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onesunofagun · 3 years

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Undeath in the Era of the Hero of Time : 1

aka Seeing the Hero’s Shade in this TP replay shook up all my feelings of agony again and now I’m working backwards from there because I like to hurt myself.

Part One: An Overview of How Fucked Things Are ™

aka The Blood Soaked Hyrule of OoT’s time

Take it as you will, in the Zeldaverse, the colour green has an overwhelming association with undeath.

Sure, sure, life too, I hear you. Farore came down and produced all the living beings that would uphold the law, apparently (specifically not claiming monsters and demons, but that’s another thing). On the surface, that make sense. Forests, lush green fields, prosperity, all of those good things. Green the colour of the most common rupee, green the colour of the Hero’s tunic. Green the colour of magic, and potions that revitalise the body and spirit.

The thing is, revitalising the body and spirit is a flexible idea. To imbue something with new life and vitality can have a lot of implications, especially when you stop talking about the strictly living.

I feel vitality is certainly the best word, not only because of it’s association with life and potency ala the Goddess origin stories, but in the ways that the game uses green itself, such as a measure of both magic and stamina. Green is the colour chosen to represent the unlocked potential within young Heroes.

Vitality specifically refers to a state of being strong and active, and it also refers to the continuance of something to exist. That’s a great thing for plants, or economies, or a potion taken by a young Link who’s swung their sword around or fired off a spell one too many times and feels a little low.

But the dead, though?

As it happens, Hyrule is absolutely littered with human remains, in no small part due to the very recently ended civil wars.

The Civil War, if you need the reminder, is described as a time when the many races of Hyrule were divided and each focused on establishing dominion over the Sacred Realm (because Triforce). I touched on this in my last meta post, but basically, its no holds barred to stop that from happening because if the wrong person gets into the Sacred Realm and makes a wish, it immediately malfunctions.

The criteria for getting into the Sacred Realm and touching the Triforce without royally fucking everything, is basically impossible for anybody not chosen by Hylia.

If you are neither of Hylia’s Bloodline (The Hyrulean Royal Family) or one of her Chosen Avatars (The current incarnation of the Hero), you are not supposed to touch the Triforce. Ever. You WILL be found wanting, it WILL shatter, the Sacred Realm WILL be corrupted by your selfish desires, it WILL unleash and onslaught of mystical influence (reflecting your heart) onto the country.

Now, if it’s Zelda or Link who touches it, that’s fine. Good vibes will pour out. An age of prosperity will ensue. The Sacred Realm is in its default state, a blank and neutral wellspring of magical force.

The game has been rigged from the get go because Hylia still had a job to do. She had to get creative because Demise almost captured the flag, so to speak, leading to the snafu of the Cycle and all that because she cheated at the game, but ultimately Hylia’s task was to guard the Triforce. And that still remains true, for the most part. The Hyrulian Royal Family (and the Shiekah by extension) had to stop at absolutely nothing to win the wars and unify the country, and retain the stasis of the Realm and Triforce, because that’s what their divine orders are.

That’s what they’re supposed to do, ‘the very reason that they’re born’, to lend a quote from King Daphnes. With Hylia on their side by default, they’re willing to do a lot of fucked up things to make sure that happens, ‘for the greater good’.

These dark times are a result of our deeds... -- TP Zelda

In OoT The Sheikah are known as the Shadow Folk. They are heavily associated with death, whether that is caring for the dead’s rest in the graveyard, or working as spies and assassins on behalf of the Royals, or dabbling in various forms of necromancy. Red eyes are an established trait of their people. I will note that, at least from a Japanese point of view, red is often used with the intention of intimidating evil spirits. But it is also a color identified with power and vitality.

So, one could suppose, the Sheikah red eye also symbolises power/control over evil and darkness (spiritually).

That’s a little something that plays nicely with things like the OoT Manga’s explanation of the tear on the eye (and the previous betrayal of the Royal family) and the high probability of a Shiekah faction defaulting during the wars and being banished with other traitors to become the Twili. I know the manga isn’t canon and also SS Impa has a tear, but if you squint, that might be because of her own feelings of personal failure to the Goddess after Hylia’s shedding of her Divinity. You could headcanon that. The existence of the Yiga later in BoTW as a similar happening of division and betrayal lend some more weight to things.

Also, Sheikah who defaulted during the civil war might have even been the ones who actually utilised the Shadow Temple.

Headline: Necromancer ninjas in the process of torturing enough info out of the enemies of the Royal family, who were reportedly seeking the Sacred Realm, decide ‘hey fuck it, let’s take it ourselves’.

That certainly fits into the description of, ‘interloper skilled with dark magic started to appear, seeking dominion of the Sacred Realm’, for me.

Anyway, to the point.

In ostensibly one of the most haunted areas of the game, Kakariko village, we’re treated to the Graveyard and the Royal Family’s Tomb, the Shadow Temple, and the Bottom of the Well. All of these showcase the obvious death and torture that went on, as well as the creepy byproducts of places so saturated with blood, pain, regret, and hatred.

There are skulls in little alcoves on the walls of the catacombs, literally built of bones, who deliver messages to Link. The ones that whisper these messages are all marked by the glowing green eye sockets. Here, the green is used to make the presence of a ghostly sentience inhabiting the skull.

Unsettling. Musty. 4/10 heebie-jeebies.

The Deadhand, giver of childhood trauma that it is, really does its job to hammer home the fact that there has been so many deaths, so much anguish and horror, that those remains can seemingly form into entirely new monstrosities. An amalgamate of undead flesh and nightmare fuel, made up of the body parts of torture victims and the grudges of lingering spirits, seeking to consume the living vitality of whatever comes near-- Link wearing green around the thing might as well be red to a bull.

When defeated in game, it typically drops a small green pot that refuels Link’s magic.

This is a common theme with undead enemies, specifically the ones that are of the zombie flavour. Redeads, Gibdos, Deadhands. All of them generally give up, effectively, distilled magic as a drop item.

Terrifying. Probably smells even worse. 11/10 heebie-jeebies.

Literal torture device. So many people died here, the room has a green tinge to it. It is soaked in the spiritual imprint of the pain and anguish that took place here. Blood sits here looking freshly spilled, despite the civil war ending many years prior and the Shiekah having ‘died out’, save Impa.

Elsewhere in the temple and under the well, blood splatters are darker red and at least have the decency to pretend to be old. This means one of two things:

Impa still has to make sacrifices to the Seal that contains Bongo Bongo, or feeds people to the undead creatures who lurk down in the dark so they don’t wander up. (Cue the gasp of ‘so that’s why she let the Hylians into Kakariko! Every so often one of them goes missing!’)

Which is a fun dark headcanon to play with, but probably not the case.

Or more likely, the residual spiritual energy that the green haze suggests manifests fresh blood in a manner typical of extreme hauntings. For the victims, their hatred and pain persists so strongly, that their blood seeps up from the cracks no matter how long it has been.

Poltergeist shit. Slip hazard. 8/10 heebie-jeebies.

Then there is this. Some people say its just another torture thing, it could have been intended to convey some sort of acid dip. If not torture, maybe bodily disposal. And sure, that’s a reasonable guess.

But it is at the very bottom most cavern of the Well of Three Features, and if it were acid-- for how long the bodies have just been marinating in it-- you can assume nothing would be left of them to stick out. And the fact that all the bodies are neatly spaced, with the arms oddly preserved. They’re presumably like that from lowering bodies in from the wooden beams, the victims may have been tied up with their arms straight upwards.

But, given the Redeads wandering around nearby, I’m pretty sure that’s what this thing does. Make Redeads.

The liquid itself hurts Link, but Link is also alive, and this pool seems to be lacking much of a glow. It’s green, sure, but it’s not exactly teeming with energy. And I think that might be part of its designated purpose-- extracting that green vital energy from living prisoners, draining them until they’re dead. I’m talking juicing people and scooping out the good stuff like the pulp from a really disturbing OJ.

But still steeped in the juice as a corpse, you’re basically pickled in magic brine, so then those gross husks crawl out as Redeads. (Hey, you know what’s handy in wartime? Scaring the shit out of enemy forces by sending some zombies at them. And if they kill them, you’ve lost nothing. If the Sheikah could actually control them? Undead soldiers. Excellent stuff.)

But all the pulpy good stuff is gone, and has been for a while, so most of the bodies in there haven’t pickled in enough magic to reanimate, I suppose.

Human juicer that churns out zombies. Out of juice currently. 6/10 heebie-jeebies.

Now, THIS is active zombie juice, if I’ve ever seen it.

This is the Royal Family’s Tomb, by the way. Note the skeletons, picked clean, missing a lot of bones. And that’s a choice they made, because there are also full skeletons around to find.

There are plenty of Redeads down there, for good measure, so I’m going to assume the skeletons are potential graverobbers who were eaten. If Sheikah can presumably command the dead, then the Redeads down there might actually be a counter measure against thieves. If a thief freaks out in the dark when he realises there’s undead down there trying to eat their face, there is also a good likelihood they’ll trip and splash into this green death. A few seconds of exposure is probably enough to kill the average person, and then if their corpse stews for a bit, you have another Redead.

Their living energy revitalises the goop. Their body becomes bolstered security measures. It’s a self sustaining system.

Horrific but effective. 5/10 heebie-jeebies.

Also, there’s a chance that a couple of the skeletons or one or two Redeads down there are the remains of the Composer Brothers. But they will get their own special part in this series, covering Poes in particular.

But for the moment, let it be noted: their eyes are also that ghostly green.

Poes are spirits that are unable to move on and who have the unfortunate fate, if left unattended, of turning into phantom monsters who forget their human selves and prey on the living. They tend to pop up the most in two places. One, the Kakariko Graveyard, is obvious and somewhat expected. Dead people, lots of lingering spirits, most of them probably Sheikah and Knights of renown who died in the line of duty. Understandable.

So when you apply the same thought to the fact that Hyrule field is the second most common place to find them, you may as well be concluding that it’s an enormous mass grave of war casualties.

We have established that mass quantities of concentrated death, especially earth that is saturated by the spilled blood of strong soldiers and highly skilled warriors (full of life and magic, as it were), can result in creepy shit made from human remains reanimating over time.

Poes share their haunting of the field with these bumpkins:

These hauntings are not the result of Ganondorf, or the corruption of the Sacred realm. They are not a particular curse placed by anybody.

The Poes and Stalfolk are present in the game from the very beginning, and quite normal fare for Hyrulean life. Lon Lon ranch and castle town are walled off for good reason, and the drawbridge raises at night specifically in response to the literal skeleton monsters who roam around at night.

Stalchildren, specifically, seem akin to the Deadhand in that they are not a direct reanimation of any one particular set of remains. Rather, they seem to be mutated amalgamations of various parts. In the case of the Stalchildren, they rise up under the dark of night, a not-quite-human formation of bone and magic. They seem to possess an aimless drive to attack, perhaps possessed still by the orders of the soldiers who died there.

Interestingly, in a somewhat similar fashion to BotW’s blood moon reanimating the fallen monsters (due to the potency of Malice in the land peaking at those times), Stalchildren only seem to be active under the moonlight. They disintegrate when the sunlight touches them, which promotes the idea that they are the bones of the fallen possessed by the ghostly memory of the war.

They also appear to wear raggy leather kilts, which is a feature they share with the related monster, the Stalfos, who are often acting out the part of a soldier as well. Even better, those bastards are actually WEARING GREEN, to boot, which given the history of Hyrulean Knights prior and their uniforms (SS and Minish cap) is pretty self evident.

Stalfos, however, are also confirmed as humans who have died under certain unique circumstance (such as the magical influences of the Lost Woods) and reanimated as a consequence of what I assume is basically magic poisoning.

It could be a bit like an overdose, succumbing under the intense mystical forces at play within proximity to the Deku Tree (which the strong of spirit can resist). It could be a draining effect, maybe even just a gaseous version of what’s happening when people come into contact with the green goo, except extracted by the forest spirits and plants (also possible that the strong of spirit might resist). That could go either way.

The forest absolutely does eat people’s spiritual energy, though. RIP to Grog and Link’s mother. They’re Stalfos now.

"Anybody who comes into the forest will be lost. Everybody will become a Stalfos. Everybody, Stalfos."

Upon killing both kind of Stal, however, the bones rapidly deteriorate into flames.

You guessed it: green.

I’ve already pointed out a BoTW reference already, but to add more context back into this thing about the tie between green and things in Hyrule that refuse to die properly:

That last one is cheap of me I’m sorry but we’ll get to him too

So we have established that green has an overwhelming association with not only life, but states of undeath.

The overview is, things were already pretty fucked in OoT Era before Ganondorf got the Triforce.

On to part 2!

#tloz #legend of zelda ocarina #Ocarina of time #link #zelda lore #zelda meta #zelda theory #zelda theories #zelda discussion #death tw #blood tw #shadow temple #shiekah #stalfos #poes #undead tw #long post #hero of time #hyrulean history

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welllpthisishappening · 3 years

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Welllp These Are Books: the February 2021 Edition

Most of my last month was spent on deadline and waiting for people to respond to my emails, which meant I did not have the time (or energy) to write much of anything, but had plenty of time to read, quite frankly, an absurd number of books. Some of which were very good, some of which were very cheesy, and some of which I have now told multiple people was quite possibly the worst book I have ever read. As always, though, what are my opinions if I am not sharing them with the internet? Ridiculous headlines, links, and those aforementioned opinions under the cut. As always, part two, feel free to send me any and all recommendations. It cannot possibly be worse than this one book. Seriously, you’ll understand in a second.

———

Quite Possibly the First Book I’ve Gone Out of My Way to Buy On Release Day Since Breaking Dawn, Which Says a lot About Me. As a Person.

A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas

Nesta Archeron has always been prickly-proud, swift to anger, and slow to forgive. And ever since being forced into the Cauldron and becoming High Fae against her will, she's struggled to find a place for herself within the strange, deadly world she inhabits. Worse, she can't seem to move past the horrors of the war with Hybern and all she lost in it.

The one person who ignites her temper more than any other is Cassian, the battle-scarred warrior whose position in Rhysand and Feyre's Night Court keeps him constantly in Nesta's orbit. But her temper isn't the only thing Cassian ignites. The fire between them is undeniable, and only burns hotter as they are forced into close quarters with each other.

Meanwhile, the treacherous human queens who returned to the Continent during the last war have forged a dangerous new alliance, threatening the fragile peace that has settled over the realms. And the key to halting them might very well rely on Cassian and Nesta facing their haunting pasts.

Against the sweeping backdrop of a world seared by war and plagued with uncertainty, Nesta and Cassian battle monsters from within and without as they search for acceptance-and healing-in each other's arms.

I’m not kidding when I tell you that I was counting the days until this came out. I was kind of indifferent to Nesta after the original ACOTAR books, but intrigued enough that I was like, I need to read this, and then I did read this and now I care quite a lot about Nesta. And how in love with Cassian she is. And vice versa. Because, let’s be honest, dude is in l o v e. There were some parts of the story I was not super into — namely, Ferye having to die in childbirth. Like, you’re telling me Cassian could have his guts hanging out at one point and we don’t know how to do a c-section? Nah, that ain’t it. Also, pregnancy as a storyline is not always my favorite thing, but more on that in a second. Also, also, here’s a bunch more words about ACOSF.

A “Huh, So That Happened” Sort of Ending. Which Was Disappointing.

A Vow So Bold and Deadly by Brigid Kemmerer

Emberfall is crumbling fast, torn between those who believe Rhen is the rightful prince and those who are eager to begin a new era under Grey, the true heir. Grey has agreed to wait two months before attacking Emberfall, and in that time, Rhen has turned away from everyone--even Harper, as she desperately tries to help him find a path to peace.

Fight the battle, save the kingdom. Meanwhile, Lia Mara struggles to rule Syhl Shallow with a gentler hand than her mother. But after enjoying decades of peace once magic was driven out of their lands, some of her subjects are angry Lia Mara has an enchanted prince and a magical scraver by her side. As Grey's deadline draws nearer, Lia Mara questions if she can be the queen her country needs.

As the two kingdoms come closer to conflict, loyalties are tested, love is threatened, and an old enemy resurfaces who could destroy them all, in this stunning conclusion to bestselling author Brigid Kemmerer's Cursebreaker series.

I loved the first book in this series. Absolutely adored it. So much so that I pretty quickly got the second one and read it. Enjoyed that on its own, but like I said in that one ask, I’m fairly certain A Curse So Dark and Lonely could have very easily been a standalone story. Should have been a standalone story? There was just SO MUCH going on here, and not nearly enough of it was resolved. Plot points just hung by the end of the trilogy, I was not ever entirely convinced Rhen and Harper were actually in love, let alone liked each other, and I thought Rhen got the very short end of an exceptionally cracked stick by the time the whole story wrapped up. Really, I think this tried to do too much in not enough time and there should probably be another book. Also Lia Mara getting pregnant was dumb. There I said it.

Free Books On Amazon Unlimited That Were Better Than Expected, But Also Read Like Fic

The Bargainer Series by Laura Thalassa

Everyone knows that if you need a favor, you go to the Bargainer to make it happen. He’s a man who can get you anything you want … at a price. And everyone knows that sooner or later he always collects.

Callypso Lillis is a siren with a very big problem, one that stretches up her arm and far into her past. For the last seven years she’s been collecting a bracelet of black beads up her wrist, magical IOUs for favors she’s received. Only death or repayment will fulfill the obligations. Only then will the beads disappear.

But for one of his clients, he’s never asked for repayment. Not until now. When Callie finds the fae king of the night in her room, a grin on his lips and a twinkle in his eye, she knows things are about to change. At first it’s just a chaste kiss—a single bead’s worth—and a promise for more.

For the Bargainer, it’s more than just a matter of rekindling an old romance. Something is happening in the Otherworld. Fae warriors are going missing one by one. Only the women are returned, each in a glass casket, a child clutched to their breast. And then there are the whispers among the slaves, whispers of an evil that’s been awoken.

If the Bargainer has any hope to save his people, he’ll need the help of the siren he spurned long ago. Only, his foe has a taste for exotic creatures, and Callie just happens to be one.

No one is going to be able to convince me this wasn’t ACOTAR fan fic. I don’t care about timing or dates, or whatever. The similarities just...did not stop. In all three books, even. There were three books in this series, by the way. Most of which I really enjoyed. I read them all in like four days of email waiting, so they must have been doing something right. Des was a good love interest and I really liked the flashbacks in the first book. Also Callie didn’t super annoy me. That being said, whoever edited this book. Oof. Some of the prose was so goddamn cringe, I literally lol’ed. Right out loud. Every now and then it was like we had to be reminded that Des was a BAD GUY ™ but it felt very Edward “I’m a killer, Bella” Cullen, and Callie’s internal monologue was occasionally hysterical. Not in a good way. Also Temper was the worst. She was so annoying. Every time she talked, I was like, oh, her again. The first book was the best one.

HITTING ALL MY ROM COM BOXES! BASEBALL! ROMANCE! PINING! ONLY VAGUELY UNCOMFORTABLE WHEN THEY HAD SEX IN THE PORT JEFF DUGOUT BECAUSE I’VE BEEN IN THE PORT JEFF DUGOUT.

Fix Her Up by Tessa Bailey

Georgette Castle’s family runs the best home renovation business in town, but she picked balloons instead of blueprints and they haven’t taken her seriously since. Frankly, she’s over it. Georgie loves planning children’s birthday parties and making people laugh, just not at her own expense. She’s determined to fix herself up into a Woman of the World... whatever that means.

Phase one: new framework for her business (a website from this decade, perhaps?)

Phase two: a gut-reno on her wardrobe (fyi, leggings are pants.)

Phase three: updates to her exterior (do people still wax?)

Phase four: put herself on the market (and stop crushing on Travis Ford!)

Travis Ford was major league baseball’s hottest rookie when an injury ended his career. Now he’s flipping houses to keep busy and trying to forget his glory days. But he can’t even cross the street without someone recapping his greatest hits. Or making a joke about his… bat. And then there's Georgie, his best friend’s sister, who is not a kid anymore. When she proposes a wild scheme—that they pretend to date, to shock her family and help him land a new job—he agrees. What’s the harm? It’s not like it’s real. But the girl Travis used to tease is now a funny, full-of-life woman and there’s nothing fake about how much he wants her...

Living her best life means facing the truth: Georgie hasn’t been on a date since, well, ever. Nobody’s asking the town clown out for a night of hot sex, that’s for sure. Maybe if people think she’s having a steamy love affair, they’ll acknowledge she’s not just the “little sister” who paints faces for a living. And who better to help demolish that image than the resident sports star and tabloid favorite.

Legit, I saw the description for this and I was like—did I write this? Kind of. (Shameless plug to read my own rom com, it also has baseball and pining) It didn’t matter, I loved it. Seriously, it hit all my rom com boxes: childhood friends, best friend’s sister, coming back home under duress, FAKE DATING and, let’s be honest, I am not immune to the use of “baby girl” as an endearment. Every time Travis called Georgie “baby girl” I was like, oh, ok, this is cool. It was cool! I only have two quips. One, that the fake dating didn’t last a little longer. The pacing of the story felt very quick, but that’s also this genre’s style. So I kind of get it. And two, that it happened in Port Jefferson, which is a town in Suffolk County that I have not only been to, but have spent significant time in. Meaning I could picture every single thing, knew exactly where they were and have used the exit on the Northern State Parkway that the final moments of the book took place at. The Port Jeff girls basketball team won a Long Island championship last weekend. In real life, not the book.

In Which Spinoffs Continue to be my Kryptonite. Especially Well-Written Ones

Mistletoe and Mr. Right by Sarah Morgenthaler

Lana Montgomery is everything the quirky small town of Moose Springs, Alaska can't stand: a rich socialite with dreams of changing things for the better. But Lana's determined to prove that she belongs...even if it means trading her stilettos for snow boots and tracking one of the town's hairiest Christmas mysteries: the Santa Moose, an antlered Grinch hell-bent on destroying every bit of holiday cheer (and tinsel) it can sink its teeth into.

And really...how hard could it be?

The last few years have been tough on Rick Harding, and it's not getting any easier now that his dream girl's back in town. When Lana accidentally tranquilizes him instead of the Santa Moose, it's clear she needs help, fast...and this could be his chance to finally catch her eye. It's an all-out Christmas war, but if they can nab that darn moose before it destroys the town, Rick and Lana might finally find a place where they both belong...together.

I mentioned The Tourist Attraction in my January list, and this is the second in the Moose Springs trio. And it’s so good! I wish people were all as nice to Lana as Rick was. It’s what she deserved! More small-town antics, more kissing, another moose. This one was just as cute as the original book, especially because it brought back original characters and Zoey and Graham were so goddamn adorable as a committed couple I genuinely feared for the state of my teeth.

Enjoy the View by Sarah Morgenthaler

Former Hollywood darling River Lane's acting career is tanking fast. Determined to start fresh behind the camera, she agrees to film a documentary about the picturesque small town of Moose Springs, Alaska. The assignment should have been easy, but the quirky locals want nothing to do with River. Well, too bad: River's going to make this film and prove herself, no matter what it takes.

Or what (literal) mountain she has to climb.

Easton Lockett may be a gentle giant, but he knows a thing or two about survival. If he can keep everyone in line, he should be able to get River and her crew up and down Mount Veil in one piece. Turns out that's a big if. The wildlife's wilder than usual, the camera crew's determined to wander off a cliff, and the gorgeous actress is fearless. Falling for River only makes Easton's job tougher, but there's only so long he can hold out against her brilliant smile. When bad weather strikes, putting everyone at risk, it'll take all of Easton's skill to get them back home safely...and convince River she should stay in his arms for good.

Wrapping up the Moose Springs trio, this one might have been my least favorite, but that’s not really saying much. Since I loved them all pretty equally. River and Easton’s banter was grade-A, top-notch, which is a one-way ticket to my reading-heart. Maybe part of the problem (I say problem like there really was one) was that most of the story took place on a mountain. I kind of wanted more small-town shenanigans, and updates on the condos and the state of the town and Graham being mayor. Still, this was very cute. I swooned multiple times. I’ll probably read anything Sarah Morgenthaler writes from here on out.

Seriously, What Is YA? Does Anyone Know?

The Beautiful by Renee Ahdieh

In 1872, New Orleans is a city ruled by the dead. But to seventeen-year-old Celine Rousseau, New Orleans is a safe haven after she's forced to flee her life as a dressmaker in Paris. Taken in by the sisters of the Ursuline convent in the middle of the carnival season, Celine is quickly enraptured by the vibrant city, from its music to its fancy soirées and even its danger. She becomes embroiled in the city's glitzy underworld, known as La Cour des Lions, after catching the eye of the group's enigmatic leader, Sébastien Saint Germain.

When the body of one of the girls from the convent is found in Sébastien's own lair--the second dead girl to turn up in recent weeks--Celine battles her attraction to Sébastien and suspicions about his guilt along with the shame of her own horrible secret.

After a third murder, New Orleans becomes gripped by the terror of a serial killer on the loose--one who has now set Celine in his sights. As the murderer stalks her, Celine finally takes matters into her own hands, only to find herself caught in the midst of an age-old feud between the darkest creatures of the night, where the price of forbidden love is her life.

Like I said last month, I put a hold on pretty much everything Renee Ahdieh had written in my library. And this was just as good as the last series I read. Her world building is just—chef’s kiss, gorgeous. I dream of writing this airy, magical way, that makes you feel like you’re in New Orleans. That being said, I do not know what kid is reading this because apparently this is YA and I had to read every single word to figure out what was going on. Now, I know there are two more books in the series, but this one felt like a lot of set up and I spent most of it being like...will this make sense eventually? It did, but only during a very rushed climax of final few chapters. The sequel isn’t available on Kindle at the library, and I haven’t bought it yet. So, that’s probably kind of telling.

In Which You Cannot Always Depend On Old Favorites

No Judgments by Meg Cabot

When a massive hurricane severs all power and cell service to Little Bridge Island—as well as its connection to the mainland—twenty-five-year-old Bree Beckham isn’t worried . . . at first. She’s already escaped one storm—her emotionally abusive ex—so a hurricane seems like it will be a piece of cake.

But animal-loving Bree does become alarmed when she realizes how many islanders have been cut off from their beloved pets. Now it’s up to her to save as many of Little Bridge’s cats and dogs as she can . . . but to do so, she’s going to need help—help she has no choice but to accept from her boss’s sexy nephew, Drew Hartwell, the Mermaid Café’s most notorious heartbreaker.

But when Bree starts falling for Drew, just as Little Bridge’s power is restored and her penitent ex shows up, she has to ask herself if her island fling was only a result of the stormy weather, or if it could last during clear skies too.

I love Meg Cabot. That should be stated upfront and at the very beginning because for a very long time I have claimed that being Meg Cabot was my dream job. I’ve read pretty much every book Meg Cabot has ever written and was fairly certain I’d be into these once I did read them. Only I was...not. Not really. Everything in this book happened so quickly, I felt like I was the one in the hurricane. People were kissing and then they were having sex and there was a storm and pets and then—it was over? The pacing was all over the place, I had no idea why Drew and Bree liked each other, some guy kicked a dog at one point?? It was weird. Which leads us to—

No Offense by Meg Cabot

A broken engagement only gave Molly Montgomery additional incentive to follow her dream job from the Colorado Rockies to the Florida Keys. Now, as Little Bridge Island Public Library’s head of children’s services, Molly hopes the messiest thing in her life will be her sticky-note covered desk. But fate—in the form of a newborn left in the restroom—has other ideas. So does the sheriff who comes to investigate the “abandonment”. When John Hartwell folds all six-feet-three of himself into a tiny chair and insists that whoever left the baby is a criminal, Molly begs to differ and asks what he’s doing about the Island’s real crime wave (if thefts of items from homes that have been left unlocked could be called that). Not the best of starts, but the man’s arrogance is almost as distracting as his blue eyes. Almost…

John would be pretty irritated if one of his deputies had a desk as disorderly as Molly’s. Good thing she doesn’t work for him, considering how attracted he is to her. Molly’s lilting librarian voice makes even the saltiest remarks go down sweeter, which is bad as long as she’s a witness but might be good once the case is solved—provided he hasn’t gotten on her last nerve by then. Recently divorced, John has been having trouble adjusting to single life as well as single parenthood. But something in Molly’s beautiful smile gives John hope that his old life on Little Bridge might suddenly hold new promise—if only they can get over their differences.

This isn’t a sequel SEQUEL, but another one of those “exists in the same universe,” or same town, as it were, and it was better than No Judgments. Molly and John actually had a few legitimate conversations before they started kissing. The conflict was still weird and sort of forced, this was not Meg’s usual banter (I fell like I can call her Meg at this point, y’know?) and, again, the ending just felt like it...happened. I don’t know guys, maybe I should just reread The Boy Is Back. Or that quasi Persephone-Hades series. It’s been awhile. On that one, at least. I read The Boy Is Back like six months ago.

ABSOLUTELY INFURIATING ROM COM THAT I CANNOT BELIEVE I FINISHED, SOMEONE GIVE ME A PRIZE FOR FINISHING THIS

Fight or Flight by Samantha Young

The universe is conspiring against Ava Breevort. As if flying back to Phoenix to bury a childhood friend wasn't hell enough, a cloud of volcanic ash traveling from overseas delayed her flight back home to Boston. Her last ditch attempt to salvage the trip was thwarted by an arrogant Scotsman, Caleb Scott, who steals a first class seat out from under her. Then over the course of their journey home, their antagonism somehow lands them in bed for the steamiest layover Ava's ever had. And that's all it was--until Caleb shows up on her doorstep.

When pure chance pulls Ava back into Caleb's orbit, he proposes they enjoy their physical connection while he's stranded in Boston. Ava agrees, knowing her heart's in no danger since a) she barely likes Caleb and b) his existence in her life is temporary. Not long thereafter Ava realizes she's made a terrible error because as it turns out Caleb Scott isn't quite so unlikeable after all. When his stay in Boston becomes permanent, Ava must decide whether to fight her feelings for him or give into them. But even if she does decide to risk her heart on Caleb, there is no guarantee her stubborn Scot will want to risk his heart on her...

When I tell you guys that this was the worst book I have read in recent memory, I am not kidding. Might actually be the worst book I have ever read. Bar none. And that’s saying something because one time I had to read Ender’s Game in college and that, like, physically pained me. This was awful. Awful people. Awful plot. Awful resolution. AWFUL. Where to start? Well, I’m not going to apologize for spoilers, because God help us all, do not read this book. Ava has been through so many horrible things in her life it was like someone was trying to set a record. Bad parents, cheating ex-boyfriend, dead former best friend who was former because of the cheating ex-boyfriend. Naturally, this made her a control freak because—of course, or something. And Caleb! Oh my God, fucking Caleb Scott. The dickwad. I’ve never rooted for anyone to not get the girl more. When Ava “broke up” with him (they were never really together) I might have cheered. Shitty things does not give you an excuse to be a dick, and Caleb was a dick. Seriously, he started crying about how his ex-fiance KILLED THEIR BABY and I was like—this cannot possibly be a real book. It was! With lots of abortion opinions out of FUCKING nowhere, and weird possessive behavior from, like, every dude in it. Both Ava AND her best friend (not the dead one, a different one) got assaulted at one point. I kept reading solely because I was desperate to see how they rationalized Ava and Caleb getting back together at the end and they didn’t. He showed up on her flight when her boss came up with a fake work trip so he could sit next to her on the plane. What? WHAT?? It was so dumb. So bad. I can’t believe I read it.

#book recs #fiction rec #rom com recs #fantasy recs #laura reads books #i swear i do other things besides read #really #welllp these are books

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darkwritingsnshit · 4 years

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Things Change 2

Warnings: This will turn into a dark fic, not sure when but it’s coming. Please do not read if you’re under 18, or are uncomfortable with dark characters, kidnapping, noncon, asshole characters.

It was hard to pass up an invitation to Asgard, especially such a personal one. The idea of going back to the palace filled you with such bittersweetness. Asgard was as much your home as Vanaheimr, and it had been years since you’d seen its gleaming halls. Even so, you had not been back since the death of the Allmother, the woman who raised you there, you knew there would be an emptiness that would never be filled. Still, you were glad for the invitation. Painful as it may be, Frigga deserved to be honored and it was time you paid your respects, as well as reuniting with old loved ones.

Two moons were more than enough time to get everything together, making sure your home would be waiting safely when you came back. You became excited, the years had slipped by so quickly, it finally struck you that you had not been back to your childhood home for nearly 50 years. You were excited to see what had changed, and to reunite with Thor and Loki. The only drawback was that your attire for Vanaheimr was practical, pants and skirts for working outside, your hands were rough, your clothing was dirty. You were able to find one dress for court, though you hoped that your old chambers still held more court appropriate clothing.

The moons came and passed quickly, before you knew it you were preparing to depart for Asgard. Taking a last wistful look at your home, the trees in the orchard, the gardens and stream, you walked to the end of the lane and turned your eyes skyward.

“Hiemdall, I’m ready to come back.” That was all it took for your world to flash with bright lights, feel a twist in your stomach, and land right next to Hiemdall whose golden eyes were focused on yours intently.

“My dear, you’ve changed so much.” Hiemdall extended his hand which you took to stand back up, the Bifrost always seemed to knock you down when you got where you needed to be.

“Really?” You asked him. True you had changed much in the last few years, but you didn’t think it was that obvious.

“Yes child, you’ve grown. Both inside and out, I can see it in your eyes.” Nothing got past Hiemdall, even when you weren’t trying to hide anything. It was true, he saw everything.

Turning to cross the bridge, you shook your head in a double take of what laid before you. No longer was it a rainbow bridge to the Bifrost, instead it crackled with black and white static, an electrical charge hanging in the air. The kingdom seemed overcast, and dim.

“A soldier here will escort you to the palace my dear.” Hiemdall gestured to an armored soldier who had stepped forward to guide you.

“I’m quite alright Hiemdall, I know my way to the palace,” you replied, shaking your head.

“I’m afraid it’s not a request my lady,” Hiemdall sighed, “the Allfather has ordered an escort to anyone entering or leaving Asgard.”

Confused at the allocation of soldiers in the palace, you looked to Hiemdall but he offered no more information save the slightest shake of the head.

“Very well then,” you replied, and let the Asgardian soldier lead the way.

