#nay you must simply be cautious and hope

[noughticalcrossings]

Black Shuck

Inktober day 31. Fire

You may know him at once, should you see him, by his fiery eye

[itsclydebitches]

Hello, everyone! I come bearing a new recap series to fill the void until Volume 8. This came about because a bunch of friends went, “Hey, this book is really bad” and I responded with, “Really? I should check it out!” Now here we are. 

Thrilling tale, I know. 

The rules for this project are simple: 

Each recap will cover a single chapter

Each chapter will be read as time and energy permit 

Each chapter will contain typos because such is life

Recaps are a general response to anything and everything I notice about the text. This includes positives, negatives, and the wishy-washy stuff in between. Despite the summarized conversation above, I’m not going into this with the intention of ripping BtD to shreds, nor am I looking to absolve it simply because it’s ~RWBY~. I’m attempting to be as objective as one human individual can be

However, given that there will be criticisms (a lot of them so far)... any rude messages taking issue with that will unceremoniously be deleted :) 

Onward! 

We open with Sun’s point of view as he wanders the streets of Vacuo in the very late night/early morning. We learn that he’s been back for a month, but it’s “only now that he felt like he was truly home.” Why that is isn’t made clear. There are two actions connected to this thought: getting into a dangerous battle and helping out a stranger. It’s up to the reader to decide which (or both) is what makes Vacuo feel like home to Sun, but either is going to say a lot about his characterization. Is he a Yang, only feeling like things are normal when there’s something exciting going on? Or a Ruby, attaching feelings of self-worth and belonging to his ability to help others? As said, it’s arguably both. 

To clarify this situation: Sun is following a group of three who in turn are following a woman. He says that they were “three goons who were up to no good. At least he’d assumed they were up to no good when he spotted them stalking a woman out of some new nightclub downtown.” Which begs the question, which is it? Do you actually know the three are “stalking” her or is this another “assumption”? Are they up to no good or not? Retroactively, their fight with Sun and the narrative connections to the rest of the plot seem to prove that they are indeed baddies... but Sun didn’t know this at the time. By his own admission he’s drawing very firm conclusions (they’re “goons”) based on circumstantial evidence. I’m torn between praising him for taking action - that woman is presumably safe now thanks to him - and acknowledging that this is a problem with our whole cast. All our heroes jump to conclusions like this and have very confident ideas about who is “good” and who is “bad” based on little to no evidence. Really, I take far less issue with this particular situation and its context (Huntsmen in training sees a woman potentially in danger and takes non-disruptive action to try and prevent a tragedy. That’s good) than I do this trend of characters “assuming” things about others across the series. 

But enough on that. Sun’s plan to keep an eye on the situation fails as they “somehow noticed him” despite taking extra precautions to keep out of sight. From this he deduces that at least one member, Brown, is a faunus because the faunus are much more attuned to their environment. Both due to biology and growing up trying to keep safe from humans. I find the bigotry part of that explanation to be odd. I’ll admit that I might be reading way too much into this. So far there’s a lot in this novel that’s not obviously bad but did make me pause and go, “Ehhh...” Just because this moment draws a line between the racism allegory and (literal) animal traits. Take a second to swap out the fantasy term of “faunus”: Character, as a black man, is more attuned to his environment because he’s learned to protect himself from white people.” There is something to be said for minority groups being more cautious in specific situations, or being wary of how they present themselves to new people, etc. But in this case faunus are supposed to just be more attuned to things 24/7 because of fantasy-racism, which sounds a lot like an evolutionary, animalistic trait that they... already have? Saying that the character with animal eyes and ears can more easily pick up on someone tracking him is one thing. Saying that the discriminated against character can more easily pick up on someone tracking him because he’s just hyper-aware at all times very much like an animal...that’s “Ehhh.” It’s one of those things I doubt I’d be paying any attention to if RWBY had given us better representation overall. It’s reached a point where the way the faunus are handled is so messy that any statement like this invites at least a dollop of suspicion. But I’ll leave that to others to cry ���Yea” or “Nay.” 

So Sun is forced to confront these three. They wear masks and “matching silver armbands around their right biceps.” Sun thinks that they’re “just average gas masks” and thus way less scary than the grimm masks the White Fang prefers. All I could think was: 

Gas masks are plenty scary, Sun, you’re just watching the wrong TV shows.

These four start the obligatory pre-fight chit-chat which includes Pink calling Sun “kid.” Every time this happens I feel a tiny bit of my soul wither and die. The protagonists’ ages and the implications attached to them have been a thorn in my side since Volume 5. I mean, heaven forbid we acknowledge that these are teenagers often making immature decisions when the text itself keeps reminding us of how young they are. 

But I digress. 

As the fight begins Sun concentrates to activate his semblance and we’re given a rather strange flashback. Sun, along with his older cousin Starr Sanzang, are moving with their clan after their “previous settlement had become too attractive to Grimm.” Which is its own, massive can of worms labeled with the question “What suddenly makes a home ‘too attractive’?” But we have nothing else to work with there so I’m leaving it alone. The primary takeaway is Sun’s reaction to the move itself. He wants to know why they don’t fight and despite being told that a) not everyone in the clan is as strong as him and b) he has a tendency to be hotheaded (even though that’s presented as familial teasing), he’s not happy with those answers. It’s amazing how much of this characterization makes it feel like Meyers barely read the RWBY wiki, yet he’s simultaneously managing to hit on a lot of the series’ major themes - including the idea that heroes must never, ever retreat. We could easily take Sun’s thoughts and chuck them into any of Team RWBY’s heads during Volume 7 and you’d be good to go. Not standing and fighting when that would likely mean your death? The horror! 

This perspective also (for me) says a lot about his semblance itself. This is the moment where he starts working towards it, so given what we know about semblances, souls, and the circumstances in which they’re developed, I’d say his emotional state is pretty important. Sun wants to stay and fight. He’s told that not everyone is powerful like him. He’d need more people in order to defend his home. Then he literally creates more of himself to help him in battle. Problem solved. 

