#i am reading her words and they are so eloquent. where does she hide within me? where do i look to have you back in my head? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

txemrn · 3 years

Text

Faded

Book/Pairing: The Royal Romance; Leo x Madeleine

Warning: angst (some dark discussion that would give away the plot); smut 🍋 (awkward, NOT sexy); language

Word Count: 3008 (+/-)

Song Inspiration: Faded by Alan Walker ft. Iselin Solheim (lyrics quoted in the text)

A/N: This is a Royal Roulette, technically, but then again, RR was created specifically for Wacky Drabbles, and I just couldn't get the word count down! Oops! Anyway, this idea came to me when I heard this song, and this story needed to be told. Some of it is canon; some of it is creative canon; some of it, well, we'll call it creativity. lol Any and all of these ideas came from my head, but I acknowledge that others have probably written similar stories (purely coincidental).

Huge special thanks to some of my sweet writing friends: @ao719, @charlotteg234, and @kat-tia801. This took a group effort, and I love you ladies so very much for pre-reading and making this story better. And as always, these characters belong to our friends at Pixelberry!

***

He was a rushing wind; my billowing sails drift me into the unknown, but I don’t care. He’s an incinerating inferno: every tradition I was taught was set ablaze by his touch. My caged heart was unlocked by him; he set the monsters running wild inside of me. In my world of propriety and decorum, he taught me to live; more importantly, he dared me to love.

He broke free: from the customs, our culture, the captivity of our world. He broke free.

Without me. And the mess is all mine to clean up, left with only a picture of our passion--a photo of the love we once shared together. But even that is fading, and will be lost.

I’m alone with my thoughts this morning on my walk. The bite of salt in the coastal breeze tickles my nose, inviting my platinum strands into a carefree dance amongst the sunrise. Adjusting my oversized tortoise-shell sunglasses, my bare toes leave the comfort of the white sand beach only to discover the sting of the barnacle laden steps to the stone jetty. But, the shallow waters never met what I needed. My soul craves to commune with the waves from the deep.

I’m lost; there isn’t enough time in the world to think this through, and yet somehow a decision has to be made. God, where are you now? Was it all in my fantasy? Were you imaginary?

Many described our relationship as ‘destiny’--no, not exactly the romance you read about in foolish fairy tales or hear about in silly love songs. Our families ran in the same spheres of wealth and power. Politics. We are royalty. Since we were close in age, we would spend countless hours together throughout our childhood and teenage years. Being the oldest son to the king, he is--well, he was--the crowned prince of Cordonia; an agreement to our nuptials started well-before my formal training specifically for his social season.

But, something was different about Leo and me. We grew quite fond of each other, a friendship that developed into sharing secret kisses in darkened corners. Was this normal for friendships? Or did we have something deeper? Was this love?

As long as I can remember, I was taught my body was not my own; I was born with a greater purpose, and in that purpose, I would bring honor to my family and my name. I would earn my place in history: a woman who gave of herself everything she could for the sake of a country. Even love.

My reputation is to be held in the highest regard. My efforts in style and wardrobe would be subject to conversation and scrutiny. My eloquence and table etiquette could determine whether or not I’d be fit to be a queen. Every eye movement, every smile, every response could bring honor or dishonor to my family. No one cared about me as long as I presented a pristine package to court, a sacrificial lamb for king and country.

But, when the moment came for me to be chosen as his bride, I felt the swelling of joy inside my chest, bursting like strobes of light for everyone to witness. Suddenly the ideas of ‘the one’ and ‘happily ever after’ that I read about in the great classics teased my senses; I wanted to cry, to scream, to laugh. My body had a sudden thirst, a yearning for him that I didn’t understand.

In my innocence, this could only be one thing.

“Countess Madeleine,” he knowingly grins, “will you do me this honor?”

Swallowing thickly, her jade eyes flutter open at the sound of her name. In a handsomely fit tux, adorning his family colors in full regalia, her future husband, the future king of Cordonia, takes a knee to present the stunning canary solitaire. The dread melts away as the butterflies overcome her nerves.

Keeping with propriety, she nods her head while curtly dabbing away tears. But, something is distracting her: she is to be relishing in her accomplishment of winning the honor, for winning all of the glory, for winning the crown. She is to be the next queen of Cordonia.

But she is overwhelmed by all thoughts of him, her husband-to-be, the father to their future children. Suddenly the life she had been training for didn’t matter; she was betrothed and in love.

Smoothing out the tightness of my heathered linen pants, I take a moment to stare at my empty ring finger. I feel soreness from the collection of tears, but I refuse to allow anymore drop on his behalf. Today is hard enough.

I hug my body, remembering the warmth of his intimate touch. I had kept myself pure for him. Until that night.

Within an hour of making his intentions known to the court, Leo scurries away with his future bride, leaving only a trail of giggles and whispers along the way to his chambers.

Shrugging off his jacket, Leo presses her petite body against the locked door. His hand gently cradles her head, his thumb tracing the length of her jaw. His lips hungrily search hers, wolfishly devouring her mouth before she can react.

“Is this okay?” he whispers under his breath, his smoldering gaze entraps her innocent eyes. Breathlessly focused on his swelling lips, she nods her head dutifully.

He places his hands on her waist before sliding them intently back onto the curves of her ass, grabbing at her fullness under her whimper. A growl becomes his breathing, staring at his prey.

“Do you love me, my future queen?”

Love. Was that love?

The hypnotic rise and fall of the waves is starting to sour my stomach, but the ocean spray is so inviting and calming on my clammy skin. Finding a smooth stone, I seek refuge from the surge of the sea’s tantrum. Relaxing under the gentle rays of the morning sunshine, I close my eyes, only to see him.

He cheats her out of her next breath, his tongue overwhelming her mouth. His eager fingers find the zipper to her ballgown. He paws at her back, his fingers brushing against the secret skin of her body.

Her bra tosses to the wayside; admiring his new found treasure, Leo’s hands plunder her supple curves. His mouth plummets to her hardening nipples, his teeth teasing her nerves with fear. The sudden twinge of pleasure thrashes her head against the door.

“Shall I continue, beautiful?” he exhales, catching his breath; but, before an answer is uttered, he stumbles back into the temptation of her perfect body. His fingers tease across the waistband of her petal pink briefs; her eyes cinch closed, her mouth unable to hold back a moan.

“Someone is enjoying themselves,” he chuckles, standing to tower over her. He kisses her cheek, leaning his mouth close to her ear. “Is this what you want?” He tucks a strand behind her ear.

“Mhmm,” her lips curl slightly, leaning into his touch.

“Do you like what I am doing for you?”

“Yes,” she softly groans.

“Yeah?” He reaches into her panties, her knees buckling to the wandering of his fingers. “Mmmm,” he pulls his hand out, licking his fingertips, “that’s my good girl. You love my touch.” He stands back, shaking off her body. Locking his eyes with hers, he casually steps backwards until he reaches the bed. He slides off his belt, unfastening his slacks.

“Come here,” he motions for her to step closer. “Show me your love for me.”

Madeleine’s eyes focus on his growing girth, bulging from his unzipped pants; but, then her gaze darts around the room. Surely he knows that she isn’t well-versed in such endeavors.

“Maddie?” he combs his fingers through her blonde tresses. “I love you. You know that, right?”

She closes her eyes. The words send a jolt of happiness through her veins. She was experiencing love. She was prepared for everything else, but this?

"Then, let me show you,” he growls, pushing her back onto the bed. Hungrily ripping off her panties, he exposes her to his touch. Youthful and pure. "Are you ready?"

He spreads her legs apart, her thighs trembling. She grips the sheets with her tiny fists. Her doe-like eyes stare into his hunting blues as she feels him touch her again; but this time, it wasn't his fingers.

With an inexperienced push of his hips, red flashes before Madeleine's eyes as she squints her eyes in pain, hiding the gathering of tears. He thrusts again; her teeth gnash at the breaking of her body. Her head thrashes back and forth, groaning as she serves a penance under his rhythmic plunges into her warm, narrow core again and again. Harder and harder. Faster. Deeper.

Without warning, the beating of her body stops, leaving her stretched, completely filled with him. Moaning her name in the company of obscenities, his breathing becomes quick and shallow despite his efforts to slow down. Sweat gathers across his brow as he savors the delicate tightness of her depths. Stumbling into his ecstasy, he loses control, pouring himself into her. The sudden rush of fullness makes her whimper, the sting begins to dull as a smile crawls across her face. His lips meet her soft, glowing skin. Finally, it’s over.

That night: it was so long ago. But, I can still feel it; I can still feel him. The smell and taste of him lingers on my tongue. I miss him.

And with that, my breathing labors as I choke out a sob. I press the back of my hand to my lips as tears cloud my vision from the Mediterranean horizon. A sour pang creeps up my throat as I cradle my tender belly with my other hand. Clenching my eyes closed, I hope to hold back the downpour of tears from my soul. God, please not again.

Madeleine's head rests on Leo's shoulder, his strong arm securely around her exposed body. Her marigold diamond catches the pale moonlight perfectly, it's brilliance mesmerizing the bride-to-be as she subtly teeters her hand on his well-structured chest. He suddenly engulfs her hand with his. Turning towards him, her lips meet his perfectly like the final piece of the puzzle, locking seamlessly in place.

"Runaway with me, Madeleine."

The flecks of evergreen in her eyes sparkle with curiosity. "What--?"

"This life, Maddie," he gently rubs her back, "is this really the life that you want-- that you'd want for us?"

She sits up, taken aback from the peculiar question. "You mean the life we're living right now? Us? Being engaged?”

“Yes--I mean, no. I--” Leo stumbles over his words, dragging his hand across his face. “I love you, and I want to be with you--” he pushes a platinum strand behind her ear, “--but do you ever wonder what it’s like out there? Out in the real world? Away from all of this pressure? Away from all of these rules?”

“Away from the public eye? Living life--” she titters into a big smile, “--like everyday people?"

"Yes." He sighs, pressing her hand against his heart. "Before long, we will be in charge. In charge, Maddie. Of an entire country." There is a quake in his voice, a quiver that even makes her feel chilled. "I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” a breath hitches in his chest. “Will I even be a good king?"

“Of course," she whispers, offering a doting smile, “Of course, Leo," her voice becomes stronger, authoritative. “You can do this. You were made for this. And while, yes, you are the king, you’re not alone.” She laces her fingers with his. “You’ll always have me. You have my support--” she kisses the back of his hand, “and most of all, you have my love.” She leans down to kiss his hand again, but rather he captures her in his arm, bringing her to his lips, making her squeal.

“I love you, Madeleine.”

She moans into his pout as he kisses her once more. “I love you, too, Leo.”

The creaminess to his baritone voice dissipates from my memory, fading away much like our love. How could I have been so foolish? I gave him everything--I promised him everything. My life, my whole existence was for him, and I naively thought that love would somehow stitch us together, that somehow we would be the monarchs that did have it all. Wealth. Power. Love. A happily-ever-after that could join the rankings of the greatest love stories ever told.

But, it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough.

The sudden rapping on the door abruptly wakes Madeleine from a deep sleep. The sunlight pours mercilessly through the windows as she grabs the sheets to cover herself.

The door suddenly tramples open, Constantine bounding first into the room, followed by his head guard Bastien. “Where is he? Where’s Leo?” The king sneers as the blonde trips out of bed, reaching for clothing. “For God’s sakes, couldn’t you two show some fucking self-control?”

Madeleine cinches the high-thread-count sheet around her body, leaving her slender shoulders and décolleté exposed. As a blush crawls across her face, the question begins to haunt her: where is Leo? He wasn’t in bed this morning. In fact, his clothes are missing from their disheveled heap that was next to her discarded dress. His watch and cell phone were missing from the bedside table. But, otherwise everything seemed to be in place.

Madeleine rushes to the ensuite bathroom, hoping to find a logical clue to Leo’s whereabouts there.

"Call him. Now," the king growls at the anxious countess.

"He's not answering us, Countess Madeleine. We assume given your current relationship with his majesty--" Madeleine nods in understanding.

"I'm sorry, but the phone number you're trying to reach has been disconnected or is no longer in service."

Her eyebrows furrow as she ends the call. "I--I--I don't understand," she stammers, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. "His phone has been disconnected--"

"Fucking ungrateful--” growls Constantine, ripping the phone from Madeleine's tiny hand, “--selfish son of a bitch!" He throws the phone against the wall, shattering it into pieces. He gruffly turns towards his future daughter-in-law. “Are you certain you dialed the right number?" He spits. Madeleine braces herself against a wall, turning her face away from him. She carefully nods, refusing to make eye contact. “Unbelievable!” Constantine knocks over some antique silver candelabras before exiting the room, leaving Bastien behind.

“Sir?’ Madeleine quietly calls to the guard, drawing closer to him, ensuring her body is covered. “What is all the commotion about? Where is Leo?”

“Leo failed to report to his morning engagements about last night festivities. According to our cameras, he left this morning through the northwest gate in an unmarked black Sudan around o’four hundred hours.”

Madeleine cups her mouth as she stumbles to sit down on the bed. She nervously combs her fingers through her tangled tresses. “What does this mean?” She spouts nervously, her body shaking with tears gathering in her eyes.

“Please try not to worry, ma’am,” Bastien carefully places a comforting hand on her bare shoulder, quickly withdrawing it when their eyes awkwardly meet at the gesture. “Um--” he clears his throat, “--I don’t know what he’s doing, but we will find him.” He turns on his heel to leave Madeleine alone when suddenly a thought hits him. “By any chance, did he mention anything to you?”

‘Runaway with me, Madeleine.’ One simple request. He asked me to just simply follow him. I thought he was joking or simply making a hypothetical request due to his uneasy nerves; but, my love for him aside, this was my calling: to serve him. If I had chosen to honor him rather than challenge him… if I had chosen to remind him of responsibility and duty rather than trying to win him over with ludicrous ideas of love in marriage…

Leo abdicated the throne.

No one speaks about royalty relinquishing their responsibilities. We’re born into this; we were made to do this. We spend our entire lives preparing, being told that it is an honor to bear such greatness, it is an honor to host such power. No one speaks of the alternative. Truth be told: if we knew there was a way to escape, to renounce such a life as this, how many of us would take that chance?

It’s been seven weeks since that awful morning. Seven weeks of silence and darkness. Seven weeks of broken dreams and false hope. Seven weeks of only one absolution: Leo had found his freedom. He wasn't coming back.

I pull out the photograph of our love just one more time as the tears gather once more in my eyes. Leo’s last words to me were ‘I love you;’ but somehow as I trace my fingers amongst the black and white print, I have to say, ‘goodbye’ for both of us this morning.

“Ms. Amaranth?”

“Yes, ma’am?” Madeleine wakes from her daydream, her voice trembling. She chews incessantly on her nails as her crossed legs bounce nervously. The sterile white walls around her seem to be closing in around her; the air grows thick, stifling. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

The dark brunette stands to come closer to the blonde. She straightens out her white coat while fixing an endearing smile on her face. She sits down next to Madeleine, taking her hand. “I asked if you are sure about this decision?”

If Madeleine had learned anything in the past two months, it's that she could only be sure about nothing. She stares at her bobbing toe, hypnotically entranced with the clicking of the clock in the exam room.

“There are other options," the doctor continues. "Adoption. Keeping the baby.”

I tear up the ultrasound picture in my hands, letting the wind chase it to the sea. The tattered pieces drift for a place to rest, sinking to the depths my soul will forever crave, a secret place far too precious for this world. For my world.

Goodbye, love.

***

Tag List (please please please let me know if you need to be added or removed!): @ao719 @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @dcbbw @forallthatitsworth @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @iaminlovewithtrr @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @phoenixrising308 @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @taniasethi @texaskitten30 @thefrenchiemama @twinkleallnight @yourmajesty09

#the royal romance #choices the royal romance #leo x madeleine #royal roulette #choices fanfiction #choices trr

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Note

i stumbled upon ur writing looking for lady d x non-binary reader fics and ur work has just been a godsend i’m obsessed. it’s inspired me to start writing my own even though i’ve never written for fandoms before. i’ve never written for other actual characters before either so i was wondering if u could spare any tips for writing for lady d and her daughters? 🙏🏻

I can certainly try! I'll divide the tips into lil sections for each characters. Might be less tips, more character observations that help me figure out how to write them? Putting under read-more for length. Also! If you ever want someone to look over what you write before you post it, I offer my services! I can't guarantee how fast I can respond, but I've been editing/proof-reading/giving general feedback for my friends for years, with everything from fanfiction to college level essays.

Alcina:

Large and in charge, literally. Regardless of the situation, Lady D wants to stay in control, or at least look like she's in control. Okay, minor exception being anything involving Mother Miranda, since she's the one person Lady D has any real respect for. Otherwise, Alcina maintains a good grasp on any situation, looking for ways to put herself in control.

For example, she often uses her height as a means to establish dominance, even within RE8 canon. If you watch a video of the Four Lords meeting, Alcina stands up once she starts arguing with Heisenberg, towering over him in an attempt to intimidate. We also see the aforementioned exception in this scene, as Lady D sort of "shrinks" a little when Miranda responds.

As much as Lady D wants to be in control, she's not always actually capable of it. In the game, we see her struggle to contain her emotions, and often releases them in outbursts. Such as the infamous vanity throwing scene (god I love that so much). It can provide some nice contrast in scenes, having Lady D be so in control one moment, then as soon as she's behind closed doors she's letting it all out.

Uses the most old-fashioned language out of her whole family. It's kind of hard to describe how one goes about writing this way, but I recommend trying to find some journals that were written in the early 1900's and reading them. Or just some classic novels (not Moby Dick, tho, that one's a bit much, in my opinion). One thing I can say is occasionally swap contractions (can't, don't, I've, etc) for the full version of the word (cannot, do not, I have, etc). Something about that always makes dialogue feel older, though I can't really explain why. Whatever you do, just don't rely too much on using synonyms. Replacing common words with their cousins can make dialogue feel "fancier", but you often run the risk of unintended connotations (feelings, positive or negative, associated with a word) messing with how a text is interpreted.

Puts up a front/facade around most people, as part of her noble background and need for control, with words like "stoic" and "composed" coming to mind. Very rough with troublemakers, no mercy. But!!! So very incredibly soft with her family/loved ones. I've seen some people accuse her of "faking" her love for her daughters, but these people either played a different game than I did, or they can't read emotions as well as I can. Gentle touches when she's checking if her kids are okay, little glances and gentle nods for reassurance, pausing a chase just to help her daughters, etc.

Bela:

Wants to make her mother proud. Legally obligated to make her mother proud, because she's the eldest daughter. Not that I know how that feels, being the younger of two children. Regardless, Bela is the most well behaved of the daughters, even when her mother isn't around. However, she does resent this position to some degree, based on in game dialogue/dialogue files that are in the game but aren't used. Personally, I see her as someone who's willing to let certain things go in exchange for favors/blackmail ammo.

Cleans up after her sisters a fair bit, sometimes literally. Feels responsible for them, to the point where their mistakes are her mistakes, and she's forced to compensate on their behalf. Because of this she ends up complaining a lot, though almost only when her family isn't around.

Still very protective of her family, she simply does most of her protecting behind the scenes. Knows how to manipulate a situation, which she probably learned from her mother, and can be quite convincing when she wants to be. Less likely to use violence to solve a problem than anyone else in the family. Will she use violence if need be, or if someone fucks up enough? Yes, absolutely, but she'll focus more on efficiency than misery (unless someone really fucks up).

Generally speaking she's more eloquent than either of her sisters, though not by much unless she's trying to impress someone (usually her mother).

Cassandra:

Two words: Angry. Horny. To her, they might as well be one word. Horngry. Cassandra struggles with her emotions more than either of her sisters, being a pressure cooker ready to pop basically all the time. It's not hard to set her off, but it can take ages for her to cool back down. Let's her frustration (of any variety) build up until she can bludgeon someone to death with it. Harshest on the servants, and spends the most time toying with others in the dungeon.

Like Bela, Cassandra wants to make her mother proud, but it's less of an obligation and more of a "I'm the middle child and feel like I don't get enough attention" type deal. Is more than willing to stoop to "tattle telling" activities in order to get the attention she craves. Usually sticks to obediently following her mother's orders or hunting down enemies, though.

Bit of an artsy type, and the most likely to take trophies from her victims. Gross ones, usually. Okay, well, that's debatable, but I'm talking about general consensus rather than my specific tastes. Personally, I don't care if she's got some weird blood paintings. Hell, I've got extra blood, and also am clumsy and bleed a lot anyway, she can have mine!

Hides her non-anger emotions as best as she can. Hates talking about her feelings (even if it helps), to the point where it's usually impossible to tell how she's feeling deep down. Remember, anger is a secondary emotion! No one is ever just angry, there's always something else hiding underneath, such as: Sadness, disappointment, loneliness, jealousy, etc. Keep this in mind when you're writing her. Make sure you pinpoint the center of her anger, and hint at it, letting her actions show her true goal.

Swears the most, easily. Tends to speak in shorter sentences than her sisters, and prefers being blunt to being eloquent/flowery.

Daniela:

Love, love, love, love, love, ahhhh deep breath... love. Loves love, or at least what she processes as love. Would do anything for romance. Except she also craves "natural" romance, creating a sort of paradox that adds to her delusions, as she engages in the pursuit of unintentional romance (not to be confused with "The Pursuit of Unintentional Humor", a song that I very, very much enjoy). Wants to be loved for who she is at the same time that she attempts to mold herself into a more lovable shape. Struggles with intimacy, wanting to feel vulnerable without actually being so.

