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thetomorrowshow · 2 years

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tiger

empires superpowers au masterlist

this is a dark one sorry :( it hearkens back to the heavy angst of the main fic, so do what you will with that. i've put the entire fic under the cut just bc i'm a bit more nervous about this kind of thing atm.

cw: dehumanization, food, abuse, starvation tactics, treatment of a human as an animal (typical of the main fic)

this story takes place during jimmy's captivity.

The first time it happens, Jimmy’s still new to this whole thing.

He’s being good. He’s quietly kneeling under the table, his head pounding and a bad taste in his mouth. He’d been in the observation room for the past however-long, and even though he hates this meeting room, it’s nice to have a change of scenery.

Xornoth is there, of course, not touching him but instead eating something—dinner, probably, from the smell. Jimmy hates it when Xornoth eats in front of him. They know exactly what they’re doing, they know how little he’s fed. But he doesn’t say anything. He hasn’t spoken in so long, he’s not even sure he’d remember how.

He doesn’t need to speak, though, as his body takes care of that for him. It’s some type of steak or something, he can tell, and the smell of it is so mouthwatering that his stomach can’t help but cry out in a desperate attempt to get its owner’s attention. It gets more than just Jimmy’s attention, though.

Xornoth stills, looks down at him. Jimmy keeps his eyes on the ground, cheeks burning. He’s going to be in trouble now, isn’t he? It seems like everything he does is a death sentence these days. What’s it going to be today? The whip? The tentacles? Just a good old punch to the jaw?

Xornoth, however, doesn’t even seem all that perturbed. Their smile turns vicious and they dab at their blackened lips with a napkin before speaking.

“Are you wanting to be fed?”

He doesn’t nod. He won’t give his captor the satisfaction. Xornoth only sighs, then with one gloved hand, plucks a bite-sized piece of steak from their plate. They wave it slowly in front of Jimmy.

And Jimmy really wants that steak. He’s not sure how long he’s been here—he was kidnapped in August, he knows October has passed, too long too long too long—but the best thing that he’s eaten in all those months has been an orange. He’s mostly been surviving off of peanut butter sandwiches with the occasional bruised apple thrown in. Perfectly cooked and seasoned steak, tantalizingly held in front of him, ready for him to take? It’s the first glimpse of proper food after forty years of manna.

“Beg for it,” Xornoth tells him, and all his hope flies out the window.

He’s not going to beg. He hasn’t sunk that low. He’s not going to die of starvation, so he’s fine with what he’s got. He gives a little shake of his head, turns his eyes to the floor.

Luckily, Xornoth doesn’t argue. They tsk, but turn back to their meal.

He doesn’t really have anything to be angry about (he has lots to be angry about, he reminds himself, he can’t forget that), but it irks him anyways. He’d somehow held onto the hope that even through refusal, Xornoth would allow him at least a taste of the food.

But soon enough, Xornoth is done, knife and fork clinking against the plate as they set them down. They pat Jimmy on the head one more time, then rise and leave the room.

That’s usually when a handful of guards arrive to unchain him and take him back to his cell, but as Jimmy waits, nothing happens. After hours of kneeling on the floor alone, he finally dares to move, shifting his legs so that he can stretch out a little bit.

Xornoth doesn’t return.

Xornoth doesn’t return for a long time.

When they’re back, Jimmy’s started shaking so badly he can’t make himself stop. He hasn’t had food or water in too long—his internal clock is so screwed that it could have been one day or three and he wouldn’t have any clue—but it’s too long and he can hardly see straight.

Xornoth doesn’t acknowledge it, just sits in their chair and works quietly, not even petting Jimmy’s hair. Not that he doesn’t appreciate the lack of the awful touch, but it’s as if Xornoth hasn’t taken any notice of his condition and he needs food. Xornoth is his best chance at getting it and they won’t even look at him.

Time is hazy in its passing, so Jimmy’s not sure how long it’s been before someone brings in a meal for Xornoth. It smells sickeningly heavenly, entirely indiscernible but desirable, and Jimmy can’t help that his dry mouth attempts to produce saliva. He hates this. He just wants to go home.

