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dishonestlies-if · 4 months

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(Dis)honest Lies

Demo: TBA || About The Archivists Age Rating: 16+ CW: Violence, death, child endangerment, child death/descriptions of child death, classism, manipulation, forced isolation/confinement (technically?), parental neglect, mild homophobia RO-specific CWs (contains spoilers): here

The king is dead, cries the crowd of mourners that line the path towards the Royal Tombs. As you walk down behind your father's coffin, you note that there are no commoners among them. Not surprising, given they are not allowed to entire the palace grounds, though you wonder if anyone beyond these walls are mourning with you. Your father was a much-beloved king, but no one beyond the Court had ever met him - or you, for that matter, or any of your predecessors since the Curse took effect. You wonder briefly what the outside world is like - the Advisors describe it as a beautiful place of wonder and innovation, at least in the capital. Perhaps the people are holding their own ceremony out there, in honour of your father.

You turn your attention back to the procession. There will be time to ponder this later.

You have a speech to give, a coronation to attend, a kingdom to rule.

There is no place for such pointless thoughts. You were born in this palace, and in this palace will you die. You will never see the outside world.

Will you?

Play as the newly crowned monarch of Batrinoa! Bring your kingdom to new heights, or send it plummeting into chaos - the choice is yours, and yours alone. After all, you are the monarch - who would dare defy your authority?

Customize the MC Veridas (27) (name changeable); gender, appearance, personality, etc!

Be swept off your feet by five potential love interests (gender selectable) - or don't! You can be swept off your feet by friends, too. And enemies. But that might be a bad idea.

Ally with your neighbours, or start a war - Batrinoa is powerful, why not utilize your military and expand your territory?

Solve problems that arise in your nation, or make them worse - where there's money to be had, who really cares if a few peasants die?

Face crushing moral dilemmas that make you question your reality!

Find the truth behind the web of lies that surround the Court - there are many hidden secrets, and if you look in the right places, you might find them. Assuming, of course, that they don't kill you first.

And why in the name of the Divine do you keep seeing the Archivist-in-training in your dreams?! You barely even know her!

Love Interests

The Guard Caelum/Celestine/Calytrix Hildebrand (28) is the fourth child of the Hildebrand family, your best friend and confidant, and godparent of your daughter. As children, you were inseparable, and even when C was in the army you kept in touch. Now they serve as your loyal guard - wherever you go, they will follow. It is their duty, after all; what the monarch wants, the monarch will get, nevermind how they feel about it. So long as it makes you happy, there is little they won't do to achieve it.

The Silver-Tongued Minister Elias/Elora/Elwyn Alinac (29) is Head of the House of Alinac, one of the Four Great Families and a member of the Advisors. They are, without a doubt, the Court's most charming noble. Intelligent and quick-witted, Batrinoa's Director of Foreign Affairs is well-versed in the art of communication, especially when it pertains to getting what they want. There are flocks of men and women alike who would kill to hold E's attention for even a fraction of a second. Fortunate, then, that they only seems to have eyes for you.

The Unapproachable Advisor Orpheus/Odette/Odilon Marchand (26) is Head of the House of Marchand, one of the Four Great Families and a member of the Advisors. O is rather unpopular with the nobility and common folk alike; their blunt speech, cold demeanour, and prickly personality make for rather unpleasant company, though none can deny their skill as Batrinoa's newest Minister of Finance. They maintain a professional distance from everyone around them, but perhaps you can close that gap - surely it must be a lonely existence, to hold everyone at arm's length as they do.

The Revolutionary Mervyn/Maira/Maverick (27) is a commoner of Batrinoa, a tailor who lives with their mother and three siblings near the slums of the capital. Passionate and rebellious, they abhor the monarchy and how the nation is run, and everyone knows it; M is an outspoken critic of the throne, and far from the only one. As the new monarch, you are the very pinnacle of everything they despise - can you show them that you are willing to do what your predecessors would not, or will you just add fuel to the fire?

The Flirtatious Informant Legacy (29) is the best informant in your employ (and the best assassin). They once swore loyalty to your father; now, they serve you. They're a shameless flirt, and never serious - about anything, really, not even their own life. You've asked where they came from, but you've received 14 different back stories at this point and you're not sure they're even capable of telling the truth if it doesn't pertain to their job. You wonder how Legacy ended up in this employ; surely this is not a job most would willingly choose to pursue?

Other Characters

Alix Morozov - your late spouse, the other biological parent of your daughter, and a relative of Drelix's King Vsevolod. They died three years ago, leaving you a single parent. Your marriage was for two reasons only - to end the war between your kingdoms, and to produce a precautionary heir for the Batrinoa line. Having succeeded in both, you considered them a good person and a dear friend, though there was never any love in your relationship.

Luminosa 'Lumi' Batrinoa (5) - your daughter from your marriage with Alix. Now that you are monarch, she is heir to the throne and the only other member of the Batrinoa bloodline. A lofty title that may be, though it paints a massive target on her back. You can only hope you will not need to arrange a political marriage for her.

Beau Marchand (32) - the disgraced son of the Marchand family, his reputation for debauchery and excess is known far and wide throughout the capital. You remember him vaguely, having interacted with him as a child, though you haven't seen him since he was disowned thirteen years ago. O has since restored Beau to the family, but you have yet to see him return.

Dolion (53) - the Archivist, sometimes called the Secret-Keeper. One of the Blessed, his Miracle naturally makes people rather wary of him, and his sour demeanor does nothing to help his case. At the very least, none of the Advisors seem to like him, though you're fairly certain that's more because he was born a commoner rather than a child of the nobility.

Fialova Solanaceae (20) - Dolion's successor, the current Archivist-in-training. Timid and shy, she seems to dodge you at every opportunity, though you often catch her staring as if she has something she'd like to say. There's more to her than meets the eye, but are you brave enough to seek out the skeletons in her closet?

Helianthus Solanaceae (54) - Head of the House of Solanacaea, one of the Four Great Families and a member of the Advisors. She is the supreme judge of Batrinoa's legal system and handles all legal affairs within the kingdom's borders. As your godmother, she cares greatly for your well-being. She would happily spoil Luminosa rotten if you didn't stop her in time.

Volker Hildebrand (61) - Head of the House of Hildebrand, one of the Four Great Families and a member of the Advisors. Arrogant and conceited, he takes great pride in being the Minister of War. Objectively the most powerful member of the Council, he has the nation's military at his beck and call and takes great joy in lording over the other Advisors. The Court has no great love for him, though none can deny that it was mainly thanks to him that the war with Drelix went as well as it did. Though he has little interest in anything besides battle and bloodshed, he has returned to the capital for your coronation and to assist you in acclimating to your new position.

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patheticdarling · 2 years

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The Man I Once Knew

Summary: Reader is the twin to Jacaerys and second-born child, to the newly crowned Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. Her mother worries for her younger brother as he is sent off to Storm’s End, so she has her daughter tail her brother. And Y/N comes just in the nick of time as she comes face-to-face with her formerly betrothed and first love, Prince Aemond Targaryen.

Warnings: ANGST (my fav)/incest (always with the Targaryens)/cussing/fighting/blood/threats/dragons/Luke doesn’t die but Y/N.../i have no right to characters or dialogue/sorry if the High Valyrian isn’t right (i used a translator lol)

Word Count: 3650 (pretty lengthy)

*NOT MY GIF*

“Y/N?” your mother approached you in your chambers, a worried look on her face.

You stood from the table, breaking away from your previous conversation with your stepsisters, “Mother? What is it?”

Baela and Rhaena took your mother’s look as more than enough instruction for them to leave. She approached you, taking your hands, “I’ve just sent your brothers away and I..” her voice shook.

“Mother, I’m sure Jace and Luke are more than competent. They’re some of the finest dragon riders in the Seven Kingdoms.”

“I can’t get Luke’s face out of my head,” you led her to sit down, she had had an exhausting past couple of days, “My sweet boy. Scared to death.”

“Luke is,” you pondered, “Strong.” her jaw tensed, “I know, Mother.”

Whenever people had called you or your brothers “strong” it was never meant as a compliment, it was the most legal way for them to say that you were bastards and your mother was a whore, according to your late Uncle Vaemond.

“I shouldn’t have let him go. He’s only four-and-ten.”

“Same age you were when Grandsire named you as his heir.”

“And I don’t want Luke or Jace or Joffrey or you to ever have to experience the pressure and hate that I’ve had to endure these past years. I can’t do it. Luke cannot do this alone.”

“Mother, what’re you saying? I thought you said Lord Borros would be honoured to host Luke.”

“I may have spoken too soon. Luke is still a boy. Lord Borros may see us sending him as an insult.”

“Tell me what it is you want me to do and I will see it done.”

She squeezed your hands, “Go after your brother. Fly to Storm’s End and help him.”

You nodded, “Yes, Your Grace.”

Your mother smiled at you before pulling you into her warm embrace, “My brave girl. Fly safe and quick.”

You gave her one last reassuring smile before going off. You mounted Seasmoke, a gift from your paternal grandparents after your father had died.

“Alright, valītsos. Let’s jikagon. Sōvegon,” you cooed at the dragon before flying off. Alright, boy. Let’s go. Fly.

Seasmoke was one of the fastest dragons in the realm, you arrived at Storm’s End in haste. A storm had just begun as you landed in the courtyard.

You dismounted from your dragon, giving him a thankful pet before you approached the guards, “I am Princess Y/N Velaryon. I bring a message to Lord Borros from my mother, the Queen.”

They bowed in unison before moving to usher you inside. Before you made it up the castle steps, you heard a deep growl from the distance. You turned as the lightning illuminated the silhouette of the most fearsome dragon in the world. But it wasn’t Vhagar who sent chills down your spine, it was the thought of reuniting with the one who wrongfully stole her years ago.

You walked into a tense hall, Lord Borros looking visibly annoyed as he spoke to your brother. Luke looking petrified but trying his best not to show it. And Aemond Targaryen, standing there as smug as ever.

“Princess Y/N Velaryon,” the guard introduced you, abruptly interrupting the conversation.

Your younger brother looked over at you, a raised brow, “What’re you doing here?” he muttered.

“Mother sent me,” you answered quickly before going to address the head of house, “Lord Borros,” you curtsied.

“Princess,” he greeted, his annoyed demeanor seemed to ease. Your beauty was a renowned thing in the realm and nearly every man had asked for your hand the older you had gotten, still you remained unbetrothed, your mother hadn’t dared make the same mistake again. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“My brother and I were sent as envoys from our mother, Queen Rhaenyra.”

The lord sighed, creepily taking you in, “Ah yes. I’ve just read your mother’s terms. And as I was telling your brother, King Aegon has also made me an offer. His also entails a marriage pact.”

You followed Lord Borros’ eyes as they fell onto Aemond and a younger brunette who stood next to him, the girl you assumed to be his betrothed. Aemond continued to smirk smugly.

“You were offered the Prince Aemond’s hand, my lord?”

“Yes, I was. Your mother seems to have offered me nothing in exchange for my armies. As your brother was just saying, he’s already betrothed.”

“That he is. To the Lady Rhaena Targaryen. As is my eldest brother, Prince Jaecarys, heir to the Iron Throne,” Lord Borros huffed in his seat, “However, I would advise my lord to not take the word of the brother of a usurper as an honest one.”

You glared over at Aemond, “And what is it that you mean, my Princess?” Lord Borros narrowed his brow, “King Aegon was crowned before the masses by the High Septon himself-”

“He did so knowing that King Viserys had named Queen Rhaenyra as his heir. Your father swore House Baratheon to my mother’s claim. The word of honourable men is what the realm depends upon. And believe me when I say this, Lord Borros, the usurper King Aegon is no honourable man. And neither is his brother.”

“Skoros ao ȳdragon iksis treason, Dārilaros,” Aemond finally hissed. What you speak is treason, Princess.

Your eyes met his, “Issa se truth, Dārilaros.” It is the truth, Prince.

“Y/N, please-” Luke tried to intervene.

“Lord Borros, I was once betrothed to the Prince Aemond,” your eyes had now met the Prince’s once again, “Many years ago. I thought we might be happy as husband and wife. But that was before his family betrayed mine. Before he proclaimed my brothers and I illegitimate, committing treason and suffering no punishment for it due to the soft heart of my grandfather. Before he stole my dead aunt’s dragon that was her mourning daughter’s right to claim. Before his mother cut mine and paid no price. Before him and his family conspired to murder my grandsire and steal my mother’s throne.”

“Enough,” Aemond spoke up.

You shook your head at him as tears of frustration welled in your eyes, “Tell me, Lord Borros. Is that the type of man you want bedding your daughter? Siring your grandchildren? My mother saw what sort of man the prince truly was. And so did I.”

“I said enough!” Aemond tried to rush at you, Luke trying to step in front of you before you pushed him behind you.

He stopped just before you, “Is that all you’ve got to say, my Prince?”

Aemond’s breathing was ragged as his eye stayed fixated on you, “Look at you,” his eye ran over your figure, “a woman grown.”

Your eyes never left his as the guards pulled him back across the room, Aemond shoving them off as he walked the rest of the way himself.

