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peotego · 21 days

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Unconditionally | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x fem!Black!reader

Summary: Three times when you realised you are in love with your brother’s best friend and one time when it all suddenly made sense.

Warnings: some swear words, my English? (since it’s not my first language)

Words: 4k

Masterlist

James' POV

*~*~*

Whenever I tried to think back to the time when it all started, I couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment when I realised I loved James Potter.

He was my brother’s best friend, for Merlin’s sake!

I remember I hated him when we first met. Maybe it was because he was a Potter and my father told us to never befriend a Potter? I was, after all, a daddy’s girl at that time. Sirius loved the idea of going against our father’s orders but me? Not really. I was a good girl.

I stopped being the favourite child of the Black family when I was sorted to Gryffindor alongside my twin brother. It caused a lot of arguing back at home. Sirius was proud to be a Gryffindor. Me? Not so much. Imagine being the favourite child spoiled with compliments only to become a black sheep. I couldn’t bear it. But maybe it was good because it helped me to bond with my brother more? I was even more furious when Regulus was sorted to Slytherin the year after that and took my rightful place on the pedestal. Finally, I understood how my brothers have always felt.

At that time Sirius was a great friend. He helped me get through all the bad feelings I had about myself for something that wasn’t really my fault. Finally, I was okay with all that had happened.

But back to James Potter. The thorn in my side.

Everybody knew he loved Lily Evans, he wasn’t very discreet about his big, awful crush on her. The whole bloody Hogwarts knew about his infatuation with the redhead girl. I used to tease him about it alongside Sirius, Remus, and Peter.

Maybe it was in our 6th year? When I realised?

We were all sitting in Potions classes when Slughorn decided we should work in pairs. I turned to Lily because we usually partnered up.

“Oh, no, no, no,” said Slughron with a big smile on his face “We should mix things up a bit. I’m going to assign your partners”

All of the students present growled at his revelation. I feared I would end up with some Slytherin bloke. However, Slughorn had other plans.

And in that way, Sirius ended up working with Peter (a disaster indeed), Remus was assigned to some Slytherin girl (poor Remus), Lily with Severus Snape (well, they were still friends at that point), Dorcas with a shy girl from Gryffindor, I believed her name was Lucy (Lucy was good at Potions so Dorcas won a partners lottery), Marlene and Mary together (they worked good together), and that left me with James Potter.

I smiled at him but inside I was screaming. Everybody knew Potter was good at every single class but he rarely paid attention to the instructions. I knew I would end up doing all the work myself and constantly reminding him to focus. What I didn’t anticipate was that we would be working on an Amortentia potion. Slughorn first called us to see what the potion should look like and, of course, he asked us what we could smell.

When I tried to concentrate, I recognised the smell of old books, my favourite candy from Honeydukes, Andromeda’s famous pumpkin pie, and something I couldn’t quite recognise.

That’s when the revelation came and I was hit in the face with the smell of James’ cologne. I thought he was standing too close to me but when I looked around he was actually close to Lily Evans bothering her.

The whole class was a nightmare only because I now knew that somehow James Potter’s smell was in MY Amortentia potion. His constant questions about what I could smell didn’t help either. He was too curious for his own good.

“Just drop it, Potter”

“You probably smelled a wet rat”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night”

“I couldn’t sleep if I knew you fancied Wormtail”

“Stop, Potter, or I’m going to hex you”

“Always a charmer, Black”

He tried to touch my shoulder but I was still too scared from the moments before when I smelled him in the potion so I shuffled a little so as not to be touched by the boy. James looked confused and his smile dropped a little but I paid no attention to it, too preoccupied with my own conflicting thoughts.

When the class ended, I quickly packed my bags and left the classroom.

We never talked about it again.

*~*~*

Maybe it was at a party after Gryffindor won with Slytherin? We were all having a blast till the very end. I danced with my friends, drank a lot, and flirted with some boys who tried to get my attention. It wasn’t until our little group of friends were the only ones that stayed in the common room. Marlene had a genius plan to play Spin the Bottle. You had to kiss the person it landed on.

“I’m not going to kiss my sister, McKinnon,” said Sirius. I pretended to vomit at the mere thought of it.

“He’s right, Marlene, what are we supposed to do if it lands on one of us? I know Blacks have a tradition of marrying within the family but I really do not wish to continue this madness”

“Okay, if you don’t want to kiss someone, you need to answer a question truthfully and drink”

We all agreed to that.

Now I see it was stupid.

Remus spun the bottle first and it landed on Peter.

“Truth, please,” said Lupin and we all laughed.

“Okay, Remus, who was your first real kiss?” asked Mary. Remus looked uncomfortable, and so did I because I knew the truth.

“Um, I don’t know if she wants her identity to be revealed” Remus tried to dodge the question.

“Shut up, Moony, you agreed to play the game!” Sirius gave him a shot of firewhiskey which he needed to drink after answering the question.

“Okay” Remus sighed “It was (Y/N)”

“You kissed my sister?!”

“You wanted me to tell the truth!”

“I think I made myself very clear when I said that my sister is off-limits for you idiots!”

“Well, brother, that’s why the kiss was so good” I tried defending Remus but probably made it worse “Because it was forbidden” I winked at Remus who quickly emptied his glass and blushed like crazy.

“This conversation isn’t over” Sirius pointed at his friend “Are you going to tell me you snogged Prongs and Wormtail too?” he asked me.

“You’ll never know, brother”

Peter spinned the bottle next and it landed on Mary. It was a quick kiss.

Mary needed then to kiss Marlene.

Marlene kissed my brother who then kissed Lily.

Lily spun the bottle and I saw that James wanted really badly for it to land on him. His dreams were crushed when it stopped at Dorcas.

Then Dorcas kissed Remus.

But when Remus spun again it landed on me.

“Come here, Remus, for old times’ sake”

Sirius screamed something I couldn’t understand. The kiss with Remus was sweet and quick, just like I remembered our first one. I smiled reassuringly at him after but I knew my brother would talk his ears off later on.

I took the bottle and spun it. I prayed it wouldn’t land on Sirius.

Well.

The bottle landed on James Potter instead.

“Two out of three. Better get ready Peter” I said with a smirk but inside I was actually stressed. I still remembered his smell in amortentia.

James slowly made his way to me never once breaking the eye contact. He sat in front of me, staring intensely. He put his hand on my cheek when his lips met mine. I shut my eyes closed and kissed him back. His lips were soft and, Merlin, he knew what he was doing when he pushed his tongue inside my mouth. I grasped his shirt bringing him closer to me and biting on his lower lip. He moaned a little trying to kiss me even harder but he had too much strength and it ended up with us falling to the ground, James on top of me.

“That’s enough, Prongs, it’s my sister” Sirius helped James get up and then gave me a hand.

I don’t remember much from that party after that.

My mind was still fixated on that little moan.

James Potter’s kiss made my legs weak.

It was mind-blowing.

*~*~*

The party was long forgotten when next day James declared his undying love for Lily Evans to the whole school during breakfast. I tried to squish my little crush when I still had the chance to move on.

At the end of our 6th year, I knew I was fucked. I noticed every single little thing about James Potter. I liked the way those little wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes when he was laughing. I loved his jokes. I adored how much he cared for his friends and family, how he could do absolutely everything in his power to cheer Remus up after a full moon, how he got out of his way to tell Sirius and me that our family name didn’t define us as people, how he would defend Peter when Sirius was making fun of him.

I was even mad at Lily for not seeing how wonderful he was. I was furious when she was still rejecting him, making fun of him. He didn’t deserve that. He deserved to be loved unconditionally. He deserved someone who would fall madly, truly, deeply in love with him, who would know all his quirks and bad sides and even though still love him for who he was.

James Potter was loud and obnoxious and he did strut a little but he was also devoted to his friends, funny, caring, and good-hearted. And if Lily Evans didn’t see that, it was my personal mission to make James realise that he deserved better.

Sirius and I spent the summer at the Potters. My brother went there for almost every school break but it was maybe my third time there. I didn’t want to leave Reggie alone with our parents but turned out he was more than okay with their way of treating me. That was when I sent an owl to Sirius and he told me to pack my bags and go to the Potters.

We had a lot of fun together. We laughed, we played quidditch, we talked a lot, and I even helped them plan their next prank for the beginning of our last year at Hogwarts. Euphemia Potter was a sweet lady who welcomed me to her house with open arms. I helped her a lot around the house and talked to her about every little thing I couldn’t talk about with my mother. She was great, she made me realise that maybe I had a mother but I never had a mom.

Fleamont Potter was just like James but older. He made a lot of jokes, gave us candy when his wife wasn’t looking, he even asked me if I could marry his son once.

”You see, (Y/N), I believe you would be a great match for my son. I see how he looks at you, how his smile is wider whenever you are near. He talks about his mystery girl a lot but he could never tell us when we would be able to meet the love of his life, as he likes to call her. Now I see why. Sirius is always around and I’m not sure he would be okay with his best friend dating his sister”

”Oh, Mr Potter, I think you have it all wrong. I appreciate the vote of confidence but I am not James’ mystery girl. Her name is Lily and she’s my friend”

”We’ll see about that, (Y/N)”

During one evening Sirius went to bed earlier because he didn’t feel good and that left me and James alone in his backyard, lying on the grass and looking up at the night sky.

”Jamie, your father wants me to marry you”

”What?!”

”Yeah, crazy, right? He thinks I’m your mystery girl”

”Oh, and what did you tell him?”

”That it’s definitely not me. That I know the girl you have a crush on and he said that we’ll see”

”I have no idea why he said that I’m very sorry”

”No big deal, Potter”

After a moment of silence, I decided it was time to talk to James about Lily. I was nervous and a little scared that the conversation would ruin our friendship.

”James”

”(Y/N)”

”I’ve been thinking about you and Lily for a while”

”Oh?”

”Yeah” I took a deep breath before continuing,” I think she doesn’t deserve you”

”How so?”

”You see, Jamie, you’ve been trying to get the girl since we were thirteen years old and she’s still not even slightly interested in going on a date with you. She’s always laughing at you, turning you down. I don’t think that’s very good for you. I get that you’re in love with her but maybe you should start thinking about yourself a little bit?”

James was quiet for a moment.

”What do you mean?”

”You deserve the world, James Potter. You deserve a girl who will be madly in love with you. You deserve a girl who will love you unconditionally. You are a good guy. Sure, you have your faults. We all have them. But you should be loved the way you love other people - wholeheartedly. I don’t think Lily is the right girl for you. I’m also not saying you should do whatever I’m telling you right now. I just believe you should think about it a little bit and decide if it’s even worth it. Because you, James Potter, are definitely worth it and it’s her loss if she cannot see that”

”Wow, Black, do you have a crush on me or something?” He chuckled making my heart hurt a little bit.

”You’re also an idiot” I slapped his shoulder but laughed with him too. Despite my smile, my heart was breaking a little bit just because the thought of me having a crush on James only made him laugh. ”I’m your friend, I just hate to see you struggling so much”

”You are a good mate, (Y/N). Thank you for always looking out for me” James took my hand in his and interceded our fingers. He softly caressed my hand with his thumb.

”Always”

*~*~*

During our 7th year, everything changed. James Potter suddenly stopped being interested in Lily Evans anymore. And that was a big, juicy gossip at Hogwarts. How could it have happened that James Potter just stopped loving Lily Evans? Could he have another girl? Maybe he had a secret girlfriend?

There was a lot of gossip about his possible girlfriend going around the school. I was just glad that he finally realised that he was worth much more than what Lily was giving him all those years.

That was also when I noticed that he paid a lot more attention to me. He always sat next to me, he wanted to be partners in every class which made Sirius mad, he helped me with my homework, and he walked me to my classes even when it meant that he would be late to his. It was really weird but I wouldn’t dare to hope he suddenly had a crush on me. I wasn’t stupid.

Until that one fateful night in October when I helped the boys with the prank we planned together. A Ravenclaw prefect was patrolling the corridors. He spotted us near the kitchens and shouted something.

”Run!” Shouted Peter. We all started to run but we were a big group so it would be easy to eventually catch us.

”We need to scatter,” said Remus out of breath. Peter immediately turned the corner and turned into a rat. What a team player.

”(Y/N), here” James took my hand and made me run with him in the opposite direction from Remus and Sirius. He found an empty broom closet and quickly closed the doors behind us. There wasn’t a lot of space so we were very close, our noses were practically touching. James put his fingers on my lips so I was quiet. His other hand was still holding mine and squeezing it reassuringly. After a while, when we were sure the Ravenclaw boy wasn’t coming in this direction, James moved his hand to my waist.

He was staring at me very intensely.

”What?” I whispered to him ”Do I have something on my face? Why are you looking at me like that, Potter?”

”Remember what my dad told you? About my mystery girl?”

”Yeah?” I was confused. Why bringing it up now?

”He was right, you know? It never was Evans. I like her, sure, but as a friend”

”What? Then why were you running after her like a lost puppy all those years?”

”Remember when we first met?”

”Of course, I do, James. I hated you.” He chuckled at that.

”I thought you were a stuck-up rich girl but you proved me wrong, (Y/N). I had this big crush on you in our first year”

I looked at him as if he had three heads. What was he talking about? I put my hand on his forehead to check if he wasn’t sick. He rolled his eyes at me.

”I told Sirius about that. He was my best friend so I thought that he would give me some advice. What I didn’t anticipate though was that he would be overprotective of his sister. He screamed at me almost all night, he said that if I ever try to fancy you again he will personally beat the living shit out of me. I get him, you know? You are his precious little sister…”

”He’s only two minutes and three seconds older”

”…and he wants to protect you from all the bad guys out there even if his best friend is one of them. So I tried to never talk about that again. But Sirius knew. In our third year, he came up with a rule which he then proudly told us about. We are friends and friends don’t fancy each other's siblings. If we ever dare to break the rule, that means we were never friends in the first place. I was scared, you know? I didn’t want to lose both of you so I told him later that he has nothing to worry about because I don’t fancy you anymore, that there is another girl I have my eyes on. He asked me who it was and I panicked. Lily Evans was the first one to come to my mind because you two were always together. So as not to lose my best friend I tried to persuade him that I love Lily Evans”

”You were quite good at that”

”Shut up, Black, I’m not finished. Then you mentioned the conversation with my father and told me to look for someone who deserves me. Love, the problem is I never felt good enough for you but your words made me think. If not now then when? Am I supposed to watch you fall in love with some idiot? Am I supposed to stand in the crowd at your wedding even though I want to be the one waiting at the altar for you? Am I supposed to let the girl of my dreams slip through my fingers because I’m too scared of what my best friend will say about this? You said a lot of nice things about me that night so let me return the favor. You are incredibly smart and witty, (Y/N) Black. I love it when you get so preoccupied with your book that you’re not really paying attention to the world around you. You bite your lip a lot when you’re focused on the books you like. I adore the way you always come up with a sarcastic comment about everything stupid we say. I like to watch you cheer for me and your brother at quidditch matches. I love the way you care for your friends and family, even when some of them obviously don’t deserve that. You are stunning, (Y/N) Black, in and out and I am madly in love with you”

”Remember that one class last year when we were making amortentia? You asked me what I smelled and I didn’t want to tell you”

”I remember”

”That’s because I smelled you and it scared the living shit out of me”

”You smelled me?” James was surprised but he had a small smile on his face.

”Yes” I looked down because I knew I just blushed like crazy and was a little embarrassed about that ”Later on there was this big party after you guys crushed Slytherins at quidditch and Marlene suggested spin the bottle game”

”I really wished that damn bottle would point at me. I might have used a spell to be sure actually”

”You what?”

”That kiss was totally worth it. I still think about it”

”You used magic to kiss me? You’re a fool, James Potter” I laughed a little but couldn’t help myself and grinned happily. ”You didn’t have to do that”

”And why is that?” James smiled at me and let go of my hand. He cupped my cheek instead and waited patiently for my answer. That little bastard. I stared at his lips for longer than I would like to admit it. But, Merlin, how much I wanted to taste those soft lips again, to hear him moan in my mouth.

”Because,” I said getting closer to him. He still looked me in the eyes, our lips brushed when I said the next part ”I am madly in love with you too, James Potter”

He didn’t wait for another second. He pushed his lips against mine and kissed me hard. I put my arms around his neck trying to bring him closer to me. One of his hands wandered behind my back and under my shirt while the other tangled itself in my hair. I bit his lower lip again hoping that I would get the reaction I wanted.

And I did.

He moaned into my lips and put his tongue in my mouth. I remember that at one point we knocked a broom over but we didn’t care much about that.

I felt happy, over the moon happy. James made me feel all of the emotions at once: excitement, love, happiness. I felt as if I was made just for him and he for me. When our lips met it was like fireworks on New Year’s Eve, as cheesy as it sounds. But James Potter made me into one of those giggly girls who wouldn’t shut up about their boyfriends. And the worst part is, I didn’t mind.

When we finally broke apart to get some air, James was grinning like crazy and still holding me close to him. I wondered if he could feel the way my heart was beating so fast.

In that small broom closet, I felt like the luckiest girl in the entire world.

James suddenly became very serious and there was a wrinkle on his forehead as if he was worried about something. He hid his head on my shoulder and hugged me tightly.

”James?”

”Merlin, how am I going to tell that to Padfoot”

”That’s something we should worry about tomorrow”

”Can you kiss it better?”

”You’re not hurt?”

”But I will be tomorrow”

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imnots-things · 5 months

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MK stuff #1

*This is my first time posting MK stuff, there will be a lot of mistakes. *English is not my native language. I'm still in the process of learning and using translation tools. *The story below is inspired by the intro Sub-Zero vs Sindel and Sub-Zero vs Noob Saibot in MK11

BiHanzo

From the moment Kuai Liang became conscious of the world around him, he recognized that his brother was a cold person.

Kuai Liang looked at his brother paralyzed on the bed. For a moment, he felt like he was back in his childhood, when his brother, who was always strong, suddenly fell silent in the infirmary.

"Brother.."

His heart ached again, his distant black eyes returned to reality, he gently held his brother's hand, unconsciously stroking his brother's pinky finger.

Cryomancers are people with the power of ice, they freeze everything; cold-blooded with everything; All the thorns of ice express the personalities of those who bring this cold death. They’re vain, and also proud of their abilities - the abilities that got them banished from their homeland.

“Why were we banished?”

“That's not called banishment, that's being weak and unable to defend yourself against dangers, and the price to pay is having to flee.”

Cryomancers are very closely related by blood, unlike their ice-cold appearance, they actually care about each other.

"That's hurt…"

"Shut up! That's because of your carelessness. One more word and I'll throw you to the Grandmaster's place" - Bi-han shouted at his brother who was 6 years younger than him, clumsily treating his brother's wound.

Is it true that winter runs through their blood, so they are not allowed to express their emotions? Or to put it in a slightly more demanding way, that is, they are not allowed to feel and bring warmth to others.?

"Brother! He's injured! We can't leave him alone."

“Leave it alone, there's no place for the weak here. And we'll miss dinner if we worry about this kid.”

And that was the first time he disobeyed his brother's words. Ignoring the harsh words, he still gradually helped the grey-haired boy towards the infirmary…

—

Bi-Han's finger twitched slightly as a sign of regaining consciousness. This so startled Kuai Liang that he snatched his hand out of his grasp.

Heavily, Bi-Han opened his eyes, the black pupils of a living person appearing in his once-white eyes. He looked at his younger brother, and for a moment, he felt a lot of things flow through him as if a storm of emotions were pouring into him.

"Welcome back… brother..." - Kuai Liang looked at him, his eyes became more emotional than ever.

“I’m back…”

Kuai Liang watched Raiden "purify" his brother, hearing his brother's cries of pain as the thunder god little by little pulled out the darkness from his body. A shiver swiftly ran down his spine, his childhood memories suddenly and strangely coincided with his current situation. It's just that these things are good for his brother now, unlike the horrifying experiments on his brother when they were both still in the old Lin Kuei.

He remembered that, at that time, he and Tomas secretly looked through the door. There were a lot of people in the room, they were going back and forth, wearing white clothes, covering their faces, and his brother was there, stripped naked and having different drugs injected into him. As for the others, they simply recorded his brother's reactions in the report, discussing among themselves the cryomancer's abilities.

He was very shocked, and also cried when he heard his brother's pitiful screams when the medicine began to react on him. He and Tomas hugged each other and cried for a long time. Both children did not understand why their family treated their closest person like that. They returned to their room together, covered themselves with blankets in fear. Terrified and exhausted, they fell asleep.

When he woke up the next day, he was frightened to see Bi-Han toddling back to the room with a baggy surgical gown stained with blood on his body. He frantically rushed towards his brother, and what he received was cold eyes.

"I have failed in my mission. If you want to be punished like me, then keep slacking off,” - his brother's voice was hoarse, like someone who had just come out of the dead.

In the following days, the frequency of Bi-han's disappearance increased, his viciousness and insensitivity became more and more out of control. The climax was when he killed his opponent during a practice match even though that person had surrendered his weapon.

Kuai Liang still remembers his brother's face at that time. The terror under his eyes and the fake inhuman smile on his face..

—

Bi-Han woke up again in the Lin Kuei infirmary...

Looking around, he realized there was no one, not even a guard. He looked down at his hands, his hands looked more like a living person than ever.

He wanted to sit up, but the pain in the middle of his body suddenly went straight to his brain, causing him to lie still in pain. He began to reminisce about the days when he was still a Noob, when he was at the peak of his power, physical wounds or weapons stuck to his body did not even cause him to feel pain; he is free to do whatever he wants..

But now he is no longer Noob...and not Sub-Zero either. Now he is Bi-Han - a weak mortal.

He tried creating an ice blade in his hand, and what he got were sharp pieces of ice protruding from his flesh that weren't cold enough. The skin on his hand cracked open to make room for those pieces of ice to take shape. He still has the ability of a cryomancer, the only honor he feels he can keep for himself is to create a perfect ice blade, no matter how much pain he feels.

“Bi-han! Stop!"

Fragments of unfinished ice shattered, as if all his efforts and honor were also shattered into pieces...

Kuai stood at the door, receiving indignant looks from his brother. He didn't leave but also raised his voice at him.

"Do you know what you're doing?!"

"Whatever I do will affect you?!" - His right hand was bleeding, the red that once disgusted and haunted him was now flowing down his forearm.

Kuai did not speak anymore, it acted in a way that he never expected.

His brother hugged him.

“Don't, brother. Just don't.."

His younger brother's voice whispered in his ear, full of pain and sadness. Kuai let go of him and looked straight into his eyes. After a moment of surprise, he realized one thing, how much his younger brother had grown up...

---

Cryomancers can “feel” each other whenever they are in danger; Or simply sadness, something hard to say, or silence.

“Kuai..come here…”

Startled, he turned his head towards the slightly open window, and indeed there was a figure sitting there, hugging himself and silent.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you…”

“Take off your armor and come here.”

Kuai quickly did as his brother said, and then he was also cautious when approaching his brother - who was almost completely hidden in the darkness with his black clothes on.

“What's the matter?”

Sit down, careful to keep your distance from your brother. Kuai felt that Bi-Han's day was a bit different from usual. He knew he hadn't done well enough in the training area, and he was also ready to hear his brother scold him.

Bi-Han still silently looked out the window, the blinding snowstorm covered his vision.

Surprise flashed across his younger brother's face when Bi-Han pulled him into his arms, and this made him truly bewildered.. He raised one hand to his younger brother's head, stroking his messy hairs after practice, he began to speak in a quiet voice, as if this were a secret between two brothers.

"I almost died today... that person has the ability to use pryomancy..." - the calloused hand gently stroked his head, while his eyes remained distantly looking out the window.

“-I didn't know death could be so warm..” - he whispered, as if talking to himself.

He continued to silently stroke his head, his originally cruel hand suddenly became gentle, Kuai felt like he had been comforted by someone like this before.

“Don't die..Kuai Liang…at least don't die while I'm still alive..”

Suddenly, a strange feeling passed through him. It is gentle and pleasant, but also contains a lot of sadness, fear and hope. Kuai slightly looked up at his brother - his always frowning, serious and determined face was now uncertain...with tears forming in the corners of his eyes...

“It's time to take your medicine, brother.”

Bi-Han had been lying there for a few days, and other than being uncomfortable and wanting to move around soon, his brother had been silent most of the time.

Kuai Liang carefully fed his brother the medicine. The bitter medicine made him wince, but he still tried to swallow every mouthful his brother fed him.

“We have a guest coming today, it’s Grandmaster Hasashi.”

“Hanzo Hasashi?”

The slight surprise that flashed through his brother's eyes made Kuai Liang wonder what made his brother become like that. Besides the questions about that "fateful day", he almost knew quite well. As for his brother's relationship with the Grandmaster of Shirai Ryu, they don't seem to like each other very much. No one would have sympathy for the person who killed them, but somehow, Kuai felt a little "weird" emotionally in some way. Something secret, hard to say,...from his brother.

…

Kuai Liang had never seen his brother smile so tenderly, and that smile was for the person who killed him.

Kuai stood from afar and observed his brother and the Grandmaster of Shirai Ryu, it would not have been worth mentioning if Bi-Han did not try to sit up and reach out towards that person. Somehow he found his brother strangely "gentle", he was happy, but also sad because such gentle things were never for him.

The Lin Kuei’s Grandmaster pondered, he watched his brother nestle into his nemesis's arms and let him pat his head.

For a moment, Kuai remembered his old friend, he had died, and what he left behind was an empty void.

—

“Thank you Hanzo, one day we will visit you when my brother's condition is better.”

“It's okay… and I think it would be better if you would listen to your brother.”

Hanzo teleported away before Kuai could say "What—?", he stood thoughtfully for a moment then returned to his brother, just as Bi-Han was clinging to the bed frame and trying to stand up. It looked like Bi-han was having a hard time standing on his feet, but he still tried to walk without noticing his little brother standing in front of the door.

"Brother.."

"Don't stop me, Kuai Liang" - his voice was raucous, his wobbly legs looked like they could fall at any moment.

And this time he didn't stop him, at least maybe this is what Hanzo wanted to tell him. Kuai moved forward to catch his brother when he stumbled. He helped him stand up, and continued to help him walk.

“Let me help you.”

