#he’s also incredibly eldest daughter coded…

[ronnyraygun]

Please please please read Spider-Man 2099 if you’re an artist sniffing for Miguel angst. It’s endless.

[asa-do-your-thing]

The rainbow trout

Robb Stark x Frey Reader 18 + MINORS DNI WC: 5,1k Warnings: forced marriage, mentions death, alcohol, dubcon, angst

You knew you weren't his first choice. You also knew what would happen, should Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, not accept your hand, so you did everything in your power to convince him to marry anyone of your female relatives. You sent him coded messages, diguised yourself and warned his pregnant lady... You did everything in your might to persuade him.

That was why it hurt you even more that when he came to the Twins and told you all to stand in a big semi circle ordered by your ages - you stood almost at the farthest end, having only just flowered - and he walked over to your aunts and older cousins, all past the ages of five and twenty. Everything within you itched to call out to him - King of the North, 'tis I who saved you!

But Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, was a man known for his honor and duty. He gave each woman a polite nod, exchanged pleasantries and, with a hint of discomfort in his eyes, moved along the line. You watched him as he went from your eldest aunt, Lady Amarei, a stout woman with greying hair and a face that had lost the battle with age long ago; to your cousin Alyx, then onto Waldene and Wylda - all older than you by several years and already mothers to their own broods, though you supposed it was pleasing for him to see their fertility.

The air in the Great Hall was thick with expectation as the Young Wolf made his way down the line of eligible Frey women. The flickering light from the hundreds of candles gave an ethereal glow to the scene, casting dancing shadows along stone walls adorned with the ancient heraldry of House Frey. The wheels of your father's great wooden chair creaked as he shifted his weight, watching his potential son-in-law examine his flock.

As Robb Stark drew closer to you, your heart pounded in your chest. Despite your best efforts to maintain decorum, your hands were clammy against the lush fabric of your dress. When he finally stood before you, his azure eyes met yours with an intensity that stole your breath away. His face was unreadable; he made no comments about your youth or offered any compliments as he had done for some of your relatives.

He nodded once before moving on to your younger sister - a girl who barely even knew how to keep her hair out of her soup bowl - and then carried on down the line. You could feel the disappointment welling up and looked up in amazement when he went back up to his previous spot. He... knew what would happen should he not accept any one of them? What was he doing?

Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, turned back to look you in the eyes. His gaze caught yours in a strange dance, akin to two foxes circling one another before withdrawing. He thanked your father, Lord Walder, for his hospitality and the introduction to his lovely daughters and nieces. His voice echoed along the stone hall, each word punctuated by silence from the gathered Freys.

"Before I proceed," he announced, raising an eyebrow as if he had just been struck by a sudden thought, "I would like to ask a question about a small rainbow trout." The hall fell silent.

Your heart leapt into your throat. The 'rainbow trout'. The code you had used so many times in your letters to him. You had used it as a symbol of danger, warning him of impending peril. And now he was using it back at you.

The question Robb asked was incredibly mundane in its nature for anyone else. Yet behind those words, there lay a hidden realm of understanding known only to Robb and yourself; its context spread across a plethora of secret letters exchanged between you two under various pseudonyms over the years. The audience stared at him blankly while your mind raced to pick up the hidden message in his query.

Just then, your innocent little sister nudged you and whispered in your ear right below a breath. "Has King Robb gone coo-coo?" You could hardly suppress the laughter that bubbled within you at her naive words. She didn’t understand what was passing between Robb and yourself and for that, you were both relieved and eternally grateful.

"No dear one," you whispered back, patting her small hand. " he's simply curious about our streams."

A hushed murmur passed through the crowd as they tried to comprehend the Young Wolf’s peculiar question. Lord Walder, from his high seat, let out a puff of irritation. "Is this a jest, Stark?" he asked gruffly.

The Young Wolf looked at him, his eyes hardening. "Not at all," he replied sternly. "In fact, it is rather important."

You noticed the subtle change in his demeanor and felt your heart flutter with anticipation. Robb turned his gaze back to you, the hardness softening once more into a look filled with intent and secret understanding.

"Your rainbow trout seems quite interesting." The Young Wolf finally spoke in his clear voice, echoing through the hall, carrying a message for you alone amongst the throng of confused onlookers. His words were enigmatic and carried an underlying layer of significance that no one but you could decipher.

The corners of your lips curled into an involuntary smile as you met his gaze and nodded subtly. You understood what he was trying to say, what he had so bravely alluded to in front of all your family members.

"And what would such a trout want?" asked Lord Walder impatiently. His sharp gaze pierced through Robb Stark who merely smirked and shrugged lightly.

"That’s for the trout to know," replied the Young Wolf cryptically. Before anyone could question further, he bowed courteously towards Lord Walder and then swept an arm towards you in an elegant gesture. "Perhaps your young lady there can provide me an answer?"

"Walderette?", your father croaked out and raised an eyebrow.

A big rumble went through the hall and you blushed up to your roots, not used to being stared at. This was pressure and you needed to handle it quickly and well - so well that your old, disgusting flea of a father would forget about this instance.

"Yes, Father?" You responded, managing to keep your voice steady, despite the thudding of your heart. Your eyes slipped towards Robb who looked at you encouragingly.

Your father huffed, "You'll entertain The Young Wolf's humor about our trout?"

"Of course, Father," you replied softly, your gaze locked with Robb's. An understanding passed between you two, an assurance that somehow he would make things right.

You then cleared your throat and addressed the hall in a voice far more confident than you felt. "Rainbow trout," you began, glancing at Robb who nodded subtly as if urging you to go on. "Is a delicacy in our rivers. It’s versatile and can thrive in different environments. It can be elusive yet it can be caught if one is patient and diligent."

The room was quiet as everyone watched you curiously. Your father squinted his eyes at you while your younger sister nervously bobbed up and down on her feet. He didn't dare suspect anything, or else your fate would be just the same - being slit open by your family.

"It is very good when smoked and lasts long, and it is easy to transport. It goes well with pickles-"

Lord Walder raised his hand and shrugged. "Yes, Wald... Walderette your name was, right? Rainbow trout is good." He looked at Robb, who gave him a relatively neutral look. "And you are sure you want... her? I have girls with prettier faces, bigger tits and that talk less nonesense."

Robb didn’t flinch under Lord Walder’s crude remarks. Instead, his gaze seemed only to harden, a touch of steel flashing in his eyes as he coolly met the old lord's gaze. "Aye," he said, holding your gaze again with a softness that contrasted sharply with the icy tone he had used for Walder.

"I'm sure." His blue eyes glittered with certainty and warmth. Your heart fluttered, nearly missing a beat at his declaration. To have him, Robb Stark, The Young Wolf, choose you in front of everyone felt as surreal as it was exciting.

Lord Walder grumbled something incoherent under his breath, shifting uncomfortably in his high seat. His gaze oscillated between you and Robb before finally settling on the young king with a grudging acceptance. He sighed heavily and grunted out a curt, “Very well.”

A murmur rippled through the hall, turning into excited whispers that echoed around the stone walls. This was unprecedented; a Frey girl chosen to be betrothed to the King in the North!

Your sisters looked at you with wide eyes, surprise and envy coloring their expressions. You could almost feel their piercing stares burrowing into your back, but you didn’t care. Robb had chosen you. And even though this was part of a grand scheme that remained secret from most, an indescribable joy surged within you at being chosen by him.

Robb then leaned slightly towards you, his voice barely audible above the hushed chatter. "I hope I picked the right trout," he murmured to you, a glint of worry in his eyes.

"There is only the one, my King," you reassured him with a small smile and breathed out once everyone went back to their seats - even the women, which gave you the greatest hope of there not being a massacre tonight. "Though if I find out anything that will hurt you or your... uh, friend, I will give you a signal and lots of likeminded trouts will help."

Robb nodded, his gaze fixed on yours. His eyes were the color of a stormy sky - deep, chilling, and deadly if challenged. Without breaking the eye contact, he whispered back, "I am looking forward to seeing what a school of like-minded trouts can do, thoug I hope I shall never feel the need to see them."

A hush fell over the room as Lord Walder straightened in his chair and clapped his hands together sharply. "Enough of these fish conversations," he barked, his voice echoing throughout the hall. "It's time to sit down for the feast. You're to be wed! My grandson shall be a King!"

As the guests began to shuffle towards their seats, you took Robb's arm and led him to the high table alongside Lord Walder and his newest wife. The woman, who was no more than a year older than you, was beautiful in a fragile kind of way. Her honey-coloured hair was bound up intricately with tiny pearls gleaming in between her locks. She shot you an encouraging smile as you both took your seats.

Throughout the feast that ensued, she would lean towards you from time to time, whispering coded words in your ear between bites of her meal or sips of her wine. "Remember," she once whispered casually as she spread some butter on her bread, "the pickles are of a dangerously spicy sort."

"Just the pickles?" You asked just as casually, keeping your gaze focused on your own plate.

She nodded subtly in response before turning her attention back to her own meal.

The night wore on with laughter and merriment filling the air beneath the vaulted ceilings of the hall. Everyone seemed at ease - even Robb appeared more relaxed now. However, underneath the surface, you were still fully ready to run. Your father was everything, but a honest man and nothing could fully guarantee your safety.

As the feast came to a close, Lord Walder rose to his feet with all the grace of a prowling cat despite his advanced years. "May I have your attention!" he bellowed, effectively silencing the chatter throughout the hall. He nodded his approval at the sudden quiet before turning his steely gaze towards you and Robb.

"It seems to me," he began, his voice carrying an uncanny edge that made the hair on your neck stand up. "That we're forgetting one important detail of this evening."

His gaze intensified as he continued, "These two lovebirds are yet to be wed!"

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. You felt Robb stiffen beside you, but your father's newest wife pressed a reassuring hand on your arm. It was, after all, part of their ploy.

A frail old septon shuffled forward from among the crowd. The wrinkles on his face gathered into deep crevices as he smiled warmly at you and Robb. He held out a red silken ribbon - your symbol of unity in this farce of a marriage.

You found yourself whispering vows under his quiet instruction, your voice choked by anticipation and fear while Robb's steady and firm words only added another layer to your pounding heart.

"And now," Walder announced gleefully once you'd both spoken your vows. "Seal it with a kiss."

Robb hesitated for a moment before leaning in, his warm lips brushing against yours in a chaste but lingering kiss. The hall erupted in cheers, and for a fleeting moment, it felt real - like true love had finally found your side, yet you knew that this'd be a farce. But then again, what would a loveless marriage be against dozens of dead innocents?

"Take the lovers away! Undress them!", croaked Walder and grinned implishly as a mass of Frey girls came and picked Robb up. Silencing his prostest with the smallest of nods, you, in turn let yourself be carried by some Stark men.

The crowd of Stark men was like a sea of shadows, each figure blurred into the next by the dim candlelight. The soft murmur of their voices was punctuated by the occasional chuckle or whisper as they carried you away through a labyrinth of stone corridors. The cold, rough-hewn stones beneath your feet were a stark contrast to the warmth and merriment of the feasting hall. The ancient walls echoed with tales of grandeur and battle, each echo ringing in your ears as an ominous forewarning.

With each step, you felt your heart drumming wildly in your chest - this was unchartered territory, a dance with danger and uncertainty. You stole a glance at the jumbled mass of Frey girls disappearing with Robb into another corridor, his eyes locked onto yours for an infinitesimal second before he was swallowed by the throng.

You were ushered up a winding staircase, its spiralling steps leading you to a chamber high above the ground. The door creaked open to reveal a room bathed in soft moonlight. It wasn't chained and barred like the dungeons you'd feared, but rather adorned with silken tapestries depicting intricate hunting scenes.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you entered. The room felt strangely comforting with its high vaulted ceiling and large canopy bed draped in furs. A lone window overlooked rolling meadows bathed in silver moonlight, their serene beauty belying the uncertainty that lay ahead.

The Stark men began to undress you, their roughened hands deft yet respectful on your garments. Your heart pounded in your chest like a wild bird trapped in a cage and only stopped once Robb came into the room, dressed only in a sheet that was held up by your giggling sisters. He quickly excused his men and gave the girls the same, stern look.

"Good night, little fish!", "Have fun!" and "Make sure that you'll make a king tonight!" were their parting words as the filed out, giggling.

The heavy door shut behind them with a reverberating thud that echoed in the silence of the chamber. The echo faded, leaving only your heartbeat to fill the quiet space. You turned to face Robb, his striking blue eyes filled with an uncertainty that mirrored your own. The bronze-toned light of the hearth danced across his features and played in his hair, casting him somewhat divine in your sight.

His broad shoulders lifted and fell in a heavy sigh that seemed to shake the very air around you both. The silence hung between you two like a tangible veil as he slowly approached you.

"We needn't…" he began, his voice gravelly and low – softer than you'd ever heard it. Suddenly, all of his kingly stature seemed to melt away, leaving behind only a boy burdened by expectations.

"I know," you quickly cut in, eager to relieve him of his discomfort. "I could just…" You trailed off, suddenly aware of the crude absurdity of your plan. But you pressed on, forcing out the words as your cheeks burned with embarrassment. "... just scratch myself open…"

Robb's gaze flickered downward before snapping back up to meet yours, a horrified look crossing his face.

"I mean... people just want some proof… or else... or else there will be talk... we could pretend…” You stumbled over your words, unable to keep eye contact with him anymore.

A moment passed where only the crackling flames dared break the silence. Then Robb let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly before he met your gaze again.

"You remind me why I chose you for this alliance," he said with a warmth in his voice that took you by surprise, his hand reaching out to gently cup your face. "You're willing to hurt yourself just to protect our farce, and the people we're sworn to protect."

His thumb swept across your cheekbone, drawing a shiver from you. There was honesty in his eyes - a rarity in this world of duplicity and deceit - and it was startling.

"You don't need to do that," Robb continued, the corners of his mouth curling up into a small smile. "We'll find another way. A better way." He let his hand drop, but the warmth lingered on your skin, spreading like wildfire through your body.

"Robb…" You began, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

"No need for formalities," he said with a small grin, trying to lighten the mood. "We're married now, remember?"

He was attempting light-hearted banter – an attempt to alleviate the tension hanging thick between you two, and it was surprisingly endearing. Still though, unease crept back into your heart. After all, what other way could there be?

"But they will expect…" You started again.

"We'll be careful," he interrupted once more. "And we'll be smart. Let them think what they will."

A knock resounded at the door then – a single, harsh rap that echoed in the chamber and made both of you jump.

"Shall I pour the wine?" A thin voice floated in through the heavy oak door, belonging to an old servant woman probably sent by Lord Walder himself to see their progress.

"Yes," Robb called back after sharing an understanding glance with you.

The Lady came in and hobbled her way towards a small table, filling two cups with a cheap red wine, one that smelled more like a tincture than a lovely Dornish Red. To add to that, she set down a small dish of pickles. "If you do not manage to do your duties tonight, your Lady sends this dish to bring you back to your senses.

You began to panic slightly and nodded at her, doing your best to mime an innocent. Walking over to the small table, you dismissed her and quickly gave Robb his glass. As soon as the Lady went away again, you stripped and gulped down the beastly drink, positioning yourself on the bed like a bitch in heat.

Robb, for his part, wore a look of sheer surprise as he followed your unceremonious actions with wide eyes. He took a deep breath, setting his own glass down on the table beside him before he turned back to you. His cheeks were flushed a delicate pink - a stark contrast to his usual pale complexion - and he looked almost boyish under the soft candlelight.

"Please," he started, his voice rough in the quiet of the room, "You don't need to do this. Not like this." His gaze was steady and honest as it met yours, and his words tugged at your heartstrings.

