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propertyofmilfs · 7 months

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Home away from heaven

Chapter 2: Desire, Deception and Shattered hearts

💫authors note💫

Here it is, chapter 2 of home away from heaven. This chapter does contain heavy smut. Enjoy reading 🫶🏻

ALSO artwork by @lavendercrow136 of Lucifer during their talk with desire

-A

Isleens pov

"Isleen where are you baby?" I recognized that voice… Dream…Even my sleep wasn’t sacred anymore these days.

I sighed and looked at him shakily,

"somewhere you won't find me"

Dream frowned, "baby please just tell me where you are I can help you"

I turned away,

"I don't need your help, your the one I'm trying to get away from" Dream looked at me sorrow and hurt in his eyes,

"Isleen that's not funny...baby please where are you?"

I shook my head, "Why can't you understand I don't love you? I love someone else"

Dream scoffed, "Who Lucifer?? Yea that's right Lucienne told me about your foolish crush on them. But Isleen they are bad, they aren't going to make you happy, they won't love you... they don't even love themselves"

I turned to Dream, and glared daggers through him,

"YOU don't know that, and that's not any of your buisness"

Dream slammed his hand on the wall, "Damn it Is, your supposed to be my wife, not lusting after Lucifer"  I banished him from my dreams and sat up in my cell hugging my chest, my stomach growled audibly.

"you have every right to be annoyed with me or hate me, I shouldn't have come here and demanded anything of you, but Dream contacted me and knows where I am”

 “Child I know already. That’s what im after. Can’t you understand… you’re the bait” Lucifers voice rang through my head, connecting with me, filling my brain. Was this how they urged people on to commit crimes.  I flushed embarrassed

"How much of that did you hear?”

 “Darling all of it… don’t feel bad though. Many people lust after the things that are dark and mysterious”

It was like they were in my cell in real life, the smell of the bath they were taking, the smell of wine. I closed my eyes and saw them before me, sipping the wine I smelled before.

 "ya know its rude to drink wine and not offer some to the key factor of your enemies undoing.”

I saw them smirking.

 “It’s rude to demand such a thing when you are eaves dropping and all together be plain rude. So atlas no wine for brats” 

"you could punish me for my disobedience, but I think part of you is to afraid you'll get flustered looking at me" I smirked 

“Sorry, little mouse’s are not my type I’m afraid you’re wrong. I won’t stop you from picturing such desires later tonight though”

 “no, but my parent is your type though..." I snapped throwing a glass of water i had summoned in frustration

 “They might… what is it to you?” They chuckled  I didn't respond, their words hurt more then I'd care admit even if it was just a jab to make me flustered.   A pout formed on the light bringers face

“did the mouse loose her tongue? Doesn’t matter… you’ll talk soon enough. At least if you are anything like desire”  "for someone who says I'm not their type, you keep talking" I snarked a bit of pain in my voice, I wiped away my tears and swallowed the emotion knowing they didn't care for tears  “Only for my entertainment”  "yes but your only doing it in my thoughts your not touching me your not in front of me and therefore I can tune you out and spoil your fun" I teased with a chuckle

“If you are going to torture me at least do it where I can see you.”  “Quite the flirt aren’t you, yet so different then your parent” I teased “I am not going anywhere. Quite frankly I’m still enjoying my bath and I am not going to waste my precious time on a little mouse like you”

Their voice left my head and I couldn’t help to feel heartbroken…

Lucifers POV

Mazikeen entered my room, she sighed. “My lord wasn’t that a little bit too harsh.”

I sighed “I don’t think it was, she was flirting… Desire would have wanted me to decline her efforts so I did. they haven’t visited in a while. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had forgotten about me all together” I sighed sipping my wine trying not to cry

Makikeen’s eyes softened as she looked at me with pity, she walked up to me and rubbed the tension out my shoulders.

‘’Have you tried calling them’’ she sighed.

“Yes, multiple times but, I lost all hope and gave up”  Mazikeen looked at the call log, and pressed call for me, Desire answered, "Luci baby are you there?? Hello hello?"  Mazikeen tossed me my phone. I shook my head and gave the phone back to mazikeen

“I- I can’t. It’s always me who takes the first step I can’t”

I whispered before leaving stepping out on the balcony 

"Hey Desire it's Mazikeen, Lucifer is currently indisposed at the moment, can I take a message?"

Mazikeen paused,

"oh your here, I- I'll ask them if they want company?"  Mazikeen looked at me,

"There- There here”

 “Send them in” is all i said, I needed them to explain. I was mad. And sad. All things I have not felt in a while Mazikeen nodded and went to the front entrance to the grand palace of hell and let Desire in. Desire was wearing Lucifers favorite color on them and was carrying a bouquet of flowers and a basket of treats and a stuffed dragon, and the next book in the game of thrones series wrapped up.

"I -I know I have not been able to call them back.. what am I walking into ? How mad are they?”

 Mazikeen gave them a grim look

"You'll find out" 

Desire walked into the opulent bedroom and noted the wine, the book with the carefully folded dog eared page and a messy bed. They saw their lover on the balcony, they removed their high heels,

"luci baby? Before you yell at me please let me explain”

 I looked at them with my tears stained cheeks

“well?” 

"I have been looking everywhere for my daughter, she wasn't at the wedding, I have searched every realm but yours because I knew if you had her you'd tell me.... I also knew that if I came here in my search I'd get distracted because you're my weakness and my greatest treasure I'm sorry.... I shouldn't have ignored you, I shouldn't have muted your calls I should have answered.. I didn't want to hurt you baby, you know how much I love you please, can we talk about it? You can punish me if you really want to but please don't leave me"

Desire whispered feeling extremely weak 

“I haven’t spoken to you in MONTHS. Your daughter is in the cells, I caught her snooping on me not too long ago, suit yourself”

I sighed looking back outside 

"You don't know what HE has on me, do you think I wanted to be away from you...your the only one who has ever made me feel like I have a home in this world"

Desire said crying softly 

"I have been forced to work and make sure everything is perfect for that fucking wedding... and to make sure everyone else is happy, and in doing so I've neglected us? The one thing I actually care about...Do you know how fucking hard that's been"

Desire was sobbing

 “Do you know how hard it’s been in here. To let myself love and then feel like I have been thrown from heavens all over again because once again I felt like I was going to be thrown out of someone’s life. He… he embaressed me in front of my kingdom. No one fears me anymore. He took my dignity and took the one thing I loved with him by not letting me see you. In the meantime your daughter has been flirting with me and I’m confused. before you say anything… no, I didn’t do anything. I even declined. Not that it matters to you”

I spat I was angry crying. My heart was shattered.

“If you love me then show me”

i cried harder squeezing the railing for support  Desire wrapped their arms around me and kissed me passionately, taking their time with me. A kiss I desperately needed. My mind was a mess.

"is this what you want?"

Desire kissed me again and I foolishly kissed them back moaning softly but still crying. I pulled them closer and laced my hands in their hair Desire moaned wiping away my tears and kissed my forehead,

"I love you so much baby, please talk to me, tell me what you need me to do and I'll do it" Desire punctuated their words with kisses 

“Love me… make me forget… please”

 Desire nodded guiding me back to the bedroom, they shut the balcony door, and removed my robe as well as their own clothes and began to passionately kiss every part of me

"I love you"

"every"

“part"

"of"

“you"

Desire kissed me in between every word and gently trailed their hands along my frame. They began to suck on my inner thighs gently working the shaft of my cock. I moaned softly pulling their hair softly They whimpered at my actions wrapping their lips around my shaft and sucking gently, rolling their tongue around the tip of my dick, when suddenly desires phone began to ring. They ignored it continuing to pleasure me. When it rang again. They ignored it and this time began to choke and gasp on my cock. They stopped for a moment catching their breath, rubbing their neck.

“I missed you” they whispered stroking my cock and starting to suck again. “Fuck darling” I moaned biting my lip I noticed dreams reigns on desire were taking their toll. They were bleeding and I cupped their face making them look at me and stop.  “You’re bleeding” I said my breath heavy They nodded trying to be seductive, "It's okay just ignore it”

 “You’ll die…” I whispered

“just pick up on the little stalker I’ll be in my bed” I sighed I started cleaning the bed and tucking myself in. Realizing it was just like before.

Desires POV 

I looked at them as if I had been slapped, and answered the phone.

"WHAT WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT DREAM???" I was sobbing and angry

"NO I HAVENT FOUND HER YET, NO I DONT KNOW WHERE SHE IS, GOD DAMN IT WOULD YOU JUST LET IT GO, SHE DOESNT WANT TO HE WITH YOU I THINK SHE PROVED THAT POINT WHEN SHE RAN AWAY STOP RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE"  "Why do you want her so bad?? You're like a child with a billion toys but they jump at the opportunity to get the one thing that they can't have. PLEASE, I can't do this anymore I want to break our deal"

I whispered brokenly 

"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you of the consequences"

Dream sneered at me and concluded the call. I doubled over in pain, my hair turned bright white and their eyes a yellow color. I frowned,

"Am I still pretty?”

 “I’d always think that…am I still attractive?” They asked me, I had never seen them like this before.

 "yes darling, always "

I crawled up Lucifers legs to their chest and kissed them passionately

"d-do you still love me?”

 “I always will, even if you neglect me” They whispered 

I frowned and kissed their face passionately,

"it was not intentional”

 “ make it up to me then” They smirked at me.  I slid their cock inside of me and bounced on their cock wildly riding them,

"fuck baby yes that's it, tell me you love me “

 “Fuck” they grabbed my hips and growled in my ear “I love you” they guided my hips to move faster. I did as their hands commanded and went harder faster pushing myself down on their cock and their cock deeper inside of me,

"fuck Luci yes that's it baby, fucking ruin me make yours”

 “Fucking moan for me” They growled biting my neck. Their voice made me shudder and I moaned screaming their name like a prayer over and over again,

"Luci I'm close!! Baby please come for me”

 They moaned louder

“cum… cum for me”  

That was all I needed to reach my climax. I moaned cumming on their cock,

"fuck baby yes, fill me up”

 They buried their face in my chest cumming deep inside me.  I kissed their face stroking away the sweat damp blonde curls and moved off of them to spoon them

"I love you, no matter what happens please know that”

 Lucifer nodded their head and tried to relax, my legs shaking to match theirs.  I held them close and sang softly to them till they drifted to sleep in my arms. When I awoke the next morning I was painfully aware of people's needs in the mortal realm I kissed Lucifers cheek told them I'd be back and left.

I returned from my day in the mortal realm around noon and immediately kissed lucifers cheek

"I missed you today, did anything happen while I was gone?”

They started to chuckle.

 “I wouldn’t know I was out cold, where did you go last night…” Their voice sounded painfully sad and I knew I had to tell them at this point. They had suffered enough.

 I sat up and held my sides,

"I- I need to tell you something and before you get mad at me, or you get angry or freak out I need you to just listen to me...can you do that please?”

 They furrowed their brows

“what did you do?”

 I stood up away from them, "what if I told you I found a way to spite dream? And I did it. I did it to watch his life divulge into chaos and to make him suffer.... I did it to spite him, to help you so we can destroy him... the mortals are nothing more then our servants, and normally I wouldn't bother with trivial affairs from them because they are nothing more then entertainment for us, they serve us. Not the other way around as my idiotic siblings think. But I've done it, I have found a way to ruin him, I did it for you, for me for all of the others who are sick and tired of being in the King of Dreams shadow. I fucked her, I heard her calling out to me, all she wanted was a child, and I gave her the experience of a life time. Free of charge, I bred her like a bitch in heat, and now she swells with my child, a child that will be a Vortex. I did it to spite him, Mr. Perfect, Mr. Sandman everyone's favorite . I singlehandedly found a way to make his life a living fucking hell. All we need is that girl, the vortex all we need is her. So I cheated on you to spite dream, but if it helps you in the long run baby is it really so bad what I did?" I purred batting my eyelashes at them.

Lucifers POV

 I stared at them in blind disbelief I released my hand from their lap and stood up from the bed wanting to be as far away from them as possible sipping my wine and lighting a cigarette. I didn’t even smoke, but it felt like the time to start.

 They followed the and laced their hands around my waist like a snake,

"Baby please you have to understand it was all for us, for your plan? You know no one compares to you right?"

They kissed my exposed skin making their way to my neck before trailing down my arms and wincing at the offending cigarette smoke.

"You don't smoke, what is this?" 

“What is it to you” I shrugged them off taking a hit.

 "Everything, you are Everything to me. I love you... is this gonna be a thing now youre mad at me every time I have to fuck someone ?"

They asked smacking the cigarette from my hands and over the balcony. I could not believe what I was hearing. Desire telling me they had to fuck someone for work. They who never viewed the mortals as superior. I looked at them and spat my words out with venom.  

“It’s not work, you never saw it as work. You don’t serve people they serve you… that’s what is right? If I was everything to you, you would have cried right here right now, pleading to me. But to you I’m just a number. I haven’t been more then that. You’ve proven that again and again. I didn’t hear from you for months, and now you left me for “work” and decide to fuck another mortal whore. I might have fallen from heavens but at least I had some dignity for the ones I love.”

I threw my glass on the floor and smacked the door shut as I left my bed room and headed to the garden. It wasn’t a pretty garden but it would do, it was my own space. One that I confided in when I was alone and just fell. It’s my own version of Eden. And I wanted to seek piece and quiet.

 They followed me against my will but Desire only did what they did best. Put themselves first over anyone else even after cheating on me.

"Lucifer you know who I am you know what I am you know what I do for the mortals.... your not just a fucking number for me, I do love you damn it. But I can't change who I am or what I am?!?! So if you wanted some prim virgin with no experience or knowledge of the world then congratulations go fuck my daughter. But if you can accept that this is who I am then baby I'm right here. Take it or leave it" they shouted their voice an angry rasp tears formed in their eyes.  I looked back and pointed out the behavior

“this… is what I mean. Desires are more then sex you and I both know that. Never in your life did you fuck someone, you refused. I’ve known you since you were old enough to fucking run your realm on your own. I’ve known that real better then you, your tasks, you don’t fool me… you had a choice, you choose the mortals. Go ahead. Sleep your way to the top for all I care, but you are not crying your heart out to me anymore. You know your way out. I’m done talking to you.”

I turned my back towards them crying and curling myself up in a ball. It hurt. I would be alone again. My task for today was to stay out of isleens way. If I saw her, I’d jump on her immediately out of spite and she doesn’t deserve that.

 "You know what? Your right... I don't deserve you and the mortals don't deserve me maybe she can serve them better I'm done. A world without you in it is just to painful, I'm done" Desire fled

 Mazikeen approached me tentatively from behind, she hugged me,

"I'm sorry my lord, they didn't deserve you”

 I cried harder in her arms, sobbing till it felt like my ribs were breaking She comforted me for as long as I needed, holding me like this, she played with my hair and rubbed my back.

 I cried till the crying turned into screaming, and crying again. My sobs carrying through all of hell.

I guess I have always known that love was not meant to be in my cards. God made sure I knew that.

Isleens POV

I heard their desperate cries. I heard everything. The sex, the yelling, glass breaking and then lucifers screams. Even though I too was heartbroken and wanted to say that this was their karma for treating me like this, I couldn’t help to feel sorry for them.

Maybe this would be the time to seek friendship and bond over the heartbreak we both share.

I picked up a pen and paper and wrote them a letter, shoving it under the door for Mazikeen to see.

Now all I needed to do was wait…

#gwendoline christie #fanfic #smut #lucifer morningstar #desire #the sandman #morpheus #ao3 fanfic #tumblr fyp

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megarywrites · 2 years

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oh my god i hate this man so much alksdjflasj i can’t wait for Thala to kill him

#writing journal #wip: seafoam #the real crime in the chapter 'crime and punishment' is him making her bathe him #aka what i just wrote #god i'm so uncomfortable now lakdsjfladjf all men in seafoam die challenge

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 21 - ao3 -

When he woke, Lan Qiren expected to find everyone talking about what had happened.

He might have even preferred that, despite the cost it would undoubtedly do to his personal reputation; instead, he found that the entire incident had been largely covered up, with even Lan Yueheng uncertain as to what had caused Lan Qiren’s injury other than that it involved some sort of dispute with his brother. That a mangled version of the story had not spread was as sure a sign as anything that He Kexin, whatever her faults or reckless willingness to act on assumptions with little base in reality, had in fact explained what had really happened, and that his brother had decided that he wouldn’t permit her reputation to be tainted by her actions.

Anyone might have expected the honorable Qingheng-jun to have apologized to Lan Qiren at that point for his own reckless assumptions, but his brother had not. On the contrary, he had left orders for Lan Qiren to be punished for breaching the rules of hospitality in striking an honored guest, and for violating several other rules not publicly specified.

Lan Qiren could imagine which ones his brother had in mind.

“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” Lan Qiren said to his teachers, blankly staring down at the punishment order, written in his brother’s hand. He hadn’t even been given the courtesy of being told about it to his face, as anyone might have expected, nor allowed the opportunity to defend or justify himself; he had been summarily sentenced in a note. “I really didn’t.”

His music teacher and his swordsmanship teacher both looked uncomfortable and awkward, each one clearly aware of the breach of protocol taking place – and, given their position as sect elders and honored teachers, very likely the actual facts of what had occurred. They knew that the only thing he was being punished over was for having the misfortune of being selected as the tool for He Kexin’s scheme, and his brother’s order – vastly excessive for a breach of the sort listed as the reason, given the usual standard of punishments – was due only to his own embarrassment and chagrin, and maybe his jealousy that Lan Qiren had unwillingly gotten even a little of the attention he so greatly desired and could not have. And yet, despite that…

“He is your sect leader,” one of them, the latter, said, and if his voice was a little regretful, it was also cold and passionless. “He has issued punishment. Are you defying his order?”

Lan Qiren’s hands were like fists on his knees. “Where is my brother?” he asked. He didn’t think an appeal would be a good idea, even if he were technically entitled to it – it’d be futile, unless his brother abruptly realized how foolish he was being – but he would be fine with it if only the answer wasn’t…

“With Rogue Cultivator He. She has agreed to give him another chance.”

Lan Qiren bit his lip and looked down. He did not like He Kexin, and not only because she had so grossly transgressed against him in an obvious attempt to convince his brother not to like her any longer – an attempt that, given the extent of his brother’s love-madness, probably wouldn’t have worked even if Lan Qiren hadn’t been utterly repulsed by the idea of bedding his brother’s prospective bride – and the idea of her giving his brother another chance at this point, even after having done so much to try to make him go away…

Perhaps she liked men that fought over her, he thought bitterly. Or perhaps it was only that she appreciated how much of his love she had for him to treat his younger brother as nothing on her behalf - though if that was what she was thinking, she was sorely mistaken.

“Something will need to be done about my brother’s behavior,” he said, looking up at them desperately. “You must know that this is not sustainable, honored teachers.”

“That is not your concern,” his swordsmanship teacher said, while his music teacher merely looked sad and helpless, as if what was happening was a force of nature that could not be quelled or diverted, and not merely a single man’s inappropriate behavior. “Will you accept the punishment? Or do you intend to defy the sect leader’s order?”

Lan Qiren shook his head mutely, and went to the discipline hall.

Afterwards, Lan Yueheng scurried in after him, shoving a healing pill into Lan Qiren’s mouth and holding his mouth shut until he swallowed it. “You should go,” he said, glancing around anxiously. “You don’t want to be here any longer than you have to.”

“You assume I don’t have to,” Lan Qiren said, still shaking from the pain. He’d never gotten that many strikes all at once, not in his life; he could barely stand unaided, and leaned on Lan Yueheng gratefully. “I’m supposed to kneel and meditate on my actions for three days –”

“You can do that somewhere else!”

Lan Qiren shook his head.

But for once Lan Yueheng was right and he was wrong. On the first two days of his punishment, he saw his brother pass by the discipline hall in an excellent mood, his ‘second chance’ with He Kexin going better than he had hoped – according to the gossip Lan Qiren overheard, apparently she did like it when handsome men fought for her and believed in her, and moreover apparently one of her friends had intervened on his behalf – but on the third day, just as he was about to complete his penance for crimes he had not committed, his brother returned suddenly in a fury over some setback. In a bout of bad luck and bad timing, he saw Lan Qiren just as he was making his way out of the hall, and in a fit of temper he had extended his order from one set of strikes to two, even though such a retrospective revision of punishment was contrary to both the letter and spirit of the rules.

He was the sect leader, though. According to the rules Lan Yi had set down so many years ago, as sect leader, he was entitled to vary the rules if he felt the need to do so.

This time, when the punishment was done, Lan Qiren hauled himself out of there, using the wall and sheer willpower to force his shaking legs to carry him, and stiffly announced to the teacher supervising punishments that he planned to meditate in penance in the Cold Spring instead of the discipline hall.

It was technically against the stricter interpretations of discipline, since he’d been punished to kneel, not meditate, but the Cold Spring was known to have recuperative and pain-easing properties as well as acting as an aid to cultivation; his teachers, which had overseen his punishment for the second time with tightly pressed lips signifying disapproval that meant nothing if they were unwilling to take any action to stop it, did not dispute him, and with a nod his freedom was assured.

