current setup is Travis, and because he knows Travis doesn’t watch TM, tweet, or participate in social media, he admits he thoroughly enjoyed watching Travis freak out at his freaking out. He says he only knew about 20% of what Matt described at the end of that episode. He was picking things to mug to increase Travis’s surprise. I love this so much.

Taliesin provided the table left leg shake; Travis provided table right. Ha!

Beau is really accepting her role in the Cobalt Soul. It’s good when “as a person, you feel like you can settle into your calling. Sometimes you can do more from the inside than fighting from the outside.” It’s a mirrored but opposite path of Keyleth from C1; Beau felt like she was too good for her duty, while Keyleth thought she wasn’t good enough.

Caduceus is not a big believer in jumping to conclusions. He does have an idea/notion of the “city of the undead” and thinks all this necrotic energy must come from somewhere, and wonders if this is the “capital of anti-death.” He’s willing to believe whatever he sees. This is one of the few things that trigger a bit of loathing and disgust in him. It was terrifying that the Wildmother didn’t know anything.

Beau is pretty confident in her Charlie Day impression laying-out-the-research last episode. She enjoyed taking the things that were known & extrapolating around them; this is a huge facet of Marisha’s own personality and she really enjoys it, so she built a character this time that would allow that kind of puzzle-solving. It’s also why she repeatedly notes when Beau journals, so she can avoid metagaming. Trent’s mention of Vess Durogna’s tomb raiding was completely circumstantial, and the only reason she’d made the connection to the Tombtakers was because she’d recently reviewed those notes for a separate unannounced project. Sometimes she tries to make connections and Matt is like, “It was...just descriptive. Just flavor. The curtains were red...” and she has to discard a paragraph of notes. She feels like it’s still something they have to do because of “look at what he does! Look! It’s totally valid!”

Cosplay of the Week: @kitsunstudios with a gorgeous Caduceus with a very intricate silk vest.

Caduceus’s takedown of Trent! One of my favorite moments in the entirety of C2. Taliesin felt Trent was an asshole; Caduceus felt sorry for him because of how dumb he thought he was. Caduceus’s response was "this is the dumbest man I’ve ever met in my life. He’s so dumb! Is nobody going to tell this guy how dumb he is? Oh, they’re all freaked out. Somebody needs to tell this guy he’s an idiot before somebody gets hurt.” (Marisha: “Before?”) Tal says it was the product of several years of therapy and many drunk conversations with Whitney Moore. It was from a genuine place of concern from Caduceus. “How are you allowed to have this much power and be that dumb?”

Brian loved how funny it was to watch everyone tiptoe around Trent and then Caduceus bulldoze through the end of the meal.

Taliesin: “Damage doesn’t make you interesting or better. It’s not what makes you good. Character isn’t found in damage. Just recovery.”

Brian & Marisha commiserate going through the stage where believing surviving something automatically made you a stronger person, better for the pain; instead it just meant you had to pick up the pieces after. Marisha talks about how strength through survival may be true for some people, but it shouldn’t be considered a necessity. Taliesin talks about how he used to think he had to be miserable to write. Brian talks about how believing he liked reading and writing miserable things only limited him for years.

Marisha feels it’s a C2 theme that almost all the PCs have someone trying to handwave or take credit for their accomplishments or explain their pain as being for their own good (Trent, Beau’s dad, Obann). She thinks it’s interesting to see all the various ways people try to take credit for your work/delegitimize you as a person. She loves that RPGs allow you to explore these odd moralities in interesting ways. The only way to fight it is to have a sense of your own self-worth, which is a problem a lot of the M9 started with.

Caduceus likes everyone, and really likes people who appear to need role models (Eodwulf). “With the right friends and the right bar and the right attitude, I think he’d be okay. Come over here where it’s so much better. That seems like an exhausting friendship that you have there.”

Marisha loves the mix of personalities in the M9; Veth, Cad, & Jester were all “we kind of like them!” after the dinner, and she immediately made eye contact with Travis and they both shook their heads. She knows Beau has to go along with it for Caleb’s sake for now, but she & Fjord are pretty sus of Trent’s proteges.

Beau is less concerned about Artagan’s relationship to Jester because “he showed his ass--she’s less worried about Jester now because a little of the magic is gone.” It’s a little like becoming an adult and realizing your parents are also just adults & human. Caduceus wasn’t suspicious of the Traveler for a long time until they got to the island. Aside: Taliesin loves the pantheon in D&D. “The notion of attempting to apply common Western conceptions of religion to a world where you have a pantheon of interventionist gods as baseline makes no sense to me. Everyone admits that every other god is there and doing shit; it has more in common with ancient Rome than anything else.” Now that he knows it was a con, he feels the wind had been taken out of it. He does have a sense that Jester’s gotten back together with an ex: “I hope that I’m really happy for you.” They’re both interested to see how Jester navigates the new relationship.

My internet goes out, of course. I panic for a second, thinking I’ve lost everything above, but all is well! Thanks, Form History Control addon!

Marisha loved punching Artagan, but regretting rolling so poorly. “I miss violence.” Dani lets us know it’s been about four episodes since the last battle.

There’s no way the Cobalt Reserve doesn’t have a single document on the Eyes of Nine. Beau believes “there are no real secrets” because people are just bad at not writing things down. For there to be no information at all seems really suspicious for her.

Fanart of the Week: @oddalchemist on twitter with some awesome Beau conspiracy red-thread boards overlaid a distant shadowy Molly walking away.

Caduceus feels a little guilty for really enjoying his time right now with the M9 and not wanting to go home. He’s starting to suspect that he’s going to go home very different than when he left. “He has the softest problems. I don’t know if I want to move back in with Mom & Dad.”

Beau is trying to get comfortable with the idea of being happy. Jester is probably Beau’s first real best friend & one of the first healthy female friendships she’s ever had. As long as she still has Jester in her life, she doesn’t care. For Yasha... “At the end of the day, Beau is a lonely person and has always been a lonely person. And I think you kinda reach this point where once you’re not lonely anymore, you can kind of come out of the fog and realize that was horrible! And terrifying! And is even more terrifying now that I know what I could have, and I don’t want to go back to that. At the end of the day Beau doesn’t want to be lonely anymore. There’s always been that flirtation with Yasha, but everyone had to figure their own shit out. And now it feels like it’s coming out a little bit of that haze, maybe this actually could be...” There are a lot of ways they complement each other & are good-different from each other. Marisha believes people can be attracted to more than person at once.

Caduceus doesn’t think nature turned against him on Rumblecusp, it was just a reality of nature being dangerous and violent. “He has a complex relationship with nature.” He doesn’t expect special treatment.

Thoughts on the mansion: “Man, it’s nice to be seen.” Marisha: “I don’t know how I ended up becoming the Scanlan of this campaign, but I’m living for it.” It felt like an echo of “I’m better for having known you.” They compare Marisha taking specific notes on the campaign to Liam taking specific notes on people’s favorite tapestries, comics, etc.

They talk about missing theme parks and daydream a park version of the mansion in CritRoleLand. It’s lovely.

Taliesin never expected Divine Intervention to work; he just wanted to roll some dice. He’s still processing what he saw/heard. They all agree it was very useful in the Vokodo fight.

Vilya! Marisha: “Ah! Ah! Ah!” As a player, Marisha was so deep in Beau’s eyes she didn’t pick up it was Vilya at first (especially since Matt really emphasized they should not be looking for C1 NPCs). Marisha’s brain melted. She bawled her eyes out on the ride home after that episode. Right after it ended, Laura told Marisha “Keyleth finally gets her happy ending,” and it makes Marisha emotional again since Keyleth’s story ended so bittersweetly. She talks about the very real feelings of “just wanting them to be happy, though!” She went back and listened to all her old Keyleth playlists. Everyone was teary after the episode. “Everyone has these 100% real memories of being these characters and having these good times.”

And that’s that for that! Thanks for your patience, all, and is it Thursday yet?

[jackoshadows]

Stark Sibling reunions.

So there was some discussion on this in another forum and I thought I would jot down some of my long rambling speculations on which siblings will meet up and reunite first in the next book.

Jon and Rickon

Up north, I think there is a very strong chance that Jon and Rickon will be the first Starks to meet each other again. GRRM has stressed a couple of times that he has important things planned for Rickon, Davos has gone to Skagos to fetch him, Rickon has the backing of the most powerful Northern house in Manderly and in Bran’s absence, Rickon is Lord of Winterfell.

We know that GRRM is writing Rickon for the next book. He has mentioned how his Osha is becoming more similar to Natalie Tena’s version on the show. He has outright stated that Rickon will be in the next book. And how the books are different to the show because Rickon is still alive in the books.

Now, two things about the battle against the Boltons:

1. There will be a different Stark Vs Boltons battle in the next book. We have this note from GRRM:

Speaking of which: Martin leaves a little note for the producers when writing about Ramsay’s flesh-eating hounds, whom we see hunting down a girl for sport.

[N.B. A note for future reference. A season or two down the line Ramsay’s pack of wolfhounds are going to be sent against the Stark direwolves, so we should build up the dogs as much as possible in this and subsequent episodes.]

https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2018/12/game-of-thrones-george-rr-martin-last-script-the-lion-and-the-rose

Notice the plural - as in direwolves, not direwolf. And the only two Starks with direwolves currently in the North are Jon and Rickon. We may see Jon come down from the Wall with a Wildling army and the North rallying behind Rickon and they combine forces to attack the Boltons. If Stannis is still alive and has an army at this point, it could be that everyone else joins him in battle.

Rickon could travel to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea which is closest to Skagos, or White Harbor or to Stannis’ camp. Either way, Jon and Rickon are now the closest siblings and have maximum potential to reunite since their plots look to be colliding soon as well.

2. Theon will be important to the resolution of the Bolton storyline.

What inspired him to create Ramsay Snow? GRRM said, and I quote, that he needed something “to bite Theon in the ass”. Ramsay was created for Theon’s storyline, and he is first presented as a prisoner and a servant and then rises to a high position while Theon becomes his prisoner and servant.

https://www.reddit.com/r/asoiaf/comments/6uwfb0/spoilers_extended_notestranslation_of_grrm_qa_in/

Theon is currently with Stannis who is preparing for battle against the Boltons. I doubt his story ends there - without meeting up again with either Bran or Jon. We know Bran is trying to communicate with Theon through the Weirwoods and Theon feels an immense guilt for what he did to Bran and Rickon. Jon and Theon have a lot of parallels and some of the same identity issues.

It’s possible therefore that Theon survives the battle of Ice with Stannis Vs Boltons to meet up with Jon and Rickon for the later battle of the bastards.

Arya

Lets examine Arya’s travel options from Braavos:

1. There’s plot and route that can take her to the North via Justin Massey and Jeyne Poole. The prevailing speculation being that once Massey lands in Braavos along with Jeyne, the real Arya meets up with fake Arya and decides to leave behind the FM and travel to the wall to take down some mutineers.

I think that plotwise for Arya’s character this makes sense. She has pretty much finished her FM training - time for plot progression and for her to move on to the North and get mixed up in both the political shenanigans and the army of the dead plot.

And if she does go North, she will finally reunite with Jon Snow - something she’s been trying to do since book one.

But there are some issues with Justin Massey getting to Braavos. In the first place, winter and storms have come to the North making travel hard. And in the second, Massey needs Stannis’ ships at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea to travel to Braavos - those ships are currently being overwhelmed by both storms and wights at Hardhome. So without transport, it’s hard to see how Massey gets to Braavos and Jeyne meets Arya.

It’s also possible that Arya just hears about what is happening in the North, gets on a ship and sails to White Harbor. She could meet up with Rickon and Jon that way.

But if Arya is not going North, where will she go to?

Travel-wise it would be easier for her to sail to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea or the port at White Harbor - traveling for a single person is always easy and Arya is an old hand at this.

But there is also speculation that Arya will travel to the Riverlands and meet up with her mother, Lady Stoneheart and the Brotherhood without Banners again. I am not fond of this theory, since in my opinion it will be once again a retread of her Riverlands story in books 2/3.  She’s done with that part of Westeros. Yes, she did see her dead mother be dragged out of the water and a resolution and closure with her mother would be nice, but I am not sure how Arya in the Riverlands will progress the plot.

So if Arya does manage to reach the Riverlands and Lady Stoneheart, is there a sibling that she will meet up with?

Sansa

Let’s take a look at Sansa.

Sansa is busy in the Eyrie, embroiled in LF’s plot to snare Harry the Heir. Winter has come to the Vale and it’s pretty much snowed in. So it may very well be Sansa’s plot is limited to the game playing and political goings on in the Vale. If Sansa does indeed step outside the Vale, the logical place that she can travel to is the Riverlands.

I have often seen it argued (By a certain section of fans) that Arya’s story is in the Riverlands because she is just as revenge obsessed as Lady Stoneheart and her story is about giving up revenge while Sansa will travel North and reunite with Jon and win battles and become Lady of Winterfell.  But in actuality, Sansa is far closer to the Riverlands (Much closer and easier for Sansa to get to the Riverlands than Arya) and has actual plot reasons to be there.

What plot reasons? So a recent thread on asoiaf reddit brought up a 2012 comment from GRRM on Littlefinger:

That said, back in 2002, here's what a fan recounted with George:

Who is over lord of the Riverlands? (Since the Freys have Riverrun yet Littlefinger was named Lord Paramount). George says that Littlefinger is the Lord of the Riverlands but that he is going to run into trouble. I commented that Littlefinger is really powerful now that he has the Riverlands and supposed control of the Eyrie. GRRM laughed and said that I need to remember that for all his power Littlefinger has no army. (I thought that was interesting). GRRM also commented that (I forget which Frey, Emmon?) the Frey given Riverrun really wants to be Lord of the Riverlands and has dreams of having his father be his vassel. (I thought that was interesting also)

https://www.reddit.com/r/asoiaf/comments/itw5wd/spoilers_extended_a_deeper_look_at_three/

So it looks like Littlefinger is going to run into trouble in the Riverlands - where LadyStoneheart and the brotherhood  have set up their base - and it looks like the Freys want control. All LF needs to assert his authority is a Vale army. The Lannisters are pretty much done in the Riverlands, the Blackfish is still around and Edmure is a prisoner.

LF could get support in the Riverlands with Sansa - a Tully. Remember LF, his vale army and Sansa being responsible for defeating the Boltons and avenging the red wedding on the show? What if we get LF, Sansa and his vale army taking on and getting rid of Walder Frey, avenging the Red Wedding and winning favor in the Riverlands and the North that way?

I suspect that Lady Stoneheart is a part of the Vale/LF plot in the books and that’s why it disappeared on the show with the rest of the Vale while D&D combined plots and transferred LF and Sansa to the North to take on the Boltons.

I think a LF/Lady Stoneheart confrontation will be very interesting and possible - given their history and given LF’s current infatuation with Sansa. We have this from GRRM:

 My Littlefinger would have never turned Sansa over to Ramsay. Never. He’s obsessed with her. Half the time he thinks she’s the daughter he never had—that he wishes he had, if he’d married Catelyn. And half the time he thinks she is Catelyn, and he wants her for himself. He’s not going to give her to somebody who would do bad things to her. That’s going to be very different in the books.

LF, Sansa and Lady Stoneheart meeting again is almost certain in my opinion.

So if Arya is heading down south to the Riverlands for closure with her mother and if Sansa is heading there with LF to help solve his Riverland issues, is it possible for them to meet up? Will we get a Sansa-Arya reunion in the Riverlands? Remember, GRRM has assured us that these two will meet again and have ‘deep issues to work out’. Maybe this happens in the Riverlands with Sansa and Arya and Lady Stoneheart?

Anyways, if Sansa is uniting with a sibling it’s most probably going to be Arya. Everyone else is far up North and currently Arya is the only sibling truly free to move around to any destination. Will Sansa go North? Hell No.

Jonsa Stans think that Sansa is somehow going to travel all alone, all the way from the Eyrie to the Wall in harsh snowstorms.

Which, lol. By the time Sansa gets there, the books will probably be over and everyone would be chilling in Winterfell.

No army is currently getting North with the snowstorms. The Vale doesn’t even have a fleet to sail to White harbor from the Sisters. Littlefinger would have to hire a fleet from Essos and from Dany’s predicaments there we know how hard this is. After sailing to White Harbor, the Vale army would then have to march 400 miles to Winterfell in harsh snows that have stalled Stannis’ army and covered the walls of Winterfell.

Can Sansa, by herself, escape, catch a ship and sail from the Sisters to White Harbor? Possible, if she can get down the Eyrie, get to the Sisters and get a ride aboard a ship. I can’t see Sansa doing al; this. Plus, I still think with LF in the Vale and Riverlands, there is still a lot of plot for her down south. Plus, LF likely will clash with Varys as well:

Littlefinger and Varys are adversaries, both know a lot about the others' plans, so they're at a stalemate. LF knows more about Varys's motives than Varys does about LF

https://www.reddit.com/r/asoiaf/comments/5g7vef/spoilers_extended_grrms_second_talk_at_the/

---------------------------------------------

So  we have Jon and Rickon reuniting in the North and Arya and Sansa maybe reuniting in the South if Arya travels to the Riverlands instead of the North.

As for Bran? I think he will be busy exploring the Lands of Always Winter and learning more about the Others in the next book. No reunions for him yet. I think he will meet up with his siblings in the last book.