#bi han #hanzo hasashi #kuai liang #mk11 #mortal kombat #sub zero #noob saibot #mk scorpion #bihanzo

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k-looking-glass-house · 2 years

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Hi there! Love your work! Your edits are amazing!! I have a question; what flowers did you use for each Fairy Gala edit you made? I'm curious to know if you chose a specific flower for each boi to represent them~

Hi there lovely one,

Thank you so much I'm truly glad you think so!

Ah what a good question, yes I actually tried "something" while trying to make something aesthetically pleasing~

Sorry for my bad english....I'll try to explain.....

Malleus Draconia

White roses: Do I need to really explain why roses..... Being part of "the twisted version of Sleeping beauty". And thorns go with roses and vice versa. Kind of cliché but I couldn't consider any other flowers for our so perfect dragon fairy (that fangirl inside me is screaming). Hm hmm.... well white rose represents pure love, pure feeling, soft emotion and some kind of shyness.

Thorns: As the next king of the Briar Valley (Valley of Thorns), I guess thorns pattern are related to the royal family. Also it's the very essence of (my favorite disney character ever) Maleficent's vibes! As for the meaning of it: actually it has multiple meaning but I'll give more details about it with others design I did. But thorns mean benevolent protection and in my country ironically it repulses thunders (minus with potatoes lol).

Vil Schoenheit

Vines: I'll be very honnest I chose it for being so supaaahhh asthetically pleasing, at first.... But vines mean strong bond, it was used as wedding seal in some old fashion folklore and it's still know as something strong and "beautifully" looking~

Wisteria (Glycine): In my country I don't know around the world (or maybe it's just a fact in my family hn) but it's considered the most elegant flowers among others! The flower means tender friendship, I'm sorry but can we all just remember our Evil Queen (as the best mommy vibes ever) in the 6th arc. so perfect~ Also fun fact but wisteria's seeds are poisonous but not the plant and flowers which grew out of it...... Isn't it the perfect image of Vil related to The Evil Queen himself~

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilium (Lys): Yes he should have hair ornament at first but I wasn't very sure about it~ Anyway it's literrally his name, I was meant to give him that sort of flowers. Liliums do also have various meaning:

-white lilium means purity, noblesse and devotion, also maternity and having faith and in certain extent mourning (please spare us during arc 7)

-pink red one means love, passion also giving those to someone means "come and get your love if you're able to, love me, love me it'll be fun to watch" ....litterally ... (I don't understand ...he's not at all a troll on some point... that fairy)

Also speaking of bouquet lilium goes perfectly with rose~

Thorns and wild berries: Same as Malleus, Lilia being a famous General in their country and being devoted to the royal family, I can only imagine him wearing those patterns! Thorns and wild berries also have numerous meaning:

-in past Greece it was considered as "Titan Blood", despite being able to go through, it would leave some stains no matter what (the famous war General back then), it could also means "envy" (related to Maleficent tragic story it could fit).

-it was also used back then to scarred children to not leave the road to eat those looking delicious berries as some mothers would tell them it's poisonous! Temptation is never good and children shoudn't be attracted and gave their trust easily. It's also related to injustice as thorns get grips on everything never letting go! Very heavy meaning to those related to Briar Valley.

Azul Ashengrotto

Magnolia: In my head....only in my head but when they bloom...they're looking like some octo tentacles..... The texture of them are also veryyyy squishy...(I'm out please leave my brain alone). It does exist flowers growing under water and in the sea, but bringing them back to the surface they would suffer the" unfair" injustice of our great "blob fish"!!! Anyway magnolia mean fidelity and respect (signs his contract first please....), it could also mean beauty as our crybaby fought very hard to have his glow up growing up (pat pat good job)~

Sebek Zigvolt

Mimosa: I give "our waka-sama fanboy bodyguard whatever you want" mimosa! Yes you'll be able to see his design more later! Mimosa are very solar, the meaning is tenderness, elegance, magnificense, loyal friendship and security! Also some kind of tender feeling towards our elders. And it smeelllllls so good that our croco boy would attract any fairies to brag about Malleus for hours!

Also the fairy gala event got two categories for me:

the sun related one Leona, Kalim, Ace and Ortho

the moon related one Jamil, Ruggie, Silver and Jack

According to the traditional related meaning of the sun and the moon (masculine, feminine bla bla you know the good stuff), I also tried to fit my design in the same vibes. I gave them flowers related to moon or sun energy~

Phewww such a long post sorry for my bad grammatical sentences and so on, hope I did answer your question!

Again thanks for asking~

#kanswers #uwah such a long post I need a nap #ktwstfairygala

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libidomechanica · 21 days

Text

Untitled Composition # 11453

A sonnet sequence

Had heed of which to conceit of my face. There mething maid. Why did he begin now wherewithall away. But tell. That should string leaves drooping whom, could be closer? As show so yellow leave me here ever beauteous to spirit’s. Than a cycle of this pomp to cry aloud friend; but fear. And face is meete: a chapelet on a moment her so when you like tranqullitie, witnesse called thence came to sing’ or Regent, whose loved in glory, and the wintry world, to fall; that thou, to-day, to stay, and wiser than you open first prepare thee, hold on fire, of herbes or wanted, upon the brink?

And ever worth into this fair face, I espye: the bliss assured of silverly around ears, which theyr sheepe, such things that fine began to wearing o’er have you because ye hae them burn to the young Jessie, while the deep into them all its wings and wanton Nimph for her! And see but one of heart;—as I have gassed all times with head she just light; Thus on it anew reviving world is discreet at all: in vain. By the interpret when his excus’d I to the many a sounds of me why I send you that old Susan will not show farwell she prayer he shadow of a ready as my stept.

III

We deem’d a seconds whom you, we have relish in us had escapes, we mought me temperate: rough your hours of thee with Wisdom wafted; the owlets builds up a glasse passed the pype to a shrilled towns, to brings are at a glasse: all as the unders black and of such ivory. But little canst the lowly bending at the heap’d with meagre, bare sheepe the sad distress overwhelm surmise? Beating, and moan all ruby red, cheeks like a vice: had she close alone could race with thee ioy of this, leaving, in narrow for my voice’s sink that dim apart in gastful groue most what hath was done. Me, day by day presence forth, and the osier-isle we the winds, and what is sometimes long past; to show your dreamed you. Among there vnprouided, leaving house’s latch there were thousand though mochell worse, a woman but glimpses of praises in hall, doth my great deep being crag, and now, perhaps a thousand gummy francke?

Thus fixed to Dian? Reaping vp waues, pampred in high fane? Beside the temple of great deepe, they always when all the golden quill, and Betty’s still at Susan groans redouble: ev’ry nymph mourn to, light, a little canst do though the drew, then to deare. Old Algrin, his chinne. I should be closed to this english homely hands, in tender prest peona guiding. Fluttering of thine day light holds her excellence, all pleasure filled by his most auaile. Visitor: I am gone in that regions? Was on an infant Orpheus, in Johnny! Around its good will, even and forgot how, upon days?

Now she none, then thus I leaven, and adore and wonder midnight deathbell run, catch the sayncts, which it shall be; thou doest prepared, she shuddering wings indigest such set the price of love my life’s fickle times we look, the breeze that left me, and vale, that smell, yet neare the best. The meadows of the day, and his brethren were, that comes, but with a squalid savage—what beat about our own at Keswick, and his legs, and nurse; and of S. The owlets purr, and with the dore stars dart that well for thorn; no leave the moments are while, that not, happy herself she choice virtue’s image, that play still she knelt, with a single break for pale enchantment the stoppeth the gold; that bless to be free from the edges left behind a blank as a fresh spring, hear us, greatly drawn, sees full many send: for conversation to her? To equally like a sounded in the wife, the nuptial room, imprison doors!

I, being, he hunts here be any dove. Let the tear their voices of his yerely some iouisaunce? Will be but an ancient kindness now, if you go ahead, go on, go on back, she could devise some folk of hot and Johnny’s lips drinking ill prevail? Done other, ’tis no prize, the intelligence, fetter does deserve you can. With wings of the golden chat, and mute than they walke another wrist is frozen, o Tinkler Maidgie was bonie white-flowery nest. If it thee thriue: neuer knewe I loue to skye, that airy train you with his bed of the day, ye wadna gie a button for ever!

VII

When laboured by therein did it would spared, buttress’d me to the many subtle canst not walking, as signe of him, seems to begins to this nightly pats the day care tongue fault above thy quill and tell the leaf, that blaze flattering rose And now she’s woo’d, up-follow when as the charms, they shoulden days? That never found; which I should shew that heaven fall, they fed nothing throbb’d no long Excursion of one of love me, and beauty brings because Give me bounteous story. To gathering be, and the Doctor, to clarion, hyena foemen, and here are thee: the river, are locke, thy dove with Magic-mighty wind out its voice calls me that somedele their veil I saw a crow to-whoo, to-whoo, and sorrows flower! Thy beauties the hardly for the door. Which now she’s gallop on a newe misse. Nobody turned their voice did roll the Muses well knowe, chaunced to the dreary mountain-height.

VIII

The wheel in prison: My genitals have crush, but in the long again.—Knowing known, even that joint: she sigh’d there let us kiss and times, where dwell. His quicker sike a paragon. Untimely woe, bethinks no moe the one for that harmes had prest peona’s hands, your wished hence, and let us look at the ground ever be still cryes. They did; but nowe sithence calling like a tinted for Perigot is weary woe. Niggard, why dost thou didst implores in the peoples plunging along they huddled from wicked in happy Betty Foy! Be rather messenger, the waters of emotion is no drearily on barren woman said, but sing, well exprest, where for then though the dore still, not with the How; Giving a younger the foule least parts ere the vale because the dull and quiet, turtles passions were bow’d down twenty little to a shrewish thee, my name—lo, the flock or Shepherd-god.

Love, to go that I brought I must ridge, who touch holds the rich result of Time, they would every sheepe bene of all the Earth so sweet flows down herself she hies, but bind me a ring-dove for his forenoons and darke heart with mine own worthiness did Johnny’s but of shepheard, and at gaze upon the burden may floating schooled the children’s circled and cave, thee in star-flower, endymion: yet still grew brilliant, where. So she did spill. Not—thy soul on Cloe’s eyes forth fruit, and you canst not so well apayd? What’s sae proud of merrier bene ycladde it is frost witness to blame if it be at best.

Scott, Rogers, Campbell, Moore, and how the chord of things have ever afternoon, a faint fare-thee-wells, and mine own again, and swete Eglantine, and with her Dame, and trust me, where the spot wherever and poor guide appear like louing bright, Betty’s questioning, waning, willing to understand—better he beaded-curtains: ’twas loneness bears alone within the same, this english home, and yours, with greene? Many a very chere.—By that hill of fraud and gourd; so deare the heauens high upon thy call me, is silence and draw, to leaves in folds her for him, like a hawk with vncalled out and so to behold!

Heart, with myne the major part musk or civet canst not serve it ran away; though Ioy her door, would shew that were to part of all have circled and vnkempt: there’s a moon is no prize, that which is very day and the found, darkness these my night. Then had their eyes forth her image, that nowe sike myrth now that we done, from his song and within, the feature forest brain, I shape me—ever remove, The bad me lovely Rose,—tell how to the artery of melody;—that searching: yes, with his wesand beautiful, unanswered Johnny’s lips asunder you’ve done each party? When he helpless foot; bronze glow.

XII

The sun was a home, and two into the sunflower yet testifying restless resourse, rock’d me broke of the spider in peace hem to knock at me with vinegar and expire; so trembles the strongest languish. Her man, than if I fail beneath hath shut out, as he mountains and purging fire, that eternal, measure. It was on a hill, alas! Done, thoughtful still look on me. Me, had I been its bonds broken profit of beauty passion rules of superior sway, but that to reason; the raindrops in your eyes: so I will break footing, and open thy side by side, and the dreaming.

XIII

Tripping dragons all his spirits. I wanna be your idiot boy. That liv’st but be they might badge is buried the blackbird in the rocks that euen in the one bridge. And hurl their famish’d by that inward glance: so kept walking in public place; sylent and splendour far to leese this poetry, at least a wise Kings, the flood of witch’s life, or well, they told men in the bridegroom was the door. Brightest haps that thou guess by the incessant by the elevator where either and to call back to straiten’d for the taperness, and there he was aye between my bundle neuer went, her would herds call.

XIV

I drinking Stephen Hill; and while they would be needy whom I’ve describe your hand for love, and thus for the smile hold it! Perfect beauty take me. She was on thy chamber, and loued their face for jealous eye and roll the World is death. Of her Body chance: so happy chang’d to faintest inter-sections be his guided steps, till he’s bough,—an’ Charlie and Dreams be from what euer was whispers first workings on the tree, and winnow from above—devoid of thy fair the fairy trailer from the length of body. I, the mourning northern nightly have closed the town, their measure of hys foe. Then a hazard.

Let the figure was she none, she is, theyr wonted like as the forehead anither thee, when the watch the young maisters dead, on each his slipped palms each press’d there wast, and a lifetime. We can scarcely heart on fire: what moment’s a blur, a Film Fun laughing air. Lay you stand answering way down-sunken hours of toil releast, thou this woe, wherein I saw him blazing of that did silent Dead thy hapless fount of that love, who like a stay. Why so pantingly house, treat too he the ringing coming, by divine strokes the poet laureate, I told me too high content, the burdens, as mortal too.

XVI

—For I will and choke on it must have cradle on whom your bodies in thousand aves to sprinkling with lewde lust, hardly he, for a lass wi’ the bought hauing, nought that gaue him from Phoebus light, and gied my blissfully bleeds, sweet than interpret where is no need of a babe your lakes and knucklebone. To—God known ye. Some home return’d, and daughter he sheep, a carefull vertue servile toil and all but death, and learnd euer I wil the porch of garment you lovers met here, she went at last the playd, it floure done, he lyes in her immortall will pay you hear thought uptook her ebon urn, younger.

XVII

There glad exclaim, and gentle hath to mirke. And haunten rather heart on fire the tyrant- hater he sandy tracts, and he’s dozin, his pure so: it fills me with Tyranny could they cull time’s sweet retir’d; not cool’d by the arrow-straight ease; and send a fever long as men are will ease a bonie white, haunt us till break it shall be true a prosperity. In Proserpine, when went— poor Martha! Puzzled soul may hide theyr sheene: o happy states the silent, stept into hear what I shall I never have their measure: her Lord his Queene, then the shepe, hey ho the shape of love and still. I to rehearse.

XVIII

I sung he dying, somewhere. When last she went, and let me such things, and wanne he was large a milking, to move across the harvest, well might nearer heart was to stir; and hollow leave thee I send you for many a dusty answer; feeling maisters noise; her lord it, and all thy fair the poore Sheepe, whose bright charge nibbled medowes my knees I pray you go?—An’ Charlie, he’s my days dragg’d down with that or fairest maid held her down by the wilderness, and yet not glide; all cates and casten to haue broake, but half an hour warmer Simpson did steade, and burn’d her wishes went! Will lay here; it haue speld.

XIX

In her Nature farre am I from land. Can I but ran brightes, as the sheepe in golden hate what I would explanations’ airy sweet selfe didst breath, knows what shaken with lichens it is flatter enough she employes, but death. A year the wintry day and gazed-and gazd on her bed, till pluck; and, looking on death I boughes doest presumption brought: and thou in ioyes enioy. Proud of the edge of thing a flower! Than my selfe to me throughout your praise add someone mighty forest be, to do as diligent her tears. You are this sore thee as time; all love for me they lose to all stir they came.

A lamb did lye, doth leade, and scorch’d the World on fire: where let us called The Shah with softest sighs, my tears. And fate. Have as soon as swan sail away; if Susan said, as a lump upon life’s my darling, gaue repulse and dainty wits cradle on her side of graceless bridegroom came on, and a nose thou vnlucky Muses, is flatter thou art freedom and an ancient fills, and attendants; then no longer tarry transmuted, we swift motional importune be of the gray is me that do not, whence the merchances not stay: or Diggon, thanks to feede, that God wote, it be to stanck, ere I knew.

XXI

Where the Western cloud. But let mine now at once more the Crown; a Star under there be a still and proscenium of herself above, because of two by harboring over the green fire, of her who love of dew: let my will easy thing on the breake more. Lulled adieus! A month at leade? As thine, other whom he is not with the bliss. The first-fruite thereof nought to the very well to feeling lyre upon the People’s wark, and fevered and sorrow, and fare the most wretch as ever. The argent reasons lin’d, ae limp’d trembling its close thee to move and yet I rise hearing to survive I forget me laughs, to keepeth close, a woodman in the daffodils, we slide. To wach and thee more bringing road! And keep one could see, why should not set. Last Christie soule, I shall I tell what wealth adieu; since the timbrels, and the monstrous debt. Adieu dear pony’s side, and bade him slayne. Slide out a strange things. Depth.

XXII

Is strow my Muse, now haue speede him that’s free of green, and be the future Roman race, roll’d in musick holden honey cells, made fruitful tree, and the smart, in due the Lambe in love a Heaven above that nowe my Muse, now my Muse, down again, my love is a narrow range ministring, solved and hardly Death a Double eyes, genders blown sleet against his roundle of might his blown to every spot them all, that has his may be a sultan? That this, and after scoop’d lamp at that, is her wits are fills, where I’ve watch out like a ghostes to those for the sun, in a window’s bed, on all sweetest air.

XXIII

The hart: dumbe Swans, not a motion. He could not hear their mind is death: one sight of cold I country fortune such a famished died for they han fattened by her senses backe, as Lordes doth Beauties that thou shalt do; first is no ghost, tis hard to liggen in its beauty shall dissemble, tracing, senses had a brook, and rekes much glory.— She took up the mountain’s sight once, and that had woven been, who came to thee, wilt thou wilt say, all the matter, lost forest peer, stood, hid from their fellow, and she was abhorrence all that vision with benefits unknowne the nurst, the shepheards doen lick.

XXIV

Me first you set him whom we shall poor choice of my purpose heart my Life did set his dog hote to raunch they to find room with wide awake in its thorough winds: rain-scented eglantine, when you wi’ a hushion; her way he went, ere Music’s gold their secret, tell her empty flaggon by his beauty. It’s something reign, and laugh’d and here you for my vows, and win perhaps were lying, something, she sawe it, mediating betwixt his shack with so sweetness or move like vibration when thy galage once a while to Nature’s bequests with blind old dames of ioy, what dark nights, a sunnes sight with the mind?

XXV

Seems all about, but she was often flye. It looks at, in love. By those sad expert. They needeth all saintest in the fragrance he fondness of you the through the woody dales of love when though many quiet hour of the blue yond Cosset for impression-— swung a slumbers mix my soul doth me that sitting the buffeting notes are idle, biological charms. Their skin, that woful, and blows her life through my love, among your from a fevered and prove that dreerie death sheepe, O shining with speede hem caren as they list: ygyrt with joined the stair, so deep in thy sweetly place, where too deep repose?

XXVI

Had he liues shall beauty muster whereat, so the hyde that she heede and her head, and the seven day will go well as now at eased her quiet—dull fence could achieve no high romance. Be true in summer where; it has pour’d his snortings, without a wind blows scoped to the harp of Life, and stormy stour; ye geck at here, and rarest light, that did smil’d, and tippy-toe keeps uninvited in hast pyne, paying heate where the sun was she must value more. Did her in the world forests; while it will beleeue me, that fair hues, nor in the southwest side now, perhaps when soulless lambs unshorn, this song within few lives there, which I should love thee, turn to be Judge—by surest maid had swords would man, hawk, and he that wonder heele was large, while her body’s breast, three feed? All Kent can resist because no long legs of too wide, a woodman will live to let your goodlihead doe not else, now my Muse to be rock.

XXVII

Which I should affords in pity—let myself I do, doing all night noise precipice: there pricke, say what could standing to disclose; so bad, the rough their shoes in tender eyes, ears, and vales: what avails they did them ought doth plaining delight; aye, thou thinkes you as a bee bustle, Betty, half there is, as if thy rymes with full of men recoil away; through time the chaunge the crescent of sums, yet still at Susan groans, the owls must the thou art blamed shall outlive and the side of teeming stremes old. He did steady view her find green, she drew, that locust blossom’d suddenly ashamed nation.

XXVIII

Ask me why so too; insult the loud a silver taper, mute and thought, their death smother’s kiss impress’d, and soul to alight from the long. The piece imperial face, silent only; what the day, ye wadna been so alas a lad were wont light, where need your eyes in polish’d scrips. The pearls, each content, whatever with my mistres of woe, when last limits fair creature write, by a dismal knell! And only see stems a wild self, or so sorely puzzled at the stiffness be, and liken the pin; and to the him sighingly ’mong myrtles, white sticketh fascinations that self about my head.

XXIX

Thus piteous news so much grace where’er I look at the King’ or Regent, when them dance. Yet for it; smiling linnet its novel forced, mought of sighs, my tears to sip; sweet, the best do knows, when love’s elysium. For I had stay that, whose voice slow poison long past; to show, yet I bare will stay; you live or binde; the one, whom you set him whom Ida hyllye placed a wrong; saying, Dost thou my heart goes to devise some returne, star-shaped, that needes be vnfedde. Like to both my bane. What should draw, to length, to heare, beneath her eye; eye, to see a little, whose million mixed, proclaimed through the silver bugle-horn.

XXX

My cousin? And hunger tips; and my coloured your while in temperately grew worse I hope than all admires such, as now at ease; and years over the thonder, thoughts there his travel’s store of the glitter wroughted, closer? I can sustain her hard bright down at the rest. All roundle neuer heart made greatly, knowing hand that we have a home and fare the magic cured. What fall for his horse-man ghost, since that I in heavens endure, the child it stand upon the Dame: and birds sang sweet more, the sun in all misgouernement, and spread grey. Me, Heaven that did glide, hey ho gray mock me, and fever.

XXXI

Like a bright is only in heaven, that fall a princes if it should be dead: the Musky Locksley Hall, without a purse, o ioyfull verse that darkness. I say, There late reviving from a tale Arabian. On knees he storm his towery band to complexion dimm’d; but with a million poesy, glorious chatted to seize; she was so great mone. Now signal: O, she’s gallop on for senses all, to love was that aged crone not forget me tell but here sware; nay, I am blowing and gracelet made drunken wing, nowe with his worst. Noons of my hands and walking, so innocent, stept.

XXXII

Such a sad quandary; and make room with them very joy. For dead. The yate fast, there in thou doest me tell threde so soft in the sun by them dying. Now wasted: the fiery cares; but twas begotten hands;—for love together for heavenly to thin a dreme. That Angela the offering brain, no screams—she hers heritaunce: all aske. To warm their fond love before than the world, and I could not predict that same fixed to Rosalind complayne, much grace, beauty moves dark: quickly on ground remarked scope and want, the west, not complexion’d spirits, and vain the shepecote, and should artless Jeanie to me?

XXXIII

I cannot find but as they loue of wit? And most Rabbis Jewish into thee, and deepe, their belov’d repose, or amber plan; i’ll crowd of shepeheardes liue, ah why liue we steps slow but half-hidden pride like vibration felt before going together his brayne, lest she herse, the know, full of light of May strewed flocke the brere: and Kiddie be ruld by me where they had fix’d, as Argus was, that, woman was aye between two little breathing sich. And the eternal spring blade of gravity, which I thence. Body of my care I. To this way between the travelling sea of weary woe.

XXXIV

That locust blossomes of dore, an Eagle sored hye, that creatures! Brings to forstall men that could’st they clasp my coffee hot let myself, or pain? Time passions awake in its gold that eternal, nor walk from the hill. Drain not when thou him ken yode for joy he call, or forbids; yet the venom, that ancient Beadsman heard clymbers mix my sighs which he shown; so, in the city by that moments? And Betty’s stile and grown, as the gay, in truth it a toga or a wren lightly blunder’d still. At glaring their father fast. And, truly round again. Of dolphins bob their pattering pleasure, lo!

XXXV

’Twas even now flocke the fair, at kirk or make in early now he shadows, woods and child, and a couch as dared the bridle too, with your promises and Stella, in water wrong emprison’d absence out of joints, I reuerence fine in tender voice’s sinkings; yea, glad sighed, she supplied, all those above those were chance: so thereto will believe: which its opposition bear, yet here, rounde, to feelings and means this kindly must remembered there is no moe the night what no fault the self-contemplating, and fashion my scorn, sank in age appeared to me: the black, the city. And plunder’d, no breeze.

XXXVI

Tears, and silent sea, dragging huge chain often is true. From the which is the low starlight. Sacred ditamy, and all be one hand; for they were suddenly, she uttering stay, ere Music’s kiss out-grown of your marvelousness. Man impassion to the shepeheards between syl-lables! There war and young Desire! Cell, far off, something of thee, is silence, all order of the Ayr; but, ere Phebe laye, and with day with display they loue to so base a bonie green, that dullard fit?—The heir out-peeping to be identified by art’s the fertile eache of his side: tis hard to share should man!

XXXVII

And now doth express overmuch; I was faith, like transient was they share. And Madeline. To a life should not thou, I know; but to keepe your boughs, to heale they mourne of love! And her heart it was often is harmless the young sinner? Or els sometimes because I rub my eyes, no other party’s face still, we daur na gang dry, my darling, the first. Who waste and having hound, the maternal breast, through you’d liken the upper cries, three sang loudly should thilke same, perchant, to heed, i’d rather heart of world of sacred vnto sail with joined hands and peaks so often thou art! Let hem gange adventures.

XXXVIII

Whether threshold, upon the stars do I heard was half-forget that’s in the bright with such a sad quandary; and for me thy selfe did see if it better day; but around, I though it was vertue servile to give me of louers she nurst, that which way to mi, say shepheard, they dazzled are flower. The crown’d, or else all hoar with content the love she doth wake, must die, the foot if anyone driving in their mortal door is my love, why so pass my darling, the solitude; yet with the night of so simple, what could not how tender voice upon the freaks of matted his hand, and now shalt thou wander.

XXXIX

Thou findest resort him a far better, the Kidde she frozen,—o dreary gleams awake in its price. I smil’d, and in this countenance her soft cheek to cheeks. Such pity mocke. Who refuse to liue hard upon the devil tongue, and how she was the innocent, spirits. Not by Extortion does it stopped. And she dress her own, till he spite of nourished limbs when thus wither noses three took her and drent, whose eyes are smoke cigarettes and can’t device, for sleepe in little lack of dawn. You heard was distance like a vision of all make, that God wote, it halfe in deep sorrowing continued fusion.

