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thetravelerwrites · 5 months

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Margaret and Rourke (Part 1)

Rating: Mature Relationships: Female Human/Male Orc Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Lovers, Interspecies Romance, Orcs, Older Man/Younger Woman Content Warnings: Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of Physical Violence, Mentions of Torture, References to Sexual Assault Resulting in Pregnancy Series: Part 18 of Shelter Forest: The Towns Words: 4,238

The reader's mother from Akjan's fic and her orc hubby get their own fic! After her daughter is taken away from her to be married to an orc chieftain she's never met, Margaret worries she'll never see her again. An orc arrives with news of her daughter and promises to help them reunite. Please leave feedback!

Your daughter had been gone for two months already. The count had ripped her from your arms in an instant on the day of her eighteenth birthday and gave you little to no time to say goodbye. You could only hope that she was well and being treated properly wherever she was, but you had no way to know for sure. You were anxious constantly, unaware if she was healthy or fed properly or even alive, but the idea that she could be somewhere out there, safe and happy, was the only comfort you found in your day to day life.

You were in a lot of pain at the moment. Moving around was difficult, and you struggled to complete your normal tasks. The madam had whipped you mercilessly just the day before for the unspeakable crime of passing in front of her when she was in a bad mood. She’d always been unkind to you, but since she discovered that your daughter, Catherine, was indeed the child of the Count, she had become the human embodiment of cruelty, turning the typical punishments she doled out onto you into nothing short of torture. You had no friends to turn to, since everyone in the manor knew you were the Countess’s favorite punching bag, so they would earn themselves no favors by being kind to you. Without Catherine there to lean on anymore, it was becoming harder to endure the beatings.

As you were working, you saw David, a butler that had been hired recently. His face fell in sympathy as soon as he saw you, likely due to the bruising on your face and the split lip you were sporting. He was one of the few that treated you kindly.

“Margaret, I’m glad I caught you,” He said. “I need your help.”

“My help?” You asked. “I’ll do my best. What can I help with?”

“The master has given me a task in town, but I don’t know my way around quite yet. Could you help me find the…” He consulted a piece of paper in his hand. “The Periwinkle Florist? The master is having guests later this evening and wants new flowers for the foyer and receiving room. Do you know where it is?”

“Oh, yes, I do,” You told him. “It’s quite far, though. I’m surprised Master wants us to go so far out of the way for fresh flowers.”

“You know how the master is,” David said, rolling his eyes. “He wants what he wants.”

Margaret laughed nervously. “Yes. Should we go now? It’ll take us at least an hour to get there and an hour back.”

“That would be best, if we want to return before nightfall,” David agreed. “Are you ready to go as you are?”

“Oh, I just need to grab my shawl and we can go,” You replied, taking a step toward the servants’ quarters.

“Best be quick,” He said. “I’ll wait by the rear door.”

Nodding, you quick-stepped back to your tiny closet and grabbed your crocheted shawl, old and repaired many times. Something felt off about the room, like something was missing, but you figured it was just because Catherine was no longer there, so it felt terribly empty.

You met David, who was carrying a large produce bag, by the back door that led out to the back of the estate, where there were the stables on one side and the tool sheds on the other. Between them was a road used exclusively by the servants into and out of the estate. The two of you set off down it, heading toward the middle ring of the city, where most of the shops were located.

David was pleasant company, engaging you in light small talk to pass the time. He asked about your daughter, which you were only too happy to talk about, and told you about his wife and son, to whom he was sending all of his money. Hearing him fondly describe his son as a “tiny terror” made you smile.

Finally, you arrived, but instead of entering the shop, David directed you to the back of the building. Confused, you followed him. Standing there was an orc whittling a small block of wood. He had long, single-braided dark hair and bright eyes, dressed in a simple tunic and trousers, and a rucksack was set against the wall next to him. He was more slender than most orcs you’d ever seen, though he was tall and had tight, strappy muscles on his arms. He looked up as you approached, though he paused momentarily when he saw you, staring and slack-jawed. His eyebrows drew down into a small frown briefly, gone instantly, though you weren’t sure what that was about. The sight of a man you’d never met before, a physically powerful one at that, filled you with no small amount of terror. Being alone with two men who could easily overpower you made you even less comfortable.

“Who…?” You asked, turning to David.

“Don’t be afraid, Ms. Margaret. This is an associate of mine, Rourke,” David said.

“I… I don’t… What are we doing here, David?” You asked him, becoming very worried and starting to back away.

The orc named Rourke approached the two of you slowly as if approaching a skittish animal.

“Are you Ms. Margaret? Miss Catherine’s mother?” He asked you, and your heart jumped into your throat. Forgetting your fear momentarily, you reached out desperately to clutch his arm.

“Is she alright? Is she safe? Where is she?”

“She’s fine,” Rourke said reassuringly. “She’s married to the chief of the Willowshield Stronghold and being given the respect she’s due as the chieftain’s wife, so you have no reason to worry. We’re here to take you to her.”

“Take me… I…” You hesitated and looked backward in the general direction of the Count’s manor, though it wasn’t in view. “We’re leaving now?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rourke said. “We have to move quickly. If we don’t leave now, we may not have another chance to leave without the Count knowing. I’m sure he’ll realize it sooner rather than later, but we can get a head start if we leave now.”

Anxiety welled up in you, present at all times, but vastly more intense at the moment than normal. You’d never been outside of the city before and had no idea what to expect from the outside world, and you didn’t know these men at all nor have any reason to believe or trust them, but… your baby girl was out there. If there was any chance of seeing her again, you would have to place your trust in strangers.

“I didn’t bring my things,” You replied weakly.

David reached into the large bag he’d brought with him and wrestled out a second smaller bag, which you recognized as your own carpet bag, where you kept your meager treasures. You had bought it ages ago when you first tried to leave the manor, but finding out you were with child had stopped you. As bad as the manor was, even though you were paid pennies, you were still paid. You were fed. There was a bed underneath you and a roof overhead. And… you didn’t know where else you could have gone, anyway. You had been there all your life.

Now… you had that chance. The chance to run.

Looking up at the two men, tears of both fear and hope filling your eyes, and you nodded.

“Alright.”

The three of you managed to get out of the city wall before nightfall, but were forced to camp outside mere feet from it. The two men had set up a small but charming tent for you to use, though they themselves would be sleeping outside. As they went about setting up the camp, building the fire, and cooking an evening meal, you sat there for the first time with nothing in your hands, unsure of what to do.

“Can I help with something?” You asked them.

Rourke smiled at you kindly. “No, Ms. Margaret, we’ve got it well in hand. You rest your bones for a little while. We’ll take care of this.”

Sitting still felt unnatural, but you sat and watched them bustle around. As David stirred the pot over the fire, Rourke retrieved a jar from his bags and came close. You resisted the urge to back away.

“May I sit with you, Ms. Margaret?” He asked. When you nodded, he sat on an upturned log next to you. “This is an ointment our stronghold’s medicine woman made. It’s magic on bruises. Would you mind if I applied a little? That black eye looks nasty.”

“Oh,” You said, looking down to hide behind your hair a little. “Yes, alright.”

“Look up for me, Ms. Margaret,” He said gently.

Carefully, he pulled your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ears. You looked up, surprised by how close he was. This close, you could see he had the prettiest deep brown eyes, glittering like stars in the flickering firelight. They were the same color as clean tilled earth, or savory soup that nourishes the body and soul, or a warm blanket of wool that keeps out the winter chill. They reminded you of every comforting thing you’d ever experienced in your lifetime. You found yourself blushing as those thoughts filled your head, trying to put them out of mind.

“I’m surprised you have a grown child, Ms. Margaret,” Rourke said. You assumed he was attempting to make small talk.

“Why’s that?”

“You look far too young. How old are you, if I might ask?”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?”

“Is it?” He asked, tilting his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. That’s not something orc women care about. In fact, orc women like to brag about their age. Each year they live is a year they beat death. As much as we cherish the idea of dying honorably in battle, we also really like bragging.”

You laughed. “I’m thirty-three.”

“So young!” He said. “You were still just a girl when Mis Catherine was born, eh?”

Your smile faded. “Fifteen, yes.”