But your mind was filled with vivid images of Lady Catelyn's tear-stained face and Rob's pregnant girlfriend - their lives hanging by the thinnest of threads because of you. You swallowed hard, pushing away the comforting warmth of his words. "We can't risk it Robb," you insisted. Your voice wavered despite your best efforts to keep it steady.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his mop of auburn hair. But he made no move to stop you from lying back against the bed – your back cold against the rough fabric beneath you. He looked at you then – really looked at you – taking in your determined expression and your trembling hands.

For a moment, all was silent in the room - save for the crackling flames.

Then, without another word, he began to disrobe himself with an air of solemnity that felt too heavy for the occasion. He moved carefully, meticulously even, stopping momentarily to kick away his modesty sheet before he joined you on the bed.

"Lie on your back, Walderette. I needn't take you like an animal," he whispered solemnly as he made sure to keep his eyes on your face.

His voice was low and gentle, a tender lullaby whispered in the quiet of the night. It was an unexpected sweetness that only made your heart hurt with more force, your guilt gnawing away at you like a starved beast. But you nodded, complying with his request and shifting position, your heart pounding in your chest like a war drum.

A silence descended upon the room as he settled down beside you, his broad form dwarfing yours. His muscled arms propped him up as he leaned over you, his gaze never wavering from your face. You closed your eyes, your breath hitching as you felt the cool touch of his hands against the bare skin of your sides.

He stayed silent as his hands began to wander, their slow and deliberate movements adding an excruciating tension to the silence. He explored without hurry; his fingers ghosting over every rise and fall of your body as if committing it to memory.

You could feel the heat radiating off him – a feverish warmth that made goosebumps rise on your skin. Any other night, under any other circumstances, the feeling would've sent pleasing shivers down your spine.

"I…" you choked out, opening your eyes to find Robb hovering over you. His body pressed against yours in an almost comforting manner but it did nothing to dampen the guilt-ridden fear gnawing at your insides. "I… don't know what I'm doing," you admitted softly.

Robb's eyes darkened slightly at your confession but he gave you a small smile nonetheless. "It's alright," he whispered back reassuringly. "Neither do I, really. I've never... had to... take someone."

You blushed and gave him a shy smile. "I am not completely against it. Just... do whatever needs to be done and if we will not manage to create an heir, I am sure we will be able to do this... everything, under better circumtances."

“Are you sure about this?” he asked again, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes met yours, the steady gaze filled with an equal measure of fear and determination.

"Yes," you answered just as softly, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite your fear and uncertainty, you knew there was no other option. The lives of those you cared for were at stake. This was a small price to pay for their safety.

Robb nodded, his face a solemn mask. His eyes held yours, a lingering connection in the quiet room. He moved closer, laying his body against yours in a slow, deliberate manner. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, the rapid beats of his heart echoing your own.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, and you complied without question. His lips found yours then, a tender kiss that tasted of wine and apprehension. His lips moved against yours gently, coaxing you into a rhythm that was as haunting as it was comforting.

His hands moved up your sides, skimming past the sensitive skin of your torso to rest at the sides of your face. He pulled back slightly from the kiss, his breath warm against your cheek as he began to whisper words meant only for you. They were soft promises of safety and care; sweet nothings that melted your worries away like morning fog under the sun's rays.

In spite of the circumstances, the tension in the room dissipated at his gentle ministrations. Your body relaxed under his touch, fear and uncertainty replaced with a sense of security.

Then he was moving again, inch by agonizing inch. The heat of him was all-encompassing now; a comforting weight pressing down on you with each passing moment. You let out a gasp when he finally pushed forward – a soft sound drowned out by the crackling fire and rustle of fabric.

It was not painful nor pleasurable - merely an odd discomfort that became more bearable as Robb began to move with slow rhythm, whispering soothing words into your ear. His hands never left your body – one rested on the small of your back, the other cradling your face. His thumb stroked your cheekbone in small circles, drawing out a soothing pattern that almost lulled you into a trance.

The room had become warmer, or maybe it was just the heat radiating from Robb — every inch of his bare skin touching yours, filling your senses with his presence. You clung to him, hands clenched on his broad shoulders, fingers digging into his flesh as he moved with quiet determination. You kept your eyes closed, taking in every sensation, every small sound he made as time stretched thin between each heartbeat.

He smelled of wood smoke and winter air. A hint of the strong drink you both had shared still lingered on his breath mixed with the warm scent of his skin. Each breath he drew was a low sigh against your ear, a soft symphony playing under the rustle of linen and crackle of fire.

His movements remained slow and deliberate — no rush, no urgency. He was careful with you, maintaining a rhythm that was mindful and tender. His touch was gentle but firm, holding you close yet giving you space to breathe. His lips found your forehead once more, pressing a soft kiss there.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly once again, pulling back slightly to look at you. His voice was barely audible over the slow rhythm of his body and your combined breaths.

You opened your eyes to meet his gaze. His eyes held an intense mixture of concern and uncertainty, but also a strange form of peace, as if in this moment he had found some sense of purpose.

"I... am," you answered truthfully – Your body was tingling from the strange experience but there was no pain or discomfort anymore - only an odd sense of warmth... and maybe even something akin to contentment.

His gaze held yours, his expression softening at your words. A sigh of relief escaped him as he lowered his lips to meet yours again. His kiss was languid, unhurried, a complete contradiction to the rapid beating of your hearts.

He whispered your name between soft kisses and gentle touches, turning it into a sweet lullaby that danced with the crackling flames in the hearth.

Gradually, your world shrunk until it was made up of Robb alone—the rhythm of his breaths matching your own, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, and his whispered words filling the silence. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly; seconds turning into minutes and minutes into hours as you lost yourself in him.

When he finally pulled back after depositing his hot spend in you, it was slow and deliberate. You felt a pang of loss as the warmth of his body disappeared only to be replaced by the cool air of the room. His fingers lingered on your skin for a moment longer before he moved them away too. He didn’t look at you as he rolled onto his side, putting some distance between you two.

It was understandable, you thought to yourself. His true love was outside, in th tents, worrying about her lover, the father of her babe.

For a long while, there was only silence in the room. You could still hear the faint sounds of Robb's steady breathing and feel his warmth beside you, but there was a sense of melancholy in the air that you couldn’t ignore.

The embers from the fire were slowly dying out and you knew that dawn was approaching; still, neither of you made any attempt to speak or move.

Eventually, Robb broke the silence, "I'm sorry..." His voice was barely audible over the dying embers. He turned towards you again, worry etched on his face, quickly wrapping the towel around himself.

"I don't know why I did that... I shouldn't have..."

His words hung in the air, heavy with regret. You turned your gaze to him, seeing the anguish painted across his face. The light from the dying fire cast a soft glow on his features, emphasizing the shadows of guilt etched deep within his eyes.

"It's okay..." you whispered, laying a hand gently on his arm. "It was necessary."

But even as the words left your lips, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. You were both trapped in a situation neither of you wanted to be in. Each decision made out of obligation, not desire. It was a cruel reality, one that seemed determined to tear you both apart.

He looked at you then, his eyes searching yours for any sign of resentment or pain. When he found none, he let out a sigh, heavy with relief.

"I wish things were different," he said after a long silence, his voice barely audible over the crackling embers. "I wish we could choose our own paths."

You chewed your lower lip, contemplating his words. You knew what he meant. Your lives were dictated by forces beyond your control-- duty, responsibility and a looming war that threatened everything you held dear.

"We can't change what's already happened," you said quietly, meeting his gaze. "All we can do is move forward and make the best of what we have."

He nodded at your words although his expression remained pained. He reached out to take your hand into his own larger one and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Thank you," he murmured softly, getting up and handing you your dress.

"No, thank you, my King," you said with a small smile. "Let us leave this horrid place."

[sundrop-tetsu]

mike’s compliment

teenage!michael afton x fem!reader

the idea alone of michael being that cliche bad boy in school and you being the new girl in school who dresses however the fuck she wants regardless of the dress code just thrills me ;) enjoy !!

side note: based on a tiktok, inspiration arrives in the most funniest ways :p this is also a small drabble (kinda-) I didn’t wanna make this into a full fic so-

(c/y/c): color of your choice

a chuckle escaped your lips as you crossed your arms, your expression of disbelief staring back at your new home room teacher.

“what the hell is wrong with my haircut exactly?” you exclaimed, the lollipop in your mouth tainting your pretty lips red as you swirled it around

“you deliberately disobeyed the dress code rules. your entire hair is (c/y/c) and it’s entirely distracting!”

this time michael let a laugh escape, you noticed and a smile painted your pretty face.

mrs. reynolds sighed, “y/n, just please go to the principal’s office. i need to write you up.”

you blinked in disbelief, not actually believing a school in the united kingdom could ever do something like that.

“literally just because of a haircut?! don’t be fucking serious. what is wrong with you? if anything, you’re distracting the entire class just because you felt the need to comment on my awesome haircut.” you argued with her, sitting up in your seat, taking the lollipop out of your mouth with a small pop.

“it’s not just about the haircut! it’s you— you look like—” she paused, not finding the right words.

“what?,” you laughed, “I look like a what, teach?”

a puff of smoke caught you off guard before you heard his voice, “you look like a hooker”

“you think?” a beautiful smile pointed at him as michael smirked at you, nodding as you felt stupid butterflies in your tummy due to how good looking he truly was.

“that is not a compliment, y/n!” mrs. reynolds quickly scolded you, not believing you would basically thank michael afton for ever saying that to you.

“from michael?,” you questioned, looking over at him as his pretty blue eyes stared into your own, “totally is”

another chuckle left his lips, “hookers are hot”

“see?” you gave a small smirk to your teacher, popping the lollipop back into your mouth.

yea okay, so maybe arguing with your teacher about both your outfit choice and hair wasn’t such a good idea as you sat in the principal’s office with your mother.

the principal sighed, clearly hating his job, “mr. afton, please stop arguing with me. you’re here for a reason.”

“clearly not. according to mike, all he did was compliment this girl and she seemed to like it. so what the fuck are we doing here?” william snapped again.

mrs. reynolds noticeably gulped before speaking, being incredibly obvious of her new found fear of michael’s father, “it’s the comment alone that he said, it’s not a compliment. not to mention, this is the 5th time that michael has been told to stop smoking in class and it’s only monday!”

“what?” clara jumped in, she turned towards her eldest son, “I thought we took your cigarettes away. where did you get new ones?”

michael shrugged before shrinking in his seat, feeling guilty for worrying his mother, “sorry mum,” he apologized before handing her the cigs he was carrying for today. she nodded understandingly but still gave him a stern expression, letting him know this conversation would continue at home in a safe place

“that all?” william glared again, “there was no reason to bother us. my wife and I work very hard and to be pulled away from our jobs for a little problem—”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, mr. afton,” your mother interjected, “but I’d like to know what the fuck I’m exactly doing here.”

you held in a laugh, you’ve always loved how your mother handles situations.

“this is because of the way your daughter is dressed. we have a very strict dress code,” the principal began, “the girl was called a hooker. don’t you think you should raise your daughter better?”

a silence followed the room before your mother got up and lunged forward, slapping the principally across the face, earning a fit of laughs from both you and michael, a smirk from william, a supportive clara, and a shocked mrs. reynolds.

“how dare you insinuate that I don’t raise my kid well? y/n is a perfectly good person and daughter. fuck your dress code, she looks fucking gorgeous. now, was it michael who called her a hooker?” your mom continued.

“y-yes it was—” mrs. reynolds nervously replied, in fear that she may get hit as well by your badass mother.

“michael,” she turned to him, “did you mean it in a bad way or are you just calling her hot?”

“with all due respect, that woman could be wearing sweatpants and I’d still call her hot.” a small wink was thrown your way, those stupid butterflies returning to your stomach.

“y/n, are you upset that he called a hooker?” your mother asked you

“nope,” you smiled, “in fact, it felt like he said it just to piss off mrs. reynolds who apparently hates my haircut and my clothes.”

“okay so again, what the fuck are we doing here?!” your mother slammed her hand on the principal’s table, “change. the. dress code. you’ve bothered both me and the aftons long enough. our kids are fine and we all are great parents. have a shitty day, let’s go, honey.”

you followed behind, a smirk on your face as you softly waved goodbye to mrs. reynolds, “told ya coming from mike it was a compliment.”

before you could fully leave the room, michael grabbed a hold of your wrist, slipping a piece of paper into your hand.

“I’d love to take you out sometime?” he shyly asked.

you blinked, realizing that even though michael seemed like a troublemaker and acted tough, he was human and got shy when things like this happened. you nodded at him, leaning in and placed a small kiss on his cheek.

“you look like a hooker too.” you whispered before walking away, scolding yourself as you realized it sounded stupid.

“I’m sorry, what-” clara broke the silence, confused by your choice of words.

michael sighed with a stupid loving look in his eyes as he watched you leave, “she called me hot, mum. her, of all people.”

“oh jeez, michael.” william sighed, not believing his son would be so honored by a compliment like that

“it’s alright, we’ll fix it,” clara smiled, “our future daughter-in-law is perfect. let’s go, michael. we need new clothes and i can teach you how to be nice to girls.” she smiled proudly before taking her son’s hand and walking out

“are you all always like this?” the principal scoffed, still holding his cheek from when he was slapped

william smiled, the same smile he had given to those kids he killed a night before, “what’s life without a little glitched out experience?”

the look he had given both of them created shivers as william walked away, heading towards his beautiful family’s direction

[d011zk1ll]

Characters

(1. Name,2. parent(s),3.Sexuality/gender,4.pronouns,5. Miraculous, 6. romance, 7. Special talents,8. Future aspirations,9. Cooking, baking?,10. Siblings? 11. Oldest, youngest or middle?,12. Age,13. Nuerospicy?,14.love language,15. Fav color, 16. fav subjects,17. Glasses,18. Fun fact)

Emma/Feyline:

Adrien and Marinette's daughter

Sapphic

she/her

Black cat miraculous

Dating Anthea as Feyline

Incredible artist

Plans to work for her mother designing and drawing clothes for her fashion brand

Likes to cook but HATES baking

Two brothers

Eldest sibling

16

ADHD

HOPELESS romantic. Brings Anthea roses, chocolates, teddies etc

Fav color is green (Wonder why…)

Favorite subjects: art, english and theatre

Wears contacts instead of glasses

Random fact: she’s a major Neat freak

Anthea/Adalia:

Alya and nino’s daughter

Lesbian

She/They/He

Ladybug miraculous

Dating Feyline as Anthea

Stupid good at coding

Already works with her mother creating websites and finding information via hacking (CAUSE ITS COOL OKAY)

Likes to bake but HATES cooking (Marinette taught her to bake)

One baby sister

Eldest sibling

15 1/2 (Is literally so smart this motherfucker went up a grade)

Probably ADHD and Autism to be completely real

Also a hopeless romantic. On one occasion she managed to turn the eiffel tower’s lights GREEN for Feyline

Fav color is red

Favorite subjects: Computer science, Biology and chemistry

Doesn’t need glasses :3

Random fact: She likes music like james marriott, lovejoy and the crane wives

Kaida/Ryuu:

Kagami and Felix’s child

Aroace and nonbinary (MTNB)

Any pronouns (including neos and xenos)

Dragon miraculous

Helps other w/ romance but the idea of her dating someone disgusts him

Fences

Wants to be a professional boxer (looks up to her Aunt Alya’s older sister)

Hates baking or cooking

Has 2 brothers and 3 sisters (Kagami didn’t want them to be lonely)

Youngest child

16

Oh HEAVYYYY on the autism with this one lads

HATES ROMANCE FOR HIMSELF but LOVES helping others with theirs

Fav color is gold or dark red

Favorite subjects: PE and History

Should wear glasses really but says “Fuck it”

Random fact: Likes to pick up their friends and carry them around. Has picked up 4 of them at once with ease

Shelly/Chelone:

Myleine and Ivan’s kid

Omni w/ a preference for women and demigirl

they/she

Turtle miraculous

Dating Roxy as Shelly

art

Aspires to be a human rights activist

Loves both baking and cooking

1 older sister and 1 baby brother

Middle child

16

Neurotypical (MAYBE)

Not a hopeless romantic but loves to make homemade trinkets, cards and gifts for Roxy

Fav color is green

Fav subjects: Art and geography

Wears glasses sometimes

Random fact: Makes her own canvases and paper to create paintings about human rights

Roxy/Oxen:

Chloe and Luka’s kid

Bi and Trans (FtM)

She/her

Ox miraculous

Dating Shelly as Roxy

guitar

Rising rockstar (like her Aunt and grandad :(( <333)

Has set the kitchen on fire on multiple occasions and thats all you have to know.