[onwardintolight]

Han x Leia, ESB, Trip to Bespin, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Summary: ESB from Leia's POV. A journey from despair to hope, a blossoming, an opening to vulnerability and love.

Warnings: Deals with some heavy themes, incl. working through trauma, depression, self-harm, attempted sexual assault. Each chapter will be individually warned.

Note: I’m currently in the process of reposting the first nine chapters here in full, since when I first wrote this fic, I only shared links to the chapters on AO3 and FFN. I will try to post at least weekly. In the meantime, if you’d prefer to binge-read it, the entire fic is posted in full on AO3 and FFN.

Part: Masterlist | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | Epilogue

Soundtrack

~~~

Author’s note 11/2019: Major spoilers for Solo: A Star Wars Story

Warnings for chapter: none

~~~

It was a relief to relax again; to simply enjoy the feel of each other’s lips and hands on each other for a little while, there in the circuitry bay. Leia tried hard to quiet her worries, and for a moment, she almost succeeded.

That moment was soon interrupted, however. Chewie stuck his head in the door, braying something about it being time for food, with an addendum about how it would be great if they pursued their mating rituals somewhere outside of his sight and hearing.

«Besides,» he noted, «I’ve prepared something special.»

Duly chastised, they made their way to the dejarik table. Emotionally, Leia felt as though she’d just flown through some particularly rough in-air turbulence, and she wasn’t that hungry—at least, not until she caught the scent of whatever was in the bowl Chewie was carrying in. He deposited it on the table in front of them with a flourish.

“What’s this?” she asked.

Instead of answering, he disappeared again to the corner of the hold, quickly returning with a large plate of ration sticks and reconstituted Bilbringi pies.

«A feast,» he announced. «I made a sauce to go with the rations. It will make us feel like our feet are rooted to the ground again.» He passed out bowls and utensils, and the three of them eagerly dug in.

Leia dipped a spoon into her sauce-covered Bilbringi pie and lifted it for a taste. Immediately, she closed her eyes, savoring the rich, spicy flavor. “How in the galaxy did you manage this, Chewie?” she asked.

Han cut in between bites. “Oh, he always keeps a bunch of spices and stuff around, just in case.”

«One never knows when they’ll be stuck onboard for three weeks,» explained Chewie. «It’s good to—» here he made a series of sounds Leia wasn’t familiar with, and she looked at Han inquisitively.

“He means it’s nice to have something special to break up the routine.”

“I’ll say,” she replied, taking another bite. It wasn’t just the weeks on the ship; it was the endless cold rations on Hoth, too. When had she last had a proper meal? Ord Mantell, maybe? “Honestly, Chewie,” she said, “this is as good as any royal feast I can remember.”

After their stomachs were suitably stuffed—Leia had only found two Wookiee hairs in her bowl, and the last bite was every bit as mouthwateringly delicious as the first—Han turned on some music and conjured up a sabacc deck and a handful of Corellian ales. Soon the hold rang with laughter. Leia had generally been too caught up in her duties to play the game much, but Han and Chewie, while fiercely competitive towards each other, were rather generous teachers. Soon she was holding her own—which for now, she surmised, meant not losing every hand. She suspected Han was going easy on them.

After a long time the music quieted, the album having played through twice already.

“And… Pure Sabacc.” Han layed out his hand triumphantly. Chewie bellowed, waving his arms in frustration. Leia laid out her cards in defeat—she’d had a good hand this round, but at twenty-one points, it wasn’t nearly enough. She briefly thanked the old gods that they weren’t playing for a sabacc pot; otherwise she might have just lost… a lot.

“You’re watching a master at work,” Han crowed, tipping back his second Corellian ale, and Leia and Chewie both rolled their eyes.

She took a small sip of her own drink. “Where did you learn to play sabacc, Han?”

“Oh… around.” He waved dismissively.

«Han was already a master of it when we met, and he was barely more than a cub in human years, then.»

“So… you learned it on Corellia?”

Han shrugged. “We may have been scrumrats, but we were still kids. It was one of the few ways we had fun.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Do you ever miss your home planet?” Leia asked.

“No,” Han said firmly. There was no hesitation in his voice.

Leia nodded. She leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand, and thought for a moment. She needed to tread this conversation carefully—considering the lightheartedness of the evening and the alcohol Han had consumed, she suspected he might be a little more open than usual to talking, but she still didn’t want to push too hard. “When you finally escaped… how did it feel? Did you feel free, or was it bittersweet?”

Han and Chewie exchanged a brief look. Then Han leaned back in the seat, raking his fingers through his hair. “Uh,” he muttered. “It’s… complicated.”

She nodded, giving him space to go on if he wanted to. After another mouthful of his ale, he did.

“So, uh, there was this girl.”

Leia stiffened a little, but she just as quickly relaxed again. Of course there was a girl, she told herself. There’d been multiple girls; she was already well aware of that. Don’t be silly; listen. She didn’t want to miss out on this part of his story just because of some childish sort of jealousy.

“We tried to escape together,” he continued. “But… I made it; she didn’t. They grabbed her right as we went through the gate at the spaceport, and I couldn’t do a damn thing.” He shrugged. “I spent the next three years in the Imperial Navy planning out how I was gonna buy my own ship and go back to Corellia. To find her. So yeah, as much as I hated Corellia, you wouldn’t’ve believed it back then.”

“Did you do it? Did you go back and find her?”

He took another sip. “Didn’t have to. Turns out, she was sold right after I left—to Crimson Dawn.”

Leia’s breath caught in her throat.

“She was owned by one of the syndicate’s head honchos,” Han continued, “and somehow she managed to work her way up to being his lieutenant. We ran into each other on my first job after the Empire. Chewie n’ I were with a crew doing a job for Crimson Dawn, and she came with us to Kessel.” He face lit up in a grin. “The trip where I made the run—”

“In less than twelve parsecs. We know,” Leia said, rolling her eyes. “So what happened to her? Did she ever get free?”

“She… no, she didn’t. At least I don’t think so. I, uh, thought, at the end, that we had won, and that she was gonna come away with me and Chewie. She killed the guy who owned her. But… I guess she had other ideas.”

Leia frowned, feeling the glimmer of deep pain in Han’s past. “She took his place,” she said, the realization coming as she said the words. She wondered if this girl was still alive… and if she was still at the head of the notorious cartel.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Eh, it was a long time ago. I was a kid, naïve. She’d always been like that; a survivor, a climber. In it for herself, no matter what—or who—was in her way.” His words, even after all these years, sounded bitter.

Leia raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like somebody I once thought I knew.”

Han ignored her comment. “It wouldn’t’ve worked out.”

«Hmm. It wouldn’t have,» Chewie agreed. «But Han was sad for a long time.»

“Thanks, fuzzball,” he retorted. “It’s not like nobody ever broke your heart.”

Chewie chuckled. «There was a young Wookiee before Malla,» he explained, turning to Leia. «I was also sad for a long time when we ended the hunt.» He paused. «These things are hard. But when you meet the right person, the sadness of the past seems very small next to the happiness you’ve found.»

With that, Chewbacca stretched and rose from the dejarik table. «I’m going to leave you two to continue your mating ritual. Just stay away from the number three hold.»

Leia blushed. “Chewie, it’s not—we’re not—”

The Wookiee only laughed, eyes twinkling. «Goodnight, cubs.»

The main hold was quiet for a little while in Chewie’s absence. Then, Han scooted closer to Leia on the bench, putting an arm around her and shifting his ale to his other hand. He massaged her shoulder, looking thoughtful.

“You know,” he said, “I’ve had a lot of disappointments. A lot of heartache.” He took another sip. “Everyone I’ve ever cared for has either abandoned or betrayed me, the whole lot of ‘em.” He made a scornful sound. “Usually both. And I never… I never took it easy.” He glanced at her. “I’ve had to learn to face the galaxy on my own. Well, not completely—I’ve got Chewie, but you know what I mean. I’ve had to learn not to trust people, not to commit to anything.” He swallowed, looking into her eyes. “I… Leia… I want that to be different, with you.”

Leia opened her mouth to respond, then she closed it again. She wasn’t sure what to say. His words had stirred something deep within her, and her mind was still working through what all it meant. He wants to commit, she thought. He wants a life together. How impossible that would have sounded, once. Still sounded, if she were honest. Was it? All she knew was that she desperately wanted it, too.

“I love you,” he murmured again, and bent down for a lingering kiss. They parted, and she laid her head on his shoulder, nestling into him, wishing she had more to give. Several minutes passed in silence.

And then, finally, she knew what to say, what to do.

She took a deep breath. “On Alderaan,” she began, “women’s hair is regarded as sacred, in a way. There’s all sorts of meaning behind how we wear it.” She paused. “And… there’s a lot of meaning behind who gets to take it down. It’s… incredibly intimate.” She sat up, trembling. Slowly, she drew a pin out of her hair and laid it in his hand. His eyes widened.

She hoped he would understand. It wasn’t a spoken “I love you,” nor was it a lustful consummation. But it was a sign, and, she hoped, a promise of things to come. A powerful act, words without words. Would he hear them? She rotated on the bench, presenting him with the coil of braids that were wrapped around the back of her head.

Slowly, he reached out and touched them. Then he kissed the nape of her neck, making the tiny hairs there stand on end. She let out a shaky breath. He began to search, his fingers wandering over the braids. He pulled out one pin, then another. Every time he removed one, he planted another kiss—this one on her shoulder, that one on her cheek, another one on her neck again.

Finally, the last pin was out and her hair was unraveled. She felt it spilling like a waterfall over her shoulders and back. From behind her, Han made a quiet, agonized sort of sound. She’d never worn her hair down around him before. With reverent care, he dug his fingers into her loose tresses, slowly running through them, gently smoothing out the tangles. “Leia,” he murmured, voice cracking. “It’s… kriff, you’re so beautiful.” He buried his head in it, kissed it.

Once again, Leia didn’t know what to say. A lump had formed in her throat; it seemed to come from a bubble of joy inside her that was growing larger and larger by the second. There were no words for this. She simply turned around to face him, drew his forehead to hers, and then kissed him again, long and deep, while his hands wove through her hair.

[mollyamory-again]

And then I wrote a really long reaction post for Endgame...

Here’s the short form:  <3 <3 <3... ??  @#(*$A)(@#*!?! <3.....<3 ....?<3? <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 !!!

The super long form is below the cut...

So, I went into this movie with a lot of feelings, and I came out with a lot of feelings, and it's taking me some time to process them.

The first, and maybe the most important thing I want to say, is that regardless of my personal fannish/emotional reaction to some of the events -- the film itself was an absolute triumph.  I mean - it was amazing.  There were a great many things to love - and that is a list that includes some things I hated.  Love/hated.  Both!  The fact that they could bring a series of films that spans over a decade together in a way that had people laughing and crying in the theatres, often both at the same time - it's just truly, truly awesome.  It says something that they were able to build these real and true characters who feel important enough that their fates can actually break our hearts.  

So I applaud that, and I hope the film industry takes a good long look at these films and learns from them.  Audiences are willing to wait for the pay-off, we're willing to tackle difficult things, we're willing to fall in love with what we see on the screen if the writers and producers and directors put the effort into allowing it.

That said...

I really liked this movie overall, but I went into it really wanting two specific things for myself, and I didn't get them.  In fact I kind of got the opposite of them, and a lot of my coming to terms with the movie has been coming to terms with just... not getting what I wanted.  And finding a way to be okay with that.  

I wanted Tony to live - and if you're back here behind my spoiler cut, you know I didn't get that one.  It was really hard to lose him.  He was my favorite character in this whole crazy cast. I loved that he could be so wrong sometimes, and with so much utter conviction.  I loved that he could be terrified out of his mind and then just do the terrifying things anyway, because somebody had to, and he could.  I loved how smart he was, and how vulnerable he was, and how he built walls of words to defend himself and define himself.  I loved how hard he loved the people that HE loved, and how much he was willing to do for them.  I loved how great he was with kids (and I love that he got one of his own!) and I love how that seemed at least in part because he never finished growing up himself.

So while I am wrecked that this is the end of Tony in this particular strand of the comics universe, I can't deny that it is 100% true to who he was. He was always going to be the guy who would do this, if it needed to be done.  And it did, so he did it, and it broke my heart - but in the end I have to be okay with it, because yeah.  That was Tony Stark, distilled down to his purest self.  I hated it, but I also loved it, and more importantly I think, I bought it.

I also really would have loved to have a kind of on-screen farewell to my pairing, and I didn't get that, either.  I'm a Science Boyfriends kinda gal, and there was almost zero interaction between Bruce and Tony - there was zero relevant interaction.  But it is what it is - this was never going to be everything to all people, and that's one of the relationships that didn't get priority.  I'm okay with that, too - mainly because its absence means they didn't do anything TERRIBLE to it, either!  When it comes to my pairings, I'd far rather TPTB leave them alone than do something I don't like.  That said - it would have been nice if they'd you know, exchanged a couple of lines?  And it would have been SUPER nice if Bruce had been around to react to Tony's death. Getting past it, getting past it.... ;)

My biggest fear going into this movie was that it would kill my fannishness about the Avengers.  I just recently rediscovered it, and I've been writing like a MAD thing.  I've stayed up too late writing, I've gotten up way to early to write... I've written through nights when I was supposed to be raiding with my online pals, or watching stuff with my housemates.  I've definitely done quite a lot of writing when I was supposed to be working! And it's been fun, and it's felt really good, and I just didn't want to lose it.  I missed fandom and other fans, and I missed caring so much about characters and pairings.  Having it all back again these past couple of months has been a blast -- so I went into Endgame a) pretty sure they were going to kill Tony and b) pretty sure that killing Tony would kill my fannish joy.

I am happy to report it did not.  I'm still in love, and I'm still writing like crazy.  I gave myself some pretty stern talking-tos in the lead-up to the movie, along the lines of "Are you really going to let a couple of rich white geekboys decide what happens to YOUR Tony Stark?" and in short form, "CANON IS NOT THE BOSS OF ME!"  I think it helped.  I'm still here, anyway!

There are a few other things I really didn't like.  One - the CGI for Bruce was a horror show for me.  It landed right in the Uncanny Valley, and I could barely stand to look at him on screen.  Every time he showed up, it was like a cartoon character appearing in my live action show.  I think that actually may have helped me with the Tony thing, though -- because it yanked me out of the movie when Bruce was onscreen, and that gave me the distance I needed to not become a puddle of shivering misery on the floor when Tony died saving the world.

Don't get me wrong - I really do like that he's able to integrate now.  I like that he has control.  Still, I'm not sure this is a road I ever really want to go down in my writing.  I like Hulk too much to want to see him essentially killed by Bruce (which is kind of how I'm reading this.)  I get that Hulk IS Bruce IS Hulk and if I were his therapist I'd be all over it.  But I'm not his therapist - I'm one of his slashfic writers.  And as such, I prefer him splintered and angsting over it.  :)

I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about Natasha, and I'm not sure they're particularly coherent.  I think if Endgame had happened exactly the way it did, WITHOUT the disgusting Ultron lines about how she's a monster because she can't have kids, I'd be fine.  As it is, Ultron happened and then Natasha gave herself up for a guy with a family, and from a purely Doyle-ist perspective I find that sequence of events suspect, and deeply gross.  

On the other hand, from a purely Watsonian perspective, I fully agree with what  <a href="https://cesperanza.tumblr.com/post/184622436895/i-cant-believe-that-as-a-prominent-woman-in">cesperanza had to say about Nat</a>, so I'm just going to let that stand for me, too.

Probably the final thing I didn't like was fat!Thor.  I do get the arguments on the other side of this, that it's cool to show even a super hero can get depressed and live off cheez whiz and get fat and disaffected. But I also think that's not all there is to this; I think you don't make Chris Hemsworth run around in a fat suit without on some level doing it for the point-and-laugh. And I find that kind of "joke" toxic and disgusting.  I'm not going to go on and on about it here, but in short just - a world of no from me on that.  

So what's my score so far?  2 things I wanted but didn't get, 3 things I didn't like?  But on the bright side...it's now time to move along to the bright side! And the bright side is pretty damn bright.

I was incredibly happy that Tony and Steve were able to repair their relationship.  Civil War was such a tough movie to watch, and while there was at least a thread of hope for them at the end of it, this resolution was a long time coming.  They're so very different in their worldviews and methods, but so very alike in their absolute dedication to protecting people and doing the right thing - the friction has always made perfect sense, but getting to see them come to terms with each other ... that's something I have really wanted for a long time.  I was extremely sad watching Tony just chew into Steve at the beginning of Endgame, but not at all surprised - Tony was completely done in, physically, mentally and emotionally.  Just seeing Tony that physically wasted and weak was hard.  Steve's reactions to it were perfect, though, just perfect.  I don't think I could have asked for any more than I was given for the two of them.  

I loved Tony's relationship with his daughter - in fact, I love Tony's relationship with every character below the age of majority that he's ever been on screen with.  Tony may be my OTP (One True Parent) in fact - he's just so deeply interested in these kids (Harley, Peter, Morgan) as human beings.  And he treats them oddly as equals, while still somehow managing to parent well for each of them.  He's hilarious and snarky and caring and he connects.  I don't know, I just adore it.  We didn't get to spend a lot of time with Morgan, but it was obvious she adored Tony and was well on her way to growing up to be just like him, and I wholly approve.  