There’s a couple of minutes of the sound of silverware against a plate, then there’s a hand in his face. A hand with, pinched between its fingers, a chunk of seasoned potato.

“So hungry, aren’t you?” Xornoth murmurs. “Beg for it, pet.”

Jimmy’s cheeks burn. This is another one of their games, isn’t it? Starve him until he can’t help but obey. He hates it. He hates Xornoth, he hates everything about this place. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to!

His body is starving, though. He needs to try and get his strength up. He can cause accidents on purpose, now. He can escape. When he’s out of here, this moment of humiliation will be buried and forgotten.

Slowly, haltingly, he bows his head, further and further until he’s almost lying prostrate. He nudges his nose up against Xornoth’s boot, hoping to convey his . . . submission, he supposes, as bad a taste as the word leaves in his mouth.

A click of their tongue. “Come now, darling. Beg.”

He can’t talk. Xornoth knows he can’t talk.

It’s even more mortifying than anything else so far, but Jimmy is desperate for food. He needs something, anything. He can feel that he’s going to collapse soon. He just has to survive, and survive by any means necessary.

He can’t speak, but he lets out a whine. He whines, nudges at Xornoth’s leg, gives them the most pleading look he can muster without vomiting out of disgust.

Xornoth smiles, a cruel, sharp thing. “Close, pet. We’ll work on it. Here.”

With that, they drop the chunk of potato on the floor.

It could be a trick. He could go to eat it, only to have his fingers stomped on. But he’s just too hungry to care.

He scoops it up with both hands, fingers shaking too badly to properly pick it up, and, with one more glance at Xornoth, shoves it into his mouth.

It’s so very salty that he nearly chokes, but it’s too good to lose—the rest of the seasonings are so good they make his stomach turn, he’s so hungry, so he swallows it quickly without savoring to try and fill that hole in his stomach a little bit quicker.

Then he waits, licking his lips to catch any last vestiges of flavor, to see if Xornoth will offer him any more.

They drop a small piece of pork eventually, which Jimmy again grabs and shoves into his mouth. He freezes, mid-chewing, as Xornoth takes his hands and examines his fingers. Their face settles into a frown.

“We’ll work on that, as well,” they say, dropping his hands. “In the future, you are to only pick up the food I give you with your mouth.”

Well, if that isn’t just the cherry on top?

There’s nothing he can do to change their mind, though. He’s here to survive, not to be comfortable.

He needs to get out of here, and soon. He’s not sure how long he’ll be able to take eating food off the floor like an animal.

Hopefully, he’ll be out before it comes to that.

Graceffa finds it strange, they can tell.

Xornoth cuts the gristle from their meat, holds it at their lap. Their pet eats it from their fingers, lips brushing their gloved hand briefly.

He’s becoming so well trained.

“Why do you do that?” Graceffa asks suddenly. “I mean, it’s kinky, but I thought he wasn’t part of that?”

They don’t answer immediately, taking a moment to wipe the grease from their leather glove onto their pet’s cheek. “Tell me, Graceffa, have you ever known anyone who privately owns a tiger?” they ask once their glove is clean.

Graceffa nods.

“Those owners often use the dangerous beasts as a spectacle,” Xornoth continues, still gazing down at their pet. “They swim with them, hand-feed them, beat them—all to show that they’ve become master of one of the most formidable animals in the world.”

Their little bird isn’t listening—or if he is, he isn’t comprehending. The look in his eyes is far away, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shorts.

“Pet,” they say softly, and their pet’s attention snaps to them. They jerk their head to the side. “Beg our guest for scraps.”

He nods and crawls under the table until he reaches Graceffa’s leg, nudges against his knee. “Please, sir,” he rasps, voice almost a whisper. “May I have your scraps?”

Graceffa meets their eyes, lips spreading into a slow smile. “I see,” he says lowly, picking a string of fat from the pork on his plate. Under the table, their pet licks it from his fingers, swallowing without even chewing first. He starts to shuffle back, only for Xornoth to kick him sharply in the bony thigh. Their pet cowers.

“Thank him,” they admonish. Their pet swallows several more times.