Only child

ONLY CHILD

17 (stayed back a year like her aunt juleka because she wants to be like her)

Autistic with a sprinkling of ADHD

Writes songs for Shelly <3

Fav color is blue (makes her dad dye her ends blue every month)

Fav subjects: Music and Pe

Doesnt wear glasses

Random fact: Bases most of her songs off her friends, girlfriend or family

Apollo/Cobra:

Alix’s adopted kid

Bi and genderfluid

Any pronouns

Snake miraculous

Mutual crushing on Arabella

Building machines

Scientist and engineer like her mom

Kitchen ban.

Twin and younger brother

Eldest

16

Autistic as hell bro

Gives homemade jewelry while stuttering and blushing

Fav color is teal!!

Fav subject: Chemistry, bio and math

Wears glasses all the time

Random fact: Has caused multiple explosions due to her experiments

Arabella/Piglet:

Rose and Juleka’s biological daughter

Bi

she/her

Pig miraculous

Mutual crushing on Apollo

sewing

Part of Roxy’s band like her mothers

Best baker.

Kinda only child?

Elder child

16

No clue whats goin on with her my bro

Acts Just like Juleka

Fav color is pink

Fav subject: music, english and math

Wears glasses for screens

Random fact: Writes stories

Kit/Siyala:

Kims adopted daughter

Mtf

she/they

Fox miraculous

Not dating anyone

runnning

Wants to be a Marathon Runner

Has never tried to cook or bake and would probably be brilliant

Only child

Only child

16

ACTUALLY neurotypical

Just doesnt.

Fav color is orange or yellow

Fav subject: Pe

No glasses

Random fact: Likes to spin people around in the air

Alei/Melisande:

Zoes daughter

Aro spec ace (does eventually find a partner but when she’s like 25)

they/she

Bee miraculous

No partner

Film making (like her grandfather)

Wants to be a movie producer

Has never cooked or baked but would burn the house down

Triplet

Eldest

14 (brought up 2 grades due to her intelligence and social skills)

Autistic and has a mild case of OCD

Just doesn't

favourite colour: yellow

Favourite subject: art and theatre

No glasses

Random fact: her middle name is Andrea, a female version of her grandfather's name

Doe/souris:

Sabrina's daughter

Cishet ally

She/her

Mouse miraculous

Dating Billy

Creative problem solving and cognitive thinking

Judge

Cooks and sometimes bakes

Only child

Only child

16

OCD

big words to impress

Favorite colour: light brown/orange

Favorite subject: English

Glasses

Random fact: writes fanfic.

Bluebell/peahens:

Lila's daughter

Probably homophobic as fuck

She/her

Peacock miraculous

Nobody wants her.

Being a twat (she's decent at maths)

The next hawkmoth/queen butterfly

Only child

Only child

16

Neurotypical and it shows.

Favourite colour: orange

Favourite subject: maths

No glasses

Random fact: she's not really a dick, she hates doing what she does but she wants to make her mother proud.

Saber/Tigris:

Kinda roses and julekas daughter? They take care of her and she lives with them but nothing is legal yet.

Lesbian and gender non conforming

Any pronouns

Tiger miraculous

Her and Clover are like the sun and the moon bitch

Drums

Part of her “cousins” band as a drummer

Elder “sister”(Roxy)

Younger sibling

15 (moved up a grade due to separation trauma so she's with Roxy)

So much trauma from her birth parents

Favorite colour: purple

Favourite subject: music and art

No glasses

Random fact: loves watching movies with her real family (rose, juleka and Roxy) and they actually beta watch Alei’s movies

Clover/thumper

Alix’s kid

Agender and pan

She/he/they

Bunny miraculous

Her and saber are like the moon and the sun.

Sewing

Wants to work for Mrs Dupain-Cheng

Twin and younger brother

Eldest

16

Neurotypical but devotes hours of studying on how she can make his friends who aren't neurotypical more comfortable (cause she's a sweetheart)

Favorite colour: pink

Favorite subject: art and biology

Contacts

Random fact: she knows how to play an electric guitar

Pippa/Colt:

Max’s kid

Non-binary queer

Any pronouns

Horse miraculous

Not really dating anyone

Robotics

Wants to work for tsurugi industries

Only child

Only child

16

Autism bitch.

Favorite colour: gold

Favorite subject: computer science

Glasses

Random fact: built a bigger robot so marcov could help around the house, play board games etc

Billy/Scapegoat:

Mark and Nathaniel's son

Ftm bi

He/him

Goat miraculous

Dating doe

Art

Illustrator or animator

Only child

Only child

16

ADHD

favourite colour: pale blue

Favorite subject: Art

No glasses

Random fact: helps his father's with their popular mangas =33

mona/Valin:

Daughter to a florist and gymnast (they're so lesbians btw)

Lithsexual (someone who loves but does not desire love back)

She/her

Monkey miraculous

Girl she got nothing going on atm

Gymnastics

Like her mama, a popular gymnast

Younger brother and sister

Eldest

17 (held back a year due to missing 8th grade)

ADHD and OCD

favorite colour: light purple

Favourite subject: Pe

Glasses or contacts

Random fact: dyes her hair a new colour once every two months. Right now it's red.

Atticus/coq:

Son to a criminologist and a palentologist

Pan

He/him

Rooster miraculous

Hardcore crushing on Rex

Statistic

CEO of a major banking company

Only child

Only child

16

Neurotypical but like clover devotes hours of studying on how he can make his friends who aren't neurotypical more comfortable

Favourite colour: light red

Favorite subject: math

Glasses

Random fact: works as an apprentice for the local bank

Rex/Pouncer:

Socqueline's kid

Agender pan ace

They/he

Dog miraculous

Hardcore crushin on Atticus

Stupidly good at public speaking. Social anxiety is afraid of them.

Teacher of sciences

Older brother

Youngest

16

ADHD

favorite colour: light teal

Favorite subject: biology, chemistry and physics

No glasses

Random fact: works with Apollo to make inventions so they can help Adalia and Feyline as civilians too

and

Lila/Queen butterfly

She/her

Cishet

Puts unrealistic standards and hopes on her daughter causing her to be a wreck and give in to what Lila wants

Still a pathological liar and manipulator but less people fall for her tricks as Lila

More efficient and proficient than monarch

Still obsessed with ruining marinette

This has taken me like

4 or 5 hours helppp

[jasonsmirrorball]

hey babe i was wondering if you had specific songs that just remind you of jason? like some personal ones for me are mood ring baby by field medic (especially the lines i love you always/even if you’re bad news) and we’re in love by boygenius (if you rewrite your life, may i still play a part?/in the next one, will you find me?) and oddly ivy by taylor swift like i heard the lines and the old widow goes to the stone every day/but i don’t, i just sit here and wait/grieving for the living and just instantly decided it was a jason todd song lol anyway i’m just really curious what your jason songs are

i love this so much thank you for asking me because i have a fair few songs that are soo intrinsically jason to me that it makes me SICK to my stomach!!!!!

dream girl evil by florence and the machine. the idea of falling from grace and having been put on a pedestal, your image forever tainted….so jason. it’s an eldest daughter experience but it’s also just a woman experience. i think i’ve said this before to someone, i can’t remember but someone on tiktok made a video a couple of years ago about how he’s female pain coded and it put into words everything i’d been feeling but unable to express. i resonate so much with that aspect of his character it makes me ill

your age by rina sawayama. the entire premise of being betrayed by the people who were supposed to keep you safe and protect you??? hello??? omfg.

forgiveness by rina sawayama. “‘cause i’m losing my mind / sometimes i blame you / sometimes i don’t”

the world ender by lord huron. there are actually so many lord huron songs that remind me of jason but this one is so. vengeance and back from the dead …. and it’s just so. something about it is so alluring. the lyrics make me want to claw at the earth.

leave my body by florence and the machine. again, soo many fatm songs remind me of jason but i don’t want to ramble too much but the sound of this one genuinely feels like to me like how it might’ve felt coming back from the dead in a way? waterlogged, beaten and bruised, every step leaden and heavy, half mad. the drums in the back, the chorus in the background, “i’m gonna leave my body / (moving up to higher ground) / i’m gonna lose my mind / (history keeps pulling me down)” I’M losing MY mind.

honourable mentions that i want to expand on but can’t because my eyes are burning: breath of life and no light, no light. but the way florence’s music always sounds so holy/powerful but at the same time a little twisted…

ivy and jason….your mind…you’re so incredibly right. anyway these are my songs that remind me of jason in general! i have others but those are more self indulgent and in a self ship lens lol

[hirazuki]

Asks to Spread Love 💖:

A favourite fandom event

A ship or character that you started liking because of someone else (give them/their works a shout out!)

A popular character you actually really like and why

Hii!!

A favourite fandom event

Ah, I'm not too familiar with fandom events, as I don't partake in them. But I've heard people being excited about TRSB, so I'm looking forward to the art and writing that comes out of that :)

A ship or character that you started liking because of someone else (give them/their works a shout out!)

Hmm, none that technically fit that description that I can think of in the Silm fandom, but big shout-out to @ruiniel for periodically dropping Haleth/Caranthir on my dash (both their own fantastic works and other people's!) and reminding me I love them. They kind of exist on the periphery of my main interests (Angband, Maedhros, Nan Elmoth fam), so it's very easy for me to forget about them without outside prompting, I have the object permanence perception of a dog 🤣

A popular character you actually really like and why

Maedhros! I gather from all the various poll results I've seen, he's pretty popular 😂 His role in the narrative just renders him such a compelling character (I'm very weak for moral greyness/ambiguity, characters who commit actions that go against their own ideals, necessity/pragmatism vs. personal beliefs, characters who lean into the role fate/life has handed them even if it's the opposite of what they would have wanted for themselves, the whole wrathful and fallen angel vibe, etc.). He's also a character that is very personally relatable to me (very bad case of eldest daughter syndrome, moral code that is both incredibly strong yet extremely questionable at the same time, DepressionTM and ptsd that present in atypical ways, and strong older sibling vibes, to name a few!), so he's very near and dear to my heart.

[gromlyn]

Alright, I’ve been messing with this for weeks but it’s finally at a somewhat finished state. Here’s my Targaryen family tree from my asoiaf au! I have more notes™️ below

Okay so

Maegor dies in exile during a conflict in the Free Cities, so when Aenys dies Aegon the Uncrowned actually gets crowned

Prince Viserys isn’t tortured to death and later becomes a member of the Kingsguard

Jaehaerys and Alysanna still marry but don’t have as many kids (rip gaemon, valerion, and gael). Their first son, Aegon, also survives because Alysanne isn’t attacked at Maidenpool

At first Aerea is named heir because Aegon II doesn’t yet have a son. However, after she successfully claims Balerion her status as heir becomes permanent when her younger brother Gaemon is stillborn

Jaehaerys isn’t exactly thrilled by this so he consistently angles to betroth Aerea to Aegon

As a teenager, Aerea travels across the Narrow Sea and spends several years exploring Essos with Balerion. When she returns, she brings representatives from other remnant Valyrian houses she found on her journeys

Once she becomes queen she establishes houses Ellarys, Ranaerion, and Norreos as the reigning houses of the New Valyrian colonies. She betroths several of Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s children to these houses, which satiates Jaehaerys to some extent

Aerea gets really into her Valyrian heritage- especially dragonkeeping. With the help of the Valyrian houses she met in her travels across Essos, she’s able to bring about a boon in the number of dragons hatched, which also leads to the highest number of dragonriders in a century

This also leads to the first non-Targaryen but still Valyrian dragonriders since the Doom

Saera still flees to Essos, but briefly returns to Westeros after Jaehaerys dies. During this visit, her children are given the opportunity to claim dragons for themselves and are successful. They’re all subsequently legitimized and help establish Westerosi control of the Stepstones, Lys, and Tyrosh

Aerea rules for like 60 years and it’s mostly a good time (for the Targaryens. Aerea maybe does some colonialism)

Her daughter, Jacaera (who served as her hand for 15 years prior) takes the throne after she passes

Jacaera rules for another 10 mostly unremarkable years and is succeeded by her eldest daughter Helaena, who’s generally beloved by the realm

Helaena dies mysteriously (aka is probably poisoned) and is succeeded by her sister Aerea II. Aerea II is somewhat maegor-coded and fucking sucks. She dies without an heir and is succeeded by her twin, Aegon

Aegon III does some reforms (namely getting rid of incest)

His oldest son Viserys I follows him with doing general reforms but is also toxically religious

Viserys I’s heir Viserys II is extreme in the opposite direction- he’s lovingly known as the whore king. He brings back the practice of incest so he can marry his sister and legitimizes all his bastards

The legitimization of all of Viserys II’s bastards leads to a new crop of half-Valyrian noble houses forming, mostly through Viserys’ bastards who managed to claim dragons of their own.

At this point, Valyrian descent isn’t incredibly uncommon in Westeros.

The crown first passes to Viserys II’s first son, Lucerys I- a frail, sickly man. He only rules for 3 years, and is succeeded by his hand and brother, Aegon IV

Aegon IV sucks and focuses mostly on expanding the dragonrider ranks. His reign is prosperous, but unstable

He’s succeeded by his eldest daughter Elia I who works to fix her father’s mistakes. She dies tragically during childbirth

The throne passes to her younger half-sister, Aerea III. Aerea III is her father but worse. Her reign ends in a rebellion and civil war between the Valyrian noble houses

Throughout Aerea III’s reign, Elia’s younger brother Lucerys sees what’s happening and makes a concentrated effort to prepare for whatever might happen. In general he also tries a lot more with his kids

During the civil war, Lucerys’ camp gains the most support, and he’s eventually able to oust Aerea III and her children. The civil war end with the deposition of Queen Aerea, destruction of House Starfyre, and deaths of a majority of the participating riders and dragons

Lucerys II takes the throne and rules for 6 years- all of which he spends tirelessly working to fix the realm. When he feels he’s done all he can, he abdicates the throne to his eldest son, Viserys III

Viserys III is the current day king. His heir is his eldest son, Baelon

At this point, the following Valyrian houses exist across Westeros + Essos: Targaryen, Velaryon, Celtigar, Ellarys, Ranaerion, Norreos, Quothyr, Matheos, Vyrimor, Sunfyre, Quicksilver, Starflowers, Stonesnake, Blackscale, Goldreyne, and Muddragon

yes this au exists mostly so I have an excuse to design Valyrians + their dragons

[gpsoftun]

With shameless frequency, I talk a lot about how the woke and their over-the-top PC agenda are causing society's rapid deterioration. This time, I'm here to criticize the hypocritical 'marginalized' groups to which they cater.

At the news/controversy of a black Batwoman, a black female Bond, and all those other chicks who black-wash redheaded characters, these twats want to act as if we're living in an unprecedented time in film and television history. We are, but not for this melanin infusion that's been around and gradually increased for roughly the last century. No, we're living in an age of self-inflicted amnesia used entirely to keep hatred and race wars alive and thriving. Just because black audience members and their white guilt loaded allies flip out whenever one of these characters is reasonably despised by legit members of fandoms does not mean they're not full of crap. The majority of them don't actually care about seeing black characters on screen. How do I know this?

