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rise-my-angel · 11 months

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Heart of the Great Wolf

7 - Shadow of a Fiery Stag

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 11.3k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, slow burn, nighmares, blood and violence, discussions of warfare torture and executions, character death, smut, p in v, light bondage, slight dom/sub dynamics, references to unwanted and aggressive sexual advances, canon divergence

Notes: Based mostly off the show, but certain sub plots here are pulled right from the books instead. Previous chapter here, series masterlist here.

It was during a night like this when you had been at the opposite end of this kind of attack. The rain that night had been heavy and only grew heavier the longer you were out there. Most would have given up by that point, called out their surrender or simply made their way back home on their own. That was not you however, not that night. Your teeth were shattering and your clothes were so soaked through it would take days to dry but what kept you was blind, dumb, determination. Or stubbornness.

It was a sweltering air of summer in that year, unlike now where the heat was dying to what everyone knew would be a longer winter. Your back was pressed against a tree as your eyes peeled around you trying to see in the darkness. You appeared to be alone but you were no fool on that. There was a wolf somewhere in these woods. There had been two as they hunted you and that of the sea, but one your partner in crime was caught, and the first wolf had given up once the rain grew heavier.

It was a game, really. To the younger Starks, it would be fun and easy. Chase them and you around the clearing until they tired out or the sun begun to dim and Lady Catelyn would bring them all in. But between the four of you, three all around eighteen and you at sixteen, the game was much more competitive. If the runners could hide out until midnight, well honestly you hadn’t remembered what the winning bet was for. But it had boiled down to the two teenagers who hadn’t grown up in the wolfswood had to last until midnight without getting caught by the two wolves who knew it like the backs of their hand.

The rain started to fall when they caught Theon, both Starks all but charging him into the mud and once the rain grew harder? Robb tried to call it, but when you wouldn’t come out, considering it to be a ploy? Well it seemed Jon took that stubbornness of yours as a challenge.

Now it was nearing midnight and the rain hard as anything, you knew Jon was still searching for you, never trying to call out or coax you to him.

No you were the prey being stalked by a quiet, and stealthy wolf and you had the great feeling he was toying with you. Purposely letting you get close to winning before he striked. From here, if you ran as fast as you could, you just might make it to the small lake a bit ahead and then you knew how to get back to the castle easily from there.

Your eyes had narrowed, looking to the sides and in front but nothing was there. The tree was thick enough to hide you entirely so by the time he spotted you, you might have made enough of a head start. You had to risk it, and risk it you did.

Taking a deep breathe you begun to sprint in the direction of the lake, only to be grabbed almost instantly by two strong arms yanking your back into their chest. You could feel Jon’s smirk, he didn’t even have to say anything. He had snuck up on you, and hid on the other side of the very tree you were hiding behind, and you never heard a thing.

Struggling against the far stronger one, you huffed out with a laugh. “Alright, alright, you win, now let me go.”

Oh he was definitely smirking, you could hear it in his voice as he spoke lowly into your ear, only in this instance for some reason you picked up on the raspiness of it. A husk in his voice that had been there for a long time, but for some reason as it growled in your ear it made you still in his hold. “I think you’re forgetting who the wolf is here.”

If he noticed your sudden change in demeanour, he didn’t show it. Your voice a little more out of breathe for someone who hadn’t even broken into a spring yet. “Stags are bigger then wolves, Snow.”

His hold previously pinning your arms to your sides, moved gently to unravel as they rested against your upper arms. Him not having moved you away from him, nor backing up to give you space. Once again, the deep raspiness of his voice made your breathe hitch. “Stags are male. Besides, you’re too small to be one anyways, you’re more like a deer. You know what deer are to wolves, Baratheon?”

Jon’s tone putting a mocking emphasis on your own last name. Turning your head slightly, you could see his dark curls, quite long at that time and soaked as they brushed against the side of your cheek. If you looked any further, you may have caught his grey eyes, so dark at that moment they could’ve been black. Your voice was higher pitched, and it was obvious to both of you something in the air had changed but you didn’t have the words in your mind to pin why. “Prey?”

As he chuckled, you tried to take one last chance. Not really for the sake of this little game, but maybe beacuse your head was overwhelmed. Even over the rainfall, he was close enough you could smell him and it made you dizzy to find that you liked it. But Jon wasn’t one to give up, as you broke free of his hands, you only made it a few feet before he called your name.

Coming up behind, he grabbed and spun you to press your back against a tree as he stood in front of you, only when you looked up at him it wasn’t Jon.

Something tall enough you had to stretch your neck to see, and staring back down were two shockingly blue eyes that glowed against the darkness of the figure. A freezing wave casted around you like a fog and in the distance you heard the echoing cries of a baby.

Your memory having turned to something new, playing the events out right until it turned into a nightmare of cold you didn’t understand. It was that dream that you thought of as you sat atop your horse in the rain.

Only this time, the two wolves were on your side and you were the one doing the hunting. Ahead of you were a good number of Lannister men, lead by Stafford Lannister. An easy job, even as they outnumbered your six thousand men they were poorly trained and with even worse command. Men were beside you, on the front ready as you and the King in the North were, but he had one trick up his sleeve first.

You were staring ahead, but the small glance you took to the side as you waited out Grey Wind’s attack, you swore for a split second Robb’s eyes looked almost white. But then an aggressive growl rang out, and whatever you think you saw was once more his blue ones, dark and sharp in the night.

The watchmen ripped apart by the direwolf, and the men led forward by who some had begun calling The Young Wolf. The King in the North, Robb Stark, the Young Wolf ravaging the Lannisters throughout the south with his Queen, his Silent Stag at his side.

They had put up little fight, at least in respect to what you thus far had been used too. The dark and the rain had confused them, making all the worse by the orders given to those acting as archers just before. “Kill the men, not their horse. A dead horse is good cover in the dark.”

The light came quick and the victory came quicker. Still freshly painted with blood, you walked through the scattered remains on the field beside Maege Mormont, keeping track in your mind of the enemy survivors being counted for. “That’s what? At least five of them for one of ours?”

Nodding with narrowed as as you looked around, “So it seems.”

The large woman next to you seemed to have sensed the mood, “It takes getting used to, your grace.” You turned with a raised eyebrow in question as she nodded with her chin to the dead around you. “All this. Every fight it feels like it never gets better, but one day you’re standing on the winning side and your too focused on how many of you, ‘ya got left then focusing on how many you killed.”

She took a pause as she looked you over, the distant and stoic expression she had started to learn wasn’t that of a cold inside or uncaring. Just more of a shell that’s been long taught to cover you on the outside. “And if you ask me, the longer it takes to get used to it, it means you’re still human in the inside. Treasure it while you still have it, your grace.”

Both of your eyes followed a path in the distance to where Robb was having a similar chat with Roose Bolton, but you both could tell there was some disagreement being discussed. “Some lose it faster then others.”

Nodding with a slight grimace you turned to her, your hands resting on your hips as you both watched the pair for a few seconds. “You know, I can’t tell if I respect him or am terrified of him.”

An easy laugh left her that was more of a knowing “Ha” then anything. Maege took a step towards you leaning down closer to your level. “Bolton terrifies most. I can bet if it weren’t for the King, he would’ve been hanging and flaying open those Lannisters the second the fighting stopped.”

Jaw clenching you tore your eyes away from him, “As long as they have his sisters, he won’t risk doing anything that gives Joffery and Cersei any more reason to hurt them.”

Raising an eyebrow at you, “You think they’re hurting those girls?”

You could still see the look in Joffery’s eyes that day in the throne room. An unhinged look that only added up to all the separate times you’d seen him act out so egregiously. “That little psycho isn’t above dragging them into the throne room and having his sorry excuse of a Kingsgaurd beat them as much as he can get away with.”

It weighed on Robb a lot. Knowing that they suffered with each of his own victories, that in his campaign to free them and his people for good he has to sacrifice their well being. It was something you know Catelyn was struggling with. Trying to convince her son that they will give them her daughters for Jaime, but you know handing him over is too risky.

Information, details, secrets, and worst of all, you’d lose a hefty leverage over the Lannisters knowing that they would never grant the same in return. The North loses, people die, Robb surrenders in any way and they will drag you him into the public and end you both just as they did Ned Stark.

Continuing down, it was nice to have found a companion in Maege. She was large, brash, unafraid to speak her mind to just about anyone while keeping a good sense about her. You had asked if all Mormonts were as towering as her and Dacey, to which she gave a pretty good laugh. “Most of ‘em seem to be. All but my youngest, Lyanna she’s a tiny thing but hell if she makes up for it in that mouth of hers.”

You smirked, “Wonder where she could possibly get that from. You have all girls?”

Nodding there was a pride in her face, “Aye, and thank the gods for it. Men in this family were starting to drive us up the wall, now it’s at least a little more quiet.”

You had kept to yourself and only Robb that her nephew, Jorah was a spy working with the now single living Targaryean. He had already disgraced their house enough you didn’t think they needed one more slight added to their pile. It already was a stain that left them bitter, what he did. “My brother always said I was the short tempered one, but I’ve never met a man who could yell quite as loud as him.”

Noting the amount of your own dead, gathering names and families to write for as Olyvar had come to your side at the ready. Maege had glanced at you with an amused smirk, but you shook her off with a close to flat smile of your own. Robb had accepted him, but he hadn’t the patience for a squire that wasn’t quite use to knowing when to leave him alone.

So he had started coming to you, you having no qualms about sending him off on any task just to keep the boy busy. “Be sure to write to Lord Frey yourself about Ser Stevron. I’m sure he’d more appreciate hearing it from one of his own boys.”

“Right away, your grace.” Maege laughed as he took off and you found yourself chuckling alongside her quite freely. “He’s hard working, I’ll give him that but I have no idea how Walder Frey means to make a knight out of that boy.”

“The most aggressive I’ve ever seen him get is when one of the goats bashed him in the ass a few days ago. Think it made him drop his grace’s meal judging by how much he was trying to yell at the thing.” You smirked, that may explain how strangely apologetic he was one evening about being late, when in reality neither you nor Robb had noticed. There was plenty to go over keeping you from noticing the time.

Glancing her over you asked her, “How are you with livestock?”

Her eyes narrowed in question before shrugging. “I can carrel them better then that boy can, that’s for sure.”

Nodding you turned to face her properly. “Good, I want you and Dacey to take your men and start moving along the lines and capturing as much livestock as you can, start getting them into the riverlands so they can get a jump on some before they get too slim or the Lannisters pick them off first.”

An easy grin on her face, “And here I thought you were going to give me something hard, that’s not even a challenge. I’ll get them ready to go by afternoon.”

“Keep an eye out the closer you get. With us heading to Ashemark, then the Crag, Tywin’ll assume Stannis is going for the Stormlands meaning he’ll start heading west for us. Don’t be in his cross hairs when he does.” You glanced around again, “There’s too many men here even with you here.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You felt thankful she knew you well enough that she put her hand out. Yours clashing into hers with a steady force as she gave it a shake.

You held it there for a moment as you gave her a much more easy going look, “Don’t get killed, Mormont.”

“Nor you, your grace.”

Taking a moment to look over the field alone, you went over in your head trying to organize just who was where and expected by when. Starting to understand how your father always seemed to wrapped up in paperwork, you think you needed a tome full just to keep track of your own men. Greatjon Umber should be close to the Gold mines at Nunn’s Deep, while the Glovers and Karstarks had moved to start raiding along the coast.

“You seem troubled, your grace.”

Your palm having been running over your forehead, you rose up in surprise to find Roose Bolton approaching you. Shrugging you could spot Grey Wind in the distance behind him, suspiciously keeping you in his eyeline it seemed. He’d been keeping his eyes on you as much as he always did Robb now and you were finding the sight of the giant direwolf close to comforting in a way. Turning your attention back to Bolton, “Not troubled. Just struggling to find a way to keep track of things without feeling like my head’s going to explode.”

Chuckling, beside you, you always found him to be an odd man. He was someone with a commanding presence, full of a calm respect, and offered as much as he did listened well. And yet part of him spooked you to the core. “I’m afraid that feeling only gets worse with age. Finding a good outlet helps.”

Face remaining impassive, “And what kind of outlet does a man such as yourself engage in?” Quiet ran between both of you, the tension growing a tinge thicker as he looked as calm as you did, only a single flicker of his eyes betrayed his thoughts as he glanced to where you could distantly hear Robb speaking to a group of men. “He told you no, I am to guess?”

“He did. His grace dies not condone the use of torture, even now in times of war.” There wasn’t discontent in his tone or face, but certainly his words put you at a feeling of unease that was rather similar to what Robb had previously felt at such suggestions.

“You torture a person long enough, and they’ll tell you anything you want just to make it end. Even if it’s nothing but lies, and we’d be none the wiser.” You thought not of rumours of Dragonstone, and how all too much of it was vastly outrageous and some inhumane. It was easier to tell yourself none of it was true here as well.

Roose conceded, following as you both walked. “I must say I am surprised, your grace. I didn’t think a woman such as yourself would have been raised to believe in fighting war with kindness.”

The smell of blood and rotting death festered all around the field, it stuck in the air and would attach itself to you for as long as this war went on. “I don’t believe in that, my lord. Not at all. I think if you’re too kind then you risk letting any fear slip passed by those looking to take advantage of it. But this?” Passing in front of you, a small trio of Silent Sisters passed on, all with gloves drenched in blood and bodies to follow.

The two of you share a glance as you both waited, giving them space to work. “This isn’t kindness, though. And the King has no intention of showing them any.” He looked at you with a lighter expression, eyes a bit more open to your words. “If he was showing these men kindness, then Lord Tywin would have no reason to hide away in Harrenhal, would he?”

Roose tilted his head slightly at you, and in a moment of surprise, you recognized the same strange unspoken pride that you had seen from your own father. In earlier years, you had said when being taught the Great Houses of Westeros, you couldn’t imagine what growing up under “those kinds of people” would be like, when identifying the flag of a flayed open man of House Bolton.

But as you stood with the man now, you started to think maybe you already did. It just took your own father a bit longer to get to the cruelty of it all. Interrupting your thoughts he spoke, “And yet he sent Lady Catelyn to broker a truce with Renly Baratheon.”

He noticed how easily you smirked at such a comment, a sight so rare on the silent Queen. “Renly has had everything given to him by others, my lord. Robert gave him Storms End when he was only a child, he spent his days on the small council laughing and joking with Petyr Baelish instead of taking it seriously, and he has never been involved in anything more violent then getting knocked off his horse like a fool.” Arms crossed over your chest, you could see the men in the distance all looking to Robb with almost worship. “Renly has as many men as he does, because he thinks all a ruler needs to be is charming and his men will do the rest. I think sending her was the safer option, he isn’t really a leader who responds well to anything that might actually intimidate him.”