The strange part is what kick-starts this development. Sun sees a magical (???) tree that appears to him and him alone. It’s “a desert willow, green and flourishing with white, rose, and violet flowers” and it’s what he focuses on whenever he needs to draw on his semblance. It’s unclear what, if anything, this tree is meant to represent. There’s obvious symbolism regarding a “flourishing” plant in an otherwise desolate wasteland, but we are not (as of yet) privy to whether this tree is a real thing with a real, tangible connection to Sun. It would be easy to conclude that Sun just imagined it despite his own insistence otherwise, but in a story where semblances, magic, and gods do exist? Who knows. I hope this is going somewhere because it’s frustrating to drop something ~symbolic~ into a universe that’s supposed to be governed by concrete, magical rules and leave the reader floundering over how to categorize that.  

We come back to the fight where Sun decides that Brown was “both the leader of the group and the most dangerous. Why? Because he was hiding the most.”

Hold up. 

How do you know he’s “hiding the most” when they’re all wearing identical masks and doing the same, shady stuff? 

Why in the world is the concept of hiding things connected to leadership? 

Not going to lie, it feels like a dig at Ozpin. “Oh yes, the most secretive one must be the leader because we all know leaders do nothing but hide things. The two are so intimately linked that I can look at three people who are all acting suspicious, single out the guy who I’m assuming is a faunus based on no evidence, and thus further conclude - since he’s totally hiding that part of his identity - that he’s the leader here. Simple deduction.” 

Sherlock Holmes would be ashamed. 

More importantly, you know who’s also a dangerous leader who hides things? 

Oh, also this guy. 

But instead of acknowledging this we’re offered the simplistic explanation that this is the leader of the bad guys because only bad guys hide stuff. Right. 

I’m already getting the sense that Sun’s characterization - like Ruby’s - is going to suffer in this book. They should absolutely be written better given who they were when we first met them, but both end up being mouth pieces for the weird themes the story keeps insisting on including. To be clear, I’ve got a lot of issues with Sun in this story so far, but they’re issues that I don’t think should exist. It’s not “I dislike this character” but much more “I dislike this character but that’s only because you’re making them do and say really OOC things. Give me back the version of this character we had before.” There are characters I don’t vibe with and then there are characters who should be on my wavelength but the creators went and changed course somewhere. That’s always disappointing. 

(Aside #1: Can we just take a moment to acknowledge how awkward posing and answering your own question is when we’re supposed to be the PoV? That “Why? Because...” is incredibly jarring. I’m focusing on content over prose here, but the prose needs a whole lot of work in places.)

So Brown is apparently a faunus, and the leader, and hiding extra stuff because Sun says so. The two begin fighting in earnest (with Sun’s clones taking on the other two), but don’t worry, Sun has enough confidence to spare: 

“Brown had some kind of martial arts training similar to Sun’s – but he wasn’t nearly as good.” 

Brown proceeds to knock Sun down and disarm him. Easily. 

The fact that Sun can’t land a hit on this guy then causes him legitimate shock.  “‘Oh crap’, Sun thought. ‘I’m losing. How am I actually losing?’” I don’t know, maybe because you’re a second year student going up against an adversary of unknown age, origin, and skill? The confidence of all our characters is astounding to me. Doesn’t anyone ever question whether they can win a fight? Or acknowledge that losing one is expected? Both Sun and RWBYJNR seem to have come out of the Battle of Beacon thinking, “We have survived one (1) battle and therefore we are the best ever. Losing? Never heard of her.” There’s a difference between writing a confident character and writing a deluded one. Sun should not be blindsided by the fact that someone else in the world is more powerful than him. 

(For the record, the eternal exception to this is Toph Beifong. They really let a tiny blind girl say, “I’m the goddamn best” and made it fact. I am, and will always, be here for that.) 

Amidst this shock Sun thinks about Beacon and immediately shies away from those memories. I quite liked that. I wish the web-series did more to acknowledge how traumatizing that battle was (akin to what we got with Yang’s PTSD and Ruby’s nightmares before both were dropped), so I’m pleased to see nods to it here. 

Sun is just acknowledging how he probably should have brought some friends along when a copy of Tri-Hard lands nearby. Huzzah! Velvet is here! Sun should be pleased right, especially since he was just thinking about how much he needs help? 

“Great. Team CFVY (coffee) was here.” 

Ugh. Well this is frustrating to read. What precisely is going on here? Sun is the guy defined by “You should always get friends involved!” Then he ditches said friends to chase after Blake. While working through this decision he finds himself in a situation where he’s alone again largely because his team is mad at him. So he’s coming to terms with how much he misses and needs those friends... only to think a sarcastic “great” when someone actually show up to help him? 

He’s written as an asshole here. Velvet and Yatsuhashi save him - the three baddies use a smoke semblance to run off - but “Sun bristled at the implication that Velvet and Yatsuhashi had rescued him.” Can’t we have one character with a bit of humility? The writing attributes Sun’s attitude to a competitive school where prestige is everything. Team CFVY’s unexpected arrival and their subsequent fame seems to rankle... but we’re really going to ignore that they’re here because, you know, their school was destroyed and their headmaster murdered? I know that people think stupid, selfish things all the time (god knows I do), but it’s a bit much to have Sun be so over confident that he gets himself into serious trouble, get annoyed when he’s offered help, and then insist that he never needed that help in the first place. That kind of behavior rankles and for good reason. It’s fine as a flaw for one or two characters, but we’re seeing this across most of the main cast. Is no one able to look at someone outside their team and just go, “Thanks for the assist”? 

The one redeeming part of this scene is Velvet practicing her quips. I support her attempts to sound like a cheesy action hero. 

(Aside #2: There had to be a better way to deal with the team names other than writing “CFVY (coffee)”...)

As the three chat we learn that the rogue huntsmen Carmine and Bertilak may be involved with these shady characters, the missing people with powerful semblances, and I, who has not read the first book, learns about Gus, someone capable of amplifying negative emotions. There’s... a lot attached to that reveal, but I’ll leave it alone for now. It’s not fair to drag it when I’ve only gotten a passing mention. 

Alongside discussing Very Important Plot Points, the group dives into Sun’s difficulties with his team: 

“Besides, the guys are still a little annoyed with me for ditching them.”

“To chase a girl,” Yatsuhashi added.

“It wasn’t like that.” Not entirely. “Blake needed a friend.”

“And your team needed you,” Velvet said firmly. “After everything we saw at Beacon, with everything going on in Mistral—”

“They were fine.”

