#yes! let her be complicated let her be the pessimistic one let her prefer the borderlands!!!

[biblicallyaccuratetrain]

i dont know WHAT they did to usagi this season but i want more of it hell yesss

[lastxviolet]

Madripoor is for Lovers (Zemo x F!Reader) - Ch. 2

Summary: Y/N is a SWORD agent recruited to help Sam and Bucky track down Karli and the super-soldiers. When Helmut Zemo joins the team, he takes a special interest in her. The friendly union is wrought for disaster, but then things take a turn for the worst when Y/N is taken as collateral. Will Zemo keep her forever? Does she even want to escape? And what happened in Madripoor that made the whole thing so complicated?

Warnings: 18+ / eventual smut / kidnapping

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32878015/chapters/81589774

The plane completed its descent, jolting you awake and away from the dream of what happened next.

His hands inside your dress and the moment in the evening that stopped feeling like an act.

“We are here,” he confirmed, gripping your hand and leading you from the plane.

The air wasn’t cold anymore and smelled like spring. It was May in the states and DC had felt the same so it was possible that you were still in the northern hemisphere. The United States and Canada weren’t options for the criminal, neither was Germany.

Italy?

He spoke to the driver in German and although you recognized the words, you had no clue what they meant. A short drive later and the car stopped. He untied the blindfold and you took in the sight of a lone chateau at the end of a lavish driveway. He opened the door and motioned for you to follow.

“No gun,” you questioned, eyeing his relaxed demeanor.

He smiled. Although you were angry and the sun was too bright, you were glad to finally be able to see something again.

“Not necessary,” he nodded at the rolling hills around them. “Where would you run?”

You glared at him, letting him know that this was still against your will and that any familiarity you’d had, was gone.

“You’re very confident that I prefer your company over death,” you hissed, eyeing the wilderness.

“You’ve come with me this far.”

Your eyes met his. It was impossible to know what he was thinking beneath the stern exterior.

“You could’ve screamed for your comrades,” he shrugged.

“There was a gun aimed at my temple.”

“Or jumped out of the plane.”

Again, you glared at him. If looks could kill.

“This way,” he said, clearing his throat. “Please.”

You followed him, debating if you could make it to the car or even out of the compound before Zemo shot you or caught up.

The terrain was unfamiliar, and now you were in a foreign country, alone and uncounted for.

Zemo slowed and matched your snail’s pace, signaling that it was time to hurry up. You moved slower despite his hand on your back and he clicked his tongue. You made the journey last as long as possible until there was no choice but to cross the threshold.

“Your room is up the stairs and to the right,” he said, eyes on your face.

You stormed up the wooden stairs, making each groan with your anger.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” he called after you.

You slammed your door in response. The wall shook and you half hoped it’d bring the whole house down, taking you and Zemo with it.

An hour later, you entered the small and intimate dining room. A round table sat in a nook surrounded by windows, looking out onto the cliff-like drop below. You didn’t even glance at the food before you. There was only Zemo, and convincing him to let you go.

“Is your room to your liking?”

You scoffed. “My cell is fine, thank you.”

Unfortunately, your warden was fond of conflict, and difficult people. The words only seemed to intrigue him further. His eyes danced over your face, glancing down towards the exposed skin on your chest and then up to your lips.

“They say a pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity,” he mused.

“I’m a pessimist because of intelligence,” you quoted.

His eyes twinkled again, he knew, as you did, that it came from an Italian philosopher. It was applicable but also, a guess.

He raised his glass towards you before finishing the quote. “But an optimist because of will.”

In true Zemo fashion, he neither confirmed nor denied your suspicion. You lifted your glass of red wine towards him with a scowl.

You ate in silence for a while, you, staring out the window, Zemo, eyeing you. You made it half an hour before the weight of his stare became unbearable.

“So what’s your game plan, with all this,” you asked, waving your fork to yourself and then to him and the house.

“Do not ask questions you already know the answer to,” he chided. “It is beneath you.”

“My life for your freedom.”

He sighed then, almost like he didn’t like that answer either. It was the right one, you both knew that but it looked like it pained him. Seeing that flicker of humanity hurt more than you wanted to admit. It'd be easier if the man beneath the mask wasn't real. It'd be easier if he'd been lying and there weren’t two versions of him. You wished that there wasn’t a charming and passionate man beneath the evil Baron facade, but there he was again.

“Prison is not an option for me,” he admitted, laying down his fork. “But I am sorry that it had to be you.”

You nodded and scoffed, rolling your eyes for good measure.

“I do hope to make you comfortable, in the meantime — ”

“Before you kill me,” you interrupted.

He clicked his tongue again and glared. It was the plan he orchestrated and yet, he didn’t seem to like it.

“I may not have to,” he corrected.

You laughed then, with little care for his strained expression. “Have you met the Dora Milage? They’ll go through whoever they need to, to avenge their king. They don’t know me nor do they care about me. You don’t have the winning hand that you think you do.”

“You are forgetting about your colleagues. They've lost one of their own. If not loyalty, then pride will make them come for you,” he corrected.

Again, you smiled at his miscalculation. “I’m a foot soldier, not an avenger; not a super soldier; not one of them.”

"There is no such thing as small people, only small — ”

“Great,” you bellowed. “More wisdom! Your riddles and literature are useless now. You should’ve spent more time studying negotiations while you were incarcerated. Why didn’t you take Bucky? Or Caps little assistant? The US would’ve been at your feet for them back. You could’ve gotten a pardon and a reward!”

“I have no need for a reward,” he spat.

Your chest was heaving, out of anger, out of nerves, but most of all because the man in front of you was once again, impenetrable.

“Or a pardon from the great United States,” he continued, almost in a whisper.

Your eyes snapped to his but he avoided your gaze. He swirled his wine and stared off into space before inspecting you again. Something was missing, something that didn’t make sense.

The glimmer of humanity returned, despite his best efforts to hide it.

He’d been the main orchestrator of his outbreak from jail. He had private homes, apartments, transportation, weapons, cars, everything. He could run forever but he didn’t need you to do it. How was this life any different than what it would be if he was free? He watched you come to the realization and winced as it clicked into place.

“Why am I here,” you whispered, squinting.

He was silent and looked back to the window.

“Zemo,” you whispered. “Look at me.”

Funny enough, he followed the order.

His lips moved in silence but words didn’t escape.

“Why did you choose me?”

He pursed his lips in exasperation. It was no secret that he liked having the upper hand but he’d shown you all his cards a moment ago. You wondered why he hadn’t bothered to lie.

“I chose you because they wouldn’t — they won’t.”

He stood up and leaned against the sill, sipping wine in small swigs and staring out at the greenery.

“You would die for your country, Y/N,” he explained. “I find that admirable — heroic even but the problem, for me, is that they would let you.”

“Let me?” You repeated the phrase slowly, trying to understand the point.

He let out a huff. “If you caught a grenade in the name of bettering America, what would happen?”

You cocked your head in question. “I die? Maybe get a Purple Heart?”

“And then what? Would they bat an eye before rejoicing you — celebrating you and your sacrifice? Encouraging others to do the same in your name?” He paused and stared at you.

“No….no they wouldn’t because your death would mean that their wars are working. Another name in the long list of people that they were willing to gift to the god of war.”

“That sacrifice is what I signed up for — it’s my choice,” you explained, confused about where he was taking this.

He nodded and yet made no amends or clarification. The angry veins in his forehead receded and his gaze flitted away like he couldn’t bear to continue. You suddenly wondered if he'd even sent a ransom note, or whatever kidnappers do. The look in his eyes, told you no. The tone of his voice told you that he might not ever.

“Then you are doing your duty as a prisoner of war here, with me.”

He smiled and your anger dissipated. You lunged to grab onto any remaining frayed piece of it but there was nothing left. All those years of training and fighting, all to succumb to an evil man in a fitted turtleneck. You hardened your expression in an attempt to remain vexed.

“Your circumstance could be worse,” he concluded.

“And what of your circumstance?”

Silence ate up space between you. His gaze was set on you once again and then it seemed like you were the only two in this room, this home…the world.

“Better than it has been in a long time, schatzi,” he sighed.

“How so,” you asked, pushing for information.

He shrugged. “I am free and I am alone….with you.”

You winced and shook your head. “Don’t,” you whispered.

His brows furrowed. “In previous interactions, you did not seem to resent my…affections, Y/N.”

Butterflies ravaged your sternum, bringing memories of the night at Sharon’s with it. If it was different, if he had turned over a new leaf, then it would be easier to admit your feelings.

“Is this your version of affection? Holding me hostage?”

“Yes,” he breathed, coming to sit next to you, so close you thought he might touch you.

“Let’s not…talk about it,” you whispered, trying to push away the longing in your chest.

“I would like to,” he pushed.

All you could do was stare. The memories should've stayed in Madripoor. It should live in your brief collective drunk past. But you could see that it weighed on him as heavy as it did on you.

“That is fine,” he sighed. “I can talk if you will listen.”

You nodded once. The residual affections plagued you and it was impossible to keep your heartbeat at bay. The thought that he might feel the same was exhilarating and terrifying.

“It was you who assisted me with my escape plan. You who tracked Karli. You who guessed that I’d betray you on countless occasions. You who ensured that we evaded Captain America as long as we did. You who played your part so well that everyone in Madripoor thinks I have taken a wife.”

“Your point,” you hissed, deadpan.

“The super soldier solution does not increase intelligence, as you know. Nothing does. Even all the books in the world cannot alter what is already there. Either you are born with the glorious burden, or you live in ignorant bliss,” he explained.

He reached up and brushed his thumb along your forehead. “I know your burden, Y/N, because I share it.”

A stuttering breath left your chest. Compliments were the easiest forms of manipulation. You’d studied it, known it, resisted it in many years of training but this felt different. Everything he did and said, felt different.

“I do my job Zemo, that’s it.”

“You excel,” he corrected. “You make the rest of your colleagues look like newborns and yet they don’t...value you. Not like I do, Liebling.”

“If this is about the incident at Sharon’s,” you said, recognizing the nickname. “It was a mistake.”

He chuckled. “An optimist would call it a happy accident.”

“I’d call it life-ruining,” you said, trying to decipher the feelings of anger and something warm inside your chest. “If it led you to this.”

“I understand if you hate me,” he explained. “But you should know that living here with your hatred will be akin to breathing, for me, if it means you are safe. Natural and life-bringing.”

Your face gave nothing away but he’d stunned you.

“The evil baron is becoming less and less of a character.”

“They say hate itself is a version of love,” he mused, ignoring your words and staring at your lips.

The word knocked thought and common sense back into your head. This wasn’t love. This was ownership and selfishness. A myriad of terrible things that had tangled you both in this mess. It’d spurred from fascination and proximity but for love to grow, there has to be more. There has to be more good than bad. You looked around the home, owned by the man in front of you. Both beautiful, breathtaking even. But not enough to trade your freedom for.

“How convenient for someone with so many enemies,” you hissed.

His eyes squinted then and the Baron who commanded respect in Madripoor returned. There was this side of him too, you reminded yourself. And it seemed to be winning over the side who loved books and witty conversation.

“Are you my enemy, Y/N?”

For the first time, you didn’t know what to say. Before this, it wasn’t safe to call him anything other than an enemy but now? He ruined any chance of normalcy or redemption. The question lingered between you and it struck you how close he’d gotten. It would take almost nothing to start a repeat of the night at Sharon’s. But this was a different man.

“I didn’t have to be,” you breathed before breaking eye contact. You gave him no time to answer before fleeing back to your room.

[thedashingcaptainweird]

OC Interview: Orion Augustus

Thank you @dumbassentity for the tag!

(I’m not sure I’m doing this right—- I just used the same questions you used?)

(Everyone should try this with their Captain or other OC!)

Introduction

Can you introduce yourself?

Captain Orion Augustus of the Unreliable, at your service

What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status?

I’m a pan-romantic demi-sexual man, emphasis on the romantic… I get crushes all the time.

In terms of relationships: I’m proudly attached at the hip to Max DeSoto, and wanna shout it from the rooftops.

Where and when were you born?

April 11, 2244, on Earth

What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

None. And… none? I prefer to convince my opponent that they aren’t particularly interested in fighting me at all. And if that fails? I’m one hell of a jogger.

Lastly, are you happy?

You’d think that was a simple question, haha. Let’s say yes. At the moment.

Family and Friends

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

My mother left when I was young. I never really tried to find her. It doesn’t matter now, she’s long dead. Unless people somehow started living far past 100 years on Earth. Who knows. I was close with my father before he died. It was complicated I guess. He wasn’t… I don’t know. We were close I suppose. Anyway that's boring. Let's hit the next one, shall we?

Have you ever run away from home?

As a kid? No. I got into trouble in plenty of other ways.

I guess boarding the Hope could be counted as running away from home as an adult. But Earth didn’t really feel like my home anymore anyway.

Would you consider marriage or having children?

No to children. Not really interested in that at all, but if some kid who was really into tossball and anarchy maybe needed to join a crew to like, I dunno, get away from a dead end job moving boxes on a space station? Hypothetically? That’s another story.

As for marriage… I may be a romantic at heart, but I don’t need anything that traditional. Some kind of celebration with, you know, flowers and music and twinkle lights and all our friends… that would be nice. Doesn’t have to be called marriage.

Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

My friends? No.

But I do make some assholes believe that I’m their friend before I take them for all they’re worth. Don’t worry about it unless you’re filthy rich and treat people “below you” like garbage.

Which friend knows everything about you?

Max probably knows as much as I do. But that’s not saying much. Half the time I’m confused about the inner workings of my own stupid brain. I tell Max more than I tell anyone else.

Asked by Fans

Are you literate? Have you been to school?

Finished high school. Didn’t see much point in paying for anything beyond that. I read a lot, mostly romance paperbacks, and I’m writing my own. I'm a pretty good writer, if I do say so myself. And I do. Say so myself.

The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

I dunno about eerie. I’ll brag, be honest, and say that I can read people pretty well and give you odds on what they’ll do next. I'm usually right.

What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

That I was in love with the preacher.

Do you have mental health or physical issues?

I mean I’m a mess, my friend. There’s the obvious: I’m blind in one eye. Other than that. Mental health? Yeah. Again. A mess.

What is your current main goal?

I don’t really have one. Give love, receive love? Is that too corny? Too bad.

Choices

Drink or food?

Food. Gimme a bag of those cystybits and I'm good. Also, I am an amazing cook. I can work miracles with the weird shit y'all have to eat in this starsystem.

Cats or dogs?

Cats. I’m fucking terrified of dogs. I didn’t used to be. I guess I’m scared of what passes for a dog around here.

Optimist or pessimist?

A joyful pessimist.

Sassy or sarcastic?

Sassy. And it's a damn shame I can't think of a cuter way to say that.

Have You Ever

Been caught sneaking out?

Nope! I don’t get caught.

Broken a bone?

Well, I didn’t break them. Someone broke them for me without my permission.

Received flowers?

Yes! I’ve had some lovers who share my sense of romance. Max surprised me with some the other day. I have a feeling Parvati suggested it, but it was sweet just the same.

Ghosted someone?

No

Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

I kinda feel like I'm doing that right now, ha ha

[usernoneexistent]

So, a situation has happened. @oneirataxia-girl sent a message ‘You know it’s a tradition to answer every of Meg’s questions’ for the OC ask and as I was making a response, dumb me accidentally pressed the post button and then out of panic I deleted it. Now I feel like more of an idiot that I could simply edit it or save it drafts or make it private whatever so here is an alternative. This will be a ridiculously long post so here it is. I’m sorry I lost the message but I accept the challenge. I will skip some questions as I’ve already answered them in a previous post.

1. What's MCs favorite subject and why?

Charms just for the reason that she is good at it and is one of the few things that she likes that inherited from her dad plus her paternal grandmother was once a professorial (Wandless) duellist.

2. What does MC think about dragons?

Loves them but not to the same extent as Charlie Weasley does.

3. Did MC get the permission slip for Hogsmeade from the parents without any problems?

Juniper just asked her mum and she signed it without any problems. 

4. Butter beer or pumpkin juice?

Butterbeer, it makes her feel older and mature (even though she isn’t lol)

5. Does MC sleep with a stuff toy?

Not anymore no but when she was younger she had an ugly, green toy rabbit that she got as a gift from Jacob. 

6. Sandwiches or Soup?

Sandwiches as a kid but she heading more into the soup direction.

7. Who does your MC hate the most?

R, since they dragged Jacob, Juniper and the rest into a whole conspiracy on top of losing her closest friend because of R.

8. What is MC’s weakness?

Juniper’s greatest weakness is her loyalty. She likes to understand and see what a person has been through and believes that most people can be good so she often tries to befriend almost everyone she meets which can be exploited. 

9. What is MC’s opinion on magical creatures?

Absolutely loves them and loves to learn and interact with them. 

10. Angel or Devil?

Juniper would be an angel for the main fact that she is very good natured despite having moments of pettiness and vengeance.

11. Pessimistic or Optimistic?

Juniper leans more on the optimistic side of the spectrum but over the years at Hogwarts it slides over to the pessimistic side.

12. Which house does MC find chill?

Gryffindor

13. Selfish or sharing?

Depends on the context, in terms of herself she doesn’t share any details of her life to others but also if they need her help she’s always there. However she is also very stubborn and kinda has a tendency to do her thing so maybe more selfish.

14. How does MC eat kit kat? breaking the sticks or eating it as a whole?

Unfortunately, Juniper would eat it like a normal human being and breaks the sticks to but she would share it.

15. What is MC’s element?

It’s air because air can be quiet and gentle but it can also be dangerous and turbulent just like Juniper. 

16. Does MC have a part-time job for money?

No, she doesn’t need to worry about money, her father’s side of the family are quite rich.

18. Does your MC like Rowan?

Yes she does (platonically), what even kind of question is that. Rowan was Juniper’s first ever friend of her own age and was the few people she fully let into her life, like her family situation and how she truly feels about them and her guilt with the cursed vaults and Jacob.

19. Who does MC have a platonic relationship?

Bill Weasley. During Hogwarts he was a brother figure, pretty much the Jacob she wanted and after Hogwarts they ended working together in Egypt. They turn to each other when it comes to love advise and are there for each other when one of them is heartbroken and rejoice when one of them finds love again. Juniper was upset that didn’t make it to Bill’s wedding cause she would totally be his other best man and Juniper would make Bill her bridesmaid at hers. 

20. Who’s your MC’s non-NPC bestie? Any other MC?

Juniper is just recently made friends with Alvina and Hana.

22. What is MC’s blood status?

Juniper’s maternal grandmother was a half blood while her father’s side is pureblood which makes her technically a half-blood.

23. How is MC’s relationship with their family?

It’s complicated so lets break it down.

Jacob (brother): Perhaps the best relationship she has with her family. She admires Jacob and sees him as her hero. She was hurt when he disappeared and felt betrayed since he left only a year after their dad left. When Juniper finds Jacob again, she was so relieved that he was alive and that her quest was not in vain. When he disappeared, Juniper was less forgiving that time. They still argue a lot but she also bails him out many times.

Jalil Hasni (father): Juniper really doesn’t like her father, she views him as a traitor to the family because when Jacob got expelled, Jalil felt that Jacob brought dishonour to the family and left to work in Algeria. She also struggles with her identity as people have pointed out that they very similar, in their explosive temperament to their ambitious nature but Juniper refuses to accept that they are similar and often ends resenting those parts about her.

Julia Moss (mother): Juniper has a very emotionally sensitive relationship with her mum. She always had the sense that Julia preferred Jacob over Juniper and when both Jalil left and Jacob disappeared within a year span, it caused Julia to fall into a deep depression and when Juniper said she wanted to be with dad, it spiralled Julia into deeper despair. This caused Juniper to feel tremendous guilt and they ended up just tiptoeing around, constantly worried they would say the wrong thing leaving them emotionally distant to each other.

25. What is MC favourite magical creature?

Nifflers

Okay so, I have been working on this for about a day and decided that I will split this into 4 parts, just to ease the workload. 

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

I’d put a crown at your feet... (Part I)

For the dearest @marilynmonroefanfics​ 💝👄

Hope you’ll like the story.

TW: mentions of smut

June 1972. Castle of Balmoral.

Walking through the Scottish lands, Philip Mountbatten, Duke of Edinburgh, was in a foul mood. 

He felt like his life was falling apart for two years. Or maybe for more years? 

He did not remember when it went sour, but for sure, he knew that his life was a complete mess.

First of all, his marriage was falling apart: he and Elizabeth grew distant from each other. Farewell, the sweet romance of the beginning! Even the birth of Edward, their last child, did not manage to patch things up between them.

Secondly, his “dear” wife did not show any maternal love for their children. She cast Charles, Anne, Andrew, and Edward away, often scolding them for their mistakes and barely complimenting their efforts or successes. 

Philip had to admit that he was not really present for his children, but he was not at ease with them. Moreover, Elizabeth took perverse pleasure remembering his royal duties.

But the final straw was when he discovered that his spouse enjoyed the company of other men, to say the least.

Amazing! And he was the one the press accused of being a cheating husband! It is a topsy-turvy world!

As he was brooding over the disaster of his personal life, he did not hear the sound of a four-wheel-drive coming near to him until a familiar voice called him:

"Hello there, dear brother-in-law!"

He turned around and saw Margaret at the wheel of her vehicle, a slight smile on her face.

"What are you doing here?"

"Invading Scotland! Seriously, I'm escaping from my sister's boring sycophants! They were wasting my day!"

Philip smirked: his sister-in-law was the best person to understand how he felt in this oppressive world. Even if they did not have the same character, Philip and Margaret managed to get along. Especially since they had to tolerate Elizabeth's obnoxious behavior for some years.

"If you talk about the Daniels and the Furlingtons, you took the best decision! I would do the same!"

"Is it not what you're currently doing? Escaping from my dear sister at long strides?"

The prince shrugged.

"Maybe..."

"I see... Fancy a ride?"

"Is it risky?" joked Philip.

"Oh, don't be such a coward! Get in the car!"

"How could I refuse such a lovely request?" said her brother-in-law with irony as he climbed in the car!

Soon after, they were driving into the Scottish countryside, enjoying the view at every turn. Philip admitted that his legs needed some rest after his long walk.

After half an hour of driving, Margaret stopped the car, and they appreciated the point of view.

"Well, I have to tell: you are an excellent driver!"

"Oh, I had a good teacher! Dad and I used to drive there when I was younger!"

She sadly smiled.

"I remember his laugh... He told me how bold I was!"

"I wish I could have those kinds of memories with my own father!" answered Philip.