Was this how your father felt? A love for his brother turned sour as he was wronged more and more, and watched him get rewarded for it? The men of the Stormlands would have turned to Stannis most likely if not for Renly, and of Highgarden? You couldn’t be sure. The allegiance of the Tyrells seemed to be something that eluded you.

“It’s all just a game to Renly. And it won’t last forever.”

You had been sitting partially atop the table, your legs up with knees bent against the seat of a chair as you read and reread the contents of the raven. Robb watched you try not to break into a smirk as the returned Lord Karstark stood present. “And you are sure this was meant for-”

“Lord Damon of House Marbrand, your grace. No doubt about it. The details match what your scouts have reported.” He explained, turning to address the King himself. “A right fuck up, these southern men can’t even read, now.”

Robb much more freely joined in the amusement Lord Karstark had brought to you with a smirk. “Thank you, my lord. I’m sure the Lannisters would thank you as well for such a prompt delivery. If you would give us the room if you would.”

As the room fell quiet your face fell into your palm. “Everything I’ve heard about Ser Amory Lorch, and suddenly him not being able to read makes a whole lot more sense.”

Coming to your side, Robb leaned back against the table, grabbing the letter from you with a mix of amusement in his tone. “By the time Lord Tywin realizes it, we’ll have taken Ashemark already.” A raven had been sent to Lord Marlyn of House Dormand, keen eyes being able to tell the general direction which a raven has been sent from one of Karstark’s men recognized a flight path coming from the direction of where they knew Tywins forces had been pushed back too.

It wouldn’t have even passed them at all had it been sent to House Marbrand of Ashemark like the letter was addressed. Details of infantry movement telling both of Lannister forces pushing back out of Riverrun, garrisoned across the river, and of instructions to the very place your own forces were marching onto. “We started writing in code to avoid this.”

“We were also ten years old, and afraid of our parents finding out what pranks we wanted to play on our siblings.” His voice trailing off in fondness at the thought. It was after your first visit to Winterfell, Robb and yourself would get caught the most getting into trouble and by the time you were to return to Dragonstone, both of you came up with a way to plan out things without getting caught.

As you looked over at him, it was as if a wave of softness came over your heart. The gentle smile on his lips and the bright eyes that always spoke so much in them. It wasn’t fair, the only thing that finally brought you together so deeply being war. A war started for a father he still lost, and a family that was scattered across the rest of the realm and it all now weighed on his shoulders. Any loss, any mistake, any bad thing to happen all fell on him no matter what now and you knew there would be no way for anyone to understand what he’s truly given up to do this.

He knew it was his responsibility to protect his family, and he knows that there is no losing this war that doesn’t end with him ending up beside his father. Robb can’t just give everything up for his sisters and surrender, because he knows that his surrender won’t mean anything to the Lannisters. Not after what they’ve shown themselves to truly be. He had no choice anymore, this was his duty and he has to do it.

“We do not chose our destiny. We must do our duty, no? Great or small, we must do our duty.”

You could hear him even from here. His words ringing out in lesson after lesson, hammering it into your head until you could say it backwards in your sleep. It wasn’t your fathers choice to inherit a throne he was never meant to have, and it wasn’t Robb’s choice to lead his people who had spent generations being shoved away and forgotten by the very throne your father now sought after.

Robb gently calling your name brought you back to the present, standing tall over you once more with a narrowed look in his eyes. Just as he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, and just as you felt the gentle brush of his hand on your waist you lifted a hand up to gently cup his jaw. Pulling his lips to yours as the rush of comforting warmth ran through your veins once more.

Almost too sweet and innocent of a kiss for where you both were, one that felt so much like the gentle kiss in front of the Weirwood. So many women in your life told you that your duty was simple, you were a highborn lady. You would marry a high lord, have his children, should you be so lucky have a quiet and simple life in his home. But you and Robb were nowhere near that.

Far from home surrounded by a war that depended on him and all you had brought from your side was a broken family who hates each other. Pulling back, he could see the trouble in your eyes but the sounds of someone entering broke the spell between you. You had at least, gotten more used to not feeling so flustered at Robb’s lack of care about showing such physical affection in front of his men.

Keeping his hand on your waist as you stood up and turned to face Brynden Tully, “Pardon the interruption, your grace.” Pausing he looked at you, even in his normally hardened expression you could see the apology for being the one to deliver it. “I thought you should hear it before the rest of the camp start squawking about it. Renly Baratheon is dead.”

Your heart both stopped and pounded at the same instance, a dizzy feeling flushing your mind as you slowly brought your palms down to brace against the table in front of you. You’re glad it was him who delivered it, a man who at least wouldn’t take any offence to the cold roughness in your tone. “How?”

As Catelyn entered the tent, you at least put together how he found out so fast. “Maybe we should speak in private.” Glancing at her uncle, you shook your head, nodding for him to come in.

“Stay.” Brynden didn’t question it, as he nodded to Robb still behind you, the hand on your waist wrapping more around your back as he came to stand more next to you. He understood that if he continued to find some semblance of solace in his mother you at least were starting to find an amusing kind of understanding with the older Tully.

Catelyn seemed to say something quiet to someone outside the tent before Brynden closed you all in as she looked to you, almost confused. Your name coming out in a cracked tone as she found the words trying to form. “I don’t know how to even describe this without sound like I lost my mind..”

Robbs hand around your waist tightened as he could see your knuckles turning white as you tensed your hands on the wooden surface. Your jaw set so much it looked like it would break. “Try, mother.” He was more quiet beside you, but in a serious tone.

Exasperated, she stepped closer to you on the other side. “We were speaking in his tent, when the wind picked up and...” Her voice trailed off as her head turned away, only to see yours snap up with a flash of something you knew she couldn’t quite read behind them. “This, black smoke seemed to just..fly in as it..” She found no doubt in your eyes, so she only looked to you. “It looked like it turned into a man, and stabbed Renly right through the chest before disappearing.”

“Cat-”

“I know how it sounds, Uncle. Trust me, I do. But it happened right in front of my eyes, there was no mistakening it. The woman I came back with, she saw it happen as well. One of his kingsgaurd, no doubt they’ll blame it on her but I promise you, that’s what I saw.” Your eyes had trailed down to focus on nothing in particular on the table.

Whispers in your head, images in your mind, and nightmares you’ve never spoken of all seemed to make this sound like the more rational thing. You could hear Robb and Brynden try to find reason with her that she was mistaken, when Catelyn once more said your name. “There is one more thing. The woman with me, she didn’t just see it. She claims she saw the...figure in the shape of the person who did it.”

The hesitancy in her voice, and you felt something constrict around you. Being at war with him was one thing, but this? No, there was no way. Your father would never stoop to something like this. Ned Stark’s words in the small council chambers that day sung in your ear, “You’ll dishonour yourself forever if you do this.”

The silence was stifling before you glanced to Brynden. “Do we know where his forces have moved too?” Walking over to where the plans had been laid out, he leaned over it as you came around to his side. Robb giving his mother a stern glance to drop it, to let him deal with this.

“If our scouts are correct, then most of them are headed to Stannis’s side. Except for the Tyrells, who we haven’t heard where they ran off too.” Your eyes fell onto Storm’s End, he wouldn’t risk going from there. The charge from Dragonstone to Kings Landing was right in his path and he knew those waters better then the Lannisters did.

Robb beside you came to the other side. “I know where they’ll go.” Looking up you could see him catching your eye. “You said that Renly had been trying to find a way to get Margaery Tyrell at Robert’s side, right?” Nodding slowly, you tried to clue in the dots he was, but you couldn’t push past the thought. “Robert dies, Renly declares himself King and Margaery his Queen. So where is the next best place they could think to go that’d give them that advantage?”

Catelyn was more unsure. “But if they already sided against the Lannisters once-”

Robb with no doubt in his tone, once more an easy shift to that of a real leader. “What do the Tyrells have that is more important to Tywin Lannister then gold or men?”

You bit your tongue as you tried to keep your breathe even as Brynden answered for you, “Food.”

As you exited the tent, you were met with a flash of a darkish gold shine leading up to a face you hadn’t seen before. Trying to place her but coming up short, “My Lady, I assume I’m correct in saying you must the one who came with Lady Catelyn?”

Her voice was calm, polite, and as formal as one could ever hope for. “I am, my lady. My name is Brienne of Tarth-”

Coming up beside you was Brynden, “Pardon me,” more stern then you had expected from him, but he moved right through her mid sentence regardless. “But this isn’t your lady, she is the King in the North’s wife. That is, she is our Queen.” A recognition painted in her eyes, and something must have clued in for her.

So this is the woman who thinks your father was behind this. Whatever was in her mind, she found it in her to push aside as she nodded to you. “My apologies. You have my sorry for the passing of King Renly, rest assured your uncle was well loved by all of his followers.”

“Followers that all ran to Stannis once he passed.” Onlookers had noticed tension between the three of you, but all but none would dare interrupt. “And it takes more then just calling yourself King to make you one.”

Something irked inside of the woman and you almost were just itching to have her let it out. In a stroke of likely good luck, rings of “Your grace” spoke up as Robb approached. Giving a nod to Brienne with nothing but a polite but firm look in his eye. “Pardon the interruption my lady,” Hard to see from where anyone was standing as Robb put a hand flat over your lower back with a slight pressure. “But the Queen and I have many things needing attending too. I’m sure you and my mother are tired from your travels. I’d ask you do well to make sure she settles in.”

Nodding, you could see her catching the eye of what likely was the woman in question behind Robb as she lost much of the tensity she spoke to with you. “Of course, your grace.”

As she begun walking off, you caught Catelyns eye whose gaze was full of a complex sympathy, not an easy position you’ve been put in in her mind. Robb having quietly sent his great uncle off with something he pushed you with him in the opposite direction. “If you’re going to scold me-”

Robb letting a small amused smile slide onto his face, “I wasn’t. I was going to say that we’ll talk about it in private later.” Sensing your muscles relaxing, he let go of you before moving up to stand in front of you closer. “I’m having Grey Wind stick to your side from now on.”

Your eyes narrowing in question he looked at you with a stern darker look in his eye not to argue about it right now. “I can’t ask you to-”

“I’m not asking.” His hand coming up to run over the side of your neck and jaw. “If I’m not with you, then I want him to be. And to answer your next question, yes this is an order.”

Something stirred underneath him that you could feel was worry, neither of you really had any reason not to believe her but without the time, energy or ability to question it further? You would have to accept for now that Robb would feel better if you weren’t left on your own without a watcher as trusted as himself or his own direwolf. Nodding, you ran your hand over the wrist closest to your face, sneaking under all the coverings to run your thumb across his pulse. Your voice for now, just that of a whisper. “Understood.”

You both nodded at the other, your eyes taking too long to look away as a protectiveness was clearly swimming in his, but was calm enough to not let it overtake. You both had things needing your attention, you would at least have to wait until tonight to give yourself a real chance to breathe.

Or not, in the ever growing day that provided nothing but issue. Only this time the offence was far more personal. And the anger felt in the room wasn’t just contained to fester on the inside of your heart, no Robb was a Stark and when that anger was felt it would wash over the camp like the sea.

The news came in from more then once place. Trusting in the man he’d known for over ten years, the person who oathed to stand by his side and had never shown an inkling he would do this. Theon had left in high spirits, and instead of giving Robb the news one answer or the other, Theon chose a third route. A brutal betrayal. From a man who swore himself to the King in the North, this was treason.

Greyjoys had landed in on the areas around the North, raiding and all the worse which comes with their warfare. Theon had led the Iron Islanders himself to the heart of Winterfell and had taken it for himself, taken it in the name of his father.

One King dies, and another took his place. Stamping out any alliance with the North that Robb had offered, an offer which respected their once rebellion to be independent again. Two kingdoms who had enough of the Souths choke hold on them, and yet when given the chance to work together Balon Greyjoy had instead sent his only living son to take the place he grew to be a man in.

You supposed, this must have been how those words felt, father. His daughter, a Queen to her husband the King in the North. You know knew what mocking words felt like. King Balon, and Prince Theon. You could take those words and wrap them around the decrepit old mans throat and leave him to choke and die in the sea he loved so much.

Robb sat with the words in his hand. His mother stood with a shock of her own of her own while you and Roose Bolton kept the only calm in the room as you stood next to where Robb sat, and Roose standing across from him. You were angry, and there was no question about it but Robb was angrier. “This cannot be true.”

Roose confirming what he had informed you of moments prior to bringing the news to the King, “We’ve had ravens from White Harbour, Barrowtown, and the Dreadfort. I’m afraid it is true.”

You could see it grow, if not even in his voice or eyes you could feel it in the air, the betrayal was more then an insult, it hurt. It truly hurt. “Why? Why would Theon..”

“Because the Greyjoys are treasonous whores.” Looking up to him, you tilted your head with a pointed look that with a flicker of his eyes you knew the man caught. Asking of Bran and Rickon, Roose confirmed only, “We’ve heard nothing of them. But Rodrick Cassel is dead.”

Your chest feeling a sinking weight in it like being dropped off a cliff, he had taken his home and murdered his men. Men he’d known his entire life. Robb was silent, but it was right at the edge and you knew there was no stopping it.

Catelyn with a waver in her voice, “I told you never to trust a Greyjoy.”

Your head rising up with a warning in your eyes, “Catelyn,” As quick as she realized the seriousness of your warning, Robb reached his limit on his own.

“I must ride North at once.”

Moving to step in front of him before he could reach the front you pushed him back, making him look at you. “Robb, we’re still at war-” Even from how many layers sat between your hands and his chest underneath you could feel his heart pounding and screaming at him as it rose up.

An almost furious desperation in his yell as he looked at you. “How can I call myself King if I can’t hold my own castle?” You felt him shake under as you kept him right there in front of you, knowing if no one stopped him, he’d take off right then and there. “How can I ask men to follow me if I can’t-”

Finding his eyes, you stood tall as your own voice was laced with it’s own anger, yet low enough to try and soothe that wolf clawing to come out. “You are King, and that means realizing that you cannot do everything yourself.” He wasn’t calm, and he felt no less in a need for bloodshed but Robb stood still and evened out his breathe as you looked at him with the calm he needed.

Catelyn stepped to you, “Let me go and talk to Theon.”

Both of you whipped your heads to her, “No.” The same look as you warned her with earlier, now in the sharpness of your tongue. “We won’t talk this out, he dies for this.” You felt in a tight grip that almost could be painful as he ran a thumb over your pulse, finding something relieving knowing that you were only as calm as for his sake. Your pulse ran fast, however.

The woman wasn’t made for war like this, not to this kind of violence. Never trust a Greyjoy she said, but even hearing from you that death is the only fate you saw fit left her a bit stunned.

Roose approached the pair of you, Robb not making any move from you. “Let me send word to my bastard at the Dreadfort. He can raise a few hundred men and retake Winterfell before the new moon.”

