#wish rewritten

[rascalentertainments]

You know, if Disney had gone through with the concept ideas, I imagine this would most likely the biggest and central part of the movie poster. Its practically everyone's favorite piece from the art book and its had multiple takes on it through fan arts. It would be the "heart" of the movie right there. Have the header be "When wishes come to life"

Hell, you could even add in Magnifico, Amaya and Charo looking down and scheming on how to get Star for themselves. It would've looked awesome!

[aregebidan]

“who are you? i don’t even know your name” “don’t be in such a rush. you will give me a name someday. and i live in terror of that day” / “i’m afraid to turn around. not of your anger, though. i’m afraid i’ll see nobody” / “go on dreaming. when you dream about my likeness you create it” / “when you loved no one you never thought of death” / “give her proof of her love” “shall i?” “kill her before she sees you” “no!” “then kill yourself” “how?” “let her go”

literally who is doing it like them. no one. no one. no one.

[magnusbae]

If you're interested, here's a prompt from the ones who just shared:

"Then why did you do it?" "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"

No rush hehe I hope you get rest and have fun writing this!

Now, see, I could have taken this as an open prompt and went with something else, but I know you like dreamling and so I was good.

Thanks for the prompt dear! 💖 Also special thanks goes to @cuubism for actually going through it 🌻🌻🌻 any mistakes are me ignoring her wisdom or straight up forgetting to edit it. one of the two.

Dreamling - some flavor of hurt/comfort(?) 'you dare?' kind of situation going on there, 1,394w

▾▾▾

“I cannot fathom why—” 

Dream halts mid-sentence, his outrage rendering him speechless for a precious moment in which Hob tries, fruitlessly, to come up with a way to placate him, to explain in a way that will somehow pass as acceptable to Dream. The betrayal is tangible in the air, so charged that Hob’s hair actually stands on end as if from static. It feels like standing at your front door, still safe but seeing the hurricane on the horizon, knowing that this false safety can and will change in moments. Hob cannot think of a single thing. 

“You.” Dream grits his teeth so tightly that they scrape loudly, the sound of it making Hob’s own teeth ache uncomfortably. “Know.” Dream says each word as if it takes a great burden to even use human speech and not simply burn a hole in Hob’s mind. Given Dream’s past record, which Hob had recently learnt of, perhaps it does. “You know I do not ask.”

“I know.” Hob winces.

There’s no denying that he knew. Knew full well that asking Dream’s sibling for help was a guaranteed way to not only outrage him, but also land Hob a very creative punishment and the end of their long friendship.

He knew that, and did it anyway. 

Would again, if he had to.

He will not apologize for that.

Dream seems to come to the same conclusion, cheeks reddening in a surprising display of humanity, of lack of control over his appearance. The darkness that creeps into his eyes is distinctly not human. Hob shudders but fixes his eyes on Dream’s, refusing to avert his eyes like a reprimanded youth. He did what he did, and he’s not sorry.

''Then.” To Hob’s surprise, Dream seems to level himself, to school the darkness out of his eyes and ask with a calm that is somehow more unnerving than his rage. “Why did you do it?" There is a finality to this question, like a judge asking for one last confession to tip the scale one way or another. There will be judgment at the end of it, Hob knows. 

“Because…” he sucks in a breath, there’s a ball of nerves in his stomach and frustration, surprising him with its intensity, it feels almost like anger.

Why is he here, searching for excuses for something he believes in wholeheartedly? He doesn’t want to learn firsthand of Dream’s notorious pettiness but he’s not here to play these sort of games. 

The outraged huff is stuck in his throat— he didn’t even realize he had raised his voice this much, not until the ring of it strains his ears. He is practically shouting. And he doesn’t care. 

 ''BECAUSE I LOVE YOU.''

There’s anger in it, frustration, a measure of desperation.

“I bloody love you more than I fear you, that’s why.” His own cheeks burn, itch, tingle with the indignation of it all. “Because I’m a besotted fool who would make a pact with the devil if I had to, if it meant helping you.” He gestures curtly at Dream, then spreads his arm in an exaggerated motion of question. “Why else? Seriously, why else?!” He stops at that, breathing harshly. This is not how he had imagined, not even close. Fuck it. And fuck Lucifer, too. And Dream’s all too pleased sibling, on top.

Through his outburst Hob had stopped paying attention to Dream’s face, only his eyes, latching onto them as if they were his anchor in this universe, the only constant thing, in life, in this.

When he finally looks, really looks, he realizes with a start that Dream’s cheeks are no longer red with anger, that his eyebrows are not as tightly knitted, that his pale lips form a small and lax ‘o’. 

His friend looks taken aback, pacified and…surprised.

Like he couldn’t fathom this being the reason for Hob’s supposed betrayal of trust. Like this was the last rationale he had expected to hear, like he, an Endless being of incomprehensible wisdom, is unable to conceive this simple truth. Like he’s at a loss now.

Like he’s a bloody idiot. Hob shakes his head in amazement, his own anger evaporating as quickly as it came. Yet again he wonders how it is possible to be all knowing and yet so blind, so oblivious to such a simple truth, one Hob didn’t even try too hard to hide, really.

“I know you didn’t want me to,” he softens his voice, speaking more quietly “but I really didn’t have a choice. If I could do this on my own, you know I would have, I’d do worse for you.” He smiles at Dream, he doesn’t even try to sound self-deprecating, it’s the honest truth. He would.

His hand drops by his side and he awaits then, for his judgment.

“You love, me?”

Hob doesn't know how to respond to such a simple question other than–

“I do.”

There’s nothing else to add to that, he said it all, he did it all, even Dream must understand this is no passing fancy. One does not risk their immortal soul for something insignificant. Especially not Hob. One does it when it means everything. And in this case, it did. Dream did. 

Dream seems to again, come to the same conclusion. 

He wilts, shoulders sagging. He looks both much older and much younger at the same time, like this knowledge has stricken him, hurt him.

“You shouldn’t” is all he says. 

“But I do.” Hob answers in return. 

“I see that.” Dream’s voice is a whisper carried by the breeze, gentle, endless, aching. He looks torn in that moment, the judge whose scales no longer measure in any understandable manner. He casts his gaze down. 

“Just let me,” Hob says. He did not come here demanding boons, nor love, only to help Dream. “Forgive my impudent human inclinations to save what I love, and let us continue as we were. Friends. “

“Friends…” Dream repeats after him, as if in disbelief.

Dream opens his mouth to say more—to accept or refuse, Hob doesn’t know—but in that exact moment Matthew half-crashes, half-lands on Dream’s shoulder, a flutter of black feathers and barely muffled curses.

“Boss! Oh for fuck’s sake— I mean cracker’s sake— I mean what the hell— I mean you’re fine—you’re actually okay, I was sure that this time you’re like legit—” he notices Hob then, and cawing loudly he curses again “You actually did it you son of a bitch— you really did!” His wings open excitedly, brushing against Dream’s face, covering it up.

“Matthew.” 

“Uh-” Matthew folds his wings immediately. 

Hob looks at Dream then, the moment is decidedly broken but he has to know if he’d see him again, he can’t just go on not knowing, it’ll drive him insane. “Dream—” he starts, but Dream speaks over him.