"Sure, you were not lucky!"

Both stayed silent, watching the calm landscape until Margaret spoke again.

"If Dad were among us, he would never let Elizabeth behaving that way with you or the children!"

"You're probably right. Unfortunately, I don't know what your mother thinks about it!"

"Don't worry about that! She often criticizes Lizzie for her lack of maternal love! She said that the monarch of Great Britain should never forget both their royal obligations and their parental duties!"

"Regrettably, your sister does not really care about it!"

Margaret scoffed.

"You bet she did not listen! My dear sister repeats that her children are more a burden than a blessing!"

She turned towards Philip.

"Speaking of that, make some effort, damn it! It looks like you're trying to avoid them at any cost! Don't you love your children?"

This question hit Philip like a punch!

"What are you talking about? Of course, I love my children!"

"Then, act like it! They are craving affection, and they cannot count on their mother for that! They need their father, and if you don't do anything to rectify the situation, you will regret it!"

The Duke of Edinburgh sighed.

"I know that it's not an excuse, but nobody taught me how to be a father. I tried my best, but I only witness the disaster I've created!"

"Don't be so pessimistic, or you're going to make me depressed! Sincerely, between you and my sister, you are the better parent! You just have to improve it, and it's not too late!"

She frowned.

"But I can't even believe Lizzie dared cheat on you with this jackass!"

"You know the name of her lover?"

"The most recent one? Of course, I know his name... and you know him too!"

"Who is it?"

"You won't like it... But it's Roger Acherville, one of your squires!"

Enraged, Philip struck the dashboard.

"DAMN IT! THIS RASCAL BOWED AND SCRAPED IN FRONT OF ME, BUT SHARED MY WIFE'S BED!"

Margaret bit her lip: she wished she never had to tell that news to her brother-in-law, but she must tell him the truth, even if it hurts like hell!

"I'm sorry, Philip. I'd prefer never tell you this..."

He interrupted her.

"No, you were right. You did well to tell me who my wife is cheating on me with right now!"

Philip was upset. How could Elizabeth do such a thing to him, after all they have been through together?

"But now I don't know what to do ..."

He turned to Margaret and saw that she was wearing a big, mischievous smile.

The kind of smile that announced that she had an idea behind her head and that didn't promise well.

"What are you going to tell me again as a twisted idea?"

"You know the law of retaliation: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth..."

"I know this motto, indeed. And then?"

"Well, what I mean is... I allow you to get your own back on my sister!"

Philip opened his eyes wide: he thought he hallucinated? Did Margaret just authorize him to cheat on Elizabeth? 

Years ago, she would have torn his eyes out if he ever imagines that possibility!

But now, the circumstances were different, and she was his best ally in Buckingham Palace.

Moreover, the idea of finding solace in someone else's arms was not unpleasant... 

He nodded.

"Alright! You convinced me!"

"Really?"

"Yes! After all, why my dear wife should be the one having fun?"

"That's the spirit, dear in-law! Before you start finding a lover, do you know what would make me happy?"

"What?"

"Shave that goddamn beard! You look like a caveman!"

The prince consort laughed: he almost forgot his bushy beard!

"What is the problem with that? It looks nice to me! People would think that I am an explorer! Or a Viking: after all, I am a Danish prince! Or maybe Socrates, as I am a Greek Prince too!"

"Of course, and I look like the lost twin of Marilyn Monroe!" she taunted the Duke while playfully punching him on the shoulder.

The two royals laughed and spoke for a long time, far from their daily issues. After all, this day was the beginning of a new journey for Philip Mountbatten...

Two months later. August 1972

Philip adjusted his bow tie: he hoped he wasn't doing anything stupid by accepting Margaret's invitation to one of her parties. She had promised him that he would not be bored and that he might find the perfect person.

He sighed: he knew he was running a risk looking for a mistress. 

If ever the press caught him in the arms of a woman, his reputation was gone! And his wife would not hesitate to put him down!

Straightening his chest, he gave a satisfied smile and got ready to join his sister-in-law when his son Andrew entered the room:

"Good evening, father ... Oh, you are very elegant!"

"Thanks, Andrew."

"Are you going out tonight?"

"Indeed, yes. I'm accompanying your Aunt Margaret to one of her parties. According to her, I am the guest of honor."

The 12-year-old boy nodded.

"Does ... Mother approve of this?"

"I have to. At least, your father will stop my sister from doing something stupid!" answered a familiar voice.

With these words, Queen Elizabeth entered the room. Dressed in a pearl gray satin dress, she had put on her most exquisite jewelry. She looked stern, almost disdainful. 

"Good evening, mother. You are beautiful tonight!"

The queen ignored the compliment and turned to her husband.

"Can I count on you so that Margaret doesn't end up dead drunk in another man's bed?"

"I'll do my best ... And you, what have you planned tonight?"

"I'm attending a reception at the Indian Embassy. As for Mother, she spends the evening with her lady-in-waiting, and Edward stays with them."

"And what about Charles and Anne?"

"I have no idea, and I don't want to know!"

Philip raised his eyebrows.

"I thought every parent should be worried about their children's nighttime activities!"

She replied in an annoyed tone.

"Oh, don't say such nonsense! They are old enough to fend for themselves! Besides, I have other priorities!"

She glanced at the clock that sat quietly in the back of the room.

"If you have nothing else to tell me, I'll leave you! I have to go to the embassy! Have a good evening!"

She turned on her heels and took off at a brisk pace, leaving her husband and son alone.

The Duke saw the sad look on Andrew's face and felt pain for him: how many times has he witnessed his wife ignore their children's words?

He tried to cheer his son up:

"Come on, it's nothing. I'm sure your compliment made your mother happy!"

Andrew replied:

"Don't bother too much about it, father. She does not care what I tell her. And she does the same to Charles, Anne, and even Edward!"

The young boy turned his gaze to his father:

"Even you, she snubs you all the time!"

"Well ... let's say that between adults, things can get more complicated!"

"Well, that doesn't make you want to be an adult!"

Philip laughed at the clear opinion of his third child.

"Don't worry, it won't be like this all the time! I'm sure you'll find someone you get along with!"

"I hope so too..."

Changing the subject, Philip asked:

"So what about you? What are you doing tonight?"

"I'm staying with Grandma and Edward. At least, I am sure to have a good evening!"

"I think so too. Well, I have to leave you: if I arrive late, your aunt might strangle me!"

"What are you waiting for? Go ahead!"

"I'm going! See you tomorrow!"

"See you tomorrow, father!"

Philip kissed his son on the forehead before heading outside the palace, where a limousine awaited him.

He got into the back of the vehicle and ordered his driver:

"We can go, Henry! Let's go to Princess Margaret's residence!"

"Right away, Your Highness!"

And the vehicle set off, taking the prince to the place of the party.

A few minutes later, he arrived outside Kensington Palace, where several luxury cars were already parked in the driveway.

With a steady step, he entered the house where a butler greeted him with deference:

"Welcome to Kensington Palace, Your Royal Highness."

"Thank you. Could you tell the Princess that I have arrived?"

"She's in the main living room, Your Highness. If you please follow me, sir ..."

The Duke of Edinburgh followed the servant into a large room with dancing music and laughter.

Philip spotted Margaret, in her best dress, chatting happily with her guests.

The butler walked up to his employer and announced:

"Lady Snowden, His Royal Highness Duke Philip of Edinburgh has arrived."

"Perfect! He's coming at the right time! Thanks, Howard!" Margaret exclaimed before going to greet her brother-in-law.

"Good evening, Philip. I see you dressed up… But you still haven't shaved your goddamn beard! What did I tell you?"

“This must be my rebellious side…” smirked Philip.

This remark amused the princess, who grinned.

"You got the point!"

She took his wrist.

"Come on! I have some lovely people to introduce you to!"

And so Philip became acquainted with singers, actors, dancers, musicians, artists, and other socialites of good English society.

Suddenly, he noticed the presence of a young man who was talking to some artists.

Although he tried to stay focused on the conversation, he found it difficult to take his eyes off this mysterious young man.

The latter had dark skin, raven hair, and intense ebony eyes. Dressed in an elegant black suit, he was rather slender and had elegant hands.

Philip saw that he was wearing light makeup that showed off his face. 

Margaret saw that her brother-in-law seemed hypnotized by the young man. She smiled:

"Tell me, Philip, would you like me to do the introductions with that handsome brunette over there?"

"What? Come on, Margaret, you don't have to ..."

"No way! Follow me!"

Letting out a long sigh, the Duke followed the Princess, who addressed her guests:

"So, are you having fun?"

"Absolutely, Maggie! This night is awesome!"

"I am delighted about it!"

She turned to the man who accompanied the mysterious young man.

"Jonathan, you nasty little secretive! You did not present me this delicious young person who accompanies you!"

"Where are my good manners? Margaret, Prince Philip, let me introduce you to Piero De Angelis! He is a model of your husband Anthony!"

"I should have guessed! Anthony has always had an eye for beauty!"

The British princess turned to the man named Piero.

"And you, my dear, how do you like this evening? Are you having fun, I hope?"

"Oh yes, Your Highness. I'm having a great evening!"

The prince noticed that he had a voice that was soft enough for a man.

"I am delighted about it!" smiled Margaret, who nudged Philip lightly.

The latter, having understood the message, cleared his throat before asking:

"Like that, your name is Piero? Like the character from commedia dell'arte?"

"Not quite, but I admit it sounds like it! My name is spelled P-I-E-R-O, while the character is spelled P-I-E-R-R-O-T. That is all the difference!"

"I see ... When you take a closer look, you look a bit like him!"

"Oh, really? Do I look melancholic?"

"No, but your makeup is as subtle as his!"

His sister-in-law slapped her forehead: she feared Philip might bring out one of his sharp sense of humor. His jokes tend to upset those involved. 

However, she did not expect Piero to respond maliciously:

"Beware, Your Highness: appearances are often deceptive. For example, when I look at you, I can say that it must be several centuries since you last saw a shaving foam!"

This gibe amused Margaret, who gave a fit of laughter, while the other guests gasped in horror: how dared this young commoner speaking to the prince consort with such poor manners?

As for Philip, he was taken aback: no one ever ventured to respond to one of his jokes. But he had to say: Piero had some spirit, and he liked that!

He laughed:

"Well played! I appreciate people with some character!"

Philip offered his hand to the young man:

"I know when I lost the game."

Smiling, the young Mister De Angelis shook hands with the prince:

"It was an honor verbally sparring with a member of the Royal family!"

At the second their hands touched, Philip felt like electricity went all over his body. He thought it has been years since he underwent such emotion... 

As for Piero, he was mesmerized: he always found Prince Philip attractive when he saw him on official pictures, but now, the young man could affirm that the prince consort was handsome, to say the least. 

The young man also observed that Philip's piercing eyes hid something else, but he could not tell what: sadness? Or melancholy? Hope? 

Yet, he was sure that the Duke of Edinburgh was not as happy as he seemed.

When they stopped shaking hands, Piero bowed respectfully before Philip:

"It was a pleasure speaking with you, sir."

"The pleasure was mine, Signore De Angelis."

Amused, the young man slightly bowed his head before he turned his heels and walked away.

Philip smirked: this young Piero was the most interesting man he ever met so far.

He glanced at Margaret, who smirked slightly. Looks like she had something in her mind...

"What?"

"Nothing... I just confirm that you find your match!" she muttered as she sipped her glass of Martini.

Rolling his eyes, Philip answered:

"Please, do not make overly ambitious plans!"

"What? Do not give me that stern look!"

Shaking his head in disbelief, Philip glanced at the young man with a sly smile on his face: he had the feeling that Piero would have an intriguing role in the future...

Two weeks later, at Kensington Palace.

In the main living room of the palace, Philip and Margaret talked about many gossips and their respective marriages.

"I'm glad to hear that you and Anthony are on better terms!"

"Yes. I would not lie, it was struggling. But, in the end, it is worth fighting for!"

The prince nodded before sighing:

"I really hoped that things would get better between Elizabeth and me. Unfortunately, I have to certify that it only worsens! She avoids me most of the time, and I am sure she pretends to have different appointments to be with this Acherville!"

His sister-in-law puts a sympathetic hand on his arm.

"I am sincerely sorry for this, Philip."

"Thank you, Margaret. But, my hardship only strengthens my desire to see someone else... Someone who can love me for who I am!"

An impish smile came across Margaret's face.

"A little bird tells me that you have a specific young man in your mind, am I right?"

The Duke of Edinburgh raised his hands in defeat.

"There's no fooling you!"

The princess squealed in delight.

"I knew it! I saw this little sparkle in your eyes that says a lot about your feelings!"

"Wait a minute... Are not you upset by the fact that I may be romantically involved with a man?" 

She shrugged.

"As if I care! Choose whoever you want to sleep with, as long as it gets on Lizzie's nerves!"

"I recognize your open-minded character!" chuckled Philip.

"Indeed."

"Speaking of him, what can you tell me about this Piero De Angelis?"

"Are you reading on my mind? I was about to tell you what I know so far!"

"Go ahead!"

She cleared her throat and answered:

"Well, I asked my best friend, Lady Anne Tennant, to give me some pieces of information about him. According to her, he was born in a middle-class family who fled Italy during World War Two. Loving parents, close relationships with his siblings. A nice life, to sum up. 

He is six years older than Charles. She also told me that he graduated from Oxford, but he prefers modeling. He sometimes worked as a tutor for children of noble families. I approve of his model career: he has such good looks! It would be a shame not to take advantage of it!"

"Sure... What about his temperament? His hobbies?"

"As far as I know, he is an artist: he loves drawing, sculpting, dancing, taking artistic pictures, painting, acting, and singing! A perfect artist, I tell you. Those who know him say that he is patient, charming, cultivated, smart, polite, and humble... He has some humor, but you have already noticed it. Ah, I almost forgot! He has some... unusual tastes!"

Philip raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't imagine something scandalous! It's just that he loves good fashion, jewels, and perfumes."

"He has a fondness for feminine things..."

"Exactly. Is it not a problem?"

"Oh, I would handle... At least, I'll have someone to give those kinds of presents!"

"That's the Philip I know! I might add that he currently lives in the area of Westbourne, in the neighborhood of Notting Hill... which is not far from here!"

"You planned everything, did not you?"

"I learn to anticipate, dear in-law! He lives in a small house, so you won't be disturbed by potential housemates."

Philip smiled before saying:

"Alright. So, am I supposed to go there, and ask him out?"

Her grin confused the prince consort.

"Oh, dear... That won't be necessary!"

As Philip was about to ask what she meant, a butler appeared:

"Your Highness, Mister De Angelis is here. Shall I let him in?"

"Perfect, just in time! Let him in, Howard!"

The prince could not believe his ears:

"You invite him?"

"Of course, dear in-law! Like this, you would get to know each other better!"

At the same time, Piero entered the room, escorted by the butler. Margaret gave her warmest smile towards the young man:

"Piero, caro mio! What a pleasure to see you! How are you since the last time?"

"I am fine, thank you. I did not expect an invitation from you..."

He noticed the presence of Philip and bowed:

"Your Highness..."

"Mister De Angelis..."

Suddenly, Margaret stood up from her place and said:

"Well, you know what? I'll pop over Lady Anne and picking some pastries, while you two have a nice little conversation. I would not be too long..."

"What? But..." started Philip.

"No protest in my house! Alright, see you later!"

She turned her heels and walked out of the palace, followed by her butler.

The two men stood silent, looking at each other. Piero broke the silence as he tried a joke:

"I see that you finally shaved your beard..."

The prince chuckled:

"Yes, indeed. As you can see, my interview with the shaving foam went well."

"I hope my joke didn't offend you."

"Absolutely not. I'm fond of that kind of blunt humor, and I was pretty happy to find someone to share it with!"

"You see me honored, Your Highness."

Philip shook his head negatively.

"No formalities with me: we are not at Buckingham Palace! You can call me Philip!"

Piero was surprised by this inquiry but didn't really pay attention:

"However you like, Philip. In that case, you can call me Piero. Or Peter, if you prefer."

"Understood, Piero."

The young man asked:

"Did your wife ask you to shave?"

Piero regretted asking that question because he saw a glimmer of sadness in the Duke's eyes.

The latter sighed:

"No, I was the one who took that initiative. And to be honest, my wife doesn't really care about my hair choices. In fact, she doesn't really care about me at all!"

This revelation surprised Piero: he did not expect Prince Philip to make such a confession to him about his married life!

"You ... are you arguing?"

"If only that was all that! But unfortunately, there is also indifference, contempt, and estrangement!"

"I am sincerely sorry for you, Your Highness. But you know, all may not be lost: things will surely work out ..."

Philip laughed bitterly:

"How I would like to be as optimistic as you! But when the person you love goes to seek passion elsewhere, you no longer have any illusions!"

"Indeed, seen from that angle, it is a bad start to save a marriage ... But why are you telling me all this? You do not have to tell me these things."

With these words, the prince approached the young artist and replied:

“That's right, I'm not supposed to tell anyone about it. But I've been looking for someone for so long who could listen to me and understand me. I'm tired of feeling isolated… Nonetheless, ever since I met you, Piero, it's like the light has returned to my life. Yes, I know we barely got to know each other, but I've always trusted my instincts when it comes to people I meet, and I've been right every time. "

Piero began to understand where the duke was going and panicked:

"Huh? Oh no! No, no, no, and three times no!"

"What do you mean?" Philip asked, confused.

"I can see exactly what you want to ask, and I refuse! I don't want to be a simple consolation prize! I saw what it was like to be the lover of a king or a prince, and it doesn't make you want to be one! "

He continued in a calm tone:

"I have no doubt that you are a handsome man with many qualities, but I cannot accept being just a passing lover until the day you reconcile with the queen. I do not like the idea of being a simple shoulder to cry on that you give up as soon as everything is better. "

Philip was speechless: he expected everything but that! However, he should have waited a bit before declaring his love. But the tension in his relationship was so unbearable that he despaired finding someone he could love unconditionally.

And this young Piero was the person he needed ... he still had to accept!

Philip dropped to his knees in front of the young man, and took his hands between his while looking at him with pleading eyes:

"I swear Piero: if you were to become my lover, it's because I feel like no love exists anymore between Elizabeth and me. I suffered from abandonment when I was just a child, and I know only too well the harm it does. I would never do this to a person who is dear to me..."

"But get up, damn it! If we were seen like that ..." Piero stammered, panicked.

"I don't care! I know you are suspicious of beautiful promises, but I swear to you that I will never disappoint you. You will always be showered with gifts ..."

"Hang on! I'm not a materialist!"

"I know, I know ... I will make sure to spend time with you, I will call you regularly ... I will be the most devoted lover that can exist!"

The young man laughs lightly:

"Please, it feels like a Barbara Cartland novel!"

"Thank you for this unflattering comparison!" grumbled the prince, who smiled.

Philip stood up and asked:

"What are you going to decide?"

Piero bit his lip: to tell the truth, he was torn between two feelings. On the one hand, he was scared to become the lover of the Duke of Edinburgh. He did not want to betray the Queen and being the next prey of the press!

But on the other side, he had to admit that he was always fascinated by Prince Philip and his magnetic charm. And then there was this vulnerability in this man that the young man found irresistible.

After a few minutes of thought, he replied:

"I admit that this somewhat surprising declaration of love took me by surprise. And even if I do not want to be an accomplice in adultery, I want to give you a chance!"

Reassured, Philip dared to kiss the young man's tanned forehead and replied:

"I promise you won't regret it! How much time do I have ahead of me?"

"Two months. I think that will give me time to see if I can give it a go or not."

"And that will be more than enough to convince you!" Philip laughed.

10 months later. May 1973

The spring sun sneaked through the curtains, caressing Piero's sleepy face.

The latter woke up slowly and opened his eyes, a smile on his face.

He turned and fondly looked at his sleeping lover. 

The young man smiled when he saw Philip so appeased: he was happy to have accepted the prince consort's proposal.

At the same time, the latter succeeded in his probationary period: he was a considerate, loving, affectionate, and caring boyfriend. 

Piero had never had so many presents in his life: the number of beautiful clothes that filled his wardrobe was impressive. And what about the magnificent jewelry that Philip brought back from his official trips?

All this had convinced the young man to become Prince Philip's lover, but also his confidant: it was to him that the Duke of Edinburgh told of his marital misfortunes and his doubts about his ability to be a good father for their children. And Piero felt privileged to be one of the few to know Philip's emotional wounds.

But what made their relationship so intense was when they had sex. Although the prince was a middle-aged man, he was an experienced and vigorous lover. The first time they had sex, they took their time to get to know each other's bodies better and to have fun.

The other times, the antics were more intense, even passionate ... as was the case last night, when they "celebrated" Philip's return from an official trip to America.

He remembered the feel of Philip's rough yet gentle hands on his body, their bodies moving against each other, their cries of pleasure filling the air... It was a pleasant experience, even if it was the umpteenth time they made love.

Of course, the two lovers would like to see each other more often, but they had to be discreet so as not to attract the attention of the media, let alone that of the Queen.

But hey, that didn't bother Piero who was delighted not to become the new darling of London.

Suddenly he felt Philip stretch and wake up. The prince turned to his lover and smiled at him:

"Hello, mein Liebe. You are very early."

"To believe that I took your bad habit!" the young man smiled.

"But it's not a bad habit to be early in the morning. On the contrary, it gives me more time to enjoy your presence ..." the duke replied before kissing his lover.

"Speaking of having time to spare, wasn't it today that you promised Charles to have lunch with him?"

"Damn, I almost forgot!" Philip exclaimed, hopping out of bed before rushing into the bathroom.

"What a scatterbrain!" Piero laughed while getting dressed.

"I heard you!"

"That was the goal, amore!" replied the young man, teasingly.

5 minutes later, the Duke comes out of the bathroom, ready to return to his obligations.

"Am I presentable?"

"Honestly, you are still handsome!"

Smiling, Philip kissed his lover's cheek:

"I'll call you tonight, I promise."

"I will wait impatiently for your call ... Come on, go join your son!"

"I'm going right now. See you tonight!"

"See you tonight!"

As the Duke left the house, Peter lay still on his bed, a thoughtful smile on his lips.

He was glad that the relationship between Philip and his children had improved, especially thanks to his advice.

Piero had relied on his life with his parents and siblings to empower his lover to be a more present father to his children.

Speaking of which, Piero would love to meet his lover's offspring: seeing how Philip talks about it, they must be very nice young people.

He would love to talk about the arts with Charles, who seemed to be very passionate about it. 