Try stopping by Lipstick Alley or any other message board for retro media.  They all look back on one 90s series with utter contempt for the title lead. A title lead who personified the strong character concept, who happens to be black and female. Don't bother searching your empty heads to figure it out. Here's a clue:

Moesha shares a lot of similarities with the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Both 90s series were set in LA with a black cast, prosperous families with college-educated parents, and focused on leads with vocal skills who would go on to become amazing actors despite starting off so poorly in their craft. Will Smith and Brandy Norwood, respectively. Even though Will's character regressed into a directionless comedic caricature, he's still remembered with fond iconic respect. Brandy's character? Moe to the, Woe to the.....

The show centered around HS girl, Moesha Mitchell. Her family included her father Frank, grade school aged brother Myles, and their stepmother Dee. Also, her childhood friend and neighbor, Hakeem usually joined them around the meal table. The family did not have the Banks' level of wealth but they still maintained a comfortable upper middle-class lifestyle and a nice house. We eventually saw Dee get promoted to vice-principal of the high scho and Frank open up his own car dealership. Moesha initially did NOT appreciate her father marrying someone who worked at her school. Dee's presence also bothered her because Moesha was close to her deceased mother and felt Dee was stealing her role as lady-of-the-house. As not only her birth parents' only daughter but eldest child, it's understandable why she would be put off by such a change. It took time, but Dee and Moesha developed a loving mother/daughter bond.

As bold an assertion as it is, Moesha was undoubtedly one of the deepest and best teenagers portrayed in television history. The later seasons of the show had maaany issues but none diminished the lead herself. During the 80s and 90s especially, most TV teens all fell into very black and white characterization. The good kids constantly practiced the best morals, would be considered nerds no matter how gorgeous the actors, and likely be some kind of environmentalist or take on some other lame cause. The bad kids got into outrageous trouble, almost never grew up, enjoyed all of the popularity, and typically did horribly in school to the point of wondering how they managed to dress themselves in the morning.

No box could possibly contain all of Moesha's many layers. Yes, she was an honor student and aspiring writer, but she was not defined by these details. While she did have a solid moral code, she got into plenty of trouble believable for a teenager. She was strong, intelligent, ambitious, caring, helpful, and incredibly independent. At the same time, she could also be overly brazen, short-sighted, stubborn, nosy, and too outspoken. All of these combined to create her unique awesomeness. Unfortunately, too many fans choose to only remember her negative qualities.

While better behaved and saner than her friends most of the time, Moesha developed the reputation for 'drama'. This typically manifested from her complicated relationship with her father. Like his daughter, Frank was a driven eldest child. His version came packed with testosterone to boot. He was very conservative and held traditional American values in regards to education, business, and home life. Frank adored his daughter, but they bumped heads so often due to their many similarities. Their strong wills and natural leadership capabilities in particular. Frank expected his rules to be followed to the letter while Moesha's independence caused her to work around this and hide things.

Honestly, she never wanted anything too bold or dangerous. She dated boys she wasn't allowed to, but all they did was kiss and go out together. Admittedly, she had one guy over while her parents were out for the evening and they got caught in her bedroom (he invited himself up there while she was looking for CDs). However, there's no guarantee she would have gone all the way with him. She never slept around during high school.

Probably the worst thing she ever did was road trip to Mexico without her parents' OK. Even so, she was in a big friend group and they all looked out for each other. Moesha even took the car keys away from their driver friend who wanted to drink. She lost them while dancing with a handsome native, but she called home for help and got the idea for Triple A. This kept her and her friends out of trouble. Her dance partner unintentionally got them busted when he innocently called her house to return the keys but still, she handled the situation fairly well all things considered.

Unlike Will, who typically depended on his uncle, Moesha usually tried to fix her own problems. When she grew tired of her father's frugality, she took on part-time jobs. More than once, the accomplishing thrill of making her own money caused her to neglect other areas of her life. This is the big difference between lazy and productive young people. Earning money is so satisfying for the latter that it's easy to get too caught up in it. Something certain adults never outgrow.

On one of these instances, Moesha believed a promotion at work qualified her as an adult. Dee convinced Frank to let her live as an adult and make her own decisions so she can see how hard it really is. During this little strategy, Moesha voluntarily wrote her parents a check for her share of the household expenses. This caused Frank to declare her a better adult than himself, just not to her face. This only stopped because Moesha started to miss her once-in-a-lifetime teen experiences. Also, her promotion did not increase her salary enough to justify taking on so many extra hours.

Moesha's biggest fault had to be her tendency to get overly involved in other people's private business. She did not do this simply for curiosity and a chance to gossip. Identifying a problem and instantly coming up with a solution was a large part of her nature. Due to being so young, she could easily act without thinking a situation all the way through. A good example is when she invited Hakeem's absentee father to his birthday party. Hakeem, having not seen the man in years, did not react to this favorably. Worse, his father never showed. Moesha felt terrible, though she had the very best intentions. She could only imagine the idealistic heartfelt reunion between father and son, not the potential tension and hostility that could have resulted instead. Since Moesha comes from such a solid family unit, it was likely hard for her to relate to the many fatherless black children out there. Frank actually helps rectify the sad situation by spending more one on one time with Hakeem.

Out of all of their conflicts, the worst occurred during the summer between Moesha's junior and senior years. Without giving her parents all of the information, she attended a coed sleepover with her friends. When Frank found out, he stormed over to her friend's house to get her, terrifying every youngster in sight. Once home, Moesha tries to defend herself by insisting she was not going to have sex with any of those boys. Frank is all too fed up, however due to catching that boy in her bedroom, that road trip to Mexico, and Moesha getting a tattoo on her stomach. His daughter thinks he's overreacting because she's not even a third as bad as other kids her age. Their argument gets so heated, Moesha stormed out of the house in her night clothes. Unable to see eye to eye with her father, she wound up spending the entire summer with a family friend.

This issue really illustrated how headstrong Frank and Moesha both were. If not for intervention by Myles, who desperately wanted the family back together, it's hard to say how long the estrangement would have lasted. The show did a nice job of not demonizing either of them. It's understandable how Frank would see her misbehavior as her spiraling out of control. It's also reasonable that Moesha would feel too unheard and dismissed by him to live under the same roof anymore.

Shortly after they reconciled, the family discovered Myles had been using marijuana as a coping mechanism. This isn't neatly wrapped up like an after school special, either. The Mitchells wound up attending therapy, where they finally unleashed their grievances from the last year or so. One would think having his sister home would be enough for Myles. That's not as great as it sounds if he's constantly worried one more fight will make her leave forever.

While a good family with a two-parent household, the Mitchells were anything but perfect. That's okay because most families are not. Growing pains, defiance, asserting independence, and arguing with parents are all part of the adolescent experience. All of these things fleshed Moesha out in ways rarely ever seen on TV.

Another crucial way she stood out is how the show and Brandy's portrayal did not reduce her to a cliche sassy/angry black chick. Yes, they addressed racism once in a while, but the concepts of victimhood and underlying hatred towards white people did not exist in the Mitchell home. While Moesha could get angry and downright threatening at times, she preferred talking through conflicts until someone pushed her too far. Her retorts came out as clever and unyielding as opposed to resembling dialogue from those abominable Friday movies. A nice girl but nobody's pushover.

What's really ludicrous is that while so much hate is hurled Moesha's way, the show's spin-off, the Parkers, is often praised. The Parkers was a show starring Moesha's HS best friend Kim and her mom Nikki going to college together. What started as an insightful mother/daughter show that preceded Gilmore Girls, devolved to the lowest common denominator. Kim went from funny and not too book-smart to being a cartoonish idiot to the point of wondering if the actress suffered annual brain damage between seasons. Nikki quit being the fun, loving but tough maternal force and warped into a deranged stalker completely obsessed with her attractive but entirely uninterested and repulsed professor.

While Will from Fresh Prince did not fall as wretchedly downhill as the Parkers, are they really what black audiences consider quality entertainment? Either low-brow comedy or angry, racism-driven drama? To this day, past minstrel shows are still reviled. I don't see why. They seem to be what the people want.

Don't kill yourself.

Do demand justice for Moesha Denise Mitchell 💛

[queencarolinemikaelson]

Ice Skating

Klaroline Bingo as hosted by @klaroline-events Prompt // Winter

/

Caroline Forbes was single, and proud.

Being single allowed her to go wherever, whenever, and with whomever she wanted.

She didn’t have to worry about checking in with anyone. She could stay out all weekend if she wanted, and she could stay in whenever she wanted too. She could focus on her career, and herself, and didn’t have to worry about treading on any masculine toes.

There had been a time where she flitted from boyfriend to boyfriend, thinking it was what she needed to be happy. But the older she got, the more she realised she was just happy being with herself, and if the right person came along, she would know.

So yeah, Caroline Forbes was single, and loved it.

But every now and then, as rare as it was, there were days she hated it.

On that particular day, for instance.

It was the day of the whenever-it-works-out friend reunion. A day when Caroline, her entire friend group and their partners got together to have a big, boozy lunch - free from kiddies and responsibilities.

Her friends were dotted around the country by now, so their reunions were rare. This one Caroline had actually organised, seeing as she was the only Chicago local in the group. They had decided on Chicago some months earlier, because some of her friends were coming to Chicago to visit their brother anyway, and it wasn’t much of a stretch for the remaining couples to descend upon the city as well.

Caroline was rightly looking forward to it, it wasn’t often her friends-who-are-parents were able to let loose.

So imagine her displeasure when, she got a harried phone call from one of her friends the morning before the reunion was due to take place.

Because, for some reason, ‘single’ seemed to be friends-who-are-parents language for ‘convenient babysitter’ when they needed time out from their rowdy young ones.

“Please, Caroline,” Elena begged. “The service we hired to mind all the kids cancelled. None of us have been able to go out for months!”

The blaring implication was there; Caroline could hear it in her friend’s plea.

‘Please, Caroline. You can be stuck with children for one day. Going out doesn’t mean as much to you.’

Caroline had been an odd mix of hurt, and – dare she say it – relieved that she was being shouldered out of lunch, because her friends-who-are-parents needed a babysitter.

She was hurt for obvious reasons. Didn’t matter that she wanted to hang with them.  Didn’t matter that she organised the reunion. Didn’t matter that it was her rallying that got them all together. She was the most expendable. Because she was single, she wasn’t a mother; she didn’t need it as much.

But she was relieved because, no matter how much happy she was living her single life, her coupled-off friends usually couldn’t manage to keep their opinions of her singlehood to themselves.

She bitterly rolled her eyes, thinking about how they would like it if she passed comment on their lifestyles with kids, made judgements about their marriages.

“Fine, but you better remember this next time you ask me why I’m still single,” Caroline agreed, haughtily. “And I expect a pretty awesome Christmas present.”

On the morning of the reunion, her small, not-particularly-kid-proof apartment was over run by her five excitable nieces and nephews, and their eight excited-looking parents.

“We can’t thank you enough,” Bonnie gushed, happily, as she stepped through her front door, beginning the slew of compliments for Caroline’s selflessness.

“Care, this is so amazing,” Jeremy said, appreciatively.

“Caroline, you’re a lifesaver,” Elena grinned, gratefully.

“Yeah, barbie, love your work,” Damon quipped, sardonically.

“Care, you truly are the best friend,” Rebekah smiled, thankfully.

“Yeah, Caroline, I know you’ve been looking forward to today as well,” Stefan thanked, profusely.

“We are very much in your debt,” Elijah nodded, graciously.

“I don’t know what all you are on about, Caroline is the reason these things are fun, and you’re making her babysit your kids!” Katherine griped, but threw her friend a relieved smile.

“Not a problem, guys,” Caroline said, with all the grace she could muster. “Now, how are my favourite rugrats!”

The five children chorused their enthusiasm in exuberant cacophony, making all nine adults smile widely at the cuteness.

Before too long, however, eight of the nine adults took their leave, leaving Caroline to wrangle the little ones on her own.

Now, Caroline may not have been a mother, but she knew her way around children.

She babysat her way through high school, then nannied her way through university. Plus, the first baby had been born into the group less than a year after college ended. Plus, Caroline had known all these children since they were born, and just as she was the cool friend in the group, she was the cool aunty.

That experience, coupled with her unrivalled ability to plan the perfect day for any group, Caroline knew the day with the kids would go off without a hitch.

She had every activity planned out, and every item she’d need for each activity in colour coded boxes. She’d only had a day’s lead time, or else she’d have sent each parent a list of things they should pack, to ensure best-day-ever status from the children.

Though, minding all five at once was getting more challenging as the two eldest, Jeremy and Bonnie’s, Rowan, and Elena and Damon’s, Jessamy, were now ten, so endless craft activities didn’t hold the magic it once did.

But never fear, Caroline set up stations for the children to run between, which included every winter activity she could think of; paper snowflake cutting, drawing, Twister, and, the group favourite, gingerbread house decorating.

Each child chipped in making lasagne for lunch, and laughed their way through a team challenge of baking chocolate chip cookies.

They all watched a movie after lunch, munching on their cookies and gingerbread. But by the time 4pm rolled around the kids began to get fidgety, and the lack of a back yard on her apartment suddenly became and issue.

Never fear, however, because Caroline had a contingency for this, as she had for every eventuality.

“All right, kids,” she called, clapping her hands together to get their attention. “Jackets, shoes and socks on, please, we’re going on a special trip. But you have to promise to be extra good okay?”

While the kids eagerly donned their outwear, Caroline quickly shoved snacks, and two thermos’ of hot chocolate into a big bag, before donning her jacket, scarf, hat, and gloves. 

“Let’s go ice skating!”

xxx

“Okay everyone!” Caroline called, as all five kids stood with their feet all clad in skating gear. “Are we excited?”

A squealed response later, Caroline gave them her brightest smile and the green light to take off.

She knew she was taking a bit of a risk with this trip, but she also knew Bonnie and Jeremy took their kids skating often so she wasn’t worried when the two youngest Gilberts, Rowan and Penny, took off immediately. Elena and Damon’s daughter, Jessamy, was a little less confident, but it didn’t take long before she was off after her cousins in a flurry of snow. Stefan and Rebekah’s, Jamie, was also already quite the competent skater, which left Meg, the youngest of the cousins, to tentatively cling to Caroline’s hands as her wobbly skating legs took to the new activity.

But before much longer, even Meg was chasing after her older cousins, just leaving Caroline to grip the railing at the edge of the rink.

“Come on Aunty Care!” Jessamy shouted, excitedly. “You have to skate too! We need six if we want to play this game!”

Caroline felt a wave of trepidation cross over her, she was content staying stationary, thank you very much. She may have been an incredible cheerleader in her day, but that skill did not translate to skating ability. That was a lesson she’d learnt the hard way on her first college date, where she had ended up with concussion and a broken arm as a result.

“Umm, I’m not very good at skating, guys. Can I just watch?”

“No!” came the rousing protestation.

And Caroline, of course, obliged, unable to bear their sad, puppy dog faces for longer than a few moments.

“Fine,” she groaned, cursing herself internally for taking them skating when she knew full well she couldn’t skate.

Caroline shakily put her legs onto the ice, and immediately began to wobble. Rowan and Jamie took her hands encouragingly, and pulled her further onto the ice.

And right as Rowan let go of her hand, Caroline felt a figure zoom past her, too big and too fast to be one of her group, and she cursed the blasted skating trip again, as all hell broke loose.

Caroline’s legs tangled up with Jamie’s and they crashed to the ground. Penny fell onto her knees trying to stop herself crashing into them, leaving Jessamy to crash into her. From there, Meg started to cry seeing all her family in a confusing muddle on the ice, and the Gilbert siblings took it upon themselves to start yelling about whose fault it was.  

Caroline cursed the damn trip a third time, as she contemplated the complete impossibility of scrambling to her feet – because, did she mention, she was terrible at skating – while in the middle of a clusterfork of wailing, potentially injured children.

Then an unfamiliar voice joined the ruckus.

“Do you need a little help, love?”

Caroline froze.

The kids froze.

“Excuse me?” Caroline asked, as she stared at the man who was intruding on quite an embarrassing moment.

