Lock and Key
(Arianwen Tabris/Zevran | 2,298 Words | Hurt/Comfort | CW: Blood, brief references to torture and broken bones)
The torture, Zevran thought cynically, truly left something to be desired.
Rather, he seemed to recall—when he’d been a young Crow, there’d been racks, burning oil, things hammered between one’s toes…But this? Breaking his fingers? Slapping him around?
It lacked forethought.
It lacked…panache.
“I do not mean to complain,” Zevran told his torturer, spitting out a mouthful of blood, “But have you done this before?”
“What?” the hooded figure snarled, only their mouth and jaw visible beyond the hood and fabric they were swathed in.
“Mmm,” Zevran said, peering up at them through one swollen eye, “It is only that you are…how shall I say it? Trying too hard, you understand? Most torturers—they adopt a certain style, a way of getting things done, and you seem—”
The figure reared back and kicked him in the chest. His lungs struggled to inflate for a moment, and when they did Zevran coughed convulsively.
“Like that,” he wheezed, while the torturer stomped over to a small table of metal implements, “There is no sense of precision. You might have just stopped my heart, friend, and then where would you be? Luckily for you, I am made of sterner stuff than that.”
“Do you ever stop talking?”
The voice came not from the figure to his left, but from above. It echoed against the far ceiling and the stone walls, spreading until it was almost impossible to tell where it had come from.
Zevran, beaten and breathless, stretched his bloodied mouth into a crooked smile.
“Ah,” he told the hooded figure, “I am terribly sorry for what is about to happen to you.”
The torturer, alarmed, snatched a blade from the table and hurled it into the darkness above the rafters. There was no sound; not the thud of the blade in flesh or wood, nor the sound of metal clattering to the ground. Half a second later, the blade whistled back down, thudding into the flesh of the cloaked figure’s arm.
“Your aim is lacking,” the voice from above said.
“I said precisely the same thing, mi vida,” Zevran said, at long last allowing his head to fall back against the wooden back of the chair he was tied to, “I am sorry to say it, but there is a certain lack of professionalism at play here.”
“You shut up,” she said, and Zevran smiled, “I mean it. The smile, too. Flames, I could kill you.”
“It would not take much doing at the moment,” he told her.
As they spoke, the torturer ripped the blade from their shoulder with a grunt of pain (a bad idea, that; anyone could have told them that it was wiser to leave the thing in place until a healer could take a look at it).
“Show yourself, coward,” the torturer snarled, taking several more blades from the table and staring up at the ceiling. They turned slowly, as if trying to spot the shape of their assailant against the darkness of the ceiling.
If he’d been in a more charitable mood, Zevran might have told them it was pointless.
Indeed, as he thought so, a low laugh came from above, and there was a clatter in the far corner, almost directly behind the torturer. The torturer spun, already throwing a blade toward the source of the noise. As soon as they turned, a cloaked figure dropped from the rafters soundlessly, thrust a dagger into the place where the torturer’s kidney ought to be, and vaulted back up into the ceiling again.
“You know,” she said above him, “I think it’s more cowardly to beat a bound man. But that’s just me.”
A ring of keys fell from the ceiling and into Zevran’s lap. Of course; that was why she hadn’t killed his tormentor outright. She meant for him to do it instead. Balance, retribution; in her way, his Arianwen was all about balance. If he’d had the energy, Zevran would have thanked her for the effort and explained why he wouldn’t be doing that. It was hard to turn a key, after all, when most of one’s fingers were broken.
He didn’t hear her move; he supposed the torturer didn’t, either, because Wen swung down, kicked the large human into the table, and vanished again before the fallen figure could get their bearings again.
Something soft touched his wrist, bound behind him, and Zevran felt a quiet, shuddering breath at his back. She was going to be very cross with him as soon as she took care of their present company; Zevran winced at the thought, then hissed between his teeth when the motion reopened the slice over his eyebrow.
This time, when Arianwen moved away from him, Zevran could hear her; that could only be on purpose. The torturer heard it too, and turned to face her as she cast off the deep blue cloak, variegated with grey and black around the hem. Arianwen stood before him revealed at last, her long braid hanging down her back, her armor blue and silver and gleaming in the light of the brazier. Zevran smiled; it was a fool’s smile, punch-drunk and high from his own relief, but…well. It was just so good to see her. It’d been too long. Too many days without feeling her at in his arms, too many days fighting himself to keep from returning to her side.
“I was going to let him have you,” she said, “Or, if he allowed it, I was going to take my time. Fortunately for you, you’ve made me very, very angry. This’ll be quick.”