“We will discuss this—” Dream’s lips tighten, eyes flicking to Matthew and then back at Hob. “At a later time.” He concludes rather curtly, seemingly deciding that addressing exactly what they will be discussing is not something he wants his Raven to be privy to.

“Right…” Hob murmurs, not speaking further of the topic either. It’s one thing to break Dream’s boundaries over life and death, another entirely over his own impatience and need to know. Dream wanting to see him again at all is already a damn good sign, and Hob will take it, gladly.

“I’ll see you later then, Dream” He uses the name even while not being sure he is still permitted to, that he did not lose the privilege. Dream tilts his head but doesn’t object, instead he nods once and disappears in a swirl of golden sand.

“Show off…” Hob murmurs into the empty air, shaking his head in disbelief. There’s a good feeling in his gut, he should probably be worried but he has a feeling that things will work out, that it all will be just fine. He can’t explain it, but he has learnt to trust his gut over the years. After all, it once led him to believe that he would never die.

It was right then, and it’ll be right now too. He and Dream will figure it out and will be better for it. Just like the other time, just like always. 

[wishmaster]

I dont want to be the school scrawny nerd anymore, i want to be the school big beefy hairy himbo and everyone treat me as the himbo i am.

Tired of being the tolken scrawny nerd of campus you made your wish and headed to the shower after what seemed like forever, you reached for a towel and began to dry off.

Fuck you say, noticing you voice was much deeper and you were no longer in your own shower, you looked around, you were in a gym now and you caught a glimpse of yourself in a mirror, what the hell you dropped the towel showing off your new massive body, you watched as your new thick tool twitched when you looked at yourself. you walked as you did pants covered your cock and firm ass.

Without thinking you stared working out, each pump causing you mind to loose it's once .. what's the words you struggle to thing, smarts you say, yeah you feel dumber with each flex words not so good remembering you now, you garbled mind strains to form even a logical sentence.

You laughed at the word logical thinking a word that big must have been naughty.

You pump more iron and soon you can't even remember where you live or your own name, You get bigger, more hair grows from your face, had you been able to form a thought or memory you'd remember you wanted your whole body to be hairy, but alas it was what it was.

You shout out feeling your new strength and personality set in.

FUCK YEAH!!! you announce as you garner attention from the other guys in the gym, something about the new you seemed to draw them to you. Suddenly you found yourself on your knees blowing every hot guy in the gym, their sperm wiping what little thoughts you had left. Now you thought of only 2 things, working out and getting bigger and Sex, you had quickly become the favorite Himbo of the gym, you lived there now, fucking as many of the the guys you "trained" your scrawny nerd life was gone, you were the ripped Himbo of your dreams and you became almost everything you hoped, other than your hairy body, it was now covered in ink, you'd thank me if you could as the tons of cum you were covered in by the end of the day was much easier to get off this way. Enjoy your life..you? What was your name again? that's right you don't even remember.

[thelastlaff]

flippers (flippy slippers)

[morsartis]

Miscommunication

Gamzee x Standoffish!Reader

.

Life wasn’t always kind, it didn't wait for people to catch their breaths, it didn't let you get used to what it threw at you, and it certainly never slowed down. Life had taught you the best thing to do was to meet it halfway and keep trudging. You had built a calloused exterior over time to deal  with it. The sort of exterior that pushed people away because you couldn’t bring yourself to accept a hand held out in your direction. There was always some clause, some string, attached and you’d be damned before you fell for it. So for all of life’s pitfalls you’d hardened yourself against the potential. It worked as long as you didn’t count all the people you never meant to rub wrong- which you rarely did. If people were meant to be in your life they'd chip away at the walls you'd been steadfast in reinforcing, though you could admit to yourself you often made it far harder for people than you meant to. A small sacrifice for protection against getting hurt again.

Or so you had told yourself.

You’d been happy to be a prickly douche to whoever so much as looked at you for too long, snapping and glaring at every little thing life threw at you, and then you'd met Gamzee. The most spaced out, laid back motherfucker you had ever seen. Nothing fazed the troll. No barbed comment, no sneered look, no potential fight. It was as if he lived in a perpetual bubble of chill and good peace. After awhile it seemed almost cruel on your end to be mean to him at all. You’d been looking for a roommate to share your apartment with- rent was getting tighter each day and you knew it was only a matter of time before a check finally bounced- and Gamzee had simply made himself right at home. 

You had wanted an Alternian roommate specifically to guarantee they’d mind their business so you could mind yours. Too bad Gamzee never got that memo. Or maybe he had and simply ignored it. Just like he’d ignored your attempts to make him leave you alone and stop letting himself into your room to “hang” or sprawling along the couch to be in your personal bubble. No matter how many times you snapped and snarled and attempted to get him to do as everyone else did and fuck off he had remained. In fact the more you tried to scare him off the more he seemed to make himself right at home. It completely baffled you at first as to why you couldn't make him leave and then slowly you had begun to accept it. 

Begrudgingly and with the same level of discomfort as someone having their teeth pulled. 

That seemed to be all Gamzee needed to get truly comfortable. The minute you had begun to see Gamzee as a friend and start to open up to the clown he’d dug his claws in with all the glee of a child refusing to let go of a beloved toy. He invited you everywhere with him, sometimes not even waiting for an answer. You had thought it the desperate actions of a quadrantless troll- until he finally introduced you to his “palest of diamonds”. Karkat was like looking in a fucked up funhouse mirror. The two of you snapping at each other and pushing away in all the similar ways. It was no wonder Gamzee had seemed so comfortable with you. He had a type! And apparently you fit the bill. It had taken much longer for you and Karkat to get acquainted than it had with Gamzee but when you did it was clear the clown had used the same tactics he was using on you now to get Karkat as his moirail. 

A complete and utter disregard for your stubborn and standoffish nature. 

Though according to Karkat your long term roommate had a dark side, one you hadn’t seen and was hard to believe, but sometimes you thought you caught glimpses of it when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Calculating lucidity that would flicker in his otherwise stoned and glazed over eyes. It was easy to dismiss. 

But today you were reconsidering that dismissal. 

It had started out all the same. You’d had the day off work and had taken to lounging on the couch with your phone using the TV as background noise. Whatever conversation you had started out having with one of your few friends had devolved into archaic memes and had long abandoned coherence a good fifteen minutes or so ago. Gamzee would be home soon, you had memorized his schedule out of necessity from the times he’d wandered into the bathroom to grab some of his things while you had been showering. The mortification had been brutal and your landlord had banned changing the locks in the apartment for reasons lost to you. So the bathroom lock remained broken and you had memorized Gamzee’s schedule as a consequence. Since then there had been no mortifying bathroom mishaps. Not that Gamzee had seemed bothered at any point, he hadn’t been creepy about it either, just grabbing his things as if you weren’t there at all. You weren’t sure whether to be grateful or concerned but had settled uneasily on grateful. Today was no different than any other when he got back. Humming and chuckling to himself as he shed off his jacket and left it on the floor when he came in- another losing battle with him- before wandering into the kitchen without a care in the world. It was as if he hadn’t even realized you were home as he rooted around in the fridge for what you assumed was faygo. The two of you would have to go grocery shopping sometime soon, food and drinks were getting low again. You could hear him shut the fridge with his hip and the soft hiss of carbonation as he unscrewed the lid on his soda and wandered into the living room where you were still curled up on the couch. For a moment neither of you said anything and then you could feel as his eyes slid to and over you. Again that rare lucid clarity came to his eyes in a brief flash before it was replaced by the ever present glaze as he smiled wide to see you. 