He was god-tier-handsome, and Caroline nearly rolled her eyes that this would be the way she met someone who looked like him.

“I asked if you needed a little help, love?” the man repeated. “After all, it’s not everyday a beauty, such as yourself, falls – quite literally – at my feet?”

The flustered Caroline balked at the absolute gall of this man. Sure, he was hot, but ‘a beauty falls at my feet’.

J

E

R

K

That was for sure.

“Now you listen here, buddy –”

She was about to give him a true fairly uncensored piece of her mind, but was cut off when Jamie suddenly cut over top of her.

“Uncle Klaus?

The man’s somewhat smug-and-charming smirk was replaced with a look of confusion.

“Jamie Mikaelson, why are out here all by yourself?”

“But he’s not by himself, Uncle Klaus!” the boy’s cousin cried. “I’m here too!”

“And me!”

“Me too!”

Klaus was suddenly quite squeamish to note every single one of his nieces and nephews were in the pile of small children he had vaguely noted when he stopped to chivalrously aid the blonde beauty who had toppled on the ice.

And he had to admit it was not ideal.

Sure, he loved his family, and fully intended showing up as the cool uncle when they were older – but he was not good with kids at all, and was at a loss with how to proceed.

“Wait, you’re Klaus Mikaelson?” the blonde asked, as she began struggling to her feet.

“That would be me,” he replied, weakly. 

“But why the… why are you… oh my gosh!”

In her attempts to clamber up and talk at the same time, Caroline planted her ass firmly on the ice again with an unceremonious ‘ooof’ – much to the amusement of the little ones surrounding them.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up,” Caroline grumbled. “Come on, we should try and get up. Why don’t we take a break? I packed some hot chocolate for us to drink.

The kids agreed without too much fuss, the older ones helping the younger ones to their feet and skating to the edge.

“Do you need some help, sweetheart,” Klaus asked, as Caroline still struggled.

“I’m good,” Caroline said stubbornly, proceeding to struggle for another minute.

“Do you need some help?” Klaus asked again, this time with a cool, quirked eyebrow.

She just threw him a disgruntled look, but stuck out her arms for him to take nonetheless.

When she found her balance, she kept her hand squeezed tight to Klaus’ forearm, much to his enjoyment.

In the short skate from the centre of the rink, where the incident occurred, to the edge, Klaus got his kicks by unbalancing Caroline, to provoke the small whinge from her throat, and the tightening on her grip on his arm.

When they made it to blessedly dry land again, Caroline jumped back into babysitter-mode, passing each child a steaming drink and telling them not to stray too far away, before turning her attention back to Klaus.

“Why the hell did you barrel me over on the ice?”

“I did no such thing, love!” he replied indignantly. “You were the one to strayed into my path.”

“That is so not how it happened!” Caroline cried. “Why are you here anyhow, aren’t you some big grouch who hates fun?”

“Is that what they say about me is it,” Klaus said, waspishly. “I’ll have you know, that I am perfectly fun, thank you very much. And I quite enjoy outdoor ice-skating. We did it lots when we were children, and my siblings visiting reminded me of that.”

“How sweet,” Caroline said mockingly, though she noted the slight change in mood, and the wistful look on his face. “Wait, you went skating because you’ll miss them?

Klaus didn’t say anything, but his ears reddened, and she knew she had hit the mark.

“I’m Caroline, by the way,” she said, changing the subject.

“Klaus.”

“I had worked that out.”

“Why are you here, Caroline?” Klaus asked. “Didn’t you organise some great catch-up?”

“Well I did, but the sitter bailed,” Caroline said. “And you know, I’m the only child-free friend, so…”

“I see,” Klaus replied.

“Caroline, can we go back on the ice,” Penny whined.

“Oh, sure thing, sweetie,” Caroline said. “Take care of the little ones though, okay, I’m not going to go out this time.”

“But Aunty Caroline, you gotta,” Jessamy sulked.

“Please Caroline!”

“You have to!”

“I’m so bad at skating,” Caroline implored, for some reason, looking at Klaus, hoping he’d back her up.

“Why doesn’t Uncle Klaus teach you!” Rowan said, ever the pragmatist. “He’s a grown up! Grown ups are good teachers!”

“Well, doesn’t that sound like fun,” Klaus said, that smug-and-charming smirk coming back to his lips in full force.

“Yeah! Then we can have seven players for the game! That will be even better!” Rowan cried. “Come on!” 

With that, the eldest cousin was off, and all the younger ones following closely behind.

“Please, you really don’t have to do this,” Caroline said nervously, even as she got to her feet to follow the children at a slower pace.

“Oh I think I do,” Klaus said. “The children have spoken.”

“But…”

“No buts, Caroline, my nieces and nephews don’t take no for an answer,” he said, then leaned in to whisper almost seductively into her ear. “Neither do I.”

She couldn’t help the tingle that ran through her body at that, nor the wry curl beginning on her lips.

It wasn’t too long before Klaus’ out stretched hand was closing on her own, and he was pulling her onto the ice, teaching her the basics. And less time still before he was settling his hands on her waist behind her to help her ‘keep her balance’.

“You move quickly, don’t you,” she quipped.

“Only when I know I’ve got something worth moving for.”

It was only another ten minutes until the kids found their aunt and uncle, and demanded they join in their complicated skating game. And then just an hour before they were back at her apartment, having skated themselves completely exhausted. And then only thirty minutes before the parents were back.

It was only a few minutes after they all arrived that they found out that Klaus had joined them for skating. And then only a few of seconds before Katherine made a semi-drunk, very-lewd comment about Caroline and Klaus sitting in some sort of plant, doing some sort of natural act together.

And she wasn’t far off the mark, for it was only a day later when Caroline heard from Klaus.

And only the day after that when they went on their first date.

 /

Hope you like! Happy Klaroline bingo!! xoxo

[birdsthatsingaftermidnight]

Monarch #7

Who: Æthelred II (Old English: Æþelræd) Also Known As:  Æthelred the Unready (his epithet does not derive from the modern word "unready", but rather from the Old English unræd meaning "poorly advised"; it is a pun on his name, which means "well-advised") Where: England Succeeded: His brother, Edward Reigned: 978-1013 and again from 1014-1016 Born: c.966 Died: 23rd April, 1016 (aged around 50), London Buried: Old St Paul’s Cathedral, London (lost) Consorts/Children: First married Ælfgifu of York, sometime in the mid-980s, and she was definitely dead by 1002.  With Æthelred she had at least nine children, possibly ten.  Second, he married Emma of Normandy in 1002, with whom he had three children.

Æthelred Facts! Æthelred’s (combined) reign of 37 years was the longest of any Anglo-Saxon king of England, and was only surpassed in the 13th century by Henry III.  

He came to the throne aged 12, after his mother may or may not have had his older half-brother, Edward, murdered.  It’s pretty much accepted that he was far too young to have been involved.  

This is the moment that the Danish started being seriously problematic.  After decades of more-or-less peace, the Danish raids restarted in 980 and how.  After the Battle of Maldon in 991,  Æthelred paid tribute to the Danish king called Danegeld, intended to bribe him into going the heck away.  

This didn’t work.  So, in 1002, Æthelred ordered the massacre of Danish settlers in what became known as the St Brice’s Day massacre.   Supposed amongst the killed is Gunhilde, the sister of Sweyn Forkbeard, the King of Denmark.   Æthelred justified the massacre in a royal charter of 1004, explaining the need to rebuild Saint Frideswide’s church[1].

Gunhilde may or may not have died then, but it was given as a justification of Sweyn’s invasion of England in 1013 (maybe it took nine years for him to build up both an army and a really good snit over it).   Æthelred ran away to Normandy, and Sweyn Forkbeard ruled for a few months before dying.   Æthelred then came back and ruled until he died, two years later. 

Æthelred has been credited with the formation of a local investigative body made up of twelve thegns who were charged with publishing the names of any notorious or wicked men in their respective districts. Because the members of these bodies were under solemn oath to act in accordance with the law and their own good consciences, they have been seen by some legal historians as the prototype for the English grand jury. Æthelred makes provision for such a body in a law code he enacted at Wantage in 997, which states:

that there shall be an assembly in every wapentake,[n 4] and in that assembly shall go forth the twelve eldest thegns and the reeve along with them, and let them swear on holy relics, which shall be placed in their hands, that they will never knowingly accuse an innocent man nor conceal a guilty man. And thereafter let them seize those notorious [lit. "charge-laden"] men, who have business with the reeve, and let each of them give a security of 6 half-marks, half of which shall go to the lord of that district, and half to the wapentake.[3]

The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle is incredibly critical of Æthelred, but was written in retrospect and could be seen as to be judging his policies and actions with the foregone conclusion that he was always doomed to lose to the Danish.  There have been some arguments in favour of Æthelred made, and indeed recent assessments have cautiously come down in favour of him.   "Æthelred's misfortune as a ruler was owed not so much to any supposed defects of his imagined character, as to a combination of circumstances which anyone would have found difficult to control.”[4]

Ælfgifu of York Facts! We think she was born in the 970s and died before 1002, when Æthelred remarried.   She might have been the daughter of Thored, the Earl of southern Northumbria.   The problem here is that what we know of her comes from sources written in the 1080s and afterwards.  The first (from Sulcard of Winchester) describes her as being “of very noble English stock” but declines to name her.  William of Malmesbury, writing in the 12th century has nothing to say of her at all, whilst in the 1150s, Ailred of Rievaulx notes her as the daughter of Thored and mother of Edmund, but again does not name her.  Even though he was writing so late, he was the seneschal at the court of the Scottish king David I, whose mother Margerat was the great-granddaugther of Ælfgifu and his information may have come to him through genuine sources.   And that is pretty much all we know about her, apart from the names of her children.  Even her date of birth and the date of her marriage is supposed based on what we know about her sons.  Of her daughters we have very little information, even some of their names are vague, and there is one who is posited, unnamed, and cannot be confirmed. 

Æthelstan Ætheling (died 1014)

Ecgberht Ætheling (died c. 1005)[40]

Edmund Ironside (King of England, died 1016)

Eadred Ætheling (died before 1013)

Eadwig Ætheling (executed by Cnut 1017)

Edgar Ætheling (died c. 1008)

Eadgyth or Edith (married Eadric Streona) v

Wulfhild? (married Ulfcytel Snillingr)

Abbess of Wherwell Abbey?

Emma of Normandy Facts! As queen of England, Emma wasn’t allowed to be called Emma.  She was Ælfgifu in official royal documents. 

She was the daughter of Duke Richard I of Normandy and his wife, Gunnor (also called Gunnora).  

Her first marriage, to Ælthelred, was made in order to keep relations between Normandy and England cordial.  Things had been going downhill after Richard II of Normandy, Emma’s brother, welcomed Danish Vikings to the dukedom and gave them sanctuary, violating a treaty between Æthelred and Richard I, wherein the duke had sworn not to aid the enemies of England after he too had been giving the Danes assistance.  

During the Danish invasion by Sweyn Forkbeard, Emma and her children were sent to Normandy, where Æthelred soon followed, but they all came back after Sweyn died.   

Little is written of Emma during this time but she’s going to come up again later, because she didn’t stay a dowager queen for too much longer.  She married Cnut in 1017.

She had three children with Æthelred:

Edward the Confessor c. 1003 – 5 January 1066

Goda of England c.1004 – c.1049

Alfred the Noble c. 1005–1036

[1] "For it is fully agreed that to all dwelling in this country it will be well known that, since a decree was sent out by me with the counsel of my leading men and magnates, to the effect that all the Danes who had sprung up in this island, sprouting like cockle amongst the wheat, were to be destroyed by a most just extermination, and thus this decree was to be put into effect even as far as death, those Danes who dwelt in the afore-mentioned town, striving to escape death, entered this sanctuary of Christ, having broken by force the doors and bolts, and resolved to make refuge and defence for themselves therein against the people of the town and the suburbs; but when all the people in pursuit strove, forced by necessity, to drive them out, and could not, they set fire to the planks and burnt, as it seems, this church with its ornaments and its books. Afterwards, with God's aid, it was renewed by me." 

[2]Wormald, Patrick (1978), "Aethelred the lawmaker", in David Hill (ed.), Ethelred the Unready: Papers from the Millenary Conference, British Archaeological Reports - British Series 59, pp. 47–80

[3]Liebermann, Felix (1903). Die Gesetze der Angelsachsen: in der Ursprache mit Uebersetzung und Erläuterungen. Volume 1. Halle a.S.: Max Niemeyer.

[4]Keynes, Simon (1986). "A Tale of Two Kings: Alfred the Great and Æthelred the Unready". Transactions of the Royal Historical Society. Fifth Series 36. 36: 195–217

[atimefordragons]

Our Emperor stands astride this world  He'll vanquish every foe!  His truth and justice shine so bright  All hail his brilliant light!

☾♔; November 16, 2020 ☾♔; 5:30am ☾♔; sotd: The Master - Kotaro Nakagawa ☾♔; cotd: Cornelia li Britannia ☾♔; Into the Unknown ☾♔; Concept Board I guess? Idk

𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: Lyrics from "All Hail Britannia", I already picked it as my inspo song for Rhelgrad like 6 versions ago, so fitting that the Royal Imperial Family of Britannia becomes my basis for the latest version of Rhelgrad.

☆──════ ⋆ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋆ ════──☆

I'm calling it, Lelouch vi Britannia is THE most iconic shounen protagonist of the 2000s. There is no better hero nor villain, what a guy! Like, got a superpower and his immediate next thought was "time to figure out how to kill dad". Gave his suicidal best friend the command to live, and when he was abandoned by all his allies? He just laughed and went directly to kill his dad, assuming he'd be technically dead too. He slaughtered millions, not just for his plan, but to erase the name of Massacre Princess, literally made himself the singular focus of all hate in the world and planned his own death to save them. He destroyed the world and created it anew. Now THAT is a morally grey and fascinating character. The other shounen wish they had what he has. All of Ichigo's "I need to become more powerful" angst, like, calm down, just talk to people you stupid child. Naruto, yeah, okay, he had problems, but like, stop thinking about sasuke 24/7 sweetie, the world is ending here. Light? He WISHES he was as iconic as Lulu. Light made that whole "kill to make the world a better place" spiel, but he sought to become a god and remake the world as he saw fit with himself on top, Lelouch decided to make himself the last enemy that needs to be destroyed, the greatest enemy, so people would put down their swords and seek a more loving and kind world, the world he wanted to make for his sister. TTwTT None of the other bitches could do it.

Also, shout out to everyone in the sprint channel in the nano server. Competing with you guys really made my brain unlock and push itself to figuring out plotlines.

☆──════ ⋆ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋆ ════──☆

Okay, the Empire of Rhelgrad. Remade this one a few times for different versions of ITU and other groups, it always did have a dash of Britannian influence, but with my code geass marathon, went all in with it. Side Note: can't wait till I have all the 66 existing countries figured out, 'cause then I get to sort out all the international relations, let alone the histories. //sigh// I exhaust myself so much. Ya couldn't have lived with just 10 could ya, clara from over a year ago?

Emperor Karlheinz VII The worst. A total bitch, power obsessed, more warmongering than his predecessors, possibly all of them. Definitely a raging narcissist with a god complex.

First Prince Gilvahn vi Giesbach First in line to the throne, the only son of first Imperial Consort, Her Lady Excellency Ariadne von Karaez. Has a sweet and rather subdued nature unsuited for ruling, and despite the birthright, is not considered to be the next Emperor of the Rhelgradian Empire.

Second Prince Evrion vi Giesbach Second in line to the throne, only son of second Imperial Consort, Empress Bellara de Reux. Calculating and shrewd, a wolf in prince charming's clothing, of all the known to be living vi Giesbach siblings, he is considered most similar to the Emperor, and largely handles all the diplomatic and political issues that no longer seem to interest Karlheinz. While shady and ambitchous, he cares deeply for all of his siblings, though he does enjoy teasing them.