And before I leave the topic of kids - Tony mourning Peter broke my heart, and his love for Peter when he came back knitted it back together again (that hug omg, </3 -> <3) and then Peter's breakdown when Tony was dying, finally calling him "Tony" instead of Mr. Stark or sir...there it goes, heart broken again.  BROKEN.

I and the rest of the universe loved Steve wielding Mjolnir (and Thor KNEW it!). We all saw this coming from way back at the party in Ultron, and a part of what this series of movies has managed to do that I love is take moments like that, a billion movies ago at this point, and pay them off one by one.  Sure, it's fan service, but because they were patient, it feels earned.  I adore it.

I'm going to wrap this up for now because if I don't, it's never getting posted - I have a ton of thoughts and even MORE feelings about this movie, and I'll be posting more of them because how can I NOT.  But I do want to talk a little about one of the major things that literally filled me with joy: 

The return to Avengers 2012!!! <3 <3 <3

I just want to go back and live there - like, I want to build a tinyhouse with a telescope in the window and just stare at it all from the shadows forever.  I could literally sit for days upon days of "what happened in Avengers 2012 around what we saw on the screen in Avengers 2012" - that could be an entire TV series and I would tune in for every freaking episode.  It was SO. MUCH. FUN!  From "feel free to clean up..." to "take the stairs" and "SO MANY STAIRS" to Loki pretending to be Steve and Loki stealing the tesseract and poofing out to Thor saving Tony with his hammer and both of them so jazzed about it... OMG.  I just love it all, and I'm so happy they did it.  I loved everything around it - I loved Bruce trying half-heartedly to smash, I loved the Sorceress Supreme up on the rooftop fighting the Chitauri, I loved Bruce getting smacked out of Hulk and Hulk on a lounge chair with a sunhat over his face.  EVERYTHING.  I just.  <3

I went into Endgame expecting the worst for my favorite character, and I got the worst for him.  But the more I think about this movie, the more I find that it's a happy place for me. It gave me what I didn't want and it made me like it.  Like - a LOT.  I went into it expecting/fearing that it would kill my fannishness about Avengers, and it's done the exact opposite - it's brought me back into fandom, back into contact with fans, back into thinking all the thoughts and feeling all the feelings and wanting to share them with other people who are thinking and feeling about the same thing.  

I feel like this entire series of movies, this slate of characters, this universe they've built - it's a gigantic wonderful amazing heartbreaking heartmending accomplishment, and I'm just super glad it's all here, and that I got to experience it all.  

(And I can't wait to write a metric fuckton of stories that ignore it! Tony may be gone in this timeline, but he's never going to die in mine, damn it!)

[sparxwrites]

I've noticed recently that I've become accustomed to capitalising words for Emphasis, both in the absence of italics and in tandem with them. As a language nerd, what does this suggest of language mutation going forward?

this isn’t language mutation! at least, not in the way i suspect you mean it. it’s more of a linguistic adaptation to the inherent limitations of text-based communication - which is a bit of a mouthful, and a lot to unpack, so, let’s start with the basics:

in spoken english, we have words and grammar and sentences, the same as we have with internet english. however, we also have facial expressions, and body language, and hand gestures - and most relevantly here something called prosidy, which internet english is lacking (at least in the traditional sense). prosidy is the changes in pitch and volume of your voice when speaking. this gives rise to stress and intonation in speech, which serves several purposes - one is distinguishing between words (ie. record the object, and record the action), another is conveying emotion, and another is providing emphasis.

the last one is the primary purpose of both italics and initial capitalisation in internet english. since we can’t have prosidy over the internet via pitch and volume, we’ve adopted other methods. 

words with the same spelling are usually disambiguated by context, so they’re not hugely relevant here, but there’s some interesting things going on with emotion and emphasis.

emotion is usually done with memes, emoticons, gifs, or other “verbal tags” - stuff like “/s” for sarcasm or “uwu” (which, interestingly, started off as a genuine expression of “i’m not mad at you!” and is now sarcastic and passive aggressive, so that’s a- lexical? possibly-lexical mutation there), or even acronyms like “tbh” and “lol” and “lmfao” which are now more often used to indicate the mood of a particular statement. for example: when was the last time you saw someone using lmfao to Actually Literally Mean “laughing my ass off”? now consider when the last time you saw someone using lmfao to mean “the previous statement is intended to be mildly humorous in a bleak and self-depreciating kind of way” was. think of the number of posts about “adults need to learn to text!” where people think their parents are angry because they ended a text in a full stop. think of all the wonderful variations on ellipses we have!! the way people use question marks as rhetorical devices, to indicate uncertainty in their statement, or to point out how obvious something is!! i love it. emotion tag-words are my favourite.

emphasis / stress is usually (or at least traditionally) done with italics in written english - it isn’t particularly a internet english thing, it’s been done by writers and comic book artists since well before the internet. this is part of what’s called prosodic stress in spoken english, and it’s used in a couple of different ways. aside from general the most relevant one here is to point out new information in a sentence (called focus in linguistics):

“However, it’s not enough to assume that turtles merely like the taste of pineapples. We must consider the possibility that turtles are deeply, sexually attracted to fruit.”

there’s also contrastive focus (a sub-type of focus, where the person you’re speaking to makes an assumption, and you’re contradicting / correcting them). wikipedia has some nice examples of how it’s often used both online and out loud:

I didn't take the test yesterday. (Somebody else did.)I didn't take the test yesterday. (I did not take it.)I didn't take the test yesterday. (I did something else with it.)I didn't take the test yesterday. (I took a different one.)I didn't take the test yesterday. (I took something else.)I didn't take the test yesterday. (I took it some other day.)

other things italics can do include indicating sarcasm (“Oh, of course, no one else has ever thought of this, because you’re so clever.”), and highlighting important/argument-relevant (“As I mentioned earlier: fish can feel love. This is just one reason amongst many, however, that fish-human marriage is undeniably ethically sound.”). i’m 90% sure that that latter one is probably also focus-related, but i don’t know enough about information structure generally to commit entirely to calling it focus - tbh, given how many different theories of focus there are, it may be focus under some theories, but not others (see also: that one theory on the wiki page where anything not given is focused, so if you’re specifically bringing up or reminding people of a relevant piece of information it’s probably not given and therefore focused). if the important / argument-relevant use is not focus-related, though, then it’s at least somehow related to information structure; perhaps italics are more generally useable to indicate something about information structure, without it specifically needing to be focus.

stress done with initial capitalisation, however, seems to be a little different - or at least, seems to occur in broader contexts than the one above. i suspect you could do an entire postgrad thesis on the similarities and differences between the two (and i also suspect that i don’t remember enough about syntax and phonology and information structure etc. to offer the best insight possible here), but let’s see if we can’t at least pick the differences apart a bit.

so! initial capitalisation can certainly be used in the same contexts as italics, for focusing new / relevant information and for contrastive focus. this evidenced by: (a) “omg, have u considered that turtles are Sexually Attracted To Fruit??” and “pls remember that Fish Can Feel Love” are both perfectly a-okay in internet english, and (b) by an edited version of the wikipedia examples:

I didn't take the test yesterday. (Somebody else did.)i Didn't take the test yesterday. (I did not take it.)i didn't Take the test yesterday. (I did something else with it.)i didn't take The test yesterday. (I took a different one.)i didn't take the Test yesterday. (I took something else.)i didn't take the test Yesterday. (I took it some other day.)

(initial capitalisation with “I” is always a little tricky (is it emphasis, or is it just normal capitalisation?), and in my expereince people tend to default to italics with it wherever possible for this reason. i’m also… unsure about how happy i am with the grammaticality (how “okay” a particular sentence is within a given language / dialect) of examples 4 & 5 (“The” and “Test”), but that might be because those two are a little unusual even with italics - “i didn’t take The Test today” looks much better, i think, and can mean both “i took a different one” and “i took something else”.)

however, it’s clear that initial capitalisation can occur in places where italicisation is either outright incorrect, or at least looks kind of weird:

[cute picture of a cat lying on its back, pulling a face, having knocked a plant pot off the table]

commenter A: “Why Do Cats Do These Things”

commenter B: “why do cats do these things”

commenter A’s statement is perfectly correct internet english; commenter B’s statement is just about interpretable, but quite clearly clumsy / not really acceptable in the opinion of most “native internet english speakers”. but why?? well, we’re clearly not focusing “do these things” (because it’s not really providing any information, it’s just sort of… pointing out that the cat in the picture is being weird and then asserting that this is prototypical cat behaviour. it’s trying to tap into a shared knowledge of “what cats do / are like” between “speaker” and reader), and though it’s somewhat humorous it’s not actually sarcastic, so italics are a no-go.

what commenter A is trying to do, however, is to indicate a specific usage / meaning of “do these things” via a specific “tone of voice”. commenter A is not just asking why cats behave specifically in this manner re: knocking pots off and pulling faces, they’re trying to indicate that they consider cats in general to act weirdly and look goofy; typing “why do cats do these things” would be mostly fine if you are indicating frustration / anger with a sudden plague of cats-knocking-off-plant-pots, but that’s not what commenter A is trying to communicate.

additionally, when i say “Why Do Cats Do These Things” out loud, there’s a specific tone of voice i use for it, that i suspect others do to - this kind of flat monotone, with a heavy weight on each word that’s not so much emphasis but a very careful over-pronunciation. it’s not quite emphasis, and definitely not focus-emphasis; it’s almost a comedy thing, or a joke; it’s drawing attention to a specific interpretation of this sentence that’s both humorous and typical within internet spaces; it’s indicating a kind of emotion (exasperation / affection / despair) more than anything.

some other examples of this, where capitalisation is a-okay but italics are somewhere between weird and entirely unacceptable:

“nah it’ll be fine, i’m Basically Immortal lol”

“getting run over would be Suboptimal”

“if word crashes and deletes this essay then, i swear to god, I’m Gonna Die”

“you’re a Terrible Human Being and i love it”

(if anyone can think of any examples where italics and capitalisation is okay, but are in the same style as the above, then let me know! or if people disagree with my analysis of what initial capitalisation sounds like out-loud. this sort of thing relies on native speaker judgements, usually, and although i am as close to a native internet english speaker as you’re gonna get, i’m only one person. other people may have other judgements.)

i suspect, from all of this, that the function of initial capitalisation is to indicate any kind of change in prosidy in the speaker’s voice (though primarily weird monotone), usually with an emphasis on a specific interpretation of the particular phrase that’s initially-capitalised. this is why it can be used for focus, and for sarcasm, and for more general emphasis the same way - but why it can also be used to represent a monotone (“I Would Prefer Not To”) in a way italics can’t, or to indicate that specific “you know what i’m talking about / i am referring to a concept we both share but that cannot be put into words” tone (“Why Are You Like This”), or that looping-up-and-down voice people use when they’re winding someone up (“I Am A Joy And A Delight, idk what you’re talking about :3ccc”).

italics can kind of be used for some of these, but only really as an extension of its function as an indicator of sarcasm - which means that italics are intelligible in that context, but just look weird, and like the person using them isn’t very fluent in internet english. that’s because initial caps don’t quite indicate sarcasm, though it occupies a similar teasing-dramatic tonal area; in some / most instances, initial caps seems to function similar to adding “lmfao” or “lol” onto the end, which suggests it’s also indicating a self-depreciating or bleak humour / drama to the sentence. initial caps seem to function, then, as a focus / emphasis device, but also as an emotion indicator, which is a sort of fascinating crossover of function - but very similarly to the way we see voice and prosidy being used for both focus / emphasis, and for conveying emotion.

so, you probably use italics + capitalisation in conjunction because you’re trying to convey two different things. for a sentence like “drinking three cups of coffee in a row is a terrible, awful, no good idea and oh my god Why Would You Do That”, the italics are conveying where you’re putting stress / emphasis in the sentence (on “oh my god why would you do that”). the initial capitalisation, however, is indicating that on top of emphasis, you’re saying “why would you do that” in a specifically unusual kind of prosidy, probably quite a flat and monotone one, and that it’s designed to be teasing / humorous.

i also suspect that italics + capitalisation can be used as a kind of “double emphasis”, or marking out an emphasised section within an already emphasised talking point. kind of the way bolding sometimes works?? (except the internet tends not to use bolding fsr, or only uses it for headings / as a way to highlight the most important sentences in a wall of information. it’s a structural-level organisational device, essentially.) so you can re-parse “it’s so important we feed cats and dogs different food, because cats are not dogs and have different dietary requirements!!!” as “[...], precisely because Cats Are Not Dogs and have different dietary requirements!!!”. in this instance, you’re emphasising that the reason for different treatment is that cats are not dogs and therefore have different dietary requirements, but also emphasising the fact in and of itself that cats are not dogs.

i also also suspect that, when we just need one form of emphasis and are choosing whether to use italics or initial capitalisation, we consider the context of our writing. in this “essay”, i’ve mostly used italics - they’re a little more “formal” as far as internet language goes (so, not very formal at all, but still more standard than initial caps), they’re more semantically accessible (i.e. if non-tumblr people find this essay, whereas they might be able to proactively work out what initial caps are intended to convey from context, they’ll probably intuitively understand the use of italics here), and they’re more visually accessible / they disrupt the visual flow of the text less. when i’m talking with friends (especially on platforms like skype and discord and tumblr messenger which, if they support italics at all, do so in a “non-intuitive” way, i.e. not using ctrl+i like word processing software does), in shorter / less formal settings, where the visual flow of the sentence is part of the meaning / emotion of the sentence in and of itself (how long are the sentences? do you use full stops? do you capitalise the beginnings of sentences? do you send each sentence as a new message? on a new line? how many dots do you use for ellipses? keysmashes? ?!??!??!?!?!?!!!! ?), i tend to use initial caps.

so tl;dr: italics seem to be primarily used to indicate focus - you’re pointing out a new or specifically relevant piece of information, or you’re correcting / denying a piece of information that your conversational partner has provided (or perhaps being sarcastic). initial capitalisation can Also/also be used for this purpose, but is additionally used to represent Any/any kind of change in prosidy that would occur if you spoke the sentence aloud (since we also mess about with intonation for other reasons beside focus). ...i sincerely hope someone has done / is doing / will do a thesis on this bc honestly this probably has some fascinating implications for information structure or prosidy or Something/something tbh.

regarding the “mutations” comment: these sorts of internet english quirks are not language mutations, per se, because we already have features for distinguishing this kind of thing in spoken english - and also because a lot of this stuff is what we call paralinguistic phenomena, which means that sarcasm and emphasis etc. communicate something, but it’s not actually strictly part of the language itself. it just adds an extra layer of meaning on top of the stuff being conveyed by the actual words.

instead, they’re adaptations of our orthographic (writing) system to cope with the increasing demands of written/internet english to convey these sorts of things. online, we don’t have people’s prosidy and their body language / expressions to read, so we need altered orthography or other visual indicators to ensure that people correctly understand the intent and mood behind your communication, not just the raw word-content of it. that’s why internet english has developed these quirks. essentially: our communication has always had these paralinguistic phenomena, these ways to convey emotion and emphasis; we’re just finding different ways of expressing them in response to environmental restrictions, i.e. the fact we’re all increasingly communicating via text on a regular, intensive basis. historically, we’ve primarily communicated verbally, so it’s not developed due to lack of need - but the internet has has created a heavily-used, text-primary environment, so now we do need it, and we’re collaboratively creating it as a result because humans (especially young humans) are excellent language innovators. it’s pretty neat!!

(as an interesting aside, i suspect that there’s also an element of in-grouping going on here. people want to mark out the community belong to, the people they’ve chosen as their “tribe” - irl, we do this via slang, and accents, and sometimes through certain types of wordplay or forms of prosidy / gesture etc. obviously, online, we can have slang (think about how often you’ve seen someone on tumblr say “top kek”, versus how ubiquitous that phrase is on reddit), but accents are a little harder. so we instead develop different ways of typing, different ways we use italics or capitalisation or emotes. some of this depends on platform constraints - if your community’s site doesn’t allow bold/italics, or automatically converts emotes into weird yellow smileys, you’re gonna have to develop workarounds for that - but some of it is us going “these are my people, and i can tell because we talk differently, and we’re Not Like You People”. this is why it can sometimes be linguistically disorienting going onto a different platform; i often find posters’ “tone” on reddit hard to read, because they seem to signal emotion differently to on tumblr!!

this may, perhaps, also be a reason why we’ve ended up with both capitalisation and italics - if one social group developed italics as emphasis, and a second social group (perhaps on a platform without capacity for italics) developed capitalisation as emphasis, and then the two groups merged or interacted, you’re gonna get this linguistic transference where the groups adopt one another’s styles without dropping their own original style. and then- voila! both italics and capitalisation for emphasis. but because language often tends towards getting rid of redundancy, the two styles specified out into having slightly different connotations / occuring in slightly different pragmatic environments. or, perhaps, the capitalisation style was always broader than italics, and there’s not been any change yet to reduce redundancy, but there will be in the future. who knows!)