The very air felt different, the energy was wrong you decided, the landmarks once familiar now changed with time, gold giving way to shadowy silvers, even the tiled walls and murals had been changed. Asgardian soldiers outnumbered the citizens you passed. Silence filled the once bright marketplace, save a fountain gurgling quietly to fill the void. No laughing children or bustling chatter, in fact you hadn’t heard music since you had left Vanaheimr.

When at last the sullen soldiers had walked you to the throne room, you were unprepared for what you saw behind the thick double doors.

Odin had replaced what was a double throne for himself and Frigga with three large thrones, the middle rising above the others. What had been beautiful paintings of the royal family, the prosperity in the realms, victories among friends and celebrations of love had been removed. Instead, bearing down on the room were visions of death; the Allfather leading his sons into a bloody battle, severed heads of Jotun and beasts being slayed. The seating along the walls had been removed, forcing anyone who entered to stand, and to make room for giant skeletal heads of monsters that Odin or his sons had no doubt slain. The sight took your breath away.

“My dear!” Odin’s voice boomed and echoed through the halls. “Come closer child, it’s been too many years.” He opened his arms for an embrace as you hurried down the hall to pay your respects.

“Allfather,” you embraced him warmly as he looked you over.

“My child, are you eating in Vanaheimr? You’ve grown so tall and thin, yet you’re more beautiful than your mother was.” Odin’s words were meant to made you happy, though it was hard to feel joy when someone compared you to a mother you didn’t know and couldn’t picture.

“Not to worry dear, we have arranged an incredible feast for tonight, and we are sure to get you full of food and ale, are we not?” Odin looked over his shoulder to his sons who nodded in enthusiasm. “After quite a journey, surely you would like to rest and retire before tonight’s feast?”

You nodded readily, the entire facelift of Asgard was hard to take in at once. Both the brothers stood after Odin had released you, both seemed to stand taller than before, yet there was no spark of amusement or love in their eyes.

Thor had indeed changed more than Loki; you may not have recognized him if not for his seat at Odin’s right hand. One of Thor’s eyes was now a golden orange, drawing your eyes to his. His hair drawn back and braided, he looked like a warrior taking council, ready to charge back onto the killing fields. Even his armor had changed; no longer plated and studded with iron, he wore what you recognized as Elvish mail, their magic making all of their armor impervious to weapons, over Odin’s old breastplate that the Allfather had worn into battle for at least a thousand years. You saw no Mjolnir in his hand but something new, a dark battle axe that looked too heavy for even the Mighty Thor to wield.

“Sweet sister,” Thor approached you, hand on your shoulder before giving you a tight hug. “It’s been too long without you home with us. We are overjoyed to have you back.”

You had to crane your neck to get a better look at his bearded face, his Asgardian height surpassing your smaller frame. Loki stepped forward and bowed with a smirk, taking your hand in his with a kiss.

“You look very tired; will you allow me to escort you to your room?” Smirk still present, you nodded.

“Should the Allfather permit it, I would like to rest before our feast tonight.” Your eyes meeting Odin’s as he smiled and nodded.

“I shall send for you when it is time to feast my dear,” Odin let you know as you departed his hall with Loki.

“I’m glad you came,” Loki kept a hold on your hand after leaving the throne room.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” You asked, the steps to your chambers were second nature now, you could make the way with both eyes closed.

“I wasn’t entirely sure,” He admitted, “though I did suspect you would pay us a visit.”

“With such a personal invitation, how could I refuse?” You looked at him with a smile before becoming more somber. “We never really had a chance to honor Frigga, did we?” Loki’s face drew into a frown, the events surrounding her death had not led to the most inclusive or honorable funeral. You knew everyone involved still felt bad about how the events had unfolded.

“I’m happy you’re holding a feast for her. She deserved more than what we managed when she died.”

“She did. She does.” Loki replied, no longer a jest in tone.

Approaching your chamber, Loki pushed at the door and the locks clicked open. It was exactly as you remembered, a wave of nostalgia nearly knocking you over. How had your room remained untouched after all those years? Even the book you had left on your mattress was still in its place, though nothing was dusty or looked neglected. It was as if someone had kept your room spotless, without moving a single piece of furniture or fabric.

“Loki,” you began.

“Odin insisted no one move anything, but to keep it as it exactly as it was when you left it. He lost his wife, and his daughter not soon after. Mother’s room looks the same.” Loki told you.

“Oh,” you exhaled with pain in your chest. “Loki, I never meant for that to happen. I didn’t want him to think he was losing me, I just… I couldn’t be here anymore. It hurt.” Now you felt terrible. You hadn’t stopped to think how leaving Asgard may have affected Odin, though you saw just how blind you had been.

“I know.” Loki’s tone was clipped. “We all hurt. He kept waiting for you to come back though. He wanted to let you heal, but he missed you, he needed you.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You weren’t sure what could be said, what could make anything better.

“It’s alright, you’re back now.” Loki shook his head and gave you a smile. “I’ll send a maid to attend to you before the feast.”

“Loki, I haven’t used a maid in years, I don’t need one now!” You insisted.

“You haven’t been back to Asgard in years either my dear, some things don’t change.” He leaned close and gave you a kiss on the cheek before closing the door to leave you in peace.

#My writing #my works #dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #loki x reader #dark writings #Dark fics

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a-deadly-serenade · 4 years

Text

The Shield and the Sword: Chapter 10: There’s No Place Like Home [Alucard/Reader]

You’re a witch that is skilled in herbology, one that has been persecuted by the church for practically your entire life. In spite of this, moving throughout different towns has allowed you to pick up some chatter about a woman in a village called Lupu. She is supposed to be a wonder when it comes to medicine, and this immediately perks up your interest. So after plucking up some courage, you’ve made it to her door… hoping that she takes you as her apprentice.

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When you awoke you’re surrounded by darkness, your head still reeling from what just happened. But… what exactly happened? Did you kill those monsters? How did you do that…?

The last thing you remember is a bright white light and then suddenly, you were on the ground. You thought of the colosseum, and of its blue flames that resided within the cobblestone torches. Had… had you used the fire to amplify your magic?

The idea seemed ludicrous. Sure, you were good at using your pryokinesis skills, but there was no way that you would be able to pull off such a thing… right?

Right.

But, then again… where were you?

You felt a chill in the air and goosebumps on your skin, and to your surprise, you looked down to see that you sported no shoes. Black, inky water rippled in pools around your feet, and you wondered just how it was you were standing here.

Frankly, it was difficult for you to even look in an attempt of gauging where you were because it was so dark. How were you ever going to navigate around this place?

With a snap of your fingers, a small flame erupted between them, slowly growing in height as you focused your magic on it. It flickered around your shallow breaths, your legs trembling slightly as you took the first couple steps deeper into the unknown depths of the darkness.

You had no idea if you were making any sort of progress, everything around you looked exactly the same and there were no landmarks to help track how far you’d gone.

This is ridiculous, you thought. There has to be a way out of here.

Splash.

Your heart leaps into your throat and you whirl around, eyes wide with fear as you frantically move your flame around in search of what made that noise.

Something… something definitely moved out there.

As you feel your breath starting to even out, you turn to continue on your way, thinking that maybe your mind was starting to play tricks on you. That is until you noticed something out of the corner of your eye.

A white shimmering deer.

The flame in your hand quickly disappears within the palm of your hand, and you lower your head to avert your eyes from their gaze.

The forest spirits had found you.

Your body trembled, but it wasn’t from fear. The power they exuded… you could feel it radiating off them in waves… sharp bursts that felt like tiny needles pricking the tips of your fingers.

The water slowly sloshed all around you as they began to circle you, and even though your eyes were closed, you could just feel their intense stare… feel it down to your very atoms.

What did they want with you? Why had you been brought here? Had you done something wrong when you killed all of those monsters?

That’s when you heard it; a horrible, high pitched wailing that shook you down to the core.

It was unlike any sound you had ever heard before, an eerie wail that seemed to tremble with trepidation and despair. Your soul felt heavy, and your body grew weary, the cries of the forest spirits worming their way into your head. They called out to you, their ancient voices swirling around you like a vortex.

It was becoming too much, streams of tears freely flowing down your face as you covered your ears in an attempt to shut them out. But they were so loud, so unnaturally loud… you felt as though this sound would be permanently sewn into you, haunting you for the rest of your life if you bared listening to any more of it.

“Please!” you begged, and shake your head. “Please stop!”

Your legs give out from under you as the ground begins to shake, a powerful tremor that has you screaming and falling to your knees. Your sobs are ragged, and all you can do is plead over and over that they hear your call, and allow you to see why it is they brought you here.

The same hopelessness that almost took over at the colosseum was beginning to reclaim its territory, and this time, you truly felt lost, as though this is where you had been cursed to spend the rest of time… trapped within the darkness, surrounded by the bereavements of ancient gods.

But then… there’s a tug… at your heart.

A warm presence emerges from the cold, and silence rings out into the air, relief washing over you. It was like you could finally breathe, the weight of their presence finally loosening their grip on your shoulders and you relaxed.

What made them stop?

Your eyes fluttered open, and you are shocked to find that you are surrounded by light. You rubbed away the sting with the back of your hand, and when your vision finally adjusts, it’s only blurred again moments later when your gaze lands on a woman standing before you.

It was as though you had been transformed into a fawn, your legs wobbling like a newborn as you struggled to stay up and run over to her. When you felt her arms wrap around you, her hair tickling your nose, and her smell overwhelming you, that’s when you believed it to be really her.

“Mom…” you whispered hoarsely.

You felt the embrace around you tighten slightly, a fresh round of tears pouring from your eyes when you pulled away to look at her.

She was exactly as you remembered, her smile radiant and beaming and eyes brimming with warmth. She cupped your face with her hand and gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“My beautiful baby girl,” she said, her own tears cascading down her cheeks. “How I’ve missed you.”

You gasped and tried to wipe away the tears that seemed to never stop flowing. “I can’t believe that you’re here…”

She smiled at you, and pulled you in close to whisper, “I’m not the only one here.”

Confused, you looked around you, and slowly, from within the thick fog, walked out groups and groups of people.

Your hands reached up to cover your mouth in shock, more tears pouring from your eyes when you see them… see them all.

Your coven.

Familiar faces surrounded you from all around, your grandmother, your childhood friends Sophia and Zoë, and a dozen other families that had all made their little impacts on your life.

“I can’t believe…. you’re all really here,” you repeated before your voice tapered off as more tears streamed down your face. You look over at your grandmother, and run to her, hugging her tightly before you did the same to your friends.

Zoë’s thick dark curls tickled your nose as you rested your forehead against their shoulders, Sophia’s slender arms encircling your waist as the three of you laughed and cried together.

“I’ve missed you,” you mumbled, and then pulled away from them, eyes gazing upon your friends and family. “I’ve missed you all so much…”

“And we’ve missed you,” your grandmother is at your side, her wrinkled hand taking a gentle hold of yours. “We’re so proud of you, sweetheart, how far you’ve come.”

Your breath catches in your throat and your head whirls around to face your mother. “You’ve… you’ve been watching over me?”

“Of course,” Zoë said, her voice light and filled with just the faintest amount of surprise. “What? Did you think we were just going to leave you alone?” she gives you a smile, her dark brown eyes filling with tears, and she laughs and attempts to wipe them away. “Don’t think you’re getting rid of us that easily.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip to keep it from trembling, and you lean into your grandmother’s embrace. “I’m so sorry,” you babbled. “I’m so sorry about everything that happened…” you look towards your mother and grip tightly onto her hands. “If only I hadn’t run… maybe… maybe then you’d be--”

“Hush now,” she said and stroked your face. “Do not say such things. It was my choice to put up that barrier. If there was a way for both me and our coven to survive, I knew that I had to keep you safe. And look at you now… what a remarkable young woman you’ve become.”

You smile, and frantically go to wipe more tears that had managed to slip past. “I’m so glad,” you said and swallowed a lump in your throat. “I’m so glad that I’ve been able to make you all so proud.”

“What, like we’d think otherwise?” Sophia said, and your grandmother chuckled.

The sight of them all here, so happy to be with you, it was an indescribable feeling. Ever since you had lost everyone that you’d held so dear, there had been an unfillable void within the center of your soul, something that you knew would never truly be healed. But, being here… and getting to see them all…

It was as though you had been transported to paradise.

The tricky thing about paradise though, is that you usually never tend to want to leave. It’s a place that entices you to stay, your own personal heaven that lies in wait till it’s time for you to finally leave the mortal coil and join the spirits in the realm of the gods.

And who were you to deny such a gift?

“I’m so happy,” you said, a smile spreading across your face.

Your mother looked at you, her eyes swimming with a mixture of emotions as she leaned down to place a lingering kiss on your forehead. “I know honey, and you have no idea how glad I am to finally see you again, to hold you again… but…”

Her voice tapered off and your head snaps up at the tremble in her voice. “You can’t stay here, my love.”

You recoiled from her embrace, as though she had burnt you, eyes wide from fear. “What… what do you mean? I want to stay here!” you shouted back, as tears began to flow down your cheeks again. “This is all I’ve ever wanted, to be reunited with you, and now you’re telling me to go? ”

“Now listen here, young lady,” your grandmother snapped, but her tone was thick, words tumbling out of her mouth like molasses, betraying her own underlying sadness. “You must listen to what your mother says. You have so much more good to do, more than you realize,” she ruffles your hair playfully and bops the tip of your nose. “You know in your heart that you belong back there… back there with your new family, back there with him.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and although it pained you so… you knew that she was right.

The spirits had offered you the greatest of temptations, and yet, here was your family telling you to ignore their call. They weren’t going to lose you, not on their watch, not when you had so much more life to give.

Your gaze lingered on your grandmother before you turned your attention back to your mother, who smiled down at you and pulled you into a tight hug. Fresh tears welled up within the corners of your eyes, and you shut them tight, for you knew this would be the last goodbye… at least, until fate decided it was time for you to be reunited once more.

“I love you so much,” she whispers, only to you, her voice muffled by your hair. “I love you so much, my beautiful, wonderful daughter… I’ll always be watching over you, my dear, sweet child…”

Warmth seeps through your fingers, through your veins, down to the very marrow of your bones, and when you finally open your eyes, everyone is gone.

You’re startled when you find a flower resting within the palm of your hand, a delicate white poppy, its petals brushing softly against your skin. Where had this come from?

An airy mist swirls around you and your body feels so heavy, your eyelids drooping from exhaustion as you go to lay on the ground. It’s soft, and plush, as though you were laying on a bed… and there’s a smell… it’s sweet …

Lavender?

A voice startles you, someone whispering to themselves in a silent pleading,

“Please, please… if there’s anything out there listening, anything at all… please, just help her wake up… please.”

Who was that?

It’s time to wake up.

Huh? And who said that?

Sweetheart, it’s time to wake up…

Wait… that voice…

Wake up!

A harsh gasp erupts from your throat as you surge forward from the bed, inhaling deep lungfuls of air as you struggled to catch your breath.

You feel the sheens of sweat that covered your body, your clothes and hair sticking uncomfortably tight to your shaking form and your tongue darted out to lick your dry lips, only just noticing how parched you really were.

“Oh thank the gods!”

You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear a voice beside you, and feel the bed sink under their weight. Your head whips around to find Lisa at the foot of your bed, her hands clasped together in silent prayer as she whispered ‘thank you’ over and over again into the duvet.

“Lisa?” you croaked out and flinched under her intense gaze.

Her face was stained from tears, and her hair was a disheveled mess, long, frizzy and curly, resting on her shoulders, as opposed to the loose braid she usually wore. The tip of her nose was red, and her eyes puffy from crying, but when she smiled at you, the shock from everything that had just happened seemed to slowly melt away.

“I’m so glad,” she said and sniffled. “I’m so glad that you’re alright,” she laughed and took a firm hold of your hand. “When Adrian came to us, your body lying limp in his arms, I thought the worst had happened to you while you’d been down there…” she shuddered. “You were so pale and so unresponsive… I thought we had already lost you.”

She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief and took a deep, shuddering breath. “It was thanks to Vlad that I knew you were still alive… he guessed that you just needed a couple of days to rest after expending so much magic, and oh, am I so glad that he was right!”

At the mention of magic, you looked down at your hands and flexed your fingers. So… it was you who killed all those monsters.

“I never knew…” you whispered, and cleared your throat. “I never knew I was capable of something like that.”

Lisa blinked back a few more tears, and then shakily rose to her feet to pour you a much-needed cup of tea. “When Adrian told us what happened, I was furious.” she let a spoonful of honey drip down into the drink, and then stirred in the rest. “But… I had to focus on you. Even though I wanted to go down there and tear those monsters limb-from-limb myself, I trusted that my husband would be more than capable of dishing out a punishment befitting of those foul beasts.”

She handed you the cup, and you gratefully took it, gulping down mouthfuls of the sweet tea. “I had no idea… I had no idea creatures as powerful as them even existed.”

“Yes well,” she sniffed and took her seat beside your bed once more. “You won’t ever have to worry about encountering those things again.”

She reached over and squeezed your hand again, as though making sure that you were really there, really alive. “Adrian was absolutely hysterical, you know,” she said and chuckled lightly to herself.

Your eyes widened a bit, shocked at this confession. “Hysterical? Adrian?”

She nodded her head. “He refused to leave your side, and I’ll admit that he got on my nerves quite a few times while I checked over your vitals, but I knew that he just needed some reassurance that you were doing alright.”

“I see…” you replied and sipped your tea in quiet contemplation.

Lisa was quiet for a moment, and she opened her mouth as though she might say something before a small argument behind your closed door caught not only her attention but yours as well.

“Adrian, for the last time your mother has wished that she not be disturbed!”

“Did you not hear voices just now? She must be awake!”

“I’m sure it was just your mother--”

“No! I’m certain that it was more than that!” “Adrian, I am telling you to stay back and let your mother do her-- Adrian!”

Too late.

The door swung open as Adrian burst into the room, and when his eyes landed on you, his body seemed to sag from all of the relief washing over him.

There was a sense of urgency within his stride and he made it to the side of your bed in no time at all, where he wasted no time in pulling you into a warm embrace.

A tiny squeak of surprise escaped you, the gesture catching you so off-guard that it took you a couple of seconds to even process what had happened. Your arms trembled slightly as they slowly wrapped around Adrian’s neck, and you buried your burning face within the crook of his neck to shield yourself from the bewildered looks both of his parents were giving the two of you.

“I’m so glad that you’re alright,” he whispered and pulled away to delicately move a few stray hairs from your face. “I was… I was so worried,” he chuckled and gave you a sad smile. “I thought… from the way you looked… I thought--”

“Adrian,” you said. “It’s alright, I’m here, I’m okay,” you smiled. “We’re both okay.”

His golden eyes seemed to sparkle in the low light of the waning sunset that shone through your bedroom window, and he smiled again before pulling you into another tight hug.

This outward display of affection is something that you never expected to see from Adrian, much less in front of his parents. So you quickly tapped him on the shoulder to further prevent your plot of somehow turning to liquid and seeping through the wooden cracks of the floor to hide from becoming a reality.

He gave you a shy smile as he jostled his arms back into his lap, and fidgeted with his hands a bit before settling them by interlocking his fingers together. “I apologize, I should have probably given you some space to breathe a bit considering what you just went through.”

You chuckled nervously and shuffled around a bit to get more comfortable on your bed. “It’s alright… I… didn’t even know I could do something like that. The monsters--Lisa said that they had all been disintegrated,” your gaze focuses upon Vlad. “Is that true?”

He nodded his head. “Yes… it is.” he carefully made his way inside and pulled a chair over to have a seat beside his wife.

“Could you tell me… could you tell me what happened?” you questioned. “I--I mean when you found me, that is.”

Vlad heaved a heavy sigh and gently placed one of his large hands over Lisa’s, who had begun to tremble slightly. “Adrian had transmuted the two of you to us, which came as a right big shock because we had merely been reading in the library together. When I first got a good look at you, I knew immediately that your body had gone into shock from expelling a large amount of magic. I could feel it,” he explained. “Your magic. It was trembling and making a huge muck about your system. I had to calm it down, so I gave you some of my own.”

“What?” you croaked out. “You… gave me some of your magic?”

“Little one,” he chuckled. “I may not look it, but I do have my fair share of abilities up my sleeve. If I had not given you anything, well…”

You look down at your hands and flex your fingers. You really could have died? Geez.

“I had no idea something like that was even in me,” you replied. “It was such a reckless move…”

“No,” Vlad countered. “It’s what saved both of your lives. You just need to practice some more, that’s all. Your body is just not used to producing so much magic within such a short period of time.”

“I…” you began, and nervously swiped your tongue across your chapped bottom lip. “I don’t know if I even want to learn how to control that,” you caged yourself behind your arms as you thought back to those brief moments you can remember amidst it all. The flames… the heat… the burning in your arms… the overwhelming smell of death.

“It’s not something you have to talk about now,” Lisa said, a light bark to her voice as she interjected herself into the conversation. “Right?” she shot her husband a look and he coughed into the crook of his arm as he nodded his head in agreement.

You gave one of Lisa’s hand a firm squeeze to express your gratitude but still held your gaze with Vlad. “I have to know though… just what were those things down there? The way those things spoke to Adrian… it was absolutely abhorrent.”

“I knew who they were once Adrian had described them to me; Valhalla Knights.”

“Valhalla?” you repeated. “You mean… the Norse’s version of Paradise?”

“Yes well,” Vlad said with a roll of his eyes. “These are far from the group of holy men they once were. The only reason I kept them around was because of their fierce loyalty to me, that part of their reputation I did not doubt.” his eyes then narrowed slightly as he cast a look over at Adrian. “I see that that loyalty did not extend to even my own son.”

“It’s not your fault,” you quickly interjected. “We should have been more careful--”

“No, little one,” Vlad interrupted with a smile. “There is no reason to defend my past decisions-- they’re what put the two of you in danger, which is absolutely unforgivable.” in a flourish he got up from where he sat, but not before he leaned down and kissed the top of Lisa’s head. “I am off to have a talk with my supernatural guardsmen. This is my home and I will not have some demons running amuck with my family.”

He bowed before the three of you and with one final glance, he vanished within the blink of an eye, off to go deliver his word to his very terrified followers.

“I’m glad that he’s finally having a talk with them,” Lisa said. “I would sometimes worry that you would wander into some corner of the castle and run into a less than understanding creature that wouldn’t take ‘I’m lost’ as an excuse,” she sighed and ran a hand through her frazzled hair. “I think I’m going to go downstairs and start dinner… it’ll keep my mind busy.” she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, which made you blush.

“I’m so glad that you’re alright,” her eyes shined with new, unshed tears, but she quickly excused herself before they could fall. “Oh, Adrian,” she said from the doorway. “If you wish to join me later, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“I will mother,” he replied, but then his eyes found their way back to you and he smiled. “Just… in a bit.”

She gave him a knowing smile and closed the door with a sly, “Well, alright!”

With the two of you now alone, you become keenly aware of how close Adrian was sitting next to you and it sent blood rushing to your face again. You did not know what to say, and your heart hammering in your chest and your palms becoming all sweaty from nerves wasn’t exactly helping things either.

“I don’t suppose I properly thanked you for well, saving my life earlier,” Adrian finally said, with a teasing lilt to his voice. “So, thank you.”

“Oh please,” you snapped back. “If you hadn’t acted like a fool and gotten yourself stabbed and on top of that, tried to perform healing magic that was clearly out of your league, then maybe I wouldn’t have had to go all… I dunno, Hephaestus on them!” you practically shouted, and you felt yourself twinge with annoyance when Adrian merely began laughing at your response.

“What’s so funny?” you grumbled and huffed when he just started laughing harder. “Adrian!” you groaned and lightly punched his shoulder. “You know I’m right!”

“That’s exactly,” his laughter died down to a chuckle. “Why I’m laughing. I cannot believe I thought I was strong enough to heal that wound. What was I thinking?”

“I don’t know! That’s what I want to know!” you teased and started to laugh along with him.

The moment was sweet and it felt nice to joke around and have a laugh after something so traumatic. You felt yourself relax, but then it’s almost as if a pit drops in your stomach, one that you wish could swallow you whole, when he takes one of your hands into a gentle grip.

“You really did save my life back there though,” he smiled. “And Aria’s too,” he added, his fangs gleaming under the light of twilight. “I really don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him. “Oh come on Adrian, I’m sure that you managed fine without me.”

“It’s strange,” he said and leaned in just a bit closer. “We haven’t even known each other a year now, but you’ve somehow made my home feel more… complete.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat and a sense of panic begin to overwhelm you.

I know where this is going, you think to yourself. At least, I think I do… oh please tell me that my sixth sense is all wrong about this!

But the telltale signs are all there; the way he nervously fidgets in his seat on the bed, the way the grip on your hand grew just a fraction tighter, and the way… the way that he’s looking at you.

You feel your heart break in two, unworthy of such a gaze filled with unparalleled amounts of adoration and… and--

“I… I think I’m in--”

Before he could even think of finishing his thought, you put a finger up to his lips to silence him. Your arm began to shake when he opened his eyes in surprise, and then his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, clearly not understanding what was going on.

“Please,” you begged, and your arm slid down from his face and landed onto the bed with a heavy thump. “Please don’t say it…”

Your head lolled forward and you kept your gaze locked onto the comforter of your bed, unable to bring yourself to look at him. There was a tense silence that lingered in the air and for a brief moment, you hoped that he had turned himself into mist or transmuted out of the room, but then his chair scratched sharply against the hardwood floor and the door to your bedroom was harshly yanked open. A heavy, sad sigh permeated the quiet air between the two of you before the door was closed with a controlled sense of desperation, leaving you alone.

That’s when the tears came, hot, heavy globs that streamed down your face as you sobbed until you had nothing left, and buried yourself into your covers so that you may sleep and hide away from the world.

___________________

It was an understatement to say that there was a shift between the dynamic you and Adrian had shared within the walls of Castlevania. The personal lessons you had with each other stopped altogether, you practically avoided him at all costs, and if there was an opportunity where you could eat alone, you took it. Obviously these games could only go on for so long without the other two residents in the home picking up on the obvious tension.

Lisa had been the first to try and make an attempt to talking about it with you, but you had immediately dismissed her questions by directing it instead to a new technique of sutures you wanted to try based on a particular stitching pattern you’d seen on one of the dresses Crina had made.

Vlad had been equally as unsuccessful in getting anything from you, even if he believed his idea of asking you in the garden was a great one. When he tried to bring up Adrian, you broke off the conversation and said that you had to head back to the greenhouse to tend to some of the plants,

“Those rosemary have been acting really finicky lately, I should go check on them.”

Sure, rosemary. He knew you were avoiding Adrian, he wasn’t born yesterday. But all he could do was let you be on your way-- it’s not like he and Lisa were having much luck getting anything out of Adrian either.

You knew that it was a bad idea to act like this, to just avoid the problem and hope that you never had to confront it, but Diana had been right; you needed to talk to someone about this, you felt like you were going crazy with the amount of lying and dodging you’d been doing these past couple days.

Surprisingly, you had found your comfort amongst an unlikely pair of confidants: Adrian’s familiars. Well, the three that didn’t believe you drank the blood of the firstborn and made contracts with demons.

Aria had naturally been the first one to approach you, telling you that even if her master refused to speak to you, that didn’t mean you two couldn’t still be friends! She told you that Amore had been in absolute hysterics when she found out what had happened and that Lockette had murmured something about a, “stubborn lock refusing to break.” Yeah… you knew exactly what she was talking about.

She had been the one who suggested that you visit Hatred and Cereza down in the underground caverns since they might be able to shed another opinion on this whole situation. Hatred had initially acted a bit feisty towards you since you did kind of break his master’s heart and all, but after Aria had filled him in on the talks the two of you had shared, he seemed to calm down.

Cereza thankfully let you know that she was going to try and remain impartial during all of this and settle her opinions once she was able to properly make up her mind. And so it soon became a part of your daily routine to find time to head down to the cave that Hatred called home, with Aria always trailing behind you and Cereza not too far behind so that you could really just… vent.

“Anything happen today?” Aria asked while picking through a porous rock to try and excavate the tiny gem she swears she saw.

“Just Lisa cornering me in the library again,” you said and scratched Cereza under her chin as she hung beside you on a low stalactite.

“You know you can’t avoid her forever!” Hatred chastised. “I just wished you would sit down and talk to her.” “And say what?” you snapped. “Oh, yeah, I’m sorry that I broke your son’s heart because I’m an indecisive mess that thinks she’s undeserving of love.”

Hatred growled and threw a rock in your direction. “I am so sick of this!” he snarled. “Why do you think that?”

“Think what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” he hissed and stomped over to where you sat. “Why do you think you are undeserving of happiness? You’re living a life that some people would do anything to have.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoffed.

“Am I being ridiculous?” he put his hands on his goat hips and glared at you with his red eyes. “You forget that my kind specializes in making deals with you humans. I’m sure there are plenty alive out there that would offer up their own soul to be in your shoes. Someone with a respectable job, someone that’s living in a life of luxury-- fresh food for every meal, nice clean clothes always at the ready-- and of course, someone that has people that love them.”

He gave you a harsh jab on the knee with one of his long pointy nails. “You two have been acting like such spoiled children-- both you and my master. You can’t even offer the woman who took you in an explanation?” he huffed and shook his head at you disapprovingly. “Honestly.”

Your mouth hung open in shock at Hatred’s speech, with even Aria and Cereza falling silent.

“What?” Hatred wondered. “Am I wrong?”

“No… I…” you’re rendered speechless by his brutal honesty, and it takes you a few minutes to organize all of your thoughts. “You’re right… goddess, I can’t believe I’m actually agreeing with a demon.”

“Hey!”

Aria and Cereza giggled as Hatred’s outburst, and Cereza let out a couple of squeaks and twitches of her ears as she said something to Aria to translate.

“Demon jokes aside,” Aria said to Cereza, who merely cocked her head to the side feigning innocence, “Cereza and I both agree that it’s time for you to come clean with yourself. But, you should at least let someone know what’s been going on,” she flew up off your shoulder and kissed your cheek. “They’re your family. They can help… definitely a lot more than us familiars can.”

You cupped her gently in your hands and kissed her head. “You three have helped me even more than you know. I suppose… I’ve just been afraid to tell them all of this. It’s an awful lot to put on someone.”

“But that’s the whole point of family!” Aria exclaimed. “They’re there so you don’t have to put up with all of this on your own!”

Cereza let out a couple rapid squeaks out to express her concurrence.

“See!” Aria said and pointed to Cereza. “She agrees with me!”

“You’re right,” you said. “I… I need to be more open about all of this,” you got up from where you sat and dusted off pieces of shale from your pants. “I think I’m going to go and find Lisa.”

Hatred comically wiped away some sweat from his brow and collapsed onto the hard stone floor. “I’d say ‘hail Satan’ but I know he doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

You chuckled and thanked the three of them one last time before you exited the caves and quickly made your way back inside the castle to find Lisa. It seemed as though fate was on your side that day, and as you darted down a hallway you practically ran into her, who seemed to be on a mission of her own.

“Lisa!” you exclaimed out in surprise. “I was just looking for you.”

“Really?” one of her fine eyebrows were raised up in confusion, the expression in her eyes a bit more distant than you would have liked. “Because it seems to me that you’ve been hellbent on avoiding us.”

You flinched under her harsh gaze, and sheepishly lowered yours, unaccustomed to her being so upset with you--not like you didn’t deserve it. “Yeah… I’m… well, I wanted to apologize for my behavior.” you took a deep breath and steeled your nerves to look her in the eyes. “I wanted to find you so that I could have a chance to explain myself… if you’ll let me.”

“Oh,” she said, her eyes widened a bit. That appeared to catch her off guard and her expression softened a bit. “Yes, of course,” she replied and followed you to your room and took a seat at your desk while you sat on your bed.

It took you several tries to finally find the right words to say but after a couple of deep breaths, you were ready to begin. “First of all, I wanted to say how truly sorry I am for ignoring you and Vlad this week. I’m not… I’m not exactly good at dealing with this sort of thing.”

“I hope you know that neither one of us wanted to pry,” Lisa said. “We just wanted to try and help.”

“I know,” you replied. “I’m just…” you sighed, and then chuckled quietly to yourself. “Frankly, I was terrified.” “Terrified?” Lisa repeated. “Sweetheart, what were you terrified about?”

You felt your lip begin to tremble and let out a bittersweet round of laughter. “Lisa, my life has been marred with tragedy, death, and prejudice. The number of times I found myself surviving with nothing more than the clothes on my back, are too many to count. I thought I was destined to live in destitute for what I was, maybe it’s what I deserved…” you’re quiet for a moment as you let your words settle, and then continue.

“But then I was given a second chance, and it all seemed too good to be true. A family had taken me in knowing what I was, and they didn’t care. They welcomed me as one of their own, re-instilling a sense of purpose within me I thought had long since died. And even though everyone around me has been screaming that I deserve all of it… for some reason, I can’t bring myself to believe it.”

Lisa’s face crumpled under your confession and she left her spot on the chair to join you on the bed and wrap an arm around you. “Why in Heaven’s name do you not think you deserve all of this?”

“I don’t know!” you blurted out hopelessly. “For some reason, I’ve convinced myself I’m cursed and I can’t risk…” your chest heaved as you took a deep breath. “I can’t risk anything happening to you.” your voice cracked as you looked at Lisa, fresh tears streaming down your eyes. “I would never be able to forgive myself if something were to happen to you, or Adrian, or even Vlad because of me.”

“Sweetheart,” Lisa took a tight grip of your hand and forced you to keep looking at her. “What happened…” she faltered for a moment, carefully choosing her next words. “What happened to your family was a tragedy, but surely you must know that it wasn’t your fault?”

“I… I know,” you sniffled and wiped away at the tears that kept leaking from the corners of your eyes.

“Good, because it wasn’t. Nothing is going to happen to us because of you. Your family died at the hands of ignorant people clouded by fanatical judgment, not you. It saddens me that you’re letting them strip away the pride you’re supposed to be feeling towards your heritage.”

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

“You’re berating yourself for feeling happy because you’re a witch, are you not?”

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment and your lip pursed into a thin line as Lisa hit the nail right on the head. How she was able to read you so easily honestly astounded you, and more tears fell as you broke down in her arms.