“My mother will expect your answer on the morrow, Lord Borros. And not a moment later. Lest you want to be served with fire and blood.”

You turned to your younger brother, he nodded at you, “Let’s go home.”

Both you readied to leave, “Wait.” Aemond’s voice rang in the hall, “Lord and Lady Strong.” Your bodies both tensed at his words, “Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”

“We will not fight you,” your brother spoke up, “I came as a messenger, not a warrior,” Luke quoted your mother, still you both gripped the swords attached to your hip.

“A fight would be little challenge,” Aemond muttered to himself, “No,” his hand moved to his eye patch as he peeled it off, “I want you to put out your eye.”

He had revealed the sparkling sapphire that sat where his eye once was. Most in the hall were shocked, they had never seen something so bizarre and frightful. You would’ve felt the same way had you not been the one who gifted Aemond the sapphire anonymously on his name day years ago. It was meant to be a necklace for your betrothed before the incident on Driftmark. Only you, your mother, and Queen Alicent knew. Both swore never to tell after the events that occurred to put it there in the first place.

“As payment for mine,” Aemond continued as he stared down your brother, “One will serve,” he pulled the dagger from his side and threw it across the room to your brother’s feet, “I would not blind you. Mm, plan to make a gift of it to my mother.”

Your jaw tensed as Lucerys eyed the dagger before meeting Aemond’s intimidating stare, “No.” his voice firmer than it had ever been before.

“Then you are craven as well as a traitor,” Aemond spoke.

“Ao sagon se nāpāstre, Uncle,” you hissed back. You’re the traitor, Uncle.

“Not here,” Lord Borros attempted to intervene.

Aemond took off towards your brother, “Give me your eye or I will take it, bastard!” he had snatched the dagger from the floor and charged at Luke.

You pushed him out of the way again, caging him in with the guards as you both drew your swords.

“Not in my hall!” Lord Borros’ own voice had now erupted and echoed off the walls.

You stared up at Aemond, daring him to make another move or say another word with your venomous gaze. His chest rose and fell as you continued to vex one another with just your eyes.

“The boy came as an envoy. I will not have bloodshed beneath my roof,” Lord Borros spoke, “Take Prince Lucerys back to his dragon. Now.”

You and Aemond’s gaze never broke as Luke sheathed his sword and followed the guards out.

“Princess,” Lord Borros again tried to intervene, “I think you should be going as well. I will not have a Princess of the Seven Kingdoms’ blood on my hands.”

“It’s the Prince’s blood you should concern yourself with, my lord,” you spoke before finally sheathing your weapon. Aemond following suit with his dagger, “Your answer on the morrow, Lord Borros.”

The rest of the Baratheon guard escorted you into the courtyard, the storm was now in full effect as you watched Lucerys mount Arrax.

You mirrored his actions as you climbed Seasmoke, you looked back over the castle walls as lightning struck once more. Vhagar was gone. Now you and Luke were truly in danger.

“Īlon jorrāelagon naejot jikagon sir, lēkia,” you instructed your brother over the storm. We need to go now, brother.

His eyes fell to where Vhagar once was, worry growing in them shortly after noticing the dragon’s disappearance. Luke nodded towards you before you both instructed your dragons to take off. Seasmoke was larger than Arrax and still struggled against the harsh winds and rains just as much. You knew Aemond, more than most, he couldn’t have been far behind. Revenge was now fresh on his mind once again. He wouldn’t stop until he had your brother’s eye or more, for all you knew.

“Sagon gīda, Seasmoke,” you tried to ease your dragon, hoping to not radiate your stresses unto him. Be calm, Seasmoke.

There was a loud roar from behind you, you looked back to ensure Luke was unharmed but his eyes were already fixated on the dark shadow that had been cast above the both of you. It disappeared for a moment, both of you trying to find it again in the thick clouds and heavy rain. You turned forward again just in time to evade the enormous jaws of Vhagar, veering Seasmoke off to the right. Luke being able to do the same with Arrax.

“Stay calm, Luke!” you shouted to him.

“What do we do?!” he shouted back.

“We’re faster than him. He knows it,” you yelled, “Ȳdra daor sagon zūgagon, Luke. Iksan lēda ao, valonqar.” Don’t be afraid, Luke. I’m with you, little brother.

Luke’s demeanor calmed a bit at your words. Yet you could still hear Aemond’s dreadful laugh and Vhagar’s deep growls as you continued to fly. They were both now on Luke’s tail, Aemond shouting in High Valyrian but his words washed out by the storm.

“Y/N!” Luke called out to you.

“Hold steady, Luke. Follow me!” you lead the two of your smaller dragons into a narrow canyon, knowing Vhagar was much too large. There was a brief calm where you looked at your little brother.

“What do we do? He’ll never leave us alone.”

You took a deep breath, “Listen to me and do not argue. You are going to continue through this canyon and you are not to stop going on until you return to Dragonstone, am I clear?”

“But what about you?” You just looked at him, the truth written in your eyes, “No! He’ll kill you, Y/N. I can’t let you-”

“Yes, you can,” you spoke softer, “Avy jorrāelan, valonqar. Sagon kostōba.” I love you, little brother. Be strong.

“Kostilus, mandia.” Please, sister. His eyes tearing up. You just shook your head before taking off towards the top of the canyon, “Y/N!” Luke’s pleading voice faded out as Seasmoke pulled you both out of the canyon.

“Aemond!” you shouted, now behind him. He turned on Vhagar, eyeing you, “Henujagon zirȳla mērī.” Leave him alone.

“Se skoro syt should gaoman bona, ñuha Dārilaros?” Aemond yelled back. And why should I do that, my Princess?

“Ziry won't vīlībagon ao. Yn kesan, ñuha Dārilaros.” He won’t fight you. But I will, my Prince.

“Seasmoke stands no chance against Vhagar.” When he broke from speaking to you in High Valyrian, you knew you had struck a nerve back in Storm’s End. As children and as lovers, you and Aemond loved to speak to one another in High Valyrian. The language made your connection that much more intimate.

“I’d be stupid not to realize that fact, Uncle. So why don’t we put the dragons aside? Let the steel sing instead.”

“If you’d rather die slower. Then so be it.”

You both landed your dragons on a nearby beach. Both of the beasts growled at one another before you and Aemond commanded them to be still. Seasmoke took the sky while Vhagar rested, she was an older dragon after all.

You drew your sword, “Iksan vaoreznuni ēdas naejot māzigon naejot bisa, Uncle.” I’m sorry it had to come to this, Uncle.

“Apologetic, issi īlon? lī doe laesi won't mirre va nyke.” Aemond sneered. Apologetic, are we? Those doe eyes won’t work on me.

You batted your lashes, “Daor dombo, nyke suppose. Iksā betrothed tolī mirre.” Not anymore, I suppose. You are betrothed after all.

Aemond yanked out his sword, gripping it tightly, “Ao sagon sepār angry ziry iksos daor naejot ao dombo.” You’re just angry it’s not to you anymore.

“Relieved iksis tolī hae ziry. Yn nyke apologize lo bona saddens ao, ñuha Dārilaros,” you smirked. Relieved is more like it. But I apologize if that saddens you, my Prince.

That seemed to be the final straw for Aemond as he charged towards you. Your swords met with a fierce clang as your fight began. The two of you had grown up training against one another, so this was to be an inevitably long fight. Both of you were well aware of how the other fought and hence, knew how to defend yourselves against one another. But Aemond had grown stronger over these years, I suppose seeking vengeance and also attempting to train the world’s most powerful dragon will do that to someone. But you never wanted to hurt Aemond, not seriously anyhow. He was a pretentious prick and a gods awful person but he was still your first love.

And having that thought in your mind is exactly what Aemond needed to get the upper hand on you as he tackled you into the sand, pinning you down.

“Se nyke thought īlē supposed naejot sagon iā kostōba riña,” Aemond growled as he held his dagger to your neck. And I thought you were supposed to be a strong girl.

You struggled against him but Aemond kept you down, “Se nyke thought īlē supposed naejot sagon iā honourable vala,” you spat. And I thought you were supposed to be an honourable man.

“You think you know me so well, don’t you?” Again, Aemond’s switch to the common tongue reminded you of his true hatred once again.

“I did. But now you’re simply a shell of the man I once knew. The man I once loved.”

Aemond’s jaw tensed at your words, “You never loved me.”

“If you really think that to be true then you are not only the least honourable man I’ve ever met but the stupidest one as well.”

He pushed his blade further against your neck at the insult, “Pār skoro syt gōntan ao henujagon nyke skori nyke jorrāelatan ao olvie?” Then why did you leave me when I needed you most? You could tell his demeanor was slipping as the High Valyrian returned.

“Henujagon ao?” Leave you? you scoffed, “Ao forced nyke qrīdrughagon. Se dōrī sesīr ēdas se decency naejot ivestragon geros ilas.” You forced me away. And never even had the decency to say goodbye.

“Ao defended aōha valonqar's paktot naejot gūrogon ñuha laes se pār ao expected iā geros ilas vūjigon?” You defended your little brother's right to take my eye and then you expected a goodbye kiss?

“Nyke gōntan daor such run!” I did no such thing! “I stayed by your bedside nearly every night I could,” now your emotions had bubbled over, “Much to my entire family’s dismay. Because I loved you and I wanted to make sure you were cared for! I tried so hard to be there for you. And you know what you did, Aemond? You locked yourself away. Showing me no gratitude for the love I continued to bore for you even after you declared my brother’s and I illegitimate. So go on, continue to wallow in your self-pity as you’ve done for these past years. But spare me from watching it.” You pressed your own neck further onto the blade, the stinging of its sharpness drawing a bit of blood. You squeezed your eyes shut.

Aemond’s breathing became uneasy at your words, the once steady hand that was so keen on cutting your throat now shook and applied less and less pressure. Before he pulled it away completely.

Your eyes blinked open, “Zūgagon, issi īlon?” Scared, are we?

Aemond said nothing as he looked down at you, your figure still pinned under his. You could almost see the thoughts jogging through his brain.

He brought his hand up, you prepared for him to strike you finally, “Emā daor drīve naejot sagon zūgagon yno yet.” You have no reason to be afraid of me yet.

You looked back as he peeled his eye patch off once again, now revealing that gleaming sapphire to only you this time.

“Gaomagon ao iēdrosa claim naejot jorrāelagon nyke? Gaomagon ao jorrāelagon nyke hae se dyni iksan sir?” his gaze never broke from yours. Do you still claim to love me? Do you love me as the monster I am now?

You slowly brought your hand to the side of his face, he flinched at your touch before melting into it, “Bisa dōrī vēttan ao se dyni.” This never made you the monster. You spoke softly as you ran your thumb along the scar. “Aōha prūmia gōntan.” Your heart did. “Se nyke iēdrosa jorrāelagon ao anyway.” And I still love you anyway.

Aemond’s eye scanned over your face once again, “Jiōragon bē.” Get up.

You didn’t even fully register his instructions before he lifted you to your feet, “Skoros sir? Issi ao jāre naejot feed nyke naejot Vhagar?” What now? Are you going to feed me to Vhagar?

Aemond didn’t respond as he continued to drag you by the arm. Towards where Vhagar lay and you thought to yourself that maybe you had just given him the perfect idea. The great beast growled as you approached her. Readying yourself to meet your fate, you were thrown off as Aemond dragged you over to the ladder that led to Vhagar’s saddle.

“Hepnon,” Climb. he instructed, nodding upwards. You shook your head before Aemond grasped his dagger once again. At this point, you knew you were in no position to argue as you embarked on your hike up the side of Vhagar. Aemond followed. As you both seated yourselves into the saddle, Aemond grabbed your wrist and began tying them together with rope.

“Kȳvanon va throwing nyke ezīmagon se embar se letting nyke qrimbughegon?” Plan on throwing me into the sea and letting me drown?

Aemond fastened the last knot on your bindings, “Daor, ñuha Dārilaros. Īlon're jāre naejot Dārys Tegorīr.” No, my Princess. We're going to King's Landing.

“Dārys Tegorīr? Skoro syt daor sepār ossēnagon nyke sir?” King’s Landing? Why not just kill me now?

“Ñuha lēkia kessa jorrāelagon iā hostage. Se kesan jorrāelagon iā ābrazȳrys.” My brother will need a hostage. And I will need a wife.

“Skoros hen Āeksio Borros' tala?” What of Lord Borros’ daughter?

“Qogralbar bona Barāthēon orvorta. Issa daor ao.” Fuck that Baratheon cunt. She is not you.

“Aōha lentor nor ñuhon kessa mirre mazōregon īlva.” Your family nor mine will ever accept us.

“Nyke ȳdra daor tepagon iā qrugh qilōni rules. Hae bōsa hae īlon dīnagon.” I don’t give a shit who rules. As long as we marry.

“Obūljagon naejot ñuha muña. Lo gaomā, kesan dīnagon ao. Lo daor, ossēnagon nyke sir. Kesan dōrī nāpāsagon ñuha lentor.” Bend the knee to mother. If you do, I will marry you. If not, kill me now. I will never betray my family.