On some level she understands that draining people of their blood, and then drinking said blood, is not equatable to a healthy relationship. But seeing as this is the most common form of supposed "intimacy" that she experiences, she refuses to acknowledge the true nature of what she does. Instead she clings to the idea of "forever bonding" with her partners, pretending that each one is still with her, even when she no longer remembers their names.

Hates being rejected, no matter how gently. "Ugly" cries, but only if she's alone, often turning her pain into anger, just like Cassandra. However, her outbursts don't seem to last as long. In reality, her breakdowns simply occupy the inside of her existence, rather than the outside. Sure, she's giggling and causing chaos, like usual, but on the inside she's breaking a record for most depressing internal monologue.

Reads a ton, but not always "quality" books. Goes through a dozen books or more a week, often rereading her favorites several times, mainly within the romance genre (obvs). This affects her speech a fair amount, making her both cheesy and occasionally smooth as hell.

#j says things #character study #don't wanna tag as tips cuz this is so specific to resident #resident evil

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sagamemes · 4 years

Text

critrole sentences starters --- shadow of the crystal palace. under the cut, you can find a total of 137 lines of dialogue from critical role’s call of cthulhu one-shot. as this contains both in and out of character sentences, there are options for modern and old timey or more eloquent muses alike. themes of the paranormal, heists, secret missions, light and darkness are sprinkled all around this sentence meme, but a good chunk is also usable by just about any muse. oh, and a lot of cat talk. as always, feel free to alter to fit your muse!

❝ good luck, may light and knowledge prevail. ❞

❝ consider your words heeded, sir. ❞

❝ hopefully, you can carry it. ❞

❝ i didn't have time to have it actually translated. if i recall, that's a review of the latest sailor moon musical. ❞

❝ she just wished me goodbye a minute ago in a text, i don't know what it means. ❞

❝ i want you in constant communication with us if you feel anything untoward, anything out of the ordinary at all. ❞

❝ we're not alone. ❞

❝ i imagine no one really wants to stay to hear the end of this speech. ❞

❝ could you try to enjoy this a little less? ❞

❝ are you? /are/ you getting it out of your system? or are you just getting started? ❞

❝ i'm more like a... tuning fork. ❞

❝ there are definite... bonuses to this little adventure. ❞

❝ what am i gonna do to you? ❞

❝ you're a good scientist who follows data. ❞

❝ most things that die in here, they never really leave. ❞

❝ perhaps we should try to get the thing that the rich guy wants? ❞

❝ i think we're doing more than just delivery. ❞

❝ i am a little worried about us getting discovered sneaking about here, though. ❞

❝ man was not meant to live within glass. ❞

❝ i'd say it's been fun but i'd be lying. ❞

❝ i suppose that's just a loss on the champagne then, isn't it? ❞

❝ poor [name]. i picked you especially for this. ❞

❝ we may be able to walks around unencumbered tonight. ❞

❝ my pants are exciting, just in the wrong way. ❞

❝ is there anything you /can/ do? fight? run? be prey? ❞

❝ you like to lead---after you. ❞

❝ it happens, you know. sometimes you shatter... artefacts. ❞

❝ i am so delighted that you are stuck here trying to find a lightswitch. ❞

❝ my kanji is at about second level. ❞

❝ bless your ignorance, child. ❞

❝ i do love a good poker. ❞

❝ have you ever tried to pull the sword, the excalibur sword, from the stone at disneyland? it's got just enough give to irritate a child for hours. i say---definitely not from /experience/. ❞

❝ i am here to make sure we're safe from threats on the other side. ❞

❝ it is for people such as ourselves to know. and then we protect the general public. ❞

❝ jesus, why am i following you people? ❞

❝ you can make the story a little less about him and a little more about you. ❞

❝ he's been very good to me. ❞

❝ i'm here to make sure this car stays on the rails, as it were. and to assist, of course. ❞

❝ i was concerned when i first met you. ❞

❝ is it pictures of all of our possessed bodies? ❞

❝ grant me my wish, make me big. ❞

❝ we're just gonna go to the cat room and we're just gonna hang out there for the whole time. ❞

❝ i believe it's better for the general public to believe your [writings/stories/tales] are fiction. ❞

❝ i'm beginning to think i'm the only one with any sense here. ❞

❝ i may be requesting your services again in the future. ❞

❝ it's just a little trinket from my country. ❞

❝ you need to know when to cut and run! look, i've got debt across europe but it's not worth dying over! ❞

❝ it's like a script you keep reciting from. ❞

❝ they wish to talk, in their own way. ❞

❝ care to place a wager? i'm feeling very confident. ❞

❝ nobody knows the value of a good redshirt anymore. ❞

❝ oh, fuck a duck, where are we going?! ❞

❝ i'm so confident, i will put 10% of my earnings from this job on the line. ❞

❝ i had my suspicions, you fraud. ❞

❝ what did you do to the light?! ❞

❝ mirrors are liars. they only show us what we expect to see. ❞

❝ i have some contingencies if things go wrong and will be waiting for your signal. ❞

❝ i mean, if you're looking at it from the right angle, you're just taking it back. ❞

❝ i fucking love cats, let's go. ❞

❝ did you learn /that/ at the [institute/school/etc]? ❞

❝ nothing to worry about, just go about your business! ❞

❝ [you're/he's] a shower away from pretty again. ❞

❝ they've never hurt me. ❞

❝ i've had a string of bad luck for a while. ❞

❝ we've been speaking to the other side for thousands of years. and our understanding evolves and changes with the passing of the years, but the core remains the same. ❞

❝ there's so much sexual tensioooon... ❞

❝ no one ever goes to a museum and reads the labels, it's really frustrating. ❞

❝ i would ask you to leave and never speak of this again. ❞

❝ oh, you fucking brilliant bastard. ❞

❝ you're not really a cat person, are you, [name]? ❞

❝ i know how that sounds, i know what i saw. ❞

❝ i got it the last time i went to russia. ❞

❝ mommy and daddy don't need to know about the necklace, though. ❞

❝ and i do hope we meet again sometime, [name], before the next time world needs saving. ❞

❝ wouldn't you agree that there are dark corners in this world, easier to find than the light? ❞

❝ well, /i/ don't like to toot my own horn, but if [name] will, i can't forbid him. ❞

❝ we're gonna take a moment to collect ourselves and have a stiff drink of something. ❞

❝ god, you look like a ghost, [name]. ❞

❝ i may be the one non-believer in the group. ❞

❝ it was certainly someone who looked like her. could've been anybody. ❞

❝ i was so looking forward to murdering the rest of you. ❞

❝ i didn't go to medical school, /period/. ph., not m.d. ❞

❝ just don't make too much trouble, alright? ❞

❝ you've been hand-picked for your skills. ❞

❝ i've actually read it as well. i think you sell yourself short. ❞

❝ your pants are more exciting than mine right now. ❞

❝ i feel like i should be haunting a house right now. ❞

❝ he was a problematic mess even by the standards of his time. ❞

❝ oh, you know, just little things you learn at finishing school. ❞

❝ you're not a useful doctor, are you? ❞

❝ honestly, i feel quite ignorant that i didn't put it together myself. ❞

❝ i'm an archivist, not an adventurer. ❞

❝ just repress! that! shit! ❞

❝ oh, no, i'm just so enamoured. we very rarely have the ability to socialise with such esteemed guests. ❞

❝ we might've fucking killed ourselves. ❞

❝ i think i'll have a nightlight for the rest of my life now. ❞

❝ i love a good potato clock though, i almost bought one. ❞

❝ my mum said i'm the most handsome boy is school. ❞

❝ [chuckling] that's a little mythology joke for you! ❞

❝ there's minimal security as long as you don't go into the upper floors. ❞

❝ what have they done to you? have they hurt you? ❞

❝ this is getting a bit rich for my taste. [insititute/workplace] does not pay /quite/ that well. ❞

❝ i believe you are more spot-on than perhaps you even realise. ❞

❝ we will come up with a good excuse for your back. there's shattered glass in there. ❞

❝ it's a bit... dizzying in here. does anyone else feel that? ❞

❝ you do not know what this has cost me. ❞

❝ he stole it. so i punched him in the face. ❞

❝ i'm a book doctor, not a blood doctor. ❞

❝ the idea of walking home in a mist without another living human being there nearly gave me a heart attack. ❞

❝ i'd like to thank you for your discretion. ❞

❝ it's a little less of the killing of the dragons and a little bit more of running for your bloody life. ❞

❝ some of us are just so sharp we could cut ourselves. ❞

❝ one more pitch to run for the fucking door. ❞

❝ he's a charlatan, isn't he? ❞

❝ the trouble with sacrificial magic is it requires sacrifice. ❞

❝ there's something about you they really don't like. ❞

❝ the only way we can protect ourselves is to know what we're protecting ourselves from. ❞

❝ it's a bit of a lark, isn't it? that's why i agreed. ❞

❝ i know about this. this is my design. and some /asshole/ put his name on it. ❞

❝ never owned a cat in my life. ❞

❝ i say this with as much honest and relative humility as i can: do i look like the sort of person that they would tell where the champagne is hiding? ❞

❝ he didn't go into medical school for you to call him /mister/ [name]. ❞

❝ you have an honest face. ❞

❝ it never hurts to be prepared, and i'm a big believer in being prepared. and i'm willing to spend on it. ❞

❝ look you were very worried about this chest; we opened it, it's fine! ❞

❝ we will never see each other again. ❞

❝ we're all just reaching for the same truth and describing it in different ways, i imagine. ❞

❝ the things i've seen you wouldn't want to wish on your worst nightmares. ❞

❝ take a lantern, you piece of shit. ❞

❝ he wrote some very, very nice reviews of the best gay brothels of japan when he would walk around. and a pamphlet on farting. ❞

❝ [suggestively] well, if you're looking for a /heat source/... ❞

❝ few things in this world are not somewhat haunted. this, i believe, is very. ❞

❝ do you know that they invented an electrical device in japan in 1776? ❞

❝ i would really run. ❞

❝ i'm sorry, did you say ' paid off the judges ' ? ❞

❝ it burns like acid. ❞

#rp meme #rp sentence starters #sentence starters #sentence meme #rp sentence meme #* sentences.#* meme.#i did not expect the eldrich horror content sentence meme to somehow possibly the least triggering in here but-

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starcountesseevee · 3 years

Text

A Rocket Coincidence (Part 26)

Part 25 / Part 27

Kali was pacing excitedly around the kitchen, it was Monday and Cliff was finally back in town after what felt like forever. While he had “work stuff” -his words- during the day they had already made plans for the evening and Kali couldn't wait. Mara had insisted that Kali take today off but she found herself actually kind of wishing she was working just so that the time would go faster. The sound of Mara’s bedroom opening alerted Kali and she looked over with a grin as Mara came into the kitchen.

“Good morning!”

"I thought I smelled bacon." Mara plopped down. “You’re certainly in a good mood. And up early.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kali beamed. “Although, that’s the last of the bacon so I'll probably run out to the store today, need anything else while I'm out?"

"Yeah I think we're low on patience, too. Think you can pick some of that up?" Mara teased as she made up a plate for herself.

"Oh hush. I'm plenty patient."

"Says the girl who's been counting the days...nay hours until today."

"Okay so I've just been a little excited to see my boyfriend, is that a crime?"

"Ahh to be young and in love…" Mara batted her eyelashes at Kali and threw her hand across her forehead dramatically.

"I...don't know about all that." Kali mumbled as she felt her cheeks flush.

"Sure you don’t.” Mara rolled her eyes as she passed Kali to head back to her bedroom. “But everyone else does. And by everyone else I mean me. I'll be at the studio if you need me!" She called back, cutting off any further argument Kali could have had. Love, Kali thought to herself with a scoff. Mara didn’t know what she was talking about.

Kali checked the time again as she headed down Skiploom Street. It wasn’t even noon yet and a trip to the store wasn’t going to waste the hours she had until this evening so she decided to take a longer walk and scan some Pokestops to maybe get her mind off the time. It had also been a while since she’d been able to stock up on some supplies and she would need the coins to do that anyway. Most Pokestops in the city only gave five to ten coins a day so getting a decent amount to spend was a job but there was one just around the next corner that Kali was pretty sure gave twenty.

“Hey,” Zeke nudged his co-trainee, Bradley, as he saw a red-headed girl with a pokeball dangling from her belt turn the corner. “Looks like she might be a trainer, guess we’ll get to show off to the boss after all.” He thought he had said it low enough but Cliff overheard from where he was leaning and rolled his eyes. They weren’t here to show off, they were here to do a job, he thought as he scanned through his emails from the weekend. Their training was over and this was supposed to be their first time out on their own, Cliff was just there to make sure their training paid off but so far he wasn’t impressed.

“Yeah she’s cute too, maybe I’ll get her to bet on more than just leaving when I win.” Both boys chuckled. Cliff frowned at that, he didn’t support that kind of talk. Another tick in the unimpressed box, he thought as he paid a little more attention to what was going on to make sure they didn’t start harassing whoever it was.

“What do we have here?” Zeke stepped forward taking the lead. Kali sighed as she spotted the two. Of course she would run into a Grunt here she thought as she questioned whether or not she felt like battling or turning around.

“Looks like a little troublemaker.” Bradley chimed in, mimicking Zeke by crossing his arms as well. Kali raised a brow and glanced between them. She had been considering backing down but “troublemaker”? What were they, five?

“Really? That’s the best you’ve got? Did you forget to pick up your brains this morning with your uniform?” Kali quipped and Cliff’s head shot up, he knew that voice.

“Hey, watch what you say, you’re messing with Team Rocket you know!” A sudden firm hand on his shoulder caused Zeke to turn around. Kali couldn’t hide the look of surprise on her face as Cliff pushed his way between the two grunts with a smirk.

“So these two idiots are yours?”

“They’re a work in progress.” They began to protest but one look from Cliff had them retreat a few steps and he turned back to Kali. “This is a nice surprise.” He said low enough for only her to hear. As much as he might have wanted to pull her in for a kiss right there he didn’t want to presume that she wanted their relationship status publicized, especially not in front of others from Team Rocket. And he was on the job. But mostly the first reason.

“It is.” She smiled coyly at him. “So that means you’re going to let me go scan that pokestop, right?” Cliff opened his mouth to answer but immediately shut it. There was no way he could just let her waltz right by with Zeke and Bradley watching. Not only would he look weak but they would probably go back to base and tell people he broke the rules. Kali must have read his silence correctly; when he glanced back at her she was eyeing him with a look that said are you really thinking about doing this? Okay so maybe challenging his girlfriend wasn’t the best idea but on the other hand maybe it was about time they had a battle.

“I think you know how this works, the only way you’re getting by is battling first.”

“Seems like a silly rule, but okay. Which one of those kids do you want me to trounce?”

“Neither, I think it’s about time we faced off don’t you?”

“Oh?” Kali held his gaze for a long moment. “Alright, if you’re so ready to get your butt kicked so be it.”

“I don’t think that’s how this is gonna go. But I’ll tell you what, I’ll even go easy on ya.”

“You can, but I won’t.” Kali could practically taste the tension hanging in the air between them. Cliff had a bit of an advantage as he had seen her battle before but she was pretty confident she could win regardless. And now that she had said it there was no backing down.

Cliff could hear the two idiots, as Kali so eloquently put it, behind him snickering something along the lines of “she’s gonna get her butt whooped” and had an idea that would probably shut them up. “How about we up the stakes then? If I win you have to go on a date with me.” He kept his expression neutral as he heard the two guys gasp behind them.

Kali bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, he was trying to show off in front of those kids wasn’t he? “And what if I already have a boyfriend?” She decided to play along.

“I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“I dunno, he’s a pretty big guy. Tough. I don’t think he’d like his girl making such deals with another man.” Kali stood her ground as Cliff took a few steps closer and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Maybe he is, dollface, but so am I.” He winked.

“Tell you what if you win, and that’s a pretty big if, I’ll think about it. But….” She glanced behind him to the QR code a little further down the street and decided on a term of her own. “If I win you have to abandon this pokestop and can’t block it off ever again.” She looked back at him challengingly.

“What?” Cliff frowned, fighting the urge to turn around and yell at the peanut gallery behind them, and lowered his voice before continuing. “That’s not something I can promise, doll.”

“Then don’t lose.” Kali smirked and reached for a pokeball before proclaiming loudly to get this match started, ending any further arguments on the matter. "Standard match I presume? Last one standing out of three?" She questioned as she racked her brain for any time Cliff had mentioned pokemon so she could pick a starter. If she remembered correctly he had mentioned Tyranitar and maybe Onyx and Torterra as well, all of which were rock types. Maybe there was something there.

“Right.” This had suddenly gone from playful banter to something a little more serious. He was a Leader with Team Rocket, there was no way he could just promise to not do his job. Didn’t she understand that? Not that he was going to lose.

“Ready when you are.” Both of them tossed pokeballs forward at the same time. Kali had chosen Clover, her Leafeon, gambling on her rock type theory. Her choice paid off as an Omanyte appeared across from her. Perfect. “Razor Leaf!” She tried getting the upper hand with a first move but Cliff was just as quick to have his Omanyte attack, but Mud Shot wasn’t going to do much against her grass type.

“Dodge!” Cliff was cursing inwardly as Kali’s Leafeon hopped swiftly around his slower Omanyte getting in far more hits than he would have liked. Within moments it was apparent that his Omanyte was outmatched and he swore under his breath as he was forced to return it. The two Grunts snickered.

Kali grinned as Clover returned to stand anxiously in front of her for Cliff’s second choice. By the look on his face he was not as amused as she was. “Alright, what’s next?” She murmured to her Leafeon as he tossed forward another ball. It was clearly something large, Kali thought as the pokemon began to take shape in front of her before becoming recognizable as an Electivire. Alright, so maybe her theory was wrong but an electric type wasn’t a huge obstacle and her Leafeon hadn’t taken much damage from the Omanyte anyway. At Cliff's command the large yellow pokemon charged forward, electric energy cracking between the two antennas on the top of its head. "Clover, dodge!" Her Leafeon jumped aside but not quickly enough and a jolt of electricity hit its hindquarters causing it to stumble. It quickly recovered as Kali called for it to use Razor Leaf again. The larger pokemon took the hits as it shot a few more bolts of electricity at Clover who managed to dodge most of them.

"Use Thunder Punch!" Cliff called with a grin, he might have had a rough start but the match was turning back around in his favor. The Electivire charged at Kali's Leafeon again, this time gripping its tail to get more of a charge on its attack.

"Hold and use Energy Ball!" Pulling this move off meant that Clover would most likely take the full force of the Electivire's attack but it should also be enough to knock out the opponent as well. The leaf shaped sprout on its head began to glow white as a green ball of energy started forming in front of its open mouth. “Now!” Kali called as soon as the Electivire got close enough and the ball of energy shot forward into the other pokemon’s chest but just like Kali had predicted it was able to hit Clover too, both pokemon skid backwards and were spent. As she returned Clover she made a mental note to make sure it got extra treats later.

“Dammit!” Cliff swore under his breath as he was forced to return his second pokemon. He had hoped to get Electivire’s charged attack in before it got hit but it was too slow. The smug look on Kali’s face was only fueling the well of anger rising in his chest, he couldn’t lose in front of two trainees! He had an example to set!

“I thought he was supposed to be tough.” Zeke whispered to Bradley but not quietly enough and his eyes went wide as Cliff rounded on him.

“One more word out of you two and it’s desk duty for a month!”

Two down, one to go. Kali took out her second pokeball as Cliff reached for his third. She wasn’t about to let up and chose her Vaporeon, Lyra, who was arguably her strongest Eeveelution. She was very much relieved when she saw Cliff’s selection, a Tyranitar. They had plenty of training against this particular pokemon after training with Cole so Kali knew she wouldn’t have to give Lyra much direction as they had a tried and true strategy.

“Water gun!” Lyra jumped into action sending small but quick jets of water at the Tyranitar that was advancing. Its stubby arms swatted away at some of the jets as it went in for an attack and Lyra just managed to jump out of the way of its teeth, although Kali had to admit Cliff’s was much faster than the one Cole had.

“Use Iron Tail!” The large green creature swung around deftly as its tail began to glow white and before Lyra could jump out of the way its tail crashed into her Vaporeon’s side. Cliff wasted no time in having his Tyranitar attack again as the Vaporeon got back on its feet.

“Dodge!” Lyra obeyed and before Kali could call for another attack she was already shooting more jets of water at the Tyranitar, she seemed angry that it had gotten a hit in on her and was retaliating in full force. “Yes, go girl!”

That Vaporeon was too damn fast. Changing strategies Cliff shouted for his pokemon to use Stone Edge, hopefully this would give him the upper hand again. Turning to face its opponent the Tyranitar slammed its hands onto the street and a wave of rock pillars shot towards Lyra causing her to stumble as she scurried to avoid them. “Quick, Iron Tail while its recovering!” But Lyra wasn’t falling for that again and shot a quick jet of water at the Tyranitar’s face to distract it before moving swiftly behind it.

“Hydro Pump!” Kali practically yelled with excitement. Before Cliff’s pokemon could react Lyra opened her mouth and a large, forceful jet of water slammed into the Tyranitar’s back causing it to crash forward into the ground.