First Princess Belladonna vi Giesbach Third in line to the throne, and first daughter of third Imperial Consort, Empress Viala de Beauchêne, the greatest warrior of all the vi Giesbach siblings, she often acts as Prince Evrions right hand and enforcer, and is very protective of her younger siblings, particularly of her younger sister Princess Theodora, and before their disappearances Prince Veroth and Princess Rosalia.

Third Prince Reynaux vi Giesbach Seventh in line to the throne, only son of official mistress, Lady Mellara de Reux, making him the half-brother and cousin of Second Prince Evrion.

Fourth Prince Veroth vi Giesbach Fourth in line to the throne, only son and first child of the fourth and final Imperial Consort, Empress Amasyll la Ryence. After the murder of his mother, the Prince faked his and his younger sister's deaths with help from his elder brother Prince Evrion and gained protection from the Risanians, where he and his sister have lived since. Evrion alone knows that Veroth and Rosalia are still alive. While he otherwise lacks magic, Veroth was born with the Kings' Will.

Second Princess Theodora vi Giesbach Fifth in line, second daughter and last child of third Imperial Consort, Empress Viala de Beauchêne, like her eldest brother, she has a sweet nature, but being the younger sister of Princess Belladonna, she is determined and courageous, and has an incredibly strong will on par with, and arguably stronger than her older siblings.

Fifth Prince Luciano vi Giesbach Eighth in line, son of official mistress Lady Shara de Reiss, and elder twin of Prince Gilford, as well as the older brother of Princess Analiese. Grew up under the care of Prince Gilvahn and the von Karaez family.

Sixth Prince Gilford vi Giesbach Ninth in line to the throne, son of official mistress Lady Shara de Reiss, younger twin of Prince Luciano, as well as the older brother of Princess Analiese. Grew up under the care of Prince Gilvahn and the von Karaez family.

Third Princess Analiese vi Giesbach Tenth in line to the throne, claimed as the only daughter of official mistress Lady Shara de Reiss, but in truth the daughter of a noblewoman from an adversarial realm. Initially raised under the care of Empress Amasyll, but after her death was transferred into Evrion's care.

Seventh Prince Erwin vi Giesbach Eleventh, and last vi Giesbach sibling in line to the Imperial throne, son of unofficial mistress, Ser Alyanne Dulaque.

Fourth Princess Rosalia vi Giesbach Sixth in line to the Rhelgradian throne, and youngest child of Empress Amasyll, as well the Emperor's last child. Although the youngest, she ranks higher than a number of her older siblings in the line of succession as she is the child of a legal spouse, as opposed to being born to a mistress. She was a child and witness to her mother's murder, as well as collateral damage. The crossfire caused her, her speech as well as paralyzing her right arm. Once her brother realized they were unsafe, their deaths were faked and he escaped with her to Risan, where she still resides and is studying magecraft, as well perfecting single-handed mage magic. Apart from Veroth's unique power, she is the only vi Giesbach sibling to have magic, like their father.

[kyuubi-writes]

Original Story Idea

My first Story Idea on here, though it's actually number 18 in my notes. Hope you find this interesting. 

For future reference, these are all gonna be probably a very rambly and full of things that I've gone back and added later on.

These are also super bare bones since I'm trying to get ideas out before I lose them. If people enjoy this, maybe I'll post more. Maybe I'll post more anyway. Idk.

Title?: Mother's Garden

For a webcomic or manga? Setting: Anime-like high school, you know the drill.

Main Character Boy - Juno (Roman goddess of mothers and family. He was Mother's favorite, and she was grooming him to be the next "Mother" before he left. Mother genuinely loves him, and either she gave him this name, or he named himself that, in honor of her)/Something else (a code name/the name he uses for interaction with the outside world) Not sure what his real name is yet.

Main character dude is school pretty boy

General shoujo shenanigans ensue

Girls chase him all over the school and constantly ask him out and generaly treat him like (Komi-san) a god, but he's good natured about it and a good dude all around

A Shoujo Shenanigan - Confession

"You're are a good person Juno." Girl-with-a-crush-on-him #17 says. A bright smile on her face as she confesses.

Juno looks down at her, her short brown pigtails bound with pretty orange ribbons. She's got warm brown eyes, and looks at him as she speaks, which is more than most of the girls he's caught the attention of can claim. All in all, she's cute. He knows that she's smart too, since she's in the same advanced science class with him. (Add more stuff about 17's background that Juno shouldn't realistically know just from being her classmate)

Honestly? It wouldn't be the worst decision to actually go out with her. He knows her quite well after all.

Too bad she doesn't know anything about him.

Juno thinks to himself, a sad and wistful smile on his own face.

'She thinks I'm a good person.'

He shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, but I can't go out with you."

'No. I'm not. Not even a little.'

She really doesn't know him at all.

Other Shojou Shenanigans

The girls constantly try to pull him into shenanigans to get his clothes off, but no one can ever make him take off his shirt.

There's a reason for that.

He's got an extensive tattoo on his back from when he was part of an assassination organization called Mother's Garden.

It took in children and gave them a home and a family. All it asked for in return was undying loyalty

MC boy is probably the only one ever to get out and try to live a normal life.

Eventually though, his past catches up to him. He was their best agent, and had to do an impossible mission to qualify for escaping (they thought he would die, and if he didn't he deserved his freedom [like John Wick])

A Family Visit

Some of his "Brothers and Sisters" come looking for him (though NOT at Mother's behest)

[They all have number names] holds a hand out, an offering of peace, perhaps. Juno is a still as looks at his "Older Brother" from where they sit, across from each other, on the floor.

"Come home little brother." he pleads. "Mother misses you."

"If she wants me back, she can come here herself and get me." Juno remarks calmly.

He's said it once and he'll say it again (although he's starting to get tired of repeating himself).

He's not going back.

A younger girl than him and [Older Brother's number] seethes at his back. She had been grinding her teeth the whole duration of this mission. He could read it in her body that she was new.

"How dare you speak of Mother with such disrespect! I should cut out your tongue!" She nearly screams.

Juno can't escape a slightly amused exhale under his breath. This girl? This child? The very thought is laughable. (He almost wants to see her try, but he'd probably end up being mean to her and cut off an arm or something. The Gardeners would be able to put it back on of course, but they'd probably use it as a lesson in discipline. He'd been lucky enough to only ever have lost a finger, and that one was mostly his fault anyway, and against Mother so...)

As if sensing his mirth at her "threat" the red-haired "Little Sister" growls at him and brandishes a weapon.

This...is taking it too far. They are in his home, his quiet, lovely sanctuary (a garden of his very own), and this one dares raise a blade to him? He wonders for a moment if he should kill her (she may be a Child, but most of them know better than this).

Sensing the coming danger, even if the little one doesn't, someone else takes action.

An older Sister steps close to the Child (and he's decided that she is a Child, to him anyway, regardless of her actual designation) and backhands her across the face. The redheaded child looks up at the other girl with wide eyes, a reaction more of surprise than of pain.

"Mind your tongue, little sister, or it will be you who looses the ability to speak. You know not of who's presence you are in. We are in our Brother's Garden, and you will show the proper respect and reverence to Juno."

Juno senses a shift in the crowd. Ah. So only a few of them actually knew who he was when they came here. Though, glancing around out the corner of his eyes, he can tell that some of them suspected. (Hm. He'd kind of liked the anonymity. Oh well. What's done is done.)

Logistical and World Building Stuff for Understanding

Members of Mother's Garden's names are written as: Big/Little Sister/Brother # in full

Informal is just their number when speaking of them, and as Little or Older Sister/Brother when speaking to them

Those younger and who have not yet completed their training are refered to as 'Child' or 'Children' (for plural)

Calling a 'Sibling' a 'Child' is an insult to their skill

Being a 'Child of X' denotes what you were trained for after the basics in combat. You can also specialize in something

'Children of the Green' become 'Gardeners' (a nickname people have come up with, they tend to the Garden, keep it healthy and strong. I might replace all these with flower names though, and what those flowers can add to a garden) and learn how to use incredibly advanced healing tech that can reattach limbs and add biometrics and really good prosthetics

'Children of the Black' are trained in stealth and become 'Nightshade'

'Children of the Pink' are trained to teach the children non-combat related skills like languages and the kinds of things you learn in school, and maybe dance or extra stuff?

'Children of the Blue' are trained to gather info

There is only one 'Golden Child'. They are chosen to be the next 'Mother' when the time comes that the Mother decides that they are ready, or when he or she dies

There is only one 'Silver Child'. They are next in line to become Mother ONLY if something happens to BOTH the Golden Child and Mother. Once a Golden Child becomes Mother, they can choose a new Golden and Silver child, though it is often that the Silver Child goes on to become the Golden, and someone new is chosen as Silver

(Being the Silver Child to the Golden one sometimes breeds resentment, but all Children must pit the good of the Garden before their own ambition or feelings. Only Bad Children feel resentment after all.)

Bad Children are [REDACTED]

More to be added to the 'Children of the X' section

The 'Eldest' are the ones who teach the younger children how to be 'Children of X'

They would introduce themselves as 'I am Brother/Sister #, Eldest son/daughter of [color]'

Anyway. That’s all I’ve got for this world for now. Later.

[lilulo-12]

Wonder of You- 1

So I shouldn’t be starting another fic. I literally have like 5 I’ve been working on that fell by the way side after having surgery. But I started watching Supernatural. (Currently on Season 8) and I had to do it. I had to start another one.

So I’m doing an original character. I really hate using “Y/N” and things like that. But feel free to substitute her info for yours! There’s going to be this part and another part that set the story up and then we’ll go from there. I”m hoping this isn’t horrendous. Enjoy!! Story is below the cut. 

Chapter 1: Growing Up Winchester

She was an honorary Winchester. Her mother and father had been killed by a group of demons when she was only 12 years old. Her father had been a hunter and for the first time in his life, a creature of the night had gotten one over him. She had made it to the safe room in time. The demons didn’t know she was in the house when they got there, her mother had bravely distracted them but she couldn’t get away. She watched in horror as she was brutally murdered and then her father. He had been so distraught when he saw his dead wife that he hadn’t stood a chance. 

He often worked with John Winchester, like John, someone he loved had been killed by a demon too. In fact, John had been in the area and was on his way to help after he got the call, but had gotten there too late. Her father and John had a pact; if either of them died, they would take care of the other’s family. John had found her almost catatonic in the safe room once he entered the code. “C’mon sweetheart, lets pack your things. I’m taking you home.” He took her hand and led her to her room where she packed her wardrobe, pointe shoes, drawing supplies and books. John let her bring a blanket and her pillow.  He wisely grabbed some mementos and photos of her parents. You remembered looking through the back window of his Impala as the house went up in flames.

Once they got to the motel room he sent her to shower and get ready for bed. Dean and Sam weren't sure what was going on. Their father had never brought home a stray before. Dean took her in. petite almost wasn't enough to describe her. She had long almost black curly hair hair, freckles and haunted blue-green eyes. Her eyes were almost turquoise. They reminded Dean of the color of the oceans he'd seen pictures of from tropical climates. John told his boys what had happened when he heard the shower turn on. "Her name is Blake Fitzgerald. She's family now." Sam was just a year younger than her and wasn’t impressed. “She has so much stuff.” He had huffed jealously out of character. John knew he was at a tough age and was more accustomed to John’s strict rules. Normally John would have lit into him, but Dean had beat him to it. “Shut up Sammy. She just watched both her parents die and lost everything. If some stuff helps her, we’ll make room. I’ll take care of her Dad, don’t worry.” John smiled at his eldest son. 

That night she woke up screaming after reliving the death of her parents. John had watched how Dean had jumped up and woke her quickly. He waited until her breathing regulated and then brought her some water. He had pulled her into a hug and held her, telling her that she wasn’t alone. “You’re a Winchester now and I’m going to keep you safe” Dean had whispered. “Pinky Promise?” Your voice made you sound small. “Pinky Promise.” With that Dean linked his pinky in hers for a moment. John watched as he laid down and lightly scratched her back like a protective big brother until she fell asleep. John swelled with pride over his eldest son. He had been worried about bringing a young girl into their fold but he knew everything would be okay. Sam would get there. Being a 11 year old boy was hard. John knew Dean would kick him into gear. John also couldn’t help but smile at the idea of having a little girl to spoil. Mary had always wanted a daughter. 

When she had first come to stay with them she had been incredibly and understandably withdrawn. John had been worried. Neither he or Dean had any idea how to help her. John was so worried that he had taken a month long hiatus from the hunt. He had rented a house for the 4 of them. The continuous moves wouldn’t help her adjust to her new life or mourn the loss of her old one. After a few days of being there John had sat down with her to talk about what happened. He had kept Sam in the dark about monsters for as long as he could. He wasn’t sure if her father had done the same, but she saw what she saw. She had stood as he was mid-sentenced and held her finger up. John had never been silenced like that. She came back with a leather bound sketchbook. “My Daddy told me everything. My mom too. They didn’t want to hide it from me, they were too afraid that not knowing would get me killed.” She handed John the book. As he flipped through it was one of the most extensive Hunter’s Journal he had ever seen with full drawings of the hunted monsters. “After every hunt when he got home, he would tell me everything. I documented the hunt and sketched by his description. He didn’t want me to ever forget what he knew. If you’ll let me, I’d like to continue. I think it’s what my dad would want. I think he would want me to carry on.” John had taken her hand and squeezed it. “I’d like that very much sweetheart. You’re apart of the team now and we all do our part.” She had nodded, stood to put the book back. “I want you to know that I will take care of you. I promised your Dad that I would take care of you like my own if it ever came down to it. I will keep you safe.” She gave John a half smile.  “I know. My dad told me about the pact you had made. Thank you for honoring it.” John had wanted to say more but he didn’t know how to say it. She, like Dean was far too wise beyond her years.

It took Sam only about a week to accept the girl. He had caught her staring at a picture of her parents one early morning. She had been sitting on the couch, chin on her knees, picture held in front of her face, a few errant tears slipping down. Sam sat down on the couch, studying her face and felt his stony exterior crack. “My mom died too. I’m so sorry you had to watch it happen to yours. And I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk.” She didn’t say anything, but reached out and took his hand and squeezed it. John had been relieved when he saw the thaw between the two. Sam became her best friend and she was his confidant. She ended up being a much needed barrier between Sam and John Winchester. The two were like oil and water. Having her with them had John cutting down on his drinking and made him check his temper. She stepped in between the two many times, trying to make John understand how Sam felt and vice versa. She was truly the rose between two thorns. She was smart, probably smarter than the 3 of them and had common sense to boot. Other than documenting what she could, she would help Sam with research and listen to his dream of  a normal life. She understood the feeling, but related more to Dean and John’s desire to protect innocent people and get revenge against the monsters that ruined her life. 

Dean was her savior. She was to be protected, no matter the cost. John didn’t even need to ask him to protect her. It started the day he laid his eyes on her, seeing her so broken. She flourished in the attention Dean gave her. It was Dean that pulled her out of the deep melancholy she felt and made her feel like she had a place with them. Dean was the one she confessed her deepest darkest fears to. The fear that the death of her parents left a darkness inside and a hole that could only be filled with violent revenge. Dean would scoff, to him, she was the most pure living thing he’d ever encountered. She was full of grace and light. "You're not going to go dark. I wont let you." He had sworn to her. She looked up at him with her haunting blue eyes. "Pinky Promise?" She had put her hand up with her pinky out. He didn't say anything, just linked his pinky with hers. She was an empath and her ability to understand the feelings of others often left him awestruck. He couldn't understand Sam's feelings and you could.