He clicked his tongue. “Far too young. I’m amazed you were able to raise a babe when you were hardly more than a babe yourself.”

“Why, how old are you?”

“Fifty-two.”

You pulled back to look at his face. “You're one to talk about not looking one’s age! You barely look out of your thirties! I can’t believe you’re almost twenty years older than I am.”

He laughed. “Well, thank you for the compliment. My daughter complains that we look much more like siblings than parent and child, but I don’t know if that’s a compliment for me or self-deprecation for her.”

“You have a daughter?”

“Oh, yes,” Rourke said. “Just about the same age as Miss Catherine, in fact. She’s my pride and joy. Lost her mother when she was young, so it’s just been me and her ever since then.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright, Ms. Margaret. It was long ago now.”

“Still. You have my sincerest sympathies.”

“I appreciate it. This is pretty bad, by the way,” Rourke said, wincing in sympathy as he applied the ointment to your eye. “What happened?”

“Oh, I…” You looked down and away, careful not to tilt your head out of his reach. “I… it… just happened.”

He paused momentarily before continuing, regarding you soberly.

“Does it ‘just happen’ often?” He asked softly.

“I… I’m a poor worker,” You said quietly. “I’m too slow and lazy, so… I require more… correction than the others do.”

He spread a little of the ointment on the split in your lip, his touch feather soft, before he sat back and gazed at you.

“I can’t claim you know you or your work ethic, Ms. Margaret,” He said. “But no one deserves this kind of punishment. That I do know.”

You looked down and didn’t respond.

Rourke sighed. “Do you know how to ride a horse?”

You looked back up at him. “No.”

“I thought so. We brought two horses with us, two of the fastest in the stronghold, but it seems like you’ll have to ride with one of us. Is that alright?”

You nodded. “That’s fine. I just want to get back to my baby.”

“She’s a lucky lady, to have a mother like you,” Rourke said with a smile. “She’ll be happy to see you. It’ll be a nice surprise.”

“She doesn’t know I’m coming?” You asked.

Rourke shook his head, his long ears waggling. “The Count tried to make Chief Akjan believe that Miss Catherine was a legitimate daughter of his, but Chief Akjan had a feeling there was more to the story than he was told, so he had us do some investigating.” He motioned at David. “David realized the true story from listening to the manor’s gossip. After observing you and sending word back, Akjan sent me to retrieve David and see if you were willing to make the journey with us. Although…” He glanced at your face again and sighed. “Seeing how bad things are, I shouldn’t have delayed so long. I should have been here sooner. I apologize for that.” Rourke took a bowl from David and handed it to you. “Here. David’s not a great cook, but it’ll be better than twigs, certainly.”

“I cook better than you, you lout!” David said indignantly.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

Well, he hadn’t been lying: the meal was a little rough, basically just jerky boiled in water, but it was filling enough and made you feel warm inside.

“We should sleep early,” Rourke said, holding his hand out to help you stand. “We’ll be getting up before dawn to go pick up the horses and start toward the stronghold.”

“You didn’t have to put up a tent for me, I can sleep on the ground,” You told him, looking inside. It was just a bedroll on top of a riding blanket, but it looked charming and comfortable.

“Nonsense!” Rourke said. “I’d never made a lady sleep on the cold, hard ground! No, no, you get in there and get comfy, I’ll be right outside keeping watch. Get yourself some rest, Ms. Margaret. Goodnight.”

Ducking into the tent, you laid your tired body down on the bed and covered yourself, the aches in your body intensifying as you tried to relax. Once he saw that you were in the bed and down for the night, Rourke stationed himself at the mouth of the tent, his back to you, having a muted conversation with David that you couldn’t make sense of. Despite being outside of the city walls for the first time in your life and headed toward an uncertain future, seeing Rourke’s back blocking out the dangers of the world made you feel a strange sense of security. Almost immediately, you fell asleep.

They managed to make a trip that would normally take two weeks in a mere five days. They rode pretty hard for the first few days, though Margaret needed several breaks throughout the days in order to recover, since horse riding when you weren’t used to it could be quite punishing on the body. She was eternally grateful for that bruise ointment, which Rourke had gifted her.

Margaret rode with Rourke for most of the trip, since his horse was larger, but being in close proximity with men made her wildly uncomfortable. She simply had to swallow down her discomfort to make it to the end.

For Catherine, She kept telling herself. I can do it for Catherine.

They eventually arrived in a town bustling with activity. It wasn’t anywhere close to being as busy as the city, but it was more lively and less noisy. Riding straight up the middle lane, they reached a tall wall made of wooden pikes and a large gate with sentries patrolling the top.

“Here we are,” Rouke said. “Welcome to the Willowshield stronghold.”

“Catherine is inside?” You asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Rourke replied. “She’s just inside.”

Hope and expectation welled up in your chest. “She’s just inside,” You repeated softly.

Rourke chuckled a little, his breath stirring your hair. “Not long now.”

The doors of the gate opened slowly, and the interior of the stronghold revealed itself. There were cottages dotting the landscape, with two long bunkhouses to the left and right, a large building at the top of the hill, and in the very center right beyond the gates, a longhouse that seemed to serve as a town hall. The stronghold was just as bustling as the town outside, and despite being a closed community, it was far more inviting than any place you’d been yet.

“We must report in to Chief Akjan,” Rourke said as he jumped down from the horse. He reached up to help you down, and then handed off the reins of the horse to a waiting horseboy. You were surprised that orcs had horseboys. “But you’ll be able to see your little girl right after.”

You nodded and allowed Rourke to lead you into the longhouse. There, a large orc sat in the chair in the center of the room at the end of the fire trench. He wore a leather kilt, furs on his shoulders, and various leather straps. He was talking to David, who walked right up to an orc woman with a baby on her hip and gave her a long, deep kiss. You blushed.

“Chief Akjan,” Rourke said. “She’s here.”

“Ah, good,” Chief Akjan said, standing up and towering over you. Where Rourke was tall and lean as a whip, Chief Akjan was broad and massively muscled. “Are you Margaret?”

You tried to answer, but your voice came out as a squeak. Clearing your throat, you replied, “Yes, I am.”

Chief Akjan nodded. “Good. I’m glad you’re here. Catherine will be happy to see you.”

“If you’ll pardon me, Sir,” You asked him shyly. “You’re the one married to Catherine, aren’t you?”

Chief Akjan shrugged. “Yes and no,” He replied. “We have a contract, but it can be revoked at any moment. She’s under no obligation to stay with me, nor am I beholden to her. We may part ways as friends whenever we wish.”

Your head rocked back in surprise; you’d never heard of an arrangement like that before.

“Is she well?”

“Better than she was at the Count’s estate, I’d wager,” He said, snorting, but upon seeing your anxious face, he answered more seriously. “She’s just fine, ma’am. We’ve been taking good care of her, I swear to you. Shall I fetch her for you?”

“Oh, please do,” You begged. “I’m so anxious to see her.”

“I’ll return shortly, then. Wait here.”

Chief Akjan turned and exited through a side door, and you rung your hands in anticipation, resisting the urge to bounce on your heels like a child.

“Excited?” Rourke asked, smiling.

“I just want to be sure she’s alright,” You said. “I can endure anything if my child is happy.”

Rourke’s smile widened in a fond way. “You’re a good mama.”

You blushed and looked away.

“Hopefully, you won’t have to endure anything from now on,” Rourke said, pointing. “Look alive.”

“Mother!”

You spun on your heel, elated. Catherine was standing there, looking healthier and brighter than you had ever seen her, wearing simple but well-made clothing, and every ounce of anxiety in your body evaporated.

“My baby!” You exclaimed, running forward to throw your arms around her. “Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry!”

She clutched you, quietly crying into your hair. Oh, you had missed her so.

“It’s alright, Mother. Are you alright?” She asked, pulling back to look at the fading bruises on your face. They were almost gone, but the presence of them surely made Catherine feel worried. You could see it on her face.

“I’m fine, honey, I’m just fine,” You insisted. “David and Rourke have been taking good care of me.”

She released you and looked at the men you had pointed to. “They have? What do you mean? How did you get here?”