He would also appreciate being able to walk with Anne and talk about lots of things or reassure her about her future as a young bride. 

He would love to give fashion advice to Andrew who was already paying attention to his appearance when he was only 13 years old.

 And he would be happy to spend time with Edward, the youngest of the siblings. 

This boy worried his father a lot because he was silent and always seemed sad...

Suddenly the phone rang, interrupting Piero's thoughts. 

He picked up the phone:

"Hello?"

"**Dear Piero, how are you?**"

"Oh, hello, Margaret. I'm fine, thank you. How about you?"

"**Oh, it's okay. As much as I wish I hadn't had tea with Sally Frodenborough! This woman is so boring, I thought I was going to fall asleep!**"

The young man laughed.

"Now do you understand why I politely decline her invitations for tea?"

"**You'll tell me so much ... But let's forget about it! Tell me instead about your relationship with my esteemed brother-in-law! How is it going?**"

"It's a fairy tale, I can't say better!"

Piero knew he owed it all to Margaret: she was the one who introduced them at that party at Kensington Palace. Since then, she had become an ally and a friend of the couple and did not hesitate to invite them to her home so that they could meet again.

All this with the benevolent complicity of her husband, Anthony.

Over time, the princess and the young artist became good friends, and she often invited Piero to have tea at her place.

"**Glad to hear that, darling. Besides, I have to say that your relationship is very positive for Philip. He is happier, more serene, and closer to his children. You did a great job!**"

"I only encouraged him, he did the rest!"

"**Don't be so modest! However, I think my sister is suspecting something!**"

Hearing this, Piero felt a chill run through his spine: if the queen ever learned that her husband was cheating on her with a simple artist, he feared the worst!

"When you say she suspects something, do you mean she suspects Philip of adultery?"

"**No, I wouldn't go that far. But she can see the change in Philip's mood and she knows it's not her responsibility. She's not really trying to find out, but let's be careful!**"

"You're right ... But, I admit that there are times I wish I could spend more time with Philip. I understand he's doing his best without raising suspicion, but ..."

"**I see what you mean, and I understand you ... Oh wait: I just got an idea!**"

"Again? But it never stops"

"**My dad always said I was the most imaginative of the family. Okay, here's what we could do...**"

A week later, at Buckingham Palace.

In one of the palace rooms, Queen Elizabeth was having tea with her mother, Queen Mum.

"But what is Margaret doing? She should have been here since 10 minutes ago!" the sovereign said impatiently.

"Don't be so harsh on your sister, Lilibeth. I've heard that traffic in London is a bit chaotic right now. If so, she got stuck in a traffic jam."

"Maybe ..." Elizabeth replied.

Suddenly a servant entered the room and announced:

"Her Royal Highness, Princess Margaret, your Majesty!"

"Finally, here she is! Let her in, thank you!"

The servant shifted and let Margaret in, accompanied by a dark, smartly dressed young man.

"Hello, my dear sister! Hello, mom! Sorry for the inconvenience, but there was an accident near Piccadilly Circus which disrupted all traffic. I thought we would never get there!"

"You see, Elizabeth: I was right ..."

"Indeed, mum. But tell me, Margaret, who is this man with you?"

"I was just going to explain it to you: you see, I thought back to your history of tutoring for Andrew and Edward. And it turns out that this young man, Piero De Angelis, worked as a tutor in very good families. Here, I have some letters of recommendation from them. " she said, handing out a few missives.

Elizabeth took the letters and read them in silence. After reading it, she said:

"My word, your former employers are heap praise on you, Mr. De Angelis. They compliment your pedagogy, your intellect, as well as your patience with children."

She gave a slight smile.

"Since my sister seems to find you suitable for her nephews, I think we can take you on for a trial period."

Piero respectfully bowed while giving the monarch a hand kiss.

"It would be a great honor for me to serve you, Your Majesty!"

"This young man looks very pleasant to me. In my opinion, your sons will be in good hands!" said the Queen Mother, amused.

"Thank you for placing your trust in me, Your Excellency!" Piero replied, giving a slight bow.

At the same time, the door opened and Philip entered the room.

"Ah, Philip: at the right time! I present to you Andrew and Edward's new tutor."

Seeing who it was, Philip thought he was having a heart attack: but what was Piero doing here? It was too risky!

When he saw Margaret by his side, it didn't take long for him to realize that she had yet come up with a completely crazy idea.

Straightening up slightly, he cleared his throat and politely said:

"Welcome, sir ..."

"My name is Piero De Angelis, Your Highness. It is a huge honor to meet you in person!"

The duke refrained from smiling: he had forgotten that his lover was an excellent actor. And he had just proven his talent in front of everyone!

"And how did he convince you to hire him?"

"He was warmly recommended to me by several high society families. All were satisfied with the work of Mr. De Angelis. It seemed logical to me to have a competent person to supervise the education of your youngest sons."

"Sounds perfectly fine to me!" replied the prince consort.

Satisfied with her husband's response, the Queen said:

"Perfect. Then maybe you could introduce Mister De Angelis to his future students?"

"But of course. If you will follow me, sir ..."

And as they were about to leave, Margaret followed on their heels:

"I'm going with them, just to make sure Philip would not terrorize the poor schoolmaster!"

"Hey, I am not a monster!" scoffed Philip.

The three left the room. The duke waited to be far from his wife to scolding his lover and his sister-in-law.

"What's got into you? Did you ever think about the risk of being caught?"

"Oh, don't be such a coward! I thought you would be pleased to have your lovebird here!" whispered Margaret.

"And I thought it would be easier for you if I work here. You won't have to find excuses to see me... Besides, I wanted to meet your children."

The prince consort raised an eyebrow.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me: I wanted to meet your children. You talked about them since we started dating, that I aspired to know them better."

Philip pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed: it would be a miracle if Margaret and Piero did not drive him crazy. But, at least, he would manage to spend quality time with his sweetheart. So, why not take the risk?

"Fine, you convinced me. But, we have to intensify our discretion. Otherwise, we will be doomed!"

"I'll be careful, don't worry!" promised Piero as he gently held his lover's hand.

"Aw, you are so cute!" mockingly cooed Margaret.

"Please, Maggie: stop killing the mood!" grumbled the prince consort, rolling his eyes.

4 months later. August 1973.

"How do you find my drawing, Piero?"

"Let me look at it... Oh, it's beautiful! You have some talent, Edward!"

The young boy happily giggled: he really appreciated his new tutor. Unlike his predecessor, Piero was kind, patient, funny, and really interesting. Thanks to him, the little prince quickly understood his lesson by heart, and his grades improved. The same evolution can be noticed for Andrew: the teenager preferred learning with Piero to listening to his teachers at school.

"You think I am talented?"

"Absolutely! And for who you draw this?"

"For Anne! It would be her present for her wedding!"

"That's absolutely sweet, Edward. I am sure that she would love it!"

Speaking of the princess, she entered the room.

"Good afternoon, Mister De Angelis! Hello, Eddie!"

"Hi, Annie!"

"Good afternoon, Your Highness. How are you today?"

"Fine, thanks. I just come back from a horse-riding session with Mark!"

"Oh, lovely. How it went?"

"It went nice until it started raining. But we finished fast, so I would not soil the clean wooden floors of Buckingham Palace!" snickered Anne.

"Annie! Look what I've drawn for you!" cheerfully exclaimed Edward as he handed his drawing to his sister.

"Oh, thank you: I love it! I will show it to Mark: he would be impressed!"

"Can I draw something for him?"

"Why don't you ask him when he will come back?"

"Alright, I will wait!"

At the same time, Andrew entered the room, dressed in a nice suit.

"Good grief! I thought Mr. Brownsfield would never let us go!"

"Watch your language, young man! If your mother hears you, you will end up being lectured for hours!" gently advised Piero.

"I know, I know... But I am so relieved to be here!"

"I have noticed!"

Anne lightly cleared her throat.

"Piero, can we talk... in private with Andrew and you?"

"Of course! Edward, could you go with your grandmother? I have to discuss some important topics with your siblings."

"Are we finishing the lesson?"

"Yes, indeed. You can go!"

"Alright!" nodded the young boy as he exited the salon.

Soon as Edward left, the young man asked:

"What do you want to talk about, Anne?"

The princess sighed before answering:

"Well, it's about Charles... He is not well."

"Do you mean he is ill?"

"Depressed would be more accurate!"

"Oh, dear! And what depress him?"

Andrew explained:

"Well, his ex-girlfriend got married in July! And he did not really cope with their separation, months ago!"

Piero nodded: he knew that Charles was heart-broken since Camilla Shand, his former sweetheart, ended their love story last year. But he did not expect to be downcast to this point.

"And do you want me... to have a conversation with him?"

"Anne and I thought it would be helpful. After all, you are close to his age!"

"Mark tried to cheer his mood, but it did not work well!"

"Mh, I see... Fine, I will see what I can do!"

The two princes seemed relieved.

"Thank you for your help, Piero."

"That's what I am supposed to do. Where is he?"

"In the gardens. He needed some air..."

Thanking Anne and Andrew, Piero walked downstairs to the gardens where he found Charles, wandering like a lost soul.

"Charles?"

The Crown Prince looked at the schoolmaster and the latter saw deep grief in his eyes.

Slightly sighing, Piero kindly asked:

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I... I don't know."

"As you want. Perhaps it would take a weight off your mind..."

The prince breathed before asking:

"Could you walk with me... please?"

"Sure, of course."

The young man joined Charles, and they started walking through the gardens.

"I don't know how it happened... I should have known that she favored that Parker-Bowles over me! But I still clung to the last straw of hope until I heard of their engagement!"

"I'm sorry for your heartbreak, Charles. But that was another life lesson, even though it hurts..."

The Prince of Wales sadly sighed.

"And as if it was not painful enough, Mother still pressures me to find a suitable bride... Even Father worried about it!"

"You are only 25 years old: you will find her, I feel it!"

"If only my dear parents were as optimistic as you, Piero. But no, they repeated all day long that Father married Mother when he was my age, and I'm exhausted hearing it all the time!"

"What does your grandmother think about it?"

"She says that I should not hurry to find my future wife, because a hasty marriage would inevitably end in a disaster!"

Piero nodded.

"Your grandmother is right, Charles: if you only follow what your duties command, you will bitterly regret your decision for the rest of your life. Of course, you have to find your future Queen, but you must love her as much as she loves you!"

He saw tears forming in Charles's eyes.

"I know but... I feel like everything I do is not enough for my parents. Am I just a good for nothing?"

Instinctively, the young artist knew that he would break the etiquette... but who cares? So, he did hug Charles in a comforting embrace, gently stroking his back.

"It's okay, Charles. I am here."

The prince did not cry, but he felt relieved that someone finally comforted him, so he hugged back Piero.

"I know this is not very formal, but I thought it would help you!"

"To hell with formality! I needed someone listening to me..."

They stopped the hug and Charles stated:

"I understand why Andrew and Edward appreciated you, Mister De Angelis: your patience and your kindness are helpful for the four of us!"

Piero shrugged.

"I just... do what I think is the best for everyone!"

"And I am glad that someone like you ensures our well-being..."

The young man smiled.

"You have no idea how much I am honored to have your trust, Charles. Listen: I will talk with your parents about it, and we will sort it out!"

"Thank you, Piero."

Unbeknownst to the two men, Philip was looking at them from the window of his office. The Duke of Edinburgh smiled while seeing his lover bonding with his son: indeed, he was happy that his four children appreciated Piero. Even though neither of them is ready to tell the princes the truth about their relationship: they have to wait...

In the evening...

"Do you want your son going bonkers? Stop pressuring him about his love life!"

"But he is still unmarried! At his age..."

"Yes, yes, I know the story: at his age, you were already married to Elizabeth!"

Philip pinched the bridge of his nose: Piero and he argued about Charles's single status. His beloved artist thought that his eldest son would go down into depression because of the familial pressure.

"Piero, I understand your concern about Charles, but he knows his duties..."

"Oh, please: don't start lecturing me about duties! If you were that meticulous about duties, you would never choose to cheat on your wife!"

"Don't muddle up things, would you? She started the war!"

"Don't change the subject, would you? We are talking about your son, in case you forget it!"

Piero sighed.

"Charles believed that he felt like a failure towards you. And he can't count on his mother to dismiss his fears! For God's sake, be more supportive of your son!"

"But..."

"No buts! You have to admit that your eldest son is not your carbon copy!"

"I admitted it! But people start talking: he is unmarried, had no official girlfriends, and he prefers attending parties! Rumors are spreading all around the kingdom."

His lover gave him a dark look and said with a cold tone:

"Let me ask you this simple question, Philip of Edinburgh: what matters the most for you? The public image or the well-being of your son?"

Philip stayed silent, much to Piero's displeasure:

"Fine, I see... You know what? You have all night to think about it."

He turned his heels and walked away.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Did you really think I will spend the rest of the night with someone who does not listen to my advice? I really want to help you, Philip, and especially because I love you. But if you don't pull your weight, there is nothing more I can do. Good night!"

As he watched his lover walking away from him, the prince stood, desperate and worried. He messed up everything with his children, and now he messed up his love affair!

Philip sighed: why everything was so complicated? But, he had to acknowledge that Piero was right: he went back to his wrong habits, once again. 

And if he wanted to save what mattered the most to him, Philip had no other choice: he had to repair his faults...

14th November 1973.

The Westminster Abbey bells happily rang in the air. Indeed, the United Kingdom celebrated the wedding of Princess Anne and Captain Mark Phillips. A joyous day for the kingdom, and also for the royal family... Well, almost for Philip. Of course, he was so proud to walk his daughter down the aisle: what kind of father would not be happy for his child on this special day?

But what saddened the prince consort was that Piero barely talked to him since their argument about Charles. He could not blame him: the young man cared more about Charles, Anne, Andrew, and Edward than their own mother. 

As he watched his lovely Anne and Mark exchanging their vows, the prince spotted Piero, sitting near the Duchess of Gloucester. 

He knew that his wife allowed the presence of the young man at the ceremony to look after Edward, who was the page boy of his sister.

Piero was dashing in his pearl-grey suit, his white gloves, and his perfectly combed dark hair. Philip never ceased to be amazed by the angelic beauty of his lover. If only they did not argue 4 months ago, the prince would have already told the young artist how amazing he was.

But the young man was not inclined to speak with him yet, and this situation saddened Philip. 

Meanwhile, Margaret saw the two lovers with a sad smile: she hoped that this argument between Piero and Philip would not last long, as she feared it would break her brother-in-law's heart. She knew that the young Mister De Angelis was the only one for Philip, and she could not let this match made in heaven falling apart. 

Margaret smiled as she got another idea: the wedding reception will be the perfect occasion for a reconciliation...

Soon as they reached Buckingham Palace for the wedding lunch, Margaret whispered to Philip:

"Please, I know that you suffer, but talk to him!"

"I want to, but every time I look in his eyes... I only see anger and sadness. And I am the one who upset him!"

She gently patted his shoulder.

"You know what? Weddings are the best occasion to prove our love... or heal a relationship."

She winked before walking away, congratulating the newlyweds. As he thought about Maggie's musings, Philip smirked: after all, he learned to never give up what he held dear. And he would never give up on Piero... 

Later that day, as the guests were too busy dancing, gossiping, or enjoying food, the prince slipped away from the crowd and wandered in the corridors when he spotted Piero in a room, retouching his make-up. 

Smiling, Philip entered and said:

"Oh, dear: you do not need to change anything. You are already beautiful!"

Startled, the young artist stammered:

"What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk, I think.

Piero raised an eyebrow: 

"Really? About what?"

Philip closed the door behind him before answering:

"We need to talk about us. It feels like years since I hold you in my arms..."

"And why you do not hold me in your arms, precisely?"

The prince sighed.

"Because of my stubbornness, we are apart. And I regret it every second since that night. You were right from the beginning, Piero: what is the purpose of your help if I did not listen to your advice? I should have known that you're the right person since you only wanted the best for me. My words might sound hollow, but I will be grateful to you for being here when I felt alone!"

The young man sighed before looking at his royal lover with a sheepish smile:

"I had to confess: at first, I did not speak to you because I wanted to be sure you learned your lesson. But then... I took pleasure letting you stew for a moment."

Philip was shocked.

"Are you bloody kidding me?"

"Not at all. Besides... I already forgive you, my stubborn Viking!"

The prince smirked:

"And they said Arlequin is the trickster in chief... Looks like they underestimated Pierrot!"

"And you love it!"

"Oh yes!"

Piero laughed wholeheartedly. Then, he stated:

"So, you said that you missed the sensation of holding me..."

He opened his arms:

"Why don't we make up for lost time?"

Philip did not need to be asked twice and rushed into his arms, kissing him feverishly. Their hands rediscovered their bodies, every touch drawing breathed moans of pleasure from the two lovers.

"I love you, Piero."

"Ti amo, Philip."

And while the kingdom celebrated the wedding, the prince and the artist rejoiced in their reunion. 

June 1975. Balmoral Castle.

The summer went well for the royal family, and everyone appreciated the peacefulness of the Scottish countryside. For Piero, it was like discovering another place. He was amazed by the soft colors of the countryside and the calm surroundings, far from the lively Londonian life. 

To be honest, he did not expect the Queen to invite him to spend some days at Balmoral, but apparently, Edward insisted, and she accepted. How could he refuse the opportunity to be closer to his dear Philip? 

However, they both tried to be careful as he did not want to be caught by Elizabeth or the Queen Mother. 

But everything changed one day, as Elizabeth left with some of her friends for a horse-riding stroll with some of her friends, and her dear Mister Acherville.

It did not bother Philip, as he took advantage of her absence to spend some time with his dear artist. Once his wife went away, he looked for Piero until he found him in the gallery room, looking at the different pictures hanging on the walls.

Coming near to him, the prince gently held the young man from behind and said:

"Are you judging the quality of the paintings?"

"Well, I have to be honest that the painters were talented. Your wife should add your own paintings!"

"Seriously? She said it would look out of place... Besides, you are far more talented than me!"

Piero chuckled:

"You flatterer!"

"It is the truth! You're my perfect little Da Vinci!"

The young man turned around and put his arms around Philip's neck:

"And you're my handsome Saint John the Baptist with a mischievous smile!"

"You like my mischievous part of me!"

"No, I don't like it... I adore it!" chuckled Piero before kissing his lover.

Amused, the prince answered the kiss with the same passion... until they heard a collective gasp of shock!

They turned around and saw Charles, Anne, Mark, Andrew, and Edward who stood near the door, astounded and silent.

Horrified, Philip stammered:

"I... I can explain everything..."

"You better explain, yes!" said Anne with a cold tone.

Mark closed the door behind them, preventing any gossiping from the staff.

"Now that we are alone, can you explain what happens?"

"This scene does not really need an explanation..." smirked Charles.

Ashamed, the prince started to explain:

"I guess that we do not have the choice. As you have noticed, your mother and I do not have a good relationship for some years. I thought that it would improve, but she decided to spend some time with another man. I was so desperate, and I neglected you - and I am sorry for that. And then, your aunt Margaret introduced me to Piero..."

"Auntie Maggie and her plans!" snickered Andrew.

"You got the point, Andrew. And so, at the very moment I knew Piero, I felt like something changed... To be honest, I felt that I fell in love again. I would be forever grateful to Piero for everything he did for me."

"Was it your idea to hire him as Andrew and Edward's tutor?" asked Charles.

"No, it was again Margaret's idea. And I saw how you felt better since he spends time with all of you!"

"Do you plan to tell us the truth one day?" asked Andrew.

"We aspired to, but I do not want you to see me as an intruder in your family. But I can assure you that I deeply love your father as he loves me!" explained Piero.

The five young people looked at each other before Edward answered:

"You know, Mister Piero, I don't mind if you are in love with Papa. Besides, you love all of us more than Mum does. So, I am happy to have you here with us!"

"He is right: at least, you listen to us and you try to encourage us, unlike Mother!" added Andrew.

"I do not really care about my parents' affairs, as we all know that their marriage is doomed. But now, let's be honest, Piero: you made him happy, and it matters the most for us!" stated Charles with a genuine smile.

"I have to confess that this is quite unusual... But, my dear Anne has a high opinion of you, Mister De Angelis, and so am I. Don't worry, we won't tell anyone about your affair!" smiled Mark.

"You see, Father, we all support you, and we are happy to have Piero with us at Buckingham Palace. So, there is no need to worry." grinned Anne.

The two lovers sighed with relief: at least, they accepted their relationship. 

"Thank you very much!" breathed Philip with a slight smile.

"You're welcome, Father. But, the next time you want to show Piero your affection... Try being discreet!" laughed Andrew.

"He takes that from you, dear!" chuckled Piero.

"I guess so..." sighed Philip, even if he could not help smiling.

It looked like, after all, that they gained new allies... 

27 August 1979.

In his house, Piero was dozing on his couch, reading a collection of poetry works by Oscar Wilde while he listened to some trendy music on the radio.

Suddenly, he heard the voice of a journalist interrupting the music:

"Ladies and gentleman, we interrupt our program as dreadful news has just been released by Buckingham Palace: today, Lord Louis Mountbatten, Admiral of the Fleet and former Viceroy of India, has been killed by a bomb planted aboard his fishing boat while he was spending his holiday with his family in his summer home in Mullaghmore, in the north-west of Ireland. 

We deplored also the tragic loss of his grandson Nicholas Knatchbull and Paul Maxwell, a young local crew member. The remaining people present on the boat when the attack happened, suffered from serious injuries and were transported to the closest hospital..."

Piero dropped his book, troubled: it could not be! He rushed to his phone and dialed Philip's number. After a few seconds, he heard his lover's voice:

"**Hello?**"

"Philip, it's me! I have just heard about your uncle! Is that true?"

The slight sobbing on the other side of the phone answered his question:

"**They... They murdered him, Piero! They killed him! And they took his grandson's life! How dared they?**"

"I am terribly sorry for your loss, my love. I know how much he was a loved one to you..."

After all, Louis Mountbatten was not only the uncle of Philip: he was his paternal figure, a role model he praised so many times. Piero could not imagine how his lover suffered from this tragic loss.

"My condolences, amore mio. You are in my prayers, you and your family. I hope that the injured will recover soon."

"I hope so... Thank you for your call."

"You're welcome. How are the children?"

"Charles is deeply upset, Anne is crying, Andrew cannot believe it, and Edward tried to cope with this tragedy."

"I imagine... Don't hesitate to comfort them."

"I will... I am sorry, but I have to quit: Elizabeth required my help to organize the funeral. I'll call you later."