“It’s…” you whispered, and took a harsh breath. “It’s been so exhausting have to hide and lie my way through life just so I can stay alive because of what I am. I sometimes feel ashamed… my coven was filled with such strong, proud women. Witches are supposed to be fierce and ethereal, a guiding light to the other side of the veil that people are supposed to admire and turn to for help. It’s kind of hard to feel, much less embody any of those traits when the whole country wants nothing more than for you to be burned at the stake.”

“I know times have changed,” Lisa said and brushed some hair away from your face. “But what makes you think that you haven’t taken on these roles even now?”

“What?”

“Come now, little one,” she gave you a lighthearted grin and bopped the tip of your nose. “Ever since you started your studies, you’ve been slowly growing into the witch you were meant to be. How many times have I said how thankful I am you found us? Far too many to count, right?” she gave your hand another squeeze and smiled at you. “I know it’s going to be hard to let go of all of these anxieties, but I hope you know that there isn’t a moment where I’m not indebted to whatever forces brought us together.”

You sniffled and wrapped your arms around Lisa as you brought her into a tight hug. “Thank you…” you whispered. “For everything…”

“Of course,” she replied. “I hope…” she wiped at a stray tear that managed to slip by and gave you another radiant smile. “I hope that you know you’re deserving of everything that’s happened, that you’re deserving of a second chance here with us. And I know Adrian has been in a mood lately, but I’m sure he more than agrees with me.”

You cringe at the mention of Adrian and untangle yourself from your embrace, fiddling with a stray thread on your shirt as you worked up the courage to bring up just what had transpired between the two of you. “Yeah… about Adrian--”

“There you are.”

You whip your head over to look into the doorway to find Vlad standing there in a rich red long-sleeved shirt and black pants, his long black hair having been neatly tied back with a silk red ribbon.

Shying away from his gaze to try and make it look like you weren’t just crying, you hear Lisa clear her throat and ask him,

“What can we do for you dear?”

“I apologize if I interrupted anything,” he said. “But… it’s time.”

You blew your nose into a handkerchief and gazed up skeptically towards Lisa for an explanation on Vlad’s cryptic statement. What does he mean it’s time?

“Oh!” Lisa suddenly exclaimed. “Right, I almost forgot,” she took a hold of your hand and pulled you up with her. “You’re going to want to see this.” was all that she said to you before she leads you out of your room, quick to follow her husband’s long strides as you went up stairwells and whipped around corners until you arrived at a tall wooden door.

Vlad pushed it open with ease and you swallowed nervously at what lay inside. Large gears turned and clanked beside you as they churned who knows what throughout the castle. Occasionally, a pipe would hiss out a stream of steam, and you yelped as one went off near your head.

“What is this place?” you whispered to Lisa.

“You know,” she said, as she looked around the room herself. “I’m not quite so sure myself!”

You gave her a deadpanned expression. Great.

“All I do know is that you shouldn’t take a gander off to the sides,” she pointed over at the edge of the high bridge you were currently walking on. “I think that sight would make anyone queasy.” You swallowed a lump in your throat and shuffled closer to Lisa. “That’s reassuring,” you mumbled.

A large, magnificent window embellished with an extravagant gothic frame stood at the very end of the walkway, and illuminated within the bright morning light was a strange object that appeared to be floating above its pedestal.

You had never seen anything like it and as the three of you ascended the small number of stairs to stand before it, you were entranced by the golden adornments that covered its pitch black body. It was fairly large, but as for what it did… you hadn’t the slightest clue.

“Is everyone all here?” Vlad asked.

“Yes.”

You felt your stomach turn to knots when you heard his voice and in spite of everything that you had talked about with Lisa, you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see that Adrian stood beside his father, who let out a surprised chuckle when he noticed his son.

“Good, now,” he turned his attention to you. “What’s about to happen may seem alarming but rest assured, everything will be fine.”

“Uh…” you drawled out. “Alright? I… I’m sorry, what is going on?”

“Just watch,” Lisa replied and pointed to the strange trapezoidal cube.

Vlad stood with his back to the rest of you, his shoulders squared back, and as he lifted his hand before the strange item, it slowly began to let out a bizarre whirring sound and split apart before your eyes, spinning so rapidly that it appeared instead as a large glowing golden orb. Several gears that had been inactive started to turn and the entire castle trembled beneath your feet.

For a split second, you thought maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you because everything outside appeared to be flickering in and out of your view. The trees were there one minute, but then the very next, they were gone. This happened several times before the vast expanse of the Transylvanian wilderness vanished within the fraction of a second and was instead replaced by the glittering white sands and towering cliffsides surrounded by the deep blue sea.

The castle lurched you all forward as it stabilized itself, the cube assembling itself back together and the gears slowing to a halt as you reached your destination.

“What the hell was that?” you uttered.

“Did I never tell you?” Vlad wondered aloud as he turned to face you. “This entire structure is a traveling machine, and I can pilot it to any location on Earth.”

“You can’t be serious,” you said, voice laced with skepticism. “There’s no way you’d be able to move an entire castle within the blink of an eye.”

He merely smiled and instructed that you look out the window with a wave of his hand. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

You were still suspicious even as you walked up towards the window, but as you pressed your face closer to the glass and really took a look… you knew where you were almost immediately and you really couldn’t believe your eyes.

“But, this is impossible… ” you muttered.

“I told you I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” Vlad teased as he walked over to stand beside you. “Welcome to Caliacra.”

So it was true. You were in Caliacra.

“This is where we will be staying for the next month or so,” Vlad explained. “Our party is taking place here as well, and is going to be co-hosted by my sister who has dominion over these lands.”

“We’re staying here for a month?” your face was split with a wide grin and your eyes sparkled in delight at this news.

“Yes,” Vlad said with a small smile. “We try and come here every year or so to visit my sister, and being able to escape the cold weather isn’t bad either.”

It was like a dream come true having the opportunity to be back... and for a whole month too. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been here, it surely had to be shortly after… shortly after--

“Do you…” you said all of a sudden. “Do you mind if I went down to the beach?”

Vlad blinked at your forthright request but then he smiled and nodded his head. “Of course. There’s no need to ask me for permission--”

You had taken off out of there before he could even finish his sentence, sprinting down the halls and jumping down two, sometimes three steps at a time. You were a woman possessed, and the only thing that would satiate you was feeling that cool ocean breeze on your face and smelling the sea air as you dug your feet into the warm sand.

Shoving open the back door, you nearly tripped over yourself in your own excitement when you could confirm that yes… this was real. You were in Caliacra. You were back home.

Giddy laughter bubbled up from within your chest and it erupted from you as you began to spin in circles around the cliffside. The view was breathtaking and you were mesmerized at the sight of the white waves crashing against the treacherous rocky shore down below. It was only then that you realized just how picturesque this spot was, and it seemed to be only a couple minutes stroll down the hill to reach the beach, so that’s exactly where you headed.

You ditched your shoes about half-way there, kicking up sand and rocks in your haste to reach the pristine shores at the bottom of the valley. When your toes finally sunk into that sand… the joy you felt at that moment was unparalleled.

The sun shone high above you in the sky and as you looked over the neverending expanse of the ocean before you, all you could do was sit and take it all in. Rays of sunlight dance across your skin and you closed your eyes in contentment, stretching out your limbs like a cat getting ready to take a nap. It was quiet, with the only sound being the waves crashing against the shore and an occasional gull cawing away as it searched for food. You felt more at peace now than you had in years.

You had no clue as to how long you stayed out there, basking in the sun’s rays and letting the waves lull you into a state of utter tranquility. You likely could have been there all day with no care for how much time had passed, not worried about anything, not thinking about anything. All that mattered was that you were on a beach in Caliacra… a place you never thought you’d see again.

You scooped some sand into the palm of your hand and let it seep through your fingers, the fine particles scattering in the wind and disappearing from your grasp in a matter of seconds. You chuckled to yourself as you kept doing this, and a small part of you wished that some things in your life could vanish just as easily.

The sound of footsteps crunching against the rocks and sand snapped you out of your trance, and when a shadow loomed over you, blocking the sun, you couldn’t believe who was standing there.

Adrian. With… a basket?

It was a little awkward, what with you on the ground staring up at him looking completely bewildered and him, merely standing there, the expression on his face looking completely unreadable. You weren’t sure exactly… what he was doing, but this bizarre stand-off was starting to get you agitated, so, you said something.

“Do… you want to sit down?”

That seemed to snap him out of it, and you picked up on a couple quick, mumbled apologies before he clumsily sat down beside you. He had his hair tied back again, with the sleeves on his dark blue shirt rolled up to his elbows. His arms rested atop his knees and the basket lay between the two of you, acting as an invisible barrier.

Neither one of you said a thing and you nervously tucked some hair behind your ear to try and not explode from how stifled you felt. Was he going to say something or not?

To your surprise, he leaned over and reached inside of the basket pulling out a sandwich, which he handed to you. “I…” he cleared his throat, his eyes darting away from your gaze. “I know this all might be a bit overwhelming, but you should still eat.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you were sure they were about as big as saucers, a shy ‘thank you’ tumbling from your lips as you took it from him and let it rest in your lap. You saw him take one out as well and bite into it, and even though you thought you were too nervous to eat, your stomach let out an obnoxious growl, proving you wrong. Sheepishly taking a few bites, the two of you ate together in silence, and even if this all still felt incredibly awkward, you were thankful that… well, he even still wanted to be around you. You’d be lying if you said you had no feelings for him but it’s not like you hadn’t made a big mess of things. Denying his feelings the way you did wasn’t exactly going to win you any favors.

You heard the clink of glass and turned to find him taking out two ceramic cups and a mason jar, pouring out a serving for each of you. “Food and a drink?” you said and took a sip. It was sweet, but besides that, it didn’t have much flavor to it. “What else is in that magic basket of yours?” you joked.

You noticed the sides of his mouth quirk up a bit as he held back a smile. “You should know by now that I lack the finesse the pull this off,” he replied and knocked back some of his drink.

“Oh? Then who do I have to thank?”

“My mother.”

“Ah,” you said and nodded your head. “Lisa always seems to be one step ahead.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “She has a way of knowing just what do to… must be that maternal instinct of hers.”

You let out a quiet chuckle. “She’s helped put me back on track--definitely more than once.”

“She was the one who sent me down here. Said she was tired of the way I had been behaving and wanted me to try and mend things,” he let out a sigh and stared straight ahead, gazing out into the vast expanse of the ocean.

You felt your throat go dry and you downed the rest of your drink in one big gulp. “Oh… oh yeah?” your voice stuttered a bit, and you started to play with the sand to try and compose yourself.

“She explained some things to me and well, I…” he cleared his throat again. “I just wanted to apologize for the way I’ve been acting,” he finally turned to look at you, a sad smile gracing his features when he realized you weren’t looking at him. “I should have been more understanding of the situation and I should have caught on that maybe you waking up out of a possible coma wasn’t the best place for me to start confessing my feelings.” You couldn’t help the laughter that escaped you, and your cheeks burned as you turned to face him. “I’m sorry,” you blurted out. “I’m not laughing at you-- what you said, it was--”

“It’s alright,” he said and gave you a kind smile. “I’m… I’m glad that you feel comfortable enough to even be around me. I know how much of a brat I must seem, throwing a whole tantrum and refusing to speak to you and all that.”

You scoffed. “It’s not like I was any better,” you said and gave him a playful smile. Your hand trembled a bit as you reached out and placed it on his shoulder, the action causing Adrian to nearly jump out of his skin. “I should probably apologize as well. I didn’t exactly handle things very well. I’m just…” your heart fluttered in your chest. “I’m just glad that you don’t hate me or anything.”

“Hate you?” Adrian sounded absolutely baffled. “Why would I hate you?” You cringed a bit and removed your hand from his shoulder to shrug. “I could take a few lucky guesses.”

“You know that I don’t hate you. In fact, you should know that I--” he suddenly stopped himself, mouth gaping open like a fish out of water. “Ah, there I go again,” he muttered and chuckled quietly to himself.

He seemed to pull away a bit, and in your panic, you grabbed a hold of his hand. “Adrian,” you gasped, surprised at even yourself for pulling such a bold move. “I… I…” you huffed, frustrated, and looked down at your hands to try and pull yourself together. “Adrian, I care about you… a lot, it’s just… I need some time to think.”

“Think about what?”

“Let me finish,” you snapped. “I… I don’t want to hurt you, not any more than I have. So I need to come to terms with myself about a few things before anything else happens. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you…” your voice trailed off and you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Or that I don’t want to see you. I… I’ve… missed you…” you mumbled, and quickly retracted your hand so that you could turn away from his intense gaze.

“What was that?” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“I said that I missed you…” you pouted, your back still to him.

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.”

“I missed you, okay!” you conceded and glared at him from over your shoulder. “I’ve gotten rusty with my sword skills. I tried showing Marius what I learned the other day and nearly cut off one of my limbs.”

At the sound of his laughter, you twisted back around to lightly shove him away from you. “It’s not funny! I’m lucky he didn’t ban me from his shop!”

“I’m sure he and Diana are going to have a field day with that story,” he joked and leaned back on his palms to rest more comfortably in the sand.

“I hope they’ll be alright,” you said as you thought of Lupu and of all the villagers you’ve come to know as a second family.

“They’ll be fine. Not even a harsh Romanian winter can claim a life treated by doctor Lisa Tepes.” he joked and then gave you a reassuring smile. “It’s only a month, we’ll be back home before you know it.”

Home, you thought and looked around you. It was about time you came clean about this place, huh?

“You know this is where I’m from?” you said casually as if dropping a side comment about the nice weather.

“What?” Adrian asked completely stupefied. “You’re from Caliacra?”

You nodded your head. “Yup. This is where I’m from,” you got up from where you sat and walked a couple of inches closer so that your feet were barely in the water. “I used to spend all of my time on the beach when I was young. Well, the time that wasn’t occupied by classes, that is. I would go hunting for creatures in the tide pools,” you hummed and started to walk along the shoreline. “You never knew what you would find, be it a tiny crab or even a slippery octopus.” you stopped your quick stride and checked over your shoulder to find Adrian trailing right behind you.

“Tidepools?” he asked.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never explored low-tide!” you gaped at him. “Your father said that you tried to come here at least once a year! That is inexcusable.”

“It’s not my fault we were constantly occupied with family,” he grumbled. “It’s all about formality with us vampires.”

“That’s rough buddy,” you teased and slid out of the way of his carefully timed playful jab. “Hey! Watch it! It’s not my fault you were denied this as a child!” you laughed and started running across the shoreline. The wet sand easily sunk beneath the weight of your feet, and your jubilant laughter danced along with the wind as Adrian chased after you.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you raced each other, but you had to slow down once you had reached higher up on the bank since it started to shift from soft sand to rough sticks and stones. You panted from the exertion of such an exhilarating run and placed your hands on your knees to catch your breath. It had been quite a while since you had done something like that.

“What was all that about?” Adrian gasped as he caught up to you, and a part of you appreciated that he had actually run with you, he could have easily used his sneaky vampire speed if he had wanted.

“I…” you gasped out and looked up to face him. “I’m not sure… this,” you finally stood back up and looked around you. “I dunno there was this,” you took a couple of deep breaths and slowly found yourself facing the other direction.

A large lush forest lay just beyond the edge of the beach where the sand started to part off into soil. There was this… sense of familiarity, a feeling in the back of your mind that seemed to pull you in. You carefully made your way to the edge of the woods, heart hammering in your chest and palms beginning to sweat.

“I think… this is what called me here,” you said and gazed up at Adrian. You took a few quick glances around some of the brush and then pushed past a branch, allowing yourself to be enveloped by the thick covering of maple leaves and small aquatic plants. A thick underbrush of ferns appeared to part at your feet as you walked along the mud trails covered in thick plush moss. You weren’t exactly sure where you were going, but you had trusted your instincts this far, right?

You easily hopped over logs and skipped over withered, moss-covered branches, occasionally making a stop here and there to get a look at the many swamps that dotted the area. Occasionally you had to slow down to make sure that Adrian was able to catch up with your quick movements. Apparently, he was unaccustomed to making his way through thick vegetation.

It wasn’t until you reached a specific spot that you knew just why you had been lead here. There was a distinct feeling here, at this juncture, a sudden pressure that hits you just behind the sinus’s, one that makes you take a step back to get a second look at things. As you took another step forward the surge of magic that hit you left you a little breathless. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, but it quite literally felt as though you were having magic poured in you.

The plants, from the grass to the trees to the flowers and the tiniest leaves called out to you in a wonderous symphony; it was as if the entire forest was heralding your miraculous return.

You had finally made it back, back home.

Laughter pours out of you as you start to skip ahead, bouncing with every step and occasionally spinning around to get a good look at everyone. Ferns grabbed at your fingers and ankles, desperately trying to keep you close, with even the grass curling around your toes in affection. Large trees seemed to sing with the wind, their trunks humming a beat as their leaves chimed in a beautiful soft tune. It was simply magical.

“I can’t believe it!” you cried out and spun around with your arms outstretched. “This,” you gasped and ran over to Adrian. “This is my forest! My forest!” you shouted. “The one that surrounded my village,” you added when Adrian only looked at you as though you had gone a little mad.

He looked around, albeit a little nervously, for he sensed that he wasn’t exactly welcomed here. Perhaps it had something to do with him being a man?

“This forest protected my coven from so much, and we protected her in turn,” you said and rested a hand on a nearby tree trunk. “She was where I found refuge shortly after the attack on my village,” you said forlornly, and you felt the whole forest sag with you at the mention of that day. “This place had also been damaged by those men,” you spat. “They had burned quite a handful of very ancient trees, ones that we all still miss very dearly,” you said and brushed your fingers along a handful of honeysuckle plants.

“This is where I really learned to hone in my healing and plant magic,” you explained and walked over to where Adrian stood, listening to you with avid fascination. “It was through the teachings of the forest nymphs that I was able to harness all of this anger and resentment that I had festering inside of me and turn it into something good.” you looked all around you, a smile on your face. “I honestly don’t know if I’d be here today if it wasn’t for this place.”

“That’s…” Adrian began, but his voice failed him as he ran his fingers through his now messy bun-hair. “I never knew…” he finally said.

“It’s okay,” you said and took a hold of both his hands. “I only ever told your father about all this, but even he doesn’t know this much,” you brought up your hands and gave him a smile. “Can’t you feel it? This place is practically humming with life.”

You close your eyes for a brief moment and take a deep breath. Within a few seconds, a bright green light emanates from your palms and as it passes into Adrian’s hands, his arms jolt as a surge of pure magic seeps through his veins.

His golden eyes are blown wide in surprise and he is utterly mystified by what he just felt.

“That was…?” he asked, and you nodded your head.

“That was a portion of the magic that lies inside the very roots of these woods,” you said and smiled.

“That’s incredible,” he said in awe, curiously looking over all the trees and plants now.

You felt butterflies dance in your stomach as you watched Adrian appreciating such a sacred place to you. It felt so nice to be able to share it with someone who was a part of your new life.

The snapping of a twig from behind you caused you to whip your head in that direction and cautiously stalk towards a bush that seemed to be rumbling.

You let out a cry of surprise as five shapes leap from out of the brush and latch themselves onto you.

Adrian calls out your name and when he receives no response, he races over to where he last saw you, his magic coiling around the tips of his fingers as he readied himself to blast whatever it had decided to mess with you--

“Adrian no! It’s okay!” you gasped through a fit of laughter.

When his gaze landed on you, he discovered that you had been captured by a viciously clingy group of… forest nymphs.

They were tiny things, with big round colorful eyes and silky hair that seemed to mingle in with the rest of their body. Their hands appeared to be long strings of vines that currently had a tight grip on your arms and legs, and he noticed dozens of flowers that had sprouted on different parts of their body. When you finally corralled them off of you, they stood about knee-height to Adrian, and a few of them gave him curious glances, but most downright ignored him.

They babbled away in their high pitched voices, going on-and-on about how much they missed you and how they had so much to tell you!

“Girls,” you said, stopping all of them mid-sentence. “I’m so happy to see you as well, but you’re not just going to ignore this new guest, are you?”

They all simultaneously turned around to face Adrian, who gave them a nervous smile and an awkward wave.

“You brought a man into these woods?” one said sternly.

“Oooh, it is a man!” another one giggled.

“What’s his name? What’s his name?” another whispered urgently.

“This is Adrian,” you said as you introduced him. “He’s the son of a doctor I’ve been learning under.”

“Oh he seems more than that,” one of them teased, and when you glared down at her, she giggled and vanished into a pile of leaves.

“Ooh I see why you brought him in here now!” one of them whispered to you, then they all started to laugh and before you could even reprimand them, they would vanish from sight by turning into a plant. Mischevious little things.

You huffed as the final one sprouted up as a fresh daisy and turned to Adrian to offer your apologies.

“No, it’s alright,” he chuckled. “I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?”

You blew some hair out of your face and dusted off your hands that had become covered in dirt. “No, they’re just…” you frowned as you tried to find the right adjective. “Shy?” you settled for, but you knew that was about as far away from the truth as you could get.

Even if they had disappeared from sight, you could still feel them around you and every once-in-awhile you could hear them giggle and gossip to one another. They seemed to be following you, but as you neared closer and closer to a visible clearing, they slowly came to a halt. As you and Adrian exited the forest, you looked back and saw the group of them standing near the very edge of the woods, waving you goodbye.

As you two started to walk down a small hill, you took the opportunity to get a look at where it is you ended up. It was a field, a large one that spread out across a nearby coastline, the sound the ocean being a faint hum against your ears. Getting closer you were able to see what the flowers were and in that moment, time seemed to stand still.

This place… you thought. I know this place…

You walked further into the field until you were knee-deep in the tall, soft grass and surrounded by these gorgeous white flowers that looked like pearls shining in the sunshine. You felt a tug on your heart, one so powerful that it brought you to your knees, one that made everything so clear. The forest… the nymphs… the feeling of familiarity that you had once you stepped out into this place…

Hot tears streamed down your face as your vision focused on the flowers swaying in the wind around you. Poppies… they were white poppies.

Images from the vision you had of your family flashed in your mind and you remembered the white poppy you had found yourself holding after you had said goodbye. You heaved a heavy breath as you gently reached out and touched one of the flowers, practically trembling as their soft petals graced your fingertips.

You heard your name being called out, but…

You felt yourself slowly lay onto the grass, letting yourself become encompassed by these flowers as tears quietly slid down your cheeks.

It wasn’t long until Adrian found you though, the call of your name becoming filled with shock and a sense of urgency when he spotted you laying amongst the plants.

“Are you alright?”

You felt the grass around you flatten under his weight and when you opened your eyes, you saw that he had started to kneel down in front of you. Slowly getting up from your position on the ground, you give him a smile.

“Adrian,” you said, your lip trembling. “This is where my village was… this was my home.” fresh tears leaked from your eyes as you said this, and you quickly tried to wipe them away.

“Are you sure?”

You vigorously shook your head. “Yes… I can feel it,” you said and gasped as more tears fell down your face. “This place… it’s beautiful,” you whimpered and brought your hands over your eyes as you quietly sobbed.

For so long you wondered just had happened to this place. Had the forest regrown and nature reclaimed what was once hers? Or had the area suffered so much bloodshed that the very earth was contaminated?

The amount of relief that you felt seeing this… at being able to feel that their spirits were at rest… it was indescribable.

“I’m so happy,” you finally said and leaned your head on Adrian’s shoulder, a gentle breeze caressing the two of you as you sat amongst the dancing poppies. “I’m so happy they were all able to find peace.”

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kayteewritessteve · 5 years

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Love and War - 1/16

Description: In a harsh and cruel medieval world, you set out alongside your sister on a perilous quest to find your foolish missing brother. A quest that will lead you onto a forbidden and unforgiving land, a land ruled and controlled by a ruthless Warlord King. One who does not look favourably upon trespassers of any kind, and punishes all with a iron fist. Will you be able to find your brother in time, will you be able to not only rescue him but also keep yourself out of harm's way? Or will you be captured, in more ways than one? Only time will tell. But what you do know is you will forever be altered by this journey. You will never be the same once it’s finished. And that knowledge is what truly terrifies you the most.

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 3,420 ish.

Pairing: Medieval!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG for now. May become 18+ later.

Warnings: Violence. Curse words. Mentions of fears and potentially brutal medieval tactics. Most likely more to come down the road. Please don’t let these warnings scare you too much, give the story a try before you judge it.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

I JUST WANT TO APOLOGIZE TO EVERYONE NOW, THE READ MORE LINKS AREN’T WORKING FOR ME LATELY. SO I CAN’T SHORTEN THIS POST AT ALL. DANGIT! PLEASE DON’T HATE ME!!! 😩😩😩♥️♥️♥️

“You will marry him, Y/N,” Athos sternly told you, “there is no escaping this union. It is already set.”

“How dare you,” you seethed from your place standing in the middle of the large room, directly in front of his enormous throne. “King or not, you can not make me! I wont do it. I would rather die!”

“You know that isn’t possible,” he mumbled and shook his head, as if he were exasperated with you, as if you were some silly child throwing a pointless tantrum. Instead of a woman refusing to wed a man she loathed, entirely. “And the deal has already been made.”

“Can I at least know the reasons for why you are forcing this?” You crossed your arms, “why you have thoughtlessly given my hand to that man?” You spat the last part in disgust, as if the words were a vulgar curse. Hepha was not a man, far from it actually, he was more of a pompous coward. At least in your eyes anyways.

The King sighed deeply, his large presence shrinking and deflating just a little. Just enough to show you how tired he truly was. But you pretended not to notice that, refusing to let it interfere with your outrage towards all of this. He locked eyes with you, “it wasn’t thoughtlessly, Y/N. He trapped Hypatia in a ploy for revenge, we tried to free her but our plans were foiled. You must see, child, there was no other way, he refused to release her unless I betrothed you to him.”

“We both know that isn’t the only reason,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes at him.

“It is the only reason that matters!” he snapped back, “did you not hear me, Y/N, he had the Queen. Regardless of my personal opinions of you, or of your affairs, this was entirely to save her. Your previous transgressions played no hand in any of this.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“And I do not care what you believe, you will marry him. You won’t be escaping this union.”

You hesitated, only one question bouncing around in your mind now, “does Alarick know?”

“He does not, and he will not learn of it until it’s all finalized and finished.”

“Then I will tell him myself. He is going to be furious with you,” you threatened as you turned away from him and went to storm out. You were not going to stand by and allow this. And you knew Ari wouldn’t either. He’d be able to find a way to fix this, to end all of this ridiculousness. And most importantly he’d be able to save you from this greatly unwanted marriage.

“You do not walk away from me!” the King bellowed, his deep commanding voice freezing your steps, and causing you to slowly turn back around to face him. “You will show me the respect I am owed. And as for your threat, you will not find him. I have sent him and Harlin away to deal with more important matters. They are not to return until after the wedding,” he informed you, his words instantly leaving you feeling entirely trapped and utterly hopeless. “Now, with my permission, you may leave my throne room. But do not forget, you have a wedding to attend tomorrow morning. Get some rest and do not be late.”

“Fine, I will leave, but I will not be attending that wedding. You can not force me,” you turned on your heel, going to storm out but Athos deep voice halts your actions once more.

“You have no say in this, child. And do not forget who you are speaking to, I do not want to have to punish you for your stubborn insolence.”

“You already are, this wedding is a punishment,” you snapped back then stormed out of the room. Ignoring his hollers for you to halt, you refused to go through with this. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You’d just have to find another way out of it, you’d just have to save yourself this time.

Some time later, in a land far, far away.

“Are you sure this is the way he went?” You whisper skeptically as you are crouched down behind a thicket of brambles.

“I am,” Wanda whispers back from her place crouched down beside you, “I know he came this way, I can feel it.”

“Oh great,” you sigh deeply, then mumble, “let’s just continue to risk our necks for your ‘feelings’.”

“You and I both know my ‘feelings’ are always right,” Wanda glares at you.

“So far, yes,” you cross your arms and glare back at her, “but it’s only a matter of time before you get it wrong, and we both end up dead because of it.”

“So you don’t want to make sure Pietro is okay?” She raises a brow at you, challenging you. And you narrow your eyes at her, of course you want to make sure he is okay, but you’d prefer if it wasn’t at the potential cost of your own life.

She smirks smugly at your silence, “that’s what I thought. You care about him just as much as I do, don’t pretend otherwise.”

“Of course I do, he’s my bro—“ you begin to whisper harshly at her but are abruptly cut off when you hear a twig snapping, off in the distance.

Your eyes instantly flick towards where the noise came from, seeing two insanely large figures about 50 yards away. Clearly they are patrolling his land for trespassers, such as yourself and Wanda, as you both are currently far too deep into the King’s land. Much further in then you’d have ever liked, or imagined you’d be.

It was common knowledge in your small, coastal town that it was heavily against the rules to so much as look towards the King’s land, let alone ever step foot on it. And anyone foolish enough to ever do the latter, was never seen or heard from again.

The King was a secretive man, not much was known of him, his territory or his people, but the rumours and whisperings were the things of childhood nightmares—most adult nightmares as well—At least all the ones you’d heard so far about him were.

He was a warlord, a bloodthirsty beast who ruled with an iron fist and gave no mercy to his foes. He barely ever even left his own land, at least not long enough for you or any other commoner to actually set eyes upon him. He only left his domain for war, and once he won—because he always won—he would retreat back to his castle, and not be heard of again until the next battle would arise.

But never having laid eyes on him was a good thing, a great thing actually, as those who did never lived long enough to tell the tales. No one could even give a solid answer as to what he was truly like, let alone how he looked, or how old he was. But of course many made up stories of encounters with the Warlord King, though you couldn’t actually take any of them seriously. But they made for both horrifying and intriguing stories, to be sure.

One such story you’d heard in passing was that he was larger than any man to ever walk the earth, so large it was believed he was a descendant of Giants. Large beings that no longer walked the earth, but had many, many centuries ago.

Another rumour was that he was a mad King, that he’d gone insane when his wife was kidnapped and killed by his enemies—as he had a great many of those—and the loss of her had sent him well and truly over the edge. Had made him became an angry, vengeful King who sought to kill all those involved in the Queens kidnap and murder. And then once he had a taste for blood and power he just couldn’t stop. Even after he had successfully exacted his revenge on all those involved.

Though there was one story about him that intrigued you, more than terrified you. It was said his lineage could be tied to the ancient Gods of old. The tale was vague at best, no one really knew the full facts, but supposedly his lineage was linked to the King of Gods himself, somehow. That somewhere along the line a child, a son, was born. That child then grew to be a great and noble warrior who conquered this land, and built his empire upon it, becoming the first King of Winterbourne.

But believing that an actual God had come down to produce a child with a human, was far fetched at best. You strongly believe this tale only came about in an attempt to quell your towns immense fear of the ruthless King. Something slightly romanticized to help smooth everyone’s unease, as your town was one of only a couple that directly bordered his land. Being so close to him and his territory made most in your townsfolk restless, at best.

But that was really the only intriguing tale that you’d heard. The rest were all—well, to put it lightly, they all terrified you to your very core.

And the most horrific of them all, was the tale that he had tricked a powerful sorceress into believing he loved her, so that she would build him a half breed army, and then once she had, he had her executed. The half breed army was stronger than any other in the realm and that was why the King never lost a battle. By day the army was man, but by night they were beast. Monsters so large they rivalled the size of even the largest of bovines. Fearsome, bloodthirsty creatures who could smell your fear from 100 yards away, and kill you before you ever saw it coming.

You shutter at the thought as you clench your eyes shut and try to envision being back in your cosy little room, sitting at your desk, drawing all the things you dreamed about. As was your favourite pastime, since you always seemed to have such very vivid and overly realistic dreams, ones that you could never make any sense of. But that you also didn’t want to ever forget.

“Once they are out of sight we will continue on,” Wanda whispers from beside you, nearly causing you to jump in surprise as you had been so lost in your own mind, you’d forgotten she was beside you, and where you were, for a moment.

You snap your eyes back open and watch as one of the two guards raises his head slightly, then glances around. The motion sending another unpleasant shutter through you. But then to your utter joy, they both start to move away from you, and your hiding place. Though this entire moment leaves you completely aware that you really shouldn’t be here. You do not want to find out, first hand, which of those disturbing stories are true. The half breed army being the least favourable one, to be sure.

“Wands,” you turn to look at your adopted sister, “we really shouldn’t be here,” you stress.

“I know,” she sighs and looks to you, “but we can’t just leave Pietro out here,” she takes your hand in hers and gives it a squeeze, “he’d come for us.”

You nod slowly as you turn to see how far away the guards are now, “you’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just scared.”

“I am too, but I’ll do everything in my power to keep us both safe, I promise,” she vows with another hand squeeze as if to reassure you that her words are true. “It appears they are gone, we should continue,” she says as she stands from her hiding spot, pulling you up with her.

You both take a moment to stretch out your aching legs, having been stuck crouching for much longer than your bodies are used to. Then you both adjust your skirts and cloaks, detaching any bramble branches that currently cling to the thick, coarse wool materials.

You each do a final glance around and then step out from behind the bushes, ready to continue on. Wanda glances up at the sky, the overcast clouds blocking out most of the direct sunlight. “I believe it’s about mid day now,” she says as she looks back to you, “we only have a few more hours of daylight so we need to find Pietro quickly.”

You nod, not being very good at Sun Tracking yourself, so you’d just take her word for it. You both quickly but quietly make your way forward, using the natural foliage to hide your small forms. While keeping both your eyes and ears alert to anything, and everything, around you, wanting to notice anyone nearby long before they notice you.

You hear the sounds of a lazy river off to your left and make your way towards it, needing to refill your canteens as you’d both been on the King’s land since the wee hours of the morning. You’d decided to set out shortly before dawn, using the blanket of night to cross his border, as it was the most heavily guarded spot. Knowing that once you were deep enough onto his territory, you’d encounter less guards as the border patrols would normally catch any trespassers long before they got anywhere near the castle walls.

Guards were far less frequent throughout the interior of the territory as, honestly, no one was stupid enough to even think about entering his land uninvited—well besides Pietro. And, I guess Wanda and yourself now, though you were only here because Pietro had been foolish enough to enter the King’s domain first.

He had left 7 days ago to hunt, normally he’d stick to your own towns territory, but this time he had stupidly decided to hunt on the King’s land. However in his defence, this area did have the best game, to be sure. All the animals just seemed to grow larger on the King’s lands, as opposed to anywhere else. So if Pietro was successful in tracking, hunting and extricating a wild deer from here, you’d be set for meat all winter. One deer here equaled about 4 from your territory. But hunting this land was not allowed, it was strictly forbidden actually, and if caught doing so, the punishment was death.