Lan Qiren had a brief moment of disquiet when he got there and realized that he would have to strip off his clothing in order to bathe – he’d only had enough time to wash himself since the incident with He Kexin, and a quick scrub in the cold air did not leave time to worry about who might try to find him while he lacked a protective layer of clothing – but with a deep breath he reminded himself that he, unlike his brother, would not allow his life to be governed by He Kexin’s whims. Anyway, it would be unhealthy to wade in with all his clothing on; the wet cloth would serve only to make him feel colder and get less benefit out of the water’s healing properties. Even if his golden core was strong enough to resist most of the negative effects of catching cold, there was no need to tempt fate.

He put his clothing somewhere he could easily see it, tucking his access token into the clothing in such a way that summoning the token would drag along the robe as well, and then unsteadily entered the water, wincing at the bracing chill as he sank down until he was neck-deep in the water, settling himself in the proper position to meditate. Or, well, to sit blankly and wait for there to be a little less pain: even putting aside the severity, it was also the first time he’d ever been subject to back-to-back punishments in such a reckless fashion. Lack of treatment after a punishment was fairly standard if the sentence also included kneeling – technically, Lan Yueheng shouldn’t have given him a pill to encourage healing, and Lan Qiren shouldn’t have accepted it, although doing so was not a major breach. Moreover, given that the teachers had ignored it rather than adding on any additional punishment, it might even be seen as having been subtly countenanced.

Lan Qiren rather wished he had one now.

Or Lan Yueheng, for that matter. Or even Cangse Sanren, far away in Yunmeng, or Lao Nie, or someone, anyone, who would be friendly and take his side, even –

“Lan Qiren?”

Lan Qiren blinked, surprised to note that the angle of the light had changed considerably; he must have fallen asleep or otherwise drifted off. Or perhaps he was still asleep, because why else would he be hearing Wen Ruohan’s slow drawling tone saying his name in the middle of the Cloud Recesses?

“Ah, little Lan,” the man himself said, gliding out of the mist that surrounded the Cold Spring like a wraith. “There you are.”

Lan Qiren stared at him mutely. “You’re – here.”

It didn’t feel real. How could Wen Ruohan be here?

“I am,” Wen Ruohan said, his lips curved in his usual arrogant expression, the one that said I don’t care what you think of me. “Or am I expected to await your invitation in the future?”

“No,” Lan Qiren said, because he felt even less in control of anything to do with his sect than he had been when he’d been its second young master, even though he was now the presumptive heir. His vision of Wen Ruohan blurred and briefly doubled; he blinked to clear it. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He hadn’t meant to say that. Even if it was true.

Wen Ruohan’s eyes briefly widened, and then he smirked, looking delighted by the admission. “So you missed me after all,” he said, his voice low and intimate; one might almost call it a purr. “Ah, my stubborn little brother…”

Lan Qiren briefly closed his eyes. Had his brother ever referred to him directly like that? He couldn’t remember if he had.

He wished that it had been some single moment in time, some rash act, that had driven his blood brother, born of the same father and mother, so far away from him. He even wished that it was something that he had done so that it could be something he might fix, might repair with apologies and penance, but he knew that it wasn’t.

When he opened his eyes again, he found that Wen Ruohan had come closer, prowling along the edge of the Cold Spring with his red eyes fixed on Lan Qiren. His pace, as always, was slow and steady – it felt inexorable, unstoppable, and Lan Qiren did nothing to stop him, watching blankly as he came forward, crouching down right beside the place where Lan Qiren was sitting beneath the water.

“Little Lan,” Wen Ruohan purred. “My little Lan…”

He reached out, his long-nailed fingers tracing down along Lan Qiren’s cheek, as light as snowflakes, and down to his chin, catching it in a strong grip and turning his face to look up at Wen Ruohan. His thumb brushed against Lan Qiren’s lips.

Lan Qiren swallowed. It had been, he thought, too long since he had felt the touch of someone who wished him well, or indeed anyone at all; he had missed it more than he had realized.

Wen Ruohan noticed, and his smirk widened.

“I heard a rumor that you had been caught in attempted adultery,” he remarked. “I didn’t believe it, of course, and no one else did, either – but I had to come see for myself.”

“I didn’t,” Lan Qiren croaked. His voice felt strangled and inexplicably hoarse, and he found himself absently calculating distances in the back of his mind: Wen Ruohan must have left the Nightless City for the Cloud Recesses the very moment he received the report from his spies on what had happened in order to be here now. “I really – didn’t.”

“I believe you,” Wen Ruohan said, sounding cool and amused. “It didn’t really seem like something that my little Lan would do. My little Lan, who missed me so…”

Lan Qiren tried to turn his head away, not wanting to see the smug satisfaction in Wen Ruohan’s voice and face and manner – Wen Ruohan hadn’t won, he thought stubbornly to himself. Lan Qiren hadn’t given up on his conviction that such torture was wrong or that Wen Ruohan was wrong in engaging in it. It was only that Lan Qiren was tired and in pain, and willing to accept comfort from just about anyone.

Wen Ruohan wouldn’t let him turn away, though, and overpowered his weak movement easily.

“Don’t fret,” he said coaxingly. “I missed you, too.”

That sounded nice.

“I must admit, I tried not to. I thought to myself that if you were so foolish as to turn away from me, the consequences should be on your own head, nothing to do with me. But despite my best efforts, you were never far from my thoughts…”

Wen Ruohan’s hand released Lan Qiren’s chin and drifted down to his throat, lightly pressing his nails against his skin as if examining how the color changed when he did. He moved closer, too close for Lan Qiren to see him clearly given the mist and the angle; his second hand fell upon Lan Qiren’s shoulder, while his first continued to drift down, skating along his collarbone, drifting over to his side –

His touch slid across one of the stray bruises left over from his punishment.

Lan Qiren flinched.

That was a bad idea, of course. The involuntary reflex moved his body too quickly, straining all his other cuts and bruises, and the spike of pain from that made him gasp and instinctively curl up. His vision briefly whited out, and he struggled to control his breathing, keeping it slow and shallow to let the pain pass over him.

After a moment that felt overly long, his vision cleared. When it did, he became aware that Wen Ruohan’s fingers were pressed to his brow in the place between his eyes, transferring warm qi to him in such a torrent that it almost hurt; Lan Qiren lifted up a hand to stop him.

Wen Ruohan was faster than him, though, and he pulled away his hand and caught Lan Qiren’s, pulling it up to examine the bruising that was already appearing on the back of his arm – stray marks, in the main part, since the majority were on his back, between his neck and thighs. “What happened?” he asked, voice sharp. “How did you get these wounds?”

Lan Qiren looked at him in bewilderment: was this not the same man he had seen twist human beings into shapes their bodies could not bear, burn them with fire and slice them into bits? Why would he care so much over a few bruises and cuts, the marks left behind by unyielding wood when it struck flesh, instruments of discipline used a thousand times over in every single sect?

“You know already,” he said, unable to keep the slight tone of plaintive accusation out of his voice. “You said you believed me…”

Wen Ruohan stared at him, expression strangely blank, and then in a single gesture he pulled Lan Qiren up to a standing position, waist-deep in the water and choking on the pain of it, back bent forward like a bow, the worst of the marks now visible to Wen Ruohan’s burning gaze.

“What is this?” he demanded.

It wasn’t really a question that needed answering, and he wasn’t really asking, not anymore, but Lan Qiren responded regardless: “Punishment.”

Wen Ruohan’s hand was tight on his wrist.

“For what?” he snarled, and he sounded furious. Lan Qiren didn’t know if he’d ever heard Wen Ruohan sound this angry - he didn’t know if anyone alive had heard him be this angry, and if they had whether they’d survived the experience. “It is impossible that you actually bedded your brother’s lover. So what possible reason could they have for punishing you?”

“He’s my sect leader,” Lan Qiren said groggily. His head was starting to hurt; he had exited the cold water too quickly. “Does he need a reason?”

The hand on his wrist tightened still further. Lan Qiren would probably have bruises there in the morning as well, equally undeserved - but he minded these far less.

At least Wen Ruohan was angry on his behalf.

“Qingheng-jun is daring indeed,” Wen Ruohan said, his voice as smooth as silk and as dark as a moonless night. “To think he can act with impunity to anyone he wishes, even going so far as to harm one with whom I share an oath –”

“…do you?”

Wen Ruohan stopped. “Share an oath with you?”

“No,” Lan Qiren said. His head lolled a little, and he found that somewhere along the line he had been drawn into Wen Ruohan’s arms, making it easy to rest his head on the other man’s shoulder. Wen Ruohan was overly warm, as always; his sect always preferred cultivation techniques involving yang energy and fire – it wasn’t a surprise, not really, but it was unexpected how pleasant it was. “Need a reason.” He shook his head a little. “You hurt people, too.”

“You are not just any person,” Wen Ruohan said. “You’re my little brother.”

“I’m his little brother, too.”

He felt Wen Ruohan’s hand, blazingly hot against his water-chilled body, come to rest on his hair.

“You were born with poor luck in brothers, little Lan,” he said, his breath warm against Lan Qiren’s ear. It was as if all the heat in the world was contained in his body, and Lan Qiren capable only of leeching off of it. “Not just him, but me as well; we each fail you in turn. I will not apologize for having bound you to me, for I do not regret it – but I will endeavor to make it up to you.”

Surrounded by all that warmth, Lan Qiren drifted off to sleep.

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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inky-duchess · 4 years

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The Villain's Ending: How to Serve Your Villain Their Comeuppance

The Villain is one of the most important characters in your story, the driving force for everything that happens your heroes and your world. The Villain must be dealt with, we can all agree on this one point. The Villain has been tormenting our hero and they must be punished. And not by a falling brick, Dave and Dan. The audience deserves a real ending and your villain must be punished accordingly for their actions.

Punishment fits the crime/ Poetic Justic

The Villain has been cruel, they have done horrible things to our hero. The world decides to get its own back in the most ironic and poetic way possible. These endings are perhaps the most enjoyable to both read and write, they allow both you and the audience to have closure but while making echoes in the story.

Carrie is one of my favourite novels. Carrie has been pushed far past breaking point by the conclusion of her story, she has been bullied, humiliated and betrayed. Every character who has ever hurt Carrie (either physically, emotionally, mentally or spiritually) gets their just desserts. She has been tortured for her strangeness and inability to fit in... and now, her strangeness is what she wields against her villains. She destroys her bullies at the school dance (wiping them put at an event which was meant to be the happiest night of their life), getting rid of Chris Hargensen and Billy Nolan, the puppeteers of her humiliation (using Chris and Billy's status symbol [the car] against them and taking control of it away from them to hurt them with it) and good ol' Mama Margaret White dies at her daughter's hands, slowing her heartbeat with her TK (Margaret is punished by her own daughter, her life taken by the gene she passed to her own daughter and via the symbol of love, a commodity she denied her own child).

Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame is a beautifully shot film and one of Disney's gems. At the film's climax, Frollo is trying to kill Esmeralda and Quasimodo atop the apex of Notre Dame. Frollo has a sword in his hand and seems to be winning, raising his sword to smite Esmeralda as she tries to help Quasimodo, reciting "And He shall smite the wicked and plunge them into the fiery pit!" But he has weakened the stone gargoyle he stands on and his movements cause him to fall and cling to the gargoyle as it cracks, its eyes glowing with sudden divine rage. Frollo falls backwards into the fiery blaze of Paris to his death. Justice is served.

In Game of Thrones/ASOIAF, we see this in spades. Ramsay Snow has hunted down young women in the woods with his hounds, tormented Theon Greyjoy into madness, had his stepmother and half brother fed to his hounds only minutes after the boy is born, killed his father (though this is a service to society), might have killed his own elder half brother, burned Winterfell, raped Jeyne/Sansa and being a pretty bad human being. In the show, Ramsay is fed to his own dogs while Sansa watches. Tywin Lannister has also been a terrible human being: having his son's wife raped while he watches, arranging the Red Wedding, allowing Cersei to set Tyrion up for murder, punishing Alayaya, his actions against the Reynes and Tarbecks, his terrible parenting and his general evilness. He is shot while taking a dump by Tyrion, the child he disparaged most in a rather inglorious fashion. Tywin dies leaving his dreams of dynasty to crumble, his unsavory relationship with Shae to be uncovered and humiliated after his death. The Seven were truly good that day. And not to mention Walder Frey, being served his own dead sons in a pie and killed by the daughter and sister of the woman he had slain in the very room he sits in. You can see the confusion and fear in his face as he tries to work out why this is happening, mirroring Catelyn and Robb's own horror and fear. Arya cuts his throat, echoing her mother's death.

In Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom, we are introduced to the hunter Ken Wheatley. He hunts the dinosaurs, helping the main villain in rounding them up. He has a habit of collecting the teeth of the animals he hunts. He pulls out a Stegosaurus's tooth, relishing in the prize without caring for the creature's fear and pain. Wheatley tries to do the same with the Indoraptor, thinking the beast has been tranquilized but Indy was just playing. The Indoraptor bites his arm off as he tries to pull her tooth, killing him in gory glorious fashion. Indy was a very good and clever girl.

Book Ends

The Villain sometimes is treated to a walk down memory lane in their final moments. The beginning of their story is echoed in their final moments, bringing the circle to a finish and creating a nice clean break. The end feels earned in these circumstances, rounding off the arc nicely.

In Harry Potter, Voldemort fears death. He has done all he has done for his preservation and longevity. Voldemort faces off Harry in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, one on one as it had been when Voldemort stood in Harry's bedroom in Godric's Hollow. As before, the action that begun the tale ends it for Voldemort. He fires the Killing Curse at Harry and it gets turned on him. Voldemort dies simply, with no thunderous drama. He gets both his worst fears wrapped up in some poetic justice. The circle is complete.

Arya Stark faces all kinds of villains in her trek across the riverlands in A Clash of Kings. She and her gang of misfits (Gendry, Hotpie and an injured Lommy) are cornered by Lannister soldiers. The soldiers gather the gang to send them to Harrenhal. Raff the Sweetling, one of the soldiers asks Lommy "Is there something wrong with your leg, boy?" And Lommy replies, that yes he is hurt and he has to be carried. Raff stabs the boy through the throat and jokingly repeats Lommy's request. Arya encounters him again in Braavos in the Mercy Chapter of Winds of Winter. She stabs him in the thigh and feigns worry for his condition, asking him whether she should help him to the physician. Instead, Arya stabs him in the throat. The circle is complete.

Though Braveheart is a rather mixed bag of tricks, it does get this echo right. Muireann has her throat cut for both marrying without the Lord's permission and attacking the English soldier who tried to rape her. Enter William Wallace who takes on the garrison and raises the village to utterly destroy the soldiers. He marches into the Lord's fort (the place he felt safest in as Muireann did in her village and metaphorically in her marriage to Wallace) and drags the fucker to the same post he executed Muireann at, cutting the Lord's throat. The circle is complete.

In Captive Prince, the whole conflict of the series kicks off at Marlas where Damen kills the Veretian Prince in battle, brother to Prince Laurent. Kastor has taken his brother Damen's throne and forced him into slavery. Damen's opening chapter has him being readied for his ordeals in the slave's baths before being sent off to Vere to serve Laurent. Fast forward to our ending and Damen has come home for his throne. He confronts Kastor in the slave baths where Kastor tries to kill him. Laurent steps in and delivers a killing blow, killing Damen's brother as Damen killed his. Two circles are fulfilled.

In The Heroes of Olympus: The Blood of Olympus, Gaia has begun to destroy Camp Half Blood, levelling the forces of the gods and demigods. Gaia began the first first cycle of the PJO Universe by having her husband, Ouranos/Uranus killed. Gaia had Ouranos come down from his domain the sky, away from his source of power. She had him ambushed and killed, her son Kronos, the original antagonist do the deed. We fast forward to the present and Kronos has been taken down by Camp Half Blood and Camp Jupiter. Gaia is mad af and rises to take out the heroes. In the end, Gaia's fate is that of Ouranos, driven from her point of power, the earth and destroyed. The bookends are a couple of millennia apart but the circle is complete.

There is always somebody else.

The Villain and hero are mortal enemies. The Hero has suffered at the Villain's hand for the length of the story, battling them in tests of strength, power and wills. The Hero must over come the Villain... or do they? The Villain must be beaten, that is a fact or else the story has no purpose or no meaning. One must triumph over the other. But there is no written rule that states that it must be the protagonist who must deal the blow and here is where justice can be done for even the most minor character.

The Captive Prince series has this ending in spades. Throughout the story we are pelted with the Regent's evil actions: Hurting Erasmus, killing Laurent's horse, setting his own nephew up to be sexually assaulted and murdered at the hands of the man who killed his brother, constantly being creepy, keeping children as pets, taunting Laurent about abusing him, killing his own brother the King, ordering the death of Pashcal's brother who knew the Regent ordered the King's death, of the killing Nicaise, corrupting Aimeric and his takeover of the Kingdoms of Vere and Akielon. We spend the story waiting for his downfall, waiting for Laurent or Damen to strike the blow. But it isn't them. Instead, the Regent seems to have won, trapping both heroes. Then comes the justice. The truth comes to light. Aimeric's mother testifies against the Regent. Evidence gathered by Nicaise and Pashcal's testimony of his brother's actions both prove to be a nail in the Regent's coffin. In the end, it is the ghosts of three of the Regent's victims who beat him and drive his supporters to abandon him. The victims get the revenge, not just the heroes. It isn't an empty victory for them.

In Outlander, Claire is kidnapped and subjected to torture and abuse at the hands of Lionel and his men. He broke into her home, snatched her, beat Marsali and tortured her. When Claire is rescued by the men of the Ridge, Jamie asks her which men attacked her but she cannot recall so he has them all killed excepting Lionel that is. He is kept because of his value to his brother and Claire's belief that a patient shouldn't be harmed by the doctor. Enter Marsali. She has hurt in the kidnapping and had to watch the strongest woman she has ever known subjected to horrors. She understands Claire will not take revenge because of her Hippocratic oath but she swore no such vow. Even the speech, is striking reminding us that Claire is not just the only one has hurt. "I've been learning the art of healing. Mistress Fraser taught me well. She took an oath to do no harm... I have taken no such oath. You hurt me, you hurt my family, you hurt my ma. I will watch you burn in hell before I let you harm another soul in this house..." Also, she kills him with a syringe which is a nod to his destruction of the one at the battle with the regulators. I for one hope it hurt.

In Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, we see this happen a lot. Neville takes out the sword of Gryffindor and fucking charges at Nagini, a piece of Voldemort, avenging his parents' torture and his own brutal treatment in his final year. Bellatrix has killed Sirius and Dobby, both two characters very dear to Harry and his friends. They do not get to bring her down. It is Molly Weasley who gets to do it, a mother who has lost her brother, her son and almost her world to the ideals of Bellatrix. She fucking snaps and we cheered her on.

In the Lion King, we watch waiting for Scar to get his comeuppance after he pushes his brother off a cliff, chases away his nephew and destroys the pride lands. Though Simba fights a good fight, he gets a case of Hero-itus and decides not to kill his uncle (it is a Disney movie after all) but events transpire and then Scar is trapped with the hyenas, the same hyenas he just tried to throw under the bus only a few seconds before this.

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jettingtothemoon · 4 years

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Save You; chapter 2

➳ pairing: hector x witch|reader ➳ genre: fantasy, angst, fluff ➳ warnings: violence, swearing, smut, mentions of rape, past slavery, spoilers for seasons 1 thorough 3. ➳ word count: 2404 ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ summary: In which y/n and Hector continue to flee from the council of sisters, finding refuge among an unlikely acquaintance with fresh scars and a cold personality. ➳ Part two of, ’Rescue You’. ➳ a/n: daughter of the spirits is gonna be late this week so i decided to upload this early :)

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09,

Guilty Feelings

By the morning, you were being gently shaken awake by small hands. Your eyes peeled open and you reached out for Hector, letting out a sigh of relief to find that he was still beside you. Then, you sat up as the forgemaster yawned and stretched his limbs.

"What's wrong?" you questioned upon turning your attention back to the boy who had silently made his way into your room and up to your bed.

The child seemed quieter than usual and you couldn't read his expression as he softly held onto your arm. When Hector sat up beside you, tilting his head to the side as he too tried to figure out what the child wanted, there was a tiny little grumble in the room.

"You're hungry?" you asked as you began to climb out of the bed.

The boy nodded and his stomach growled again.

"We shouldn't wander around the castle alone. We should just wait for Alucard," hector protested as you slipped into your boots and took the boy's hand in your own.

"We're just going to go downstairs. For all we know, Alucard is already up, and if not we will just have to wait for him. I'd go look for him but I don't know which room is his."

Hector hummed, seeing that there was no real danger in going downstairs. As long as you didn't wander it should be fine.

The three of you then transcended back down the stairs and to the kitchen.

Walking through the castle again was an unusual feeling for both you and Hector. They were rooms you knew so well and yet, everything seemed so different. There was still a darkness looming over the castle but it was somewhat brighter than before. You assumed it was even brighter before whatever had happened here since Alucard moved back in.