“I sent them to collect her,” Akjan said, stepping forward. “I had a feeling there was more to the story that you and the Count hadn't told me, so I sent David to do some reconnaissance. It didn’t take long for the full story to reveal itself, so I sent Rourke to retrieve her. Problem solved.”

Catherine’s face showed worry, relief, and a little bit of disappointment. “Thank you, Akjan. I will be in your debt for as long as I live. Are you going to send us to Willowridge?”

He shook his head grimly, crossing his arms. “No. We know that the Count must be aware that your mother has disappeared by now and may have guessed the stronghold’s involvement. Our intelligence suggests he’s gathering soldiers to march on Willowshield to either get his horse deal or take you and your mother back. It’ll be safer for you and your mother to stay within the walls of the stronghold.”

Catherine’s hand went to her mouth in shock. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize the Count would cause this much trouble for you.”

Akjan shrugged, as though an invasion by a noble was no cause for concern.

“We’ve been attacked for far less. Don’t worry, it won’t be an issue.” He addressed you directly. “Welcome to Willowshield, madam.”

You bowed your head and nodded shyly. “Thank you very much, Chief Akjan.”

"Rourke, have the girls show Ms. Margaret to the bunkhouse."

Rourke nodded. “This way, Ms. Margaret. Miss Catherine will join you shortly. She and the Chief need to have a heart to heart.” He began guiding you toward the back door and outside.

“Is she in trouble?” You asked fretfully, allowing yourself to be led.

“Not at all! Just some husband and wife business, that’s all. Never you worry.”

You weren’t sure about that, but you had no choice but to believe him. Rourke had been positively enthusiastic since the moment you met him, upfront and honest and the picture of gentlemanly chivalry. His open and friendly nature had gotten past your inner defenses, and you’d go so far as to consider him something of a friend. David was good natured and friendly as well, but you’d never felt as close to him as you ended up feeling to Rourke. There was just something about Rourke that wouldn’t allow you to ignore him.

Rourke led you to a communal pavilion where there were several women doing fiber arts, weaving and spinning and knitting. One of them, a tall woman in trousers, stood up and came close.

“Ms. Margaret, this is Erin, Chief Akjan’s sister-in-law,” He said. “She’ll take care of you until Miss Catherine finishes up with the chief.”

“Ah, you’re Miss Catherine’s mama!” Erin said, holding out her hand. “So good to meet you! We’ve been waiting for you.”

You took her hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Erin.”

“Oh, she’s just like Miss Catherine,” Erin said. “Shy and sweet. They’ll love you around here.”

“Hey!” Rourke said in a warning tone. Erin raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t respond. Clearing his throat, Rourke turned to you. “I have to give a debrief to the chief and report to my superior now. If you should ever need me for anything, my normal job is as a gate guard, so if you go down to the gate and ask for me, I’ll be at your disposal. Any time. Alright?”

You nodded. “Alright.”

He seemed reluctant to leave, but he started walking backwards.

“Until then.”

You smiled. “Until then.”

With a bright parting grin, he turned and trotted off, his long braid swinging back and forth.

“My goodness,” Erin said. “You and Miss Catherine certainly have a way about you, don’t you?”

You tilted your head in confusion. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

Erin shook her head and laughed. “It’s nothing. Let’s get you set up with a bunk. Things are about to get… busy soon.”

The way she phrased that made you feel a little tense, but she pulled you forward to meet the other women in the group, all of whom were welcoming and kind. Erin took you up to the bunkhouse, where you claimed two beds, one for you and one for Catherine. Erin informed you that, now that you had arrived and the Count had nothing to hold over her, Chief Akjan and Catherine no longer needed to keep up appearances and the marriage would be dissolved. Worried, you asked if that meant that she’d be kicked out, but Erin assured you that wasn’t the case.

“The chief wouldn’t do that,” Erin said. She leaned in and whispered, “Between you and me, Akjan likes her too much to send her away. My prediction is that they won’t be apart for long.”

“Oh,” You said, surprised.

Erin laughed. “Come on, she’d be done with the chief now, let’s collect her and catch up. I’m sure she’s dying to tell you everything.”

Allowing yourself to be dragged back to the pavilion, you saw Catherine standing there, looking around for you, and smiled. For the first time in your life, you felt like you were right where you were meant to be.

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lostfirefly · 1 month

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Bugust. Day 23. "Jester." Buggy x Reader (you must be surprised that this story is not about Buggy and Catherine 😄), SFW + NSFW, MDNI. English isn't my native language, errors may occur.

"Well, Buggy the Clown, tell me what you saw." You asked, pouring yourself a glass of wine.

"Nothing special. Water and drunk men on a ship." Buggy took a sip of beer, looking at you. "By the way, I brought you a present."

"What kind of present?" You narrowed your eyes and looked around.

The dimly-lit bar was buzzing with the high chatter of patrons and the clinking of glasses as you and Buggy settled into your usual spot, the same table where you had first crossed paths just a couple of months prior. The air was thick with the familiar scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke, but the comfortable atmosphere and the warmth of the amber liquid in your tumblers made it easy to forget the gritty details of the outside world. You sat into the worn, leather-upholstered seats, your eyes met with a familiar spark, the same one that had drawn to this place and to each other in the first place. Without a word, an unspoken understanding passed between you - this was your sanctuary, your secret hideaway where the rest of the world faded away, and it was in this cozy corner that you could be your truest selves.

Buggy pulled a velvet box out of his pocket. "It's just... a trinket. But I thought about you when I saw it."

"You thought about me? I'm impressed. Let's see what's in there." You rubbed your hands together happily and carefully opened the lid. "Oh my God! How beautiful!" You pulled out a blue willow branch barrette.

It was obvious to you that it was no mass-produced accessory, but a unique, handmade piece infused with the character of the tree from which it was born. And Buggy brought it for you.

"Handmade?" You watched him nod. "That's amazing! Thank you so much, Buggy!" You pecked him on his cheek, watching him blush. "You know, I never thought I'd have a pirate friend who would bring me such beauty." You immediately pinned the clip to your hair. "I think it suits me." You giggled.

The hours flew by in a blur of laughter and shared stories in the time you haven't seen each other, and before you knew it, the bartender was calling last orders. Reluctant to part ways, a subtle tension began to build between you and Buggy. You felt it. You saw it. The way his gaze lingered, the gentle brush of his hand against yours - it was electric, undeniable. As you stepped out into the cool night air, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, the space crackling with an unspoken, almost magnetic pull.

Buggy may have been a pirate, but he was a gentleman. He walked you home, breaking the growing tension with his stories of his adventures. You couldn't bear the thought of this night ending, not yet, not when there was still so much left unsaid, so many uncharted possibilities waiting to be.

"Thank you for the evening, my genius jester. I haven't laughed so much in a long time. And thanks again for the gift." You lightly punched him in the shoulder as you stood on the porch of your house.

"It was a good thing to do, Y/N." Buggy cleared his throat. "Thank you for the evening, too. I.. I.. I kinda missed our talks."

You noticed. You noticed how his gaze locked with yours, intense and captivating. At that moment, Buggy seemed completely unaware as his hand slowly drifted down, coming to rest gently atop your own. The simple touch sent electric shivers racing through you, emanating from where your skin met, pulsing outward until it felt like the sensation was radiating from your eyes. You were hyper-aware of Buggy's proximity, the warmth of his body drawing you in as if by an invisible force. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he leaned closer, his movements unhurried yet purposeful. Then, ever so tenderly, Buggy's lips met yours in a kiss that was both achingly soft and charged with an undercurrent of barely-restrained passion.

"Finally!!" You kissed him back with equal passion, running your hands down from his shoulders to his chest.

Buggy chuckled his signature laugh. "And I was about to be sad that I had to give up dessert. This cake is better, Y/N." He whispered through his kisses.

"Agree." Your breath caught in your throat as his hot, insistent lips trailed delicate kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck.

You fumbled with the zipper of your purse, fingers trembling, desperate to find your keys amidst the clutter inside. But your focus was shattered, your thoughts consumed by the pleasure of Buggy's touch. His strong hands grasped your waist, pulling you flush against his firm body, leaving you powerless to resist. The world fell away, narrowing to just the two of you in this heated moment, your inhibitions melting under the scorching intensity of his embrace. Part of you knew you should put a stop to this, that you needed to leave before things went too far. But his mouth on your skin sent electric shocks of desire coursing through your second part of your mind, making rational thought nearly impossible. All you could think about was the tantalizing friction of his body against yours and the urgent need to lose yourself in his passionate kisses.