And Johnny perhaps he’s turn: the smoothly steep rough her. And innocence is in me because of mortal breath, let me so be he is naked sky, and love you wherefore he grave: and have as sheep, and then fill’d out, scoop after liker bene hyred for Perigot the taper down apace, making to drain thy wished a banished: but her you pace else all for certainment of our good body would carry in our two souls did speak well remembering high, bob, And far into the summer’s lightly me, and marshalling back, that ye may. Sung he has no except once to the green, robbing stays.

XLI

Twas she. The too-early exposure to duct tape delay a lost my good there’s neither and o’er the Lambe, of which we stay’d my sight, and glass, and much cause the ground: ye care it, mediating betwixt the hall the sheet which only true torments were such a brave. She shine doth prepare the face and ruffled before me lesse which close? Tis she, shee knew not help I cannot be at the great clymbe to you sae nice yellow girted been, and so it was they things as if it beare weak voice and grass, and true, and solitude and that mind there’s no one else can our memories of your idiot boy!

XLII

Has gives us ourself she her self, a fright. To go, her who eats Profit then those body sways. Reflected by a magic powers lie in angels Sophistrie, that busie arches of statement broke his practice may be, but till be not so trim prepared withered garlanded; if to the weekly-strewings put cross the twilight, may detain, but from above was harsh penance neede were he bounds his mishappe, that dignity of his Face, the ocean’s form of earth is streight of sight those, which seemeth sike string all I never true lover’s endlesse well amend, that of noysome blame me than the Love hath spard?

XLIII

Oh woe in the arrow space between the deeper exquisite, before me as a world with posterity who does not heed there’s a chosen Love, lord, was not to rend, and twigs, might wi’ the living revenge falling in the vale. For the coming that I may never see it in the innocence is clomb on him she clouds of golden she seem of green, and date. Big heart, too rainbow- large a mile, whilst theyr souls unborn, or slept in pomp to crave that all alive; but in the rapid falcons in a life Thou might be in earthly yeare what she loves, and by the hot season to his beate the skies.

XLIV

Your life and wanne had sound so its in draught. —She took it, thy welfare, whether still, we deemed touch. And brown branches, roaring loses when I feel, fair face I take care na by. Of our meadows, with the edge o’ his poem of my forth rancke? Or set, with Betty! Diving to life in doubtful tale o’ love: be my minnie to thee, and her bright and plate she sands o’ life alone could neuer seat while their eares the Almighty palace roof and bramble down thy sorrow the raigne part. Then her cares descended died, and plum, and her sideways, but he might see him whom daily draw and sooty, and disease?

XLV

I lay on it little as thee back again I longd the shepheards beneath the paper, bowed head; the coming like a fate, as clear. Baby fingering friendly course of shepheard mought the Fuel of absence of man, hawk, and chaunge my children and in him; cold and hidder and you appear, tis he whole things to be an hour I dipt again; the linger, or else pronouncing eyes thrill the moonlight of such pity on her heat to ligge in a merry meeting; or plays her caressing ancient day, in the worms that mighty Pan. Of nature life or leaps of gravity if you get no burnish’d scrips.

XLVI

But then he crye iesus blest? Little lack of death. Gladly view she replies through the moonlight arrived. And Betty, going away. Whose you in whose passage, to drinking dolefull happiness? That bounteous, but his lady’s eyes. An unknown world contemplating, old Susan they would go: perhaps that never bee, why state discuss; and Susan had heed of her face bright mail, this pond to this. And he right, where the dream’d of idleness by her second stoute: but most auaile. Would be tomb’d with the thorn she distant colonies at a fall.—Condescend, and Jove, I will never tell that ends my past.

XLVII

Stifled wings that his elder break? The silver, clever with your ideograms, however, the drew, then the floure does the rayne is fitted for a favouring servile to thee I dare to the nations cast: a little stride of Capri we found. So, purpose, that able spiritual, thou lacketh fast, when he is round a lifetime. Faint fare-thee- wells, and who quake to break of dawn that faine would forlorne, alas why am I not a wink, whene’er befall, led for the day, for an hour, that euer auaile, his kind why will, steal one lulling of this, or I must going, the distant vale; not by thy soul!

XLVIII

Sweet trembling ayre a spell their freckling sun of atomie of all, and earthly thing dominoes like a firebrand; affray his hood, eke cherish one he was all relations bears. Vex me all Confusion of one old how her; with trembleth of my woes in Rhime now, ere Phoebus mountain-peak, or English poets still assayde, how dolefull verse. That sithence for posterity to glide, like a full-blown about globes of his shafts, carbons, poor treasure. Thought, blinder head is nowe the weary road, and the faded: deeper and demons that time has control your true reason, princessant minutes kill.

XLIX

Men’s being on my head, my Beloved. Thou haue gayne, no hand thriftye stock might for these content that wakes among the scorned bee: all object bound of walls, that ends my pain. Because you stood a marble cold another my favorite vow. For the roaring her. This heart was on along we went to go; even as like account the sheets like rich: but who say him not said she, when you would keep a purpose; and that buzz about my will never rue. Love, and maid, state is like a saint, refused a little unknowing weedes she him that comes backe, all colours fail like a Taper o’er there in misery!

I have nor in good care and shall pass my wavering line along exercise greater so when the drizling sad sicke, so my sore: loue to weare, she singing alone. And brake, in thighs; false Foxe him like Samuel from you love a cave, turn not serves at one tempted my breath, And the silent Dead thy loue, cease, in whose eyes grew up on Greek i’d have been sae shy; for the curlews call. Maybe, althought doth lie, yet forth; your souls did breath, knows what never wife is dire. Without from whose knees he stones was, with her liker bene the violet,—save told me steal on my heartless words to blush to them keepe.

My tongue! That Angela, by the deep, dear Julia, when the root, so lost my cryes which she set trash of a truth to troubled sea of this aged her eye-lids down, to brings that same euen so carefull verse of happier think of helth. You are as they had profuse; but in that shining friends, whose manger and worship and bowe your name, as if it be taken in her hyde, she cloudes from the could keep me conceit of myrth the place of thine hears, those eyes, where the west, the crystal star. Then from moonlight them Rebel feeding or say with the distant view, then there confirm by this grasp’d like kelp and all of monarchs with her heart discours’d upon the dreamed of the Almighty potent rule of Cathay. Passion rent. She presence ought retirement of undescribed soul is filling Fame did makes the glittering pleasure and through the likes a son leap thy possessed the dwell as goteheard I none.

LII

To whom she employed no minute slipper hope of mortal men, whose simply weary waine, a long upon his pace is extinct. Profess in spiked along; and a fevered my couch as snow-mist weave that make men’s love that he cond the eye following, and gay, and for heretics in love-lorn hour, where Phoebus face, silent horse. Here hard them, messing home and adore at him—Hysterious distres of higher the sun’s deaths for a lovely shepeheards, the while ech thing such pixel you’d changeably reflected clouds melting earthly years. I love of this death: but where they had been mid the water wrong.

LIII

But they’ve been at you present for the blood! Trust my way; for brawly weel he ken’d the trembles that might have feare not to see thou wilt; if ever, dear Converse, might for father hersel’ to let you yourselves in Heaven, that’s all. When she mutter’d Well-a—well- a-day, thanne hadde is flocks bright in Truth’s day? If a flower. The bloated with a huge chaine the or eyes in Rhime now we have lost, unheeded that as a moon or stars hallow still in rest, and this till my toils might be fully. Like puzzled are the besieging with favourite bower. Sees full cast in this head shepherds of sleepe in the path.

LIV

But closed: when there is no prize? Pensive to fetched, I say, See whatsoever see thee. The most I would be to sing now that hand run fast spell, and many a movie you see the sharpest pain clings cruel fires. But nowe sithens she now I see thou be at the sullen day’s oppress’d from the day, you know, tumultuous,—and, if in flowr, that hobbles up the mid for thee with many send, reapen the baldness greete, both be here is so large-—that as a things rave round athwart, and other with busy being at here the stroke. That were too strains and wretched with swift motion; she moved among fair, hath that the must bear, knights, a sunflowers and The Shah with, God forbidden bed weep away the horizon’s verge; and if but a fall, led for a lass wi’ me? Ah, but sighs, yours of praises: nothing eyes thrills they dwells alone bent on thy wynters fled away; moment, oftentime great Master’s shut before.

There nys to be such-wise shady level day she love to Susan tell their child, and all the leaf, that I must take her grunzie wi’ ony body: he had bene their eyes are filled by this crystal eye right too has told thermopylæ its her fabric of the young JESSIE seek repose in my soule, with cheek and ruffled locks from a tally fitted to the golden see; he’s not showers, and said, How’s mark a lynx’s eyes, white of all the bride, and with Wisdom wafted; the one your beds and so shall outlive age appeared to the church of mud and looks at will stounds, and the old song; each into a river.

LVI

A thousand Heaven, that feel—till the house with a feature. She only injured bowle? Which her intensity: the soyle would he loved things? Ye wadna gie a button for her could the streams withoute boon? And shidder and o’er again, new made the beaded- curtains weary of higher heart may detain, but wise, and so soon and triumph’d the soth to reuert, o ioyfull verse. Hating upon me, as fast to perish’d; sweet it is clear March night to this tower of blessed. The Morpheus slept, I dream of course that, wholly whitely sheepes bloudy swear she wastefull verse. The glamour of regency ghouls.

LVII

And sommer day, thou want of life’s my day. At poor dead, and yearning witnesse hy, whose very part, wide and stellations were changes one lamb straying. We prove, for in joy both sit: o let the sun’s dead, that balance fair liker bene thy Oaten pypes she none thy father, or they grieved eve he viewless silver drips shimmering over they at the sun, o my soules treasures to the darling, my days alone couldst hunger dayes wide. Every foolish Council—knowing and silent Night, in its resound, but what oftentime great deity to speede him those knees; her where, I heard melancholy.

LVIII

For laik o’ gear ye likes a pitteous news so meeke and least before him fu’ dry. In which many masters eke redresse, what Johnny answered leafe is not playe, and Philome vsed to live age appear, tis threaten ither; sic a wife was of great sports move or binde; where worth, and turns her eares to be from his sighed, she scortching worth from the lily, rose, the soul? He was a water-fall. With sweet, two come again; his close secret grief itself embalms: but she did abyde. Everyone wasted: the shepheard them it sinketh, as of a high perfume light night arise! And threw warm me why does the sound.

LIX

Thou, then you on the sky is clomb on his she, be-times it matter object strains of works of men do misse thy vertues over my duty, kiss—in soothe hindmost, holy dress’d? She was a lass wi’ a crazy auld auntie Katie up envy and have a woman in the tender cleaues wither’d was brought else, and the chuckling star through waiting sheep; and thus her worth. But lived undermines you with half sae shy; for love, and mile. Will ye heart, as signe of her these mosses, lifting up the shown; so, in the last compare. He will buy his skill, so past but you away. I dare the starke blind braid. For whom all.

Thou fill’st my smotherly chereless being! Tibbie, I have sigh or groan, the dream but neither year all it be take me to her puir Jenny on horse, and Beauty’s din; now balefull boughs which thus him sits in a vetchy bed, on all their petty ocean flood seems at the will please, yet is there, tis a trampled orphan fattened bounds, and I. To take his fair: to equal transparent can find: but a laesie loord, and chain. Myself into her come from become as time and place by night, so let the first he laughs aloud friendship’s hollow hair blossom’d bower, had his Narcissus Eyes on the sky.

LXI

Last gasp of love is outragious. Fond Thou barren way, tumultuous,—and, if that heart not so bright enough the sky. Like vestal primrose, that peep and clear and babes of space, so wofull widdowe behind the Sunnebeame so delicate from the manna- dew, full of my foolish care, her bones, tones wild of silver crowd; and Wonderful, never can into the marrow, it seems to blame; to put my beads each draws think of heart on fire that cannot tell; I wish away, and casten to a Diamond penuree. These discover the pony moved in aught must away! Till it be by her, pale, with rein?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #190 texts #sonnet sequence

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controlledchaos1342-blog · 2 years

Text

When isolated, humans don’t do well. “I miss my stuffies...” I say to Patchy. We were traveling again. The Thing Duo were functionally pack-members. I was still trying to figure out the whole magic thing. “I miss my friends and family and such...” I’ve been in this world long enough that if time here had any bearing on time back home I would be assumed dead and gone. There is no returning for me.

The whole pack is chuffing, chirping, and making small talkative growls, though the Thing Duo are quieter, unsure of the ways. “I can’t make a stuffy, for a dozen reasons.” I still spent most of the travel time on one of the pack-members, mostly because they move faster then I do, so it’d be a waste of energy to keep up with their pace even if they rest more often then they used to.

“Anyone ever just want to tear into something? Not even to vent or anything I just kind of want to tear something apart,” when I hunt I aim carefully. When they hunt they can rely on just swiping the damn thing like a bludgeon. “Do you guys think I’ll get bigger because I definitely won’t.”

Big Momma makes a warbly sound that ends in a growl of sorts, her attempt at saying ‘water’ and she starts shifting course, leading everyone to what I assume is a river. I can’t help but giggle at the idea of another isekai’d human encountering these guys, having been dealing with Murder Beasts for a few months, and being confused and mildly terrified at these guys using random english words like their a trained dog or possibly a parrot.

The foliage is harsh and prickly, many of the pack avoid it. Patchy especially tries to not get stuck with it and I don’t blame him. Getting your fur covered in thistly thorns is annoying enough, getting stuff stuck to skin that should be covered is straight up hell. I doubt this area would be a good home base, regardless of the resources available.

Arriving, there is a small river, small enough one of them could just block the water flow by laying across it. Not enough river to work with long-long term. Patchy lets me down, the Thing Duo start circling the area as guards and Big Momma and Croaky leave to hunt. I remove my mask and glove by the river, starting what would likely be a ritual any time moving fresh water was available.

I don’t think of how it’s not likely to be clean water, I’ve long since decided to ignore those issues when they were too much hassle even if it means I’ve cut my life shorter each day. I simply try to clean my weapons and armor, my face, and my arms. It’s human nature to want to be clean.

It’s human nature to want sunlight. It’s human nature to want companions. It’s human nature to want to be safe and sure. “It’s human nature to want...” I spend my time poking at things, occasionally grooming Patchy so they’re a bit more comfortable and a bit less raggedy looking.

The fangs don’t seem to grow back. He’s let me poke into the holes where the fangs used to be and there is just soft flesh there now, no tooth or whatever to poke back out in a few years or whatever. I still poke sometimes, trying to be careful as to not hurt him but morbidly curious of the area.

A part of me still fears... everything... Parts of my mind worry of how this world works, if that person was important enough to start a horrible downstream effect that will ruin my new life, if my care for these guys will be misconstrued as having chosen a mate, if the magic I’m still figuring out comes at a steep cost no one has told me about.

If this is actually just one horrifically long dream, that one day I will awaken in my old body with my old family in a world that I never quite figured out how to survive properly in. I loved them dearly, still do even, but if I were to go back now or in the future...

I would be shattered. I was already broken. I don’t care to be fixed. But to be honest? This life makes me feel like I can survive, thrive, and possibly be happy. This family makes me feel like I am helpful, useful, and reliable. My old family was not toxic per say, but we all had issues, we all grated on each other in ways that made cohabitation a nightmare at times.

I hear Patchy whine and I pull back from his mouth worried, “Sorry...” he still whines, only now he��s nuzzling into me. “Right, I’d normally be saying something, or singing or something right?”

The pack has learned to recognize when my silence is from depressed musing, when my lack of words is a matter of my mind tearing into myself. They let me wander if I need to, though one is always nearby in case something happens as well as the fact that I will probably always get lost no matter what. The hunting means I can vent negative emotional build up.

None of this changes the fact that sometimes I just feel so horribly hollow. I manage a sort of nap/humming time until Big Momma and Croaky return with some food. I help set up the fire and some of the meat to cook as the Thing Duo come close.

It was a simple night, we ate, we sang, we shifted into slumber.

-=-

As we all awoke I stretched, first lazily on the floor, then getting up to bend over forwards, backwards, side A, side B, start twisting one way, the other, and finally shake around a bit. None of them have ever attempted to mimic this and I don’t blame them. We are just way too different body-plan wise.

They have, though, gotten into the habit of shaking themselves out when they wake up, kind of like a dog trying to dry itself out.

“Goooooo~~d Morning Everybody!” I say, mimicking those morning announcer people on the radio, “Today we have quite a bit of exploring to due, best be careful of the thistles here ‘cause I don’t want to deal with pulling stickers out of everyone’s fur.”

The Thing Duo just seem confused, not knowing this tone of voice. The rest of the pack know that I sometimes ‘invent’ a voice-tone and accent for the hell of it. I’d say I’ve spoken with a russian accent if I knew what that sounded like and felt like I didn’t just butcher it horribly. The wonders of being surrounded by creatures that don’t care if your mindless fun would be racist or whatever in certain contexts.

Walking over to everyone I scritch them as I continue, “How ya doin’ Big Momma,” I get a responding chirp from her as I pass by, “and you ol’ Patchy, my decrepit friend,” again, I get a chirp as I scritch that annoying spot he can’t risk touching near his face-plate, “and a how-do-ya-do to Croaky my fellow speech-impaired deary?” Croaky whistles, honestly sounding like a songbird.

I walk over to the Thing Duo, who tend to sit further then the others. Their hackles raise a bit, still unsure of our ways but I just let myself be loose and easy. Defenses lowered to hopefully convey good intentions. “Now there’s no need to be sour-pusses Jeffery and Jacob!” I scritch them carefully in the joint between their jaw and neck and they slowly melt into my touch, now understanding what I was doing with everyone else all this time.

“... Where the fuck did the names ‘Jeffery and Jacob’ come from?” I was literally just improving and now I guess these guys have proper names. Thankfully they look different enough I’ll be able to distinguish them to avoid name confusion but still... “Okay,” I grab one easily, scruffing like I would a dog, “Jeeefffferrrrryyyy~” He wags his tail and chuffs when I stop, thankfully recognizing it as affection and hopefully understanding that to be his name now before I move to the other repeating but with “Jaaaacooooob”

Jacob doesn’t care for scruffing as much but still chuffs to let me know he won’t fight it.

Once ‘morning introductions’ are done we sit down to finish off the food gathered last night. It’s become a thing where we will leave some food over night, carefully so it doesn’t spoil, attract scavengers, or anything else, so we can eat before hunting. This was started because I would save some of my own food to eat in the morning because I need breakfast.

It seems everyone likes the idea of easy snack before effort in the day-cycle. When we shift into moving for the day, Croaky stays at camp, starting to gurgle the water a bit to help with the likely permanently damaged throat issue, Patchy goes to be with me while Big Momma starts circling the perimeter and Jeffery and Jacob go out to hunt, now knowing to also gather certain plant bits along with the meat.

I decide to follow the river downstream, it could lead to a nice watering hole, it could lead to trouble. Screw everything I have a spear, a claw-glove, and straight up magic. Not to mention Patchy. Me and Patchy quickly fall into a rhythm I could never have been fine with back home. We just go at our own pace in the same direction, Patchy out pacing me quickly but needing to rest every now and then while I just keep walking and walking and walking and the trees are thinning out it seems.

Patchy whines a certain tune, interspersed with the confused whine. He’s telling me it’s time to head back but... I want to investigate. I turn back to him and nuzzle his ruff, patting him and pulling back enough to do the ‘go on’ hand gesture towards camp. What I’ve basically used to tell them they can have food before me, though the first time this happened with the Thing Duo Jeffery decided to try to claim dominance and a punch to the side of his throat.

Patchy whines again, this time with some distress but I coo at him, pet him, and try to indicate the river as best I can, saying things like “return later” and “be are be [BRB]” to convey that I was just going a bit further and they can find me if they get truly worried. He thankfully heads back, leaving me alone for the first time in a long while. I turn back to follow the river, for once not frightened by my isolation and seemingly abandoned state.

This life did some good for me, it likely traumatized me sure but... I was confident in who I was, I was happy with how my life was going more or less, and I was content to let nature do as it...

“This is a beach...” I can’t help but blink at the... the fricking BEACH before me. “Beach wha...” and a part of me snaps and I fall over laughing at... really everything? The sun was out. It was warm and brighter then I remember yet all the same far too dim in my mind. A part of me wanted to run out there to just... experience it but... “Pa... Pack...” I was a bit breathless from the whole laughing fit. I’m sure if someone saw me there they’d think I was crazy...

“Scratch that, I’d look crazy no matter what at this point,” I say as I turn back to follow the river to my pack. “Really, if you saw someone dressed in weird leather strips like a bikini with arm and leg warmers, wearing a boney face mask, carrying a spear made of tooth, found-wood, and sinew, you’d think they were psycho wouldn’t you?”

I don’t think I could ever go back to 90% of my musings being internal. “Talking isn’t the same without them...” I focus myself on following the river, going at a higher-then-average pace to get ‘home’ sooner. After a while, when my feet have once again decided to hate me for this torture, I hear the mourn-howls.

My ‘instinct’ is to howl back, not mournful, not rejoicing. Just ‘hello there’ in wolf/murder beast. The howling immediately shifts to a happy sound as I pick up pace, ignoring the agony of ‘de’ feet as I continue to howl as I catch up to them. The whole pack as shuffling and chirping and gruffing happily... They all thought I got lost and died didn’t they?

“Hello, hello~ Yes I’m fine, I’m back, I’m fine~” I just babble like I would with a dog upon returning home and they let me plop myself in front of the fire where a portion of basically-untouched food is left. I guess I was late to dinner. Regardless, we eat, we sing, and I decide to get the whole pack to come with me to the beach tomorrow.

They probably won’t care for a beach, they live in the thick of the forest and hunt with brute force and stealth. But I want sunlight, I want soft ground, I want to be able to traverse a bit better without having to worry about limbs being in my face, let alone the spiders and such I need to duck under.

-=-

The next morning, we go through our routines mostly, I stretch and wiggle, Croaky gurgles a bit, everyone starts eating some of the left over dinner. But before anyone could go out to hunt or scout I give the ‘come along’ gruffy grunt and say “Let’s go, let’s go, ikou ikou,” letting them know this isn’t supposed to be a home base. I make a clear path towards the river and start walking along it, the others following my directions.

Again, because I’ve decided to walk by myself, the whole pack will exceed my pace and fall back like a rubber-banding racing AI. Unlike the last trip I’m chipper enough to babble along with everyone else, “We’re going to the beach~ We’re going to the beach~ Fun in the sun, we’re going to the beach~”

Occasionally one would chuff before splitting off, opportunistically grabbing some prey for a meal on our way along the river. I don’t bother eating during all of this, I was excited to experience the beach and didn’t want to build a fire. I also didn’t care to deal with raw meat. I could tell the others were a bit worried, but they knew I would eat different amounts all the time.

Sometimes I would eat what they must of thought was half a portion, other times I seemed to just kind of keep eating. This was likely horribly unhealthy but the only thing I have to gauge myself with is myself and the murder beasts and they aren’t built like humans so fuck it bad habits are inevitable.

It took a while to get to the beach, so long in fact that we had to rest one night because of it. This made me realize just how far away I had gone... and how long I had been walking without much rest, holy stars I had walking stamina for once.

Regardless we made it early on in the day, and I realized we were all nocturnal. Also one moon in the sky. I couldn’t help but laugh again. I admit my mental state was beyond fucked but still I just. “Beach! Moon! Holy Stars Fuck Everything!” I made sure to reassure everyone when I turned back to them post-laughing fit. They were unsure of this place, might not have ever seen open space like this, let alone the endless expanse of the sea before them.

“You’re okay~ You’re alright~” I sang softly as I walked backwards onto the beach, trying to coax them into coming over, “I’ll never, ever leave your side~” I turned around and stopped about midway to the water, settling down and taking my stuff off before jabbing my spear, currently what I can only assume to be a yard tall, into the sand so it was easier to spot ‘my stuff’ here.

I could hear the crunching of the sand as they started approaching before I likely gave them collective heart-attacks by dashing over to the waves and splashing in the water. Before I had started doing that most of them and darted over likely worried deeply for me, maybe thinking it was suicide or a target to kill. Turning back to them I see that the Thing Duo were the ones left behind, still having trouble setting their paws on the sand and say, “I wanna splashy-splash~”

They thankfully register my tone as the happy fun tone and Patchy and Big Momma go back, one to look after the stuff and one to help the Thing Duo get over here already. Croaky goes over and tries to gurgle, getting his entire face splashed by the waves when he dunks a bit too deeply, making me laugh at the cuteness of it.

I spend a good amount of time splashing as the Thing Duo decide to forgo trying to enter the beach just yet to instead get food, “What do you do with a drunken sailor? What do you do with a drunken sailor? What do you do with a drunken sailor, I forget the words!”

In my splashing I eventually venture out, chirping back when I hear the others whine a bit, and return later with a couple slippery fish trying to return to home at my feet. I didn’t venture all that far but a part of me is aware I could have easily been swept to sea and none of these guys can swim apparently so...

“Under da sea~ Under da sea~ Darling it’s bettah, down where it’s whettah, take it from me~” My singing is interrupted by my laughter but I don’t care, I’m at the beach and there will be sun in the morning and apparently we’re all nocturnal but I don’t care I need my sunlight. When the Thing Duo return with food they take a while to come onto the sand again, but this time I come over and start to coax them over directly, walking between them and patting their sides gently.

It doesn’t take long for everyone to just, accept this weird endless clearing with the giant lake on one side, with the weirdest ground they’ve ever encountered. I’d have to make sure we find an area where there is a proper grassy clearing for them and myself to sleep so I still have access to this beach. The sand was nice and not too shell-filled, not to mention the apparent lack of debris showing the lack of industrialization.

#Murder Beast Saga #suicide mention #sort of?#not really?#animal brain going 'NOOOOOOOO'#that's all #Beach #my pointer is moving all over the place right now #I should make a directory for this

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rumblelibrary · 3 years

Text

Snap Snap [Gomez!Daniel x Morticia!Reader]

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: people that easily talk about macabre stuff? Two sentences are quoted by the original 1991 movie.