(as a second interesting aside, all of this is probably partly why autistic people often report online friendships being easier / report preferring textual communication to face-to-face. whereas expressions and prosidy can be exceptionally difficult to learn to read if they’re not instinctual - think of the infinite variations of muscle contraction and relaxation in the face! the number of different pitches and volumes and patterns we can make with our voice! they’re very difficult to categorise because they overlap a lot and tend to gradient into one another - these kinds of “emotional tags” are usually quite easy and clear-cut. “/s” indicates sarcasm every time it is used, entirely unambiguously. stuff like “lol” or “tbh” are a little more ambiguous, but even then, they have a more limited set of emotional contexts that they’re used in than, say, the corners of your lips moving upwards. gifs and memes are even better; if they don’t outright say what they mean on the gif or in the meme, there’s entire websites dedicated to cataloguing and explaining memes should you be unclear of the usage.

additionally, internet environments can be a little more forgiving wrt people not picking up on tone, or using an incorrect / weird tone, when conversing; it’s hard to display tone online, and even allistic people (especially internet newbies or older people) struggle with it, so tonal faux pas or misunderstandings are a little more expected (and therefore forgiven) than irl.)

[andtheserpentsays]

Where You Are - ChevLotte

Collection of sequenced drabbles, bridging the gap between S2 and S3 and exploring how their friendship developed.  I’ve written SO many of these, but they’re kind of different to what I’d do normally, so.. ?  Let me know if there’s any interest in the rest of them.  

Notes: There’s mentions of drinking whilst pregnant, because we’re talking about a time when champagne treated morning sickness...  Also, historical Liselotte was brutally unkind about Maintenon in her letters, so bear that in mind.

Where You Are

i.

‘You just need to get to know him.’

Phillipe had repeated the phrase to her endlessly, and previously Liselotte had wondered how on earth you were meant to get to know somebody who prickled up faster than a surprised hedgehog.  But it was clear that Phillipe loved this man a great deal, and she couldn’t think of a more glowing character reference than that.  So she resolved to try.

As they had watched Phillipe walk out of their lives, Liselotte felt his hand return her squeeze and she knew then that there was hope.  

ii.

The first week after Phillipe’s departure had perhaps been the hardest, and they had both struggled with his absence. The Chevalier hovered at the edge of her life, like he was helplessly drawn to the places that belonged to Phillipe even though he wasn’t in them.

Before the end of the second day Liselotte had already written him three letters. She found herself asking the Chevalier if he wanted to add anything to her latest, but he didn’t move from the sofa he’d been occupying for most of the afternoon. ‘I’ll write my own, thank you.’

‘Well, come on then.’ She swirled her signature before pulling out a fresh sheet of paper. She rose from her desk, waving him towards it as she blew on the damp ink of her letter. ‘They can go with the same rider.’

To her delight, he did as he was told. Liselotte watched him write from her bed, and couldn’t help but wonder what he had to say.

iii.

The truth was, they didn’t really have anybody else.  The two of them may as well have been alone at Versailles: so they continued to gravitate towards each other, either in Phillipe’s rooms or in her own.  

She had gone to Phillipe’s apartments one evening after dinner, on the hunt for a particular book.  Liselotte found the Chevalier flopped back on his bed staring at the canopy, and her eyes were drawn to the dark, smooth lines of a waistcoat she recognised as Phillipe’s.

He huffed out a laugh when she asked what he was doing.  ‘I found myself choosing what he should wear for dinner.  I think I am going mad.’  

His tone was flippant but it made Liselotte’s heart ache, and she wondered how many times he found himself here.  

‘Well if you feel your talents are wasted, there’s always my wardrobe. Lord knows I need the help.’

With that appeal to his vanity her toe was in the door, and she couldn’t help but feel pleased with herself when he’d agreed.  She soon found there was no true malice in his bluster and that he actually seemed to take great pride in making her look.. presentable.  A new lady made her way into her entourage, poached from somebody else no doubt, and she heard a glowing report on her talent for styling hair.

It became the first of many routines they would share: the Chevalier was there without fail, dressing her for the mornings, for the salon in the afternoon and the evening tables.  

iv.

As the infant grew, Liselotte had quite loudly refused to cave in to the popular fashion for disguising her changing shape.  She’d argued with her ladies, pointing out that people had been so interested in Phillipe performing that she wasn’t about to disguise the results of his efforts.  Montespan could keep her battantes, Liselotte had nothing to hide.

One afternoon she returned from the garden to find an unfamiliar girl in her rooms, hunched over one of her dresses in the light of the window.  Liselotte didn’t get a chance to question her, as the Chevalier spoke up from a sofa.

‘She’s adding panels, for the baby.  They can be taken out again afterwards if you want.’

‘You are.. a marvel.’

He chose her evening’s ensemble from one of her newly amended pieces, only today he didn’t leave once his decisions had been made. Instead the Chevalier lingered in her day room, and once dressed she found him there, nosing through various things on her table without an ounce of shame.   He gave her a brief once-over before tucking her hand into his arm.  

‘Come on then, or we shall be late.’

‘We? We’re going.. together?’

‘You can go on your own if you like.’  Her fingers were already slipping from the crook of his elbow, and Liselotte tugged him back to her which was apparently a satisfactory response.

If he noticed the raised eyebrows they met on their way he didn’t comment, and it was hard to tell what they were more surprised by: their pairing, or the perfect bump that was really very obvious.  For once Liselotte enjoyed her scandal, and let him seat her at a table before joining her.  He proved to be a magnificent accomplice when it came to fleecing their companions.  She showed him her aunt’s preferred method for cheating and he taught her a quinze drinking game of Phillipe’s invention.  

They awoke the next morning in Phillipe’s bed fully dressed, right down to their shoes and her hairpins.  Even in their stupor they’d gravitated towards him.  

Liselotte had needed his full assistance to heave herself out of the bed, and was unashamed as he helped unlace her bodice to give her pregnancy bump more room to breathe.  The expression on the faces of her ladies as the Chevalier returned her to her own rooms had almost been worth the headache.  

v.

Liselotte’s unborn infant was beginning to try and make his presence known, especially when she was either trying to sleep or make conversation. Or breathe, it seemed.  She tried not to consider that this could signal her impending confinement, and instead tried to guess whether she was being elbowed or kicked.

‘You must come and feel it.’  Maybe that was a headbutt?

‘Oh no, my dear.  I shall just believe you.’

‘No, come on.  Phillipe isn’t here, you’ll have to do this for him.’ She held her hand out and waited.  She didn’t say anything when he huffed a sigh but she knew that the tutting sound as he sat beside her was for dramatic effect.  Liselotte arranged his palm carefully, pressing it beneath her own as they waited.  The Chevalier’s patience was as short as she expected.

‘I can’t feel-’  He had barely begun to speak when her baby lurched, and a limb (definitely an elbow) made itself known.  Liselotte smiled and squeezed the hand under her own.  

‘See, he knows you.  Already can’t let down his Uncle Phillipe.’

The punch line of ‘like his father’ hung between them, but neither voiced it.  Phillipe had once felt like he was the literal stitching holding them both together, but Liselotte was not ashamed to admit that she had now claimed a piece of the Chevalier all to herself. And she was rather fond of it.

vi.

The sun had barely set on the first day of Liselotte’s confinement, and she was already convinced she was going to perish from the boredom of it all.  She had secretly hoped to have been allowed a modicum of freedom, especially considering her husband wasn’t here to boss her about.  Sadly Liselotte had forgotten quite how meddlesome her brother-in-law could be.

‘Sister, I insist.’  Louis had grasped her hands tightly, and deployed his most earnest of gazes.  ‘My brother would never forgive me, it is my duty to ensure you and your baby are safe.’

The Chevalier did not disguise his noise of disgust at the words.  He’d had his fill of the Bourbon brothers and their ‘duty’ lately, and it caused only the briefest of flickers in Louis’ expression.

‘I understand, truly.’ She gently, but firmly, extricated her hand from his grasp and patted his sleeve.  ‘But surely, there’d be no harm in pottering around the gardens once or twice?’

Judging by the look on his face (the king’s face, she reminded herself), there apparently was.

And so she had just passed a thrilling day of staring at her own feet over the bump of her nightgown, and half wondering if anybody would come and see her.  Liselotte was especially disappointed that the Chevalier hadn’t shown his face yet.  It would be frowned upon, after all, so an illegal visit should have been right up his street.

Her hopes were dashed when the door creaked open only to have Maintenon appear.  Liselotte wondered if going mad from loneliness might not be so bad, especially when she suspected she was probably snooping on her behaviour for the king.

‘He’s under the bed.’

‘I’m sure I don’t understand.’

‘The Chevalier, he’s under the bed.’  

Her eyebrows had promptly shot to the top of her rather smug forehead. Liselotte made a great point of saying nothing further for a long time, instead choosing a single grape with great care before changing the subject.  Watching Maintenon resist the urge to clamber to the floor and look under the bed, whilst maintaining polite conversation, was the most fun she’d had in a while.

vii. The next afternoon, after another morning of toe inspection and intense hair brushing, one of her ladies scurried in with a tiny, well-folded note.  She’d thrust it into Liselotte’s hand as if it was on fire, curtsied, and then escaped.

As she unfolded it Liselotte instantly recognised the Chevalier’s immaculate penmanship, and made a mental note to ask him what notes he’d made the poor girl carry before.

‘My dear, I’m so terribly bored.  Have you produced a son yet?  Nobody at the tables has the slightest idea how to cheat properly, I think I’m going to go mad.’

‘Oh, I’m fine, thank you for asking.’  

‘The uncle is a snooper.  I’m going to give the old drab another day before she gets bored, then I shall come liberate you.’

Liselotte crushed the letter in her hands and smiled.

viii.

The Chevalier was correct in his suspicions.  Madame de Maintenon endured only one further day of Liselotte’s teasing before she failed to reappear, and the Chevalier swept into her dim chamber in the hour before dinner.  At least she thought that’s what the hour was, it was getting difficult to tell.

‘Goodness, it’s like a crypt in here.’

‘I hadn’t noticed.’

He took a moment to toe off his shoes before coming to sit on the bed beside her.  ‘I brought you a gift.  Something you should most definitely not be reading, rather excitable.’  He tossed it into her waiting hands.  ‘Particularly after chapter five.’

There was also a deck of playing cards that he had smuggled.  One of his own marked decks she was certain, but Liselotte was not in a position to be choosy.  She couldn’t help but smile, turning her face to him like he’d hung the moon.

‘Thank you.’

[sith-shenanigans]

Meetings and Libations

The back room of the cantina was quiet and the lighting low, the music in the main room muffled by the thick door. Three Sith Lords had already gathered around the central table; four of their number were yet to arrive.

The first—a human woman, pale-skinned and golden-eyed—set down her glass with a clink, prompting the others to look up. “I had missed this place,” she said.

The second—male, and in that indistinct place between pureblood and human, his skin ruddy and lined with occasional small ridges—murmured indistinct agreement. “Odessen did leave much to be desired,” he said, “in… certain areas.”

“I definitely didn’t miss the looks I keep getting,” the third muttered. He was a wiry zabrak man, jagged black tattoos crisscrossing his dark red skin.

The second sighed and tapped his fingers on the table. “Such concerns do seem a bit pointless now. I have seen a Hutt who can credibly claim to be a scientific luminary; a zabrak Sith does not stretch my imagination.”

“And I have never called Dulsu a man of great imagination,” the first chimed in, smirking as she lifted her glass to her lips.

Dulsu narrowed his eyes. “If I recall, Karadae, you were the one who spent a week on the tunnel expansion squad for your ‘philosophical debates.’”

“And Cerak here spent a day in the lockup for nearly starting a lightsaber duel.” Karadae’s smirk intensified. “And the less said about your first encounter with the good Doctor Oggurobb, the better. So I’d be careful throwing those stones, if I were you.”

“I said that Cerak didn’t stretch my imagination anymore, not that that Hutt ever became tolerable.”

“You and I can at least agree on the slug,” Cerak said, grimacing.

“I hope Jhera gets here soon.” Karadae glanced at the door. “She’s never late, ever, and I heard there was a bit of trouble with her old master.”

“She was never late on Odessen,” Cerak pointed out. “Perhaps she’s just enjoying our return to the days when military discipline was for other people.”

Karadae raised an eyebrow. “You say that like you aren’t.”

“I can’t say I miss it applying to me,” Cerak grumbled, “but I can definitely think of a few people that could use some.”

Dulsu frowned, looking almost sympathetic. “Darth Anavis?”

“Yes.” Cerak glowered at his drink, tapping the fingers of his cybernetic hand loudly against the glass. “I liked that lieutenant.”

“Anavis does have a bit of a cavalier attitude towards his resources,” Dulsu muttered. “I keep feeling like the Commander is going to appear from thin air to castigate him.”

“I, for one,” Karadae said, “am glad to know she’s on another planet entirely. In case you’re forgetting the times she did that to us.”

“Misery loves company,” Cerak suggested, grinning toothily.

“I’ll take Anavis for a longer leash.” Karadae went to take another sip of her drink, then scowled when she found it empty. “Hmph. That droid had better get back in here soon.”

“Feh. Leashes wherever you go, whatever you do.” Cerak drained his own, then set it down on the side of the table next to the others. “And whatever happened to the Force setting us free? They were so insistent on that back at the Academy.”

“We’re certainly freer here than on Odessen,” Dulsu said. “Especially now.”

Cerak laughed bitterly. “Are we freer,” he asked, “or are the rules just stupider?”

Karadae snorted. “You, my friend, are certainly drunker.”

“I can’t help it if the drinks in the Alliance cantina were terrible.”

The door slid open, and a bronze-skinned, buxom human woman entered with a serving droid at her heels. “I suppose I’m late?”

“Jhera!” Karadae shook her head and clicked her tongue. “Yes. Yes, you are. I was almost getting worried.”

“I was busy.” Jhera pulled out a chair and sat down. “Leave for two years and everything goes up in flames, I’m telling you.”

One of the drinks floated off the droid’s tray and found its way to Karadae’s hand. “I do know what you mean, trust me.”

“We all know what you mean,” Cerak said. “Not that it wasn’t burning before.”

Jhera snagged a glass of her own. “Yes, well, that was when Zakuul was still busy setting fires.”

Cerak reached for the tray, and Dulsu’s brow-ridges climbed a bit higher. “Don’t you think you’re drunk enough already?”

“Considering that this place hasn’t started making sense again yet,” Cerak growled, snatching one of the glasses, “I’m going to say no.”

“I’m glad we’re skipping all the posturing where we try to pretend we’re not having to re-adjust,” Jhera said. “Or did I just miss it?”

Dulsu took another tiny sip from his own half-full glass and waved the droid away. “I see no reason to posture to you.”

Cerak leaned back, arms folded. “You missed it.”

“There wasn’t that much posturing,” Karadae said, waving a hand dismissively. “Mostly we complained about Oggurobb.”

“If a Hutt can be a mad scientist,” Cerak said, “then everyone can damned well stop losing their minds over me being Sith. Brands or no brands.”

“Yes, and that,” Karadae said. “You didn’t miss that much, really.”

“Good.” Jhera slumped down in her chair, half-covering her face with a hand. “Sounds like you’ve been having a better day than I am, at least. I’m probably going to have to kill Gaedun.” She grimaced. “Cerak, you have no idea what a missile you dodged when your master died in the invasion.”

“And I’d rather not know,” Cerak grumbled. “I have more than enough problems already, thank you.”

“Well,” Jhera continued, ignoring him, “the fool’s gotten it into his head that everyone who came back during the Alliance’s ‘moment of weakness’ is suspect, needs to prove their loyalty, et cetera… starting with the apprentice he ordered back the moment Zakuul was defeated.” She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back out of her face. “Because I’m the one he actually has a case for, you see, so that he doesn’t start and end his crusade with the Empress putting him back in his place.”

Dulsu put his chin in his hand, looking entirely unimpressed. “And perhaps if you’d bothered to tell us your master had ordered you home, I would be feeling a bit more sympathetic right now.”

“You didn’t need to know,” Jhera said. “Anyway, that’s water under the bridge now. If he manages to convince the Empress that I should be placed back under his power…”

“Then it will look like we’re all up for grabs,” Cerak finished morosely.

Karadae set her glass down with a theatrical sigh. “And here I had been hoping that returning home might involve a vacation.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to show Gaedun that we’re not a group to cross lightly,” Dulsu said, smiling toothily. “It’s been too long since I’ve had the chance for this sort of thing.”

Cerak rolled his eyes. “You’re out of practice.”

Dulsu shot him a brief glare. “At least I’m not intoxicated too.”

“If the two of you can keep your hands off each other long enough,” Karadae said, “I do believe we have a pressing concern. Yes? Yes.”

“And three people still late,” Jhera muttered. “If we’re going to be planning, we need to wait for them.” She pulled a holocomm out of her pocket and stood, tapping in a number as she made her way over to a corner. “I have Vua’s commcode, I’ll find out where the hells she’s been.”

“Osfe changed hers, I think,” Karadae said. She made a disgusted noise. “I swear, if we’re making this a regular thing, we need to coordinate a little bit better than this.”

“Not to mention the assassination we seem to be plotting,” Cerak added dryly. He raised his glass in an ironic salute. “Look at this. The moment the Commander isn’t looking over our shoulders, we fall apart.”

“Was that you volunteering to coordinate?” Dulsu asked.

“I suppose so,” Cerak said, barely managing not to snarl the words. “After all, the rest of you don’t seem to be doing very well at it.”