“Hey buddy! You all up and got the day off?”

“Yeah. Figured I’d just relax.”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.” He was still smiling that crooked smile as he hooked one long leg over the top of the couch and began climbing over it. You watched mildly unbothered by whatever strange fancy had struck him now as you continued sharing memes on your phone with your friend. Unfortunately that was all the acceptance Gamzee needed to plop onto the couch and then flop directly on top of you.

“Gamzee what are you doing?” You asked calmly. Maybe a little bit tiredly knowing from the start that it was a losing battle. 

“I’m just gettin’ my cuddle on.” He replied cheerful as ever. One arm snaked underneath your back to wrap around you as he began slowly inching his way up your body to rest his head on your chest. He’d had the fortunate thought to tilt his head so you wouldn’t be gored by his long goat-like horns. But it didn’t stop him from snuggling himself closer. Sighing heavily you set your phone aside and wrapped an arm around his neck. 

“Didn’t we have a talk about this yesterday?”

“I dunno. Did we? I just wanna get my motherfuckin’ cuddles on. Feelin’ all sorts a clingy lately.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked curiously but Gamzee’s mind was clearly already drifting away as he snuggled into your hold. One of his hands dangled off the couch with the bottle of faygo and you hoped he wouldn’t drop it. It took forever to clean up and you’d just cleaned the rug not even three days ago. For a while the two of you just laid there, Gamzee’s ear twitching as he listened to your heartbeat. His clawed fingertips on the arm wrapped around you tapped what you figured must be the beat of your heart on your side. You were half asleep underneath him, the chilled weight of his body helping calm you, when he finally shifted. You glanced down at him and found his chin resting on your chest as he looked up at you. Again that lucidity had returned to his eyes as he watched you. 

And then the unthinkable happened. The thing that turned your thoughts on the clown upside down. 

He slid in closer and before you realized what he was doing he had pressed his lips to yours. The first thing you registered was that they were cold, the second thing had been the slick slide of the greasepaint he wore as his mouth moved against yours, and the third was the way he was still staring at you. His eyes were still open, still watching, as he pressed his mouth to yours insistently. Your sound of confused surprise was muffled as he shifted his head just so and his tongue licked across the meat of your bottom lip. Eyes wide and shocked you tensed and he nipped lightly at your mouth before pulling away a more smug smile on his face. 

“You taste like popsicles.” He told you voice pitched strangely. Swallowing nervously you struggled to find words to even say to him. 

“Gamzee?”

“Hm?”

“What the hell was that for?” You hated how meek you sounded but the shock had been too great. He’d never even given you an inclination he saw you as anything more than a good friend.

“A motherfucker can’t just all up and kiss his matesprit?” He asked, clearly confused. 

“Your what?” 

His eyes suddenly went as wide as yours, a startling look on his face as he seemed to struggle to keep them open most of the time. 

“Oh shit.” He breathed, “I forgot to ask you.”

[rudnitskaia]

Just finished to watch Wish. Have thoughts. A lot of.

Actually, I have a lot of not-so-pleasant thoughts about the modern scriptwriting in general, and for a long while already, but Wish made me sigh so incredibly deeply that I woke up my cat. The concept of Wish is wonderful, brilliant even. But in my opinion, unfortunately, it wasn't developed right. At all.

So, I decided to share my usual mental gymnastics in fixing the script. It's only my personal try, nothing else.

There's a very wordy text under the cut.

I warned you. Very. Wordy.

For the start, in the original script there was no motivation for Magnifico to become a villain. His ability to make EVERY wish come true ANYTIME is a HUGE hole in the plot. Instead, the gaining of this ability must have been Magnifico's main motivation. It immediately sets the conflict with the Star, who has such an ability, but uses it improperly (in Magnifico's opinion).

At the same time, make Magnifico the man who will be extremely dutiful and tired ALREADY in the beginning of the story. A wizard who lost everything once and wants to build a safe haven full of happiness for everyone so desperately that it twisted his nature.

Don't make the main problem in him taking away others' wishes. Set the main problem in Magnifico's twisted rationality and the fact that the weight of responsibility broke him. Remember this passage: this will be important later. For that let me slightly change the concept: instead of Magnifico's rule of taking away the wishes to set the rule of forbidding to tell it aloud to anyone except the King of Rosas himself. It also gives us a wonderful parallel with the “wish upon a star” concept, a wish that you should make silently and not tell anyone after that or it won't come true. Like, if you live in that country and tell the wish to Magnifico, it casts a spell on you that forbids you to talk about the wish. It's explained by the fact that it forms a bond between the wish maker and the wizard, and that bond is the seal for magic to work, since the creative source of the wish itself gives the wizard the power to fulfil it. But Magnifico can fulfil only one wish at a time and it takes a lot of his own magical powers/lifetime/[insert any other difficult ritual], so people must wait in line. Simple. Sets the logical boundaries to his powers and explains why there’s a rule of “one wish per person”. Optionally, maybe there can also be Genie-like rules of “no wishes to make someone to fall in love or to be killed/revived” etc. People can come to the King and change their wish if they want, they can still make attempts to make other wishes come true if they want, but they're just happy with the fact that if they wait in line long enough someday their dream will be fulfilled with a 100% chance without ANY effort. So why bother?

Make Asha Magnifico's dutiful apprentice for a while, a year or two, already at the beginning of the movie. Give her some magical powers and make her struggle with the fact that Magnifico can't fulfil any wish at any time, too, make her desperately wanting to fulfil every wish without waiting for that for a long period of time. She helps people, she's in contact with them, she gives them minor magical things daily, like to help someone with gardening or wiping away dust with magical broom. But she wants more. She wants to be as powerful as Magnifico and to serve people. And her curiosity when she searches for a way to gain powers to fulfil any wish, her desperate desire to make all people in the Kingdom of Rosas happy summons the Star, who can't go back to the sky until he fulfils Asha's wish.

Show us the Star as a carefree eternal being; a trickster because of their lighthearted attitude. I saw the concept arts for Wish where the Star was a “Jack Frost”-type young man, and still think that's a pity they changed it. I get that by such a change scriptwriters eliminated the romantic subplot with Asha, but I guess many would be much more intrigued with the silent young man who's curious to everything around him and isn't attached to the real life on Earth due to his god-like nature. So, further I'll refer to the Star as a young man.

Asha truly believes that fulfilment of her wish can be reached only if the Star fulfils all the wishes of people in the Kingdom of Rosas. And the Star truly carelessly fulfils any wish of anyone he meets on the streets, and so far, we see a good fella in him. But soon enough Asha and the Star see the consequences of their wish-fulfilment raid. In a short while people seem not so happy. The people of the Kingdom of Rosas start to suffer with jealousy to each other, start to become greedy. For example, there were two guys who wanted to become the best bakers of all, and they become ones, which causes them argue and ruins their friendship, since there can't be two "the best of the best". Others start to fight, to be anxious about their own wishes, to constantly ask for more and more in a way of “they have it and I want it, too!”, and so forth. The more wishes are fulfilled without any effort, the more people wish for. And such scenarios are everywhere. Literal chaos on the streets.