“But you’re their leader,” Yatsuhashi said.

“They’ll come around.”

“Maybe you would be able to regain their trust if you didn’t keep running off without them,” Yatsuhashi added, sheathing his great sword.

Sun narrowed his eyes. “I liked you better when you didn’t say much.”

Sun is, again, written as an asshole! It might be understandable that he wants to ignore all his mistakes, but that doesn’t make it any less frustrating for those around him - or the reader. Like admitting that he needs help and then getting annoyed when he gets it, here Sun refuses to engage with the actual problems in his behavior. He won’t admit those mistakes. You ditched your team to chase after a girl. No, no, it wasn’t just about chasing her... Your team needed you. No they didn’t! You’re their leader. Pff what does that have to do with anything? It’s deny, deny, deny. On top of a mean quip at Yatsuhashi. I’m just reading this train-wreck like

I want to re-emphasize here (because I keep getting asks with the accusation) that yes, I do understand that stories need conflict and yes, I do want characters to have flaws. It’s just that lately RWBY feels like all flaws all the time, most of which are never even acknowledged as flaws. Which mean the characters aren’t improving. There are very few moments lately where I feel like our heroes are legitimately kind, or wise, or intelligent, or compassionate, and that’s making it hard to connect with them. Knowing what I do of the fountain scene with Yatsuhashi, Fox, and Neptune makes things even worse. Would it be so horrible for Sun to be happy that his friends came to help? Or not sneer at Team CFVY so much? Or admit that he messed up? It’s the amount we’re getting across the whole cast that’s a problem, alongside rejecting other conflicts that would be much more logical for the story and much more emotionally fulfilling (such as Team RWBYJNR disagreeing about anything). I find it exhausting to watch. And now read. 

I did, however, like Sun calling Yatsuhashi out on his own insults: 

“Besides, people have attempted [invading] before,” Sun said. 

“Back when Vacuo had something valuable, like Dust,” Yatsuhashi said. 

Sun whistled low. “Spoken like a true outsider. If you don’t want to turn Vacuans against you, you’ll stop making comments like that.” 

Yatsuhashi looked away. 

It’s a legit thing to call out. Please don’t imply that our city has no value now that we’re not producing this specific commodity. Sun expressed those feelings in a way that didn’t crucify Yatsuhashi, but let him know he’d spoken out of turn and helped him understand why he, as an individual, should care about changing his perspective (“If you don’t want to turn Vacuans against you...”). I’d say this is one of the better exchanges in the prologue, showing us unexpected sides to each character (Sun isn’t just a laughing goof, Yatsuhashi isn’t the wise Asian stereotype) without them feeling OOC. 

We then end the prologue with Sun promising to help CFVY with these investigations. Offering on behalf of his team without asking, that is. I’m sure that will go over splendidly. 

As a final note before I sign off, I apologize if these recaps are... bad? Lol. Yeah, we’ll be blunt and straightforward in that description. While working through this I found myself reiterating so much of what I say in the regular recaps + asks, just because these problems seem to be creeping their way into RWBY’s supplemental material too. Doesn’t mean it makes for engaging reading though. In addition, I found myself struggling to articulate thoughts on this prologue simply because I didn’t know what to make of these writing choices. What’s up with that tree? Why are Sun’s thoughts going around in a contradictory circle? What am I supposed to do with all these lines that grind the story to a halt because my brain goes, “Wait what?” The easy answer to all this is, “It’s not a well written book, Clyde” and yeah. From what I’ve read for myself and heard from others, fair enough. But I feel like there’s just enough here - that potential RWBY is known for - that I want to try and clearly lay out as much as I can... even if it still comes out a bit muddled. 

It’s summer. I just finished another massive project. There’s a pandemic on. My brain is as fried as my eggs this morning. If you’re okay with the outcome of all that, stick around :D

[bisansastarks]

(Oh but She Burns) A Jonsa Fic 1/3

The Dragon Queen stays with them for a moon’s turn. 

Sansa remembers the day they arrive, her half-brother- nay cousin, and the beautiful foreign Queen. She looks beautiful and utterly alienating, all silver hair and violet eyes. It seems odd to see her on a horse when Sansa knows her dragons are nearby, circling. She watches Jon help her disembark her large black mare and thinks that it makes sense. That Jon has fallen in love with her. Even from a glance, she can see the power this Queen holds. Beautiful and demanding and chosen.

Sansa watches as Jon separates from her and scans the yard looking for his family. She is hidden from his view at the moment and drinks him in. His somber face and strong build- he looks like a Stark, he looks like her home.

They will write songs about their love, she thinks. About the two heroes who saved all of Westeros and fell in love uniting the realm. Life is not a song sweetling Sansa thinks, but for some people it is.

She spots Arya running towards Jon and turns around back into the castle. They deserve this moment, she will not take it from them.

Bran had told her first about Jon’s true parentage. And while she had believed her brother wholly, she had ignored it. Had told him simply it didn’t matter, that Jon was Jon.

 But it had been an unnerving moment for her, not because she suddenly loved Jon Snow less- but because of the hot and hopeful feeling that had squirmed in her belly when Bran had told her. She hadn’t understood it- she was losing a brother, she should have wanted to cry. And yet, she had almost felt like smiling.  An image of Jon standing in front of her seemed to follow her around all day: his warm grey eyes and his slight smile as he looked at her. She almost imagined he looked at no one else the same way and then had to shake away her silliness- she sounded like the girl she had once been, a stupid foolish girl.

And Jon was her brother, even if now he was really her cousin. Had always been her cousin.

She had carried this secret around with her for a week but of course, Petyr Baelish found out. Sansa wasn’t sure if he had always known or had been spying, but either way he knew Jon was not a Snow or a Stark but a Targaryen.

His words felt like a knife to her belly. Jon wasn’t safe now. Winterfell wasn’t safe.

“Sweetling, don’t you see?” He had whispered hotly into her neck, his hands like a vice on her hip, “This is our chance. He is not your brother. The North will never kneel to a Targaryen prince.”

 He had kept whispering and whispering. Filthy things that set Sansa’s blood boiling and made her ache to be more like Arya, to be quicker with a knife. How they could unseat Jon and unite the north under a true Stark. How Petyr Baelish could rule by her side as her King.  How Jon being the son of Rhaeger and Lyanna would give Sansa everything she had ever truly wanted but they must act quickly.