"Don't worry, it's fine. See you later, my love."

"See you later, angelo mio!"

As he hung up, Piero felt bad for Philip: his lover endured so many hardships in his life that the young man wondered if he can handle this new tragedy... 

5th September 1979.

Sitting in his living-room, Peter watched the funeral of Louis Mountbatten on television. He watched the royal family, Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and her husband Denis, and some major figures of the kingdom attending the obsequies, all dressed in black and showing a sad expression on their faces. 

The young man wished he could attend the funeral, just to be here for Philip and comforting him. But it was the mourning of a family, and he did not belong to this family...

Later that day, he heard a knock on his door.

"I don't remember to entertain someone today..." muttered Piero as he opened the door.

Much to his surprise, Philip stood there.

"Philip? But what are you doing here?"

"I needed to see you... Because I have something to tell you. May I come in?"

"Of course!"

The young man stepped aside and let the prince enter the house. Then, he closed the door behind him and asked:

"Do you want something to drink?"

"No, thank you."

"Alright. May I know what are doing here?"

He noticed that Philip held a large box under his arm.

"Hm, what is this?"

The duke sighed before explaining:

"Since the murder of my uncle, I thought about everything that happened in my life, both good and bad memories. And then, I thought about us, and I realize how important you are to me since we started our relationship. I wish I had met you sooner, but there we are. This tragedy casts light on the most significant person in my life: you."

He opened the box, revealing a golden crown before he put the ornament at Piero's feet. Then, he gets on one knee and said:

"You deserve everything, Piero. And moreover, you would be a wonderful consort. That's why I wanted to put a crown at your feet..."

"Wait for a second: it looks like a proposal... But you are already married!"

"I know, I know. I cannot divorce Elizabeth, and I think you understand that. But it is my way to say that I will belong to you, and you only for the rest of my life. And I wanted to know if you feel the same..."

Piero nervously chuckled.

"Oh Lord, that was unexpected!"

He kneeled near Philip and replied:

"I won't ask you to nullify your marriage, because I know what are the consequences. But I am moved by your gesture, and if you want to know, I will never look at someone else the way I am looking at you. I love you, Philip Mountbatten, and it won't change..."

"I love you too, Piero De Angelis." smiled Philip, relieved, before he kissed Piero.

As they tightly held each other, the two lovers felt like the sadness was less oppressive. They had the impression that nothing could tear them apart and they will surpass everything together.

October 1979.

"So, tell me more about this charming girl. What is her name, already?"

"Her name is Diana. Diana Spencer."

"What a lovely name! Is she the daughter of Count John Spencer?"

"Exactly."

Walking through the halls of Buckingham Palace, Charles and Piero were talking about the Crown Prince's new girlfriend, the young Diana Spencer.

"I know that you're dating her for perhaps one month, but how is your relationship?"

"Quite good, to be honest. She is calm, smiling, quite smart... Of course, she had different hobbies than mine but... I guess it's alright."

"I would like to meet her. I can invite both of you to my place if you want."

"It would be a pleasure."

A servant arrived.

"Mister De Angelis."

"Yes?"

"Her Majesty The Queen requires your presence in her office. If you please follow me..."

Piero was intrigued: why would the Queen want to see him?

"Alright, I arrive. See you later, your Highness."

"See you later, Mister De Angelis."

Piero followed the servant until they arrived in front of the door. The man knocked at the door before he announced:

"Mister De Angelis, Your Majesty."

"Perfect, George. Good afternoon, Mister De Angelis."

"Your Majesty," replied Piero.

The servant left the room. 

The young man politely said:

"Your Majesty, I renew my condolences after the tragic loss of Lord Mountbatten... I shall say that I share your pain."

The Queen answered in a neutral tone:

"Thank you for your consideration, Mister De Angelis. However, the pain is not the only thing we share..."

Puzzled, Piero asked:

"May I know what are you talking about?"

She looked at him with contempt:

"Don't you dare think I am a fool, Mister De Angelis? I have learned that you have an affair with my husband!"

Piero stared in amazement: how could she know about it? He was sure none of the children told their mother, neither Margaret nor Philip. So, it must be a servant...

"I am astounded by such accusations, Your Majesty. Your husband and I have only cordial relationships, and that's all!"

"Stop spreading your lies. I know that you are the mysterious person my husband comes to see almost every day."

She came closer to him and snarled:

"I gave you my trust, I even left my children with you, and this is how you thanked me?"

Usually, the young artist would have lowered his head and being ashamed. But this time, he stared defiantly at her and said with a cold tone: 

"Maybe I would be the rudest man in your kingdom, Your Majesty, but I can't stand such hypocrisy. Especially when it comes from someone who hurt her children and cheated on her devoted husband..."

"How dare you?!"

"I can ask you the same. You did not expect that I knew your dirty little secrets, am I right? After all, your lover was not really careful: he put his latest love letter in my office. What a big mistake!"

He restrained himself from smiling as he saw Elizabeth grew pale.

"But, I am a gentleman: I won't tell the media about your romance if you let us alone. Otherwise, the entire Commonwealth will hear about his adulterous Queen..."

"You have some nerve to threaten me as you do, Mister De Angelis..."

"I don't threaten, I warn: this is all the difference. After all, you would not have hesitated to destroy my life. Let's say that we are on equal terms for now..."

Suddenly, Philip and Margaret burst through the door.

"Ah, right in time, Philip. I have just tell Mister De Angelis that I knew about your affair."

As Philip was shocked, Margaret raised an eyebrow.

"And then? It's not like Philip was the only guilty!"

"You were supposed to support me, not to defy me!" snapped Elizabeth.

"How am I supposed to do that, as you enjoy belittle all your family members - it is a miracle that Mother is the only exception. And you deserve what happened..."

"Should I understand that you are behind this?"

"Absolutely, and I won't regret anything I did! And I am so glad that Philip has someone who did what you are supposed to do!"

The Queen fumed as she understood that her sister and her husband joined forces against her.

Philip added:

"You see, Elizabeth: you throw me away, but I won't running after you anymore. I finally find love again, and if you dare to mess up everything, I would not mind telling your friends about your relationship with Acherville."

Seething, Elizabeth raised her head in an arrogant gesture and declared:

"That is not going to happen for long, Philip. You know where your place is, and you will give this entertainer up!"

"I don't think so, dear wife. I am not the one who gives up so easily..."

He smirked.

"Now that you know everything, shall we leave you?"

"You're dismissed. Now, go!" she replied with a short tone.

The trio left the room, a relieved smile on their faces. However, they won't drop their guard, as they knew how embittered Elizabeth can be.

But it looked like she lost the war. Now, it was Philip and Piero's turn to conquer Buckingham Palace... 

To be continued...

N.B: This request is written like an AU and changed many things from the characters to the events. 

Please be kind and comprehensive and don’t snap about it!

Anyway, I hope you liked the story and I am waiting for your requests.

See you soon! 😘😷😍🥰💖

[the-lightning-mage]

OC Interview: Beatrix Cousland

I saw this floating around and decided to do it for some of mine (Graham’s up next). I’m including some of my own questions, and I’ve seen various other questions used by different people. If you specifically came up with some of them, let me know so I can credit you! This is for my Warden and is set anywhere from after the beginning of Act 1 of DA2 to before she leaves to find the cure.

Introduction

Can you introduce yourself?

She smirks and scoffs slightly before she starts talking, “Prepare yourself for a long list of titles. I am Beatrix Cousland, Arlessa of Amaranthine, Warden-Commander of Ferelden, Queen of Ferelden, and Hero of Ferelden. But those closest to me call me Bea.”

What is your gender identity, orientation, and relationship status?

“I am a woman. I like men and women, though I do have a preference for men. And,” her smirk breaks into a full blown grin, “I am married to the most wonderful man in all of Thedas. You may know him as King Alistair, but he’s more than that.”

Where and when were you born? 

“I was born in Castle Cousland in Highever, like all other Couslands before me, and I was born in 9:10 Dragon.”

What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

“I’m good with any blade really, though I stay away from Greatswords. In front of people who have not seen me fight before, I enjoy dual-wielding longswords, because the look of intimidation is priceless. I usually spring for two daggers though. One of which belonged to Duncan,” a slight look of sadness appeared on her face, but she shook her head and continued, “As for my fighting style... I’m a rogue, through and through. My friend Zevran taught me some of the techniques that the Antivan Crows use, and a friend of his, a pirate, taught me her personal style of dueling when we met her in The... we met her Denerim.”

Lastly, are you happy?

“I am, now. I struggled to find happiness in the beginning of the Blight. I don’t think I would’ve made it without Alistair. But now? I’m happier than I thought I would be. I miss my family, and my friends, but I am in the best place I could be now.”

Family and Friends

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

That look of sadness is back, “My... most of my blood relatives are dead. My parents, my nephew, my sister-in-law... The only close relative that is still alive is my older brother, Fergus, and he is very, very dear to me. I of course have Alistair. I love him more than anything in the world. Then there is the Wardens and my closest friends, and I consider them my family,” the sadness fades, and she starts laughing, “If you had told me that I would consider Nathaniel Howe family back when the Blight started I would’ve never have had believed you.”

Have you ever ran away from home?

“Hmmm... I’ve sneaked out, and I’ve fled from my home, but I’ve never ran away.”

Would you consider marriage or having children?

“I’m already married, so I did consider marriage. Now, I don’t think I would ever remarry if... well, I don’t want to think about that. As for children... I want to have children, but,” she places a hand on her stomach, “Wardens. Our fertility is so low that it’s practically non-existent. And given that both Alistair and I have gone through the Joining... At the very least we will adopt a child. Maker knows that they could use it. The nobles who oppose it can go to the Void.”

Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

“Why would I be friends with someone I hate?” She makes a disgusted face, “Am I friendly with people I dislike on the other hand? Yes, sadly. It’s part of being both a Commander and part of the nobility. It’s one of the biggest downfalls of the nobility.”

Which friend knows everything about you?

“Well, Alistair of course, but that’s a given. Other than him... it’s probably a rather odd tie between Zevran and Nathaniel. How Nathaniel and I got to that point... I still struggle to understand it. Leliana and I used to be closer, but I don’t get to see her as often as Zev.”

Other

Are you religious?

“It’s complicated. I believe in Andraste and the Maker, but the Chantry is a whole other beast. This world cannot be what Andraste had envisioned. I mean, look at how long it took for the Chantry we know to be established.”

What is one thing from your past that you would change?

“I would save Oren. As much as I hate saying it, saving my parents would change too much, but Oren. He was far too young.”

Are your parents proud of you, or would they be?

“I think so. When I said goodbye to my parents I think they believed that I would succeed as a Warden, but I don’t think they saw me becoming the Commander or Queen.”

Choices

Drink or food?

She gives an incredibly confused look, “What kind of question is that?”

Cats or dogs?

“I love all animals, but I am very Fereldan woman. I may or may not have an small army of mabaris in Denerim.”

Optimist or pessimist?

“I try to be an optimist. As Commander, I have to be. The Wardens under my command look to me, and I don’t want them to be scared. Though it can be hard sometimes. When I start to become more pessimistic, I focus on just the actions themselves.”

Sassy or Sarcastic?

“...Sarcastic?”

Have you ever

Been caught sneaking out?

“...yes. And no, I won’t be elaborating on that. I don’t think a certain person would appreciate it.”

Broken a bone?

“Yes, once when I was child. I was thrown from a horse. I broke my left arm. Then,” her face contorts in complete disgust, “when were dealing with the mess in Amaranthine, I broke some ribs. Those healed almost instantly thanks to Anders. It’s a shame he decided to leave, but I don’t hold it against him. The other Wardens are going to hate me for saying that.”

Received flowers?

“Look at my titles. Of course I have. The best however, was a single flower.” She gets a dreamy look as she continues to speak, “The first time Alistair really, really tried to flirt with me and tell me how he feels, he gave me this single rose. He had plucked it when we had stopped in Lothering. That moment when he had given it to me... Maker, it was easily the sweetest and cheesiest thing anyone had ever done for me. I am so happy to have him by my side.”

Ghosted someone?

“...No?”

Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

“Again. Look at the titles.”

[clairecrive]

“Let’s stay home”| Quarantine AU

As promised here chapter 5. I’ve made it long to apologize about posting it late. Again, I’m sorry. However, I hope you enjoy it. As always if you have any ideas or things you’d like to see happen, let me know! Next chapter, someone will make a cameo, who do you think will be?

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye, @mollybegger-blog, @of-love-and-of-the-sea, @br0ck-eddie, @fandom--0verdose, @evelynshelby, @shadow-of-wonder, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner (let me know if you wanna be added)

If you lost a chapter: Masterpost

Chapter 5 - “Concert”

"Oh my god, yes, yes, yes!" Her loud scream of enthusiasm was heard throughout the house alarming its guests.

"What? What's going on?!" Tommy ran out of his room out of concern regarding her screech, thinking the worst.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" Came Alfie's annoyed grunt as he got up from the chair he was sitting on with the help of his cane. Being cooped up in the house all day wasn't helping his sciatica at all.

But Emma didn't grace either of them with an answer. Instead, she simply jumped off her bed while calling her friend on Facetime, completely clueless of the worried men that were standing outside her room waiting to know what was going on.

Squirming on her feet, failing at staying still, Emma sported a huge smile on her face while she waited for her friend to connect. Half expecting to see Bane's face popping up on the screen, Alfie thought about leaving, not wanting to repeat the other day's situation but contrary to his expectation, a female face appeared on the screen. Adjusting his position against the door so that he was more comfortable, he now was genuinely curious. It was the first time that Emma talked with a female friend. He had even begun to think that she didn't have any.

"Jen, have you heard?" She excitedly asked her friend that seemed none the wiser.

"Emma, it's literally 8 am here. You're lucky I even answered you."

"Well then, I'm about to make your day ten times better. Check the message I've sent you on Telegram."

"Can't you just tell me?" Jen's tired voice complained

"That's not fun, I'm building the suspense." Emma firmly explained waiting for Jen to do as she said.

"What do you think is going on?" Tommy asked Alfie.

"I've no idea mate. No idea." Alfie simply said, scrolling his shoulders while not removing his eyes from Emma's form.

After a couple of seconds of silence, which saw Emma grinning like a fool and Tommy and Alfie simply standing there like some clueless bodyguards, Jen's squeal brought Emma's smile only to widen while Tommy and Alfie were startled, the former losing his balance while the latter lost his grip on his cane. What the hell...

"Thank all the gods in Olympus, they've blessed us!" Jen's face reappeared on the screen now mirroring Emma's expression.

"I'm so happy Jen, you've got no idea. I really thought they were just going to refund us."

"I told you, you had to be positive about this! You never listen to me, you pessimistic bitch." Jen sassed making Alfie's eyebrows shot up and Tommy's lips to pout.

"Can you, for the love of God, tell us what's going on?" Alfie's voice prevented Emma to respond, making her finally aware of their presence in her room.

"Oh, hello boys." She simply greeted him not understanding their worried stance. When they gave her an allusive look she finally explained with a big smile.

"Harry's concert got rescheduled."

"And that's what got ya screamin like a fucking banshee?" Alfie grumbled

"Other concerts have been simply cancelled and the tickets refunded. This way we still get to see him." Now fully facing them, she elaborated.

"Fucking hell." Alfie simply muttered under his breath leaving the room. She turned to Tommy but her confusion only grew.

"Next time I hear you screaming, you better be dying." He said before leaving as well.

As confused as ever, her face resembled the question mark which made Jen laugh.

"Ugh, men," Emma joked.

"While we're on the subject, how's the living together thing going?" Jen noisily asked wiggling her eyebrows making Emma know that she was here for the tea.

"It's going well actually. So far, at least. They've been surprisingly helpful so I'm not complaining."

"You're stuck with three handsome, mouth-watering men and that's all you're going to tell me?"

"I know they're attractive Jen but nothing is going to happen. We're friends."

"If I were you, I'd walk naked all the time and hide their clothes so that they'd also have to be naked all the time. You'll see how something will happen then." Jen shared her absurd plan topping it with a suggestive wink.

"You're missing Nik, eh?" Emma affirmed more than asked knowing very well that being away from her boyfriend was really taking its toll on Jennifer.

"You've no idea. This is going to be pretty tough, not going to lie. There's only so much we can do on video chat and of course, it's not like the real thing." Her friend complained, making it very clear why she was missing her boyfriend so much. If there was something that Jennifer wasn't, it's certainly being smooth. She's the kind of person that's very upfront about things, whatever they are.

"I can imagine." Was Emma's attempt at being sympathetic. Her relationship with sex was really different, however, she could understand Jen's problem. If she had a boyfriend whom she loved as much as Jen loved Nick, maybe she'd miss the connection that comes with sex too.

"I'm here, terribly horny and suffering for this quarantine and you're standing there surrounded by dicks and you won't take advantage of it!" Jennifer loudly complained, getting cruder and cruder and Emma couldn't help but scrunch her face in horror at her friend's choice of words.

"My god Jen, get a grip on yourself girl," Emma jokingly reprimanded her, " You should have come here when I invited you then."

"Unfortunately for me, I'm awfully loyal and Nick's dick is the only one that I want. But I know that you'd have been delighted by my presence, you don't have to pretend."

"Oh damn, you got me. My life is empty without you." Emma indulged her. It wasn't completely false, she did miss the girl a lot.

"I know, I know. Listen, babe, I've gotta go, Nick's calling me. I'll talk to you later and please, think about what I've told you, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, bye Jen." Emma willingly ignored her last statement and ended the call with a nostalgic smile.

Emma was fully aware of how unconventional most of her relationships were. She never really thought about them that way, it was always people's reaction to them that made her realize how strange to an outsider might look. But to be fair, however unorthodox her relationships may seem, they were all based on mutual respect and honesty. When people asked her if it was true that she and Tommy were just friends, Emma would always be puzzled by their astonishment. Yes, they had been together. So what? Some people work better as friends. And yes, Emma wasn't blind, Tommy was sexy af but while she could admit it without shame she would also be lying if she said that she thought of being with him. Been there, done that. It didn't work so she moved on. As did he, there was an understanding between them.

Alfie was a totally different thing.

They had started off as friends but both of them felt that there was more. That there could be more. And in fact, there was. They tried it out and it was working just fine until her job cut in and ruined everything. She had to leave. And neither of them were too sure of a long-distance relationship. Alfie respected her decision, he knew how important her job was for her, how ambitious she was. But breaking up was inevitable. And so they did.

However, since there really was mutual respect and affection between them, they kept in touch. Sure, it wasn't the same thing and both of them had had different partners in the meantime, but they always found their way back to each other.

So, when it came to them, friends was a reductive word but it was better than to explain their whole relationship to some stranger every time. They would better fit under the heading "it's complicated" but a global pandemic wasn't the right time to deal with this situation and finally label their relationship. Emma knew that that was why she was ignoring Alfie's jealous remarks and Jenn's proposal. Things were already difficult, neither of them needed them to be even more complicated.

Days went on like this then: Tommy and Alfie that would bicker from time to time, always because Alfie would provoke him in some way; Eddie would jump in and either fuel their discussion or would spend his time tormenting Emma. He was surprisingly helpful though. He would go out and go shopping for necessities claiming that it was impossible for him to get infected, he would help her clean up and take care of the house. As long as he lent a hand as he was doing, Emma wouldn't complain about him pestering her. Emma and Bane would still video call every other day to keep in touch but he was unexpectedly evasive when it came to his whereabouts.

Everything was going fine. Emma knew that she was one of those who had it good, that's why she couldn't find it in herself to complain about this whole situation. However, if she could speak freely, she'd have to admit that her mood was progressively getting worse. She tried to keep a routine to keep her busy but the truth was that she was finding it harder and harder to get out of bed and do things, with each passing day.

She still tried though. Because she had taken a commitment with the other guys and had chores to do, but also because of her job. And most importantly she didn't want anyone to know that she was feeling so blue. Emma was one of those people that prefer to deal with their problems by themselves and shy away from any kind of attention when they're going through something.

Up until this day, end of week two in lockdown, she had pulled it through. For whatever reason though, this day had hit her harder than any other. Maybe it was because of the article she was supposed to write. It was about self-love, how important it is and what are the different ways one could take care of themself quarantine edition. The topic wasn't weird perse, Emma wrote frequently about this kind of stuff, it was just that she felt like a scam writing it. How could she write about self-love and ways in which people could make themselves happy, especially in these difficult times, when she was the first one who was miserably failing in doing so?

Yes, it was definitely this the reason for her sulking.

She was lying on her bed facing the ceiling with her head dangling at the end of it trying to find a way around this article that she had to write. Caught up in her thoughts, she didn't realize that the door of her room was open and that anyone passing through could see.

"Em?" Tommy's voice anchored her to reality and made her eyes snap open. However, she remained in her weird position, not bothered to lift up nor to answering him.

"What are you doing?" He walked further into the room but didn't get too close to her.

"Thinking." Emma just mumbled, scooping a little further so that her head wasn't hanging anymore. Nodding, Tommy got close to her now, and lied down beside her but facing the other way.

The reason why Emma and Tommy had stayed friends after they had hooked up, was because before that night they had actually hung out a lot. Emma was writing a piece on the tournament he was taking part in, Sparta, and had heard about him and his brother. In order to actually write the article, Emma had to speak with both of them. She didn't expect to get along so well with both of them. Not that Tommy was that much of a talker when they first met. Only a few short answers here and there and the occasional joke. However, Emma knew a little of his backstory and had also the impression that there was more to him than met the eye. He was hurt. Emma had no doubt about that. And just like her, when he was hurt talking to people was the last thing she wanted.

After coming to that realisation, dealing with Tommy became easier. He gradually opened up to her, even if it was only a little, and they got along really well. In some way, they were alike. And once you've found a soul similar to yours you tend to keep it close.

With time Tommy had learnt to read Emma just like she did with him during their first time together and come to the understanding that when Emma closed off like this, she was hurting.

He didn't say anything. He just laid there, next to her. Held her hand letting her know that he was there for her but leaving her the time to open up if she wanted to that is.

"Right, what's goin on in here?" Alfie's voice startled them both but while Tommy rolled his eyes, a little annoyed by his interruption, Emma reluctantly smiled at his antics. Sometimes, she wondered why he was so amusing to her and then realized the warmth and comfort that he brought her along with his annoying ways.

Pushing her head so that she was looking at him upside down, she smiled when she saw him standing there with his hands on his hip like an angry lady.

"Could you please stop pouting and come here and cuddle with us?"