Moreover, the “fulfilment” of Asha’s wish seems to not help the Star to return home. That's why Asha goes to Magnifico in search for his wisdom and help and acquaints him and the Star fella. Magnifico convinces Asha and the Star that everything can be fixed.

With the Star’s help he performs his magic and makes people of Rosas to forget their wishes, returning them to their “normal state”. That's when we and Asha will accidentally know that Magnifico's rule not to tell anyone but himself about the wishes was because he didn't fulfil the real wishes: using the power of the wish he fulfilled something that he considered safe instead that won't harm anybody and made those people forget that they wished for something else. Asha is horrified by the revelation, at which Magnifico tells her that this is the necessity and the ruler's duty, since wishes can be dangerous and controversial, just as he does in the real animated movie, but now with the evidence that Asha sees herself on the streets. People fight with each other and wish each other bad things. Some could wish to destroy the country. Some could wish to harm someone. Moreover, wishes can argue with each other, just as it happened with those two bakers before. Someone will inevitably be miserable in the end. And the only way to prevent that chaos, to make everyone truly happy, is to make the fulfilment of the wishes controllable.

Asha is utterly broken, thinking that maybe Magnifico is right. Maybe it is better for people to live in a happy controlled oblivion. She leaves the Star with Magnifico, telling the Star to listen to Magnifico since he knows better how to make everyone happy, and walks away.

Meanwhile Magnifico goes through his final arc. What happened on the streets because of Asha and the Star makes him remember how he lost everything in his childhood because of some intruders, and gets the horrifying idea to make the whole world similar to the Kingdom of Rosas. So, he finally decides to take away the Star’s power. Magnifico convinces the Star that he can arrange a magical ritual: that a spell can create a portal in a magical mirror that reflects the sky on a sunset, and that portal will lead the Star home. The Star asks (in gestures) to invite all the people to see him depart, since he got attached to them. Magnifico agrees to that, since no one will suspect that the Star will vanish and not depart.

That's how we get a villain with a God complex: a villain whose greatest desire is to make everyone happy, but in a way he sees happiness himself. Good intention at the beginning, that was awfully twisted. But it's a real motivation. That's why he wants to take away the Star's power. He wants to make everyone in the world happy. In exchange for their free will.

To make everything what I stated above work properly there must be ONE supporting character who silently works to fulfil their dream themselves during the whole movie. And they become the one who'll tell Asha: “I can make it on my own. I don't need any miracles. What's entertaining in gaining what I wish for so easily? Will it be a wish if I get it so easy? It gives my life the sense, the taste; the goal is good, but the way itself is as much valuable. The small help you and my family gave me, Asha, was enough.”

And for Asha, suddenly, it clicks. She understands that people don't need all of their wishes to be immediately fulfilled. They just need to have some support on the way. To share their wishes. To be together through thick and thin. That’s the happiness. That’s what was wrong with fulfilling her wish and why it didn’t help the Star to return home. She gains information from the supporting character about the ritual on the square and rushes back to Magnifico's castle, since she is Magnifico’s apprentice and she knows that the ritual with the mirror is not what it’s seems. It's the evil magic. The one who charmed the mirror gets all the magical powers of the one reflected in it, and the reflected person will be trapped in the mirror forever until the death of the mirror’s creator.

That sets “the final fight”. Asha runs to the square in front of the castle and stops ritual. She reveals what Magnifico was about to do and what Magnifico did the whole time with controlling their wishes. She tells them a heartfelt speech about her revelation of true happiness and asks people how many times they wanted to share with each other what they wanted the most, but were supposed to stay silent, how many things they could have done together, but didn’t because they simply waited for the wish to come true in complete lonesome instead of making memories on the way to fulfil it themselves. No one believes her, since everyone loves Magnifico, but the Star opens the hearts of the people, making everyone’s wishes visible, and everyone see their own wishes and Magnifico’s cruel wish, too. Frightened with the rebellious crowd, Magnifico quickly sets a magical barrier and tries to finish the spell he started to perform to take away the Star’s powers, but Asha interrupts and turns the mirror to reflect in it Magnifico himself on the last words he says.

Magnifico becomes trapped in the mirror (yeah, yeah, I preserved that reference :D). The Star grants Asha with access to his powers through the magic wand, showing her that he trusts her and believes that she’s the golden middle between careless himself and “the control freak” Magnifico. That she has wisdom “to give people the rod and teach how to use it”. Then the Star can either stay on Earth, because he simply enjoyed the life there, or walk away to the sky. Optionally, with Asha herself. The End.

All of that sets the main idea and the final moral: there are good wishes and bad ones. Not every wish can come true. You must work hard yourself to make your wish come true, and the harder you work, the more valuable the result is to you. The true happiness is not only the final destination, but a journey to it through the life itself. And no matter what, there's always a place for a miracle, even a small one.

If you read it to the end, first of all, WOWIE, THANK YOU 😳, and second of all, sorry, it was truly wordy. It's just... I don't tell what I wrote is flawless, but at least I tried to do my best to fix the literal holes, eliminate lack of characters' motivation and make the characters work for the story, because God knows how tired I am to see good-but-underdeveloped concepts in the modern media.

I wish it changes someday.

[ivyprism]

WAAAAAAAA RAINNNNNNNNNNN

So you have a lot of outcodes skeletons. There's the old aus, the void travelers, those villain papyri you love sicking on me, the dream walkers, the typical inks, errors, nightmares and dreams and bad sanses... I can't remember if there were more but what do they all do in the multiverse? Like do they all have different or similar goals? Are they friends, enemies, rivals? Who even knows each other?

The Outcodes are all in a truce because of the actions of someone they can't seem to remember (Senna). Their relationships vary from person to person, but most of them get along.

Their main goal is to stop Toxin and save the multiverse. They just seem to do so differently.

The Old AUs are active fighters against Toxin and are actively working to stop him, ensure that all injured parties of Toxin's schemes can survive in the sanctuary, and save their homes. They are mostly focused on the restoration of fallen AUs as well as the restoration of their homes.

Lenovo and Virus help Antitoxin look into the codes of the AUs destroyed by Toxin and see if they can salvage the code and rebuild from it... But sometimes, they can't salvage the code, so they have to destroy the AU in its entirety.

The "Bad Sanses" help the "Star Sanses" (both names inaccurate because there are Papyri in both of them) find AUs ravaged but not destroyed by Toxin to save what's left and rebuild the AU if the code is severely damaged.

The Void Travelers are the only ones who seem to remember Senna and they are mostly in charge of healing and hospital efforts. They take care of injured survivors of Toxin's attacks, but they also sometimes reside in the Main AU to just be normal doctors.

The Guardians of Negativity and Positivity are mostly the ones who prepare their troops for fighting. They also personally plan every attack and attempt against Toxin. Comet and Umbra act as mediators for their brothers who often have conflicting views.

The Dreamwalkers mostly are hands-off because their domain is dreams and, while they are reality benders, even they have rules against interfering too much. They mostly work with the Gods.

The Bookkeeper's Technicians are aware of what is going on in the multiverse, but their goal is to keep the library (which is full of history and codes of fallen AUs) functioning.