“Get up, dammit!” To the creature’s credit it did try to but wound up slumping back down onto the pavement defeated.

“Yes!” Kali cheered as she recalled her Vaporeon. “Told you I’d win.”

“What the hell?!" Her elation was short lived as Cliff stormed towards her with a scowl.

"What the hell, what?" She glared back at him, why was he so angry about this? This was certainly new, was he really that big of a sore loser?

"There's no way you should have been able to beat me with just a couple of Eeveelutions!"

"Excuse me?! Just what is that supposed to mean?" A hot spark of anger flared in her chest as her hands clenched into fists at her side.

"It means I shouldn't have lost to a...to a pipsqueak like you! You’re not even on a Team!"

“Pipsqueak!? Did you forget who you’re talking to?” Kali glared up at him, she wasn’t going to show it but the not being on a Team comment stung more than the name calling. She was clearly just as good as anyone else regardless of not being on a Team and he knew it.

Cliff took a deep breath as he met her furious gaze. “No…” He relented a little and lowered his voice before continuing. “But really, you had to beat me in front of my trainees?”

“I told you I wasn’t going to go easy! I’m not going to lose just so you can show off!” Stars, she was angry. “You know what, forget this.” Kali spun on her heels and stalked off towards the corner.

“Kali, wait!” Cliff jogged after her, catching up right before she reached it. “Babe look I-”

“Save it.” One look told Cliff he should probably back off for now.

“Alright, we’ll talk later then.” He replied weakly as she walked off. It was probably better to wait until they both had a chance to cool off anyway.

Part 25 / Part 27

A huge shout out to @rubystartrail for always being willing to chat through writer’s block! And to @nenalata for being an avid reader!

#cliff pokemon go #pokemon go cliff #pokemon go #pokemon go fanfiction #leader cliff #Team rocket cliff #team go rocket #eeveelution

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theatrelove3000 · 4 years

Text

Nightmares

I don’t know how many people are actually going to read this, but if you are, Hi! I am a writer that doesn’t post my work publicly. I recently talked to another writer, @thelokiimaginechronicles who was kind enough to take time out of her day to read some of my work and encourage me to post it. I have decided to do so. This is my first time posting my Loki/OC anywhere so I hope whoever is reading it likes it!

This is an established relationship so there isn’t a slow burn or anything like that.

Summary: Noelle has a nightmare and her lover, Loki comforts her. (I got the idea of this fic from a video on youtube of Tom Hiddleston reading poetry. This is the link to that video if you’re interested. Video of Tom reading

Nightmares

3rd Person:

It is dark. Very dark. Noelle’s eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, enough to make out shapes in the gloom. Something moves out of the corner of her eye and she automatically moves to grab the dagger at her hip only to realize that it’s gone. She tries not to panic as she scans the area surrounding her.

“Hello?” She calls into the nothingness, “Hello?”

From the distance, a figure moves forth, coming towards her.

“Who’s there? Where am I?”

She receives no response but the being is getting closer.

Her eyes move about her surroundings. Where is her dagger?

She had only been looking down for a moment when she looked back up to see the advancing figure standing right in front of her. She couldn’t make out a face, for the being was shrouded in a dark cloak that covered it from head to foot. She didn’t know that she was screaming until she bolted upright in bed.

Noelle POV:

“Shit,” I whisper to myself. I pull my knees up to my chest and count my breaths, trying to pull myself back together.

“Goddamn it.” I throw the silky purple sheets of my bed back and pull on a thin cardigan to protect me from the cool night air. Before I know what I’m doing, I am walking through the castle in my nightgown and sweater, barefoot. I don’t really think about where I am going until I get there.

I open the door to the library and go right to Loki’s desk. I knew he was there, he usually is, and sure enough, he turns in his chair, sensing my arrival. He is bent over his desk, reading some large volume he must have pulled off the bookshelves hours ago, as he is halfway through it.

He looks over his shoulder at me with a smirk teasing his lips. I must have looked freaked out because his slight smile turned to a confused look then a frown as he stood and met me halfway to him.

The sight of him made me start picking up my pace until I was running straight into his waiting arms.

“Hush, Noelle, hush. What is the matter? Are you alright?” I didn’t realize I was crying until he pulled away to hold my face, running his thumbs along my cheeks, catching the falling tears.

I just nod then, realizing that I’m clearly not, shake my head and bury my face in his chest. He nods and wraps his arms tightly, almost protectively, around me again.

He picks me up gently and I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck hiding my face in his shoulder. He walks us both over to the sofa in the middle of the Royal Library and sits down, keeping me on his lap.

We hold onto each other tightly as he let’s me cry on his shoulder, stroking my hair and whispering reassurances to me. “It will be alright, love. I’m right here. You are alright.”

I start babbling nonsense about when I remembered from the dream. Dark cloaks and my missing dagger. How dark it was. He sits there patiently, telling me I am safe and he won’t let anything happen to me.

I don’t know how long we sat like this. All I know is I am exhausted. Loki seems to know this and moves me off his lap, laying me down across the sofa with my head in his lap.

“Do you wish to tell me about it?” He asked gently, playing with my hair. I shake my head. I do not want to relive that nightmare.

He nods and continues to play with my hair. He hums quietly, soothing me even more.

“I found a book I think you will enjoy. I can read to you if you would like,” his velvet voice drawls quietly to me. I nod and start to sit up, expecting him to stand up to retrieve the book but he puts a hand on my shoulder, keeping me in my place. I cock an eyebrow at him and he waves his hands theatrically, making the book appear out of thin air.

“Showoff.” I mutter and he chuckles, opening the book, beginning to read quietly.

“The time will come

when, with elation

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror

and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.”

He pauses for a moment, looking to see if I was awake before continuing,

“Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life.”

He finishes the poem and flips a few pages, searching for another one he likes. I watch him. His beautiful face is shaded by candlelight. His cheekbones high and sharp, jawline that could cut someone. Piercing emerald green eyes that melt my soul. He was too beautiful for any Midgardian to see completely. I was lucky enough to be half Asgardian and am able to enjoy his beauty completely.

He finds the next poem and begins again,

“Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove.

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wand'ring bark,

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle’s compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me prov’d,

I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.”

By the end, I am reciting it with him without even looking at the words. He looks down at me again with a smile and a questioning eyebrow.

“I recognize it. It’s my favorite Sonnet by William Shakespeare. He wrote hundreds of them.” I explain how my father had given me a book of sonnets for Christmas when I was 10, just before he returned to Asgard.

“Interesting,” he says softly,“This is a book of Midgardian poetry so it does not surprise that you know the author. I suppose I wasn’t expecting you to know the Sonnet.”

I smile lightly, feeling more tired listening to him speak, hearing the pages of the book being turned, the heat from the fire a few feet away. I know I won’t last much longer.

Loki POV:

She was falling asleep. I resolve to read her a few more to sooth her. She was very panicked when she got here, but she seems to have calmed down.

I flip through the book again, glancing down at her every now and then to see if she is still awake. She is, just staring into the fire.

Finding another poem that I find entertaining I begin to read aloud,

“may i feel said he

(i’ll squeal said she

just once said he)

it’s fun said she

(may i touch said he

how much said she

a lot said he)

why not said she

(let’s go said he

not too far said she

what’s too far said he

where you are said she)

may i stay said he

which way said she

like this said he

if you kiss said she

may i move said he

is it love said she)

if you’re willing said he

(but you’re killing said she

but it’s life said he

but your wife said she

now said he)

ow said she

(tiptop said he

don’t stop said she

oh no said he)

go slow said she

(cccome?said he

ummm said she)

you’re divine!said he

(you are Mine said she)” I look down again as I finish the piece and see she is still gazing into the fire, though her cheeks have flushed a bit from the words of the poem. That is the result I had hoped for from reading it.

I begin looking through the book again, looking for one more. One more and she will be asleep, I tell myself. It is not that I do not like reading out loud, especially to Noelle, I love it, in fact; I am just tired as well and wish to go to bed myself.

“She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o’er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express,

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!” I glance down at the beautiful woman in my lap and see she is asleep. I grin a bit at the sight. She looks so peaceful and happy when she sleeps.

It is only then that I think my decision through: allowing her to fall asleep on a sofa in the library, knowing that I either have to carry her to her room or teleport which would be incredibly dangerous. Letting her sleep here in the library is not an option either; what if someone comes in to find her alone here or has another nightmare? No. We cannot have that.

I decide that I could take her to my room, have her sleep there with me where I can be close if she needs me.

I let her sleep for a bit longer to ensure that she is truly asleep before slipping my arm around her back, the other under her knees. I gently move her until she is sitting in my lap the way she was before I began to read to her.

From there I stand up, realizing how tired I was as well. I could feel the weight of the day in my shoulders and legs and resolve to walk to my room rather than teleport. I do not want to injure myself, let alone Noelle.

I begin walking through the empty halls of the castle, Noelle fast asleep in my arms, her own wrapped around my neck instinctively.

My chambers are not far from the library so it was not a long walk. I unlock and open the door with a flicker of my fingers and light some candles with another movement. Magic is very helpful at times like this. I kick the door shut with my heel and make my way over to my large canopy bed. I lay my love down and begin to undress myself, leaving my pants on because I am a gentleman who does not take advantage of women in moments of weakness.

I crawl into bed after her and cover us both with the deep green sheets. I try not to disturb her but when she begins tossing and turning, I pull her to my chest. I roll so that I’m on my back with her tucked under my right arm, her head resting on the place my arm and shoulder connect to the rest of my body. She calms instantly and immediately, her hands move so one covers mine on her waist, almost like she is keeping my there, the other resting on my chest above my heartbeat.

I listen to her breathing, slow and steady and peaceful. It had been a long time since I slept in the same bed as another person and I would being lying if I said that I did not miss it. The soothing sound of her breathing that told me that she was alright, the heat radiating from our bodies warming the bed faster than one could do on their own.

I fall asleep soon after she does, the sound and feel of her comforting all the anxiety that usually keeps me up at night.

#loki x oc #nightmare #comforting #reading

21 notes · View notes

talpup · 4 years

Text

Light In the Darkness

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, eventual sexual behavior, and other possible triggers.

***If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887595/chapters/51852043

10.1

The three Magic Knights exited the cafe relishing the fresh cool night air outside. Teris was startled by the figure standing on the other side of the patio’s enclosure, but quickly realized it was a creation of Commander Greywright’s army magic keeping passerby's at bay.

She looked over her squad members and the Silver Eagles noting the tension between the groups, each squad sitting on opposite sides of the small fenced enclosure.

“Glad to see you haven’t kill any one.” Teris praised the Black Bulls, only half jesting.

“Only just.” Olsen confessed, eyeing Neyres and Margery. “You would think that as royal ladies those two wouldn’t have such vial tongues; but they’re worse than a drunk cutthroat, only they use far more eloquent words.”

“I could’ve warned you about Neyres.” Teris said quietly to him, glancing in the royal girls direction. “Don’t know about the other; but, I suppose one’s bound to pick up things when in Neyres’ circle.”

Margery went to Nozel wrapping her arms around his left one. “I know we’re not suppose to talk about it, but please tell me those two Black Bulls didn’t get you in trouble.”

Nozel glanced over Margery’s head at Teris, wordlessly suffering Margery's fawning.

“When I saw Danior come out and not you, I feared the worst. Didn’t I say I feared for Nozel, Neyres?” Margery said, looking at her friend.

“That you did.” Neyres sighing, bored.

Unable to stand it any more, Nozel pulled his arm free and stepped between Danior and Neyres seeking shelter from Margery’s attention.

“I am still a Magic Knight aligned with the Silver Eagles.” Was all Nozel said on the matter. “Can we change the subject before that is no longer true for any of us.”

“His Highness is right.” Neyres said, violet eyes dancing with amusement. “Does anyone have any celebratory plans for the Star Awards Festival?”

“No.” Abril answered from the Black Bulls side.

“One would have to have something to celebrate in order to have celebratory plans.” Neyres smiled, condescendingly.

Abril put her hands on her hips. “Meaning what?”

Neyres shrugged as if the answer was evident.

“Don’t engage the mean spirited pretty ladies.” Olsen told Abril.

“The what?” Danior demanded.

Even Nozel looked at Olsen in disapproval.

Raising his hands, Olsen said. “If you take issue with my saying they’re mean spirited you are either blind and deaf or don’t know your comrades all that well.”

“Not that,” Danior growled. “The other bit.”

Venice scoffed at Danior’s idiocy; while Teris cringed, sure where this would surely lead.

Abril gave a snorting laugh. “You just agreed they were mean.”

“Do you not agree that they are pretty?” Olsen asked. He leaned forward and whispered loudly, as if imparting wisdom. “Even if you find them hideous, a true gentleman would never admit as much to a lady. Didn’t your finishing instructors teach you as much? Or, as a lower noble, could you not afford one?”

Danior took out his grimoire causing Olsen to reach for his should he need it to defend himself. Nozel stood in front of Danior. Teris placed a hand on Olsen’s shoulder. Olsen relaxed dropping his hand from the leather case that hung from the side of his hip.

“Put it away.” Nozel ordered Danior.

“But he--”

“And what will come of your escalation?” Nozel questioned. “Think.” He muttered in disgust turning away and back to Olsen and Teris.

“Olsen’s a flirt.” Teris said by way of apology. “He means nothing by it.”

“Yeah,” Venice agreed. “He’s already dating his true love. Though he refuses to tell us who she is.”

Olsen smiled at Venice’s sullen look.

Teris looked over to two Silver Eagles girls. “Either don’t read too much into it or take the boost to your ego. Not that you need it.” To Nozel, she admonished. “Control your comrades.”

“Me?” Nozel questioned, heatedly.

“I mean I know that Neyres and Danior out rank you,” Teris allowed. “But you’re the royal male. Isn’t that what you believe you’re suppose to do? Have everything and everyone under your control.”

Nozel stared at her feeling angry and bitter. She was being unfair. His need to restrain those around him and be overly disciplined himself was because of his father’s expectations of him as heir. It wasn’t as if he had a choice.

Nozel’s teeth clenched, eyes slitting as his cool glare intensified. “It is you who should attempt controlling that menagerie of dirty, uncivilized, foul mouthed--”

“You don’t want to finish that thought,” Teris warned.

“--pack of wild beasts masquerading as Magic Knights.” He looked her over, his lip curling in revulsion at the thought of his Intended being part of such a group. “Not that you could if you tried. Even your own Captain can barely manage that lot. Though he’s not much better spoken or behaved.”

The other Black Bulls made for him with the Silver Eagles moving to defend their own. Teris held up an opened hand to Nozel. Seeing the glow both the Bulls and Eagles stopped. Feeling heat and pressure from her begin to push him back, Nozel adjusted his stance and dug in his heels.

Yami stepped back, watching, and waited. He knew that if he got near Teris something bad and uncontrollable would happen as their heightened mana caused a reaction with each others.

Nozel squinted as the brightness as the light grew, wincing slightly in pain as the pressure and heat intensified. The hem and trim of his clothes began to scorch filling his nostrils with their burning smell. Still, Nozel refused to act to defend himself. As angry as he had been at her, he would never do anything that might harm Teris physically. That was why he had always lost to her during their sparring sessions. At least that’s what he had comforted his ego with.

He had expected his words to anger her. That had been the point of it. To wound whatever pride she had in the Black Bulls. But he hadn’t realized just how much she cared; not just for the squad in name but for the members that made up the Bulls. It was a miscalculation on his part and his was willing to stand there and put her care for him to the test against it.

Arm trembling Teris slowly relaxed. The light, heat, and pressure dying as her fingers curled into a loose fist. Her arm dropped and so did everyone's tension.

Nozel released the breath he had been holding. She had stopped and his doubts had ceased along with her building magic. She truly did care about him.

“We’re through.” Teris panted, out of breath from trying to control herself.

“What!” Nozel asked, in shocked disbelief.

“We’re through,” Teris repeated. “Whatever small accord we may have had is over. Do not pay me call or write. Do not presume upon our mutual friendship with Fuegoleon, or anything else.” She said, hating that she had to refer to the intentions of their families to see them wed. “Don’t even speak to me unless you have to.”

“Teris.” Nozel whispered, unable to believe the turn of events. How could she-- How dare she belittle their friendship down to a mere mutual attachment to Fuegoleon.

“That’s more than fine with us.” Margery said, stepping beside Nozel and wrapping an arm around his.

“You never were very good at being a royal.” Neyres agreed, joining them at Nozel’s other side. “Good luck being ostracized from polite society. Hope you find your dirty peasants worth it.”

“They’re not dirty and I already do,” Teris said.

Neyres looked the Black Bulls over giving a tittering laugh when Abril tried to hide her filthy hands behind her back, and Tobin quickly brushed the crumbs of food off his shirt. It was pointless since Abril did nothing about the dirt on her neck and cheeks, and Tobin didn’t notice the food trapped within his beard.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Neyres said. “You may grow to believe. Or worse turn into them.”

“You lie with pigs, you become a pig.” Danior warned joining the line of Silver Eagles. He looked at Margery’s arm laced through Nozel and attempted to loop his through hers.

“What are you doing?” Margery whispered harshly, pulling away from him.

“Oh. Sorry. I thought we were linking arms in solidarity or something,” Danior apologized.

Margery wrinkled her nose. “Not with you.”

Having recovered from his shock, if not his hurt, Nozel ordered. “Enough. Return to your seats and let’s try to forget about their presence while we wait for Captain Pyter.”

“A difficult task given the smell of them but we shall endeavor to try.” Neyres said, turning away.

Danior and Margery quickly followed the platinum haired royal.

Nozel caught sight of Tobin rising an arm to sniff himself. Giving a huff of disdain he quickly tried to think of something to say to Teris that would fix this. He looked to her only to find she had turned her back and was already walking away.

“Try to be more civil when our families met again to further discuss things.” Nozel called after her, immediately cursing himself for making matters worse.

Teris turned. Nozel’s eyes widened certain that he had gone too far in mentioning their eventual betrothal and that she was going to send him to the healing mages.

Yami took a step forward to stop her from doing something he knew she’d eventually regret; but feeling her rising mana took two more back, cursing his insecurity in his ability to control his mana’s thirst for hers. He gritted his teeth battling his own mana as it fought to be released from his restraining hold.

“Wow! There beautiful.” Olsen said, grabbing Teris’ arm before she could lift it. He turned her toward the Black Bulls. “We’ve had our fill of the mass of food you all left. What do you say we save fired eagle for another day? Hum.”

Yami breathed a sigh of relief.

Olsen gave Yami a wink and told him. “I got your lady for you.”

It was likely everything leading up to this point that set Nozel off. Olsen’s flippant comment, and Yami nodding his thanks to the Water Mage sure didn’t help. But, it was Teris’ silence at being called the foreigners lady that truly did it. After she had belittled their friendship, never mind how tremulous it sometimes was. And then, without thought or hesitation ended said friendship as if believing what they had could be so easily ended.

Gathering his mana, Nozel lashed out at Yami with his mercury magic.

Yami landed several meters away, outside the patios fencing.

Rolling to a stop he groaned, wincing. The royal ball of pride had power, Yami begrudgingly thought to himself.

Yami wasn’t certain what shape he would’ve been in if Nozel’s Ki hadn’t told him what the royal was about to do. He was just grateful that the tell had given him a chance to partially cloak himself in mana before the magical blow came.

Yami rolled to sit up. Instantly regretting the movement, he laid back down. Damn. He knew this feeling. His ribs were cracked. But this was way worse than when Bronn had cracked them during his second night at the Black Bulls base.

Man, that seemed like ages ago. Yami wondered how the Vice Captain would react. He didn’t want their superiors to know, and he would shield Nozel as best he could cause that’s what real men did. But, he couldn’t see how they would get around the higher ranking Magic Knights learning that something had happened.

On the patio Teris had turned, feeling a rise in Nozel’s mana; but had realized too late that the royals magical attack wasn’t meant for her.

“Yami!” Teris had called, just as Nozel’s strike had hit and Yami had gone flying. “Yami.” She said again, this time in a whisper.

Teris made for the gate, the rest of the Black Bulls doing the same. They had only taken a step before men, formed of Greywright’s army magic, appeared between and surrounding the two squads.

“Mother of Mana and Magic! What the hell is going on here!” The Knights Commander bellowed as he and the Captains exited the cafe.

After a moment of silence, Tobin offered an explanation that sounded more like a question. “Having a bit of fun?”

“Fun,” Greywright repeat.

“Ye—yeah,” Olsen nodded, warming to the fabrication. It just might work as it couldn’t be refuted no matter how much their superiors might disbelieve them. All they had to do was sell it and deny any different.

Bronn jumped the fence to check on Yami, muttering curses the entire time. Olsen, who still held Teris, had to tightened his grip to keep her from following the Vice Captain.

“We got bored just sitting here and, not familiar with each others magic, decided a demonstration was an order,” Olsen said.

“A demonstration,” Greywright intoned.

Teris pulled further against Olsen in an effort to once again make for Yami. Tobin and Venice came to assist. Tobin grabbed Teris’ hand and spun her around, as if dancing, before he and Venice tossed their arms over her shoulders.

“That was some impressive stuff.” Venice told Nozel, an over large smile plastered on her face. “That was mercury magic wasn’t it! I’ve never seen the like.”

With too much left to do, Greywright didn’t have the time or inclination to deal with this and so let them have their lie.

“No more demonstrations.” The Commander said, piercing each and every one of them with a glare.