But Pietro was always too cocky, he believed he could outrun anyone, including the King’s guards. And even though he was faster than any man you’d ever known, he didn’t know this land like the guards did. This was entirely unfamiliar terrain for all of you.

So when Pietro hadn’t returned by the 5th day, which was usually the maximum day for his hunts, you and Wanda began to worry. Though you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt and just continued to wait out his return. But by the 7th day of him being gone, you both knew something had happened to him. And then Wanda formulated this ridiculous plan to enter the King’s land and find him.

You had been reluctant at first, not wanting to get your neck cut, but eventually you agreed to her insane suicide mission, as you knew Pietro would have come for either of you, if the roles were reversed. And honestly, Pietro was the provider for you and Wanda. He’d taken you in with open arms and had basically adopted you as a sister. Though everyone in town was told you were his actual blood sister, and had just been living with a distant relative for most of your life.

However, that was just a story you’d all fabricated. Where you’d really come from, or who you were actually related to, was unknown to any of you. They’d found you just about a year ago, aimlessly wandering in the woods near their town, confused and disorientated. You had no memory of where you’d come from or where you’d been. And they took pity on you, bringing you home with them and cleaning you up then offering you a warm, dry, safe place to live.

Though you don’t remember them finding you, the first thing you do remember is waking up in a bed in their home. Confused and weak. They nursed you back to full health and you’ve been with them ever since. Living as if they were actually your long lost siblings, you’d dream often of learning that they were, in fact, your blood family. That you did in fact belong with them. But then you’d wake and the truth would come back to you. The truth that you tried so desperately to ignore.

You didn’t actually know who you were. You didn’t know where you belonged. You didn’t know where you’d come from, or where you’d been trying to get to. But what you did know, was that something was missing. Something always just felt off, like you needed to find something very important to you. However, you didn’t have the foggiest of ideas as to what that something was. You just knew it was out there, somewhere, waiting for you.

“Here, give me your canteen,” Wanda’s words pull you back into the real world, noticing her hand outstretched towards you now.

You quickly detach it from under your cloak, where it has been tied onto a belt around your waist and hand it to her. She bends down and refills it in the stream, then hands it back to you as she steps off the river stone, the one she’d used to reach the water’s edge without getting her skirts wet. “We will follow the river for as long as we can. Knowing Pietro, he would have done the same. If he hasn’t been captured, we will find him somewhere along it.”

“Okay,” you reply quietly as you both start to walk again. You were always envious of Pietro and Wanda’s skills when it came to tracking and hunting, you’d clearly not come from a background where that was ever needed. Or maybe you had, and you just couldn’t remember? Either way, you always felt slightly useless in comparison to the both of them.

You had no notable skills to speak of, unless you count your ability to draw as a skill. To some, maybe it was, but to you, it was a rather useless talent. You couldn’t make a living off of it, nor did it protect you from the world. It was just a hobby, something to help you pass the time until Wanda could finally unlock your memories.

How was she planning to do that? Well, Wanda is a witch, though she isn’t part of a coven, nor has she ever been formally trained through one, but she is capable of a few minor spells. And is slowly learning the extent of her powers, and just what she is able to do.

She had been very young when her powers were made known, and she’d almost been caught when she casted a spell by mistake in front of a few towns children. Pietro had freaked out, and managed to cover it up but he was worried the townsfolk would figure out her secret and burn her at the stake. So in the middle of the night he packed them up and moved them far, far away. Living in the woods for a few years, just until Wanda could control her power and learn to hide it.

Once she had a handle on it, they moved into the town of Triskelion, and have lived there ever since. The town with which you now also call home. It wasn’t a huge place, the population consisting of around 300 people and located right on the coast. With the sea on one side and the King’s land on the other, both prevented the town from growing any larger. But it was a stunning little place, most of the townsfolk were friendly enough, though the three of you kept mainly to yourselves. Just for fear of either Wanda’s secret or yours getting out.

Pietro made a decent living as a blacksmith, and was able to provide for both Wanda and you rather well. You owe him so much, which is exactly why you now find yourself a few hours into this unfamiliar and unwelcoming land. Illegally searching for your foolish brother, with your magical sister by your side—

Another branch snapping behind you startles you out of your thoughts as you whip around to see what caused the noise. Wanda doing the same as you both come face to face with two massive guards. Ones who do not look friendly, nor happy, at all.

“Well, well, well,” the larger of the two starts, “and what do we have here?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

So there it is! The first part! I can’t wait to hear what you all think of it so far, it’s starts off a little slow. Just building the setting and backgrounds. But it will pick up soon! As for posting, I’m not sure of a schedule for that just yet, most likely every few days I’ll put a mew chapter up! At least 2 at weeks, for sure!

Also if you want to be removed or added to the tags list, just comment, message or send an ask! I can make both happen! ;)

@hopefulmoonobject @caps-lockdown @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tessvillegas @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @imdiegohargreeves @zombiepotterfour @mu-mu-rs @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @marvel13princess @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @wordlesscaptain @captain-hammer-of-asgard @starstucknature

#au fanfiction #fanfiction #long post #long read #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #medieval!steve rogers #medieval au #medival!steve rogers x reader #love and war #chapter 1 #fantasy au #fantasy!steve rogers

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comicteaparty · 4 years

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July 25th-July 31st, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from July 25th, 2020 to July 31st, 2020. The chat focused on the following question:

Where can your comic be read, what is it about, and why should people read it?

carcarchu

last one

mariah (rainy day dreams)

You can read Rainy Day Dreams on it's homesite: http://rainydaydreams.mariahcurrey.com/ Book 1 of RDD is also currently in pre-orders for both physical and digital books. This volume collects the newly redrawn and remastered first five charters. Currently not all of those pages are online so book buyers will get to see them first https://gumroad.com/mariahcurrey Rainy Day Dreams is a manga influenced, character driven supernatural story with dreamlike pacing. It follows the lives Tristin, an excitable and friendly human who becomes trapped in the Nameless World after a treasure hunt gone wrong, Mara, a reclusive retired knight belonging to an ancient lineage of psychics, and Michael, a sad vampire torn between his vampire instincts and being the soft boy he is deep down. Come for the compelling characters, interpersonal drama, and found family, stay for the underlying slow build of the cosmic machinations of the Nameless World's gods and a villain from the past bent on undoing the very fabric of reality. Reasons you should read it beyond the above pitch: - I've been told by frequently people find it's relaxing to read. We all need a little relaxation - Has a female driven narrative - I take every chance I get to put my characters in ball gowns or party dresses - Monsters! Cute monsters, scary monsters! Monsters that want to eat you, monsters that want to smooch you! - I make this comic traditionally with ink wash so enjoy all the beautiful ink blooms! - Chapter 18 starts this week

CoppertheCarutor

Oh wow, I missed out on A LOT! Dang! Well, here it goes I guess. To start off, please read with discretion, this project is rated R/17+ and for now contains: Abuse, discussion of suicide, blood, violence, queerphobia, trauma, mental illness, self-harm, mild body horror, substance abuse, profanity and full-frontal nudity. You can read my comic, The Guide to a Healthy Relationship, on it's main site: http://tgtahr.spiderforest.com/ I also have it posted on Tapas, Webtoons (nudity censored), Comicfury, FlowFo and Itch.io. The Guide to a Healthy Relationship is a slowburn character driven psychological drama about an emotionally immature alcoholic trying to make amends, and fix his friendship with his ex-childhood friend upon discovering they're not dead. Unfortunately the situation is much more complicated and serious than he can comprehend. Why you should check it out: - Possibly interesting if you enjoy non-fantastical character studies and/or Psychology. - May be cathartic if you like consuming heavy content in a controlled environment. - Has some light horror elements. - Contains an extremely flawed LGBT+ cast. - No romance. - This comic is drawn traditionally with pens and color pencils. - The story is a little over halfway finished. - Contains/will contain beaches if you like the beach. - Lots of sky shots.(edited)

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

(Ahhh this was hard to write out, i'll really miss this server) Ghost Junk Sickness is a free to read LGBTQ+ sci-fi that tackles themes of found family, accountability, and acceptance. It rated T for it's course language and violence, and can be read on it's official website, < https://www.ghostjunksickness.com/ > . Books 1-3 are available on the store (link on site) and we're currently on our way to wrap up and print vol 4! Ghost Junk Sickness is about two bounty hunters with an unstable dynamic who are pushed to pursue the elusive and deadly bounty dubbed The Ghost. It updates mondays and fridays, features an extensive cast with queer rep, topics about dealing with trauma, responsibility, and taking control. GJS has: -Space ships! -Lived in worlds/ extensive world building through illustrative backgrounds and characters - Slow burn character growth, expanding relationships, and new love -Drawn traditionally and worked on by a team of two! -Long run story that reached the halfway point, GJS has a huge buffer of over 800 pages now, so it's a time sinker! - hot lizard lady (best part)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

holy shit 800 page buffr

OH wait by buffer you mean archive omg

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

(oh YE we only have 70 page buffer now woohopps lol)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

holy shit 70 page buffer

that's like 10 months

eliushi [Keyspace]

KEYSPACE: A Winged Tale is a story about kids with wings for hair, and can be found at https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/keyspace-a-winged-tale/list?title_no=322364 https://tapas.io/series/KEYSPACE-A-Winged-Tale/ TW: Body Horror (comes with having wings sprouting from the head and more) Keyspace is my passion project about a world between portals that is dying. A Winged Tale is the first story of this series and touches upon the deeper magic that unites the work. It’s about a wingless girl trying to find her missing scientist mother in a laboratory beneath a forest, winged children discovering their origins and Machines that once ravaged the world, now lost. It’s a story for those who grew up with Studio Ghibli stories but want a little more complications and lore but still retain hope for the future. TL;DR: Come for winged hair, sad robots, possibly dragons, lots of science. The comic returns August 1

CoppertheCarutor

AH! Thank you for reminding about a couple content warnings I forgot to add.

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Phantomarine is a story about a haunted ocean, a ghostly princess, and her journey to save her soul from a death god known as the Red Tide King. http://www.phantomarine.com/ TW: death, body horror, limb loss Princess Phaedra's untimely and mysterious death casts her out into the dark waters of the Candlelight Sea, forcing her to wander the world as an ethereal seaghost. Her journey toward resurrection quickly evolves into a grand maritime adventure on her ship, the Mantaluna, along with a crew of similarly-cursed friends and familiars. But Phaedra's mission has a dark undercurrent to it - a divine mystery that, when solved, will force her to question everything about her life, her death, and her world's long-dead past. If you like:

-THE COLOR BLUE (or just the ocean) -general spookiness that never gets too dark or gory -flamboyant villains of various kinds -swashbuckling pirate-y stories -fancy boats and pretty islands -big elemental animal gods fighting -friends and family fighting for each other -lots of hero-vs-villain salt and sass -DOGS

then heck yeah, this is your comic (edited)

Miranda (Into the Swell)

Into the Swell is about a Pirate with nothing left to lose but his life and a Wizard who wants more than a life of entertaining royals with party tricks being thrown together on the treasure hunt of their lives. The official blurb is: Ocean swells are remnants of storms hundreds of miles away. So do past actions cause swells of destiny on the shores of the present. Fate will always find a way. Given the choice between a one way trip to the gallows or a return to high sea adventure, imprisoned pirate Fletcher makes the obvious choice. With Court appointed wizard Kelwyn watching his every move, the two set off to reclaim a stolen treasure for King and Country. The ocean journey leads the duo through uncharted waters that hide dangers and secrets that could unravel the very fabric of their lives. Could this treasure hunt prove more adventure than they bargained for? TW: deaths? You can find it on https://tapas.io/series/into-the-swell or Webtoons It’s just starting out so there’s not much yet but you gotta start somewhere!

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Heyo! For all you who don't yet know me, I work on Whispers of the Past, a fantasy comic about a farm girl and an amnesiac elf man going on a journey to learn who they really are. https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/whispers-of-the-past/list?title_no=191366 Age Rating: PG-13 or T+ TW: death and corpses, blood and violence, bladed weapons, profanity, depictions of racial discrimination, alcohol, miscarriage, suicide, suggestive content Magical powers can only come from the other side... When Aniya discovers a foreigner with amnesia, she sets out to help him find the answers to his nightmares. Along with their growing feelings for one another, they will uncover an identity riddled with magic, bloodlines, and betrayal. What WotP has to offer: - a unique painterly art style - in-depth world-building (including a conlang) - hurt/comfort themes - hella family drama - MAGIC - ace, bi, and POC representation - cute romance - If you like high fantasy like ATLA, this might be right up your alley

Nutty (Court of Roses)

I wanna say first of all that thank you for this server. Even if I couldn't participate often, it was a lovely place, love you all!! Court of Roses is in several places, but its main site on Spiderforest is a page ahead! Best place to read it is here: http://courtofroses.spiderforest.com/ As summer comes to an end in the kingdom of Prismal, the Bardic Festival is in full swing, bringing together musicians and minstrels from all over. But amidst the celebration, a sinister plot of murder unfolds... Follow a ragtag group of bards as they band together and travel the realm of Prismal; Merlow the Rose, half-elf, charismatic leader, bagpiper, and perpetual drunk; Diana the Fleetfoot Fletcher, human tidinit player with a heart of gold; Nocturne, brooding but classy Infernal and violinist; Sven Rockscreamer, goliath drummer and seeker of justice; and Feliks Halfdance, curious gnome who plays accordion and magically conjures their entire backup. And who knows! Mayhaps they'll solve a murder mystery together! The comic is greatly LGBTQ-friendly, and takes inspiration from both classic fantasy themes (Dungeons and Dragons, Lord of the Rings, The Elder Scrolls, etc.) as well as music across all genres. Specific pages and scenes might even include their own suggested theme songs in the author notes. Contains Fantasy Violence and Alcohol Use(edited)

AntiBunny

You can as always read my comic at http://AntiBunny.net/ and is a film noir inspired story about anthropomorphic rabbits and the difficulty with coexisting with humanity. Crime and conspiracies move the plot along, but in film noir there's rarely a clear black and white. Why should you read it? Do you like stories about crime and conspiracies? Do you like bunnies? Do you want to see a contrast of cute and grim, and see relatable characters who deal with mental health issues, and fight a struggle for acceptance? Do you ask yourself the question what is identity? Well then this is for you.

You can find my other comic at http://nailbat.AntiBunny.net/. Nailbat is part of the AntiBunny universe, and deals with many of the same issues, but using a more straightforward and action packed superhero story. If you love superheroes and action you'll enjoy it, and maybe along the way get into the deeper lore of the AntiBunny world.

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

Thanks everyone who I have chattet with in here, it has been a delight <3 Wayfinders: Off Course Can be read on Tapas or Webtoons (I prefer tapas ) https://linktr.ee/snackbagstudios Whats it about? You may ask. In a world where magic is as natural as breathing, and the gods are known to actually answer some prayers, a ship is sent to keep the fragile peace between 2 countries that has been at war for 60 years. But guess what? The ship crashes almost immediately. Now the 3 only survivors, a runaway monk, with unexplained powers, the noble son and peace advocate, and a chaos child with an affinity for magic washes ashore on an unknown island and is forced together by a magical compass. With navigation, and magic being broken, it is not an easy task to cross the ocean. If only they knew of the chaos which is unravelling outside their comfortable lives. If they thought this adventure was going to be uneventful, they are in for a surprise. Why should you read it? It is a mix between the Road to Eldorado, and Avatar the Last Airbender, and if that short pitch is not enough, I don't know how else to sell it. It has fun colors, anime reference, and a lot of ocean and sinister magics Thanks to all the admins for putting in so much work in this server

Feather J. Fern

Okay, I have like three comics, and the fourth one coming soon so.....Lets get the easy ones out of the way. On Webtoons, you can read Teasday or Don't you hate it when...(DYHIW) https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/dont-you-hate-it-when/list?title_no=486501 https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/teasday/list?title_no=169870&page=1 DYHIW is a gag comic, so if you want a little laugh to brighten your week, feel free to check it out. Teasday is a tea informative comic, but it's on a bit of a hiatus and ending soon. My current project is Gravitational Pull, a story about a depressed magical girl trying to save the world while also trying to get the energy to leave her bed that day. Read it if you like magical girls, space and representation of anxiety, depression, inferiority complex and learning to take each day slowly. http://gravitationalpull.featheryterrarium.com/ And when it comes out, Go Figure is my comedy action webtoon about someone who wants to use a powerful wish to cure their asthma and allergies over anything else.

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

JOE IS DEAD A band of pirates are visiting an island and they discover the dead body of their astronomer JOSEPH CINNABAR. He leaves behind a will with mysterious instructions that none of the pirates really feel like following. The crew decide to send the least-liked and least responsible pirate of them all on a solo mission to carry out Joe's final wishes. If you like: - Alternate historical timelines where the United States doesn't exist - Gay, lesbian, and transgender pirates - Morbid humor, death, dying - Biblical allusion - Warm colors - Alliteration - My handwriting - Birds or anything else, you will love to read JOE IS DEAD, a webcomic worked on entirely by me that will be at 150 pages within a week or so. My background is in marine biology and satirical writing, so I promise you this comic is funny and scientifically accurate. Rated PG 13, mild violence and swearing Where can I read it Read it on http://joeisdead.com/ (the main hosting website with some functional html) or on Tapas: https://tapas.io/series/JoeIsDead It's also on Webtoons but it's a couple chapters behind on there You can follow me on Twitter for information about updates https://twitter.com/sssfrs_

boogeymadam

Sink Your Hookteeth An LGBT+ Cosmic Horror/Love story about eldritch merfolk that fall for a pair of humans who are studying mermaids to cure a supernatural illness. CW: bodyhorror, gore, upperbody nudity, sickness, drowning, tryophobia, eye trauma, If you like:

-sea monsters

-big teeth

-painted comics

-nonbinary and binary transgender, lesbian, bisexual, and pansexual protagonists

-neurodivergent protagonists

-goofy friendship dynamics

-nasty and imperfect wlw couples

-enemies to lovers trope

-childhood friends to lovers trope

then this is a comic you might enjoy :D! It finished chapter 1 a few months ago with 195 pages, takes maybe an hour or two to read, and is currently on hiatus while I am building chapter 2's buffer. You can read it on Its own site https://hookteethcomic.com/ Webtoons https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/hookteeth/list?title_no=300709 Tapas https://tapas.io/series/Hookteeth/info

also i need to read more of these but joe is dead, wayfinders, keyspace: a winged tale, phantomarine, ghost junk sickness, the guide to a healthy relationship, and court of roses are all absolutely amazing and -chefs kiss- please give them all read if you aren't yet!

varethane

Comics!! Chirault A young half-demon named Teeko has been forced from her home, and to make matters worse, is now the size of a squirrel thanks to a wayward magic spell. Her only protection is the demon-hunter Kiran, who is a demon himself and lacks patience for children. Together, they must seek the help of a mage to reverse the spell on Teeko, but the journey is far from straightforward.. My first webcomic-- it's complete, it's a high fantasy adventure comic about finding family, fighting monsters, and also making friends with monsters (both outside and... inside). Check it out if you enjoy any of those things! http://chirault.sevensmith.net/ Wychwood Tiara is a delinquent who has been using a mysterious power to goof around for years without realizing the kind of attention it could attract. When a powerful organization finally tracks her down and attempts to recruit her, she has to decide what she really stands for. This is my new/current webcomic! It's a sci-fantasy genre-blender, with bits of post-apocalypse and urban fantasy thrown in as a treat just for fun. If you enjoy stories involving evil organizations, fire-flinging delinquents, and angsty supersoldiers, give it a look :U (Chapter 4 has just gotten started!) http://wychwood.sevensmith.net/

TaliePlume

Feather Cleanse (French: Nettoyage des plumes, Haitian Creole: Plim Geri) is a supernatural, sci-fi and military Shonen manga. Set in the year 2034 in the Haitian kingdom, Vérité Kindgom, the story follows 14 year old Soleil Andirans, her two older brothers and their cousin who joins their kingdom's military program to help Soleil find a wanted criminal and stopping a mad scientist from taking over the kingdom. This is a personal project that is very dear to me and I can't wait to share with you all hopefully around June of 2023. Why should you read it: -A positive Haitian representation -Strong female protagonist -Learning about a new culture - Family Bonds -Mad Scientists and experimentations - Criminal MasterMinds - Servant and Master relationships -Kings and Queens/Royalties -Dynamic and Impactful Fights Then, this is the comic for you.

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

Alrighty cracks knuckles SunnyxRain, a webcomic about monsters surviving college.....BY THE POWER OF FANFICTION. Follow Sunny Dupont, a gluttony demon as she navigates college life and fanfic writing with the help of her housemates Liam (a qilin she roped in as her beta/editor) and Aron (an ocean naga as a fan). A story of trauma recovery and learning lessons about life and love. If you like: -housemate shenanigans -fanfic/fandom culture exploration -kickass but seriously flawed protagonists recovering from trauma - VOID CAT -LGBTQ+ cast because I can -coffee gremlin cryptid dudes -sweet slow burn romance -lesser known mythological creature representation Then this webcomic is for you to read, and y'all can come read it here! https://tapas.io/series/SunnyxRain/info and HERE https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/sunnyxrain/list?title_no=409335(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

Well, Here we go ^^ I have 2 comics right now, so: Millennium: A sci fi adventure featuring two best friends as they seek to help anyone and everyone they can, where we put together a bit of a misfit crew who are all intent on bettering themselves and the world around them. It's a lighthearted, LGBT+ Slowburn The sci fi is soft and so are the characters It's got found family, hurt/comfort, and gentle handling of heavier themes. It's easy to read and shouldn't make you think too much, it's just an hour or two of simple adventure between friends! It can be read a lot of places! My personal site: https://millennium.spiderforest.com/ Webtoons: https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/millennium/list?title_no=110866&page=1 Tapas: https://tapas.io/series/Millennium Comic Fury: http://millennium.thecomicseries.com/ and Tumblr!: https://millennium-comic.tumblr.com/ Time and Time Again: A noir mystery about time traveling vampires! We follow Adam, a vampire, and his subject of study, Steve, the first werewolf/vampire. The two of them are trapped in the 20's, looking to solve the mystery of a missing relic. It's a limited palette, scroll style comic if you're looking for a bit more action and higher stakes, and a more serious tone, then this one might be a better fit for you than Millennium ^^ I'm planning on finishing it up relatively soon, so get in on it now! (It's currently on a short hiatus while school is doing me in) It can only be read on tapas! https://tapas.io/series/Time-and-Time-again

kayotics

Ingress Adventuring Company You can read Ingress Adventuring Company at https://www.ingress-comic.com/ TW: some gore, blood, violence Saving the world is a pretty big deal, but what do you do once you’re done with that and no one needs you anymore? Do you become a magic professor? Do you study a convoluted thesis that no one understands? Maybe you relive the glory days by starting up a one-man adventuring party to gather mystical artifacts for people who may or may not pay you. Or, if you’re Toivo Kissa, you do all of those things. Reasons to check it out! - You like D&D or other stories inspired by it - It’s got bittersweet comedy - Very fun villains - Expressive art - Elves. Just a lot of elves. - Sad Dads and old men - LGBTQ+ cast

maxwestart

Poison Ivy Gulch is hosted on its own WordPress site: http://www.poisonivygulch.com/ Poison Ivy Gulch is a funny Western set in a frontier town in the 1870s. The protagonists are Lotta Doler, a gambler, and her kid sidekick Ace. Other characters include a marshal, an undertaker, a prospector and many extras. Poison Ivy Gulch is a spiritual successor to Tumbleweeds. If you like Blazing Saddles, you'll love this!

sagaholmgaard

Ahh dang, thanks for the heads up!! Here it is: https://tapas.io/series/_Reclaim_ My comic, Reclaim, is about a prince that has to deal with the aftermath of a successful coup. His father is imprisoned and sentenced to death, and he's in hiding with his dear bodyguard. Now he has to save his dad and reclaim the throne from the power-hungry witch warrior Irene, but how can the two of them hope to stand a chance against the entire force of the empire? And what was the real reason for the coup in the first place? This is for people who want a heartfelt fantasy story, with inspiration from Steven Universe and themes around being a better person than you were yesterday, and sticking together through hardships!

PiraPiranha

DEPARTURE is a story about dead brothers, hot guys and competent women! Lights! Camera! Action! The flaws of our predecessors are the burdens that we carry today! As galactic governance has been passed down from generation to generation of divine beings, the wars and insecurities of the previous pantheons are weighing down on our world. Whether it’s vanquishing your greatest enemies, or buying tomorrow’s cereal, keeping this flaming shipwreck of a universe together is going to require a little elbow grease, and a lot of flashy super powers! Follow Kovit, a space fighter turned part-time cook and his friends Casey (Cool, has a nice jacket) and Vermillion (Dumb, has stupid hair) as he tries to help the most powerful beings in the universe keep it together (Ostensibly by beating them up). Check it out here! http://departurecomic.cfw.me/(edited)

seetherabbit

Vulperra is an anthology comic featuring superheros, cowboys and regular common folk in the fantasy world of Vulperra. Most of the stories are about the hero Flash Gauntlet, who travels from place to place to solve problems with his magical gauntlets which were bestowed to him by the goddess of the land. https://vulperra.com/

NAAN

Legendary Beings Ara & Celi is about a young girl, Miyara, who is chosen to be the successor to a specific line of Angels – headed by none other than Ara–and with it, duties that extend beyond the physical world. Only one problem: Miyara has no desire to do the job! What will happen then, especially with Celi, Ara’s counterpart, is intent on causing chaos in her life?! You can read Ara & Celi at its main site: http://ac.jadinerhinestudios.com/ Here is the Webtoons mirror: https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/legendary-beings-ara-celi/list?title_no=59422 Doesn't have any trigger warnings (maybe that (1) page in chapter 2 is too creepy-crawly for anyone?), and it's currently on hiatus because I'm working on chapter 4, will update again when I have completed it! So enjoy the 3 chapters so far! If you like: • MAGICAL GOILS • an old school b&w shoujo manga style (according to some people, and I don't even do it on purpose ) • on that note, since the 3rd chapter, the comic is drawn traditionally! (all covers are in color and traditional) • expressive comedy • language jokes and notes • angels and demons, yes, it's one of those but is anybody really the bad guy here • a lion and a jinn walk into a bar-- • slow worldbuilding and character development • heck if I know what else, you should just check it out and tell me what you think later like in the good ol' days

L Hornsby

Heyo, I haven't been very active. I'm not used to Discord. If anybody would like some silly comics about puppies that live in the clouds and enjoy parties (and also happen to be princesses) my comic Princess Pups has you covered. It's all ages friendly so if you have younger kids you want to get into comics, it's a swell read according to my 3 years old :) https://tapas.io/series/Princess-Pups/info

carcarchu

@L Hornsby oh i didn't know you were in this server! i actually read your comic because our comics have really similar names ahaha

L Hornsby

Oh wow hey there! :)

I usually lurk on Instagram and Twitter these days and have been crocheting more than comics lately

mathtans

What the heck, been on hiatus more than a year but there's an archive and it's not like there's any dangling plot points. I personify mathematics! Because equations are people too. The hairstyles are the graphs, and there are puns.

Main site: http://mathtans.ca/

Tapas mirror: https://tapas.io/series/Any-Q

It's called "Any ~Qs" because notQ is the symbol for irrational numbers. So anything irrational, in a sense. Very G rated - maybe PG, some discussion of biological sex and tangential politics. Enjoy, possibly.(edited)

Spring-heeled Jack

Hey all! My comic is a horror comic that features some LGBTQA+ characters in the main cast. Today is also my monthly update on public sites. I do four pages at the end of the month on Tapas, Webtoons, and my website. (Patreon gets weekly updates.) It is a story of a picturesque town with a dark secret and what will be done to keep that secret. I follow a few characters through the the twisting plot and show how the darker side of this town affects them. I think this would be PG13 mostly because there will be some blood, but there are no sexual situations. Currently Tapas has the most recent free pages as I will have to do Webtoon and the website manually later today. Happy reading and please do let me know what you think! <3 Website: https://www.iamfilledwithstatic.com/crocus Tapas: https://tapas.io/series/crocusheights Webtoon: https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/the-secret-of-crocus-heights/list?title_no=405820 Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/iamfilledwithstatic

DanielHookerArt

I have a series of self published graphic novels. When all copies of the first volume sold out I posted it on Webtoon. It's sort of a Isekai Mystery Adventure, inspired by the 1980's movie Labyrinth.

https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/line-of-ruin/list?title_no=232705

StickFreeks

Hi I'm Christy! I make the webcomic / graphic novel series EXTRA! It's about Extras in the backgrounds of a movie world escaping their fates of getting killed off... by going to go ask the Producer to stop killing them off. (Sort of like The Truman Show, but everyone is in on it.) You can read it at https://extra-comic.com/ I'm always looking to make new comic buddies! (edited)

Annausagi2

Hello! I joined right at the announcement of the channel shutting down, so bad timing. :,O I've been working on my webcomic Helix since 2012: Read from the start here: http://helixcomic.com/ Description/warnings: A street rat is given a second chance when he is dragged from the gutter and into a new life. Will he accept his position at the side of royalty, or fight every step of the way? -Rated M for sex (M/M, consensual), violence, nudity, language, and dark themes.- Warnings: -References to child abuse and sexual abuse.- If you can handle these subjects, I hope you'll enjoy the comic. :) Thanks for reading! UPDATES EVERY WEDNESDAY! ~ Support me on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Annausagi2 ~ Join us on Twitter: https://twitter.com/Annausagi2

Kalli

I joined right when things were shutting down too :( Just my luck Anyway! I'm Kalli and I have a fully traditionally drawn webcomic, called World of Ruan! https://www.worldofruan.com/ It's a post apocalyptic, sci fi adventure type story, following Cait, a mutant mouse/human hybrid and Roxy, her robot companion! I update every Saturday~ And I'm always down for meeting new comic friends!

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I make Children of Shadow: Ashes and Dark Wings: Eryl. Ashes is an urban fantasy / horror about teens with supernatural powers who have to team up with woodland critters to save the world from twisted monsters. It’s rated PG-13 and has mild language, graphic violence, and intense scenes. Eryl is a dark high fantasy about a fallen angel, a woman on a journey to find a dragon, and a wyvern who has been kidnapped. It’s rated 16+ and contains strong language, nonsexual nudity, and graphic violence. https://twitter.com/kickyourwrasse/status/1277315129793826816?s=21

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

Only In Your Dreams! is a rom-com Drama comic featuring shoujo and future LGBT+ elements. Also a mainly BIPOC cast! Rated: PG16+ There are some suggestive language & content, and partial nudity. “Cara Luong is tired of her failed dating attempts and settles for Richie, her imaginary lover every night in her sleep. When given a chance to meet him in person for the first time, she suddenly forgets their long-term romance! Now it’s up to Cara to decide if Richie can live as a real boyfriend. That is, if she wants him to exist in the first place!” What it contains: - Dumbassery moments between a dreamer and a dream boi - Expressions that you can feel it in your soul - Main romantic interest participating in healthy masculinity and embracing femmine traits - horror elements in a romance comic? huh-- - Himbo appreciation - A mixed-Black Vietnamese protag for this romantic rollercoaster lol If you're looking something self indulgent, read it why don't you? I release pages early on patreon! https://www.patreon.com/tuyetnhip Otherwise you can check out the site! It updates once bi-weekly on Wednesdays usually! http://oiydcomic.com/ Tapas: https://tapas.io/series/Only-In-Your-Dreams Webtoon: https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/only-in-your-dreams/list?title_no=115046 Other links: https://linktr.ee/oiydcomic

alizarin

I joined near the end of the server but I can't wait to participate in the reboot! So many interesting comics in here * _ * I make a comic called Patent the Sun, it basically reads like a big puzzle. It's about two characters who wake up without any memory, but slowly we learn about their whole universe and what happened to them. Oh and there's also magic, aliens, murder, and crossdressing https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/patent-the-sun/list?title_no=123560 https://tapas.io/series/Patent-the-Sun(edited)

Las Pinter

It is a pity that I was not so active here. I create the Tales From Somewhere comics, currently there are two of them: The Legend and The Secret. Both of them are high fantasy stories taking place in a fantasy world. The Legend is about three adventurers trying to survive in their realm. They are aware of being DnD like characters in a cruel world, where the DM wants to kill them as fast as he can... without luck so far. It has some comedy, action, horror and weird elements. This comic is ongoing since a long time, so expect to have big changes in the style and writing. The Secret is about an elf, who begins his journey from the world's end after an apocalyptic event. Accidentally meets a human thief girl, and now they are travelling together and figuring out what is happening to their world. This comic is currently being revamped and the story is continued parallelly. I would rate them R/17+ since they have some blood, violence, profanity and nudity. Website: https://www.talesfromsomewhere.com/ Tapas: - The Legend: https://tapas.io/series/Tales-From-Somewhere-The-Legend - The Secret: https://tapas.io/series/Tales-From-Somewhere-The-Secret Webtoons: - The Legend: https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/tales-from-somewhere-the-legend/list?title_no=77159 - The Secret: https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/tales-from-somewhere-the-secret/list?title_no=78355 And I'm on Twitter: https://twitter.com/thelaspinter

quietsnooze

Radio Silence is an award winning queer coming of age webcomic about a British rock band’s rise to fame. Hitting the road on a journey of self discovery and acceptance, this coming-of-age tale gives a backstage look at friendships and the plights of fame as experienced by a modern British rock band. On the fast track toward fame, the five members of the fictional British rock band, Radio Silence, enter into an exciting new life on the road with their best friends. As they tour across the United Kingdom, they excitedly embrace this new lifestyle and all the resulting challenges, including living in close quarters with each other with little privacy, and the overwhelming reaction of the public to their new-found success. Main site: http://radiosilencecomic.com/ Webtoons: https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/radio-silence/list?title_no=35242 Twitter: http://twitter.com/quietsnooze

Tired Programmer

This is mine. There will be update tomorrow (in 10 hours). https://tapas.io/series/The-story-of-how-humanity-has-thrown-itself-into-the-scrapyard Civilization, technologically advanced in the past, is now in decline. Killer and hacker are trying to survive and find the answers to their questions among the ruins. What will they meet in this crazy and cruel world of misused technologies? WARNING: strong language, violence and nudity. Only for adults.