“Thank you, sir,” he manages. Graceffa laughs shrilly; their pet starts at the sound and scoots back toward Xornoth, pressing himself close to their legs.

Coming back to them for comfort and safety. Exactly as they want it.

Their hand comes to rest in his hair, and they feel him relax slightly under their touch. Graceffa continues speaking, but they don’t pay much attention. They have plans for their pet after this.

There will be blood on this table tonight.

#empires smp #esmp #empires smp fanfic #jimmy solidarity #empires superpowers au #esh au #mas writes #for the first time ever i feel kinda nervous about maintagging #i have a strict always maintag rule #mostly for filtering on my own blog #or so my followers not interested in x smp or x character can block the tag and properly block my stuff #but with all the twitter drama atm. idk i feel a bit cautious #if this is the first fic you've seen from me: hi!#this au atm is mostly about superpowered flower husbands as they recover from trauma #this part in particular is just a brief flashback in time to jimmy's abuse #if you want one of my more palatable series i can recommend 'trust au' or 'hubris killed the god'#or just about any of my standalone one-shots are fairly chill #i tag all my writing with 'mas writes' if you're interested in something not. this.#anyway to my usual readers: sorry abt this one besties. i SWEAR there's fluffy ones in there somewhere #lmk what you think!#love you guys

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heylabodega · 7 years

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Books Read, Age 26

Previously: 25, 24, 23, 22, 21, 20, 19, 18 (holy shit)

Enigma Variations–Aciman I talked to Robbie about this one a bunch bc he’s always looking for good novels about gay people by gay people and I thought this might be that but this is…not that. It had promise and the first section is really kind of lovely but it veers off and just…I don’t know, mileage will vary, but it didn’t feel True to me. idk idk either like he misunderstands love and sexuality or I do and it honestly could more than likely be me.

A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy–Adams One of those books I had just always kinda pretended I read. I mean not that people like frequently check to make sure I’ve read AHGttG but just like in my mind whenever it was mentioned I checked it off. You know the dealio you don’t need my thoughts on it (as opposed to most things, on which you definitely do).

All Grown Up–Attenberg My favorite of the Attenberg novels I’ve read. Of particular use and relevance to me, an aging single woman and unlikeable protagonist. I enjoyed this very much, it was sharp and warm and mean and tender.

Queen of the Night–Chee Hmm. Ok. I felt for most of this book that it like…thought it was a different, more important book than it actually was? It is overwritten–both in prose style and in that it could have been at least 100 pages shorter–and you know how sometimes you read a book with a female protagonist and you’re like ‘I can’t believe a man wrote this!’? Yeah this isn’t that. But the ending line is really good? idk. Someone else read it and tell me your thoughts.

Too Much and Not the Mood–Chew-Bose First of all, excellent title. These essays reminded me, and I mean in this in the lease self-important way possible, of my own writing. Just in that way where writing doesn’t have to be traditionally literarily linear. These essays are good and filled with the kind of sentences that make you know the writer loves words, you can feel her placing them carefully with the satisfying click of scrabble tiles, sliding them into the right order.

Who Killed Roger Ackroyd–Christie Typical Agatha novel and very good. I can’t tell you any more without spoiling it.

Murder in Retrospect–Christie This is one of my fave Christie’s. It was dark and smart and pithy.

Rule Britannia–Du Maurier I found this in a used bookstore in Portland, Maine, just after the Brexit vote. She wrote it in like the 70s and it’s speculative fiction based on if the UK left the EU and formed a union with the United States. It’s kind of really good but it also ends kind of abruptly, like maybe it could have been the first of a trilogy or something.

Plum Bun–Fauset This was my favorite book from my Harlem Renaissance class. I wrote my term paper on it. I love this book. I want to write it as a screenplay and someone to make it into a movie and I want Troian Bellesario to play the lead.

A Coney Island of the Mind–Ferlinghetti A book of (I think?) beat poetry that I found in a used bookstore in Saugherties at Thanksgiving. I love these poems, especially one called “The World is a Beautiful Place” which I read out loud to Robbie one night while we were walking between bars in the snow at like midnight.