Aemond couldn’t bite back his smirk. His princess had only grown more fearsome over the years, “Naejot Zaldrīzesdōron pār, ñuha Dārilaros.” To Dragonstone then, my Princess.

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darling-answers · 16 days

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I BEG YOU Ana Amari with a injured reader, maybe she sick or dying of a illness idk just make it angst, I saw that talk about wanting more Ana Amari fanfic so idk I feel like letting people suffer and cry.

“ oh Gibraltar were had the time gone?”

This will be pre-fall I would like to say when Overwatch was still in best working order, just right after the omnic crisis

Warning! There may be inaccurate deceive of AML, I have done my best at researching the topic but doesn’t me my accuracy on knowing aml is good because I have never experienced before. Ana may be a little off topic because no matter what, you should always respect the choice of someone body. Death! Is implied and mention. this isn’t a happy ending. Blood! Is mentioned, noise and mouth bleeding Mentions, Oppression and violence. There also mention of symptoms of cancer effects with chemotherapy, chemotherapy is mentioned multiple times. Fainting is mentioned

Thank you for all who reads my stories and showed there support i appreciate it greatly

REQUEST ARE OPEN I WRITE FOR VENTURE TOO SO SEND THEM SOME LOVE.

The warning signs were there but you couldn’t expect it to get this bad? how could anyone know how bad it gotten when it just happened. Being a overwatch agent and putting civilians as your top priority before your own health problems wasn’t uncommon. It comes with you being a soldier and wanting to do what right. Sticking up for the weak even if it comes with your own life. So why must this situation be different.

The First warning sign happen when you were out on a mission to help civilians who may have been lost or trapped under the rubble, it was going according to plan, nothing seem out of the ordinary until the next thing you had known was blood was coming from your nostrils and mouth. Wiping it off on your sleeve painting it with fresh blood made it easy to forget about, it could happen to anyone so why must your situation be different, there still civilians need help, so pick yourself up soldier and help the others, You tell yourself over and over again.

Helping civilians get to safety and back to there family had made you smile, but the comfort of the ship that would be leading you back to your home and the people you call family is just a different feeling. When sitting down in your designated seat, Reinhardt was right infront of you, talking (yelling.) about how well his mission did, talking about the tiny children who he got to flex his arms to. Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes carried on their conversation about the on going crisis in the rest of the world, torbjorn talked about his family showing Reinhardt picture of his newly born daughter Brigitte but always the mother hen Ana had taken notice of the blood.

“ habibati, where did such blood come from? Had there been anyone seriously injured? On the catalog I did not seen any reports of very serious injuries?” She mumbles setting her sniper down, the way the sniper aim was up relaxing in the wall of the aircraft, safety was on and the eye of the pistol was up. She leans over to grab the coat of your overwatch outfit and taken a look of the sleeve.

“ I’m fine Ana, I promise, there is nothing to worry about just some blood no need to fuss.” She gave you a serious look Almost crinkling her brows. “ you tell me if anything is wrong. Alright? I want you to be alright.” She looks serious pointing a finger before she lets go from the topic when she felt satisfied.

The Second warning came when in training with Cassidy, you felt you’re whole body zap out of energy, the room was so dizzy and fussy, your brain felt slow and sluggish, you’re arms and legs felt like a ice about to melt into a puddle. Your body gave up and slammed itself to the ground. Waking up in the infirmary with Angela Ziegler talking about your body and health, noticing the way your body seems to be weaker than before. You lost incredible amount of weight which for a normal person would feel happy about it, the weight your body was dropping was to dangerous to not start trying to figure out what was wrong with you.

“ i thought you would’ve told me if something was wrong. The fact you tried hiding it makes me think it might be time i took over your position and put you’re mission on hold until i feel everything is better.” Ana mumbled kissing your forehead as she gently placed her hand on the top of your head.

Angela returned with a chart, writing your vitals and simple questions she have asked you such as, how long have these symptoms been going on, how severe have these conditions been. She clicked her pin shut as she looked up from her notes. “ if you don’t mind I would like to request and recommend we run a few test on you. I’m thinking running a Blood test on you, we will be analyzing it using a microscopic evaluation of the blood, or by using flow cytometry to try and figure. This will all be done if we get your consent so would you mind if we do this?” Angela tilt her head at the last part as she hears the exact words she needs to hear to start preparing for the blood samples.

After gathering the blood sample, she sends you and Ana on your way as she tells you the test results will need 2-3 weeks to be able to fully confirm the diagnosis. Ana made sure throughout the week to make sure that you would rest and not strain your already fragile condition. Every night Ana would lay in bed making sure her arms were around your body and start whispering stuff in Arabic. More symptoms started popping up which caused Ana to get worried even worse than before. Bruising would form out of nowhere not even you could remember how you got those bruises, night sweats became one of the worse causing the lack of sleep, hot flashes and the urge to not eat anything were evidence that something definitely wasn’t right.

“ Oh, how I know it hurts habibati, let’s try and get some rest.” She would mumbles as she made sure the bed only have loose sheets. The way you could barely hold down anything or even get out of bed made her concerns grow even worse. Sometimes you would wake up with her right besides you and other times you were alone in bed. Days and nights started to blur in your memory as you laid in bed, not being able to fully move or walk without assistance.

“ we have gotten the test results back and it might be best. If you sit down ana this is difficult for both of you.” Angela pulled up a chair and sat down in a chair crossing her legs as she looks over at Ana then comes back to you. “ after throughly examining the changes in you’re body we have confirm the diagnosis of you have a form of leukemia that is very hard to treat. It is called Acute myelogenous leukemia. It a common aggressive form of leukemia that affects your bone marrow and blood.”

The face of exhaustion from you and the horror of Ana Face was like no other, how long had it been since you see Ana so hopeless..? This isn’t what you wanted to see.

“ There is good news and bad news, we may be able to start treatment to help fight off the leukemia but with the illness being around the bone marrow most medicines may not be able to reach the place the leukemia is resting, it may be long and hard but you have some chance of survival if you would like to start that I can get it prepared.”

“ What are the chances of me surviving..? I don’t want to live my life in fear that this illness will come back, I don’t want the exhaustion and agonizing treatments, I don’t want to be stuck in a hospital wasting away the only time I get pure entertainment is if someone come visit me. Please Ana, i’m scared and I don’t want to leave you alone but I don’t want to deal with this heartache.” She clutched her wife hand as she leans over weakly giving a kiss to her wife forehead as she comes to rest her sweaty face on that of her wife.

“ I have seen a lot of people survive AML and I also scene some who not, a man in December survive the AML with a few rounds of chemo and some rehabilitation and now he living his life with a wife and few kids. I’ve also scene some people not wish to fight this agonizing battle. So why I might not suggest not taking treatments I will accept whatever you would like us to do.”

Angela Zeigler nodded her head towards you before looking at Ana, Ana somberly looked at the hands which were neatly folded in her. The struggle to make the choice or even express agreement or disagreement weigh ever on her shoulders. “ if you would not like to start chemo and pass away in your home with me and our family by your side I will respect your wishes. I’m so sorry you were even given these choices.” Ana closed her eyes and cried in her hands chocking out her answers as she leans to rest her head on your shoulder.

“ don’t cry Ana, this battle has been long and hard, I was given a purpose on earth and that was to protect the people around me, I made my choice and now I may be rest in the peace of the afterlife knowing I have saved lives. You have to be strong for Pharah and Overwatch.”

The weakly smiles that adores both you and Ana face made it way to accept the idea more easily. The decision to not go and do chemo was not selfish in the eyes of Ana, she knew of the effects of chemo, Nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, Hair loss, Skin dryness and rashes the effects almost seem limitless.

“ so if I’m to confirm You ( state your name.) are refusing to take chemotherapy, which may have help you live a few years longer. You understand the negative side effects that may come with this. You may also always come back to wanting to do chemotherapy but the more you wait the more will not be likely to have the cancer be eradicated.”

Ana looked over and nodded at you, “ I will accept whatever you say or think. Please speak what you need to.” Ana looked into your eyes. “ I accept to refusing treatment for chemotherapy and know the harms and risk that may come and the outcome.” The weakly sound of coughing finishing off the statement.

“ alright, I will notify strike commander to take you off of all mission briefs and when you are ready please notify whoever you would like about what the future is going forward.” Mercy nodded politely leaving you and Ana alone in the room. Ana looked over at you, brushing your cheekbone as the weak sound of raspy breath came in and out. “ Thank you for letting me have a choice, I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’t sure the outcome would be the same.”

Ana nodded to your words helping you settle in bed. She weakly clutches the clothing near her heart as she looks at you. She tried to take a deep breath as to not let the tears follow but it getting harder looking at your weak state. She started walking towards the door to give you room only to be stopped by the croak of a voice. “ Ana…” Ana turned around and looked at you walking over and kneeling down near your bed side.

“ I love you and Pharah so much.” You mumbles as Ana whisper some words of praise before getting up and leaving the room. Days become even more of a blur as your visited by most of Overwatch agents besides a few. Even Moira O’Deorain made her presence known as she commands great respect and recognition for how you saved lives and great combat skills.

The day came, one year and a day after you first got the symptoms of something wrong that you passed peacefully by your besides, laying beside you was Ana who was on your left. Pharah who birthday just came a few weeks ago making her 10 and one of your best friends who also supported you think through thin, Reinhardt. A day that would’ve been sad wasn’t sad, they knew you would of beat there ass if you found out they weren’t lighting up the party with some shots as you’re lowered into your casket. Your funeral which played one of your favorite songs, “Dreaming of you” by Selena Quintanilla was a mother and daughter dance for ana and pharah.

You were given a gravesite with the soldiers who had fallen in the war adored with flowers and so much love and care from military units all across the world. Some left Quarters, some left penny, dimes and nickels. You were known around the world and a statue as a memorial in your home town was placed to honor the dedication you had to fighting for what right and standing up for communities who may have been oppressed.

As time gone on and the state of Overwatch went into shambles Winston recalled woke up a different side in Overwatch agents, instead of doing stuff how Jack Morrison would do, the Overwatch hero’s knew who to look up to in the end.

Pharah looking up into the sky hoping that maybe she would see you there looking down and protecting her.

#overwatch #overwatch x reader #darlingfics #overwatch imagine #Ana x reader #Ana Amari #Ana Amari x reader #Pharah #mercy #sick! reader

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wack-ashimself · 1 year

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Black Panther 2, or as I call it...

<SPOILERS. I am literally summarizing the movie in one sentence.>

"Pissed off sister/daughter/princess/queen makes herself super human to seek vengeance with a young tony stark and iron man army knock off by taking on evil aqua hermes's kingdom (whom look like the blue people, and part of the plot to avatar 2), who just so happen to be threatening the world."

With the tagline: 'And nothing actually cool happens till the last 1/2 hour.'

It was drawn out and boring. And for how long it is, you still didn't care that much for the lead. She wasn't interesting, or charming, or funny, or anything. She was...there. Reacting for the most part.

I came in with no expectations (ok. Maybe for it to be as good as the first at least). And tho it is not the worst MCU movie, dear god, it sure as fuck ain't even close to the best. Maybe the most average. Average-ist. lol

FYI: when a huge chunk of your movie takes place at night, in dark, in cover, in a cave, underwater, etc, WITH mostly black people, ILLUMINATE the scenes so we can see what the fuck is going on! I'm a partially blind guy, not the best at seeing, and you sure as fuck ain't helping. I could at least read the subtitles so I had that much going for me...

To me, the only thing they did RIGHT right in the movie was having the two leaders fight to the death (or yield) and not sacrificing a bunch of their army/citizens (even tho both did suffer many causalities before they did so). THAT is how war should be done: the psychos who want to send everyone out to kill have to fight, front lines, first. Wars USED to be that way. There was some honor. There's no honor murdering a stranger who never did you wrong across the world from an rc airplane...

Black Panther 2: 6/10. Barely worth the watch. Super forgettable. I will forget this by the end of the week. Without even trying.

ps-best part? How the princess turned into a woman...dictator. I mean, the tony stark girl who started this whole thing said sorry (tho it wasn't her fault: the CIA took her idea), THEN the newly formed queen (who got the seat by taking magical steroids) says the girl can't keep her iron man suit she fucking invented?! Power trip much you fuck? God, power corrupts ALL. I hate these movies about future like utopias but there's still kings and queens. Fuck outta here. They never EARN the power; they fucking are born into it. Or again, take performance enhancing magical powers paid for by the citizens.

Side note: Nothing happened from this movie. The world still thinks Wakanda is the bad guy, being the real bad guys were hidden by Wakanda, so the world is hostile toward them (Wakanda Forever? TERRIBLE title: almost no one puts their country first). THEN they do a Paul Walker F & F goodbye send off, complete with 'his son will carry on his legacy'. Ugh. They tried so many things, but 1/2 assed all of them. It was like 3 movie ideas crushed into 1 1/2 movies (based on the fucking length of it).

#black panther #black panther 2 #movies #mcu #spoiler #spoilers #f&f #fast and furious #i am quick and irritated #paul walker #t'challa

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heliads · 3 years

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Time Can Heal (But This Won’t) Chapter Three: Bloodstains

You’ve been a lone demigoddess, daughter of Hecate, ever since your home of Hellas sank beneath the waves centuries ago. You loved the Darkling until he crossed you and you fled the Little Palace. Now you’re disguised as a mere cartographer. Can you face him again, knowing what he’s done?