Not only was the atmosphere different but the decor had changed somewhat, whether that was because most of it was destroyed during the fight or simply because of Alucard's own personal preference, you were unsure. He had done a good job at cleaning things up, so much so that there were little remnants of the minor battle that took place here the day you fled with Cezar. Then again, you supposed Alucard didn't have much else to do to keep himself occupied now that he was here alone.

He didn't return alone. There were a speaker magician and a Belmont with him the day Dracula was killed. You couldn't help but wonder what had happened to them or where they were now. You only hoped that they were not the corpses that had been left to rot outside.

"Ah, you're awake," Alucard announced.

The silent boy quickly latched onto Hector's hand once again, still clearly somewhat unsure about the half-vampire but no longer entirely afraid of him.

"You're up already?" you enquired, knowing that it was even still rather early for you or Hector and that the two of you would still be asleep if it wasn't for the child.

Alucard sighed as though he was uninterested in the conversation but answered anyway, "I don't sleep much these days. I made some breakfast for you though, I thought you might be hungry."

He had indeed made breakfast for all of you. It seemed as though he had even waited for you before touching his own.

"Thank you, it smells delicious," hector commented, trying to make some kind of polite conversation with your host.

Alucard simply nodded his head and beckoned for you all to come and sit down, and so, you did.

It was silent as you ate, almost awkwardly so, until Alucard spoke again, "Oh, I didn't have time to prepare them last night but there will be clean nightgowns for all of you from now on. They will be much more comfortable than wearing your clothes to bed. You all need to bathe today too, you're still covered in dirt."

Although his words should have sounded at least somewhat kind, the only tone within his voice was flat and tired. It was clear that he was unhappy with the three of you being there but, for whatever reason, he hadn't turned you away when you asked to stay.

He seemed somewhat on guard around the two of you, Hector, in particular, but other than that he seemed as though he didn't care much about you being in his castle. It was almost as if some part of him wanted you there, or at least, wanted some company.

Alucard had always been somewhat lonely when you knew him before but back then he didn't seem to care much for it anyway. He had his mother and his father hadn't spiralled into madness but now he was truly alone. His parents were dead, one by his hand, and the only friends he ever knew seemed to have gone far from here. That is if they were ever his friends in the first place.

Whatever the Belmont and speaker were to him, they were people he would have grown used to seeing and now they were gone, that much you knew. Alucard had had a taste of what it was like not to be alone only to end up back in this castle, isolated from the rest of the world and, although you and Hector were the last people he would want company from, it seemed that some small part of him didn't want to send you away.

After breakfast, Alucard took the child with him to search for some clean clothes. Before doing so, however, he had directed you and Hector to the bathroom so that the two of you could bathe and dress in some clean clothes.

As it turned out, some of Hector's old belongings were left behind after the attack so he had clothes to wear at least. You, however, were stuck with whatever Alucard could find lying around that would fit you. Alucard had also told you and Hector that you could use his old room from now on if you wished but Hector seemed somewhat reluctant to go back there, although you were unsure why.

"Want some help? Or maybe just some company?" you offered as Hector headed towards the bathroom.

He stopped, turning his head towards you with furrowed brows.

"What? It's not like I haven't seen it all before," you admitted with a chuckle.

Hector blushed slightly but still seemed somewhat uncomfortable. "I- It's just that- Well, it isn't the same as before... before that.... before you were locked up and..."

"Hey," you spoke gently, cupping his face in your hands to draw his shakey gaze to you, "It's okay if you don't want me to. I can stay out here and wait for you. Just know that nothing that has happened between then and now has changed anything. I still love you, Hector."

His eyes searched yours as if he was looking for his own answer in them and, once he found that answer, he slipped his hand into yours.

"I- I suppose I could use some help washing my hair."

You smiled sweetly and followed him into the bathroom, making sure that the water in the tub wasn't too hot for him before politely turning your back for him to remove his clothes and climb in.

You had indeed seen him naked before, more than once, but not since everything went wrong back in Styria. Whatever happened to him, whatever Lenore did to him or made him do, even if it was no worse than what it had been before you first arrived, it had knocked him down.

Lenore put him in his place, that you were certain of. She broke him down piece by piece knowing that he was helpless to do anything to stop her. That was her punishment for him and his only crime was loving you.

Once the water stopped swishing and you were certain Hector was quietly seated in the tub, you turned toward him again. With a gentle smile, you reached your hands up, soon running your fingers through his tangled hair. He groaned slightly at the tug but closed his eyes as you carefully combed the silver locks until the knots and tangles were mostly gone.

While you were doing this, Hector had reached for a sponge and begun to scrub the dirt from his body. He leaned into your touch when you placed your hand over his, softly taking the sponge before soaking it in more of the warm water and wiping it over his shoulders.

Every movement was slow as you scrubbed the dirt away, slowly dragging the sponge across his tanned skin. He sat forwards and you continued to rub down his back with one hand, using the other to soothe the tension from his shoulders. Hector let out a long sigh and ran his own wet fingers through his hair. When you were done cleaning his back, he leaned back and allowed you to use an adjacent jug to soak his wavy hair.

The dirt began to wash out as you massaged his head and went back to combing your fingers through his hair to prevent it from knotting. You handled each and every part of him with care, you were gentle with him even when he occasionally tensed under your touch. It was easy to tell what he was thinking and feeling at this moment. You knew that you were the first person to ever treat him like something cherished, like someone worth caring about, worth loving.

When you were finished with his hair, he leaned his head back against the tub and looked up to your smiling face with another of those sighs, "I don't deserve you."

You reached out, running your fingers over his face, tracing the outlines of his features as you softly spoke, "You deserve the world."

"I don't," he hung his head down low, "I- I hurt people. I helped Dracula commit genocide. People died because of me, because of my night creatures. Families, women, children... They were innocent. I took my bad experiences with humans out on them, all of them. I was wrong and I don't know if I can stop the guilt consuming me whole. Not all humans are bad, you're not bad. I was just unlucky and met the wrong ones." As he spoke, he closed his eyes as if he were trying to hold in the tears that he didn't believe he had any right to cry. He truly believed that he was just as bad as those who had harmed him but you knew otherwise.

You leaned over him, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "I hurt people too, Hector. I killed people for Dracula, I helped his soldiers slaughter countless innocent people. Human's do bad things when they're scared, angry and confused. You're human too you know, you did horrible things but you're not a bad person, not at heart. You never wanted them to suffer, you always wished for a quick and painless death even after everything they had done to you."

His eyes opened and, for a moment, it broke your heart. They looked so shattered, so broken. Not only from what happened with Lenore but from the weight of that guilt. You never knew it burdened him that much but you should have for it burdened you too. It was suffocating knowing that you had done such things out of fear. Hector was no different except you feared Dracula whereas he simply feared humans.

"I killed my own parents, y/n. They were my parents and I killed them."

"They beat you, they hurt you. If you hadn't killed them they would have probably ended up killing you," you defended his actions once again but he didn't seem convinced.

He sat up out of the water and leaned away from you. "They beat me because I raised animals from the dead. I'm not normal, I've never been normal. If I was they would still be alive, they would have loved me. Instead, they feared me. They beat me because they were scared of me. Does that make what they did any different from what I've done?"

You reached out a hand, placing it lightly on his shoulder and again he leaned into your touch as if it was the only thing keeping him sane.

"No child should go through that, normal or not. It's okay to feel guilty and sad, Hector, but you have to learn to forgive yourself. What's done is done. It's in the past. You're a different person now, you realised your mistakes and you won't make them again. Neither of us will."

"Thank you. This... helped. A little at least."

With a saddened smile, you carefully pulled him back down and rested your chin atop of his head, stretching your arms out until your hands settled on his chest. He let out another sigh, this time sounding somewhat relieved, and reached up to place his hands over your own.

He lifted the back of your hand to his mouth and kissed it affectionately before closing his eyes with a smile. "I really do love you."

Once Hector finished bathing, he left to change. You asked him to stay but, as much as he wanted nothing more than to stay with you, right now he couldn't. He couldn't because he knew that he wouldn't be able to hold back and he wasn't sure if he was ready to take that step with you yet. He wasn't sure if you were ready to take that step with him either. It had been long since you fled the castle but he was still trying to figure things out.

He was sure about one thing and that was you. He knew that he never wanted to leave your side, he knew that all he wanted was to go on more walks with you; to keep practising his magic with you; to wake up by your side every day until the day he died. All he could think about was how he wanted you to touch him, to reclaim the places she had touched with your own tender kisses. He just didn't want you to be stuck with the body of a broken man, a body that had already been claimed time and time again.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09,

#Castlevania #netflix castlevania #Hector #hector x reader #alucard

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bottomlwjrights · 4 years

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MO DAO ZU SHI REREAD:Thoughts™️....and Stuff

Chapter 10

Wwx describes Wen Ning’s face as delicate and “handsome in a melancholy sort of way,” so hes pretty and looks a little sad

I will never get over wn killing a goddess...my strong boy

I.....forgot how he killed her...wow okay

“The melody had drifted over his mind naturally. It was relaxed and tranquil...” SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP 🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧

I did not pay attention to just how much wwx thinks about lwj’s appearance

“so what, if Lan WangJi had seen him do this before? There were tens of thousands of people who knew how to play the flute, and the number of people who imitated the YiLing Patriarch’s method of using it to control corpses...” yeah...cause thats what he’s worried about...the demonic cultivation...

Stooooop this scene is too much for me

Really don’t appreciate jc calling wn a “thing” and an “it”....

Aye fuck you random Jiang cultivator, youre a snitch

Zidian is undeniably beautiful

All the cultivators standing back and watching jc and lwj’s fight like high school students is amusing

I actually really like “cut-sleeve” as a euphemism for gay, considering the origin story of the phrase is extremely cute and sweet

“He swept away all obstacles—whether a human or god was standing in front of him, he had defeated them. The sound of his flute was as if it was played by an immortal” i have chills just thinking about it

Jc thinking about bringing wwx home and torturing him for information...him having done this to other people before....yikes

Kanfnckwjb “Mark your words.” lwj can [redacted] my [redacted]

“I will take this person back to the Lan Sect” right after he said he’s attracted to people like you...tsk tsk, shameless, Lan Zhan, shameless

Chapter 11

Just go read the description of cloud recesses and you should understand why im utterly obsessed with wangxian in the morning

JingYi is annoyed

“Let him cry. When he becomes tired, drag him inside.” Goddamn....

“WangJi never brings guests home.” UGh

Lan XiChen is a mirror image of lwj, but with darker,gentler eyes

“Lan XiChen was gentle and benevolent” i am in love with him

Yeah, WangJi, treat your guests better

God lwj is so shameless, how did i not pay attention to this the first time i read it, he literally tells them to bring wwx to his fucking home that he has never invited anyone into

Thinking about the jingshi becoming more than just a house in post canon...like there’s evidence of wangxian all over it, its lived in and feels like home to the both of them

Wwx never got the chance in his first life to drink emperor’s smile again after he left gusu when he was a teen

I don’t remember if it happens or not in the novel, but itd be fucking hilarious for wangxian to come home after being married and wwx goes to drink the emperor’s smile and he finds the ones he filled up with water first and gets annoyed at himself

Akfnfkdj lwj brings wwx home, goes to talk to his uncle about something important, and then immediately has to go to the cold spring. I am going to assume that he had to go there to “quench his fire” if yanno what i mean 👀

“The person in the spring was quite tall. His skin was fair and his hair was black, wet and gathered to one side. The lines which outlined his waist and back were smooth, graceful yet holding strength. In simpler terms, he was a beauty.” Wwx sure does find lwj extremely attractive gods

“No matter how beautiful he was, he wouldn’t actually be attracted to men.” Wwx....you are so stupid sometimes

Jc has actually been hit by a discipline whip

“Just what sort of monstrous crime did he [lwj] commit for him to be whipped so many times? If it really was a monstrous crime, why didn’t they kill him?” Im literally crying, for real this time

I have feelings about Lwjs scars, and wangxian’s relationship to them

Chapter 12

“I’m definitely not here to peep at HanGuang-Jun bathing!” Sure, Jan

Almdcnk lsz was “frightened to the point that his voice even changed” that wwx was apparently watching lwj bathe

“Lan WangJi calmly held Wei WuXian by the back of his collar and dragged him toward the jingshi” 💀💀💀

I love wangxian size difference, fight me

“Lan WangJi carried him to the jingshi, walked straight toward the inner room, and threw him down onto the bed with a thump.” Oh god oh boy am i thinking about the fucking possible parallels to this when they come home to jingshi after being married, if you know what i mean

“Wei WuXian couldn’t help to glance a few more times” akfnfj wwx like 👀👀👀👀

“Just what unforgivable mistake did he make for him to be punished like this?” sTOP

“Anyhow, Lan WangJi couldn’t have recognized him just from the awful flute melodies that he played.” Lmao the irony

The way that things are worded are just so beautiful sometimes, it really gives me feelings

Wwx really thinks so lowly of himself despite being such a righteous person, it makes me feel bad

Im gonna cry, wwx genuinely did not think that lwj even liked him, much less loved him

Lwj is putting up with literally anything wwx does...i think lwj feels like he took for granted how wwx was in the past so he’s not gonna push wwx away now that he’s back even though he’s doing everything he can to annoy lwj

“He remembered that Lan WangJi hated physical contact with other people. In the past, just with one touch and the offender would have been hurled out.” See my post about wangxian and their love languages....

All the art of post canon wwx sleeping on lwjs chest is like a million times sweeter now that i remember exactly why people choose that position

“Are you sure that this is what you want?” Im....Yes

In summation, this chapter destroyed me

#mine #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #Phoenix rereads MDZS #lwj #wwx #jc #lxc #ljy #wn #lsz

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fae-fucker · 4 years

Text

Zenith: Chapter 68-71

Chapter 68

Andi remembers how Kalee gave her a tour of her home and bragged about how she’d be ruling the place someday. Andi asks why her and not her brother.

Oh, Androma. Kalee had laughed then, tossing her head back in that glorious, carefree way that made everyone around her want to come closer. You and I both know that a woman can rule better than any man ever could. And I’ll look twice as good doing it, too.

Shinsay, voices muffled as their heads are stuck up each other’s asses: This is definitely, 100%, one whole, bona fide, authentic, organic, home-grown feminism that we just put in our book.

Also ... take a look at that weak-ass description that’s supposed to show us how good and cool Kalee is. When she laughs (in a way that tbh have you ever laughed? be real with me now), people want to ... come closer?

Wow! That’s like saying ... when I scratch my face, people want to call their mom. When I brush my hair, people may spontaneously feel the need to take a slightly deeper breath.

Talk about low standards. Hey fellas, you ever see someone laugh and just kinda sorta want to approach them but not really? Yeah, that’s the stuff.

Andi thinks about how Kalee would’ve been a better ruler than her dad, who doesn’t even bother coming down to meet his tortured son because that’s how incompetent and evil and heartless he is. I mean, Andi doesn’t know that Valen is the result of rape, but still. Idk if I’m on board with how the book demonizes the hell out of the General but tried to make whatsherface sympathetic. And by “I don’t know if I am” I mean “I’m definitely not what the fuck is wrong with these people.”

Dex tries to make some conversation and Andi says that nobody befriended Kalee, that only super duper special people were CHOSEN by her to become her friends.

I’m ... not sure how this is supposed to be better. In fact, I’d say it’s worse?

“Kalee chose the people she wished to let into her life. I was honored that she allowed me to be assigned to her.”

“Honored?” Dex asked, raising a bruised brow. “Or damned?”

“I’ll let you know after we talk to the general,” Andi said.

I’m gonna fiking piss. “I’ll tell you whether this important life event was honor or damnation, but like, later, after we have this appointment, ok?” Why is this so funny. Have I fully lost my marbles?

Andi foreshadows some escape tunnels that are hidden all around the estate so Dex has a logical way to save them at the end of the book. I’m sure there is a more elegant way of setting that up, but I can’t be bothered to find one, so let’s call it acceptable and move on.

They arrive at their destination and Andi notices that Alfie seems bummed out. She muses that he’s “capable of far more complex thinking than she’d originally guessed,” which, DOY, but ok, and then thinks about how he’s saved her crew and remembered Gilly’s Marketable Space Pet, which implies he has some “understanding of feelings and attachments.”

That hamster wheel do be spinnin’.

The “head Spectre” comes out to meet them and ...

It took everything in her to speak as the truth struck her.

“Dad?”

DUN DUN DUUUN, it’s Andi’s dad! Also, “the truth struck her?” What truth? That it’s your dad? Was that in doubt? Did you really need a moment to connect the dots, to realize this is your dad? Was there a moment where you saw this man, who is your dad, and thought that this wasn’t your dad, only for the truth to strike and OH SHIT THAT’S MY DAD!! WOW HOLD YOUR HORSES EVERYONE I NEED TIME TO PROCESS THAT THIS IS INDEED MY DAD.

Tbh if you strapped knives to a roomba it’d have more charisma and presence as the protagonist than Andi. And let’s be real, more intelligence.

Yet another chapter ends on a pointless cliffhanger only for the scene to continue exactly where it left off!

You’re just full of surprises, Shinsay.

Chapter 69 (nice)

Andi recaps everything that she’s gone through after the Kalee crash up to the fight with the big alien dude who got deus ex machina-d by Alfie and how she nearly kissed Dex, which gets written as extra special, just so she can make this point:

But this...her father, as General Cortas’s head Spectre?

This might actually kill her.

And aside from how generically melodramatic it is, I can’t help but recall this, from chapter 7:

The man in front of her was a victim of her foolishness. Beside her was the man who’d rejected her love.

The two of them, together? It was nearly enough to shatter Andi.

Andi has the same reaction as I do when in a room with multiple men. Except in her case I think it’s supposed to be deep and personal.

Anyway, self-plagiarism aside, Andi thinks about how her dad was always there for her but then one day wasn’t when he didn’t support her on her trial and how conflicted she feels about him, both wanting to demand justice but also wanting comfort. This is actually quite touching and feels very grounded and realistic.

General Cortas rubs it in that Andi’s dad, “Comander Racella”, has been very loyal and hardworking since he was promoted after Andi’s trial. Andi hopes that her father actually hates the general and was forced to work for him as some sort of punishment for what happened with their daughters.

The general says the situation on Adhira has been taken care of, and when Andi asks whether Xen Ptera attacked because of Valen and her crew’s presence on Adhira, the general says that’s classified. For reasons? Idk. Seems pretty obvious to me, or maybe he just doesn’t know?

Dex tries to yap but Cortas flexes his big dick and reminds Dex that he’s a Guardian now, and Dex is too much of a baby to risk his regained status so he shuts up. This is all spelled out for us by Andi’s inner monologue, because we’re idiots.

The general claims the Xen Pteran forces have been wiped out, saying how it’s probably all they had since there’s few able-bodied and willing people to recruit for war after their planet got fucked, and when Andi presses him for why the attack happened now and on Adhira, he says:

“War never really ends, Androma. The desire for revenge is often too strong to forget.”

“War never ends ... But me and my crew totes ended that war just now. They don’t have any more soldiers so this war is over.” Makes sense, sir.

Cortas says that queen Alara is safe and will be at the Peace Summit, which Andi immediately tells him to cancel because it would be the perfect opportunity for another attack. Cortas replies by saying that Arcardius is impenetrable and that the day the Olen System successfully invades will be the day “stars fall from the sky” which is a very poetic and not at all natural way to say something like this, so it’s there for ... idk dramatic irony? He also reminds her that the Summit is important because it celebrates the peace after the war and the unity between the systems and I’m here like ... for a guy who says war never ends, you sure seem happy to celebrate a war ending and don’t believe one is going on right now. But I guess these characters just exist to spout meaningless yet deep-sounding nonsense at each other.

Dex reminds the general that they’ve done their end of the deal, at which point the general conveniently decides to prolong it out of nowhere and essentially forces Andi and Dex to be Valen’s bodyguards at the Peace Summit by holding Andi’s crew and ship and Dex’s money and status hostage. Thanks for ensuring the main characters are there for the climax, sir! Appreciated!

Dex and Andi leave in a huff.

Chapter 70

We’re in Lira’s POV as she reminisces about her childhood with Lon while he’s recovering from his near-death-experience.

So she sat by [Lon’s] side for endless hours, until the warm clutches of sleep stole her away.

She dreams about flying on an “Adhiran darowak” but then DUN DUN DUUUN Adhira below turns into Xen Ptera and it’s horrible!

“No,” Lira gasped. Her heart began to crack. Fissures spread through it, reaching cold fingers through every valve until Lira felt darkness stealing her away.

So the editor just left that in, huh? Just let Shinsay use the exact same wording in less than 200 words? Must’ve been stolen away by the editing fairy for editing crimes while reading this.

Lira is woken up by Alara, who got here so fucking fast she must be part-Sonic on her father’s side. You’d think a planetary leader would have more to do after a sudden and deadly attack on her home planet, but I guess Adhirans are so chill they’ll just let their leader fuck off to take care of her angsty teenage niece instead.