The torturer didn’t answer; they bent their head and ran, aiming right for her. Wen didn’t move for a long time—almost too long—and stepped aside at the last moment, exerting precisely as much effort as she needed to get out of the way. It looked, Zevran thought, turning his head as best he could to watch, like she simply floated away from him, like a feather in the breeze. The torturer rammed their injured shoulder into a column and let out a strangled shout.
“Don’t worry,” Wen said to Zevran as she passed, “The building’s empty.”
“There were at least thirty—” he began, and interrupted himself with a cough.
“As I said,” the Warden answered, casually lifting an iron from the fire and striding past, “The building is empty. Don’t worry. I’ll be quick.”
There were sounds that followed her statement, but he could not see their source. He didn’t need to know what she was doing, and he had the sense that not every time he closed his eyes lasted as long as a blink. Likely, that was not a good sign
“Zevran. Look at me, you fool.”
His eye fluttered open—the other seemed stuck shut—and Wen bent before him, her face beatific in its joy. Blood dripped from her ears and clumped in her hair, but she’d wiped her face clean, if the smears along her jaw were any clue. Zevran tried to smile up at her and was mostly successful.
“I knew you would come.”
“You’re an idiot. I don’t know why I put up with you. That letter was—” she wound up the sentence with a sharp click of the teeth instead of any descriptors, but after a moment the blissful look crept back into her eyes.
“Take your health potion like a good boy, hm? And I’ll haul you back to the safe house.”
Zevran might have made a crack about her wording, but as soon as he opened his mouth she pressed the cold glass rim of a vial in between his teeth and tipped it upside-down. The liquid was bitter and cold. Though there was a faint aftertaste of elfroot it was most certainly not a health potion.
“Wen—?” he gasped, and the room faded to black.
|
Arianwen had been angry very often in her life. She enjoyed it, actually. There was a clarity of purpose to rage that most of the rest of life really seemed to lack. It was like…like crossing rooftops on a wire. Rage gave one a single clear path, and if one had the means to follow it things usually turned out alright in the end.
But now—now her old friend turned on her, hounded her steps.
Killing so many had been good enough in the moment, of course, but Zevran had needed to be unconscious for what came next, and she hadn’t wanted to give him the chance to talk her out of it. Now, all she could do was wait; there was nobody left to kill, and Zevran was not awake to argue with. As she paced the room, rage paced with her, shadowing her steps and clouding her concentration.
She crossed the room to open the window now, for the room was more or less empty of personality and furniture save an end table, a bed, and a chair. Zevran slept in the bed, his chest rising and falling easily. Few of his wounds would scar, not that he’d care about such things. He’d gained tattoos since she’d last seen him some…oh, had it been five months already? It felt like years.
This waiting.
Wen braced her hands on the windowsill, her fingers tapping out a staccato rhythm, and then she turned back to the bed.
Maker damn him, she loved the man. She’d kill a dozen times as many for him with pleasure, but seeing him hurt like this was—it was—
“Mi vida,” he murmured to her left, and Wen spun on her heel to look at him, “And here I had thought you were some sort of dream.”
She crossed to the side of the bed, her heart in her throat. She ought to say…she ought to tell him what an idiot he was. She ought to tell him off; she’d certainly thought of doing so enough times. But words escaped her now, and when he lifted his hand from the bed it was to wipe the moisture from her cheek.
“Ah,” he said, wincing when he lifted himself onto one elbow, “No, my Arianwen, no; do not cry for me. I cannot—”
“Why are you trying to get yourself killed?” she asked, and rage took her hand again, gave her the focus to keep talking.
“I am not—” he began, frowning, but she interrupted him.
“When will it be enough, Zev? Do you want to lead the Crows? Kill everyone who hurt you, who bought other kids like you? Do you want to be the King of Antiva? What? Because I can’t keep—can’t keep seeing you like this. If you need help, I will help; if you want me out of your life, then tell me to leave. But I can’t—”
She was crying again—so stupid. She hadn’t cried in years, and certainly never over him. He was staring at her with a sort of stunned horror that she might, if she’d had any sort of composure, have recognized better. It was the same face she was making, after all.
Don’t leave me, she wanted to tell him; as she wanted to tell him every time he disappeared onto a boat. But she’d been too proud to force him into a cage when he wanted the sky, so she’d always turned away instead.
“What do you think I should do?” he asked.
The hand wet with her tears fell away to the sheets of the bed.
For one dizzy, breathless moment, she wished he’d stayed asleep a little longer, given her more time to find the right words. But she…she….
“I want you to marry me,” she said, and it was already too late to take back. His mouth fell open, lips moving as if to speak, but nothing came out.