“Vua says she was off-planet and she just landed,” Jhera said, returning to her seat. “I would appreciate it if we didn’t make the drunkest person here our coordinator, by the way.”

Cerak drained his glass. “Too late.”

The door opened again, revealing a short and skinny chiss. “I apologize for my absence,” she said, stepping into the room. “Someone decided that the present would be an excellent time for a full debriefing.”

“Hello, Ofse,” Karadae said. “Would it have killed you to give me your new commcode?”

“Possibly.” Ofse glanced over at the other end of the table as she sat down. “Is Cerak drunk already?”

“Yes, and still the most competent person here,” he said. “You’re just in time to hear why we can’t assassinate somebody.”

“I’m fairly sure I can,” Ofse said, arching a brow. “I take it you’re about to explain why I shouldn’t.” She tilted her head. “Who are we not assassinating, by the way?”

“I don’t know,” Jhera replied, giving Cerak a sharp look. “I definitely recall saying that Gaedun had to die.”

“He turns up dead, it’s a conspiracy and we have the whole Revanite flap all over again.” Cerak reached out a hand, found no more drinks forthcoming, and frowned. “Except with us as the targets. So either he has a nasty accident instead, and one that doesn’t look like us, or we get him to shut up some other way.” He gestured encouragingly. “Well? Ideas? Or am I going to have to plot this all myself?”

“If you’re done stating the obvious,” Jhera said, “I vote nasty accident.”

Ofse stole one of Cerak’s empty glasses, removed a flask from a fold in her robes, and poured. “I am fond of blackmail, but that has its own risks.”

“Let’s not go rushing off on our own doing anything before we know who his other enemies are,” Karadae suggested. “I know, I know, we may have a time limit, but if his case were particularly good he’d have had Jhera as soon as we got back. I suspect we have enough time to find out who might be happy to solve this problem for us.”

“I’ll duel him on the steps of the Citadel if I have to,” Jhera hissed. “But… I won’t take unnecessary risks, however much I want to spill his blood.”

“I suppose I’ll poke around and find out how much traction he really has,” Dulsu said. “Though I suspect everyone will be waiting to see where the cards fall.”

“Information-gathering sounds like a great idea,” Cerak said. “Truly. An idea that should have been stunningly obvious from the start, but better late than never.” He glowered at his three remaining glasses. “Now, can we get that droid back in here?”

Ofse took a sip from her stolen glass. “I suggest that the answer be ‘not.’”

“I second that,” Dulsu said. “Unless we order dinner, that is.”

Cerak slouched aggressively, scowling. “Who goes to a cantina for the food?”

“It’s good here, I promise,” Karadae said. “Why else do you think I picked one of the fancy cantinas?”

“So I could drink too many fancy drinks, obviously,” Cerak said.

There was a knock. Everyone at the table looked over at the door. There was another knock, a few seconds of silence, and then the door finally swished open. The latest arrival was a heavyset pureblood woman with a tremendously complicated hairstyle. “I know how late I am,” she said, holding up one hand as she used the other to stuff a keycard back into her pocket, “but I’ve been on Ziost for the last week. They wanted someone with at least secondhand information on Nathema’s revival to speak to the team investigating its rebirth.”

“Vua,” Ofse said, nodding in acknowledgment. “I will staple your keycard to your hand next time.”

Vua eyed her hand dubiously, then hurried over to the table. “I don’t think any stapling will be necessary.” She smiled and took her seat, leaving only one empty. “I’m just a bit scattered right now, you understand. All these meetings I’m being dragged into!”

Cerak gave her a vague wave. “If the ex-spy would catch the archaeologist up…”

“Ex?” Ofse drew herself up, looking supremely offended. “I would already be back with Sith Intelligence were my loyalties not in question now.” She turned to look at Vua anyway. “Vua, you are aware Jhera’s old master wishes to re-assert his authority, yes? We have been plotting to prevent this.”

“Ah, politics, I can’t say I missed you.” Vua shook her head. “Well, I do see the common threat here, so I’ll help if I can. Of course, I doubt that I or my new team can do much to ruin his reputation—much less kill him outright—though I suppose if you wanted him framed for artifact theft…”

“I’m going to signal to the droid that we’re ready for dinner,” Karadae said. “Did everyone leave their order with the kitchen?”

Vua lifted a hand. “I forgot, I’m afraid. Just have them give me something spicy, and I won’t complain.”

Ofse stared at her. “Vua? How is it that you are still alive?”

Vua beamed. “Luck, a harmless facade, and a willingness to zap idiots.”

“If your scatterwittedness is a facade,” Ofse said, “then I commend your dedication to the deception.”

“Thank you!”

Cerak leaned over to look at Karadae’s datapad. “I hope you’re ordering another bottle as well.”

Karadae put a hand on his chest and shoved him away. “Not for you, I’m not.”

“Fine.” He put a hand on the table to steady himself. “But next time I’m taking charge of my own drinks.”

“So noted. I’ll let Dulsu carry you home.”

Cerak waved a hand dismissively. “Have a little faith in me.”

“My faith in you stops at about four drinks,” Karadae said dryly.

Dulsu crossed his arms. “Mine stopped at three, so I would say you’re being unusually tolerant.”

“Fine, fine, I get it,” Cerak grumbled. “Back to the task at hand, perhaps?”

Any response was cut short by the door skidding open and slamming back into the wall. Into the room walked a short, stocky human woman in red armor, a long cape trailing behind her. She swept a blazing gaze over the six people already at the table. “I see I’m late.”

The other six exchanged various glances. By some unspoken agreement, Dulsu was the one to speak: “Never, Lord Wrath.”

“You may use my name. All of you have earned that privilege.” The woman strode over to the last remaining seat and put a hand on the back. “Besides, I haven’t reclaimed my title. Yet.”

“Orinara, then,” Dulsu said, inclining his head smoothly. “Welcome.”

[mtraki]

That OTHER fic idea...

You ever have a fic idea all plotted out, and you keep thinking about it, but you never really want to get around to writing it out-- you just really want to talk/obsess about it?  I do.

So here it is.  Come yell at me about it? :

Niflheim wins.  They used Ardyn for his knowledge of Magitek and then betrayed him, locking him away in a windowless room for the rest of his immortal life-- because somebody paid attention to history.

  And sure, the first Lucian king ‘erased him from history’ but not entirely. After all, there’s a painting of him riding into town on a white chocobo as the all-loved healer he was.  So clearly they recognize he’s a) Lucian royalty--technically b) he’s somehow immortal and finally c) he’s probably up to no good.  Still, the Emperor relies heavily on the power of the daemons and so the ‘vanishing sickness’ is spreading, albeit much more slowly.

Loqi, Caligo, Ravus, Glauca and Verstael Besithia are left to keep the empire running while Aldercapt slowly succumbs to his madness from the daemons and his lust for the Crystal-- as well as advanced age.In order to get beyond the New Wall of Insomnia, they fake a peace treaty like last time, but it is Ravus and Lunafreya who propose it-- Ravus, more politically schooled than the others is made Chancellor on a probationary basis in Ardyn’s ‘absence’.  His first move as Chancellor, to prove his loyalty and competence was to marry Ariel Trammel to cement a firm bond between the Imperial government and the independent government of Accordo.  Lunafreya fears for her brother and sister-in-law both as well as fearing for Noctis and the line of Lucis agreed to go with her brother, if only to find her opportunity…-- and many events play out similarly to Kingsglaive.  Except Lunafreya goes to Altissia like she’s supposed to, with Ariel, to marry Noctis (this was NOT Ravus’s plan nor Glauca’s) and they are all picked up by Niflheim there.

Because Luna isn’t in Insomnia to get ‘kidnapped’, a bunch of people don’t die unnecessarily (Crowe...) However, obtaining the Crystal is a much bloodier affair with the Kingsglaive there.  Especially since a number of Glaives, dissatisfied with Regis’s efforts concerning Galahd and other territories outside Insomnia AND how the king is agreeing to release them to the Empire in this treaty, go turncoat and help the Empire to secure the Crystal-- stating it was a long time coming for the cold-hearted people of Insomnia.

Events at the treaty signing go much unchanged.  The still-loyal Glaives and the few Crownsguard guarding the Crystal are able to warn Cor and the other Crownsguard.  Cor returns to the Citadel.  Some of the Glaives are able to get into the signing chamber to help defend Regis’s life.  They are no match for Glauca and Ravus, however, and are forced to retreat with the king.

Cor meets them in the underground passageways and Regis passes him the Ring of Lucii, commanding him to take it to Noctis.  Glauca kills Regis and Clarus.  Ravus stops Cor and informs him that Noctis, his retinue, and Lunafreya are all in Niflheim custody, and demands his surrender in return for sparing Noctis’s life.  Because Ravus really wants Noctis dead.  But he also really doesn’t want Cor wandering free.  With the life of the new king-- the Prophesied King of Light, no less-- weighing on his decision, Cor surrenders.  Killing Ravus and even Glauca here would not secure the kingdom if Noctis remains imprisoned or is executed.  Insomnia falls, no Diamond Weapon is needed, and the Old Wall does not erect in defense of the city.

So all these jerks are prisoners of war now.

Luna is placed back in house arrest with her brother and sister-in-law.  Noctis and Gladio are secured in a dungeon separately where Noctis cannot use his power of kings to summon weapons or warp or anything.  Ignis is interrogated thoroughly as Glauca/Drautos knows he was being groomed to be the future Hand of the King.  Prompto is initially taken back to his creator, but when Besithia notes that he is ‘flawed’ he declares he does not want him and that he ought to be destroyed.  Ariel denounces this and takes custody of him.  Because Ariel is pretty pissed about what was done to Lunafreya here-- how Lunafreya personally blames herself for everything that has occurred. So now Ariel is baring her teeth and showing off her political know-how.  Prompto is put under her custody and is taken into her house.  She also slowly convinces Drautos to let her take over Ignis’s interrogation-- she can read minds, after all.  She also arranges for Luna to be able to see Noctis regularly, though these meetings are always very strictly guarded and secured.

Nobody really knows what to do with Cor.  50% of the time they want to just kill him, because interrogating him would be useless-- Drautos is not stupid in this. Noone has discovered that Cor has the Ring-- otherwise Ravus would have taken it and tried to become the Hero of Light.  Or Drautos would have.  (You can’t trust anybody with the damn Ring except literally Cor…) Cor considers off and on putting on the Ring, however he’s well-versed in the lore behind it and decides that ‘Immortal’ or not, he’s just a lowly soldier and the old kings of Lucii would probably recognize that. He determines that he’d only put it on if he absolutely had to-- like on-his-way-to-the-gallows ‘had to’.   Until then, he’s keeping it hidden and safe until he can pass it to Noctis.  With Ariel becoming more and more involved with the situations of the prisoners-- she’s also improved accommodations and care for Noctis and Gladio, and Ignis’s circumstances have improved tremendously (he almost even likes her for it-- because of course part of the interrogation is informing him and providing evidence of how well she’s been trying to take care of everyone.  It’s fairly successful…)-- she eventually discovers Cor. Unfortunately, it’s more or less love at first sight for her.  She’s in a loveless marriage to a man who half the time despises her lack of actual royal pedigree and the other half is trying to barter with her to somehow forward his own political agenda-- because she has more sway over the Emperor than he does.  Pretty girls who smile get by better than pretty boys who frown, it seems.-- and the whole time is rather indifferent to her desire and need for attention and affection.

Glauca is 300% against letting Ariel take Cor under house arrest and Ravus isn’t too far behind him-- both of them suspect the house will not be enough to hold him, even though it proves enough to hold Prompto.  Though, admittedly, Prompto is a completely different kind of prisoner altogether, and admittedly he feels a great deal of loyalty toward Ariel lately. She saved him from liquidation and is doing her best to protect his friends.  And she’s a pretty girl who talks to him!  Regularly!  And even Prompto thinks it’d be a dumb idea to try an escape while all his other friends are held hostage.  It’d be different if there was some place to go, if there was a resistance force he knew of, but so far, Niflheim’s victory seems pretty complete.  Ariel and Luna manage to badger Ravus enough to agree to moving Cor to the house, and Ariel also receives the blessing of the Emperor to do it.  Her argument is that like Ignis, Cor has vital information, namely information concerning the rest of the Crownsguard and the Kingsglaigve, who are unaccounted for-- who they are, what they can do, what threat they may pose, and where they might possibly be.  Certainly classic interrogation methods would prove even less effective against ‘the Immortal Marshal of the Crownsguard’ than they did against Ignis, but then surely her methods could prove just as effective as they do on everyone else.  Cor is moved to Ariel's house and is secured separately from Prompto.  Glauca is mad.

Prompto and Cor are in separate wings/floors of the house so they cannot collaborate and make plans (Ravus’s rule) but Lunafreya is given free reign of the house, she just cannot leave it.  Ravus isn’t stupid enough to think she might not carry messages between prisoners, but he’s also certain Ariel won’t let her get away with it-- if it becomes apparent she can’t control her prisoners, she will lose custody of them and things will go very badly for them. (Ravus has not yet figured out that ‘caring for the prisoners’ is not Ariel’s end goal.  He thinks her soft, prone-to-bleeding heart is making her act out of compassion.  That’s part of it, but unlike his sister, she’s really just focused on fucking the Empire as hard as she can for what they did to Lunafreya.  And Altissia.  Keeping the POWs healthy and gaining their trust is just a part of that…)  Cor learns that Lunafreya gets to see Noctis regularly and passes her the Ring to give to Noctis.  Ariel, of course, knew Cor had the Ring (because mindreading).

However, before Luna gets a chance to do this, Glauca and Besithia challenge Ariel’s position.  Besithia, having worked with Ariel’s parents knows what she is and threatens to reveal this to the Emperor.  Meanwhile, Glauca entreats the Emperor to let him inspect their home to make sure everything is as it should be and she’s not housing a rebellion.  The Emperor grants this request-- not because he suspects Ariel, but because he 100% doesn’t, but he figures this would be the easiest way to calm everyone down.  He also wouldn’t mind learning what Ravus is up to.

Ravus is up to trying to rebuild Tenebrae, so he’s a little (lot) bit peeved at this sudden inspection.  Ariel is more worried about Besithia’s threat.  She backs down enough to satisfy him, more or less removing herself from the fortress and the Emperor’s ear for the interim.  She spends her time at the house with her prisoners-- Luna included-- who can also go nowhere.

Cor has figured out pretty quickly that Ravus’s (unsatisfied) wife is into him.  He also figures out that Ravus really doesn’t care about her.  He likely intends to use her to make an heir for Tenebrae at some point in the future, but surely isn’t working on it now.  So he feels pretty safe nurturing her feelings for him, leading her on, and convinces himself the whole time that he’s just using her and doesn’t care about her either.  The house being on lock-down doesn’t suit him at all, so he wheedles out of her that she’s being blackmailed by Besithia.  When the house inspection ends, he manages to get Lunafreya to pass along what he’s learned to Prompto-- he knows Prompto is somewhere in the house, but Prompto doesn’t know he’s here.  Ariel catches them doing this and Cor explains that Besithia threatening her puts all of them in danger, and after everything she’s done for them… it’s the least they can do.  Besides, Besithia is a damned monster.

So Ariel allows Prompto to slip out-- under many heartfelt oaths that he will return-- and goes to shut down Besithia and his work.  Cor does not go, because Cor is a high-profile prisoner and Prompto has more or less been forgotten.  Also, Prompto now knows a good piece of the layout of the facility.  Being equipped by one of the wealthiest houses in the Empire serves him well, and he is also 400% determined to get this shit done (no boo-hooing or crises of identity this time… that happened earlier before Ariel got him wrapped around her little finger more-or-less).  And he does, returning victorious and undetected by anybody that might cause trouble.  Cor is somewhat impressed at the talented little assassin/saboteur Prompto has become.

With Besithia’s grand-plans for godhood exposed, the Emperor deposes him post-mortem and Ariel comes out smelling like a rose for ‘always doubting him and the validity of his focus’.  Glauca has a little egg on his face now and decides to hush up for a little while in regards to suspecting her.  Meanwhile, Cor’s imprisonment under Ariel has not been a waste.  Unbeknownst to him, she has gleaned useful information concerning secret Crownsguard camps and hidden strongholds where the quickly splintering forces still loyal to Lucis gather.  With Cor gone and the betrayal of the Kingsglaive made public, the resistance is un-unified and split into numerous factions.  At the very least, however, this war is a political one against the Empire, and not one against the destruction of mankind.  Days are shorter, but not overly-noticeably so.  With Ardyn locked away and the King of Light and the Oracle still alive, the spread of Starscourge does not advance quickly. (with Lunafreya locked up, however, it spreads faster than it would had she remained free to accomplish her healing…)

Luna is able to see Noctis again and she gives him the Ring and tells him Cor’s intention that they escape together to join the rebellion forces and try to rally them under his crown.  Noctis wants to try and save his friends but is convinced not to due to the risk of re-capture.  Ariel discovers the plot and meets with them, giving them Gladio-- another largely ‘forgotten’ prisoner-- and a secret means of escaping Niflheim. The sisters part tearfully, unsure if they will meet again but knowing their efforts are better used separately from now on.  Ariel offered Prompto to go (she could not reasonably free Ignis or Cor for the value they still held to the Empire) but he refused, stating that with things ‘heating up here’ he would rather stay with her to maybe keep her safe, should the Empire discover her part in all the plots.