Lira says that she’ll do anything to make up for bringing Valen to Adhira, to which Alara says that the only thing Lira will do is “follow her heart,” which is sweet of her to say but also really convenient and makes this whole decision easier for her.

I mean, it’s nice that Alara is so supportive, but 1) narratively, it removes the conflict that was introduced only a few chapters ago 2) it makes Alara seem like she’s only there to be the supportive cool aunt and the Good Queen, without any expectations or wants of her own. Like, wasn’t the pressure from Alara something that gave Lira actual conflict? Idk. Seems too easy, is what I’m saying.

Lira didn’t let go of her aunt until the tears dried up. Until they sat down on either side of Lon’s bedside, held his hands and spoke of happier times. The beauty of a family that could come together, broken, and still find a way to become something whole.

You’re one step away from “Ohana means family” over here, Shinsay. Stop spelling shit out. WE. GET. IT. Also, whose narration is this? We’ve mostly stuck to third person limited, so ... is Lira thinking this? Is she thinking this shit while it’s happening? About her own family and situation? What the fuck?

Shinsay couldn’t keep their suspiciously sticky fingers out of their own writing and let it breathe so it comes out looking like God’s mistake.

Anyway, Lon wakes up and Alara tells him what went down on Adhira.

Chapter 71

We’re back with Andi, who just got out of a bath and is bitterly admiring her “private quarters” when she’s interrupted by DUN DUN her dad! He’s been waiting for her!

It’s all very tense. Before they can really start talking, though, we get a flashback. No, really. This whole tense reunion between father and daughter is interrupted by a lengthy flashback brought on by Andi watching her dad and Remembering.

Because Shinsay.

It’s a flashback to Andi in a cell, the day before she was supposed to be executed. Her dad tells her that her mother is "not well” and we find out his name is Oren. As they’re saying their tearful goodbyes, Oren slips Andi a key and tells her “Bay Seven. Tomorrow at dawn.”

The flashback ends with Andi’s cell standing empty the next morning.

Very cool and all that.

Back in the now, Andi rightfully chews her dad out for being a cowardly little bitch and throwing his teenage daughter under the bus for the sake of status. Something he freely admits to doing. He says he and her mother had to struggle to rebuild their reputation after she ruined it, and that he believes his daughter died with Kalee and that whoever he saved in the cell was already the Bloody Baroness even if she didn’t know it yet. Then he fucks off.

It’s all extremely silly. It would’ve been heartbreaking in any better book, but instead, it just feels like it’s tacked on for the sake of adding even more angst to Androma’s character. In fact, she’s not even upset at this. Instead she just carves some more tallies into her swords, dances some more with the dead, and then sneaks out.

No really, it’s written like a list.

She waited for the tears to come. But they never did.

Instead she sat alone, adding more tallies to her swords. Dancing with the dead inside her head.

Why is this so funny! I think it’s because both the tally-carving and the ghost-dancing is supposed to be these deep and haunted things she does that’s given a fair amount of weight and focus, but then it’s just written out like this like it’s just some generic routine shit she does like brushing her teeth or wiping her ass.

Yup, there she goes, doing her generic angsty shit one after the other. Emotional whiplash glossed over for the sake of moving the plot along. She’s in such a bad mental state that we simply MUST ignore it and move on.

Also, I want to highlight how convenient it is for Shinsay to already have Andi suspect and previously coming to terms with how her parents don’t love her before this confrontation. Like, we see her father save her tearfully, yet Andi has almost no hope that he still loves her. Or, she does, but when it’s squashed, she just ... accepts it? Because hey, she already processed that trauma years before! Makes it easy!

Wouldn’t it make it more impactful if all these years, she’s hoped that she has a home to come back to? That her father’s final act of saving her meant they love her still and want her to come back? And now she finds out that they never even mourned her loss? Wouldn’t that be heart-wrenching? And also add to the idea that Andi wants to return to Arcardia, both because it’s her home planet but also because that’s where her parents are? Instead we’re led to believe Andi wants to return, but when she does, she hates it here, she knows nobody wants her here, and she wants to leave immediately.

I seriously question the inclusion of this subplot and these characters. It adds nothing, changes nothing, and is just there to make Andi more angsty, which she already is, so ... why is this here lmao?

Shinsay really went “let’s squander all our potentially interesting ideas and concepts for the sake of more cheap angst and making our protag a cool emotionless badass who don’t care for no thing.”

#eff reads: zenith

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shellyseashell · 4 years

Text

MEET ME AT MIDNIGHT

A rough draft of the first chapter of my Cinder Wasn’t Killed as a Child AU because I was hoping this would give me ideas but my brain is still empty. Help?

SELENE WASN’T FOND of the trials — if you could call them that. The punishment was always death, even when the issue could be resolved through jail time or community service. It was something — among a lot of other things — that she intended to change when she became queen in a few short months.

The throne room wasn’t her favorite room either, with one wall practically gone and opening onto a balcony with no railing, so victims could be dropped into Artemisia Lake below. Selene sometimes wondered how many bodies she would find if she drained the lake. The aristocracy sat in rows behind her, Levana, and Winter. They looked like a ridiculous rainbow with their crazy fashions, from feathered hats to huge gowns. Selene wondered how many were glamour.

The only ones she knew for sure were not using their glamour, aside from the guards and the man on trial, were her and Winter. Princess Winter, Selene’s adopted cousin, had stopped using her gift after she unknowingly aided a servant's suffering — at least, that’s how she saw it. Levana, Selene’s aunt and Winter’s step mother, had carved three lines into her face so she’d have something to hide, but that had not stopped her. She wore the scars proudly, even as she suffered from Lunar Sickness.

Selene has learned over the years that her gift did more harm than good, and so did her family. Knowing the importance of being queen and how much change she could make, she used her gift often enough to not have Lunar Sickness. It certainly wasn’t enough to earn Levana’s approval, but Selene didn’t much care.

“Sneaking into a classified building . . . finding the Lunar shells,” Head Thaumaturge Sybil Mira listed off the crimes of the trembling man cowering in the middle of the room. “Your Highnesses, what do you think twice proper punishment shall be?”

Sybil was, of course, addressing Levana and Selene only. Winter was allowed to these meetings for the pure aesthetic and image of having a royal family, but she was not allowed to be included in anything.

Selene glanced at Levana, already knowing what she was going to say. She had that look she always did. Her glamoured auburn hair and pale skin seemed her sparkle, her eyes gleamed, and her lips were curled into a cruel smile.

“I suggest,” she said slowly, as anything she said would be a surprise, “that we kill him by his own hand.”

The man whimpered.

While the choice was ultimately up to Levana, Selene would have a heavy contribution, so she said, “We don’t need to kill him. I would just fine him, but if you would prefer a stronger punishment . . . send him to jail.”

“He would be living with the knowledge of classified secrets.”

“But he can’t escape jail, so the secret wouldn’t get out. We don’t need to kill everyone for something so small.”

Levana held her gaze, and Selene could practically feel the disapproval roll off her in waves. Levana had intended to raise her to be the perfect queen, the queen she thought Luna needed. It was not going to happen. Selene was not going to be a cruel tyrant.

Levana turned back to Sybil. “Kill him.”

Selene looked away as the man was forced to kill himself, only looking up the body had been tossed into the lake. Two servants were already scrubbing away at the blood.

From the other side of Selene, Winter whimpered and ducked her head behind her dark hair.

“Is something wrong, Your Highness?” asked Sybil.

“The walls are bleeding,” Winter whispered. “We are drowning in blood.”

The court burst into laughter, and Selene jumped up in a rage. “Don’t laugh at her! Lunar Sickness is serious, and being laughed at doesn’t help! Just because she doesn’t use her gift doesn’t mean she’s less than you! She is still your princess, she still deserves respect. And you know what? She braver than all of you for refusing to manipulate others, because she sees the problems of this court, and she refuses ro be a part of them. So all of you, shut up!”

“Selene! Do not speak to people like that,” Levana scolded.

“I’ll do whatever the hell I want, I’m going to be queen, so I have more authority than you.” Selene grabbed Winter’s arm and dragged her into the hall.

Jacin and Iko, Winter and Selene’s respective guards, followed after them. Selene guided Winter, who was taking abnormally large steps and dragging her feet, down the hall, away from the throne room. Once out of hearing range of the doors, Selene spun on her cousin and held her shoulders.

“Winter. Hey look at me. It’s in your head. You understand that? None of that is real. You’re not drowning, I’m not drowning, and neither are Jacin or Iko. Understand? Just breath.”

Winter inhaled shakily and wrapped Selene in a hug. Selene hugged back, rubbing her hand up and down Winter’s back. When it came to her hallucinations, the best thing to do was comfort her, let her know it wasn’t real. Winter knew they weren’t real, of course, but she said they were so convincing that she forgot sometimes.

“Princess Selene!” a voice called out. Selene turned. Outside the door stood Sybil Mira. Her dark hair shone in the hall light, and her heart brown skin contrasted with her embroidered white uniform, showing that she was the head Thaumaturge.

Selene released her hold on Winter, who seemed to have calmed down. “Yes?”

“Princess Regent Levana would like to speak with you in the solarium.”

Selene was pretty sure she knew what this meeting was about. Her outburst in the throne room was not how a queen should act, despite the fact that Levana did the same — for other reasons, of course. Selene squared her shoulders. “I’ll be right there.”

Sybil nodded, bowed, and turned, walking away.

Selene turned to Jacin, a young guard and childhood friend of her and Winter. His blond hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and he stood taller than both her and Winter. “Take her to her rooms. Make sure she’s okay.” She hated talking to her friends like they were less than her, but when they were on duty, it was the way it had to go.

Jacin nodded and saluted her, holding one fist up to his chest, over his heart.

Selene headed in the same direction of the solarium, a large, round room with windows for walls. It overlooked the lake, and it acted as a second throne room, only for smaller meetings — or private talks.

Iko, a girl with light brown skin and braided blue hair, followed behind her.

The ride up the elevator was silent, and Selene knew Iko was itching to ask her questions. Before Selene could encourage her to speak, the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

Selene stepped into the solarium. As usual, light shined through the windows, bathing the room in different shadows from the various guards and Thaumaturges lining the walls. Levana sat on the small throne raised on a dias on the wall opposite the elevator.

Levana nodded, acknowledging Selene, then waved her hand in the air. “Everyone else, out. Yes, the guards too.”

It was almost comical, watching the guards and Thaumaturges pile into the elevator. Selene almost laughed, but nerves were quickly overpowering. It was never good when Levana requested your presence alone — completely alone.

Selene brushed nonexistent dirt off her gray dress and approached Levana, stopping halfway through the room. “You requested my presence?”

Levana stood and paced to one of the many windows. “Yes. We need to speak about your behavior in the throne room.”

“What about it?” Selene asked. “I was standing up for Winter, as I should.”

Levana turned. “No, you should let her suffer. It was her choice to not use her gift.”

“Just because Winter sees the corruption of the court doesn’t mean she should be laughed at!”

“The court is not corrupt!” Levana snapped. “I am doing what is best for our people.”

“Right. Because locking innocent people in cages to use their blood for a biological war Earth has no idea we’re waging isn’t corrupt.”

“They killed my parents — your grandparents.”

Selene snorted. “One person. You can’t judge a majority because of a minority.”

Levana sniffed. “Clearly, I haven’t taught you enough.”

“Oh, no, you’ve taught me everything. I’ve learned enough to know what needs to be fixed — to have a whole list. Do you want to hear it? I’ll be queen in three months — might as well hear how much of your hard work will be scrapped.”

Levana snarled and stepped off the dias. Selene didn’t falter, even as Levana got so close she had to crane her neck to see her. She would not give her the satisfaction of breaking. “Everything,” Levana snarled, “I have done has been for the good of my people.”

“You mean our people — and soon, my people. Because believe me — once I’m queen, you will have no power at all.”

Levana smiled as if Selene had just told a funny joke and returned to the dias. “You’ll see soon enough, that you might not have all the power you want. Now, for the real reason I called you here.”

Selene growled. Of course, Levana had riled her up only to tell her that wasn’t what she wanted.

“We’re going to Earth.”

Selene blinked. She knew Levana had been reaching for alliances with the EU — none of which had been successful so far — but they had never been to Earth. They’d always sent Thaumaturges or held meetings online.

“Why?”

“Prince Kaito of the Eastern Commonwealth,” Levana said as if that answered all her questions. “He has just turned eighteen, and is the perfect age for a marriage alliance.”

Selene groaned. She had nothing against Eartherns, but marrying one — royalty or no — would be useless. Kaito would be crowned as king consort and would have virtually no power. She’d rather marry Thaumaturge Park just for the sake of someone having power.

“We’re going to the Eastern Commonwealth to negotiate a marriage alliance between me and Prince Kai?” Selene asked, not bothering to bring up the fact that he’d be a useless king. She could always annul the marriage if needed.

“That is exactly what we’re doing.”

But from her smile, Selene got the feeling Levana had other plans.

#I don’t know what this was #it’s short I’m sorry #tlc #naia writes #kaider #princess selene #princess winter #Iko #jacin clay #queen levana #I need ideas #help me

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canyouhearthelight · 5 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 52

Happy Tuesday, everyone! We have a pretty fun chapter today, so I hope you all enjoy it.

Also, we have another cameo from a character who was submitted to the character contest. @dierotenixe, I hope you like it!

Speaking of, I am currently at 408 followers, which is mindblowing. I love you all and I appreciate every note I get on these chapters, especially the comments and reblogs. You each keep me going every single day with this story.

Alistair showed up, not bright-eyed but at least early the next morning to discuss the results of the festival. I was barely out of bed, stifling a yawn as I greeted him at the door and shooed him inside. Not having been allowed entry on the one occasion he had previously ventured to my quarters, he glanced around as though cataloguing the contents. A snore erupting from the bedroom sent his attention whipping that direction with wide eyes.

“Coffee?” I offered calmly, refusing to be embarrassed or laugh at his incredulity.

“You allowed me inside your quarters while a gentleman caller is still here?” he hissed in reply. I took that as a yes and staggered toward the kitchen. “That is incredibly uncouth, Sophia. I expected better of you, at least.”

“Not a caller,” I yawned again, handing him a steaming mug. “They live here, and they don’t have to be on duty for another two hours. Figured I’d let them sleep in. It’s been a very eventful few days, they deserve it.”

He scowled at me in disdain. “You could have simply asked me to come back at another time.”

I waved his objections off, gesturing toward the armchair. “It’s fine, I swear. I would have still been in my pajamas, and GK and Lyric would have been here, most likely. They usually swing by for a few hours if I’m going to be home alone all day.”

A particularly loud snore prompted a sleep-husked objection and a grunt before the snores got much quieter. I ignored the eyebrows that threatened to leave Alistair’s face in favor of the ceiling and flicked open my data pad instead. “How did the numbers from yesterday look?”

“What? Seriously? You really expect me to just ignore – “

“Alistair,” I interrupted sternly. “I told you I would be in my quarters, working, for the next several days. I don’t know what you expected, but you probably won’t find it. I’m staying home so I can recover from handling the festival, which means I’m not getting primped for work, my partners will likely be here, and yes, one snores.”

“Partners? Plural?” he nearly shouted, redder than embarrassment could account for.

“Oh, bloody hell, you posh wanker,” Conor’s voice bellowed from the bedroom. “Some of us are sleeping! Either pipe down, or feck off! Jesus…”

Instead of the reaction I expected, my assistant was immediately mollified. “Ah, well then. Messers. MacMaoilir and Okima, I’m guessing?”

I quirked an eyebrow curiously. “Does it really matter?”

“I believe it quite matters.” He actually sounded offended. “Those two are clearly smitten with you, and good men, besides. I was worried you had some other dunderheads here.”

“You do realize it could have been a woman?”

“If a woman snored like that, I would have much graver concerns about you and your taste in partners, I assure you. Such as a female what? A warthog, perhaps? While we may no longer be on Earth, I do believe that is still illegal. Or at the very least should be.”

“Well, then. Now that I have Uncle Alistair’s approval…”

“Bite your tongue.”

“Can we please work, now?” I begged wearily.

Getting down to business, Alistair provided a summary of the data he had spent the previous day reviewing. Mostly, it confirmed the early reports: Overall, the festival had been a rousing success with minimal complaints reported. The low-stimulation session was viewed highly favorably, with a note to include it in future events, accompanied by requests from those who had been able to attend a ship-wide social event for the first time.

Tyche’s suspicion about natto was partially confirmed, as well. “Can you please explain to me why the food festival as resulted in a sudden increase in rotten soybeans from the food consoles?” Alistair asked, drily.

I shook my head and held up my hands. “For starters, they’re fermented, not rotten. Second, please tell me it is not programmed in the consoles under that term?” I shut my eyes and mentally crossed my fingers in vain hope.

“Of course not,” he scoffed, prompting a whoosh of breath from me. “However, I was curious what dish was so popular, so I searched the database from Earth.”

“I think it ended up being the single most-popular dish we could track,” I admitted. “But it’s still decidedly not rotten.” I always tried to be impartial to foods I didn’t like, and I was trying the hardest I could remember with what was decidedly my least favorite food.

“Fine. Controlled rot.”

I sighed and pinched my nose. “Lots of foods are fermented, Mr. Worthington, including several I am sure you quite enjoy.”

“Alcohol is not a food, Miss Reid.”

“Bread. Cheese. Sour cream. Yogurt,” I ticked off on my fingers. “Miso. Fish sauces. Kimchi. Just about any hot sauces or anything with vinegar…” I glanced at him pointedly.

“Bread is not fermented,” he grumbled.

Behind us, a sleepy voice interjected. “Leavened bread is, especially sourdough.” I turned to see Maverick scratching his bare chest and stretching, his hair sticking out at angles from sleep. “Was the natto really popular enough to make it into a report?” Without asking, he gathered our coffee mugs and shuffled off to the kitchen to refill them. When he returned, he had one for himself. “Besides, you left out pickles.” He dropped a kiss on top of my head before collapsing on the couch next to me.

“It was either that popular, or that disgusting,” Alistair confirmed before taking a grateful sip of hot caffeinated heaven. “Either way, people are requesting enough that poor Noah has asked if we need their services to augment the atmospheric scrubbers.”

“People could be using it for pranks,” Maverick warned as he slung an arm around my shoulders. “Granted, some people probably actually like it, but still.”

I wrinkled my nose and thought for a minute. “If that’s the case, I’ll suggest to Xiomara that we check the sensors to identify who did it and make them eat the stuff. Not a fresh server of it, the actual server they used for the prank.”

“She would never agree to it,” Alistair warned.

“Au contraire,” I smirked. “She likes the taste but hates the smell. And the medbay can fix food poisoning. To her, it would be a very solid case of the punishment fitting the crime.”

Hands flung in the air with exasperation, my assistant surrendered. “If you get that policy passed by the Council, I will…” He thought for a moment. “I will learn to swim.”

“From the mermaid,” I insisted, inciting a yelp from Maverick. How Conor was still asleep, I had no idea.

“Fine. From the mermaid,” Alistair agreed, sticking his hand to shake.

Laughing, I shook my head and took it. Maverick shook me slightly. “What mermaid? I thought mermaids were made-up. Please tell me they’re real. I wanna see one.”

“Kinda real?” I hedged, glancing at him. “Nixe is the beginners’ diving and swimming instructor. I don’t know what happened to her before coming on the ship, but her file shows she suffered an incredibly significant brain trauma. Like, she should be dead kind of serious. Our best guess is that she was a professional mermaid performer at some point, because she has an amazingly detailed memory of a life that didn’t exist and a swimming tail that ended up being some of the most expensive nanotech anyone on the ship has ever touched, let alone seen. Even Noah was somewhat impressed by it.”

“That’s sad but kinda cool,” Maverick admitted, only slightly disappointed.

Alistair scoffed before ending up on the receiving end of my best death-glare. “And she’s nice and patient,” I asserted, somewhat angrily.

“She’s barmy,” he argued.

“And I don’t care,” I ground out. “She is on this ship, so she needed a task. Teaching swimming makes her feel useful, and she is incredibly. Good. At. It. Grey and Noah cleared her psych eval – she’s no crazier than anyone else on this ship. And anyone who can swim in over forty pounds of gold gets an automatic lifeguard certification from anyone on this ship who can swim. Believe me, I ask frequently.”

Alistair opened his mouth to respond, but discovered one of the virtues of having a conversation that included Maverick. “Wait – how much weight? And gold?” my partner asked, astonished.

“Forty pounds,” I confirmed. “They’re actually diving weights, but tests show they really are solid gold. And they could be made of paper for all that they slow her down.”

“She could at least have her memories restored,” Alistair begged, trying to get me to see his version of reason. Before I could snap a response, Alistair’s gaze snapped up over my shoulder on the opposite side from Maverick. Apparently Conor hadn’t been able to sleep through our argument.

“They can’t be restored,” he stated, quietly but factually. “Asked Grey about it once, Charly did. The brain tissue was regrown, but without an exact scan of her brain – down to the molecules – those memories are gone.”

“But Miss Reid has her full memories from before she was attacked,” the argument came.