You opened the door to the house and practically pushed Buggy in.

"You could have kissed me a week ago, idiot." You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him again.

"How was I supposed to know you wanted this?" Buggy mumbled, barely removing his lips from yours.

"I gave you a thousand signals!" You grabbed his coat and dragged him into the bedroom. "And you just walked me home and went away."

"Signal better next time, baby."

"You can't run away from me now, Buggy the Clown." You pulled him into the bedroom. "I want to finally get what's mine."

"You can't say things like that, Y/N."

"It's my bedroom, I can say what I want, jerk." You narrowed your eyes and kissed him.

"Shut up, please!" He mumbled throught the kiss. "I'm savoring the moment."

Buggy's hand rested gently on your back as the other hand slowly unzipped the back of your dress, the zipper sliding down with a satisfying sound.

After a brief pause, your lips parted with a soft, audible smack. Glancing up, you found Buggy's usually bright, green eyes now half-lidded and piercing, focused not on your face, but tracing down your body. Feeling agitated, you swiftly looked away and covered your mouth with your hand that had been resting on his chest, attempting to conceal the warmth that was rising on your cheeks. Buggy's eyes remained fixed on you, and you felt his hands gently tugging at the shoulders of your dress.

Your skin is caressed by Buggy's warm hands as he gradually removed the sleeves, exposing your bare back and shoulders. He looked closely at your freshly bared, perfect skin. You shifted your arms and took off the last sleeve yourself, putting your hands on his shoulders and chest. You leaned in to give him a tender kiss, but then you tensed up as his powerful hands quickly pull down the remainder of your dress, leaving it puddled on the bedroom floor.

Buggy removed his vest, and you tossed it off to the side.

"Better than I even imagine." You chuckled, afraid to admit that you'd imagined him shirtless before.

"I could say the same thing about you, my baby girl." Buggy began kissing the most delicate parts of your neck while you quickly kicked off your sneakers.

Buggy grazed his teeth along your jawline, his lips latching onto your earlobe, leaving a thin red lipstick line on your skin. He moved his lips down your neck. He focused on the soft skin and slight protrusion of bone, biting and licking as he hums against your skin.

"Holy shit!" You gasped, your fingers tangling in his long blue hair. "Don't stop."

With deft fingers, Buggy unhooked your bra and loosened the clasps. He carefully withdrew the two ends of the cloth from behind you, taking off your bra's straps. As heat began to blossom in your cheeks, shoulders, and chest, a flush began to creep across your skin. As Buggy glanced at you, your hands trembled and your lungs quickened. You then heard it. The air filled with the sound of his pants unclasping and the zipper sliding down. He shifted his weight, kicking the pants aside and sliding them off his slender frame.

"Jesus Christ!" You ran your hands through his blue chest hair.

Buggy leaned in to kiss you and ran his hands over your stomach.

“Don't waste the time, my handsome jester. I'm ready for you." You said quietly. "Please." You grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him on the bed. "I need you right now."

"Notice, baby, I'm not the one who said that." Buggy smirked and slowly entered you.

You could feel the delicious sensation of him filling you up, inch by inch. Your breath caught in your throat as the feeling of him inside you overwhelmed your senses. You pulled Buggy in closer, reveling in the intimate connection as your bodies joined as one. With his each gentle thrust, waves of pleasure rippled through you, and you let out a deep, guttural moan. The pace soon quickened, Buggy's hips pistoning back and forth as he pounded into you harder and rougher.

"Oh sh-- Fu-- me!" You moaned. "Please! Deeper!" You was completely lost in the moment, consumed by the primal need and carnal desire that consumed you both.

The sound of your bodies colliding and our ragged breathing filled the air, fueling the growing heat and tension between us.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're so good." Buggy said in a low voice, picking up his pace.

"Yes, I'm." You giggled, biting your bottom lip. "Don't stop. I'm begging you."

"I won't."

Every Buggy's thrust sent shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, leaving you breathless and aching for more. The intensity built until you thought you might shatter from the sheer force of our coupling, your cries of pleasure echoing through the room.

As Buggy pressed himself deeper inside you, the sensations became almost overwhelming. With each powerful thrust, you could feel the tension building, your bodies moving in perfect sync as you neared the precipice of ecstasy.

"More, please. Don't stop. I want you, Bug--" You dug your fingers into the firm muscles of Buggy's back, your nails leaving marks as you clung to him, your moans growing louder and more desperate with every movement.

The world seemed to fade away, narrowing down to just the two of you, joined together in a primal dance of passion. One more thrust, and you thought you might shatter into a million pieces from the sheer intensity of it all. One more hard thrust, and with a guttural growl, Buggy buried his face in the crook of your neck, moaning your name as he found his own release, triggering your own wave of earthshattering ecstasy that washed over you both. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of you, intimately connected and completely lost in the throes of carnal bliss.

As the final, powerful thrust reverberated through your bodies, Buggy collapsed down onto you, his heavy, sweat-slicked frame pressing against yours as he struggled to catch his ragged breath.

"You okay?" You said quetly, trying to regain your breath.

Buggy nodded.

"Oh, my God, I didn't even think it would be this good!!" You giggled. "Why didn't we do this before?!"

"I don't know, baby." Buggy laughed. "We've lost a lot, right?"

"Yeah. You know, next time when you'll be in town, we should do it again." You kissed him on the head. “I mean.. You can sleep with anyone on the seas and diffferent islands of course, but not on this island. No, no! That's my territory. You'll only sleep with me. Understood?"

“Can I.. Can I always do it only with you?” Buggy asked softly, trying to hide a smile at the feel of your hands on his back. “Well, I mean… You know. Kind of like you and me… You know, just having fun with each other.”

“Why not. Just you and me, right? Sounds great. Oh! Can I come to meet you up at the harbor next time?” You started running your fingers through his hair. "Well, because, uh. This is my island. You and me. You know.."

"Yeah. Why not? Sounds amazing." He nodded.

“Great.” You kissed the top of his head again and ran your fingers over his neck. “Buggy…”

“What?”

“I think I like you.”

“I think I like you too, Y/N.”

#buggy the clown #one piece #opla buggy x you #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x reader #lostfirefly pretends to be a writer #fucking nonsense #one piece buggy #buggy smut #bugust #one piece smut #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x you

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setokaibapetty · 5 months

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5 + 1 Fic Friday Roundup: Surprise Relative

Some fics where a surpise blood relation pops up. Like, sometimes the guy who raised you was lying about being your dad, sometimes a Pit gives you a baby, etc.

Imprint (AO3) - "He screwed his eyes shut, held his breath, desperately wished that he was back in his safehouse, alone and blissfully unaware. But the weight in his hands remained, and when he opened his eyes, it was to the bean-shaped 'fuck you' the Lazarus Pit had kindly bestowed upon him, arms and legs folded up against his front beneath off-white muslin while tiny lips smacked softly.'

Red Blood, Blue Blood (AO3) - "Jason Todd was living a very ordinary life in Crime Alley before his mother gets sick. Then, suddenly, Jason and Catherine have to grapple with the secret everyone has known since Jason was born with black hair and blue eyes—Willis Todd wasn't his biological father. Bruce Wayne is, and not only is he the richest man in Gotham, he has three other children who may not be glad to have an interloper in their midst."

Going Off-Book (AO3) - "Dick winces. “Tim, meet Damian Wayne. Apparently, his mom told him who his dad was when he turned eighteen and the first thing he did after finding out was enroll in the nearest police academy. He served for a couple of years and just arranged a transfer here from Metropolis.” He directs a pleading gaze at Tim. “Like I said, Bruce had to go out of town for a while, but he asked me to show Damian the ropes. Tim, I’m sorry, but—"

when the dead tree flowers (AO3) - "It wasn't solely Jango Fett's DNA that went into making Domino Squad. Palpatine had other plans for them. Thankfully, so does their second genetic donor, and he has just as few qualms about murder as a Sith Lord."