 So she had nodded, and later in front of the lords she had announced her betrothal. Petyr had smirked like he had already won, was already sitting on the iron throne with his ghost of Catleyn Stark. He followed her every where afterward, whispering more filthy things in her ear and giving her open mouth kisses that left her feeling sick.  

She wished for Jon truthfully. The  wave he had given her and his departure seemed burned in brain. She missed his steady presence even as Arya and Bran returned to her. Their pack was not complete without him. At night when she couldn’t stop herself she thought of him even more and the fact that he was her cousin now, had never been truly her brother at all. She felt that squirming feeling in her belly once more and feel asleep thinking of the color of his eyes. She awoke to Petyr’s embrace.

Petyr’s plan was to announce Jon’s parenthood after their wedding.

So Sansa had him executed on their wedding day.

It was  when she lay in bed that night after that she thought Petyr had been right about one thing.  Jon being the son of Rhaeger Targaryen and Lyanna Stark was in a way everything she had ever wanted.

She was a foolish girl of course, was she destined to always be that stupid girl she had once been? Petyr had informed her just a week past that Jon Snow and Daenarys Targaryen had become lovers.

It was just like the songs she had once loved.

 You could not tell they were lovers just from watching them, Sansa thought.

She sat to his right in the Great Hall as she as always sat. She ruled the north while he was away and she is rightful heir until they  produce a child. She will keep her seat until they pry her from it.

The Dragon Queen sits to his left. They are odd to watch. It’s not as if they seem uneasy around each other but Jon looks at her as if she is a question and he is not sure of the answer. He seems almost cautious in the words he uses around her.

Sansa of course has never watched him with a lover however. She does remember him at Winterfell all those years ago- how he never danced or smiled at ladies, her own feeble advice to help him. Jon can be awkward, perhaps that is all. Or they wish to hide their relationship. They must be so much sweeter, so much more passionate when alone, Sansa thinks and her stomach drops. She tries and falls not to think of how they must act in the Lord’s Chamber.

 It is, she thinks the sweetest of torture that he while he avoids his lover in public, he seems hell bent on seeking out Sansa.  He asks her opinion first during council meetings and walks with her through the wolfswood, his hand on her arm a sweet painful pressure. So different from Petyr’s cloying embrace, Ramsay’s violence, Joffrey’s insipid cruelty. While walking with him one day she is reminded of her father telling her he would find her someone brave, gentle, and strong. It seems that Ned had found her that someone- but Jon Snow would never truly be hers.

Jon even asks her to join her in his solar but Sansa declines. She cannot bare the thought of finding Daenerys in there with him, of stumbling on to a sight she doesn’t want to see.

In truth, she tries to avoid him. She has Brienne with her at all times and spends as much time with Arya or Bran as she can. Even then Sansa feels almost dizzy when he smiles at her, a smile she still thinks might just be for her. Worse however, is his face when she makes excuses, he looks so solemn and sad and terribly young. The gods have decided to be truly cruel to her, Sansa thinks, until she remembers that there are no gods.

 She breaks her vow to avoid him just once. When Bran tells him who his father truly is.  Jon looks upended so lost- her heart breaks for him in that moment in a way that it hadn’t in ages. She didn’t know she could still feel this much and it all for Jon, her Jon. He spends two days alone in his chambers and Sansa takes all his petitions, telling everyone their King is simply sick.  The Dragon Queen inquires as well and Sansa will not betray his trust, not even for his lover. The King will see no one.

   The Mother of Dragons must head back to King’s Landing for a while. Her rule is very new and while she trusts her Hand, she wants to get things settled before her and her army and her dragons go north of the Wall to fight the white walkers.

Sansa can’t help herself. She spends more and more time with her cousin once Daenerys leaves. She knows it will only break her in the long run- but oh, if it is not the sweetest torture. It seems they do everything together now, her and Jon and Arya and Bran. It is the happiest she has been in so long.

But she knows in the deepest part of her that she is a greedy creature, that she wants more. Sansa forgets herself watching his hand point on a map one day- imagines how it might feel on her hip. Her neck, his mouth on her mouth. How gentle he would be- how rough the callouses from his years of training would be. She thinks about coming in to his solar and turning the kiss he lays on her cheek every night to one on her mouth, again and again. She watches him train in the yard and sees how graceful he is, the lithe movement of his body, and feels like the wolf she is, ready to devour. At night she lays awake and thinks about how soft his lips might feel, knowing she’ll never know, until her stomach turns liquid hot and she uses her own fingers, already wet and wishing for his. She wants and she wants and it never goes away, just consumes her more and more.

   That night they are in his solar late. Bran and Arya had left an hour past, claiming their siblings were boring them with the tedious work of looking over ledgers.  Truthfully Jon and Sansa had stopped looking them over a while ago and were now deep into cups of Arbor Gold (a gift from Daenerys but Sansa doesn’t much care when it is so sweet and Jon is smiling so freely).

 “And then Daenerys introduced herself,” Jon is speaking of his time in King’s Landing and sloshing his wine with every word. He is truly gone Sansa thinks, but then so is she. His eyes have not left hers in minutes or perhaps it just feels that way, but is more intoxicating than the wine. She feels bold and reckless and half mad and would do anything to keep his eyes on hers.

 “Daenerys Stormborn, Queen of the Andals and Essos, Mother of Chainbreakers” Sansa giggles into her goblet and then realizes what she has done and flushes beat red. Oh no, Jon will be so angry. She refuses to meet his eyes for a moment and waits for the reproach.

And then she hears his laugh. In fact, he is laughing so hard that he slips from his chair and spills all his wine. The lords would find this all rather undignified for their King in the North, but Jon simply shrugs and stays where he is. He looks content there- wine soaking his shirt and all, Jon is still smiling. He has been doing that more frequently recently- Sansa knows he is relieved to have three dragons in the fight against the white walkers. She also thinks he’s just growing into his role as King: he has always been kind and just, thoughtful with his decisions, all things that make him a great King, but he seems more comfortable with the title now.   He does seem rather disappointed about his wine however, so Sansa offers him the rest of hers.