They all seem to have some knowledge of one another, but they only have a vague idea of the Bookkeepers since they are mostly hands off.

-H

[galaxythreads]

i know - i know - that querying involves a lot of rejections, and by god have I got them, but I got a rejection from an agent I really thought would like my og book and i feel really, really, really discouraged right now. :/

[skunkes]

im so easily placated i feel but i saw dis today and i feel a bit better about stuff

text

like ohh okey <3 yey <3. (and especially since ive been using "mashing *dolls in dollhouse together in my brain" metaphor... felt like a really needed thing to see)

[glitziinova]

*taps microphone* uh women. *audience cheers and throws roses on stage*

[gaypiratebrainrot]

the good news is: i finished the first draft of one original writing project and immediately started writing the first draft of another original writing project, and am currently cooking with gas on it. (this is very good news)

the bad news is that it might be a while before i write anymore fan fic. i will definitely write more fic! but yeah, might be a while.

[billiejean485]

I don't know why all of you got so depressed by the S5 ending - the story is obviously not over!

It has the same feel as the S3 ending did. Luka and Kagami just weren't going to stay with the two protagonists, and it was so obvious.

Maybe just to me, with my 30 decades of experience of romantic series and movies - but at least those of you that were over 20 at the time could probably smell the shift coming. And look where we eneded at today! Adrinette!

If I could bet, I'd say that the future will come back to this exact point, be it by Lila's doing or LB & CN figuring it out somehow.

Gabriel is NOT going to stay the hero of this twisted story he made real. It makes no sense for the narrative.

And Adrien still has to grow in search of his freedom, so it being set on pause also makes no sense.

We'll be seeing Gabi Grassette in the future again, I'm sure of it.

[wishmaster]

Oh Wishmaster! I request your help! I'm a prince in my kingdom and I'm supposed to take the throne after the King, my father, has passed. But I'd rather explore the world as an adventurer than rule over a kingdom. Plus, I hear there's load of hot men in the kingdom who'd like to plow my royal ass. Anyway you can help me?

My handsome and glorious Prince as you wish you shall become a grand adventurer with a legion of young men to assist and please you, your first and most loyal group your majesty.

But my Prince your Royal ass has become somewhat a jewel through out the land it's always on display in the firmest of beauty in tight leather, leading dozens of horny young men to discover and stake their claim to it, which you love to let them find, teasing it along the way in hopes of having many nights to remember.

Perhaps you highness will allow me to help christen your royal ass before you set out?

[universe-of-heart]

Growth of New Beginnings

A Rewritten History of Fire and Blood

Ocs in fic

Author's note: Honestly, not my favorite chapter but has my favorite moment. I found info on deleted scenes so I threw them in there :). I am not paying therapy bills btw. Moon phase border by @samspenandsword, MDNI banner by @cafekitsune

Word count: 5548

Warnings: Sad, angst, age gap marriage, some birth stuff but not much, vague suggestions to sex in a loveless marriage, very very VERY minor fighting at the end. I'm making characters who didn't talk about their feelings in the show actually talk and be friends still

Daemon didn’t return from Dragonstone. Official news reached the Red Keep days after Corlys had stormed out of the Small Council chambers that they both had begun an engagement with the Crabfeeder and the Triarchy themselves, along with his brother, Vaemond, and his son, Laenor. Unofficially, dragon keepers had let the Crown know earlier that Caraxes had taken flight from Dragonstone with his rider on his back. Guards still remained there, guarding his paramour whom he had seemingly left there as if she was already royalty, fit to rule what no longer belonged to him to claim. 

Once again, he went unpunished; the Crown had more to worry about within its own walls.

Rhaenyra had fled to the Dragonpit immediately after the marriage was announced. Syrax felt like the only one the princess could trust anymore, hating the overwhelming feeling of betrayal that seemed to follow her no matter where she went in the Red Keep. Jae volunteered visiting Driftmark for a time; it would be a change of scenery for the girl that she could use to spend time with Laena and not worry about the responsibilities of the Crown. And that seemed to help, for a time. Laena and Princess Rhaenys suffered grief in the absence of a father and husband, a brother and son, and the young Velaryon became attached to the princess at the hip. The two made promises to exchange letters and visit each other often as the length of Rhaenyra’s visit grew longer and longer and the looming expectation to return to the Red Keep grew ever bigger.

Alicent stood outside the Dragonpit after the extended journey had taken nearly a month. Rhaenyra hadn’t even wanted to return home, but a raven requesting her return to assist in Small Council meetings had been sent a week before she returned. To wait any longer risked turning those who swore their loyalty to her against her, proving to the men of court that maybe she was simply an emotional girl who wasn’t fit to be the future queen. Rhaenys had advised her to return along with the raven. If anyone knew the cruelty of court, it would be the Queen Who Never Was.

The great yellow dragon bowed her head to her rider, churring deep in her chest before the keepers led her back into the pit. Rhaenyra wondered if she could follow them and stay there instead of the Keep before she turned and saw her friend waiting in front of the royal wheelhouse. It felt like no time had passed between that moment and the day she’d gone to see her mother with Alicent, smelling of dragon and completely oblivious to what would happen days later. What she would lose.

“Rhaenyra,” Alicent said softly, barely trusting her voice to carry across the courtyard.

The princess wanted to cry.

“I don’t understand it.”

Alicent looked down at her hands, picking at the side of her thumb.

If she was honest, she didn’t understand either. She didn’t understand how her father could manipulate her to win the king’s affection, despite never trying like other ladies would have. She didn’t understand why Viserys had wanted so desperately to keep their talks private. She didn’t understand why he had chosen her, in front of the entire Small Council, and why he had driven a wedge between her and Rhaenyra in the process.

Rhaenyra’s chin jutted slightly, a quirk she always did when she tried to keep from crying. She hated it. She hated the entire Small Council, she hated her uncle, she hated his mistress, she hated her father, she hated her dead baby brother. If he had lived, none of this would be happening. The weight of the kingdom wouldn’t be upon her. Her father wouldn’t have been pressured so much to remarry if he had had a prince. A son. 

Something she could never be.

“Rhaenyra, please-”

“Why?”

If she knew why, perhaps Alicent wouldn’t have felt so awful.

It was a betrayal she felt she’d been forced into. The entire month Rhaenyra had been gone, she had sat and wondered about what had happened and her role within it. Alicent had begun to wonder why her father would put her in such a position, why the king would allow such obvious overstepping from his Hand. It was obvious more then than ever what Otto had begun to plant the seeds for, what he had no doubt been wishing to do for ages. Perhaps it had not always been as cruelly thought out, perhaps he had wished her to be older or wiser or more willing to put herself between the king’s grief and himself. Perhaps he did not see it as twisted as others did, did not see it as a power grab. Alicent hadn’t, at first. She had found it odd, even upsetting, to visit the king so privately after the loss of his wife, but she hadn’t seen the darker intent of her father before it was too late.

Before the king became infatuated with her. Her, his daughter’s closest friend, his Hand’s daughter, a girl who had barely considered happiness after the death of her own mother.

When the silence stretched on, Rhaenyra grew angry, frustrated even. They had been inseparable for years, they laughed together, cried together, mourned their mothers together and now her closest companion had all but become a stranger to her. Just another lady of the court who wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t speak to her in fear of crossing her. 