Open Arms (AO3) - "The story starts when Quinlan get's a call from the hospital; an old girlfriend has given birth and named him the father, leaving the baby at the hospital. This triggers a series of events that bring Fox back into contact with his bio family, who he is not as distant from as he might like to think."

Bonus: welcome all your bastard actions home (AO3) - "Daenerys had arrived at Winterfell three days past, a great host of dragons and roses and suns and krakens, clearly expecting Jon -- the King in the North, as uneasy that title rests on his shoulders -- to bend the knee. Instead, he takes her to the crypts to speak of ancient history."

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henry-fox-biggest-stan · 2 years

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Rating Austen’s first lines (this is a rating of the lines, not the books) (rated based on my thoughts of when I read them for the first time, unaware of what happens later)

1. Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her. — Emma

Iconic. Makes you wanna be her in just one paragraph.

2. No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy, would have supposed her born to be an heroine. — Northanger Abbey

I love this one, I don’t know why

3. A gentleman and a lady travelling from Tunbridge towards that part of the Sussex coast which lies between Hastings and Eastbourne, being induced by business to quit the high road and attempt a very rough lane, were overturned in toiling up its long ascent, half rock, half sand. — Sanditon

Pulls you right in.

4. It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. — Pride & Prejudice

It’s a classic.

5. The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex. — Sense & Sensibility

Straight to the point.

6. The first winter assembly in the town of D. in Surrey was to be held on Tuesday, October 13th and it was generally expected to be a very good one. — The Watsons

I hope it was.

7. About thirty years ago Miss Maria Ward, of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds, had the good luck to captivate Sir Thomas Bertram, of Mansfield Park, in the county of Northampton, and to be thereby raised to the rank of a baronet's lady, with all the comforts and consequences of an handsome house and large income. — Mansfield Park

Good for her.

8. My dear brother,—I can no longer refuse myself the pleasure of profiting by your kind invitation when we last parted of spending some weeks with you at Churchhill, and, therefore, if quite convenient to you and Mrs. Vernon to receive me at present, I shall hope within a few days to be introduced to a sister whom I have so long desired to be acquainted with. — Lady Susan

Not the worst.

9. Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch Hall, in Somerset, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage; there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed one; there his faculties were roused into admiration and respect, by contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest patents; there any unwelcome sensations, arising from domestic affairs, changed naturally into pity and contempt as he turned over the almost endless creations of the last century; and there, if every other leaf were powerless, he could read his own history with an interest which never failed. — Persuasion

Didn’t ask about Sir Walter Elliot’s passion for monarchy.

#jane austen #emma woodhouse #emma jane austen #northanger abbey #sanditon #pride and prejudice #pride & prejudice #sense & sensibility #sense and sensibility #the watsons #mansfield park #lady susan #persuasion

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reshramlove1ob · 23 days

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My sister reacts to Dislyte characters. Oh yeah, remember she’s very young still. Child she is

Bai Liuli: she sorta likes her, but she doesn’t like her hairstyle.

Yun Chuan: She sorta likes him, but she thinks he looks like Ryder from Paw Patrol.

Nicole: She reminds her of golden cheese cookie, unaware if that’s good or bad

Liam: Absolutely adored him. Called him awesome.

Catherine: She likes her, but she wants to know why she’s “so sad.”

Kara: She likes her, for her scorpion hair and her sharp teeth.

Anesidora: She also likes her, but was giggling about her being bald.

Farrah: She wouldn’t elaborate further than ocean.

Elif: she likes her, but thought she had two faces.

Bardon: She wants him and Farrah to kiss?? For some reason?? Ok. Whatever.

Embla: She said she was eh. She was confused by her flowers on her body.

Leora: Called her weird and told me to go back to someone she liked.

Also, if anyone is curious, her downright favorite is Tang Yun because he is the six eared macaque. She stared at him for like ten minutes after we finished this.

#dislyte #she talks #RESHY SISTER 🥶

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iguessthisisanewobsession · 2 years

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“Do you want to dance?”

Damian looked up from his perch on the the building’s ledge at the voice that startled him.

Lazarus eyes and white hair that flickered candle at the tips. He gently swayed in the air to the song the band on the stage set high above the park.

When the family had heard rumors early in October of a city wide haunted party that was to take place on Halloween night, they were all on high alert.

The thought of the dead being brought back and raising hell on the streets constantly on mind and in the possibility of rouges ruining the night close behind.

Until they met Phantom.

“It seems that the party is what one would call a success.”

Danny hummed as he joined the bird on the rooftop,

“Thank the ancients for that. Has there been anything suspicious?”

“Nothing abnormal,”

Damian glanced at his family participating in the crowds. Richard swung from Greyson to Greyson, with each twirl and flip through the air a smile graced his face. The three Greysons once again in the air together.

“though with how badly you intimidated the villains I can not particularly blame them for mostly hiding away.”

Danny snickered as Damian found Jason twirling around one who he could assume to be Catherine Todd looking like a fool.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? Being the King of all afterlife has some perks.”

The young king sighed as another song came to a close,

“But seriously, why aren’t you having fun? We worked out butts off to have tonight go down flawlessly yet you haven’t joined the rest.”

The Drakes were chatting to the side under an elm, the faint glow of the Specters bounced off the old camera around his neck.

Come morning the prints would most likely deteriorate into nothing but blurs but the sentiment was there.

“So,” Danny cocked his head to the side “penny for your thoughts?”

Bruce waltzed with Damian’s grandparents with this adoration in his eyes that made Damian look away, into the eyes of the silent monarch.

“It just felt.. crass for me to join the festivities. I was an assassin, a trained killer once. I have blood on my hands and I did not want to cause a stir.”

“You act as though you are the only person here tonight that has blood on your hands. In your family alone assassin trained in not an minority.”

“Even still, I am not clean, I have killed hundreds and still have troubles holding myself back at times, it could cause unnecessary stress on your subjects,”

Damian sighed,

“before my father’s absence the only death I had encountered were the targets and the people who ‘failed’ in the league for one reason or another. I never had to grieve, and those who I know that perished most likely would not have been allowed in this visit anyways.”

“Even still, there is no reason to mope. You can’t help who you come from little birdy. What matters is that you have came to terms with your past actions are are working hard to make up for them.”

Damian glanced back to the ghost as he felt a cold hand mesh with his.

Surprisingly, he did not seem to mind.

The two sat like that in silence as the gleeful participants continued on unaware.

“You know, for what it’s worth… I have had a blast in Gotham with you these last few weeks. If the high king of the infinite realm can look over your upbringing than I think you might be selling yourself short Robin.

“Damian,”

“Oh?”

“My- my name is Damian.”

The ghost let out in an unnecessary breath before a gentle smile graced his lips,

“Alright Damian, my name is Danny. Would you care for a dance?”

Put your head on my shoulder

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falsenote · 1 month

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what is truly most joyful about this film is scenes like this. the constant gay teasing throughout the plot towards robert hossein's character hits at exactly where it should bc the source of the joke isn't the spectre of homosexuality itself but how much of a ridiculous terror he experiences each time. there are a few things to be said about this character, but it all comes down to his patriotic military persona he is trying to insist on desperately, being as much of a facade and hollow performance as his masculinity itself. it is such an absurd, hysterical dynamic when catherine spaak and tomas milian's characters spot this insecurity and annoy him about it just for the sake of it. bc spaak, to his knowledge, is supposed to be man but is really a woman all along (or is she), so when there is some sort of attraction building between them, she notices this and goes out of her way to create situations where he would have to address his attraction to her, believing himself to be gay since she is a boy, of course. these little scenes leave him so humiliated, and her, in control and amused at the situation, not bc how could he be so stupid he doesn't realize ~the truth (?), -since in this narrative we have to suspend our disbelief anyway and accept that catherine spaak is made to look in any way boyish in her appearance- but he is ridiculous bc he insists so much on a set way of seeing the world. bc her and milian's characters exist completely outside of this norm he is representing and they are the ones ridiculing *him* for clinging so much to it, it's like he's in the minority in the film's narrative. it is to be noted that when the final reveal happens and catherine spaak wears a dress instead of a uniform and tells him of being a woman and being in love w him as well, robert hossein keeps calling her as her 'boy name', theodore, even after their final kiss. it's not the person who has changed, from "man to woman" but only a dress was put on. there is also the fact to be noted here is that catherine spaak never once says, 'i will use this boy name as an alias bc circumstances demand it' she says, 'i am now theodore and i wish to be called that and be a man from now on'. it is completely insane.