JUNK

If any creators or readers are looking for another webcomic server to hang out in, you can check out this one: https://discord.gg/qjWJt7

I'll post it in the general channel too. :3

sierrabravo (Hans Vogel is Dead)

I wish we could have had a bit more time, but thanks everyone for creating such a great space for webcomic creators!! I make HANS VOGEL IS DEAD: an antifascist fairy tale with elements of historical fantasy. A German fighter pilot is shot down and killed during the Battle of Britain. When he wakes up in a fairytale afterlife, he learns what the evil he served has destroyed, and must undo the damage of fascism to become a better person. The end of Volume 1 is coming in the next two weeks, and September will be the fifth anniversary! You can read it on Webtoons: https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/hans-vogel-is-dead/list?title_no=62633 and find me on twitter! https://twitter.com/chjorniy_voron

Haruh2 (Colony Life)

This was such a great discord, hopefully we can keep in touch and still chat about comics and such my twitter is : https://twitter.com/Haruh2 Here is my comic Colony Life, ive been working on this for abit and will always love making this comic no matter what https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/colony-life/list?title_no=193784

boniae

I regret that I wasn't more active in here besides occasional lurking, but I always think back fondly to the CTP chat that my comic was discussed in, it was the first time I ever got to see so much in depth feedback and analysis on my comic and I will forever appreciate this server Four Corners is set in 1995, Yokohama, as the story follows Kazuhiro Tsuchiya who now leads his deceased brother's legendary gang, the Four Corners. Kazuhiro is approached by Hideki Yuhara, a schoolmate who claims to have vital information that Kazuhiro should be wary of. The two unlikely delinquents pair up to figure out the reason as to why gangs in the city are being brutally eliminated...though the unraveling of the mystery is darker than it appears. How far will Kazuhiro and Hideki go to rest their case? If you're looking for a slow burn lgbt romance, 90s manga nostalgia, drama, mystery, and a story with a general theme of: misfits who come together against dangerous odds to protect others, especially the ones they love—come check it out! https://tapas.io/series/four-corners/ http://fourcornerscomic.com/ https://twitter.com/boniaeart

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

I'll really miss having a new comic to read every week! My comic is called Super Galaxy Knights Deluxe R. It's a story of a small woman from a small town who goes on adventures across a strange kingdom. Action, comedy, and very, very slow burn romance... http://sgkdr.thecomicseries.com/ https://tapas.io/series/sgkdr https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/super-galaxy-knights-deluxe-r/list?title_no=41795

LeahVillart

I haven't done much work or anything in general these past months because they've been utter shit for me. This year had stuff breaking in my home, my grandma died from covid, family issues, found out my 9yo dog has lymphoma (blood cancer) and I got to a break point and I'm trying to recover from all the shit. Now it's late and I'm tired so I'm gonna make a super sleepy pitching~ I make Teach Me To Kill a horror-comedy webcomic about a school of villains and killers where a new seemingly innocent teacher arrives to help the worst class become the horror legends they are "destined" to become. [IN ENGLISH AND SPANISH] If you like contradicting/opposite genres or themes you'll find it here, violence, blood, kills, but all done with a cute colorful style where nothing is as it seems. With a cast made of crazy humans, detectives, monstergirls and guys like -our sexy looking hybrid vampire Daki who didn't ask for any of the cards she's been dealt and only wants to find true love and not something attracted by her vampiric aura. - Our lil raven kid Nayla who is a sugar bomb ready to explode, but can break a mountain in two. - Kyllian, a boy who's managed to make a personality out of each of his expressions, which sometimes is helpful and others a horrible mistake. - Q.Bee, an innocent looking girl who radiates sensuality in some weird way luring her victims into her trap. You never know what she's thinking or could do at any moment. the cast and world is really huge and don't want to spoil more, but it's filled with slice of life, mystery, action, dark humor, romance, fantasy, paranormal stuff. A total mix. If you give it a read, thanks for doing so and hope you like it! <3 http://teachmetokill.com/(edited)

Comic Tea Party

This concludes our final #creator_babble chat. Thank you so much to all the wonderful creators who have participated in this chat over its existence. It has been great to see your enthusiasm for the craft of webcomics, as well as learn your unique stories of how you pursue it. We are positive these conversations have helped many other creators out, so we appreciate you having them. For this conversation, and all past #creator_babble chats, you’ll be able to find them archived here: https://comicteaparty.com/creatorbabble

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7deadlycinderellas · 4 years

Text

If the summer of our lives could just come again, ch 17

AO3 link

King’s Landing

Robert hasn’t even been dead two days before Joffrey dismisses Ned, and Sansa and him are turned out. The snow has barely had a chance to settle on the ground.

They are given a day to pack their things.

A tiny part of Sansa’s heart is sad. There are fond goodbyes of course, Tommen hugs her as tightly as though he were her own brother.

Tyrion is even more despondent. Joffrey’s selection for his replacement hand is, of course, Tywin Lannister.

“Couldn’t you convince him to send you back to Casterly Rock? I mean, if he dislikes having you around so much…”

“I’m afraid he distrusts me possibly taking control of Casterly Rock more than he dislikes my face.”

Sansa gets lost in thought at that. She’s unsure who even would have ended up warden of the west had the dead stayed dead. She knows there are Lannisters scattered about the whole region, one she’s never heard of likely.

She pauses a bit before her next line.

“Why don’t you ever leave? You’re a clever man, there’s a whole world outside Westeros where no one knows you as Tywin Lannister’s son.”

Tyrion exhales noisily, and sets down his glass.

“No one may now me as that, but the whole world will still take one look at me and see a fool or a toy.”

She thinks her next words over, thoroughly.

“We have a mutual friend,” she tells him, “A friend with a great many legs. One who considers his greatest loyalty to the whole realm. You should ask him about our friend overseas. She needed your help before.”

Tyrion actually looks confused for a moment.

“You got shipped there is a crate before, hiding in disgrace. That might not be necessary. You could sail away a free man.”

Her next words are grim.

“There’s enough horrors to come to Westeros that I would flee if I could.”

Throughout the rest of their goodbye, a sweet ache forms deep in Sansa’s chest.

“I…I’m going to miss you. Promise me something?”

“Anything,” he tells her, his voice nearly breathy. It’s an odd sound coming from him. He was always good at playing things off, but not this.

“If you hear tell of monsters coming from the north, run.”

She reaches into one of her pockets, pulling out the roll of paper she’d scribbled hastily that morning.

“Dragonglass can kill them. Valyrian steel too. There’s a blacksmith in Flea Bottom named Mott, there’s instructions in here, he can follow, but…”

There’s tears pricking at the back of her eyes, and her words are stumbling. It’s not just because if the others reach this far south, it means the north has fallen, fallen so far she can scarcely imagine.

Before Tyrion can react, she reaches out and grasps the fingers of his right hand, raising his knuckles and pressing her lips to each of them in turn, much as he had once before.

The act calms her enough, that when she rises to her feet, her words are more steady.

“You never caught my words for their meaning. My father did, but you didn’t. I said Tysha was your first wife, you never asked me who your second was.”

She turns and leaves, without stopping to look at his face. An errant tear creeps down her cheek. She wipes it off.

Whatever feelings the encounter stirred inside her are pushed down by what happens later that morning.

Sansa and Ned are waiting near where their horses are being packed, when they approached by a flustered looking Brienne and Shireen.

“Have either of you seen Lord Stannis?”

“He left yesterday after supper,” Sansa tells, “To retrieve his men and head for the Wall to aid the Night’s Watch.”

Brienne curses. Sansa’s never heard her do that before, and it shocks her.

“Renly’s rushed off. There’s reports of Ironborn ships attacking Shipbreaker’s Bay. Some of them men have swum ashore and are attempting to lay siege to Storm’s End.”

Sansa is astonished.

“What are they stupid? That could garrison a whole army in that hold, and withstand siege for at least a year. And if the storm’s don’t take it out, raiders certainly can’t!”

She’s heard tell that the Kingsmoot ritual involves drowning the participant for a time. Perhaps that ritual has done a number on their brains.

Brienne shakes her head.

“I know. But Lord Renly didn’t want Shireen anywhere near it, I was going to take her back to her father-”

Ned interrupts,

“They left by ship, there’s no way you’ll catch them in the winter weather, and the Wall is no place for a girl.”

Brienne looks lost for a moment, before Ned continues.

“Come with us. We can put the two of you up in Winterfell for a time. It’s a hard season, but we manage every winter, and we’ll be closer to her father than she is if she stays here. We’ll send a raven a head once we leave.”

He regards Brienne,

“You are the girl’s sworn shield correct?”

Brienne nods, solemn.

“Then you should know that this is likely the safest route we can take.”

And after a time, Brienne agrees.

When her and Ned begin to work out the logistics, Sansa moves and takes Shireen’s hand. The girl is quiet, but her hands are shaking.

This is going to be harder than she imagines.

Winterfell

Blizzards drive them inside.

Northerners can still work in snow, they know the snow, the landscape. But a true blizzard, with thick snow and fog and wind and deep,deep darkness will drive even the most hardy of them cowering for shelter.

It was in one of these deep blizzards that Robb drew up his letters to their bannermen.

Davos had returned some moons before, with a ship full of evacuees and a nightmare.

He has a flashback to something Osha had asked them when they were ferrying the first ship full south.

“Do you have a family, Davos?”

She never called him ser, but he never minded truly.

“A wife and seven sons.”

“And you’re fine with being here with all of this, instead of with them?”

Davos had shaken his head.

“Of course I’m not. I miss all of them every day. But my wife is one of those rare women who is content being by herself, and my eldest is old enough to have his own family. I’m filling a need here, helping these people stay with their own families, and trying to protect my own from afar.”

That had been the first of the four voyages he had made, expertly avoiding the Night Watch partrolled waters, hold full of refugees. He never let them off in the same spot twice. A few he expected, even tried to sail off on their own, into the open sea.

He told them the story of an entire Free Folk coastal settlement completely overrun by the others. How the wights had piled up upon each other until they could climb the walls of the city, with no care that they were getting crushed under each other and just kept coming.

They didn’t have to be told about it. Jojen had woken up screaming that morning, with a vision he couldn’t tell from a nightmare. They weren’t sure if it had been Hardhorne, but it had sounded just like it.

“And we still don’t know what’s become of Jon,” Arya tells him, hugging herself, “He hasn’t been at Castle Black in years.”

“He wasn’t there,” Davos tells her grimly, “If he had been I’d have sought him out. It was chaos, no one leading, no one guiding. I just shoved as many as I could on the ship, thanked every god I could think of that they can’t swim and fled.”

“We’ll start sending weapons to other keeps,” Robb tells him grimly, “Along with orders that every able man, woman and child to be trained in their use. Take some of the free folk with you to help begin the training.”

“Tell them,” Bran adds, “To make up lists. Add the names of anyone too old, young or sick to train.”

“We’ll start planning, see if we can identify safe places to evacuate them to if the wall is breached.”

Bear Island has become a possibility, since Davos has reminded them that the dead do not swim. After the death of Jeor Mormont in the mutiny at the wall, Dacey and Alysane Mormont had come to Winterfell to seek acknowledgement of their mother’s continued rule.

They had met no resistance at this, but when given the same instructions that the Stark’s other sworn house’s had been given about dealing with fleeing wildlings, they had been met with mirth.

“Wildlings used to try to raid our island, “ Dacey had said, “Now even the Iron born know better. We can do what you say, but I don’t any of them are still foolish enough to try fleeing to our little island.”

“You may be surprised,” Robb tells them grimly, “Most of them seem to be fleeing to whatever’s south of where they currently are.”

Arya watches the two of them from the side of the room, wondering if Lyanna would have resembled them when she grew up. She knew both Alysane and Dacey had been killed at the red wedding. Neither them or their mother had husbands, they all swore their children had been sired by bears.

And with a sudden spark, Arya wonders if she could ask one of them if one of these bears had had red hair and a long beard.

The blizzards also stopper news. Even Bran can’t guide his ravens through them. They have no idea what’s occurred in the capital since Robert’s death. This is one of the few times in his second life that Bran has missed the ability to see through the weirwoods.

And with the onset of winter, Arya is suddenly quite grateful for her mother’s insistence that she marry.

She occasionally will grumble will Gendry wraps her in her arms, his head over hers and his legs bracketing hers.

“Why do you always get to be the big spoon?”

“Cause if I let you be the big spoon I’ll end up missing a limb one of these mornings.”

Her childhood bed is slightly too small for the two of them, but in winter the crowding is welcome.

One morning, when they rise, Gendry spies a fairly dark mark she’d left on his shoulder the night before. It’s not the first- a few weeks prior Robb had leaned in close to examine a pink love bite on his neck, and then backed away, horrified, when he’d recognized it for what it was, but something about it niggles at him.

“I think you can see teeth here…Something bothering you?”

At her bewildered look he clarified,

“I know they call you a she-wolf, but your teeth don’t usually come out unless you’re upset or scared.”

In the old days, so long ago it seemed, she had put up a tough facade, but then melted atop of him. It had been fun to discover that Arya, who fought so hard to keep her outside cold, loved to be held and kissed gently. But when the dead had kept rising and people had kept dying, her kisses got harder, her hands gripping tighter, often leaving him increasingly black and blue. He hadn’t minded, not particularly, except for what it made him think of her mental state.

She sighs, and moves to kiss the mark, trying to soothe it away.

“I didn’t realize that having everyone I loved back would leave me even more scared of losing them again.”

Gendry throws an arm across her back, running his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck.

“What was that thing in High Valyrian? That thing that weird red and white haired fucker said when he got us out of Harrenhal?”

Arya laughs, “Valar Morghulis. All men must die.”

“Seems a bit morbid to me, but that’s the point I guess. We’re all going to have to die eventually. But you have us all here again.”

Arya’s face looks unconvinced, but she steps back to pull off her shift and begins dressing without another word.

When the blizzard finally passes, everyone in Winterfell has gone stir crazy. Enough for even Gendry to ask to join some of the others to go with Meera and Jojen to go forage for mushrooms.

It’s a bright clear day, and the sun is high in the sky when they’re turning over logs and digging out tree trunks to look for growths to examine and see if they looked edible.

Gendry had never known there were so many kinds of mushrooms, looking through his sack at all the different sizes and shapes. Though, he thinks as Jojen finds a small, spotted one, looks at it and shakes his head, he never really realized how deadly the wrong ones could be either. It wasn’t something that ever came up in King’s Landing, and when on the road, it had never occurred to him to even bother with mushrooms.

They’ve all been out maybe an hour, when Jojen stops suddenly.

When he falls over into the snow, it’s Arya who reaches him first. She rolls him over, runs a hand over his mouth and nose, and then under his chin.

“He’s breathing,” she assures Meera. The other girl’s face has gone ashen, and she’s standing stiff, pulled tight like a lute’s string.

“Rickon, run back to the keep, have them bring Maester Luwin down to meet us,” she says, in a single breath.

Before Gendry can move, and before Rickon’s even out of sight, she moves and grabs Jojen under his arms,

“Gendry, help me,”

He finally snaps out of his haze, and goes to help, and between the three of them, they manage to life Jojen, who remains motionless. He’s not too heavy, but he’s long, and his boots make his feet harder to handle.

It takes doing, but they weren’t too far out, so they get back to Winterfell quickly enough. When the guards Rickon has alerted come out and take Jojen from the three of them, Gendry feels his muscles burn as they go slack.

Arya grabs his hand quietly as they step aside. Meera stands at the end where they had dropped him and she looks frozen to her spot, and like she might fall over herself.

Bran hadn’t gone with them, for obvious reasons, but having been drawn out of the keep by the ruckus, he awkwardly makes his way to join them.

He approaches Meera quietly, and when he reaches out to gingerly touches her hands, she heaves and presses her face into his neck.

Gendry feels Arya pull his hand, and whisper, “leave them be.”

Her voice when she speaks again is incensed, but her face has that same faraway look it had the morning he’d questioned her biting him.

“Jojen better be pretty sick if he scared us that bad,”

“Are you going to yell at him when he wakes up,”

She shakes his head,

“I’m going to set Mother on him.”

The next time they see Jojen is the next day when Meera goes to bring him his supper. Maester Luwin tells them he has a fever and a bad chest infection, and shouldn’t have gone outside. He plies him with ointments to ease the cough he wakes with and makes him a tea to help the fever.

He also still looks suitably terrified by whatever it was Lady Catelyn said to him.

It’s a few weeks later, when Gendry’s by himself in the forge, when Jojen asks if he can come in and sit for a while.

Even this long after, his cough is lingering, so Gendry tells him,

“Sure, but you should stay by the door away from the smoke.”

He sits quietly for a while, reading a book he’s brought with him.

“You’re from the capital right?”

Gendry nods, “Grew up in Flea Bottom, Biggest slum in the whole place.”

“Someplace with that many people, is there anywhere you would go if you got sick?”

Gendry laughs wryly.

“Barely. If you were lucky you might know an old woman who knew about healing or someone at a tavern who was used to sewing up brawl wounds. Mostly if you got sick enough you just died.”

Jojen’s face at this point looks an awful lot like what Arya’s occasionally has.

“After Lady Catelyn scolded me…throughly, I asked her how the maesters learned all they did about helping the sick.”

He’s never met one before Luwin, but even Gendry knew about the citadel. He also knows that no maester would bother himself with the problems of the common folk.

“It’s a big undertaking,” Gendry says, “You basically have to give up your whole life to become one.”

“And that’s stupid,” Jojen replies, forcefully, “Why should they keep all the knowledge just for themselves? People get sick everywhere. Lords have to pay to receive one at their castles, that’s why we don’t have one at Greywater Watch.”

He’s quiet for a bit longer, then admits.

“It didn’t surprise me at all when Meera told me I died young. I always thought I would. In the swamp, it’s much the same. You get sick enough and you just die.”

Gendry thinks long on his next words, before saying.

“Valar Morghulis,”

Jojen nods, having learned enough High Valyrian to know the saying.

“Sounds like an excuse if you ask me.”

Over the Wall

The boy is walking steadily, pointing and babbling when Gilly finally decides on a name for him.

Jon had told her about his friends at Castle Black, and she had liked the sound of the name Aemon. It makes Jon’s heart twinge, wondering if one of his only remaining relatives was still living, but happy to know he would be remembered if not.

“It’s not so bad,” she tells him, “Lots of us don’t name our babes until they walk. They die too easily when they’re small.”

The cave really isn’t a good place for a young child, but it’s safer than above ground. And when Aemon begins to talk, he begins to whisper the same words Jon does.

These are the words Rowan has begun teaching him. Maester Luwin had taught all of the Stark children High Valyrian, but Jon doesn’t believe it ever sounded like this coming from him. He recalls his words sounded stiff, practiced. Luwin had waved them all on, saying that reading it was more important. The words the trees speak are different. It’s like they speak in all the senses.

Ygritte had listened to them one day, and said they didn’t even sound like words.

“Almost sounds like you’re singing.”

Sometimes Jon sits and listens to the wind outside the caves, blowing through the trees that dot the hillside. Singing seems an appropriate word, he hopes that what he sounds like.

Gilly and the other’s don’t always make it back for supper, their map-making taking time, though their paths through the caves are unobstructed. Sometimes Ygritte leaves and hunts something to roast. The moss Rowan seems to favor doesn’t seem to do much to bolster a human’s strength. She dries some, and sends them with Henneh and Petra, Gilly’s youngest sisters. When she gives it to them, sometimes they’re gone overnight.

Jon still feels overwhelmed, and one day, he finally asks Rowan,

“So, what’s the endgame for this? What is it all for?”

Rowan looks contemplative, and reaches out to touch his hands.

“What brought you over the wall Jon Snow?”

He is confused,

“Duty? Following my commander’s lead?”

Rowan smiles, almost amused.

“Why specifically?”

Jon pauses for a long time.

“We were hoping to find my uncle Benjen and the other rangers who’d gone missing. And to find out why the wildlings were fleeing their villages.”

Rowan nods. She reaches out and touches the root of the dead tree.

“All of the trees speak the same language, and they all speak to one another. Perhaps you could ask them if they had seen your uncle?”

The question should be bizarre, but it’s become almost normal.

“This one’s dead, will it be able to answer?”

Rowan shakes her head.

“But I can take you to one that will.”

The journey isn’t far, it’s down one of the close caverns Gilly has already mapped. The little weirwood is barely larger than the one Rowan had rooted, maybe a few years. Its trunk is skinny, and it’s only maybe ten or twelve feet tall.

When he realizes he must look apprehensive, Rowan touches him.

“Go ahead. It’s not a person, it can’t take offense.”

Jon’s words whisper his memories of his uncle. His height, build, his long hair. Who his parents were, his siblings. These words become his image, his voice giving shape to his very self.

Jon is so shocked when the tree responds he nearly falls over. Listening he finds, is easier than speaking. Maybe it always was.

He doesn’t see it, not really, not in the way he’d heard Bran speak of his visions. It’s like he was there, and he’s remembering it.

He remembers seeing Benjen being surrounded by the others. He recognizes their piercing blue eyes without a word. He remembers them pierce his heart. He remembers him fleeing, beginning to turn blue himself. He remembers Rowan, as clear as she is standing beside him right now. He remembers seeing her take him by the hand, to one of her caves.

When Jon pulls himself out, he asks her,

“He’s still alive.”

“For want of a better word. He is not whole, but he is still himself.”

Jon feels a weight lift off his chest as the two of them make their way back to the main cave.

They make more journeys out to the weirwood, sometimes day after day in a row, when Rowan feels Jon needs to work on his speech, or she remembers something she feels he needs to see more than others.

He spies Gilly and the others carrying rough crosses.

“Iron and dragonglass,” Rowan acknowledges, “I buried one far north. They are doing the same south towards the wall. If we get them in the ground before they manage to breach it, then they shouldn’t be able to keep rising. The long dead should stay down.”

Before? Jon thinks, more than a little alarmed.

One night, he returns from his lessons to only a fire and Ygritte.

“No one else back yet?”

Ygritte shakes her head. She’s holding a sword.

Jon feels the back of his neck prickling.

“Where’d you find that?”

“One of these caverns. Rowan said it belonged to the tree-man who lived here before. More fun than the axe.”

Brynden Rivers, Jon recalls, is what she had said was the original name of the man who became the Three-Eyed Raven. A bastard, just like him.

He goes to take a look at the handle, and something about the blade catches his eye.

“May I?”

She shrugs.

The weight gives it up.

“This is Valyrian steel,” he tells her, astonished, “Like Longclaw. There’s less than a dozen of these left in Westeros.”

“So a good find?”

He recalls his siblings telling him to hold tightly to Longclaw, because it could destroy Others.

“Hold onto this,” he tells her, passing the sword back. She raises an eyebrow.

“Sure I’m not going to lob any important bits off in your sleep now?”

He laughs.

“You would have done it by now if you were.”

Maybe it’s the peace of the moment, or the joy of finding the sword, or maybe it’s the firelight catching her hair.

“Can I kiss you?”

Ygritte’s face turns contemptuous. He can feel the mocking in her words before they even start. Whatever despair her memories had brought to her, there is no sign of.

“All these years throwing myself at you and all you’re going to do is kiss me?”

He snorts.

“I know nothing remember, I have to learn.”

And before she can get in a retort, he leans over and follows through.

He kisses quite a lot of her that night, and though she isn’t quiet the whole time, none of her words are complaints.

#game of thrones #A Song of Ice and Fire #gendrya #sanrion #jongritte #breera #time travel fix it #fic

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beneaththetangles · 4 years

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The Promised (Never)land: a Thrilling Plan of Salvation

I’m happy to introduce Gaharet, our newest writer! You may have seen him haunting our comment section, but now you’ll see much more of him and insight on Beneath the Tangles. The eldest of ten siblings who are all avid readers, Gaheret is a is a Catholic lawyer from Spain, too tall for Robin already but not serious enough for Batman yet. Interested in heroism, wonder, hope and Christ, he looks for them from the realms of Philosophy and Theology to the Arthurian cycle, Dostoyevski, and comics. He discovered anime after University much to his joy, mostly through Beneath the Tangles. Besides here, you can also find him writing on his website (in Spanish).

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A happy childhood in a household by the countryside. A somewhat separated world. Loving parents, being the eldest of many siblings, new ones joyfully looked forward to and then received into the family where we watched them grow, good grades in class, a lot of books, small adventures exploring the forest not far from the house, and interesting conversations about people, deductions and discoveries, the past and the future with other kids as the sun sets. And then, as adulthood is approaching, the horror: the monsters. The parallels and coincidences are many, so it´s no wonder that I saw a lot of myself as a kid in the special children of The Promised Neverland (2019), a clever thriller with no less clever child protagonists dealing with themes of horror, family, love, and survival. My ordinary life back then had a lot in common with that of Emma, Norman, and Ray. That may be what has helped me to see, step by step, that my current life is not too removed from it either.

I´m pretty sure I’ve never enjoyed an anime as much as this one: it has so much in it of the shows I enjoy most, from the strong feeling of place in Haibane Renmei to the childhood/adulthood themes of Erased to the moral clarity in convoluted circumstances and hope against all hope of Now and then, here and there. But more than that, as I was watching it and meditating about the themes, I found so many parallels to my Catholic faith and my own life with God from childhood on that I can say it helped me to look at it with fresh eyes in a way few works of fiction, anime or not, have. It works perfectly without adding the considerations I´m gonna make, as a thriller epic. I´m not a manga reader, so please refrain from spoilers in the comments: also, I´m going to freely discuss the twists and turns of the first season (not to mention my own life): spoilers ahead.

I hope my first paragraph has managed to capture a glimpse of the powerful and Edenic attraction of that place, the House, an orphanage of sorts where sons and daughters live and grow as siblings, as there is usually something Edenic in a childhood with loving parents. The story conveys it in various ways, and maybe the most striking is the color symbology: From the opening, The Promised Neverland uses white and red to symbolize innocence and blood, so even the white clothes are reminiscent of the original nakedness of Genesis, which evokes the same idea. A world arising from unconditional love and deep union, image of the union of the Holy Trinity, worth exploring, powerful and stable, for us to grow with others and develop our unique talents while hoping for a future of wonders unseen.

And yet, something feels off. There are books, symbols, and pieces of the past here and there, and they point to something that has been lost. Some things are missing; some have changed. I believe this is a universal experience: Even as children, we tend to know there is a gap between the law we discover in our hearts and some aspects of reality, even if we don´t mind at first. Growing in a mostly post-Christian Spain was the specific form this uncanny feeling took in my case. The Cathedral of Leon is full of light and color much like the Temple of the Bible, but why was it almost empty, while the Temple was full of pilgrims? How come that so few people knew about Christian wisdom outside of my family and the books, while almost everyone in, say, a Dickens novel knew about Grace and Providence? And then the day comes when you meet face to face with something powerful and dark, and discover with shock and utter horror that there is something in this world, close to you, that could devour and destroy you and those you love.

Monsters who devour children are the primal symbol of evil in children tales, and one cannot but feel a primal fear seeing them. While the models of the monsters are predators in Nature, I believe that much like Christ warns us to be afraid not of those that kill the body, but of those who kill the soul, every fear, even physical, is an echo of the true fear that monsters symbolize: being destroyed by turning myself into a monster voluntarily, and for it to happen to the people I know and love. Sin, after all, is the worst of evils and the source of all the rest. To discover in your own darkness and that of others that this is a very real possibility, and to see the immense power of that darkness both in yourself and in the world with its “prince,” is a shocking experience. For me, a first shock was the sudden loss of faith of my entire class at school when we turned twelve (funnily enough). Suddenly they left God behind without a second thought, as if he were Santa, and all at once started behaving in ways I knew to be seriously wrong. The second was the dark and disturbing reality of my own sins. Even the good things, while remaining good, are tainted and compromised as you become more aware. The sins of the people we had previously trusted and the suffering and the death of the innocent in this world are perhaps the strongest signs of this reality. Norman and Emma suffer both at once.

Much as when Adam and Eve hide after the Fall and make excuses, or Cain suddenly fears a world of murderers even if he is the first, the worldly logic created by sin sucks us into it through our wounds and the wounds of the world. The passions, the animal wants and fears, have become disordered as a result. Even psychologically, when confronted with these signs of evil, we tend to lose hope in the goodness of the world. There is nothing more natural than than trying to survive at all costs, even disregarding others, and thus Norman first did as much. It feels like this is just what the world is. Other possible reactions are forgetting about that, go along with the crowd, and trying to live a superficial life, focusing on developing your abilities so as to remake your world, or a part of it at your own image (I´m looking at you, Ray, and to Lelouch Lamperouge), or build an armor and retreat into something not so far from the infamous eight-grade syndrome, as I myself did with the likes of Hikigaya Hachiman, or focus on recreating, Utena-like, the external circumstances of the time when we were happy, or running for just one bit of power, satisfaction, or pleasure that seems to be within our reach, becoming increasingly cynical about everything else. So, when Emma rejected all that and said, “I don´t want anybody else of my precious family to die!” instead, I felt a true bolt of hope. It strongly resonated with me, and here´s why.

A thrilling plan of salvation in the everyday world, born from a love strong and pure enough not to exclude anyone, humble, down-to-Earth, clever, difficult and wise but also full of simplicity and open to all (for everyone has a role in it), motivated by the desire to save, for everyone to live—does that sound familiar? “I don´t want anybody else of my precious family to die!” For me, it´s kind of an echo both of the “so that you may live” of the Deuteronomy, and the “I have come that they may have life” of Our Lord. To give us life, not a few or even many years more, but a new kind of life which destroys death for us and others. To save us. Of course, as a Christian, I knew and I prayed that people would be saved, and tried to help, to spread the Gospel, to live in charity. But perhaps my heart hadn´t felt with such intensity and hope that He really wants us, each of us, to live, to escape sin and eternal death, to be with Him, to bring us to a better house, a better land which we know a little because it resembles the first. Or more accurately, because the first resembles it: the first Jerusalem and the new Jerusalem. He cares about the rest of our sorrows, our needs and our hurts, and helps, as He did in Palestine, but he wants the endgame: We are under the shadow of death, and he wants us to live.

And how does he attract us to this plan? He promises us a new land; he promised it to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, to Moses and the Israelites, to the prophets and the exiled and to David, to Our Lady and to Joseph, to the Apostles. It had everything they could dream of and more: It had Him. He promised the patriarchs a people which will be theirs and without number, to Moses a free land in which to live in justice, to the prophets a Messiah and a new kind of kingdom, to David the eternity of his house, and to the Apostles that they would become fishers of men. He also gave them signs of hope, among them the deliverance from various sufferings and the earthly land of Israel. Much like this, Emma and Norman guide the rest to the Promised Neverland, and Emma´s love and their own past becomes a sign of hope for how they will live there. As all those who were called by the Lord, something has to be left behind, and the road forward is full of danger and uncertainty. The “follow me, and I´ll show you something cool” also felt hopeful, and very similar to the “come and you will see” of the Gospel: Reject the story of revenge and death you have thought for yourself, become a sibling for a lot of brothers and sisters, help and be helped in the way to the Promised Land. Or leave the things you deem riches and come for something new: I call you; follow me. It has always been the same for me: God has convinced me again and again that there is something incredible at the other side, something that includes me, Him, and His precious family, and all which is good, yet goes deeper than I can perceive now. Even as I stray, sin, and fall again and again, I continue to turn back to Him, because, like Peter, I know somehow that only Christ has words of eternal life.

The fact that some people we love are revealed to be servants of the enemy, yet they are included in the plan, and how both Mama and Sister are saved, was easily what made the show jump from really good to great, as the thorough defeat of utilitarian logic by a logic which doesn´t lose any of its cleverness or its strength, but gives them its true meaning instead. Ray and Norman were similar, but Norman was converted to love by his love of Emma. The way this loving, hard hope is gradually given to everyone as a call to serve the rest, come to be part of the sometimes mysterious plan under the authority of the elders and give the best of your peculiar abilities was very like the Church, and the mutual love of Emma and Norman, innocent and childlike as it was, recalled the words of St. Paul about marriage being similar to how Christ sacrifices Himself for the Church. A child is a great symbol of how we are to be before God, and these children are as innocent as doves and as shrewd as serpents. Trumping the logic of the world of adults, demons, utilitarianism, and Ray, and freeing the villains from it, was a great thing to see. How they become a sign for each other, loving everyone, yet being prudent and humble about what they can do (Emma´s decision towards the smaller ones) made me want to be stronger, wiser, and more loving myself, which I think it´s the very purpose of epic stories.

The Christlike sacrifice of Norman for the sake of Emma, the rest and especially Ray, to bring him out of the pit of darkness he got himself into, and the Shawshank Redemption way it is presented—darkness, violence, death of the beloved and the innocent, everything seems lost, then we discover it was all part of the plan—makes it even more compelling and more parallel with the Gospel: Is the same thing the Disciples experienced in the Passion, what Joseph and Mary didn’t understand at the Temple, and what we don´t understand every time we meet the Cross. Suffering is a mystery, and the plenitude of suffering, the biggest mystery. And yet, beyond our understanding, Christ has met us there and is fighting for us. The loving yet decisive goodbye of Emma to the House and to Mama was also memorable and unique: She truly has rejected hate and embraced all the good there was in the house, even when following the hopeful path and leaving. Jesus loved the Temple, even if it needed to be set of fire, and Israel. Is easy to hate those who harm us, the enemy, a natural impulse: We forget the menacing Mama is a wounded child too, one of the family, another lost sheep. But as Christians, we know Christ sees them also as the lost sheep, and fights for them too. Even during the Passion, He is praying for the last one of His executioners, working for their salvation. At His last moments, he fights for the soul of those crucified with Him. And Mama, at least, is converted.

The post-death Norman (whatever it may happen in the future) who walked for a moment at the side of Ray and Emma, made them feel his presence, caused them to remember his words, and disappeared again behaved very much like Christ does now (only He is alive and acts). Ray, redeemed from his path of revenge, letting go the sword, strengthening others as he was, and occupying his place with his limitations, is much like Simon Peter. He is the father of the orphaned flock, and Emma is the mother, as Mary, and like her she is the closer friend of Norman, and they walk with his spirit to the Promised Neverland. The family is divided in two, as Israel from the Church, yet will be united, as St. Paul tells us with passionate love. And the last scene, “This is our first day,” with the sun coming up in a world without our old certainties, dangerous but hopeful, was very like us experimenting with the fruits of Resurrection: The danger and the new life begins here.