There wasn’t anything Dean wouldn’t do to make her happy. After a couple of weeks he confronted her on her restlessness and she confessed your love of ballet and how much she missed it. She was certain it would be impossible to continue while being on the move; But Dean was determined that she wouldn’t lose that outlet. He would find a place for her to dance in whichever city or town they ended up in. He would charm teachers into letting her join a class here and there. He would bust in so you could practice with out a class for a few hours. Dean, though he wouldn’t admit it, could watch her for hours. He was mesmerized by how effortless she made it look. Dean was the only one that could quell the nightmares. She woke up screaming at night more times than not. Dean would get out of the bed he shared with Sam and climb into hers and like the first night he’d lightly scratch her back until she fell back to sleep. It was always the same nightmare. The feeling of being helpless ate at her more often than not.

 It wasn’t until she was 15 and Dean was going on 18 that John wondered about their relationship. The way Dean looked at her changed, he always looked at you like you hung the moon, but the context was different.  John, at first was worried that maybe as she got older she should have your own room, but few  cheap motels had adjacent rooms. The one and only time he suggested it, she broke out in a severe panic attack at the thought of being alone. Once the panic subsided she just sobbed. It was one of the few times she let John see her break, she always put up a tough girl front with him. He held her like the daughter he had seen you as since the day he took her shaking hand to bring her home. “I’m 15 and I’m afraid of the dark”. He gave you his winning Winchester smile. “Sweetheart, I’m a grown ass man and still afraid of the dark” she laughed and hugged him. “Thank you for becoming my Daddy. Thank you for saving me. I don't think I ever said that." John couldn’t respond. He couldn’t speak. He just hugged her tighter and never brought up the idea of separating her from the 3 of them again. The next day, however, he made the decision to teach her to fight every monster he knew. He and Dean would work on fighting and shooting. While he wasn’t  keen on her hunting, he’d be damned if she would end up defenseless and dead.

She was tiny, barely 5'3", but that made her more useful than not. Ballet kept her lean and agile and the weight training made her strong and tough. Dean noticed her punches packing more power behind them. John couldn’t have been prouder the day she outright kicked Dean’s ass. Dean was cocky and never expected her toreally  be able to take him. She was half his size, but used his size against him. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall Dee.” she quipped at him with a wink. While John Winchester would always worry about your safety, he knew you were going to be okay. Sam had a grin on his face after she had sashayed away from Dean. "You're little...but you're big." Dean had scoffed. "Sammy- that makes no damn sense." but Dean knew he was right.

She didn't ask for much, so when she did want something it was non-negotiable. She insisted on celebrating birthdays and holidays, even in small ways. John couldn’t say no to taking a day off here and there but when her 16th birthday rolled around John had been stuck on a hunt. She was disappointed, beyond disappointed. Most girls her age had these huge parties, wore these fancy dresses and got ridiculously expensive gifts. She had been invited to a few parties if they were in one place for long enough. She didn’t want a big party or a fancy gift, she definitely didn't need that. She just wanted one perfect day with the 3 men who saved her in more ways than she could count. She did your best to hide her sadness at the lack of John Winchester. She headed to bed early, hoping that at least the universe would give her a reprieve from her nightmares for at least one night.  At midnight, she was still awake, feigning sleep. She felt herr bed sink down unknowingly from Dean’s weight. “Wake up baby doll” he whispered in your ear and she rolled from her side to her back, hoping he wouldn't notice she had been crying. There sat Dean Winchester with a hot pink “Sweet 16” birthday hat on and Vanilla Cupcake loaded with chocolate frosting, herr favorite. It had a huge candle glowing. “Happy Birthday Darlin’” he said with the biggest grin on his face. “Make a wish”. As she closed her eyes a tear fell and you felt his thumb wipe it away. She felt a shiver down her spine and blew out the candle. He set the cupcake on the night stand and when he turned back around she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. He held her more tightly and longer than he ever had before. “I promise you, this will be the best birthday you’ve ever had.” She nodded. “Pinky promise?” He laughed and linked his pinky with hers. “Always”. Dean Winchester did not disappoint.

They spent the day at the local carnival eating as much fried food as the two of them could stomach, playing games and riding the best rides. His face hurt from laughing as she screamed in delight on the tallest roller coaster she had ever been on. Her laugh was like music to his ears and he didn't hear it nearly enough. At night he put his arm around her and pulled her close as they waited at the top of the Ferris Wheel.  As they descended, the way he was looking at her, she was certain he was going to kiss her. It was at that moment that she realized she wanted him to but then something flickered behind his eyes and he kissed her forehead instead. “Happy Birthday.” You smiled at him. “Best one yet.” Dean carried the prizes he had won for her  in one hand and held her hand in the other as they walked to the car.

Sam had been a little pissed that he wasn’t allowed to go with the two of them but John had insisted he stay behind in case he needed something. Sam couldn’t resent her for his father’s behavior. He just wished his father cared about what he wanted as much as he did about her wants. His anger subsided when she burst into the motel room with your cheeks rosy from the sun and happiness, her eyes shining at him. She ran over and hugged him. “I missed you today.” He hugged you back. “As long as you had a good day, that’s all that mattress.” It was rare to see you so happy. He looked at his brother with grateful eyes. Sam loved you, but not in the way that Dean loved you, for that he was certain. He also knew that neither one of you realized it yet.

John came home that night with a little box wrapped in pink paper. She scrunched her eyebrows. "We don't do gifts." John smiled and pushed the package towards her. "It's nothing crazy. I saved an old broad that owned a vintage shop. I told her it was my kid's 16th birthday. She was grateful for the salt and burn so she let me pick something out for you." It was a white gold pearl ring with two little diamonds on the side. She shook her head no. "This is too much." John gave her a look. She took it out of the box and slid it on the middle finger of her right hand. "Thank you." He gave her the half smile that she saw from Dean all of the time. "You're welcome sweetheart." 

School had been a difficult transition. She went from having a ton of friends to feeling completely and utterly alone. She missed her dance team friends. She went from being popular to a social pariah.  The only thing that saved her was that she was seen with Dean. He was popular wherever they went, so no one messed with her. Once he was done with school, that changed. As the years went on, being with the Winchesters influenced her. She was no longer a girly ballerina. While she certainly was still a dancer, her sense of style changed completely. She lived in combat boots, jeans and an asymmetrical leather jacket over t-shirts and tank tops. Any skirt or dress she had was paired with tights, her boots and jacket. The girls loved to look down on her and the boys loved to harass her. She would never share her struggles with the boys. She didn't want them to get involved. Her goal was to study hard and get her diploma early and then decide her next move from there. 

Things seemed to be different when she was almost 17. They had been staying in the same place for a while. John had a solid lead on the yellow eyed demon and he wanted the 3 of them to stay put. She had made a couple of friends and had even met a boy she liked. She had been thrilled when he asked her to the prom. She had never thought that she would ever have the opportunity to do something that normal. The night he asked her was a night that John had been back with them for a day or so. "Sweetheart, you seem almost giddy...what's up?" He had said when she came home from school. John was used to her more mellow, no nonsense attitude. She smiled brightly and told him and asked him if it was okay that she went. Seeing her so happy and excited about something so simple made it impossible to say no. He handed Dean some money and told him to take her shopping for a dress and some shoes to wear. Dean had been jealous of this boy since the day he saw him put his hand on the small of her back when he went to pick her up from school. He knew he had no right to be, but the way she looked at the kid was the way she often looked at him; But who was he to deny her. 

That weekend they drove to a small shop in town, she wouldn't let him take her to the mall or any place that had expensive dresses. That was one of the things he loved about her, how simple she liked things and how reasonable she was. They entered a second hand store and within a half an hour she had four dresses in a little dressing room. Dean sat and waited as she tried them on. She only stepped out of the room in one of them, and he felt like she knocked the air out of him. There she stood in a black sweetheart neck strapless dress with a fitted bodice and the skirt was made of all tulle. It reminded him of a ballet costume, and it was perfect for her. "You look...wow." was all he could say. "It's not too plain?" She was busy examining herself in the mirror and couldn't see the look in his eyes. "No. That dress was made for you." She turned and grinned at him. She found herself a pair of strappy black sandals to go with it. As he was at the register paying she was browsing around the store. He glanced in the glass showcase and saw a silver necklace with a diamond pendant. He discreetly asked the owner to include it in the order. While her dress and shoes cost far less than John had anticipated, Dean still had to dip into his own cash reserves. To him, it was money well worth it. 

A couple of weeks later, Dean watched as she did her makeup and put her hair into an elaborate up do. She placed her mother's diamond studs into her ears and adjusted the ring that John had given her for her 16th birthday. She went into the bathroom and shut the door to get dressed. Dean looked up when the door opened, the necklace in his pocket, she looked out at him sheepishly. "The zipper is stuck, can you help me?" He nodded and walked over. He stood behind her, staring at her in the bathroom mirror, his fingers fumbling with the zipper. He noticed how her skin erupted with goose bumps when his thumb grazed her spine. After he zipped her up he smiled at her, but didn't move. She gave him a questioning look, but had her answer when she saw him clasp the necklace. "Dean...where did you get this?" Her eyes were wide. "At that shop. I got it when you weren't looking. I figured it would go perfectly with your dress." She turned around and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you so much." And she pressed her lips to his cheek. His heart skipped a beat and then he watched her walk out the door to go spend the night with some other guy. 

She stood outside waiting for him to come pick her up. She had been honest with him about moving around a lot, about how John took her in after her parents death and that his job had him on the road. She didn't want him to be surprised when her home address was a motel. She saw his car pull up and watched him get out, but she could see someone else in the car. "Wow...you clean up nice for a piece of trash. Where are your combat boots?" She looked at him wide eyed. "Wh..what?" She saw the window in the car roll down and one of her new "friends" was in the passenger seat. "I mean...did you really think I liked you? It was a bet with my friends to see if I could get you. Get you to think you were special. You're a joke. This was a joke. Something to pass the time with my buddies. She's my date." He pointed to the car. He laughed and shook his head. "See ya at school on Monday." She wouldn't let him see her cry. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "What a LOSER!" you heard the girl yell from the car laughing. Once the car was out of sight, she sank down and sat on the curb and put her face in her hands. A little while later, Sam came walking up the sidewalk after a trip to the library and he saw her sitting there. He looked at his watch, knowing she should have been at the dance already. "Hey...what happened?" He squatted down in front of her, face filled with concern. "Sam...please. Please just leave me alone. Thank you for asking, but I just want to be left alone." He could feel his eyes on her and then heard him slowly rise and then heard the door shut. 10 minutes later, Dean was outside. He draped his leather jacket over her shoulders. "C'mon sweetheart, I'm taking you someplace." She wouldn't even meet his eyes, she couldn't even look at him. "C'mon, get in the car or I'm picking you up and putting you there myself." After a deep breath, she stood, not looking at him and got into the car.

 She stared out the window as he drove. She wouldn't talk about what happened, but he could guess. He could rip that kids face off for hurting her like that. He looked down at her hand that was resting on the seat. He placed his hand next to it and linked his pinky with hers. She looked at him for the first time and saw that he was wearing a suit. "Dean...I'm not going to that prom. What are you doing?" He looked at her and gave her the kind of smile that made the skin around his eyes crinkle. "Of course you're not going to that prom." He said nothing more and a few moments later he was pulling down a dirt road. There was a small park with an old swing set and there was a little bridge over a small pond. He pulled the car right onto the grass. She sat there confused as he got out. He came over and opened her door and put his hand out. She placed her small hand in his and let him help her out of the car. 

She watched as he went back to the driver's side of the car and turned the radio on so they had some music. After rolling down all the windows he looked over at her. "Dean...you look really nice." He smiled again. "That's because I'm looking at you." She didn't know what to say. The sky was clear and full of stars and the moon was full and bright. This was like from a movie. "You deserve to have a Prom and everything that you want. That kid is a prick and he doesn't deserve to breath the same air as you." She walked over to him and put her hand on his cheek. "I don't need a Prom." He put his hand over hers. "You deserve it. C'mon, dance with me." He pulled her close to him and wrapped one arm around his neck. She rested her other hand on his shoulder and let him hold her closer than he ever had. They slowly swayed to Elvis singing "Can't Help Falling In Love." In that moment she knew she loved him. She loved him in a way that she shouldn't, in a way that would complicate everything. 

When the song ended, she stayed in his arms. She felt him take a hold of her chin and tilt her head up towards him. He studied her turquoise eyes for a moment and then he was kissing her. He could have kissed her forever. They danced a little more and then sat on the swings for a while. All of the hurt feelings had dissipated. This was the perfect prom, Dean was the perfect date. She stared up at the stars for a while. She wanted to etch this memory in her brain forever. She looked over at him. "Thank you." was all she could say. "You deserve the best of everything. And I'll move heaven and earth to give it to you." The intensity in his gaze took her by surprise. "Pinky promise?" She asked him. It was their thing. "Pinky promise?  “Always" and he snaked his pinky around hers. 

They made their way back to the motel room after midnight. Sam gave Dean a pointed look when they got back. She didn't know what it meant. The two of them could speak without saying anything at all. John came out of the bathroom. "There's my girl. Are you okay? Sammy told me that little asshole hurt you." Sam was always taken by surprise the way his father doted on her. He sometimes wondered if she reminded him of their mother, not in looks, but in personality. "I'm okay. Dean took care of me. He always does." John hugged her and kissed her forehead. "Good. Listen, we're going to be leaving in a day or so, so you wont have to see those kids again." She hesitated for a moment. All 3 Winchesters watched her, waiting for whatever it was she was going to say. "I want to test out of High School. I don't want to do this anymore. I know that I can pass all of the exams. I just want to be done with all of this." John took a deep breath and nodded. "Anything you want sweetheart." She nodded.

 "I'm also setting up an audition with Juilliard. I'll take a bus to New York if I need to. I want to dance. I love that more than anything, it's the only thing I have left that makes me feel like me. And if I can't hack it, then I'll help you." Dean felt like he was kicked in the stomach. He thought they were starting something, but she wanted to leave. "You're not hunting. No way." John told her. Sam's head snapped up. His father always made it known that he was expected to join the "Family Business". College wasn't an option. "We'll get you to that audition and none of this talk about not getting in. You're a Winchester, whatever you put your mind to, you'll be able to do it."

 She didn't make eye contact with Dean. She knew he was going to be confused and hurt. She couldn't ruin what they had. If they got together and it didn't work out, their relationship was destroyed. She knew John would shoot down her staying to help them. She needed to get away from Dean until she could get over what she felt for him. Once she felt settled, she could come back.  

[classicmollywood]

New to Me - February 2019

*Sorry that it has taken me so long for this post. My sister got married and I didn’t have time until right now for this*

This month I did not have a lot of time for film viewing, but that’s okay! I got to see some really interesting films!

1890s - 0

1900s - 0

1910s - 0

1920s - 0

1930s - 0

1940s - 1

The Conspirators (1944)

Paul Henreid and Hedy Lamarr are electric together! This movie starts kinda slow but then gets better towards the middle. My favorite scene in the whole movie has to be the game scene in the casino. The tension between the actors, the great camera shots, and the editing really keeps the audience on their toes. Was this the best WII spy film made in the ‘40s? Not really, but it does have some parts that make it thrilling and fun to watch.

1950s - 3

Born to be Bad (1950)

This film was very well done. Joan Fontaine and Robert Ryan do such a great acting job. Fontaine made me hate Christabel so much, which I guess is the point. The whole movie, I just kept saying that she is the worst! It is very interesting how Christabel has qualities of a femme fatale, but isn’t as fatal as she thinks she is. She is just a golddigger who will do anything to get money. I felt so bad for everyone in her path. I guess that means the writing was done well too. 

Rashomon (1950)

What a fantastic film! I loved Akira Kurosawa’s direction and the way he had the characters tell the story from different point of views. It is interesting to try to decipher who is telling the truth, and who is lying. I understand why this film is a must see! 