“Cause our brains are scanned every sixty seconds we are on board,” was the response. “Only exception is when we’re asleep or bathing.” Maverick squeezed my shoulder at hearing this, before grabbing Conor’s hand to reassure him. It was still, and probably would always be, a sensitive topic. “On top of that, we are constantly being healed of minor ailments and even aging.”

That was news, even to me. I chanced a crick in my neck to look up at him. “Why aging?”

He stared down at me, pointedly. When I still did not understand, Alistair gasped softly. “Children,” he nearly whispered. “So there are people who can carry and raise children.”

I swore under my breath at my stupidity. “Of course,” I groaned. “With the exception of Derek, everyone on board is old enough that we would be largely middle-age by the time we reached the colony. Hell, a lot of us already are.” I tapped my knuckles on my lips, brain firing on all six processors to calculate the impacts. Absentmindedly, I handed Conor my coffee and ignored Alistair’s curious glance as I heard it gulped down before footsteps headed to refill it. “Do we know how much of the aging is being ‘healed’? Are we staying at the age we were when we came on board, or are we getting younger?”

“I’m not sure,” Conor admitted as he walked back in and returned my mug, shoving me and Maverick over so he could sit in his usual spot. “Noah?” he called out. He didn’t ask the question on our minds, as we were all aware that Noah was listening to everything in my quarters.

“Good Morning, Conor,” was the reply. “To answer your implied question, any environmental factors that cause humans to grow old are consistently being repaired, along with damage due to cellular senescence.”

“How?” I asked. I was absolutely floored. Human…. Terran scientists had been trying to figure that out since recorded history.

“Food and drink additives to limit telomere shortening, along with therapeutic chemicals in the bathing system,” was the slightly chagrined reply. “Everyone brought on the ship was treated for progerial genetics and non-superficial environmental damage that would lead to premature aging.”

“Are we getting younger?” Maverick whispered. Given his childhood and mine, I couldn’t blame him for the fear in his voice, and squeezed him back just as hard as he grasped me.

“Only marginally,” Miys clarified. “By the time we reach the colony planet, only five Terran revolutions of aging should be reversed from when we left your planet.”

To my surprise, Maverick looked horrified. “Noah. Does that apply to every person on the Ark?”

“Only those who are outside of their maturing period.”

“So, not any humans who were under the age of twenty…five?” Alistair ventured suspiciously, seeming to pick up on what Maverick was suggesting.

“No, Administrator Worthington. Only humans whose aging exceeded the equivalent of thirty Terran revolutions of standard aging are provided telometric and progerial treatments.”

“Thank you, Noah,” Maverick sighed, running his free hand through his hair and nodding at my assistant. “And thank you.” To myself and and Conor, he clarified. “Derek is only seventeen. Sam is not even thirty, and Zach is twenty-six. It wouldn’t be fair for them to barely get out of puberty – or in Derek’s case, stare down the end of it – and have to go back. Can you imagine?”

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#the miys #original fiction #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #science fiction #aliens #found family #mental health

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chobit92 · 4 years

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Home: Jacob Seed/OC Chapter 28

Warnings: Violence, Child Abuse, Rape, Drugs

(2 days later: Friday: Faith is sitting in Joseph’s church arranging flowers into bunches. Joseph is writing in a book. Just then Lexi walks in with a man.). Lexi: Faith your sister has agreed to join us. Faith: What? She has? How do you know? Man: You need to see this. (The man turns on the TV and tunes it to a channel. Faith gasps as she sees Mara on the screen sat in a chair. Her surroundings are dark but she can just make out where she is.). Faith: Is she... Man: John’s bunker. Lexi: Will saw it in the canteen he just came and told us. (Faith stands up and watches as Mara looks at the camera.). John: Are you going to confess? Mara: Yes. John: You will confess and you will atone? Mara: Yes. (Faith watches in shock as John moves into view. Faith gasps as John grabs Mara’s hair and yanks her head back. She then stares as John jams the screwdriver into her sisters neck making her bleed.). Lexi: John ain’t playing. Man: She don’t look too scared though. John: Confess. Mara: Just remember that you asked for it.

(John takes the screwdriver away from Mara’s neck and disappears from view. Mara sighs and looks at the camera.). Mara: Um...I don’t know if there’s a specific way of doing this. Things your meant to say. I’m just gonna start at the beginning. (Joseph is looking at the TV. Will walks in.). Will: Have you seen it? Faith: Yes. I don’t understand why he is broadcasting it. Will: I don’t know. Mara: Some of you may think I’m mad. Some of you might think I’m a monster. Maybe some of you will understand what I did. I was born to parents who did nothing but sell drugs and abuse. My mother always wished that she had just had an abortion. I was never wanted. By her or my father. She kept me locked in the basement. Coming into this bunker today was the hardest thing I’ve done in years. All I can see is that basement. Still hear my mom screaming about what a mistake I am. How useless I am. She believed that I was the devil. Hell maybe she was right. Faith: No sis she wasn’t. (Will rubs Faiths shoulder.). Mara: She would whip me until my back was red raw. She would starve me for days and give me no water. It was dark down there and damp. I was always cold, always hungry and always in pain. Alone in the dark. (Tears roll down Mara’s cheeks. Faith is also crying. Will puts his arm around her.). Will: You know what she did don’t you Faith? Faith: Yes. (Faith lets out a sob and buries her head in Wills Jacket.). Mara: I was never allowed out of the basement because my mother didn’t want anyone to know I existed. In fact nobody did. My mother never told anyone she was pregnant. She never went to a doctor. She gave birth at home. She said it was agony. That I was a little bitch for putting her through so much pain. As if I had somehow decided to be there. She told me that the pain was Gods punishment for giving birth to the devil. She was delusional. Probably all the drugs she took. I was surprised when my father let me out of the basement. It was a strange experience. Being kept underground then suddenly seeing the rest of the house. The window and...Outside. It was confusing. My dad was friends with the priest who used to run the church in Falls End. Some priest he was, turned out he liked children. He liked them a lot. Will: Ah hell. (Joseph is watching the screen with interest.). Mara: I didn’t like him second I saw him. The way he looked at me. The way he spoke. My dad told me to help my mom so I went to the living room. Mom was there and I helped her clean the living room then I was shoved back down in the basement. My sister wasn’t kept in the basement like me. She had her own room. I thought she was loved and cared for. John: You were jealous of her? Mara: No. Worse than that. I was happy for her. I thought she was loved and cared for. She wasn’t. Least in the basement I was left alone most of the time. My baby sister went through hell and I didn’t even know anything about it. I had no clue. That priest came down to the basement one day and started touching me. I had found a large nail, I was using it to draw on the wall. I stuck it in his face, took a load of skin off and left him with a nasty scar. He screamed. My mom came down and got real angry with me. Called me ‘Devil’ again. Then she carved the word into my back. I was six years old. Man: Damn. (Will lets out a breath. Faith is still crying.). Mara: My sister sometimes visited me in the basement. She would sneak me a drink or some food. I remember being so happy that she was okay. She was never dirty, always dressed nice. While my parents were out we would sit and talk to each other for ages. We would play games and cuddle. Over time me and my sister grew close. She was sad that I was kept in the basement. But I looked forward to her visits. When I was a teenager I was finally let out of the basement. I think my mom hoped I would leave the house and not come back. My father told me to piss off to my face. ‘Go on go you little bitch’ he spat. I finally got to see the world. Well...Hope County anyway. It was hard at first. Especially talking to people. But I met some nice people who became my friends. Most people knew who my parents were. They were the ones that dealt drugs to everyone. Even young kids who were still in school. I learned that the drugs my dad sold had already killed two kids. I wondered why the police hadn’t arrested him. Turned out the Sheriff at the time and my dad were best mates. Just like he was best mates with the priest too. Could get away with whatever he wanted. I finally thought that things could be okay. I’d managed to make friends and I was finally out of the basement. I still had to sleep down there though. I thought that once I was a bit older I could take my sister and go. Get our own place together. It’s amazing what you think is possible when you’re a kid. When I was fourteen my sister told me that she was being bullied at school. She showed me bruises on her ribs and a cut on her arm where they’d attacked her. So I went up the school when it finished and waited. I saw my sister walking out and then I saw them. Three of ‘em. One of ‘em grabbed her and pulled her hair while the other one pulled out a little flick knife. I marched over to them and punched the first one. I got the knife off the other one and stuck it in his arm. He was crying like a baby. The other one ran off. Oh my mom was furious when she heard what I’d done. Locked me back in the basement after whipping me again. The boys didn’t bully my sister again though. When I was fifteen my parents went away for the weekend. They took my sister with them and left me on my own. (Mara sighs.). Mara: It was Saturday night and I was looking around the house. I’d found my dad’s whiskey and decided to have some. I was looking around upstairs and that’s when I found them. In my parents’ wardrobe there was a box of tapes. I was curious as to what they were, they didn’t have anything written on them. Curiosity killed the cat though right? I couldn’t believe what I was watching. My baby sister being violated over and over again by my dad and that priest. My mom was there watching. Who does that to their daughter? In the first video she could only be about six. There were over thirty tapes. All filled with images of my baby sister being raped repeatedly. I couldn’t watch it all. I went to the church in Falls End. He looked surprised when he saw me. He looked even more surprised when he saw the kitchen knife I’d bought with me. (Will sighs. Faith is still crying quietly.). Mara: I lost count of how many times I stabbed that dirty raping bastard. I should have cut his dick off. He had this ornate cross on his table. I don’t really know what made me do it but I thought it was fitting. I picked up the cross and shoved it through his chest. Then I went back home. The priest wasn’t found until the morning. Sunday. Church day. Not that day. Church was closed, surrounded by crime scene tape. Who would do such a thing? (Mara laughs.). John: You let your anger take control of you. Your sin is wrath. Mara: Yeah. You can put the screwdriver down though. I ain’t finished yet. I walked around town and listened to what everyone was saying about the grisly murder. I even heard that people were coming forward to say that the priest had abused them. He hadn’t just done it to my sister. He was a paedophile. Not a priest. I ended up hanging out with Wheaty in the woods. I didn’t get home until late. My parents were back by then. They had heard about their beloved friend being killed. My father had lost his temper. He thought it was all my sisters fault. My father was worried that they would find drugs in the church and other things...When I came home my father had beaten my sister so badly I could hardly recognise her. She was curled up in the corner of the lounge sobbing. Her little dress was covered in blood. She had a lot of broken bones, her jaw, her nose. She was broken. So was I, I guess. I was tired. I’d had enough. Seeing my sister like that was awful. I was supposed to protect her. I had one fucking job. I failed. My dad noticed that I was back and he started shouting and swearing at me. Then he said that he would drown me first. Mom was upstairs running the bath. She was going to drown my sister. (Faith is sobbing.). Mara: I wasn’t going to fail her again. I went to the kitchen and got the knife. Same one I used on the priest. I went back to the lounge and my dad just stared at me. I told him I was the one who killed his friend. Gave him what he deserved. He said he always knew I was a head case. That I wasn’t normal. That I was different. A mistake. He said I was nothing but demon spawn. So I thought alright then...I’ll show him then. My father started yelling that I was done for now. He’d drown me himself and nobody would know coz nobody really knew I existed. I then did the unthinkable, the unforgiveable, the ultimate sin. I started stabbing my father. Will: Jesus. Man: My God. Mara: My sister could only watch in horror screaming from the floor as I stabbed daddy again and again. My mother came flying down the stairs and she screamed when she saw what I had done. She pointed at me and screamed ‘I knew it, Devil’. I guess you can’t kill a monster without becoming one. I stabbed my mother repeatedly before slitting her throat. My sister was crying and I hugged her and told her everything was going to be fine. I called an ambulance for my sister. When they saw my parents they were horrified. The police arrived a little while later. My sister was screaming for me. Begging for me not to be taken away. I told her I loved her and that I’d see her again. I thought I was going to prison but oh no. They thought I was insane. They found out I’d killed the priest too. I was placed in a psychiatric facility. I was released when I was eighteen. I was stunned. I never thought I’d see the light of day again. Seemed a bit stupid to me. I told them I’d been locked in a basement for years. So what do they do? Why they lock me in a tiny room of course. Coz that makes sense. I had nowhere to live and no money so...I lived on the streets. I was sleeping in an abandoned apartment block that had turned into a den for junkies and gang members. The leader of the gang was always there dealing drugs. One day though I noticed that he had two young girls handcuffed to an old bed with a rusty frame. I spoke to them. Turned out they had run away from their abusive parents. Sisters. They reminded me so much of my sister and me. They were just trying to get somewhere better. They didn’t though. Ivan was the leader of the local gang. Into all kinds of shit. Nobody messed with him. Those that did ended up dead. One of the girls was seventeen the other was twelve. I didn’t want to get involved. I was on my own and had myself to look out for. But later that night I saw a man in the room with Ivan and the girls. He was handing Ivan a large wad of cash and the girls were crying. Their trousers were around their ankles. Ivan was selling them to dirty pervs. Pimping them out. I weren’t having that. You should know what happened next John. Seeing as you know me well by now. John: You killed them. Mara: Yeah. That’s where I got the revolver from. I took it from Ivan. Then I used it to help the girls escape after stabbing Ivan and the perv. One of Ivan’s mates always watched the door of the crack den. Knew he wouldn’t just let us leave. He had a gun too. He raised it to shoot me but luckily for me I was quicker. Shot him in the head. His blood spattered the wall and I didn’t even care. I still don’t. I gave the girls the money that perv had given to Ivan and told them about a shelter I knew about that wasn’t far. I hope they went there. I hope they were okay. I met Franky not long after and we hung out for a bit just trying to get by on the streets. Until she buggered off. Then I met Bonnie and Alex and stayed with them. I kept looking for my sister. Came here seven years ago then again four years ago. I always hoped to find her. I hoped to see her again and I did. Came back here and met up with her again. Killed more people. Thirteen members of the Whitetail Militia. Also killed that guy that came to your ranch and threatened to shoot us. It gets hard to keep count after a while. I am a killer. That’s it. Now I am going to be that psycho girl again that everyone looks at funny. The girl that killed her parents. Coz you know there must be something wrong with me right? I must be insane. Normal people don’t kill people. Except they seem to forget that way back when they probably did. All the time. People have always killed people. We’re good at destruction. It’s what we do. (Mara finally stops talking. She just sits there looking blank.). John: That is your full confession? Mara: That’s everything. John: No other sins? Mara: Not that I know of. Ain’t got anything to be greedy with and I have no Lust in my life. Ain’t never even had a boyfriend. Never will neither. Not now. Can’t have much pride coz I hate myself. John: Hm. I see. (The camera moves and John’s face can now be seen. He smiles.). John: I told you dear Faith that your sister would join us. That she would say yes. (Faith gasps.). John: You might not want to watch this next part though. (The video feed suddenly disappears and ‘No Signal’ now displays on the blank screen. Faith lets out a whimper and Will wraps his arms around her.

---Jacob sits in the makeshift mess hall of the veterans center. Terry came racing into his office telling him about the broadcast. Everyone sat watching as Mara confessed to John. Jacob couldn’t stop staring at her. He tells himself that he is intrigued by her. The way she has killed without hesitation that’s all that draws him to her. Nothing else. She would probably be no good to him anyway. Not really. Not like his men. She wouldn’t be able to pass the trials. She is pretty though. He can’t deny that. So beautiful. He tries to remember what she felt like. What she smelled like but he can’t. He barely remembers much about that night. Only that he fucked her. That she cried his name and called him a grizzly bear. He gets up and goes back up to his office. He sighs as he flicks through the days reports. He didn’t get much sleep last night and he is tired. He struggles to sleep. He didn’t struggle when Mara was sleeping next to him though. He didn’t have any nightmares either. He sighs and picks up the report about the latest Militia sightings.

---John walks into Josephs church. Faith looks up her eyes red from crying. Joseph stands up and greets him.). Faith: Why did you broadcast it? John: Your sisters confession? I thought you would want to see it. Faith: How did you get here so quickly? John: I didn’t. Faith: But we were just watching you with my sister in your bunker. John: That was filmed two days ago. It wasn’t live. Faith: Two days...Where is she now? John: I don’t know. After her atonement I baptised her in the river. I also gave her the Edens Gate tattoo. She wanted it on the back of her neck. Then she left for the Whitetail Mountains. She said she was going to collect her things then meet up with you in the Henbane. Faith: I haven’t seen her. John: Hm. I’m sure she’ll be back. She wouldn’t leave you. She cares for you too much. Faith: I know.

---11.23pm. Mara stumbles into the bathroom. She groans in pain and wipes the dirty mirror and pulls her top down. She stares at the word ‘Wrath’ carved across her chest. She sighs. Now she hates her body even more. The word ‘Devil’ on her back along with all the scars from the whip now this. Tears sting her eyes. John has serious issues. He enjoyed slicing into her skin. He enjoyed the way she cried out in pain. She didn’t mind the pain. She has found that she likes it. That’s why she cuts herself sometimes. But she didn’t scream though. Wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. She still isn’t sure about John. He seems to honestly believe that he has helped her. Saved her. She almost wishes he had drowned her in the river. For a moment she thought he was going to. He held her under way longer than was necessary. She winces as she runs a damp cloth over her chest. Damn is it sore. She also rubs the back of her neck which itches slightly from the latest tattoo John has given her. The black cross logo of Edens Gate. There’s no going back now. She is officially a member whatever the hell that means. She goes back to the kitchen area and puts her things in her holdall. She doesn’t own much. Her drawings and pens, some clothes and shoes, the iPod that Franky gave her that she can’t charge. She grabs the blanket from the bed and shoves it into the holdall. She just about manages to fit it in there. She then slings the holdall across her body but it rubs against the scarring on her chest. She moves it so that it is over her shoulder. She takes one last look around the trailer. She sighs then opens the door. She stops dead when she sees several militia standing outside with their guns aimed at her.). Man: Time to die peggie bitch!

#Far Cry 5 #My Writing #Writing #Jacob Seed #Jacob Seed x Mara Jessop #Mara Jessop #Faith's sister #Faith Seed #John Seed #Joseph Seed #original characters

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villainousshakespeare · 5 years

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For the Price of a Book: An (eventually) smutty Loki Fairy Tale: Chapter 3

Summary: In the days before the events of Thor I, Loki inadvertently comes upon a female servant being punished by a pair of guards. Her crime? Stealing a book from the rooms she was tasked to clean. Curiosity captured, he decides to break through the shy exterior by any means necessary.

Work in progress, multiple chapters

Pairing: Loki/OFC

Warnings/tags: Some allusions to attempted/prevented rape in the beginning. (not by Loki) Eventual Romance, Angst, Sex, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Pre-Thor (2011)Master/Servant, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Dom Loki (Marvel), Feels, Romance, Loki (Marvel) Angst

AO3: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Lysse lounged on the large green sofa, a soft smile on her lips and a small book lying on her stomach. There was something so bittersweet about finishing a novel. A sense of satisfaction, laced through with a hint of sorrow that one had to let go of the friends made on the journey. She also always experienced a silly fear that once the cover closed something unforeseen would happen to spoil the happily ever after she had just experienced with them.

“You are a ridiculous, fanciful girl, Lyssette,” She chided herself aloud. “You know very well that no such people exist!”

She often talked to herself out loud when she was alone. It was a habit begun in her youth that she had never managed to outgrow. Absurdly, she also tended to address herself with her full, formal name, a thing that only her grandfather had ever done. She missed him, with his gentle eyes and love of learning. Maybe that was why she spoke to herself in such a manner.

In the week that Lysse had been in Loki’s employ, she had become more content than she had been since her world had come crashing down around her a year ago as she was tossed out of the university. The five rooms - living room, study, bath, her small chamber, and the large bedroom it attached to where Loki slept - were easy enough to keep clean. Unlike Fandrall, Loki seemed to like everything precisely in place, and took pains to keep it so. True to his prediction, he often made his own bed before leaving his sleeping quarters, and only once had he failed to toss his worn clothing in the basket provided for it. Some light dusting, a scouring of the bathroom, and a sweep and mop of the floors had been all the cleaning she was required to do. For the supposed God of Chaos, he was very orderly, she thought with a smile. From his environment to his appearance, everything was always neat and tidy.

Although, she had to amend as her mind wandered, the way he looked in the morning was different. The first day she had been sitting there, diligently polishing his silver tea service, when he stumbled out of his bedroom bleary eyed and hair mussed. His chest was bare, lean muscles rippling beneath pale skin. His lower half was clad only in soft green linen pants, bare feet making no noise as he padded into the room. It was hard to say which of them had been more surprised when Lysse looked up, saw him in his half naked glory, and dropped the creamer with a shriek. Loki, who had obviously in that moment forgotten her very existence, had let out a startled cry of his own before summoning a pair of knives from who knows where. By the time they each calmed down and Loki had vanished the daggers, Lysse was thoroughly embarrassed. It hadn't helped matters when, not wanting to meet his vaguely accusatory gaze, she had found her eyes following the light trail of hair on his hard, slender waist, down to where his green sleep pants were tenting in the most insistent way. Lysee was convinced that nothing in her life would ever embarrass her more, and yet she could not look away from the obvious sign of her Prince's morning arousal.