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The Promised Neverland can be streamed on Crunchyroll.

#Anime #Christianity #The Promised Neverland #Yakusoku no Neverland #Articles #Author: Gaharet

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gaasaku-fanfests · 5 years

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Desert Heart [Part I]

Title: Desert Heart Author: keltoi-oak Rating: T Word Count: 17886 Summary: Returning to his homeland in order to face the hardest trials of his life, Gaara encounters a water nymph who proves to be much more than she seems. Warnings: None Author's Note(s): AU/Fantasy. This threatened to turn into a multi-chapter monster, so I was forced to compress it into a three part fic. Managed to incorporate all the prompts. All in all, had a blast writing it. Hope you enjoy!

Prompt chosen: chosen, survival, bells . (all three) Partner: thefreckledone

PART I

The deepest part of his being came alive.

Unrestrained and potent, it was a response he had no control over.

The harsh wind, the scorching sun, the biting feel of the sand as it scraped over every inch of exposed skin. It all triggered something within him that had long lain dormant, a visceral reaction that had his lips curling up in a smile.

Gaara was home.

The long years of wandering the world dissolved, as if time had stood still all along. All the strange and exotic sights he had encountered faded into the background, unable to compete with the view before him. The deep and constant feeling of not belonging ceased, unexpectedly sudden, and was replaced by profound certainty.

The desert made his heart sing and his soul fly.

It was a coming back to himself, a return that made him realize he had been living a half-lived life.

Standing on top of a tall crag, he overlooked the tall and endless dunes before him. As arid as the landscape seemed, its hidden energy thrummed with vitality in his perception, fuelling the exaltation pouring from deep within.

Outsiders might marvel at how people could actually live in what they considered barren land but desert dwellers knew different. Those who inhabited this wondrous realm of sand and rock were aware of the undercurrents of life everywhere. Because of the challenges to survival out here amidst the biting squalls and intense heat, one had to look beyond superficial appearances and discover what lay underneath. Adaptability and an open perspective were essential; inflexibility in one’s way of thinking would lead to death. Instead of standing against the relentless wind, it was best to bend to it and adjust. The dunes themselves personified this principle: grain by grain they shifted with the gales until their massive structures moved to new places.

It was imperative to blend, to flow; only by doing so would the sand and stone reveal their secrets.

Movement flickered out the corner of his eye. Gaara saw a lizard scurrying between boulders, moving with swiftness and ease on the scalding rock. It stopped and flicked its tongue in the air, its senses tuning in to its surroundings as it remained perfectly still. Grey scales glinted in the sunlight a moment later as the reptile squeezed with ease between a stone and a brittle bush, disappearing from view.

A full grin on his lips, Gaara followed the lizard’s example. It was best to take a moment to connect to one’s environment before deciding on a course of action.

He turned towards the open landscape once more and closed his eyes. Letting his inner barriers drop, he allowed his chakra to unfold, free of restraint.

And the entire desert answered.

It began to pulsate in response; the sand, the rocks, the plants, the animals, and even the air. All seemed to stop for a breath only to turn their full attention in his direction. Vibrating as it came into sync with his chakra, the entire desert zoned in on Gaara. It brought with it a barrage of sensations: the thirst of cacti roots, the slow breath of slumbering jack rabbits, the accumulated heat of the rocks, the flight of sand in the breeze. An overabundance of stimuli flooded him and he felt it all simultaneously.

For someone with lesser training, the response would have been overwhelming. It would be easy to lose one’s self in the consciousness of the surrounding environment, easy to be pulled in completely and forget one’s body and mind. Treating the land with respect was the prudent thing to do.

Instead, Gaara released his chakra even more and drank it all in, allowed the desert to flood his consciousness fully.

How he had missed it.

The energy swept up, surrounded him, pulsated in tandem until it matched the beat of his heart. The rocks vibrated while the sand lifted to dance around him, all in a single rhythm. Gaara spread his awareness as far as it could go, allowing himself free rein for the first time in what seemed an eternity. Indulging, he relished in the sensation of being one with the desert.

It was the welcome he had dreamed of and more. It was a relief to realize that his synergy with the desert had not diminished in the least; as a matter of fact, it seemed enhanced. Every single cell in his body seemed to tap into the vitality of the environs and respond in kind. His long years of chakra training had fine-tuned his powers, allowing him to savour every sensation the desert threw at him. He could now discern the small details within the desert’s awareness, he could latch his focus unto what he chose and filter out the rest if he wanted.

Gaara had come a long way since those childhood days when it was the sand doing it all. He keenly remembered the first time it had cocooned around his body in order to protect him. It had happened spontaneously, with no effort of his part. Years had passed before he realized he could command the sand to do his bidding.

What a wake-up call that moment had been for those who were opposed to his existence.

Annoyance coiled in his solar plexus for a moment at the memory, dampening his enthusiasm somewhat. But it was not long lived. As was its tendency, the desert responded to his mood and a tendril of sand detached itself from the swirls surrounding him only to sweep through his hair in a playful stroke. The irritation evaporated instantly and he reminded himself of who he was now.

The rejected child unable to control his own power was long gone.

In his place stood a man in full command of his abilities, one who had returned to his homeland in order to claim his birth right to rule.

The desert pulsed in agreement.

Smiling once more, Gaara pulled back into himself slowly, allowing his connection with the surrounding landscape to diminish gradually. Opening his eyes, the colours all around him seemed more vibrant than before, his senses keener. He stood there and took in the view a while longer, his eyes sharp and alert for any movement among the dunes.

He knew well the others would have felt his chakra emanation. It was impossible for anyone with any kind of energetic sensibility in the area to remain oblivious to his display. Luckily, Gaara was completely past caring at this point. If the other participants had volunteered for the trials, they had to be aware of the risks. It was only fair he give them fair warning of who they were up against.

After all, the title of Chieftain could only be claimed by one.

Kneeling down, Gaara rummaged through his pack for one of his canteens and took a long drink. It was time to replenish his supply and the desert had provided the information he needed. One of the advantages of being able to commune with the environs was knowing exactly where water could be found. He had tuned into the sound of a trickling stream coming out from under the ground somewhere north-east from where he was standing. It was well-worth exploring not only as a source of water but as a possible encampment. Since he would be living out in the arid wilds for the foreseeable future, it was key to find a base camp where he could return to after the challenges that would begin the following day.

Shouldering his things, Gaara made his way down the crags and headed off at a leisurely pace.

– XXXXXXXX –

Someone had called her name.

Or at least she thought they had. Coming out of the deepest sleep she had ever experienced, Sakura was unsure if it had been a dream voice or if it had actually been someone.

She did not remember ever dreaming, though; and she could not remember when the last time she had encountered another person was. For a moment she remained in drowsy confusion. But it wasn’t long before sleep, that steadfast friend, attempted to pull her back under. She was rather inclined to follow it. Slumber was always so serene, so peaceful; it demanded nothing of her. Giving in to her desire, she began to lose consciousness again, dissolving herself once more into oblivion.

But then she felt it again, a vibration that definitely sounded like her name. It was more forceful this time, shaking everything around her, breaking into her sanctuary like if wanting to collapse its hidden structure. The echo of her name was lost as the tremors increased in intensity, until the only thing she could perceive was the quaking.

It was impossible to go back to sleep.

As disorientated as she was, it took a moment to stretch her consciousness but eventually she managed to come into full awareness. She took in the pool where she slept, felt the air of the cool underground grotto that was her haven. There was no differentiating where the water began and she ended, so she made an effort to pull into herself. As she did so, she realized the tremors were coming from the life-energy of her surroundings; it was responding to something. Never had she felt the environs react in such a way… or at least, she could not remember if she ever had. Finally extracting her consciousness from that of the water, she floated within the pool, a nearly translucent silhouette of a woman.

Focusing, she listened, trying to figure out what was happening.

In that moment, she realized the water was singing. That was what had woken her up. It had called out her name in invitation, willing her back to consciousness so she could partake in whatever was happening. The joy emanating from the water became almost tangible and to her attuned senses, Sakura felt it permeate throughout her entire frame. She allowed the water’s delight to flood her and she found herself smiling.

Now that she was awake, it did not allow her to remain still. The current that constantly passed through the pool increased its flow, pulling Sakura with it. She allowed herself to be tugged along, rising and rising through the earth until she reached the surface. Pouring out of a cavity at the base of a large stone, she came out with the water into daylight.

She blinked, her eyesight taking a moment to adjust after being immersed in darkness and sleep for so long. The water carried her forward, cascading down a few rocks only to fall into an open pool.

Once her eyes cleared, Sakura lifted her head above the water and had a look around. Tall stones in the shape of a crescent moon surrounded the pool; this provided enough shadow throughout the day for a pond to form. Along the rocks, bushes, cacti, and succulents grew in abundance. There was a desert willow to one side, cradled in stone. Her heart lifted at the display, as tuned into the plant life as the water she lived in.

The sand was never far away, though. It came right up to the water. The space between the rocks left by their crescent shape offered an unimpeded view of the vast desert surrounding the small refuge. Gathering the water beneath her, Sakura lifted herself into the air in order to get a better view. Once she was above the upper level of the rocks, the sweeping landscape flooded her senses: it was all so grand, from the high crags to the widespread dunes to the endless sky.

From one moment to the next, the experience became too much. The environs pulled at her with so much intensity, she could not help but recoil reflexively.

Sakura willed the water to lower her quickly, not stopping when she reached its surface. She kept sinking, down and down, until she reached the bottom of the pool. There she remained for long moments, gathering herself. The feel of the water all around her soothed her, calmed her overloaded senses. She could not remember when the last time she had been exposed to the vastness had been. It made her feel uncertain and only triggered the impulse to retreat all the more. In her view, it was best to remain safe within the water’s haven.

Having taken in the landscape as she had, she had not been able to pinpoint the source of the water’s joy. The vibrations had diminished significantly; there was only a soft echo of its song within the pool now. Whatever it was that had happened, it seemed to be over.

Thanking the water for sharing its delight with her, even if only for a while, Sakura made her way upstream. She went up the small cascade and proceeded towards the small hollow where the water came out to the surface. Merging with it, she attempted to follow it back into the opening and return to her underground sanctuary. Sleep, her loyal friend, was waiting.

But her intentions were thwarted.

The water, it seemed, did not want her to go back.

She tried to force herself into the hollow again; did it once more and several times after that. But the current simply increased its flow, frustrating every single one of her attempts. When Sakura thought she had finally managed to return underground, the water practically spat her out.

‘What is going on?’ she thought, perplexed at the water’s behaviour.

It was necessary to change tactics. If at the moment there was no way to go back down, she might as well sleep out here. Flowing with the cascading stream, she returned to the pool and sank to the bottom once more. Curling into her preferred position, Sakura made herself comfortable and prepared to doze off.

But, to her utter surprise, sleep evaded her. A couple of hours later, she was still wide awake.

‘Now this is truly bizarre,’ she thought.

She floated in the middle of the pool, crossing her arms in front of her as she tried to make sense of the day’s events. There was no doubt something very strange was occurring. She blended her consciousness with the water but all she could pick up on was the lingering song and the prickle of excitement that had come along with it. The pool was happy; this was as much as Sakura could discern.

Shrugging, she moved to float on her back, looking up at the sky from beneath the surface. It was changing colour now, blue blending into bright orange and magenta with the setting of the sun. It was a beautiful sight and Sakura let herself enjoy it from the safety of the water.

A while later, her reverie was brought to an end when a loud thud resounded from up above. Something very heavy had just dropped unto the sand.

She became completely alert, remaining very still. A few moments later, a face peered over the edge of the water and looked down into its depths.

‘A man,’ she thought, surprised. Instantly curious, she willed herself into transparency and rose slowly to get a closer look.

His hair was crimson, a colour that rivalled the deep reds of sunset. The vibrant jade of his eyes she instantly related to a rare hue the water would sometimes assume. There were dark rings around them, though, making him look slightly tired. There was stubble on his cheeks, giving him a dashing look of desert wanderer.

Sakura found herself smiling up at him, taken in by the myriad details of his face. Knowing she was invisible, she allowed herself to stare as much as she liked.

He leaned closer and ducked his head into the pool. With his hands he washed his face and pulled out for a breath. After a moment he went under again, this time rubbing his scalp and getting the water into his hair. He repeated the process several times until he seemed satisfied. He shook his head to get rid of the excess water before leaning down to take a long drink.

Sakura rose nearer to the surface so she could see him better.

By then he was sitting back on his haunches, breathing deeply, a contemplative look on his handsome face. Lifting a hand through his damp hair, he pulled it back. She caught a glimpse of a tattoo, as red as his hair, on his forehead. From beneath the water, she could not make it out clearly. She was about to risk floating at the very surface to catch a better glimpse when he moved once more.

He ducked his head beneath the pool again but this time he leaned in deeper. Once under the surface, he opened his brilliant jade eyes.

And looked straight at her.

– XXXXXXXX –

He knew he wasn’t imagining things.

There was a woman in the water. She just wasn’t what one would expect.

Gaara pulled his head out of the pool and took a deep breath. Any visitor not tuned in to the subtle energies of the sheltered oasis would have missed her entirely. Her form blended perfectly with the water, utterly translucent. Lucky for him, he always made it a point to notice things beyond the apparent. Certain things had given her away.

Like the quality of the lush succulents and cacti growing all around the rocks. He noticed them the instant he stepped into the shelter of the stones. They were quite common throughout the desert but not in clusters of such great sizes. They were positively thriving here, radiating life-energy in sparks. Not to mention the flourishing brittle bushes and the tree cradled in the stone’s embrace. Although plant life would always gravitate towards water sources, the growth around this particular pool was something out of the ordinary.

The clearness of the water was another detail that did not escape him. Oases in the desert tended to be rather murky; it was inevitable with all the sediments coming up from under the earth as well as those brought by the constant wind. For a pool to retain such pristine clarity meant there were extraordinary forces at work.

So Gaara released his chakra subtly, tuning into the energies of the secluded pool and had approached the water with respect. It never did any good to garner the wrath of a djinn or a deva.

But what swam up to greet him was something else entirely.

“Water nymph,” he spoke, looking into the pool, “come to scrutinize the human, have you?”

No answer came.

“Don’t play shy, I can clearly see you down there.”

There was movement in the water and he realized she was sinking slowly towards the bottom.

He chuckled. “Well, well, quite the timid nymph you are. And here I was thinking you were planning to charm me into the depths in order to ravish my body before drowning me.”

A keen silence followed. But then the water splattered at the surface and he could see the silhouette of her head as it emerged.

“I was not!” came the indignant reply.

“Isn’t that what nymphs do?” Gaara asked, realizing he could make out her features a lot more clearly outside the water. His chakra allowed him to discern the traits of her face but he knew she would appear completely transparent to anyone else.

“No!” she exclaimed, clearly vexed.

Her eyes were large and expressive but he could not pinpoint just what colour they were yet. Her hair, much to his astonishment, was a soft pink. For a moment he thought his chakra-enhanced senses were playing a trick on him. But no, her short wet tresses reached her chin and their vibrant colour seemed to leap out at him.

“Or well, at least I don’t,” she added after a moment.

This statement was spoken with a certain degree of confusion. It made Gaara pause. He was rather certain of what she was, her chakra as a nature spirit vibrated quite clearly. Not only that but her face was exquisite, a vital trait of a nymph. And although it was partly hidden within the water, he was certain her body possessed the curves to lure any victim willingly into the depths.

He pinned her with an incredulous stare. “So you’re saying you’re a well-mannered nymph?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe I am,” she replied, rising even more above the surface. She crossed her arms over her chest and half-turned her back on him.

Her movement allowed him the glimpse he had been anticipating. Yes, the alluring curves were there alright. There was no going around it, she was nymph through and through.

His body sang praises at the sight but his mind was not so easily fooled. Nymphs were sly and crafty; they knew very well how to use their cache of tricks in order to get what they wanted. Caution was always advised when dealing with her kind.

Yet now that he was convinced of what she was, Gaara gave in to the impulse of pulling her strings. From her responses, it was easy to tell there was a temper underneath her watery yet beautiful exterior.

“I apologize, then, for jumping to conclusions,” he offered with irony. “I’ve never heard of a water nymph who showed consideration for her visitors instead of stripping them bare, seducing them, and-“

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” she interrupted snappishly. “Besides, I’m not…”

Her words trickled away before she finished her sentence, her confusion returning.

Gaara looked at her more closely, noticing the shifts in her chakra. It had become suddenly muddled and dimmer, nothing like the sparks she had been eliciting moments before.

“So you’re not interested in me, is that it?” he prodded. “Not good enough for you?”

“I never said that!” she exclaimed, turning towards him fully and dropping her arms.

Gaara forced himself to keep looking at her face or else she would find out just how interesting his own body was finding hers.

The sparks in her chakra were back, though, and he focused on keeping them there. “So you admit I’m to your liking,” he remarked.

“Of all the conceited -” she began but didn’t finish, slapping the water with one of her hands in annoyance.

“I’ll take your lack of answer as a yes. You did, after all, come up to stare at me.”

“That was because you’re the first person I’ve seen in goodness knows how long!” she exclaimed. “Of course I was curious.”

“So just curiosity and not ill intention?” Gaara asked, doubtful.

“What drivel!” she replied sharply. “What would be the point of harming people who come searching for water in this scorching heat? Like if the dangers of the desert weren’t enough, I’m supposed to drown them when they finally find respite. It’s ridiculous!”

She placed her hands on her hips then, glaring at him. Her chakra an outraged swirl, there was no doubt she meant what she said.

He could not help smiling; she really was unlike anyone he had ever encountered.

“I’m sorry, I misjudged,” he told her, meaning it this time. “You are not only well-mannered, you are good-hearted.”

Her anger seemed to lessen, although she still looked at him with distrust.

“I may have made assumptions based on past experiences and of what I know of your kind,” he continued. “But like you said, the desert is full of dangers. Its magic can sometimes be as hazardous as its physical challenges.”

She turned her nose up in the air but nodded, lowering herself back into the water until her chin touched the surface.

“Do I have your permission to replenishment my water supply from your spring?” Gaara asked.

“You do,” she replied, still annoyed but magnanimous.

He nodded, turning round to rummage in his pack. Taking out all of his canteens, he approached the water once more.

Quiet descended over the pool, the trickle of the underground stream as it emerged and cascaded down the rocks the only sound. Out of the corner of his eye, Gaara saw the nymph throwing glances his way but she did not make any attempt to engage him in conversation again.

Since she was allowing him to partake of her pool, he decided to give her space. He did not, after all, want to truly anger her. She was part of the desert and as such, very much deserved his respect. Hence, he went about rinsing his canteens thoroughly before refilling them in silence.

But then he recalled the words she had flung his way, about him being the first person she had seen in a long time. She admitted to being curious. Gaara surmised he would not have to wait long.

His guess was right on target.

Once he was done replenishing his water, he stood up in order to arrange his canteens in his backpack, turning his back on the pool.

“How come you can see me?” she practically blurted out.

He did not turn round as he spoke so she would not see the smile on his face. “Ever since I was born, I’ve always been in tune with the desert. I’ve spent many years of training honing my chakra abilities, something that allows me to commune with the life-energy of the environs even more. It enhances all my senses. I can pick up subtle fluctuations that other people, even those with charka training, cannot.”

“Oh,” she replied. She seemed to mull this over for a moment before her next question. “So you’ve always lived in the desert?”

“I was born here and spent my childhood among the sands,” Gaara said, “but no, I haven’t lived here for a very long time.”

There was movement behind him, the water lapping against the rocks. He turned round to see her leaning forward against a stone at the very edge of the pond, her chin propped up on one of her palms.

Inquisitive indeed.

“Why did you leave?” she asked. “And why have you come back?”

Gaara chuckled. “Alright, curious nymph, let’s make a deal. I’ll appease your curiosity but only if you give me something in return.”

Her eyes narrowed but her interest could not be dampened. “Go on.”

“I ask for only two things. I’ll share my story with you if, first, you allow me to set up camp by your pool,” he said, “and second, you give me your name.”

The smile she gave him was brilliant, illuminating all of her face. Her chakra twinkling like stars in the night. Gaara felt something deep within himself respond; if she had truly harboured ill intentions towards his person, he would have been done for. Eagerly would he have followed her into the water.

He chided himself for being such a numbskull. About to confront the most dangerous challenges of his life, and here he was, reacting to the glamour of a water nymph like if is he were a dazzled teenager. He really had to get his act together.

“I’ll concede the first gladly. You can camp here for as long as you like,” she said. “But the second I’ll grant only if you give me yours in return.”

He moved closer to the edge of the water. Once in front of the stone she was leaning against, he knelt in front of her.

“Gaara,” he told her, bowing.

Retuning the gesture, she replied, “Sakura.”

– XXXXXXXX –

What a peculiar man he was.

Instead of lying down to sleep, he dozed upright with his legs crossed underneath him, like if he were meditating. Sakura was certain he was asleep, his chakra flowing peacefully around his frame as his body replenished its energy.

She would have thought he would drop down and snore the night through, relaxing into oblivion in order to properly rest for what was to come with the dawn. But instead his slumber was controlled, efficient even. It was as if his chakra was providing a steady and constant stream of rejuvenation, distributing it evenly throughout his body.

Her very nature was endowed with the special qualities of healing, hence, Sakura found the way Gaara rested fascinating.

In truth, if she was honest, this was not the only facet of his she found captivating.

Throughout the evening he had regaled her with his story. A tale of conflict and woe from a very young age followed by years of solitude and hardship, only to mutate into an anecdote of self-assertion with hope on the horizon.

He came into the world with the gift to commune with the land where he was born. His chakra and that of the desert were one. A true Heir of the Sands, a legendary title only bestowed upon few in the history of the Wind Clan. But this overwhelming power was something he could not handle as a child and hence, the future his father had envisioned for him evaporated as the years went by. Civil upheaval, family feuds, and irrational fear contrived to create an inverse reality: instead of a hero, Gaara came to be considered a monster.

He was openly shunned since chaos tended to erupt around him. His chakra was too powerful for him to completely command and would react in unpredictable ways. He came to be equated with destruction and was considered a menace. Despite the harsh training he received, Gaara progressed at a snail’s pace. This fell in with the conniving of those who opposed of him: an Heir of the Sands was destined to become Chieftain, chosen by the desert itself. But turmoil within the Clan had created a rift between factions and Gaara, as an innocent child, was caught in the middle.

Unable to understand the political undercurrents of what was happening, he began to lash out in anger. It was then the sand began to do his bidding, making everyone around him scurry to safety whenever they saw him approach. Feeding the discourse of fear was easy then. Words whispered in the right ears, opinions thrown about casually in order to instil discrimination; it was simple for those who did not accept him to spread hate like wildfire.

Things may have remained hostile but manageable had not Gaara’s father perished due to an unexpected illness. Since his mother had died a short time after giving birth to him, Gaara was left with no protection except for his young siblings. They were no match for the ruthlessness of the civil strife erupting around them.

The day his own family turned against him was the day it became too much. Gaara was attacked by his uncle, his mother’s twin brother, the man who had helped raise him and his siblings. Something within his young soul snapped and he found himself walking out of the village. Carrying only the clothes he was wearing, he left and did not look back.

Years passed, filled with a rage and frustration so deep it almost drove him to the edge. He rejected the desert, blaming it for his plight. So he travelled far and wide, finding work where he could, suppressing his chakra through sheer willpower. A true drifter for years until life made him stumble upon something he did not believe possible: friendship. A young man, one who had inherited the powerful chakra of a fox spirit, offered the nomad Gaara shelter from the rain one night at the temple where he lived.

The monks had taken one look at him – unkempt and gaunt yet emanating chakra through his very pores - and never allowed him to leave. No matter how many times he attempted to run away, the fox lad would always be sent to fetch him. Despite being well into his teens when he began, Gaara was subjected to the rigorous chakra training of the monk’s order. The average age of his drill companions was around 10 years old. Yet he continued to strive, persistently refusing to let the challenge throw him.

This was the part of the tale Sakura had enjoyed most. Gaara had spoken of transformation despite his inherent obstinacy, of the way he had learned patience one stumble at a time in the face of frustration. Of the way he had made room within himself to accept others, particularly his fox friend, and be accepted in return. His whole demeanour had changed when he spoke about this phase of his life and Sakura had marvelled at the way his expressions revealed the underlying passions he harboured within.

After much doing and forbearance on part of the monks, he settled in, lulled by the open acceptance of the temple residents and the stable routine of temple life. Although it took years, once he got the knack of it, his chakra control progressed in great leaps and he gained full command of his powers. He was allowed to leave the temple then if he chose, allowed to wander once more having attained a complete change within.

Gaara found the monks were right, he saw things very differently now. No longer a helpless and aimless youth, the world was a greatly altered place.

But once more, his wandering existence was not meant to be. News reached him concerning his homeland. The old Chieftain of the Wind Clan had finally died. Hence, the council was calling for a Sand Roam – a series of survival trials – intent on picking its new leader from those born within the clan.

Never would have Gaara believed the response the news elicited from him.

From one moment to the next, all doubt dissipated. He knew exactly what he had to do. After long years of wandering, it was now clear where his steps had been leading him all along.

Thus he had returned to his birthplace, causing scandal in some and relief in others within the Clan. But he was indifferent to the opinions of others now. The desert had given him its gift since his first breath and he was not about to throw it away. He would not allow the past to rob him of his truth.

Sakura wondered what the trials of a Sand Roam actually entailed. Gaara had not been able to tell her since he did not know himself. No one did. All he knew was that the challenges were brought by the desert itself in order to test the skills of participants in all aspects of life. Those who wanted to claim the title of Chieftain had to wander out in the dunes until the desert made its choice. They had to be prepared for anything.

When the sun rose, Gaara’s Roam would begin.

She openly wished him luck as well as strength. What he was doing was not easy. Returning to look his past in the eye and asserting himself was not for the faint-hearted. His courage and resolve were palpable.

For a moment, something stirred within her, a fluctuation of a memory almost remembered. As Sakura looked at Gaara while he slept, the feeling intensified. It was as if she could almost grasp an intrinsic part of herself she could not recall.

With one last look at the handsome redhead resting under the lee of the stones, Sakura sank down to the bottom of the pool, facing the open night sky under the surface. Even if she felt somewhat muddled and confused, for once sleep was out of the question. There was no doubt a part of her was enjoying the arrival of this unusual man who had unexpectedly come her way.

She could not wait to see what the following days would bring.

#GaaSaku #gaasaku-fanfests #GaaSaku Fan Fest 2018 #fanfic #keltoi-oak

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sonoflayton · 4 years

Text

Case File

General Information

Name: Alfendi Joshua Carson Layton Nicknames: Al, Fendi Alias: Jonothan "John" Rubens (Fendi), Alexander "Xander" Rubens (Al) [Aliases used in times when Alfendi feels unsafe and is not comfortable giving any real names] Gender: Trans Male (Al), Demiboy (Fendi) Pronouns: He/him and they/them Sexual Orientation: Asexual biromantic (Fendi), [demi]bisexual biromantic (Al) Birthday: June 19th Age: 29 Birthplace: Portland, Maine Resides: London, England Mental Ailments: Dissociative Identity Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (Al), Major Depressive Disorder (Fendi).

Alfendi Layton is an inspector at the Scotland Yard. He is the sole inspector in a division called “London's New Scotland Yard Serious Crime Division Classified Investigation Agency Headquarters“, which he affectionately dubs “the Mystery Room”, where the most difficult of cases are sent. He works there with his assistant, Detective Constable Lucy Baker, to solve the most head-scratching, mind-boggling, toughest cases to enter the Scotland Yard.

Alfendi has developed a condition called Dissociative Identity Disorder, which means, in essence, that there are two complete identities residing in the body of Alfendi Layton. Their names are Al and Fendi Layton, two boys that claim the other as their brother, and work together to create the whole being known as Alfendi Layton.

Canon-Divergence Summary

A brief explanation for those unfamiliar with Layton Brothers: Mystery Room and those who don't wish to read the entire bio on the major points where my Alfendi's canon differs from the game's canon.

• Instead of splitting post-Forbodium, Al and Fendi split during their childhood and grew up together.

• Alfendi's hair remains crimson, regardless of who's fronting.

• Alfendi is the biological son of Gabriel Cunningham, from Trauma Team.

• Alfendi was involved in a bus accident at the age of three, which killed Gabriel and shattered both of Alfendi's legs, which afflicted him with permanent nerve damage and frequent muscle spasms in his legs.

• Alfendi's hometown, Portland, Maine, was home to a dangerous epidemic. The Rosalia Virus killed Alfendi's abusive mother and caused Alfendi physical suffering. Alfendi now has a fear of disease.

• Justin used hypnosis to alter some of Fendi's memories about Forbodium. Al doesn't remember Forbodium due to the trauma.

Appearance

Height: 6'6", MINUS HIS SLOUCH Hair Color: CRIMSON Eye Color: AMBER

Alfendi is a tall, thin, lanky man. His skin is pasty and pale from lack of sunshine, decorated with faint freckles along the bridge of his nose.

His wavy, shoulder-length hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail, but that doesn't do much to tame his unruly hair. Fendi prefers to tuck his bangs behind his ears so he can see. Al has a habit of running his fingers through his hair when he become frustrated, leading to messy bangs in his eyes. This, among a few other characteristics, is a quick way to identify which of them is fronting.

Alfendi's nose is large, mishapen and a bit crooked; it is something that is difficult to miss, and if one is to point it out, neither Al nor Fendi are likely to respond positively.

There are many scars adorning Al and Fendi's body, including those from childhood accidents and sensitive situations that have faded over time. Most notable are the long surgical scars along their legs and a gunshot wound on the left side of his chest.

Alfendi's legs are different lengths, and shoe inserts are used to level this out. If one is to see Alfendi without his shoes on, he will hobble a bit and hold his head toward one side.

The System Named Alfendi Layton

Alfendi has developed Dissociative Identity Disorder. The identities living in Alfendi identify as brothers — named Al and Fendi — sharing the same body to create the one whole being named Alfendi Layton.

They call themselves Alfendi, as that's what they were called growing up, and the 'Layton' surname was adopted after they were adopted by Hershel Layton. All alters have the name Alfendi, and the name can be both associated with themself as an alter and themselves as a system, and the information on which they're referring to can usually be drawn from context.

Name: Alfendi "Al" Layton

Age: 29

Pronouns: He/him

Roles: Protector, Trauma-bearer

Interests: Cooking, psychology, solving mysteries, criminal psychology, movies and TV shows.

Appearance in headspace: Wavy crimson hair that is jaw length, styled in a fashionably messy way. Instead of the body's amber eyes, Al's eyes are an unmistakable yellow. Al is cleanshaven. He sports a scar on his cheek, the same that the body does. In the realm of the headspace, Al wears a favorite jacket of his, a brown tweed jacket with chocolate elbow patches.

Behaviors and Personality

Al is quite the unique character. As a young boy, Al was a sweet, outgoing child. When his abusive mother died and Al was faced with conflicting emotions, he cursed himself for feeling emotions that weren't sadness, and became an aggressive and mean child to drive others away, having convinced himself that he was a 'monster'.

What started as protective measures for others morphed into defense measures for himself and the body. He began to put on the mask of the violent stereotype of DID Systems to gain and maintain control of a given situation through fear, and he would do this through intimidation. When other kids attempted to approach him or call his bluff, Al would follow through on his threats, and get into loads of fights. He was given detention and suspension more times than he can count.

Over the course of his ten years living with Hershel, with the help of a therapist, Al eventually learned that violence isn't the answer, and now seldom follows through with his threats, the only exception being when he or someone he loves is truly in danger. He now only makes threats when he feels he's lost control over a situation, to drive away someone when he feels he's too vulnerable or when they're getting too close to him emotionally, or simply to see someone who's unfamiliar with him squirm.

Fendi

Name: Alfendi "Fendi" Layton

Age: 29

Pronouns: He/him, they/them

Roles: Protector, Host

Interests: Listening to the radio, solving mysteries, finding Hershel Layton.

Appearance in headspace: Wavy wine-colored hair that is shoulder-length, held back in a braid by a scrunchie. Instead of the body's amber eyes, Fendi's are olive. Fendi has a patchy beard growing. In the realm of the headspace, Fendi wears the same outfit that he does when he gets them dressed in the morning: a white labcoat, a blue and red striped sweater, gray pants, and red converse high-tops.

Behaviors and Personality

Fendi's role in the system is to protect the body from further harm, but from what, he doesn't know. He has zero memory of any of his trauma. In moments of crisis, all pain and suffering is shouldered onto Al, leaving Fendi to be the functional alter in any given situation.

As a child, Fendi was quiet and softspoken, even more than usual. He spent most of his time doing his best to be well-behaved and to avoid being a burden on others around him. This behavior was extreme, to the point where he spent most of his early childhood locked away in his bedroom, if not hiding away in his closet. His hobbies included daydreaming and listening to the radio.

After being adopted by Hershel, these behaviors carried with him. For many, many months, Fendi would tuck away in the closet, hiding away from his new family unless encouraged by Hershel or Flora to spend time together. Fendi was quiet and dilligent in class, earning good grades, and seldom socialized with other students, making him a frequent target of teasing. Over the course of his time with Hershel, Fendi learned that he's allowed to exist and take up space, and be more assertive. Even still, he's quiet, soft-spoken, and quite the pushover.

Joshua

Name: Alfendi "Joshua" Layton

Age: 29

Pronouns: He/him

Roles: Gatekeeper

Interests:

Appearance in headspace: Joshua looks a lot like Gabriel, their father. He has wavy, wirey olive hair that sticks more up than down, and is mid-neck length. Joshua's eyes are brown. He has some stubble.

Behaviors and Personality

Joshua hardly ever comes out, only doing so when Al and Fendi are both incapacitated, and when this happens, a new alter may be created. Joshua manages the system from the inside, organizing memories, controlling when switches occur and giving Al and Fendi any information they need when switching.

Carson

Name: Alfendi "Carson" Layton

If Al is broken to the point of not being able to process any more trauma in a given moment, and Fendi is put under stress, it's very likely that Joshua will create a new alter, named Carson. If this occurs, Carson will virtually be a blank slate, and their personality will be developed over time and influenced by their experiences.

Rose

Name: Rosalia "Rose"

Age: N/A

Pronouns: They/them, he/him or she/her depending on vessel's pronouns.