Glauca is absolutely livid that Noctis escaped with Lunafreya (and Gladio) and confronts Ravus about it.  Ravus confronts Ariel, fairly certain that any plot his sister had, his wife would know about.  Ariel asks Ravus how long he planned on underestimating the Oracle or defying the gods.  Ravus demands an explanation and Ariel denies him one.  Ravus cannot reasonably do anything about Ariel, however, because a) he fears her powers and how they’ve grown, and b) she’s the darling of Aldercapt-- who still mistrusts him.

So basically Noctis and Luna go to lead the rebellion (or try…) and Ariel saps the Empire from within with Cor and Ignis and Prompto.  Ravus will probably come around once he learns that Ariel is totally supporting the idea of Tenebrae being a kingdom again.  Maybe eventually Ariel will finish seducing Cor into the idea of finishing seducing her.  And Prompto gets to feel like a badass knight-in-shining armor.

With Aldercapt fading fast, it’s going to come to Glauca or Ravus/Ariel leading the Empire-- since the Emperor has no heirs.  Ariel is the obvious choice since the Emperor adores her and does not question her loyalty at all. (Again… mindreading, also speaking to daemons… also y’know… smiling pretty girls and old men…)  Aldercapt keeps chastising Glauca for not heeding Ariel’s advice, for not supporting and tutoring her-- grooming her to be a better Empress.  For not watching out for Ravus-- who is the real threat to the Empire!  Glauca more or less determines the best way to deal with the future of the Empire is with the sword.  He begins plotting how to murder her and get away with it...

[itsbootypacks-blog]

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What precisely is expendable Surgical Equipment? Pretty much everything from wraps, outfits, face veils, dressing, and even a few things like retractors and other comparative things. Numerous clinical consideration offices, particularly littler private ones just as certain outpatient offices are seeing it as very savvy both in the cash spared buying dispensable things as to disinfecting such huge numbers of things and wash outfits and covers. In huge clinics that have a high crisis room visit rate, the expense of having to continually disinfect things that are utilized as often as possible can be exorbitant. Along these lines, huge numbers of the bigger injury units are going to dispensable gear and supplies in light of the fact that in addition to the fact that it reduces the time and vitality expected to wash or sanitize things, yet there is less trust that perfect things will be accessible for use.

With the high hazard factor of exceptionally transmittable maladies being progressively pervasive in clinics the whole way across the world, the utilization of expendable Surgical Equipment is turning out to be more typical spot than you may might suspect. In battle circumstances or in remote clinical facilities where crisis methodology are regularly performed under not exactly perfect conditions, it is a lot faster and certainly more secure to utilize expendable things and not need to stress over the likelihood that instruments can't be appropriately disinfected after use.

With dispensable Surgical Equipment things getting more savvy to deliver as the interest for the builds, almost certainly, in the long run the utilization of customary things will turn out to be less regular spot. As stricter shields against the spread of disease and cross defilement are established, it is predictable that in the end the main non dispensable things in a careful zone will be the tables, observing hardware, huge instruments and clinical work force themselves. It is just trusted that the accessibility of exclusive expectation quality dispensable gear and supplies will stay a practical choice as well.Sleep apnea is a resting issue which is a major issue and it ought not be overlooked as it can bring about critical medical issues like coronary episode, hypertension, and stroke and may even reason unexpected demise. Other than that absence of adequate rest can cause wastefulness, auto versatile mishaps and laziness constantly. So it must be treated at the most punctual to lead a sound and safe life.

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There are various techniques for the treatment of this condition, similar to oral meds, breathing help gadgets, social adjustment and medical procedure. There are numerous individuals who keep away from medical procedures and like to get non careful treatment for this sickness which can get improvement the patient.

Non careful medicines are favored by numerous patients and specialists since medical procedures have opposite symptoms and in some cases cause genuine inconveniences later on.

One of the ways for disposing of this issue is conduct change. In this treatment patients are advised to lessen weight as rest apnea happens because of extreme weight. Weight decrease can be awesome and improve the patient's manifestations. By losing 10% of your additional weight you can have an astounding effect in nature of your rest. In the event that you are overweight the overabundance fat extends the tissues at the rear of the throat which squares aviation route while dozing. Along these lines weight decrease can improve your rest a lot.

Another full of feeling route is to stop negative behavior patterns. You can control your rest apnea by decreasing the admission of liquor, medications and tobacco. On the off chance that it is difficult for you to stop them, at that point you should attempt to diminish the admission or if nothing else quit taking these before hitting the hay. You have to change your dozing propensities also. Rather than resting straight on the back the patients should attempt to rest as an afterthought. It will control your tongue tumbling to the rear of your throat during rest which causes rest apnea. Managing rest time can likewise be a successful measure and will guarantee a quiet and serene rest.

CPAP machines are additionally a decent hotspot for having a decent rest. CPAP (constant positive aviation route pressure) give a reasonable aviation route to the patient while dozing. CPAP veils are accessible for such individuals who require legitimate aviation route during rest. Individuals who need to keep away from medical procedure and don't discover conduct changes useful can utilize CPAP veils to have an agreeable rest.

Uniquely crafted oral gadgets are additionally embraced by numerous patients. An oral gadget can be developed by the patient's mouth structure. This causes the patient to have a decent night's rest.

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[lady-stardust7-blog]

The Oldest Game: Chapter 3

Summary: On his way home from work, Gold runs into a lady of the night called Lacey. He finds himself drawn to her, and soon realises that he can’t stop thinking about the young woman on the street corner, and the web of secrets she has spun.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 4]

[read it on Ao3]

Chapter Three: Awake

Once again, Gold found himself with Lacey in the passenger seat and his mind blank. He turned on the radio to take off some of the pressure, and once she was safe and strapped in he drove her away from the location that he was growing to hate more by the second.

“Where am I dropping you off?” he asked.

“I’ll just tell you the directions. Turn right here,” she replied, shortly. Apart from the occasional direction and the sound of the late-night radio show, which neither of them were listening to, they remained in silence. Gold spent the time wondering if this would be their last encounter. Although he was about to find out where she lived, he could hardly pull up outside her house and watch her, and he knew that they weren’t friendly enough that he could just pop in for a cuppa.

Before tonight, he had hoped that seeing her again would maybe provide him some sort of closure, make him realise that she wasn’t a dream, and that she was okay. Maybe that way, he’d have been able to stop thinking about her all the damn time. After tonight, he knew that he should say goodbye to that hope, because saving her from potential sexual assault was in no way reassuring. He’d be lucky if he could get to sleep at all tonight, or in the next week for that matter.

“You’re not better than me, just because your suit jacket costs a grand,” she blurted out.

Gold blinked. “Noted.”

“Is it?” she retorted. “Because I can feel you judging me from a mile away. Left here.”

“I am not judging you,” he replied, defensively. “I was just wondering if you were okay. You’ve been through a lot tonight.”

“I’m fine. If you think that was bad, you should live a life in the day of me. That was nothing,” she laughed, but Gold didn’t even crack a smile.

“Lacey, have you… taken anything tonight? Other than alcohol, I mean?” asked Gold, tentatively. Truthfully, he had wondered if Lacey had engaged in substance abuse since reading the statistics in the newspaper, but it seemed particularly relevant now given the paranoia and slight mood swings she’d exhibited since he had picked her up.

“Liam gave me a few lines,” she said, casually. Gold felt his hands tighten on the wheel.

“And Liam, that’s-?”

“The previous client. Second right here.”

They returned to the silence and Gold felt himself getting angry, not at Lacey, but at this Liam. He suspected there was more to this bloke than Lacey was letting on but he knew not to pry, and tried to focus his efforts on the radio to distract himself. Some guy had called in for advice on how to tell his love interest that he had a third testicle, and Gold found himself wishing that his problems were that simple.

Unfortunately, his mouth betrayed him, and he found himself asking, “why do you do it?” before he had a chance to even process the words.

“Well, why do you do it?” replied Lacey.

He wasn’t following. “Do what, exactly?”

“You live the same life every day. You seem like the kind of guy to keep yourself to yourself, I bet you’d go days without talking to anyone if you could. You wear a three-piece suit and go to work every day but what’s it all for? Don’t you feel sedated? Don’t you feel bored?”

“I feel content,” Gold replied, and he saw Lacey sigh and look out the window.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who’s awake,” she muttered. “Or, the only one who’s trying to wake up. I don’t do drugs because I had a fucked up childhood so cut it out with the pity, I just do it because it’s fun, and because I want to feel alive. It’s not the life I planned, but life doesn’t work out that way. Not that you’d know. I bet you’ve had money for as long as you’ve been alive. What do you know about living?”

Gold thought about it and frowned slightly. His mind suddenly felt blank when he thought back to his life. It was true, he’d had money for as long as he could remember… in fact, was there ever a time before…? He shook his head. He was getting side-tracked.

“I hardly think you’re in a good place to lecture me about living, dearie.”

“Whatever. You don’t get the point.”

“And that is?”

“The point is, there is no point, so get off your pedestal. You can just drop me off here.”

Gold stopped the car. Lacey muttered a thank you and got out, and he took a moment to look around the street. It was full of suburban family houses, and unless Lacey was living with somebody else there was no way she’d be able to afford this. He should know, he owned half of them.

He drove further down the road until he was out of her sight, then pulled up, got out of his car and rushed back so that he could see where she was heading. He watched her cut through the gap between two houses and followed a shortcut on his end to beat her to the next street. There, he watched her come out through the other side of the houses and walk through a few more streets and paths until all that surrounded her was overgrown grass and mossy walls decorated with crude graffiti. She walked up to one of the grimy buildings, putting her hand through the letterbox to open the door from the inside, before disappearing through the door.

Gold analysed the rest of the building. Surely she couldn’t live here? This place didn’t look suitable even for a stray dog. It looked fit to collapse any minute and that wasn’t to mention the sort of company it might attract, especially with the absence of a lock on the door. No, this wouldn’t do.

Gold made his way over to the door and gave it a knock. No answer.

“Lacey? It’s me,” he called through, but still no answer. He put his hand through the letterbox as she had done and opened the door, being met immediately with the stench of stale cigarettes and dampness. He found himself in a dark hallway with a ripped-up floorboard and walls that were peeling. He heard movement coming from one of the adjacent rooms.

“Lacey?” he said, walking into the room. He found her looking less than impressed, midway through lighting a candle.

“I could have you for breaking and entering, you know,” she said.

“That would only be in your interest if you were the homeowner,” he retorted. “And I’m willing to bet, by the state of this place, that you are just as much breaking and entering as I am.”

“Did you watch me until I got home? Are you stalking me or something?” she demanded.

Shit, he was. He looked behind her to see the gloomy interior of the so-called living room. It was dark inside, the moonlight and streetlights fighting a losing battle against the boarded-up windows of the small room. The candlelight illuminated the mould encrusted wallpaper and collection of blankets and pillows on the other side of the room. He spotted a portable cooker and a few tins, boxes of cereal and chipped ceramic cups and plates.

“Oh, Lacey,” he sighed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. This is the living you claim to be doing? Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? Anybody could walk in here at any moment. You’re lucky the ceiling hasn’t collapsed in on you.”

She looked indignant.

“Hey, I didn’t ask you to come back here. We’re not all lucky enough to have a big mansion like you do.”

“Come back there with me,” he blurted. Lacey looked taken aback, then she frowned as if it was all part of a ploy. “Seriously,” he continued. “You shouldn’t live here, Lacey. I’ll find you somewhere else, somewhere safer and with running water. In the meantime, you can have one of my spare rooms.”

Lacey looked as if she didn’t know whether to be trusting or angry. Gold got the feeling that she felt like this a lot.

“Please, Lacey.”

“Why do you even care about me?” she finally managed.

“I don’t,” he lied, on instinct. “It’s just that, squatting is illegal and as a landlord I hate to see it bring down property values in the surrounding areas.” He mentally kicked himself. What the fuck?

Lacey, however, smirked, seeing right through him. The smirk vanished almost as quickly as it appeared.

“And what do you want in return?” she asked.

“Nothing. You don’t owe me anything. I have the space, it’s no loss to me. Quite frankly, even my car is safer than this. At least it has a lock.”

She still looked uncertain. “I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Anthony.”

This didn’t look like it changed anything.

“I’m a small man with a limp,” he added. “I have no doubt you could overpower me if I had an ulterior motive. But you also know, from our encounter, that I don’t want to use you anyway. You have nothing to lose and I can guarantee your safety whilst you’re under my-“

“Okay,” she interrupted. Gold sighed in relief.

“Okay,” he repeated. “I’ll give you a moment to gather your things.”

“There’s no need. All my clothes are in this bag,” she replied.

Soon, they were back in Gold’s car and on their way back to his place, and he found himself wondering what on earth had just happened. He’d thought about this girl for days on end, accepting the fact that he’d probably never see her again. And now, she’d be temporarily living with him? He couldn’t believe his luck.

He’d make sure everything was perfect for her, giving her the break from her lifestyle that she deserved. He’d make her breakfast in bed – even dinner in bed if that was what she desired.

He thought back to what she had said earlier about wanting to feel awake. He hadn’t even felt asleep until he’d met her, but she had certainly awoken something in him. Something that would help her get her life back on track, something that gave his life a purpose right now. Maybe even once he’d turned her life around, something could develop between the two of them…

No. He couldn’t go into this expecting an outcome as far-fetched as that. After all, he was doing this for her, not for himself. He’d help her realise how young, beautiful and full of potential she was, and she’d know how out of his league she was after that. He barely knew her, but he knew that was the least she deserved.

They got into his house, and he took her coat off her shoulders, hanging it up next to his. He through his keys on the side and noticed her eyeing up his whiskey cabinet.

“I think you’ve had enough today,” he said. “The only thing you need is sleep. Come, let me show you your bedroom.”

He walked her upstairs to the second largest bedroom in the house, furnished with a queen-sized bed, an armchair beside the window and a fireplace. The room had a warm feel to it, the dark red walls decorated with paintings of the Scottish Highlands, although he supposed that anything felt warmer to her than that hovel she was staying in. He felt his insides flutter when he saw her eyes widen, and he wondered what else he could do to make her that happy.

“There are towels in the bottom draw of the dresser, and you’re welcome to put the rest of your clothes inside. The bathroom is just down the hall and you can help yourself to anything in the cupboards or fridge. I only have two requests.”

Lacey looked to him, suddenly brought out of the daze of looking around the beautiful room.

“No selling your body, and no drugs under my roof,” he told her. “I don’t care what you do when you’re not in the house, but if money is an issue I’d rather you asked me for it than have to get it from some pervert with a twenty-dollar bill and poor self-control. I have enough to spare so please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Lacey nodded in agreement.

“Feel free to take a bath, there are plenty of muscle soaks and a few candles if you’d like to relax. If you need anything else, I’m only in the next room.”

He went to exit the room, but Lacey took his hand and pulled him back.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been a bit of a moody bitch towards you,” she said, apologetically. “You’re very sweet and I appreciate it. Thank you, Anthony.” She learnt forward and kissed him on the cheek, before pulling back and unloading her clothes from her bag.

Gold tried to mutter a goodnight, but realised that his lips weren’t working, so he quickly departed. Once he was out of the room, he leant back against the wall and put his hand where she had kissed him, trying to savour the warmth he had felt there. He let out a deep breathe that he didn’t realise he had been holding.

So this is what living felt like.

[stressedoutteenager]

Anything for the Bakkoush siblings

Biology, and science in general, is very interesting to Sana. She likes learning how organisms work, she likes learning about the reasons why processes, things and begins are the way they are. She likes learning all that because it helps her make sense of the bigger picture. Sana loves that but what she doesn’t love is the pile of homework her Biology teacher always gives the class. Essays to write, experiments to do and pages over pages to read. Sana wonders if her biology teacher doesn’t know that she, and every other student, has other subjects to do work for.

Staring at her laptop she sighs and closes it. Sana thought having the house completely to herself, silent, would help her concentrate. Actually, it did. But she has been sitting at the kitchen table, completing task after task, for about three hours now. It’s about time to take a break. Her brain needs a rest. She gets up, stretches and walks over to the window to open it. Her mother had closed it before she left three and a half hours ago because she didn’t want Sana to get cold. The problem: the lack of fresh air gives Sana a headache and she was so invested in her work that she didn’t even realize it at first. Her eyes wander down the street, as far as she can look from her spot at the window. Now that she doesn’t drown in school work, her thoughts promptly go back to that one thing she can’t stop thinking about. Or better said, that one person. Especially the absence of noise, usually produced by Elias’ friends, reminds her of him. Pretty much every Saturday, for too long to remember when it started, her older brother and his friends spend their day here. Even before they started that whole YouTube thing.

The absence of noise helped her study better but when she’s not doing that, there is nothing to distract her from her thoughts about Yousef. Spending an entire evening with him, just talking and with that getting to know him more… The way they teased each other first, but then could talk about such an important topic to her and obviously to him too and how effortless the transition was. Yousef listened to her and she listened to him. None of them was judging the other even when they were of so opposing opinions. Sana doesn’t have conversations like that with many people; she barely ever has conversations like that with anyone. So her inability to stop thinking about him is partly due to yesterday evening.