Everyone knew that Emma was an affectionate friend. But for her to be so outspoken about it and asking for affection? It was a red sign and Alfie recognized it. So stop pouting he did and made Tommy scoop so that he could lay on her other side, holding her hand.

Their sweet cuddling session would be short because Eddie would soon be coming back from the grocery store but they all enjoyed while it lasted. Sometimes, Emma realized, the best self-love tip was simply being surrounded by our loved ones.

[randomoranges]

Home is Where the Heart Is

hey hi hello do you like soft canon with hurt?

  the saga continues of étienne’s adventures in edmonton. had this idea since this summer. lol.

end october/beginning november 2020

Edward scans the crowd and tries to keep his nerves under control. He makes sure he isn’t too close to others, while still maintaining contact with the arrivals doors. Étienne should be arriving any moment now. In fact, his plane has landed, therefore, with every new batch of people who walk through the doors; Étienne could be one of them.

 He checks his phone for what is surely the fiftieth time in the past three minutes, but he finds no new messages other than the one from his boyfriend letting him know that “the bird has landed.” Edward fixes his mask and follows a person who walks out, thinking it might be Étienne, but it’s not.

 The reason he’s here started towards the beginning of the month of September. He’d been enjoying his video call with Étienne, something they did once every two days or so after he’d gone back home, when Étienne had grown quiet.

 “Were you serious?” He’d asked and Edward had wondered what exactly Étienne was alluding to, “When you said I could come over whenever – were you serious?” He’d reiterated.

 “Of course. Whenever you want. Hell, you could even be on the way to the airport at the moment. You could even already be in Edmonton.” He’d wondered if Étienne was concocting some trip and had dared to hope that he’d be seeing his boyfriend sooner rather than later.

 He’d meant it. Étienne could surprise him on his doorstep with little to no warning and he’d be happy to have him over.

 Summer had been – kind to Étienne, but not in its usual ways. It was a good thing it had been a hot summer, at least Étienne had been able to enjoy the outdoors, but – Edward had seen the toll of the pandemic on his boyfriend’s face. Had seen the dark circles that had made a comeback and had listened to the change in Étienne’s song from determined and hopeful to pessimistic and downtrodden.

 And of course, now things seemed to be getting worse again.

 Étienne was at wits ends.

 Étienne is at wits ends.

 “I don’t know what to do anymore, Ed,” He’d said. “Every time I go out – there’s a new place that’s closed down. How are the others going to make it? What’s going to be left of the city once this is all over? What’s going to be left of me? It’s like no one cares! Everything we did for naught! And then there’s those who say it’s a joke or a hoax. Yet I can’t even have my fucking sister over anymore – again. I can’t. I go grocery shopping and I fucking panic thinking maybe I’m going to infect someone, because what if it’s on me and I just don’t know because I can’t even fucking die properly.”

 He looked manic. Wild and scared and desperate.

 Edward had been – worried.

 Edward always worried. He always worries. He still worries. He worried by nature, but – he worried for Étienne in a different way.

 He knows of Étienne’s troubles – knows how his mood dips and changes and peeks and crests and falls straight through and he knows how personally he takes every single problem that afflicts the city, as though he’s responsible for the decision of millions.

 Edward had feared this – had feared that Étienne would spiral back out to how he’d been in April, but now he thinks he’d prefer the manic busy version of Étienne to this more lethargic and angry one.

 Edward had tried to be reassuring. Said that he’d be fine – he’d managed. It would be tough, yes, but – Étienne was like a phoenix, somehow found ways to rise again from the ashes. He’d reinvent himself if he needed to, but – Étienne hadn’t been so sure, still felt as though he hadn’t fully recovered from the original reinvention.

 Edward had fallen quiet to that.

 “D’you think I can come over again? For a bit. Maybe through to the New Year – I don’t know. I just – the weather’s gonna change for the worst again and – I don’t – I know how I am – in the winter – on a good year. I don’t think – I don’t trust myself going through winter alone during a pandemic.” He’d looked away from the screen after that admission. Had chewed on his bottom lip and had fisted his hands into Mercury’s fur.

 Edward’s heart had broken hearing those words. He’d wished he could find a way to enter Étienne’s head and right it once and for all. Fix whatever it was that made him feel this way day in and day out. No one deserved this, least of all Étienne.

 He consoled himself with the fact that Étienne was reaching out – that he was asking for help – that he wasn’t shutting himself further into his dark mood and dealing with it “on his own.” He’d seen how that ended up far too many times to want to live through it again.

 “Of course – like I said, you can come here whenever you want. I want you here.” Edward felt it was best to repeat these words as often as he could, in the hopes that Étienne would stop second-guessing himself over them.

 “I have work though. I have online classes, grading, and assignments to look over.” He’d said as though he was giving Edward reasons to tell him not to come and stay home in his infected hell hole.

 “That’s okay. I have work as well. We’ll make a schedule and work around it. I’ll clear out a desk for you that you can use. You can have the guestroom as your own study.”

 It was the logical thing to say. Whatever it was Étienne needed. It wasn’t complicated.

 “Are you sure?” Étienne had finally asked.

 “Of course, sweetheart. I’m always sure when it comes to you.”

 It was a little sappy, but – it was all very true.

 Étienne nodded at that, as if he couldn’t find the words to go with the action.

 “You realise though that it’ll be cold. It gets cold here earlier than it does at yours. And I mean negative weather and snow before Halloween.”

 Étienne had grimaced at that and Edward had laughed. The last thing he wanted was for Étienne to arrive in a windbreaker and then have an even worst time with the weather.

 “I don’t care. Summer’s over. It’s already getting cold. I just – I need to – I need to be around people – someone. I can’t take this anymore. I can’t.”

 Edward had read the panic in those green-brown eyes, had read the fear and the loneliness that threatened to swallow him whole and – Edward had needed a moment to still his own nerves. He hadn’t seen that look on Étienne’s face in far too long and it was one he’d hoped he’d never see again.

 “That’s fine. When will you be arriving?”

 “I don’t know – I’m still figuring out when I’ll leave. There’s still a few things I need to do here.”

 “Keep me posted?” Part of him feared Étienne would do something stupid between now and then, but he consoled and reminded himself that despite everything, Étienne was in a better place now and was being treated for this. This wasn’t like before.

 “Yeah. I’ll talk to you soon.”

 That had been that and now here he is, summer officially done and over, waiting for Étienne to arrive. They’d spoken late last night and Edward hadn’t liked the way his boyfriend had sounded. Out of it, was one way of describing it, but – it almost felt as though – as if Étienne was giving up. As if he’d lost his last shred of hope.

 He can’t let that happen.

 Étienne is too important for that.

 Therefore, Edward takes a deep breath, counts to ten and then twenty and finally fifty and focuses on the task at hand.  With Calvin now back in Calgary as well, he figures this will give him a proper chance to do some real damage control on Étienne.

 Despite everything, he still smiles and feels extremely excited when he finally spots both Étienne and Mercury making their way towards him. He sees Étienne pause and give a careful look around, but even with the masks, he can still tell that Étienne smiles when he sees him as well.

 Étienne picks up his pace and walks over to him and Edward meets him half way, opening his arms up so that Étienne can step into them.

 “Hi you,” He says and holds Étienne close to him. Étienne looks a little worse for wear, but if anything, his visit in April had prepared Edward for this and so the shock isn’t as big, even if the pang in his heart is just the same. He feels Mercury excitedly jump up on his leg and he marvels at how big she’s gotten since she’d last been here. He’ll greet her properly in a bit, but for now he holds onto Étienne and presses a masked kiss to the side of his face.

 “Eddy,” Étienne breathes into the crook of his neck and it feels as though Étienne’s just discharged some of the weight he’d been carrying on his shoulders since he’d gone back home. As if now that he’s here, he can let go a bit and give the reigns over to Edward to help him look after himself.

 It takes Edward a moment to realise that Étienne is shaking in his arms and he holds him closer still and rubs his back. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” He holds him for a moment longer, holds him until Étienne stops shaking and gets a hold of himself, holds him until Étienne straightens himself out and steps out of the embrace.

 “Missed you,” Étienne says as he picks the handle of his suitcase. Edward takes the moment to greet Mercury and she seems quite happy to see him as well. She still has growing to do, but she’s no longer the tiny puppy that had made the first trip out west at the start of spring.

 “Missed you more. Ready to go home?”

 Étienne nods and Edward laces their hands together as they make their way towards the truck.

 It’s a mostly silent walk and Étienne makes one comment about the weather, which makes Edward laugh. Étienne already looks like he’s dressed for winter and by the looks of the two suitcases he brought along, his entire winter wardrobe seems to be here with him as well.

 Edward takes the long walk to the truck, if only to give Mercury a chance to stretch her legs. They take off their masks after realising that they’d both kept them on out of habit and once they’re at the truck, Edward pulls Étienne for a much sought after kiss.

 “Missed you,” Edward reiterates as he caresses the sides of Étienne’s face. His boyfriend offers him a kind, if tired smile and Edward still thinks he’s one of the most beautiful people he’s ever met.

 “Missed you more,” Étienne parrots back, before he hugs him again. “Thanks again for – everything.”

 Edward gives his hand a squeeze and then opens the door for him.

  There’s hand-sanitizer in the truck they both use and Edward tries to keep the conversation going as he drives back home, but Étienne ends up falling asleep once more halfway through. He lets him, knowing Étienne never seems to get around the right amount of sleep and he lets Élyse know he’ll take good care of Étienne once they’re home.

 Mercury trots off to re-explore his house and so Edward helps Étienne with his luggage, helps him to the door and helps undress him afterwards, unpeeling each layer as they make their way towards Edward’s bedroom and they reacquaint themselves with one another with kisses and touches that make Étienne feel just a little bit more alive. It’s heady and messy and needy, but the end result is the same and Edward holds Étienne close as he cards his fingers through his hair with one hand, and traces lazy patterns on his arm with the other.

 Étienne seems a little more peaceful as he snuggles close and presses the occasional kiss to Edward’s chest. It’s as if – he feels safe here, in Edward’s arms and Edward hopes and wishes that he can always provide this solace for him.

 “Your hair’s gotten long,” He remarks as he holds up a perfect curl. He twines it around his finger before releasing it and watches with wonder as it springs back to its original form. Étienne’s hair had already been getting long during his last visit, but now that he could see his hair in person, Edward could really tell. It keeps flirting with Étienne’s shoulder and Edward thinks it’s a good look on him.

 “Yeah... never got around to booking a haircut when they reopened and then I kinda – I kinda like it actually. Thought I’d let it grow some and see what it looks like....” He’s careful with his answer, Edward can tell from the way he looks at him and then away. Étienne tucks a strand behind his ear out of reflex and Edward smiles softly.

 “It looks good. It suits you.”

 It really does. In all the years Edward has known him, he’s never seen Étienne with super long hair. Étienne had even been – sensitive about it and after Edward had found out why, he understood. This is a nice change, despite the reason behind it, and Edward hopes it means that if anything, Étienne is slowly making peace with that.

 “Yeah, you think so?”

 Edward nods. “Yeah, I really like it.”

 Étienne grins, a little quiet thing as he resettles against him, “I haven’t had it super long in – over forty years. Forgot how good it looked,” He says, normal like anything and Edward silently thrills.

 “It looks very good. I’m all for you experimenting with it and letting it grow.”

 Étienne offers him a smile for his compliment and Edward stores it for the days where it’ll be hard to get a smile out of his boyfriend. He’d like to think there won’t be any, but with the way things are going and with winter coming up, he knows better.

 “Hey, I have a surprise for you,” He says instead before they can get too comfortable. Étienne gives him a curious look and protests when Edward jostles him so that he can get out of bed and put his boxers back on. “Come on, you’ll like this.”

 “Preferred the view I had moments before.” Étienne says as he slowly makes a grab for his own clothes and underwear. Edward rolls his eyes, fond, amused, and ever so endeared, and then walks his boyfriend to the guestroom.

 “Jeez, Édouard, if you were already done with me, you could’ve just said and I woulda made my own exile back to the guestroom.” Étienne teases as Edward pushes the door to the guestroom until it’s fully open.

 “Humour me, Curly,” Edward says and leads him further into the room. “I set everything up for you; desk, chair, light. I cleared it off so you can put your laptop on it. I moved the printer here, in case you have things to print – and, this,” He moves to the side and that’s when Étienne notices the very large and suddenly very noticeable wooden easel that had not been previously there this past spring, “Is a little something I thought you would appreciate.”

 Étienne blinks and blinks again. There’s an easel – a beautiful wooden thing that he’d never ever seen before just standing there as if waiting to be used. He walks up to it, as if in a trance and dares to touch it to make sure it’s real.

 “I know you like to make your own canvases and stretchers, so if you need any materials or whatever, I’ll drive you to the store.”

 Étienne turns back to Edward, walks back to him and lunges into his awaiting arms, as if his boyfriend had been expecting such a reaction.

 “You didn’t have to,” Étienne says as he fights back the tears that threaten to fall. It’s all too much. He doesn’t deserve all of this – doesn’t deserve Edward’s kindness and yet Edward still offers it to him as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.

 “I wanted to.” Edward tells him and figures he can let him know he’d made it himself later, before Étienne has an apoplexy over it. “I want you to feel comfortable here. You’re not just a passing houseguest – you’re my boyfriend. This is the very least I can do for you.”

 Étienne pulls him in for a kiss before Edward can say anything else that might make his heart jump out of his ribcage. “I love you,” He blurts out when they pull away for air. It’s the least he can do and say and he knows Edward likes hearing it. (He does too, really, but right now if Edward tells him he might just cry over everything.) (He’s still getting used to this – to having someone show him love and kindness so openly.) (There are still days when he wonders if this isn’t all some massive fever drug induced dream.) (He’s honestly glad it isn’t.)

 “My dearest Étienne, I love you too, never doubt it,” Edward tells him, cups his face in his nice warm hands, and offers him the kindest of smiles. Looks at him as though he’s something precious and worthwhile and there’s something inside of Étienne – some old shriveled thing that lives where his heart once was that dares to beat again.

 And Edward holds Étienne close, holds him again and then gently leads him back towards his bedroom so that they can lie together. He lets Étienne slowly come apart in his arms, rubs his back and twines their legs together and makes the silent promise that he’ll watch over Étienne and do his best so that Étienne doesn’t fall off the deep end again. He hopes and dares that despite everything, that winter will be kind to the both of them, but Edward knows that if anything, at least, they’ll be together.

 FIN

[deputyrhiannonhale]

OC INTERVIEW

Tagged by @returnofthepd3 thanks hun this was hella fun!!

Interview with Deputy Rhiannon Hale

Name: Rhiannon Hale, but pretty much everyone calls me Rhi....not sure who called me Rhiannon last *chuckles*

Are you single: No...it's, um, definitely complicated.

Are you happy: *chuckles nervously* On the surface......sure.

Are you angry: At this very moment? No. Do I get triggered easily...yeah. I do hold a lot of resentment from my childhood...of people who had a nice childhood....

Are your parents still married: *scoffs* My "parents" are dead...if you wanna call them parents. I miss my biological father though....

Nine Facts

Birthplace: Billings, Montana

Hair color: Light Brunette

Eye color: Hazel

Birth date: October 30, 1988

Mood: For the most part, I'm pessimistic. But I do still have that naivete of maybe if i make everyone happy, they'll love me...

Morning or afternoon: Afternoon, right as the sun is beginning to set. Also....I HATE mornings, so there's that *laughs*

Summer or winter: Neither, to be honest, I'm an autumn person, I love that crisp air!! And all the colors!

Gender: Last time I checked, I'm female, yo!

Eight things about your love life

Are you in love: Sure, but I won't admit it out loud to him *laughs hard*

Do you believe in love at first sight: HELL NO, I'm not even sure if I believe in true love to be honest, verdict is still out on that one!

Who ended your last relationship: I definitely did. He started getting way to serious and I panicked and ran.

Have you ever broken someones heart: Possibly....since, you know, the commitment thing

Are you afraid of commitment: I'm afraid of losing myself in that commitment is more like it. After watching the way my mother obsessed over my step-douche and how she went from a loving mother to not giving a shit about her own daughter? If that's love, that's much too high a cost for me.

Have you hugged someone in the last week: My uncle, Earl Whitehorse, and Addie!

Have you ever broken your own heart: Numerous times....

Six Choices

Love or Lust: *chuckles* Probably lust...still new to the thought of actual "love:

Lemonade or Iced Tea: Hmmmm....probably sweet tea, have you tried the stuff? It's the bomb if done right!!

Cats or Dogs: *taps chin with index finger* Bears, I fucking LOVE Cheeseburger! *whispers* but really, I love all animals!

A few Best friends or Regular Friends: Definitely a few best friends, only people I trust with my life!

Wild night out or romantic night in: I'd much rather stay in, I get too uncomfortable around too many people, especially if they're being boisterous.

Day or night: Night. It's much more calm!

Five Have You Evers

Been caught sneaking out: *snorts* my mother nor step ass cared enough about me to even check if I was still in the house.

Fallen Down/Up the Stairs: Yes, I'm clumsy as shit

Wanted someone/something so badly it hurt: That seems like a very human thing, so yes I have wanted someone or soemthing that badly

Wanted to disappear: Yes...but only to see if anyone would care...damn sorry that got deep...

Four preferences

Smile or eyes: Definitely eyes...they'll let you know if someone is lying to you....

Shorter or taller: Everyone is taller than me I think *laughs* I'm 5'1 on a good day

Intelligence or Attraction: I want someone who I can have fun with? So I guess I'm more of a personality type person...

Hook up or Relationship: *blushes slightly* I'm currently having...two hook ups, so...yeah *laughs*

Family

Do you and your family get along: Me and Whitehorse, definitely! My chosen family of Addie and Hurk Jr, hell yeah!

Would you say you have a messed up life: Hell yeah...I was neglected...my biological father was killed in a robbery gone wrong...my step brother ended up killing our parents and then himself...yeah pretty fucked up in my opinion...

Have you ever ran away from home: I wanted too, but I couldnt leave my step brother Deeter alone with his abusive father. We always had each others backs...I miss him.

Have you ever got kicked out: Yeah, I suppose, but not for misbehaving....just my fucking mother didnt wanna deal with me in the summer, so when I got my license to drive. She started making me visit my uncle in Hope County. I hated it at first, but now I would never have changed it! It's how I met Johanna, Addie, Hurk Jr and eventually Sharky!

Friends

Do you secretly hate one of your friends: *laughs and considers it* Hate is a strong word...I guess I dislike how upbeat Hurk Jr is first thing in the morning. Sorry Hurk...

Do you consider all of your friends good friends: No, only a handful know the deepest things about me...

Who is your best friend: Hmmmm...that's a tough one. It's a tie between Johanna and Addie!

Who knows everything about you: Adelaide definitely *laughs*

Tagging: @thosetwistedtales @yancy-trash @f0xyboxes @ramadiiiisme and anyone else who wants to join!!

@hopecountygazette

[foxespsu]

01 / BASICS

Full Name: Parker Elena Sinclair

Nicknames: Pikachu (from Charlie, who she would call Charmander), Parks (while she was racing, an unfortunate side effect of driving cars while named Parker), Baby Sinclair (although she’s hoping that won’t catch on)

Birthday: August 3rd

Gender: Cis Female (she/her)

Orientation: Lesbian

Astrological Sign: Leo sun, Leo moon

Languages: English, American Sign Language

Birthplace: Hartford, Connecticut

Relationship Status: Single………….ladies ;)

02 / PHYSICAL TRAITS

Hair Color/Style: Brown, wavy, usually messy. Sometimes she’ll throw it into a ponytail or braid it. It’s long, but mostly because she’s far too lazy to regularly cut it.

Eye Color: Brown

Face Claim: Fivel Stewart

Height: 5′2

Tattoos: Yes. One professionally done half sleeve, back from when she was racing and had the money (and the fake ID). Of course, not having the money for a nice artist didn’t stop her before or since. She also has a stick and poke heart on her wrist, the check engine symbol on her ankle, Pikachu on the arm without a sleeve, and the word what? tattooed behind one of her ears. Parker hasn’t done these herself, but she’s found plenty of people willing to help, particularly with the crowd she hangs with.

Piercings: Nose piercing, scar on her eyebrow from an eyebrow piercing that rejected.

Unique Attributes: Various scars on her hands from all the times she’s cut or scraped herself working on an engine. Her hands are also often stained with grease, even here in Palmetto.

03 / PERSONALITY TRAITS/TYPES

Positive Traits: Adventurous, energetic, passionate, resourceful.

Negative Traits: Selfish, impulsive, argumentative, escapist.

Hobbies/Interests: Cars!! Road trips, driving too fast, fixing cars, judging other people’s cars; Parker does it all. She’s also been known drink too much, talk too loudly, and enjoy general debauchery. Especially if she can find a way to do it on someone else’s dime.

Major/Minor: Undecided. She really wanted to put mechanical engineering, but she also didn’t want to fail out of school—it’s shocking enough that she’s even here.

Insecurities: None, assuming you’ve asked Parker directly and you believe that lie. In reality—that she isn’t good enough or smart enough for this school (or any), that she’ll never be satisfied, that she’ll always feel angry, feel bitter, feel like there’s something missing both within her and in her life, that she’s going to push her family away because of it, that one day she’s going to realize what she actually wants and she won’t be enough for it, that one day she’ll realize there’s nothing she actually wants and her whole life will feel like this, just one endless chase for an adrenaline rush that never lasts.

Quirks/Eccentricities: Talks too fast, too loud. Loves to teach people “signs” that are wrong and embarrassing. Turns off her hearing aids if she doesn’t want to listen to something you’re saying. Always in motion, always moving on to the next thing. Most of her clothes have rips and tears.

MBTI Type: ESFP, “the Entertainer”. Bold, original, prone to showmanship. Unfocused, easily bored, lack the ability to plan for the long-term.

Enneagram Type: Type 7, “the Enthusiast”. At their best they are joyful, ecstatic, spontaneous, and productive. At their worst, type 7s are impulsive, (self) destructive, hedonistic, and erratic.

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Temperament: Sanguine

04 / FAMILY & HOME

Immediate Family: Elena Sinclair (mother). Eric Sinclair (father). Charlie Sinclair (older brother).

How do they feel about their family?: Parker loves her family. She just doesn’t think of them as much as she should. She feels guilty about all they’ve given up for her, of course she does, but sometimes she thinks it was their bad decision in the first place. Shouldn’t anyone be able to look at Parker and see she’s going nowhere as fast as she can? And as appreciative as she is for all Charlie’s done for her, she doesn’t know how to handle being his little sister all over again, especially not when she’s done a hell of a lot more than he has now. They’re back in the same place again, but Parker can handle herself—and if she can’t, then that’s her problem, isn’t it? Not his.  