“I believe,” he says once his laughter has stopped, “It is mother of Dragons.”

“Oh yes, the mother of Dragons” Sansa says loftily, and then for no other reason than she misses her wine, she joins him on the floor so close their knees are touching. She can feel his warmth through the thick layer of wool and inhales sharply. His eyes are on her and feels like he is studying her, but Sansa doesn’t know if she is the question or the answer.

She wants to be the answer.

It occurs to the part of her brain that has any sensibility left that this is entirely inappropriate. The king and his unmarried cousin, his Hand? (what exactly is her title) alone in his solar drunk and sharing a goblet of wine. But it is too easy to ignore, Sansa reasons, when the wine is so sweet and his touch is hot against hers. She steals the goblet back and is so aware of where their fingers had joint and looks away again.

“Sansa,” Jon says softly, “Sansa.” Again, when she doesn’t look at him. I am steel she thinks and turns her head.  His face is inches from her and Sansa feels her stomach somersault, wonders if this feels similar to riding a dragon. Does Daenerys Targaryen feel this when she rides her great black beast? Or does she feel this when she looks into Jon’s eyes too?

 Jon reaches out and takes her face in his hands. It might be the wine or the gentleness of his hand on her check, but Sansa swears everything in the room blurs down to his eyes and their shared breath. Sansa feels herself distantly, an echo of a thought, wonder how his lips would feel on hers and then he is kissing her. Oh, he is kissing her. It feels like stepping into a warm hot spring, it feels like her body is finally truly awake. She forgets about the threat of the war, she forgets about the ledgers, and her own bumbling inexperience. Jon doesn’t seem to mind at all- his hands gripping her waist now, as he kisses and kisses her with a ferocity that is all wolf and no dragon.

Is this how he kisses his dragon queen? She wonders distantly, a knife in her belly. It is Petyr. It is Ramsay. It is Sandor Clegane’s rough pull and being told over and over that she is only a little dove.

This is not your song Sansa Stark. You are no Wilding. You cannot steal it.

She pulls back and her heart breaks all over, as he follows her with his eyes still closed.

“Jon” Sansa says in the quiet of the room, licks her lips and tastes the arbor gold and wolf. She needs to say it. She needs to say we cannot do this. But he keeps looking at her, looking at her the way she had always imagined Aemon had looked at Naerys. How Florian had looked at his Jonquil and she cannot.

“Sansa….” That’s all he says, just her name. But oh, it is the sweetest sound she has ever heard and no one had held her name like that before: with gentle care but such fervor as well.  She is a wolf too and tonight she will take it, take him. She fears no black beast, no fire, no beautiful queen and no heartbreak.

She kisses him this time and it all teeth and open panting mouths and a heat far sweeter than anything she has ever known. It is his rough hands unlacing her dress and his mouth following each bit of skin exposed. It is his scars and her own. It is the way he looks at her while buried deep inside her, as if she is the first day of spring and the way she looks right back.

Afterwards he keeps her hand on her belly and she falls asleep listening to his breathe besides her. Right before she drifts off, she feels a cool slithering of alarm but it is so easy to ignore as the fire crackles and Jon is right beside her. She drifts right off.

[7deadlycinderellas]

Keep on smilin’

(in which I see a movie, and manage to barf out a fic within a week)

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/17404283)

Michael Banks was eternally grateful for the six extra years they all got in the old house. Six years that could have been stolen from them.

For it was 1940 and Cherry Tree Lane, nay, the whole of London, had transformed.

Jane had been the first to feel the wind changing. She’d been out of work for the first two years after Winnie had been born, and when everything had settled, she found that someone with her organizational experience was suddenly in great demand, and the position of helping coordinate the ambulance services for local hospitals had become one of great importance. Many of her coworkers were from families who were high up in politics, and they talked.

She had been nervous about going back to work with Winnie still so young, the question of her mother’s life niggling in the back of her head. Money was still tight, nothing to pay for a true nanny. What her and Jack would have given for Mary Poppins to return to them again at that time.

It ended up being almost a non issue. Winnie was a self possessed child even as a toddler, and turned out Ellen’s sister (who had moved in with the Banks following the scare at the bank) was a former school teacher who could spare an eye during the day. Ellen herself tutted at the arrangement, at least before slipping Winnie a sweet.

“I hate leaving here all the time, it feels like taking advantage of poor Ellen, you know how she always reacted when Father and Mother tried to convince her to watch us.”

“I’m home half the time as is Jane, working on my art, it’s no trouble at all. It’s the least I can do to repay you for all you did to help out after Kate passed.” Michael assures her.

The true answer appeared in Georgie, who adored his young cousin, and when out of school spent much of his spare time reading to her from storybooks and pushing her down Cherry Tree Lane and in the park in her little wagon, later tied to the rear of his bike.

Michael had been the next. The handful of pieces of art he’d completed and sold through newspapers and magazines had earned him a name, and a man visiting the bank one day had given him a business card and told him that if the wind kept blowing the way it did, he might be in touch.

In his office years later, drawing barrage balloons and Spitfires, he mused that no one had ever told him war could be a boon for an artist in need of a job.

Before Winnie was born, Jack had taken a job as a tram driver. Though he really missed the routine of lighting the lamps, most positions had been eliminated when the city changed over to electric lights. He chose to revel in the ability to still lead people home at the end of the night. One night at the flat, he told Jane about a supervisor at work who had inquired about his age.

“He said something about positions being reserved after a certain age.”

“Conscription? We’re not at war yet- why would they even be talking about it?”

Jack’s age ended up keeping him out of the forces, but he told Jane that most of his former fellow lamplighters joined up. For some, it was a god’s send.

“Nothing quite like a war for opportunity, it seems.”

John and Annabel had studiously read the newspapers and listened to the newscasts, still retaining a bit of the tiny adults they had spent far too much of their lives being. Annabel, in particular had decided it was her life’s goal to become a journalist.

A few days before the big news, Annabel heard the announcement that the government was evacuating children to the countryside.

“If there doing this they must have a reason….oh but John, we can’t leave everyone!”

“They do seem to be being overly cautious, it’s not like Germany’s declared war or anything….”

The twins shared a look.

“We should remember this. It might end up being safer. For Georgie and Winnie at least. But we musn’t worry Father and Aunt Jane”.