“You got it,” Tobin saluted.

“Pyter. Jax. Get your people back to your bases.” Greywright ordered.

“You’re just going to take their word.” Pyter challenged, gesturing to the Black Bulls.

Greywright turned to the Silver Eagles Captain. “Considering it was their comrade that was thrown more than dozen meters by one of yours, I don’t see a reason for them to lie. But if you wish, we will stay and I’ll look into it. Do you want that, Captain?”

At that Pyter sobered. “No, sir.”

“Are you sure? I could separate and hear what each of them has to say if you wish,” Greywright offered.

“That won’t be necessary, sir.” Pyter assured, giving the Knights Commander one of his winning smiles.

“Got an issue with taking your squads word and seeing them back to base, Jax?” Greywright asked, looking over his shoulder at the Black Bulls Captain.

Jax, who had been watching Yami and Bronn, turned to the Magic Knights Commander. The kid appeared injured enough to require a nights stay at the healing mages, but otherwise fine. He scrutinized Nozel wondering what had been said or done to make the royal loose control and lash out like that. Granted there had been numerous occasions where Jax had wanted to crush Yami with his stone magic... The boy could be a trying little shit. But to actually give into the urge and act on it?

Nozel waited, eyes lowered, certain that the Black Bulls Captain was going to challenge the matter and demand to know what really happened. He wondered if he would be discharged from the Magic Knights for his attack. He could feel Teris’ hate filled eyes boring into him and knew that any hope he had at rectifying what their heated words had wrought was long past.

“Nozel,” Pyter said. “Apologize to Captain Jax and the Black Bulls for over doing your magic demonstration.”

“That’s not necessary.” Jax said, waving Pyter and Nozel off. “Bronn’s done worst to the boy I’m sure.”

Teris’ eyes flicked to her Captain, displeasure clearly showing on her face. Venice squeezed her friends shoulder certain that Teris was going to demand Nozel’s head and in doing so get herself in trouble. Thankfully none of their superiors had seemed to notice the scorch marks along the edges of Nozel’s clothing.

“Excellent.” Greywright said, to which everyone looked at him curiously wondering if the Knights Commander was referring to Yami having had a tougher go of it at Bronn’s hand or the dismissal of the current matter. “Everyone get going. Not you.” Greywright said to Julius as the Azure Deers Captain turned away.

“I was going to--”

“Come with me back inside.” Greywright finished.

Julius looked over at Bronn and Yami hoping the young Magic Knight was truly alright.

“Now!” Greywright barked.

Julius flinched slightly and hurried indoors.

Teris watched her brother and the Knights Commander disappear back insider. She had never disliked Greywright, but right now she was beginning to. How could he let Nozel and the Silver Eagles leave after what Nozel had done?

“What happened to your clothes?” Pyter exclaimed looking Nozel over.

“It’s nothing,” Nozel assured.

“I doubt it’s the newest rage in fashion.” Pyter said, rising an eyebrow.

“Though if people see him like that it may become one.” Danior said, jealously.

“We’ll talk more after we get back to base.” Pyter said, almost jovially as he placed a hand on Nozel’s shoulder. “There you can tell me exactly what happened here.”

The Silver Eagles gave each other nervous looks before following their Captain out of the patio enclosure and down a pathway.

Nozel and Teris’ eyes locked once more before he turned the corner and was out of sight. As soon as he was she tossed off Venice and Tobin’s arms and made for Yami.

“Hold up there light bug.” Jax said, placing a hand firmly on her shoulder.

Teris turned and looked up at her Captain with a glare that gave him a moments pause.

Regaining his composure, Jax darkened, looming over her. “You better fix your face before I rearrange it for you Princess.”

Unable to do as the Captain order, Teris looked down, letting her hair curtain off her face.

Jax gave a huffing smirk of amusement. “You alright Olsen?” He called.

Olsen held up his hands showing the Captain the burns he had suffered by holding onto Teris while her mana was at its highest. “I believe lovely Venice’s gentle touch and a police will see me to rights.”

Jax shook his head. “Go with Bronn and Yami to the healing mages. They’ll likely want to keep him a while, if not over night. Have Bronn send you to base when they’re done with you.”

Olsen nodded, knowing as Jax did that Bronn would insist on staying at the healers until Yami was released, but that the Captain would want to know how Yami was doing. “Yes, sir.”

Jax watched him make his way through the gate and around to the other two. “Bronn!” Jax called.

“You got it, Captain.” Bronn called back.

A portal opened within the patios enclosure.

“Let’s go home guys.” Jax told Tobin, Venice, and Abril.

Teris pulled against her Captains staying hand trying to get to Yami.

Jax turned her roughly around to face him. “Bronn’s tired and can’t keep this gateway open forever. Now walk through before I throw you through.”

“But, Yami.” Teris said, so softly is was almost a whisper as she tried once again to view him through the shrubs and failed. If only she could see him. See that he was alright. Then she would feel better and do as her Captain wanted without complaint.

Jax looked in the same direction as Teris grateful for the tall shrubs and her shorter height. He probably never would have been able to control her if she could see the state he was in. Jax balked at the pool of blood that began to form around Yami. Knowing that Bronn couldn’t make another portal to take Yami to the healers till they had gone through this gateway Jax half shoved, half flung Teris through before lunging through himself.

10.1.2

“They’re gone,” Olsen said, with unnecessary volume.

“Alright, kid.” Bronn said, as he looked down at Yami. “We’re gonna get you to the healing mages.”

“Don’t want—to go—stupid—mages,” Yami rasped, skipping words as he struggle to stay conscious.

“Too bad. We’re already here.” Bronn said, rising and stepping away to let the healers at him.

He watched as three of them went quickly and efficiently to work taking stock of Yami’s injuries and magically tending to them. While another two went about the task of cutting open Yami’s shirt careful not to bump or jostle the iron stake that had been part of a short decorative barricade that lined the walkway protecting the garden beds.

From what Bronn could piece together of the scene, it appeared as if it had impaled Yami when he had first landed and either the force of the the landing or the momentum of his continued skid had broken the square bar off. By the time Bronn had gotten to him the wound had further opened with Yami’s continued movement. The idiot hadn’t seemed to realize that there was a metal rod skewered through his back, just below his shoulder blade, and exiting his chest near the first and second rib.

Bronn couldn’t entirely blame the kid for not noticing. Pain could sometimes that could take a while to register. Though the idiot should have noticed the fat, two inch, teardrop shaped iron finial that had been protruding from his front.

A Healer followed, by two others stopped before Bronn. “Do you require assistance?”

“What? No.” Bronn looked himself over. He wiped the blood from his hands on the front of his shirt and held them up. “It’s not mine. Olsen over there--” Bronn stopped, having turned and seen two healers already attending to the Water Mages burned hands. He gave a nod and looked back at the Healer who had spoken. “Just see my friends put to rights, if you please.”

“That is what we’re here for.” The Mage said. She gave a wave and the two that were behind her stepped back, walking away. “I suppose you’re not going to tell me what happened.” She said to Bronn.

“Will it help the healing process?” Bronn questioned, eyes on Yami.

That bloody, bratty royal sure did a number on him, Bronn thought wincing in sympathy as the metal was pulled free. But, Yami didn’t groan or cry out. It was then that Bronn noticed that the he was no longer conscious. Whether Yami had gone under himself or one of the healers had put him under, he didn’t know; but the Vice Captain was grateful.

The Healing Mage shook her head. “You Magic Knights are all the same. Getting injured with little care for the trouble you cause. Barging in here. Dripping mud, sweat, and blood. Barking orders. Rushing us. Even going so far as to threaten us if we don’t save your friends and comrades. And after we do. You’re gone with barely a backwards glance, let alone a thank you. Off to get injured all over again.”

Bronn turned to the Healer. “Wow. You make us sound like a bunch of ingrate, selfish, assholes.”

She looked up at him blinking and blushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. It’s just that—it’s been a rather rough day.”

“For you and me both, luv.” Bronn sighed, stuffing his hands into in pockets. “It’s actually been a rough couple of days for me if I’m being honest. But if what you said is true, it’s us who should do the apologizing.” He looked about the large, pillared, open aired room. “The amount of times I’ve been in this place. Well. I suppose you could say it’s like a second home.”

“You’re not a very good Magic Knight then. Are you?” She smiled.

He looked at her sharply and then smiled seeing that she had been teasing. “Naw, luv. I’m Vice Captain of the worst Magic Knights squad.”

“The Black Bulls,” she said.

“Our infamy precedes us I see.”

She gave a pointed look to the insignia on his cape.

“Ah. Smart.”

“So I’ve been accused of on occasion. I’m Gilly Shae, Grand Healing Mage.”

“You’re in charge,” Bronn said, mildly impressed.

“Of this shift,” she clarified.

“Just getting started or near it’s end?”

“Me and my team will be here till sunrise,” she answered.

“Unless your people give me some good news it looks like I will be too.” Bronn said, looking back at Yami.

“I can guarantee you that your friend will be staying the night.” Gilly said, looking sympathetically down at Yami.

“Not my friend,” Bronn said. “Just my subordinate.” He looked back at Gilly, tilting his head studying her. “You can sense the kids injuries, can’t you.”

“Same as I can sense your fatigue and mana's depletion,” Gilly said. “I can help.”

“Naw, lass. Don’t want to be any more trouble than we already are. Besides, you should see the other guy.” Bronn gave a low whistle and shook his head. “Pretty sure he spent last night at his own healers, if he isn’t still there today.”

“You sound proud.”

“Proud to have survived a fight with the some Spade Kingdom spatial twit who took a cheap shot at me from behind and nearly took my head off. You bet your pretty face I am. That bastard wouldn’t let up and left me stranded in the middle of nowhere by the time I finally proved who the better spatial mage was and sent him fifty feet above his countries side of the mountain peak. Took me hours to recoup enough mana just to be able to fly some broken branch home. You have no idea how embarrassing it is for a spatial mage to have to resort to flying on a makeshift broom.”

“So this is what you consider better?” Gilly asked, referring to his health.

“Better than yesterday for sure. I would been even better if I hadn’t had to transport folks around today, but my Captain and squad needed me.”

“And now whatever meager recovery from yesterdays altercation has been undone,” Gilly finished.

“Still managed to do what was needed when it counted,” Bronn said. He looked at Yami. “Will he be alright?”

“He will be good as he ever was in a few hours, unlike you. The reason for his prolonged stay is so that I can keep him under and give him and his body a chance to recoup. The knitting together of bone and tissue is not always easy or pain free, which is why I’m keeping him under.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Bronn said. “I remember this one time, a healers administrations hurt almost as bad as the wound itself. I about punched the mage till I realized that he was a girl.” He looked castigated without her having said a word. “Suppose I should try to find her and apologize.”

“Could you?”

“What apologize?”

“Find the girl if you tired?”

Bronn blinked at that. He tried to remember the shocked, frightened face of the girl as his fist had raised. “I--” He shook his head. “I don’t know.” He looked at her. “But you lot keep records of patients don’t you? You’re like the Clerks over at Magic Investigations with your sheets of paper and files. You’ve gotta have that visit and which Healer I saw notated in my file or something. Right?”

“Possibly,” she said.

“Bronn.” Olsen called making his way to him. “I’m done. And I’ve already spoke with one of the healers tending to Yami so I can let Jax know what’s going on. Ready to send me home?”

“Did you thank them?” Bronn questioned.

“Thank you.” Olsen told the Vic Captain in slow, confusion.

“Not me you idiot!” Bronn snapped. “The Mages who fixed you up.”

“Uh. Sure.” Olsen said.

Bronn reached out a hand causing Olsen to take a step back.

“Don’t lie to me, you flowery Water Spout.” Bronn warned, closing his hand into a fist. “Go back and apologize to the Healers for not properly thanking them, then thank them for their efforts.”

Olsen looked at Bronn as if he has lost his mind.

“Now!” Bronn barked.

“Alright. Alright.” Olsen griped, walking away.

Bronn looked back at Gilly shaking his head. “Kids. I’m Bronn by the way. Bronn Rendel.”

“I know,” she said.

“How? Oh. Aright. Olsen said as much.”

“I knew who you were before that,” Gilly told.

“What? How?”

She turned away. “Send your comrade off and we’ll talk. There’s not much else for you to do while you wait till sunrise for your other friend to be released.”

Sorry for the delay. Though I'm not editing this fic, I am giving it a second read before posting to make sure it's somewhat readable. With the holiday's and my other fics...

Thanks reading. Hope you enjoyed.

Comments or questions are always appreciated.

#black clover #yami sukehiro #nozel silva #julius novachrono #fanfic #light in the darkness

14 notes · View notes

namjoonchronicles · 5 years

Text

all the pretty boys likes pretty girls | nj

- 1.8k

-writing exercise

Oh what it's like to be admired. To be adorn and to be loved in such delicate way that one felt suffice just from watching from afar.

You decided long before time that you were content with loving and never having. You decided that his words are forever carved within the walls in your veins and there are stars in your eyes where you see him walk through the hallways. The weather is cloudy, and the haze has gotten so much worse than when you came, the books that you carry felt like baggage and despite the setbacks, you hustle through the foggy weather to do what you came here to do.

Reading his new entry on the Student Representative Board; excited to know what he will talk about this week.

His topic had always been intriguing and thought-provoking that makes you think your thoughts are on the same wavelengths. You feel like you could tell him everything and not be ridiculed like you always have been. Those who couldn't see the weight of the topic always have the same face; uninterested and bland, judging and mocking. Not he. He understands. Or so you hoped.

Because no matter how long you know a person, you'll never see every part of them. And there's something about that that makes you feel like its not worth knowing anyone.

A familiar, hearty laughter, charismatic in its deliverance--your first response was to hide behind one of the many pillar your foyer had. It was he, Namjoon, walking with his friends, and a bright smile on his lips, heads hanging slightly to accommodate the friend who did not share the same height privilege as he does. Though you frequently found him wearing this expression, you never could be bored of it. He wears nothing extravagant; white dress shirt with light brown trousers, hair slick back, blazers folded in one hand, some notes in another.

Then, the inevitable.

"Namjoon," the handsome young men swung his head around at the call of his name. The chirpy, cheerful voice sped up when she saw that she was heard. "I was wondering if you could attend a singing contest this Friday? We are in-need of one more judge," she hurried to grab her flyers that probably contained the details of the contest and duck it out at Namjoon. Namjoon took them immediately.

"This Friday?" he re-confirms, looking at her in the eye, "I'll let you know if I could come. Though I'm not really great at singing..." Namjoon ends the statement with a chortle. She looks beyond delighted and she said her words of appreciations but you were too let down to hear the rest. You dug your hand into your jeans pocket and and took out a folded letter. It was intended to reply to Namjoon's last week entry post. But it didn't mean anything now. He is appreciated so well by others, why would he need another one. You lazily slipped it on top of the propelling dust bin and left the scene.

"What did I even think of doing that... we already know we didn't have a chance," you mumbled to yourself and pushed through the lecture hall door.

The thought of him reading your letter and the things you wanted to say to him; all your thanks and sincere words would have made him smile somehow--the joy he would have had, is lingering in your thoughts as the lecture progresses to the middle. Why would a girl like you get an attention from a guy like Namjoon. He's he, and you're you. That should be enough to end the relationship before it even began.

It started rather slowly. He helps oscillate your registration, he just did what he had to do. You didn't even plan to catch feelings. It's not what you're here for.

"Have you eaten?" the first thing he says when he saw you in the morning. Just before the long Orientation week began. "Yes, I did. The food is really good!" You chirped and went off right away. You're not the kind to have long small talks and hates doing it before you have coffee. He didn't protest. It would have been rude--you just got accustomed to each other's face. It was appropriate length of conversation at the time.

During the orientation, you were not very enthusiastic during ice-breaking activities. Orientation week, ever since college had always been draining for an introvert like yourself. Everything is fast-paced, and so many people are talking, wanting to know about each other. There comes one session where the University's Welcoming Crew spread around the hall, and have the new students like you, answer some questions.

"I want you to draw, what you were in the past, in the present and in the future," Namjoon was on the microphone at the front of the stage. You knew straight away what the goal was. It was to make sure that the new students understand what they're doing when they get here. Thing was, you aren't really sure. For a full five minutes, the canvas was empty. You pushed yourself to draw, but nothing comes out.

What is significant about me? Who was I? Who am I? What will I be?

Namjoon starts to walk around the massive hall, looking at drawings by other students. With his hands in his back, simply looking. His expressions were difficult to read. He doesn't smile, doesn't tilt, doesn't frown. Then your pen begins to move. Your eyes becomes glassy and your heart tugged in a way that it was painful to describe, but still, no tears fell. Your group mates who are in the same 'psychological torture' drew beautiful things like, big houses, big cars, themselves holding a degree. And you drew...

A sunken ship. Past. A small ship that floats. Present. A bigger ship and a bigger sail. Future.

Namjoon stops behind you. You closed your book immediately., Your canvas folded. He didn't say a word. You couldn't look at his face. Maybe you did, but you passed him a smile so brief, no one could have caught it.

Next, was a talk from the Dean.

You must have fell asleep midway because you didn't remember what he said. Your roommate who is sitting next to you offered a candy that you gladly took. You sincerely hoped no one caught you sleeping--it would have been embarrassing. This is what happens when you spent all night thinking if what you did--enrolling into university at this age was the right thing to do. But it's done.

It was then you found his board, where he wrote his thoughts about various things in life. You've never seen such elaborated piece of careful thinking, delivered in a way that evokes your inner thoughts. So eloquent and detailed, yet, poetic in its execution. It stood out like a poetry instead of a critic it was supposed to be. You've never heard someone worded it in that way before.

"What the eyes doesn't see, the mind doesn't know."

That phrase alone made you ponder behind the meaning for hours, for relevance, for explanation. Looking within yourself what made it so incredibly profound. You understood it so much, but also didn't. It made you wonder what has he gone through, to say words like that?

Surely, he was a professional writer in disguise of a student. The next morning's encounter was in the elevator. Like always he would smile first.

"You're up early," you broke the ice. "Yeah," he gushes, crinkles around his eyes, "There's an issue with the food for the event today, so I'm up to sort it out... How about you? Did you find the food okay?" "Yeah, I have no complains..." you blinked rapidly, feeling the atmosphere change because there's concerns in his voice, that he don't really attempt to hide in the way he leans tiredly on the elevator walls. "The food went bad...some students got sticky rice," he confessed.

He must have felt really bad. It wasn't even his fault.

"But I feel okay, Namjoon," you shrugged. "You're absolutely sure?" he inquired.

You nodded aggressively. He twitched a smile as he looks away.

"It's my job to make sure food is okay, and it isn't," he clicks his tongue, chin tilted up, and the elevator dings to arrival, "If you feel any discomforts, let me know. I'll get you some medications, alright?" He walks out first, with a thumbs up and sprinted off.

"Good luck today!" You managed to say. "Will do!" He shouts and disappears into the hall.

He was just friendly. He has incredibly writing skills that would shun the most celebrated writer in the world. But that's probably your own biased views. He is still Kim Namjoon and you're just you.

-----

Namjoon picks up a letter from the floor where you just left, as he saw you plunge into the lecture hall barely having seen your face. When orientation week end, it's like you returned to being strangers. He almost couldn't believe that he told you what he worried about so effortlessly, that one time in the elevator, and how relieved you made him feel. He couldn't forget that. The 'Good Luck' was what he needed the most. He is about to be expelled because he got into trouble with failing academics and being in Orientation Crew was the last thing that could make him stay in the dorms, and not get kicked out.

He wanted to try making writing his full time job, but his parents forced him to be here. Writing on the board makes him feel like himself. That's where his thoughts and views are on display. It didn't have to matter if someone reads it, but it would be nice if someone did. And he saw you one time, endorsed in it. And he felt so seen. It was strange. Like, you've seen his bare soul while being fully dressed.

He writes longer and longer and talk about many more things of various disciplines. The face you had on while you're reading it, and after you've done reading it, gives him so much satisfaction.

When he saw you drew a sinking ship, he felt like you had a story to tell. And he felt envious to those that you did tell those stories to. You're always so enveloped in your thoughts, he just wanted to know what you're thinking of. Does it cross the lines? Is it going too fast?

You look so sleepy. Namjoon did tell everyone not to doze off during the talk. Seems like you couldn't help it. When he walks over to your row, your friend next to you tried to wake you and he stopped her and shook his head.

"Let her sleep, it's okay..."

And these are the things you don't know. And never will, perhaps.

#knj #namjoon #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic #fluff

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thedapperrabbit · 4 years

Text

She-Ra Rewatch: season 3 and onwards through season 4, and boatloads of Introspection time!