How does their family feel about them?: Disappointment. Frustration. Tentative hope. Love, obviously, underneath it all. To her parents, it seems as though she gave up on her future and the family all at once when she started racing. Her parents almost didn’t let her go to college this year, too afraid of what would happen when she left their immediate line of sight for too long again, but her father wanted to trust her one last time. As far as they could tell, she was calmer, her senior year of high school. Ever since she picked up a racquet again, they’ve hoped it would be enough of an outlet for Parker. After all, teenagers make mistakes. Maybe she’s finally learned from hers. With Charlie, it’s even more complicated. More than anyone, he’s given things up for Parker: his childhood, his savings, and now, this team. Parker may not want to acknowledge it, but their relationship is more strained now than its ever been, and it isn’t Charlie’s fault.

Pets: Two rats, carefully hidden in her closet whenever someone with authority comes by —Daphne and Velma.

Where do they live?: Hartford, CT.

Description of their home: Owning their own home is a pipe dream in the Sinclair family, but at least they were able to move into a three bedroom apartment before Charlie and Parker lost it entirely in their shared room. It’s very small and thus gets messy easily, but it’s home.

Description of their bedroom: Parker doesn’t own too much. As a child, her dream was to always be on the road, and she lived like it even before that was ever a possibility. Of course, as soon as she actually had the money she realized how fun materialism can be. Most of the things she’d purchased for herself with the money from racing were sold off once her parents discovered the truth though, part as a punishment, part in order to survive the hefty fine. She never had much of a decorative flair, but she does like to hang posters and lights. Dim rooms make it all that much harder to understand people and she gets annoyed too easily to deal with that in her own space.

05 / THIS OR THAT

Introvert or extrovert? Extrovert.

Optimist or pessimist? Optimist.

Leader or Follower? Don’t follow her but don’t ask her to follow you either.

Confident or Self-Conscious? Confident.

Cautious or Careless? Careless.

Passionate or Apathetic? Passionate, but mostly about the wrong things.

Book Smarts or Street Smarts? Street smarts.

Compliments or Insults? Depends on what she’s thinking.

06 / FAVORITES

Favorite Color: Red

Favorite Clothing Style/Outfit: Baggy pants, flannels, beanies, grease-stained tee shirts, ripped jeans, rolled up sleeves, sneakers that have seen better days.

Favorite Bands/Songs/Type of Music: She doesn’t listen to much music, even with her hearing aids. If she is going to put on a song on, she prefers it with as much bass as possible and turned up loud enough that she can feel that bass.

Favorite Movies: Parker loves movies with explosions, cheesy one-liners, and ridiculous endings. She also, of course, enjoys the Fast and the Furious franchise.

Favorite TV Shows: Parker used to love the Pokemon TV series as a kid, especially since she and Charlie always found a way to watch it together, whether that meant going to a friends house, borrowing the DVDs from the library, or hanging around someone’s lobby for too long. Even if the captions weren’t turned on, the show as easy enough to follow. These days, she loves a good Netflix marathon.

Favorite Books: Reading is for nerds like her brother, obviously. All jokes aside, reading is still difficult for Parker. She fell behind in 5th grade and feels like she’s never quite managed to catch up.

Favorite Foods/Drinks: Spicy foods, hard liquor, a burger with fries, anything she can grab and go.

Favorite Sports/Sports Teams: Well, she’s a Fox now, so they’ve got to be the best. Whether or not they actually win, it’s all about the attitude.

Favorite Time of Day: Night time. Morning only if it’s because she’s stayed out all night.

Favorite Weather/Season: Summer.

Favorite Animal: Rats

[alrightinbed-betterwithapen]

Clever Little Things — Part One — David Dobrik x Reader

A/N: hey guys so this one’s based off an awesome ask! I’m writing my asks a little slower at this time (and taking sometime away from Datalie until inspo comes back) to ensure better quality. I’m also turning this one into a series. Lemme know if you have any ideas of where you want this story to go. Anywho, thanks for taking the time to read, love ya!!

Masterlist

Summary: You don’t like David, and he plans on changing that.

Anon Asked: Hey !! Love you're writing, nobody ever does my requests so hopefully u can break that pattern :-), can u do a david x reader where it's an enemies to lovers sort of thing, where he's really charming and smug to her and like a huge flirt and she kinda just rolls her eyes and tells him to fuck off (maybe it could be a series??) Thanks !!

——

David fucking Dobrik.

Fuck that guy.

Yeah, you said it. Repeatedly and sometimes out loud. You couldn’t give a fuck about YouTube’s resident golden boy. You have lived in California far too long to be impressed with young, ridiculously wealthy men and their expensive cars. David seemed like a guy who fell face first into a vat of luck and wore humbleness like a cloak, hiding who he was underneath.

You were bound to run into him around Hollywood, your job as a freelance editor had you working with a ton of people in the industry he dominated. You had once preferred working in TV and film, but when a girl named Gabbie reached out to you, getting your info from a colleague, you were yanked into the YouTube world. Gabbie loved your work and had given your name out to all her influencer friends. The calls came rolling in.

Hey, it was a paycheck. These viral sensations actually made bank, and you were getting a more steady source of income from them than you did at any other job you’d worked in the city of angels. It even led to a pretty long contract job at a decent media group. Where you had to attend events and mingle and really learn about the world you were working in. It was mostly good.

But David, he fucking annoyed you. Whether it was hanging all over Instagram models for clout, or holding up the entrance line at a club to take paparazzi around his car, laughing and playing it up to an extreme, he fucking irked you. You had made the mistake of following him on Snapchat, one of his stories accidentally rolling over from a friends; he had two bleach blondes screaming about merch and then the camera flips around to his smug face telling you to swipe up. Yeah. Fucking. Right.

In your mind there were the Paul’s, Ricegum and David Dobrik: the premier fuckboys of YouTube.

So, there is no way you’re actually going to call Jason Nash about becoming his steady editor. You tell Gabbie as much over coffee.

“But, it’s a job, like long term and well paying... and he asked me about editors I knew the last time I saw him. Plus, if you last for a while, you can put that shit on your resume. And he’s great, like the coolest, chillest dude ever,” she’s explaining, trying to win you over. She had told you all about his kids and ex wife, how stressed he was. And that he could pay big money because he was racking in the revenue from his relationship with Trisha Paytas. Still, working for one of the vlog squad basically meant working for David, and you weren’t interested in that at all.

“Yeah, no. I’m sure he is, but the vlog squad? C’mon. Why would I do that to myself when you noped the fuck outta that mess years ago,” you tell her, sipping on your latte.

“Because I’m not an editor, (Y/N). It’s not like you have to hang out with them. You just hang around Jason and edit his shit. It’s not that complicated,” Gabbie says, looking at you like you’re dumb. You roll your eyes at her.

“Maybe I don’t want to be associated with David Dobrik and his loyal servants when their party comes crashing to the ground. You know it’s coming. He’s the next Shane Dawson expose for sure,” you ramble, “Like, Dobrik is the next Jake Paul. At least that’s what I get from his Snapchat’s, does he do anything but try to sell his shitty hoodies? And prank people until they cry?”

“Yeah. He gives people cars all the time.”

“PR move!” You yell, a little too loudly for nine in the morning at a coffee shop. Gabbie jumps a little and brings her hand to her mouth, shushing you. Ignoring her, you continue, “Yeah, it’s sooo genuine, Gabs. ‘Hey guys, I sent my friend to the hospital last week for a poorly thought out, unfunny stunt. This week I’m buying my assistant a car! No motive, no PR team screaming at me from the sidelines. Nope, I’m just a super awesome, humble guy who appreciates the people who obediently follow me around like a puppy so I can make content that’ll have 16 year olds everywhere buying my shitty merch!’ Gimme a break.”

“Holy fuck, I know you’re a cynic, but you have gone full pessimist lately,” Gabbie laughs at your impression, shaking her head. “They aren’t bad people, (Y/N). David isn’t either, he’s just young and rich and a little dumb. And Jason is probably the most down to earth one of them. Just think about it.”

“Ugh, fine. Fine, just no more talk about it. How’s your book coming?”

You change the subject, firm that the phone number she programmed into your phone will never get any use.

——

Then Defy Media goes under and Clevver, the main source of your rent lately, is done. You are out a decent paying job and next months check, you are royally fucked. Staring at the number in your phone, bent over on your couch, your thumb hovers.

You need the job. You want work, being at home with nothing to do all day makes you stir crazy. But all your points listed out about this still stand.

Fuck it.

You type out a quick message to Jason about Gabbie and his need for an editor with a link to your reel. You press send before you can talk yourself out of it. Then, it’s a waiting game. You’re scouring the internet for job postings when you get a message in return.

Hey! I’m so glad you hit me up. I desperately need help and would love to have you as my editor. Your reel is great! Can you meet for coffee in like 2 hours? I’m behind already and we can talk logistics.

You’re shocked. He must be desperate if he’s hiring you sight unseen and already getting you to work. But it’s a saving grace and more than you could of wished for. You’ll get a paycheck sooner and not have to worry about eviction. You let him know that’s fine and arrange a place.

The meeting goes well, Jason is a cool dude who doesn’t seem as wound up as your usual content creators were. You agreed on a wage (like 35% higher than your last gig, fuck yeah) and got to understand Jason’s edit style and post dates.

What didn’t shock you about the job, but you were hoping you could circumvent, was that you would be working closely with Trisha and David, as Jason often traded footage with both of them. And unlike Jason, they both edited their own vlogs because they had either, fewer responsibilities in their lives (Trisha), or were anal about their edit and wanted to do them personally (David). Great, great, great.

A jobs, a job though. You’ve survived working with some shitty people in your time and honestly didn’t think you’d have any problem on your hands.

——

There are problems though.

Yeah... there are a couple.

——

The first is Trisha. Well, she wasn’t a huge problem, but an obstacle. She was super insecure (you knew this going in) and the first time she came over to Jason’s and you were chilling on the couch, finishing up a vlog, things got tense. She knew you were hired, but she hadn’t met you before. You’d introduced yourself and shook the woman’s hands, wearing your usual editor getup of jeans and a giant hoodie, no makeup, hair not really done up but presentable enough for the public and giant headphones, to tune out the world around you.

You think that helped you because Trisha made a comment about how you were at least not trying to look good for Jason. You laughed at that, and looked her straight in the eyes with meaning behind them, and maybe a little intimidating,

“You couldn’t pay me into retirement to sleep with Jason.”

She’s taken a back for a second and you both look over to the man. You say no offense softly as the man shrugs, but don’t apologize or try to take it back. Trisha just snorts and says she likes you, claws retracting and a calmness returning to the room. Jason looks like a bomb’s been defused and ever grateful for you.

Bullet dodged... hopefully.

——

The next problem is David...

He’s actually the rest of the problems you have with your new job.

See, Trisha got over her bullshit pretty quickly and began texting you once a week for specific footage with Jason. She would describe them well and stay on the phone while you found and verified the clip, and then you’d send them to her. No muss, no fuss. She was an editor’s literal dream.

But, David fucking Dobrik was a nightmare.

Constantly texting you about clips from things that weren’t recorded, but he’s “sure they were because Jason was holding his camera like it was recording”, or waking you up in the middle of night to make sure you weren’t using a certain song for a montage or outro because he was going to use it in the next week.

And that was besides the ridiculous amount of times David was reminding you not to post certain things that were gonna premiere on his channel first. Like, yes, it’s fine to tell you. If it makes David feel better that you’re hearing it from him and not Jason, FINE. But to text you every post day, over a dozen times? It was a fucking joke and has been going on through week four of your new job. And you’d had enough. You’d mentioned it to Jason, but he’d just shrugged it off as David being David.

Well, fuck David.

You’d never even met the man in person at this point in time, but he was living up to every one of your terrible expectations. That’s when the 14th text comes in, as you’re exporting Jason’s latest vlog and just leaning back to relax on the older mans couch. That’s also when you snap, hitting the call button on the text and calling the douchebag.

“Hello? (Y/N)? Why are you callin-,” he starts after a few seconds of waiting for it to connect.

“Hey David! Nice talking to you finally and not just reading your utterly demeaning and demanding text messages!” You start in, just letting loose all the irritation he’s caused you over the last month. “Super appreciate the literally DOZENS of messages you leave me on post day, not to mention in the middle of the god damn night the rest of the week. I’m glad you understand what an invalid I am and how the constant texts actually do help me! It’s absolutely not a slight to my four year education and years of experience in my profession. Or the fact that I do heed your words the FIRST time I hear them, because it’s my literal job. A job I have that actually doesn’t revolve around you. Crazy, I know!” Your voice is just dripping with sarcasm at this point. In your brief pause you can hear a soft, amused breath from his end of the call. It doesn’t stop you at all.

“Anyway, I just wanted to call and let you know how productive you’re making me, and thank you! I really don’t know how I would function in my chosen career without your undying, unrelenting, un-asked for guidance. Hope the vlog that just posted meets your standards! Leave a comment if it doesn’t. Just please, please don’t text me about it.”

And you’re slamming the end button before he can respond. You look up and Jason is standing in the entrance way to his living room, jaw dropped. And all he can say after lifting it off the ground is,

“I didn’t know he was texting you in the middle of the night! Yeah... fuck him.”

You’re glad this ends with you both laughing and not you being fired.

——

“Your editor’s got some mega fucking attitude, dude,” is the first thing David says to Jason, picking him up in the Tesla the next day. Jason just starts cackling at that.

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t text her in the middle of the night. Most people’s work schedule doesn’t extend to 3am, Dave. And I thought she had quite a few points. Like, she works for me. And she does in fact know how to skillfully edit my shitty vlogs,” Jason’s laughing this out and is glad to find David just as amused.

“I wasn’t expecting to get ripped a new asshole is all. I was in an Uber to some event and Natalie heard the whole thing,” David replied, kinda sheepishly.

“You’re just butt hurt that there’s someone in this world that doesn’t give a fuck who you are and is willing to talk shit to your face. And that now Natalie and I know someone put you in your place,” the older man retorts, pointing at him accusingly before going on, “I’m not reprimanding her for having enough of you. She’s doing great AND Trisha likes her. Fuck off dude. Just text her less.”

“What do you mean she doesn’t give a fuck who I am?” Of course this is the part of what Jason was saying that David focuses on.

Shaking his head, he explains, “Well, she knows who you are and is absolutely comfortable enough to basically call you a dick within the first month of being my editor. Also, Gabbie told me the first time we talked about her that (Y/N) hates working for the bigger creators on the platform, and that she thinks they’re all materialistic and out of touch assholes. So, you know, I thought she would be a perfect fit for me. I’m basically nobody. But you? There’s no love lost there from the beginning, but she’s obviously professional enough to keep from snapping on your ass for like a month. I don’t know, Dave. What? You want me to force her to care who you are?”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I guess I just figured-“

“Sorry, dude. Not everyone loves our golden boy. But she’s not a mean person. She’s never even mentioned it. This is what Gabs told me forever ago. Either way, she doesn’t have to be blown over by you to be my editor. Right?”

“No, yeah, right. I guess I didn’t think I was bothering her. I’d always hit you up the same amount.”

“Yeah, but we’re friends. She works for me. It’s different,” Jason’s explaining as David nods along, eyes on the road, thinking.

(Y/N) doesn’t like him? Everyone likes him! YouTube world or not, David was charming as shit. It perplexed him, stirring uneasiness in his chest. This was just going to be a challenge in his eyes now.

She doesn’t like him? That’s fine. She will though.

David guar-an-fucking-tees it.

——

David Dobrik sends you an apology Edible Arrangement. The good kind, all chocolate covered fruit.

There’s a card attached that says,

Jason’s last vlog def met my standards, so you obvy don’t need my help. I’ll stop being such a dick.

(See? I didn’t text you.)

-D

It makes you laugh fucking hard.

You find it a little endearing but also, yeah, you deserve an unhealthy Edible Arrangement. He probably has a contact at the fruit company for appeasing all the people he steps on to run his empire. You’re not special, but the thought is at least there. Whatever. He had stopped bombarding you with texts and had been much more polite in general, so you were more than fine with the whole situation now.

You had hoped this was the end of it.

——

It wasn’t.

——

[ryopangari-mateus]

Random questions.

(Since I am super bored and no one actually asks me questions I have went ahead and filled them all out.) 001. When is their birthday? 3rd Sun of the 6th Astral Moon 002. Do they do anything to celebrate their birthday? Not normally. 003. Does your character like coffee better, or tea? Tea 004. Do they prefer being alone or with others? It really depends on the moment. Ryo likes her privacy and does not like huge crowds. She does like spending time with her loved ones. 005. Are they in good health? Yes 006. What sense do they most rely on? Sight/smell 007. Is your character an optimist or a pessimist? Depends on the situation. 008. What is their favorite fairy tale? N/a 009. Do they believe in happy endings? Not really 010. Do they believe in love at first sight? Not in the normal aspect. She believes that there is a connection between souls, not always pertaining to love. Even with that connection, love is something that requires work. 011. How would your character court the person of their dreams? She already has the person of her dreams… though their start was not "fairytale" material. 012. What makes your character embarrassed? Compliments, messing up (which happens quite a bit) 013. Have they ever been bullied or teased? Yes 014. Detail one secret shame your character feels. Allowing the tribe to influence her thoughts on others for so long. 015. Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue? Tongue.. Until that no longer works. 016. What is their choice of weapon? Red mage Rapier or white mage staff 017. When does your character think that violence is justified or deserved? Depends on the situation. 018. Your character wakes up to find that war has been declared. What do they do? "Ah shit.. Again? So much for my quiet day." -Gets out of bed with a sigh and gets to work- 019. If they could have a superpower, what would they choose? Isn't Hydaelyn's blessing and the echo enough? Okay.. If she had to pick something else it would be the ability to read minds. 020. What are their hobbies? Painting, crafting 021. How do they display affection? Hugs and dotes. 022. What is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen? The sky in Churning Mists both during a thunderstorm or a clear night. Sunrise from her home. 023. What do they consider beautiful in others physically? Ryo does not normally focus on the outer beauty because it can be very deceiving. 024. What do they consider ugly in others physically? See above answer 025. What do they consider beautiful in others personality-wise? Kind, willingness to help others, and bravery. 026. What do they consider ugly in others personality-wise? Deceit and lies 027. What is their idea of perfect happiness? (Alone)Curled up with a book or painting with music in the background. (With others) Spending time with her loved ones. 028. What makes them laugh out loud? A lot of things. Most often is the craziness of her FC. 029. What sort of sense of humor does your character have? Ryo can find humor in a lot of things. Her sense of humor ranges from dark and light airy, even the occasional inappropriate joke. 030. Do they believe in the afterlife? Yes 031. Are they superstitious about anything? Not anything specific. 032. Does your character believe in ghosts? Of course, she's seen them before. 033. Do they keep their promises? Yes 034. What’s their view of lying? Absolutely despises it.. She hates being lied to. However on the flip side of that she can also see the benefits of having to lie sometimes. 035. What is the most important rule your character lives by? Always do what you say you are going to.. 036. How honorable is your character? For the most part she is pretty honorable. 037. If your character saw someone drop a large sum of money and knew that they could probably take it without anyone noticing, what would they do? There was a time when she would have THOUGHT about keeping it… Now Ryo makes a pretty decent living from her paintings and adventuring on the side. 038. What bad habits do they have? 039. What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person? Exploiting someone for your own gain. 040. What is their obsession? Plushies. 041. Are they comfortable with technology? Yes 042. What is their greatest achievement? Not sure. 043. What will they stand up for? Ryo stands up for those who need it. 044. What disgusts them? See above answers. 045. Does your character have any chronic medical conditions? No 046. How do they handle getting sick? Ryo usually does not show that she is sick. If she gets sick she normally powers through it… That is until she pushes herself too far and gets even more sick. She then becomes a sick child who wants nothing more than to be held and to sleep. 047. What was the last medical problem your character had? N/a 048. Do they have any allergies? No. 049. How does your character feel about growing old? She is indifferent. 050. How does your character feel about their own mortality? Ryo doesn't really think about it. She knows that on every mission that she goes on it is something that can happen but she doesn't dwell on it. 051. If they knew they would die tomorrow, what would they do today? Ryo isn't one who would do crazy things. She would spend a quiet day at home surrounded by those that she loved. 052. What is your character’s worst flaw? Ryo appears very standoffish. Because of that some people feel that they have a hard time approaching her. 053. What is your character’s greatest strength? Not to sound cliche, but her greatest strength her friends and family. Because Ryo has issues making new contacts those bonds that she has established are strong 054. Does your character want power or authority of any kind? No. 055. Is your character an introvert or an extrovert? Introvert.. Ryo tries being more sociable but usually ends up wishing that she were home with a good book. 056. Has your character ever struck someone in anger? Yes. 057. Has your character ever killed anyone? Uhhh….. 058. What is your character’s idea of a perfect day? See above (question 27) 059. List several phrases your character is fond of uttering. Where did they pick them up? "Wait what?" "The things I'd do for a refresh." 060. What is your character’s attitude toward education and learning? Learning is lifelong. It doesn't just stop once your education is done. 061. Does your character prefer adventure or safety and security? A little bit of both. 062. What sort of legacy does your character wish to leave behind? Ryo does not seek to leave a legacy. 063. How well does your character handle difficult people? Avoids them if possible. If not possible she confronts them. 064. In what ways does your character annoy others? Not sure. 065. Is your character better at leading or following? Which do they prefer? When in a group Ryo will usually let someone else lead. That's not to say that if she does not agree with them that she won't speak up. 066. Does your character prefer city life or being out in nature? Out in nature. 067. Does your character believe in fate or destiny? No. 068. How strong is your character’s sense of responsibility? What kinds of things trigger it? 069. What about your character is heroic? Ryo enjoys helping out other people. 070. What about your character is cowardly? While she doesn't normally let it stop her, she is always thinking of ways that things can go wrong. 071. How kind is your character? Very, though she doesn't always look it. 072. In a Dungeons & Dragons game, which class would your character be? (wizard, fighter, bard, priest, ranger, etc.) Druid or sorcerer 073. In a novel, what plot role would your character fill? (hero, anti-hero, sidekick, villain, etc.) Hmmm…. Not sure. 074. What is your character’s favorite game? N/a 075. Is your character ticklish? Yes 076. How do they express anger? Ryo has trouble hiding her anger.. It shows on her face. As for how she expresses it that depends on the situation. 077. How often do they cry? Over what? Not very often. 078. How emotionally stable is your character? Normally pretty stable. 079. How easy is it for them to read the emotions of others? Easy. 080. How easy is it for others to read your character’s emotions? Depends on the emotion. Sometimes people misread her. 081. Is your character religious? No. 082. What are your character’s sleeping preferences? On her side or her back. Cooler room, blanket on. 083. What is the first thing they say and/or do when they wake up? Nothing specific. 084. Describe your character in one word. Helpful 085. Describe your character in three words. Sometimes too helpful 086. How would your character describe themself in one word? Complicated. 087. How would your character describe themself in three words? 088. Is your character quiet or loud? Quiet normally 089. How vocally expressive is your character? Depends on the situation 090. How bodily expressive is your character? She is pretty expressive. She talks with her hands, and has trouble hiding her emotions as it normally shows in her expression or movements. 091. What type of music does your character like? She will listen to anything atleast once. She doesnt have a favorite genre. 092. What emotion does your character evoke in others? She hopes that she evokes joy. 093. What is your character’s goal in life? To live a good life and find something beautiful in everyday. 094. Name three things most would not expect your character to be able to know. Not sure. If i think of something ill come back to this. 095. Name three things most would not expect your character to be able to do. Same as above. 096. How do they move and carry themselves? What energy do they project? Ryo is normally a ball of energy, especially when she is around her family and friends. 097. How well do they adapt to change? Not very well. 098. Does your character like animals? Absolutely. 099. Do they talk to inanimate objects? Occasionally 100. Does your character dream? If so, what do they dream about? Ryo either does not dream or does not remember her dreams. If she remembers anything at all it is usually the energy or feelings from her dreams.