When 1939 had come, and the first air raid sirens blared after Chamberlin’s words on the wireless, only Georgie and Winnie seemed truly unawares. While they cowered in the cellar until the all-clear, Michael was so grateful that Jane and Jack had come over for breakfast. At least they were all here.

Winnie was frightened by the noise, so Georgie pulled her into his lap.

“Don’t cry Winnie, just pretend we’re on an adventure. This isn’t a cellar- it’s a cave! And on the other side is a magical valley! Where elves live, and fairies,”

“And unicorns?” Winnie wants to know, sniffing.

“Of course!” He adds enthusiastically.

“And animals that talk!” Annabel adds. “Just be careful of the wolf, he might not be trustworthy”.

Michael raised an eyebrow. The children had of course told them all about their adventures that awful year, but they hadn’t spoken of it often. Whereas him and Jane had seemed to forget Mary Poppins, these three had seemed to simply move on.

Eventually the all-clear comes, and they leave the cellar and go on. They put up blackout curtains, carry gas masks and line the house with sandbags. The young men in the neighborhood were called up for military service. Even Admiral Boon abandoned his cannon. Him and Mr. Binnacle even did their part by joining the Home Guard.

But still, no bombs fall. And for a time all seems well.

“Some of my schoolmates who left have already returned”, John comments around Christmas.

“It does seem like it was a bit of an overreaction,” Annabel admits. “Maybe this will be over soon.”

1940 comes. Ellen despairing at the state of her meals now that rationing had taken hold.

“Can’t bake hardly anything with the butter and sugar they give us, and feeding you lot was hard enough as it was.”

Annabel had dug up the zinnias and planted some potatoes and carrots, but Ellen still insisted that if the ones’ who had hired her were still around could see what she put on the table now, they would have thrown her out on the street.

“What do you think Mother and Father would have thought of all of this?” Michael asks one day.

“Mother and Father both saw the Great War. That was the world they left when the flu came. To think they lived in a time of prosperity when they were our age. It’s completely changed. I don’t know what they would think of where we are now.” Jane admits.

“I could hardly blame them. We’re all on tenterhooks.”

The unspoken between them was the fact that the family was still together. The children being at home and Michael’s work for the War Office precluded him from being conscripted. Jack, it turned out, had been correct in his assumptions about his supervisors questions- bus and tram drivers over 25 were considered too important to draft. Though Jane admitted that she still had a niggling fear that that might one day change.

One night he told Jane what hurt him most was that they took away the light on the fro of the tram. Complete blackouts all night, even a tiny gas lamp could be a risk.

“Can hardly see a thing at night. Always afraid I’m going to hit someone. As if the crowds on my tram weren’t ashen faced enough as it is.“

Jane held tightly to his hand. Always a leery at heart, and here trapped in darkness.

The older children march down the street with Winnie a number of times. They map out every single house with an Anderson shelter, and every tube station, between the schools and home. Georgie, again, tries to get the girl to see it as an adventure, like the marches were the world’s biggest game of hide and seek. Michael just feared that one day, Georgie’s own childlike resolve would break.

Once during a raid, Michael sees the older children showing Winnie the bowl they used to keep in the nursery (how it never broke during the Admiral’s cannon fires he will never know), and over hear them telling her.

“There’s magic everywhere, you just have to remember to look up and find it. Even when things are hard. Especially then some might say.”

Annabel keeps tight to her radio. Despite the quiet, Germany invades Norway, then the Netherlands, and then France.

And just when the rest of England seems to practically have become compliant, summer comes and the first bombs fall.

The church down the road is destroyed. The park is burnt to a crisp. Jane biggest challenge at work becomes guiding people around fire and debris to help the ones they can. She suddenly has all the work she could ever want, and never enough vehicles or doctors.

Some nights the older children don’t return from school until late, stuck in the shelters waiting for the all-clear, hoping that they continue to be alive to hear the explosions.

One night Jack doesn’t return until sunrise. Jane cuddles Winnie in one of the apartment buildings four underground shelters fearing for the worst.

When sun comes along with the all-clear, he finally emerges from the dark, eyes bright when he sees the two of them, alight.

“I was about to clock out when the sirens started.” He says, breathy, barely able to stop embracing Jane and Winnie long enough to speak. “We all had to dash for the tube station. There must have been two hundred of us in there overnight. So many of us it seemed we might suffocate.”

“I’m so glad,” Jane implores, voice wavering. When they settle Winnie down over breakfast, so adds.

“I never thought I would have this. I always thought I had to pick, that I couldn’t live in the world my mother wanted for us and be a wife and mother. Then you came along.”

“I showed you the light, you might say?”

Jane nods. She spares another glance at Winnie.

“Mother always said ‘our daughters daughters will adore us’. It’s so strange to say, that admits a war, that it’s nice to be needed, for my work to be valued. It feels selfish, but it’s all we can try to do, for them as well as us.”

She reaches over and smooths Winnie’s hair, and dreadfully misses the other children, even as they’re just across town.

There’s no more hiding it. John and Annabel go to their father with the paperwork. Three more days of terror, and all four children are hastily packed and taken to the train station to be evacuated.

Jack had had to go to work early and couldn’t them seeing them off. It had taken him nearly ten minutes to let go of Winnie in the morning. She doesn’t stop tearing until they meet up with the others, bags in hand, signs around their necks.

“Keep good care of her will you all?” Jane says, tearing up herself.

Georgie takes Winnie hand tightly, and Annabel wipes her face with a handkerchief.

“Wouldn’t imagine doing anything else.” Georgie assures her. His other hand is holding his carpet bag, a copy sticking out of Peter Pan.

“Do they know where you’re going?” Michael asks, anxiously. They always managed to act so big but right now his three children seemed so very small.

“Australia,” Annabel says.

Australia, both Jane and Michael thought, that’s a whole half a world away.

“I thought most of the children were being sent to Canada?” Michael asked, shocked.

“Anywhere that will take us. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see a kangaroo,” Annabel adds, trying to sound light, to steady her father’s nerves and her own.

“We’ll be fine Father. There are no bombs in Australia. As far away as we’ll be from you, Germany will be even further.” John assures him.

No bombs. Such a small wish it would seem.