So Ive been rewatching She-Ra with my partner, because sharing Entrapdak is caring. I could probably squee on about that for a century or more (because eeee, sharing things i love with people i love AND THEY EVEN PAY ATTENTION TO THE THINGS AND REMEMBER THEM!)...but ill spare you, kind internet strangers who for some reason find my thoughts mildly interesting enough to be reading this. This is going to be a lot. Like, a LOT. A lot especially from a stranger that youve probably only seen a notification from due to me sticking a heart on your content or for reblogging something lovely youve made in pictures or words. I dont think anything is going to be violently trigger-y because im not always great at judging that stuff and also ive yet to feel quite comfy enough to be fully open-posting specifics about my own past trauma, other than a vague allusion to self-harm and distant-ish unspecified abuse aaaand the usual childhood garbage truck of assholes....but i suppose you could possibly draw some darker potential conclusions from the content im focused on. Also, my ADHD makes it incredibly hard to keep to a straight and non-branching narrative so...ramble-y bits and expressions of brain frustration ahoy. Either way...you are forewarned, just in case. Sorry in advance, this is going to be a small booklet by the time Im done explaining, and thinking, and then attempting to stick words to abstract feels which sometimes im great at, and then others i fucking suck at...but at least this is all written and not me trying to say this to any of your faces! Thats....a mercy all of its own. Haa... Anyway, while rewatching with my partner, I realized just how much more painful parts of it are to sit through now...they were the first time, and each time since, but NOW having spent a while mulling over the series as a whole a bunch, and reading a lot of other peoples writings on here and finding myself largely in agreement with most Entrapdak fan’s assessment of things, I just....feel like all the air is ripped out of me during some moments, watching with keener insight. And despite thinking i had myself reasonably well figured out by my age, its all also made me further consider a few things about myself as well. Particularly my notable internalized fury response to chunks of it which have been consistent through all my viewings of SPOP. With Hordak at least, its way easier to understand my reactions. For me at least. Maybe not so much for the people around me. And, shittier due to intensity and subject matter, but still easier in the long run because...the broken bits in me that he resonates with are fresher and sharper and still more recent, like within the last ten years, and thus more towards the front shelves in my head, compared to things that resonate with Entrapta, which are all old, lifelong dull aches at this point. I feel like nothing i can point to is fully sufficient to fully express my feels involving Hordak. But, maybe the best representative moment is with the crying i do every damn time I see his face looking up at Prime just after he glimmer and catra were beamed up...because ive seen that face in the mirror. I HAVE MADE THAT FACE. That same. Goddamn. Face. I may not have gotten a jab to the back of the neck directly from the person I made it at...but they often seemed to silently goad me to harm myself in an attempt to jolt my brain out of getting stuck in re-looping through what theyd just done/said to me. Likewise, much of his interactions with Entrapta are very...very weirdly familiar in feeling, but in a good way. Watching the stuff with Hordak hurts because fuck me if it isnt frequently like watching myself back in 2008ish to 2013, which was the duration of the worst parts of that particular circle of hell i parked my ass in. So...that makes sense. Hes so well written in those moments, it occasionally gave me PTSD flashbacks (still does a little, but now im prepared and braced for it and can shrug it back off....thanks, lifetime of therapy and years of studying abnormal psychology! Still totally not an expert, just very passionate...just, as a disclaimer). Entrapta though...Entrapta is a different story. Mostly, I see Entrapta and in her free expressions of delight and joy and her bouncy enthusiasm I am reminded of a younger, less discouraged me in some ways, and in others, a “me” I could have been, but...well, extremely early-onset anxiety and depression made me insanely self-conscious super-super early on...not that i was great at hiding or...i guess the term people seem comfy with is “masking”? Which was a huge problem, or so it was in the 80s when far less was understood of such things. Id do so for a bit and then would forget to, in a way (because id forget long enough to go and trust again reflexively) and would get badly bullied and would squish everything down until id feel a crumb of safety again, and then almost instantly ADHD would pop that mask right the rest of the way off aaand it would start all over again. Ad nauseam until my teen years, where the depression sort of “fixed” that, and made it much easier to destroy my desire to share much of myself freely at all, save for with one or two people, and to a less deep extent a broader circle of nerd friends. Course, then i hit 30 and ran out of the majority of fucks I used to give. Or I became so damaged and salted with anger that parts of me dont grow any fucks anymore? Either way, plowshares to swords, WHEEEE!) And, maybe thats where this time while watching, I started to really think back to all that, and to how i see Entrapta treated by the other princesses, or really just in general except by Hordak...and why it burns my biscuits so badly. Every time I see someone roll their eyes at Entrapta’s beautiful unbridled enthusiasm or try to make it seem distasteful or at least weird and unwanted and uncomfortable for them but then dont even bother to try coming to terms with why they feel that way... or how they seem to feel free to grab and manhandle her without her consent, or the way they try to lessen her contributions because shes non-normative? Like its the fucking least she can do to make up for being weird in their space (...okay, that might just be the anger kicking in..but i dont feel like its an entirely innacurate assessment, is it?) All of that...seeing it inflicted upon someone, It feels like someones punched me right in the damn sternum, but because its a hurt that im so desensitized to, it seems to have a much different effect than the sharp, violent crushing pain that i feel when I relate to Hordak a little too well for comfort. Again, i could go on, but its nothing more eloquent people on here havent already spoken volumes on. And my first gut reaction is always “I dont understand! why is that their reaction to her?! it doesnt seem logical at all, i dont seem to be able to parse it correctly, how is this acceptable? I HOPE SHE IMMOLATES YOU ALL.”. Which...I suppose isnt entirely usual for me (the silent wishing that people be immolated, I mean...i blame my past years of working in retail. And devouring too much Warhammer 40k contentl). (oh gods...and this is going to be the most clusterfucky part cause i can feel my meds kicking in and thats gonna be hard to keep coherence on but i gotta get this all out of my head or ill forget it or get too scared of you fucking BRILLIANT insightful smart people on here and then ill continue to live scared and regretful that i never said..anything, and just sat here like “noticeme, entrapdak sempais!” Ehhn...which is to say, if this is a garbage dump from here down, dont worry, when i wake up ill fix it...but hopefully itll at least make a tiny bit of sense ) But I realized something...something I hadnt ever rememberd much about due to the shitty neuronormative (apology if thats wrong term) behaviors continuing over years and years but in less and less directly aggressive ways as i grew older and was more prone to losing my shit in , (and likely because I got excessively lucky and managed through...uhhh...agonizing determination? Sheer stubbornness? Alleviatory rebalancing of universal karma? fuck if i know --to curate a surprisingly supportive circle of other castoffs and misanthropes.) That was exactly how people used to treat me. OKAY THISLL BE EDITED LATER to add in the rest of what i was gonna say...im...too full of Ambien sleep meds and damn write it anymore...and im aing trouble separating realigty and dream...an i k apawing at the kybord...not safe Lov yous for reading this far. Il fix it later, swears.

#should i tag this?#im not sure if i like it #berres #psyhcology of pop culture chraracters #psychology of the writer/author

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coolturalworld · 4 years

Text

Memories of a child slave

I was born in a slave house in the courtyard of the Fernández house, I never knew my mother, nor my father, I don't remember them. Everyone here was born alone, and others were thrown into the sea so as not to suffer this life, all these stories were told to me by Toña, one of the oldest slaves in the Fernández family, a great woman, she is the guardians among the community. I was lucky to be born -she said- but there has been no luck at all, I am not the owner of my life and sometimes I suffer the pain from hard work, my life is not like the other children.

My name is Alberto, Mrs. Toña gave me that name when I was four years old since I didn't possess one, she knew my parents and I feel that she knows where they are, but sometimes she doesn't want to speak about it. I am 13 years old, and along with other children we serve the Fernandez family, I am short and a little thin, I have sunken cheekbones, a flat nose, my forehead and eyes are prominent, and the shapes of my ribs are a little strange, sometimes I limp because I had a big wound on my left leg due to an accident. I dress in brown and white tetters, with the dirt and the work I do, they are always muddy, I am regularly in contact with the soil because I work in the orchard, and sometimes I have to take the food sacks and even take them to the kitchen. Sometimes when I do this work, I ask myself why I have to do it? I was born to do only this? Children were born to do this? I ask myself many questions, and sometimes I am jealous that I am not like the children of the masters, they play in the garden and have fun. When slave children have fun, the woman scolds us because we make a lot of noise.

One day Mrs. Toña came to me in her dirty muddy and slightly sweaty clothes, sat down next to me and told me stories about our ancestors until she told me about my parents. She told me that they wanted a better future for us, they tried several times but it was a hopeless case.

—Black people are condemned to serve whites, forever. —He said to me as the sweat dried.

—Why? Is there no chance we can be free? Mrs. Toña, sometimes I get tired doing my job and sometimes I wish I could be like the children playing in the garden, free as the wind. -I said to her, perplexed and angry inside.

—Don't worry about these things, you'll understand them better in the future. —The lady said with a disappointed face and a comforting voice.

I quit to the orchard frustrated, with a head bowed and I got skimming the future and my parents, I would like to know them, and I wanted to know more about them; why they abandoned me? Why I never met them? So many questions were hanging over my head while the fulgent sun hit me in the face. I opted to run to Mrs. Toña's place to answer my questions, but something prevented me as if someone had stopped me from nothing, hence, I better keep on farming and drawing up the yucca, perhaps today it was going to end faster, even though, I was a bit worrisome.

When the night fell, some children and I silently played with some rocks we found in the garden, they were round and could roll, so we made a hole in the ground and played to put the stones in the hole, it was fun, I won many times, I had quite a good aim. At that moment, I felt peace and serenity inside. Suddenly in the background an outcry was heard as if someone was being tortured, when we heard that scream we ran out to hide, but I wanted to know what was happening, somehow I was the oldest of the children, I looked out of the shuck behind the courtyard and beheld that a man was being whipped, Mrs. Toña and other women there were sobbing with frightened faces. When I witnessed this scene I was very shocked, and I wanted to get a little closer, with anger that all this happened, sometimes it was incomprehensible, to see someone suffering and that we could not do anything, the man was shouting and babbling something that I could not understand, the light-skinned man, the one who waved the whip on the man's back, began to curse us.

—All the misfortunes are because of you, you bring bad luck, you're all scum, you're useless. May you rot in hell! —The man said with the eyes of the devil, hitting even harder.

A very deplorable scene, I still feel creeps for everything the master said, echoing in my head over and over again. That very night after that man stopped, one of the men who worked with the tortured slave, killed himself, from what I could hear, the man with a blade cut his throat and waited until he bled out, leaving his body lying in the grass. Mrs. Toña did not allow us to see the dead and we stayed locked in the shelter, the man who was tortured was being healed with plants but it was not enough, he also departed. That night it felt unpleasant, and I felt that my chest was going to explode, my heart was pumping very fast, I was afraid that in the future it might be me who was being tortured.

The next morning I asked Mrs. Toña but she didn't want to go into detail because every time she named the dead slave her voice broke and her eyes filled with tears.

—Ma'am, are you all right? Why did the master whip that poor man? —I asked naively while Mrs. Toña was organizing the bed.

—This doesn't concern you, go and do your job. —Said the woman as if she didn't care.

—Why did he do it? — I shouted

Holding me by the arms tightly and looking at me with tearful eyes, she said: —You are still too young to understand, you must obey or else the same thing will happen to you as to that poor man.

—I want one day to be able to talk about my parents, I still have more questions about them. —I told her without expecting an answer.

—You see, your parents aren't here on this earth and they won't ever come back, they broke the rules. —The old woman said to me, cruelly.

—But you know you can count on me, I've brought you up as if I were your mother, you can't reproach me for anything. —She replied with a face more like one of disappointment when I hear it.

Without answering her, I ran out of that place with tears in my eyes, without hope of knowing what would happen to me, I didn't want to continue to suffer, I didn't want to end up like that man, I wanted to know more about my parents, I wanted to be like those children in the garden.

The days went by, I was doing my job faster than usual as the harvest was about to rot and they said there was a plague. The supervisor would ride by with the whip to inspect, if we didn't collect enough, we were sold because we didn't produce enough.

One afternoon, a slave lady I had never seen before, called me by name, I ran out at her call, she seemed very interested in telling me something, she was wearing a neat white dress and had her hair combed, she looked at me and gently grabbed me by the face. It seemed as if a delicate flower was brushing my face.

—You look like your father, and you have your mother's mouth. —She said to me with his eyesight lost in my face.

—Did you know my parents? — I asked him, surprised and a little confused

—Come with me, I'll show you something. —We walked to a tree, and she start told me that my parents were meeting there with certain slaves in the early morning to discuss our rights.

They told us that we could ask for our freedom without having to give money to our masters to buy our freedom. —Looking at me, he began to relate.

—Look, boy, they had an eloquence in speaking and they could read, apparently a master taught them on the sly, and they in turn stole law books and learned a few things. Nobody discovered them and so they could tell everything they knew. The blacks have been enslaved for a long time, they told us that we came from far away, from Africa, a continent far from here. —The woman spoke with an interest in telling me more.

—But you may wonder why it was only the blacks who were chosen to be slaves, it all comes from an idea that the whites have of being the pure race, that is, the Aryan race, the only race that can have power and possess land. Black people have been regarded as the servant, the hard worker, our skin colour has condemned us to be as we are. —With his face fixed on me he stood there for a moment thinking and analyzing what she had said.

Reasoning from this fact I was processing all that information, it is as if someone finally answered my questions.

—If so, what can we do to change that idea? What is the right that my parents were talking about? and why after so many years of slavery no one has done anything? look how many of us are suffering, how many of us are suffering this misfortune that we do not deserve, that we did not choose, that they did impose us. —I said to the lady in a loud voice, I didn't know where she got those words from, but I think they made sense.

The perplexed lady looked at me and said, —You sure got that temper from your parents.

—I don't know how to answer those questions, but I do know that what you can do now is think that freedom goes beyond not working for the masters but is within you, you can't choose your future but you can do it better from the love of your neighbor and in what you do, you must accept that this is your future, living in bitterness is not an option, maybe you or someone in the future will raise their voice, sooner or later this must end.

Thinking about what he said, I thought about my parents, if they were about to make a change, what happened to them.

—Where are my parents? —I said, hoping for some answer.

—They're in heaven. —She said quietly.

—What does that mean?

—That means they're living in heaven, they're in paradise, heaven, they've already left the world, they died with dignity fighting for our rights.

—Who killed them? —I said grieving.

—It doesn't matter who killed them but why they were killed. —She told me

—If heaven is paradise, why don't we all go there?

—It's not easy if you do bad things here on earth, you must serve, be a good boy, live with your condition without hurting anyone.

—If I go to heaven, can I meet my parents again?

—Maybe, but I can't assure you of that. We can meet our ancestors there.

—I want to go to heaven. -I said with emotion.

—To go to heaven is to die, nobody wants to die, you have to keep on living.

—What for?

—Because one day we'll be rewarded for our work.

She got up and walked away until I lost sight of her, then I went to the orchard, anxious to know more, about heaven and our detachment from all this misfortune.

The months passed, I had a lot of sleepless nights, remembering the words of that unknown woman, I pictured heaven with my parents, with the hope of finding my freedom. Mrs. Toña looked at me strangely because I did everything with good grace, in the right way, and I didn't throw outbursts every time they carried me for work. Something changed in me after that woman spoke to me. But I didn't continue to see the woman, something happened with her, I didn't see her anymore after that day, I asked Mrs. Toña if she had seen her, but she told me that she had never met a lady with the same characteristics. Then I asked the other women, and they told me that they did not know her and that they had never seen her, the children did not recognize her either. For me it was something strange, I had never seen her before either, it seemed like she came from somewhere else.

It was very discouraging that no one knew about it, and I find it a little strange that it came out of nowhere to tell me these things. I was depressed all afternoon and Mrs. Toña came to me worried.

—You've been very cheerful these days, why are you like this today? Is something wrong? —She says, holding my hands.

—I met a woman who said she knew my parents, she had a clean appearance and her eyes were very deep; she told me about my parents and all that they did for our rights and the meetings they held. —I said to the lady looking at the floor.

—It's impossible, I can't believe it. —The lady was disturbed and started walking around.

—What's wrong?

—It's all right, she's an angel, she comes from heaven, many say she calls herself a white angel. But, weirdly, she shows up now, every time something strange happens.

—What's an angel?

—They are beings sent by God, they give advice, many say that they don't really do it and that it only happens in people's dreams. Some time ago a child also appeared to this angel and days later many men disappeared.

—But it was not a dream, it was very real, I felt his presence. —I told him confused.

—Okay, don't worry, sometimes it's good luck to have an angel appear. —I'm not sure.

With those words, she withdrew thoughtfully.

The night fell, the twilight formed shadows under the trees, we had already finished the work, when suddenly a truck arrived, a white man got off it and exchanged a couple of words with the man. Then they approached us, sent us into line. I was very nervous about what was going to happen.

—Whoever I call, they step forward. —Said the master.

—Francisco, Miguel, Alberto, Juan.

The master sold us to a man named Manuel, he seemed to be a respectful man, he didn't yell at us or hit us. We got into the truck where there were four other men, when we arrived they were talking and I heard something about a runaway. At that moment I didn't see Mrs. Toña and I felt a great pain for not saying goodbye to her, I had a lump in her throat. The other men weren't even grimacing, they were inexpressive and followed orders. When we were already on the road these men spoke to us in a low voice.

—We have to get away, we can hit the master and we can run away. —One of them had a crack in his face with a thick, rasping voice, convinced that this was his moment of freedom.

—The plan is as follows, we have to hit the man on the head so we can escape.

—Do you know which way to go? —One of the men who came in with me asked

—Yes, there is a place they have called the palenque, where escaped Negroes are sheltered, we can go there.

These men had everything figured out, although I did not understand much of what they were saying because they used a strange language, yet I was able to know what it was all about. I was a little scared by what these men were planning, but I remembered the words of that woman and I was filled with courage.

The man next to me got up, took off his sweater and began to hang the master, hit him, until he was unconscious for a moment, the truck stopped and we ran away, running through the bushes so hard that I could not feel my feet. From a distance some shots were heard, the master was already catching up with us, we ran, but some were hit by the bullet, the master kept shooting and suddenly I fell, I felt my leg numb, I was shot and I was bleeding to death, the only thing I was thinking about was my freedom and the sky, I couldn't crawl, I didn't have the strength, everything was dark, in a moment I saw my body lying on the grass, it was floating in the air, I had achieved my freedom.

The end

#short story #slavery #slave #colonial america #america

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shannaraisles · 7 years

Text

Set In Darkness

Chapter: 64 Author name: ShannaraIsles Rating: M Warnings: Canon-typical violence Summary: She’s a Modern Girl in Thedas, but it isn’t what she wanted. There’s a scary dose of reality as soon as she arrives. It isn’t her story. People get hurt here; people die here, and there’s no option to reload if you make a bad decision. So what’s stopping her from plunging head first into the Void at the drop of a hat?

What Lies Beneath

"You must eat, Mistress Rory. Think of your child."

Rory snarled. With one jerky motion, she flicked the bowl out of Maddox's hands, watching as the contents sprayed across the iron bars that separated her from him.

"I am not eating anything in this place," she growled, furious, hungry, and increasingly desperate. "Everything is tainted! I would rather my baby starve and die in the womb than infect them with red lyrium!"

"You will die, too," Maddox pointed out calmly, beef gravy dripping off his chin.

"Good!" she snapped back, aware it wasn't the best comeback. But clever words meant nothing to Maddox. The meaning was the same, even if the delivery wasn't eloquent. "Stop trying to poison me, then."

"I have been working closely with the red lyrium for several years," he offered in that infuriatingly placid manner of his. "I show no signs of the infection you claim."

"You're Tranquil," she pointed out. "I don't know how or why, but lyrium - any lyrium - doesn't affect you the way it does me. For the last time, piss off and let me starve in peace!"

"There is no logic to your defiance, mistress," the Tranquil mage reminded her. "Surely, it is more logical to live than to die."

Rory snorted derisively. "Oh, really? You think I want to be like those monsters on guard out there?" she demanded, gesturing toward the steps down into this holding place. "No mind of their own, only pain and the horrible lyrium song in their heads?"

"It is life, nonetheless."

"But not living," she snarled. "Run along and play nice for your darkspawn friend and his pet templar, there's a good boy."

She turned her back on him, arms hugged tight around herself, ashamed of how aggressive she was being with him. For a long moment, she was aware of those calm eyes watching her; then she heard his footsteps trailing away. This was a nightmare.

She was in the Shrine of Dumat, held below in the area you were only allowed to explore if you sided with the templars in the game. She'd never noticed cells down here the one time she'd managed to play it through that way, but evidently they existed - wide rooms that were barred along one wall, offering her a lovely view of the terrors and red templars that patrolled the area in malevolent silence. Above, others patrolled that way, too, the bustling quiet of a place made to be the center of operations for a war few out there were prepared to admit was being waged. She'd heard Samson's voice often since she'd been locked in here a day and half ago, shouting his orders across the wide space above. She'd even heard Corypheus once, the sound of that voice transmitted via a crystal sending a chill to her bones. She was hungry, weary, and terrified - not a good combination to keep her temper from flaring.

The corners of her wide cell were choked with red lyrium, great glowing shards of crystal that thrust from the stone, making a wide space far narrower than she was entirely happy with. To keep a reasonable distance from the infected mineral, she was obliged to spend her time pressed against the iron bars of the cell, directly until the eyes of terrors and templars, vulnerable to the claws that might choose to swipe at her at any moment. But what choice did she have? To deepen her risk of infection from the red lyrium by staying closer to it than she had to, or to invite a malicious attack from the terrors that patrolled by? Bleeding out was, at least, a kinder death than being taken over by the Blighted crystal.

Rory rested her forehead on the cool metal of the bars, letting out a low sigh. Her stomach was gnawing, but she didn't dare eat. Her throat was dry, but she didn't dare drink. She'd been in here for just over a day, and the insistent song of the lyrium was wearing on her nerves. It wanted her to give in; to go over to it, to let it weasel its way into her blood so it could make a home in her body and take her over. She would not let that happen. Cullen was out there, she knew it; Cullen and Kaaras, and everyone else who had decided to come along. She just had to be strong a little while longer; just had to resist that siren song a little ...