Roles: N/A

Interests:

Appearance in headspace: N/A

Behaviors and Personality

*Rose is not apart of the Alfendi Layton System, and is not canon, being exclusive to the following verses: We Are Rosalia, The Last Survivor, and Multiverse: Parallel Worlds Theory. Rose is a personification of the Rosalia virus, a hivemind virus that tries to infect and control every living being on earth. Rosalia has a fondness particularly for little Alfendi's body, and uses Alfendi for most errands in Maine.

Rose has a personality that's sickeningly sweet, but in a way that's offsetting and creepy. They have no regard for personal space, invading it in an effort to infect their target. Rose tends to have a grin that's too wide and appears fake, and tends to contort their bodies in ways that are abnormal enough to make people very uncomfortable.

Biography

**Trigger warning for: injury, car accident, death, mentioned chest gore, guns, comas, weapons, abuse, child abuse, and blackmail.**

**Spoiler alert forthe entirety of Layton Brothers: Mystery Room and the 2010 Wii game Trauma Center: Trauma Team!**

Alfendi was born as ▇▇▇▇▇ Cunningham, AFAB, to his biological mother, Lisa Cunningham, and his biological father, Gabriel Cunningham. At first, they were a happy family, but as time passed, the spark of love faded away. After months of ceaseless arguing and lots of emotional abuse from Lisa, Gabriel left when Alfendi was three years old. Alfendi lived with his mother and visited his father every other weekend.

One day, Alfendi went to the mall with his father to buy a birthday present for his mother. To their surprise, they encounter not one, but three of Gabriel’s co-workers from the hospital.

Suddenly, a school bus crashed through the wall. Alfendi was shoved out of the way by his father, saving him from being hit by the bus, but putting his legs in the way of the wheels, causing them to be crushed under the weight of the wheels. Luckily, Gabriel’s co-workers, two doctors and a first responder, were present and able to save nearly everyone. Gabriel was hit by the bus, pushed through the partiton, fell to the floor below, and was covered in falling rubble, and did not survive the accident.

Shortly after Gabriel’s death, without her legal husband to scapegoat all of her problems on to, Lisa turned to her son. She blamed him first for petty things he had no control over, then over things he had no relation to. As time went on, the emotional abuse became more frequent, then more severe, then turned physical.

As Alfendi endured these traumatic experiences, he developed Dissociative Identity Disorder as a result of his frequent dissociation. There were two complete identities in Alfendi’s body: Fendi, who tried to be a people pleaser, stay out of trouble, protect himself by being good, and Al, the trauma bearer, the alter who endured all of the pain, and therefore, is the only one who remembers it.

Alfendi was a frequent patient at Resurgam hospital, mostly due to a broken nose. Doctors and nurses were skeptical on the origins of these injuries, but Fendi always fronted at the hospital and claimed not to be able to remember what caused them. Nothing could be proven.

One day, around the age of eight for Alfendi, there was a report on the news; the united states had declared a state of national emergency. There was an outbreak of a new virus, the Rosalia virus, which was being spread across the city at an increasingly rapid rate, and the city of Portland, Maine was under quarantine. Both Alfendi and his mother began showing symptoms of the virus within a day, and they rushed to Resurgam hospital for care. Lisa passed away from the Rosalia virus due to a comprimised immune system as a result from a pre-existing condition, but a serum was made in time to save Alfendi.

Since Alfendi was orphaned, he stayed in the hospital after he was cured while the chaos of the Rosalia Virus cleared. During his stay, Fendi met Professor Hershel Layton, who was flown in from London in hopes that his legendary intuition would be helpful in finding the source of and a cure for the virus. Hershel would visit him frequently and read picture books to him, then, upon learning that he was orphaned, decided to adopt him. From then on, he would be known as a Layton.

Alfendi lived a lovely life growing up with his new father and two sisters, Katrielle and Flora. Hershel would sometimes leave on trips to go on adventures with his assistant, Luke, and archeological digs, leaving the Layton children in the care of Flora, the eldest. Alfendi would worry about Hershel while he was gone, but he would always keep in touch and return safely.

Al and Fendi were both transmasculine, and the Layon family were very supportive. They helped them by cutting thier hair in an affirming way and helping them to legally change their name to Alfendi as a child, getting them prescribed puberty blockers at 13, then testosterone at 16, and finally, gifting top surgery as a 17th birthday present (after years of saving and penny-pinching).

When Alfendi was 17, Hershel went on an adventure, and after a month of no contact, was declared missing. It was as if he had vanished off the face of the earth. In Hershel’s absence, Flora declared custody over her little siblings, and was able to support them with her job as a journalist.

Eventually, Alfendi graduated from Gressenheller University with a major in criminal justice, and ascended the ranks in the Scotland Yard, all the way up to Detective Chief Inspector of the homicide division. Alfendi was a prodigy in the solving of mysteries and reaching logical conclusions, just like both of his fathers, and was assigned the homicide division, with the exception of a single case that Fendi insisted on being assigned to: their father’s.

After a few years of working at the Yard, Alfendi moved from Flora’s house to Hershel Layton’s flat, which had been put into the care of and maintained by Flora. It was a logical decision, seeing as the flat was closer to his work than Flora’s place, but he was still close enough that he would come over for dinner nearly every night to eat with Flora and Katrielle.

At the age of 25, Alfendi worked on the task force for the case of the Jigsaw Killer, a string of murders connected only by a puzzle piece left at the scene as a signature. It was there that Alfendi met Justin Lawson, a fellow homicide inspector and Alfendi’s friend, and Hilda Pertinax, the interpol agent assigned to the case who requested the help of the Scotland Yard's finest to solve the case. Al fronted for the entirety of the time he worked on the case, due to his fascination with the case and developing crush on and chemistry with Hilda. Before he knew it, Al began keeping his DID a secret from Justin and Hilda, as it had never been 'a good time' to introduce them.

After some time, the suspects had been narrowed down to one Keelan Makepeace, who was chased by the police to an abandoned castle an hour outside of the city called the Forbodium Castle.

During pursuit, there was a stand off on the roof of one of the towers between Keelan Makepeace, and Al, who in his rush, had neglected to put on a bulletproof vest. Alfendi took a bullet to the chest from Makepeace. Afterward, Keelan was murdered by Justin, who had long before cracked the case. Lawson had been blackmailing Makepeace: kill who I ask you to, in exchange for your continued freedom.

Alfendi was rushed to a hospital, where the bullet was surgically removed. Miraculously, Alfendi survived at the cost of part of his left lung. He was in a coma for three months, and stayed in the hospital for a few weeks after waking for observation. During this time, Lawson visited them in the hospital daily, and due to him using genuine hypnotic suggestion found in a janky book about brainwashing, Al and Fendi’s memories of the incident are fuzzy. Al, the alter who was actually fronting at the time, claims to have little to no understanding of what happened, as his memories are scrambled and bits and pieces are missing, as it was a traumatic moment, and everything happened too fast. Fendi, however, has no genuine memory of the incident, and due to hypnotic suggestion, his mind has filled the gaps in his memory with events that never occured, and now seems to be convinced that he has shot Makepeace.

Hilda also visited Alfendi in the hospital, but because Al was busy processing the trauma of what had happened, Fendi had been the one fronting. The chemistry and playful banter she and Al had did not carry over to Fendi. He regarded her with polite distance and respect. If she tried to joke, he seldom understood, and if she teased him, he would meekly apologize. Realizing that she had fallen in love with Al and not Fendi, Hilda slowly distanced herself until she mostly disappeared from his life, aside from the occasional professional interaction.

Alfendi was given a not guilty verdict due to self-defense, but was demoted to Detective Inspector and legally prohibited from posessing a firearm of any sort, including a service weapon. Despite this, Alfendi is a talented inspector, one who is valuable to the Scotland yard. The comissioner, a man with a soft spot for Alfendi due to working with his father in the past, created a new division specifically for Alfendi, one where he can put his Layton intuition to work without going out into the field. This divison is called London's New Scotland Yard Serious Crime Division Classified Investigation Agency Headquarters, but is affectionately referred to as the Mystery Room, and is a place where the difficult cases that stump the other divisions, typically locked room murders and the sort, are sent. Armed with the reconstruction device, a machine that can recreate any crime scene from pictures taken by the initial investigators, Alfendi can solve any mystery without leaving the comfort of his office.

After four years, Alfendi was reluctantly assigned an assistant, a chipper detective constable named Lucy with a strong Yorkshire accent. Despite his initial hesitations, Al, Fendi and Lucy develop strong bonds and become a formidable trio.

The forbodium incident is brought up again soon after, with Keelan’s daughter, Diane Makepeace, luring Alfendi and Lucy out to Forbodium Castle again with the promise of information. After splitting up Alfendi and Lucy, Diane hatches a plan to take revenge by plotting to kill Alfendi in front of Lucy. She blindfolded him, tied him to a chair, and held a pistol to his head, but before Lucy could arrive, Justin Lawson arrived first. He shot and killed Diane Makepeace, then dropped her pistol in Al’s lap in an attempt to frame him a second time.

Using everything she’d learned from her time working in the mystery room, Lucy was able to solve a case deemed unsolvable by proving that there was no other possibility except for Justin being the killer of both Makepeaces. This cleared the name of Alfendi Layton, and sent Justin Lawson to face the punishment deemed by the law.

Though Alfendi is now free to rejoin the homicide department and obtain a license for carry, Al and Fendi both love their job at the Mystery Room, and have opted to continue working there with Lucy. As for the gun, he carries a service weapon now, and has a few other legally-owned guns stashed around his flat for defense.

Soon after, Alfendi got a phone call from his sister, Katrielle, who grew up to be a detective to search for their father. She declared that she found Hershel. After ten years of absence, Al and Fendi’s relationships with their father are certainly different. Fendi has spent his time looking for him, and is relieved to see him again despite the rift of ten years straining their relationship, while Al, who chose to replace his pain with anger, is resentful and angry for his disappearance in the first place.

Post-Hypnotic Triggers

"Shoot Keelan Makepeace", "Shoot Keelan", or "Shoot Makepeace"

When these sets of words are used in a sentence, it will cause Fendi to respond with "I shot Keelan Makepeace". Fendi readily admits to shooting Keelan, as he (believes he) remembers having done so. This particular suggestion does not affect Al, as he does not remember the events of Forbodium and his instinct not to confess to a crime he doesn't remember committing overwhelms the power of this suggestion.

"Relax, Relax, Relax"

This trigger is one that puts Alfendi in a hypnotic trance, and therefore, an easily suggestable state. This trigger has a variety of uses, including allowing one to create false memories for one of the alters, planting a new suggestion, causing temporary amnesia, and, if done correctly, creating a new behavioral response to a post-hypnotic trigger.

"Don't Forget to Remember This"

Once in a trance, when this phrase is heard and followed with a story in the second person, it allows the speaker to 'write' a false scenario into Fendi's memory. When the speaker is done, they can say "understand?" to clarify that they're finished, though it can usually be drawn from context when the 'memory' is over.

"Completely Forget About Forbodium"

During Justin's attempt to 'brainwash' Alfendi, he attempted to make Alfendi forget entirely about the events occurring at Forbodium. This, of course, isn't possible. It is, however, possible to cause temporary short-term amnesia regarding something specific, which is what occured. This trigger will cause him to forget about the events at Forbodium for up to thirty minutes, or until something reminds him of it.

Trauma Triggers

• The sound of a car pulling into a driveway

• Tomato soup

• Disease

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magic-mischief-and-chaos · 7 years

Text

We Are the Selfish Ones - Chapter 1: Hurts Like Hell

Read full fic here. (Will be added to AO3 at a later date).

Fandom: Thor / Avengers / TaserTricks

Rating: Teen+ (Mild swearing. Might get a bit steamy later).

Theme: Fantasy

Summary: Trying to show Loki that he can make his life better, Frigga casts a spell which makes him dream his ideal world based on truths. However, that goes wrong when he wants to stay. When they send Darcy in on an ‘Orpheus Rescue’… well, she is also seduced by the fantasy world and wants to stay too.

Author’s Note: ...

Hurts Like Hell

Frigga watched as her son was taken from the throne room and down towards the dungeon. She knew that her husband had forbidden her from seeing her son as part of his punishment - though she had every intention of circumventing this command with the technicality of using projection to visit him. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

She knew her son, and though he had changed much during the last year, he seemed… too different. Her son was not the kind to senselessly murder hundreds of people. He was not the kind to follow someone else’s lead blindly. And he had never wanted the throne… he’d never wanted any throne. The idea that he suddenly wanted the throne so bad that he would try for anyone at all was not something her son would do. Not of his own choice anyway.

Thor had told her that he believed that Loki was working for someone. Someone more powerful than him. And it frankly made no sense that, whatever this power was, they would allow him to rule over an entire realm. And for what purpose?

Loki had seemed unwilling to admit anything other than his lust for a throne, something he seemed convinced was owed to him. She just could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. Not just with the situation, but with him.

She needed to see his mind. She needed to see what was really going on.

She turned on her heel and went back into the throne room. Her husband was sitting on the grand, golden throne, his head hung in weariness, his grip on Gungnir tight.

“I need to see Loki,” she told him. ‘Now.”

Odin shook his head, his eyes closed in pain. “You know I cannot allow that.”

“This is not about his comfort and punishment, this is about his health. Something is wrong. I can feel it.”

“No.”

“Odin, something is wrong! Something is wrong with our son, and if we do not attempt to find out what, then things will only get worse.”

“Do you know this?” he asked evenly. “Have you had a vision in warning?”

“No, it is not a vision. You know that I would not be able to tell you otherwise. But it is a very strong feeling. One that I would not do well to ignore.”

Odin sighed heavily. “Unless you can prove that something is truly wrong, I cannot allow him to see you.”

“You cannot honestly-”

“Enough!” he demanded.

“No!” she shouted back, standing firm against her husband. “No, you will not deny me this. When Thor broke our truce with Jotunheim and started a war, you banished him without consulting me. Though cruel, it may have helped him in the long run… but your actions destroyed Loki. Your choices broke him. You once forbade me from telling him the truth of his parentage, and when he found out it shattered his trust in us. It ruined everything he knew. And you, you spent his entire childhood telling him that Jotuns were horrible monsters, knowing full well that he was one. You raised him to despise himself. You broke our son! I do not begrudge him his attempt on Jotunheim, as wrong as it was. He was broken, and confused, and desperate to prove that he was not like them. But I should have acted then. I knew he was upset. I should have spoken to him and assured him of the truth, rather than let the lies he was telling himself fester and drive him mad. Instead, I sat at your side, praying for your safe return to us. We lost our son to the choices we made. I felt that something was wrong, but I did not help him as I should have. I will not make that mistake again. And if I have to defy your will to help him this time, then I will not hesitate to do so.”

Her husband stared at her a long moment, his gaze level on her as he weighed what she said.

“You truly believe that something is wrong?” he asked. “Or are you just clinging desperately to the hope that the boy you raised is still somewhere in that twisted mind?”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “I truly believe that something is wrong.”

He hung his head, sighing deeply. “Frigga, I cannot allow-”

“You leave me no choice, then,” she said sharply, turning on her heel to leave.

“Alright,” he spoke, calling her back. “Alright, I will allow you this visit. But if you cannot prove that anything is wrong, you are to never see him again. Two guards will go with you.”

“No guards. Thor will go with me,” she said firmly. “Loki is reluctant enough to open up to us, he will not open up in front of anyone else. Considering this, I may need more than one visit. I refuse to give up until I have either confirmed or disproven what I believe.”

“Very well,” he said eventually. “You have one week.”

“Thank you,” she replied, dipping her head in gratitude. Then, she left quickly before Odin changed his mind.

She found Thor out on one of the balconies that looked out over the gardens. He looked as troubled as she felt. No doubt his fight with Loki on Midgard had been hard on him.

“Thor,” she said gently, getting his attention.

He turned to greet her, a fragile smile lighting up his face. “Mother. Are you well?”

“I am unsure,” she answered honestly. “Come, you are to escort me down to the dungeons to see your brother.”

Thor’s brow furrowed and his head cocked slightly to the side. “I thought that Father had forbidden you to see him.”

“He did. But I sense that something has wrong. He has allowed me a week to see if I can figure out what it is.” She neglected to tell her son that she had threatened to commit treason if need be. Thor was already noble enough that he would likely join her, should he believe in her cause. “Come.”

They began to walk together through the halls of the palace.

“You truly believe that there is something else going on?” he asked her.

“Do you?” she countered.

“I… Yes, I do. Even if he has gone mad, even if his time away has changed him, there was something different in the way he was acting. It was not like him at all.”

“How so?”

“He seemed frantic and desperate. One moment it would seem like I had gotten through to him, and a bit of the old him would shine through, then suddenly it would be gone again. Though he was often able to manipulate the situation to where he wanted it, many of his decisions were brash and unusual. Not as calculated and precise as he normally would be. It was most concerning. Even now, he does not seem himself. And I am truly surprised with how well he is able to do… well, anything, considering how much I have seen him sleep. Which is minutes at most in the last few days.”

“He has not been sleeping?”

“Not that I have seen. And the guards have not reported him sleeping much either. I saw him nod off a few days ago, but he quickly awoke. Another time a guard reported that he was standing there silently, which made them think that he was up to something. And the guard when the guard grabbed him by the shoulder, that he suddenly awoke and attacked. Only, he let the man go when he seemed to realise where he was, so it was not an attempt to escape.”

“He is afraid to sleep,” she murmured in realisation. “He is keeping himself awake to avoid the night terrors, and waking from them the moment he does sleep.”

“You may be right, mother. But what could possibly have caused him to dream of something with such fear?”

This gave Frigga pause as she considered his words. “Can you tell me about what transpired?” she asked. “How he acted, what he said? As much detail as possible.”

Thor nodded. “When I first found him, he had been taken prisoner by a group of people I now call friends. I took him from them so I could find where he had the Tesseract and bring him home. But when I asked him of its whereabouts, he simply laughed and said that he missed me too, though it was clearly insincere. And the moment I mentioned father, he was quick to insist that he was my father and not his, asking if you had told me the truth. He seemed so bitter, though I do not blame him for that. I tried to convince him that despite this, we were still brothers. That we were raised as brothers and that to me his parentage meant nothing in comparison. But he told me of how he remembered growing up in my shadow, and that I threw him into the abyss… I assumed that he meant when he fell from the Bifrost, but… he let go. Had I been holding his hand instead of Gungnir I would have done all I could to make sure he was pulled up with me. But he seemed under the impression that I was the one to let go of him. And then he started ranting on about he should be king as it is his right… Which is also strange. The last time we fought he told me of how he never wanted the throne, only to be seen as an equal. Now the throne is all he wants.

“He then started saying how he has seen things and seen worlds that I couldn’t possibly imagine. And that he had seen the true power of the Tesseract. And it occurred to me that he would have been shown this by someone. When I asked who, he avoided the question by responding to something else I had said.”

“I see. Perhaps he did not want you to hear the truth through his lie. He knows how to make a good lie, but he also knows when a lie will not work.”

“It is possible.”

“What else happened?”

“After that I was confronted by the men who held him prisoner. They were fighting to get him back. They were truly impressive warriors and we soon came to a draw, only to find that Loki had not used our fight as a distraction to escape. He wanted to be captured so his plan would work, and against our better judgement, we had no choice but to take him aboard the flying vessel he was to be detained. That was where I once again met up with the son of Coul. He showed me digital visions, he called them videos, of what Loki had done whilst on Midgard. These videos showed his arrival, and…”

“What is it?”

Thor shook his head, looking worried. “I have never seen him like that before, Mother. He looked… ill. His movements were heavy and sloppy, and he often stumbled or had to lean heavily on someone. And his reaction times were much slower, even while fighting. Not once did he use magic of his own, there were no illusions, only the magic from his sceptre. He arrived through a portal created by the Tesseract. Fought with S.H.E.I.L.D.’s agents until none but Barton would attempt to attack him. And when he did, Loki pressed his sceptre to his heart and Barton fell under his control.”

“Under his control?” Frigga said in surprise. She knew that this was not a power her son had mastered, or even attempted before.

“Yes. With the sceptre, he was able to place Barton and my friend Erik Selvig under his mind control. He started speaking… mad ravings. Talking about how an ant has no quarrel with a boot. And how he brought ‘glad tidings of a world made free of freedom’. That freedom is a lie and that you will know peace once you have accepted that fact.” Frigga frowned in concern. “He said something similar at another time. The other video showed him terrorising a large number of Midgardians. He trapped them and through fear, had them kneel to him, much like how their ancestors willingly did. Once they complied he began to speak of how they were made to be ruled and that they craved subjugation. That freedom diminishes the joys of life and that it was simpler to just obey. It was most disturbing.”

“Indeed it is,”Frigga agreed. “It is almost like he has had this way of thinking ingrained upon him…”

“You think that someone has told this to him before?”

“…You may not have noticed, with him seeming so controlled. But Loki was always such a free spirit. His tricks are proof of this that you know. And though he had the wisdom to be a wonderful advisor, he always felt that court was a bit too… stuffy as he put it. He believed that people should have the freedom to express themselves how they choose, so long as no harm came to anyone. If he came to truly believe that freedom is a lie and that the only way to be free of it is to submit… I can only imagine that someone has told this to him again and again whilst doing something to convince him to surrender.” Her jaw was tight, and she had to clench her fists as she pushed the idea from her mind. It would bring nothing but anger and heartbreak, and it was needless if it had not happened. However, she could not push away the nagging thought that it likely had.

“Torture,” Thor said in surprise. “You think that he was tortured?!”

“I do not know. But it is a possibility. We still have no idea of what transpired during the year since he fell.”

“I fear that it does sound entirely logical.” He thought for a moment as they continued down the halls and into the dungeons, being let in by the guards without hesitation. “Do you think that Father will change his mind if it is true. If Loki really was tortured, would Father at the very least lighten his sentence.”

Frigga shook her head. “I do not know. But if it is true, then I shall do all I can to see that he is not punished for crimes he may not have willingly done.”

“Father will not like it.”

“I dare say he will not, but he knows where I stand on this. I will do anything I can for my son.”

As they walked around the corner, a row of cells came into view. Loki stood alone in the first cell on the left. He was doing nothing but standing there stoically with his back to them until he sensed them coming towards him. He turned to face them, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

“I thought that Odin had forbidden you from visiting for all eternity,” he said, addressing only Frigga.

“He has allowed one week’s reprieve.”

“How generous of him,” he sneered.

“Loki, he has granted me this time so I can find out what is wrong,” she told him.

This made him laugh. “Wrong? In a realm where everything is controlled by one old, corrupt man who is too blind to see the truths that are right before him? No, nothing is wrong at all.”

“She means about you, Loki,” Thor said, making Loki finally look at him.

“There is nothing wrong with me,” he said, grinning sardonically.

“I have felt that something is very, very wrong. And we both know better than to ignore our senses, Loki.”

He snorted slightly, though it seemed less one of contempt and more one that said ‘of course’. “And what, pray tell, is so very ‘wrong’?”

“I was hoping that perhaps you would let me into your mind to see-”

“No!” he said quickly.

“If I can prove to your father-”

“He is not my father!” he shouted.

Frigga did not respond to that. “If I can prove to him that there is something wrong, I may be able to help you.”

“I do not need your help!” he spat. “There is nothing wrong with me, and there is nothing for you to find inside my head. If you so much as attempt to gaze at my mind, you will know the most unimaginable pain and you will only wish that you were dead. Understood?” he said, raising his brows threateningly.

“Perfectly,” she said levelly. “I shall be back tomorrow. Thor.”

Thor dropped his stiff, rather defensive stance and followed his mother back out of the dungeons, not taking his eyes off Loki for a long time.

“Mother, are you sure it is wise to go back tomorrow. He clearly does not want you to look in his head, and I doubt that he is to change his mind in the next seven days. He threatened you.”

“Did he really?” she asked cryptically.

“Yes, he did!”

She smiled softly and looped her arm through her son’s. “Thor, do you ever recall Loki trying to hurt me.”

“Just because he has not harmed you in the past does not mean that he will now,” he warned.

“Oh no, he has in the past. I am asking if you recall it.”

This made Thor pause and think back. “N-no, not really, mother. I… think I can recall him throwing something at you once, but the memory is vague.”

She nodded. “You were both young. Only children. It was winter and we had gone out to the lake to play. Loki did love the snow, he could play out in it for hours… Sadly I think he would hate the idea of it now. You were quite rough as you played. While Loki skated, you jumped, enjoying sliding and slipping about. But you jumped and tackled him to the ground on a thin spot. You managed to tumble away on time, but Loki was stuck on the thin, cracking ice.” Thor stiffened as she told him the story, realising how much his carelessness had put his brother in danger. Had he always been like that? “As he tried to stand, the ice cracked even more. I went over to try and help him. He told me not to come any closer, but there was no way that I would let him fall under the ice. When I did not listen, he took off his skates and threw them at me. And then he threw chunks of ice at me, still telling me not to come any closer. I was able to get him out, but not before the ice cracked and he fell part way in.”

“I remember that,” Thor said. “He was sick after that, but not as sick as he should have been. It was the first and only time I ever recall him getting a cold.”

Frigga laughed. “Yes, he was always quite resistant to the cold. But do you understand what Loki did by trying to hurt me?”

“He threatened you to protect you,” he realised. “He thought that throwing something at you would keep you away from the bigger danger… You think that he is doing that now?”

“He only said that I would know unimaginable pain, not that he would inflict it. It was not a threat, it was a warning.

#tasertricks #fanfic #darcy lewis #loki #Goddess of Chaos writings

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asaforestonfire · 7 years

Text

Grim

Hey I wrote a weird fic thingy in like, 6 hours and have not edited it at all and prolly won’t cause I’m lazy but hey, here, take it:

In your youth, you would rest on a blanket in the depths of a lab, protected by the watchful eyes of stuff kittens provided to you by the kind hearts who cared about you. White sheens of hard shells crafting soft features of felines with two too many eyes in the dim lights of pulsing green checkerboards that surround your bed. When the glean would fade, the quiet clinking of hard joints against each other cease to fill the room, the calm serenity would be replaced. You would hear them. The voices. The choir of chatterings and soft screeches that would combine into an unnatural melody of promises.

The sentinels lovingly made to guard the young wizard, covered in old sheets and clutching onto her portal to the realm of her friends, shift in the night. Their curious white eyes turn cold when you writhe, small hands plugged over your ears. You want them to fend off the noises, to repel them back, to let you sleep. But they cannot. They sit. They watch. You are young when you learn to ignore them, to simply repel their voices and quiet them to nothing more than a soft buzz. The eyes stare. The figures stay stuck to their seats. The bottles slowly block them out.

Your adolescence goes by in a blur. You are reminded of the moments in your youth, the few words made out among the cacophony of cries bleeding into your sleeping mind, when you first handle the controls below the wide grey screen. Delicate hands travel across the panel in a method that only someone familiar with the technology could perform. The screen lights up, blue light causing your vision to falter for a moment, before fixing itself. An young man sits in a room, red sky behind him as sparks fly off a metal pipe, welding mask over his face and arms exposed. You take brief note of his figure… only to hear the sounds again. They never came up when you were awake and out of bed, you assumed they were resigned to night and when you were teetering on consciousness. It hurts. The voices, they hurt beyond imagine. You can barely hear your thoughts above anything else. You slide down the front of the panel, hands cradling your head and knees moving to protect your face. Without your touch, the screen blinks out, leaving only the pulsing green you are familiar with to fill the darkness.

A month later, you try again. The novels you have written have already stacked tall against the far wall, and your drawings are tiring with nothing new to go on, so you turn to the last source of curiosity. Your hands move in another pattern, different from last time. The target today: a kindly woman sits in a home, leaned over a counter and idly writing in a large book, annotating pages with dense text. For some reason, you are captivated. You lean against the console and watch her for hours, admiring how nice her home looks, the gentle smile on her face, her pretty handwriting… until the screen cuts out when she enters some room you don’t recognize. Frustrated, you try to go back to that setting, to return to what had seemed so simple and pleasant, only to wind up staring at someone with similar features, but in the middle of felling a large beast. You hop back as the screen flares with a gunflash. The man takes a moment, confused, before looking at what you feel like is yourself. You are… unnerved.

Later that night you cannot sleep. No matter how many bottles stack you can never seem to drown them out. They cry out to you, they call you by name, demanding you help them, save them from their agony. They promise you a life free from your residence, to provide you the ability to meet those faces. They reach out and quell the sickening green you are too familiar with, and brush against your face. You feel them around you. You feel… nothing.

The barrel of the blunderbus kicks up into the air and you recoil, complaining that he’s getting to excited and reminding him there’s no reason to fire in the middle of the damn house!!! Sure you did finally manage to mix something that didn’t explode, but all you need is a fucking hug instead of the full 21 gun salute. In seconds you are wrapped in his burly arms, and spun around, getting stupid mustache hair in your mouth. You don’t care though. You’re more than happy to hug him back and giggle as your spun. It’s been years since you saw him on that screen, and now, he’s taken you on as an intern for his business. From the first moment you create a decent adhesive, you start propelling forward in the field of chemistry, advancing rather quickly to the point that you outpace the entirety of the initial team he had assembled. You feel… accomplished. When he pats your head or takes you out for lunch you are entirely focused, kept completely in the moment. You don’t see the void in your dreams.

Normally, normally though, you have taken to manifesting in the empty void, surrounded by nothing and everything at once. There are thousands of eyes peering at you, blinking, unfeeling, curious. But then there is nothing. You are alone. You are crushingly empty. You are nothing.

You have returned to your old home, snow surrounding the brown brick building covering the sprawling complex below. A tinge of pain runs through your body as you step through the light dusting of white, body tensed beyond belief. The silver of your flask touches your lips, a swell of courage courses through your veins, and you suddenly remember everything you had spent so long forgetting. The wrinkles on your face deepen, exasperating by the second as you trail down the winding steps to your childhood home. You need to do this. You need to ignore the unflinching eyes of your former guardians and clean the space. There is work to be done, and you will do whatever you can to ensure it moves along smoothly.

They keep calling to you. Every. Single. Night. They reach out to you and try to wrap their whims onto your soul, always trying to sway you with promises of knowledge and protection, of love and desire, of a spot in their court so long as you accept their gifts. You know, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt, you are not who they want. Yet they call.

Sometimes they strike a nerve, others they manage to catch you in a good mood. But recently, they have talked the only language you listen to. They promise you meaning.

The home has finally become a real home. After your trip to meet the one woman who made you feel calm, you returned home with a new purpose. Her face is too bright for you to look at sometimes, her smile illuminating the dark that had haunted you for so long. She grasps at your fingers and babbles to you as you drive her home. Even without the knowledge you have been provided, you would have known she would do great things, anyone this perfect had to be meant for something greater. In the moments you spend, cradling her close to your breast as you walk the path up to your door, the flask you had carried since you left the labs, falls and rests in a snowbank behind you. She deserves the best, and you will do your damndest to provide it for her.

She’s read her way through half the library at this point. You are amazed at how hungry she can be at such a young age, so concerned about how this works and why that functions like it does. Whenever those bright purple eyes look up at you from your lap, and those cute lips part to ask you why some acids are lethal and others simply erode certain substances, you can feel yourself regain some of that spark you lost. On her third birthday, you present her a sentinel, this one able to bat away the various daytime beasts who end up making your sunshine jump. She cries when you tell her he is hers.

Two years later, he turns up dead on the beach. There are bags under your eyes. The sun is hidden behind dark clouds as you carry the kitten back to the home, a stagger in your step and a few tears staining your cheeks. You wanted to find him a place to rest while the casket can be made, somewhere out of her view, but she noticed. She sits at the counter to do her school work, today scribbling a series of symbols on a piece of black construction paper in red crayon, only to drop it on the floor. She cries. You quake. The darkness slowly creeps into your vision.

Nothing works any more. No matter how much you try and make up for it, how much you beg for them to let you make it better, you can’t. So you drink. Not to keep them quiet, but to forget. To try and find some way out of this shitty fate for her, but no. No every day just makes her more distant and you more tired. She’s stopped going to school, you both knew she never needed it but once you got to drinking often, and she finished elementary, there was no way she could even leave. You’ve trapped her. You know you have, but fuck it! You were doomed from the start and they taunted you with it. They still fucking offer you options, to take their hand and join them but no. No if you are going to be a shit role model may as well make sure it’s not for everything. So you drink, you cry, and you let her hate you. You try to make her not but she always does.

The meteors have started to fall. You watch them on the screen, sitting around your cats and trying to pass the time. It’ll be over soon. She’ll be fine soon. Everything will be okay soon.

They still talk with you. Now you simply talk back. You wander the landscapes they set up with their dreams. Feet traversing the same paths they had arranged you to, you reflect quietly. Their songs are quite peaceful now.

Her land is nice. You missed the feeling of monsters falling to your fist, or the feeling of making the shot that felt absolutely impossible. It reminds you of the smell of mustache wax and burnt gunpowder. You make sure to leave her enough to keep her swimming in resources for as long as she needs. The ruins are calm, the consorts kind, and the lights nice and bright. You take the time to memorize every inch of the surface of this planet, you want to have something new to travel.

He is kind. You never saw him in your viewport, but god you feel like he is everything you could have ever wanted. Tall, kind, able to bake, resourceful… a bit creepy but only in so far as being almost too much of a gentle man, even the pipe smoke somehow makes him appealing. He makes you feel safe. The old man picks you up on his ship, and the meeting is brief. You share a quiet conversation, wine on your breath making his smile waver, the wear on his gun causing your gaze to turn. It is almost over.

You spend the rest of the ride chatting with the partner chosen to guide you into the last moments of your life. He is surprisingly well spoken, passionate about these funny little mundanities, but set against the goofy nature of his interest in pranks. You remember… the woman from the view port. He must be her son. That explains the tranquility. He asks about your interests, you crack a few jokes about the only interest of yours being the interesting field of managing to never see the bottom of your glass. He gives you a slight worried glance, but politely laughs along. Then you say your daughter, and he smiles. That smile rivals hers. It’s a different kind of warmth, more, the kitchen when his wife used to cook, but warm nonetheless. You ask him about his son and the warmth is almost overpowering.