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There was no way around it, no way to avoid it. Like it or not, you would be returning to the only place you’ve ever truly called home since you left behind the sinking shores of Hellas, past a people who would never rise again. You had seen Os Alta built, walked the newly constructed halls of the Grand and Little Palaces with the Darkling before you knew enough to run from him. This is where you’ll be going- not to a new future, but a chance to drown in all the memories you’ve tried so hard to forget.

However, you’ll have to survive the journey to Os Alta first. You’re not here as an esteemed guest or prisoner, you’re here as a double, a lure. Someone who can be killed so that Alina Starkov walks out alive. You know this as well as your ice-eyed Darkling who rides next to you, who thinks nothing of you but that you share a name with a woman he thought he could manipulate. That is all.

So you force your gaze away from the Darkling and back towards your hands, which grip the reins of your offered steed. You mentally catalogue the scant few weapons you had on you before you were dragged along after Alina- two knives, a medium length dagger, and the small pistol all First Army soldiers were forced to have on them. You’ve never particularly cared for guns, though- they’re dirty, loud things, nothing compared to the damage you could wreak with a syllable from your tongue. Then again, if it came down to it, you’d rather have a pistol in your palm then risk using your magic in front of the Darkling. In the end, you’re here to stay hidden, not reveal yourself in the most dramatic way possible.

That being said, you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. You’ve learned long ago to listen to the voices that whisper past your ear, speaking of dangers lurking in the woods and ill-intentioned beings who wait for women who walk alone. Some are remnants of past protection spells, and others are shades from the Underworld who’d managed to conjure up some corporeal strength and warn you of an attack. You are the last living Hellenid to walk the earth, and so they feel duty-bound to protect you. Through you, your people live on, and so even the dead watch your back.

So when the voices come, you listen. Your eyes flicker shut for just a second as you listen, past the thump of your heart and the pattern of horse hooves on the dusty ground. The carriage rolls noisily some distance in front of you, and then you hear it stop. Around the bend, you hear the disgruntled mutterings of the guards even though they’re too far for a human ear to pick up. A tree has fallen down, blocking the path. You know it’s a trap even before the shots ring out.

You hear the choked screams of men falling with arrows through their throats and eyes and begin to panic. They’ve come for Alina Starkov, the Sun Summoner who could damn the Fjerdans to a lifetime under Ravka’s watchful eye. They’ve come to kill her. You sense the Darkling rearing his horse beside you, and his stallion picks up into a canter. You don’t have to say a word, just listen to his commands to his men. There are more men attempting to circle behind you and pick you off, you can distract them and the remaining attackers trying to get into the carriage.

A Heartrender turns to you, gesturing for his fellow Grisha to follow you. “Come, Alina! We have to get you to safety!” This command is far too loud for any self-respecting Second Army soldier to ever utter, but to the Fjerdans, it is nothing out of the ordinary. Ravka already swears by its legions of witches, why shouldn’t the ice-haired drüskelle believe themselves above the pathetically obvious Grisha? They follow you without a second thought.

You wait a minute, listening to the sound of boots crashing through the forest floor after you, then jump down from your horse in one swift motion. Your knives appear in your hands and you sprint towards your attackers, knocking them down again and again. You slam the hilt of one knife into a Fjerdan’s nose, and you can hear the bone shatter as if it was your own. Light flashes off of the Grisha steel blades as you slash and stab, drawing blood without taking a break.

A small part of your mind gleefully notices the way the Fjerdans are running towards you now, drawn towards the sunlight reflected by your knives. They think you the Sun Summoner now, all because of metal polished to a shine. And why shouldn’t they? You have enough power to tear this continent in half, to let the sun pierce the planet’s very core. Why shouldn’t you be feared? Why shouldn’t you be the Sun Summoner yourself?

The man in front of you cries out, and you come back to your senses. Your eyes follow your knife, twisting in his windpipe, and you withdraw it hastily. You wipe the scarlet blood on the grass before turning to fight another Fjerdan attacker, but none come forward. You realize that they’re all dead, either by your hand or by the Heartrenders. Although, you notice with a sickening twist, most are killed by you. You’re supposed to be a shy First Army soldier, and you’re not exactly playing your part quite right.

Across a clearing, you see the Darkling helping Alina to her feet. She looks stunned, most likely due to the body of a Fjerdan lying at her toes. It’s been sliced perfectly in half- so he’s used the Cut. No wonder she looks as if the world has just been exposed for being woven from nightmares. She glances over at you and blanches even further. Shame twists in your gut as you realize your hands are covered in blood, none of it yours. You were borne of a race of warriors, fighting has been in your history for as long as Hellas has stood. To Alina Starkov, however, this is a massacre like she’s never seen before. You carefully sheath your knives again once you’re sure there’s no blood left on them.

You stare at the bodies, forcing your eyes to remember every last detail. May your gods or their Saints watch over them, wherever they may go. You don’t have enough coins to place under their tongues as per the Hellan tradition, although even if you did you couldn’t risk drawing the Darkling’s attention with such a specific ritual. Instead, you burn their faces into your mind. Memories and legacies were how your people retained their power, and being forgotten was a large part of how they crumbled away. At last you can remember these men.

A voice sounds from in front of you, and you look up hastily. “Do not pity them. They attacked the Sun Summoner, your friend.” The Darkling stands before you, something strange in his eyes. You’ve seen this look before, a few centuries ago. You had been careful to hide the true extent of your magic from him, perhaps knowing even then that he would want nothing more from you then the power you could give him.

In that long ago instant, you had let go, allowing your spells to run wild as stallions through the air. You were attacked, yes, but you had used it as an excuse for true bloodshed. It had been so long since you had truly tested your limits, always making sure to hide what you truly were, even from the other Grisha. You wanted to see what you could do, just this once. Even then, you were just scratching the surface, but the wash of inky emerald over the scene threatened to drown out the world. Bodies dropped, trees were stripped of bark, entire buildings crumbled despite the strongest of foundations.

The few other Grisha present looked at you with true horror, but not the Darkling. No, he looked at you as he does now, with a sort of hunger that could consume entire countries and never be filled. He saw no girl or lover, he saw a weapon. He saw you standing before him, pulling a blade from your chest and offering him the hilt. He’d take it, not caring (or even relishing) your blood still dripping from the blade. The things he could do with you were unimaginable even in your worst nightmares, and it would never be enough. The worst part is that you thought you might go along with it, that you’d be willing to watch the end of the world with him.

This is how the Darkling looks at you now, a weapon ready for the taking. You remember hastily that he’s likely expecting something of you, so you duck your chin and do your best to summon up the modesty expected by the likes of Y/N Stassov, mapmaker and nothing more. “It’s just, well, a lot of death.” The Darkling inclines his head. “Maybe. Where did you learn to fight like that?” You don’t like this line of questioning, where it could lead. “The First Army. Sir.”

The Darkling’s lips quirk at the last minute honorific. “I’ve seen no First Army mapmaker who could take out a dozen Fjerdans with a pair of knives. Maybe I should send some of my soldiers to learn from your generals.” You panic, sure he’s testing you, then realize that he’s joking. Ridiculous. You force a smile. “I think they’re probably fine with their heartrending and all that.” The two of you have begun walking back to the horses now. The Darkling mounts his steed, then looks back at you. “Maybe so.” When he takes off, you’re not sure which scares you most- him figuring out who you are, or the idea that he would not look for you at all.

The Darkling calls for the party to take a respite that night, waiting until the moon shines low in the sky for everyone to tie up their horses and rest in a long-abandoned barn. Alina runs over to you as soon as she gets off of her mount, flinging her arms around you in gratitude. You can tell from the hammering of her heart whenever she looks at the Darkling that she hasn’t forgotten his use of the Cut, and probably won’t for a while.

“Saints, Y/N, I’m so glad you’re here. I couldn’t do this alone.” You can sense the eyes of the Darkling and the other Grisha on your back, and you know what’s expected of you. To them, you are no more than an otkazat’sya mapmaker, someone utterly unworthy of their Sun Summoner’s company. They’ll leave you to make your way back to Kribirsk when Alina is safe at the Little Palace, and they no doubt expect you to make her path easier.

So, you smile, smoothing back an errant piece of her hair into place. “That’s a lie, and we both know that. If you can punch an irritating officer or survive the Fold, you can ride a horse to Os Alta. Promise.” Alina rolls her eyes. “It’s not like that.” You raise an eyebrow. “It totally is. Believe me. Now come on, chasing after you all day is exhausting. I intend to go to sleep right now.” Alina grins. “That sounds good to me.”

Despite your weary eyes, you can’t seem to fall asleep at all. Alina sleeps next to you, the few Grisha lookouts stand unmoving at their posts. Eventually, you get sick of tossing and turning and staring up through the rotting beams through the barn roof. You stand, making your way quietly out of the barn. If the sentries see you, they do not stop you. Evidently, they trust you enough to let you walk around, or they view you as useless enough to not stop you from trying to run. Either works for you.

You don’t go far, just outside of the doors lying at odd angles on their hinges. You take a seat on a rusting metal bench, leaning back against the faded paint of the barn walls. You stare up at the sky, eyes tracing the constellations. Somewhere up in the night, there were once heroes and monsters, prideful queens and stubborn kings whose stories were famous enough to warrant them a place amongst the stars. You’ve been looking for them for a while, though, and know that the skies are empty of all souls who were once cast up there. It’s just another reminder that you are well and truly alone. The last remainder of a long dead culture.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” You startle, turning to see the Darkling walking out of the barn beside you. You manage to cover up your surprise with an apology. “Sorry, I didn’t think I’d woken anybody.” The Darkling shrugs. “You didn’t. I was already awake.” This feels somewhat surreal- here you sit, a false face and a fake history as a farmer turned soldier. Here stands the Darkling, looking just the same as always. It makes no sense, though- why would he keep seeking you out? Why would the general of the Second Army keep looking for an otkazat’sya soldier? He must know you, somehow. There’s no other explanation for it.

The Darkling clears his throat. “Thank you for speaking to Alina. I appreciate your words.” You dismiss the gratitude with a lift of your shoulder. “She’s my friend. I couldn’t exactly make her feel worse, could I?” The Darkling turns to look at you now, familiar quartz eyes seeming to tear you in two. “You could. You could have refused to play along with the role of double, you could have refused to fight by her side, you could have done your best to turn her away from us. You did none of that.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I could have resisted a team of the most skilled Grisha in all of Ravka? I intend to keep my life.” Something almost like a smile appears on the Darkling’s lips. You’ve seen this look before, in sunset afternoons and deepest nights. It’s so familiar that it seems to cut at you like a knife. You almost want to call out to him now- know me, please. Remember me. If you look close enough, you will see the woman you pretended to love. We could pretend again, if we wanted to.

You silent the murmurings, and he speaks again. “All the same, it was appreciated.” You turn back towards the sky, partly to take in the sight of the night sky again and partially to hide the smile giddily appearing on your own face. How is that after all this time, all these hurts, he still has this effect on you? “Well, I want her to have some good memories after this. I’ll be shipped back to Kribirsk, I don’t really want to leave on bad terms.”

The Darkling remains silent for so long that you’re worried you’ve said something wrong, opened up too much. A simple mapmaker would never confide in a centuries-old Shadow Summoner, he must suspect something. Surely, hopefully, he does. But instead, he turns to you, a softness present in his eyes that wasn’t there before. It rounds the edges of his quartz gaze, making it easier to fall hard and fast. “You aren’t going to leave for Kribirsk. You’re staying in Os Alta.”

You stare at him, night sky forgotten. “What? But I’m no Sun Summoner.” The Darkling laughs quietly in the night. “No, but few of us are. I have a personal guard, the oprichniki. I would like you to begin training with them once we arrive.” The sentence is phrased so casually that it almost floats by you completely undetected. The monumental weight of the words, however, is enough to shake you whole. The oprichniki are not Grisha, so you would fit in, but they are the Darkling’s special guards. Only the toughest and bravest of fighters are selected, certainly not a mapmaker who’s best skill is pretending to be a Sun Summoner.

You tell him as much, so stunned by this that you forget to hold your tongue. When you remember who you are and who you’re doing your best to pretend you’re not, you wish you had remained silent. For some reason, however, the Darkling doesn’t seem taken aback by this momentary lapse. Instead, it just makes his lips twitch even more. He is most certainly hiding a smile. “I saw you fight, Miss Stassov. If you can do that without any of our training at all, I’d say you’re a good candidate.”

You lean back against the barn wall. “Oprichnik. Me.” You whistle quietly, letting the sound echo in the night air like the call of a dove. The Darkling inclines his head. “You are free to turn the offer down at any point-” his smile grows at your raised eyebrow- “Although it is not an offer I take lightly. You have potential. Besides, keeping you in Os Alta will be a support for Miss Starkov.”