Glancing at you, it was hard to not soften at those eyes. Anger and hurt and it tore at you knowing there was nothing to take that back. You leaned up more, ensuring his eyes looked deep into your own. “We have the Lannisters on the run. If we turn around now, we lose everything.”

“My boy would be honoured to bring you Prince Theon’s head.”

Robb kept his hand on you, looking with a steady approval in his expression to Roose. “Tell your son Bran and Rickon’s safety is paramount. And Theon, I want him brought to me alive.” The question in the other man’s eyes melting out to an approval that for once, you both could stand on even ground over.

Robb’s voice almost rough enough to be a growl. “I want to look him in the eye and ask him why, and then I’ll take his head myself.”

The three of you stood in an approval, as he nodded. “I’ll send word at once.” He glanced to you, “Your grace, a word?”

For a moment it almost looked like he was split about you leaving him alone with his mother, the last thing Robb needed was to be told that something he had no way of knowing about, was this much of a mistake. But, it was your mistake too then. You both trusted him, and you both sent him off without the worry of betrayal. If it was on Robb it was on you.

Your eyes narrowed in question, but he just nodded. Not a day that left either of you without an exhausting rage. Stepping out into the night, you spotted Grey Wind sitting up in one direction and Roose in the other. Tilting your head to the direwolf, he seemed to be content to obey as he stood and followed close behind.

Eyeing the sight with a bemused curiosity he nodded to the wolf, “I see you’ve attracted the attention of more then one wolf, now.” You shrugged a shoulder as you glanced back with a fondness in your eye for him, apparently you did, didn’t you. What was the saying, two is coincidence and three is a pattern?

“I seem to have a knack for it.”

Chuckling, the pair of you begun walking through the camp. Looking to the men all around who deserved better then to have their King stabbed in the back by one they called their own. One that was raised by Ned Stark for more of his life then not. “I’ve underestimated you, your grace.” Raising an eyebrow to him, he gestured around the pair of you. “Every man here is a northerner, the first men blood runs strong in our own, and yet they all look to you like you’ve never been anything but one of them.”

“I may not have grown up there, but I’ve been in the Stark’s lives since I was eight. Lord Eddard treated me as well as his own daughters, and I’ve been friends with his eldest sons for as long as I’ve know them. Hell, I even married one of them.” Somberingly, you thought of Renly. How he would tell you that you were never suited for Kings Landing, that the only place that agreed with you was the North.

“You’ve even stood against your own father for them.” Roose seemed to sense the tightness in your throat at the subject but he pressed on. “Married or not, if it’s the Iron Throne Stannis wants, then it’s the throne he’ll fight for and I think most had dreaded that you would side with him.” You had a chance, you really did. But what had Ser Barristan told you? That your duty now was to your family?

“My place is beside my family, and the Starks were family long before I married the King. I suppose I should be grateful that more men aren’t looking at me waiting for my turn.”

What surprised you was the ease which he spoke next. “For a while, I was the only one.”

Heart picked up in speed as you paused in your step. Looking to him with a hesitant wide eyed look as he turned to face you. “Is that what you asked me out here for, my lord? To tell me Robb’s men don’t trust me?”

“Quite the opposite. You’re a hard woman to read, your grace. Everything I know of your father, I see very heavily in the way you carry yourself, and yet I see you in there like you’re the only one who can get through those Starks tempers.” You hadn’t really seen it that way. You just acted in the only way you knew, the only way you’ve ever been with Robb. Or any of them. Wolves can be temperamental, yet you’ve never once worried about that being directed at you.

Your own silence seemed to prove something of a point to him. “I’ve underestimated you for some time, and I’m happy to be proven wrong. I see quite a formidable foe in you, you just need room to let it out.” Looking at him with a more squinting look he stepped in closer, your eyes glancing to calm the slight growl from Grey Wind.

“What did you call me out here for?”

“My bastard has his own way of doing things. I could tell him to simply do only as he’s been told, or I could tell him to make the Greyjoy feel some of that pain the King he betrayed is feeling. And the Queen.” An impressed look on his face, truly something about him reminded you strangely of your father, finding things to be proud of that most would tell you to ease up with. “Sometimes, we must punish pain with pain. Leave our enemies with a bit of fear.”

You didn’t think you knew what he was trying to ask of you. Or if you liked it. As if what he saw in you was a darker feeling then you had ever intended to show. You had heard of what your father has done, and you’ve spent much time trying not to think of it. Not to consider the horror of fire that has been used as a tactic of fear.

Inhaling a steady breath you looked at him, “Tell your son that Bran and Rickon need to be safe and unharmed. Have him find that out for us, and then it’s Robb’s decision from there. He is the King, and it’s his choices I stand by, now and always. Is that all, my lord?”

There was a pause, as he seemed to be unsure of where you yourself was standing at his suggestion, but made his leave without a shred of discontent. “It is. Goodnight, your grace.”

He startled you as he stormed into the tent. Grey Wind immediately taking leave to stand out the door, and yet the look in Robb’s eyes was something you didn’t recognize. You had assumed you were here before him, but judging by his dressed down state he had only walked out for a short while. Tossing something you couldn’t see in his hands down onto the bed, Robb walked up to you.

Grabbing both sides of your face with his hands and pulling you up to him, his lips hovering just over yours as he almost seethed. You could feel him as you whispered, your hands gently finding his torso and resting flat. “Talk to me, my love.”

Eyes squeezing shut he shook his head before hissing out. “I need to hear it.” Stunned for a second as where this was coming from, Robb felt his patience wear thin, yanking you to press up against his front. Already you could feel how hard he was. “Tell me you’re with me.”

There was the hurt, the betrayal from someone he never expected and the need to turn that anger into something else. Gently you danced your fingers up to run them behind his neck and into his curls. “I’m with you, I always will be and I will keep telling you that everyday if I have too.”

His hands on you tightened before he slid one to rake through your hair. Nudging your cheek now with his nose before mumbling deeply into your ear. “You trust me?” Nodding, he ran his hand over your hair comfortingly, “I need you to say it.”

“I trust you.”

You should have been tipped off by how worked up he was, how much he was trying to keep himself in control as he held you but the softness of his voice was a trick that you truly fell for. One that revealed itself as Robb spun you around, holding your back firmly to his chest as he held both your hands at your sides like he was pinning them. “If I do anything you don’t like, I want you to tell me right away.”

Despite your nod, he leaned more over your shoulder grasping at your chin to turn you to look back at him. “I will, I promise.” You dared not move your hands.

Finally, a soft smile came over him. “That’s my good girl.” Leaning down Robb closed the gap and kissed your roughly. Pulling a gasping moan from your mouth into his almost right away as your fingers itched to reach back and run your hands through his hair. He lightly bit your bottom lip and as you opened with a little breathe he slid his tongue to brush against yours. The hand on your jaw trailing down, reaching slowly into the top of your shirt and smirking into the kiss as he found nothing in his way.

Biting your lips once, twice more before trailing down your neck. His facial hair scratching at your neck, leaving raw red marks where he passed that added to the delicious sting of his teeth. Your eyes fluttered shut, cries wanting to leave your mouth so desperately only to come out loud and needy as he kissed and bit at such a sensitive spot.

You hadn’t realized Robb turned you in the room until he pressed your hand to your side firmly in a warning to keep it there. Reaching over you tried to look but he pulled you back to strain your neck back at him. “Ah, ah you keep your eyes shut for me.”

For a second both his hands left you only to find him yanking both your hands back and wrapping what felt like a rope around your wrists before pulling at it to test how tight it was. Robb knelt down behind you dragging your breeches down slowly. “You drive me insane wearing these, you know that?” Carefully helping you step out of them before he ran his hands up your legs as he stood, grasping your ass roughly with both hands. “Walking around this camp, not even realizing how much every one of them would kill for even a peek at this.”

A smack at your ass pulled a shocked gasp from you before a shaky breathe sent shivers running down your spine. Smacking the same spot again before he roughly groped at the plush skin. “They don’t-”

Another smack, this time harder then either before as his groping increased in greed. “Oh they do, all those men want a piece of my pretty little wife and not one of them will ever get it.” On the unabused cheek, he gently massaged the skin before smacking it too, all the while watching your face twist in a fight of pain and pleasure. “I could walk you out there right now, and not a single one of them wouldn’t be hard as a rock at the sight.”

Stepping forward Robb moved around you to sit on the bed, pulling you carefully up to straddle his lap, when you swallowed nervously at the feeling, his touch turned soft on your hips. “I’ve got you, you’re safe I won’t let you fall.” Shifting back enough so that you could firmly sit in his lap, both your knees pressed against the fur beneath.

Smoothing his palm out to run back and pull you right over his cock by your ass, he other ran along the back of your hair much more gently. He pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, “I’m sorry,” your eyes narrowing in confusion as he kept you on the edge with both his hands on such different places. “About today, all of it. You were angry, then I was so angry I didn’t even bother asking if you were alright.”

Shaking your head, you both hated yet understood why he kept you tied back. It was too easy for you to distract him with your touch, “You have nothing to apologize for, I know you care even if you don’t say it.”

“Aye, that’s the problem.” Like he was trying to drive your senses crazy, Robb ran his mouth along your jaw once more, nipping along the skin on the other side now. “If I don’t ask, you just won’t tell me when you’re not okay. I don’t want you assuming I don’t care if I don’t show it, you do nothing but be there for me and if I’m not doing the same? Then I’m a bad husband.”

Your fingers flexed again, “I love you, and you love me, that’s all we need, Robb. Just us-” you cut yourself off as he bit a little harder, marking the other side of your neck to match his previous. “Are we talking or are you seducing me?”

Smirking into your skin, he pressed his hand into your ass a little tighter, “Can’t it be both?”

“I don’t know, maybe you’ll have to tie me up a little better if you want me to really listen.” Pulling back his eyes were dark as they stared you down, his hand finally moving from your hair down to hold onto the rope tie at your wrists. In a second, the world spun as he pulled you up onto the bed, and flipping you over so your hands sat behind your back.

Robb pushed both your knees open before reaching behind him, pulling a small dagger out. One hand rested on your inner thigh as he kept your eyes on his, so you could watch him carefully tip the blade down to the top of your shirt before slicing into it. The sound of the tearing fabric almost screaming in the silence of the room otherwise. Tossing it down, he pulled back to rest on his knees as he took his own clothes off for you to watch.

Your knees being kept wide apart as he knocked them open more with his own and knelt in between them, watching you grow more and more wet as he undressed. “You think any of them are lucky enough to have a woman like you in their bed, soaking their sheets when they’ barley done anything?”

You shook your head, “They’re not missing anything special.”

Leaning over top of you, you felt his cock slide hard and thick between your legs. “Oh but they are, and they know it. I could buy each and every one of them as many whores as they could handle, but none of them would make them anywhere near as greedy as you make me feel for free.”

Both hands braced beside your head he dragged is cock along more ever so slowly, your voice coming out in strained breaths as you stammered out. “F-fuck, could start charging. Be good for morale.”

Capturing your lips in a biting kiss, Robb wasted no time in deepening it as he let you soak his cock more and more. Pulling your hips up to his level, but never using the leverage to try and tease you more then dragging along your folds. “You think?”

You almost laughed if he didn’t capture your lips between each word before running a hand down, pressing a thumb against your clit, sliding down to gather the wetness he knew you were still giving him and ran small circles against it firmly. Pulling back with a small bite to your bottom lip, Robb slid two fingers deep inside of you, the sound almost obscene with how wet you were around him.

“Those men have no idea do they? Not a clue how much of a needy little whore their Queen is, how desperate she is for her King to fuck her every single night.” His fingers started to thrust slowly, almost pulling out before a rougher push back in, a moan crying from you every time. “Or maybe they do, you don’t seem to bothered about letting them hear you moan like one.”

Your core burning, head thrown back as he suddenly let a third join as he fucked you with them, “Please, Robb, of fuck please, I-” You could barley finish a sentence how worked up he had you, how much your inside twisted with pleasure at the sting three was giving you.

Leaning his head down, he pulled your forehead to rest up against his as he held the back of your neck with a rough voice, “Remember my love, when you asked why would a woman want it to hurt?” You felt lightheaded as you nodded, the wolfish grin ready to devour you as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “It’s only because the one fucking them, knows exactly how far to push before. Knows right where it’ll hurt just the perfect amount that it makes you cum.”

Your whine this time was a little harsher, Robb gently shushing your cries as he slowly shoved a fourth finger inside of you. Your body already sweating from the heat of him on top of you, the fur below and the need inside of you. Tears falling from the side of you as he paused just as he pushed them as deep as they could go, “Talk to me,”

“Don’t stop, please. I, fuck, you make me feel so good I promise.” His smile this time was a little more soft, the gentle kiss a little more innocent. The wetness sounding obscene as he fucked you this way, but the heart pounding pleasure you were feeling in between the aching sting was too good. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

Robb actually breathed out a laugh into your neck, leaving another kiss where his lips lay.

Only in an instant, you felt that coil snap, back arching as much as you could as Robb gently fucked you with his fingers through your orgasm, his lips along your neck making the same bite worse. Pulling them out just as you started to shake, he yanked your hips up and pushed inside of you.

You could barley think as he almost pushed you right into another orgasm, the stretch was thick and you clenched around him from the sparks of pleasure before he started to fuck you. Right up against that spot that had you sing for him, both of his hands now shoving your thighs as far apart as they could go he fucked harder.

Slow, pounding of his cock that slapped against your skin loudly. His eyes dragging over you as you weren’t even trying to hold your moans back. From the deepness of his cock and how each rough fuck sent you closer to burning in the fires you weren’t even sure you were aware of crying out his name, and how much Robb groaned each time.

All you could see and feel was him, and your heart pounded suddenly at the idea that he would ever consider you wouldn’t be there for him. The wolf making you feel utterly crazy from his touch like he wanted to possess you as much as you had his own mind and heart.

Almost falling on top of you, like Robb needed to feel you pressed against his skin, he buried his face in your neck as his hands roamed all over you. You pushed closer to the edge and this time the fall off would be into waters you never wanted to swim up from.

“Robb, please, fuck, cum inside me, my love. My king, please I want to feel you so badly,” The hair around his cock rubbing against your clit as his facial hair did the marks on your neck. His cock pushing hard against such a sensitive spot inside you that you snapped, coil twisting and breaking as your orgasm pushed you off the cliff. Arching into him and Robb holding you close as his hips fucked into you now faster as he seeked his own end deep inside of you.

“My needy girl wants me to fill her?” His voice rough as it was cracking from his own pleasure, your thighs burned from the strain, your neck from his teeth and your hips already sore from how hard he was pounding inside of you.

“Make me yours, Robb.”

Something came over him as he reached his orgasm. His hands on you rough as he started to cum, hot and thick like you could feel every drop of it deep as he spilled inside of you. His teeth clenched onto your neck and for a split second it was like as he came, he was gone and an aggressive and loud growling came from Grey Wind just outside.