Cullen. Holy fuck, he's going to walk right into this. Horror trickled down her spine in icy waves. He'd been doing so well with his withdrawal these last few months. The nightmares were always a problem, especially when he was under stress, but there had been fewer instances of those terrible debilitating headaches, less need of a deep massage to convince his body to relax so he could sleep. But here, surrounded by this evil crystal ... it didn't bear thinking about. He was already going to be wound tightly. Would he be able to think, to breathe, all the while surrounded by this aching, persistent song that was abhorrently unnatural?

A sudden bustle from the open hall above caught her attention. She tilted her head up, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening. She could hear shouting - not orders, not obedience, but panic, running the length of the Shrine. It didn't take much to guess what had caused it. The Inquisition had been sighted. There wasn't much made of it in the game, but if she had to make a guess, she'd say that there were at least two platoons of soldiers and scouts converging on Samson's headquarters. At least a hundred men and women, elves, humans, dwarves, closing in on this place that had been deemed impossible to find, and at their head, the Inquisitor and the Commander. More than enough to cause the chaos she could hear above her.

Another voice snapped something, closer to her, and the templars patrolling the cells hurried to obey, abandoning their post to the tender mercies of the terrors in their midst in answer to the summons that came to them. Rory flinched back from the bars as cold, demonic eyes came to rest on her. She was the only living being left within their range; too much temptation, even when weighed against the spells used to bind them. Spindly limbs swiped toward her, easily reaching through the bars, and despite herself, she lurched back out of range, yelping when she felt her sleeve tear on the sharp jut of the red lyrium. Just her sleeve, thank gods, but that was too close. The snarling ugliness of hungry faces pressed against the bars in front of her as she backed carefully away, wincing at the intrusive crescendo of lyrium song all around her. She closed her eyes, raising her hands to cover her ears ...

Nothing broke through the bars. Nothing strained to reach her. She risked opening one eye, only to find both terrors lying in a broken heap, the iron bars a little curved but unbroken.

"This is a sad place, filled with old pain. People spoke here, and something listened, until it didn't."

Cole. "Cole?"

Rory concentrated, forcing her mind away from the singing crystal, narrowing her eyes as she tried to focus on where she thought the familiar voice had come from. The barred door swung open, and there he was, visible to her eyes, choosing to let her see him. The brim of his big hat rose to reveal the pale, red-rimmed eyes she had come to know very well indeed.

"The demons see, but the templars don't," he told her in his cryptic way, leaving her to fill in the blanks. "It's harder to hide now." He offered her his hand. "Come away from the song. It's made from people."

She didn't need telling twice, lurching hurriedly away from the glowing clusters that pressed in around her to take the clammy hand that he reached out to her. "What happens now?" she asked, tense and frightened.

She could still hear the rushing of feet up above, the sound of voices ordering movement. Samson was running, just as he did in the game, and those men up there ... they would stay to ensure that he was not caught. Was she glad not to have met Cullen's mirror image in this world? She wasn't sure.

"Aching and hating, lies upon lies to make the pain mean something," Cole murmured as he pulled her from the cell, hurrying to the chamber that stood between the two stairwells that lead upward. He pulled her inside, peering out to listen for the sound of anyone approaching. "He thinks he is right, knows Corypheus is wrong. But he still does what he is told."

Rory's hand closed gently over the spirit boy's upper arm. "Samson is not innocent, but he's not wholly guilty, either," she told him quietly. "The Chantry and the Order drove him to this."

"They took away the song, gave back the pain," Cole agreed, but confusion furrowed his brow as he looked at her. "Cullen doesn't lie to make the pain go away. He is quiet, behind the noise. The little bottle makes him shake, but he tests the chains. He is angry, afraid. He wants to be here, but he does not know how to hide. Find her, make her safe, tell her I am coming for her."

Just hearing him say those words, knowing they came from Cullen, was enough to lend a little strength behind her terror. Her hand tightened on Cole's fingers as she nodded. "Two out of three isn't bad," she said softly.

The boy's expression flickered in confusion, unable to read her as he did everyone else, frustrated by the quietness that clung to her, concealing what she knew. "I do not like your silence now," he told her. "There is darkness behind it. What can't I see?"

Fire. But she couldn't tell him, not now. Cole was not capable of keeping his mouth shut; if even a hint of her knowing what Maddox was about to do to this place came out ... No. You can't risk it, Rory. He'll find out soon enough.

"The red general goes, but others stay," Cole went on, turning his gaze from hers when she refused to tell him what she was hiding. "The other silent one, the red templars, the demons and terrors ... Go. We will fight them, keep them here. They will not follow. We will ..." He trailed off, shock reverberating through his slender form. "We should not stay here."

"Where can we go?" she asked, knowing he must have caught some hint of what was planned.

"Come to the inner sanctum, Mistress Rory," a placid voice said, just outside the door to this chamber. "I would not burn you alive by choice. Nor your friend."

Cole's shock was palpable. Maddox should not have been able to perceive him, but then ... Maddox was no longer connected to the Fade. The spirit tricks that kept others from noticing Cole's presence would not work on the Tranquil mage. Rory squeezed his hand gently. As alarming as the Tranquil was, she believed him when he said he didn't want to harm her.

"It's all right," she promised the boy at her side, hoping she was right about that. "Come on."

She stepped out of their hiding place, Cole's hand wrapped in hers. Maddox was standing in the stairwell, his arms loaded with explosive potions. He offered her his well-meaning smile.

"Come to me, if you please, mistress," he suggested. "There is work I must do before the Knight-Captain arrives."

Rory's gaze sharpened as she looked at the Tranquil. She knew what he meant by work - the firing of the shrine, for one; and his own poisoning. Question was, had he already taken care of that second one? Could she change his fate here? His eyes were just a little glazed, his face covered with a sheen of sweat, but that could be anxiety over what was coming. Then she noticed the tiniest trace of something dark at the corner of his mouth, and her heart sank. He'd already taken the Blightcap essence. Maddox was already dying.

She felt Cole tense beside her, shaking her head at him. "There's no point," she told the boy. "He's a dead man walking, Cole."

"Already dead inside, no light to touch, no dreams to walk, no passion for what once was loved," was Cole's somewhat predictable answer.

"No, I mean he's actually dying," Rory clarified for him. "He's taken poison."

Cole blinked, looking at Maddox thoughtfully. "Oh."

Maddox's placid, unnerving smile never wavered. "Indeed, Mistress Rory, you are observant," he said in his calm way, moving to lob those explosive potions into the cells. Flames erupted where they fell in destructive arcs, reaching out to burn anything within reach. As the heat intensified, Rory staggered - too tired, too hungry, too everything, to handle the imminent suggestion of death by burning on top of everything else. Without thinking, Cole wrapped his thin arm about her back, his hand pressed to the side of her belly ... and the world around her faded.

Soft sheets around a still body. Dry mouth, parched lips, something unyielding inside her throat, breathing for her. Forgotten echoes of pain in muscles unmoving. The steady blip of an electronic heartbeat in her ears; acrid smell of artificial disinfectant itching at her nose. A warm hand wrapped inside her cold fingers; a familiar voice speaking as though from some distance untouchable.

"... longest sleep you've ever had. You couldn't even get four hours before, now you've been asleep for five months? All-time personal best."

Ria. She wants to smile. She hasn't heard that voice for far too long. She sounds ... good. Healthy. Alive. Cold fingers want to twitch, to move, to squeeze that warm hand and promise to always be here.

"I wish you were here. Well, properly here. I know you're here, here, but you're not here, you know? Rambling again. Jay's taking me to look at rings later today. What do you think, am I a single solitaire kind of girl, or a crazy chakra-loving demon from the lowest depths of Pandemonium? I'm leaning toward chakra-loving demon, myself."

That sounds right. Five months is a long time to be without the only sister she's known. But life has moved on. Jay proposed. She's looking for rings. Forcing willpower down her arms, into her fingers, and finally they move. The merest twitch, the barest motion, just enough to say ... I'm here.

"Oh my fucking god, did you ...? You did, you - Hello! Hello, someone? She moved, she squeezed my hand! Do it again, Ror, I know you can."

More force, more will, and another finger twitches, encouraged by the delighted crow of laughter from her side. She can't smile. She can't move more than a single finger. She shouldn't be here.

"Rory?"

"Come on, little red, don't play dead."

"She went away, into the darkness and silence. Now she is coming back."

"Just move your fingers again. C'mon, Ror, I know you can hear me. Come home."

"Sweeting, come back to me. Please. Come home."

Home. One voice fades as others press in around her. The stillness leaves her form; the artificial scents replaced with others, more real, more present. Smoke and ash and soot; oakmoss and elfroot; oiled metal, musky leather, sweat she knows as intimately as her own. This is home, too.

Rory coughed as she came back to herself, her dry throat rebelling against the coiling smoke that swirled through the oppressive heat all around her. Her eyes opened, watering in the unpleasant atmosphere of the burning shrine ... and there he was, gold-haired, whiskey-eyed, tousled and anxious and all for her.

"Cullen," she whispered, and the anxiety on his fractious face shattered into relief, lips curving in a warm smile that said so much more than words might ever manage.

Other faces pressed in around his - Kaaras, Cole, Cassandra; Dorian, Bull, Varric; even Vivienne's distinctive headdress was visible behind them. So many of them, trapped by flame and red lyrium, here for her, to save her from the fate Samson had lost his chance to lay upon her. Warm lips kissed her brow, drawing her eyes back to her husband, her lion, her anchor to this world

"I'm here," Cullen promised, gathering her up and into the cradle of his arms. "You are never going anywhere without me again."

#set in darkness #multi-chapter fic #MGiT #modern girl in thedas #cullen rutherford/original female character #cullen rutherford/rory allen #rory allen #maddox #cole #shrine of dumat #ria #iron bull #companions #red lyrium #mystical whose-y-whatsits

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hooksandhappyendings-blog · 7 years

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As Cold as Ice

A canon-compliant exploration of the Jonsa tension boiling beneath the surface. Will likely become canon divergent and smutty in the future.

Words: 2.7k

Rating: Mature

This is a little experiment and I have no idea where it is going. I am a spoiler free summerchild who still believes in Jonsa and so this fic will be canon-compliant until canon no longer allows for my shipping needs. Until then I’ll follow each Jon/Sansa scene shot for shot, simply inserted my own prose to make way for the juicy internal conflict that hope is going on beneath the surface. If Jonsa happens, that’s what I’ll continue to do. If it doesn’t then you still win because i’ll likely make this fic canon-divergent smut instead.

For those of you who know me from my Captain Swan fics, this will be very different. Even if it does turn smutty, I doubt I’ll take the dubcon route. That’s just not Jon’s style. But I promise to still deliver the level of quality sexiness you’re used to. For more information of the other fics I’m working on follow me on Tumblr at Hooks-and-Happy-Endings.tumblr.com and if you’re hungry for smut, check out my Captain Swan / GoT crossover The Wolf and the Dragon.

WARNING: This fic contains mentions of rape but does not contain sexual content.

You can also read this fic on ff.net and Ao3.

Chapter 1: When Southern Kings Call

Sansa looked down at the raven scroll in her hand. It was bone cold and there was a pit in her stomach. So the rumors were true. Her husband by law was back in Westeros and very much out of hiding. What did that mean for her? She looked up at her brother who was brooding in his usual way. He had promised to protect her. Would he ever marry her off to serve some political purpose? She shivered. Not at the cold. The cold had been the first to greet her when she’d come into the world. She shivered at the thought of being forced to once again leave her home. To be another man’s plaything. “Do you think it’s really Tyrion?” she asked, “It could be someone trying to lure you into a trap.”

“Read the last bit.” Jon replied without turning.

She looked back at the words bleeding out from the Targaryen sigil. The House of the Dragon. How could they hope to defeat a family who’s signature was a threat in and of itself? “All dwarves are bastards in their fathers’ eyes.” she read allowed, “What does that mean?”

“It’s something he said to me the first night we met.”

Sansa blinked, compulsively annoyed that he had reminded her of the day their family had parted. The day that destroyed her life. All of their lives. The lives of the people they loved. Who knew that Jon would end up being the safest of them all at the Wall. They were two lone survivors, finally together after winning (or weathering) their solitary fights. She hated how she hadn’t cared if she ever saw him again. Now she was anxious every time he was out of sight. Not because she didn’t think she could survive without him, but because he was the only person in the world she could trust. Jon wasn’t going to allow her to be beaten or tormented or raped. Jon would have killed Ramsay for her, if that had been what she’d wanted. In fact, he almost did.

“You know him better than any of us. What do you think?”

Sansa swallowed her surprise. Jon was also the only person who ever wanted to know her opinions and actually listened, the little bit that he did. “Tyrion’s not like the other Lannisters. He was always kind to me but...” she looked away. They needed help, she knew that. But what happens when Jon leaves? What happens when he doesn’t come back? She was a Stark, for now. But who will stop men more powerful than her from selling her off again. Without her brother there to protect her Littlefinger would take advantage of her vulnerability. “...it’s too great a risk.” she finished, looking directly into her brother’s brown eyes. Where will we go. That’s what he’d said and she was going to hold him to that. She read a bit of Tyrion’s message and handed the scroll to Davos.

He reviewed what they knew. Daenerys had a great army and three dragons. She closed her eyes the moment he mentioned fire.

Of course he’ll go. She knew it without a doubt. He was just like their father. Righteous, self-sacrificing idiots, the both of them. “You’re not suggesting Jon meet with her!” Sansa snapped at the Onion Knight.

“No! No, it’s far too dangerous.”

“But?”

Her head snapped to Jon. She seethed. He wanted to go. In fact, he had already made up his mind. She didn’t hear the knight’s reply. Her eyes were boring into the side of her brother’s face. He was going to leave her. She watched the snow dancing through the air. Beautiful and cold. Breathtaking and deadly. That was the North. But snow melts when summer comes. And Starks die when southern kings call.

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“A raven, my king, from the Citadel.”

Jon broke from his reverie and turned to take the Raven scroll from Maester Wolkan. He unfurled it and read the words. At first he felt relief flood him, then his stomach dropped. His sister was not going to be happy.”

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“I received this a few days ago.”

All eyes were on Jon as his voice boomed around the stone walls of the Great Hall at Winterfell. Sansa watched him from her seat. Her mind had been wandering. There was no point in listening. He had already discussed most of it with her earlier that day. But she was looking at him. He made a good king. Probably better than Rob. He had proved that by refusing Daenerys’ summons. He had decided to stay. He wasn’t going to leave his subjects. Or her.

Jon said, “Lord Tyrion has asked me to meet with Daenerys,” Sansa blinked in surprise when he suddenly turned and looked her in the eyes. In just one instant his face told her everything. It was hard with both remorse and finality. No, she thought desperately, don’t.

“And I’m going to accept.”

The room erupted in in the exclamations of the high lords but Jon did not appear to hear them. Her brother did not look away. His eyes were dark and challenging. Anger exploded within her. Without opening his mouth he was telling her in no uncertain terms that he knew she disagreed and he was doing it anyway.

The lords shouted for his attention but the White Wolf did not release her from his icy stare until he had fully impressed his uncontested authority upon her silent dissent. Finally, he turned back to his subjects. “We need this dragonglass, my lords! We know that dragonglass can destroy both white walkers and their army. We need to mine it and turn it into weapons.” The men grumbled while Lady Mormont showed no emotion. They knew he was suicidal. How could he not see how stupid he was being? Persistently, Jon continued, raising his voice over the rabble, “But more importantly we need allies! The Night King’s army grows larger by the day. We can’t defeat them, we don’t have the numbers. Daenerys has her own army and she has dragonfire. I need to persuade her to fight with us.” Sansa chose that moment to look over at Littlefinger. Fear filled her belly. She knew that look. He was pleased. Could anyone but Jon protect her from his schemes?

“Have you forgotten what happened to our grandfather?!” she shouted at her stupid brother. “The Mad King summoned him to King’s Landing and roasted him alive!”

“I know that.”

“She is here to claim the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms. The North is one of those kingdoms. This isn’t an invitation, it’s a trap!”

“It could be. But I don’t believe Tyrion would do that. You know him. He’s a good man.

Sansa was blind with rage just as Ser Royce stood up to question the decision in a manner more eloquent than she was capable of at the moment.

Jon responded with a speech about risks worth taking. Honestly, like father, like son. This was typical of him. Her poor bastard brother, determined to make a martyr out of himself. Perhaps it was his way of living up to the family name he aspired to. But martyrs made for useless kings. And lousy protectors.

“Now I know it’s a risk,” he finished, “but I have to take it.”

“Then send an emissary, don’t go yourself!” she pleaded, standing suddenly from her chair. It was everything she could do not to walk over and shake him until he came to his senses.

“Daenerys is a queen.” he replied calmly, “Only a king can convince her to help us. It has to be me.”

“You’re abandoning your people!” she cried desperately, “You’re abandoning your home!”

“I’m leaving both in good hands.”

“Whose?!”

“Yours.”

The great hall was all too crowded despite being deadly silent. All eyes were now on her. She looked around nervously. Just moments ago she and Jon had been the only ones in the room. Now it was full of strangers, all of them witnesses to the greatest act of trust and kindness she had ever experienced.

“You are my sister and the only Stark in Winterfell. Until I return, the North is yours.”

Sansa let out a breath. She couldn’t believe it. Jon had just given her the ultimate protection: power of her own. He was trusting her with his keep and his country, and for a moment she felt loved and happy. Then, out of the corner of her eye she saw him. Littlefinger, his eyes sparkling wickedly from the shadowy corner in which he was lurking. He was pleased, and that meant she should be worried. But Jon was still looking at her and she was drawn back to him, instantly feeling safer under his gaze. He nodded, giving her the command to rule his kingdom well. She nodded back. A promise to serve her king.

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It was quiet and dark in the crypt. Beneath Winterfell the Long Night and the death that came with it lingered long beyond the endless hours of dawn. Here lay the Kings of Winter, his father had said. He had often found Ned at his aunt Lyanna’s grave, deep in thought. Lost in snow drifts that had long since melted.

Jon was nervous. Going to Dragonstone was what his father would have done. Not Rob though. Rob made different mistakes.

Through his thoughts one image haunted his mind’s eye. The image of his sister begging him not to go. He could hear the fear in her voice as if it were echoing off the ancient walls around him. You’re abandoning your people! You’re abandoning your home!

He’d been home since the moment he saw her in the courtyard at Castle Black. They hadn’t been close, but that didn’t matter now. He’d known her for as long as he could remember. She was the sole survivor of the only happy memories he’d ever had. This castle was not his home.The Winterfell of his childhood had been burned to the ground and its ashes defiled by Ramsay Bolton. These people were not his home. Everyone he’d ever known had been slaughtered like sheep and they’re dying bodies used as trophies to terrorize the rest. There was only one piece of home left.

Sansa. Sansa was home. Sansa was fights over broken toys and petty insults. Sansa was proof that such an innocent time ever existed in the first place. Sansa was the existence of House Stark itself. Forget ancient stones and the tombs of kings who knelt. The Lady of Winterfell was his holdfast now.

“I delivered his bones myself.”

Jon turned to see Lord Baelish walking towards him. Instantly the hairs on the back of his neck stood up like the hackles of a wolf and his hand itched for the hilt of his sword.

“Presented them to Lady Catelyn as a gesture of good will from Tyrion Lannister.” Jon didn’t bother to look as the sniveling lord came to stand beside him. “Seems like a lifetime ago. Do give Tyrion my best when you see him.”

Jon smirked humorlessly. Eloquent as always. He wondered for the millionth time if Littlefinger had known what Ramsay was going to do to his sister. His fist clenched as he remember the dark bruises he’d seen on her pale white skin.

“I was sorry when he died.” Baelish said, pretending to admire his father’s image, “Your father and I had out differences but he loved Cat very much. So did I.”

Jon felt Baelish looking at him but had no interest in reciprocating. This man didn’t respect his father. His obsession with Catelyn was evidenced by the way he looked at Sansa when no one was looking. If he thought Jon hadn’t noticed, he was wrong.

“She wasn’t fond of you, was she?”

Jon’s blood turned ice cold. Catelyn’s hate had been brutal. A stain on the few fond memories he had.

“Well it appears she vastly underestimated you. Father and brother’s are gone yet here you stand. Last, best hope against the coming storm.

Anger flushed the cold from his bones at the insinuation that he was somehow victorious in being the last of his kind. Jon turned to Littlefinger, “You don’t belong down here.”

“Forgive me,” Baelish replied without an ounce of sincerity, “We haven’t ever talked, properly. I wanted to remedy that.”

“I have nothing to say to you.” he returned with no subtle intention before turning to leave.

“Not even thank you?” Littlefinger called after him.

Jon stopped in his tracks.

“If it weren’t for me you’d have been slaughtered on that battlefield. You have many enemies, my king, but I swear to you, I’m not one of them. I love Sansa, as I loved her mother.”