“Say something!” She wasn’t sure if it was a plea or an order.

“I never intended for this,” Alicent barely whispered, voice shaking as the words stuck thick in her throat. “I didn’t know, Rhaenyra, you must believe me.”

Perhaps, once she would’ve. She wasn’t sure what she believed anymore.

“Then, what did you intend? You accompany me, you mourn with me, and yet my father chooses you as his second wife! What reason would he have to do such a thing?”

Alicent shook her head slightly, hands trembling. “I never…I never intended…”

Rhaenyra released a shaky, wavering breath as she blinked back the tears threatening the waterline of her eyes. “I will only ask you one thing and you must answer honestly. If our years as friends have meant anything to you, you will answer me honestly.”

She was almost too eager to nod, her chin wobbling behind the weight of her emotions.

“Did you seek out my father’s affection on your own?”

Alicent looked exactly as she did the day she shared with the princess that her mother died. Small, fragile, and withering away before her very eyes. She looked as though a breeze could blow past her and she would crumble to dust. She looked like a child.

“No.”

The moment Rhaenyra’s arms wrapped around her, Alicent wept.

The weeks leading up to the wedding had been a special kind of hell. Alicent had still refused to share anything beyond what had already been said, an act that neither knew if it was loyalty or fear. All the same, the princess was at her side through all the planning, all the primping and pampering, and for every night following such matters that was spent crying over a childhood ended. When Rhaenyra stood behind her father that fateful day, she just remembered being furious. There seemed to be no guilt or shame from Viserys and there was a certain smugness that radiated from Otto that he didn’t even bother hiding. It was then that Rhaenyra pieced it all together. Resentment grew quickly in her heart as her glare leveled with the Hand of the King across the room.

Standing with the rest of the lords and ladies, Jae was doing the same.

They’d spent the time while Rhaenyra was away begging the king to reconsider. Telling him how this betrothal, this plot, was bound to doom he and his daughter to eternal mistrust. Alicent was her closest companion, her only confidant, and he would take her from the princess by the end of the season.

“What other choice do I have?” He had asked them, in the privacy of his chambers. 

In the small moments between them, he had seen the comfort Alicent had given him. Yet, it hadn’t been because she had wished to. It had all been Otto’s idea and he hadn’t known. Jae wanted to scream it, to drive it through his head until he understood, but it would’ve all been pointless. It would cause more grief, more suffering. If Viserys sent Otto away while Alicent had no courtly standing within the Red Keep, she would leave with him. She would be forced into even more misery.

So, Jae remained quiet. There was no other choice, was there?

Rhaenyra watched Alicent walk gracefully up the hall of the Sept with her brother guiding her. She hadn’t seen the poor boy since the tourney, where her uncle had unseated him in a less-than-kind manner. Truthfully, she hadn’t even seen him then, his helmet had hidden his features fully. He looked like Alicent in many ways, though with sharper edges and more anger than fear. He looked as miserable about the entire thing as the two girls were, though he made less effort to hide it. Alicent looked to her friend for a moment before Viserys took her hand and Rhaenyra barely managed a small smile that didn’t wobble under her flood of emotions. She hated the helpless feeling as she watched and listened to her dearest friend shakily recite the vows the Septon had said, watching the cloth cover and wrap around the joined hands. Alicent had looked radiant in her wedding gown and grand tiara, a mix of white, red, and gold decorating her. Still, the princess felt ill the entire time, watching the dragon wings on the dress flutter with how much her friend was trembling.

She remembered helping her lace the gown and looking at their shared reflection in the mirror, just as they had done when Alicent had helped her the day she was named heir. She was paler than Rhaenyra had ever seen her before, smoothing her palms over the length of the dress to keep from picking at her fingers. They’d barely begun to heal since she picked them raw before and Grand Maester Mellos had threatened to bind her hands completely to force her to stop until the wedding. Rhaenyra was certain that if he tried, Syrax would welcome a fresh snack.

“Is this what you truly want?” She had asked, stepping closer behind the bride-to-be with a furrowed brow and glassy eyes.

Alicent had simply remained silent, not lifting her eyes to meet the reflection. That would make it real, a future she couldn’t escape from despite never choosing it. They both knew the answer, though it wasn’t as if saying it would change a thing. They were both powerless to stop either of their fathers.

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra tried again, moving to her side to slip her arm through hers. “Please.”

Brown eyes met violet ones and she quickly looked away as her lower lip wobbled. She had barely turned seven and ten and felt half that age, shaking within the fire-lit room. She longed for the arms of her mother, Rhaenyra’s mother, any mother that would make better sense of it all. Instead, she leaned into the princess, letting her forehead rest against hers even as the curls piled high on her head threatened to topple over against the hold of the seemingly hundreds of pins holding it together.

It felt pointless entirely and still, she couldn’t say she hated it. Not aloud, at least.

Rhaenyra did not sleep the night of the wedding and Alicent did not seek her out the following day. Instead, she stayed in bed, weeping, only allowing Jaeda to see her. 

The sheets were changed and Viserys stayed in separate chambers until the next time.

That was how time passed. Alicent became accustomed to her place in the Keep, in a new room that was larger than the one before with more Targaryen things than Hightower, and the new title of Queen Consort tacked onto her name instead of Lady. She was glad for the company of her dearest friend after the initial shock had worn away, craving the gentle affection and delicate hands that the princess had always had when they spent time together. It seemed the princess was more careful with her after the wedding. Alicent didn’t seem to notice.

Many had thought the marriage between Alicent and Viserys would have driven the princess away from them entirely. More had called it a betrayal, assuming the former Lady Hightower had sought out such a union herself to elevate her standing, assisted by her father in the process. However, it only served to bind them closer and many lords would say it was rare to see the new Queen without the princess attached to her hip, the princess’ loyal sword trailing behind them like a guard dog. 

That was how life continued in the Red Keep for a handful of weeks, perhaps even a few months. When Viserys requested Alicent’s presence, she would hide away for a time until she felt Rhaenyra would not look at her with disgust, not knowing if she would hold such things against her. They would spend time together, learning the ins and outs of court side by side during council meetings or tutoring by Jaeda. Rhaenyra even convinced Alicent eventually to board Syrax with her, though the height on the dragon’s back alone had scared her enough that the princess didn’t dare push for a flight. Alicent swore Syrax had laughed at her shaking legs once they’d dismounted.

The door to Jae’s room swung open slightly quicker than anyone would usually open it and on the other side stood a poor handmaiden who suddenly looked more frightened than a mouse facing a tomcat. Jae simply blinked at the girl, a similar slow blink that a bored cat might do, as the girl recovered from her stumbling blunder. She was one of the newer maids, Jae noted, the doe-eyed, shaking frame gave her away. Those were the ones the Red Keep ate alive, they mused. It only took a moment for the maid to lift her eyes for a moment before ducking her head again under the watchful golden gaze, fingers clutching at the apron over her red skirt.

“Queen Alicent has requested you in her chambers, my lady,” the words were stumbled over and shaky, but they passed her lips with more volume than they’d thought she’d have.

“Very well. Did she give you a reason as to request my presence?”