Only just as he started, he stopped and Robb pulled back to press his lips against yours.

It took some time to come down, for both of you. Robb undoing the rope as he turned you onto your side away from the entrance as Grey Wind wandered in. You were pulled back into his chest as you both held the others hands tightly between your breasts as you both settled your hearts.

It was late into the night when he spoke quietly to you, “We need to meet with him, both of us. If he has Renly’s men now, he might stand a chance.”

Snuggling back into his touch, you sighed at how warm he felt. “He thinks I’m a traitor, thinks you’ve stolen half his kingdom.”

“All the more reason to try, we combine our numbers then the Lannisters have no legs to stand on, and if he doesn’t? I may have an idea for that anyways.”

Laughing lightly, your eyes slipped closed as he ran his nose along the back of your hair. “You think about my father a lot when we’re in bed, your grace?”

You got a smack on your ass one more time for that one. He likely could tell you were too close to slipping away to get into it, but Robb was awake for some time that night. Not only was his head stirring with any and every strategy he could conjure these days, but also at one other thing. Renly Baratheon being killed by a black mist in the shape of a man didn’t seem to insane, not to Robb.

Not when he could no longer pretend what was happening with Grey Wind was just his imagination.

Another direwolf on the other side of the world also sat curled up close to his master, but there was no sense of calm as they lay there that night.

One more night out in the cold beyond the wall, and another night Jons dreams were filled with tormenting images of you and Robb. Like the old gods were cursing him, more then they already currently were. You were his brothers now, he shouldn’t be forced to have such dreams that drive him insane, haunt him with knowing what you sound like in ways he almost had.

It was impossible to forget you in the dead of night, when something was filling his mind with sights and sounds of you and too many of them were like an alluring mockery of what Jon knew he gave up. But as he looked up in front of him one of the two actual things he could see just made this worse then being stuck here already felt.

Ghost first, being the only comfort he still had, beside him and facing the second figure carefully. His sharp red eyes watching as on guard as Jon’s grey ones were. It almost made him more frustrated. The woman who spoke as if she had no hypocritical thoughts that she spat at him, as if her kind hadn’t done as much bad as his and yet she never knew when to stop that mocking.

Taunting him for what she caught right away as inexperience and did she ever torment him for it. She had the gall to act as if The Night’s Watch were the true irredeemable enemy, and yet here Jon was, a grown man who certainly knew how to fight, having to put his own direwolf between them at night just to keep her aggressive advances away from him.

Whatever she thought this was, Jon couldn’t possibly tell her enough times she was wrong. She refused to listen, mocked him, and had no care of being told no. And now, each night he was mocked by dreams of the one person who showed him the exact opposite of the abuse thrown at him currently.

With the brother who always got what Jon never did, and still the one person who was the only thing Jon once ever had to himself. Ygritte could taunt him all she wanted for whatever she thinks he doesn’t know.

But Jon certainly did know what being consumed with a burning love for you feels like, and how much he hated that being forced closer to the wildling made him feel like a traitor to you.

He had to watch you and his brother for who knows why, but he told you to do it. To find love with Robb, and you listened to him, you always listened to Jon. But for him, on top of everything in this new life he had to deal with, feeling like Ygritte’s advances somehow betrayed him to you even now?

Just let the cold of the night take him out already, he thought.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #game of thrones #jon snow #robb stark #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine #game of thrones imagine

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literary-illuminati · 30 days

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2024 Book Review #20 – Foundryside by Robert Jackson Bennett

I’ve in theory been a big fan of Bennett for a couple years now, having adored American Elsewhere when I read it. I say ‘in theory’ because I had not actually followed that up by reading any of his other stuff until I happened to see him doing an AMA on r/fantasy and was jolted to go put something of his on hold. The most convenient option was Foundryside so, here we are.

The story follows Sancia, a former slave-turned-magical-experiment who now uses her rather inconveniently always-on sort of object empathy to be a really excellent thief for hire in the hopes of earning enough cash to pay some black market surgeon to make her normal again and then stay quiet about it. That price tag lures her into accepting a job for an eye-watering amount of money from what it clearly one of the merchant houses who rule the city – which she discovers to be an ancient relic, a key that can open any lock. And talk to her. And revolutionize the entire industry of enchanting upon which the city’s fortune and empire are built. She correctly assumes that there’s no way they’re planning to let her live after turning it (him) over, and things spiral out of control from there.

It’s fundamentally a heist story, with all the main action setpieces being about breaking into places and stealing things. And like all good heist stories, the protagonists are totally incapable of winning through anything like brute force, and have to be clever bastards about it – sneaking past guards, not slaughtering them in the night. Those heist sequences are all vividly described and just a lot of fun, almost worth the price of admission on their own.

So this is the rare story where calling it ‘magipunk’ is both accurate and helpful. Which is to say, it is almost literally a cyberpunk story translated into the idiom of vaguely-early-modern fantasy city states instead of corporate arcologies. Scheming oligarchs, overmighty corporate states, miraculous technologies that are only felt by the underclass as news ways of being oppressed and objectified, the works. The most triumphant and hopeful part of the ending involves the founding of a worker’s coop that doesn’t get immoderately crushed. Notably useful and plot-relevant enchanted items include a listening device, trackers, and a powered gliding rig. It’s only when you really get into it that the magic starts feeling at all magical, is what I’m saying – you could translate almost all of this into Cyberpunk 2020 terms in a couple of hours. I think it’s quite fun.

Sancia’s whole backstory – a slave on one of the plantations supplying the city with food and spices, taken as a subject for bloody experimentation in creating perfectly obedient magical cyborgs, surviving and escaping because they got sloppy with occult grammar and reality interpreted ‘be like object’ as ‘be like [INSERT NEAREST OBJECT HERE]’ – is fun on a few different levels. The story definitely leans into a running theme of the reduction of the powerless and subordinate to literal objects and tools wielded by those who control them, both metaphorically and literally. But also there’s an absolutely great beat where she’s explaining her story to the rest of the main cast who are all horrified and disgusted that anyone would do such a thing. To which she reacts very angrily and goes ‘you know that isn’t, like, worse than the whole rest of the chattel slave economy, right? More people get horribly tortured to death as part of everyday operations than creepy magical experiments?”

Sancia as a character is just a lot of fun to spend time in the head of, honestly. Her relationship with Clef (the magical key, the more literal example of being objectified and insturmentalized by one’s masters) is the core dynamic of the first ~half of the book, and it absolutely carries it. Though in the final act it then runs into the very common action/adventure story issue where she starts talking about this guy she’d known for barely a week like a life-long friend she’s shared more good times than she could count with. Entirely forgivable but like, it does stand out.

There’s this whole subtheme of, like, futile misogyny running through the text? It’s never explicitly brought up, and the only character whose actually vocally sexist on the page is the asshole philistine moneygrubbing abusive husband wannabe-coupist you’re clearly supposed to hate. But it’s a repeatedly mentioned point that the culture of enchanting grew significantly more patriarchal in the previous generation (for unstated reasons, possibly just the one epoch-defining genius being a misogynistic ass) and that this was very bad for the career prospects of several major characters. Despite this, important women in the story include a) half the main cast, b) the only competent and attentive head of any of the four merchant houses and c) the enchanting-prodigy wife of aforementioned sexist asshole who turns out to have been feeding him every useful idea he ever had until she could kill him and scoop up everything he’s gathered. This is one of those things that amuses me because it’s clearly deliberate but is never directly mentioned.

This is also one of those books that’s queer rep not in the revolutionary groundbreaking it’s-a-core-part-of-the-tezt way, but in the ‘wow isn’t it great how normal and unremarkable queer representation is now?’ way. Like, Sancia is gay, which is one of remarkably few things about herself she never expresses a single moment of angst, anger or self-doubt about, and she has the sort of C-plot romance subplot every adventure story is obligated to (right down to agreeing to go out for a drink if she survives the last big heist), but with a woman. Her sexuality otherwise basically doesn’t matter. When people ask for queer SFF book recommendations I’m never sure if offering stuff like this is missing the point or exactly what’s desired.

As mentioned, the only other book of Bennett’s I’ve read is American Elsewhere. Which was an absolutely horrible way to set my expectations going into this. Foundryside is fun adventure fantasy, but it has far fewer literary pretensions. The prose is incredibly readable – it’s absolutely a page turner – but that’s basically all it aspires to be. Elsewhere had several different passages I stopped and reread just for the pleasure of it, Foundryside I went back and reread only when I skimmed past some important detail and got confused.

But it’s a really fun fantasy heist story, and the sequel promises to be about a rampant artificial intelligence clockwork djinn which turned against the ancients who made her. So I’m sure I’ll get to it sooner rather than latter.

#book review #foundryside #robert jackson bennett #sff

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dragon-chica · 1 year

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Wednesday Addams General NSF W Headcanons

Fandom: Wednesday

Warnings: Rough sex and kinks, fully consensual harm, idealization of death, it's Wednesday.

Bloodplay is one of her favorite activities. She loves seeing your skin covered in beautiful crimson and licking it off of you, the way your breath heaves as she becoming enamored with a simple cut and her blown pupils staring up at you while her tongue swipes across it.

"I've always enjoyed the phrase 'sticks and stones may break my bones, but chains and whips excite me.' don't you agree?" she says eyeing you up, a hint for later perhaps.

Choking. To the point of where she's about to/may pass out. She imagines you're really ending her, in the throws of bliss and dying by the hands of her true love.

Flogging or whips, she doesn't care for spanking but loves the marks or sometimes welts left behind.

Gods does she love to torment you, but she takes as well as she gives. From drawing everything out as long as possible to literally tormenting you.

She's not one for marking where others can see, and isn't happy when you happen to leave visible marks on her, but she's incredibly possessive and believes it should already be clear that she doesn't share.

You two switch regularly. Even if you usually are into bottoming, there's something about the way she's so prideful and stubborn that goads you into giving her a taste of her own medicine, and reveling in how she eventually crumbles for you.

She is a brat. You're not entirely sure if she's trying to piss you off into taking it out on her, or if she really thinks herself to be so high and mighty trying to talk down to you while she's pinned and handcuffed and your mercy but you remind her soon enough.

Overstimulation. Pain and pleasure, pleasure until it becomes pain is her favorite part. Bringing you the relief of a hard won orgasm then not letting up until you're begging her, that's it's too much. That it hurts. But you were just pleading for her not to stop? To give you more? She's only doing as you asked.

When you do the same to her it's so satisfying to watch her crack. It takes time and patience to make her fall apart but you've learned her weaknesses as well as she knows yours.

Very sarcastic and sadistic, talking down to you.

She's not into voyeur or other's seeing or knowing what you do together. You're hers. To know and have. You're dating an Addams, and that means devotion.

Her hobby of experimenting with sex largely includes her love of torture methods. Slightly adjusted for your enjoyment, but she's willing to try the real thing if you'll do it to her. She can take it. She gives you a challenging stare if you falter.

Honestly you probably find some of the things she's into pretty concerning. You trust her to not truly harm you, which shows a lot, but she wants you to do some hardcore things to her that are hardly sexual and just seem like she has a pain kink that's a little too far.

Waxplay. Specifically with vampire tear candles, but red will also do. She likes it to be candlelit anyway so it's convenient as well.

Wednesday can be sort of clinical in her observations at times. She likes to know exactly what makes you tick and will makes notes from time to time. You're scared to know what's actually in that book.

Bondage. Probably the biggest thing you do is tying each other up and having your way. From intricate shibari to antique manacles that hang in her room presumably for 'decoration'.

If you have a dick she would be ruthless with cock and ball torture. If you don't have a pain kink, you likely would soon without ever having expected it.

She loves the intimacy of knowing exactly what makes her partner tick and plans to learn everything about you.

I lied. I said I was going to work on other characters for a bit. Here's this. I'm sure I could go on, but that's all for now.

#Wednesday Addams x reader #Wednesday Addams imagine #Wednesday x reader #Wednesday imagine #my stuff

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opposums-love-arson · 8 months

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Scream Queen Book 1: Conventional Final Girl

Chapter 5

Chapter 4 / Chapter 6

P.S. lmk if y'all would like to be added to the tag list

“Sidney Prescott and (y/n) (l/n) both escaped a vicious attack last night but one of them is the daughter of Maurine Prescott, who was brutally murdered last year when convicted killer Cotton Weary broke into their home and savagely raped and tortured the deceased. Cotton Weary is currently awaiting an appeal for the death sentence, handed down after the young Sidney testified against him…” The reporter just went on and on through the tv screen. Tatum was rubbing Sid’s arm as a sign of everything will be okay. I held Sid’s hand to signify the same message, gently squeezing it so she knows she’s not alone. “It’s never going to stop is it?” She asked with a small chuckle.

As Dewey sat across from us he notified, “Billy was released.”

Sidney’s face faltered once she heard this, I think she’s still afraid of it all. I on the other hand slouched back with a wave of relief.

“His celular bill was clean, he didn’t make those calls,” Dewey said as he sat back in the chair, “We’re checking every celular account in the county. Any calls made to you two or Casey Becker are being cross referenced, it’s going to take some time but we’ll find 'em.”

I squeezed Sid’s hand again and Tatum lightly punched her arm. “Okay,” was all Sid could really say right now.

“We’ve got this, Sis.” I said to her with a small smile.

I guess pulling up to school in a patrol car was cool? Kind of gave a real “Back off” vibe when we stepped on the school grounds. “Don’t worry girls, it’s school. You’ll be safe here.” Dewey reassured us...but if there’s a possibility that the killer is another student, is it really all that safe? Reporters swarmed us once Sid and I were completely out of the car. One woman going as far as asking, “So how does it feel to be almost brutally butchered?” Seriously what thee fuck? Sid and Tatum walked ahead of me right as I was ready to hook it to another reporter like I did to Gale. Sadly enough though I was stopped by two pairs of arms holding me back while my legs went swinging.

“Let me at ‘em!” I exclaimed to my mystery captors.

“Not a chance little Nancy Thompson,” I could hear Randy’s voice from my left.

“Yeah these reporters are worse than any Freddy Kruger!” And then there was Stu’s cackle from the right.

“Fine screw it, I just don’t want to see anymore of them haggling Sid again.” I said as I slightly jumped out at the flock of reporters.

“Uh, where did Sid go anyways” I asked the two boys as I spun around. Finally seeing her talking to Weathers I tried to beeline but Stu held me back.

“Dude, (y/n) slow your roll. Syd’s just talking to her,” Stu said as he secured me against his chest. I did my best to hide the red embarrassment all over my face.

“Yeah probably fixing the mess you made last night,” Randy said as he rolled my eyes.

His words struck something in me, I just calmed down and stopped fight Stu’s hold, if anything I was holding myself now.