The Mating Game (1959)

THIS FILM WAS SUCH A DELIGHT! I had only seen Tony Randall as the sidekick to Rock Hudson, but I see how he can be a good leading man! He was delightful with Debbie Reynolds (even though Debbie usually can do no wrong in my eyes). I loved the chaos this film had and how some of the innuendos got past the Production Code. I honestly wanted to re-watch the movie right after I watched it because I enjoyed it so much!

1960s - 0

1970s - 0

1980s - 0

1990s - 1

Daughters of the Dust (1991)

The cinematography in this film was absolutely incredible! The colors were absolutely vibrant and Julie Dash did a great job with directing the film. I liked how there were two narrators: the unborn daughter and the eldest female family member. I did feel like sometimes there was too much going on and it was hard for me to keep up. I also am not as familiar with the Gullah culture, so some of the vernacular was hard for me to understand. I saw this film as a great learning experience for me because I got to become familiar with a culture I didn’t know much about. 

2000s - 0

2010s - 1

You Were Never Really Here (2017)

I really appreciated this film. For a film centered around violence and sexual assault, Director Lynne Ramsay did a good job of not showing all of the disturbing images but hinting at what had happened. I feel like that is what made this film even creepier. Also Joaquin Phoenix is just so good as the anti-hero in this film (even though his acting is usually wonderful, so that’s not surprising to me). 

[sithhoplite]

The family realizes Lak devotion to them goes deeper than they imagined.

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

Lak was sitting on her couch reading when she heard a knock on the door which surprised her. She wasn’t expecting anyone and Andriy would just come in since he had the security codes. Opening the door her sister Caitlin stood in front of her.

“May I come in?”

“Of course” she answered making a gesture for him to enter. “What’s up?”

Sitting down on the opposite end of the couch she waited for whatever it was Caitlin had to say because if she had come to Lak’s apartment it must be serious.

“Killian told me something today that did not make sense and I would like you to clarify. He said you “took his chance at glory” during the mid-rim campaign and that you stopped him from being sent to the front despite the need for Sith to command troops.”

“He never had a chance to get glory so I couldn’t have taken it first off and yes I learned of the Academies idea of sending Sith within two years of graduation on the martial track who had showed incredible aptitude, he was one. It was either I go back and fight or he went, I chose to go instead.”

“Why? I don’t understand.”

Leaning back Lak took a deep breath, “ Simple really, it was to protect him. He may be gifted in tactics but he wouldn’t have lasted a week. His death would have hurt mom more than mine I wagered. I did it to protect him, I would have done the same for you or Markus. It’s my job as the eldest to protect all of you, and if that means I go back into combat to make sure none of you do then so be it.”

Caitlin was surprised at this, Lak had never shown an inclination to be that dedicated to her.

“Do mom and dad know?”

“No, it was an idea floating around and through my contacts they alerted me. Mom and Dad may have their own sources w/in the military spheres but so do I. Ones I have cultivated over the years in combat on various worlds.”

“I am shocked I have to say, I never knew you cared nor that you were so well connected.”

“I dont feel the need to brag about my contacts thus I keep quiet, as for not caring I do. Whether you believe it or not I do love you as my sister and I would do what it took to protect you from having to go into battle. I may seem like I don’t take family responsibility seriously but I do and I take my position as the eldest seriously too. You are the heir true, but age wise I am the oldest and it is my responsibility to look after all three of you. Just as I would not shirk my duty to the Empire I will not shirk in when it comes to taking care of you.”

“It seems I may have been somewhat mistaken about you Lak. Thank you for clarifying what he said. Be warned mom and dad heard us talking and they very well may ask you what is going on.”

“Thanks for the heads up. Andriy and I will be over tonight for supper.”

*******

After supper Lak was summoned into her father’s office to have a chat with him and her mother. She was well aware of what it was about thanks to Caitlins heads up earlier.

“You have questions I take it?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Mortis asked

“You didn’t need to know. I handled the situation and Killian stayed safe, what is there to talk about.”

“You could have been killed Lak, do you know how worried your father and I were while you were gone?”

“I could have but I had a much better chance of surviving than he did, he wouldn’t have made it a week, two weeks max. I protected him as it is my duty as the eldest to do. I also felt that his death would hit harder than mine. I make no apologies and I would do it again to protect any of my siblings.”

“Your death would hit us as hard as the death of any of your siblings. We are hurt you would think we value your life any less than theirs. You are our daughter and it would devastate us if you had been killed. Do not think otherwise Lakadimos.”

“I stand mistaken on that point then, my apologies. The point stands, I ensured he did not get sent to the front by going myself. I had an opportunity to come home after a year but that would have entailed Killian taking my place so I declined. You two may have your contacts in the military spheres, so do I. My care free attitude may not show how seriously I take my responsibilities to this family but rest assured I taken them very seriously.” getting up and pouring a drink, “I would do it again to protect Caitlin, I would do it again to protect Markus and I would do it again, again to protect Killian. It is my job to protect them and I will do what I must to ensure my duty is carried out. Are there any other questions?”

“No, you have made your point clear we just wish you had told us is all.” Indran spoke up

“You would have been worried more and I didn’t want that. What is done is done. If you will excuse me I am going to torment Killian before he leaves in two days.”

Mortis and Indran sat there stunned by the brutal honesty by Lak tonight and how she had been more than willing to sacrifice herself for her family and until now had managed to keep it quiet. Walking into the den they watched her hit Killian on the head with a pillow and then laugh. Looking around the room they smiled. For the moment all of their children were home, safe and happy. Reaching over Alastar took her hand and squeezed it feeling the same calm and happiness she was.

[weaselle]

I put them both in one post.

I have a brother 10 years older than me and a younger brother and sister 5 and 7 years younger than me respectively. I call the older by his name, and also “dude” a lot. You know those twisty metal puzzles you have to figure out how to take apart or put back together, like puzzle rings and shit? He can do those in seconds without even thinking about it, like, idly while talking to you. He’s a daredevil bombs and blades tinkerer, and a practical joker. Once he told me he was getting out of the lake because it was noon and that’s when the sun shone straight down to the bottom and woke IT up, and then got out and snuck halfway around the lake to climb back in and swim up from underneath me to wrap a hand around my ankle and suddenly yank me down about ten feet at an angle toward the center of the lake. He went to jail for building a bomb, it’s a good thing they never found his other homemade weapons, like arrows with exploding tips, or the underslung potato gun mounted to the frame of his car. And I SAY potato gun but I saw him use his tester model to launch a wad of duct tape through a truck camper shell at the junk yard in the R&D phase, and he use to load it with a wad of something for batting topped by a snapple cap and a handfull of roofing nails and disintegrate mail boxes with it. He is a good wood sculptor and has a surprisingly delicate yet raw style when drawing with charcoal or graphite. He can take apart and put together almost anything. I could just write a whole book about his antics.

With my younger brother it’s mostly his name and “dude” quite often. Every once in a while, I will call him bro, or brother, but usually when I am low-key reinforcing our age difference. Like if he thought mom would react one way to something, but I had seen her reaction to that same thing before he was born or whatever, like, brother, I’ve known her longer. He is one of two people I know personally who may be legit geniuses. He used to play video games in the early 90′s by hacking their code and modding them - I’d walk in and he’d be 12 years old like “Instead of cannon balls, I made the cannon shoot cows that bounce around randomly a few times and explode, and I’m trying to make it so that each time a cow bounces, it spawns another bouncing cow bomb”. He has a… I want to say a Masters in Physics. His math teacher in high school tried to hold his interest by having him teach the first 15 minutes of each class. Once when the rest of us siblings were all standing around talking about sneaking out of the house, we asked if he ever did and he was like “why would I sneak out in the middle of the night… that’s when I sleep.” Now he’s a very mellow polyamorous hacker who brews his own beer and “isn’t allowed to tell you where I work, it’s so silly”

Our youngest I call by her name, and dude a fair amount, and a combination of the word sister and her name (like if her name was Brittany I would call her Sisttany) I do call her sister more than I use brother for my fraternals, but she calls us all brother quite a bit.  I think there are some complex reasons for that, but it boils down to her having been teased terribly and given a very hard time growing up by us, her brothers, who had a certain alliance against her. Of course by now we’re forced to admit that she is awesome and special and maybe the best of all of us. Certainly the coolest. Like, my younger brother is hella cool on paper, but when you’re in a room with him, he’s a little.. the only way he pulls it off is by truly not giving a fuck if people think he’s cool, which, as we all know, instantly awards coolness to whatever you’ve got going. On the other hand, when my sister is in a room, people laugh when she decides something is funny. Someone else is often making the decisions, but everyone only agrees to go along with them if sheagrees with them. She’s not wearing those clothes because they are cool, those clothes are cool because she’s wearing them, Once she worked at the same hotel I did for a while, and I asked her what she thought of it, and she said “I only ever want to work in a hotel again if I OWN it”. She was 19. She once knocked out her (now ex) boyfriend for forcefully taking his car keys away from her too roughly when he’d been drinking. He realized what he’d done too late to save him and she pulled him down from the fence he was climbing to get away from her so she could lay him out. She ran her own business for a while doing marketing stuff for publications and wineries and things, but she felt she was working too hard for the return she was seeing, and now she works for some firm overseeing the people who manage their social media or something.

And then there’s me, the Bard of the group, basically. I travel around on lots of adventures (I was arrested by the US airforce in Germany, I got stuck in England for a summer when they took my passport away from me at Heathrow - I stayed at a circus school with a few of the circus students who had no real home to go back to for the summer, and I put together a circus busking group with some of them and that’s how I made enough money to eat every day.) I used to write and produce full length comedies for the stage. I was SO sure I was going to be a con-artist, so I studied slight of hand and magic ( I ran a crooked poker game at recess) but as a young adult, when I picked my first pocket, I found I had no taste for stealing from real people (I’ll fuck up Coke any day, where’s Amazon’s pocket? Side note: I tapped the guy on his shoulder and handed his wallet back to him and said “I think you dropped this” and never picked a pocket again, but I can still do some pretty interesting stuff with cards and coins and things, Juggle knives and torches. that sort of stuff). Anyway, I adventure, and I write songs and stories, and my siblings mostly call me by my name, and very occasionally, dude. Also, my origins are steeped in mystery and my siblings are actually my cousins by blood, but that’s another story. Okay, here is that story.

My Grandmother was left-handed and the reason I love cooking and definitely some kind of Being. Her title was The Grandma. She had 4 great grandchildren by the time she died, and so her daughters became Grandma, but she was THE Grandma. She had this way about her, like she was incredibly present, but also paying attention to everything in the whole world. And then sometimes (notably when you fucked up) it was like she pulled her attention off all those things and put the whole thing on you; it was very unsettling. And she had the Voice, which she almost never used.

The last time Grandma traveled on an airplane with us, we were going though security and she couldn’t go through the metal detectors because by then she couldn’t get out of the wheelchair for longer than twenty seconds at a time. The TSA agent said she was going to search her or pat her down instead, and reached for my Grandmother. And Grandmother said, in the Voice

“Don’t touch The Grandma”

The TSA agent blinked and looked at grandma’s eldest daughter (a celtic witch if ever there was one) who merely shrugged and said “…don’t touch the grandma”.

TSAgent hesitated as if about to reach forward and insist, thought better of it, called TSA Supervisor over. TSA Supervisor explained everything to The Grandma - it’s just a quick pat-down, everybody who can’t go through the detectors has it done, they won’t even ask her to stand - and then reached forward to pat down my grandmother

“Don’t. Touch. The Grandma”

TSA Supervisor’s hands stopped as if hitting glass. She looked confusedly back and forth between the TSA agent and my grandmother for a second, and then the confusion left her face and she stepped aside, looked at the TSA agent and said “Don’t touch the Grandma” and waived us through security. They didn’t even scan the rest of us

It’s a shame she couldn’t fly anymore after that, she loved to fly; when her first husband died, she married P, a WW2 B52 crewman who taught her to pilot small planes, and they would fly up and down the coast to any cities they wanted to visit - she knew the West Coast in a way few people do.

One morning in the deserts of Nevada a year after P’s death she woke me up and said “get dressed, were going to into town to the casino; P visited me in a dream last night and told me I’d win a video poker jackpot with a royal flush today” and we drove into town so she could spend fifteen minutes playing video poker. I say fifteen minutes, because after fifteen minutes she hit her jackpot with a royal flush in hearts, and we went back home.

She used to sit in her chair in her living room with her back to the kitchen wall, and I’d go to leave the kitchen and I’d hear her from the other room “don’t you leave my kitchen mat like that” and I’d look over my shoulder at the mat in front of the sink, and sure enough, it would be all rumpled up; sorry grandma.

Grandma and I shared a birthmark, a red stain I won’t describe fully. And my grandmother and I were both adopted. Let me explain.

My Grandmother was adopted by a nice family.

And then that family all died, and she was adopted AGAIN.

She grew up and married a man whose Irish father I am named after: K, who came here from Ireland to work the Alaskan gold rush. She and her husband lived with his father K for a while, and this is a story about that:

Every Sunday. great grandpa K would go off on his own for a couple hours to “walk in the woods”. Grandma followed him one day. K walked into the woods, packed a pipe, sat down with his back to a tree, and took a small handful of nuts and seeds and fruits and leaves out of his shirt pocket. He scattered them around. Soon, as if expecting him, several animals came and helped themselves. The squirrels climbed all over him, on his head even. The raccoons sat in his lap. The birds sat on his knees and shoulders and in his beard and peered into his face. The deer checked his jacket for more snacks. After they hung out for about an hour, they all went on their way. Then K smoked his pipe and went home.

Grandma and K’s son had 5 kids.

One died as a child.

The eldest became an ER nurse and a savant witch. She would never admit she is a witch, but there’s a horseshoe over her door (not the front door, mind you, but the door she actually uses) and she’s the one who taught me to always leave a single spider in your house when you clean. She has a natural way with plants and animals -  the deer eat everything but her herb garden, which isn’t even fenced. This year one of them stayed in her backyard for nearly two months raising twins to be big enough to take back to the herd. She recognizes the individual squirrels and birds in her yard and knows their personalities and habits and things about their families. And of course as an ER and ICU nurse, she’s a hell of a healer.

The youngest was a witch, but sadly neglected, remained immature. Still, she had talents. She could fool people and make them laugh as easy as breathing, like some kind of glamour. Every long line of strangers she ever waited in became a party among friends. Could literally smell if you were lying to her. As in, she’d lean close and take a couple deep sniffs and then be like “Nope. Tell me, where did you really go after school?”

The only brother became a wandering holy man of sorts. Used to hitch-hike around the country in robes and junk, with a small, like, cult; then he quit them to just grow his own holy experience. He died in his 30s.

And the middle sister was my mother. She was double jointed and very dyslexic, and everyone says she was incredibly gifted in many ways. She did intricate artwork in ink, fractal gardens and faux woodgrain that was made of salvador dali faces, stuff like that. She was self taught on the piano, used to just walk up to a piano and play songs she made up on the spot that sounded how she was feeling and little crowds would gather. Made her own exercise equipment. Could pick up an accent within minutes and become semi-conversational in days. She had me with a half Japanese guy in the Air Force (he didn’t stick around). Then when I was about three, she sent me to live with her eldest sister, because her life got too, ah, interesting. Like, her partner had a hit put out on them. It wasn’t safe for me. By the time I was six it all caught up with her, and she died in an accident when she jumped out of the passenger side of a car and tried to run away as it stopped at a red light.

That’s when her eldest sister adopted me. The paperwork was messed up and my name is different on my birth certificate, my SS card, and my ID. Then, the person who filled out the “messed up” paperwork was fired, but I’m still a mystery to the bureaucratic world.  

So here I am, same birthmark as my psychic grandmother, orphaned son of a savant creative criminal and a Japanese-American soldier, named after my Irish, gold hoarding, bearded, pipe-smoking beastmaster great-grandsire; raised by a celtic witch, hidden away from the official world. Sometimes I feel like all those hero origin stories are trying to call me out of hiding. More about my adventures soon.