“Marry me,” she said again, grasping his hand in both of hers, “Tell me you want to live, and you want to live with me. Travel if you have to, but come home again. Live with me; be mine and let me be yours. I want a life, Zevran. I want a life for both of us.”
She searched his face, her heart racing harder than it had killing an entire house full of Crows on her way to her captured lover. Zevran stared at her, and slowly, slowly, a smile wrinkled the space on either side of his eyes.
“Yes.”
Wen blinked and squeezed his hand.
“Yes? You mean that? You’re not just—you aren’t going to take it back?”
“Maker’s pierced navel,” he said, struggling into a sitting position, “You do not believe me? And you were so persuasive, too.”
“No, I—” She clamped her mouth shut again and shook her head, “Yes, Zev?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes, of course, you beautiful murderess.”
She didn’t mean to lunge for him; would’ve thought better of it if she’d had the wherewithal. But all at once she was in his arms, her own wrapped tight around his neck, and both of them rocked back with the force of it.
“I love you,” she said into the salty skin of his neck, and kissed him there for good measure, “I love you. I love you.”
“I love you,” he murmured back, and inhaled sharply, “Ah—I should have known you would say something first.”
“I knew you wouldn’t want to force me,” she told him, but without any heat behind it. Her anger had faded away between one step and the next, gone in a breath and only a memory now.
“If you’d died,” she told him, eyes squeezed shut, breathing him in, “I would’ve killed you.”
His laugh was uneven, a little breathless, and likely that meant she’d need to let go of him soon. But when his words came, they were certain.
“Yes, I know,” Zevran said, “I love you for that, too.”
(For @14daysdalovers day 10: Captured)
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sketch time
you will sit down. you will look at my horrible little women. And You Will Appreciate Them
no this is NOT going under a cut you will see the blood sweat and tears i put into belialah's demon form and you will appreciate it, me, and saskia's off the charts world class monsterfucker status
we got saskia. we're familiar with saskia--or at least you should be. go look at the art by korppipoika and give them so many notes--this post will wait. and while you're out, look at the post about the matriarchs too. and if you're not up to date on saskia and belialah, here's another one for your list. i'll be here when you get back.
up to date? excited? horny? me too!!
so we got those two. in order for the images: saskia (recent), belialah (first draft, still happy with this and haven't been able to capture this vision since)
we got their dynamic:
saskia being a bitch and belialah being, despite everything, head over heels. still can't quite nail belialah's human face, but we're learning
...it took me a long time to nail down belialah's demon form. it went through a lot of drafts---many of which i am not sharing. this one is the oldest one i'm willing to share:
i believe this is draft 3? patch notes from earlier drafts: 4 fingers instead of three, took out "humanoid" eyes, added floaty halo bits. other than that, this is what it's mostly stayed true to. chase gave me an inspo and i remixed it and made it worse because i love body horror. so we have this! extra joint between the wrist and elbow, loads and loads of eyes, sharp teeth (yum!), wings, and a broken halo plus the big horn. love her. she has spider legs below her waist--she has "skirts" that are made from her skin that she usually wears (has?) over them.
made some eensy sketches for ideas:
i tinkered on size, proportion, posture, etc. it's vague, but not exact for either of them. i want a bigger height difference and this is for me first and foremost
i settled on this body type for saskia:
no nipples so she's not naked :) this is for anatomy reference, tumblr. ANATOMY. be so nice to me ;-;
ignore the stuff at the edges, this is part of a larger project idk if i'll finish where i look at all the matriarchs and their body types. saskia is the most...well, besides ethalind, the most hourglass shape. this is the most recent drawing of her i have besides the one at the very end, this is the one i would say is most canon. hence why it is included--the last one i have doesn't quite hit right for me. still working on consistency.
as i improved my art, i wanted to take another stab at belialah. which meant figuring out her lower half.
i did these ones reeaaally recently. i looked at so many things for inspo: crabs, spiders, human pelvises, centaur speculative biology, drider speculative biology, an introspective look at how much of a monsterfucker i am, etc. until i found something i was happy with. these are within the last few days. the lil sketches at the far bottom right of the first page are what i settled on. after that, i tinkered with how she looks with skirts vs no skirts---ignore the sword, it's no longer accurate to what it actually looks like, but that's endgame shit and no spoilers :)
i'm really happy with how she's turned out and i think she's kickass and awesome and i can't wait to beat her and saskia into the ground.
and then we have:
team gaslight gatekeep girlboss :)
i drew this last night!! really happy with how my art is coming along. i hesitated on whether to draw the skirts, because i think the spider legs are so fucking cool and i know logically the skirts are there but tbh its funner drawing the spider legs than the skirts :(
i want to make it very clear: belialah is submissive in the way a guard dog is submissive, to quote a post i once tagged as gilt and lost. belialah is loyal, devoted, willing to protect--but will wait for an order before acting
btw, to make something else clear: saskia? saw the demon form first. is more attracted to the demon form than the human form. is far more willing to smash with belialah in demon form. i love my weirdest little freak of a woman <3
ok that's all bye
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here's a... ship? trope? Thing. that I don't 100% get but find fascinating. full respect for folks out ther making art and content, and generally engaging in this... genre. trope.