You furrow your brow. “I thought you would want to separate her from her old life, not keep having ties to it.” It’s what the Darkling would do when you knew him. He would have cut out another mapmaker without a second thought. The Darkling considers this. “Perhaps. But if she feels too alone, she may draw in on herself and feel unwilling to use her power at all. You have your merits, Miss Stassov. Perhaps more than you see yourself.”

You barely hear him when he goes back inside the barn. He has always had this ability to disguise his footsteps, letting the shadows cloak him in sound as well as in sight. For once, it doesn’t trouble you. Instead, you’re troubled by the future ahead of you. If you were an oprichnik, a guard loyal only to him, there would be even more chance of the Darkling finding out that you were Hecari, the woman he’d loved and who had run from him, feigning death rather than stay by his side and fear his knife.

Being near him, though, it makes you think back to every moment you’d shared. Could it be possible that you had misheard? Would the man you know, the man drenched by moonlight who makes offers of joining the ranks of the oprichniki to mapmakers he’s barely met, truly want you dead? The answer is yes, you know that. But your heart whispers differently, telling you that you could be wrong on this. You’ve always trusted your whispers, the ghosts of the past. The only problem is that these aren’t Hellenid spirits now, they’re your own. Longings for what might have been, what you left behind.

In the end, you retreat back inside the barn. When you sleep, you dream of a quartz-eyed boy, dark-haired and smiling before he thought to use you.

series tag list: fave @underc0vercryptid, @hotleaf-juice, @aleksanderwh0r3, @kaqua, @nemesis729, @imma-too-many-fandoms

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foodieforthoughts · 3 years

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Journey through time - Part 5

Summary: Your relationship with Syverson over the years.

Warnings: fluff and only fluff.

A/N1: Last part to this mini photo series. Thanks to @agniavateira who has provided me with so much inspiration. Also thank you to everyone who read and liked and commented. You guys make me so happy. (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)

A/N2: I'll be taking a small hiatus from posting fics for now. But I'll be back soon. ❤️

As much as Sy adored his daughter, secretly he had always wanted a son. Two years after Adeline was born, when he was back from his oversees tour for three weeks, Sy took it upon himself to get you round and plump with his kids again. He was overjoyed when you told him over a call that you were pregnant. Although it saddened you both that this time, Sy wasn't going to be around when you gave birth to your child. When you told him he was going to be a father to twin boys, Sy had hollered with glee, making a couple of his men come knocking at his door to see if he way okay. That was a very awkward call, where you were waving at his men while they congratulated you. You sent him a copy of your sonogram, along with a picture of you with Adeline in a care package. "Mini me's," He would say while looking at the picture, "And my princess with my queen." Your heart would flutter like the very first time he had kissed you; upsetting you at the distance and yet also filling you with love. Sy asked his parents to come live with you, help you with Adeline, as you got big and started experiencing difficulty in moving around. When you went into labour, his mother tried to get him on call, just like he had requested. But they were unable to connect to his phone, wondering if he was safe and sound or just away doing things that were expected of him to do as a captain. Your emotions were unbounded when you gave birth to your sons, worrying about Sy and going through the long process without him. The next day, Sy saw his sons for the first time over the video call, happy tears springing in his eyes as you cradled the two boys in your arms. "They have your eyes, Sy. Have you thought of names yet?" You had asked, having decided long time ago that since you had named your daughter, Sy would name his sons. "James and Noah." He had sniffed out, smiling at you lovingly.

Captain Syverson retired as Major Syverson after serving 20 years of active duty. Sy joined as a coach for Little League Baseball team, becoming a favorite amongst his players and their moms. Every morning you would kiss Sy goodbye as he walked out the front door, holding little Adeline's tiny hand in his to drive her to her school on his way to work. Your days were filled with less worrying about Sy's safety and more on providing a loving family for your kids. It helped that at the end of the day, your dining table was occupied with your children and your loving husband, sharing their day's events. Weekends were spent in parks with the whole Syverson clan out for picnics, you watching your husband running around with James and Noah, Adeline who was a spitting image of her father, perched on his strong shoulders. Somedays you couldn't believe your life turned out the way it did, mostly when you would walk inside the living room to find Sy sprawled on the sofa with Adeline curled on his side, James and Noah snoozing on his chest. You would wake him up, carefully peeling your daughter away from her father and take her to bed, while Sy got both boys in his arms with little to no effort and took them to their own room. At the end of the day, when parenthood and responsibilities left you both weary, you and Sy found solace in each other's arms while drifting off to a peaceful slumber.

It was the most devastating day in Sy's life when his teenage daughter told him she wanted to pursue modelling. Adeline was stubborn and opinionated, graced with Sy's beautiful features. He had stared at his daughter with wide eyes, cup of coffee stopping midway to his mouth. "You want me to be okay with grown men gawking at you?" He had gruffly replied, anger evident with his eyebrows knitting together and his lips forming a frown. You had learned over the years to not interfere with Sy's ways of parenting. James and Noah had awkwardly slid off their chairs, both of them avoiding what was to come next. The discussion had ended with father and daughter, arguing with each other, eventually Sy sending a crying Adeline away to her room. Neither of them had spoken to each other the rest of the day, Adeline refusing to eat dinner and Sy drinking too many glasses of whiskey. "I cannot believe she thinks modelling is a career choice." He had scowled later in the night, you both staring at the ceiling while lying in bed. "Didn't you once tell me you had hated your father for sending you off to military school? Do you want your daughter to hate you?" Sy had sighed, turning on his side to face you. "That's different. Adeline's our little girl, it's my duty to protect her." Understanding completely what Sy was feeling as a parent, you had too turned on your side and placed your hand on his scruffy cheek. "You taught her to be strong, independent. She will always be our little girl. Don't you trust her to take decisions for her life? And even if she fails to do what she desires, don't you want to be there for her when she would need her dad?"

The next day you had watched from your kitchen window as Sy and Adeline talked while sitting on the swings in the backyard, ending with long hugs and lots of tears.

While Adeline roamed around the country for fashion shows, Sy groomed his sons to join the army someday. It was not an acceptable behavior, but both of you had your favorites when it came to the twins. Noah, the stronger of the two was decidedly his father's favorite, adding to his delight when by the end of high school, he wanted to go to a military academy. James, the apple of your eye, on the other hand, wanted to become a doctor, much to Sy's dismay. But lessons were learned from the time with Adeline and for that reason only, Sy did not oppose. Noah was sent off to Virginia to a military academy, going on to join the air force as it was affiliated with his school; while James buried himself in studies, moving to Connecticut to attend medical school. Weekends that were spent with picnics in the park, now consisted of video conference calls with your three kids spread out over the country. "It's just going to be you and me in the end." Sy would say, shutting the computer off and looking at you pensively. Wounding your arms around the love of your life, you would rest your head on his shoulder and agree, "Till death do us part."

On your 30th wedding anniversary, Sy gave you an unexpected surprise. He had been missing from the house since morning, only to send a vague text with "Pack your bags and come out in ten minutes." When you walked outside on the front porch, you were left stunned to find Sy dressed in riding gear on a super bike. "I think we need to relive our days from the time we were dating. Come on, I've planned a road trip for us." And with that, Sy had driven all the way to San Antonio for the weekend. With a hotel room on the river, Sy pampered you with all his love and the best Tex-Mex food he could find for you. You spent the day shopping and exploring, while in the night he made love to you with unbridled passion. "My better half," he had called you, kissing your hands while cradling you to his chest. When you both came back home from your trip, you had another surprise waiting for you: Your three children all under the same roof again, holding up a sign board with "Happy anniversary, mom and dad."

Noah had successfully climbed the ranks in the airforce to become Lieutenant at an age younger than when Sy was one. But it was when James, inspired by his twin, decided to join the armed forces as a field doctor, you saw Sy's chest puff in pride. "Syverson men always join the military." He had told his friends over dinner one night, soaking up the praises for his children. Adeline joined a major modelling agency that speared her career forward. She roamed around the globe, sending her old folks trinkets from the new city she was in, and one day added a picture of her and her boyfriend in the mail. Sy turned into a protective father quickly, inviting her and her man to have dinner. "I like him." Your old man had chuckled, when he had scared Adeline's boyfriend, making him blabber incoherently with nervousness. You could only watch in a haze as one day Adeline's boyfriend showed up to your house unannounced, to ask Sy for his daughter's hand in marriage. "Listen boy, Adeline is precious and if you hurt her, you know there wouldn't be anything worse than us. You don't want to be on the bad side of the Syverson men, is that clear?" You had heard Sy warn, a shiver running down your spine listening to his commanding tone, even if the threat wasn't meant for you. A few weeks later, when Adeline was in Paris, she had called home only minutes after the proposal, screaming on the phone that she said "yes." The rest of the night, Sy had you looking at Adeline's baby pictures from old photo albums. "This little bundle would be getting married soon. Can you believe that?" He had laughed, wiping the tear at the corner of his eye and throwing his arm around your shoulders when you couldn't hold onto your own tears.

The day after Adeline, Sy's little girl, was married, he threw a brunch for the newly weds and their families. James and Noah, back from their deployment in time for their sister's wedding, had introduced their own girlfriends to both of you before the ceremony. You knew Sy would never admit it, macho behavior of his never fading, but you could see his eyes glisten watching his family grow. He had tried to keep a straight face throughout the ceremony too, but he had let go of his tears when Adeline had laid her head on his shoulder during their father-daughter dance. Halfway through brunch, Sy pulled you away from the crowd and took you towards the orchard outside the country club. He held your hand while taking you to stand under the shade of a massive tree. "It's like I'm living in a dream." You admitted, looking out at the sprawling orchard, thinking about how you were a mother-in-law to someone. Sy pulled you close to him by your waist, encircling his arms around you. Gray hair on his temples and his face beginning to be marked with wrinkles and yet for you, Sy looked like he had never aged. "I know I don't tell this to you very often, but darlin' running into you, falling in love with you, building a life with you, is the best thing that could have happened to me." He kissed the top of your head, taking your face in his hands before planting a soft kiss on your lips. "I love you and thank you for everything, Sy." You whispered as the birds chirped on the branches above, a whistling breeze blew by carrying the sweet fragrance of fruits in the orchard and you stared at the brilliant blue orbs of the man who had owned your heart and soul since many years ago.

The End.

#captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fluff #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson x you #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

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heiress - 5

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

a/n: more parallels between wanda and reader plus hayward being a bitch to reader. also pierce did not die during the winter soldier events in this universe. at this point this is called wanda and y/n collectively grieving over her how shitty their lives are.

previous chapter

The young woman held a small gun in her left hand, shooting the target at least 10 metres away from her with a mechanical precision, switching it to her right hand and achieving the same type of perfection and precision not even senior agents had. Yet, there she was, one of the newest SWORD recruits. Many people had opposed for her to join SWORD straight after escaping from HYDRA and the Red Room; however, Tyler Hayward had forced for her to become a new recruit. “Having Alexander Pierce’s daughter in our team will be an asset” he said and it somehow convinced all of SWORDs panel to take her in. She had nowhere to go after all, the Red Room will be after her in no time and she had no way to defend herself alone and so SWORD was her only option. An option she thrived under, being much more advanced than any junior recruit yet it was a far cry from what she wanted. She didn’t want to be an agent but that’s what she was, what she had been trained to do.

The trainer slowly blinked walking up to her and giving her a congratulatory pat on the shoulder which everyone could sense was filled of jealousy. She was thrown to the back of the line with someone else who also inspired jealousy in most recruits. Monica Rambeau, daughter of Maria Rambeau, the current SWORD director. They had never spoken too much other than orientation day where they introduced each other by their agent number.

- That was the coolest thing I’ve seen today. - she hide a childish smile as the next recruit started his training. - I’m Monica.

- Y/N. - she smiled and shook her hand. - Is it always like this?

- Most of time yeah. The trainers are dicks about it when you’re better than them.

- Men. - Y/N rolled her eyes, getting an understanding nod from Monica.

- Excuse me? - Tyler Hayward entered the trainee room, always dressed in a polished suit as if that would be of any worth in a fighting situation. - I’m sorry for disturbing but I need Ms. Y/N Pierce to accompany me.

Y/N Pierce. She always hated that name, even more than her code name. The mere thought that she had that last name, the name of one of the leaders of SHIELD was almost like a cruel curse on her. Everyone seemed to think of him as this all around saint yet she knew better; after all, if he had no reservations about submitting his daughter as a project and asset then he would have no reservation in hurting anyone else. SWORD had done their best to keep her existence a secret, not really allowing the connection to pass through but she knew he was looking for her and if he wasn’t the Red Room and HYDRA definitely were.

She shared a confused look with Monica before stepping towards Hayward who led her away from the room and into the hall. He didn’t stop to explain to her why she had been summoned, instead he just kept on walking and she took the lead to follow him, entering a blackened window filled hall. They stopped in front of a window which gave way into an autopsy scene. Y/N was used to seeing death, some would say she was born surrounding it; however, she was not prepared to see what was being shown to her. It was almost as if she were sleeping, her mother. Laid across the metal table with various doctors surrounding her, the HYDRA symbol branded onto her foot. She looked over to the side, hand over her mouth as she felt sick just to see it.