Jaeda tucked a purple piece of fabric between the pages of her book, marking her place before the tome found a home on the small table beside her favorite chair. It was a rather interesting one, it must’ve been newer as they hadn’t read it before and that was such a rare treat even with the Red Keep’s library. Perhaps it was a tome from Dorne the maesters had finished illuminating or perhaps even from Essos. They would have to look into it further later; the humorously written romance didn’t give any origin away like history so often did.

The maid's hands twist nervously in her skirts. "The queen has locked herself in her room and says you and the princess are the only ones she will see. She requested the maesters this morning when she felt ill and Grand Maester Mellos believes she is with child."

Jae felt their blood run cold as their vision narrowed suddenly. Red tinged the edge of everything within their line of sight before anxiety settled over everything like a blanket. Alicent must have been terrified when she realized what missing her monthly bleeding meant, how she was well and truly trapped more than ever. Jae was certain the king had been trying with his new queen, though not nearly as purposely as he had with his late wife. Surely there was still a pressure to bear heirs, but with the line of succession following Rhaenyra, there wasn't a franticness to it any longer.

Meaning, he had wanted to have another child. That he hadn't even so much as considered how it would affect Alicent when she fell pregnant, in a separate chamber from everyone, left alone at the mercy of the maesters and maids as they poked and prodded at her with only concern for the unborn child.

Jaeda didn't let another word pass the maid's lips before she swept out of the room entirely, skirts billowing behind her as she crossed the halls of Maegor's Holdfast to the royal apartments. It was far too quiet, she thought, even knowing that the king was no doubt seeing to his responsibilities, the Hand was most likely accompanying him, and many of the servants were going about their daily tasks to keep the Keep running smoothly. Still, it was eerily silent as she approached the closed door of Alicent's chambers, recalling how the maid had said she had locked herself within it.

Alicent startled when the door opened, confusion overwhelming the fear and tears streaming down her cheeks. She mumbled something about how she thought it was locked, how could she have opened it, but such thoughts were quickly drowned out when Jaeda joined her on the edge of her bed.

The queen hadn't even changed out of her nightdress, the white, billowing fabric dwarfing the young girl and making her look even younger. The idea that in less than a year, a girl she still viewed as a child would have her own nearly sent Jaeda into another bout of anger.

However, that wasn't what was needed. 

Rhaenyra joined soon after and she and her father's advisor shared a look. There was no doubt then that, now that the maids had done as requested, the rumor of Alicent being with child would spread throughout the Red Keep and find its way to the ears of Otto and Viserys. For the small amount of time they had before that, however, they would spend it amongst themselves, curled into the protective arms of Jaeda to escape the expectations of the kingdom around them.

As expected, Viserys was overjoyed at the idea of another child, no doubt already imagining a son to grow up under Rhaenyra's wing. Otto was smugly pleased, as well, eyes trained on his daughter in a way that made Jaeda want to tear into him.

They quelled their anger, if only in public, and the months of pregnancy carried on with little issue. Rhaenyra barely left Alicent's side, assisting her near daily and even neglecting to go on her flights on Syrax in favor of her dearest friend. She was the first to know when the baby kicked, when they shifted, already predicting that the baby no doubt had dragon blood when Alicent complained about the child driving her mad from its obsessive wiggling. Alicent had nearly thrown the embroidery she'd been working on at the princess, the two of them erupting into giggles after.

While it had been years since the Red Keep had last seen the birth of a child, none within the walls had forgotten the screams of childbirth. When Alicent’s labors had begun, many of the nursemaids had worried for her. It seemed that nearly the entire kingdom was still rocked from the tragedy of Aemma’s passing and how it had come about, how quickly everything had turned from a celebration of a new heir to mourning the loss of a queen and prince. None had worried as much as the princess and advisor, however, both of which had shoved past the grand maester himself to be with Alicent. Jae had long since vowed they wouldn’t leave another to the same fate as Aemma if they could help it. 

It was a boy. Thin, white-blonde hair, violet eyes, everyone had been thrilled by his looks. He was every bit a Targaryen, the first son of Viserys Targaryen to live beyond a handful of days. Viserys had entered the room shortly after a maid had gone to fetch him as the maesters fussed over the baby and Jae had fussed over Alicent. The poor queen had been exhausted and paler than they’d liked, but smiled all the same when the infant was placed at her breast. She was clumsy and awkward at first, feeling like such a small thing was far too fragile to hold so soon, but Jae quickly soothed her worries when they guided her hands to cradle his head, to curl under and around him until he settled. Viserys had all but beamed at the sight of his son, immediately calling him Aegon and deeming him perfect for such a heavy name. Rhaenyra had all but scrunched her nose at the name as he lifted his new son into his arms, the infant doing much the same.

If anyone had thought Rhaenyra doting before, the time after the birth had caused the girls to become inseparable. Alicent was rarely seen without the princess and more often than not, Rhaenyra was holding Aegon. Neither had truly ever cared for a child themselves and they learned together, each new experience being safe-guarded in their hearts. While Viserys and Otto had viewed Aegon as a triumph, that the gods had truly blessed the Targaryen house once again with a healthy child, Alicent relished in the fact that the princess watched her son with affection and care, knowing the boy was an extension of Alicent herself. 

For once in many years, Jae found themselves almost at ease within the stone halls of the Red Keep. 

Fallon, however, had no such luck.

While she had been asked to be the princess’ sworn protector, she was not always granted the privilege to freely be at her side. The kingsguard were who she truly answered to, something she hadn’t considered when the offer had been laid out to her, and many of the younger men found it ceaselessly entertaining that a woman would be in service alongside them, not to mention a noblewoman at that. 

To make matters worse, with Daemon now officially absconded from King’s Landing and Dragonstone, a new commander of the City Watch had to be appointed. It seemed everything worked to further drive her mad when news arrived that Ser Harwin would be the new commander, placing him within arm’s length at all times. She had assumed she’d have time and distance to consider the marriage, to possibly come up with any manner of lies to get out of the arrangement. Hells, she even thought that her becoming the princess’ sworn protector would be enough to drive the betrothal into an early grave. However, it seemed as though the very Maiden she had had painted onto her shield mocked her.

It was one of the mornings that Ser Westerling had grown entirely too exhausted in balancing Fallon’s sense of duty and the teasing remarks from some of the other kingsguard that bordered on mocking. Ser Cole was one of the most vocal, pushing the princess’ sworn sword nearly to the point of lashing out and only backing away when she turned on him or if the lord commander began to pay attention. She’d been assured countless times that it was the men’s way of welcoming her into the fold, but the more she was called the princess’ Maiden knight, if she was certain that she was acceptable for such a role, if she was even a woman, she was less and less certain of what her place amongst such men was.

Which was how she found herself in the training yard again. It was always where she was sent after Westerling had had enough. He knew she didn’t need nearly as much training or supervision, he’d seen her at the tourney even if it had been years ago at that point, so he often masked her punishment for acting out by sending her away. It was a respite for her and him both; she was free to hack away at lifeless dummies and he was free from the bickering of his men. He’d often told her the exchanges often reminded him of women’s sewing circles and she had laughed. He wasn’t entirely wrong.

To her disappointment, the training yard was occupied, for lack of a better word. There was plenty of room for her to do as she wished, but when a handful of the City Watch’s newest recruits were stood amongst the training equipment, it did make it rather difficult.