"Getting an eyeful, sparrow?" he asked, a smug tone in his voice as he ran his hand absently over his impressive bulge.

"Forgive me, my lord Prince," she managed to stammer out, face scarlet and eyes squeezing shut as there was no safe place to look.

"Best get used to it now," he murmured, seemingly as much to himself as to her, "it appears that I am to have no secrets from you."

"I will go fetch your breakfast," she blurted out, curtsying and bolting from the room to the sound of his amused chuckle.

She was in love with him already by then, of course, and even more so now. It was as inevitable as it was pathetically hopeless. He had saved both her body from rape and her soul from atrophy. To go from the despair of the servants quarters where thinking was as foreign as flying, to this tower of wonder where books abounded and mental tasks were completed (even if not by her) was like being reborn. It was a temple to knowledge, and Prince Loki was both her High Priest and her God.

”Good lord, Lyssette, you sound like a tawdry novel!” She berated her brain, realizing she was blushing again just at the memory of that first morning.

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, she rose from her recumbent position. He would be coming back soon, and expecting tea and biscuits to be laid out, and she would rather die than disappoint him. Lighting the small burner beneath the teapot on the sideboard, Lysse opened the tin of baked goods she had stolen from the kitchen. Knowing her prince had a particular fondness for the chocolate and the spice treats, she laid three of each out onto the plate and set it on the table, chattering to herself as she did.

"You know that it is useless to hope for impossible things," she scolded herself. "Everyone has a place in this life. Much as we might not wish for the place we are given, it is our duty to accept it and make the most of it."

"I disagree," a low, musical voice said from behind her. Spinning and almost dropping the cup and saucer she was holding, Lysse saw Loki grinning in the doorway.

"You should wear a bell," she mumbled under her breath, before her shyness over took her and she dropped her eyes and bobbed a curtsey.

"What was that?" Loki, who evidently had remarkably good hearing along with everything else, asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nothing, Prince Loki," she hastened to assure him. "I simply didn't realize you were home. Forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive," he waved away her concern, crossing to pilfer a biscuit from the plate and pop in in his mouth. "Who were you talking to just now?"

"Myself, Sire," she admitted, shame faced.

"Ah," he sat down at the table, stretching out his impossibly long legs. "I do that sometimes myself. It is, after all, difficult to find anyone else worth conversing with, is it not?"

Lysse didn't answer, but she was fairly certain he didn't expect her to. Finding safety in the simple task of preparing his tea, she tried not to moon too openly at his handsome face or perfect form as she worked beside him. She sometimes wondered if he knew how she felt, but if he did he at least had grace enough not to show it. She would be forever grateful for that kindness.

"I have something for you, sparrow," he said suddenly. "A gift, of sorts."

"My Prince, you have given me more than enough already," she protested quietly.

"Nonsense. I have given you barely anything. And in any case, this is a necessity."

With a flourish of his hand a pile of green fabric appeared. Smiling ironically, Loki held out the stack to her with a grand gesture.

"Behold, the uniform of house Loki, Odinson," he proclaimed. Lysse did not know why, but a note of bitterness had entered his voice at the pronouncement. "Wear it with pride. Or as much as can be engendered by such."

"I... I am beyond honored to wear your colors, Prince Loki," she said honestly.

Reaching out hesitantly, Lysse accepted the pile of dresses from him. The dark green fabric was of a fine material, much nicer than any of the dull grey servant's uniforms she had worn since becoming employed here. It felt soft and expensive to her hand, and she had to resist the urge to rub it against her face.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense," he teased, raising his tea to toast her. "Go try it on. The tailors insist it should fit you perfectly."

With a bubbling excitement she did her best to hid from his knowing eyes, Lysse bobbed another courtesy and all but ran into her small room, anxious to try on her new dress. This made it official. She was tied to him now. She had a real place in his life, if not in the one she secretly craved. After giving up hope all those months ago of ever finding any kind of peace, of place in this world, he had claimed her. It was not what she wanted, it could and would never be that, but it would be enough. She would make it enough.

***

Loki grinned indulgently as he sipped his tea and nibbled on his third biscuit. She was so excited by just a few paltry dresses. And not even the type of beautiful ball gowns that the women of his acquaintance would gush over, but a stack of identical uniforms of his household. The very idea of him having a uniform, or a household for that matter, was absurd to him. Still, he had spent a great deal of time designing the dresses, and he hoped that she would be pleased with the results.

It was a bit of a shock to him how quickly he had adjusted to the girl being here. He had worried that first night, when he came back to his rooms to find her asleep on his plush green sofa, the hastily modified dress she had been wearing coming apart in her sleep and providing him yet again with a tantalizing glimpse of the curve of her breasts. He could not afford a distraction now, of all times. He had his project to accomplish, and if he was to succeed he needed to concentrate. He could not have some chattering female disturbing his peace.

He need not have worried. With the exception of the belatedly amusing incident their first morning when he had barged in on her half undressed and sporting a painfully obvious erection, it had all gone smoothly. He did feel a bit sorry for the fright he had given the girl. He was not sure if it was the daggers he had pulled out hiding or his equally hard cock jutting out at her that had startled her the most. From the way her big eyes and lovely mouth had gaped at the tenting in his trousers, he suspected the latter. He had done his best to ignore the insistent twitching along his length, even running his hand along it to try and still the urgent command from his lower region to use those wide open lips of hers to relieve the night's lust. She was not here for that, he reminded himself. He would not lower himself to the level of the reprobates who used their servants to slake their baser desires.

Still, it gave him a smug feeling of satisfaction the way her eyes followed him when she thought he was not looking. He could feel them on him much of the time, staring at his face from behind her own book when he was reading, skimming along his body when he walked into the room. He liked that she so obviously found him attractive. He knew he would never be the hulking mass of muscle his brother was, and that to most of Asgard Thor was the example of manly perfection. It had been a long time now since he had tried to fill out his form with bulk, but the memory of those years of striving to pack on layers of muscle still could rub raw if he let them. It was not as though he were a weakling, and he had mental and arcane powers that few others could boast of, but it still was a sop to his ego that his little sparrow approved of his looks.

She was very much like a small bird. She would chirp away happily when she thought herself alone, but then instantly turn all silent flight when he entered. He was doing his best to give her space, not to force her to confide in him, but it was becoming more and more difficult. He knew she had a secret, it was printed in bright bold letters in her clever eyes, and he was determined to find out what it was. It was the least he deserved as recompense after rescuing her.

Not that he wasn't enjoying having her in his employ. There was something decadently... well, prince-like in having her to fetch his breakfast, prepare his afternoon tea, and wait on him as he ate. She had even found things to clean, her nominal purpose for being here, in his rooms. The rest of the time they read in companionable silence. He had started tracking the books she took from his shelves, startled by how quickly she devoured them. Perhaps there was a clue to her mystery in what she chose to read, but he had yet to discover it. In the week she had been with him, she had read two novels, a treaty on inter-realm adoption, and a shockingly graphic text on sacrificial rites. That discovery had truly startled him.

"What is bothering you?" he had asked one night, as they sat in his living room. Loki had been pouring over a trade charter Odin had assigned him, and Lysse was engrossed in a musty looking scroll he couldn't quite place.

"Nothing, Sire," she responded, as he knew she would.

"Sparrow," he sighed, rubbing his eyes, "you are thinking so hard that I can hear your brain. What is it?"

"What is a veilin athame?" she asked at last, raising her eyes from the scroll.

"What?" he sputtered, sure he must have heard her wrong.

"A veilin athame?" she repeated, much to his horror.

"Why in the Nine are you... what are you reading?"

"The Maenad Codex," she replied, scrunching up her little nose. "I've heard of an athame, of course, but never a veilin athame."

"I should hope not," he said with a bark of laughter. "A veilin athame is a ritual knife, enchanted to keep the victim from being aware of it until the Maenad, having driven her victim mad and rampant with lust, strikes down and severs his organs."

"His... organs?" she squeaked. "You mean?"

"I do," he nodded, watching her squirm.

"Oh," she said faintly, putting the book away.

"Why are you reading the Maenad Codex?" he asked, getting up and crossing to take it from her hands. "I trust you were not intending to act out their rituals on me?"

He knew it was unfair to speak the words, as he did, with his head at her ear, almost purring them to her. The maenad, while deadly in the end, were known for working their magic of sexual ecstasy on their pray, some even willingly going to their death for the chance to first experience the pleasure they offered.

Lysse made a noise that he supposed was a denial and pulled back from him as his breath ghosted against her neck.

"So why that scroll?" he asked again, sighing as she just shook her head.

As he had walked away, he could have sworn he heard her mutter "because it was there," under her breath. It was not the first or the last time he had caught her saying words she obviously meant to keep to herself. His hearing was remarkably good, a trait he had worked to develop as a young boy forever on the receiving end of bullying. It was another piece of her strange puzzle. She would make these quick, irreverent comments when she believed no one else would hear, but keep mum and meek when she feared an audience. Just this afternoon, he had sworn she grumbled something about getting him a bell to wear. As much as he craved quiet, Loki found himself wishing to bring out the saucy creature he sensed was hiding beneath the timid servant.

"My Lord Prince," he heard her breath now from the other room, "it is beautiful! Truly, it is too nice for me to wear."

As Lysse walked into the room in her uniform, Loki was forced to agree with her. In the rough grey dress of the general servants, she had been pretty enough to draw the attention of Fandrall, one of the most discerning eyes for beauty in Asgard, and the opportunist guards at the gate, but still looked enough of a mouse to not draw the common eye. Green however, was apparently her color. The deep emerald color made her eyes sparkle and brought roses to her cheeks. The design Loki had been at such pains to devise stretched tight against her breasts, the gold embroidered snake twining across the bodice accentuating her curved body in ways that made his mouth go dry. She was a vision, and would never pass unnoticed in the halls again. The thought of all of the other men, warriors, lords, upper servants, ogling her as she walked down the hall or stood behind his chair in the banquet hall filled Loki with a stabbing irritation.

"Thank you so much, My Prince," she gushed, sinking to her knees next to where he sat and, blushing, raising his hand to kiss the back.

In the face of her happiness, Loki found the sharp command he was about to make for her to change back died on his lips. Swallowing the gall that threatened to choke him, Loki reached out and brushed a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

"You look lovely, Sparrow," he told her honestly. "You will bring honor to my house."

As she smiled at his shoes, Loki forced the misgiving away. She was just a servant, if a pretty, intelligent one. It was no concern of his if others admired her. He would be happy for her if she caught someone’s eye. He was the God of lies, after all.

#loki fic #loki #loki/ofc #fanfic #tom hiddleston #eventual romance #eventual smut #pre thor #thor au

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shewritesoccasionally · 6 years

Text

Tell His Story - Part 7

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader

Summary: When Peter Parker comes to [Y/N] asking for the story of how she went from Asgard to a tea shop in Manhattan, she uses it as an opportunity to tell a story of love, lose, and a Prince who is not what Midgard believes him to be.

Author Notes: SOOOOOO.... That was a much longer delay than expected. To those who stuck around through that, Thank you and I’m sorry. Side note, there will be last chapter after this one. Thank you to those of you who like, reblog, and follow!

Peter had sat himself on the couch, curled into a patch of sunshine like a cat. Outside, the chilled wind tore through the streets, but inside the sun could warm your bones. A few of the late lunch patrons sat amongst their discarded coats and gloves but no one seemed to need anything, so I settled beside the sunning hero.

“I didn't know the real details of New York until I was here.”

“Thor didn't tell you?”

“Not really. It all happened so fast. My rescue.” I smiled. “Frigga came and told me to be ready, that I'd be taken somewhere safe.”

“Lady [Y/N].” Thor's usually booming voice called out so soft and tired I didn't think it was real. “It's time to get you out of here, I think.” As he approached the glass of my cell his eyes showed how tired he truly was.

“What has happened?” I asked, pulling myself up on weak legs.

“We must move quickly.” He opened the door and the cell was flooded with fresh cool air, causing me to shiver.

“Thor?” I could see the secret he was trying to hide behind his eyes.

“Loki is alive.” He answered, putting his arm around my shoulders to guide and steady me, and then leading me towards the stairs. My mind went white at his words. I couldn't think, couldn't process. His sentences echoed off the walls of my empty head, drowning any other thoughts. We moved forward and I fought to catch up with my body.

“Where is he?” I stuttered out finally.

“Here. Preparing to stand trial for war crimes against Midgard.” My head swam as Thor lead me through the familiar halls.

“I need to see him.”

“I am sorry, [Y/N], but we must get you to safety.”

“Safety. How am I not safe? Loki... Loki is here. He will -”

“Please listen,” Thor stopped us and tucked us out of sight into an alcove in the hall. The sunlight shone on the stone and I let my eyes focus on it, seeing it for the first time in so long. But Thor shook me firmly, drawing my eyes back to his. “Loki waged another's war on Midgard. Someone much more powerful than him arranged it from what I've discovered. I don't know if it was through torture, or manipulation, or if Loki is just that far gone.” I swallowed the growing lump in my throat.

“He will be punished. But at this point there seems only one way to punish him...”

“I don't-” My brain felt like it was waking up from a deep sleep and the world around me was finally snapping into focus. Thor's soft eyes bore into mine and the world settled around me. “Me.”

“He asked me about you, when I brought him home. When I told him you'd been punished for his crimes he became enraged.”

“Odin will punish him by punishing me further.” Thor nodded. “Does he deserve it?”

“I do not believe he was acting on his own. Possibly only out of self-preservation. More importantly, you do not deserve it.” I thought quickly over the possibilities. My longing to see my beloved despite my anger, my fear of what he'd done, and my own fear of what Odin would do to us both.

“Where am I to go?” I answered through the weight on my chest.

“I will take you to my friends on Midgard.” He answered, already pulling me toward the Bifrost.

“The place where my husband, your brother, just waged war?” I answered incredulously.

“They do not need to know he is your husband.”

“They deserve to, do they not?”

“I am done having you judged for his crimes.” Thor snapped, guilt in his eyes.

“And then he brought me here.” I sighed, glancing out the window at the passersby as they clutched their coats to themselves.

“To Mr. Stark?” He asked and I nodded.

“I had never been to Midgard, so I didn't know what to expect but as we landed on the roof of the Avengers tower, all I could see was destruction.” Peter had a look of understanding, he had seen that destruction in person and on the news. It was historic. “I realized then exactly how unwelcome I was going to be.”

“Stark!” Thor called through the empty rooms, he's voice echoing through the halls. There were plastic sheets hanging from the ceilings to cover holes in the glass and walls and they fluttered in the wind. The floor of the room was smashed in and uneven as Thor lead me across the room. “Stark!” He called again.

“Shouldn't you be overseeing a trial, Point Break?” A dark haired man entered the room from one end, looking as tired as Thor but wearing a stiff smile. Behind him, a beautiful woman with red hair and another dark haired man walked tentatively. As they entered, I tucked myself behind Thor's large form, gripping the edge of my dress to keep my hands steady.

“Shortly. I need a favor.” Thor said, moving to the side and exposing me. “My friend needs a safe place to stay. Can you help?”

I could feel the groups eyes on me and I became increasing aware of my dirty skin, matted hair, and filthy clothes. My hands itched to move up and straighten my hair but I forced them to grip the dress tighter, trying to keep my whole body from shaking.

“This is not a daycare center.”

“I understand that, but she has no where to go.”

“Why?” My ears began to ring and I could feel the woman's gentle eyes pressing into me while Stark and Thor bickered. The sound of their voices was lost in the ringing until it was so loud that I thought my head would split in half and I knew I had to make it stop.

“I'm seeking refuge from King Odin's judgment.” I blurted out, feeling my mouth move as the ringing stopped abruptly with my words.

“The last Asgardian criminal to come here nearly blew it up. And you want us to take another one?”

“She has been wrongly imprisoned and I'm trying to make it right.”

“Imprisoned for what?” The soft voice of the other man called out.

“I am [Y/N], wife of Loki.” I said, my voice strong as I straightened my shoulders. “I have been imprisoned in his place for his treason.”

“Get her out of here.” Stark said firmly, placing himself between the woman and myself.

“Stark, please.” Thor breathed out.

“Prince Thor, we both knew this was not the right choice. Take me back to Asgard and I will face the King.”

“What she said.” Stark called, sounding more agitated. And then Thor was yelling, and the other men were yelling and the woman just watched me. Tears slid down my cheeks and I curled into myself, all my previous strength drained out as the fear returned and gripped my throat closed. And then there was a hand on my arm.

“Are you innocent?” It was the woman, she was speaking quietly, as if to an injured animal. The men had stopped yelling and Stark was tensely watching the exchange, fists clenched. I didn't answer.

“She was a servant in our kitchens, fell in love with and married my brother, and was then punished for his treason. She has spent the last 11 months imprisoned. She did no crime, and my father will use her to punish Loki. She cannot stay on Asgard.” Thor said softly, looking only at the red haired woman. “Please.”

“Tony.” She said, looking at him firmly.

“This is a terrible idea.” Stark said finally.

Peter looked upset, brow furrowed and hands clenched around the mug of tea.

“Deep breathes.” I said, laughing under my breath.

“Mr. Stark was so mean.”

“No, he was justified. Loki had just enacted a terrible attack. People had died and more had suffered. Stark himself had been dealing with the aftermath. He was afraid, I believe.” I turned back to the window and went back to watching the crowd.

“I owe quite a bit to Pepper. She convinced him to let me stay, took me to a room downstairs where I could take a shower and found me some Stark Industries sweats in the lab that I could wear.”

I stood in the tile washroom, warm wet area filled the room from my bathing. My hair was de-tangled and clean, my skin felt a bit raw from my scrubbing at the grime. The thick, soft long sleeve shirt and pants the woman had provided were rubbing gently on my tender skin. In my hands, I held my dress. The only dress I'd had for so many years. It was covered in filth. Patched and fixed in some areas and yet frayed and torn in others. I had dreamed of the day I would have something nicer to wear. And now I struggled to put the garment in the garbage. My fingers gripped the fabric as they always had when I had been trying to keep calm. I hated it and yet it felt like part of me. I knock on the door was the only thing that could draw me from my thoughts.

“[Y/N],” The woman called. “Doing alright in there?”

“Yes. I am well.” I called back and dropped the dress in the bin beside the counter. I opened the door and felt the rush of cool air as the steam escape. “I apologize for how long I took.”

“You're fine, don't worry.” she smiled. “Can I show you to your room?” I nodded and she led the way down the hall.

We walked in silence for awhile before she turned and smiled at me.

“My name is Pepper, you can let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Lady Pepper.” I gave a half bow and she looked uncomfortable.

“Just Pepper, is fine.” She responded as she opened a door on her left. “You'll be staying in here.”

The room was larger than I was used to by 3 times, a large bed in the center of one wall and a black rectangle opposite it. There as a desk and chair, a dresser, and a wall that was entirely windows.

“I'll come by later to show you to the kitchen.” I nodded softly and Pepper moved to the black rectangle.

“Would you like the TV on?” She asked and I furrowed my brows at her. With a sigh she pushed a button the rectangle and the center lit up with color and images. The sound of talking filled the room, as well as laughing. Pepper handed me another black contraption and showed me different buttons to push and then left. I sat on the floor in front of the box and pushed the various buttons to see what would happen, the image shifted and changed over and over until I stopped suddenly at the sight in front of me. It was Loki, the image was shaky and blurred but it was him, full regalia, flying on a Chitari craft as the city behind him was on fire. Another shaky image of Thor and a man in blue and red fighting beside each other, to another of a metal man flying through the streets. My eyes filled with tears once again as I realized I was watching a recounting of what Loki had done.

“Over time, I started to figure out the TV and the other midgardian things I had never seen before. Pepper was very helpful, she got me clothes and tried to explain the city to me.” Peter watched me intently as I explained. “Tony started talking to me eventually, although we have never really gotten along.” I sighed.

“Eventually, Pepper felt that I should get a place of my own, something I had never had. Stark Industries purchased this shop, with the apartment above it, and donated it to me. Pepper even helped me decorate it. I was allowed to stay here as long as I understood that I would receive regular checkups from the Avengers or Shield. I know that's why you've been coming by Peter.”

“What! No. Okay, yes. At first.” Peter fumbled. “But I like being here. You make good tea and I like hearing about your life.” I laughed as he threw his hands out and tried to placate me.

“If you say so.”

“Can I ask, how long have you been here on Earth?”

“5 years.” I said, letting my mind wander to my home. “Thor comes to see me occasionally. He came to tell me that Loki had been imprisoned as I had been. He told me that He had told Odin and Loki that I had escaped to the Asgardian countryside. And he came to tell me that Frigga and Loki had died in the Dark Elf attack.”

“He's dead...” Peter breathed out.

“Thor said he gave his life bravely in the fight. I have mourned him a second time. At least he managed to redeem himself before he was lost. I know he had good in him. No monster could have given me the love and happiness that he did.” Peter put his hand on shoulder tentatively. “And that is the story of how I came to be on Earth.”