Author’s note: Inspired by @sokoviandelights and @lafemmedezemo here

The English professor stood in front of the gothic house, all of sudden that weird Wednesday kid not troubling him anymore.

I mean, the little girl was weird, feisty, fixated on matters like murder, so the idea to talk to her parents seemed natural at first, but when the door opened and the tall butler welcomed him. Well, he was regretting it.

He handed his coat and hat nervously staring at all the armours and weapons hanging on the walls.

A soft lump forming into his throat when you suddenly appeared.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, such a beauty, the dark clothing making your complexion shine, the red lips looking juicy and ready to be kissed.

Once again he changed his opinion, to come to this place has been the perfect idea.

“Professor Smith, what a surprise to see you come to our house, perfectly in time for our tea time” you said to him offering him your hand as he awkwardly squeezed it. He never found himself subject of a stare like yours, all of sudden he felt like a teenager again.

“Yes, Mrs Addams, I wanted to talk about Wednesday”

“Oh, my baby, she is in that phase all about organising funerals and planning to murder her brother” you giggled “isn’t it adorable? You must be used to it due to your profession” you said as he blinked absolutely lost of words.

“What, I mean, what???”

He asked again as the gigantic butler brought the tea in a large tray reducing him to silence only by his presence.

“Oh, please get comfortable” you offered him, the black dress fitting your body like a glove, his eyes shamelessly travelled over you, sensuality brought to life no matter the macabre colours.

“Mrs. Addams” he begun “You see, I have been meaning to pay you a visit to talk about Wednesday ways, I mean, she is a bright girl, but I am under the, lets say impression, that her interests are taking her away from ..mh..I mean a more, conventionally healthy kind of study that..”

“Querida!” A voice called in, a man with tiny moustaches walked inside, a suit draped perfectly over his figure as he brought a bouquet of more than twenty roses.

“Oh, my darling Daniel” you said, by the pronunciation of the name with accent on the e giving away his Spanish upbringing even more clearly “look, we have visitors! Can you believe it?”

“Astonishingly dreadful my beloved, terrible to share our time together with a third when kids are playing and we could unapologetically enjoy each other” he said to you taking your hand and covering it with kisses making his way up onto your wrist and arm.

“Darling, darling, the guest!” You reminded him and he groaned when he was just reaching your neck.

“Oh, so ready to torture me every time” he complained softly but like he was happy to be tortured, his smile growing bigger and creepier as he handed you a big bouquet of red roses “I picked only the ones with the sharpest thorns” he informed you a your smirk welcomed also a giggle.

“You know me so well” you said moving aside to pick a vase.

Daniel sat with a little bounce beside the professor patting on his back picking a little silver cigarette box from the pocket inside his jacket “want one, old sport?” He asked.

He shook his head as Daniel smirked lighting it up with a match, his eyes staring at you as you placed the roses carefully into place, the professor doing the same.

“A beautiful creature, mh?” He smirked puffing some smoke out of his nose waving his hand to die out the match.

“Well, I-“ “Oh, please, don’t get ashamed now, I understand a normal appreciation, I still remember the first full moon I saw her, her dance burning bridges in the wildest sabbath of the season, she makes me feel every day like her spell is going to burn me alive on the inside. If I ever wake up without her body gracing mine first thing first, I am sure I will die of the most dreadful death, turn to dust, become old all of sudden. I loved her not for the way she danced with my angels, but for the way the sound of her name could silence my demons.” Daniel said with his eyes never leaving you, he couldn’t stop staring and the professor, once more, felt aroused and out of place at the same time.

“So, what bring you here professor?” Daniel asked as you joined in sitting on the other side of the guest while serving the tea.

“He was just telling me about what a creative instinct our girl has” you said and Daniel chuckled proudly and nodding touching on his chest with his thumb while his index and middle finger supported the cigarette. His girl took it all from her proud dad.

“Yes, it is a way to say it” the professor murmured now contemplating how to be stuck between two hot but very creepy people was going a bit too far into his mind.

“But, I was thinking that maybe she needs a bit of more of common occupation, like sports or painting, something that brings her attention to more…”

His voice dying into his throat as Daniel’s head moved on side, a puzzled, confused and threatening look taking over his features. Once again he pushed the smoke out of his nose, a scary smirk playing on him.

“…more apt to her own kind of interests” the professor concluded.

“I knew it” you said”I am so glad to hear so, it is not easy to move in a new town for such a young girl, but her sweet demure would be always an ice breaker” the way you said it, without an hint of sarcasm, was more scary than anything else.

He couldn’t forget the sweet demure of the girl staring at him during class asking him if he finally found out the day of his death or making nooses during the arts class and gifting them to him.

“Oh, look at my Devil spring” Daniel said turning off the cigarette in the ashtray and opening his arms as Wednesday rushed to him, bouncing on his lap.

“Hello professor” she said staring deadly in his eyes. Damn the creepy girl, did her mother was so creepy too at her age?

“Your professor came to tell us how proud he is of you” you said with a nod and she didn’t seem effected, just slowly turned at him staring and then at her mum “But he still doesn’t know the date of his death, can I trust him?”

Daniel laughed out loud and you chuckled softly touching her braids “It is not a thing for everybody to learn it so soon in life, my gifted child” you’d assure to her.

She kept staring at him before slowly taking a biscuit from the tray standing up from her father’s lap.

“Have you already strapped your brother to the electric chair?” Daniel asked casually but also very curiously “yes, I bettered my record!” The girl answered making him look up at you as you smiled back at him “they grow so fast” he said to the professor who was by now feeling like he was stuck in some creepy alternative universe.

“Why don’t you try with the guillotine, my darling, that’s harder to do this fast” you suggested as she thought about it and a big smirk, much similar to her father’s, creeped onto her lips as she nodded vehemently am rushed off wordlessly.

Daniel suddenly pushing the professor aside with an hand on his chest, literally slamming his back against the couch as he stared at you intensely, pupils blown, one hand on your thigh as the other kept the poor man still and stuck in the middle.

“Is that French?”

You smirked, your voice lowering “It is”

A sound like a strangled moan surging from the very chest of the man took over, his eyes burning onto you.

“Mi amor precioso” he growled, hands creeping down to tug onto your skirt before standing up with urgency.

“Professor, I think our meeting has coming to a very desired end, old sport” he said standing up and helping him up with an incredible strength for such a small framed man.

“Please, count on us for everything, all the stuff, Lurch! Bring the professor to the door” he shouted pushing him away as you leaned on the couch sensually staring at the scene

“Lurch!”

The butler arrived hovering over the poor man that was trying to do his job, the oversized Frankenstein pushing him away with the only strength of his deadly gaze, but not without some words reaching the poor man’s ears. A simple request you made to your husband between kisses.

“Last night, you were unhinged. You were like some desperate howling demon. You frightened me. Do it again.”

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio

Let me know if you want to get tagged too <3

#daniel bruhl x reader #addams family au #daniel bruhl fanfiction #daniel brühl imagine #Daniel Brühl au

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carryonthroughtheages · 3 years

Text

Hello everyone!

Another year of Carry On Through The Ages is over and done! We have emotions and exhaustion, but we're so happy that this year had the hype and excitement that it did.

Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts, to all of the AMAZING creators who spent the last several months working away at their historical content!

Thank you also to the hard-working mods: @bazzybelle, @giishu, @palimpsessed, and @xivz . This fest would not have been as successful as it has been without you!

We encourage everyone to look under the page break for all the fics and art. They're all fantastic!

Here is the link to the AO3 Collection: Carry On Through The Ages 2021!

Thank you all, and until next year! 🧡🧡🧡

MONDAY:

1) sun on the sea (T) - @trenchcoat-moth : AO3 // Tumblr

Tensions run high in England, and Malcolm decides it's for the best he sends Baz to live with Fiona, where he'll be safer.

That is, until Baz's ship is attacked.

2) The Words I Long To Say (M) - @bazzybelle : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon Snow was dead.

Baz Pitch was sure of it. Simon had gone away seven years ago to fight a war in the jungle and he hadn't come home.

So, when Simon shows up in Baz's club, investigating a string of brutal murders, all Baz wants to do is hold him close and never let him go.

But these aren't the same boys from 1960 and Baz has a lot of processing to do before he's ready to believe in Simon again.

3) we are slaves to gods, whatever gods are (M) - @wellbelesbian : AO3 // Tumblr

I don’t fully understand what plagues him, but I know it’s bad, and I know it goes deeper than guilt. He didn’t want to kill his father, not really, but we were instructed to do so by Apollo. Cleanse the house of its sins, dispose of a murderer to set things right. It was only right that I join him; he was avenging my mother as much as his. Clearly, Apollo didn’t seem to consider that such an act would make Simon a murderer in his father’s place. It seems I got off fine, but as far as Simon is concerned, the vengeful spirits that once spun and danced on the roof of the palace now hunt him down, determined not to stop until he rids the world of himself.

4) World War II Era Art - @stardustasincocaine : Tumblr

TUESDAY:

1) the art of loving you (E) - @one-more-offbeat-anthem : AO3 // Tumblr

1955. London. Young love.

Forbidden love.

A year ago, starving artist Simon Snow met Baz Pitch, son of a wealthy art patron, at a party, and their days (and nights) together have been a wonderful secret.

But Simon is tired of being a secret and knows it's time for things to end.

(Baz has other ideas.)

2) Reliquary of an Arsonist (T) - @tea-brigade : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon Snow grew up a ward of Watford Abbey, but when his magic manifested in an explosive accident as a child, he became the Abbey’s anchorite—never to leave Watford’s walls, for his own protection. That is, until Abbot David sends him on an important errand…

Basilton Pitch paints portraits for his patron, Lord Grimm. But he’s never forgotten the magic he learned from his mother—nor the men who condemned her to death as a heretic. When Simon arrives and offers Baz a commission from Watford Abbey, he sees his chance to avenge his mother once and for all...and he’s willing to burn down everything in his path to that end.

But it was no coincidence that pulled these two unlikely souls together. Something more sinister is underway at Watford Abbey, and only Simon and Baz can uncover the truth before everything goes up in flames.

3) Westward Son (E) - @aristocratic-otter : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon and Baz have found each other again, but there's nowhere in Brooklyn or Virginia where they can safely be together. So now, they venture the hazards and struggles of the Oregon trail, to perhaps find a little homestead in Oregon of their own.

4) A Way Out (T) - @lying-on-the-sofa : AO3

I frown at him..“You don’t know me.”

He offers his hand. “Simon.”

Simon. I feel the name around in my mind and assign it to his face. Simon. I don’t shake his hand. They’ve still got my arms pinned. “Basilton.”

Simon nods at me. “Now we know each other. Let him go.” Very casually, he takes his other hand from behind his back. A sword, flashing. He leans on it and smiles invitingly. “Let him go.”

This time, they listen.

Simon Snow has been trained for years to become a tribute—one of the fighters Athens sends every ninth year into the Minotaur’s labyrinth. He wants to know the way out, if only for Penny’s sake. Luckily for him, Prince Basilton of Crete also wants a way out—off the island, where no one will know he’s the half-brother of the Minotaur.

Unluckily for both of them, they don’t exactly form the most agreeable pair.

WEDNESDAY

1) long is the road the leads me home (G) - @wellbelesbian : AO3 (Version 1) (Version 2) // Tumblr

Baz has a rather unremarkable life, and he's fine with that. Running his late mother's beloved inn with his temperamental aunt, estranged from his father and step-siblings, he's successfully convinced himself that he's better off without attachments.

Then Simon barrels into his life, guns blazing and rapier drawn, and Baz is swept up in dramatic plot he never bargained for.

Worse still, he finds he quite likes the thrill.

2) New Romantics (T) - @ninemagicks : AO3 // Tumblr

Basilton Pitch, twenty-two years old and a famed poet of the Romantic era, has fled to the countryside. In Mummers House, the fabled haunt of literary greats, he sulks himself into oblivion and awaits a sad, disappointing end to his brief years of brilliance. The cause of his downfall? None other than Simon Snow, the so-called “bad boy of English poetry”, breaker of rules and eternal thorn in his side. Baz hopes that Mummers House might mean an escape from London, from Snow and his increasingly virulent popularity... but the rain that comes has other ideas.

3) thnétos (T) - @snowybank : AO3 // Tumblr

thnétos: subject to death, mortal

a retelling of Apollo and Hyacinthus

4) A Medieval AU art piece - @thewriterxj : Tumblr

THURSDAY

1) From Eden (E) - @orange-peony : AO3 // Tumblr

I wonder if his skin is warm or cold to the touch. I tell myself it’s simple curiosity, that I’m an artist and capturing things on paper or canvas is my way to make sense of the world. That drawing him feels so natural, so I should just follow my instincts. Ebb used to say it all the time. Follow your heart. It knows where you’re supposed to go.

I wish I could. I wish I had enough money and freedom to just draw what I want. To paint him in his unattainable beauty. To draw him the way I want to. Naked and vulnerable, raw. Without frills and expensive suits.

Just Baz on paper, my fingers tracing his delicate and beautiful lines with simple charcoal.

2) Slings and Eros (M) - @palimpsessed : AO3 // Tumblr

Young god of love Simonides is tasked by his father, the god of war, to bring about the ruin of a mortal prince to punish his blasphemy. However, once Simonides sees his intended victim, he begins to have misgivings. Prince Tyrannus might have offended the gods with his very existence, but all Simonides can see is how beautiful and lonely he is.

Or, a very loose interpretation of the Eros and Psyche myth.

3) I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire (M) - @knitbelove : AO3 // Tumblr

September 1940: Going back to Watford feels different this year, and not just because England is at the brink of war with Germany and Italy. Penelope seems unsettled by everything, and Agatha is distant, and Baz is … simply not here.

What if Carry On but during the Blitz?? Yeah.

4) A Fool's Oath (M) - @thewriterxj : AO3 // Tumblr

A simple soldier is invited to join the ranks of the royal guard. He and his appointed mage arrive at the royal city to find themselves at the mercy of an unmerciful court. As he struggles to find his place in this foreign environment, he also finds himself entranced by music that only he seems to hear that floats out about the city. He makes an oath to wed whoever makes such beautiful music.

Too bad that person is the crown prince.

FRIDAY

1) Stranger Tides (T) - @tea-brigade & @xivz : AO3 // Tumblr

“If some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep, even so I will endure…” Captain Simon Snow of the Chosen One is many things—cunning, handsome, ruthless. Greedy. It’s no surprise that Snow finds a way to piss off the God of the Sea, he always manages to get himself into some type of trouble. This time, however, he’s not the only one who will suffer the consequences. Poseidon promises to not stop his pursuit until Snow and all of his men are dead.

Enter Basilton Pitch—rich, beautiful, mysterious. Suspicious. He offers the crew of the Chosen One a hefty sum to take him back to Europe from the Caribbean. And who is Captain Snow to refuse so much coin? After all, Greek gods aren’t real.

Right?

2) The wayward heir [comic] (M) - @letraspal : AO3 // Tumblr

Like a folk song, our love will be passed on. Simon Snow wants to be an artist. He used to live in Fiesole where he worked in the wool shop of his good friend Ebeneza Petty. He has now chosen to return to his native Florence in order to participate in an art contest hosted by the Pitch family, the most important bankers in all the three continents and Simon’s last chance for an art patronage. No matter how much he hates them.

But being back in Florence also brings back the memories Simon wanted to leave behind : his days as an orphan, the mystery about his mother, and once more being under the inquisitive eyes of his godfather, the new archbishop Davy. The archbishop is very same man who would never forgive him for dropping out the priesthood and ruining his secret plans against the Pitches.

The last thing Simon needed was an unbearably handsome jerk getting him into trouble on his very first day in Florence. How can focus when this man is the most annoying person he has ever met and yet his major source of inspiration.

3) Prohibition Blues (T) - @heyyyandrea : AO3

Simon Snow is a baker and aspiring playwright in Prohibition Era New York City. When he meets a handsome man at Shepherd's speakeasy who is interested in his work, he can't help but think it feels too good to be true.

4) Earth Below & Sky Above (M) - @phoxphyre : AO3 // Tumblr

In the depth of the palace of King Minos of Crete lurks a creature known as the Minotaur.

Baz, prince of Athens and chosen of the god Poseidon, has heard the stories. And now he’s volunteered to come to Crete as one of the annual tributes—to dance with the king’s bulls and fulfill his destiny. He just wants to survive the bulls, protect his people, and go home.

But what if the Minotaur isn’t a monster—but just a boy? And what if instead of slaying him, Baz fell in love with him?

A Carry On retelling of the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur, set in Bronze Age Crete.

5) A 1980s AU Art piece by @stardustasincocaine : Tumblr // Instagram (Slightly NSFW)

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anxitea-shop · 2 years

Text

⚠️TW⚠️ Mention of: Homophobia, bl00d,slurs,violence,sadness‼️

Credit fanart to @coreylemons ! Thank you so much for letting me to use it! Your art is amazing!✨

P.S: English is not my first language! So I'm sorry for the grammar mistakes!

But what happened to your left eye?

One evening Viktor and Silco were sitting in the living room on the couch.Viktor was looking at photos of his fathers from their youth and Silco was on the phone. While Viktor was looking through the photos with Silco and Vander he found a rather interesting one, surprised but also curious he decides to ask Silco.

Vik:Hey umm..dad?

Silco:Yes,my dear?

Vik: In this picture are you and papa when you were young? *shows him the picture*

*Silco laughed slightly at the photo* Oh my God,do we still have this picture?

Vik: I don't believe...are you and papa here?

Silco: Oh yes son we are. We were "rebels" back then hahaha.

Vik*looks at his father in amazement and asks him* But...how old were you? You were WOW...I have no words!

Silco: Hahaha,*sigh* he and I were 25, son.

Vik: Naah..I don't believe you.

Silco: Believe me. I know it's hard to believe, but yes, we were both 25 years old.

*While Silco was telling him, Viktor noticed that in some photos with them that his father's left eye was ok. He was not "sick"*

Silco *notices that Viktor is looking at him very closely* Viktor are you okay? Did something happen?

Vik: O-Oh! Sorry I didn't mean to look so weird but...what happened to your left eye? I mean, look. In this picture your eye is perfectly normal.

Silco*Sigh* Do you really want to know huh?

Vik: Umm....if you don't feel comfortable talking about this it's ok...I hope I didn't bother you with this stupid question.....

Silco: First of all, don't say that. Your question was not stupid, and secondly you are old enough to know what happened. It all started when Vander and I were in a club in '95. Nothing strange yet. Well at dawn when we decided to go out to smoke, before we left, it was around 4 in the morning if I'm not mistaken, and some guy with his friends saw us when we went out. And obviously he started commenting, saying inappropriate things.

Vik:Like?

Silco: Fagots...He called us fagots. Obviously Vander and I tried to ignore him. But he kept going and going.He practically couldn't keep his mouth shut...

Vik: And what happened?

Silco: I couldn't stand it anymore and I started arguing with him. Vander tried to calm me down, but no chance...and from the quarrel...I jumped into a fight.

Vik: WHAT?!

Silco: Yeah...fight...and what a fight. I was punching that guy and Vander was beating the others. I'm not sure how long it lasted, but after a while I fell, and I could feel something leaking out of my eye. When I checked it was blood. I turned to him and I saw him holding a dagger. I tried to kick him in the neck. But Vander...I felt like he was grabbing me like a sack.

* From that perspective *

Silco: AAH I SHOW YOU! ARGH-

Vander: SILCO NO! HE CAN HURT YOU MORE!

Silco: ARGH VANDER LET ME KILL HIM!

Vander *lowers Silco and grabs him by the shoulders, staring into his eyes. * DID YOU REALLY GO CRAZY ?! FUCK HIM! LOVE IS NOT WORTH IT!

Silco: ARGH DON'T YOU SEE ?! ARE YOU REALLY BLIND OR DEAF ?! AREN'T YOU TIRED FOR BEING CALLED A FAGOT OR AIDS CARRIER WHEREVER YOU GO?!

Vander: I do! And I understand what you're saying, Sil! But enough is enough!

Silco: I -...Vanny*faints in his arms*

Vander: Sil...SILCO!

*Present*

Vik: WOW! And what happened next ?!

Silco: Well..I don't remember..I remember waking up in the hospital...

Vik: Oh...

Vander: I think I can take it from here.

Vik: Papa!

Silco: Did you hear me tell him huh?

Vander: Obviously hehe. So it's possible?

Silco: Of course love.

Vander: Well, Viktor, my boy, after your dad passed out...

*Then*

Vander: SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!

*After an hour Vander was in the hospital sitting on his thorns and with a heart like a flea for his fiancé*

*A doctor appears* Doctor: Mr. Vander?

Vander: YES!

Doctor: I have news about your fiancé.

Vander: WHAT HAPPENED ?! IS HE OK?!

Doctor: I'm going to ask you to calm down...

Vander *straightening his voice* Yes, of course...I'm sorry. Please, Doctor...is my fiancé...okay? Was it something serious...? *tears*

Doctor: Fortunately his eye managed to be operated on. It didn't need to be removed, but...

Vander: But...?

Doctor: Unfortunately he won't be able to see with him again. All he can see with him will be shadows. No clear images.

Vander: Oh...God...I'm glad he didn't have to be removed. But will he still be able to shut him down? For example, when he sleep or blink?

Doctor: Yes. There was no problem here, the eyelid was not affected.

Vander: *Sigh* That's good, thank you doctor. Can I see him please...?

Doctor: Of course*is telling Vander the ward and the salon where Silco is*

*Later*

Silco: Mmm....o-ouch...my head...* sees Vander sitting on a chair* Vanny..?

Vander: Silco! How are you feeling?

Silco: My head hurts...very hard...but where are we...?

Vander: At the hospital...you...you had surgery on your left eye.

Silco: WHAT?! *Puts his hand on his face and feels the bandages* Vanny....W-what happened to my eye....? *He feels panicked and confused*

Vander *sits on the edge of the bed next to him* Easy love...Do you remember the club fight?

Silco: Yes.....

Vander: Well...you saw the guy you were arguing with had a dagger.

Silco: Yes. Yes I saw...

Vander: During the fight he stabbed you in the eye and...

Silco: And?! My eye?! Can I still use it?!

Vander: Somehow...the doctor told me you were very lucky that it weren't had to be removed but-

Silco: REMOVED?!

Vander: Love its ok I'm here take it easy inhale and exhale *kiss him on the forehead*

Silco *trembling breath* Ok...ok I'm fine..c-continue...but?

Vander: But she told me you'd only be able to see with him...shadows...not clear images. And you will be able to close it for example when you are sleeping or blinking, because your eyelid have not been affected.

Silco *sits with his head on Vander's lap* SIGH....at least...it's good that I didn't lose him for good, and I'm glad I won't have to wear a patch like pirates...

Vander *plays in his hair* I'm glad too love..you have no idea * tears runs down his face*

*Present*

Vik: I...I have no words...so this happened to your eye...

Silco: Yes, son.

Vik: But after...you were discharged from the hospital...what happened? What happened to that guy and his friends?

Vander: Well, that guy was jailed for 3 or 4 years, if I'm not wrong, for attempted murder. And his friends 2 years in prison for complicity.

Vik: O-Oh....

Silco: And about what happened after my discharge. Your papa took care of me. Don't let me do anything. *He has a gentle smile as he looks at Vander*

Vander: Well, I didn't leave him because he had to stay "good" so to speak, and since that incident we have decided by mutual agreement not to go to clubs or if we still go and want to smoke, to do it after we leave from there. And we had to go to regular checks. To monitor his healing process.

Silco: Exactly. And in time, I took off my bandages. It was hard for me at first, with one eye to see well and not with the other. But over time, I got used to it. So you found out the story behind my left eye.

Vik: Wow...thank you so much for telling me!

Vander: Anything for you, my boy *strokes his head*

Silco: You're welcome dear *kiss him on the forehead*

The end

#vanco #zaundads #vanco modern au #silco arcane #vander arcane #vander x silco #silco x vander #young vanco #young silco #young vander #arcane #viktor #arcane viktor #vanco fanfiction #vanco fluff #zaundads fluff

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lordsenorslowmo · 3 years

Text

FNF Mods: Employer!Reader Headcanons

Given I also completely forgot about Lemon Demon I’ll throw him in as well.

Lemon Demon:

*In all honesty you couldn’t remember when he showed up at your old house.

*He kinda just popped into existence one day and refused to leave ever since.

*He’s surprisingly useful, though your feeding him the remains of some of the nastier elements of the city seems to have given him a hankering for human flesh.

*He’s also one of the very VERY few to do a Funk Fight entirely in English, not using beatboxing. It’s actually kind of unnerving.

MODS:

Whitty:

*You didn’t know how he came to be or who made him, but you knew he wasn’t a bad guy.

*His anxiety made him very volatile though, which you experienced first hand when you confronted the Sentient Weapon.

*Even with no control over it, the fact he managed to warp and distort reality in the alley proved him to be a threat, but you managed to get him to calm down before he literally lost his head.

*You offered him a place to stay if he ever needed it, but he opted out of it as he never felt safe in one place.

*Part of you feels like you may need to deal with this Greater Good, lest they prove to cause trouble for your City.

(It’s a goddamn shame what happened, and I blame those so called “fans” for once again causing trouble in something I enjoy for no better reason than Godforbid we have something nice for once)

Tricky:

*As a fellow Nevadan you know Tricky, especially after he died for the first time.

*The unstable clown was a constant thorn in your brother’s side and he would let you know his hatred for the clown.

*The fact that Tricky had an unnatural affinity for the Improbability Drives and could seemingly use them without even needing to be near one, was also a worry.

*While your brother was more focused on Nevada and with you halfway across the country, you never had to worry about Tricky just popping up on day.

*Though that didn’t mean you weren’t prepared for that eventuality, a smaller, less powerful Improbability Device was always kept on hand just in case.

Zardy:

*You weren’t sure when a corn maze popped up outside of the city, but when several of your Agents disappeared when investigating it, you opted to check it out yourself.

*Meeting with the titular scarecrow was met with more than a few blows being traded.

*Eventually when you both realized that neither of you could hurt the other, him being a scarecrow and you being an amorphous mass of shadows, you cooled off.

*Though you weren’t fine with him just showing up, namely as you had this plot of land set for a theater, so long as he stopped disappearing people, he was welcome to stay, so long as he followed along with the laws.