He pours you a drink, you smile. For once, you feel at peace. He holds your hand, pipe by his side, and you hold his, wine in your off hand. And then you feel it. You feel them. They’re back and they’re here and. The darkness comes creeping in above you. No, no no no. You were told this would happen after you were gone. They sing to you in dissonant tones, a thousand different voices screaming at once. You recoil into a small ball, curled up on the ground, hands covering your ears. No. No no no no no no no no no no.

It is dark. You sit back in the void, cradled in the tentacles of Yogthragth, surrounded by the circle. They remind you that they had warned you, and that there is still something left. They offer you a chance to buy some time before the timeline collapses. The light is lost, now all there is left is to return to nothing.

Ink rains from the sky, coating the checkerboard fields enough to render them unrecognizable. Tendrils of thorny black lift your prone form from the ground, setting you on your feet. There is a castle to find, and a grave to lay in.

A sword pierces your gut. A sea of ink flows from your mouth as you hunch over, fist clenched around the mutt’s throat.

Then. It all goes black.

Your vision,

The battlefield,

The planet,

Everything.

As you fade, you think you see them, the sentinels, watching over you with their curious eyes. The darkness overtakes you, and the mutants who had watched idly, take their leave, watching over you again in a different line.

#alcohol /

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imyourliquor-youremypoison · 7 years

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Peter Pan Fic Rec

Okay so since I’m the one who’s been complaining about soft hearted OC or Y/N, I think I owe y’all this. I keep track of every single fanfiction I read on a rec blog (but it’s in French and not on tumblr) so I figured I should make the same thing here.

Echo by PurpleLady

I just had to be her. The one he fell in love with, the girl who was taken away from her brother, got aged back to being sixteen- forgetting my memories for 28 years in the process, and then having to jump into a giant portal not knowing where I would be taken. "He thinks I'm Robin Hood's twin sister who got kidnapped by Peter Pan for two decades."

It’s over 300k long and it’s mindblowingly good. The author recreated the way the episodes work, she swtiched between past and present scenes that intermingle really well and everything is perfect. She did incredibly well with so many characters and the OC has depth and is relatable. Also, she’s a ‘bad guy’ technically.

Red Rebellion and its even better sequel Never Seas by thoughtsofanonymous

Based in the future. [Peter Pan x OC] [Captain Swan] Emma and Killian's rebellious daughter is paid a visit by a very intrigued Peter Pan.

[Sequel to Red Rebellion] Killian and Emma's headstrong daughter Elizabeth Swan had always been a handful. As if her relationship with the mischievous Peter Pan wasn't already enough of a headache, on the eve of her eighteenth birthday she inherits powers beyond her control. [includes subtle themes from Pirates of the Caribbean]

These two a jewels. Especially the second one. In case it’s not clear: this is a OUAT x Pirate of the Caribbean crossover, with Elizabeth Swan, daughter of Killian Jones and Emma Swan, as main character. And it’s fabulous from beginning to end. The author magnificently writes this complex crossover (since OUAT is very disney-like and PotC is a lot darker) and she doesn’t tone it down because of the fairytale characters but rather takes them to a whole other level of authenticity and complexity.

When One Day Is Equal to a Thousand by YouSaidWho

Indigo Garcia walks worlds - out of time, out of place - and unrestricted by anyone's rules. And she has one mission; it's going down on Pan's island.

This one is a little wonder too. The author obviously knows what she’s about and she carries out her idea beautifully. She’s written other Peter Pan fanfics I haven’t read yet (but I will) and you will find them below. I have no doubt they are as good as this one because the author’s style is awesome! Plus, if you like Hook, this one is definitely for you!

Secrets by xPeterPanNeverFailsx

For my own safety, there had always been two things that I had kept to myself. The first: they had made one huge mistake when they brought me to Neverland. I was no lost boy. The second, well, I suppose it's a secret for a reason.

This is a oneshot and it has a nice twist I think, which I really enjoyed. It’s about 6k long and it’s the only one of I found with this ‘plot’.

Never Let Me Go by expecto-patroniam

I spent years away from him. Decades. I left because I thought that was what he wanted. And now, after all the hell I've been through, he tells me that he never actually wanted me to go.

Also a onehot but much shorter than the previous one. This one I read a longer time ago and I don’t remember exactly what it’s about but I rated it 75% so it must have been somewhat good. It won’t cost you much time to give it a shot anyway :)

What You Care About Most by xPeterPanNeverFailsx

When it comes time for Pan to cast the spell again, the spell that brought all of the people in the Enchanted Forest to Storybrook, he must decide if it is worth it to sacrifice the heart of the thing he cares about most, the only girl he has ever loved.

I don’t remember much about this oneshot either (I’m really useless, right???), but I wrote (and I quote) “Heartbreaking but beautiful” so- idk hold onto your feels?

Alpha by Mikki19

Omegas weren't supposed to exist any longer. They were said to have died out many years ago, so why was Polly-Anna feeling the prickly heat when the Pied Piper pays another visit to Hamelin?

This one is a lot of smut sprinkled with a bit of plot, but mostly smut. I’m not joking at all, this is the smuttiest fanfiction I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot of them. If you’re not comfortable with graphic scenes, this is not for you.

Jewel of Neverland trilogy by DreamerGirl96

The Jewel of Neverland

They say Peter Pan is a monster who can't love. Then the shadow brought back stubborn, naive Amy. No matter how she denies it, she's falling for the cruel boy. Will love be Pan's saving grace or his ultimate downfall? Takes place before, during, and after Operation: Save Henry.

Safe and Sound

The backfired curse has sent all of Storybrooke and its inhabitants back to the Enchanted Forest, including Amy. Only her memories seemed to have survived and her magic has grown stronger. Threats lurk around every corner as she fights for the ones she loves and not destroy herself in the process.

Shatter Me

The missing year has Storybrooke in confusion and chaos. Felix and Serena are back to being reluctant allies, Henry has no memory of his home, and Zelena has the Dark One captive, along with Peter and Amy. It's a race against time to save the past and stop Zelena from preventing her sisters from never being born.

I am in the process of reading this trilogy but so far it’s fairly good. It’s written in the first person narrative, which is not my personal favorite but it’s fine. There are a few mistakes here and there (grammatical mistakes) but it can be overlooked too. The plot is good as far as I can tell (I’m only halfway through the first part). The three combined parts are about 300k long.

The following I haven’t read yet but they are on my to-read list

Dream Nightmares For Me by ForeverNeverlander

Cheri Regan finds herself on Pan's island, Neverland. All of the fairy tales told to her in her childhood are false, and she is kept "captive" in this "Pan's" camp. She doesn't talk, doesn't respond to Pan's efforts. She then finds herself in the middle of a game that she has no idea of it's consequences.

This one has smut in it, you are warned.

Never Never Neverland by DREAMLESSLY17

Aria, daughter of Captain Hook and a mermaid, was born on Neverland. Who else would she fall in love with but Peter Pan? When Hook escapes Pan's control, he smuggles Aria with him. He erases her memory and returns to the Enchanted Forest. She's then swept up in Regina's curse separating her even farther from her love. Now 28 years later he has a plan to get her back. Season 3.

Innocence by kkshootingstar

A girl doomed before her own birth to be violently wanted by every person in her entire world, and then imprisoned for her entire life starting at age 5, of course wants nothing more than to escape. His Shadow is called to her, and takes her to Neverland, where she gets her freedom. And when you give an evil boy an innocent girl, opposites attract.

Paperkites and Paperchains by YouSaidWho

Evelyn Asteri gave Peter Pan her love. And now he's come back to claim all of her. Lost girls and lost boys are at war across realms where love and hatred collide time and time again in an endless battle of hideaways and secrecy where only one side will remain Panfiction! Pan/OC. Slight Hook/OC, but Lieutenant Duckling cause CS is endgame. M for smut and violence.

[18 years after Paperkites]

Tasha Highmark is a nineteen year old musician struggling in New York City. With memories coming back to her in disturbing vividness, she must rely on those around her to help her return to the Enchanted Forest and rescue the people in her dreams before it is too late. Sequel to Paperkites. AU. M for Smut and Language. Pan/OC. Felix/OC. Gremma. CaptainSwan.

A Solider’s Curse by YouSaidWho (with alternate ending)

Trapped by Peter Pan in a deal that she never truly agreed to, Ella Hart is bound to serve his will. Defying everything she was and everything she believes in, she obeys everything he asks of her. That is, until hope arrives in the form of a pirate. Multiple Pairings. Pan/OC, Hook/OC.

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yumekuimono · 7 years

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[WinterFrost] Everyone But Yourself Pt. 5/5

A/N: the big reveal! I regret nothing. *evil laugh*

there will be an epilogue to this, as well as several extras

Between Avengers missions and the night Loki crawled shivering into bed as a cat after having successfully summoned the Casket of Ancient Winters from the void of space, desperately needing Bucky’s comfort and support through what turned into a whole bad week, he barely noticed the run-up to his birthday. So it was somewhat of a surprise to wake up to JARVIS’ date display reading March 10 and realize that he was 29 years old, more or less. 98 if he wanted to be technical.

“Does Asgard celebrate birthdays?” he asked Loki on their way to the kitchen for breakfast.

“No, single years are not important when one lives for millennia. What does one do on Midgard?”

“Well, usually there’s a party with cake and people give you presents.”

“Hm.” Loki slid into his arms, kissing him until he’d nearly forgotten the conversation. “I did not get you anything. Will this do?”

Bucky laughed lightly. “This’ll do just fine.”

“Good.” Loki went back to thoroughly kissing him, steering him backwards by the hips until they hit the couch.

“You just want an excuse to make out with me,” Bucky teased, falling onto the cushions, his head tilted back over the arm. Loki straddled his lap, looking down on him from above, his face alight as he took in Bucky’s grin, thumb caressing his cheekbone.

“Do I need one?”

Bucky pushed a hand into Loki’s hair to bring their mouths back together. “Absolutely not.”

“Mm, then perhaps, I should take you back to bed with me,” Loki hummed against his lips, in between kisses. “Keep you there all day.” He moved down Bucky’s jaw with just the barest hints of tongue and teeth which Loki knew drove him crazy until he could suck gently at the hinge. Bucky sighed out a groan, pressing up into him. “I could spend hours teasing you, and another just opening you up until you cry,” Loki breathed wickedly into his ear. Bucky whined, breathless. “And then,” Loki promised, “I would make you scream.”

Bucky moaned. “D’you need an excuse?”

Loki sucked briefly on his earlobe. “Not in the slightest.”

He turned to capture Loki’s mouth again, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and tugging gently with his teeth. He palmed Loki’s ass, encouraging him to grind their hips together.

And then there was a hasty chime from JARVIS, immediately followed by a strangled noise of surprise. Both of them froze. They glanced up to find Steve standing there blushing bright red, evidently having come in from the stairs. Bucky felt his stomach plummet, his arousal snuffing out. Then Steve recognized Loki, and his eyes went even wider.

“Loki, step away from him now,” Steve ordered, his voice impressively controlled given the situation.

Bucky looked back in time to see Loki’s expression shift subtly, as if he were retreating inside himself. Something else replaced it, and Bucky got what he meant when Loki described his deception as wearing masks. It was as if another person had taken over his boyfriend’s face. Bucky hated it.

“I do not think I will.”

Steve frowned, and his fingers twitched as if for the shield. The situation was already bad, but if he called for reinforcements, it’d get even worse. Bucky sighed, and prodded Loki gently in the side.

“Get off me, kotyenok.”

Loki glanced down at him, the mask cracking just a little, and Bucky could see that behind his composure, Loki was badly frightened. He tried to look as reassuring as possible as he nodded, despite his own fear. Loki shifted off the couch then to let him stand, but stubbornly kept an arm around Bucky’s waist, pressed close to his side. Bucky put his own arm around him, squeezing his hip.

“Let us explain, Steve.”

Loki moved his hand up to Bucky’s shoulder, and he caught on a second before Loki transformed, landing on his shoulder as a cat. Loki regarded Steve, who was once again looking shocked, before picking his way across to Bucky’s other side. He never sat on his left, but suddenly Bucky got it again, and he held out his wrist with his elbow tucked into his side. Loki jumped down, shifting into his kite. He shuffled his wings once, and then flared them enough to hop off of his perch and hit the ground as a wolf. Bucky’s fingers had barely grazed his ruff before Loki straightened into his more usual form, Bucky’s arm falling naturally back around his waist.

Steve stared. “You’ve been pretending to be Bucky’s cat? And…Clint said he kept seeing a weird bird, and Sam told me he thought he’d seen a wolf once. You’ve been in the field with us, too?”

“With James,” Loki corrected.

He turned to Bucky to demand, “Did you know about this?”

Bucky was currently worried that he was going to lose Loki to Asgard and never see him again, but he still wanted to roll his eyes and say, “Duh, he’s my boyfriend.” Instead what he did was sigh again and say, “It’s kind of a long story, Stevie. What’d you come down here for in the first place?”

Steve blinked. “I— Tom’s diner is still around. I was going to take you for your birthday as a surprise.”

“Perhaps,” Loki said quietly, “I shall make the trip to Jotunheim early.”

Bucky jerked his head around to look at him, about to protest. Loki had only just regained his footing after summoning the Casket. It would be better if he waited longer to return it, but the uncertain look on his face stopped Bucky short. He pressed his lips together. “Okay. Be safe.” He leaned in to kiss Loki one more time, reminding him as they parted, “I still want my birthday present.”

Loki managed a tight smile. “Of course.”

He turned away from Bucky, walking towards the windows. Between one step and the next he was outside, soaring away with the wind ruffling his feathers. Bucky watched until Loki was out of sight, already missing him like an empty space in his heart. Then he turned back to Steve.

“Let’s go, then. I’ll explain on the way.”

Loki made his way to the passage that would lead him from this Realm to Jotunheim on leaden wings. He flew through the twisted corridor before taking his Asgardian form to pick his way through the rubble that closed off the exit, emerging once more near the edge of the great crater. It had snowed recently, and Loki struggled his way through knee-deep drifts to a bit of flat ground, where he summoned the Casket of Ancient Winters from its pocket dimension. It glowed faintly blue before him, half-sunken into the snow and lighting it from within. Loki shivered, though it wasn’t the cold he minded, and with a mixture of fear and worry and dread already churning sour in his gut, he surely couldn’t feel much worse. He reached out and picked up the Casket.

He could feel the change as it happened, and he knew what he must look like. He swallowed down the self-loathing that came with the image. This was his first form, what should have been his true birthright had it not been stolen from him by centuries of lies and hatred and prejudice. He knew now that the monster he’d believed himself to be was a lie. He’d watched the Jotnar, while his spells were combing through the vastness of space, looking for the best way to return the Casket should he recover it. They were a people of survivors, shaped by the land they lived in, and no more the childhood monsters underneath his bed than any of the other people Asgard cast itself above.

If he was truthful, Odin had always treated him as though he were Jotun. Regardless of his adoption, regardless of the lies he was fed and the secrets that were kept from him, Odin had never seen beyond his own prejudice when looking at him. But Loki was no longer bound by him, or to Asgard, and he did not have to accept the caricature he’d been presented. He was himself; and he was Jotun.

And James had seen, and shivered, but touched him anyway with his metal hand, and told him he was gorgeous no matter what he looked like. Casting a spell to maintain his appearance without having to hold the Casket of Ancient Winters, Loki set off across the icy fields.

Bucky sighed long through his nose, staring through the windshield. “Loki was there for me when no one else was. It’s not your fault. I wasn’t in a good place to let people in at the time, and Loki wasn’t in a place to do more than be a cat.” He chuckled quietly. “We were both kindve a mess.”

Loki took himself to a region distant from the crater, where he knew there to be a fairly large band of Jotnar. Nominally, they had belonged to Laufey, but he’d learned privately, they had a greater interest in moving forwards than clinging to the remnants of a past glory. The concerns of living in a slowly dying Realm left little room for anything else. Still, they had taken in the last members of Laufey’s regime, the hunters that had survived the Bifrost, and seemed to integrate them well.

The sky was low and grey, the large snowflakes drifting down quickly picking up into flurries that obscured his vision. He was still several kilometers from his goal, traveling on foot. He could have teleported directly into the band’s shelter, but it was important that he be seen approaching. Loki trudged on through the worsening weather, acutely aware of the impression he would give: a small, mysterious stranger emerging from the storm to bestow a lost artifact with the power to restore Jotun civilization to its former heights. It was deliberately the sort of thing that would inspire tales told to future generations.

He was once again manipulating how others saw him to achieve his goals, and it made his skin feel dirty. That he was doing it to aid an entire Realm of others rather than for his own selfish motives was little consolation. How much better was he than Odin that he was coming to a Realm he did not belong to having decided what would be best for them? For all that he was Jotun by birth, the little he knew about their customs that he could be certain was not twisted by Aesir racism came from the hours he’d spent scrying to decide whom to entrust with the Casket. It was a shocking arrogance, but he saw little other choice if Jotunheim was to be able to keep the Casket away from Asgardian hands. The most he could do was have as little influence as possible in what happened after it left his possession.

That would be complicated, though, by the fact that he might not be able to return to Midgard. If James could not convince Captain Rogers to let him stay, he would need to find somewhere else to hide from Asgard. Vanaheim, Alfheim, and Nidavellir would recognize him, and he could not inhabit Svartalfheim, Muspelheim, or Niflheim. Leaving the Nine Realms would require a ship and provisions, and theft of such would be sure to get him noticed. Jotunheim was his best bet for safe refuge, although he did not relish the lies he would have to tell to remain here. They could not know his true name, nor why it was that he knew nothing of how to survive on Jotunheim and next to nothing of Jotnar culture. He needed to walk a fine line between playing mythic benefactor and leaving himself an opening to return as an ordinary, if woefully unknowledgeable, member of the band.

“No I know that, Steve. You really think I’d let someone get close to me who could control my mind? I know it’s just my word on his right now, but Loki told me some stuff about that invasion.”

Loki had become so used to hiding his presence from the gazes of Heimdall and Thanos, as well as from the Avengers, that he found himself uncomfortable when he suddenly became the focus of attention for the returning group of hunters that had finally spotted him. They escorted him to the band’s shelter, a large cavern system that extended into dug-out chambers in the snowpack, and at his request showed him to a private room while one of them went to fetch their leader. The room was small by Jotun standards, but Loki still felt dwarfed by the lofty ceiling and the moderate furnishings, pillows that could each serve him as a couch and great embroidered hides hanging on the walls. The floor was covered with pelts that stood out grey and white against the dark rock, and the walls were veined with a similarly-colored mineral that glowed with light.

Two women entered the room after a few moments. One of them was easily more than half again Loki’s height, while the other stood a head shorter than her companion. They took seats on the floor before him, putting them at more or less eye level. Loki remained standing.

“Greetings to you, stranger,” the shorter one began. “I am Nal, leader of this band.”

“Greetings as well,” said the other. “I am Farbauti. I speak for the remainder of Laufey’s band, that have now joined with Nal’s.”

“My greetings to you, Nal, and to you, Farbauti,” Loki replied, following their lead. He inclined his head to each in turn, realizing that he would have to introduce himself. The first name that came to mind was James’ endearment for him, and he went with it. “I am Kotye. I have traveled a great distance to bring you an item that was once lost and is now restored.”

Nal gestured for him to continue, and he summoned the Casket to his hands once again, placing it between them. Both of their eyes widened, and they leaned forwards but did not touch.

“Does Asgard know of this?” Farbauti asked sharply.

“No, it had fallen into the void of space, from whence I retrieved it. They believe it there still.”

Nal sat back, looking to Farbauti. “So this is truly the Casket of Ancient Winters?”

“Yes. I saw it often enough as consort to Laufey, and though I have not laid eyes on it since, I would not forget the appearance of the heart of this Realm.” Loki tried not to gape at her.

“This is quite the gift, then,” Nal murmured, her eyes narrowing. “With this we could restore the natural balance of the world that was disrupted by the Bifrost. The capital could be returned to its grandeur of millennia past.”

Farbauti snorted. “Those who thought Thor’s War would restore our glory have gone to the last winter. The rest of us know that Asgard will punish the least infraction with excessive force. With this we might hold our heads up once more, but to catch the eye of Asgard is to risk our own necks.”

“Very good.” Nal’s gaze drifted back to Loki. “And what of you, Kotye? Surely such a gift deserves something in return, and one with skills such as yours could be a benefit to us.”

“All I ask is that the Realm be healed, but that it also remember.”

Farbauti and Nal shared a look, and Farbauti gestured at the Casket. “You would freely give up such power? With this you could command the loyalty of the Jotnar, as Laufey once did.”

“It is not my right to wield it.” Loki smiled. “In any case, I have left my heart in another Realm, and I must return to its keeper.”

“I love him. I’m in love with him, Steve.”

“Will you not share meat and drink with us?” Nal asked.

Now that his mission on Jotunheim was seemingly successful, Loki’s worries about the situation on Midgard had come creeping back in and he was anxious to return. At the mention of food, however, he realized that he had not yet eaten today. He recognized it also as a symbolic gesture. If he ate with the band, he was no longer a stranger and thus was bound not to injure them without cause. Besides, he liked Nal, with her clever couched politics, and he wanted confirmation of who he suspected Farbauti to be. So despite the sickness in his stomach, he accepted.

Loki learned much about the Jotnar sitting at a meal with them, and as a stranger, they wanted to know much about him. He tried to lie as little as possible. He had traveled extensively through the Nine Realms, and it was true that there were pathways for those who knew where to look. It helped somewhat that all those who knew of his direct involvement in Thor’s coronation and war were dead, although he did not have to like that fact.

Towards the end of the meal, Nal remarked, “You have a silver tongue to rival my own, Kotye. Our lives would certainly be lesser if this was to be our only meeting.”

“Then perhaps it shall not be.”

“Also, I would like it on record that you have terrible timing, Rogers. I was being promised a day of fantastic sex before you walked in.”

Steve choked on his pancakes and had to take a sip of his malt to calm the coughing.

“Although, I suppose it’s better than you walking in on us actually doing it.”

“Bucky!”

Loki flew back through the spires of New York City, worry clawing at him. James was waiting for him on the roof of Avengers Tower, leaning on the railing staring out at the lowering dusk. He straightened when he saw Loki, a grin brightening his face. He took a couple steps back and waved, and he would not do that if Loki’s welcome was uncertain. Relief washed over him, and he shifted before he had quite reached head-height, dropping into James’ arms as he landed on the roof.

“You can stay,” were the first words out of James’ mouth. The second, after they had kissed with Loki’s hands in his hair, were, “Welcome home.”

Loki beamed at him. “I am glad to be home.”

James took him to their floor, saying, “Oh, wait here,” when they had reached the bedroom. Going back to the laundry closet in the hallway, he pulled their softest blanket out of the dryer. Then he draped it over Loki’s shoulders, engulfing him in warmth. Loki stared at James, incredibly touched. Then he tackled him into a hug that landed both of them on the bed.

“I love you.”

Now it was James’ turn to beam. “Love you, too.” He made them comfortable, tucking the blanket around their bodies and tangling their legs together. “So, how did your trip go?”

Loki told him everything. He didn’t think he would ever get tired of the way James listened to him.

When he was done, James said, “My only question is are you okay?”

“Better for being here,” Loki replied, smiling.

“Good,” James smiled back. “Are you ready to hear the results of my conversation with Steve now?”

“Tell me.”

“So, he’s worried about upholding Asgardian justice, since the whole reason they’d been experimenting with the Tesseract lately was because that incident in New Mexico got SHIELD and the world government scared and we don’t wanna go making enemies. But he’s also never had a problem breaking the rules when they get in the way of what he thinks is right, an’ he’ll always go for the underdog. So the upshot, since I don’t know too much about Asgardian politics, is that you can stay for now but he wants to talk to you before he makes a final decision. Only problem is, he’s always been terrible at lying to keep a secret. He’ll do his best, but eventually somebody else in this tower’s gonna notice.”

Loki nodded. “Will he speak for me?”

“Not right away? But I think he’s interested enough to argue for hearing you out.”

“That may be enough. Thor will be the biggest concern, and we must prevent him from acting before I can speak. It may be better to simply reveal my presence to everyone, and answer the Captain’s questions then.”

Bucky stood nervously outside the conference room door, cradling Loki. Steve had called a team meeting at his request, and they’d waited to be the last to arrive. Loki licked his chin, and Bucky smiled at him, taking a deep breath. He walked into the room to find the Avengers ranged around the table, two seats left open at one end.

Right as he entered, Clint asked, “So what’s the meeting about, Cap, that we have to come with an ‘open mind’?”

“Well, it’s not really my meeting. It’s Bucky’s.”

All eyes swiveled to him, and he managed a half-smile. “Yeah, it’s about my cat.”

He put Loki down, who promptly transformed. “Hello again.”

If Bucky had not been so jittery that he wouldn’t have trusted himself to accurately fire a rifle on a tripod, the shocked faces of the Avengers would have been funny. He noted distractedly that Loki was wearing the shirt Bucky had given him.

Everyone seemed to start talking at once, but Thor’s voice boomed over the others as he shot to his feet, chair flying back. “Loki! What is the meaning of this?”

Loki smirked, although Bucky could see the tension around his eyes. “You really must work on your incentives. Did you truly think the promise of being returned to my cell would ensure my compliance?”

“I watched you die!” Thor stormed around the table.

“Please, that one fractured my spine in several places and I am still here.” Loki nodded at Bruce, who blanched. He slipped his thumbs out of his sleeves, flexing his fingers and not taking his eyes off of Thor. “You are quite gullible, and I did pretend to betray you. It was only fitting.”

“Have you not betrayed me by coming here, amongst my friends and shield-mates? Insinuating yourself within the protectors of this Realm? What are you planning, Loki?”

“You really should know better than to ask me that directly.”

Thor reached for Mjolnir, but before he could lift it, Loki flung a hand towards his chest, pivoted, and slammed Thor into the wall with magic, pinning him there. He stalked forward, hand extended, naked fury and hurt on his face. Thor fought to free himself, struggling in vain.

“All my life, you and your father,” Loki spat the word, “have used and discarded me, and the moment my actions are no longer under his control I am deemed a threat while you get off with a slap on the wrist and nothing changes.” Loki paused, glaring. Then, tilting his head, he asked, “Did you know Odin wanted to kill me? Did you know I asked him to?”

Thor’s eyes widened. “You…asked?”

“And Odin refused so he could remind me that he holds my life in his hands and I should be grateful because he made the benevolent decision to take me off of Jotunheim as a baby. He has never treated me differently than a monster that would eat naughty Aesir children. Tell me why I should not want to die rather than set foot on Asgard again.”

Thor struggled to speak. “That…does not change the fact that your actions have brought death and destruction across the Realms. Justice must be done for them.”

“Yes, and I’m sure you know all about my actions given that I was not present for my farce of a trial and no one was present to witness my sentencing,” Loki sneered. “If Odin truly valued justice rather than peace and quiet, would your treason have even been necessary?” He turned to look over the other Avengers then, switching hands to hold Thor up. “All of you have blood on your hands.” His gaze lingered on Bruce, then Natasha, holding her eyes. “Is it not the point of this group to redeem your debts?”

Natasha inclined her head a fraction in acknowledgement, but did not speak. Steve was frowning heavily. Clint had his arms folded, and next to him, Bruce seemed a little green around the edges. Sam was looking between Thor and Loki, while Tony looked like he was trying to figure several things out but couldn’t quite get any of them.

Thor thrashed against Loki’s magic again. “Do not fall for his words, he is planning something!”

“I thought the two of you were supposed to be brothers,” Sam spoke up.

“Yes, you do not know him as I do,” Thor insisted.

Bucky figured it was time for him to step in. Loki had switched back to Thor and was about to retort, but he stopped when Bucky took his free hand. He looked steadily at Thor, and he knew there was something disconcerting in his gaze that had not been there before HYDRA. “I know he helped me get through my nightmares and panic attacks when he didn’t have to. I know he put his freedom and his life in danger to stay with me, and he did it more than once. I know he protected me, and that he cares about me. I know he likes really dark chocolate, and art history, and Blade Runner, and drying the dishes after they’ve been washed. I know what he looks like when he’s lying. What do you know about him?”

Loki dropped Thor, folding into Bucky’s arms. Bucky held him and glared at Thor over his shoulder as he picked himself up off the ground.

“Right, family drama is all well and good,” Tony interrupted, “but why weren’t we alerted about this months ago? I scanned you, like, the first day you were here.”

Bucky answered while Loki got himself under control. “We asked JARVIS not to tell.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “JARVIS, have you been keeping things from me?” he demanded. “Have you been lying?”

“I simply did not feel that this information was urgent enough to prioritize, sir,” JARVIS replied blandly from the ceiling.

Tony clapped a hand over his heart, looking to the ceiling as though with tears in his eyes. “I’m so proud of you, buddy.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Steve cleared his throat. “Right, why don’t we all sit down and discuss this without resorting to bodily harm.”

They sat, Bucky placing himself between Loki and the rest of the Avengers, and Thor returning sullenly to his seat. Tony leaned onto the table to peer at Loki’s face from around Bucky. Loki raised an eyebrow at him.

“Hey, JARVIS,” Tony said distractedly, “display footage of Loki from the invasion.” The projector in the middle of the table flickered on, showing a silent video of Loki in full armor strolling through the penthouse. “Pause that. Zoom in on his face.” He frowned between the still and Loki, before pointing triumphantly at him. “Your eyes are green.”

Loki smiled wanly. “Indeed.”

“What are you seeing, Stark?” Natasha asked.

Tony enlarged the image. “Look at this. His eyes were blue during the invasion.”

There was a collective double checking of Loki’s eye color. “That’s not the same blue as the rest of us, though,” Clint pointed out.

“I was being monitored,” Loki explained, “rather than fully controlled.” He looked at Thor. “You knew I was working for someone else.” Thor nodded grudgingly. “You did not ask if I did so willingly. My actions and surface thoughts were limited if I wanted to remain in control of my mind, but in truth I was playing both sides. I knew the invasion would never work,” he acknowledged to Tony. “I intended it not to, but I had to seem as if I believed it would.” Loki turned to Clint then. “My apologies that your enthrallment was necessary.”

Clint narrowed his eyes. “I still don’t like you.”

“That is fair.”

Bucky had already heard the answers to the questioning session that followed, albeit in a more broken up, emotionally raw manner. He interjected when it was relevant, but mostly he held Loki’s hand underneath the table. The humans were naturally disapproving of Odin’s judicial methods, but less willing not to respect Asgardian sovereignty. The conversation eventually stalled on the question of Loki’s trustworthiness. The only corroboration they had for much of what he claimed was Thor’s word, but the biases of the two were often wildly conflicting and the Avengers had no way to assess which was more accurate. It was entirely possible that Loki was manipulating them to gain sympathy in preparation to enact some scheme. Bucky was forced to bite his tongue and let it play out. He knew he was compromised where Loki was concerned.

JARVIS finally chimed to request their attention. “If I may, I have stored some footage that may be of interest in this matter. My apologies, Sergeant Barnes and Mister Laufeyson, for recording without your permission. I thought that it might eventually become necessary.”

They glanced at each other, and Steve said, “Go ahead, JARVIS.”

The AI displayed several muted videos, looping the short clips when they finished. There was one of Loki as a cat squirming into Bucky’s arms while he was having a flashback and then staying to let Bucky play with his fur, and one of him barely holding it together until Bucky got home and then sobbing in his arms. There was one of both of them relaxed and happy as they talked, and one of Loki pacing anxiously waiting for Bucky to get home, dated to his first Avengers mission. There was the first time they kissed.

Loki tightened his grip on Bucky’s hand. “Thor, how many campaigns did you lead after the Bifrost was repaired?”

Thor turned his frown from the videos to Loki. “Three. Defending the Dwarf-king Eitri, quelling the Badoon civil war, and freeing Vanaheim of the Marauders.”

“So,” Loki summarized, speaking to all of the Avengers, “I was sentenced to a life of solitary imprisonment because I acted as an agent for the Mad Titan under threat to my life and sanity; as well as because several independent groups decided to take advantage of the instability of the Nine Realms in the wake of Thor halting actions I took as the legal King of Asgard that, while I was emotionally compromised, I believed were necessary, given that Asgard’s greatest warrior was in exile and the four next best had committed treason against me, in order to end a war that Thor started. Without Frigga to plead on my behalf, were I to be returned to Asgard, Odin would not be so lenient. You may either grant me political asylum, or condemn me to death.”

Looking directly at Thor then, he asked, “Can you kill me?”

Thor dropped his gaze, unable to meet Loki’s eyes. In the end, no one spoke against Loki remaining in the Tower.

After they had all filed out of the conference room, he leaned into Bucky, trembling minutely. Bucky rubbed his back and murmured in his ear, “Hey, kotyenok. We’re okay. You did it, you’re gonna be okay.” Loki transformed, climbing into his arms as a cat and pressing bodily against him. Bucky took him to one of the armchairs in the lounge, stroking his fur and rubbing his jaw and ears. He kept at it for as long as it took for Loki to start purring, the tension of the last few hours pushed aside.

When Tony came in a while later with a smoothie concoction and found them like this, he asked, “Does this count as public indecency?”

Bucky let out an “oof” as Loki transformed back into his usual self, stretching sensuously across his lap and chest with a smirk.

“Not yet.”

Tony snorted. “Unfortunately for you, I am in a happily committed relationship.” He took a drink of his smoothie, then gestured with his cup. “So, if you’re gonna stay in the Tower, do I get to throw you out of a window? ‘Cause I gotta say, I was kinda disappointed I’d never get the chance to when Thor said you were dead.”

“I hardly think so. I have already fallen from the eightieth floor, and I have no wish to repeat the experience.”

“What, you have? How? When? It doesn’t count if I don’t know about it.”

“I was unaware of your primitive energy barrier and teleported into it.”

“JARVIS do we have footage of this?” Tony demanded.

“It is possible, sir.”

A light went on in Tony’s brain. “Wait, is that why you were annoyed with me that day?”

“We really must talk about your attempts to recreate magic via technology.”

Bucky patted Loki on the back. “Well, if you two are going to bond over the nature of space-time, I’m going down to the gym to kick Steve’s ass, since he won last time. I’ll see you later?”

Loki kissed him, grinning. “You will.”

#fanfic #Winterfrost #bucky x loki #loki laufeyson #bucky barnes #Steve Rogers #farbauti #nal #thor #tony stark #jarvis #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #shapeshifter!loki #lokitty #jotunheim #reveal #everyone but yourself

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