While Sana is still deep in thoughts, contemplating how to deal with her situation and weighing the options in her head, the doorbell rings. Elias has probably forgotten his keys. He left in a bad mood after arguing with their mother and his keys probably weren’t the most important thing on his mind. Sana still wants and needs to talk to him but she also knows it’s better to give him space first.

Lazily she walks to the door and rubs her eye. One of the ups of not wearing make-up. All that studying has exhausted her.

Opening the door, Sana is greeted with a familiar face but not that of her brother.

“Hey.”, he says at the same time she does. Sana didn’t expect Yousef. He’s only here when her brother is.

“From the surprised look I assume that Elias didn’t tell you I’d be coming over?”, Yousef asks, a small smile on his lips, his eyes trained on Sana.

To recollect her thoughts she shakes her head and stands up a little straighter. Yousef is still standing outside, just standing there with his hands in the pockets of his black jacket. The one he wore yesterday too. “No,..”, Sana begins and is very aware of Yousef’s eyes on her. “He doesn’t need to tell me that.” Sana notices Yousef smile getting a little bit bigger and tries not to smile too much herself. “But Elias is not home.”, she concludes.

Apparently Yousef didn’t know. He wouldn’t be here if he did but his eyebrows shoot up in confusion.

“Oh, he texted me this morning to come over around 5 so I thought he’d be here.”, Yousef explains. Well, it was not up to Elias if he could spend the day at home.

Sana thinks about it for a second, in which Yousef presses his lips together and waits. When they talk, he never pushes her. He doesn’t make her feel like she has to be a certain way or act a certain way. Sana tells him:“Eh.. Mom was kind of mad at him for spending the night out and not telling her where he was.. so she made him go run every possible errand.”

Sana thinks that Yousef should know this because he was the one to save Elias from a bigger catastrophe and called Sana to find a solution. Sana still doesn’t know why Elias got drunk that bad and that so early but they haven’t had a chance to properly talk. Yousef looks worried for a second. Eyebrows furrowed, he bites his lip in concentration. Sana cannot help but to notice it and get distracted for a millisecond.

Yousef starts talking and Sana quickly averts her eyes. She hopes that he didn’t notice. Usually Sana is able to focus, not let herself get distracted but when it comes to Yousef, it’s a little different.

“O god, how did it go this morning? I only talked shortly to Elias. He only told me that he’s going home and to meet him here later.”, Yousef rambles. He has his right hand at his neck and his gaze is fixated on Sana. Never looking away.

Sana doesn’t know how much Yousef tries to look at her without her or anyone catching it. Yousef isn’t sure how successful his attempts were because he assumes Elias kind of suspects something but he can’t help it. As soon as Sana walks into the same room as him, his eyes find her immediately. She is beautiful, everybody knows that. With her make-up and without it, like right now. As Sana opened the door, Yousef directly noticed the difference. Usually, Sana wears dark make up, it’s part of the tough-girl facade she has built up for herself. Sure, she is tough. But at the same time, she can be so innocent and cute. And Yousef likes her either way. More than he should, she is his best friend’s little sister. But at this point, it’s too late. He knows that he won’t ever be able to see Sana as just his best friend’s sister.

Even when he’s always reminded of it. The topic of their conversation is Elias after all. Yousef realizes that he was so deep in thoughts, that he probably looked her in the eyes a little too long. No, Sana is looking at him like she was yesterday. Smiling but trying to contain it. Always trying to be in control of everything. But once in a while she forgets that, like right now. The longer they stand there, the bigger her smile gets. Her dimples show and Yousef feels the need to cup her cheek but refrains. He knows his limits, her boundaries.

Someone, one of the neighbors, slams their door which makes both Sana and Yousef jump. This bursts the small bubble they were in. They always seemed to be in, when they look at each other like this, expressing more with their eyes than with their words.

Again, Sana lightly shakes her head. That is something Yousef has seen more than once and she clears her throat.

“Mom..”, Sana starts talking and Yousef blinks a few times to concentrate on her words, “.. interrogated him and asked where he was and such. You can imagine.” Yousef nods, which Sana shortly mimics. It makes Yousef smile but Sana looks worried and the small smile on his lips vanishes.

Sana looks up at him again and hesitates a little, before finally saying:“He said he was at your house.” Yousef nods again. He assumed that that would be the excuse and is fine with it. “But mom said she saw you outside… with me.”

Unsure what he is supposed to say to that, Yousef waits. Yesterday, he couldn’t care less that Sana’s mother interrupted them. He would’ve loved talking to her longer but the day they spend together was more than he had imagined for him and Sana. Especially, after his confession and her reaction being not talking to him for a week. Yousef understood, didn’t like it, but understood. That she felt so comfortable around him yesterday made him happier than he wanted to admit to himself.

Sana smiles. It’s barely there. But it’s enough for Yousef to notice. “I just wanted to tell you. I don’t want you to get in trouble because of Elias and I.”, she thinks for a second, “In more trouble than you already got because of us.” The faintest smile on her lips is gone now, Sana frowns and Yousef’s hand itches to reach out and straighten that worry line in between her eyebrows.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”, Yousef says and smiles at Sana. She is back to avoiding his eyes and instinctively he tries to make their eyes meet. “Hey.”, he says smiling and hoping that she’d do the same. She looks at him again and irks an eyebrow at him. She presses her lips together and Yousef knows it’s because she tries not to give away too much of what she feels. Yousef waits a few seconds, in which Sana and he look at each other. It’s innocent and playful at the same time.

Finally, when she looks him in the eyes, Yousef says:“Anything for the Bakkoush siblings.”

Sana laughs a little at that. Yousef can’t help but grin at that. Making Sana smile is one of his favorite things. She’s always so tough, breaking that facade for even a second is pretty satisfying to Yousef.

“Hmm.”, is all Sana says at first, smiling and with her eyebrows raised.

“Hmm.”, Yousef mimics her and also raises his eyebrows.

“Anything, hm?”, Sana asks smiling widely. Her dimples make an appearance and Yousef looks at them and back into Sana’s eyes.

Yousef nods, his smile almost too wide to fit on his face:“Anything.”

If somebody didn’t close another door loudly, Sana and Yousef would have been standing there, smiling at each other for who knows how long. Again, they both jump at the loud sound and turn around at the same time, when Elias says:“Hey.”

He was the one that closed the main door and walks up the stairs. He stops next to Yousef who is still standing in the hallway outside of the apartment. Yousef didn’t even notice nor care about that.

“Why are you standing at the door?”, Elias asks and looks from his little sister to his best friend. Elias has too many bags in his hands to carry and Yousef and Sana go to take some from him at the same time. Elias smiles tiredly at both.

Sana answers:“Yousef came by like you two talked about.” Elias nods, Yousef observes the looks between the siblings and smiles to himself. Even if everything goes wrong, Sana has Elias and Elias has Sana.

Now, Sana opens the door more and lets the two boys in. Yousef smiles at her while passing her and then going straight to the kitchen to put down the bags.

Yes, he’ll do anything for the Bakkoush siblings. For Sana, he’ll stand at the door as long as necessary if it means that she is comfortable and he can talk to her.

[angstbotfic]

Fic: Ak’tephari Prophecy Ch 67

Read at AO3

February 9th

“I confess I’m finding it strange to sleep alone after all those months with the two of you,” Maleficent said.

Emma, staring off the side of the ship, started. Then guilt rushed through her. “I’m sorry. I- I don’t know how to handle all this. They didn’t even want to let me share my cabin with Regina, and-”

“And the two of you are betrothed,” Maleficent finished for her. “I understand.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said again.

Maleficent blinked, confused. “Why?”

“I feel like I’ve abandoned you.” Emma stared at her boots.

“Have you?”

Emma looked up, because now she was confused. “What?”

“Have you abandoned me?” Maleficent clarified.

“No!” Emma insisted, immediately. “I just- this is all so complicated.”

Maleficent smirked. “Being royal is very constricted.”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying.” Emma sighed and shuffled her feet. At least as a soldier she knew what to do, and if she didn’t somebody would give her orders. They were about half way back to Silben now, according to the captain, and she was starting to dread their arrival.

“But,” Maleficent added, “It does have some freedom, if you can figure out the loopholes.”

“You seem to know a lot about this,” Emma said, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“While I concede that things have gotten much more interesting lately, I had a whole long interesting life before I ever met you,” Maleficent pointed out.

“That’s fair,” Emma chuckled. Then she grew serious, looking at the water again, hoping the answer had appeared there in the meantime. “I don’t know what to do about this. I don’t want to abandon you. But I don’t think I have much choice.”

“Why not?”

Emma shifted uncomfortably. “People expect me to only be with Regina now.”

“People?” Maleficent prodded.

Emma had the distinct sense she was being played with, but she couldn’t figure out the game. “The court,” she said. “And- Regina.”

“What’s this about me?” Regina asked from behind her, and she winced.

“Emma here was just telling me that you will insist on not sharing her with me,” Maleficent said, and she was definitely playing with her, somehow.

“No, I- um-” Emma stammered, looking frantically between them.

“And it’s truly a shame that she is abandoning me in such ways.”

“Mal, she’s gone all pale. Don’t tease,” Regina said. Then she slid her arms around Emma. “Emma, my love, Maleficent is a dear friend to us both. Do you think I would make you give her up?”

“No, but,” she began, then looked around to see who was within earshot and whispered, “sex.”

Regina’s chuckle in her ear was positively dirty. “As long as I get to play, too.”

“Really?!” Emma’s startled squeak drew the eyes of the sailors. “Like, at the same time?” she asked, almost inaudible.

“Oh yes,” Regina purred. “She has promised me magical toys.”

“You know, Regina, after our last conversation I was thinking, and if we each wear one-”

She was going to die. They were going to kill her. She was going to die. It was going to be wonderful.

**

February 17th

“Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been?!” Cora demanded the instant the doors to the private meeting room had closed behind them. Emma had suspected that something like this was coming, based on the stiffness of Mig—who was the acting captain in David’s absence—when he came to escort them, but she hadn’t expected the ferocity and simply froze with her head half-bowed.

“Mother, I-” Regina began.

“Don’t interrupt me!” Cora snapped. “We had no idea where you were, and then it turns out you were off with your street rat lover on some grand vacation!”

Emma winced, but didn’t look up.

“Don’t you dare call her that, Mother,” Regina shot back. “That’s not what happened and I know David told you.”

“Yes, David sent a messenger to pass on what you told him,” Cora conceded, waving her hand dismissively, “but I don’t believe a word of it. You left here of your own free will to secure the wellbeing of our nation and then you just ran off and left us to be attacked!”

“And Leopold’s messengers pleading for peace will have told you the same thing, and I know they arrived before us,” Regina said, advancing toward her mother, gesturing vigorously. When the Marnan Coast Guard had stopped the Rowan ship for questioning outside the bay, they’d had lots of information once they recognized Regina. The war was over, but it hadn’t been for long and the army was still making its way back from the field.

“Yes, but that’s not-”

Regina cut her off. “So you know perfectly well that Emma saved me from being a blood sacrifice to the Xan. And you know perfectly well that the Xan were going to destroy the entire world if she and I had not intervened to save it. So what is your problem?”

Emma took a chance and glanced up now that Regina seemed to be turning the tide of the argument. She caught King Henry’s eye without meaning to, and he gave her a tiny shrug. She suddenly remembered that he was the born royal here, and that Cora had a humbler beginning. You wouldn’t know it to hear her raging.

“We will never be able to marry you to anyone reputable now that everyone knows you have been running around fucking a commoner!” Cora hissed.

Regina’s voice dropped into its lowest, most dangerous register. “Oh, fuck you.”

“How dare you-” Cora began

“No, you listen,” Regina demanded, getting into her mother’s personal space now in a way that had Emma both terrified and admiring. “That’s what you care about? Not my wellbeing or anyone else’s? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You have to think about your future!”

Emma remembered now what Regina had said about her mother being very invested in maintaining her royal status since it had been so hard for her to get it.

“I wouldn’t even have a future without that so-called commoner, Mother,” Regina pointed out. “Not to mention, did you even notice that we came back on the Rowan flagship?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Cora snapped back.

“Did it occur to you to wonder why the king of Rowa gave us the use of his navy?” Regina’s tone was cutting.

Cora was caught and she knew it, so she tried to change the subject. “And what have you done with your hair?”

Regina ignored it and just went on, “King Ryain sent us home in style to prove to you that his daughter,” and she whirled and pointed at Emma, “was fully royal enough for me, and I’m grateful that he did, with this greeting!”

“His daughter-” Cora murmured, shocked.

“This is Emma Swan Rowan,” Regina said, coming to stand next to Emma, who tried to straighten up and look appropriately noble. “Born of Ryain and Ingrid, she is the rightful heir to the Rowan throne but was stripped of her birthright by the political machinations of her stepmother. During our journey, Emma retrieved the Sword of Mairin in the Water Citadel and she is prepared to present it to me as a wedding gift. Exactly as it was foretold.”

“A wedding gift?” King Henry asked softly, startling them all.  

“Yes, Daddy,” Regina said, her tone and expression soft. “We’re going to be married.” She shot Cora a defiant look, but Cora was still staring at Emma.

There was a long silence as Cora seemed to size Emma up. Finally, she said. “The princess of Rowa, and a hero who saved our princess, and who saved the world with her. That I can work with.”

“Mother,” Regina sighed, exasperated.

“And she’s also clearly crazy about you to risk her fool neck.” Cora shrugged. “It’s a good match.”

[celebritylive]

Michelle Williams experienced a challenging end to 2018. In December of last year, less than five months after sharing that she felt better upon seeking treatment for depression, the “We Break the Dawn” singer revealed that she and her fiancé, pastor Chad Johnson, ended their engagement. Days later, Williams took a leave of absence from the Broadway production of Once On This Island on doctors’ orders.

One year later, Williams came back in a big way: On Wednesday night, The Masked Singer unmasked the former Destiny’s Child member as the Butterfly.

“What better way than to emerge and say, ‘I’m taking my power back, I’m getting my strength back,’ ” Williams, 40, tells PEOPLE. ” ‘I’m going to be okay and start knocking these obstacles out.’ ”

Though she lost to Thingamajig during the smackdown round, Williams feels partially relieved to have her identity revealed. “It feels so good because I don’t have to lie,” she says. “I’ve been lying to my friends and family and the world since September!”

RELATED: The Masked Singer: Who’s Been Revealed So Far?

Williams shares how she felt throughout her Masked Singer journey, whether she plans to continue singing, and getting confused with the Fosse/Verdon actress who shares her same name.

Why was The Masked Singer the right choice for your return to the spotlight?In my time away, I didn’t have to be on. I didn’t have to sit in the hair and makeup chair and turn into this entertainer. I just felt like I was literally going onto the set, nobody knows it’s me and having a blast just being me. That’s what I will take into every situation is to be me, and whoever’s for me, you’re going to be there for me. Opportunities will be there for me being me.

How was your mental health going into the show?I was stable enough, but still a little fragile, but thinking that this is going to give me some strength. Because you can’t stay in your cocoon forever, you’ve got to come out.

You talked on the show about feeling insecure in your voice. What made you feel that way?It’s been that way for a long time. I remember growing up in church and how there was a lot of use with me there. I was very active in my church, very active with various choirs and groups and leading things and teaching at a very young age and sometimes you come into the entertainment world and they don’t appreciate that about you. Of course, I come into a group that already existed, it’s not like I’m a founding member, so it’s kind of like I’ve already got an “X” on my back. That insecurity started 20 years ago, if I’m being honest. And it just builds and builds because I feel like, I’m never going to be able to please anybody. Until you can get to a place where you’re like, “The people that are for me are for me, they buy my music, they support the shows that I do,” it might take you a while to get to that point.

Did you feel like you weren’t able to fully be yourself when you were sharing the stage with others in Destiny’s Child or Broadway?No. The good thing about being in a group is that you do have other people to lean on. Being in a group we had fun between the three of us. We had a good time and that translates into the relationship that we have with one another today almost 20 years later.

Were you surprised the panelists suspected you were Kelly Rowland?When you’ve been hanging around somebody for 20 years, no matter if I deny it or not, they’re looking at me like, “Girl!” Last night under my Instagram, Kelly called me out by my entire government name. I responded back. I said, “Kelly, you know we girls are the queens of secrets of reveals.” I want her to do the show! I actually hope that she gets the opportunity. I know her schedule has been bonkers, so I hope she does it.

Have any other famous friends been in touch? Solange or Beyoncé?Those are my girls! I love them to the moon. I can’t wait to see them. I head to L.A. on Sunday night.

RELATED VIDEO: Nick Cannon Reveals (and Sings!) the Song He’d Perform As a ‘Masked Singer’ Contestant

What’s next for you?I’m doing a limited run in a show called A Snow White Christmas. I go from being the Butterfly on The Masked Signer to being the wicked queen in A Snow White Christmas. We’ll be in Pasadena Dec. 13-22 at the Pasadena Civic Auditorium.  Right now we’re in Raleigh, North Carolina, until this Sunday.