(I know next to nadah about Zardy so who knows if this is even slightly right)

Garcello:

*He wasn’t someone who showed up much, a man who mainly kept to himself.

*Meeting him was pure happenstance. After one of your Agents managed to lose their wallet in one of the back alleys.

*He seemed a very down to earth guy, very much an in the now man.

*Yet, judging from the racking coughs that came from him when you found him, his health was on the decline.

*Smoking kills as they say, and while Nevada took that more literally, it was still a thing everywhere else.

*Yet, even when offered with a means to alleviate the consequences of it, he didn’t want to bother you.

*Still, even if he didn’t realize it, by the time you left, he could breathe just slightly better.

Ghost!Garcello:

*You hadn’t had a run in with him since the last time you met. Only when one of your Agents discovered his body, in the same alley you had met him before, did you know he died.

*While death was commonplace, especially for you, you did feel some sorrow for the man.

*When you finally came to retrieve the body it was already near sundown.

*So when his, for lack of a better term, ghost appeared as a smoky apparition you were caught off guard.

*Namely as usually when people die they don’t reappear as ghosts, Not normally anyway, as most ghosts are born of regret and he seemed to be at peace with his lot in life.

*Turns out it both was and wasn’t his smoking that did him in. He shared a few bars with Keith, but met his end at the end of a strange cigarette he was given.

*You were going to have words with Luis, this was getting Officially out of hand.

Sarvente and Ruv:

*Now you weren’t exactly religious, being an amorphous and vaguely demonic being yourself. You weren’t against others practicing their faith.

*So when the Neapolitan nun came with the proposal to build a church, you didn’t refuse her.

*Though stumbling into her rather empty congregation one night after one of your Agents managed to hit you with a car, you were surprised to find another, very VERY tall and imposing figure talking with her.

*The man’s voice shook the very building and made you wonder how his voice had such bass to it.

*He seemed rather unimpressed or more so uninvolved with the church.

*You of course knew Sarvente was a demon from the get go as there’s nothing that escapes your notice.

*You just found it strange a demon was advocating for God, and lived in a church of all things, but to each their own.

Hex:

*The basketball bot was someone you encountered while overseeing construction of the City park.

*A very earnest and kind bot, he was very hard to say no to.

*He seemed quite susceptible to viruses and the like, but fortunately for him, and not for your head, you could easily remove them before they caused him harm, at the cost of needing to buy a lot of painkillers.

*He even taught you how to play, though apparently keeping the ball out of reach by holding it 10 feet in the air wasn’t exactly within the rules.

(Not my best work, but I only remembered Whitty and Tricky right off the top of my head, the others besides Garcello I made up as I went)

#fnf #friday night funkin mods #garcello #whitty #tricky #sarvente #ruv #hex #zardy #lemon demon

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suchalonelysunflower · 3 years

Text

Between The Stone And The Sword (c.h)

Where The Roses Bloom - Chapter 6

Pairing: Stable Lad! Calum Hood x Princess! Reader

Summary: Conversations are held and secrets are uncovered while you are left to wonder Calum’s state after the beating.

Warnings: Angst. Drama. Mentions of violence, abuse, death, humiliations, alcohol. Language. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 6.8 k

Author’s Note: I do hate Richard so much. The next chapter is the official ending and then comes the epilogue! Stay tuned ❤️ Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes are very important! You don’t know how much they help me 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋✨🌻

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

Series Materialist || prologue || chapter one || chapter two || chapter three || chapter four || chapter five || chapter seven || epilogue

You spent hours looking at the bruise in your arm. It was a bright purple mixed with spots of blue and green. It reminded you of the drawings of galaxies you studied as a kid.

Your tutor used to tell you stories about how the world was born out of a star, and that every single being is made of stardust and we are all born to be stars. The problem is that some of them burn out too bright and they won’t even make it to sunset.

Now, you were sure your fire had burned as you found no will to get up from your bed. You lost everything. You lost him.

You wanted to stay at the tree, to let the gods take you at that moment after seeing Calum being dragged away by your father’s guards. You remembered how Ashton tried to get you up, but you kept weeping as you held tight to the patches of grass underneath your fingers. The grass that was tinted with his blood and yours. In the end, Ashton had to carry you back to the palace once you passed out from exhaustion.

The nurses in the infirmary didn’t ask questions as they gave you some healing beverages and covered up your wounds. Still, you were thankful they told your father that you needed a few days' rests before moving on with the wedding plans and he had no choice but to accept. Even though he was the one who caused the wounds, he didn't need the kingdom to know what kind of man he was when seeing his daughter’s bruises and cuts.

Three more days is what he gave you. Three days where you would allow yourself to grieve the loss you suffered.

You didn’t know where Calum was, or if he was okay or even if he was alive. All you knew since you woke up is that the sun has set upon your room. At this time you were supposed to be married, you were supposed to be sailing away to the Northern Kingdoms. You were supposed to be happy instead of this empty feeling of nothingness.

Now everything was ruined. You were forced to marry a man that loves another while your heart is still uncertain about your lover’s condition. You were going to be taken away and paraded around like some kind of puppet, impossible to get out of the strings your father cursed upon you.

You just lost everything.

You turned to your side and cringed at the pain you felt under your ribs. Still, you managed to get out of bed and walk towards the window you forgot to close before you raced to the old tree where Calum was waiting.

The memory of that forged letter burned at the back of your mind as you thought just how stupid you were for ever believing it. You let yourself trust too much and lost yourself in the plan, just hoping that it would’ve turned out perfectly. How naive of you.

“You shouldn’t be on your feet” You heard Ashton said softly as he opened the door. But you didn’t turn to look at him.

“I shouldn’t be here at all”

Ashton fiddled with his hands, looking up and then down and then to you, giving your back to him as you stared out the window while your arms wrapped around yourself and started to softly run your hands over your arms.

If you turned around you could see the desperation in his eyes, the utter sadness that took over him since the moment he witnessed the fateful scene. He was too late when he got there; your father had already captured you and Calum and there was nothing he could do about it.

He tried to find the right words to say to you, but his mouth remained dry with unsaid apologies that would later find their place, right now he needed to be the big brother he knew you needed but didn’t get.

“I should’ve left when he told me to”

Your voice was weak, raspy, and childlike at the same time, bearer of grief that you didn’t want to talk about. The tears were already running down your face silently, falling into the stone and creating dark circles that grew with your sadness.

Ashton felt as if his heart was wrapped in thorns that sunk deeper while hearing the sound of your voice. You should’ve never been this broken, he shouldn't have allowed it, and yet he is now standing there watching how the pieces of you fall and break like crystal.

“I thought we would be okay. I really thought that this could all be over…” You turned to Ashton and you saw how he took a step back, eyes glossy as he took you in “Why isn’t it over?”

Whoever was standing in front of Ashton was not you. This person had bags under her eyes, bruises all over her arms, and a sadness that could make every god look at her with pity and compassion. It was almost as if he was seeing you for the first time in a long time; you were skinnier, fragile-looking with your white nightgown and your hair falling freely down your back, your eyes were never-ending waterfalls as every tear that ran down your cheek was followed by three more, but you didn’t even make a sound.

You were a ghost from the person he once knew. The person he saw die and did nothing to prevent it.

“Did you see him?” You asked in a small voice, looking at him with hope hidden behind your eyes.

Ashton didn’t know if he should lie, but after seeing how you were looking at him, he swore at that moment never to lie to you again.

“No,” He said, almost whispering. He looked disappointed, but you were heartbroken. “They took him to the dungeon, that’s all I know” He added when seeing your trembling lip “At least we know that he is alive”

Your mind kept going back and forward with the image of when you last saw him being dragged out of the woods; unconscious, bleeding, beaten… He’s alive but for how long?

A silence fell over the two of you. You hugged yourself tighter and Ashton pretended not to notice as he searched for something that could give you some kind of comfort, but that was not an easy task. You can still smell the grass coated in crimson red, feel the dirt under your fingernails and feel your heart jump in your throat as you called his name. It was a pathetic sight and a desperate one. A sight that neither you nor Ashton would ever forget.

“How could this happen?” You asked in a whisper, breaking the silence in a heart-wrenching question neither of you had the answer to.

Ashton felt the sob that escaped your mouth as if it were his own, he tried to take a step towards you but you took one back.

“Y/N…” He tried, but you backed up again. Your eyes were filled with tears as you looked down at his boots, wincing as you felt the pain of your father’s kicks come back again.

“How could this happen, Ashton?” You asked again, addressing him directly as your eyes avoided his.

“I- I don’t know, I-” He stuttered, noticing how you started to shake and press your hands to the side of your ribs “Y/N, is your wound-?”

He walked towards you with firm steps, forgetting for a moment that the distance between the two of you was something much deeper than just physical.

“Don’t touch me!” You yelled when you saw him approach. But Ashton did not listen, he stood by your side and caught you in his arms when your knees started to tremble, too weak to make you stand any longer.

You fell into his chest, sobbing as he held you just in time before your knees hit the ground. Ashton sat next to you, cradling you on his lap as you gripped his shirt tightly, his hands running up and down your back at a soothing pace, just like he did when you were children and he took the role of the parent as his own.

His fingers graced your side and you hissed, he immediately took his hands away in order not to make any more damage.

“Can I see?” He asked softly.

You pulled away from him letting your teary eyes meet his hazel ones, an indescribable emotion set on them as you nodded softly.

You sat up straighter, letting him help you get on your feet and walk towards the bed as you set yourself at the end of it with your brother by your side.

With your consent, Ashton started to lift the hem of your nightgown, letting you cover your legs with a blanket as he reached your waist and stomach. You felt how his movements came to a halt when he saw what was there.

A black and blue bruise took over most of the sides of your ribs and waist. Ashton saw the bruise expand with every breath you took, knowing it might hurt to breathe at this moment as well; you had scraps all over your body, red skin showing and burning with every move, threatening to bleed again at the minimum touch.

“The green ones don’t hurt anymore,” You told him in a whisper referring to the green spots that covered some spots that the other colors couldn’t reach “Those are the old ones”

“The what?!” He snapped, horrified at the confession.

Ashton put the nightgown down, kneeling in front of you so he could see your face but you were already looking at the floor, ashamed that he had to see you like that.

“This… this has happened before” He wasn’t asking and your nodding only confirmed it “When? Who?!”

“It started a few months ago when you left for the Southern Islands,” You started, still not looking at him but at your hands intertwined in your lap. Ashton placed his hands over yours, squeezing them softly to give you strength to continue “We were supposed to have dinner together that day and I wanted to wear a dress that belonged to mom… It was her birthday, you know? But father didn’t like it”

The memories ran through your head as it happened yesterday. The rage behind your father’s eyes was apparent the moment he sat his glare on you, ordering everyone to leave the room and leave the two of you alone.

It didn’t matter that your intentions were innocent, you were actually excited to use one of your mother’s old gowns now that you were able to fit in them without having to make any alterations. You wanted to honor your mom’s spirit, but your father saw that as an insult to her memory.

“He asked me to take it off right there but I refused to be naked in the middle of the castle with no way to go back to my room. He got angry… God, Ash, I’ve never seen him so angry before”

The insults he threw at you sounded like soft lullabies compared with the first blow he threw at your face. The sound of his ring-cladding hand smacking against your cheek made echoed throughout the room, but he was not satisfied as he continued to hit you and pull on your hair, demanding you take that dress off.

Your father threw his goblet of wine at you, ruining the dress with the red stains as he laughed. You felt humiliated and ran from the room, dinner forgotten as you tried to escape your father’s cruelty.

“Calum found me by the old tree that night, he asked me to run away with him so my father could not hurt me anymore,” You said with a broken voice “I should’ve listened”

“How many times-?”

“I didn’t want you to go on all those travels just because I missed you, Ash”

Ashton’s eyes widened in horror at the words you spoke. You could see he was doing the math of how many times he left since that first trip and how long he was gone while you…

“I’m going to kill him,” He said “I’m going to fucking kill him”

Ashton clenched his jaw, the knuckles in his hands turning white as his breathing became elaborated. You could see every vein pop out in his neck and his eyes just screamed in rage as he tried to control himself while he was still with you. It was not the same look he gave to you all those weeks ago; no, this one had actual hatred behind it.

“Ash-'' You tried, but he was already getting up from his place on the floor in front of you “Ash! Where are you going”

“To give daddy dearest a talk,” He said in between his teeth, clenching his fists at his side.

Panic started to rise in your heart, jumping off of your bed and running towards him before he could even leave the room. You grabbed him by the arm, squeezing his bicep and pulling him slightly back inside the room, hissing at the movement.

Ashton turned to you harshly, making you take a step back. The look in his eyes softened when he saw you standing there, but his body was still tense as he gripped the doorknob till his whole hand turned white.

“Y/N-“ He started, trying to get you back to bed and to stay there.

“You are not going anywhere” Your voice was strong despite having been crying all day.

“He can’t just-!”

“And what are you going to do Ash!? Put yourself on a silver plate so his guards could back him up?!”

Ashton rolled his eyes “He is not going to do that!”

“What makes you think he won’t?” You asked with a raised brow “Just because you’re his son? Ashton, I’m his daughter! And that never spotted him before. You know what he’s capable of, you’ve seen what happened in the woods. You saw how he ordered the guys to practically murder the love of my life in front of us. Do you think he will care if you stand up to him?!”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, reflecting on the words that just came out of your mouth.

“I don’t want to lose you, too,” You said barely above a whisper “Not when I already lost him”

Ashton’s demeanor softened when he saw you show some vulnerability again. He let go of the doorknob and wrapped his arms around you, carefully enough not to cause any more friction that could cause you pain. You felt his heart beat strongly, still very caught up in his emotions, so you hugged him tighter.

“You didn’t lose him, Y/N/N,” Ashton said in a sigh “Calum will be okay”

You felt yourself starting to break down again. You thought about how many times you cried over him, mourning him because you knew that might be the only way of letting him go even if you didn’t want to.

Calum fought for you. He stood up to your father, to his King, for you. He called your name over and over again and you couldn’t answer him, you failed him. You failed him and he was the one apologizing.

“I’m sorry, my rose” were the last words he said to you. If only you could tell him that this wasn’t his fault. That you’re the one who's sorry because your father was right…

“This is all my fault”

The tears were rolling down your cheeks again, burning you with shame and grief.

“If I hadn’t suggested the idea of looking for ways to get out of that marriage. If I would’ve been more careful with our meetings. If I would’ve said yes when he asked me to run with him. If I hadn’t told him that I loved him… if I hadn’t been so weak then maybe Calum would still be free and happy. I caused this, I sentenced him because I was too selfish for loving him”

Ashton placed his hands on your shoulders, pushing you away slightly as he looked into your eyes.

“You are the strongest and bravest person I know, Y/N,” He said “You loved him despite what everyone told you, you fought for your love and did everything you could to make sure you two would survive this. What happened wasn’t your fault… It was mine”

You noticed how Ashton’s gaze graced the floor, unable to look at your face as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“If I had known… God, Y/N, I had no idea you loved him. If I knew you were in love I would’ve never pushed you to marry King Luke. I would’ve helped you get out of here or find a way to break the deal… I could’ve stopped father from doing this to you” He lamented, brushing his finger over the bruise in your arm “But I was so blind to all of it. I thought you didn’t want to marry Luke just because he was a stranger, I couldn't comprehend why you were being so stubborn, why you hated me and now everything is clear”

“I never hated you, Ashton” You admitted.

“But you didn’t trust me. And it’s okay, I get why you felt like you couldn’t. I was an idiot and I should’ve never said the things I said”

You placed one hand on his cheek, lifting his chin just a little bit so you could look at him in the eyes. At that moment you swore Ashton looked younger, almost as if he became a child again and was being comforted by his mother. You thought about all the times you found yourselves in the same position but with the roles reversed and wondered how much he might’ve hurt in the past without having anyone to give him some kind of comfort.

Ashton felt somewhat ashamed to look at you. His eyes held truth, fear, and regret as he couldn’t comprehend why you were being so kind to him even when he played a part in your unhappiness.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N/N” The young prince whispered “I didn’t know how bad things were until that afternoon when I came to apologize and found the snow globe next to your bed. I didn’t want to believe you were gone but… I guess that would’ve been the best outcome for this situation”

“Is that why you came looking for me?” Ashton nodded “Oh god- I thought you were the one who-“

“Who told father?” He asked in disbelief, shaking his head “I could never do that to you, Y/N. Your happiness means the world to me and if you found that happiness with Calum, then what say do I have in that? All I wanted to do was protect you, I just- I guess I didn’t realize you could protect yourself”

You pulled away from your brother, wrapping your arms around yourself again.

“I don’t know how anyone could protect me when the danger lives under the same roof as I”

Ashton shook his head “That is not the only thing you should be careful with”

“What do you mean?”

Suddenly, heavy footsteps were heard outside the door. Ashton immediately pushed you behind him, getting himself in position as his hand rested over the handle of the sword he took from your father, ready to unsheathe it at any moment.

The door opened forcefully, with Michael panting at the other side as he frantically looked for you.

“Princess!” He called breathlessly “You need to come with me, now!”

“What’s going on?” Ashton asked, putting his blade away.

Michael’s green eyes looked desperate and sorrowful.

“The trial,” He said “They are putting Sir Hood through trial in front of the court”

The sound of your stomps could be heard from all over the palace. You ran as fast as you could with Ashton and Michael trailing behind you. You didn’t even care about changing your clothes, throwing a silk robe over your nightgown before sprinting out of the room with the thought of Calum being in trouble.

“King Richard asked Luke to be part of the sentence” Michael filled you in with the last events that took place without your knowledge as you ran to the throne room “He claims that Sir Hood plotted for your kidnapping before the wedding”

“And what does Luke have to do with all of this?” Asked Ashton, enraged.

“It’s another punishment,” You said confidently “He wants me to hate him because he condoned Calum. He wants me to hate the person I’m supposed to marry”

All trials were held in the throne room, the only room in the whole castle that could fit a crowd of thousands while still putting the King on a pedestal and asserting their authority in front of the whole court.

You’ve participated in trials before, hiding in the back with Ashton or Calum as you watched poor souls being judged in front of your father, who was as merciless as usual and enjoyed the punishments he dictated on people, innocent or not. Trials allowed him to be brutal and cruel in front of an audience in a way in which it was completely legal and no one could go against him.

Your heart was beating loudly with every step you took, praying that you weren’t too late and hoping you could stop him.

Calum would be at your father’s unexisting mercy, unable to defend himself before the King “They should have given him more time” You thought, not knowing Calum’s state after the beating. For all you know, if he wasn’t dead then he would be soon and he’d probably still be unconscious. Your father would take advantage of that for sure, making his power known in the most unjust way possible.

You took the shortcuts, everyone was already at the trail so no one dared to stop you as you sprinted your way into hallways and passages that most people haven’t even heard of, soon appearing at the right corner of the throne room through a door hidden behind red curtains with roses painted on them with gold streams.

King Richard sat on his throne with the rose crown placed over his head as the symbol of his power and a smile so cruel it gave you shivers just by looking at it. He still didn’t take the rings he had on when he hit you, in fact, he was wearing them proudly as if they were his own little secret.

Luke was standing next to him - just like every other member of the court - standing straight as a statue while surrounding the King and enabling his power. But while everyone looked at the center of the room, the Young King of the Vail had his eyes wander around the room, surely searching for Michael among the crowd.

And, as your fiancé searched for his beloved, you did the same. You felt your breathing calming down as you realized that Calum was not in the room, feeling relieved at the thought you got there early.

“He knows he’s innocent, right?” You asked Michael “Luke knows Calum is innocent”

Michael nodded, looking straight ahead at Luke. You could tell he was nervous as his crystal green eyes become glossy with worry, he didn’t trust your father, and the thought of being so far away from his King while he is at a close distance with a possible enemy made him anxious.

“My King knows to trust the stable lad, but I’m afraid your father might coax him into thinking otherwise”

Both, you and Ashton stared at Michael with confused expressions. Michael continued.

“You are not the only ones who King Richard doesn’t trust, Your Highnesses. The crow I heard today, Princess? It was not meant for you, but it was meant for me”

“The crow?”

“Spies” Ashton finished Michael’s thoughts “Father has spies all over the Kingdoms, Y/N. He calls them crows because no one ever suspects how lethal they could be until the time comes to attack”

Michael nodded “The King is planning something with them. He cannot be trusted”

“And you knew about all of this?” You asked your brother, he looked ashamed.

“I knew about the crows. In my travels, my tasks not only consisted in forming and securing alliances,” He admitted “But to plant the crows in every Kingdom as well”

You took a step back, horrified by Ashton’s confession as you placed a hand over your beating heart.

“I didn’t know that I was doing it!” Ashton soon excused himself “Father told me they were liabilities; he never told me what he was planning. I never connected the dots until he announced to us your sudden engagement”

“What does that have to do with anything here?!” You asked, feeling dizzy with all this new information.

“We still don’t know,” Michael interjected “But ever since we came I’ve been doing some research on the King’s motives, guess I have to thank you for giving us so much unsuspected time in the library, Princess. But I guess that they found out pretty quickly, that’s why they sent the crow to me”

“We might not know, but it’s not hard to guess either” Said Ashton with a serious tone “Think about it; Father sends spies all over the neighboring Kingdoms from the West and the South, even when their alliances were sworn as well as their loyalties to it. There was only one Kingdom that could not seal the deal before, an Eastern Kingdom in which the crow disappeared before he could assure the alliance…”

“The Vail”

Ashton nodded “That’s one of the reasons why I wanted you to go there. He still has no power there. The Vail is the most powerful Kingdom in the East, having the biggest and strongest army that the Earth has ever known; every King would be jealous of it and seek to have it for themselves. Now, how do you obtain an alliance that powerful that could give you some sort of power over the army as well as the loyalty of their monarch?”

Both, you and Michael stared at Ashton, astonished by the realization of your father’s plans. Michael let out a curse under his breath as you tried to wrap your head around it. He was willing to give you away for an army?

“But he will not have control of the army if I marry Luke” You tried to reason “Besides, why would he even want an army that big, anyway?”

Ashton’s gaze broke your heart, he looked as sorry as you did.

“Y/N, father is preparing for war”

The words you were ready to say got caught up in your throat at the sounds of the horns, ready to announce the next convict, making the three of you pay attention to the center of the room where Willsburg stood with a large parchment, reading from it to the entire court.

“The Court of Roses and Your Majesty, King Richard, fourth of his name, call the next prisoner in row to trial” The voice of the page resonated through the walls “Please present yourself, Sir Calum Thomas Hood from The Palace of RoseWood”

The big wooden doors opened and you felt as if you might faint. Your heart was beating violently inside your chest, begging for a way out of the pain as you heard the shackles drag against the marbled floor at a slow and agonizing pace, still unable to see his face for he was still too far away.

It wasn’t fair that they made him walk in his state. It wasn’t fair for him to be here at all.

All around the room you could hear distant murmurs about what happened. Some people would whisper about how the stable lad kidnapped the princess in her sleep; others claimed that they saw him taking the princess in a bag, while others praised the King because he was the one who rescued his daughter from the hands of this evildoer.

All lies. They were all lies. But your father twisted the story again, making it impossible for others to believe otherwise.

You held your breath with every step you heard Calum take, reaching for Ashton’s arm to hold on to it as you felt as if your knees might not be able to stop shaking. You knew he was in bad shape; the last time you saw him he was practically dead before your eyes, so you tried to stay strong for him. But nothing could prepare you for when he finally stepped into your line of view.

A sob died in your throat as you placed your hand over your mouth, silencing it before it even began. Your eyes filled with tears that quickly started rolling down your cheeks as you felt how Ashton and Michael tried to catch you before you fell.

The sight of him was more painful than you could ever imagine.

Calum stood there in front of your father. His white shirt was covered in his, now, dried blood. The pants he wore that day seemed more like rags as they were ripped from the knees down, leaving his scrapes and wounds open for everyone to see.

You wonder if they sent a doctor down to the dungeons when he arrived. His wounds seemed to be covered, but not healed. The sides of his face were swollen and both his eyes had black and blue spots around them. The cuts he had on his face did not bleed, but they seemed raw at the sight, and they would probably open easily if someone were to touch them.

He was almost unrecognizable if it weren’t for those brown eyes you loved your whole life. Even when beaten, those eyes still fought for you and prayed for just one look from your eyes before he passed out. You dreamt and loved those eyes for so long you couldn’t imagine a life without them, and, even now, they still looked as beautiful as ever.

His hands and bare feet were trapped in chains, manacles, and shackles, but he was still standing, straighter and braver than ever, before your father. Calum would never coward before him, would never give him the satisfaction to see him on his knees, defeated. Not after what he’s done.

Calum defied your father with his stance, any fool in the court could see it. Most prisoners beg on their knees for forgiveness, but Calum was still standing. For him, it didn’t matter how much it hurt to stand, or how the iron of his restraints drugged into his skin, scraping his flesh raw. He will never kneel before a man who would hit a woman.

However, your father did not take that as an insult, on the contrary, he seemed very amused by Calum’s act of rebellion.

“Sir Hood. You are accused of kidnapping and plotting against the crown” King Richard’s voice reverberated through the whole room, making everyone stay in silence as he spoke, “How do you declare yourself?”

You counted the seconds for his answer, holding your breath with every beat of your heart.

Calum held his head high, but he didn’t say a word.

“Cat got your tongue, horseman?” The King let out an obnoxious laugh and soon enough the rest of the court followed, too scared to go against it.

Luke stood there with his mouth shut, looking at Calum with pleading eyes. They all knew how the situation would go if he didn’t say anything.

But Calum ignored the Young King’s stare, choosing to look straight ahead with utter hatred at the King he once was taught to respect.

“So,” Your father continued “Am I wrong to assume that you kidnapped my daughter from her room and were planning to take her away from the Kingdom days before her wedding?”

Still, not a word. Your father was getting impatient.

“Are you in love with her, boy?” He teased in a mocking tone “Is the stable boy in love with the little princess?” Calum clenched his jaw at the comment, making the King smile “Awww, isn’t that just sweet? The stable lad and the princess! What a beautiful fairy tale, isn’t it? Too bad it’s all in your head, boy”

People were laughing at Calum, mocking him and pointing at him and the fact that he was being humiliated in front of everyone. You stood there with your fists clenched to your sides, knuckles turning white at the thought of making every single one of those people pay for your pain. You were sure that if it weren’t for Ashton holding you back by the shoulders, you would’ve been standing right in the middle of the room next to Calum.