- Our intelligence believes HYDRA is trying to send a message and we don’t believe they won’t stop anytime soon.

- Was it fast? Did she suffer?

- Gunshot to the head. Quite merciful, really.

- Why are you showing me this?

- Well, HYDRA experimented on you but there is the possibility your “enhancements” might be genetic.

- What is that supposed to mean? Why did you really brought me here, Hayward?

- We need the next of kin’s permission to perform an autopsy and it seems that would be you, following your mother’s will.

- No. - she stepped back. - You’re not gonna tear my mother apart for a stupid hypothesis. No. You don’t have my permission

- We’re being kind enough to hide you from your father for no specific reason. You either accept it or we’ll be forced to hand you to SHIELD.

The night air was crisp and sharp as he sat on the swing next to hers. She hadn’t changed much other than her hair which was much longer but her face was still unblemished by the tragic unkindness of the world. After all it had been about 5 years since he last saw her and he hated the fact he had forgotten her. Somewhere, deep within himself he knew her mark was still there; he could still hear her voice in his dreams but he always chucked it to his mind crumbling under the pressure it had been under for so many years. Nevertheless, he had heard her voice plenty times, specially in Bucharest. It had haunted him from nights and nights on end; “Promise?” “Yes”, turns out it wasn’t someone he had killed but someone he had forgotten. Her of all people. It had come back all to him after that woman gave him the file. Her name alone, her lips telling him her name. He remember telling himself he would not forget him as they prepared him to go back in the blender and he did. He forgot about her but looking at her everything came back to him; the good and the bad. But the most of it was he remembered loving her, he still did, a feeling that had been dormant for a long while and suddenly awoke in him. Of course Bucky did not expect her to love him back, he didn’t blame her either. She was a good kid, too good even.

- Uhm ... are you enjoying it here? - she motioned her hands abstractly. - In the hex, I mean.

- It’s better than in hideouts with Sam and Sharon. - he chuckled dryly, looking up at the transparent yet red tinted dome. - I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. Sam is great, despite everything and Sharon ... Sharon has helped me so much, I owe her that.

- Oh ... - her heart dropped to her stomach as an ugly feeling took over her. Sure, Wanda would say it’s jealousy but she refused to admit it.

- What about you? I never really asked what you did after ... you know, IT.

- You can say the name. - she smiled at him yet it was voidless of any emotion, as if she were used to people tip toeing around the subject which they always did. - I became a junior recruit for SWORD until the blip then ... I was gone for a while but it didn’t hurt. It was almost like I was finally at peace and then I woke up and Hayward was director. He sent me and Monica to investigate the hex Wanda created, mostly to keep his own project a bay. Then we all ran off, got classified as fugitives. The rest is really not important.

- I don’t really think I need to tell you what I’ve been up to.

- You don’t ... most of it it’s my fault, anyway. - she got up from the swing once she noticed a purple light a few miles away from the limits of the hex. The back of her eyes started growing instinctively white. Bucky got up as he recognised her fighting stance, a hand safely placed upon her shoulder. - Go grab Wanda.

- Y/N ...

- Go grab her, now. - she stood there watching the purple light almost call out for her. Bucky chose to do what she said, the white mist involving around her fingers as she stepped towards the hex, fingers barely touching the wall.

Bucky rushed inside the building, hoping to reach Wanda before Y/N could do anything irrational. However, before he could find the newly named Scarlet Witch, she found him with one of her twins behind her waist. Her eyes were glowing red, almost similar to those Y/N had except those eyes looked desperate, worried even.

- Where is she? - she asked him with an ice like directness. - Where is she, Barnes?

- Outside. She told me to come get you.

Wanda rushed past him with a speed that he had never seen before and he only followed after her. The two stepped outside the building, towards the swing tree where Bucky had left Y/N, except, she wasn’t there anymore. No, he couldn’t lose her. Not again. Vision came after the two followed by Yelena and Monica who had been awakened by the twins; however, Wanda did not need their help. She approached the hex, just missing the purple glow as it entered the woods. Bucky tried to step up but Vision pushed him back.

- Y/N? - Wanda broke through the hex, shutting Bucky out as well as Vision. It was night time, dark and cold surrounded by the woods of the place they had chosen to hide from the world. Breaking dawn was so far away and even the tallest individual would’ve melted into the dark night. - Y/N!

- Are we not going to help them? - Bucky questioned back inside the hex, probably the most awake apart from the synthezoid and the former Red Room graduate.

- It’s a witch thing. - Yelena smirked before springing into action. - We should activate the hex’s protective system in case something happens.

- What about them? - Bucky once again interrupted, not receiving particularly kind looks from Yelena.

- They’ll be fine, Mr. Barnes.

Y/N on the other hand walked further into the confused and dark woods, holding her small trusted silver revolver which reflected the moon light onto its surface; yet most of the light came from behind her coloured eyes. She did not know exactly why they did that, it was almost as if they light up whenever she felt threatened. Whatever it was, it was there inside of her. She, of course, knew it was Agatha lingering around; however, she never got dangerously close to the hex. It was an unspoken truth between the witch and Wanda Maximoff yet there she was.

- God, dear, I thought I’d have to break into the hex to get to you. - Agatha showed up from the darkness, dressed in her typical black and purple palette as if she were royalty. - So, how are you deary? Still playing Queen Elsa? Is that fun for you?

- You’re trespassing.

- Come on, is that how you thank me for giving you Bucky Barnes on a platter? What else do you need to thank me? A love spell?

- Go away, Agatha. What do you want?

- I am trying to help you, just like I helped Wanda. I mean how old are you, sweetheart? Old enough for HYDRA and SWORD to realise you can do much more than just magic tricks. Making a whole room objects disappear? Now that, that was impressive. If I knew you were gonna do that, I would’ve brought Barnes into your life much much sooner. - she crossed her arms. - I think you and I are very similar. Much more similar than Maximoff to be completely honest. Where were the avengers when your father handed you over to a terrorist organisation? Constantly overlooked, underestimated, seen as nothing but your father’s daughter. I understand, Y/N and I can help you if you let me help you.

- I ... - she faltered her response, slightly lowering down her gun. - You can really help me?

- I know more about magic than everyone else, Y/N. I can train you, I can help you more than SWORD or Wanda Maximoff will ever help. I can even give you what you want the most. Barnes, a regular family, everything but a SHIELD recruit. A regular citizen and all I want is for you to give me my regular family.

- I can’t help you, Agatha.

- I don’t mean to cause any harm, Y/N. I’m not the villain, I just want my husband back and only you can give that to me. That’s all I want. It’s a small price to pay for your happiness. I can even take it away, your powers, I can take them away and then you will have what you want. Pretty sure Barnes still has some swimmers and if he doesn’t surely Wanda can get you some kids, she sure did well with getting herself some.

- Y/N! - Wanda’s voice broke through the two woman’s conversation. Agatha smirked, purple eyes replacing her regular blue ones. - Y/N!

- I think you need to make a choice, dear.

taglist: @lookiamtrying

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dawnflooded · 3 years

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( hanna mangan lawrence, cis female, she/her, 27) ** ♔ announcing BEATRIZ LEON, the PRINCESS OF SPAIN ! in a recent portrait they seem to resemble HANNA MANGAN LAWRENCE. it is a miracle that SHE survived the last five years, considering they are IMPISH, SCHEMING, and INGENIOUS. i hope the plague has not changed them. they are INDIFFERENT TO working together with the other kingdoms

· listening to: lorde - sober ii ( melodrama )

· there’s this butterfly that looks like a snake and i keep thinking a creature that’s the reverse of that basically describes her; instead of a butterfly pretending to be a viper, she’s a viper pretending to be a butterfly;

· i think she has a very...gillian flynn type vibe, so this will be fun;

Beatriz’s arrival in this world came unexpectedly, happened at the worst possible moment, and disappointed everyone.

She was born during an ill-advised sea crossing, while their ship was being rocked by a furious storm that darkened the day sky to pitch black.

The sailors above deck watched in dread as the sea was lashed by dozens of lightning strikes all around them. For hours they feared their ship would break apart, or finally be hit and catch fire. Things calmed only at night, and they managed to maneuver the damaged but still functional vessel into port.

All things considered, the birth actually went as easily as such things could be hoped for, and both baby and mother recovered quickly, at least once they made it back on land. But the incident wasn’t without its repercussions – the queen had been so shaken by the ordeal that she ascribed to it significant meaning.

For years, she’d imagined her second daughter was marked for death, and fearful as she was of losing her, the queen instructed everyone to treat her like a delicate child. For the first years of her life, she was forbidden most of everything, movements restricted to only the safest of locations. She was allowed brief walks around the garden only in the mildest of weathers and never for long. She was kept inside months at a time.

They tried to keep her occupied with lessons and – for her immortal soul that her mother claimed was in such danger – they employed a priest to tend personally to her. Beatriz instantly loathed him and after having to suffer under his yoke for nearly two years, she finally erupted and threw her Bible at him. It hit him in the face at an unfortunate angle, causing him to lose an eye. He parents dealt with the issue summarily, paying him to fabricate another story and sending him out of Spain by the end of the year.

Her insufferable restrictions continued, just with another discipline quietly replacing the time she’d spent with the priest. She never managed to taste a modicum of freedom for as long as her parents had lived, actually.

She assumes this is why she feels so little every time she catches herself thinking about them.

Of course, by the time the king and queen of Spain passed away, everyone else had already realized there was nothing fragile about Beatriz, so convincing her newly crowned brother to loosen her leash a little was incredibly easy and she was finally allowed to into society. She exchanged the mousy, quiet girls her parents had found for her, for the glittering, snobbish, daughters of nobility, who taught her the language of court.

She thrived, almost inappropriately so, taking into account how recent the losses of her parents were, but Beatriz was always destined to tread the line between propriety and spectacle (even though there is none as those two things are in no way comparable; but if she doesn’t have a way, she will find a way between them).

She felt as though the entirety of Europe was at her feet, and so she reached towards it, finding the most outrageous reasons to travel to different places. Ostensibly under the tutelage of the Spanish ambassadors from various courts, to learn new languages and customs, actually there just for the joy of exploring. She’d always been a little too greedy, but she’d tried very hard to at least be smart about it. Beatriz always knew which things to keep private, and she’d carefully constructed a reputation of empty boldness around her public persona that made numerous rumors slip away like water off a duck’s back.

It was just pure chance that she was in Spain when the seriousness of the situation dawned on all of them. All thoughts of moving on soon having fled, Beatriz tried not to let old resentments flare up when finding herself confined again. At the beginning, she kept herself busy, organizing all sorts of events, soirees, informal parties and game nights, striving desperately to keep boredom at bay. That only lasted a few months, after that the events grew rarer and rarer. In order to survive five years cooped up inside, Beatriz reached out to her sister, certain Sofia was the busiest among them, and most likely to have some task or another for her younger sister.

Now that the fires are out and the plague has slowly crawled away, now that she is finally out of Spain again, she’s eager to make up for as much time as she is able.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS: maybe your country was one Beatriz visited (I’m thinking of capping her number of trips at four; I’ll add them here as I plot) and they know each other from before the plague started. She would have travelled in between 19-22, so 8-5 years ago. This is basically open for anything: friendships, rivalries, flirtations etc.

POSSIBLE BETHROTHAL: Beatriz had such a hard time during the plague that she honestly wouldn’t mind never returning to Spain again, so she could be described as at least open to the idea. But she’s also not emotionally invested in the venture, so she’s more likely to want to test them and treat it like a game. But she wants to make sure her future husband has a suitable temperament, after all, before committing to anything.

ANYONE/ANYTHING: really, she’s just so…666% extroverted. She’s been talking to the same people every day for five years. At this point she’d talk to anybody.

#1642hqsintro #ABOUT || she wears bright flowers & has a heart like stone

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flowerslut · 4 years

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DAY TWO: SOULMATES Rated: K+ for mentions of death. Words: 3,701

When you’re born with a dead soulmate, what more can you do?

THE CORPSE’S BRIDE

Disposing of newborns was far from Jasper’s favorite thing to do. He’d been forced to improvise as the years dragged on, using distraction, lies, and manipulation to lure the doomed vampires to their final resting place. Anything to keep their emotions from striking him harder than physical blows could.

He was finishing up cleaning out their lot—this year’s newborns had been a disappointing crew, not strong or skilled enough to help them gain back their eastern lands—when the strange feeling first took hold of him.

He’d been mid-sentence when he paused, turning to look around at the dark plains, their abandoned shack way off on the horizon.

The newborn he was to dispose of, a mild-mannered man who shook during battle yet had somehow avoided defeat all the same, turned as well, his eyes fearfully raking across the area as well, no doubt terrified that something he couldn’t see had caused the Major to stop and react.

Jasper brushed the feeling away as he turned back toward the man, lifting a disarming hand to give an almost-friendly smack against his shoulder, sending forth a wave of indifference as he led them forward. He couldn’t lead the man too far forward or he’d undoubtedly smell the venom that was seeping into the ground several hundred yards away, and he’d understand where the rest of their new crew had gone.