Stu punched Randy in the arm before said, “Way to go man.”

“Wha- I-” Randy was about to pick his own fight with Stu again.

I beat them to it when I turned around still in Stu’s grasp and said, “No he’s right, what I did last night was reckless and now Sidney is the one who has to clean it up.” I leaned my head on Stu’s chest.

“C’mon (y/n), it wasn’t that bad?” Randy backpedaled on his words to try and make me feel better but lets face it, when you punch someone on national tv… it’s pretty bad.

At our lockers we waited around for the bell to ring. “This is a mistake, we shouldn't be here,” Sid said as she gathered her books. I’m honestly with her on that, it’s a total scare fest in the halls today. “I want you to meet me right here after class, okay Sid?” Tatum addressed my step sister but left me out of the question. Peaking my head over my locker door I arched an eyebrow. “I’ll walk you out of class (y/n),” Stu pipped in before looking at himself in a mirror. “Yeah okay Chicken Stew,” I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh at my own pun. I thought Stu would’ve laughed but before he could Sid said, “Hey I haven’t really seen Billy around, is he really pissed?” What the fuck Sidney? I thought. “Oh after you branded him the Candyman? No, his heart’s broken!” Stu exclaimed, earning a punch from Tatum. He said “ow” as Tatum said his name in a stern frustrated manner.

Someone came running down the hall in what’s now been dubbed the ‘Ghostface’ costume as they screamed bloody murder while jumping out at people. I let out a squeal before grabbing hold of Stu’s tan and white over shirt. Feeling heat rise up to my face I quickly let go and lightly brushed out my hair to compose myself. Stu turned around and pinched my cheeks, “Awe is (y/n) scewed of da big bad boo-gy man?” I swatted his hands away while saying, “Given recent events, yeah obviously.” Shuffling past Stu and over to Sid I notice his expression change for a split second for playful to envious. “Come on (y/n), you punched Gale Weathers on live news, I think you’ll be fine if you get yelled at by a kid in a costume,” Tatum said as she playfully rolled her eyes with a smirk. I couldn’t take it anymore, whether it was the embarrassment, the fear, the secrets, or the regret. I just couldn’t. I ran off from the group as both Tatum and Sid shouted after me.

As I ran down the hall I bumped into another figure.

“Shit!” I exclaimed as I pushed off of them.

“Hey it’s just me,” I heard an all too familiar voice say to me.

“Oh-oh… Billy,” I said as I backed away.

Waving his index finger between us he asked, “You still think it’s me?”

I reassure him I don’t by saying, “No, I don’t I was just shocked to see you.” As I fiddled with my shirt.

“I swear it’s not me (y/n),” Billy said stepping forward.

Looking up at him I said, “I know Billy, there was still someone in the house that night though. So can you please-” I cut myself off seeing the lack of inches in the space between Billy and I.

“I know, I know, the cops say I scared him away. It wasn’t me (y/n).” He said as he looked down at me a little.

“I know, he called us again when we were at Tatum’s…”

“See! Couldn’t have been me, I was in jail,” Billy said as he turned over his hands to reveal inky fingerprints. “Remember?”

“I’m sorry, but please understand,” I started as I looked up.

“Understand what? My girlfriend and her little step sister would rather accuse me of being a psychopathic killer than touch me?” Billy looked back down at me, I could smell the spearmint gum roll off his breath.

“You know that’s not true…” I said as I knitted my eyebrows together and grabbed a hold of his arm.

“Then what is it?” He asked, hurt and confusion heard in his voice.

“Billy, Sid and I were attacked and nearly filleted last night?!” I asked, slightly appalled he’d even ask as if it weren’t clear.

“I mean between us…” Billy said as his eyes stared down into my soul with an intensity I’ve never seen before.

“What do you mean between us?” I asked at this point very confused as I let go of him and take a step back.

“Isn't it obvious (y/n)? For the past five months, the smirks, the glances, the nudging, the little notes, Stu and I being practically all over you?” Billy said as he used his free hand that wasn’t on the banister to wave around.

“No it wasn’t obvious! I mean Stu I knew about but you?! Billy, you’re my sister’s boyfriend!” I exclaimed, getting justifiably annoyed and upset.

“Not anymore, she practically broke up with me the night at the station!” He raised his voice, making me flinch a little, he must’ve noticed since he let his body relax a little.

“Look Billy I’ve had a crush on you and Stu for months but I know for sure this isn’t the way to go about things. Sidney didn’t say she broke up with you and I’m not going to just be a rebound to make her jealous.” I said resting my hand above his on the banister.

Billy scoffed before saying, “(y/n), be real here Sid doesn’t want to see me anymore and like I said, the past five months…” Billy let his words trail off as he came closer to me, placing his hand on my forearm. Just like at the lockers my head was racing and everything felt so wrong, I just couldn’t take it. I just stepped away, shaking my head while I walked off letting Billy shout my name.

Turning around to look at him I said, “I’m sorry if me having good morality for my sister’s relationship is an inconvenience to you and your perfect existence!” I exclaimed before turning back round.

“What? What do yo- Nobody said that, (y/n)!” Billy shouted after me but it just faded out as I ran away.

Stomping my way into the bathroom I make my way over to one of the sinks, I dig in my backpack for an aspirin or something.

“They were never attacked, I think they made it all up,” I heard one of the bathroom stalls say.

“Why would they lie about that?” A girl in another stall asked

“For attention, the girl and her sister have some serious issues!” The first girl replies.

Part of me wanted to hide in the bathroom stall like the sad girls in the movies always did but then I remembered, this is life. In life you just gotta roll with the punches, so I’m doing just that, except this time I might punch back. Right when the two walk out of the stalls their faces dropped. Yeah I assumed seeing the face of one of your gossip subjects will do that to ya. I kept staring at them as they washed their hands, too scared to even look in my general direction. As they walked out I did that stupid petty way where you swish your fingers up and down. Finally I can cry in peace, I thought as I walked into an empty stall. Deciding that the short few seconds I’ve been in here were enough for me to feel refreshed I walk out, my eyes red and puffy while my lashes stick together.

“Pathetic,” I said into the mirror. I always thought I held myself to a higher standard than this, not really with the crying thing. More so with the Stu and Billy thing…

I don’t have time to think about it much when I hear a strange noise in the restroom. Getting low to the ground I check underneath all the stalls. Empty. Looking around I notice a loud vent in the wall, that must’ve been it. As I go back to shuffling around my bag I could’ve sworn I heard someone whisper my name. Maybe it’s better to ignore it? Slowly and carefully I get back down low to check again. This time I’m met with a pair of beat up leather work boots dropping down from the stall. “Oh shit,” I whispered to myself.

The stall door unlatches quickly and I try to make a run for it but I’m caught by the Ghostface.

Thrashing around as he holds back my arms I asked, “Alright real funny, who is it? Stu, Rand, Billy? If this is some sort of pay back then it won’t work!” The man behind the mask said nothing, but he violently jerked my face to the bathroom mirror. “What?” I ask, my face clearly showing malevolence towards whoever it is pulling the prank. That was until he pulled out an eight-inch long hunting knife. He slowly and lightly dragged the knife along my torso, from the collar of my cropped shirt all the way down to the button of my low rise jeans, applying extra pressure near my zipper. “Ya’ know if I wasn’t so skeptical about you trying to kill me right now we could probably take this in a very different direction,” I said as a more matter-of-factly sentence. I’m not sure if this shocked the masked murderer or gave him a change of heart but his grip loosen and I BOOKED IT! I slammed the bathroom door open passing by a couple of teachers but I really just wanted to get the hell out of here.

After calming down a little bit I got outside of the school just quick enough to hear Principal Himbry say, “Attention now kids, due to the recent events that have occurred effective immediately, all classes are suspended until further notice,” Holy shit, “The Woodsboro police department has issued a citywide curfew beginning at nine o’clock tonight.” The whooping and hollering cheers that were so loud just a second ago died down into monotone boos. At least we’re out of school?

“It was just some sick fuck having a laugh, sue me.” Tatum said as she rolled her eyes at me.

“No, it was him Tatum I know it. Or else he wouldn’t have had a huge ass hunting knife!” I exclaimed in a huff.

“Okay well, you're not to be alone anymore. If you pee, we all pee. Is that clear?” Asked Tatum

Sid and I looked each other up and now simultaneously say, “Ew, please no.”

Spooking up from behind us was Stu as he blabbered nonsensical words that most likely would’ve made sense if we were paying attention.

“I don’t know what you did girls,” He said handing each of us flowers, “but on behalf of the entire student body we all say THANK YOU!” Stu shouted full force from his lungs.

“Stop it Stu,” Tatum said as she hit him with the little purple flower.

I was so distracted by the two that I didn’t notice Stu change targets and come barreling towards me, hoisting me over his shoulder.

“Stu! Oh my god asshole! I’d like to be returned to the security of my feet on the ground!” I shout at I hit his back with my palms.

In the midst of my one sided battle Stu announces, “To celebrate this impromptu fall break, I propose we have a party. Tonight at my house!”

Looking over to my right I see my step sister’s face contort into an emotion of unease, “Are your sure?”

“Yeah as long as this little vixen doesn’t invite the entire world!” Stu exclaims as he motions to his girlfriend who is currently keeping me company by swinging my free hand.

Stu goes on by saying, “Intimate gather, intimate friends,” whilst poking my thigh right below my ass. He should be glad Tatum didn’t see that one.

“What do you say Sid? I mean pathos could have it’s perks?” Tatum piped up just as Stu let me down. Now Tatum and I have switched spots beside Stu.

“Could totally protect you, yo I’m so buff, I got you covered bro!” Stu does a macho man impersonation as he twirls around Tatum.

I fall a little back from the group, wondering if Billy will be there… he most likely will, won’t he?

“I mean c'mon Sid? (Y/n), you with me? It could be fun.” Tatum says as she turns to us both.

While the girls were focused on each other Stu looked over at me and snapped me out of my thoughts, literally. The loud noise made me look up.

“Huh?” I asked, looking at the trio in front of me.

“The party (y/n), you in?” Tatum asked as Stu kissed her neck

“Yeah fine, whatever. I’m in,” I said as I walked up in front of them.

“Niiice,” Stu growled out, “Cool, you guys bring food, alright?”

I don't know what it was but Stu did something which prompted me to shout, “You’re being weird Stu!”

#scream 1996 #scream fanfic #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #stu macher x reader #billy x reader #scream #scream x yn #stu x reader #halloween

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stellocchia · 6 months

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Even now, I still don't understand the logic behind having the Disc War Finale be faked when it was executed the way it was. Specifically, having Dream want to go to jail.

I'm assuming that, by the time the reveal happened, they already decided that Dream and Punz both knew how the Revival Book worked. And, regardless if they did or not, the characters canonically already knew. They'd been experimenting.

With that knowledge, if Punz gaining the trust of the public (which was never actually used in any context ever, so, even that is a very debatable gain to aim for?) was the aim, them killing Dream in front of everyone and then reviving him once they all left would have served the goal just as well if not better?

Like, what did Dream gain from actually going to prison? To the prison, he specifically made awful on purpose? Literally nothing. Just some torture which, sure, he could not have foreseen, but he knew his permanence in there would not be pleasant. He also, like, didn't give Punz the blueprints that explained how to get him out? Which meant that not only Punz couldn't help directly, but he couldn't even get Techno to pay back the favor and get him out that way. Which means that Dream's brilliant plan of being in prison for a while was wholly reliant on Techno giving enough of a shit to remember the favor and decide to pay it back, and then also on Dream giving him the location of the blueprints and hoping that Techno had a way to safely get out alive with that information.

Like, sure, it happened after well over a year, but that was not a concrete plan by any means. It couldn't be. Chucking books at the warden until he was let out would honestly have been just as well thought-out!

And, for all of that time, Punz didn't do much in general. He got mind-controlled for a while and that's about it. He didn't use the time to gain intel or allies or even spread 'Dream isn't that bad' propaganda. He did jack shit with it. So Dream got out right back where he started off.

And the thing is, there was still a way they could have played this out effectively.

They could have gone for an approach that humanized Dream (so we didn't have to have the child he abused later on be the one who realized his "humanity" and apologized, because that was laughably ridiculous and a terrible decision, though that's a rant for another day) by making it so that the original plan WAS the kill and revive Dream one, but, at the last moment, when it should have happened, Dream got scared.

Fear of death is a very human thing to have. It could have been interesting for him. A character who sees himself as a god with no weaknesses and no attachments, still so attached to his own life and scared of his own mortality. It's even in line with his desire for immortality!

And that's when he blurted out about the revival book and begged not to be killed. And Punz, still trying to gain the favor of the masses, couldn't go against their will when the plan shifted from killing Dream to trapping him.

It could have been interesting. It would be a loss for them, but one that would, funnily enough, make Dream look like less of a complete and utter moron than the "win" they got.

It would explore his character's weaknesses and his hubris. His belief that he's above the ridiculous attachments the rest of the server is plagued by would be the very thing that crumbled beneath his feet and caused his fall.

But, instead of that, we got the nonsensical "lmao I'm always 10 step ahead of everyone... what do you mean I walked into a plothole?" story instead. What a waste.

#dream smp #dsmp #dream smp analysis #c!dream #c!punz #staged duo #staged duo critical #dream smp critical #ultimately no character without weaknesses is fun #and no character who never loses is fun #not even when they're villains #and trying to spin c!dream's biggest loss as a victory is what fucked them

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oval3000 · 7 months

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Final Chapter.

"Hello"

Simon Riley x Reader

Not my art! Not my characters!

After defeating Makorav, Simon went back home to enjoy his night rest. The next day he heard noises outside his apartment. When he went to see who was making those noises, by peaking through the eye hole on his door, he saw you. He never thought you would change his life forever.

!WARNING ⚠️ Terrible grammer, past abuse, abuse, ptsd, trauma, swearing, Obsession, Possessive,Gore, death,boring story. Different story plot then the game (Makorav dead)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

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"Sweetheart? Are you alright?" You heard Simon knocking on the bathroom door. You got up from the toilet, flushing the vomit you released. He opened the door, seeing you wash your face and rinse your mouth with mouthwash.

"Yes, I think I ate something bad. Maybe food poison?" You sat back down on the closed toilet seat.

He bend down to your eye level. "You've been sick this past week. I'll pick something up from the drug store. Why don't you go back to bed and rest."

You laid down and quickly went back to sleep. You've been feeling sick and tired lately. It was honestly alarming you. Alarming because you know Simon won't risk to bring you to the doctor and get an actual check up. He trust you. Enough to let you roam around the house. Not enough for you to go out in public. Not because he thinks you're going to escape. Oh no, he already achieved his goal. His dream. You love him. You both shared love and intimacy, he knows you love him. Is just....he worked hard killing those who got in his way to get to you. He would hate if a curious police officer talk to you and we all know they roam freely in hospitals.