Jon barely had time to comprehend the treasonous words before he felt his face curl into a sneer and violent anger exploded through his body. All his saw was red. Whether it was the red of Sansa’s long hair or the red of Littlefinger’s bloody corpse he did not know but when he opened his eyes he had the wretched man pinned to the stone wall by the neck, his grip on his throat iron tight. Baelish squirmed and sputtered. Jon enjoyed watching him struggle to breathe. He saw Sansa’s bruises. The way she could barely walk when she’d first stumbled into his arms. The way she still flinched at sudden movements and didn’t like to be touched. He pressed harder, fueled by a rage he was unable to control. He was a king now, and that meant his sister would never be used as a tool again, but he could never free her from the desecration of her body that this man had caused. How dare he claim to love her. How dare he even speak her name. No unwanted hand would ever touch her again. Not as long as long as Jon breathed.

“Touch my sister,” he warned, “and I’ll kill you myself.” He released the pathetic excuse for a man and stalked out of the crypt before he murdered an unfortunately necessary ally. He wouldn’t have expected such a thing to upset him so violently, but the idea a man like that touching his sister made him want to smash something. The idea of any man touching his sister...

He shook off the thought before it had even formed and mounted his horse. Jon couldn’t help but turn back to look at the woman he had just nearly killed for. She looked so sad, standing on the balcony, but she also looked at home. Their eyes met and he waved. Sansa smiled sadly but waved back. He urged his horse forward and hoped to all the gods that he would see home again. Wherever she was.

Thanks for reading! Please review on ff.net or Ao3. Feedback brings the updates. I’m not even sure if anyone wants to read something like this but if there’s interest I’ll try to get the updates posted a couple days after the episode airs. Next I’ll be working on an update covering the Jon and Sansa scenes from 7x03 which will be posted by the end of the week.

If you would like to be tagged in future updates and/or sneak peeks just send me a message.

#jonsa #jonsa fic #canon compliant #eventual smut #jonsa fanfiction #jonsa ff #jon and sansa #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction

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the-unlost-wanderer · 7 years

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This past month and a half was both a blessing and a curse for me. A blessing because, ohmygoodness, I found so many amazing books; and a curse because, well, I spent my time reading instead of doing things I should have done. For example: school. I am so behind on school because of these books, I kind of hate them as much as I love them. I have no regrets, though. These books were worth it.

The Lunar Chronicles

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Goodreads Synopsis: Sixteen-year-old Cinder is considered a technological mistake by most of society and a burden by her stepmother. Being cyborg does have its benefits, though: Cinder’s brain interference has given her an uncanny ability to fix things (robots, hovers, her own malfunctioning parts), making her the best mechanic in New Beijing. This reputation brings Prince Kai himself to her weekly market booth, needing her to repair a broken android before the annual ball. He jokingly calls it “a matter of national security,” but Cinder suspects it’s more serious than he’s letting on.

Although eager to impress the prince, Cinder’s intentions are derailed when her younger stepsister, and only human friend, is infected with the fatal plague that’s been devastating Earth for a decade. Blaming Cinder for her daughter’s illness, Cinder’s stepmother volunteers her body for plague research, an “honor” that no one has survived.But it doesn’t take long for the scientists to discover something unusual about their new guinea pig. Something others would kill fo

I must admit, I wasn’t a huge fan of Cinder, but once I started Scarlet, I began to fall in love with the series.

Also, random fact, Thorne and I have the same birthday!

Cinder | Scarlet | Cress | Winter

The Wrath and the Dawn + The Rose and the Dagger

Goodreads Synopsis: One Life to One Dawn.

In a land ruled by a murderous boy-king, each dawn brings heartache to a new family. Khalid, the eighteen-year-old Caliph of Khorasan, is a monster. Each night he takes a new bride only to have a silk cord wrapped around her throat come morning. When sixteen-year-old Shahrzad’s dearest friend falls victim to Khalid, Shahrzad vows vengeance and volunteers to be his next bride. Shahrzad is determined not only to stay alive, but to end the caliph’s reign of terror once and for all.Night after night, Shahrzad beguiles Khalid, weaving stories that enchant, ensuring her survival, though she knows each dawn could be her last. But something she never expected begins to happen: Khalid is nothing like what she’d imagined him to be. This monster is a boy with a tormented heart. Incredibly, Shahrzad finds herself falling in love. How is this possible? It’s an unforgivable betrayal. Still, Shahrzad has come to understand all is not as it seems in this palace of marble and stone. She resolves to uncover whatever secrets lurk and, despite her love, be ready to take Khalid’s life as retribution for the many lives he’s stolen. Can their love survive this world of stories and secrets?

Everything was so beautifully written in these books, I wish I could speak as eloquently as they did in the books! The audio books were great as well, now I know how to pronounce everyone’s names.

The Wrath and the Dawn | The Rose and the Dagger

The Shatter Me Series

Goodreads Synopsis:

I have a curse I have a gift

I am a monster I’m more than humanMy touch is lethal My touch is power

I am their weapon I will fight back

Juliette hasn’t touched anyone in exactly 264 days.

The last time she did, it was an accident, but The Reestablishment locked her up for murder. No one knows why Juliette’s touch is fatal. As long as she doesn’t hurt anyone else, no one really cares. The world is too busy crumbling to pieces to pay attention to a 17-year-old girl. Diseases are destroying the population, food is hard to find, birds don’t fly anymore, and the clouds are the wrong color.

The Reestablishment said their way was the only way to fix things, so they threw Juliette in a cell. Now so many people are dead that the survivors are whispering war – and The Reestablishment has changed its mind. Maybe Juliette is more than a tortured soul stuffed into a poisonous body. Maybe she’s exactly what they need right now.

Juliette has to make a choice: Be a weapon. Or be a warrior.

I’ve seen the covers to the books of this series everywhere these past few years but never picked it up. I eventually decided to borrow the audio books from the library and was so glad I did. The narrator did an amazing job, I was able to feel the emotions just by listening to the audio book, and trust me, this series had a lot of them. This is literally the most angsty series I have ever read. Edit: I just found out that there is going to be three more books in the series, and I just have to say: if anything bad happens to Kenji, I will start a riot.

Shatter Me | Unravel Me | Ignite Me

The Scorpio Races

Goodreads Synopsis: It happens at the start of every November: the Scorpio Races. Riders attempt to keep hold of their water horses long enough to make it to the finish line. Some riders live. Others die.

At age nineteen, Sean Kendrick is the returning champion. He is a young man of few words, and if he has any fears, he keeps them buried deep, where no one else can see them.Puck Connolly is different. She never meant to ride in the Scorpio Races. But fate hasn’t given her much of a chance. So she enters the competition — the first girl ever to do so. She is in no way prepared for what is going to happen.

I honestly loved Puck so much. And Sean. And Corr. And Dove. And Finn. I think it’s safe to say I loved everything about this book.

Flame in the Mist

Goodreads Synopsis: The only daughter of a prominent samurai, Mariko has always known she’d been raised for one purpose and one purpose only: to marry. Never mind her cunning, which rivals that of her twin brother, Kenshin, or her skills as an accomplished alchemist. Since Mariko was not born a boy, her fate was sealed the moment she drew her first breath.

So, at just seventeen years old, Mariko is sent to the imperial palace to meet her betrothed, a man she did not choose, for the very first time. But the journey is cut short when Mariko’s convoy is viciously attacked by the Black Clan, a dangerous group of bandits who’ve been hired to kill Mariko before she reaches the palace.The lone survivor, Mariko narrowly escapes to the woods, where she plots her revenge. Dressed as a peasant boy, she sets out to infiltrate the Black Clan and hunt down those responsible for the target on her back. Once she’s within their ranks, though, Mariko finds for the first time she’s appreciated for her intellect and abilities. She even finds herself falling in love—a love that will force her to question everything she’s ever known about her family, her purpose, and her deepest desires.

I already wrote a review of this book but I must have re-read it again like two times in the past month.

Alex, Approximately

Goodreads Synopsis: The one guy Bailey Rydell can’t stand is actually the boy of her dreams—she just doesn’t know it yet.

Classic movie fan Bailey “Mink” Rydell has spent months crushing on a witty film geek she only knows online as Alex. Two coasts separate the teens until Bailey moves in with her dad, who lives in the same California surfing town as her online crush.Faced with doubts (what if he’s a creep in real life—or worse?), Bailey doesn’t tell Alex she’s moved to his hometown. Or that she’s landed a job at the local tourist-trap museum. Or that she’s being heckled daily by the irritatingly hot museum security guard, Porter Roth—a.k.a. her new archnemesis. But life is a whole lot messier than the movies, especially when Bailey discovers that tricky fine line between hate, love, and whatever it is she’s starting to feel for Porter.

And as the summer months go by, Bailey must choose whether to cling to a dreamy online fantasy in Alex or take a risk on an imperfect reality with Porter. The choice is both simpler and more complicated than she realizes, because Porter Roth is hiding a secret of his own: Porter is Alex…Approximately.

Literally the cutest book ever, not to mention the numerous times cookies and churros were mentioned. I must have eaten like three pounds of sugar while reading Alex, Approximately.

What do you think about these books? And what books have you been obsessed with lately?

love, jane.

the unlost book nook | twitter | goodreads | instagram | bloglovin

What books have YOU been obsessed with lately? This past month and a half was both a blessing and a curse for me. A blessing because, ohmygoodness, I found so many amazing books; and a curse because, well, I spent my time reading instead of doing things I should have done.

#All Blog Posts #Book Review #Books #Fiction #Teen #Teenage #Teens #YA #Young Adult

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jennycalendar · 7 years

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Imperfections (23/?)

ao3

am i going to go back to the intense daily update schedule??? probably. keeps me busy during this long, long, long vacation at least

Jenny was hovering by the staff room snack table trying to decide between muffins (blueberry was always nice, but she’d never tried cranberry walnut) when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her from behind, pulling her quickly into a nearby supply closet.

“Rupert!” she said, irritated.

Rupert turned her around, still holding her in his arms, his eyes very wide behind his glasses. “Mrs. Post is driving me mad,” he hissed.

“Do you remember,” said Jenny, “a time when you just said things like, you know, ‘Jenny, I’d like to speak with you in private’ instead of grabbing me while I’m picking a muffin and dragging me into supply closets to talk? I’m starting to really miss that.”

“Anywhere else and she would have found me,” Rupert said in a low whisper. “She’s been following me around all day telling me about some bloody Glove of Myhnegon and criticizing my books. My books!”

“Well, let me fire up the library computer and impress her with my online database, then,” said Jenny, placing a reassuring hand on Rupert’s chest. “I can do that. After lunch.”

Rupert gave her a grateful smile. “You’re a lifesaver,” he informed her, leaning in for a kiss.

“I think I saw him dash in here,” came Snyder’s voice from outside. “Probably off demonstrating thoroughly inappropriate conduct with that computer science teacher.”

“Computer science teacher?” Shit. That was Mrs. Post. “By any chance do you mean Jenny Calendar?”

Snyder scoffed. “Obviously you don’t know Mr. Giles that well if you have to ask. Those two are practically joined at the hip.”

“See,” said Jenny quietly, mostly trying to distract herself from genuine panic, “this is another problem with picking a supply closet as a meeting place. They catch us and they’re going to think that we came in here to—”

“Shh,” said Rupert, who seemed to be trying to simultaneously disentangle himself from Jenny and hide himself behind a mop handle.

The supply closet door opened.

“I should have known,” said Principal Snyder with disgust.

“We were just—talking about books,” said Jenny unconvincingly.

“You have lipstick on your mouth, Mr. Giles,” put in Mrs. Post, who was looking very smug.

“Is this going to go into the evaluation?” asked Rupert, who sounded as though he already knew the answer but was hoping it would somehow change.

“Oh, everything has to,” said Mrs. Post airily. “If you both would perhaps like to meet me back in the library? We really do have many things to discuss, and it might do to have your—” She frowned, looking at Jenny in a way that made Jenny kind of want to hit something. “To have your lady friend present,” she said finally, and with great disdain, before sweeping out of the room.

“Mr. Giles—” Snyder began.

“Stuff it,” said Rupert, grabbing a delighted Jenny’s hand and pulling her out of the staff room.

Jenny laughed, too in love to remember the gravity of the situation. “That was badass,” she teased him. “I’ve always wanted to see someone put Snyder in his place like that.”

“Yes, well, we have more important things than Snyder to—did you really think so?” Rupert stopped walking, looking down at Jenny with an adorable grin.

“I mean, yeah—” Jenny stopped too. “Wait. Okay. We’re doing exactly what Mrs. Post is here to prove that we’re doing.”

“Hmm?” Rupert blinked, smile fading a bit.

Jenny waved a hand. “You know, gazing moonily into each other’s eyes, forgetting that we’ve got an actual obstacle in front of us, things like that.”

“What? Oh! Right!” Rupert winced, beginning to walk again. “We really should get to the library.”

“Yeah, before we make things any worse,” Jenny said dryly. “I mean, assuming something’s worse than your evaluator catching us making out in a supply closet.”

“Oh, lord,” Rupert muttered as they entered the library.

Faith was sitting at the table, working quietly with her head down. It was a little jarring, but it touched Jenny a lot—seeing Faith trying meant that Faith wanted to stay in Sunnydale too.

“Mr. Giles.” Mrs. Post nodded to Rupert. “Jenny.”

“Gwendolyn,” said Jenny, more than a little pissed off by the subtle condescension. Rupert flashed her a warning look, but she kept going. “So if I don’t get a formality, does that mean we’re on the way to becoming best buddies?”

Faith looked up from her homework with a smirk.

“Hardly,” replied Mrs. Post smoothly. “It simply means that in comparison to Mr. Giles and myself, your status as a supernatural educator and mentor is somewhat limited.”

“Cool,” replied Jenny, giving Mrs. Post a saccharine smile. “Let’s see you try and work a computer, though.”

“Mrs. Post, you were talking about the Glove of Myhnegon,” said Rupert very loudly. “Why don’t we go back to talking about that?”

“Certainly,” said Mrs. Post, who was somehow still unruffled. Jenny wasn’t sure how Mrs. Post was managing it, because she wanted to kick something. “A demon named Lagos is coming here to the Hellmouth.” She glanced over at Giles. “Mr. Giles, an illustration of Lagos, if you please.”

“Oh—” Rupert blinked, hurrying to flip through one of the books on one of the tables. “Yes—er—”

“Perhaps later,” said Mrs. Post indifferently.

Rupert looked a badly repressed kind of indignant. Jenny was crossing her arms so that she wouldn’t accidentally punch Mrs. Post.

“Lagos seeks the Glove of Myhnegon,” Mrs. Post informed the group. “No record of this glove's full power exists, but we do know it is highly dangerous and must not fall into the hands of a demon. Lagos must be stopped.” She looked over at Jenny. “And as I said to Mr. Giles, if it's not too radical a suggestion, I thought we might kill him.”

“Right,” said Jenny dryly. “Because we were planning to ask him to dinner.”

“Well, I don’t know all that much about how you do things in America,” said Mrs. Post, looking coolly at Jenny. “Certainly not neatly.”

Jenny suddenly noticed her rumpled cardigan (see, this was what came of being pulled into a closet without warning) and indignantly straightened it.

“Moving on to more important things,” continued Mrs. Post, “I suggest two Slayers at full strength for a coordinated hunt. We believe the glove to be buried in a tomb somewhere, so Lagos will be headed for the cemetery.”

“Yeah, there’s more than one cemetery in Sunnydale,” said Faith.

“I see,” said Mrs. Post. “How many?”

“Twelve, within the city limits,” Rupert answered.

Mrs. Post sighed, like she’d never been on a long patrol in her life. “Well, we'll just have to take them one at a time.” She glanced over at Rupert, who had begun to flip through a book again. “Anything in your books that might pinpoint the exact location of the tomb would be useful, but then, we cannot ask for miracles.” After a moment’s pause, she turned to Jenny. “I’m sorry, Jenny, but in exactly what capacity are you currently of use to this situation?”

“I’m a technopagan,” replied Jenny smoothly. “And a kickass researcher to boot.”

“Hmm,” said Mrs. Post a little doubtfully. “I suppose we shall just have to see.” She turned to Rupert. “We will begin tonight at sunset,” she informed him. “Faith, I have a few questions for you. Come with me, please.”

Faith followed, glancing worriedly over her shoulder at Jenny. Jenny tried to smile encouragingly, but it came off a little more like a grimace.

Rupert waited until Mrs. Post and Faith had left the library before turning to Jenny. “That was not good,” he said. “That wasn’t worse than her catching us in the midst of a romantic rendezvous, but it came quite close.”

“I don’t like condescending people,” said Jenny fiercely. “You should be congratulating me for not saying anything worse than I did.”

Rupert sighed, then smiled a little tiredly. “Somehow,” he said, “though it also has the possibility to be quite catastrophic, I find your determination incredibly endearing.”

“Take it as a win and move on, England,” said Jenny, smiling back. “You know I’m not letting that stuck-up Watcher lady take Faith. It’s just not going to happen.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” said Rupert, his smile fading a bit.

“I’m glad I have this opportunity to talk to you, Faith,” said Mrs. Post with a polite smile. Her voice was a touch warmer than it had been with Jen and Giles. Faith registered this with more than just a touch of dislike. “There are many things about your current situation that I would like to discuss with you.”

“Yeah, well, let me set you straight,” said Faith. Jen had said think like a Watcher—Mrs. Post hadn’t pulled her punches with Jen, so Faith wasn’t going to pull her punches with Mrs. Post. “I’m good here. I’ve got a Watcher in Giles and a great teacher in Ms. Calendar, and I don’t like the way I’ve seen you treating them, so how about you cut the crap and leave Sunnydale before I decide to make you leave?”

Mrs. Post didn’t waver. Faith would have been impressed if not for the way she’d seen Mrs. Post treat Jen. “Faith,” she said with sympathy. “I’ve read quite a lot about you in the Council files. I completely understand your desire for a home, and I am sure that Mr. Giles and Jenny Calendar have done their best to provide you with one.”

This wasn’t at all the kind of attack on Giles and Jen that Faith had been expecting. “Huh?” she said, which was about as much eloquence as she could swing at the moment.

“You must understand that you are meant for bigger things,” Mrs. Post continued, “and that is where Jenny Calendar falls short. She desires to be your mother figure, and prioritizes your own future before the future of the world. You are the Vampire Slayer, Faith, and as intoxicating as it is to be loved, it is also seriously impairing your judgment.”

Faith felt sick. Mrs. Post’s words sounded true in a different way than Jen’s. Jen’s truths made her feel warm and safe, but Mrs. Post’s made her feel—something else. Like she was being shaken roughly awake. “You’re wrong,” she said.

“Am I?” Mrs. Post gave her that same polite smile. “As much as you wish to be a normal girl, you truly never can. Jenny Calendar is not a Council member, and as such, she can never truly understand the responsibilities of a Vampire Slayer. All I want, Faith, is for you to be in a place where you are able to understand those responsibilities as completely as you can, and I strongly doubt that Sunnydale is that place.”

Faith thought about Jen’s brilliant smile and Giles making eggs and Buffy’s soft blonde hair. “I want to stay here,” she said, half-desperately.

“I know,” said Mrs. Post, her voice soft and sympathetic. “And I certainly hope my evaluation will bring you to an eventually happy place. It’s very possible that you can stay in Sunnydale—I just don’t know if it’s the best idea that you continue to have regular contact with Mr. Giles, or any contact at all with his lover.”

“You don’t know me,” said Faith. She felt like she was grasping at straws. “You don’t know any of us enough to just pass judgments.”

“The evaluation is not a quick process,” Mrs. Post said, sounding somewhat surprised. “I certainly won’t be making snap decisions. What I would like is simply to know that you can trust me, and eventually accept me as your Watcher.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” said Faith, and got up, storming out of the room. Mrs. Post didn’t follow her, which was a small mercy.

#fic #imperfections #can't believe it's nearly 50000 words and i'm not even halfway done

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sorrowful-prince-pelleas · 7 years

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Thoughts on Panne and Reyson

For me, one of the worst moments in Awakening is the part where, after chapter 6, Emmeryn apologizes to Panne for what happened to the Taguel.

It’s an obvious attempt to parallel the scene in Path of Radiance where Sanaki apologizes to Reyson for the Serenes forest massacre, but without the necessary effort done to execute the scene well.

First and foremost, in Awakening, we know nothing about the Taguel before the apology. And even then, all we find out (before supports) is that Panne is the last Taguel, and that they were shapeshifters. And that her warren owes Ylisse a debt. And that humans killed Taguel.

Panne I am a taguel. The… The last taguel. We are shape-shifters. Most of your kind called us “beast” or “coney” in the midst of their hunt. I only helped you because my warren owes Ylisse a debt. Do not think us friends, you and I!

Panne Yes, it’s precious little your kind seem to understand. It was man-spawn like you that invaded our warren and slaughtered my people.

But the qestions still remain. What humans? Were they Plegians, Feroxians or Ylisseans? Why does she owe Ylisse a debt? It’s not very clear, and it makes Panne’s story convoluted and hard to understand. The relationship between her and Ylisse is hard to understand - she owes them for something, and yet hates them?

On the other hand, in PoR, we find out the entire story (or what isn’t supposed to be revealed later) before meeting Reyson.

Specifically,

Nasir It begins with the assassination of the previous Begnion apostle. It was twenty years ago… One year after the declaration of emancipation was made. The leader at the time was the Apostle Misaha, who was more adored by the public than any apostle before…or since. When she was assassinated, the citizenry was wracked with grief. All of Begnion despaired. And then, a rumor began to circulate that the assassination was the work of the Serenes herons. In the twinkling of an eye, the rumor spread throughout the Begnion capital. One night shortly thereafter, it happened. The citizens grew violent. They massed at the edge of Serenes Forest, home of their supposed enemy, and set it to burn. The crowd raged on for three nights, and in the end, the heron clan was lost. and

Nasir Apostle? The remainder of the tale is yours. You stand as the empress of Begnion. You are responsible for the acts of your citizens, are you not?