Wishful Drinking–Fisher Carrie Fisher is one of those people whose very existence makes me feel braver and weirder and funnier. She’s a truly good soul and I don’t have anything else to say except that you should read this and also that you should Postcards From the Edge first it’s better.

Difficult Women–Gay I prefer Roxane Gay’s fiction to her nonfiction and these are very good, very interesting stories full of sadness and love.

The Autobiography of Malcolm X (as told to Alex Haley) I have never had so many people approach me while reading a book in public as this one. It is, unsurprisingly, an extremely compelling and upsetting book. But I was very surprised by it. I’m not sure quite what I expected from it, but it wasn’t what it was. I think about this book at least twice a week. I think everyone should read it and I think they’ll all enjoy it.

How To Be A Person In the World–Havrilesky I think maybe Ask Polly columns are better in smaller doses than a whole book, but nevertheless, for better or for worse, she shaped a great deal of my early-twenties self esteem and the essays translate to the page much better than a lot of internet writing I’ve read.

Girl on the Train–Hawkins This felt…cheap somehow. Like I got really into it and then felt like I’d been cheated or fooled because it’s truly not very good.

Bright Lines–Islam This is a fascinating book. It’s the most Brooklyn summery, felt the most like my Brooklyn summers despite describing a Bengali Muslim family and smoking weed and other experiences that are not specifically mine. I’d recommend it. Highly.

Intimations–Kleeman Man, I’ve recommended this book of short stories to so many people. It’s weird and interesting and it does something I think is hard, which is write surreal stories where the stakes still feel real, if that makes sense. She came and spoke to our class and she told an interesting question to ask of short stories which was, “what are the satisfactions of this story?” and all of these are satisfying and visceral. There’s one long one in the middle that I skipped and you can too, I give you permission.

A Swiftly Tilting Planet–L'Engle Hey, um, you know what’s p upsetting to read? A plot where a crazy dictator is gonna drop a nuclear bomb and start the end of the world (this isn’t a spoiler it’s introduced like five pages in).

A Wind in the Door–L'Engle This was not as good as A Wrinkle in Time–what is–but it was a bright easy read, her books are so–loving, I guess. Good if you need a little palate cleanser.

Passing–Larsen We read a LOT of books in my Harlem Renaissance course. This a very good, short novel about, well, guess. It’s like a painting somehow, like a 20th century painting.

Sister Outsider–Lorde I have taken none women’s studies courses so this was a pretty important text I had never read. It is very Good and everyone should read it if they have not already.

Cruel Shoes–Martin I LOVE Steve Martin and still on a few of these I was like “I don’t know, Steve.” But many others (they’re very short stories) are funny or clever or great.

Bright Lights, Big City–McInerney ughhhhhhh a book that is entirely written in second person and is about how womens’ existences and deaths have like ~made a man feel~ but it’s a short quick read and–I am E X T R E M E L Y reluctant to admit–the end is a really good image that did lowkey make me cry but also fuck this book

The Hopeful–O'Neill This I didn’t like much, in a way that I thought it needed a stronger editor and I want Eleanor or Robbie or someone I trust to read it to tell me if I’m wrong.

The Bed Moved–Schiff Weird and good little stories. I don’t think about them often, but they were elegant and sharp as I read them.

Eligible–Sittenfield It’s nice that they’re publishing Modern AU Pride and Prejudice fanfic now in a bound book. This was enjoyable tho tbh not the best Modern AU Pride and Prejudice fanfic I, a cool and chill person, have read in my life.

Swing Time–Smith I think this is my fave of the Zadie Smith books I’ve read. I wasn’t sure by the end quite what the point of it was, but I guess also what’s the point of anything? idk this is a useless description of a book. It was immersive and interesting but I’ve also not told anyone “you *have* to read this you’ll love it.” We did go see her read from it and in person she is enchanting.

The New Woman–Sochen Nonfiction about what I think we’d call first-wave feminism? It was really fascinating about an era I knew nothing about but also had some, um, glaring omissions ahem any mention of race whatsoever.

Action. A Book About Sex–Spiegel Ok look yes fine I am an adult sexually active woman who still reads books about sex whatEVER. I missed sex-ed and I also like to hear, in a non-prurient (or sometimes prurient w/e) way what other people are up to, sex-wise. I mean there’s no real like advice about sex in the world, I think, except that everything consensual and fun is fine, but I think it’s important to occasionally remind yourself of that. This was a good book.