He glanced all over the shelves where all the different types of pills a person might need. Picking each one to examine it.

He looked over after hearing a men's voice, who's talking through the phone. "Just tell her to take a pregnancy test, she's probably pregnant, knowing her it won't be surprising."

Simon placed the bottle back on the shelf and went to the women's aisle.

He picked a few boxes...and some prenatuals.

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You were cutting up some vegetables ready to throw to the pot. You felt a pair of arms hugging around your waist.

Your felt his palm on your belly. Your swollen belly.

You're at the night month mark of your pregnancy, ready to pop any second. "You should be resting, love."

"I'm hungry." You felt his lips on your neck.

"I could make food for you. I could take care of you. Let me help you."

You are uncomfortable. Didn't know pregnancy was this hard and...painful.

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"AAH! AAAH! IT HURTS SIMON."

"I know I know. You have to push love you have to."

"I can't! It hurts! Simon I'm gonna die!"

"YOU ARE NOT GOING TO DIE! You're gonna be fine."

Such a fool. Can't take you to the doctor cause he's afraid. Afraid of someone taking you away from him, you leaving him. His paranoia got to him and is causing you harm.

They call him Ghost. That's his name. That's who he is. He's Ghost.

Ghost is what he is and Ghost is how he looks like seeing a puddle of blood down between your legs.

His pale face matching his mask. His throat felt so dry it was hard to swallow. His hands began to shake. He's not a doctor. Not really familiar with pregnancy. Even after purchasing all those books to help him guide you through this, he can't think clearly.

He can't-

"Simon! I can't push. It hurts so much!" Your looked at him, sweat dripping down your face your heavy eyes wanting to close up.

You heart pounding so hard and fast it feels like it's going to explode.

"I- I...I'm so sorry love." He came to you cupping your face with his shaky hands. He's been through torture, so much torture. This was his last. He kissed you deeply. Leaving trails of kisses all over you face. "I'm so sorry please forgive me. Please. Please"

You couldn't understand, you didn't have any energy left. Well only when you felt your hands tied up to the bed and a piece of cloth shoved in your mouth.

Your felt life flash before your eyes as you let out a muffle scream you felt a sharp pain going through your body..through your belly.

This was it. You were gonna die

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Soap got out of his vehicle. After getting a distress call from Simon, he knew something was wrong.

He was right. Seeing Simon sitting down on the front porch carrying an infant baby with his bloody hands.

Soap called out to him. To get his attention, but all Simon could do is to stare and the baby boy in his arms.

Soap entered the house and made his way down to the bedroom, following the bloody footprints of Simon's shoe. He saw you. Your lifeless body tied to the bed. Your belly cut wide open. Blood all over the sheets and floor.

"Simon what happened!? Simon!?"

Simon did loose you he lost you. After a everything. After trying to protect you and to help you with everything. He actually lost you.

He killed you

You were his new neighbor. A stranger and now you're dead.

Soap stood back.

Hearing Simon letting out a small laugh, cradling the infant baby turning into a crying laughter.

His tortured never ended, this was it.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #fanfic #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #yandere simon riley #simon riley x you

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sofoulandfairaday · 9 months

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for @monicafave who asked me about my opinions on Lucius Malfoy.

TW: very brief mention of sexual assault (DE crimes).

Honestly, one of the (few) improvements the movies made on the books. Jason Isaacs is hot. And has so much charisma when playing the villain I cannot see anyone else doing the character justice in the remake. Also, Lucius doesn't have long hair in the books, but it's the only way I imagine him (my headcanon is that Draco grew his hair out eventually too). Also, the choice to make him unshaven in the last movies? Gold. 10/10.

He wore his hair a little shorter in the First War, but still long enough it could be tied back with a ribbon.

Is a victim to one of the worst takes in the entirety of the Harry Potter fandom of all time, which is of course abused!Draco. It angers me more than abused!Black Sisters, or abused!Remus... grrrr, it makes me so mad. If there is one (1) character in the entirety of the Harry Potter fandom, only ONE that we can be sure wasn't abused by his parents, that was Draco. Where - where? - do people get the absurd idea that Lucius was a cruel father and husband, who routinely cheated on his wife and beat her and their son?

(Also, imagine beating/cursing Narcissa Black, who was not only vicious herself, but also the beloved only sister of Bellatrix Black Lestrange. Like. Who would do that? Madmen wouldn't do that.)

Abusive Lucius for the sake of being cruel makes me laugh. It makes me giggle. The man wouldn't be able to correctly use a Stinging Jinx, never mind the fucking Cruciatus Curse, on either of them if Lord Voldemort was pointing his wand directly between his eyes. Although-

Yes, he is a coward. Which, by the way, there is a big difference between being unable to actively hurt your family members and passively standing by when they are threatened/tortured. The big, realistic failure of Lucius, the one that would sour his image in both Draco & Narcissa's minds by the end of DH, is not that he hurts them directly, it's that he says nothing, does nothing, when his son is branded by the Dark Lord and sent on a suicide mission, is that he says nothing, does nothing, when his wife and son are openly mocked by the Death Eaters, who do as they please in his own home. If Voldemort threatened to torture either of them, Lucius would probably fall to his knees, beg for mercy, but he would not, could not bring himself to stand up and dive in front of the curse. He would watch, horrified, as they are tortured- that is what spoils their view of him in the end.

As the author herself has said, the Malfoys' saving grace is that they love each other.

His fault is cowardice, not cruelty (to family at least) and that's the hill I'll die on.

Lucius, as a character, represents the banality of evil. Indifference. Cowardice. Casual cruelty. Upholding of unjust systems. Not sadism. If you don't understand the difference, you're a bad writer.

Moving on.

He was highly competent in the First War. And by competent I mean competent. There is no way this guy was Voldemort's... second in command (?) or at least one of his top-ranking Death Eaters if he acted anything like he did post-Voldemort's rebirth.

I don't know whether to cry or laugh at his character, actually. He's so petty (he tries to ban The Fountain of Magical Fortune from the Hogwarts Library because it depicts the relationship between a witch and a Muggle, which he deems obscene, and when Dumbledore replies “Nu-uh, suck it, I know about all the Half-bloods in your family tree you hide”, the response prompted several further letters from Lucius, consisting of "opprobrious remarks" on Dumbledore's sanity, parentage, and hygiene).

He's a simp for his wife, whom he loves more than anything in the world (except maybe for Draco). He tries to send Draco to Durmstrang, where Karkaroff is headmaster and no Muggleborns are allowed, and Narcissa says “No, I want my son close to home” and that's the end of that. He puts up with having Bellatrix in his house (she really doesn't like him), and the two of them don't kill each other merely for Cissa's sake.

In my headcanons, they didn't hate each other in the First War. They weren't best friends by any means but they respected each other well enough and had a somewhat cordial if a bit prickly relationship (although, I love fics that get their bickering right). But then Halloween 1981 happens. I have a lot of headcanons for that night and I don't think I've ever really detailed them, so I will now.

They have an early dinner all together - Lucius, Narcissa, Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan - and then the Lestranges leave. After the clock strikes ten, they feel a searing pain in their forearms. The Mark is gone. There are a few minutes of what the fuck do we do now and two very distinct ideas pop up. Bellatrix would rather die than forsake Voldemort, she's willing to battle every soul in Britain if it means finding him. He is not dead, he is not. He is immortal. They have him, they've captured him with some weird trick and are holding him hostage. Lucius, on the other hand, takes a good, hard look at his left forearm and decides well, this fucking sucks but at least we had a good run. He is not about to risk his family name by picking duels with the Aurors. The second after he's waltzing in the Ministry, telling everyone who'll listen that he's just woken up from the Imperius Curse, and blackmailing/bribing/threatening his way out of Azkaban. You must do the same!, Lucius and Narcissa tell Bellatrix. Traitors, backstabbers, vermin, is the reply. She is truly, seriously, hurt and furious that they would denounce the Dark Lord. To her, it's the most horrid of betrayals.

This is when she loses her second sister. It's the moment Narcissa makes it clear that not only she will denounce Voldemort with every breath, but she will stop Lucius from going after a dead master. We have a son, Bella, he is our priority. We have a son, and you do not. You don't know what it means. It's a nice little parallel to the end of Deathly Hallows - I cannot stress this enough: Narcissa's lie to save her son causes her sister's death. Narcissa indirectly kills her. Bellatrix and Narcissa's relationship is never the same after that.

On a lighter note. It's canon that Lucius has little hobbies: peacocks and collecting Dark artefacts!

Also, he has a sick interior designer because the secret chamber beneath their living room is a marvellous idea, I need one of those.

A bit of a germophobe.

Cruel, but again: casual cruelty. Yes, he enjoys tormenting Muggles because they are less than human to him; no, he does not enjoy watching little Mudblood children get bitten by Greyback or Muggle women being raped (and no, before you ask, he would never lower himself to something like that, even if Narcissa wasn't in the picture).

Inspired by the movies, of course, but he has great fashion sense.

He was nice looking, definitely not incredibly handsome (unlike my boy Rodolphus who is hot) but he was very charismatic, so much so that Narcissa Black fell desperately for him, much to Andromeda's dismay and Bellatrix's perplexity.

Elaborate courting ritual (peacock-like, get it? ah ah).

The second most extravagant wedding of the century (Bella & Rod take the cake on that, you have no idea).

I am fascinated by his relationship with Voldemort. By the end of the second war, the two pretty much despise each other (and if Cursed Child is to be believed - which I don't - Lucius had a Time Turner tucked away and never once tried to use it to bring Vold back). But what about during the first war? Lucius' loyalties were always to the Cause more than to the man, and yet he is given the Diary. First War Lucius must have been fascinated by Voldemort - we see a hint of this in GoF when he asks Voldemort to tell them how he managed to survive the Killing Curse.

I think Voldemort saw this fascination and somehow, in his usual arrogance, misunderstood it. You see, the way I think of (and write) the Death Eaters is very Succession-y: everyone wants to be Voldemort's favourite, the one to sit to his right, the closest to him. During the First War, Lucius would have sold his mother to be closest to Voldemort. His entire worldview shifts when Draco is born, and as Lucius grows to love him. The same went for everyone else, including Snape. This is why, to me, Voldemort doesn't see their betrayals years later: he is used to thinking that they would do anything, sacrifice anyone, for him. He doesn't see that the love they feel for others is stronger than whatever fucked-up bond is there.

And, if you think about it, the two Death Eaters that are truly, fanatically, loyal above everything else are the two that are in love with/love him. Bellatrix and Barty.

Stopping now because my head is falling on my keyboard from sleepiness. Hope you enjoyed! I probably have more somewhere.

#hp headcanons #lucius malfoy #narcissa malfoy #draco malfoy #bellatrix lestrange #death eaters

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v3nusxsky · 1 year

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Hii! Can I request a platonic lady lesso x reader fic w reader being unfocused or asleep in lady lesso's class so lady lesso gets annoyed with them and makes them stay after class and she's halfway into scolding r bc they're wasting their potential by not focusing etc but notices r is actually exhausted/burnt out and then afterwards it's a bunch of comfort and assurance? Probably include migraines/anxiety, I really needed this one! I've been so stressed lately 😭

Hello dear anon, I hope this finds you well and provides you with a bit of comfort. I’m so sorry you’re stressed darling remember to take a breather and look after yourself okay?

I'm here

*Authors note~ loving writing these requests:)*

Trigger warnings~ anxiety attacks

Prompt ~ see the ask

Your head was pounding. In fact it had been all morning. Your concentration during your morning classes had been non existent. You were certainly having a hellish time of it and not the enjoyable kind. But being a Never, you tried to hide it and appear strong. If you're honest you knew it was getting bad. Of course you did. But Nevers can't show weakness, so you push it away and try to muster up the ability to carry on with your days. Your migraines stem from your anxiety that is bubbling away on the inside. Anxiety is a strange feeling. When you say anxiety people often assume your running around muttering about everything you could be worried about or having a screaming crying meltdown. Well in fact your anxiety attacks were nothing like that. Your anxiety attacks came in the forms of shaking of limbs normally hands and legs, migraines, heart palpitations and dizziness. All symptoms that could be easily overlooked.

You lost count of the sleepless nights now. It must have been days since you actually slept through the night. And the night terrors honestly hell would be more preferable. Or even a night in the Doom room with Lady lesso. Anything over the torture your own mind creates. This morning you were feeling rather delicate, the exhaustion and anxiety getting to you. You somehow managed to get yourself ready for the day and down to breakfast. Opting to keep yourself isolated due to lack of energy you grabbed some fruit and headed to the corner of the food hall. A book in your hand you managed a few bites of the apple before abandoning it in favour of reading your book. Your exhausted brain causing you to re read the same paragraphs over and over just to retain the information there. Today is simply going to be unbearable.

Your first class was Uglification, which you managed to survive rather easily. After all it was just dunking your head in a bowl and having accept how you looked afterwards. The uglier the better. Your bowl was a little off so you didn't achieve the best look but it wasn't bad enough to get a fail. You're second and third class we're a blur. Hardly really being able to stay present. Between feeling yourself give into the exhaustion and your anxiety keeping you awake you felt helpless. After all how on earth could you continue like this? You were feeling on the verge of a burn out. Honestly you could just crawl into bed and not move. Ever. Hide away from the world. From everything.

Unfortunately for you today, you had a double curses and death traps lesson. The one lesson all Never's dread. The one lesson that the dean of evil happened to teach. Now she was known to be exactly what her moniker suggests, and she did not take any nonsense in her lessons, only the best was accepted in her class. And her methods to achieve the best were frowned upon by the Ever teachers. They thought it to be cruel and barbaric, but Lesso explained early on, this is just the way it has to be. Never's can't be broken down easily, that makes the hero's jobs in our stories too easy. You desperately tried to hide any forms of weakness from the women, knowing she'd see it as a reason to toughen you up. And if your honest the Doom room absolutely petrifies you. Never actually experienced it yourself but you heard enough stories to live in fear of the room.

This is why you sat in your first hour with Lesso desperately trying to fight your own body and mind, you needed to be in control here. Yet you honestly felt like dying. It was all too much. The light seeping I'm from the windows seemingly too bright and her voice too loud for your sensitive head. You noticed the tale tale sign of your anxiety flaring once more. Your leg bounced under the desk your hands shook as you attempted to note down what was being taught. Words began to blur together and you knew you were screwed. Knowing that fact made it all seem to spiral further out of your control. The fear of the punishment overwhelming you and adding panic into the mix of whirling emotions and thoughts. At this point you could feel your body and sense slipping away from you.