“Fly a kite for us will you?” Michael asks, embracing John and Annabel in turn, Jane following him after.

“We’ll fly one every day we can.” Georgie promises.

The train whistle sounds, and the four children grab hands and turn away from Michael and Jane. The siblings hold onto each other, and Georgie tight to Winnie, as they fade from view.

That image won’t leave Michael. The next time he has a moment to himself, he pulls out his sketchbook and draws them, in middle of a crowd of faceless children. And as an afterthought, he adds balloons into the distance, and a barely recognizable figure holding an umbrella, leading them towards the balloons through the sky.

Maybe he could use it for an evacuation poster.

After that, the days turn into weeks, and autumn comes. The day raids slow, but the night’s are still hellish. The sights of smoke and fire are every day, and everyday, more of the familiar city disappears.

Michael’s at work when it happens. He never thought he’d be grateful for a day raid.

When he returns, all that’s left of Number 17 Cherry Tree Lane is a pile of wreckage.

Head swimming, Michael barely as time to think before he’s joined by Ellen and her sister, who had been at the grocer’s, and are now by his side, cursing the Germans.

“We’ll all be flattened, and they still won’t be satisfied will they?” She insists. Her voice is enraged, but her eyes are wet. Number 17 was as much her home as theirs.

They all crowd into Jack and Jane’s tiny flat, so empty now without Winnie. Jane has a night shift at the hospital, and the others have already tried to get some sleep before the nights raids could start. In the dim light of the single gas lamp they keep lit, Michael wallows.

Everything lost say the clothes on his back and briefcase. So many things. The dishware passed from their parents, the knick knacks Kate had brought to their marriage. And the photographs…

Michael feels his eyes stinging again with tears. Memories could fade all too easily, compared to pictures.

Pictures.

Removing his sketchbook from his briefcase, Michael commits it to paper. Number 17 Lane as it was in full bloom. It’s spring in his drawing, the cherry trees are in bloom, and the Banks family stand in front.

In his drawing, Kate is still there, her face as clear as in his mind’s eye. His parents are on the steps, in the flush of their lives. The children are as grown as they are now, Georgie flying his kite, while John and Annabel look on Jack and Jane stand off to one side, a little in their own world.  Michael thinks, and adds two more small figures to the roof of the house beside them, twirling amidst what must be the soot.

He would draw it as it was, as it had been, as it would always be for them, no matter where the rest of the world took them.

His spirits are lifted a few days later, when the post comes in. Jane hands him the envelope.

“They don’t know. I’m amazed this even got through.”

Number 17 is written in John’s neat script, but the drawings inside are Georgie’s and Annabel’s. They both had inherited Michael’s artistic skills, but Annabel was far too sensible to indulge them much.

Her drawings are of the trains, the ship, the farmhouse where they have been billeted. Georgie draws the kite in the sky, the chickens and sheep, and yes the kangaroos, though they look far more ordinary to Michael’s eye than what the children had probably thought. John’s letter inside is equally reassuring. They are safe, and together. Winnie swears she saw a mermaid on the trip, and all four speak of having never seen the sun so much in their lives.

“Don’t worry too much of us Father,” Georgie adds as a post-script, his handwriting far shakier than his siblings, “we could never have imagined such an adventure. “

Michael tucks the drawings in his jacket pocket. When he goes to work the next day, he sees a poster someone has put up from the US.

“Keep em’ smiling with letters!” It says, with a drawing of a smiling serviceman accompanying.

And for the first time, in a long time, Michael feels like he might be able to.

[thesparkandtheking]

why stiles and derek are back as sterek

I said I wouldn’t get involved anymore and just enjoy the ride for what it is but alas I’m bored and sterek still haunts me at night 6 years later. 

I think most of us came back from our respective garbage cans when we saw Stiles and Derek grace our screens again and together nonetheless. We’re back at it again, but I know we’re also cautious and calling it for what it is. At the end of the day though, let’s agree that we’re all here because we love sterek, no strings attached to teen wolf. So let’s go from there. 

As the hype kinda died (until it airs that is), all that is left is to replay those 4 seconds of sterek until the skin of my forefinger is scraped away. And now, what I’m struggling with is quite simply sterek. 

It would be foolish to hope for endgame, I know, but at the same time, there are things that don’t make sense. Color me surprised, we’re dealing with teen wolf.

First thought is that it’s a big ass effort to bring back both Dylan and Hoechlin. It is. It’s not just a call all like “so how are you feeling about making an appearance on trash wolf”, “hell yeah sign me up”. No. It’s planning and contracts and like 6 people making a decision and Dylan and Hoechlin with their busy careers. It’s an effort okay. Big one. So why would they do it?

Level-headed objective answer is: Stiles and Derek are fan favorites. Nay, they’re the two most loved characters. Of course they would bring them back for the last season. It’s for the fans. Any show would do that for the fans.

But now satan intervenes and it’s like let’s be honest this is teen wolf and jeff davis. How much would they actually do for the fans? They never gave a shit, why would they now, at the very end? Even if it’s for profit. 

Which brings me to my second train of thought. Queerbaiting is basically profit. But are they really making profit from sterek? Not really. The season is already filmed, ratings don’t really count anymore, and hell, they have a reboot on the way. MTV doesn’t give a shit. Sterek/Stiles & Derek are not being brought back for profits. Period. It’s a fact. Accept it.

Now publicity and hype are another thing. Imagine, in an AU, sterek is canon.This show will be remembered as a representation pillar for the unforeseeable future. Jeff Davis would be finally remembered as something positive. Point here is that it’s a good thing and no one can deny it - no freaking media outlet, network, or producer. Not to mention that this is the last season. There would be no pressure of validating or continuing this godforbidden gay ship.  

So taking into consideration the effort of bringing hobrien back, along with this being the last season, and the positive promotion that stiles and derek would entitle, I do have a bit of a “hope” encouraged by the trailer. Hear me out. 

From that supposedly 2 year future flash we get that Stiles is in the FBI and he’s in the DC. But then we get Stiles carrying Derek in the same flash forward. More than, from the people in the background, we can gather that Stiles and his team are there as well so clearly some shit is going on. So if shit is still going on in the future I can draw two conclusions: 1. It’s not serious. Like who would kick start another plot during a series finale. So it must have a higher reason. 2. Derek is on Stiles’ end. Which also means that they kept in contact, which is not that groundbreaking, but showing that after two years and when Stiles is on duty should count for something. I’m not saying it should count for canon sterek, but still. 