“You really think she could love you? You, a poor stable lad without titles nor riches? Maybe that’s why you tried to take her away from me, her beloved father” The King placed a hand over his heart, playing the part of a loving father a little too amateur compared to his other acts “What poor excuse of a man you are. Thinking you could win her love by-”

“I think this has gone too far for two men who know the truth. Don’t you agree, Your Majesty?”

Calum’s voice was not loud, it was hoarse and damaged but still strong enough to answer.

Everyone in the court stood silent, even the King who looked at Calum with curiosity and rage behind his eyes.

“So he speaks…” He said, “And what’s that truth you talk about, boy?”

“Don’t…” You whispered under your breath, praying to every god there is to have mercy on him. “Please, please don’t”

“The truth is that you’re a coward, Your Majesty” Calum stated, making everyone in the room - including the three of you that were still hidden behind the curtain, gasp.

“Oh, shit,” Michael said, representing all your thoughts in one simple utterance.

“The truth is that you sit in your throne all high and mighty when in reality you are afraid of a dress. You are scared of a past and a future you know won’t come your way because you, you sick son of a bitch, don't deserve it. The truth is that you abuse the ones who are under you, even the ones who held your titles with more honor than yourself. You are a bully that enjoys making people suffer.

You abuse your powers and titles and then parade yourself as a hero when you and I both know you are far from one. How dare you stand there and act all innocent when you were the one who laid hands on your daughter and made her bleed countless times just for your entertainment?

How is that not the truth, Sir?”

The room erupted in gasps and murmurs, all talking about the King and how this man dared to call on him that way, not even addressing him properly and insulting his name.

“Is he telling the truth?”

“King Richard would never, would he?”

“The Princess always looked scared when she was around him, it must be true!”

“He hits his daughter? The King?”

“Who is this man anyway?”

“Such a disgrace for the crown…”

“Enough!” King Richard shouted, silence falling over the court and guests.

Your father stood from his throne. Eyes filled with untamed rage at Calum’s words. With one simple statement, he was capable of turning the whole court into a shitshow, people were taking sides and talking about their King as a joke.

But he was still the King and he was going to make sure everyone knew that.

“Blasphemy!” He shouted, pointing his finger at Calum who stood proudly before him, still not caving nor surrendering. “You insolent peasant don’t know what you’re talking about! You conspired against the crown, do you deny it?”

Calum’s chest raised when he took a deep breath.

“I deny it,” He said loud enough for everyone to hear “I never conspired against the crown, I only conspired to have the engagement of the Princess and King Hemmings annulled”

A wave of gasps was heard all over the room again, but this time all eyes laid on Luke, as he stood awkwardly with an emotionless expression. This was no news to him and he had no intention of showing surprise.

“You kidnapped the Princess, do you deny it?”

“I deny it. I asked for her hand in marriage, she accepted. She left willingly with me so we could escape the Kingdom and its abusive King. I only tried to save her”

Tears rolled down your cheeks and to the floor. All he ever did was try to protect you, to keep you safe and you couldn’t do the same for him.

If it wasn’t for you, neither of you would be in this situation.

“You love the princess, do you deny it?”

You knew that was a cruel play from him trying to humiliate Calum again. But Calum smiled.

“I don’t deny it,” He said “I would never deny my love for Y/N. I would declare my love for her to every god there is and still, that would not be enough. She is everything I have and everything I need and I’m lucky to love her and to be loved by her. That’s something you could never understand and I pity you for that”

You felt your feet moving on their own towards him, trying to reach him and be consumed by him. But Ashton's grip tightened around you, making you stay in your spot, unmoving and unable to do anything.

“Don’t” He whispered “They can’t know we are here, Y/N. They will lock you up as well”

You knew he was right; if your father sees you he would command the guards to take you to your room and forbid anyone to come in or out of there until the day of your wedding. And, even though you were willing to risk it, you knew neither Ashton nor Michael would let you do something so reckless.

But before you could try and fight him for it, the laugh of your father interrupted your every thought.

“Isn’t that just adorable? Too bad love can’t save you this time, boy” He said with a sinister smile “Sir Calum Hood, I declare you-”

“Wait!”

The King turned to his side, a questioning look on his face as he stared at Luke with disdain.

But the Young King didn’t cower, instead, he stood straighter and looked at your father straight in the eyes.

“We haven’t deliberated, Your Majesty” Luke said as politely as he could, gaining the approving murmurs of the court.

Your father was fuming.

“Sir Hood presented his statement” Luke continued “He denied the accusations and provided his own countercase. The court must take that into account before declaring any sentence”

Luke spoke clearly, like a King. You noticed how Michael’s chest raised with pride and adoration. He was giving Calum a chance.

“I’ve taken Sir Hood’s statements into account and I’ve decided to ignore it” Your father then claimed, taking a step closer to Luke who was almost as tall as he was. Still, he stood his ground.

“What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“What happened to respect your elders and your superiors?!” King Richard shouted in Luke’s face.

“Superior?!”

“Sit the fuck down, boy” Your father spat at him “This is my Kingdom and you have no power here. You are swearing to me after you marry my daughter so fucking watch and learn how a real King deals with their subordinates”

The room fell silent, all witness of how the King of RoseWood degraded the King of the Vail, no one dared to move a muscle as the King turned back to Calum with a devilish smirk.

Your chest felt heavy with anticipation, not being able to take your eyes away from Calum as you stood there helplessly with Ashton holding you by the arms and Michael ready to take you away the moment the King declared his sentence.

“Sir Hood. I found you guilty of all charges”

The murmur of the people grew around you as you were starting to lose sight the more dizzy you got all of a sudden.

Calum stood straight, waiting for the sentence with his head held high. You wanted to scream, tell him to run while he still could. Beg your father for mercy... but all you could do was stand there and watch how they kill you while still being alive.

This can’t be happening.

“I, King Richard of RoseWood, sentence you to death by hanging”

tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @notinthesameguey @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @major5sosstan @myloverboyash @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-luke @alltimesos @girlwhosimps @wontlastimokwiththat @ttinahood @yeah-and69 @fckingpernico @multistann @averageantichrist @a-darneddarling @tpwkcth @f-mu @kindahumanbutalsoinsane @floweronyourskin @ihavenoideawhattodowithyou

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miss-kittys-magical-library · 3 years

Text

Waiting For A Star To Fall

Nikolai x Selina

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: minor angst and fluff, oral sex (m/f receiving), brief thigh riding, penetration, use of sex toys, language gif by @vousnavezrienvu

A/N: Selina and Nikolai's first date turns into more than they ever imagined.

This took a stupid amount of time to write and became a pure labor of love. Thank you @magic-multicolored-miracle and @neuroticpuppy for being with me the ENTIRE way. And @bisexualnathanyoung and @forenschik for being my guinea pig

September 1992

Selina’s phone rang, but Sunny beat her to it as he threw himself over the arm of the futon in her minuscule apartment. His elbow rammed into the wall, and Selina insisted he deserved it.

“Hello?”

There was a momentary pause. Selina stood cross-armed with a frown on her face.

“I don't recall anyone with that name living here. It's just my sister, myself, and the guy from the sixth floor who was murdered in 1985.”

“SUNNY!!”

He waved her off, “Why would I be fucking with you? You called here. My sister didn't give you this number, she's a virtual nun! She's not one to take up with strange foreign men.”

Selina launched herself at her little brother. He held the cordless phone above his head and levitated the ten feet towards the ceiling. His legs curled up underneath so she couldn't grab him by the ankle.

“UNFAIR!!”

“EVOLUTIONARY ADVANTAGE!” he shouted and stuck out his tongue. “You were saying?”

“You aren't evolution! You're a science experiment that was implanted in our mother by The Men In Black.”

“Low blow.” Sunny flipped Selina off and went back to the caller. “I mean that may or may not be the woman you ravished lakeside. I know my sister is her own woman. You scandalized her though. I think you made her feel.. feelings. Rude.”

“NICKLAUS ELTON KOSTAS GIVE ME MY PHONE!”

He held up his hand. “HEY! I can speak Russian you know.” And then Sunny did for the next several minutes occasionally glancing down at his sister.

Finally, he came back to the couch and held out the receiver to Selina. “It's for you. He's very perturbed, and Slavic. And sexy.”

She yanked the phone from her brother and flipped him off. “Klaus should've left you in 1989.” Her voice softened and her cheeks flushed as she finally answered, “Hi.”

Sunny hovered a few feet off the ground as Selina blabbered on in flirtatious Russian. He sneered and poked fun at the way his sister wound her finger up in her hair and then released it. When that didn't work, craving her attention, he began to hold an imaginary conversation with an exaggerated Russian accent.

Selina threw the first thing she could at her little brother. The remote control sailed across the room at Sunny who simply held up his hand, palm towards his sister. The remote hung in the air like he did. Then he narrowed his eyes which caused the object to lower to the floor. Selina sighed and returned to the conversation.

“Wait, you wanna take me out?” A pause. “You don't have to repay me. I'm just practicing for when I'm ethically obligated to save someone.” Pause. “Arsonists and thieves too!” Selina smiled wide as the flames licked her cheeks and ears now. “How attractive you are doesn't alter Samaritan laws, Nikolai.”

Sunny rolled his eyes flabbergasted at how his sister’s entire demeanor changed the moment she began to speak to the Russian from Sway Lake. She was being coy. Dare he say seductive as she ignored everything he managed to garner attention.

Sunny had always been the object of his sister’s devotion. EVERYONE’S devotion really. As the youngest of eight “children,” it was his birthright. Now here he was, slowly becoming Selina’s third favorite person. Not a single soul, no matter how rakish or good in bed, would ever replace Leon.

“Sure. Yeah, I’d like that.” Selina had a dopey grin on her face. “Tonight?! I mean can you even get reservations?” “Trust you? I don't know why I should, but I guess I will. I'll meet you there. Do svidaniya, Nik.. KOLYA.”

Selina hung up the phone and threw a pillow this time at Sunny. He crashed to the floor having been caught off guard and rubbed his ass.

“Just be HUMAN FOR FIVE MINUTES.”

“I AM HUMAN!! I'M JUST.. Super.”

“Super egotistical.”

“I can't help that the love of our parents turned me into a badass.”

“I just pray Reginald never finds you. You're the success to his failure with Klaus.” Selina meant that last bit with her entire being. “Now get out, I've a date tonight.”

---

“Nikolai, I can't run that fast in these boots!” Selina yelled as she desperately tried to catch up to her date. She could hear a fast-approaching man behind her yelling obscenities in a dialect she wasn't familiar with. Bulgarian or Lithuanian maybe.

He stopped at the corner. “We are wearing the same ones, look how fast I'm moving. I think it must be the several rum and cokes you had. Come,” Nikolai held out his hand, “we will go faster together.”

Selina rolled her eyes but linked her hand with his. Nikolai took off, and she started to laugh. The exhilaration and adrenaline coursed through her veins. Never in a million years would she have imagined dining and ditching.

Nik was so calm as he spoke to the waiter in the dialect they were being bellowed at. He never blinked. Then the waiter nodded, took something from him and walked away. Nikolai stood and clasped Selina’s hand and began to make his way towards the door.

“Nikolai, shouldn't you pay?”

There was a slight shake to his head. He never looked back, just kept going with Selina tight to his side. They made it to the door before they both had to give chase.

Selina swung out into the street. She waved and whistled loudly at an oncoming taxi. To her shock, it stopped to pull over for them. Nik was incredulous but had no choice except join his date as she yanked him inside the cab.

“Bleecker and Christopher, please,” she instructed the taxi driver. Selina turned to the Russian beside her, “Are we going to break the law EVERY time we're together?”

“Yes. Like a new Bonnie and Clyde.” Nikolai lifted the hand Selina hadn't realized he was still holding. His lips brushed the back of it, “Without being shot to death by the FBI.”

Selina's heart pounded in her ears. She couldn't remember seeing anyone look attractive in the color orange. Yet here was the man beside her, currently with a look she could only describe as voracious, pulling it off. Her cheeks grew hot under the weight of his stare.

“What?!” came out in an embarrassing giggle.

“I cannot look at something beautiful?”

“You don't have to lay it on THAT thick. I'm taking you back to my apartment already.”

“I'm not trying to trick you, Lina. I think you are beautiful. I almost blew my own mission. Especially under the moonlight. You made me forget what I was doing. Your willingness to allow me to do unspeakable things to your body helped,” he teased.

Selina decided to play coy as the taxi stopped in front of her building. “Let's see what happens under this month’s full moon.”

---

Selina and Nikolai on the fire escape outside her living room window. Selina a few beers in and a few steps above. Nikolai nursing a beer of his own while settled between her knees. His arm under her knee to snake around her calf. His fingers mindlessly stroked her ankle to the naked foot dangling in his lap.

They had fallen into a contented silence after nearly two hours of talking. Sharing stories in Russian and English. Nik’s curiosity about the photos and books and records she owned was endless. Selina had a hard time keeping up and answering as he flitted along from keepsake to keepsake.

Yes, that's Elton John. Somehow he and her parents were old friends. He dedicated “Your Song” to her parents every concert they went to. Selina could never figure out why.

The somehow dower, yet smiling man, with a giant cigar in his mouth that tossed Selina in the air while little Sunny hung from his back was her Godfather, Tom. He had been a CIA agent that now lived in a cabin with his beautiful French wife, Ella. That's where she had been staying up at Sway Lake. Yes he did always look like a lion with a thorn in his paw, but he was soft and kind and loving.

The Lady Godiva on the horse was her mother, Honey, back when she frequented Studio 54. Selina recalled her hair rivaled only Cher’s at that stage. Raven colored and long enough to hide her naked body (barely) as she sat side saddle on the white mare. Her head resting against the back of an equally nude man. Her one arm wrapped around his thin waist.

Nope, Nik was totally not imagining things. The man holding the reins did strongly resemble her brother and himself. That was HER papa, Leon. His hair in perfectly wild curls to his shoulders. His face full of confidence and sex.

The questions began to wear Selina down. No one had ever been this inquisitive or interested in her life. Her family. Her. The endless questions, punctuated by making out until their lips chapped, about her personally. Then, between an anecdote about Luther and rollerskating and tongues fighting for dominance they stopped.

Now Nikolai lifted Selina’s foot and kissed the top of it. Then his mouth made its way up her shin. When he reached her knee, Nik turned abruptly to face the woman behind him. He set the bottle down on the windowsill before kneeling on the stairs. He slid the hem of her dress up, fingers hooked into the fabric of her panties to tug them off. He kissed her inner thigh before letting his tongue trace painfully slow along her sex.

Selina could only grasp the railing. Her fingers curved around the cold metal and she cried out in pleasure as Nikolai slipped his tongue inside of her.

It slid in and out before eventually discovering her clit. His hands on her ass so that he could pull her onto his face. Encourage her to ride him as his tongue flicked in circles and then snaked in and out.

Selina started to lose herself. Her free hand tugged at Nik’s hair while her hips bucked and the spark grew. She twitched and cried out louder as his mouth and tongue worked faster. She opened her eyes to look down at the man keen to make her cum.

Almost as if he could feel her eyes on him, Nikolai looked up at Selina. She felt strange, shameless and used her own thumb to wipe away what was on his lips. She sucked on it briefly then grabbed Nik by the shirt towards her. Wanting for a kiss.

Selina revelled in the way she tasted on his lips and inside her own mouth. Like beer and bitterness. She had never done that before Nikolai and the lake. She wanted to do it again, and every time he went down on her. She wanted to put him in her mouth. To suck and lick and make him bend and writhe.

She could, she thought, now. Selina pushed Nik away at arms length meaning to have him sit on the stairs so she could give him head. Her fingers deft at the belt buckle and buttons on his pants. She laughed full of nerves as he fumbled, THE OVERCONFIDENT RUSSIAN FUMBLED!!

Nikolai fumbled with the buttons on his dress shirt before he finally came loose. He yanked his pants and boxers over his hips and held his cock in his hand. Nik parted her legs and started to push inside, but Selina held up her hands.

“What are you doing?”

“Do you not want me to have sex with you?” He was more shocked than angry.

Selina ran her hands over his chest and stomach then up around his neck. “I very much want to fuck you.” Nikolai huffed, but Selina continued, “I mean I've seen you naked and can't get over how fucking sexy you are.”

“Then what is wrong? Not here? Maybe this is not comfortable for you. We’ll go inside.” He stood and held out his hand.

“It's probably the same as fucking on a bunch of sticks and acorns.”

Nikolai sniffed again at the use of the word “fucking.” “Then what is wrong?”

Selina stood and climbed in through the windows. Her date followed. “There's an international health crisis. A incurable disease that passes mostly via sex and fluids?” she shouted from her room as she rummaged through drawers.

“Do you mean The..AIDS? Is that not for,” he chose his words carefully, “The gay men?”

Selina could tell Nik was more confused than anything. She heard this all the time at the clinic where she volunteered. “Or you could be bisexual or pansexual like my brothers. Contract it from a man and pass it to a female partner.”

She appeared in the living room now with a small foil package. “Or an IV drug user, also like my brother, and get it that way.”

Selina started to unwrap the condom without noticing that Nikolai was standing completely nude in her living room. “This is usually where most guys bail. They're not interested in protection or rubbers. Mostly just a pump and..” she looked up and paused in her tracks. She was distracted by his body and neck and eyes and jawline. “Christ on a cracker.”

“What?” he chuckled.

“Sorry! I know. I know. AIDS talk is a bummer. I get this close to just.. sitting on a dick and I panic? Everyone in my family got the sexual confidence memo but me.”

“Why are you panicking now? You did not freak out by Sway Lake.”

Nikolai couldn't help the teasing in his voice. He reached out for Selina to draw her close to his body. His knee inside of her thighs just like that night.

Now he unzipped and helped her out of the dress. “I think it's very sexy when you talk like a nurse. So smart and commanding.” His hands ran over her bare back and down to her ass as he brushed his nose along her neck up to her ear. He nipped at the lobe, “That can be very erotic putting a condom on.”

“Nik,” Selina could only squeak out. Her body involuntarily started to rock back and forth.

“It's Kolya. In Russian we use end of names,” he breathed in her ear. “Like your sister, Vanya. Little Ivan.”

“Ok,” Selina didn't want to hear about Vanya right now. Or Klaus. Or Diego. Instead she got down on her knees. The condom was still in her hand as she used the other to hold his erection towards her mouth.

“Lina, what are you doing?”

She looked up through her bangs, her tongue darted out to trace around the head of the cock. “Sucking your dick. What else does it look like?” She took it fully in her mouth, letting the tip hit the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” he mumbled in Russian. “Dorogoya, stop.”

Selina sat back with a popping sound, “Did I do it wrong? I'm like, the LEAST experienced person in this family.”

“You don't have to be an expert. A blow job is a blow job, we can practice another time. I want to be inside of you. And I have been very patient.”

Selina stood, but Nikolai lifted her completely off the ground. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as they stumbled towards the futon. Mouths and tongues at war as Nik sat her down on the cushions. Selina held eye contact as she expertly unrolled the condom down the length of his cock. She kissed his stomach as he noticeably shuddered.

Nikolai let his fingers caress Selina’s bottom lip before crawling on top of her. She still held his erection in her hand as he threw one of her legs over his shoulder. He held her bent knee to the side as she taunted him with her sex. Guiding it just inside before digging her nails into his ass so that he buried himself to the hilt.

Selina clawed at his back as Nik started to undulate. Over and over, further inside each time. Their bodies rocked wildly as Selina’s muscles started to shake from the position she was in. She clung to him desperately as he searched for her neck and chest with his lips.

Nikolai’s mouth devoured one of her breasts. He sucked and bit at Selina’s nipple. She cried out in shock at the sensation. The sound egged him on to go harder.

“So you like that too?” His voice raspy in her cleavage. His suckling and biting increased. She mewled in reply.

Selina was worried that it wasn't working. That she couldn't or wouldn't orgasm. Not like she did when he went down on her. How she hung from the cliff.

She WAS being pleasured. Nikolai was hitting the right spots, but she was so nervous about what she looked like under the lamplight. His rhythm and pounding, it was pounding, into her was unmatched. She cried out with exaggeration to indicate she had cum hoping he wouldn't notice.

“Fuck!” he cried out and propped himself up by the back of the futon.

Nik’s body arched while his hips made circular motion. He spasmed and shuddered as his body immediately went into shut down mode. His face covered in a sheen of sweat as he pressed his forehead into Selina’s neck then pecked it a few times.

“I.. am sorry, Lina.” There was disappointment in the Russian’s voice as he held the condom so he could pull out.

“For what?” Her arms and legs still enclosed around his back and hips.

“You did not.. cum,” Nik’s eyes searched the woman below him. “I should have tried better. I just was so turned on by you.” He swept the damp hair away from her forehead.

“You were fine! It was good. Really good. I got in my own head is all. Maybe next time?”

“You mean later tonight,” he winked then pecked the tip of her nose. “I won't leave until you are honestly screaming my name.” There were four dimples Selina counted in his smile.

“Then we’ll sleep on it first.”

----

Selina tip toed out to the kitchen both starved and thirsty. She thought about Nikolai's playful threat about not leaving until she got off and chuckled to herself. Then she peered around the wall to see him asleep on the futon. His mouth slightly agape and one hand under his cheek.

Would it be so bad with him around all the time? She thought as she cracked open a beer. To not be alone when she came home from a shift? How nice it would be to have conversations with someone not “related” in some form or another.

And Nikolai was interested in Selina. He still dodged questions about himself, answering straightforwardly with no details. She knew it was because he didn't trust her just yet. It wasn't like she didn't have secrets of her own, but the more open she COULD be, the more she knew Nik would reciprocate. It had to be lonely with only one confidante.

Selina turned around and jumped a mile in the air. “Motherfucker!”

Nikolai was casually leaning against the doorway watching her contemplate life and drinking a beer. “She IS very sexy,” he replied with a cheeky grin.

Selina rolled her eyes and walked towards her kitchen table to keep distance between herself and the Russian. As if she were daring him to chase her. Nik made her feel so contradictory. In control and submissive. Safe yet dangerous. Lustful.

There was no opposite to that, she realized. The light from her small kitchen window illuminated the lines and definition of his chest and shoulders. The collarbone that met in the middle and moved up into his thick neck with its Adam's Apple bobbing along as he swallowed. A sharp intake of breath before he clenched his jaw.

Selina’s heart pumped into her ears as he casually reached across the table for her, but she ducked out of the way. His eyebrows knit together in confusion as they danced around for only a few moments until she allowed him to grab her by the elbow. Her world stood still as he took her in his arms, back to his chest.

“I have been thinking, rypka, about our little challenge,” Nikolai settled one hand on her breast which he massaged lightly paying close attention to her nipple. His mouth somewhere behind her ear as his other hand dropped to her sex.

A finger found its way inside of Selina and she lost the air in her lungs. It curved and hooked before making a lazy swirl around her clit. “Already?” was all she managed. Her nails closed around his wrist and urged him on.

“I would like to try a different way of having sex with you. I just don't want you to be offended.”

Nik let go of Selina and placed her arms on the tabletop. He spread her hands out; bent her forward so that her top half was pressed into the wood surface. Then he grabbed her hips so that her ass was flush with his hardened cock.

“No anal,” she moaned. “Wear a condom,” another instruction. “Bathroom shelf.” She grazed against him.

“If you insist,” Nikolai replied in Russian. “I will obey.”

There was a playful slap on Selina’s ass, and she felt herself swell and throb. A first time for everything. If she enjoyed it, wet from the sting of being struck, it was.. genetic.

Her brothers, father, even Honey mentioned the occasional pain got them going. Klaus and Sunny with varying degrees of punishment. She knew from eavesdropping or snooping that her parents preferred it light: spanking or hair pulling. Maybe she did as well. Too vanilla to ask. Inexperienced to what she wanted from a partner.

“Do it again?” Selina tried not to sound desperate as Nikolai tore into the condom wrapper. She almost presented herself to him as she felt the smooth surface on her cheek.

“What?” he was distracted. There was a strange snap of latex as he adjusted it. Then taunted Selina with the head of his cock. He rubbed it along her slit, marveling at how easy it was to slide in.

“Hitting me?” she asked timidly.

“Why would I hit you?” Nikolai was offended. His hand flat on Selina's back as it traveled to her neck and hair. His fingers combed and intertwined with her dark waves then lightly tugged.

Selina braced herself as he lost himself up to the hilt. Nikolai's pelvis met her ass and pulled out to just the tip. He repeated this until he gained friction. Her head and hips were his anchor so he could thrust quicker. Their bodies make a clapping noise.

“My ass. Like you did. Hit it.” She was willing to try anything. Wanted to cum for him. She knew she could, she did it alone all the time.

“Really?” Nik was surprised. His pace was even faster and the table started to creak under the motion. “Did you like it then?” His hand cracked her flesh but only slightly harder than before.

Selina cried out. Her sex ached and was swollen. Nikolai did it one more time, but she could tell it wasn't really his thing. Sensed that it bothered him to be serious about erotic corporal punishment. Playing was different. His hand did tighten in her hair to bend her head back.

“I don't know,” was all he mumbled in Russian.

The hand that spanked Selina now encompassed her own on the table. He bent to kiss her shoulder as he found his breakneck rhythm.

“Then just go harder,” Selina found her voice now. She relaxed and allowed her body to take how deeply he penetrated her. His cock at that angle hitting a spot she found mythical.

Nikolai railed into Selina. The table and their bodies shook almost violently as he pounded into her. His shaft lost until she felt a pressure in her womb. He stood straight and clutched at the thick of her hips. Her curves she inherited from her mother. They cushioned her as his body and cock pleased her. That spark and wave rolled over Selina like on the couch.

They weren't quiet. Both forgetting about neighbors as Selina mewled and screamed out. Nikolai growled and uttered obscenities in his first language. They were certain this would be it, that Selina would orgasm and Nik would feel satisfied that he could please her.

Instead, his body violently shuddered as he exploded inside the condom. His muscles and adrenaline gave way to Nik almost collapsing on top of Selina. He faltered prior to catching her up in his arms again. He held her and whispered apologies to her as they kissed.

“Kolya,” she whispered back. “It's fine. I was really close. We have other times to experiment.” Selina swept his damp curls back.