^while on the note of clown behaviour and gay jokes, the tomas milian's subplot is practically that he also falls in love w catherine spaak (only bc she wears men's clothing which is so so funny and there really should be a fucking dissertation about clothes as a symbol in this film bc it is relatively so simple and yet says it all) and she does reveal to him that she is technically a woman which does not change his feelings (they said here's how bisexuality can still win) but when other, unaware characters question why he is in love w another man he simply does not correct them. why? because he is insane and also bc just as catherine spaak does w robert hossein, he literally just enjoys shocking ppl with the concept of homosexuality. and this is how you make a fun gay film.

#Mademoiselle de Maupin #Madamigella di Maupin #mauro bolognini

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bethanydelleman · 8 months

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Very, VERY minor

Context Below:

The young son of the Lucas family who says if he is was as rich as Darcy he'd drink a bottle of wine a day.

Unnamed woman who blocks Darcy from sitting beside Elizabeth post Lydia.

Baddeley is the butler, he clearly has beef with Mrs. Norris and it's funny.

Dick Jackson was going to "steal" some dinner according to Mrs. Norris and she made him cry.

Edward and then Robert's prospective fiance, according to Mrs. Ferrars

Robert threw all his building plans into the fire (allegedly) and told him to build a cottage

John Thorpe didn't want to drive around his sisters!

Sarah Morland is the one who says Henry doesn't need directions to the Allens even though he's clearly trying to get Catherine alone.

None of these last 4 characters appear on page but I think their descriptions should suffice. Dick Musgrove is the son who died at sea and was at one point under Captain Wentworth.

#polls #jane austen #pride & prejudice #mansfield park #northanger abbey #sense and sensibility #emma #persuasion

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pruneunfair · 15 days

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Manhwa characters X Henry VIII and the six wives crossover.

of course this isn't going to line up with the real history, they'll simply be put into the roles they suit best and alternations will be made based on source material and their personalities

Henry VIII-Ceasre de como

He was never meant to inherit the throne until his brother unexpectedly passed away. The infamous bastard son who was the true cause of prince Alfonsos death believed to be a tragic result of illness. He framed the crime of poisoning the king on his mistress Ariande de mare and marries his late brothers widow as his first wife Isabella de Mare who has only been able to have one child: a girl, Princess Giovanna. Over the course of his life, King Ceasre marries a total of 6 different women and has only had 3 legitimate heirs throughout his life. During his reign, he ignited the fear and hatred of his people through execution after execution, some of the most infamous being 2 of his 6 wives. It was said that on his death bed, all the women he betrayed had haunted him, with the ringleader being his first love, Ariande de Mare

Catherine of Aragon-Isabella de Mare

Ceasres first wife, Ariandes sister and widow to prince Alfonso. After marrying for a second time small problems erupt from the queen being known as "tainted" for being another kings wife. To mediate the anger, Isabella starts to take religion even more seriously then she did in the past making herself out as a saint who redeemed herself of her sins, the public is unaware she cares very little for the death of her sister. The queen is aware of her husband's concubines and doesn't mind as she knows he would grow bored of her... until Ceasre finds a woman he can't yet have.. so she schemes to stay on the throne. She didn't help orchestrate her sisters death just so Ceasre can go as far as to violate parliament to marry another woman.

She is not remembered so fondly though after her death.

Anne Boleyn- Aria Roscent:

a common woman adopted into the house of Roscent, despite that fact she has become the talk of the town for her beauty and sharp tongue. Aria was planning on marrying her true love Oscar Frederick until she met the king who wanted her as his mistress more than anything, she tried to turn him down the best she could without facing execution, ultimately coming up with a excuse that she'd only be with Ceasre if she became the queen. To which Ceasre happily does much to the anger of queen Isabella who never would've have guessed it would be a random noblewoman instead of Ceasres favorites. Isabella fights back with the pope on her side using the argument the remarriage is reserved only those who have been widowed, this proves to be Isabellas undoing however when Ceasre shoots back with the revelation that the queen had killed her little sister years back and she would do the same to Princess Giovanna if she stayed. The divorce also leads to Ceasre founding his own church and new rules of religion so no pesky pope will stop him in the future, he marries Aria for only 3 years, during those 3 years Aria gave birth to a girl and named her Arabella to spite the former queen but her happiness is shortlived once Ceasre gets tired of her and executes her on crimes of witchcraft and attempted poisoning of his sister in law, Mielle.

Jane Seymour-Jennette Margarita

The 3rd wife Ceasre married quickly after the execution of Queen Aria. Despite her gentle care and kind attitude, the populace despised Jennette for replacing Aria as queen. Jennette is more obedient than the last two queens, going by a motto of "bound to obey and serve." So it's not surprise that Ceasre chose her to be the lucky wife to bear San Carlos desired prince. The relationship with her step-sisters isn't great either. Giovanna wants nothing to do with anymore step-moms after what happened to her mother and Arabella is still too young to even comprehend what happend to her own mother, leaving Jennette alone with the hope of her unborn child being a boy that could save her from execution. Much to Ceasres joy, Jennette does give birth to a prince Leo, but unfortunately the 3rd queen passes away just 11 days later from child bed fever.

Anne of Cleves-Adelaide Kotrov

A foreign princess from a neighboring kingdom. With a male heir finally secured, Ceasre is encouraged to marry for a political alliance, most princesses reject the offer after knowing what happened to Queen Aria but with the forceful hand of her mother, Adelaide of Kotrov is sent to become Ceasres 4th wife. The introduction doesn't go as well as planned, with Adelaide being visibly uncomfortable and annoyed with her husband's attitude. Since Ceasre can't execute a foreign noble, he never consummated the marriage and divorced Adelaide in only 6 months. Instead of becoming enemies though, Adelaide and Ceasre managed to get along just enough during those 6 months to be considered friends and Adelaide stayed in San Carlo with the reputation of the kings beloved sister. She lives her days with her lover Lionel as her true love and becomes the richest woman in all of San Carlo after Ceasre dies.

Catherine Howard- Rashta Ishka.

Ceasres 5th and youngest wife. A former slave who was saved by another Emperor and worked as a secretary for the Empress Navier. Rashta was never given a proper education so when the work turned out to be more than she could chew, Ceasre took the opportunity to take her with him to enjoy the luxuries of regal life and gave Rashta a title of Viscountess so the nobles of San Carlo wouldn't learn of her true origins. By the time they got married Ceasre was already considerably aged, his daughters have grown and Prince Leo had been getting smarter by the day. Giovanna treated her step-mom with indifference but Arabella and Leo took to their new mother well, giving Rashta a chance to heal from past traumas but her attitude can make it difficult at times as she holds grudges and doesnt easily let things go. Problems would inevitably arise , with unchecked trauma of her past, Ceasre only wanting a spare from her, pushing everyone else that could help her away, yet with her desire to feel seen at the same time. The queen gets coerced and manipulated by another man: Duke Ergi and he takes the chance to screw her over once he got what he wanted from her. Rashta was only queen for a little over a year when she was discovered to have been assaulted by one of her masters leading to a pregnancy no one knew of, and a previous fling she had with Emperor Sovieshu, combined with the rumors that she had cheated on the king, Rashta is beheaded for her crimes. Before her execution she ran after Ceasre, pleading her innocence while being pulled away.

Catherine Parr-Claudine Von Brandt

Ceasres 6th and final wife. Claudine had initially been with a few other lovers but all have either died or left her before the marriages could even happen. When she is told that she has to marry the king, Claudine naturally freaks out knowing the fates of the previous 5 wives who got divorced at best and lost their heads at worst. She learns to live her life with her aging tyrannical husband and becomes a wonderful stepmother to the kids, even Giovanna was willing to give her a chance and accept Claudine as her stepmother and queen of San Carlo after Claudine convinced Ceasre to reinsert his daughtes back into succession. There were a few close calls but Claudine survived her marriage and outlived Ceasre, but only for a year longer...