@zeddlocket

@starscreamloki

@arnoldanus

@godhatesskyleigh

@villainsaremorerelatable

@tiffy119

@thatcrazybookwormgeek

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki fanfic #marvel #female reader #fanfic #completed fanfic #mcu

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goldenkamuyhunting · 6 years

Text

Golden Kamuy re-reading: CHAP 15: ‘Scent’

Trasposed in: Episode 4 ‘Grim reaper’

Currently the story is at: Chap 188: ‘Live’ (scanlated)

CHAP 15: ‘Scent’

The cover shows Asirpa walking in the snow, the suru, the punishing wand, in her hands.

Asirpa thankfully has taken really, really well Sugimoto’s abandonment. She’s not desperate, she’s angry that Sugimoto left without a word, finding his actions selfish. Well, maybe ‘well’ isn’t the right word considering how angry she seems but well, you get the idea.

Probably her reaction though is also due how she’s still distancing herself from Sugimoto. In fact she talks about their relation as a ‘partnership’, they were working together because it helped them both. She’s not facing the emotional aspect of it, how they were also starting to get close, how he was starting to get important to her.

Although long term anger is damaging, short term anger can help you to react without giving in to worry and desperation. By reacting with anger to Sugimoto’s abandonment, Asirpa is reacting actively to it instead than just accepting it passively.

Of course, if that anger had lasted for too long, if that anger had started to control Asirpa’s life, that anger would have ruined her. For now though, it’s just a normal response to Sugimoto’s action and one that’s pushing her to do something.

In fact Asirpa, instead than passively remain home, decides to go search for Sugimoto, claiming she want to whack him. She can’t find him and, although she doesn’t voice it, her true feelings come out in for of thoughts. The truth is that she isn’t just ‘angry’. She’s also worried about him. She cares about him, he’s not just a partner out of mere convenience.

At this point she wonders if he went to the town however, as the town is huge, she realizes it wouldn’t be easy for her to find him. So she uses her brain and decides to use Retar but, in order to use Retar, she has to call him first.

And I guess this is a good moment to point out something about the whole Retar thing. Retar has come to save Asirpa twice. Since he was very fast at it and since the two times followed one another the most logical explanation would be Retar was actually checking on Asirpa at distance, somehow understood she was in troubles and came to rescue. In this chapter we learn that he could tell from Asirpa’s scent if she was in troubles which is why she could call him.

We might assume the other times too he felt her scent and realized she was in troubles… only the other times she hadn’t actively called him.

Does he come checking on her when he feels her scent signals she’s greatly upset (this time she’s only worried but not in a life threatening situation so maybe she needed to also aid the thing) and if it turns out she’s in trouble he acts?

Hard to say.

Retar will later disappear from the story (and, in a way, he’ll be replaced by Ryu). I wonder if it was planned or if the author decided to remove him because this amazing wolf that appears suddenly to save the day and that left Asirpa ride him felt almost as if it was a deus ex machina, a magical element more than a realistic one.

But well, maybe it’s just me.

The anime cut short Asirpa’s method to draw Retar and doesn’t bother explaining on scents. It’s not a big deal.

Anyway the visual implies that Asirpa’s trick managed to draw Retar close… before we jump to Sugimoto wandering through the city.

As he walks he sees a woman and thinks she’s ‘Ume-chan’, or better Umeko, Toraji’s wife but also the person for whom he’s doing all this.

The mistake is likely not coincidental. Sugimoto is probably feeling alone and lost now that he had to leave Asirpa behind… like he did when he left Umeko behind. This had probably woken in him the memories of Umeko and the longing to see her, to see the person for whom he’s doing all this.

Anyway, as he thinks the woman might be Umeko, a flashback starts. We see Umeko with the child she had with Toraji who’s now old enough to walk and talk. She’s recognizing the flowers he’s handing her by the scent as her eyesight is bad.

Then a soldier (Sugimoto) comes closer to her house. A woman, possibly a servant or Toraji’s relative, stops him asking him nervously what he might need. The woman clearly didn’t recognize Sugimoto at first and might even find him a bit scary. Sugimoto shows her some bones, telling her that the bones of his finger are all that’s left of Toraji and all he could bring back to her.

The woman is grateful as she admitted they had given up on getting Toraji’s remains.

Umeko asks who’s the person who’s talking and her child tells her he’s a soldier.

The woman who was talking with Sugimoto has a sudden realization and asks him if he’s Sugimoto Saichi. Umeko hears it and is surprised but moves to get closer. Sugimoto doesn’t reply and when she calls him asking if it’s really him he turns away, clearly planning to abandon her again.

Umeko is overjoyed at the idea Sugimoto might be home, although she admits her eyesight is so bad she only can see a blur. She asks him if he has really came back home when she catches his scent and shudders before asking him who he is.

Her reaction shock an already worn out and in poor shape Sugimoto. He wonders what did he smell like to her and, as he does so, we see an image of him dressed in his soldier uniform and completely covered in blood (other characters will say Sugimoto reeks of blood, though they probably mean figuratively).

It’s hard to say if Sugimoto reeked of blood back then as he was wearing soldier clothes and they might have been washed poorly…and he too didn’t look like he had a bath recently.

Anyway the real core of the scene is that Sugimoto believed the blood he had shed was still over him, permeating his scent. Like Lady Macbeth believed to have her hands still dirtied in blood, Sugimoto believes he’s still covered in it.

He thinks the Saichi Umeko knew is gone and that even if her eyes were to heal she wouldn’t recognize him. The truth is Sugimoto in that moment was deadly scared to meet Umeko. He was just back for the war and, likely, in poor psychological shape. He wasn’t up for rejection so he tried to escape that meeting.

His search for the gold is, in a way, his search for a way in which he could present himself in front of Umeko, for a way in which he can return home. The poor guy is desperate and I’m really sad for him.

The flashback ends and Sugimoto, who has psychologically healed a bit compared to when he went to Umeko and is probably in desperate need of comfort because leaving Asirpa should have hurt, tries to stop the woman he believes was Umeko, probably also because that woman was apparently a whore, and he feared Umeko had ended up on being forced to sell herself to live.

He feels relief when it turns out the woman is someone else and tells himself there’s no way Umeko would do such thing. Still that meeting fills him with determination. He has to hurry so that Umeko won’t face such fate.

Now… the anime cut this whole piece about Sugimoto and this is a real shame. This was REALLY relevant for Sugimoto’s character in every sense possible as it explored Sugimoto’s past, his trauma, his motivations, his love for Umeko.

Cutting it is like cutting a piece of Sugimoto. In short a BAD CHOICE but the anime seemed to hate Umeko and previously cut another flashback about her and Sugimoto.

Going on with the story Sugimoto met again with the guy who considered selling Asirpa as a whore. He asks him if he knows about something strange happening.

And here we get something peculiar in Golden Kamuy. No one is purely evil here. This guy, who was willing to sell Asirpa, can’t stand to people hurting whores because he had birth and was raised in a brothel therefore report of how, in another brothel owned by a friend of his, a girl was hurt by a customer, and promises Sugimoto a reward if he finds who did the hurting. Yes, he’s talking about Ushiyama because in Golden Kamuy everything that happens is connected one way or another.

As Sugimoto doesn’t seem to find the thing interesting, the guy explains the one who hurt the girl had a strange tattoo.

Now… some of you might think this guy is into the plot to hand Sugimoto to the 7th… but if he were, he wouldn’t have sent Sugimoto to the other brothel but to his own, so he would be the only one to get the reward. So I think he had no idea about the whole thing… and we’ll see later on he genuinely wanted to beat Ushiyama for hurting a girl.

Back to the soba shop that doubled as a brothel in which the girl was hurt Sugimoto is offered a bowl of soba and told to wait for the girl. As Sugimoto wastes time enjoying the soba though, the old lady goes to call the 7th division. Evidently they reported to them how the girl was hurt and they asked to warn them if someone were to ask if someone else were to make question about people with tattoos.

The Nikaidō brothers enter in the shop after the lady alerted the division, asking who was the one who was asking about the tattooed man.

Very, very likely out of instinct, Sugimoto attacks them, sending them both on the ground.

Now…we’re used to cheer for the hero and we know the 7th division being there meant troubles for Sugimoto so we excuse him attacking the Nikaidō brothers which, by now we know, aren’t exactly a nice bunch but… let’s stop for a moment and really look at the scene from another point of view.

Before being attacked the Nikaidō brothers did NOTHING WRONG. They were sent there to question, and possibly arrest, whoever were to ask about a tattooed man but that’s not a crime and, from their side, it’s just obeying to orders.

Sugimoto attacks them without giving them the chance to do anything that would justify the attack, beyond the fact that Sugimoto himself is guilty of Ogata’s injuries and that he indirectly caused the death of four (actually three but Sugimoto doesn’t know Tanigaki is alive) men in the 7th division in addition to how he’s collecting the skins of the tattooed convicts, which can cause him of being suspected of being the one going around killing them.

In short, although Sugimoto is the hero, his reaction is the one of a criminal who’s trying to escape to the police. He knows very little about the 7th, if it’s all corrupted and after the skins or if those guys are actually only doing their work, yet his first reaction is to attack them.

We excuse him because he’s the hero and because we know the 7th… but in truth he’s not acting like a good guy here, but like a criminal hiding from the justice.

Another soldier attack Sugimoto but with no luck. Sugimoto sends him on the ground and, for good measure, smash his nose under his feet… because, when Sugimoto gets attacked he reverts to ‘immortal Sugimoto’ the one who killed Russian soldiers like a beast in order to survive the horrible situation he was in.

However he doesn’t get enough time to fully revert to it as he’s quickly encircled by other soldiers.

One of the Nikaidō brothers tell him to get on his knees (it should be Kōhei as later we’ll learn it was Yōhei who was the one who beat Sugimoto’s face… see chap 17) because if he shoots him while he’s standing he might end up on hitting someone else after he blows Sugimoto’s brain off.

It’s very, very vague but it’s the only hint the Nikaidō brothers, or at least one of them, didn’t want to do unnecessary killing… at least right then.

If I’m right and the one talking is really Kōhei, getting to kill Sugimoto will become an obsession for him, since Sugimoto will kill his brother. Maybe this too played into factor and fed his obsession, the fact if he had killed Sugimoto right now, Sugimoto wouldn’t have had the chance to kill his brother later on.

Sugimoto though doesn’t obey (same as it had happened with Tamai and the others) and the other Nikaidō brother (I’ll assume Yōhei since much later Sugimoto will claim he was the one who hit his face… see chap 17) hits him on the legs, to force him to obey and then starts hitting Sugimoto’s face with his rifle.

You’ve heard me talking about how Sugimoto, due to what happened in the war, tends to lose it when attacked, which explains why such a kind person would have murdered Ogata in cold blood even after Ogata couldn’t harm him any longer.

It doesn’t work only on Sugimoto. The Nikaidō brothers are veterans all the same. After Sugimoto had attacked them they had lost it and won’t be able to see him as any different from an enemy (remember? The 7th too was sent to charge the Russians and suffered heavy losses, we even saw one of the Nikaidō brother running toward the Russians in a flashback) on which they want to extract revenge, though, interesting enough, in different ways.

Although they’re twins, one of them would want just to shoot at him and be done with him (Kōhei), while the other is more interested in inflicting him pain, in beating him up (Yōhei). If his brother hadn’t stopped him by claiming they should just shoot him, Yōhei would have probably continued beating Sugimoto until he had killed him.

What’s relevant though is that the two are so focused in getting their revenge on their new enemy they forgot they weren’t supposed to kill Sugimoto… and this regards not only the Nikaidō brothers but all the other soldiers that were there. None of them said ‘no, wait, Tsurumi didn’t say to kill him, he might be more useful alive’. The moment Sugimoto had attacked he had turned into an enemy. The other might not be so invested in killing him… but they aren’t really looking forward to save him either.

I’ve the feeling in a way the 7th division had it worse than Sugimoto. Sugimoto was released from duty and went through a time of quiet. He wasn’t rewarded as he should have but it was because HE attacked a superior officer.

The 7th wasn’t released from duty. They weren’t rewarded as they should have and were blamed of something that wasn’t their fault in the first place.

Tsurumi involved them in the gold hunt, which translated in them facing Tsuyama, a murderer who had already killed 33 people and managed to murder three men of the 7th division before being finished off by Tsurumi, which hints to how it wasn’t easy at all to kill him… even though he was a single man against more than one soldier. They probably were also the ones that were murdered when the convicts escaped.

They didn’t have a break, Tsurumi fed their anger for how unfair they were handled and, to make matter worse, kept them there, trying to involve them in his rebellion. We know the Nikaidō brothers wanted to rebel to Tsurumi, they likely wanted to go back home.

In short this is a lot of stress to deal and explains why, as Sugimoto will say in the future, they’re still trapped on the battleground.

Goden Kamuy is, in a way, a choral work. You’ve to pay attention to all the characters and their motivations. Many of the enemies are in a situation that’s no better than the heroes… nor they do worse things than the hero. They’re just enemies, like the Russians were for the Japanese… and vice versa.

Anyway the chapter ends with the sound of a shoot… just to lull us in the false belief one of the Nikaidō brothers shoot Sugimoto.

The anime follows the manga faithfully in its transposition of this scene, making the action scene good enough, I might add. There’s no suspance for who caused the sound of the shoot though, as the anime won’t end here but well, likely it’s not like manga readers could believe the shoot killed Sugimoto...

#Golden Kamuy #Sugimoto Saichi #Asirpa #Retar #Nikaidou Kouhei #Nikaidou Youhei #Golden Kamuy ReReading #Kenmochi Umeko #Kenmochi Toraji

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courtorderedcake · 6 years

Text

Riptide 7/13 CSBB

@captainswanbigbang & @captxinswans present:

RIPTIDE by @courtorderedcake Beta’d by the wonderful @ultraluckycatnd

An Enchanted Forest AU where the dark one was never released into the world in a vessel, thus causing a massive shift in timelines. The ogre wars have ravaged kingdoms, untold destruction spanning continents, rulers displaced. Even as the wars sputter to ash, the safest place to be is at sea, and that’s not very safe at all - as Emma and Killian find out, fates intertwined against all odds.

Rated: E/X - heavy content : warnings of assault, rape, noncon, just everything, I feel like the rating says enough. It’s something.

WARNING: READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

Read on Ao3 HERE .

Chapter IX : Shell & Bone

I can be quick and then I'm deadly,

I am a rock, shell and bone medley.

If I was made into a man, I'd make people dream,

I gather in my millions by ocean, sea and stream.

What am I? Sand of course, dear one

- Unknown

Emma woke next to a sudden jostle, Killian tensing above her and words, laughing words that weren’t his. The fuzzy bits of sleep fading, she could hear Killian’s voice now loud above her. “Don’t you dare touch her. I’ll kill every one of you if you touch her -”

Emma’s eyes shot open as Killian’s body was pulled away from her and the warmth of his embrace was gone. Two men were pulling him away, his hand reaching for hers across the floor.

“No!” Emma reached for him, pulling his hand into hers, fighting and kicking the other man who stepped into the space to grab her. “Killian, Killian! Let me go, let me go!” Wailing and reaching for him, his body was pulled behind hers to keep him moving.

“Ain’t it sweet? Keep struggling and I’ll give you a chance to hold your baby.” The man holding her pulled her hair, and she yelped, his other hand squeezing her windpipe.

“Emma, you have to stop struggling love, you’re going to hurt yourself. It’s going to be alright.”

They were both pulled on the wet deck with rain still falling heavily, chilling her again. James stood looking over the docks in front of them as Emma was thrown down, Killian over her protectively a moment later.

“I’ve made two decisions, for the sake of my dear little sister and her unborn.” James smirked down at them as Killian gathered her shaking body close to his. “The first is that you get to say goodbye to your beloved before he hangs. I do follow Navy protocol, after all, so you can say goodbye here and as he hangs.” Emma sobbed into Killian’s chest, both of them holding each other tightly. “And I’ve arranged for you to be delivered to a beautiful holding cell to wait for your bastard to be born. Then off you go to whatever fate I decide, and your bastard goes to a nice home.”

“You will not take my child -”

“See, the thing is dear sister, you’re not exactly in the position to make demands. Or to be a mother,” James sneered. “Now say your goodbyes.”

“Emma, I love you. Look at me love,” Killian kissed her, wiping tears away from her face in earnest. “You have to keep our child, beg them, do whatever you can. Do you understand? Don’t you dare give up, Emma -”

“I won’t but you have to fight them too, please, I know you can figure a way out of this. We have survived everything, everything, Killian. You have to see your child. He can’t grow up without you.”

Killian opened his mouth to say something more, but was stopped by James waving a hand to pull Emma from him, his fingers holding hers until the last second. “I love you, Emma.” She continued reaching for him, and he pulled against the two men holding him, continuing to try and touch her fingers.

James laughed, his continued laughter eventually drowning out Emma’s pleading.

The day he was led out to be hung was exactly ten days after his capture. He’d counted, scratching long groves into the wall of his cell with a spoon, sharpening it to carve Emma’s name and his into the wooden door frame along with a small picture of a swan. Tracing it kept him sane when he imagined he heard her cries or a phantom squall of a baby somewhere in the evenings, his body unwilling to rest.

Off of the coast of King George’s miserable land, Korumpiran, lay the island he sat in now. It was unnamed, just referred to by people who knew what lay on its rocky face as ‘Prisoner’s Keep’. Emma was somewhere in the compound, it was where people the Navy wanted to parade out with pomp to a gaggle of noble watchers were held.

Hanging was a sport, and it needed spectators.

James was in high spirits when they came to fetch him, dressed in his full regalia and grinning. As they climbed the stairs to the deck of the gallows, he whispered gleefully, “Today’s the day!”

Killian grunted.

James’s boots were a shining dark black in the noon sun, in stark contrast with the washed-out boards. As his death necklace was hung around his neck, Killian whispered goodbyes to those who would never hear them. His crew, his few friends, his child, saving the last for Emma.

James stood next to him, no executioner’s cowl to mask his glee. “Do you know what the best part of this is going to be?” James’s eyes glittered with excitement as he whispered, “My deal with you ends when you expire. You’ll have your whore and child with you in hell soon enough!” James laughed, pointing out into the crowd where several naval officers flanked Emma’s body.

Killian struggled in his bonds, trying to get off the stage to her in blind panic. Their audience whispered in confusion as she cried hysterically. James tried to redraw the crowd’s attention, not to be outdone. “I hereby judge the pirate known as Captain Hook as guilty of crimes against the crown...” A wail went up in the crowd, pained as a naval officer started yelling, “...desertion of the Navy, Piracy...” A low moan soon followed, and one of the naval officers ran back into the base, eyes wide. The crowd began to turn and soon, the original crowd was turning towards low keening cries.

The hair on Killian’s neck stood.

Navy officers yelled, and James became angry. “...and stealing a ship from HIs Majesty’s fleet. The punishment shall be death, by hanging. Any last words?” James removed the rag he had stuffed in Killian’s mouth.

“Emma, my wife, please tell me she’s alright. She’s pregnant and I can’t see -” Shouting at the crowd, he struggled, and several women covered their mouths in horror.

It was taboo for any wife to be present for a hanging, as the gentry were prone to swooning. A pregnant woman being forced to stand privy to an act of such violence was beyond cruel, practically sacrilege, and put both her and child at risk. A scream tore through the crowd, and he could see Emma on her back, naval officers holding her as one came back with a cloth. Her mouth was a tight lined grimace. The crowd was booing the hanging now in favor of the poor woman who seemed to be having stress complications. Killian was barely aware of anything else except trying to see what was happening. Officers ran on the platform to help James hold Killian as he fought to get to Emma with every fiber of his being.

Fists landed blows on his face and a boot connected with his ribs until he knelt, bleeding on the platform’s drop door, the first real prayers to any God who’d listen running through his mind. He heard James pull the lever, and closed his eyes, unable to stand the nightmare any longer. The door below him gave way and he fell, time slowing as he heard James yell in fury. Killian’s knees connected with packed ground. The rope had snapped, cut through almost completely.

Killian’s body registered its living state before his brain, scrambling to move as James shouted orders. His blood beat in his ears to the sound of her name, every part of him trying to protect both his child and his wife. A guard caught his arm half way and shoved him, a strange movement that was neither defensive or offensive. Sprawling forward, he noticed a heavy weight in his coat pocket. Reaching in and touching cold metal, he looked up to watch the guards surround Emma and understood.

James shouted more commands as Killian pulled his hook out of his pocket, taking it in his good hand awkwardly without his brace. A few paces ahead of him, he saw Ruby adjust her stolen Naval uniform, sending a signal to however many others had infiltrated, and he realized that the ever clever crew of The Gilded Wing had each put a swan patch under their shoulder stripe.

Killian slashed through an officer with slight difficulty, continuing towards Emma as he watched the infiltrators from The Gilded Wing shed their disguises. Two guards with a swan patch held Emma's hands, kneeling as the crowd surrounding them began to realize that they were caught in the beginning of a blood bath. Men started to scream as Merida, Ruby, Rory, Phillip, Graham, Fa, Regina, Robin, Z, and others he didn’t know began to carve through them.