Missing, Presumed–Steiner A crime book that I neither loved nor hated and generally enjoyed reading. Big enh.

The Girls From Corona Del Mar–Thorpe Robbie gave this to me for my birthday last year. A beach read with an edge, page-turner-y but sharp. Seems like it’s going to be a light read, but there’s a bite to it, a reminder of the cruel randomness of fate and of our inability to really know other people or ourselves. I loved this.

Cane–Toomer So this is an important text from the Harlem Renaissance and it’s kinda…never classified? It’s a series of related but not continuous short stories, as well as poetry, and little like plays? idk it’s very evocative and beautiful and dense and bears up to intense overreading. One of my favorite books I read for my Harlem Ren class.

The Blacker the Berry–Thurman Ok so Wallace Thurman apparently worried his whole life that his writing style was too journalistic and he maybe wasn’t…wrong. This is NOT a bad book and it’s well written and novelistic exCEPT when sometimes it feels pedagogical or expository. It’s a short, well constructed novel about colorism and worth checking out.

Killer–Walters Lovely and weird poems. I went to go follow the author on Twitter and discovered I already was. I love these.

The Underground Railroad–Whitehead An extremely. upsetting. book. Here’s the thing and I understand the presumption of my criticism of a book that won the national book award, but: if you’re going to make your conceit that the Underground Railroad is a real railroad, I think that you should do more with it. THAT SAID the rest of this is truly wonderful, somehow at once a page turner and viscerally upsetting.

Kiss Me Like a Stranger–Wilder I love Gene Wilder. I’d read Gilda Radnor’s memoir a couple years ago so part of this was sort of an interesting other side of the story. Anyways he seems like a genuinely strange, slightly neurotic, flawed but mostly warm and kind person.

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orionredstarr · 7 years

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SPARRABETH CHRONICLES #32

We are a club of die-hard Sparrabeth fan fiction readers and authors who simply love this fandom. Every other week we will continue to present our selection of vintage, Sparrabeth fanfiction. We each have our own style, taste, and various interpretations—but one thread we all have in common is that we love Jack Sparrow and Elizabeth Swann as a dynamic team! So far, we have made it through THIRTY-TWO weeks and going strong! So, we hope you are enjoying the tales we select, and having a great time discovering a new story every other week….as much as we love bringing them to you! Feel free to let us know how we are doing, of if you have any suggestions! Also, if you would like to join us, please drop anyone of us a line here at Tumblr! @apirateslifeforme123, @princesspenelopenerfherder, @colorblindly, or me @orionredstarr. The ONLY prerequisite is that you love Sparrabeth―that is it!

THIS WEEK OF February 1, 2017 We would like to present to you:

TITLE: 14 short fics/vignettes - starting with: Desiderata – What’s Past Is Prologue

AUTHOR: Djarum99 (on LJ) or here at Tumbler @thesandreckoner

PAIRING: Jack Sparrow/Elizabeth Swann

GENRE: M-F

Author’s RATING: N-17 (each segment rated)

LOCATION: LIVE JOURNAL (navigating chapters click on WHAT COMES AFTER for next page)

LINK: http://djarum99.livejournal.com/3803.html#cutid1/

Chapters: 14 vignettes/fics interrelated/standalone Author’s DISCLAIMER: owned by the mouse in the concrete jungle, but they live in our hearts

A/N: Post-AWE erotica, set after the events of Fiat Lux (posted at my journal) but reads as a stand-alone, Jack’s POV. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ CRITIQUE on "Desiderata – What’s Past is Prologue": WHY I selected this piece:

I have read just about everything Djarum99 / @thesandreckoner has ever written on Sparrabeth! Naturally, I admit to being prejudiced because I admire her skill and love her stories! I am positive that her chronicles will be exciting and contagious for you too! There is a raw genius to her craft; translated through spot-on characterizations, exclusive literary style and structure, and her intriguing plots. I love the sensuality too, the chemistry and spice which Jack and Elizabeth’s portrayals are so tangible, they become very real people in every sense.