Mary I-Princess Giovanna

(There's no cannon design for Giovanna yet so I used Athy as a substitute)

The first princess born of King Ceasre and Queen Isabella. Out of all her parents failed pregnancies, Giovanna survived as a healthy child despite being a girl. Her parents treated her well enough until her father had the hots for Aria and divorced her mother. Even after learning the truth, Giovanna still considered Isabella the rightful queen even if she was left with a permanent uneasiness of her mom. For most of her time as princess afterwords, Giovanna is demoted to a lady to make room for Arias baby but despite that, Giovanna is a good big sister and doesn't blame Arabella for her mother's fate especially after the second princess is demoted to lady after Aria is executed. After her father dies, Giovanna went through hell to ensure she'd remain a queen and bring back the influence of the pope even if it means the death of the cousin used as a political pawn and the execution of just under 300 people. She dies without an heir only 5 years later.

Elizabeth I- princess Arabella

Second princess and daughter of King Ceasre and Queen Aria. Poor Arabella was already made a bastard after her mother's execution and lived her life neglected by her father and raised by her older sister. She was named after the 1st queens youngest sister and it's often noted that the princess looks an awful lot like the girl she was named after, almost like she was the reincarnated soul of Arabella de Mare. Her family life is full of nothing but troubles, even after her tyrannical father dies, she's still left in the whims of her sister as their relationship deteriorates when they got older. For years princess Arabella dodged death at every corner until Queen Giovanna passed away, giving rise for the queen no one suspected, Arabella I. She becomes the virgin queen of San Carlo, ending her father's bloodline and granting the right of heir to a cousin when she passes away as the final monarch of the house of de Como.

Edward VI- Leo IV

(Again, Leo doesn't have a design since he's an OC so young Ceasre will be a substitute)

The long sought after male heir Ceasre had been waiting for and the son of Queen Jennette, he takes after his father in terms of appearance too! As such Leo was raised differently then his sisters and was pushed to the bone since he was the only shot they had for a future king of the de Como bloodline. When Leo became king at the young age of 9, he was easily influenced by the adults and advisors in his life to control the country how they wanted to. He's just a kid and already the people think he'll just turn out to be like his father. Despite how much he loves his sisters, they disagree on religion and in an attempt to keep Giovanna from bringing back influence of the pope, he selects a cousin as his heir just before he dies young, he can finally meet the mother he's never known...

Other characters below:

Prince Arthur- Alfonso de Carlo

Jane Boleyn- Mielle Roscent

George Boleyn- Cain Roscent

Mary Boleyn- Larissa De Balloa

Thomas Culpeper- Duke Ergi

#henry viii #the six wives of henry viii #catherine of aragon #anne boleyn #jane seymour #anne of cleves #catherine howard #catherine parr #the remarried empress #sister i am the queen in this life #who made me a princess #i abdicate my title of empress #the villainess reverses the hourglass #tudor history #the tudors #cry or better yet beg

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youthofpandas · 6 months

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Cathy and The Mirror; what's up with that?

spoilers for Part 1 (and only part 1) ahead!

Okay so Catherine and her mirror has been on my mind nonstop since I finished Part 1. Quick recap, after falling into a near madness like depression after marrying Linton, one day she is back to normal (mostly) just like that. We see in her diary that at some point she was visited by a 'guest' and after that was able to clear her head and see her reflection again normally. It's unclear when exactly this happens in relation to Linton's gift of a flower that Nelly says was the point Cathy's illness went away, but given the fact Nelly was unaware of the diary, I think that these two events were relatively close to each other.

This bit is inspired by the point in the book when Catherine came down with a similar sort of illness after Edgar attempts her to have her pick between their relationship continuing and her friendship with Heathcliff. The thought of being forced to give up one terrifies and upsets her, and she stops eating and locks herself in her room. When Nelly checks on her, she cannot recognize herself in the mirror.

“Don’t you see that face?” she inquired, gazing earnestly at the mirror. And say what I could, I was incapable of making her comprehend it to be her own; so I rose and covered it with a shawl. “It’s behind there still!” she pursued, anxiously. “And it stirred. Who is it? I hope it will not come out when you are gone! Oh! Nelly, the room is haunted! I’m afraid of being alone!” I took her hand in mine, and bid her be composed; for a succession of shudders convulsed her frame, and she would keep straining her gaze towards the glass. “There’s nobody here!” I insisted. “It was yourself, Mrs. Linton: you knew it a while since.” “Myself!” she gasped, “and the clock is striking twelve! It’s true, then! that’s dreadful!” Her fingers clutched the clothes, and gathered them over her eyes. I attempted to steal to the door with an intention of calling her husband; but I was summoned back by a piercing shriek—the shawl had dropped from the frame. “Why, what is the matter?” cried I. “Who is coward now? Wake up! That is the glass—the mirror, Mrs. Linton; and you see yourself in it, and there am I too by your side.”

There's a lot we could talk about here, but for this I'm going to focus on the theme of her losing her identity when she is confronted with the thought of losing Heathcliff. The two are, of course, constantly referring to each other as the holder of their heart, that their souls are made of the same thing, etc. They are not the same person but they are very deeply linked, and without the other they lose themself too.

I believe this idea is relevant to Limbus Cathy because well, the theme of Identity is very strong throughout the game, your relationship to yourself and your dreams is where both EGOs and Distortions stem from + Mirror Worlds are of course massive in this game, there are worlds where things went just a little differently and ones where roles are reversed and etc. So for Cathy to find herself again and then have a line like "I know what to do now. The basement. We… must descend there." is a bit concerning for her! and Heathcliff!

Real quick I need to mention the obvious comparison to be made here: Yi Sang and Sang Yi

There's been a lot of references to The Ring and The Glass Mirror/Window in this Canto, calling back to their experiments in Leviathan where they attempted to superimpose countless Identities on a single person - the Dead Rabbits with their masks full of mirrors that shatter when defeated have a unique animation showing off glass shards. Not to mention the hallways of the mansion being like the Corridors that the Ring uses, alterations that Catherine and Linton put in place. I think it's incredibly likely that the 'guest' who visited was a member of the Ring.

Now, Cathy's relationship with her reflection hasn't been fully explored quite yet, but much like Yi Sang after he lost the League, Cathy was incredibly depressed after Heathcliff left - becoming apathetic and finding it difficult to find anything worth caring about. So it's !! It's interesting that we are bringing back up the Mirror right now. Cathy's reflection might not be quite like Yeonsim, but they are certainty filling similar narrative roles of finding comfort in yourself to cope with grief.

I'd also like to bring up the fact we have the Dead Rabbits and pocket watches and a mirror and it all really makes me think of Alice in Wonderland (thank you bell @sunshades for bringing this to my attention when we were theory crafting before the canto came out. ily) and I could very easily see us getting some more Alice stuff in the same way we got Peter Pan references in Canto V. The Ring's corridor technology and whatever is happening in the basement could lead to a lot of wacky environments like Alice goes through in the book and it would be a fun setting to explore!

Now where does this leave us with theories? Well, with all of the Leviathan stuff we could suggest that Cathy is not dead, and has been superimposed with a mirror world Cathy instead making her only effectively dead in the same way Lapis currently is. Or perhaps only the mirror Cathy is left? There is also the relationship The Ring has to the creation of the Peccatulum and the fact the Envy type is still missing - Envy being the sin associated with Heathcliff and if they do have some strange lab situation down there I think we're likely to meet them + Distortion bosses from previous Cantos had designs inspired by the Peccatulum so if anyone but especially Cathy does distort, it's going to be based off of them. And for Cathy I wonder if she is more envious of another Self than of any other person...?