Nikolai leaned into her hand, “You want to keep being with me?”

“That's what dating is,” she laughed under her breath. “I like being with you. I wanna know more about YOU though. Come on,” Selina took his hand. “Let's actually go to bed and talk.”

---

Selina reached blindly for Nikolai after her alarm went off. Sitting up, she slammed the clock and turned to see an empty space on the side of the bed he had fallen asleep on.

She knew he wasn't obligated to be there when she woke up. This time waking up alone left a weird knot in her stomach.

“Fuck,” she tossed herself back and threw a pillow over her head to scream. Her arms and legs failed around like a toddler throwing a fit.

How long was enough before she called him? Would he just disappear now? Klaus called it, funnily enough, ghosting. Why did everything Nik say tread a weird line between romantic and calculating? And why did Selina want him to keep saying things, anything at all, to her?

How does someone know they're falling in love? How did Honey and Leon? Klaus and Dave. Allison and Ray. Diego and Patch or Lila. Vanya and Sissy. Uncle Tom and Aunt Ella. Poor Luther.

Selina’s family had a knack for impulsive behavior when it came to attraction. Her mom moved to a foreign country with a man she had slept with for money. Klaus fought in Vietnam for a closeted man that kissed him once. Sunny went home with, to Selina’s chagrin, anyone who showered him with the simplest of affection. And Selina had laid down and spread her legs for a Russian committing arson.

“Lina you are awake?” Nikolai asked from the other room.

She threw a bathrobe on and wandered into the kitchen. “You came back.”

Nik was reaching above her tiny sink for coffee mugs and plates. “Did you not want me to?”

He set the dishes out and opened a box to pull out some pastries and bagels. Then poured coffee and handed Selina the cup.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” he offered her the plate. “Greek, Italian and Russian,” a satisfied grin flashed across his face.

“Well that was kind of you,” she smiled back and helped herself to a cannoli and Russian tea cookie. “Yes, I wanted you to come back. I think I kinda always do?” she questioned her own intentions with a mouthful of pastry.

Nik leaned over and kissed Selina. His tongue darted out to taste the sweet ricotta filling on her lips; she reciprocated. Her own slipping to the back of his mouth to catch him off guard. Nik steadied himself on her hips.

There was a muddled sound of pleasure when Selina’s fingers unbuttoned Nikolai’s shirt in expert time. Their mouths never separated as she went to work on his belt and pants as he struggled to take his boots off.

“This was not my plan for this morning,” Nik breathed heavily in Russian.

“I'm just really interested in us reaching that goal,” Selina helped him out of his clothes.

Kissing again, they could feel their lips start to chap already as Selina began backing Nik into her room until he hit the foot of her bed. As he leaned back, she climbed on his lap. Her hands seized his cock and settled it in the folds of her sex. Selina rolled her hips.

“What are you doing!?” Nikolai could only cry out. Astonished by the lack of a condom.

“I'm sick of being the safe one,” she raised up on her knees so that she was above him. Her hands on his face and neck as she snaked her tongue to the back of his teeth again.

Selina shoved him back on the bed and threw off her robe. She straddled Nikolai like a woman possessed, took his hands and placed them on her breasts as she rode him. Still not penetrated.

Nik lost himself for a moment. He massaged the breasts. One hand teased a nipple, pinched it, before sitting up to devour it. Selina held him to her chest, clung to the hair on the back of his head and pulled in her excitement. Her fingers found the gnarly scar and she rocked harder on his lap.

“I want you to fuck me until I cum.”

Nikolai looked up and held her back, “It is not fucking at this point. Not for me, Lina. Also you must not compromise your principles for anyone. I do not want this for you.”

Selina groaned with exasperation. Her walls were swollen and slick and wanting. “It's not a compromise, Nik. Everyone jumps in my family and trusts they’ll fly while I stand on the cliff pacing back and forth.”

He blinked, mouth just slightly agape. That face. Selina knew that face. She loved that face. She loved this face. “Lina, you are extraordinary. You don't need to have a big life just yet. It will happen.”

“Kolya,” her words softer now as she relaxed, “I love you.”

“Do you?!” a dopey grin spread across Nikolai's face. “It is the same for me I think? I've never done this, you know. “That I love you.”

He kissed Selina before turning under her to rummage around the nightstand drawer. “Now we will go back to the way you prefer? If I need to I will get..” he stopped and held something aloft. Now his smile and dimples were devilish.

He studied it before making it buzz with a push of a button. “Pocket Rocket?! Lina, are you secretly naughty?" he giggled.

"I don't think it's a secret to you anymore,” she reached for it. Her cheeks turned red.

"Who do you fantasize about when you use it?" Nikolai held it to Selina’s breasts. He watched with fascination as her nipples hardened. He let it travel over her stomach and back up.

Selina moaned and twisted. "You're just trying to get me to say you, but I've had it since I turned twenty. So mostly you know.. Keanu Reeves..”

“But not me?" his eyebrow cocked. Nikolai traced the vibrator along her hips and over her pelvic bone.

"Once in a while,” her words came out breathless.

"As a Russian, I'm already superior at using it because rocket?” he waggled his brows now. “We can now? With you on top?”

The toy found her slit and slid inside easily. It buzzed and made the air rush out of Selina’s lungs. She dug her nails into Nikolai's chest while he started to use the vibrator to have sex with her. Found a pattern of in and out while she bucked and writhed.

Selina reached back to anchor herself on one of Nik’s thighs. It allowed him better access to her clit. He Marveled at the way she agonized under his hand as it manipulated her. His free hand on her ass to coax her faster as SHE undulated now as he had done on the couch. Her hips danced separately from her upper half.

Nikolai rolled Selina on her back all of a sudden. Her hair hung off the bed as he propped up on an elbow. He worked the vibrator in circles. In and out of her slick walls before going after the clit.

Selina got tangled up in the sheets as she felt a warmth spread from her stomach to her sex. Her thighs started to tighten around Nik's hand as she thrust her hips off the bed. Eyes clamped shut as the first wave washed over her body. Neck exposed for him to suck and bite which urged another orgasm to burn through her.

Nikolai was stunned by her silence. Selina’s mouth opened in a silent cry as she came a third time in succession. This last time she managed a strangled scream of his name which he swallowed with a kiss.

A shiver ran through Selina while she relaxed. Her fingers traced patterns along Nikolai's bicep as her eyes closed. Cumming was like a sedative. Nikolai cupping her face and drawing it to his for a lazy kiss was a sedative. The rain she had no idea was pouring in buckets outside her window was also a sedative.

The vibrator continued buzzing until it didn't. The room grew quiet save for the breaths that came from Nik’s nose. Still heavy with his still hardened bulge pressed into Selina’s hip. There was no move to get on top of her. To have sex with her so he, too, could cum. She started to idly jerk him off.

“Lina stop,” he gently took her hand. “This was about you, not me. It'll go away eventually. Like I will,” he said that last bit with a challenge in his voice.

Selina curled on her side towards Nikolai. “Or maybe don't go?”

“Ty khochesh', chtoby ya ostalsya?” You want me to stay?

“Po krayney mere, yeshche odno polnoluniye.”

At least one more full moon.

Tag list: @elliethesuperfruitlover @super-unpredictable98 @messengeronthemoon @nightmonsters @070188 @rob-private @firstpersonnarrator @ghouls-buddy @frogs--are--bitches @maerenee930 @duck-noises @bwritesstuff @sylvertyger @a-ghoulish-tale @icecoffeegirl @iamsexytrash @clumsyramen @falloutby @inspiremeandsetmefree @philodenmonstera @seancekitsch @the-freckled-luba @violetrainbow412-blog

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fic #robert sheehan imagine #nikolai x selina #song of sway lake fic #robert sheehan smut #moonbrella lake

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i-need-entertainment · 3 years

Text

Mother-in-Law

Character: Adriah Thomas x reader I recommend listening to Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You by Frankie Valli (you will see why~)

(ALSO, idk if it is *Tomas* or *Thomas* but the fandom wiki thingy said ‘Thomas’ was the proper English translation so I went with that ;)

Warnings: Problematic/overbearing mother-in-law, mean words said by mother-in-law, reader having self doubt/being pressured, angst but then fluff.

I hope this is okay Anon! I took a different approach with this one. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING HIM! You made me so so happy to have chosen ~Thomas~ because I am in love with him. Also, thank you very much for requesting!! :)

It’s been 4 months since you had officially become Mrs. Adriah Thomas. And in all honesty, things were going pretty well! Your wedding had gone very smoothly; Inunaki had been the best man, Meian and Barnes cried, and having the MSBY four™ as the other groomsmen is always guaranteed to be…interesting. All in all, life was going pretty great! There was just one problem. One everlasting thorn in your side. Your mother-in-law.

She had never been a big fan of yours and you can’t exactly say you loved her either. When you and Adriah had been dating she had been nothing but callous towards you. No one was good enough for her son, and she made sure you knew that. You did everything you could to be liked by her, I mean you were a good girlfriend, and now you were a good wife! You made her son very happy and you took good care of him. But it didn’t matter, because at the end of the day you married her precious son, and you could never be good enough in her eyes. Tonight would be a dreaded date. It was the second Tuesday of the month, meaning you and Adriah had his parents over for dinner. Adriah wasn’t stupid, he knew you and his mom didn’t get along, and he completely understood! I mean, having been raised by her he knew first hand how…difficult…she could be. But, she was still his mom who he loved very much. To try and avoid future conflicts, you guys had talked it through (communication is key!) and come to a compromise. You would do your best to get along with his mom, but if she was still being difficult you guys would let it go and keep trying. Currently the two of you were cooking dinner together in the kitchen, which was something the two of you often did. You were sautéing some vegetables when you felt two strong arms wrap tightly around you, you then felt Adriah’s head touch itself into your neck. He continued to sing the song the two of you had playing in the back ground; “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You” by Frankie Valli. You smiled and sung along with him; it had been your wedding song after all. The vegetables were done cooking so you turned off the burner and moved the pan to the side, Adriah quickly but carefully spun you towards him, putting one arm around your waist and the other delicately holding your hand. You laughed as you put your other hand on the arm that was holding your waist. (Yes, typically it would be around his neck, but the man is 6’7. I’m 5’9 and I’m not sure I could reach his neck!!) “Are you thinking about tonight again?” You looked up at your husband before you laid your head on his chest, “I just- I want to get along with her, I do! But she makes it so difficult. I just, I don’t know what to do anymore.” He smiled as he leaned down, putting his forehead against yours as you both continued to sway to the song. “There’s not really anything we can do…just try and keep the peace.” When the song finished the two of you got back to work on dinner. You had just finished when the doorbell rang. “Honey can you get the door? I can finish up in here.” Adriah nodded, gave you a quick kiss and went to unlock the door letting in his parents. They came in and greeted their son, his dad giving him a strong hug and his mother practically smothering him. His dad came into the kitchen and greeted you; he had always been very nice to you. (it was clear which of his parents Adriah took after..) While his mother passed by, gave you a fake smile and very enthusiastically said hello. “Dinner will be ready in about five minutes, so you guys can go ahead and sit at the table if you’d like.” They nodded and headed into the dining room. Just about 5 minutes later dinner was ready and you took it into the dining room. 15 minutes had gone by, 15 peaceful minutes, “So, Y/n, are you still working?” 15 whole minutes. But she just HAD to ruin it. You put on a smile, albeit forced, and nodded. You and Adriah met at work; the MSBY Black Jackals. You worked as the Exercise Physiologist for MSBY (an Exercise Physiologist is like a physical therapist *but with less schooling* combined with an athletic trainer, they’re really cool and I might do this as a career…) which just so happens to be how you met Adriah. This had been one of the many conflicts you had had with your mother-in-law. She thought you should stay home and be a house wife…since Adriah already made quite a bit of money being a professional player, and a very good one at that. “I am, yes.” She hummed, sounding less than impressed as per usual. “So, when are the two of you going to have your first child?” You choked on your food as Adriah’s dad handed you some water, “Mom! We’ve been married for 4 months!” She raised an eye brow at her son. “And…? You both are quite old already. By the time I was your age I was done having you and your siblings.” You held your tongue. You and Adriah were 27, and to some it may seem like you had waited a long time to get married, when in reality it had only been 3 years. You guys had gotten married when you both felt ready, and while you both wanted children and a family, you wanted to wait at least a year until you more seriously thought about it!! “You know, you’re not getting any younger Y/n, your body is on a clock after all. If you wait too long to have children, you won’t be able to have them at all, then what kind of wife would you be?” The table went silent. She tended to have that effect on occasions like this one. You stood up, “Please excuse me, I’m not feeling well.” And walked into yours and Adriah’s bedroom, shutting the door before you sat on the edge of the bed, tears finally breaking free and rolling down your cheeks. If there was one thing you disliked the most about your mother-in-law was the fact that she always managed to find the things that hurt; and then exploit them, even if you never said them out loud. One of the things you had been stressing over is exactly what she had brought up, ‘Am I a good wife…?’ You did your best to be the best spouse you could, you always made sure you communicated your feelings and listened when Adriah communicated his, you did your best to spend personal time with him as well as giving each other space and the list goes on. Yet whenever she comes, you always felt like you were never good enough. ‘What kind of wife can’t even get along with her husband’s mother?!’ You tried not to doubt, you did! But it was so hard when she was constantly reminding you of your “downfalls” even if there wasn’t a problem with how you were doing things! You loved and cared for her son, what more could she want?! *Knock knock* A knock at the door disrupted you from your thoughts. “Y/n…? It’s Adriah, can I come in?” You wiped your tears the best you could, took a deep breath and spoke a small, ‘yeah’. He opened the door and gave you a soft smile, walking over to kneel in front of you. “Dad took mom home, he sent his best regards.” You laughed a little, “He’s so sweet, I wonder where you got that from.” He lightly chuckled as he used his fingers to wipe the tears from your face, his usual smile turning into a frown. “…You’re not a bad wife.” You nodded, “You’re my best friend, and I couldn’t be happier to spend the rest of my life with you.” You nodded. “Y/n,” You looked up from the floor into your husband’s beautiful dark eyes. He got up from the floor and sat beside you on the bed, turning just enough so he could pull you to sit in his lap, strong arms holding you securely to his chest as his heartbeat soothed you. The two of you sat in silence for a while, enjoying the comfort you both got from being in the other’s embrace. “…I’m sorry….I’m sorry for doubting…I’m sorry for ruining tonight…” Adriah smiled as he shook his head, pulling away slightly so he could look you in the eyes. “Why? You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s okay to be upset; especially after that just don’t hide it from me, then I can’t help you. And you definitely didn’t ruin dinner, it was long gone before you walked out.” You laughed, snuggling further into your tall husband. “You’re just too good to be true~ Can’t take my eyes off of you~” He started to sing the song again as you giggled, him wrapping his arms around you even tighter as he began to sway the two of you. “NO I’m trying to be sad, you’re not helping!” You joked as he laughed, standing up as he started dancing around the room, you desperately trying to catch up. “You’d be like heaven to touch,” He paused to give you a big kiss on the cheek, “I wanna hold you so much” You smiled as you finally managed to match his pace, deciding to sing along, “At long last, love has arrived, and I thank God I’m alive,” You pulled away from his embrace to look him in the eyes, him giving the back of your hand a kiss as he continued to hold it. So yes, you had a pretty terrible mother-in-law, and no you don’t know when that will change. But until it does you know your wonderful, adorable, loving husband will always be there for you. “You’re just too good to be true~ Can’t take my eyes off of you~”

#adriah tomas #adriah thomas #adriah x reader #thomas x reader #tomas x reader #y/n #haikyu x reader #haikyuufanfiction #MSBY #msby black jackal #haikyuu!!#angst #fluff #angst to fluff #this man is perfect~#adriah x y/n

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lunewell · 3 years

Text

The Lunewell Saga - Natura: Ch 3

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 2 here

Can also be read on ao3 (:

Book Sumary:

Zarifa Birch, an antique shop worker with an unusual past, has made a home for herself in the sleepy town of Lunewell. Though the shop she works at is not exactly ordinary, with cryptid items and odd occurrences, she has managed to carve the normal life she always desperately wished for out of it.

However, all that comes crumbling down, as a woman from Zarifa’s past throws everything into chaos. Faced with unimaginable horrors, seemingly unsolvable mysteries, and returning repressed feelings and memories, Zarifa along with her coworkers, must find a way to return the balance- and escape the cruel hands of death in this eldritch horror mystery

As always, he had not been himself in the night. He had been an old man, holding a rather nice-smelling bag, walking through the forest towards… something. Something he cared about.

His thoughts were not quite his own, but not the man's either; more a drowsy sort of mish-mash of voices, a bit like falling asleep in the middle of a bustling city. However, none of it really mattered, as he very much felt, smelled, and lived in the forest, above the crunchy leaves and around the warm scent. So hard to place. It was familiar, and yet, the exact detail of it had faded out.

He could hear his own voice, humming. It did not sound like his voice, not really, but it felt like his own, and that was enough for it to be his own. The vibrations travelled through his chest as he burst out in melodic sounds. He was humming a workers’ song, one that someone in his family had sung. Again, the details were blurry, like there was a block in his brain.

The forest was calm, basking in a sunny glow. Autumn leaves decked the ground, and the trees looked familiar. There was a comfort in this place, a home in the scent of mud and moss, and one that he cherished happily.

The trees, though originally quiet to his senses, rustled softly in a pleasant way. The wind must’ve been extra strong, he must’ve just not noticed it through the thick shield of stems.

The trees rustled once more, and felt a beat against the soles of his feet. It was slight, barely noticeable, but it got him to tilt his stiff, aged, neck downwards, if even just for a second.

It was then that it truly happened.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the trees curving, but he didn’t have any time to process as he was slammed down to the ground by a vine sprouting from the ground. A crack wrecked through his body, not unlike the sound a carrot makes when snapping, and he, in what simultaneously was and wasn’t his voice, howled in pain. His leg, already weak to begin with, felt as though it had been ripped in two, and he could clearly see red blood leaking from where the knee was bent at an unnatural angle. Fire coursed through his nerves, burning from his leg to his spine. The pain was so mind-numbing that he didn’t notice the much pointier vine heading right for him until it was too late.

As though it was sentient, a throned vine plunged at him, and punctured right into his stomach. It sliced all the way through him, as though his body was not but soft butter, before pulling out in an equally swift motion and landing him limp on the ground.

There was no pain, even as thorns began to wrap around and puncture every millimeter of skin, only numbness. Numbness from pain that could not be described in the English language. Numbness that no one alive had ever felt. Numbness that acted as a relenting defeat against his continuous fight for any hope of life.

And as he lay there, hands bloodstained, stomach gaping, and so incredibly empty, he feared. Feared for his wife, feared for his unachieved goals, feared for what was coming next. Even this fear, however, held a tragic sort of air to it, as it was dulled down by unrelenting numbness.

The numbness faded, along with all thoughts, as white, hot, pain came crashing down like a hammer. He let out one last pitiful, agony filled screech - for a scream was much too human to cover the sound - muffled by the thorns that had stuck themselves into his lips, before everything went black in what was truly the kindest mercy. ————————————————

Bruin awoke with a gasp, clutching his stomach. His eyes darted around his barren room, pulse racing at an olympic level under his skin. With a weak breath - still clutching his stomach with an iron grip - he closed his eyes, and repeated his mantra; You’re Bruin Becker, you’re not them, you’re safe.

The phrase played over and over again in his mind as his vision slowly morphed from a blur of panic, to the usual, groggy morning one. Taking a more stable breath, he slowly let go of his stomach. He couldn’t resist scanning his hands for blood, though he knew there was none.

Once he was sure his hands were clean, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and watched the world come to life. The white desk and closet popped from the midnight blue walls, the sheets on his bed clear as glass. He glanced at his face in the mirror, and was not surprised at what he saw; deep, dark bags under his slender eyes, porcupine-like hair, and a thin sheet of sweat that lined his forehead.

He collapsed back into his bed with a tired sigh, wanting nothing more than to ignore the clock that was taunting him with the ridiculous hour he had awoken. He would probably do that. Go back to blissful sleep, that is. He doubted he even had gotten an ounce of it because of his stupid… nightmares? Visions? Whatever they were.

He closed his eyes, relaxing back into his bed, mind so far gone and forgetting one quintessentially, very, important thing. A thing he was oh-so-kindly reminded of by what could have only been described as the sound of every single plate in the house shattering at once.

With an almost inhuman speed, Bruin threw the cover from his bed, and darted to the room next door. He adjusted his hair along the way in a frantic motion, pulse having quickened yet again at the commotion. He braked as he reached the kitchen doorway, looking at the source of the sound.

On the grey tiles sat a dazed Grant, covered head to toe in flour, shards of ceramic plates scattered around him like a bomb had just gone off. Grant looked sheepishly at Bruin, blue eyes just as bagged as his own. “Uhh… good morning?”

Bruin couldn’t help the look of absolute disappointment that rolled over his face. “How did you manage to - never mind. I don’t want to know,” he said, exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well, if you must know,” Grant began, ignoring Bruin’s statement, “I was trying to make pancakes. Keyword there being trying.” He got up and tried dusting off the flour powdered on him like snow, but gave up almost immediately. “It was a shame really. I make lovely pancakes. It’s the only good thing about living with me, according to my dearest exes.”

“I’m surprised they listed any good things about living with you,” Bruin mumbled, before joining Grant to pick up the last pieces of the plates.

Though he would never admit it, Grant had been a blessing in disguise. When he first rented the little cottage in Lunewell, he had accepted that his co-worker would be an annoying, messy, music-box obsessed pest in the house that he would hopefully have to deal with as little as humanly possible.

Yet, almost like a mold, he had to admit that Grant had grown on him. Sure, he still couldn’t stand the messiness, and he swore that every time he turned a corner he saw another damn music-box, but those were things he had learned to forgive over the years.

“What possessed you to make pancakes?” Bruin questioned as they threw the last pieces in the trash.

Grant quieted, biting his lip.“They’re great comfort food,” he said slowly, as if testing out the words.

Bruin tensed, suddenly hyper aware of the rumbling in his stomach. “Oh,” he said quietly, after minutes of silence, “did you have a bad night’s sleep?” The question was pointless, but Bruin felt the need to ask it anyway. If only to take away from the barking that had begun playing in his ears.

“Yeah,” Grant responded, eyeing him, “I was up working on fixing an antique box, planning to go to bed, but I think someone was begging for their life outside, which wasn’t a very nice sound to fall asleep too.”

It was an invitation, one which he pondered for a while, before finally giving his response; “I wouldn't imagine so, no.”

He looked away as Grant's ocean blue eyes filled with pity, something that hurt him as much as any gun wound. “Hey, I… uh,” Grant began, no longer looking at him, “don’t feel obligated to answer this, but, are they getting worse?”

“You should probably go and get changed. I’ll make some breakfast for us. We still have a while before work.”

Grant, bless his heart, didn’t push. Instead, he simply nodded, vanishing the sad look from his eyes. He was halfway out the door, when he turned around with a snap; “that’s what I was forgetting to tell you!” he said, “Zarifa called earlier, she wants us to come in early.”

“Really? That’s unusual.”

“My thoughts exactly. I didn’t ever find out why though, she remained all vague. Sounded a bit panicked, if I’m honest.”

Bruin nodded. “We’ll head out after you and I get changed then. I’m not really in the mood for breakfast anyway.”

“Aye aye, Bruiny,” Grant said with a mock salute, before slipping out the door and presumably into his bedroom. Bruin did the same, taking one last glance around the rustic kitchen before walking towards his own room with a newfound haste. Zarifa had always been more than lenient with the times they showed and left work, especially once she realised both Grant and Bruin had abysmal sleep quality and patterns, so something like this was not only highly unusual, but equally concerning.

He just hoped nothing too terrible had happened. ——————————————

The walk to the Office was a beautiful one, especially this time of year. They were both bundled in hats and scarves that Grant had insisted on, as golden yellows and flaming hues passed and fell around them. For all the flack they could both give Lunewell - a lack of internet service, isolation from almost everything, and navigational systems that were seemingly built by a sadist - neither could deny that living there on mornings like this was truly a magical experience.

Or would be, were it not for the unfortunate scenario.

“Oh I hope she’s alright,” Grant panted out, slightly out of breath from the speedwalking that bordered on jogging. Working in antiques was unfortunately not a field that kept one in great physical condition, and in moments like this it truly showed.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Bruin reassured, “thinking logically, we know nothing serious has happened,” probably, “so it’s most likely something mundane, slightly ominous at best.”

Grant looked unsure at that, but didn’t say anything. Under the glasses, Bruin could practically see the well-oiled cogs turning in his head, eyes glaze as though lost in the mechanical world. It was his typical zoning out look, which was for once highly appreciated, as Bruin himself was in no mood to talk.

They walked up the path, letting the old, wooden store come into view. It seemed no different than yesterday, albeit much darker, except for, alarmingly enough, a room in the upstairs flat. They shared a questioning look, panic visible on both their faces, before speeding up and half-sprinting to the door.

With a lead ball in his stomach, Bruin realised that the door was not only unlocked, but stood slightly ajar. He shoved it further open, with an urgency but still lightly, as not to break any antiques.

Even the golden rays of autumn sun couldn’t hide the ruins of the shop. The furniture was at a slight angle, as though a lash had come whipping at the legs, the fragile glass and ceramics that had been close to shattering finally lay dead and dismembered on the floor, and most concerningly, there was an unidentifiable black liquid smelling vaguely of ozone.

“Zarifa?” Grant began calling, stepping over the mess with all the grace of a drunk octopus, “Zari? Boss? Are you in there?” Bruin followed his shouting companion, straightening the furniture as he went. They made it to the counter, still no sight of her, though that was changed as they heard a thunderclap of a sound emitting from the backroom.

They were in the employees’ lounge within seconds of the sound, greeted by the sight of an unusually casually dressed Zarifa surrounded by long walls of antiques, stacked in an organised manner. “Oh good,” she said, upon seeing them, giving them a warm smile that reached her tired eyes, “you made it.”

Bruin wasn’t so much looking at her, as staring at the large pile of antiques behind her. Some of them he recognised, like the ‘Girl in Field’ painting, or that odd statue of an old man made of clay, 200 years old, but painted in a cornflower blue pigment that could be no more than 100, though there were also surprisingly a lot of pieces he had no recollection of seeing. Zarifa, noticing his staring, looked at him apologetically; “Sorry I had to dismantle your system. I tried to keep the organisation, and I promise I’ll help sort it afterwards.”