Finally reaching Emma, he felt life return in full color. Wearing a ridiculous full satin gown, even in labor on dusty cobblestone she took his breath away. He rubbed blood from his face and ignored what was most likely a broken rib. Snow looked at his dumbstruck face with a small knowing smile, as Emma and Belle beamed up at him. He knelt by her side, or more truthfully, dropped to his knees.

“Emma are you? Please tell me you're alright. Seven Hells and the damned -” His wheezing questions were answered with a soft kiss as her hand threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck. She pulled away, motioning a hand to the bodice of her dress and bringing him back to the peril of their situation.

“We're fine. Help me get out of this damned thing before we all wind up dead, because that would be depriving a nice end to my dashing rescue of you. Oh, and take off your shirt.” Emma reached below her skirts and pulled out his extra brace, a cutlass, and her preferred scimitar. He pulled off his coat and shirt as she and Snow struggled to get her out of the gown. Belle stood guard, easily dropping men with a crossbow.

“You know, there's a thousand other ways to get us both naked love,” he grinned. He put on his brace with ease, relishing in the feel of the soft leather and the plush embrace of the fitting for his hook. Snapping buckles tight, he clicked in his hook. With a flourish he ripped the gown, revealing her breeches and tunic below. “When we get back, I'll show you a few of the ways I thought of on the gallows.”

“Gallows humor. That's appropriate,” Snow smirked, as he shrugged his shirt and coat back on. Helping Emma stand, he embraced her tightly.

“I love you, Emma. We'll talk about how mad I am that you are here later,” he whispered into her hair. “If I told you to stay out of trouble you'd never listen, but please be careful.”

Emma smirked, looking up at him. “I'll do my best, Killian.”

Another round of shouts began as another James appeared from the nearby doorway, screaming that the man on the gallows stand was an imposter, a wizard from the Far East.

Anyone from The Gilded Wing would recognize the slightly darker tanned skin, or the top of his ring finger missing on his right hand. But dressed in a captain’s uniform, the Navy became more confused. James sputtered on the gallows stand about his twin brother, while David shouted back towards the crowd. The Gilded Wing members took advantage of the chaos, attacking without mercy.

“Welcome to the party, Hook,” Belle said as she stood, joining the fray with Snow just behind, pulling a bow with quiver from her pant legs.

Killian kissed Emma one more time as they began making their way towards James.

Emma slashed through men easily, avoiding attacks as Killian moved faster, slicing with both hook and sword. Gunpowder filled the air as blood spilt; dying shouts heard over the smell of fire shot from Regina's hands. Robin, Belle, and Snow had taken high perches, shooting targets with keen accuracy. Men ran to get to safety.

Killian reached the platform first, and James backed away as he approached. Parrying back and forth, Killian was surprised that such a coward was actually an adept swordsman. A well aimed kick from James landed squarely in his broken ribs, the crunch and pain throwing him back on his elbows letting out a strangled cry. James raised his weapon high, the sword shining in its cruel metallic glory. Killian turned to Emma and watched her, unwilling to spend his last moments watching James’s sadistic snarl.

A shot rang out, James stepping back and looking at his stomach in surprise. Killian took no chances, digging his hook deep into James’s neck, ripping his face apart in a clean motion. Killian heard the bastard gurgle but threw him down, unwilling to give him any more attention. Looking up, Charming nodded to him over the smoking barrel of a pistol, a calm ripple of understanding coming between the two.

It was done. Men ran in all directions, fires started in several places along the keep, and cannons sounding from what sounded like several ships. Glancing at the smoke drifting off of the towers, he would swear he was hallucinating. Two dragons circled, one dark, massive, and sleek, the other a soft pearl color with somehow more delicate features. They were stunning in their fierceness.

The island was in ruins as nobles cowered, fleeing to ships that sped away from the rubble.

“Killian?” Emma called through the smoke, and he stumbled off of the deck into her embrace. She smiled and let him lean into her body, face pressed against her neck as he took a breath. “You’re heavy. As much as I -”

Rough hands pulled him aside, helping him stand fully. Charming stood next to him, propping him up. He grunted, growling out lowly, “You have legs, lean on someone who isn’t pregnant.”

Killian could feel his ribs throb as they walked along the cobbled path, Charming under his arm letting him lean and Emma by his side trying to keep him talking. His lungs burned, and he was painfully aware that breathing was becoming harder. “How did you manage this?” he coughed, and Emma looked at her brother, then away quickly.

“Will is alive. Belle took him back to The Gilded Wing, and they caught the Jolly on its way here to save us. Regina popped into my cell, letting me know the plan and helped me smuggle the things we needed. Hey, hey. I need you to stay awake.”

“And you tamed dragons in your cell?” Blinking groggily, he shook himself further awake, not realizing his drooping eyelids as his lungs tightened.

“That’s… That’s actually Z, and his, um… Friend? or Lover, I guess?” Emma said unsurely, glancing at David.

“Mal, the blonde woman, new to The Gilded Wing’s crew. Old friend of Regina’s, and a powerful sorceress. Transformed Zorro, your Z, into a dragon for revenge and the spell accidentally hit them both. They can change forms when they’re around each other,” David grumbled.

“You know I think you’re magnificent, Emma. Did you manage a Kraken too?” Emma laughed, moving closer into his side. “Don’t laugh, love. I’m trying to share a moment with you while staving off choking. And you, my dear brother-in-law racing to save me. Now that I wouldn’t have bet on.”

“Never call me that again. Could you focus?” Charming gritted out. “If you died, I’d never hear the end of it from Emma or Snow. And,” he mumbled under his breath, “I cannot be left alone with Scarlet or Robin, who would join you in hell. I can’t be killing crew. That’s, what do you say? Ah, yes. Bad form.”

“Dave, you truly do care,” Killian groaned when Emma gently prodded him gently in the ribs, shooting him a look, but Charming actually gave a forced smile.

“Don’t make me stab you when you have cheated death thrice today, to my sister’s delight.” As they approached the Jolly in full glory next to The Gilded Wing, they were met by a crowd of crew members, Graham taking over for Charming. Before he was completely pulled away, Charming slid an elbow right into where he ached, hard enough to bruise but not to cause any more actual damage. Killian sucked in as much air as he could get through his teeth, trying not to vomit. “And never call me Dave ever again either.”

Emma helped him settle into their bed, helping to ease him down and help make something comfortable for both of them. She’d washed his face, and taken off his bloody clothing, soft touches that reminded him her finger was painfully bare of his ring. Before he could say anything, Regina had come by for more healing and a round of her truly noxious potions made to induce bones to knit together with the added bonus of making a grown man fall back into the mindset of a whiny child.

His lucidity began to fray, and Emma lay next to him quietly, looking over their handiwork on his battered body. “You’re starting to get a little bit magic sloshed. I can see it in your eyes,” Emma giggled. “You always look so intense before you let go and get lost in things.” She reached for his hand, surprised when he moved to kiss her, searching her eyes as they broke away,

“You shouldn’t have been there. If you had been hurt, Emma, I can’t... I couldn’t even watch you pretend to suffer because I thought...” His voice caught, and she held his hand tighter. “No more. Stay off your feet. I know you’ve been hiding how exhausted you are, and I’m worried for you love. I’m worried for our child.”

“I’m ok, I promise,” she lied, and adjusted herself. Wincing, she did not sell her lie.

“No. You’re not.”

“Killian, I -”

“When was the last time you ate and really rested? You were in a cell, probably not much nicer than my own. And your wound? See to it you actually get it cleaned, love,” he sighed, gathering her into his arms. “Of course.” He nuzzled into her neck, his words slurring softly as the potion helped mend his broken bones. “You could just rest with me. Help me get better. Stop me from worrying about the dragon we unintentionally signed on as crew.”

“Of course,” she whispered against his chest, as close as she dared with his broken ribs snug under bandages. “Captain's orders, hm?”

“Quite right.” he sighed.

The sky was a sickly green as rain drizzled over the Jolly, the clouds casting strange shadows through the windows in the Captain’s quarters. Emma still felt uncomfortable on her ship, rather spending her time watching Killian heal and helping out on the Jolly. Her main tasks were easy to fall into, and she enjoyed laying in his arms as his wife.

Married life suited her, although Killian’s boredom did not. He entertained himself by wrapping yarn around his hook as Maggie had taught him as lumpy blankets as soft as clouds littered their bed. He also read, and occasionally sketched her changing form with rapt fascination. She'd begun to truly show, her body suddenly ballooning everywhere as her sickness was replaced by unending hunger.

Killian still not only assured her that she was beautiful, but made it very clear that he enjoyed every bit of what he saw. Every time she left him in the mornings he’d groan, sleepily begging her to stay; either trying to ply her with his words… or other things. “You could lie here with me all day,” his voice said with a low, husky rumble. He stretched his arms around her as she sat on the edge of their bed, and she heard the hiss of pain, even as he tried to hide it. “I’d show you how well I’m healing by licking every inch of you -”

“Killian!” she laughed, as he kissed her neck. “While that’s tempting, and it is oh so very tempting, the ledgers need to be balanced to account for repairs, stock needs to be counted, and you need to rest -” “Do the ledgers here, and I promise I’ll rest,” he nibbled her earlobe and she let out a gasp. “After I taste you. You don’t understand how beautiful you look, Emma.” She pulled away from him, and his face fell.

“Mmmhm, well, we can discuss this more when I bring you lunch.” His face brightened and he licked his lips. “With Mal, for another bout of healing.” He flopped back, with a wheeze, groaning. Emma stood, bending to kiss him, and made her way to the door. “I will do the ledgers here though, to ease your suffering.”

She heard his hum of approval as she walked to the deck. He was healing nicely luckily, and would be better in a matter of days. Emma was grateful to have Regina and this newcomer, Mal, around to work healing magic, even if it wasn’t as powerful as her own. His ribs had set which was a great comfort to Emma. She had been worried with them sleeping together that she’d hurt him somehow. Regina had even suggested he could be on deck but not working as early as the next day, but Emma hadn’t told him in case they were wrong.

It was cool, the rain picking up as Emma stepped on the deck and took in a deep breath. Walking to the railing, she looked over the waves, peering behind them where the Gilded Wing followed. A hand automatically rested on top of her stomach. The child was quiet today to boot, and would be until after breakfast. Although her sickness was blessedly gone, she’d noticed how easily she got winded or tired while working. She’d learned some ways around it; eating a good breakfast, snacking, breaks to sit down, drinking water, and other small tricks. The fresh air was another trick, the sea breeze felt good in her lungs.

Will stepped over to her, handing her a bowl of sweet rice and dried fruit. “Good morning. How’s Jones?”

“A few more days. Unless he does something stupid.” Tipping her bowl, she swallowed greedily. Every meal felt like she hadn’t eaten in days. “What still needs to be done this morning?”

“Jefferson says there’s a storm about to roll in, so we need to tie off some barrels, and move some crates.” He ticked off his fingers, while she continued eating. “There’s some damage to the sails that need to be tied off, and a little damage to the rigging. I think we should be storm ready after that.”

Emma nodded, finishing her meal. “Let’s start.”

They worked tirelessly as a unit as lightning crackled close by and a boom of thunder echoed only slightly to the west. The rain began to pummel them, and Emma started to shiver; her fingers going numb as she tied things off. A tickle ran across her back, and she looked up to see a loose rope dangling. She pulled gently to tie it off on a stable weight. It wouldn’t give so she pulled harder, letting her muscles strain as the wind whipped. She let go, dizzy and winded, her body protesting even standing.

Internally, she began to panic. She hadn’t been working that long, but she was exhausted already? This couldn’t be, and she wouldn’t accept it. She’d push through.

Smee looked at her in concern. “Miss Emma, are you alright?” She nodded and reached for the rope again, numb fingers gripping to pull even harder. This time it gave and she tied it off triumphantly, panting to catch her breath.

She realized something was wrong before she saw black creeping towards the edge of her vision. Turning to stumble towards Smee, she heard his surprised question before darkness took her.

When she blinked her eyes open again, she was laying bundled under far too many blankets by candle light, a cloudless night sky laid outside the open windows wherever they were harbored. Killian sat beside her, gently stroking her hair as he read. She went to ask him what happened, but could only rasp out a questioning noise before coughing.

“Well, my darling, you’ve gotten yourself sick and pushed yourself to fainting, per Regina. She sends her regards, with strict instructions for both of us,” he whispered. Killian smiled at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Emma groaned. “If that’s your apology for scaring us all half to death, it needs some work.”

She coughed, trying to clear her voice. “Sorry.”

“Emma…” A look of concern and tired frustration crossed over his face. “Regina and I talked, and you shouldn’t be doing anything but light labor, if that. We’re concerned for you.”

Emma scoffed, her eyes narrowing. “No, I need to work. I’m not weak -” “No one thinks you’re weak. You’re building life, the farthest thing from it - but this was a close call.”

“I just fainted. It’s not -” Killian’s hand balled into a fist, and he interrupted her, his voice quiet, but filled with worry and anger.

“You were bleeding.” His jaw ticked, and Emma immediately felt her heart sink as she rubbed where she could feel the baby resting, stretched along her entire frame.

“I was…?” Emma saw him soften, and he took her hand. “The baby is alright though, right? Killian, I didn’t mean to -”

“Z carried you in, and somehow got Mal and Regina over here almost immediately. He’d noticed you were bleeding after he picked you up.” He sighed. “Regina said you just strained yourself, and you needed to rest. You need to rest. She thinks… She thinks something might be wrong, and we should get a midwife.”

Emma’s heart froze, panic rising in her tone. “Why would she think that? There’s nothing wrong with him, the baby. You’ve read everything, we’re fine. We’d know if something wasn’t right, wouldn’t we?”

He rubbed her hand, kissing the knuckles he'd just traced. “It’s alright. She just said she was worried. The baby is rather big and your symptoms and swelling have been really severe, that’s all. A midwife is not a bad idea. We should find one just to be safe. There’s one she recommends that is available a few months from now, and another available in a month or so. How about we try the one available sooner and see what she thinks?”

Emma nodded, tracing where she could feel the slightest movements. “Better safe than sorry. I’ll stay on light duty.”

“Good. Never a dull moment around here.” He smiled at her adoringly. “One of us is always down, it seems.”

“Oh, how are you? Did they -”

“I have been told I’m fine besides light bruising.” He laid next to her, putting his book aside. “Which is truly too bad, I had planned to keep you totally and completely enthralled during our bed stay together.”

She laughed, which turned into coughing. “Ugh. I really did get sick.”

“Aye. You were ice cold. I wrapped you in every blanket in here. I thought…” She stopped him with a kiss, pulling him close.

“I’m not going to leave you, I promise. I learned my lesson this time, and I’ll take it slow.” Burying herself in his chest, she could hear his heart race. Emma closed her eyes, letting her entire body relax into his, feeling his warmth through her blankets.

“I love you, even when you’re a stubborn woman intent on shortening my life with fear.”

She yawned, feeling another round of exhaustion settle over her. “You love it.”

“Indeed, Emma, I do.”

#Riptide #CSBB 2018 #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan #Captain Swan Big Bang #Courtorderedcake

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reh-sa · 7 years

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الفرنسية؟: Middle Eastern influence in Vere

So, the thing is, I’m a nerd when it comes to the Middle East. I love the history, culture and aesthetic so much! Now we all know and love our fantasy version of France called Vere, but while I read Captive Prince, I couldn’t help to think that Pacat might have been influenced by the Middle East in her worldbuilding as well. I think it fits incredibly well into the Captive Prince world, so I decided to make a list of the things that drew my attention. I’m by no means an expert and I’m not refering to a specific country’s history here; of course, the “Middle Eastern culture” doesn’t exist, just like there is not a single “European culture”. Instead, I wrote down all the things that reminded me of certain aspects from different Middle Eastern countries.

First, I think the most obvious hint is the fact that “Vere” was originally called “Rabat” in Pacat’s first livejournal version. The real-life Rabat is the name of the capital of Morocco. And fun fact: French is actually the official business and education language in Morocco.

There is also the architecture. This is how Damen describes his first taste of Veretian architecture:

» As for the room, everywhere he looked his eyes were assaulted with ornamentation. The walls were overrun by decoration. The wooden doors were delicate as a screen and carved with a repeated design that included gaps in the wood; [...] The windows were similiar screened. Even the floor tiles were parti-colored and arranged in geometric pattern. Everything gave the impression of patterns within patterns, the twisty creations of the Veretian mind. «

Now, compare that description with pictures of the interiors of famous mosques and palaces. Here are some examples of ornamental walls and tiles, and here of doors and windows (and many more to be found on pinterest!). It really fits Damen’s description well. You will realize very quickly that geometrical starbursts (Laurent’s symbol) are a very popular motif in these patterns, too. There are also the floor baths in Vere, something that wasn’t a thing in France, and the chambers where Laurent’s pets are supposed to reside (if he had any) are literally refered to as “harem”...

As for the culture, the strong seperation between genders is another thing that reminded me of the Middle East, which has been practiced for many centuries and partly even today.

There is a line at the banquet where Damen notices that all of the servants are attractive looking pages. I had to giggle a bit about that, because the Persians were known to choose servants for their looks, to have at least a bit of an eyecandy, as women weren’t allowed to men’s gatherings at all. And speaking of Persians: They were hella gay. They were so gay, that the topic of same-sex love was the favorite kind of poetry in the Persian and later Ottoman Empire (who copied a lot from the Persians). In fact, they considered poetry adressed to a woman to be immodest. And even better: One of the most popular themes was the love to a slave soldier! *wink*

Even though homosexual relationships were officially forbidden, it was something that was rarely pursued. There are many Middle Eastern historical figures that openly had male lovers. In fact, having a male lover was sometimes easier than a relationship with a woman (without being married to her):

In Ottoman society, sexual or erotic relations between men or men and boys were seldom punished, especially if they were carried on in private, and homoerotic relations were in a much less serious class of crimes than illicit sexual contacts with women, which could, in theory, result in death by stoning. (Source)

Sadly, this is an aspect of Middle Eastern history that often gets erased nowadays, but I can recommend this website and this blog if you want to know more! (Also, while it is sad that a lot of these same-sex relationships were pederastic, please note that this wasn’t something exclusive to the Middle East and you could find the same ideals of pederastic love in Ancient Greece and many other cultures.)

In general, a culture based on Persia fits the setting in the Captive Prince world really well for a different reason too: Ancient Greece and Ancient Persia pretty much hated each other, were constantly at war, and liked to refer to each other as “barbarians”.

I’m not too sure if there is an equivalent to Veretian pets, but they did remind me a bit of Turkish Köçek dancers. Here is a quote from wikipedia:

» The youths, often wearing heavy makeup, would curl their hair and wear it in long tresses under a small black or red velvet hat decorated with coins, jewels and gold. [...] They were said to be 'sensuous, attractive, effeminate', and their dancing 'sexually provocative'. Dancers minced and gyrated their hips in slow vertical and horizontal figure eights, rhythmically snapping their fingers and making suggestive gestures. Often acrobatics, tumbling and mock wrestling were part of the act. The köçeks were available sexually, often to the highest bidder, in the passive role. «

Mock wrestling and acrobatics is something we see in Veretian pets too, as well as the extravagant makeup!

As for Veretian fashion, while I don’t know about any laces in ancient and medieval clothing (I think Damen is exaggerating here anyway), Middle Eastern fashion is and was known to be very non-revealing, and often, multiple layers and layers of clothes were worn. Definitely something Damen would hate!

Another hint is Laurent himself. He doesn’t look like a typical Middle Eastern person at all, but don’t forget his mother is a foreigner. As Pacat once said on her twitter, Laurent is supposed to have his mother’s look (the Kemptian side of the family), while on the other hand, Damen comments on how he doesn’t look like his uncle at all (the Veretian side of the family). On top of that, his blond hair was rare enough to recognize him by it. So rare that Laurent’s pursuers simply searched for somebody blond, and so rare he hid by covering up his hair. Or, as Damen put it:

“You stand out in this light. Your mousy hair’s like a beacon.”

The same goes for Ancel: In the “Pet” short story, the Regent refers to his red hair as “exotic” in Vere. It made me question if the Veretian population is really as light as the fandom thinks.

And, last, orientalism was a huge thing in real-life France. With the alliance to the Ottoman Empire, their curiosity raised and French paintings depicting a romantized version of the Middle East sprouted like weed. They fancied the aesthetic so much that the nobles would have themselves potrayed in Turkish clothes! I often have to think of how in the early chapters, Damen is lying stretched out on silken pillows all day, or how he sees a woman smoking a long pipe (a hookah?), holding her beautiful pet...if that isn’t a cliché from an orientalist painting!

So, was Pacat partially inspired by the Middle East when she wrote Vere? Maybe she was, maybe she wasn’t. Maybe I’m seeing ghosts! But I think this whole aesthetic fits Vere incredibly well, if only for Laurent stuffing Turkish delight into his mouth and Damen’s frustration over learning all these ornamental letters…!

#feel free to add!#captive prince #captive prince meta #meta #vere #my stupid chattering

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