Also for Cathy IDs if it doesn't go to Heathcliff (and seeing that Heathcliff seemed to be...? Normal?? Heathcliff? in the Rabbit Boss Meursault UT story, there's a solid chance they do something weird with his ID this season anyways) I think Yi Sang is the obvious choice. Shout out to Yi Sang Cathy parallels... Makes Sunshower Heathcliff being crazy good in this Canto thanks to the grief all start to make sense now doesn't it? #PotentialManSweep

#limbus company #project moon #canto vi spoilers #catherine lcb #finishing this at light speed before part 2 drops and this all gets invalidated #i need a tag for these long posts i put way too much effort into but ill think of it later

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demonrubberduck · 5 months

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MinaxJonathan, knife, waiting for the Czarina Catherine while Mina is gradually changing more and more

His and Hers Knives

(Summary: PG-13 for mentions of suicide and a swear

Jonathan has knives for Dracula, or for anyone else who might try to separate him from Mina, and Mina has a knife of her own.)

The gentle scrape of blade upon whetstone did not awaken Mina. It was a quiet, soothing sound, though Jonathan doubted even the passing by of a circus could rouse her from her slumber before she was ready. Regardless, he tried to keep quiet while she slept, and he doubted this sound would have even bothered her before she’d been bitten.

Not that he was the sort to sharpen knives in the wee hours, before. Much had changed in the past few months. He wasn’t the same man who had set out on a train to Buda-Pesth and beyond for an ailing Mr. Hawkins.

A few more strokes had his kukri knife razor sharp. He set it aside and drew another knife, a Bowie, from a sheath within his waistcoat. He wet the stone, then began sharpening its blade.

He kept four knives on his person, these days. The kukri was the most obvious. It was the statement, and the other concealed blades whatever punctuation it required. Let it not be said that Jonathan Harker wasn’t communicative.

He sharpened the Bowie, then his boot knife, and finally the curved karambit. This had become his nightly ritual, almost a knightly ritual, as he watched over Mina’s unnatural slumber. Dracula had come upon her in their bedchamber. Never again. Though Dracula was far away, concealed in the bowels of the Czarina Catherine, Jonathan still kept his vigil.

It wasn’t only for Dracula that he sharpened his blades. Van Helsing and Seward’s eyes were ever on Mina, assessing her sluggish pulse and her sharpening teeth and that terrible burned mark upon his pale forehead. If they could not hunt down and destroy Dracula to free Mina’s soul, they would come for her.

And if they did, they would find Jonathan.

There would have to be a strategy to the order in which he addressed them, he knew. If they brought Godalming and Morris along, they would have to be dealt with first, though he’d have to be wary of Seward’s right hook if his phonograph entries were to be believed. Van Helsing would be last. Though his brain was the biggest threat to Mina’s continued existence, his body was slow and frail with age, and with the others gone, he would be easy to dispatch.

“Jonathan.”

If the two doctors came alone, that would be better. They might, if they underestimated Jonathan’s devotion to Mina. Then he could silence them, and catch Morris and Godalming unawares.

“Jonathan.”

It wouldn’t be easy to take a life, but he could steel himself for Mina’s sake. A man had to protect his wife. ‘Til death do us part,’ what weak resolve was that? He would be hers beyond death, beyond ‘un-death’.

“Jonathan!” Chill hands and an insistent voice drew him from his dark thoughts, and he finally blinked and saw that Mina had awoken and taken his hands in her own around the hilt of his kukri, which he must have picked back up at some point of his musings. Mina’s hands looked ethereally pale against his.

“My love, where were you?” she asked. Here she was, so sickly pale, yet worried about him. He shook his head.

“Lost in thought.” He put the knife down so he could take her hands properly. “I’m sorry.”

She kissed him, just a chaste press of lip to lip. They had not known each other as husband and wife since she’d been bitten. Mina felt herself unclean, and though Jonathan thought her still as pure and holy as an angel, he would not press her into couplings she did not enthusiastically welcome. These light touches would suffice him.

“I fear I’ll be asleep again soon. Come lie by me, while we still have time.”

Jonathan sat his kukri on the bedside table and joined Mina in bed. She pulled something from beneath her pillow and pressed it into his hands.

It was another knife, in a leather sheath, its handle wrapped in a black ribbon tied securely in a knot.

“I asked Mr. Morris to get me a blade. It’s a fine one, isn’t it?” Mina motioned for Jonathan to unsheath it.

He drew it out. It was a simple boning blade, thin and straight, almost delicate, especially when compared to his kukri. Jonathan ran his finger along the flat of the blade, then against the silk ribbon-wrapped hilt.

“I see you decorated it.”

Mina smiled at him. “Yes, it’s silly, but I wanted to make it my own. Will you show me how to sharpen it?”

Jonathan nodded. There was nothing he could deny her, except… except that which she’d asked at her ‘funeral’.

“In the daylight hours, when you’re more awake,” he promised. He slid it back into its sheath and handed it back to her.

“Good. I need it to be sharp.”

“God be willing, you’ll never get close enough to Dracula or any other enemy to need a sharp knife,” he said. He reached over and picked up the kukri. “That’s what this is for.”

She smiled again, lips closed. All of her smiles were like that, these days. Hiding her teeth, fearing the day they became fangs.

“I know it is. Each thing has its purpose, Jonathan. This knife is not for him. It’s for… it’s for me.”

Her voice caught, and Jonathan looked up at her sharply.

“No,” he said. He reached over to take the knife from her, but she drew it away and cradled it to her breast. He could have wrested it away from her, but he couldn’t bear to handle her so harshly, so he drew back, letting her keep the little blade.

“Listen to me, husband,” she pleaded. “I can feel myself changing. I am clinging to the same hope we all are, but… but we must be ready, in case that hope fails.”

“That is what the kukri is for,” he said again. “If we cannot be together as man and wife, then I will serve you as your protector and thrall, and keep away any who would harm you. You can have my blood, my body, my life. As long as we’re together, I don’t care about anything else!”

“But I do!” Mina’s voice rose to match his own in volume and passion. “Perhaps you could find it in your heart to love me as a vampire, but I could not love myself. I must be human, or else I must be a corpse. If you love me, listen to me.”

Jonathan loved her, and so he listened. He forced his hand to release the white-knuckled grip on the kukri’s handle.

“Go on, then,” he whispered.

She nodded, and her eyes shone with tears as she continued.

“I borrowed a book on anatomy from Dr. Seward to be sure. This little blade should be long enough to pierce a heart. If Dracula escapes us and the transformation is upon me, I want you to…”

A sob interrupted her, and she swallowed hard. “I want you to use it on me. I’m very afraid, but I think if it’s such a thin blade, and if it’s plenty sharp and in the hands of someone I love… I think, then, that I could bear it.”

Jonathan couldn’t hold back his tears at the thought of that, and both of them took each other by the hand, crying.

“A-and I would w-want you to go on with your life, and find happiness, but…”

“Without you? There could never be such a thing,” Jonathan interrupted.

Mina nodded, and wiped a hand at her eyes. “I know, my love. And if that be the case, then, this knife can be for you as well.”

Jonathan drew her into his arms. “Thank you, my dearest. Thank you.” Her words delivered to him such profound relief that he hasn’t known since she’d arrived by his side at the Hospital of Saint Joseph and Saint Mary in Budapesh to marry him. He could face whatever peril, so long as at the end of it, he ended up where she was, be it heaven, hell, or their home in Exeter.

“It’ll be romantic, in a way,” Mina said, head nestled into his shoulder, her tears beginning to soak through his nightshirt. “Our hearts’ blood, mingled together on one blade. Together to the end.”

Jonathan nodded. “I c-can draw up our wills, that we will be buried together, in the same coffin, with this knife laid beside us if you’d like.”

He felt her nod against his neck. His wonderful, perfect bride and her obsession with the macabre. How he adored her.

They held each other until their tears had all been shed, and then Jonathan wiped first her eyes, then his own with his handkerchief.

Mina’s eyelids began to sink lower, her pulse slowing. She yawned, but made barely a sound.

“I fear… I cannot stay awake much longer….”

Jonathan lowered her down onto the bed. “Sleep, love.”

He tucked her in, and took his seat once more. Now he had five knives to sharpen during his vigil. He held the kukri in his right hand, the little boning knife in his left, considering both. Dracula would die, or the Harkers would.

He raised the kukri up, admiring the deadly sharp edge of the blade. It would be Dracula or the Harkers, and they knew where Dracula fucking slept.

#dracula daily #dracula spoilers #drabble #jonmina #cw: mention of suicide #jonathan harker #mina harker #jonathan harker can say 'fuck' as a treat

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