【和尚的爱情】 [The Romantic Love of Monks]
Monks. The Chinese Buddhism flavor of monks, where they shave off all hair, denounce worldly possessions and family ties, and join a monastery. Specifically, these guys are committed to celibacy. Yeah on a logical level I'm like yeah, ok, this is a particular flavor of star-crossed lovers trope. But, I still, I.. it's too wacky funny to me. I.. I can't with the shiny cue-ball heads, PLEASE.
and there's. so much gorgeous art created. for this. uh genre? (Unfortunately it's typically m monk x f lead, and my limited exposure has yet to bring monk-flavored BL to my attention. I'm 100% certain it exists out there though.)
Anyway here's some popular media renditions of this, er, genre-trope. Please pray for my soul as I descend:
From Journey to the West, Tang Monk/Queen of the Kingdom of Women (西游记 - 唐僧/女儿国国王) (my rating: famous and classic, but there's something off about every rendition I've seen)
the 3rd installment of the HK Monkey King film series basically circles around shipping 唐三藏 with 女儿国国王. The Chinese movie title is 西游记:女儿国. There's some re-imagining/writing revisions from the source material, Journey to the West. The AMVs are spicy and the music is fire, and holy heck does the script/director want them to get together. The movie is corny, 孙悟空 is downright unhinged, the cg parts are too much, the pacing/tone is all over the place... a lot of this movie is weird. It's got mixed reviews but all the youtube comments love it idk.
ok but also... that second poster/playbill 💀🤣 (the text at the top is a pun on 好运来 -> 好孕来) (to explain: the mpreg is canon in the og jttw, if you drink the waters from 母亲河 you get pregnant. That concept gave me nightmares as a child.)
and here's a wonderful cover/mix by JJ Lin. The original song 女儿情 appears in 1986 Journey to the West :
the song is POV the Queen of the Kingdom of Women in full pining mode for Tang monk. And the mix-insert of 菊花台? Seamless lyric inclusion. chef's kiss. I think someone else singing an arrangement based off of JJ's made it into the 女儿国 movie mentioned earlier.
2. Green Snake/Fahai (青蛇/法海) (my rating: based)
There's the recurring retelling insisting on pairing Green Snake with the Fahai, the Buddhist monk that traps her sister White Snake in the pagoda in the traditional telling of 白蛇传. Here's a fan AMV on youtube & a fan AMV on bilibili. Both take clips are from the 1993 HK movie 青蛇. Honestly? This is the ship I endorse the most and have the least issues with (love 妖x人/妖x仙 dynamics but also in some retellings 法海 is also 妖). Regardless, the 1993 film is a masterpiece, I wholeheartedly recommend a watch (and in Canto if you can find the original audio. I don't like the mandarin dub's audio mixing).
3. Faithful to Buddha, Faithful to You (不负如来不负卿). (my rating: cursed) UMMM this one is wonky with age and time travel making it questionably problematic so uh, you're warned.
This story started off as a webnovel and later got a live action series (afaik live action isn't finished?). For some unknown reason I watched it when the first season was airing... and... Forget that whole "getting together with a sworn-to-celibacy monk" thing being taboo, now we're time traveling and meeting said monk when he's 13 to become his tutor, and a few months later in your time, you time travel again to when he's 26. (FMC doesn't have feelings for him until she meets him when he's an adult but. Girl. This is still too weird okay?)
4. 少林降魔 Vanquishing the Demon (2020) (my rating: spicy [purely based on seeing an AMV])
this movie is solidly xianxia, and it looks pretty enough I'll watch it eventually. But, waow, this AMV clip. I think it made me understand how this genre!trope fits solidly into hopeless romantic/star-crossed lovers territory.
I'm probably missing a bunch of other pieces of media there's a looot of AMVs with clips from either CG donghua or video game cinematics but UM yeah hello. I didn't know this was such a thing. I'm not explicitly out there searching for BL monks okay *old man hacking cough* but I hadn't really found any... yet. The end result of my dive is... I guess I now find monks just a little sexier now, FML
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