He made it all the more difficult.

Harwin, upon seeing Fallon, nearly lit up. If she hadn’t been watching him as well, she likely would’ve missed the glint of his dark eyes, how his posture changed from almost exhausted defeat as another recruit fumbled and flailed his sword to rigid and attentive the moment she was within shouting distance. Fallon was surprised he hadn’t started shouting yet, that he waited for her to visit the sword stand, picking over the weapons meticulously like she truly cared before testing the weight of one. It was a show, she supposed, one that wasn’t really necessary. It only prolonged the moment she thought she dreaded, when she would have to speak to the men who had been there before her.

Harwin smiled kindly at her once she put the sword down and finally wandered over closer, turning her attention to the men he was training. “Did Ser Westerling send his best to assist in whipping the newest city guards?”

While she had assumed many of the new recruits would be young men wanting to show their mettle, she was surprised to see a more varied range of ages. While none were very old, there were a few she was sure had seen true battle. Perhaps not a war, but certainly a battle or two that had wetted their blade with blood from an enemy instead of a rivaling lord’s son.

“His best? Quite a high compliment from the commander of the City Watch, Ser Strong.”

If her stoic politeness stilted with awkwardness bothered him, he certainly didn’t show it. His smile didn’t once falter, even when he looked from her to the men still stumbling through basic sword stances.

“And, to be honest, none knew you would be training the whelps at this time.”

“Duty never rests, though I suppose you would know that well.”

Fallon made a face, her top lip curling to nearly bare her teeth before she caught herself. She wondered if that was the remaining teachings of her mother; such expressions weren’t attractive or very appropriate for a young lady of such a proud house. It had always made her want to bare her teeth entirely, to growl and hiss and spit like a creature cursed to madness. Yet, she always schooled herself to her mother’s liking, to keep things civil and calm, up until she could sneak away to bury her sword into straw-filled burlap or carve away at wooden posts.

Instead, she squared her shoulders, her palm resting against the pommel of her sword at her hip. “Duty within the City Watch will be a welcome sight to see again. I fear the prince’s influence did very little to truly allow duty and trust to flourish within the ranks and people.”

Harwin chuckled. “I do believe you’re right, my lady.”

Her eyes flicked to a small grouping of men whispering between themselves, their eyes not watching the coupled sparring matches but rather, watching her. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end and she felt like a bristling dog, on edge, ready to be attacked. She found that such a feeling had nearly become her natural state, day in and day out.

“Would you help me with them?”

She blinked, pulling her attention away. “Pardon?”

Her betrothed gestured towards the group, taking a step away from her as one of the men fell and a few of them jeered at him. “Help me teach them a thing or two before I send them to their barracks.”

Fallon forced down the grumble growing in her throat, begrudgingly following behind him as he pulled focus from their taunting teasing to him. 

It was almost impressive how quickly they came to attention, she thought. At least they had respect for their commander, new though he was. She almost stopped when the thought crossed her mind, brows furrowing almost disappointedly with herself. Why was she pleased they respected him? She hardly cared.

Right?

“Lads,” his voice was strong and loud, carrying clear across the courtyard, she was certain, “seems like it’s our lucky day.”

‘Lucky’ was never a word she had used to describe her presence. Lucky was usually the farthest thing from her mind in such situations, though to tell Harwin otherwise would have him thinking it a lie. The uncomfortable pressure of eyes on her returned and her shoulders squared again, her armor glinting golden in the midday sun. She’d left the heaviest pieces behind, such things were usually used for show or tourneys only, but her shoulder plates still bore the symbol of her house; the everwatchful, almost angry stare of a lion.

One of the younger men sniffed, eyeing her in a way that settled between wary and darkly. “Not e’ery day a kingsguard makes time for us folk.”

“I am not a kingsguard, ser-”

“Brennan.” The man sniffed again.

“Ser Brennan. Lord Commander Westerling merely trains me alongside his kingsguard knights.”

Another man elbows Brennan with an almost smug, knowing look. “Told ya they don’t let women folk join ‘em.”

“Stewar!” Harwin barked, an almost dark grin on his face. “Good of you to volunteer for next spar. Grab your weapon.”

Stewar blinked at his commander before grabbing a broadsword and stepping into the handmade ring they’d been using. He expected the commander to pick another one of the men to pit against him, to run them through their paces again, or even face against him himself. It was no secret that Harwin Strong disliked any ill words towards his betrothed, regardless of her feelings on the matter, and the man had made possibly the most grievous mistake of the day.

His face paled when Harwin gestured for Fallon to enter after him.

“They should see what’s expected of King’s Landing’s finest.”

She’d huffed at his words, but drew her sword all the same as she moved to walk past the men now staring at her with wide eyes.

Most had been present years ago for the late prince’s tourney, had seen her face off against Daemon Targaryen and win, so there was no doubt, despite their comments, that she was a skilled fighter. Perhaps more skilled than all of them combined, there was truly no telling what her full ability was outside of a true battle.The idea of fighting against her had the younger ones thanking the gods that they hadn’t spoken out of turn and the older men eager to see just how she would ruin the man who had.

Stewar, for his credit, jutted out his chin and raised the blade of his weapon as she did. Harwin stood to the side, arms crossed, and the biggest grin she thought she’d seen on a man.

“Begin!”

While she was certain she had been asked to step into the ring simply to get the men to cease gossiping like ladies at court, Fallon had the thought pass in her mind that this wasn’t truly fair to the soldiers in training. Such thoughts were all but confirmed when Stewar found his ass in the dirt, nursing a growing bruise on his cheekbone from the hilt of her sword. It had taken less than a minute for the fight to finish, almost a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, and the small crowd of men fell absolutely silent. There wasn’t a single jeer or laugh until Stewar stumbled to his feet and Harwin started clapping.

“The lady has demonstrated what needs work with you lot perfectly. My thanks and gratitude, Lady Lannister.”

Fallon schooled her face to remain neutral as he bowed slightly, giving her all due respect she was entitled to. The small act still made her muscles stiffen and an uneasiness settled in her stomach, but it wasn’t as bad without her mother’s preening, sneering look beside her. She gave her own little broken bow, hoping the men would assume the armor made her more awkward and that it wasn’t simply her.

As she walked back towards the palace walls, she heard Harwin barking orders at his men again, telling them to hold their swords higher, their feet needed to be further apart or closer together, and one of the soldiers said to listen before another ended up on the wrong end of the Maiden Knight’s sword.

She would never admit it, but she smiled at the thought. She would never be a kingsguard, that much was truth in such a society in King’s Landing, but perhaps she could wear her tourney knightship just as proudly as a white cloak.

Tags: @dreaming-of-illusory-flowers|@soup-entity|@yippeecore

[nebuvoid]

i had this terrible thought during my replay btw. you know how FFVIIR Cloud wears this scummy looking bandage under his glove?

Tifa you really couldnt convince him to change that grody thing?

anyway since apparently R is gonna have CC and AC and probably also DoC canon (god save us all), wouldnt it be hilarious if they bring geostigma into the story early and thats why Cloud is wearing that? im not saying i want that or even that im coming up with some big brain theory. i just think it would be funny in a NO GOD WHY kinda way you know