But it was in that instant, as he was patting Niko’s shoulder, that Jasper saw it, bright against his pale, scarred skin. He froze again, and any air of comfort he’d been carefully cultivating vanished into thin air as shock set in fully.

Niko reacted the same as Jasper, jumping slightly to twist out of the way of Jasper’s frozen arm, his frightened eyes looking from Jasper’s face to his wrist, and seeing the sight immediately.

A gasp shattered the silence, and for the first time since they’d changed him the previous winter, Niko stopped shaking. Instead, wonder filled the man and he stepped closer to examine Jasper’s wrist.

“A soul mark,” he whispered, red eyes wide as he leaned closer—but not too close, he knew better—to look at the tiny red heart that almost looked to be glowing. The man smiled then, still wracked with shock, and turned toward Jasper, “you have a soulmate! I—”

Jasper ripped his head off then, trying to act as quickly as he could to prevent the doomed man from speaking any further. As fast as he could manage he grabbed the remains and brought them across the clearing, tossing the body onto the rest.

He didn’t realize he was now shaking until he realized he couldn’t light the match.

His eyes moved straight toward the tiny mark again.

There was no way he could hide it. And even if he did what his brain was currently considering, and if he ripped the portion of flesh away with his own teeth, Maria would know.

She always knew.

Maria, whose own tiny heart was now a tragic, black color. Her mate—her soulmate—long dead and gone.

Eventually he lit the match, ignited the pyre, and turned to make his way back to the shack at the edge of the horizon.

If anything, Maria would see it, witness his indifference, and be pleased. What better way to pledge your loyalty then to overlook a newly minted wrist, fresh with the promise of true love?

Stomping his way back to Maria, he inhaled deeply, mouth filling with venom as he realized they’d get to go into town and feed now.

What was supposed to be the allure of love when fresh blood tasted so sweet?

————————————

It wasn’t until years later—nearly two decades since the mark appeared on his wrist—that Maria finally commented on it.

They were going over strategy for an upcoming encounter when Maria made a sad noise, her tongue clicking with pity as amusement began to radiate from her.

“Ah, muy triste.”

Jasper ripped his mind off their carefully-drawn map to meet her eyes. He didn’t need to follow her gaze to know exactly what she was looking at.

“Tu amor,” she frowned dramatically, her lip jutting out in a way that made Jasper suddenly angry, “está muerta.”

His eyes fell upon his soul mark instantly, but the red mark was gone. In it’s place, one that was startlingly familiar. A mark he’d seen on Maria’s wrist as long as he’d known her. A tiny black heart; indicative of a dead soulmate.

His soulmate, wherever they were, was now dead.

He forced himself to not care, ignoring the way the universe seemed to shift around him in that instant, and continued planning out their next course of attack.

His soulmate hadn’t mattered to him during their life; he’d be damned if they mattered to him at all dead.

————————————

When Lillian Brandon grew pregnant with her first child, she’d been elated. She’d been married for barely six months when her body began to weaken as her stomach began to expand. It was a hard, unforgiving pregnancy, but Lillian kept her spirits high, too excited about the prospect of a child of her own to care.

Edgar, her husband, wasn’t a warm man. If anything, ‘business’ man could go at the top of the list of words used to describe him. She was sure he had colleagues with words far more descriptive, and far more cruel. But throughout her pregnancy, he pulled back from work, making it so that she never went without so much as a sip of water.

Through the months her body was racked with illness, the pregnancy something her slight frame could just barely handle, and by October of 1901 she knew that it was nearly time.

Two days into the month Lillian’s health took a nosedive, and Mary-Alice Brandon was born into the world.

Born cold and unmoving, suspected to be stillborn, she didn’t cry when introduced to the world. Her eyes calm and open and seeing from her first few minutes. Mary-Alice had all ten fingers, all ten toes, and a tuft of barely-there black hair on the crown of her head.

One thing Mary-Alice didn’t have, was a red soul mark.

The whispers floated through the hospital despite Edgar’s swift demand that her tiny wrest be covered immediately. While other babies born with a soul mark were all the same—small, red, and heart-shaped on the inside of a wrist—Alice’s had been different.

Mary Alice Brandon had been stamped with a full black mark, indicating something that only older adults and those struck by tragedy knew: a dead soulmate.

After Lillian was stable enough to hold and feed her baby, she examined the girl’s tiny wrist, held the infant close, and cried with all of her might.

————————————

It wasn’t until the marks began to appear, that they knew something was wrong. Those with living soulmates enjoyed many features of having a person tied to them beyond what could be seen or felt. Some had dreams that were shared. Others enjoyed eerily similar tastes in food and aesthetics. Lillian Brandon had a cousin who could feel his soulmate’s pain as if it were his own; an experience that was as scary as it was rare.

Alice was four days old when the first mark appeared.

Scar marks weren’t uncommon, but to gain them meant one thing: you had a soulmate, and they were being hurt.

Mary-Alice had been gifted with a dead soulmate from birth. When the first bright purple crescent moon splotch appeared on her tiny forearm, Lillian had almost fainted.

Edgar had been beside himself with frustration, demanding that local doctors and clergymen help fix his infant daughter, using sums of money to ensure the utmost discretion.

But the marks never remained for longer than a week at a time. And by the time the baby was several weeks old, she’d already had a rainbow of marks appear across her limbs, and fade within days.

When Mary-Alice was four months old, the first mark appeared on her face and Edgar swore to Lillian that no child of his would be caught around town with a black heart and a mottled face.

————————————

Lillian theorized heavily for many years, trying to make sense of the marks that appeared and disappeared on her daughter’s skin, despite the proof of her true-love already lost.

It wasn’t until Mary-Alice was a girl, attending school with as much cover as they could get away with under the Mississippi sun, when they grew alarmed.

“He’s out there Mama,” Mary-Alice had smiled up at her mother, her two front teeth missing. “It’s okay. I’m not sad. You shouldn’t be either.”

When Lillian had made Mary-Alice swear to never repeat those words to her father, the girl had frowned, nodded, and skipped away. Her hair was braided down her back, dancing as she moved, revealing a sour yellow mark against the back of her neck.

————————————

When Mary-Alice was eight a group of boys on the schoolyard cornered her. A pink mark that bisected her face in two had appeared in the middle of their arithmetic lessons, causing a bit of a scene and a hefty disruption.

Miss Palmer had dismissed their lessons early that day, unable to control the unruly class, some children jeering, others screaming at Mary-Alice, who refused to even look ashamed at the mark. And when the child refused to move herself to the back of the room to continue on with the school day, the frazzled teacher had sent them all out.

The comments and taunts were routine now, but she hated them all so severely for each insult hurled her way as they circled her, laughing and preventing her escape.

“Off to the graveyard Mary-Alice?”

“How many dead people do you kiss?”

“Enough to try and find your husband?”

“Is it true the morgue lets you check all the arms before they bury the bodies?”

“Aye, Mary-Alice! Old man Kemper’s been dead three weeks now! Maybe he can help you find your husband!”

“Maybe she’s a witch—she’ll show up in a few years with her undead husband still covered in dirt and worms.”

Then, the boy with the lightest hair grabbed her shoulder and turned toward his friends. Alice tensed under his touch. The boy, Wilhelm, always knew what to say to get under her skin, and to push things too far. “Hey, hey. Maybe she is. But maybe he’s deader than a doornail and always has been! That’s why Mary-Alice gets so upset. She knows he’s never comin’ to find her and that she’ll probably die lookin’ for him! There, there, Mary-Alice,” he turns toward her and frowns, patting her shoulder with fake sympathy.

The surrounding boys all began to frown and nod, some of them fake-crying as they called out “Oh, poor, poor Mary-Alice! A husband deader than a doornail! Long dead and gone and never coming ‘round for supper! A dead-man’s soulmate!”

Mary-Alice ripped herself out of her classmate’s grip, put her arms in front of her and charged, pushing her way through the boys who called after her even as she easily escaped their circle. “Be quiet! Be quiet! Be quiet!” She shrieked.

As she ran back home, tears stinging her eyes, they laughed and laughed and laughed.

————————————

Edgar put an end to the girl’s schooling not long after.

It wasn’t until the third day of home-lessons, upon realizing that this was to be a permanent fixture in her life, that she threw a fit.

“It’s not fair,” she yelled at her father when he returned home from work that evening, stomping her foot, her fists curled at her sides. “He’s out there! I’m serious!”

“Enough, Mary-Alice!” her father had bellowed, but when he lifted his hand to physically silence her, the girl flinched backward, out of reach of her father’s arm. “I am tired of these ridiculous ideas! You need to move past this… this soulmate business!”

“But he is,” Mary-Alice pointed to the orange mark on her palm, “he is alive! See?”

“You are to stay home to continue your schooling,” he spoke the words with finality. “Until you can get these wild dreams out of your head and control your rantings, you will remain here.”

And that had been that.

Mary-Alice cried herself to sleep that night. And the next night. And the next.

————————————

Mary-Alice was fourteen when she first saw her father with his wrist uncovered.

Well. No. She was fourteen when she saw the vision of the moment in which she would discover her father’s uncovered wrist.

She would be helping Cynthia prepare for a walk around the block, tying the young girl’s bonnet under her chubby chin, when her father’s form would catch her eye. His back would be to them where he was standing by the door, adjusting the deep brown band he’d always kept fastened around his left wrist.

An act of clumsiness would cause the band to fall to the ground. And he was none the wiser to Mary-Alice’s attentive gaze as he leaned forward, fetching the band to reattach it to his limb.

But in the seconds it took for him to grab the band, Mary-Alice would see the tiny space where a heart should have been, but wasn’t.

It would stun her into silence and she’d force her gaze back down to her little sister, managing a weak smile at the sound of the young girl’s prodding.

Back in the present day, Mary-Alice was still fourteen. The bonnet she would tie around Cynthia’s chin had yet to be purchased. And Edgar Brandon’s wrist was still firmly covered at all times. In the back of her mind she realized that in her strange absence from the present—something that happened more and more often as she grew older—she’d dropped a glass of water, sending it shattering and wet across the kitchen floor, but she couldn’t bring herself to react.

Shock was quick to strike, but betrayal sank deep into her bones, forcing her feet to remain planted.

Her mother had never hid her own soul mark. The white heart indicated that not only did she have a soulmate, but she’d met them. Most couples with soul marks that were together had matching white hearts. She’d even once witnessed, at the market, a meeting of two people. She’d watched, stunned as the man’s red heart slowly turned to pink and then to white, the newly-acquainted couple hugging tightly as the realization struck them.

Now, she found herself stunned at an entirely new realization.

Her mother had a soulmate, whom Mary-Alice had assumed was her own father.

Her mother had a soulmate. And her father didn’t.

They weren’t soulmates.

————————————

The discovery that her parents weren’t soulmates marked a changing point for Mary-Alice. She realized her father would never understand what she was going through; perhaps he was even jealous, she theorized once.

It also marked a point in time where Mary-Alice’s visions weren’t just rare occurrences, but now nearly daily disruptions. She would walk into door frames and stumble down stairs. She burnt herself on the stove and her first reaction wasn’t to remove her hand but was ‘I wonder if he’ll have a mark here’.

She refused to believe that her soulmate was dead, despite what the heart on her wrist said. She didn’t have visions of him. Instead, in her dreams, vague feelings struck her, bringing her hope, comfort, and a feeling so warm and exhilarating she could only describe it as love. She had a vague idea of what he might look like. Tall, she thought. With honey-blonde hair.

He was peppered with scars. He had to be. The colorful marks she still regularly found herself sporting confirmed it. Maybe he’d been ill as a child, or an infant, and maybe the universe had been wrong to mark her heart as greyed instead of full of life. Maybe he lived in a horrible place, around horrible people who hurt him constantly. Maybe his heart was beating, just broken. Metaphorically dead instead of literally.

All Mary-Alice knew was that her soulmate was out there, and that she would one day find him.

————————————

The day they buried her mother, Mary-Alice’s mind was far away.

She couldn’t think about anything except for whoever had Lillian’s matching heart. It was surely as black as her own, now.

————————————

Her first night in the hospital, Mary-Alice laid on her cot, eyes swollen shut from crying, throat raw from the screaming she’d done over the past few days.

The nights morphed into days, and together they formed weeks, and then months.

The treatments grew stronger until Mary-Alice knew that she wouldn’t be herself soon enough.

During one of the last night’s she was lucid enough to recall who she was, she contemplated digging words into her skin. If her soulmate also received marks whenever Mary-Alice was injured, maybe she could send him a message.

That night with a sharpened fingernail she carved the words ‘HELP ME’ into her thigh.

The next day they increased the intensity of her treatment.

The following day she forgot who Mary-Alice was.

————————————

Wandering rainy streets wasn’t something Jasper enjoyed making a habit of. After all, humans stared far more when a person looked out of place.

He wiggled his toes uncomfortably in the shoes he’d recently acquired and ducked beneath the awning of a closed down marketplace. It was Sunday and the humans had all made their way back from their services to their homes. The occasional automobile would roll through the streets but besides that, the area was quite empty.

It was something that didn’t bode well for Jasper. He knew it was wiser to wait until the night to feed, but he was so thirsty that he knew he would have to seek out a hobo sooner than nightfall before his self-control gave way.