Sanaki …False. The accusation was completely false.

Ike The assassination of the apostle was not the work of the Serenes clan?

Sanaki That is correct.

Nasir The heron clan possess no fighting skills. Their tribe survived by living a life of peace and piety within their forest. Unlike other laguz, they never focused on developing their strength for the purposes of combat. Anyone with any knowledge of laguz would have known such a thing. At the very least, the citizens of Begnion would have known this. However, they had lost their leader, and in their grief, they cared little for the truth. They were merely looking for some way to vent their rage and despair. Isn’t that true…Apostle?

This sets up the story - we now know what happened, and this also sets up an arc where technically, Sanaki is to blame. The relationship between her and the bird tribes is clarified as well -

Nasir Ike, the bird tribes of Phoenicis target only Begnion ships with their piracy. The ravens of Kilvas are after cargo, and so they attack everyone with equal vigor. The hawk clans, however, hold the heron clan as brethren…and still remember the false accusations. And their brutal murder.

Another thing that hurts the Awakening version is that Emmeryn is not given a story arc though this, while Sanaki is.

Sanaki is first introduced as a selfish, rude, bratty girl - she makes people’s lives difficult on the boat by hiding, she makes fun of a grieving Elincia, and waves her power as an Empress around. However, in the following chapters, you see a slowly-emerging different side to her.

She tries to help the laguz, trying to go around the Senate. She wants to restore peace, and apologize to the heron clan for what she did.

Sanaki …I’m…sorry…I am ignorant as to what words of contrition will be appropriate to one of the heron tribe. Yet I stand before you as a representative of my people… From the depths of my heart I apologize to you… I am sorry… So truly sorry…

This line especially speaks about how Sanaki truly feels - despite her arrogance and her cruel words, despite her brilliant political mind and her ability to hide so much from her Senate and her people, she’s still the 12 year old Empress that’s reponsible for a genocide.

Leanne herself, a being that can read thoughts says :

Leanne (Brother..it is enough, is it not? Forgive this child. Her apology is…so sincere.)

This all comes together to show Sanaki in a very new light.

With Emmeryn, on the other hand, it doesn’t work. When she apologizes to Panne,

Emmeryn …There is truth to your words, perhaps. I’m told that, in taguel society, everyone is treated as an equal. Mankind could have learned much from your warren. The words may come too late and mean too little, but I am deeply sorry. We have stolen your friends and family and made the world a lesser place.

Panne …You seem sincere, man-spawn. You feel my pain as your own. …I’ve never felt that before. Look at me. …See what I am. I will never trust mankind. But you… Perhaps you truly are not like the others.

It doesn’t tell you anything new about the character - it doesn’t show you a different, more forgiving, more compelling side to Emmeryn, because she has never been portrayed as anything otherwise.

Sigrun Emp-Empress Sanaki! What are you doing? You are the apostle! You cannot bend your knee to another!

Ike Peace! Let her speak her heart.

Sigrun I…um…

Reyson …

Sanaki I’m sorry…I’m sorry…

Phila Your Grace—you had no fault in this!

Panne You claim to be blameless, and yet you would apologize? Pah! Your words are but wind.

Emmeryn I know… But they are all I have.

As well, in comparing the two post-apologies, Sanaki’s feels a lot more genuine - even when dealing with a genocide, Emmeryn is peaceful and optimistic and eloquent. Sanaki seems to be barely holding it together - and it hits home a lot more.

The reactions of the retainers, while the same, don’t work to the same effect - Sigrun seems genuinely shocked - this is not only not appropriate, but this is also out of character for Sanaki.

Why is Phila reacting so dramatically? This is not the first time that Emmeryn reacted calmly and apologetically to a situation.

In chapter 5, she responds to Gangrel’s taunting by saying

Emmeryn King Gangrel, I’ve come for the truth of this unfortunate incident between us.

So being needlessly polite is in character for Emmeryn, and something that she does decently often. So again, why is Phila so bizarrely surprised?

There’s also the third aspect of this scene doing nothing for Panne’s characterization, compared to it basically changing Reyson as a person - he goes from wanting humanity destroyed

Reyson Please, give me a little time. I cannot allow these humans to remain in the forest.

Tibarn I understand how you feel, but we’re completely outnumbered. Let us wait for another day–

Reyson Once I stand at the altar, I can take care of them. Every one of them.

Tibarn You can’t mean… Are you thinking of using the forbidden magic?

Reyson …Yes. I will sing those monsters the dirge of ruin.

and

Reyson I know. This thing I intend to do brings dishonor to my house. And yet…I cannot forgive. And their past actions weren’t enough; now, they violate the sanctity of the forest without a trace of regret! Accursed humans…I will never forgive them!

Tibarn That was the original plan, but…Someone here insisted that we follow you. Quite unreasonably, I might add.

Reyson You treated us with courtesy, beorc. We must act accordingly. Isn’t that so, Leanne?

Leanne (Yes, Yes, brother.)

Reyson You said your name was Ike, correct?

Ike Yes.

Reyson You aided my sister and me during a time of danger. We herons hold courtesy in high esteem. We must repay our debt to you.

Ike That’s really not necessary.

Reyson We are practitioners of seid magic. We cannot fight, but we can imbue our allies with strength. If you so wish it, I will travel with you. In this way I will repay you for what you have done.

through a combination of Ike and company saving his sister and Sanaki taking responsibility for what happened. That develops Reyson as a character and makes him interesting and three-dimensional.

Panne doesn’t change. She starts out disliking humanity, and continues to do that in her supports, leaving her as undeveloped as she was when you first met her.

#fire emblem awakening #fire emblem path of radiance #miss posts #emmeryn fire emblem #sanaki fire emblem #panne fire emblem #reyson fire emblem #miss writes

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kitliveblogs · 7 years

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so this is basically a long-ass rant disguised as a review of Little Mermaid II that I originally posted on a different blog. maybe someday I'll actually get back to that blog, but for right now the theme is broken and I can't read anything on it anymore.

so for now, this will live right here instead c:

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Everyone's already taken their shots at the notoriously bad Disney sequels made in the late 90s and early 2000s. They're basically a walking punch line just by existing. But really, not all of them are completely worthless, and a couple of them are even pretty enjoyable, in a hilarious "I can't believe they actually made this" sort of way.

But I'm here to talk about only the most heinous of cinematic disasters. And let me make one thing perfectly clear: this isn't just Kit being a bitter and cranky old fogy with a chip on her shoulder because the shitty sequel ruined her childhood. I mean, I am bitter and cranky, but The Little Mermaid II couldn't possibly lower my opinion of the original -- there's not really anything lower than rock bottom. (yeah I hate The Little Mermaid fight me)

This movie is just flat out that bad.

word count: 3070

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I'm just gonna get one thing out of the way right now: nothing about this movie frustrates me more than the cast. This cast is made up of particularly well-known voice actors, and it's heartbreaking that they all got wrangled into doing this shit. Jodi Benson (Ariel), Samuel E. Wright (Sebastian), Kenneth Mars (King Triton), and Buddy Hackett (Scuttle) all return to reprise their roles from the first movie, and Pat Carroll who played Ursula is here to play Morgana, the main villain and Ursula's conveniently-never-before-mentioned sister. Yeah. They're doing that. And on top of getting so much of the original cast, they also roped in:

Rob Paulsen (Eric)

Tara Strong (Melody)

Clancy Brown (Undertow)

Cam Clarke (Flounder)

Rene freaking Auberjonois as Chef Louis

and one my favorite VAs Stephen Furst as Dash, one half of the Timon and Pumbaa knock-offs for the film.

When just looking at the cast list pisses me off this much... I don't think this is going to be much fun.

A quick recap for those who have been living under a rock since the late 70s: The Little Mermaid is the story of Ariel, daughter of the ruler of Atlantica, who at the completely world-wise age of 16 decides she's had enough of life under the sea and wants to live with the humans on land. She turns to the sea-witch Ursula for help, and in exchange for her voice is given a pair of legs and a deadline: kiss the man of her dreams within three days or join the shriveled legion of Ursula's previous victims. Naturally the witch doesn't play fair and Ariel fails, and King Triton offers himself in exchange for his daughter, thus sacrificing his washboard abs and obscenely powerful trident to Ursula. One climactic battle later, Ursula's dead, Triton turns Ariel into a human, and she and Prince Eric live happily ever after.

Until the sequel, of course, where Ariel and Eric have a baby girl, Melody, which makes me question the exact biology of this bizarre offspring. I mean just look at this thing:

She was just born but she's got a full head of hair and disturbingly large blue eyes. It's freakish. But anyway, this is where movie number 2 begins.

And we're off to a good start: smacked in the face with a terrible music number. I would say get used to those, but there aren't really enough in the movie to warrant it -- which is pretty bad when you consider this is supposed to be a musical. Also, "listen to Ariel's Melody"? That's... wow. I can't even say that's cute in a sarcastic way that's just terrible.

But oh no! The party is interrupted by Morgana, who is, as Sebastian so eloquently puts it:

Oh good. I can see we'll be dealing with truly ingenious writing here.

So after stealing the baby Melody, ranting and raving about being better than her sister Ursula, and attempting to feed the baby to a shark (all while Ariel, Eric, and Triton stand there doing absolutely nothing), Morgana flees to the arctic. Wait, the arctic? Well, alright, you need to escape pursuit to a barren wasteland, that's fair. I won't linger on this for now, as the geography problems will get a lot worse later.

One of the main MacGuffins of the movie is a gold locket with Melody's name inscribed on it, that projects an image of Atlantica and plays a lullaby when opened. King Triton was giving it to the baby before Morgana came onto the scene, and after failing to find her in a massive search of the sea, Triton drops it in the water and leaves. This strikes me as odd. Wouldn't you want to hang onto it? As a keepsake of your family? Or at the very least dispose of it more properly, just in case Melody might one day, oh I dunno, find it and realize her mother and father had been lying to her her entire life? Nah, I'm sure it'll be fine.

Fast forward 12 years. A giant wall has been built on the shore to keep Melody and the ocean apart, but being a tenacious kid she naturally figured out a way around it. Or rather, under it. Which raises the question: if this child could figure out a way out, why couldn't Morgana figure a way in? It would have been a simple matter to slip under the wall, scale the outside of the tower with her suction cup-riddled tentacles, and kidnap the baby to hold for ransom. Why was it so imperative to wait until Melody found the locket before enacting her plan to steal the trident?

Oh, yeah, that thing I mentioned before about her finding it? Lo and behold, she discovered the damn thing on one of her jaunts to collect seashells (which are comically huge by the way). If only Triton had done literally anything else with it, this whole mess might have been avoided.

But no time to worry about that now; there's a birthday party to attend!

Through a convoluted mess of trying to hide her seashells and pretend she'd been in her room the entire time, Melody accidentally ties Sebastian into the dorky bow on the back of her party dress. I'm sure this will have no consequences down the line at all--

Huh. Didn't see that one coming. This leads to a ridiculous scene of Chef Louis chasing Sebastian around the ballroom like some sort of crazed lunatic. I know this was a thing from the first movie, but this guy is out of his fucking gourd; why do they keep him around? Ultimately, Melody runs off to her room out of embarrassment.

I really don't want to linger on anything for too long since this movie doesn't deserve that much energy, but there's two things about this scene I need to address. One: so basically if Sebastian had just remained calm and waited it out... none of this would have happened? I think the blame for this one falls on him. And two: why the hell are all these other children making fun of Melody? I know she's ~weird~ and all, but she's the freaking princess. Don't you think they'd know better than exclude the princess of the entire kingdom? I would want to stay on her good side is all I'm saying.

Anyway. Melody finally takes a good look at the locket and realizes something's up, confronting her mother about Atlantica. Okay, Ariel, here's your chance. If you just explain the situation, she'll understand and maybe you could even take her to Atlantica under heavy guard or something so she can finally meet her damn grandfather.

Or you could just get mad. Getting mad is good too.

Naturally after that Melody decides to take off, rowing a rather conveniently placed boat out to sea to try and figure it all out for herself. While she meets Undertow and agrees to follow him to Morgana, Sebastian is back at the castle psyching himself up to tell Ariel that Melody ran away.

WAIT. YOU DIDN'T KNOW? IT'S BEEN TWELVE YEARS AND YOU HAD NO IDEA SEBASTIAN WAS KEEPING AN EYE ON MELODY??

So in the end, a) Ariel is the least observant person in the world, b) Sebastian never once told her about Melody's excursions beyond the wall (remember that for later), and c) Triton didn't bother to let Ariel know he'd assigned Sebastian the job, continuing the family cycle of not communicating with each other. In hindsight all this bullshit family drama isn't that surprising.

Back to Melody and Morgana (yes, somehow Undertow and the manta ray minions hauled the boat to the arctic in just a couple of hours), Morgana is doing what she does best: whining about Ursula. Honey, I don't think your mother favored her because she was the oldest; I'm pretty sure it has something to do with the fact that Ursula was actually competent and managed to accomplish her goals. Plus her magic is clearly more powerful than yours, since you have to use one of her potions to turn Melody into a mermaid.

OH MY GOD A SONG. I forgot this movie was supposed to have those. It's an upbeat little tune about learning to swim with her new tail, which quickly evolves into a duet with her mother and finding their "worlds:" Melody finding a place she belongs underwater, and Ariel keeping Melody safe. It's boring, but at least Tara Strong can sing well, and Jodi Benson can still belt it out like she could twenty years ago.

Morgana tells Melody that the spell will only last for two days, and that in order to make it permanent, she'll need the "powerful trident that was stolen from her." I'm sure you're as shocked as I was when it was revealed that she didn't just want a puppy and someone to make her pie. So off Melody goes with naught but determination and a map carved into a block of ice. Wait. That seems... poorly designed.

There aren't even words on it. Now I'm no cartographer, but that seems like a pretty major flaw for a map.

Meanwhile, Ariel has joined the search for Melody as a mermaid again, because apparently, according to Eric, "You should go. You know these waters -- and you know our daughter." Um. I'm not even sure where to begin with that one. Let's just say I agree with half that statement; I'll give you one guess which half.

Back in the arctic-- Stop. Okay look. I liked Timon and Pumbaa well enough. Timon had his moments of obnoxiousness, but Nathan Lane was likable enough to always bring it back, and Pumbaa is still my favorite character from The Lion King. But lemme tell ya, I HATE what Timon and Pumbaa did to Disney for a while. They wanted quirky, amiable sidekicks that would keep the kids entertained and distract from the lion sex happening in the background. I can understand that. But when every kid walked away singing Hakuna Matata and the Disney execs realized what they'd stumbled on, every movie afterward that was bound to fail miserably tried to shoehorn in a pair that would have the same appeal to sell more merch. Timon and Pumbaa themselves wound up with their own movie and a SATURDAY MORNING CARTOON SHOW. YEAH. THAT REALLY HAPPENED.

Why do I bring it up? Do you really have to ask?

Meet Tip and Dash, your knock-offs for the evening.

They are, as they put it, "adventurers slash explorers." That might have actually been a good way of setting them apart from the lackadaisical Timon and Pumbaa -- except that in their very first scene they attempt to save a baby penguin from a shark and completely botch the whole thing by being complete cowards. And then when the penguin family gets upset and berates them for their piss-poor job, the movie has the audacity to frame this like we should feel sorry for them. Movie, I refuse to sympathize with them when all the criticism against them is CORRECT. Also sharks don't live in the arctic. Neither do walruses. Just throwing that out there.

From there they bump into Melody, and she convinces them to take her to Atlantica, since Morgana was an idiot for carving the map into an easily-breakable piece of ice. By the way, for the record, Dash is the only likable character in this entire movie, but even then that's not saying much when you consider I'm biased because of his VA. He's the one that actually agrees to help Melody because she's "a damsel in distress," and doesn't care that she's actually a human-turned-mermaid. Come to think of it, this could have been a really good analogy for trans youth, but that probably would have been way too complicated a subject for a shitty Disney sequel.

Also I was gonna skip this part but it's stuck in my head so I'd like to introduce you to the CATCHIEST AND MOST OBNOXIOUS SONG IN ANY MOVIE EVER. Like damn! That would be an accomplishment if it wasn't so terrible. And I'm not exaggerating; I'm completely immune to It's A Small World, but THIS? This garbage sticks to me like glue. (and if you decided to skip the song you now have It's A Small World in your head so either way you have to SUFFER WITH ME)

Ahem. Moving on.

The Three Stooges here finally make it to Atlantica, just barely missing Ariel, Triton, and Flounder going the other way. Flounder, in the past twelve years, has had about five annoying kids and developed a dad belly. It's not really relevant to anything but it's just hilarious to me that even fish can have dad bellies. But there's only a half hour of this turd left, so let's keep chugging along.

On their way into the palace they bump into a piece of-- what? Fish jailbait? Jail fish bait? Eh, whatever. THEY BUMP INTO THIS KID:

Yes, as a matter of fact it was. Even though Atlantica is clearly in tropical waters. Starfish, sea urchins, and crabs all live in tropical waters, whereas penguins live in colder climates. This geography is seriously messed up. I don't think anyone on the creative team even bothered to so much as glance at a map while making this -- which would also explain the terrible ice map, I suppose.

Melody swipes the trident and heads back to Morgana's lair. Cloak and Dagger, the two manta ray minions (I know, subtle), follow behind, and Ariel catches sight of them. She and Flounder in turn follow them, discovering the witch's hiding place in the arctic. Personally my first thought was "So, we've looked everywhere actually means except there because it's cold as balls and nobody wanted to?" but Ariel's a bit more focused than I was by this point.

Ariel tries to send Flounder back, to let Triton know where they are, but Flounder, being an idiot, says he won't let her go in there alone. DUDE. GO GET HELP. Who does, in fact, go to get help? Why Scuttle, of course!

And it's all your fault, bro.

Ariel rushes in in the nick of time to stop Melody from handing over the trident, but naturally the two of them get into the argument that puts the final nail in coffin. Melody actually says "You knew how much I loved the sea!" but I'd like to refer you back to the facts. Melody and Ariel never had an honest and open conversation about, well, anything. The closest evidence we have to support this statement is that Melody thought Atlantica was just an old fish tale, which means at some point Ariel told her stories about it and the mermaids. Otherwise there's just genetics: your mother's a mermaid so you must love the sea too. That's an awfully big leap. And there's the fact that Sebastian never told Ariel about Melody's adventures outside the wall. She had zero idea about any of it. So how could she have possibly known how much Melody loved the ocean, outside of sheer guesswork?

Oh, but "you know our daughter." Well if you SAY it it MUST be true!

By the by, Melody's little realization here of "I have made a horrible mistake" when she gives Morgana the trident is just priceless.

De-licious.

Finally we've reached the big battle. Morgana builds herself a big fuck-off tower of ice, and we're ready for action.

Scuttle, in a rare moment of non-stupidity, comes soaring in, tailed by Prince Eric's ship. Before blasting it to pieces Morgana asks, "Come to join the party?" and I have to agree; where the hell have you been for the last 40 minutes, anyway, Eric? ALSO

And I present you the only funny line in the movie:

...If it feels like I'm rushing through this it's only because I am.

After getting the trident, Morgana had sealed Melody and Flounder into an ice cavern. Unfortunately for her, Melody's two days are now up, and she turns back into a human in a chamber full of water. Tip and Dash rush in to save her, and come face-to-face with a full-sized Undertow. Through a not-at-all suspenseful sequence of the shark chasing them around, they manage to trick him into ramming the ice wall trapping Melody and Flounder, and get her back up to the surface. Where she just. wakes up. No coughing water or dizziness or trouble breathing. NOPE. Her eyes open as soon as she hits air and she's good to go.

Disney: showing the lighter side of almost drowning.

As Morgana fulfills her power fantasy of getting everyone to bow down to her and shrieking "WHO'S YOUR FAVORITE NOW, MA" (yeah I'm pretty sure it's still Ursula), Melody scales the ice tower in an attempt to retrieve the trident. If nothing else, this movie shows a very inaccurate portrayal of trying to walk on ice. Unsurprisingly, Melody succeeds and tosses the trident back to Triton, who seals Morgana in a block of ice to rest forever at the bottom of the sea.

So Ursula was literally stabbed through the chest with an entire boat and died but Morgana gets punked out in a block of ice? Weak.

The family reconciles, Melody takes the whole "grandfather" thing a little too well, and the movie ends with them tearing down the wall so the humans and merpeople can interact freely from now on.

I only have two questions before I finally shut up about this stupid stupid movie:

1. So does the whole kingdom just sort of take it in stride that a) merpeople exist and b) the prince married one? 2. How can a movie that's only an hour and ten minutes long sans credits feel SO MUCH LONGER

This whole thing was ridiculous from the jump. Who was demanding a sequel to the Little Mermaid of all freaking things? Who really wanted to see sequels to any of the movies from the Disney Renaissance? And there are quite a few of them. Like I said, some of them can be pretty enjoyable if you like cheesiness. But most of them are just terrible like this one, and if you're wondering whether you'll be seeing more of the Dark Age of Disney, don't worry. Their days will come.

#feel totally free to ignore this honestly c:#watching: Little Mermaid II

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