The smack of a cane hitting the wooden desk caused you to shoot up and snap your attention to your fiery red head professor. She was clearly speaking. Lips moving but no sound reaching your ears. She looked furious with you. Well fuck. You were going to die. She knew. You could see it in her eyes. The disappointment and anger that one of her Nevers would be so god damn weak. Immediately you stood and fled the room. Not caring about your stuff, or the consequences just needing to find air. A safe and calm space. Before you realised it you were running, no destination in mind. Chest heaving as it brought you the gardens. The flowers and running water sounds attempting to ground you. You slowly walked through the gardens attempting to regain control over yourself once more. Reaching the familiar hiding spot you immediately took up residence there. The red roses hiding your tiny form as you rocked yourself to pass through the other side of the attack.

Your chest heaving, heart feeling as if someone had their hand in your chest and were squeezing it, head absolutely banging, you really needed to calm yourself before you passed out. You made the short distance to the fountain to stick your hands in the cold water. Really a strange sight for others to walk in on but you couldn't care less. Cold water is typically a good method of shocking your body back to its normal senses. Which this proved. Your hand in the fountain is what was slowly guiding you through the end of your attack when lesso found you. You had missed your second hour of class which was rather unlike you. After all you're her best student, so naturally she had waited the hour out before setting out in a search for you. She'd tried all your known spots but no luck so the gardens was a last resort which she was relieved to see you here. She approached you carefully not wanting you to flee once more.

"Y/n? Little one? What happened in there?" Her tone was somehow softer but still held it's usual demanding manner. You jumped startled by the extra presence before you crumbled and immediately crawled back to your hide away in between the flowers. Immediately the older women noticed how you had curled yourself up as small as possible and hidden from her, all clear indications that you were not feeling safe. Despite evil being in her title she wasn't heartless, she just wished more people realised that. All her Nevers were her family and she'd do anything to protect you all from serious hurt. And this right here was one kind of hurt she knew she couldn't protect you from. The clear torture of your own mind. And if you were scared of her then her presence would only prolong the attack. You watched as the older women was internally battling with herself before she came to kneel in front of you cane on the floor and hands on her knees. She could now see the rapid rise and fall of your chest which was concerning. "Little one can you try to slow your breathing?" Her tone almost as soft as these petals. Uncharacteristic but not unwelcome.

"Can I ?" She tailed off but her hands showing just what she was asking. You nodded and allowed her to rest her hand above your heart. She could feel the unsteady beats, way too fast to be considered normal and even skipping or adding an extra heat in places. "Little one what's got you in such a way? " she hummed mostly to herself before removing her hand and offering an embrace which you accepted quickly. Lady lesso almost toppled backwards with the force that you flew into her arms with. There in her arms you broke. All the pain and exhaustion finally at it's breaking point. Sobs forcing themselves through your exhausted body as you were held and rocked by the dean. Never in your life would you have imagined this side of the women but now you were experiencing this side of her you couldn't help but admire her. She truly was an amazing role model for all Nevers.

You didn't know how long you sat in her embrace and truthfully you didn't care. This is the most content you've felt in weeks. Your body sagging with exhaustion as you battled to keep your eyes open. Her soothing motions of rocking and the hand gently rubbing at your back calming you in a way you'd expect from a mother. Your pain in your head had worsened significantly since your crying and now it was hard to see. You whimpered in pain gaining the deans attention. "Little one? What is it?" She immediately looked you up and down trying to find the source of your discomfort. "Head.. can't see... sorry" you mumbled almost incoherently. "Oh little one I'm sorry I didn't realise this sooner. I'm sorry" she murmured moving to stand with you in her arms as well as holding her cane. How was that even possible?

Lesso carried your exhausted body back into the school and into your dorm, where she placed you on your bed pulling a blanket over you. She then set about to get a glass of water and some painkillers we set on your bedside table before she sat next to you on the edge of your bed. Immediately her hand found it's way through your locks in a soothing manner. Her slender fingers lightly massaging the scalp hoping to lure you into a slumber. "My darling?" Was all she whispered out into the empty room. You couldn't even reply with words all you managed was a sleepy hum. "You're doing an amazing job. Your grades are perfect. You're my best student. Next time you feel yourself struggling like this... will you come to me? I'll try my best to help you I just don't want you to struggle alone like this little one." She reassured you sighing in a relief when you nodded and promised to come to her next time. Because you both knew this wouldn't be a one time thing. Anxiety happens to be something that likes to read it's head more often than once or twice. With that you gave into the exhaustion just feeling her fingers in your hair as you drifted off. The dean of evil has the biggest heart you just have to look past the title.

In the future you did in fact go and seek out lady lesso when things became overwhelming for you, she was always there with a hug and comforting words. Never once were you punished for this as it's not something you can control. This happened for the rest of your time at the school and even after when the schools merged and you joined the staff. Lesso had become and honorary mother of sorts for you. A fact that neither of you minded.

Word count ~ 2011

*Authors note ~ i actually love this one so much *

#lady lesso #sfgae #fanfic #leonora lesso #dean of evil #lady lesso x reader #leonora lesso x reader #lesso x reader #ask answered #fluff #asks are always appreciated #anon asks #keep the asks coming

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stardustprompts · 1 year

Text

the kingdom of copper ( the daevabad trilogy book 2 ) - s. a. chakraborty change tenses/pronouns as needed !! some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw ; death , violence , religion mention

‘keep your sense of humor. you’re going to need it.’

‘you look like you’re about to be sick.’

‘you don’t look fine. you’re trembling.’

‘are you afraid of me?’

‘quite frankly, you terrify me and I wouldn’t mind staying on your good side.’

‘you’d be amazed by the things a person can do to survive.’

‘if I’ve not said it lately, I think I hate you.’

‘I find the idiotic rumors enjoyable.’

‘the ( ____ ) do not need a reason to be violent. it is their nature.’

‘you have the look of someone freshly scolded.’

‘I wish you would talk to me.’

‘I feel like I have no idea what goes on in your head.’

‘you have more walls up than a maze.’

‘I can always count on you to honestly insult me.’

‘nothing’s going to happen to you, I swear. I won’t let it, and I’m obnoxiously honorable about these things.’

‘affection is a weakness for people like us, a thing to be concealed from those who would harm us.’

‘a threat to a loved one is a more effective method of control than weeks of torture.’

‘your affections are yours. but do not let them be a weakness. in any way.’

‘I don’t trust you. I don’t trust myself with you.’

‘that’s not a weakness i intent to let drag me down.’

‘you should be proud. not many people can outwit me, but you? you had me believing you were my friend until the very end.’

‘is this enough for you, then? you’ve intruded upon my privacy to dredge up the worst night of my life. is there anything else?’

‘liar. oh, do you not like being called a liar?’

‘I want to go home.’

‘you don’t need to be a weapon to be an asset.’

‘I know you don’t trust me. I know we have our differences. but this? this goes beyond all that. I need you to tell me the truth.’

‘I reward loyalty—- I don’t terrorize people into it.’

‘i’ll not forget what you did tonight.’

‘whether or not I need to know more was not your decision to make.’

‘I need at least one person I can trust, one person who will tell me the truth no matter what.’

‘it breaks my heart when I remember the man you used to be.’

‘I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant that I wouldn’t have blamed you for wanting me dead.’

‘wanting you dead and actually killing you are very different things. and I’m no murderer.’

‘i’m no murderer.’

‘glad to know you’re just as brutal when you’re being honest as you are when lying.’

‘I couldn’t take that risk. you’re not the only one with a duty.’

‘surely you can lie better than that.’

‘why are you looking at me like that? it is alarming.’

‘you owe me a debt. I don’t intend to let it go unpaid.’

‘a partnership founded in deceit is no partnership at all.’

‘I would not wish to lie and bring you into danger unwarned.’

‘saving a life and taking one are very different matters.’

‘I don’t think (name) will ever look at me the same way again. I don’t think anyone will.’

‘I wish I could tell you that it becomes easier.’

‘I suppose our reputations are small prices to pay if it means our people will be safe.’

‘grief clouds the mind, makes people say terrible things.’

‘does it get easier?’

‘you will make us monsters.’

‘you will make us monsters. that is what we are if you let this happen… and that’s not a reputation you’ll ever lose.’

‘then we will be monsters.’

‘then we will be monsters. I will pay that price to end this war.’

‘you do know that most people sleep at night, yes?’

‘you know nothing about me.’

‘it’s such a monumentally absurd story—- even for you—- to concoct that I’m assuming there’s a chance it’s the truth.’

‘there are always people to save. and always cunning men and women around who find a way to take advantage of that duty and harness it into power.’

‘are you asking questions now? I thought all you did was obey.’

‘you would make for a better companion if you were clever.’

‘i’m sick and tired of acting like the only way to save our people is to cut down all who might oppose us, as if our enemies won’t return the favor the instant power shifts.’

‘I suppose I’ve forgotten there are situations for which kindness is the most powerful weapon.’

‘i’m so tired of this. all this plotting and scheming just to keep breathing. it feels like I’m treading water … and, god, do I want to rest.’

‘I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.’

‘you’ll always owe me. I have a talent for extending the debts of powerful people indefinitely.’

‘you can’t fight him. he is capable of things you can’t imagine. he’ll destroy you.’

‘go and steal some happiness for yourself. trust me when I say the chance doesn’t always come back.’

‘oh, do you not enjoy being embarrassed? that’s odd, as you don’t seem to mind doing it to me.’

‘what do you know about grief? who have you lost, (name)?’

‘who have you lost? whose died in your arms? who have you begged to come back, to look at you one last time?’

‘I almost believed it, you know? your act.’

‘don’t you fucking die, (name).’

‘are you going to stick a dagger in my back and run off the moment I tell you?’

‘can we try being on the same side for one night?’

‘can we fight about this later?’

‘I should have been here. this is all my fault.’

‘I promise you—- you’re safe now.’

‘I know what it’s like to have ambitions, to be the cleverest in the room— and have those ambitions crushed.’

‘I know what it’s like to have men who are less than you bully and threaten you into a place you know you don’t belong.’

‘the things I could teach you; you’d be a goddess. you’d never have to lower your head again.’

#rp sentence starters #rp prompts #rp memes #literature sentence starters #literature prompts #fantasy sentence starters #fantasy prompts #the daevabad trilogy sentence starters #the daevabad trilogy prompts #the kingdom of copper prompts #the kingdom of copper sentence starters #I've been hit with the new editor :(

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pluckyredhead · 3 days

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It's time for more Fourth World thoughts! Previously I've covered the comics of the 70s, 80s, and 90s. Now let's talk about the 2000s.

Orion (2000): AHHHHHHH. If you read no other Fourth World book (besides Kirby ofc), please read this one. It is so good and it is so epic and Orion makes so many well intentioned bad decisions and suffers so much. I devoured all 25 issues in 2 days and immediately wanted to reread it. Writing and art are both Walt Simonson and he gives this book such tragic grandeur. He also does my favorite thing which is multiple slow-burning subplots, some of which lasted so long that I was afraid they wouldn't be resolved, but no, every loose end is wrapped up in a satisfying (ish) way by the last issue and I love everyone in this bar. And the art! THE ART!!!

So basically, Orion kills Darkseid (again lol) and becomes the new ruler of Apokolips, and decides he is going to drag this planet over to the side of good kicking and screaming, which...doesn't work out so well for him. Ultimately he winds up semi-accidentally in possession of the Anti-Life Equation, which allows him to completely control people, so he uses it to force people to be good, which...baby, no. This series is like 40% Orion whump, 35% Orion being a badass, 5% Lightray and Orion being blatantly in love, 5% Scott and Orion making dramatic gestures of brotherly devotion, and 5% Orion wearing a stupid hat that I unironically wish I could buy and wear.

It looks like his helmet! I NEED IT.

Also, during his Stupid Hat Era, Orion briefly acquires an orphan girl sidekick, and like...look at my icon. This is my GREATEST WEAKNESS. Simonson, why did you come for me like that???

I have only two quibbles with this series:

1. It's the early 2000s so the only female characters of any significance (besides the aforementioned orphan girl sidekick) are femme fatales who are drawn in ludicrously skimpy outfits and sex inch heels. Now to be fair, Darkseid wears a miniskirt, but the degree of cheesecake of these two characters was ridiculous.

2. The last issue reveals that Scott possesses the Anti-Life Equation naturally, and he once accidentally killed dozens of people with it, and he's tormented by both of these things. Which...the actual issue this story is told in is really good, and I think it's a really interesting idea to have Scott possess the Equation, but I don't love the idea of weighing down this optimistic character who values freedom above all with such a traumatic history of, uh, accidental mass murder. He already grew up in a torture orphanage! Hasn't he suffered enough?!

But honestly, the overall series is so good that I'll let it slide. PLEASE READ ORION (2000). THANK YOU.

Seven Soldiers: Mister Miracle (2005): This is part of a set of miniseries Grant Morrison did: there was Seven Soldiers #0, and then 7 4-issue minis, one for each of the Soldiers, and then the whole story concluded in Seven Soldiers #1. I only read Seven Soldiers and the Mister Miracle miniseries because I'm a ridiculous person when it comes to reading comics, but I'm not going to read 24 issues that have nothing to do with the Fourth World.

Anyway, the Mister Miracle mini is actually about Shilo Norman, not Scott, and it's pretty good, even if Shilo should know perfectly well who Darkseid and his entourage are. The surrounding issues were incomprehensible, but maybe they would have made more sense if I had read all the other minis. On the other hand, maybe not...this is Morrison we're talking about, after all. Anyway talk about making comics as inaccessible as possible. Great job, everyone.

Death of the New Gods (2007): I knew right away this comic was going to be dogshit because of a) the title and b) the fact that it's a tie-in to the worst event DC has ever published, Countdown to Final Crisis, but hoo boy, it is DOGSHIT.

Basically, some mysterious being starts murdering New Gods, starting with Lightray and Barda, the latter of whom is murdered in the kitchen - you know, where women belong. Scott then dons a truly idiotic goth version of his costume and the rest of the book is mainly Scott, Orion, and Superman flailing around aimlessly and failing to figure out who the killer is while everyone from New Genesis and Apokolips is slaughtered. It's a truly godawful murder mystery in which implausible suspects are accused at absolute random (the Forever People, the pacifist hippies! Orion, the least sneaky being in existence!) even though Superman deduces the killer (sort of) in #5 and tells the other characters, so there's no reason for them to still be trying to solve it.

Anyway at the risk of ruining this comic for you (impossible, it comes pre-ruined), the killer turns out to be the Infinity Man, but he's actually being piloted by the Source, which is eradicating the New Gods and harvesting their energy in order to create a Fifth World. In #7, a horrified Scott is like "But I've worshiped you all my life! Don't you care about any of us?" and the Source is like, "Eh." The most spiritual and reverent aspect of the Fourth World, and Jim Starlin came along and just dropped a little turd right on top of it (after, of course, blatantly copying Darkseid when he created Thanos).