I admire Djarum99’s pacing as well. Even the pictographic palate of each story is amazing. For instance, this series or block of ‘fics’ can be read as standalone literary pieces—or strung together as chapters within one longer fiction. I loved that concept instantly! Not only because it was unique and imaginative, but each vignette, chapter or story, has its own ‘flavor’ or ‘hue’. They are all immensely lyrical, and quite often the ornamentation of written passages morph into beautiful poetry! I am not sure if that was done intentionally, or if that was one of muse’s mysterious gifts which came naturally to Djarum99/ @thesandreckoner for being a truly talented artist! I must ask her! These scenes are painted so lavishly that you can vividly ‘see’ them. Superb dexterity in writing skill and magical story telling…delightful fun

Here in this instance, no matter your perception of length with these “stories” or “vignettes”—some people may view these as individual short stories, or one long Fanfiction. It makes no difference what your preference is, because each chapter is condensed; chock-full of different nuances so they will read quickly. As you become drawn in and vested, a bizarre quirk takes place….you are compelled to devour them all to the point of wanting more! So, no matter your choice—read a few or read all, they are ingeniously fashioned so that you come out a winner either way!

Whichever way you tackle these chapters/vignettes, I grant you this; all are teaming with sentiment, emotion, and all the Sparrabeth ‘feels’ we love and crave! These are shrewd anecdotes woven together for boundless entertainment and presented with panache! And as always, Djarum99/ @thesandreckoner is an author who has a flair for sensual script that is just outright enchanting, provocative and robust! Each segment is rated for content, and not recommended for the faint hearted or very young. Please keep that fact in mind before proceeding! ��

A short tease or EXCERPT FROM Desiderata – What’s Past Is Prologue

He watches her in sleep, a guilty pastime made an irony in light of what they do together in waking hours. Midnight gives her silver, touching the curves of her face and the joy of her body with moth’s wings. Dawn gives her gold, outlining his love with the spare delicacy of a monk’s illuminating hand. He breathes her in, the scent she has brought to his bed, wanting to draw her spirit into his lungs, hold it for a moment, release his own to her.

Jack Sparrow has a mandate, an obligation, the word a foreign taste on his tongue and a sound like giddy angel’s song in his ears. He wants this woman to experience life as he knows it, draw her into its swirling sea of sensation and discovery. Wants her to defy reality as convention paints it, see beyond the surface, walk with him into new worlds. Wants to know what she sees there, what new doors she can reveal to him. He wants to be her guide, follow where she leads, know who he will be, with her.

He remembers the first time she put her hands on him. No longer a sheltered girl’s porcelain, but a woman’s strong brown instruments, playing over his skin and making something new of the runes life has drawn there. Remembers the first taste of her on his fingers, sea salt and sweet sunlight, remembers his mouth at her breast seeking redemption. The strength of her surrounding him, magic heat and the promise of creating a mystery that was the sum of them both, and more than that. She had laughed, holding him in those hands, circling him, stroking, teasing him with her own anticipation and delight. Elizabeth, his Lizzie, pirate empress, his equal and novitiate. The weeks since she had spoken her choice, come to his bed, had been a revelation of both her naiveté and her boldness. Somewhere in between lay trust of him, of what they were together, a treasure he’d never thought to hold. He was not yet certain he deserved it.

To be continued………

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ I have listed them all separately below in sequence, just in case the Live Journal website format is too daunting to navigate. It can be a challenge due to its diary-type layout.

14 Short fics, set in the post-AWE AU universe of Fiat Lux and A Priori

LINKS to ENTIRE LISTING OF individual FICs / Chapters (hope all ‘took’)

Desiderata

Chiaroscuro

Practical Magic

Elegy

Vexed

Bordello

Vector

Archangel

Coda

Rain

Dance

Madeira

The Sand Reckoner

Memento Mori

So, there you have them—above are links to all 14 fics in the series! I do hope you will enjoy them as much as I have.

ORS

And do not forget @bybyeblackbird incomparable SPARRABETH FANFICTION ARCHIVE, a website created to organize all your Sparrabeth Fanfic needs in one place!

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