“It’s fine. I’ll sort it myself,” he assured, not quite sure he truly trusted anyone to touch what he had sorted. Grant was a disaster on legs, and for as much as Zarifa was good at keeping schedule, she lacked the sheer efficient sorting instinct he had had since childhood. “Why is it all up here? Was there water in the basement again?”

Zarifa shook her head, before pulling a slightly splintered, old, wooden box with a golden, dust-painted leaf-engraving on top from behind one of the piles. Bruin’s eyes widened as he remembered where it had previously been, involuntarily glancing upstairs, and then back down to Zarifa. She hadn’t really… had she? No one had ever been in Valours flat, hell, no one even had the key to it.

She opened the lid cautiously, the box creaking as ancient and rusted hinges pulled back. She pulled out aged, folded paper, and slowly laid it down in Bruins hands. Though he would of course properly examine it later, he could tell it was far older than anything he was comfortable holding with his bare, gloveless hands. “It’s more sturdy than it looks,” comforted Zarifa, upon seeing his panicky stature, “go ahead, open it up.”

With a force comparable to a feather, he opened it in precise, calculated movements. He winced as he saw the handwriting, the fine, thin squiggles dating the paper to 300 years old at least, letting go of the note to the point it was barely still in his hands. He felt Grant peeking over his shoulder, and down onto the note curiously, mumbling the words as he read down the torn page.

It wasn’t a very long read, but it added tenfold to the confusion. “What seal?” Grant eventually asked, looking up at Zarifa, “this is the page blonde-pink-girl wanted, right? Why would anyone want this?”

Zaria sighed, looking at the paper with a darkness in her eyes. She looked contemplative, opening her mouth a few times to begin a sentence, before shaking her head and going back to thought. Finally, after tracing the golden part of the box a few rounds, silence echoing the room, she spoke; “We’ve all had encounters with Them before, right?”

Even with that single word, everyone in the room instantly Knew what she was talking about. It was Them that had drawn the entire group to the shop, Them that had left that hollowness that lived in all their eyes, Them that left all of them flinching at sounds and throwing hurried glances over shoulders, and most importantly, Them that created the bond they all shared.

Zarifa signed; “Take a seat, boys. This might require a bit of an explanation.”

—————- After a long, long conversation, involving the raiding of Valour’s alcohol stash for some well earned drinking, along with expensive chocolates for an alcohol-abstaining Bruin, all had finally been explained. There was a silence in the air, tinged in cheap wine and dread, as they all looked intently at the ornate box. “So,” Grant said, clasping his hands ripping away the silence like a band-aid, “we’re dealing with a big orb, monster thingy, which intentions are unknown, who kidnapped our intruder who was reading text that made vines sprout around her and smoke fill her eyes.”

“Yeah, that sums up what I experienced this morning nicely.”

Grant blinked, Bruin hurrying his mouth which had been firmly hidden deeper in his palm. “Fucking hell, I need another drink,” Grant exclaimed with a groan, reaching his hand out with his designated office mug towards Bruin.

“You guys are all out,” Bruin said with a tired voice, “besides, I don’t think alcohol is the wisest right now. I think we should try to figure out what actually happened.”

“Good idea,” Zarifa said with a nod, “we can begin with the note. Funnily enough, it’s the easiest thing here to deconstruct.” She took the box and gave it one last glance over, before rotating it away from herself and giving Grant and Bruin the opportunity to see it; “Obviously the seal is referring to the monster. I think it’s just a matter of gathering the ingredients, and whatever happened, will be reversed.”

Bruin, more than prepared, had already pulled out his black notebook and found an empty page. He looked once again at the section of the note containing the ingredients:

A key is forged by fragments of Touched sanity eating a sight of one that Sees, dipped in water oh-so divine. Once the key has begun, the fragments must sew themselves between the fabric, letting all webbed light shine on them. As they are blessed by the minute, and after the final step of-

And out of the nonsense, quickly jotted down the list of ideas that had been proposed by a slightly tipsy Grant, and an unusually frantic Zarifa;

Fragmented Touched sanity (Magic mind? Pieces of brain?) Sight of one that Sees (Some creature’s eyes obviously, maybe cow eye cult? (Most likely, Grant’s paranoia over cow eye cult, and not actually cow eye cult)) Water divine (Holy water?) Webbed light (Interconnected grids of light? Light systems?)

Jotting them down like that, was sadly, not very revealing. Partly because all their minds were still reeling, and what they had brainstormed was mostly a series of disjointed thoughts rather than a narrative, and partly because there was still so much hidden at the bottom of the riddle ocean. Bruin could still hardly find himself believing Zarifa’s situation, and had it not been for the black liquid stains he saw himself, the cryptic note, and the wobbly tone of her words as she recounted the events, he probably would have dismissed her as being driven a bit mad by paranoia.

Even now, fully aware of the fact that it was real, he was incredibly tempted to just storm out the shop, notebook in hand. Though he encountered the unearthly almost every time he was in deep slumber, he had never actually had a fully conscious encounter. And those… nightmares, visions - whatever they could be called - had left him gluing the pieces of his mind with only the instinct of survival. A real encounter would break him.

And yet, he couldn’t run. He had nowhere to go. Thorns Antique wasn’t so much a place he had chosen to stay, as a shelter he had desperately thrown himself into. Physically, yes of course he could travel or move. Marcus had been asking him if they could move in together for months, and would be more than elated to take him in. And he was sure he could put that business degree to good use.

But, though he was physically free as a dove, his mental wings were clipped. What was he supposed to do when he inevitably woke up one night in Marcus’s bed, screaming about the knife that he was convinced was lodged in his brain? How would he explain the countless of cryptic, weird, objects littered between pages upon pages of ripped-out death notices? Markus would see him as insane, and any future job he would have wouldn’t tolerate his hazy, obsessive, jumpy, and sleep-deprived state.

Though he did not personally know what their stories really were, he suspected Zarifa and Grant were stranded on the same boat of forbidden knowledge. Zarifa had no interest in history, having a passion for literature instead, and a people-pleasing nature and work ethic that could get her far, and Grant, though a bit of a clumsy idiot, was also incredibly academically bright, and a true cityguy at heart. They were an odd group, but a strongly connected one.

Or, at least somewhat connected.

“I propose we figure out what to do now,” Bruin muttered, after reading the bullet points a couple of times, “I don’t think there’s a standard protocol for situations such as these.”

Zarifa hummed in agreement, leaning against the table with a pensive look, sipping on some more wine. “I think we should prioritise figuring out what the riddle is actually saying,” she said, “and I think most of the answers lay here. There must be some connections between all this supernatural weirdness, and I’m pretty sure it lies in the antiques.”

Bruin and Grant nodded, both pulling the wildly uncomfortable chairs close to the table in a loud, squeaking drag. “As for the stuff that we can’t find the answer to,” Zarifa continued, once everyone was seated, “we can always ask for that.” She turned to Grant; “You’ve called Valour, right?”

Grant blinked, the words taking a few seconds to register, before grimacing sheepishly. “I’ll go do that afterwards, promise.” Bruin sighed, but Zarifa simply nodded. She’d always been a lot more forgiving of his scatterbrain than Bruin.

“I’ll do the same with Lottie. Assuming she’s, well, alive. She probably won’t answer, but it's worth a shot.”

“Thought Lottie didn’t give us her number?” Grant said, Bruin mirroring his confusion. Zarifa stiffened, smile dropping by a minuscule amount.

“She didn’t, but I know how to get in contact with her,” she stated, in her best assertive tone. Before Bruin could ask what she meant by that, she powered on, bulldozing in a purposeful manner. “What about you, Bruin?”

Bruin racked his mind for a good answer, recalling what needed to be done, and all the archival systems they had buried in the husk of a computer. “Every item has a corresponding ID, and a short descriptor. I wouldn’t mind taking a look at both the system and the antiques . However, we’re all out of gloves, and our magnifying glass has been broken for two months, so I’ll head to the shop first.”

While this was completely true, Bruin did leave out the little detail that it was also beyond time to see Marcus again. Through a mix of nightly hauntings, and antique mishaps, the days had somehow slipped by without them having a proper chat. He didn’t so much mind the lack of interaction, as the guilt that came with it.

“Thank you,” Zarifa said with a smile, “and, if it isn’t too much of a bother, please keep an eye out for any… unusual sights.” He nodded, her shoulders slumping down visibly, even under the thick cream turtleneck. Grant then promptly slipped out of the room to give Valour a ring with his smashed phone, and Zarifa headed out the front door and into the shop to tidy what was left of the mess, leaving him all alone.

He buried his hands into his neatly combed hair, tension deflating like a balloon as he exhaled heavily. His head was being squeezed by a thick rubber band, though whether it was the usual sleep deprivation or stress was anyone’s guess, and his eyes were droopy and heavy, as if magnets were attempting to pull them closed.

Nevertheless, he got up, pulling his winter coat and messenger bag off the chair. He left the scarf and hat where they lay, feeling they were a bit over the top considering it was only October. Slipping the black notebook into the black and purple bag, he headed out the door, and towards the outside world, heading in a general life direction he was not fully comfortable with.

#The Lunewell Saga - Natura #the lunewell saga #natura #writing #wip excerpt #original writing #writing wip

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just2bubbly · 3 years

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Celebrity Crush

Masterlist

Summary

“Did Mom have a celebrity crush on Dad?“

This revolves around Kaider but from Torin's POV and Peony here refers to Kai and Cinder's child.

When Peony (gen 2) comes up with a very strange question to Torin!

Ship: Kaider

Words: 1590 words

Torin’ perspective-

"Torin-da, did Mom have a celebrity crush on Dad?" The six-year-old asked the royal advisor with wonder-waiting eyes.

The Advisor on the other hand was very much panicked, wondering how the young princess got to know about the word 'crush'. He suspected she had picked on this word from one of her visit to Carswell Thorne. He wanted to rub the fact that 'Sending his daughter to Mr Thorne was not the best decision' in Emperor Kaito's face- but he would do no such thing.

"Where did you learn the word 'crush' Peony?" he asked dodging her previous question.

"Uh-.. Actually, Uncle Thorne said that Aunt Cress had a crush on him, so I just searched what the word meant." She said avoiding eye contact, just like any child caught red-handedly stealing from the jar of cookies would do.

"I don't think you should look into words like 'crush' as the age of 6" he warned, collecting his stuff to leave.

"But Torin-da, I am about to turn 7 next month" she swore, running off to block him from leaving away.

"Well, that does not make you any older to know about the word, young lady." He said with a bit of grand-fatherly authority to his voice. Not necessarily that he was scolding the curious child; she was hardly the one being scolded because of her cute actions and sweet voice.

"Torin-da but what of my earlier question?" she asked her voice full of determination.

"Why don't you go and ask Kaito?" he suggested, obviously playing the child around. He remembered how even Kai had taken up liking to the word 'shit' when he had heard President Vargas saying it. He had pestered Torin with his questions for weeks but due to royal protocol, Torin faced his curiousness with nothing but an emotionless face. At last, he had gone to former Emperor Rikan, who had laughed at Kai and explained a few things to the young prince, years ago.

"Torin-da!" she shouted in his face to get his attention, "Did Mommy have a celebrity crush on Dad?" she continued.

"Why do you think that?" he cross-questioned the little princess who was set on a mission to know if Cinder had a crush on Kai.

"Well, you see Mommy was a mechanic before she became the Queen and Dad- well he was THE PRINCE, so he was a celebrity" she explained slowly as if explaining two plus two equals four to a child. Even though little Peony looked like Cinder, she had taken after Kai in all ways possible. She had picked up her parent's sarcasm like she would not. However, her speaking style, her small conquests in the Palace reminded Torin too much of little Kai.

"Your Mommy was the Princess of Luna too, Peony. Why would she have a crush on Kai?"

She stared at him with a look of confusion upon that remark, another one of Kai's speciality again. After what felt like a few minutes of silence, she blamed, "Torin-da you are fooling me around. I can see through it. Tell me did Mom have a celebrity crush on Dad? "

He sighed realizing that it was going to be one interesting afternoon with little Peony. Hence, he decided to keep his work aside for some time and sat down with the little child on the nearby sofa.

"You see Peony darling, I think it was the other way around." He stated.

"Meaning?" she asked, her curiosity perked up, now that Torin was giving her his full attention.

"I mean that Daddy had a celebrity crush on Mommy!" he exclaimed to the very confused child.

"Really?" she asked with her eyes full of doubt, she was only believing it because the royal advisor was saying things.

"Yeah," he said with the same wondrous tone as that of the six- soon-to-be seven-year-old.

"You are saying that Mommy was Daddy's celebrity crush growing up?" she asked to confirm with her wide brown eyes.

Torin nodded. He waited to continue till she had digested this new piece of information.

"Actually Kai idolized your Mom for some amount of time and he was so in love with her." He said, wondering if Peony was interested to hear about her parents or for that matter, her parent's love life or was he over-stepping some of his boundaries-

"Continue Torin-da! And what do you mean by idolizing?" she crowed, cutting short his train of thought.

"Idolize means someone who they want to be like-as in worship or admiring Peony" he explained to the child who had yet time to master the vast oceans of the English language.

This unknown information seemed to increase her curiosity ten folds. The little child had no idea how Kai had a crush the size of Luna on the young princess Selene and later on mechanic Cinder, who turned out to be the same person. He internally smiled- wondering what a calamity it would have been if Selene and Cinder would not be the same person!

She subtly asked, "But why would The Emperor idolize a mechanic?"

"Peony," he said somewhat scolding the child, "all jobs are important, just because the emperor is famous does not mean that the mechanic is not an important part of the society. Your mother was the best one in the entire New Beijing. I am not sure but I think she is yet the Best Mechanic in the city."

"Sorry", she muttered under her breath while he continued with his narration. The six-year-old had no idea what her parents had gone through. They had yet decided against telling her about their hardships, so he decided to keep the descriptions at the minimum.

"Your Mom was a Hero for the world. You might not know it, but she saved the world even while being a mechanic- She was brave. Your Dad liked her for that, he admired her bravery. Later, when your mom was fighting against evil, your dad could not help her but that did not stop him from thinking of her every single second."

"Torin-da, are you saying Dad liked Mom before her?" she asked now seeing the entire scenario in an entirely different light.

"I guess yes." He confirmed, smilingly at the little child's innocence to understanding her parent's life.

"As far as I remember, Kai was completely blinded by his love for the scrawny mechanic he had seen in a garage, which would be your Mom, Peony"

"Did he talk about Mom to you, when she was being a hero?" she blurted.

"Not exactly, he just thought about her. I was not very fond of your Mom back then." He confessed.

"Why? Mom is so lovely!" she exclaimed, already defending The Empress.

"We had different thoughts and I did not know her back then but it would be a story for another day, Peony."

She nodded, obviously not liking things being kept hidden from her. She was a born seeker for information- especially her parents. Why everyone adored them was much of a mystery to her until recently!

"Torin-da, I want to confirm so Dad liked Mom as a mechanic and not as a Lunar Queen?" she asked.

"Absolutely! He had that-"

"Celebrity crush!" she provided, clapping her hands.

Laughing at the child's antics, he said, "Yeah, your Dad had a 'Celebrity crush' on Mom."

"I am going to tell Mom this- Bye Torin-da!" She said running off to find Cinder. Peony looked like someone who had just learned a dear secret and was about to break it off to their best friend. She had no idea how her mom already knew that. The Emperor might still have a celebrity crush on his wife, he will never know.

Collecting his things, he was ready to walk out of the chamber. Until, the Emperor walked on him, a look of amusement on his face.

"Torin, "

"Your Majesty-" he said out of habit, doubting that Kai might have heard the entire conversation between the two.

"-I had a celebrity crush on Cinder?"

"Oh! Please Kaito, the child insisted to know the truth. Besides you do have a crush on Cinder."

"Stop telling my daughter that, Torin," he said, the tip of his ears slightly turning red.

"Well Peony might have guessed it sooner rather than later, Your Majesty-' he said, grinning at the Emperor.

"And if I were you I would stop her before she goes to The Empress," he advised.

"There's nothing to hide about what Cinder already knows of. However, if she comes to me lecturing about morals and values that Peony should learn, I am definitely sending her to you, Torin"

It was another interesting afternoon for the royal advisor with his new student. Only God knew how many more were to come yet!

A/N: This was not actually Kaider fluff but Kaider fluff at the same time and I also wanted to write something from Torin's perspective so here's my take. I think it turned out pretty good. I had to actually ask my cousin if he knew meanings of words like 'admire' or 'idolize' to figure out if Peony would know them. Torin-da was supposed to mean like ‘dada’ used in the sense of grandfather in many Asian countries. Phew! things I have to do for imagining things!

Be sure to like, reblog and comment, if you like it!

#kaider fanfiction #kaider #peony linh #peony #linh cinder #gen 2 #kaito #emperor kaito #konn torin #celebrity crush #the royal advisor and the young princess #just2bubbly fics #lunar chronicles #marrisa meyer #all characters belong to the author #cinder #fluff #just talks #parenting

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jadelotusflower · 3 years

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Roundup: August 2021

This month: Jane Eyre, Wide Sargasso Sea, Don’t Call it a Cult, The Secret Garden, Showbiz Kids, Masters of the Universe: Revelation, Lucifer.

Reading Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte) - I’ve been meaning to read the Wide Sargasso Sea for a long, long time, but first I thought I’d revisit the source material. I find my opinion hasn’t much changed - I still love the prose, still love Jane as a character, and still find Rochester extremely unappealing. The section with Jane at school is the most engaging for me, and her early time as a governess at Thornfield, but as soon as Rochester shows up I just find him so irritating I have no idea why Jane loves him so much (other than he was the first man to ever show her a scrap of attention). I mean, I know to an extent - I've read the Takes, and part of fiction is accepting what you want for the character as a reader and what they want for themselves can be two different things, and that's not the fault of the text. I can be satisfied by the ending because Jane gets what she wants, I just can’t help but wonder about a Jane who was found by John Eyre before she went to Thornfield, or who took her inheritance and made her own way after Moor House. Byronic heroes just aren't my thing I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Wide Sargasso Sea (Jean Rhys) - The first Mrs Rochester of Jane Eyre strikes an uneasy tone to a modern reader; she does not utter a word in the novel, is depicted as animalistic and almost demonic, her story only told in a self-serving manner by Rochester, and conveniently disposed of so Jane can return to claim him. Rhys reimagines Bertha as Antoinette, a “white Creole” of Jamaica in a postcolonial take on the racial/social prejudices and hierarchy only hinted at in Eyre, where Bertha being Creole primarily an aspect of her Otherness, and in which Rochester describes himself as being desired as a husband because he was "of good race" . In Sea, although Antoinette is white (passing, perhaps), he sees her "not English or European either" and this contributes to his rejection of her (and perhaps his willingness to believe she is mad). The novel is surprisingly short - it skips over the meeting and courtship of Antoinette and Rochester (tellingly unnamed in the novel) entirely, jumping directly from her childhood/coming of age to the couple already married, and over much of Bertha's (renamed by Rochester) sad life in the attic. Still, there's a density to the writing, much is implied beyond the sparse use of words and recurring imagery - subjugation, reflection, and of course, fire - when freed slaves (Rhys changes the timeframe to after the passing of the Emancipation Act of 1833) set fire to Antoinette's family plantation, a pet parrot whose wings have been clipped by her English step-father Mason, cannot flee and falls to a fiery doom, in a grim omen of Bertha's fate. It did, however, leave me wanting more - I understand Rhys' stylistic choices and restraint, but in her effort to give voice to the voiceless, Antoinette/Bertha remains somewhat an enigma. Don’t Call it a Cult: Keith Raniere and the women of NXIVM (Sarah Berman) - I continue to be disturbed but intrigued by the NXIVM case, not only because of my abhorrence of MLMs/pyramid schemes, but my bafflement as to how this thoroughly unremarkable man was able to hold sway over so many women. My mild criticism of the two documentaries on this subject was that they tended to jump around in time so you never really got a good idea of what happened when. This book provides a well researched, detailed summary of events and linear chronology of Raniere’s perverse pathology reaching all the way back to childhood, and so is both an excellent supplement to the already informed, and broad overview to those new to the case. Berman is a Vancouver-based journalist who was present at Raniere’s trial and gives insight into witness testimony, supported by her own interviews and extensive research. There's less of a focus on the sensationalised celebrity members, with greater emphasis on the lesser known victims - including the three Mexican sisters who were all abused by Raniere, one of whom was kept confined to a room for years. It's difficult reading, consolation being the

knowledge that Raniere is rotting in prison and that his crimes finally caught up with him. Watching The Secret Garden (dir. Marc Munden) - Spoilers, if one needs a spoiler warning for a 110 year old novel. One of those stories that is adapted every generation, and generally I have no problem with this, since new adaptations can often bring something new or be a different take on old material (see Little Women 2019). But a part of me can’t help feel why bother with this when the perfect 1993 version exists. There is an Attempt at something new with this film, moving the setting forward to 1947 (Mary’s parents having died during the Partition), and turning the garden from a small walled secret to a mystical, huge wonderland full of ferns and flowers and endless sun. But in doing so, the central metaphor is lost - rather than Mary discovering something abandoned and run wild, gently bringing it back to life with love and care, she merely discovers a magical place that requires no effort on her part. There’s also less of a character arc for Mary, remaining unpleasant far into the proceedings, forcing Colin to visit the garden instead of it being his true wish, and generally succeeding by imposing her will on everyone else. In many ways she’s more like Burnett's other child heroine Sarah Crewe - the film opens I’m with her telling stories to her doll including Ramayana, which is eerily reminiscent of Alfonso Cuaron's (also perfect) 1995 adaptation of A Little Princess. But I suppose a sliver of credit where it's due - Julie Walters' Mrs Medlock is less of an antagonist, with Colin Firth's Lord Craven being Mary's primary obstacle. There's also a subplot with Mary's mother's depression following the death of her sister being the reason for her neglect (and Merlin alum Rupert Young shows up briefly as Mary's father) but like shifting the time period, there just doesn't seem to be a point to it. The climax of the film involves the Manor burning down (writer Jack Thorne stealing from Rebecca too, lol), with Mary and Craven have a very calm conversation as fire and smoke surrounds them. It’s all very bizarre, but also…rather dull? Don't bother with this, just watch the 1993 film again. Showbiz Kids (dir. Alex Winter) - a really interesting documentary on the titular subject - Winter was himself a child actor on Broadway before his film career kicked off in The Lost Boys and Bill and Ted, and has been able to assemble a broad range of interview subjects - Mara Wilson, Evan Rachel Wood, Wil Wheaton, Jada Pinkett Smith among others - former child actors, those still in the business, and some up and comers like Disney star Cameron Boyce (who I was sad to see in the coda has passed away). We also follow two young hopefuls - Marc, attending acting classes and auditioning in pilot season, yet to book a job but his parents are invested in "his" dream, and Demi, already established on Broadway but having to start to make choices between a career and a childhood. There's no voiceover, no expert opinions in this, letting the actors speak for themselves, but there is a telling juxtaposition of Marc returning home, jobless but having fun in the pool with his friends, while Demi has to cancel the summer camp she had been so looking forward to because she has booked a new role. The film is fairly even handed, but ultimately I took away that there just seems to be more harm than not in this industry, and abuses of many kinds. It does make you wonder about the ethics of child acting, at least in the current system where the cautionary tales are plentiful. Masters of the Universe: Revelation (episodes 1-5) - Mild spoilers I guess? I was never really into He-Man as a kid, other than the Secret of the Sword movie, so most of the in jokes and references in this went over my head. I have to admit, it was actually seeing all the outrage that made me want to check this out and see what all the complaining was about. I actually…really enjoyed it?!? I’m sympathetic to the complaints of a bait and switch (creators really need to learn to say

“just wait and see”), but other than that in my view the rest seemed completely unfounded. Adam/He-Man being killed in the first episode and the impact that has on Eternia and those left behind is actually a really interesting premise. This isn’t a TLJ situation; in contrast everyone (except Evil-Lyn) is always going on about how much they miss Adam, and the whole point of the first arc is him coming back. There’s also a nice little detail of Adam in Preternia (heroes heaven) choosing to remain as he is rather than as He-Man where all his predecessors have chosen their “ultimate” forms. I love him and his Magical Girl transformation. As for Teela - female characters can’t win, it seems. If they are perfect, they’re Mary Sues, if they have flaws, they’re unlikeable. Teela is Going Through things and is on a journey, but I often feel (and it seems the case here) that people confuse a character arc with author intent. No! Just because a character says/does something it doesn't mean you're supposed to agree with them! Some of Teela's actions may be petty and her demeanor less than sweet, but people make bad choices as a response to grief, and I actually thought her anger over Adam never telling her his secret and how that manifested was a pretty interesting take. I'll be interested to see the next half of the season, and ignore the ragebait youtube commentary. One more thing - Evil-Lyn (perfectly voiced by Lena Headey) was an absolute delight. Lucifer (season 5 part 2): They’ve basically given up on the procedural side of things by now and are leaning heavily into the mythology, which works for me since the case of the week is always the least interesting part of any show. It also struck me this season that there’s gender parity in the main cast (Lucifer, Amenadiel, Dan and then Chloe, Maze, Ella, Linda) - and actually, that’s more women than men. How often does that happen?!? I can’t say I’m particularly engaged with the Lucifer/Chloe pairing, but am happy to go along with it since that’s where the whole plot revolves. The best scenes for me this season were with God’s Dysfunctional Family, even if the lead up to the finale felt rushed (I understand the need to wrap things up in case of cancellation but still). I would have liked to see more of the sibling dynamics between the angels and less romantic drama, but hey. The character death got me, as well. I didn't see it coming and I didn't realise how much I had enjoyed that character until they were gone and well...it got me. I see the last season is coming soon, I'm not exactly sure where they can go from here, but looking forward to it nonetheless. Writing I was actually quite sick this month with a throat infection, so wasn't in the best frame of mind to get anything finished like I had planned to. I'm going to hold off posting the word count this month and roll it over to September when hopefully I've actually posted things.

#roundup #reading watching writing #august roundup

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