The art (also by Starlin) is hideous, and the plotting is atrocious, as he desperately tries to stretch six issues of story at best into eight, plus dragging each issue out over 30 pages instead of the normal 22. Everyone is wildly out of character. The only vaguely good thing about the book is that Scott and Orion finally get to spend a significant amount of time together, but given the context, I really don't think it's worth it.

In conclusion: "rocks fall, everyone dies" turns out to not be a good idea for a story! Who knew!

Final Crisis (2008): Well, after 16 years of successfully avoiding this story, I finally read it. You win this one, Morrison.

I have avoided Final Crisis since it came out because it felt so emblematic to me of the worst of late 2000s DC: literally constant crossovers with histrionic stakes, characters being slaughtered left and right, whatever the fuck they did to Mary Marvel in this story. I know it has a good reputation, and if I'm being honest, I do think the first 5 1/2 issues of it are pretty good. On the other hand, if I wasn't very familiar with 2000s DC, I think this would be a very confusing book to read, the final 1 1/2 issues dissolve into incomprehensible, self-indulgent nonsense full of obscure characters and OCs randomly dropped in just to make it all harder for the reader. I'm sorry, I know many people consider Morrison's habit of writing comics that you need a companion volume, twenty Wikipedia tabs, and a Reddit forum to understand to be a feature, not a bug, but it infuriates me. It's like the structure of the Seven Soldiers series(es) up above. Aren't comics impenetrable enough? Must we gatekeep with every page?

Anyway the New Gods stuff: they're all dead, but all the evil ones managed to land on Earth as disembodied souls, and are possessing various humans. The only good one is Orion, who dies at the very beginning when he is shot by Darkseid in the future shooting him with a bullet that travels back in time. I love goofy comics shit but for some reason this one strikes me as real dumb. Also Orion literally died twice in the comic that was about all the New Gods dying, so...hm.

Anyway the evil New Gods take over the planet with the Anti-Life Equation, and again, the pacing and storytelling are actually really good for most of this. But there's also all the worst the late 2000s had to offer, like Mary Marvel in the WORST costume of all time and Supergirl flashing panty shots at the reader while they beat each other up and call each other sluts, or Tawky Tawny being beaten to a pulp before ripping out Kalibak's entrails. Tawky fucking Tawny. SIGH. Also they keep miscoloring Shilo as white. NOT GREAT.

Honestly at this point I'm like begging for the New 52 to happen and put me out of my misery, so...good job, DC? I want to go back to Orion (2000), that was great.

Next up: the 2010s! Which is all the New Gods books, they haven't had a series yet this decade. We're almost done, gang.

#fourth world #meta #orion #scott free #mister miracle #big barda #barda free #lightray

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literary-illuminati · 8 months

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Book Review 49 – Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh

Introduction

I forget who initially recommended me this book, but I owe them an incredible debt. Really the only disappointing thing is that I hadn’t heard of it even sooner, as this really is just perfectly tailored to appeal to me specifically. First science fiction/fantasy novel I can remember reading in a long time that I actively wished was longer. As a testament to how much I liked this book – this review is long enough to need subheadings.

So! Some Desperate Glory is a space opera, following Kyr (Valkyr, technically), a 17-year-old cadet and genetically enhanced ‘warbreed’ golden girl of Gaea Station – that being the quasi-fascist statelet of militant dead-enders who fled to a desolate planetoid in a dead system to continue the war after aliens destroyed the earth/most of humanity. After she gets assigned to Nursery (read: breeding the next generation of soldiers) instead of a combat wing and has a crisis of faith, she talks herself into running away to help her brother on the suicide mission terrorist attack he was deployed on. With the help of one of her brother’s friends and a captured alien, she manages it, discovers that her brother had absolutely no intention of actually following orders once he’d made it out, and take it upon herself to do her own, better, terrorism. From there the plot gets weird, and I’m going to spoil it shamelessly talking about it, but if you value surprises when reading at all just stop this review and go read it.

The Heroine

Kyr is, and I say this lovingly, the most insufferable bitch of a 17-year-old military brat I’ve ever spent time in the head of (at least at first). Even compared to the other indoctrinated child soldiers she’s the cop nobody likes. She then spends the first third to half of the book unlearning this indoctrination, by which I mean very arduously and painfully reaching a point of ‘the fascist cult was a corruption and black mark on the good name of the death cult vengeful crusade, I’ll do it better’ and ‘it’s probably okay to not, like, personally hate aliens who were too young to have been alive when the earth was destroyed. Torturing them for no reason is wrong, like abusing animals was, back when there were animals’. She spends the entire book expecting on a bone-deep level to get herself killed for the cause, and at the end of the book is only like 10% of the way better (one of the last beats in the entire story is, standing with one of her only friends and sure they’re both about to run out of life support, offering to snap their neck for them because ‘asphyxiation’s a nasty way to go’). Whenever she is confronted with the idea that some people aren’t constantly aware of the possibility of physical violence or get to live their lives as something other than a bullet in the gun seeking vengeance for a dead planet she wants to scream and smash things at the unfairness of it all. I adore her.

Honestly my only real complaint is how quickly she starts mellowing out in the second and third acts of the story. There’s extenuating circumstances (whole extra life of memories, time loop bullshit, forcibly confronted with what she said she wanted and what it looks like, etc), but past the one real big hump it did rather feel like her character development suddenly became a bit smooth and easy/. This is one of the things I’m talking about when I say I wish the book was longer – everything after the first big climax and the time travel/universe editing felt kind of rushed and abbreviated.

As far as being a #problematic fave goes, Kyr was also very carefully kept from being, like, directly personally culpable for anything really unforgivable. Which I do understand why from a wanting people to sympathize with the racist homophobic fascist child soldier, but like – you’ve already introduced time travel and retroactivity. C’mon, don’t get cold feet now. Let her and Avi really share the ‘killed trillions in a universe that retroactively never happened’ credit.

Also, and entirely tangentially – you know how in a lot of action shows, the hero has incredibly emotionally tense rivalries and/or camaraderie with other guys, and then also an extremely conventionally feminine girlfriend off to the side somewhere who does like two things in the entire story and mostly seems to exist to prove he’s straight? Kyr has that, except she is textually gay (if incredibly repressed about it and like 90% of the way to asexual in terms of libido). Sorry Lis, but you are literally barely a character. Cleo’s right there, and already has a personality that’s more than two bullet points and is actually involved in the plot in ways beyond ‘love interest’.

Gaea Station

The shitty fascist asteroid habitat that Kyr grew up on is (if barely) the primary setting of the story, and as far as portrayals of incredibly unbalanced and fundamentally broken society just full of cultlike and ultranationalist neuross. I kind of love it as a dystopian setting, though I feel like the author kind of over-egged the pudding on it by the end of the book.

Society is organized into what feels like an intentional parody of a lot of YA dystopia setups, where you live in a tightly integrated mess all through adolescence (each with their own heraldic animal to idenity with!) but then at 17 your exams determine the branch of society you will be assigned to for the rest of your life to do your duty for humanity. Of course, unlike most YA dystopias, the System isn’t the result of some leviathan-state ruling the fates of millions or a tradition that’s going back generations upon generations – it’s a ramshackle mess that can barely consistently feed its warrior elites enough protein slop to take advantage of their genetically engineered hormone levels for muscle growth. It’s all so clearly and intentionally artificial and fake that it loops around to feeling extremely realistic.

Also do love how the elder generation all have names like Joel or Ursa or Elena, while the younger generation are all Valkyr and Magnus and Avicenna and Zenobia. The only really surprising thing is that they don’t specifically call out how children are raised in common and without individual families as following Plato’s Republic – it’s exactly the sort of attempt to create a grand unifying mythology for all of Earth’s true and vengeful children.

I really do wish Tesh had trusted the reader a bit more about it, though. Like, we can tell that almost all the names of the younger generation are either historical figures form the Mediterranean/Greco-Roman world or Norse mythology (with a few exceptions like Avicenna who fit the general aesthetic if not those exact conditions), which puts a bit of a lie to the whole ‘pan-human’ bit. It’s a clever bit of characterization through worldbuilding! You don’t need to call it out twice in dialogue between characters and then again in an in-universe scholarly essay excerpt at the start of a chapter. I can’t complain too badly though, she’s really not even close to being the worst for that I’ve read recently.

One thing I did like especially because I don’t think it was ever called out and brought front and centre is just the sort of, like, perfect irony of both Kyr and her brother Magnus – ‘warbreed’ engineered supersoldiers with physical capabilities beyond any baseline human, blonde aryan ubermensch, the golden children and eugenic future of Gaea Station/true humanity – both being queer and totally unsuited to their assigned gender roles. If it was, like, specifically brought up in a big monologue as disproof of the Gaean ideology or something it’d feel much too on the nose, but as just a set of facts underlying the characterization of the protagonists I liked it quite a lot.

Trio Dynamics

They don’t actually have all that much pagecount spent together, now that I think about it, but as far as I’m concerned the absolute heart of the story is the dynamic between Kyr, Avi (Avicenna, genius-level hacker and cynical rat bastard discontented Gaea Station restaurant) and Yiso (young and rebellious Prince of the Wisdom, taken captive by Gaea when they’re personal ship came too close and then liberated/kidnapped by the other two in their escape attempt). It’s peak trauma-bonding in that the first time it involves a) Avi torturing Yiso to force the alien supercomputer to let him access it and b) Kyr shooting Avi in the head after he uses access to the supercomputer to wipe out 90% of galactic civilization as payback for the whole ‘destroyed Earth with an antimatter missile’ thing (she got a case of morals when confronted with what ‘winning’ would mean. Also her brother shooting himself.)

By all rights they should absolutely hate each other and after two temporal recursions and oceans of retroactively unspilled blood on all their hands they’re the only people who even slightly understand each other. At one point Kyr tells Yiso ‘just so you know, I don’t really care about you as a person,’ and then immideately thinks ‘that was a lie. Why did I say that?’ Avi and Kyr both deprogram themselves from the cult that raised them but only the ‘loyalty to the cult’ bits and not the ‘alien race war vengance death cult’ bits. Yiso meets Kyr in an atemporal training simulation and gets retroactive Stockholm syndrone even though the first time they actually meet she breaks their ribs for repressed teenager reasons. They all drive me absolutely insane and I absolutely adore them. Even if Avi’s redemption felt waaaaay too rushed and unjustified in the final recursion, willing to forgive it here.

Time Loops

The big twist of the story is that, having fucked up and enabled Avi taking vengeance for Earth by doing the same thing to every other alien species, Kyr jumps into the alien supercomputer time manipulation buisness wholesale and goes back to prevent the destruction of Earth. Which then fast forwards to her being a newly minted officer in the Terran Expeditionary Fleet that is the imperial power dominating the known galaxy in increasingly high-collateral damage ways as time goes on. Yiso, in this timeline the beating heart and soul of the main alien resistance group, seeks her out and restores her memories and they go back to try and hijack the alien supercomputer before the government office whose hijacked its crippled remnants (as helmed by the alternate-timeline version of Gaea Station’s great leader, now a fleet admiral of the ‘Providence’ division) manage to literally destroy the universe.

It is mostly down to all the fanfic I’ve read, but I really, really adore timeline divergences that ropagate out and leave all the major characters different but similar people in alien yet appropriate situations. I also adore time travel stories about someone turning the timeline into swiss cheese trying to brute force their way to the one and only golden ending. So I adore this whole conceit. Really my only complaint is that there were only two (one and a half, really) recursions. Not that I’m demanding a full groundhog day here. But, like, it’d have been nice. And Kyr/Avi/Yiso continuously bumping into each other in different configurations and usually ending up at gunpoint would have been ann absolutely amazing bit.

Space Orcs

I can’t be sure Tesh actually had any exposure to the whole online meme of ‘humans as space orcs’, but I do and it’s really impossible to read the book as anything but an examination of the idea. Compared to every alien species ever encountered, humans are tall, heavy, muscular, impulsive, and violent. In a one-on-one confrontation they’ll snap any other species’ neck. The very first pages of the book are an excerpt from an in-universe text writing for an aliens about how actually really humans are very intelligent, and then talking about how threat displays and ‘human culture’. In the original timeline they even fit into the usual social niche of orcs in a lot of fantasy these days – the scattered and diminished remnants of a brutal empire that was defeated and mostly-exterminated in their attempts to conquer the universe.

The book’s handling of this doesn’t really have a point, as far as I can tell – the worldbuilding’s sufficiently divorced from anything real that trying to call it a commentary on racism or genocide or conquering empires is a stretch. (It is after all a fundamental point of the book that the obliteration of earth and extermination of the vast majority of humanity really was the only way the Wisdom could prevent the Terran Federation from conquering the known galaxy. Which is I’m extremely sure not something the author intends to be a historical analogy.) I found it a fun bit of worldbuilding and interesting subversion of normal space opera tropes regarding humanity’s relative abilities, anyway.

Theodicy

Is an incredibly pretentious way to title this section, but also in a sense kind of the core of the book’s plot? In an interesting way, and I think it’s really the book’s greatest weakness that it doesn’t explore or grapple with it enough.

Which is to say – the Wisdom is at the heart of galactic civilization. It’s an alien AI with vague but vast (though limited) reality-warping and precognitive powers. It does not rule the civilizations that accept it, but guides them as a benevolent god towards best, happiest outcomes with whatever support they ask for or need. To determine what ‘best’ means, it creates its Princes, vat-grown heirs to the dead species that created it, with a lifespan of millenia spent going through simulations and interacting with the world to provide the data and decision-making it requires to make that sort of strategic decision.

The Terran Federation’s attempt to reverse-engineer or hijack the Wisdom put it in a situation where the only solution its princes could find was to destroy the better part of humanity and even more of their industry and culture. Through the plot of the first acts of the book, Kyr and her genius-level-hacker friend hijack a node of it and Kyr convinces/forces it to accept her decision-making instead of its prince (who they just killed). This results in an explicitly colonialist human empire ruling over aliens as oppressed subjects, and using the half-wrecked and poorly understood Wisdom to eliminate threats before they occur (shunting the reality backlash off to alien worlds they don’t care about). The next acts of the book mostly resolve around fixing or reverting this, and end with Kyr diving back into a node and having another conversation with it.

A conversation which is basically it giving up. It reverts things back to the human-genocide timeline, then shuts down its infrastructure and goes dark, leaving the entire mostly pacifistic and loosely governed galactic civilization it had protected suddenly on its own. Humanity were such assholes we found a loving god and then convinced it to kill itself.

Which, like, could 100% totally work. As far as high concept short story prompts go its incredible. But as far as actually driving the action goes the Wisdom is the one who makes the most important deciisons in the entire book, and determine the entire shape of the plot. For it to land, it really really needed more than two and a half short conversations on screen, at least to me.

TL:DR

Good book, lesbian doing space atrocities, should have been longer.

#book review #sff #some desperate glory #emily tesh #lesbian space atrocities #space opera

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