Point here is that I want you to grasp the importance of showing Derek and Stiles together after a 2 year gap. Stiles is still the one supporting Derek. Like, how is that still a thing. It’s not about canon at this point. I don’t need an endgame. This is it. Stiles will always be there for Derek and that’s canon. Even after all this time. Thing about it is that it’s predictable and reasonable. Of course, them being friends/family entitles that they are there for each other.

But as in many cases before, showing it makes all the difference. 

It’s not Stiles supporting Scott, it’s not Stiles supporting Lydia, it’s not Stiles supporting his father. It’s Stiles supporting Derek.

Film choices.

And I’m sure there’s even more to it than we know right now. 

So this is what makes me be all torn up about it. I’m not looking into it as a big proof of anything and I should just enjoy sterek on my screen, but honestly? Even though it’s not suspicious that Stiles and Derek are brought back, it is curious how they’re brought back together.

Am I hoping for sterek endgame? No. But I am looking for some kind of closure. 

[aurevoirscarlett-blog]

“Classic, Timeless, Essential”

     As I have grown, my love of fashion has grown along with me. As exciting and my journey has been, it had been a struggle for me to find myself and my own personal style. That is until I came across the all time must haves: simple, easy to coordinate clothing, that is easy to individualize with your personal flare. I find these pieces to be closet staples! These basics provide an effortless option for looks that are easy to dress up or down for any occasion, and can survive through the ages. Let’s begin!

Plain White Tee

You guessed it! A classic white tee is a must have for any season. Pair with dark wash denim, cigarette pants, or an a-line skirt. Any shoes will do you justice, just be careful to keep a solid flow throughout your outfit. I find them to be extremely versatile, and comfortable. I cant tell you the amount of times I find myself reaching for one. You simply can’t go wrong with a fitted white T-shirt!

  Cos Classic T-shirt in White

    Sharp Blazer

Easily draped over any outfit, a crisp blazer makes a great addition to any wardrobe. For a sophisticated look, try pairing it with black tailored pants. Classic colors include Navy, Black, and White, but I personally love a deep sangria red. You can dress it down with your favorite jeans or leggings, and layer it over a cashmere sweater and chunky scarf. Honestly, I used to dislike blazers, thinking they looked to business casual. Recently however, I’ve grown so fond of the look! I guess I just had to dig a little deeper and see all the ways to make it casual!

  Balmain

Club Monaco

Dolce and Gabbana

    The Button Up

A personal favorite, the classy button up. I absolutely love the simplicity of these shirts. They always make my outfits look so put together and posh for lack of a better word! I think white is a must have colored, but I cannot deny my love for blue or black banker stripes. I can’t resist a button up with rolled up sleeves, paired with leather loafers, jeans, and large black sunglasses. Just thinking about it makes my heart beat a little but faster.

  Turtle Neck Sweater

When you think of a black turtle neck sweater, you probably think of Steve Jobs or have a dramatic flashback to the 80’s. Despite this initial impression, I think turtlenecks are super stylish and practical for winter. They provide the necessary warmth and comfort for those chilly nights out on the town or for a weekend brunch. I’m really loving the edgy look of black on black denim right now, and I think a turtleneck is a must for everyone’s closet.

  h&m Ribbed Turtleneck Top

Allude Cashmere Mock Neck Sweater

Victoria Beckham Chunky Turtle Neck Jumper

  White Sneakers

Sneakers are the essence of a casually cool look that combines style with comfort. Honestly, who doesn’t love white sneakers. They can go with practically any outfit. Whether it’s jeans and a T-shirt, or tailored highwaters, white sneakers will make any outfit comfy and clean. Some of my favorites include Vans Classic Slip-Ons, Keds Champion Originals, Versace High-Top Palazzo Sneakers, and the Minna Parikka Bunny Ear Sneakers. Also, if you’re looking to add a little boost to your height, a great pair with a subtle platform are Superga 2790.

  Superga 2790

Versace

Minna Purikka

Cigarette Pants

  Pointed Pump

Whether for a party, date night, or simply wanting a finishing touch for your outfit, a classic pair of pointed pumps are the way to go. Personally, I like solid colors he most, because it makes them easier to style, they are universally chic, and they are timeless. I mean have you ever seen a time period not wearing them? Pointed pumps loo good with every outfit, ranging from shorts and blouse, boyfriend jeans and a distressed t-shirt, and of course an elegant dress.

  Stuart Weitzman

Christian Louboutin

Topshop

    Loafers

When loafers come to mind, I think of a posh prepschooler with expensive, but excellent, fashion taste. In my opinion, slip-ons make any outfit classy and effortless, just be cautious with what you pair them with. They always look timeless with a simple outfit, and I love to wear them shopping for a comfortable shoe wear option. From skinny jeans, cigarette pants (as previously mentioned), or a simple skirt, loafers can take any simple outfit from nay to yay.

  Asos

Stubbs & Wootton Nitenday Slipper

J. Crew Mirror Metallic Penny Loafers

  Universal Handbag

I am a sucker for handbags; but only very classy ones that suit my style. While I do enjoy drooling over seasonal bags, my bank account isn’t on the same page as me. So in order to fulfill me desires, I wait until sales and think long and hard before making the commitment. I want a handbag that will stand the test of time, and provide a good quality design. When choosing a handbag, I recommend purchasing one that is a neutral shade, or is known to be a staple. Also, make sure that you love it! So with that being said, I’ve left some suggestions below!

Prada Cahier leather velvet shoulder bag

Louis Vuitton Speedy 30

Gucci GG Supreme Top Handle Bag

  That is all I have o share now with the colder months approaching! I will probably make a follow up for some of my other favorite closet staples as the warmed months com around!  hope you enjoyed this! I would love to hear from you abut your additions to this list! Love.

  Au Revoir,

Scarlett

x

Timeless Wardrobe Essentials "Classic, Timeless, Essential"      As I have grown, my love of fashion has grown along with me. As exciting and my journey has been, it had been a struggle for me to find myself and my own personal style.