[poppytheorist]

Scary Mask

I.

I don’t know what to say when people come apart

The road is long, the road is dark

And these are just the words to somebody else’s song

 Before I get into it, I’d like to quickly note that this is not best post to start with. Same goes for the one on “Me Laughing.” My older posts are much friendlier reads and not nearly as dense.

Okay, let’s go.

At first I thought “Scary Mask” was straightforward, i.e. Poppy uses her persona (“I wear my scary mask”) as a defense when she finds herself in uncomfortable situations (“when I’m afraid I don’t belong”). “Well that was anticlimactic.” Indeed. But, of course, this is Poppy we are talking about, and nothing with Poppy is quite so simple.

The problem with basic interpretations that sum up a song with single sentence is that such readings miss all the nuances of the work, i.e., they leave out all the fun little twists in the lyrics, the double-meanings in the lines, etc. Basically, simplistic interpretations of lyrics ignore all the poetry, which is part of what allows music to transcend language. Poetic lyrics also provide us with new pieces of language so that we can better understand the increasingly complex world around us. Nestled in the gaps between our definitions lies the inexpressible that only poetry can render sensible.

Well-written (read: poetic) lyrics are part of what allows songs to completely baffle us; they allow songs to elude simple characterization and slip the shackles of obsessive categorization (e.g., genre). A truly great piece of music leaves us speechless; we cannot simply explain it to someone. Instead, the best we can do is say, “you know what? Just listen to this,” to which they are only able to reply, “wow… you’re right.”

This is why I love metaphors and dualities. Yes, I realize the previous sentence just caused every person who hated English in school to audibly cringe. Look, I’ve been there, I get it. I used to think English was a cruel joke played at everyone’s expense and that it was stupid because ‘there is no right answer.’ Then one day, all of that changed. Almost as though a switch was suddenly flicked ‘on’ in my brain. It wasn’t until I understood English that I finally appreciated it. I’ve never wanted to go back, so hear me out.

Metaphors are essentially a way of controlling the associations formed by your brain when you read or hear a word. They can make you associate simple pieces of language with something extraordinary, and make you see things in a way you would never have previously considered.

If you’d like to get fancy, you can start introducing dualities; that is, setting two concepts on opposing ends of a spectrum. When you do so, you allow the reader to consider new and (seemingly) impossible gradations, all born from the struggle between two relatively ordinary ideas.

Take, for example, Poppy’s ‘poetry-ecstasy’ duality that she introduced in “X.” This was the first thing that made me take a more serious look at her work, i.e., “I think something else is going on here…” We know poetry and ecstasy are meant to be diametrically opposed in “X” because the colors in the music video change in sync with Poppy’s delivery.

If YouTube subtitles weren’t broken, they would read: “poetry, poetry, poetry”

Likewise: “ecstasy, ecstasy, ecstasy”

It’s not obvious that poetry is the opposite of ecstasy unless you’re in Wonderland in which case, you messed up somewhere. Moving on, when you set two concepts against each other like that, you introduce a new interplay between the two ideas. Now the audience is forced to see things from a new perspective, one they would not have otherwise considered. Or, they just ignore it, as is usually the case, but I digress.

With all this in mind, further study into “Scary Mask” reveals that some parts of the more basic reading don’t quite add up. Take, for example, lines like, “M-A-S-K, am I okay?” or “You ain’t gonna see me tonight”; these lines refuse to fit neatly into the obvious interpretation e.g., why spell out ‘mask’? Why are [they] not going to see “you” “tonight?” Most people would choose to ignore these outliers or simply shrug and go about their day. If this post’s existence didn’t clue you in, we won’t be doing much ‘shrugging’ or ‘ignoring.’

You’ve probably noticed this already, but I try to forge readings of Poppy’s work that fit as many different pieces as possible into them. To craft interpretations that capture the interplay between all the elements in a song. Often, this requires approaching the song from multiple angles, some even being right. If this post is good, each interpretation should form its own colored shard of glass, leaving the reader with a beautiful explanative mosaic. If this post is bad, grab a broom and wear shoes for a week.

Hilariously, doing justice to the more abstract bits of art usually means I have to use figurative language to explain other figurative language. “Sounds meta.” Indeed. Some puzzles can only be done justice with other puzzles, which is also why my writing frequently dips into obscurity. Close reading yields wonders, but means interpreting ‘carefully’ and ‘openly.’ “Sounds like a lot of work.” It is, but anybody can come up with a vague idea of what a song is ‘about,’ e.g., “this one’s about love!” How insightful, you should post that on Genius, that’s just what they’re looking for. I mean, really, at that point what are you even getting out of the song? A few minutes of pleasure before you move onto the next one? Is that it? Are you going to just spend your entire life constantly devouring one helping after another, waiting hungrily for your favorite artists to dish up your next meal?

I may be going to hell, but at least I won’t be stuck doing that.

II.

Rise and shine—

get out of bed!

Take my hand, 

there’s darkness ahead.

 “Scary Mask” is one of Poppy’s best songs. No, I’m not interested in arguing about this. It is also one of Poppy’s most important songs. This, however, I am interested in arguing about.

For the sake of the following discussion, I will be ignoring most of Poppy’s singles. “Metal” and “Immature Couture” and [other singles] are good but they complicate things and I don’t have time to deal with them, despite having the time to tell you how little time I have. Fancy people would probably call such exclusions “exceptionally non-rigorous,” but I’m over it.

I tried to make this section not-boring, dunno if I was successful; my writing takes on the flavor of whoever I read last, hence why the “Me Laughing” post reads like schizophrenia. Lately, I’ve been feeling especially masochistic, so I’ve been reading [redacted]. Expect that to shine through.

Let’s zoom out for a bit: “Scary Mask” is the flagship song of Poppy’s Choke EP, though I am sympathetic to arguments for “Meat.” “Scary Mask” ties the whole EP together and makes it possible. It’s critical to Choke’s ‘flow.’ This isn’t a given, I’ll explain/pretend to explain.

The structure of Choke almost perfectly mimics that of a five-act play. Yeah, like that Shakespeare guy. The EP contains exposition, rising action, a climax, falling action, and a conclusion. The methodically squeezing “Choke” sets the mood and introduces a problem statement to color the rest of the EP. With its pendulum-like bassline and hypnotizing array of voices, “Voicemail” depicts a forsaken mind becoming further and further dissociated from reality. A complete breakdown occurs in “Scary Mask,” the explosive climax of the EP and, at least so far, Poppy's work. Following “Scary Mask” comes the bleak and gruesome “Meat,” which is clearly akin to the falling action. And finally, we are given “The Holy Mountain,” the EP’s pessimistic and wistful send-off.

As for the context in which “Scary Mask” was created, Choke comes after two pop-y records, Bubblebath and poppy.computer, and a half-pop, half-??? disc, Am I A Girl. After AIAG, Poppy had a choice: back off and return to pop or double-down and bring on the metal. Thankfully, she chose the latter and made Choke. Let’s all take a minute to praise AIAG for even allowing Poppy such options, for flowing together so smoothly, etc. Okay, séance over, let’s return: “Scary Mask” carried Choke, without it, the EP would’ve been severely lacking a massive, stand-out song to serve as the EP’s creative apex.

“Scary Mask” is, in a sense, the ‘no turning back’ point for Poppy. Producing “Scary Mask” was like Poppy locking her old style away and throwing out the key; “X” and “Play Destroy” were #wild, but “Scary Mask” was the third strike. Put confusingly, “Scary Mask” was Poppy’s ‘home run’ while also being the ‘final nail in the coffin’ and other idioms. The track is so far removed from the days of Bubblebath and P.C that it actually created a distance, a gap, between nu-Poppy and Pop-y. “X” has pop elements and Poppy cutely ��ooo-ing’; it was walk back-able. “Scary Mask” has Jason Butler demonically screaming and saying the ‘fuck’ word; fine print says “no refunds.” Or, if you’d prefer analogies that are unlikely to age well: think of a giant iceberg breaking off from the main Arctic glacier and slipping into the cold, dark sea. Once it’s off, it’s not freezing back on. In other words, once Poppy dropped “Scary Mask,” ‘princess with a pistol’ became ‘demonic metal queen.’

I’ll also argue that “Scary Mask” is the least compromising song in Poppy’s current discography. It’s her truest expression of self pre-I Disagree. All artists have to make their music listenable-enough to get bread, just like I need to make my writing readable-enough to get read. Unfortunately, compromise is inevitable, but artists can still create good music. It’s just hard and getting harder. Plus, nobody agrees what ‘good music’ even means because we have no rigorous definition for art so—

When an artist decides to really ‘go for it,’ to make no compromises, and does it well, a beautiful thing happens. That’s what “Scary Mask” is for Poppy; she decided to pull no punches, and the result was, well, “Scary Mask.”

“X” and “Play Destroy” were both successful, but they didn’t guarantee Poppy’s nu-success. “Play Destroy” had Grimes, and “X” could have been an anomaly. If Poppy went back to pop, fans could have passed off her dip into metal as ‘weird’ but ‘kinda cool’ and that would be that. However, Poppy didn’t let up—“Scary Mask” proved she could consistently make quality metal tracks, and now we’re here and Poppy is about to destroy the world or something. Nice.

In summary: “Scary Mask” functions to transition Poppy’s sound, it does a damn good job of it, and I’m definitely looking forward to her new album.

III.

You try to take the best of me

Go away

You try to take the best of me

Go away

 Alright, zoom back in. Yes, “Scary Mask” made it possible for Poppy to throw in crazy distorted guitars and for everyone to love it, but it does more than that. “Scary Mask” also transitions Poppy her(?)self, which sounds strange but it will make sense later, probably.

Now time for the fun part.

Sometimes I like to begin my analysis with a song's verses before circling back to the chorus, as was the case with "The Holy Mountain," however, "Scary Mask" is so crazy that it doesn't even matter where I start. It's what I lovingly refer to as “straight-up bonkers,” like some twisted monstrosity tearing its face off as it stumbles around in the dark. Reminds me of the psychos from Borderlands, an analogy that already has not aged well. Basically, “Scary Mask” is all over the place, so I might as well start from the ‘beginning.’ I'm going to have to pick up the pieces and stitch them into some monster that would do Mary Shelley proud anyway.

Let's dive in.

Poppy opens the song with: “I wear my scary mask when I'm afraid I don't belong.” Okay, seems pretty straightforward so far. There isn’t much to work with here, but maybe we can add some color to this line. BUILD series conducted a relatively listenable interview with Poppy earlier this year. One excerpt to note:

Interview: “Well, why wear a mask?”

Poppy: “Sometimes you just have two faces.”

Interview: “And that’s okay?”

Poppy: “Only sometimes.”

This is why I was debating just skipping “Scary Mask”—the opening line was a little cliché, and it seemed like Poppy had taken Batman Forever literally, neither of which are particularly good signs. However, I want to stress that lacking an interesting message wouldn’t necessarily make “Scary Mask” a ‘bad’ song. This idea may seem very strange, especially in modern society where it appears everyone agrees that deep themes=good art. We’ve been raised with the notion that the best art is art that tells a message, and it’s difficult for us to consider otherwise. However, not only does the conception of ‘depth’ quickly fall apart (as I noted in the “Me Laughing” post), but it’s entirely possible that thematic elements have absolutely zero bearing on the aesthetic quality of a work. In other words, ‘themes’ may not be what make art ‘good.’

Yeah, take a minute and think about that.

Anywho, after deciding I could afford to pay attention, I found many interesting things. Note Poppy’s word-choice. She uses the word “scary,” an almost child-like characterization of something fearful. Indeed, in the music video, Poppy’s hair is hidden or pulled back, giving her a youthful appearance. Look, pictures:

Moreover, peppered throughout the song are Poppy’s pouty squeals and she sings with call an almost ‘whimper-y’ tone, the end of her words marked by a spike in pitch. Obviously, we’d like to ask: why is she presenting herself to us this way?

We find answers in the second half of the line: “when I’m afraid I don’t belong.” Okay, so when she finds herself in situations where she is uncomfortable, where she is struck by the feeling of being small, almost child-like, she resorts to the mask as a defense mechanism. Now we’re getting somewhere, though I would like to ask: why is the mask “scary”?

Being two-faced does not necessarily mean the one face has to resemble Harvey Dent post-toasting, it could simply be a different side of your personality. Perhaps the next line will help:

You can’t read my brain until it’s off

Note Poppy says “brain” instead of any other word such as ‘mind’ or ‘thoughts.’ Using the word ‘brain’ signals a sense of invasiveness. Think: Sylar from Heroes cutting open peoples’ skulls and studying their brains for secrets. I’m sure many obsessive fans have tried digging up details on Poppy’s personal life and many interviewers have tried asking her inappropriate questions. It appears that Poppy wears a “scary mask” as a counter to such intrusions, as if she decided that the only appropriate response to these inappropriate behaviors was a face-to-face with the scary mask.

Holy shit, was this entire song written as a response to the AMP Radio interview? That would be hilarious.

Poppy then repeats that the mask is “not coming off.” Hey, wait a minute…

Okay, so after a fairly badass guitar interlude, Poppy begins feverishly chanting the lines: “I'm never gonna take it off, so don't touch me / Never gonna take it off, stop looking at me.” I’m sure some fans hate me because I’m always banging the drum that Poppy’s work is about obsession, and thus, appear to be attacking them, but come on, how clear would you like the message to be? Go watch “Repeat After Me” if you’re not convinced.

Anyway, in a sense, Poppy’s scary mask (read: freaky persona) operates as a shield from foreign bodies who seek to violate her personal space.

I’m going to leave Jason Butler’s lines for the end because, well, you’ll see.

IV.

In the music video for “Scary Mask,” after Poppy first puts the mask on and has a little breakdown, there are many instances where she is no longer wearing the mask, but is still acting like a possessed teen in desperate need of exorcizing. This is weird, here are some possibilities:

1) Poppy takes the mask off in the music video because she’s pretty and people want to see her lip-syncing.

2) The mask was always on.

We’re going with door #2.

Let’s look at some of the weirder lines, like Poppy chanting the incantation: “M-A-S-K, am I okay?” By spelling out ‘mask,’ Poppy signifies that the “am I okay?” question is directly referencing the mask she wears. In other words: is it okay for Poppy to wear a mask?

We already know Poppy came down pretty hard on one side of the fence when she answered “sometimes” in the BUILD series interview. My equally unambiguous answer is: “it depends.” There are many reasons why wearing a ‘mask’ is a terrible thing that slowly renders you psychologically ‘fucked,’ go read TLP or Lasch if you want more info on that (actually, you should just read them anyway). However, we’ve already established “Scary Mask” was an empowering song for Poppy because it served as a truer artistic outlet for her, so any masquerading should be approached with this in mind.

Alright, so when is it a good thing to wear a mask? How can it be a good thing to pretend to be someone you’re not?

Well, when you’re an artist, you typically create art to express something. Often, this ‘something’ is deeply personal to yourself. You put a lot of yourself into your work. This means criticism of your work can really hurt. After all, if someone calls your [song/painting/writing] ‘trash,’ it’s like calling you ‘trash.’ It feels like that criticism is aimed directly at that piece of yourself you put into your work. Yeah, that sucks. Sometimes it’s so difficult to bear that you avoid creating anything so you don’t have to be faced with such attacks. You forgo creating art because the injurious potential of criticism is too daunting. Without a creative outlet, your feelings remain bottled inside, slowly eating away at you from within. It’s a lose-lose game and everyone’s the player.

So, you ask: “what do I do?”

Well, that’s where the mask comes in.

The artist can use a persona to get around these problems. In other words, putting on a mask can actually allow you to finally be yourself, which seems paradoxical, but I’ll explain.

Take, for example, me. After reading enough of the silly words I write, you may start to form a picture of me in your head. To speculate and fantasize about what I actually look like or how I actually act. Without even knowing your thoughts, I can assure you that any such conceptions are completely inaccurate. I know that I’m not actually as [adjective] as you imagine me to be because I work with a protective persona. The persona allows me to write without worrying too much harsh criticism. Hence, with a persona, I can safely express myself through my work.

The same is true for Poppy. As I’ve noted in previous posts, Poppy has a lot to say about the world. She would like to express these messages artistically, but it’s not always easy to face criticism of her work (and Poppy gets a lot of hate). By adopting the ‘Poppy’ persona, Poppy is able to safely express herself. To finally say what she wants to say. To be who she really wants to be. And when she is faced with scathing criticism, she is able to continue her work undeterred because it feels like the criticism is directed toward Poppy (persona) instead of Poppy (person).

An alternate (and hilarious) reading of the lines “M-A-S-K, am I okay?” and “I’m alright, I’m alright, I’m alright” would be to imagine them as part of a demented question-and-answer period with Poppy. Many of her fans have expressed concerns over the effects of living your life pretending to be a [robot/alien/demonic angel], not to mention the section of Poppy’s fan-base who seem to constantly worry about Poppy being Titanic’s so-called ‘puppet’ and that he is abusive towards her. You can interpret Jason Butler screaming “I’m alright, I’m alright, I’m alright” as Poppy’s response to such concerns. Seems like an appropriate answer to me.

V.

You try to take the best of me

GO AWAY

YOU TRY TO TAKE THE BEST OF ME

GO AWAY

YOU TRY TO TAKE THE BEST OF ME

GO AWAY

 There are some remarkably odd lines in “Scary Mask” that need some serious groundwork to render sensible, so let’s switch gears for a second and complain about pop music. Yes, I know. It’s not exactly brave (let alone novel) to decry pop music as a vapid and soulless caricature of art, but I find it therapeutic. Plus, I’m clearly writing a narrative here. If these words make you indignant, first ask yourself ‘why?’ and then relax. I listen to pop music too, most of which is terrible. Also, I’m talking about the correlation, not the rule. If you fight me with exceptions, I’ll hit you back with trends.

Pop is the most apologetic music genre out there (though mumble rap and country are giving it a run for its money, literally); pop music’s main purpose is stated by its terminology: it exists to be popular. To be as widely palatable as possible so as to garner as many listeners as possible. The implications associated with a genre revolving entirely around popularity for the sake of commercial success are pretty disgusting. I’d even go so far as to say the existence of ‘pop’ as a musical genre is a strong indicator that culture is no longer treated as an essential component to human society, but is instead only another industry, and has been for a while. People love celebrating the façade or appearance of culture (partially so they can consider themselves ‘cultured’), but the truth is that culture now exists mainly as a commodity to be endlessly repackaged and sold back to people under the guise of ‘art.’ “I blame capitalism!” Sure, and you may not even be wrong, but that’s a discussion for another time. The point here is that to successfully create music with value, music that isn’t just a meaningless product, one needs to escape such a hyper-commoditized regime i.e., the corporatized pop-music industry.

Business-wise, Poppy did this by ditching Mad Decent and signing with Sumerian Records, an independent label which will hopefully make her very happy. Music-wise, she also had to transition. Recall: putting on the mask (read: persona) allowed Poppy to be herself and make the music she wanted to. So, to evolve her music, she had to also evolve the mask. After releasing two and a half pop records, people will generally expect, well, more pop. People don’t like when their favorite artists abruptly change, probably because they don’t wish to face the idea that said artists were never making music for them in the first place. Either way, for Poppy to tell tales of an impending apocalypse or drop an insane metal album like I Disagree, she had to ease fans into it. Musically, this is the second half of AIAG and the entirety of Choke, but it’s also a perfect encapsulation of “Scary Mask.” It’s possible that the bipolar nature of songs like “X,” “Concrete,” and “Scary Mask” is only due to Poppy trying to transition her sound without upsetting too many fans. Hence why these songs incorporate lighter sections to balance out the darkness. Perhaps “I Disagree” is as dark as Poppy’s going to get, but given recent news of her hanging out with Nadya Tolokno from Pussy Riot, I doubt it (“don’t know how long until they see the rest of me”).

This is also where Poppy’s YouTube videos come in. While producing new music, she can quickly put out a few videos and slowly ramp up the darkness, facilitating a comfortable change in artistic tone for the fans. Something, something, frogs and hot water.

Considering all of the above, I agree with something @thatpoppyuk said a while back in regards to people saying “Moriah is coming out!” when Poppy dyed her bangs:

Not only is it potentially insensitive to call Poppy ‘Moriah,’ it’s simply inaccurate. For better or worse, people don’t regress, they progress. Poppy is not doing something so #basic as ‘returning to her roots,’ she is becoming who she’s always wanted to be.

VI.

Now that we have completed the necessary groundwork, we are able finish off the rest of the song. Lyrically, “Scary Mask” is rather focused; we’ve actually covered all of Poppy’s lines, so I’d like to examine the role Jason Butler from Fever 333 plays in the song.

I’ve actually refrained from gushing about how good “Scary Mask” is until now, but I don’t think I can contain myself any longer. Fever 333 was an excellent feature that perfectly meshes with Poppy’s harmonics and the chomping guitar riffs. Not only that, but lyrically, Jason Butler brings an insane performance. He brings scary mask to life.