What did you learn about yourself from doing The Masked Singer?I learned that sometimes we can let our fears cloud how strong we actually are. The majority of the time the stuff that plays in our head is lies. Lies can rob you of your strength. I also learned to not make permanent decisions out of temporary feelings. I don’t know if I want to perform again. Of course, I’ll do theater and all that stuff but do I really want to be an artist full-time? I want to make sure if the answer is no, that the reasoning behind it is not because of feeling like you’re not wanted in the industry. It has to be because you know you can go on and do something greater.

Does that mean you’re still figuring out your next steps in terms of music?I’m definitely trying to figure things out musically. I know the way we used to do music years ago, you can’t really do it anymore. It doesn’t have to be: okay, every two years you have to release music. If I want to get up in the middle of the night and write a song to a track and release it the next day or two days later, you can do that. You might be the type of free spirit where you’ll be like, “Hey you guys, I’m about to release a song tomorrow.”

RELATED: Kelly Rowland Denies She’s the Butterfly on The Masked Singer amid Fan Speculation

Have you been feeling the love on social media since the unmasking?I want to thank you all so much for the support and the love. That’s what we need is more love and if it’s moments like this that show people, love, keep The Masked Singer on forever. I had one person who told me that I found a new fan in them. Hopefully I turned some naysayers to believers. And I’m hoping people were inspired and encouraged and say, “Okay, she’s not just Michelle Williams of Destiny’s Child. That’s Michelle Williams.” In parenthesis, the black one.

Do people confuse you and the other Michelle Williams a lot?Yes! Especially when it’s Oscar time or Emmy time I get all the tags. Or if she’s been fabulous on the red carpet, various bloggers or publications will tag me. I just go right along with it. Sometimes I’ll respond and say, “Thank you soo much! I love that outfit she has on but it’s the wrong Michelle.” And they just laugh and say, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” I think she went to a Stevie Wonder concert and they were expecting me to show up but it was her that showed so they were like, “Its’ okay Michelle, come on in!” That would be a fun little gag to do if we ever get to do something based off of our names. It would really be hilarious on like Jimmy Fallon, something like that. Hopefully that could be something fun.

The Masked Singer will air back-to-back nights next Tuesday and Wednesday (8 p.m. ET) on Fox.

from PEOPLE.com https://ift.tt/2YkpHPH

[bouncingtigger10]

New Post has been published on The Bouncing Tigger Reads

New Post has been published on http://www.tiggerreviews.com/when-you-want-to-know-which-type-of-story-you-may-be-reading/

When you want to know which type of story you may be reading...

So one thing I like to think about when reading a story is what type of story it is. When I was writing (academic folks!) I found out there were 7 archetypes types of stories that could be used, but in fact there are many other ways of identifying which story you are reading – and sometimes it is fun to guess. So I took look at what authors think about story tropes or archetypes and found the following. this is far from comprehensive, but it is a bit of fun research. If you want to find out more then take a look at: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/Tropes and https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/MysteryTropes

There are sub-divisions of mystery and crime tropes eg:

Military and Warfare Tropes

Genre Tropes

News Broadcast

Murder Tropes

Crime and Punishment Tropes

The Oldest Profession

Monster Sob Story

Murder Tropes

Mystery Fiction

Mystery Literature

Mystery Story Creator Index

Toxic Tropes

Basic Mystery Classes

Criminals

Crime and Punishment Series

Crime and Punishment Tropes

Cops and Detectives

Detective Drama

Forensic Phlebotinum

Historical Detective Fiction

But I particularly like this list:

Absence of Evidence

The Alibi

Anachronistic Clue

Anonymous Killer Narrator

Anti-Climactic Unmasking

Beneath Suspicion

Blood-Stained Letter

Bluffing the Murderer

The Butler Did It

Cast as a Mask

Chronic Evidence Retention Syndrome

Clock Discrepancy

Closed Circle

Clueless Mystery

Condensation Clue

Confess in Confidence

Consulting a Convicted Killer

Conviction by Contradiction

Cozy Mystery

Curtain Camouflage

Cut Himself Shaving

Death in the Clouds

Did Not Die That Way

Disability Alibi

The Dog Was the Mastermind

Dramatic Curtain Toss

Driving Question

Eagle-Eye Detection

Eureka Moment

Everyone Is a Suspect

Everybody Did It

Evidence Dungeon

Evidence Scavenger Hunt

Evil Plan

Exposition Victim

Fair-Play Whodunnit

Finger-Licking Poison

Fingertip Drug Analysis

The Game Never Stopped

Hide the Evidence

Hidden in Plain Sight

Hidden Villain

I Never Said It Was Poison

Important Character, Important Evidence

Intrepid Reporter

Let Off by the Detective

Lights Off, Somebody Dies

Locked Room Mystery

Lotsa People Try to Dun It

The Meddling Kids Are Useless

Mistaken for Evidence

Mockspiracy

Mockstery Tale

Motive Equals Conclusive Evidence

Mysterious Stranger

Mystery Arc

Mystery Magnet

Mystery of the Week

Needle in a Stack of Needles

Never One Murder

Never Suicide

Never the Obvious Suspect

Notable Non Sequitur

Not-So-Fake Prop Weapon

Old, Dark House

Only One Plausible Suspect

Ontological Mystery

Orgy of Evidence

Perfect Poison

Placebo Eureka Moment

Precrime Arrest

Proof Dare

Public Secret Message

Puzzle Thriller

Red Herring

Reverse Whodunnit

Rewind, Replay, Repeat

A Riddle Wrapped in a Mystery Inside an Enigma

Ripped from the Headlines

Saying Too Much

Secret Identity Apathy

Serial Killings, Specific Target

Shell Game

Sherlock Can Read

Sherlock Scan

The Seven Mysteries

Signature Item Clue

The Stakeout

The End… Or Is It?

Stranger Behind the Mask

The Summation

Summation Gathering

Suspect Is Hatless

That Mysterious Thing

Ten Little Murder Victims

Thriller on the Express

Twist Ending

Two Dun It

The Unsolved Mystery

Weather Report Opening

Wheel Program

Who Murdered the Asshole?

World of Mysteries

Writing Indentation Clue

You Meddling Kids

You Wake Up in a Room

You Wake Up On A Beach

The Kurt Vonnegut Jr 8 forms/tropes of stories.

Kurt Vonnegurt is very well respected for his story analysis. He made a map of his analysis against time.

He made a visual mapping of the length of the story against the time inhabited by the story and the different ups and downs each classic/trope will take. Helps explains how when you feel unsatisfied by a storyline it is often because you are still waiting for the next point to occur.

On the other hand Ken Miyamoto, Produced screenwriter, former Sony Pictures script reader/story analyst, former Sony Studios liaison claims that these are the story tropes.

Coming of Age – Seemingly innocent (although not always so) youth experience the evils, trials, and tribulations of the real world. Stand by Me, To Kill a Mockingbird, Almost Famous, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, The Graduate, American Graffiti, etc.

Revenge – Our most primal instinct.  We see and read stories of revenge in nearly every genre.  In film we have Mad Max, Carrie, Death Wish, Once Upon a Time in the West, Star Trek II: Wrath of Khan, Gladiator, Election, Munich, The Counte of Monte Cristo, Hang ‘Em High, Memento, etc.

The Great Battle – An individual or group of people in conflict with others.  This ranges from epic battles (War movies, Lord of the Rings) to comedy (War of the Roses) to science fiction (Star Wars, Terminator franchise, etc.).

Love and Friendship – Love stories (Romeo and Juliet, Romantic comedies), buddy movies (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Lethal Weapon), dramas about friendship (The Big Chill), etc.

The Big Mystery – There’s a mystery to be solved, and the protagonist has to solve it.  You’re looking at classic characters in the likes of Sherlock Holmes, Tin Tin, Nancy Drew, etc.  Comedies like The Pink Panther series.  Agatha Christy novels.  Tom Clancy and John Grisham novels and movie adaptations.

The Great Journey – This theme follows characters dealing with trials and tribulation during travels… many of which are epic.  Huckleberry Finn, Apocalypse Now (Heart of Darkness in literature form), The Odyssey, Star Wars, and probably the best example in both film and literature, Lord of the Rings.

The Noble Sacrifice – The protagonist sacrifices himself for others.  Glory, Armageddon, war movies where a character dies for his fellow soldiers, etc.

The Fall From Grace – Showing humans going where only God should go, doing what only God should do, or attempting to do what humans shouldn’t do.  You look at films and novels like Jurassic Park, Splice, Frankenstein, etc.  And then look into science films like A.I. and even Terminator, where we as humans have gone too far in trying to create life… and it backfires on us.  Then into the horror genre with the aforementioned Frankenstein and even Stephen King’s Pet Semetary.

And Reedsy gives you 14 Fantasy tropes:

September 3, 2018

Fantasy tropes, like any other type of literary trope, are recurring images, themes, or devices that are used to the point of being common conventions amongst its genre.

When writing a genre such as fantasy (with such well-known conceits),  authors often feel the need to straddle a fine line: include too many tropes and readers will get déjà vu; don’t include a single cliché and you risk losing readers who have come to expect certain themes and touchstones from a fantasy novel.

The thing is, conventions commonly crop up in stories because most of them contain some element of universal relatability — and people enjoy the familiar.

So embrace the balancing act by acquainting yourself with some of the most popular fantasy tropes out there, and by learning how to prevent your characters, plots, and worlds from becoming a complete cliche

Character tropes

At their heart, all stories are about characters who represent some aspect of human nature — and fantasy is no exception. Many novels in this genre feature archetypes, which is not necessarily a bad thing — so long as your characters’ development aligns with the narrative arc and doesn’t rely on cliché pitstops.

1) The Chosen One

A character who is alone capable of fulfilling an important purpose, and whose responsibility is to resolve the plot’s main conflict — which will often be to save the world.

2) The Secret Heir

An orphan ends up being the long-lost scion to a royal throne. Often, this character is raised on a farm or another humble situation that contrast their true lineage. Maybe they lost their parents at a young age and sent away for their own protection. Perhaps they were switched at birth in some sort of hilarious misunderstanding. Maybe their mother had a summer fling with an undercover prince in her gap year.

3) The Evil Overlord

Fire and brimstone, darkness and inhospitable lands, the Evil Overlord usually lives in a realm that reflects their wicked intentions, surrounded  by their minions and followers. The Evil Overlord is also often bent on world domination.

4) The Reluctant Hero

The protagonist is thrust down the path of a story they don’t wish to be a part of. They long to return to normal life and only continue on their quest out of obligation or necessity. Think of it as the difference between Frodo (who wishes to return to the Shire but knows a task must be completed) and Conan the Barbarian, who relishes the role of rough-hewn hero. Often, the Reluctant Hero is also the Chosen One.

5) The Lucky Novice

This sometimes manifests when a character who has had never attempted a specific activity before is suddenly extremely talented at that specific skill.  Other times it’s presented in the form of a protagonist — who’s had a moderate amount of training — defeating the villain who has been honing their powers for years or decades (or even centuries).

6) The Mentor

Usually an elderly character who prepares the protagonist for whatever conflict they are facing. The Mentor often leaves before the big climax — whether they are killed, retire, or have to leave to carry out a job elsewhere — forcing the protagonist to stand on their own two feet.

Worldbuilding tropes

While the many subgenres of fantasy will all have their own tropes, here are a few worldbuilding conventions that you’re bound to see more often than not.

7) The World That Never Progresses

When a novel of series covers a society through the ages — but that world seems never change or progress. It could be a century later, but no social, technological, political, or cultural developments seem to have occurred. This one is fairly typical of high fantasy, which usually take place on grand, epic scales. ( and the one that really irritates me about Game of Thrones. Surely by now they have learnt how to fix holes in wooden doors!

8) The Pseudo-European Medieval Setting

A feudal system governing a society where taverns are frequented and duel-by-swords are a daily occurrence. The stories don’t usually take place in actual Europe, but a world that very much resembles the continent’s medieval era. This setting is a mainstay of fantasy — significantly solidified in the genre by The Lord of the Rings, but harking back to European folklore and tales of King Arthur.

9) The Powerful Artifact

This convention is used across all types of genres: an object of great power must be saved from falling into the wrong hands. The object is typically inanimate and derives its power from the manipulation of those who use it. The object might not be inherently evil, but its powers can have the effect of tempting and corrupting even the noblest characters.

10) The Homogenous Species

All elves are beautiful and love trees, and all dwarves are obsessed with gold and living underground, right? Categorizing entire races into a few commonalities is typical of fantasy novels, and if one character from that race differs, you can bet they’re an outlier — and often the protagonist of the novel (or a trusty sidekick). Another common feature of this trope is when one species is inherently “good”, and another is inherently “bad.”

Plot tropes

The Plot is the chain of events that comprise your narrative arc. Many fantasy novels will share a link or two (or seven) in common with other novels, including these:

11) The Waiting Evil

Long, long ago, an evil force is defeated in battle and locked away, never to wreak havoc again. That is, of course, until now. Having bided its time, the evil entity breaks free with an eye for vengeance. This Waiting Evil might break free of their own volition, might be released by an avid supporter (that is usually then disposed of — hello, Peter Pettigrew), or it might be released accidentally by an unknowing passerby or by natural causes.

12) The “Here Comes the Cavalry” Twist

All is lost. The villain and their minions are too strong and despite a noble fight, the jig is up. The heroes simply can’t hold off the opposition any longer. Time to lay down and die. But wait! Do you hear that? It’s faint, but growing louder. It’s… it’s… it’s the heroes’ friends, showing up in the nick of time to save the day! Hooray! Not all is lost!

13) The Black and White Morality Theme

The battle between “good” and “evil” is such a prevalent theme in fantasy — and it’s no wonder. When it strays to a cliché is when the line between good and evil is perceived as black and white, with no grey area. The good guys are purely good, and the bad guys are pure evil — end of story. Often, the good guys manage to defeat the bad guys without killing a soul or even wrecking a single building.

14) The Quest

The hero — and usually a handful of secondary characters — sets out on a quest with a specific goal. Typically the goal ranges from saving a princess, defeating a villain, destroying a corrupt artifact, or finding someone. The goal of the quest doesn’t matter as much as the fact that there is a solid one. While The Quest very closely resembles The Hero’s Journey, there are key differences between the two story structures: while the former is all about the character’s journey to achieve a goal, the latter is more about the character’s inner journey than the actual objective. [ https://blog.reedsy.com/fantasy-tropes/ ]

On the other hand Jill Williamson claims there are 145 (!!!) Romance Tropes.

abduction to love

accidental pregnancy

afraid to commit

all grown up

amnesia

antihero romance

arranged marriage

athlete

bait and switch

beauty and the beast

best friend’s lover

best friend’s sibling

best friends/ friends first

billionaire

blackmail

blind date

bodyguard crush

boss/employee

boy hates girl

boy meets ghoul

boy meets girl

break his heart to save him

brother’s best friend

bully turned puppy lover

can’t live with them, can’t live without them

celebrity loves commoner

celibate hero

childhood enemies fall in love

childhood friends

childhood marriage promise

Cinderella story/wrong side of the tracks

classes clash

clueless love

consanguinity

crazy love

Cyrano/matchmaker

damaged lead finds happily ever after

dark secret keeps them apart

different worlds

disguise

enemies to lovers

everyone can see it

fairytale

fake engagement

fatal attraction

first love

fish out of water

fling

forbidden love/Romeo and Juliet

friends with benefits

girl wants bad boy

guardian/ward

guy wants cheerleader

huge guy, tiny girl/ tiny guy, huge girl

if I can’t have you, no one will!

imaginary love triangle

impotent love

innocent cohabitation

instant/false sweethearts

it happened in Vegas

jilted bride/groom

law enforcement

long distance relationship

long-term lovers

love at first sight

love interest has a profession protagonist abhors

love interest reminds of estranged family member

love potion

love reforms villain

love triangle

love/hate

lovers in denial/ they’re the last to know

mad love

maid/janitor

mail-order bride

marriage of convenience

men in uniform

mistaken declaration of love leads to love

mistaken identity

noble rescuer steps in, She’s dating Mr. Wrong

nobody thinks it will work

not good enough for him/her

oblivious to love

older man, younger woman/ older woman, younger man

on the rocks

one night stand

one wants true love/other wants a fling

oops! fall in love with the wrong person (which could ruin everything!)

opposites attract

orphan

overly shy love

parent/childcare worker

partners in crime

passionate lovers

Plain Jane get the hottie

playboy

politics

pretending to be married or engaged

protector

redemption

rejected as unworthy/ turns life around

reluctant sex worker

removing the rival

rescue romance

return to hometown

reunion romance

revenge

rich man, poor woman/ rich woman, poor man

rivals/ protagonist vs. antagonist

road trip romance

rock star hero

royalty

runaway bride/groom

scars from the past

second chance at love

second time around

secret admirer

secret baby- He doesn’t know she’s PG

secret that can end everything

sibling triangle

sibling’s ex-spouse

similarities attract

sleeps with everyone but you

sorry, I’m taken

stranded together

student/teacher

sudden parent

the one that got away

time travel

tortured hero(ine)

tragic love affair

tragic past

two-person love triangle (involves some mistaken identity) ex. superman

ugly duckling

unobtainable love interest/ one-sided

unrequited love

unrequited-love-switcheroo love triangle

unwanted harem

virginal/innocent

wallflower noticed by the rake

was it all a lie? (undercover love)

widow(er)

(wo)man in peril

working with the ex

workplace romance

So you reads your story and takes your pick.. Have fun…