Fever 333’s role in the song is complicated and will take multiple approaches to flesh out. First, consider the scary mask (Jason Butler’s lines) as an entity speaking for Poppy, as though it were some demonic hype-man:

This would then explain the line, “well you heard the woman, so fucking look away.” It appears that Poppy needs someone telling others to “fucking look away,” betraying a sense of dependency. After all, if Poppy could handle such onlookers on her own, she wouldn’t need someone else telling them to ‘beat it.’ We may interpret this as a sign that Poppy has come to rely on the shielding-nature of the mask. She relies on her persona for protection, but reliance gives way to over-reliance. Naturally, substitution and dependency follow.

However, this isn’t wholly satisfying, nor is it very charitable. Let’s consider another, more empowering, approach, this time as Poppy speaking through the mask. In this case, a synthesis is underway between Poppy and her new persona (read: scary mask). During the violent transformation, she screams and struggles as the darkness of the mask washes through her, until the process is complete and both are one. Or, rather, Poppy is transcending her persona through her persona, a process of metamorphic self-realization.

Approaching the relationship between Poppy and the mask as a symbiotic one will perhaps explain one of the most bizarre lines in all of Poppy’s discography (minus every line in “Voicemail,” of course): “You ain’t gonna see me tonight!” I mean, what the hell. It’s difficult to explain how much this line confuses me, words simply elude me. This is one of those lines that normal people would shrug and come up with a half-hearted explanation such as: “well, Poppy is wearing a mask, and because she is wearing a mask, you aren’t going to see her. You know, because she’s wearing a mask.” Poorly-conceived explanations such as these negate the whole point of studying art. You can’t just jerk responsibility when ‘the going gets tough.’ The reward isn’t merely the end result, and people who believe this are the exact same people who Genius exploits. It is the work, the method, the climb, the struggle that is important because it is while grappling with the piece that one learns the most about oneself. With that being said, this line has haunted me for three weeks now, but I think I can do it some justice.

First, we examine the context in which the line appears in the song. The line first appears near the beginning of the song, wedged between a crushing guitar interlude and the Poppy’s staccato-ed “M-A-S-K, am I okay?” build-up. Then the line comes again at the end of Jason Butler’s insane post-chorus breakdown which is interlaced with Poppy’s disembodied screams. This second appearance follows a punchy chorus from Poppy and directly precedes a charged guitar solo and Poppy’s explosive final meltdown. From all this, we notice that “You ain’t gonna see me tonight!” is always delivered amidst a great deal of turmoil, always sprinkled into the middle of a violent episode.

Next, we look at the line itself. “Ain’t” and “gonna” are very colloquial, like the speaker hasn’t been taught to speak ‘properly’ or has lapsed into a state where they are unable to or simply do not care. I’m also picking up a touch of mentally-disturbed giddiness, as if some deranged killer is frothily barking this at you outside your window while his head jerks around. “Well, I’m definitely glad not to live on the ground-floor.” Likewise.

I must comment, however, that “Tonight” is an odd word choice. “Well, maybe they just needed a word that rhymed with ‘alright’?” Remember what I said about giving up when things get difficult? No, “tonight” relates a sense of shadowy immediacy, like a doom drawing near. Perhaps Poppy is about to descend upon the world, shrouding it in darkness with her black angel wings.

Hence, “You ain’t gonna see me tonight” relates the sense of foreboding violence that comes with Poppy’s new persona. This makes a lot of sense in the context of Poppy’s work because I Disagree is likely going to be her most aggressive album yet. See, for instance, “I Disagree.”

Basically: full dark, no stars; Poppy’s out for blood, time to take cover.

VII.

In summary: the ‘scary mask’ is a protective garment for Poppy as well as an empowering one. The adoption of an artistic persona allows her to cope with criticisms and continue her work. Recently, she has adjusted her work, and thus, her persona, to something truer to herself, and “Scary Mask” was an integral part of her transition.

Well, wasn’t that fun? I know I enjoyed myself.

Wait, what? You have a question? Ah, wait—I know what you’re thinking:

“If Poppy only wears her ‘scary mask’ when she’s ‘afraid she won’t belong,’ then why is she ‘never going to take it off’?”

Well, maybe she feels like she will never belong.

[silver-falling-star]

for the first person OC asks: i started to go through and pick individual numbers and then realized i was picking basically all of them so fuck it, all of them for chris & shannon

Oh sweet jesus, okay ima just put this under a readmore b/c this is gonna get long.

1. What is your name?

Shannon: “Shannon Miller”

Chris: “Chris Mitchell”

2. Any nicknames?

Shannon: “Shay, and any petnames my girlfriend has for me.”

Chris: “Kind of hard to make a nickname out of a one syllable name.”

3. Gender stuff?

Shannon: “Cisgender woman.”

Chris: “I’m genderfluid and prefer they/them pronouns.”

4. Sexuality stuff?

Shannon: “My sexuality is girls.”

Chris: “I have more important things to do than date people. I’m ace.”

5. How old are you?

Shannon: “I’m 43, though I probably look older.”

Chris: “32 in 2012, 52 in 2032. I’m older than Shannon by 9 years.”

6. Any distinguishing traits?

Shannon: “My hair is always dyed some vibrant color, and my clothes outside of work are very flashy.”

Chris: “I try to look as basic and androgynous as possible. But I guess my hair is about as fiery as a Weasley. Now if I’m in my hero suit, I guess the fact that I look like some mutated freak is pretty distinguishing.”

7. How did you get your scars?

Shannon: “I’ve got some scars that have long since faded from dumb shit I did as a kid.”

Chris: “My nose is dented from when a kid threw a rock at my face when we were playing baseball with a rock and a stick. Though…. the big scar on my back comes from radiation and fire burns.”

8. Anything you’re ashamed of?

Shannon: “Id… rather not talk about that.”

Chris: “Plenty, starting with anyone who’s died as a result of my actions.”

9. Do you have any pets? Do you want any?

Shannon: “No pets, but both mine and Aliza’s schedules make having any pets difficult. Maybe when we retire.”

Chris: “I have two cats, Wellington and Fae. Wellington is a four year old tabby I found in the wheel well of a car, Fae is about a year old black cat I adopted from the shelter.”

10. How would you describe yourself?

Shannon: “Athletically chubby butch with great hair and an even greater fashion sense.”

Chris: “Androgynous ginger mechanic with no distinguishing features. Looks like if you mixed a jock and nerd together.”

11. How would your friends describe you?

Shannon: “Well to quote one of my friends: ‘That bitch who switched my nameplate and didn’t tell me until I got an email from the SAC about it.’“

Chris: “Hopefully something like ‘Determined and willing to help.’ I don’t want to put words in her mouth though.”

12. How would your enemies describe you?

Shannon: answered here

Chris: “I honestly couldn’t give two shits.”

13. What are the top three songs you can’t stop listening to right now? 

Shannon: “Running in the 90′s is always a classic, Smash Mouth by All Star is good meme material, and Honeybee by Steam Powered Giraffe because I’m a sap for a good love song.”

Chris: “Can’t Stop Me Now by Queen, Sweet Caroline by Niel Diamond, and Dancing Queen by ABBA. I have a thing for the older music.”

14. Do you have an aesthetic and how would you describe it? 

Shannon: “The 90′s personified, because I love how bright it all is. Contrasts with the black suits I wear to work everyday.”

Chris: “Practical, durable, and unnoticeable.”

15. How do you normally dress? 

Shannon: “At work I wear black tailored suits, usually with some colorful tie. Off duty I wear bright windbreakers, baggy jeans, and anything that really screams lesbian honestly. Oh and you can’t forget the heelies.”

Chris: “Blank t-shirt, cargo pants with plenty of pockets, and converse. When I’m working in the shop it gets covered with a heavy duty set of coveralls.”

16. How do you normally wear your hair? 

Shannon: “Pixie cut with the sides shaved close, usually dyed some bright color.”

Chris: “Just touching the base of my neck and swept back. If I’m working in the shop, I have it pulled up into a short ponytail. When doing hero work my hair is shoulder length and unkempt. I’ve tried brushing it out, trust me, never stays.”

17. Who is closest to you? 

Shannon: “Aliza, my girlfriend.”

Chris: “Winnie. I trust her with my life.”

18. Who have you lost?

Shannon: “I’d rather not talk about that.”

Chris: “More people than I’d have preferred to lose before I’m 70.”

19. How do you feel about your family?

Shannon: “It’s complicated. They raised me and cared for me and empowered me to pursue my dreams, and I’ll always be grateful for that. But when you’re from a small town in a rural area, they aren’t the most accepting of the whole sexuality thing. They’ve gotten better, but I can tell they’d honestly wish I would settle down with a man. Sucks for them though, I’m perfectly happy where I am. My brother is the one exception who’s accepted me from day one, and I’m grateful to him for that.”

Chris: “They’ve been nothing but supportive of me and my interests. I was worried when I came out that they’d reject me, but instead they warmed up to me changing my name and my fluctuating pronouns. My parents have worried about me of course, I am their oldest kid after all who doesn’t exactly fit the mold of what my hometown might call normal. They also basically adopted Winnie as their fifth kid after meeting her once, they’re a loving kind of people. My siblings are great. We get on each others nerves sometimes and definitely have had our rough spots, but in the end we’re there for each other. Even if my little brother is a little shit. I can only hope they’ll take the truth of my superpowers and being a superhero as well as they have everything else.”

20. How do you feel about your culture?

Shannon: “What culture, I’m from hicksville USA, we got farmland, coal mines, and racism. I guess our music is nice but everything else feels like it doesn’t even really exist.”

Chris: “I’m from an area with a bunch of mountain people. Our culture involves hunting, illegal shine stills, meth labs, and pot farms. Don’t go into the wrong side of the hollar or you might not come out, all that. Though the sense of community there is pretty strong, even if its very much a ‘you grew up here so you’re one of us’ way. I can take parts of it and leave others.”

21. Is there anything either would dislike about you?

Shannon: “Yes to both and its mostly that I’m gay and dating another woman.”

Chris: “I should hope my family doesn’t dislike me. As for my uh, ‘culture’, my gender identity for sure. I’ve had the odd look here and there growing up. And some classmates not quite sure what to make of me.”

22. Any regrets?

Shannon: “Loads, but I try not to let them control me. What happened in the past is in the past.”

Chris: “More than I care to admit and I get more every day.”

23. Any vices?

Shannon: answered here

Chris: “My video games I guess. I dunno’ I don’t think I have that many. Bad habits sure, vices eh, take it or leave it.”

24. Any phobias?

Shannon: answered here

Chris: “My old boss figuring out I know what he did, random facilities conveniently in the middle of nowhere, the government locking my ass up as a test subject, I could go on.”

25. Any triggers?

Shannon: “Explosions, not a big fan of fireworks because of it.”

Chris: “Explosions, gunshots, head trauma, my anxiety can be a trigger sometimes if I’m stressed out enough honestly.”

26. Any hobbies?

Shannon: “Skateboarding, fishing, camping, going to the gym, things that keep me active honestly.”

Chris: “Engineering new tech, video games, I stream on twitch from time to time. I still also enjoy reading comics and building complicated lego sets.”

27. Is there someone or something you would die for?

Shannon: “Aliza, justice, my team, if I have to go down so a criminal can be apprehended, then so be it.”

Chris: “My family, Winnie, saving the people who need saving.”

28. Are you an optimist or a pessimist?

Shannon: “I try to be an optimist, otherwise I’d end up being very bitter on the job.”

Chris: “I’m in the middle, and it entirely depends on the situation.”

29. Are you an introvert or an extrovert?

Shannon: “Introverted-Extrovert. I enjoy people but I need my alone time.”

Chris: “Introvert. I’m fine with small groups but I don’t like large crowds. Though, I have to put on an extroverted front as Equinox. Equinox is more of a people person.”

30. Are you brains or brawn?

Shannon: “More brawn than brains but I’m not stupid.”

Chris: “Why not both?”

31. Are you passive or aggressive?

Shannon: “More aggressive than passive in a work setting. At home I’m passive.”

Chris: “More aggressive.”

32. What are you best at?

Shannon: “I am very talented at finding good campsites.”

Chris: “Creating new technology. I am an engineer by education.”

33. What are you worst at?

Shannon: already answered

Chris: “I’m pretty shit at shooting a gun larger than a pistol.”

34. What is something you want to be good at but are really bad at?

Shannon: “Skating, just so I can prove to Aliza that I can indeed master any form of wheel based sport.”

Chris: “Managing my anger.”

35. What’s your place in your world or the world you’ve entered?

Shannon: “I’m a special agent at the National Agency of Superpowered Persons, or NASP. I help manage the superhero team that protects Detroit.”

Chris: “I’m a mechanic by trade and one of the world’s first superheroes when the occasion calls for it. Recently picked up the hobby of unwillingly being flung through alternate dimensions trying to find our way home. Hopefully we end up doing what the main character in Quantum Leap couldn’t do and get home.”

36. What’s your place in your peer group?

Shannon: “A fellow agent and occasionally boss. Friend group is different but you said peer group not friend group so eh.”

Chris: “I honestly don’t know. My peer group is limited to my friend Winnie and two bank robbers I’m still trying to get a handle on.”

37. How do you feel about your story?

Shannon: “Well aside from the trauma, I feel okay about it. Could do with superheroes who don’t break the law on a regular basis but you take what you can get. Not that all of them do that.”

Chris: “I just hope I can get some fucking rest soon. All this stress is going to make me go grey before I’m ready for that. Or it could kill me, who knows at this point.”

38. How do you feel about your author?

Shannon: “They suffer from executive dysfunction and more of the story exists in their head than on paper. But thats fine.”

Chris: “I have two and I only vaguely know what one of them has planned for me.”

39. Do you know your ending? How do you feel about that?

Shannon: “Yes and I’m not looking forward to it.”

Chris: “Yes and no. I know what one of them would LIKE to make my ending, but who knows if that will end up being what happens in the prime universe.”

40. Any AU’s you wish you lived instead?

Shannon: “I do quite like the idea of being a bartender with the other three fed characters in the biker AU. That’s got lots of fun antics going on in it.”

Chris: “The everyone lives AU is significantly less painful and more meme-filled.”

[conspiracieys-archive]

hewwo can i get plum and mara for the world building ask meme?

gasp.. my Institute Ladies… they r so different i lov them so MUCH lets GO

Plum:

B A S I C S

full name: [REDACTED] “Plum” Rodriguez

gender: agender

sexuality: biromantic asexual

pronouns: she/her

O T H E R S

family: none living :( BUT she loves Synth!Shawn with ALL her heart and she will go fucking FERAL if anyone hurts him or touches him or anything. he’s her BABY. that’s… that’s her boy, dang it.

birthplace: Boston, somewhere.

job: institute director figurehead & mercenary/assassin

phobias: being found out as a fraud (she hates the institute with every fiber of her being), being weak, being alone, losing those she cares about

guilty pleasures: reading, drinking alcohol, playing the piano, origami (she feels like she can’t be Herself in the institute, and hides almost every part of herself from them, so it’s all guilty pleasures)

M O R A L S

morality alignment?: ok i talked abt this a long long time ago, but tl;dr, she’s Lawful Neutral w/ Lawful Evil tendencies

sins - lust/greed/gluttony/sloth/pride/envy/wrath

virtues - chastity/charity/diligence/humility/kindness/patience/justice

T H I S - O R - T H A T

introvert/extrovert

organized/disorganized

close minded/open-minded

calm/anxious

disagreeable/agreeable

cautious/reckless

patient/impatient

outspoken/reserved

leader/follower

empathetic/unemphatic - both but it depends on the situation

optimistic/pessimistic

traditional/modern - yes

hard-working/lazy

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

otp: Plum/Deacon plz don’t @ me ill die; Plum/X6 but it’s complicated and not rly healthy but neither of them know that or care; some spicy one-sided Hancock/Plum, but she rly appreciates him as a friend

ot3: Hancock/Plum/X6 - they’re going to live forever together.

brotp: Plum/X6, Plum/Preston, Plum/Mac

notp: Plum/Mac is a no-go romantically. also just… Plum will probably never love anyone the way she loved Deacon so what the FUCK.

Ms Mara Monroe:

B A S I C S

full name: Mara Jane Monroe

gender: f

sexuality: bisexual w/ a heavy masc preference

pronouns: she/her

O T H E R S

family: she only considers the Raiders of Nuka World to be her family. Shawn died, and while he saw the synths as his children, they’re just tools to Mara

birthplace: she was born roughly in the area that is Annexed Canada and married Nate to easier move into the United States proper

job: Institute Director, Overboss in Nuka-World, all around bastard for hire

phobias: being weak, blood, seeing her own reflection

guilty pleasures: going to Diamond City in disguise and sitting down in a corner of the Dugout Inn, just watching Vadim Bobrov exist. also reading and listening to the Mysterious Stranger on the radio

M O R A L S

morality alignment?: CHAOTIC EVIL!!!!!!!! lov that chaotic awful bich

sins - lust/greed/gluttony/sloth/pride/envy/wrath

virtues - chastity/charity/diligence/humility/kindness/patience/justice

T H I S - O R - T H A T

introvert/extrovert

organized/disorganized

close minded/open-minded

calm/anxious

disagreeable/agreeable

cautious/reckless

patient/impatient

outspoken/reserved

leader/follower

empathetic/unemphatic

optimistic/pessimistic

traditional/modern

hard-working/lazy

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

otp: Mara/Gage is otp4lyfe, but Gage/Mara/Mason/Mags is…. real

ot3: tbh, mainly Gage/Mara/Mason

brotp: god i dont even think Mara has any friends. WAIT…. Mara/Strong… they both appreciate a good bloodbath. also Mara/Pickman was gonna b a thing and they definitely made out but he carved up her face and she broke his nose and now they just.. appreciate each other and team up sometimes but could never be together

notp: MARA/PRESTON IS A NO-NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Preston looks like Mara’s Nate, and it hurts her to look at him. they rarely interact if possible, and their convos are always strained -- also we dont talk abt it but MaraVadim... ended very poorly and just :( he couldn’t... handle her. and she’s very aggressive and murderous and just Awful. Vadim couldn’t handle it, and he broke Mara’s heart and she doesn’t handle that kind of thing well and definitely almost killed him,,, yay..

[damien-ward]

Interview with the Investigator

► Name ➔    “Dardillien Ward.” ► Are you single ➔ “Yes.”  ► Are you happy ➔   Dardillien let out a sigh, “Between you and me? No. There is so much going on in the world, so much despair, I find it harder and harder to be happy these days.” ► Are you angry? ➔   “Right this moment? No. But it doesn’t take much to get me angry, I am just good at hiding it.”

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ “I was born in Gilneas City.” ► Hair Color ➔ Dardillien pursed his lips for a second, “I’m going to say brown, unless you can think of a better color that doesn’t sound so plain.” ► Eye Color ➔ “Blue. They are yellow in my worgen form though.. not sure why.” ► Birthday ➔ “June thirteenth.”  ► Mood ➔ “Right this moment? Intrigued, I find your questions entertaining and fun, they help pass the time.” ► Gender ➔  “I’m male.” ► Summer or winter ➔ “Summer, it never got too hot in Gilneas during the summer growing up, it was nice. Winters were a bit chilly.” ► Morning or afternoon ➔ "What’s morning?” The Gilnean chuckled. ► Are your parents still married ➔  “No, my mother passed during the Fall of Gilneas.” 

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love? ➔ “No.” ► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “I believe in interest at first sight, you can see someone and immediately get a sense that you want to meet them and get to know them, which naturally could develop into feelings and then love. But love at first sight? Nah, it’s nice in stories, but it doesn’t exist in reality.” ► Who ended your last relationship? ➔ "She did.” ► Have you ever broken someone’s heart? ➔  "Depends on what you mean, I may have said a thing or two in the past that may have hurt a lover’s feelings, or maybe even family. If you mean break someone’s heart as in break up with them, then no I have not.” ► Are you afraid of commitments? ➔ "I like to think I’m not, but who knows.” ► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “No.” ► Have you ever had a secret admirer? ➔ "I’m sure I have I just didn’t know about them.” ► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “Yes..”

SEVEN TRAITS

disorganized / organized / in between.

patient / impatient /in between.

outspoken / reserved / in between.

empathetic / unemphatic / in between.

optimistic / pessimistic / in between.

hard-working / lazy / in between.

loyal / disloyal / unknown / in between.

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ “I’ve done both. I prefer love, but I don’t mind lust.” ► Cats or Dogs ➔ Dardillien chuckles, “Well considering I own a dog I am going to go with that.” ► Lemonade or iced tea? “Iced Tea.” ► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “In my line of work having many regular friends can be beneficial.” ► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ "Depends on the situation.” He trailed off and smiled. ► Day or night ➔ “Night.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ?➔ “Not that I can remember, that was more my sister’s thing and I caught her on more than one occasion.” ► Fallen down/up the stairs? ➔ “Probably?” ► Stolen something?  “Is it stealing if it was already stolen and you are getting it back?” ► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “Of course.” ► Wanted to disappear ➔ "At one point, yes.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes? ➔  “I like both, but seeing a genuine smile always gets me.” ► Shorter or Taller? ➔ "In general shorter, but it’s a bit complicated.. I mean if I like a Kaldorei woman she is taller than me while in human form, but in worgen form she would be shorter than me. It’s a whole thing.” ► Intelligence or Attraction? ➔  “In regards to what? If we are talking about a partner on a case or working on a mission for Stygian then obviously someone who is intelligent. If we are talking about in relation to a romantic partner, then that is a bit different, obviously there needs to be some level of attraction, but that can’t sustain a relationship so intelligence is also important.” ► Hook-up or Relationship? ➔ “I’ve done both. I prefer relationships, but sometimes just a night of passion is fine.”

THREE ABOUT FRIENDS

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends? “All of them? No.” ► Who is your best friend?  “I don’t really have one.” ► Have you ever lost a good friend? "Yes.” He looked away from the interviewer.

TWO FOR FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along? ➔ “Yes, I get along with both my father and sister very well.” ► Do you see your family often?  “Not as often as I’d like.”

ONE WHO KNOWS ALL ► Who knows everything about you?  “No one. My sister would be the closest though.”

ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD

► Would you say you have a messed up life? “Don’t we all? With recent events I think many have messed up lives right now.”

Tagged by: @risrielthron @catherine-lindgren @the-real-arcanist-val thanks guys!

Tagging: Anyone who hasn’t done this. *insert Emperor voice* DO IT!