A young couple ran past him, their shoes splashing through the pooled water on the sidewalks as they laughed, enjoying being caught in the sudden rainstorm.

Their scent wafted toward him, causing Jasper to take two steps toward them, entirely unintentional. It was when his eyes caught sight of their hands, joined tightly and swinging as they moved, that he was able to pull himself together and grind his feet to a halt.

Two matching white hearts stared back at him, and Jasper felt his chest ache.

On a list of regrets so long Jasper didn’t realistically have the time to even pen such a thing, disregarding the presence of his soulmate had slowly worked its way directly to the top.

It wasn’t something he’d given any thought to when his soulmate had been alive. And it wasn’t until years after that they he gave them a singular thought.

The night Maria had changed four newborns just west of Corpus Christi, Peter’s red heart had turned black. Jasper had been frustrated at the man’s distress for hours, abandoning his partner to the outskirts of town just to escape his emotional state.

When he returned that night, Peter had covered his mark with a torn piece of cloth.

It wasn’t until almost a year later, when he was slated to send Charlotte, a tiny, weak recruit, off to the pyres when Peter interfered.

“Look,” the blonde man had forced his wrist into his line of sight, Jasper smacking it away instantly with a glare. “It’s her, Major. You can’t do it.”

It had taken Jasper a few seconds for the meaning of everything to sink fully into his brain. Soulmate. Peter had had a soulmate. And she had died. But really, she had been turned. And it was his job now to kill her.

“Go,” Jasper spat quickly, not giving himself enough time to think about what he was doing. All he knew was that if the pair didn’t take his advice in the next five seconds, his hand would be forced and he’d have to kill them both.

He didn’t see them again until years later when Peter came back, pleading with him to follow.

And with his red-turned-black-turned-white heart impossible to ignore, Jasper followed Peter, and didn’t look back

Except, of course, to think about his own soulmate.

Peter and Charlotte had been almost eagerly supportive. After all, if they could find one another in their strange little immortal afterlife, what was to say that Jasper wouldn’t find his soulmate? They dragged him from city to city for a few years, and at first Jasper wanted to believe them. Of course, the idea of seeking out others of their kind was an asinine one—Jasper was sick of killing—but discovering that the north knew peace was almost too good to be true sometimes.

He’d last seen them four years ago. He’d grown weary. And their undying belief that he’d still find his person eventually made him miserable. In addition to the terror that haunted him with every hunt, Jasper had been barely holding onto whatever was left of his sanity for a long time now.

During his solitude he thought hard about his human life, wracking his brain for any information he could recall about soulmates, but he found himself coming up short. He couldn’t remember his parents names and faces, let alone whether they’d been soulmates or not. The only thing he was sure of was that he’d been born without a soul mark, given one around the turn of the twentieth century, and then soon after it had blackened.

Lifting his eyes, neon lights across the street earned his attention. It was a diner. Tiny, not-very-occupied. And with a quick decision he realized he could hide out in there until it emptied a bit more—and when the rain let up, he was sure that it would—he could help himself to a meal, and move on from this town.

He took one step into the street, pushing all errant thoughts of soulmates and soul marks straight from his head.

It would do him no good to think of things so hopeless.

————————————

In a small diner in 1948, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Alice found Jasper, Jasper found hope, and two black hearts turned white.

#jaliceweek20 #twilight fanfiction #the twilight saga #Alice cullen #jasper hale #ok this is cute I think. if you like squint.#Everything Is The Same But Soulmates Babey!#look guys I did it! a one shot!!!#its almost 4k words but shut UP its a stand alone piece and I'm HAPPY ABOUT THAT

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potscenarios · 3 years

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Hiiii! I don't know if I'm requesting right but headcanons or scenario (whichever you prefer) with Yandere!Sanada finding out that his darling has been engaged to another guy by her parents? Thank you if you get to answer this 😆

Yup, don't worry, you did send in the right format! Thank you for following the rules! ♡

Mmmm yessss, yandere boys are my favourite!! *chef's kiss* as you can tell from how long this became oopsies

Tw: yandere (duh), stalking, possesive behavior, toxic parents, death

Sometimes you feel like you're being watched.

It's a weird feeling, to say the least. Whenever it happens, there’s a very subtle change in the air, but you always gets goosebumps at the back of your neck, and you know that something - no, someone, is watching your movements from the shadows. Whoever does it conceals their presence so well, you don’t think anyone around you ever realizes. The only reason you realise that something feels wrong is because you've been raised preciously in your traditionally oriented family, and you've learned to take cues and be cautious of everyone else's needs, so you’re quite sensitive to changes in your surroundings.

You’re thankful that you’re childhood friends with Yukimura Seiichi and his younger sister, because somehow you end up being friends with the whole Rikkai Dai tennis club members, and that means you can always count on them to walk you back home. Even though practice mostly run until late, you would rather wait and watch, because it’s still better than going back alone, and you don’t exactly have other close friends. Your parents doesn’t like it, but you manage to convince them that it’s better than being alone in case something happens, since you’re not allowed to have a cellphone.

Besides, you can always count on Marui to stop by some newly opened cake shops, Yukimura to entertain you with his stories of how he had just added a new plant to his collection, and Kirihara to drag you to the convenience store near the school to sneak in some light snacks before dinner.

But out of all of them your favorite is still Sanada; mainly because he always seem to know what’s in your head.

On the times you don’t feel like going back home (there are very minimal entertainment sources in your house, because your parents hates technology with a passion), he would ask whether you want to drop by your beloved cafe and spend some time here until it’s right before dinner time. Whenever you feel like taking a walk outside before going back home, he’s always there to accompany you, buy you a drink when you’re tired, and sit in silence with you as you stare at the orange colored sky. He just knows.

Sometimes it feels like if you ask him to steal you away from that stuffy prison you call your home, he would comply without question.

There’s a part of you that desperately want to confess to him already.

But that’s unfair to him because you know you’re going to get married off to some guy you never met before. Your parents don’t change their mind that easily, and they’ve continuously drilled this knowledge into you way back since you entered middle school, and the implication is clear in your head - you’re not allowed to have boyfriends. Period.

That, and it’s shameful to confess first, being a woman. Or at least that’s what your parents taught you. You used to think it was common sense, until you saw girls confess to their crushes under the infamous Rikkai sakura tree and you saw how happy they look as a couple at school. It was the first time you realized that maybe your parents aren’t some kind of holy existence that never makes any mistakes.

You think you can just go on with your life. It’s what you’ve been doing all your life; being the perfect daughter for your parents, and then the perfect wife for whoever they want to ship you off to. That’s just how your life is.

“I don’t think that’s what you really want,” Yukimura’s younger sister said when she stopped by your house after the shopping trip to look for Seiichi’s birthday present, and you tell her your situation, “I still think you should just confess to Sanada-san. He’ll make it work somehow.”

“How?” you ask, frowning.

“.... I dunno, but knowing him, he’ll do something about it,” she tilts her head, “I didn’t want to say this but one time onii-chan told me Sanada-san also loves you very very much.”

Ironically, the very morning you decide you would take your only female friend’s advice, is the same morning your parents stop you from coming to school.

“Omiai...? Now? But... I... I have school....”

Your mother says she has already contacted the school. Your father says it doesn’t matter, since once you get married you can just stop attending school altogether. You stare at them in disbelief, unable to believe that this was happening so fast. You’re only in high school. You’re not even an adult yet by law.

You really can’t do this anymore.

You find that your soon-to-be husband is a few years older than you (honestly Sanada would have passed as an adult as well). He’s healthy, first-born son of a well-off family, did fairly well on his academics (Sanada generally does well on his academics too) and is splendidly helping to manage his father’s company (you imagine Sanada as a civil servant or an office worker and you think he’ll just look even better wearing a suit). He’s quite handsome (though Sanada is more handsome, you think) and has no criminal records (you’re pretty sure neither does Sanada). Your parents think he’s perfect (you don’t).

He’s throwing polite compliments to your mother, empty praises to your father, and tells you that you look beautiful in a kimono. If only your parents know how devoid of emotion your smile is, compared to the smile you showed when Sanada awkwardly tells you the same praise upon seeing you with casual clothes for the very first time outside school. If only your parents sees you as their daughter and not mere object. If only.

You’re seeing them off outside the kaiseki restaurant when you feel it. Eyes watching your back, somewhere, somehow. The car of your fiancé drives away, and when it turns into a corner you let out a heavy sigh, which draws the attention of your parents.

You really can’t do this anymore.

“I don’t want this.”

Nothing prepares you for the force against your cheek upon your slip of tongue. Your knees feel weak and you fall down onto the ground, eyes blinking back tears of pain, mind in disarray. Your left cheek stings and your hand instinctively comes up to cover it. Your other hand prickles as they graze against the rough ground. Despite this, the two adults look apathetic as they glare down at you.

Their words of scolding enters your right ear and goes out your other ear without being processed in your brain.

You really can’t do this anymore.

That night, you don’t remember how you manage to sneak out from your house at two in the morning, but the next thing you know you’re already sobbing into the nearest payphone pleading for help, and in just five minutes Sanada shows up, wraps you in his jacket, grabs your freezing cold hand, and leads you to his home.

For some reason he readily has the t̵̜̓ea you like on hand, and the guest room is perfectly prepared and cleaned. It’s as if he knows things would turn out like this.

But then again, he always knows, and you’re so tired and the futon is so comfy and Sanada’s arms feel so safe, so you slip into a deep, deep sleep.̵

When you wake up the next day, you feel a lot lighter and fresher than usual.

It’s thankfully Saturday, and so Sanada lets you sleep in, which is very nice of him. You know he’s a man of routine, so you assume he’s probably doing some kind of training, and you don’t want to disturb him. It would be rude to wander about the house you weren’t formally invited as a guest in, and you can’t just leave without telling Sanada first. There’s a TV in the room, and so you excitedly switch it on, flicking through the channels aimlessly.

It’s when you flick over to the news channel that your excitement completely disappears and is replaced by shock.

Your house - or at least what's left of it - is showing on the TV screen. The wooden building is barely standing, burnt pillars looking like it might crumble any second. In fact, several sections has given out, ashes and soot piling up. The sight is so familiar and yet so foreign. You can point out where the kitchen was, where your bedroom would have been, and yet they don't look like anything you remember.

You listen silently to the news anchor's words but they don't make any sense.

"..... police suspect it's accidental fire....."

"..... the spread was exceptionally quick....."

"..... two unidentified bodies were found and transported...."

Maybe it's five minutes later, or it could even be five hours later, you don't know. But when you hear your name and you turn towards Sanada, your eyes are red and the crushing sadness in your chest has been replaced by a hollowness you don't know if you'll ever be able to fill back in.

"Sanada-san....."

He briefly glances towards the television screen. The burnt down house isn't displayed anymore, but seeing the news program and your physical state are enough for him to piece the information together.

But all he says as he hands you what he was carrying is, "I brought ice for your cheek."

"..... Oh. Thank you."

The coldness feels good against your slightly swollen cheek. The television shuts off. You can see Sanada quietly sitting down in front of you. Still, you keep your head down, not really able to think of any conversation topic at the moment. Not when your world feels like it's falling apart rapidly.

"How are you feeling?"

Surprisingly it's him who tries to start the conversation. Sanada might not be as rigid and silent around you, but you're usually the talker - the one who entertains him, because you're groomed to do so.

"... Not... Good...."

You were always taught to smile and pretend things are okay, but... But it's fine if it's Sanada, you suppose. And it's not like your parents are around anymore to correct your behavior.

The soft call of your name - your first name, makes you look up, eyes wide in surprise. It's so foreign to hear your name in his voice.

"It's going to be okay."

You don't know how he can sound so convinced.

"How can... But I don't... I don't know what to do now..."

You're pretty sure Sanada is preparing to launch into a whole lecture in mind. He's going to tell you to go to the hospital and the police to sort our everything. He's going to ask you whether one of your relatives are in town and bring you there for the time being. And when no one offers you to stay with them, which is very likely seeing as your parents were definitely not the most social people on Earth, then-

"Then leave everything to me."

"..... Huh?"

Sanada sees your shock and apparently interprets it as rejection, for his frown deepens and something dark seems to shift in his eyes.

".... Would you rather go back to that... appointed partner of yours?"

You hadn't even thought of that possibility, and you shake your head immediately in response, a strong denial at the tip of your tongue - before the thought hits you and this time you look at Sanada in confusion, "H-How.... How did you know about the arranged marriage?"

For a moment, the male in front of you looks a tad guilty, but he quickly schools his face to his stone cold expression, though you can still see warmth and concern in his eyes.

"Don't worry about that. More importantly, if you do not wish to be engaged to that man, then-"

"Sanada-san, were you the one who had been stalking me all these time?"

The words come out before you can stop them, sharp and accusatory and it’s as if they echo within the suddenly quiet room.

Please say no.

Maybe all the while you've already known, because how else can he just seem to know what you did whenever he's not around? But the very thought that someone you love, someone who is always so courteous and kind, had been doing such a creepy thing behind your back was just...

Please say no.

"I wasn't stalking you," he says calmly as your heart is palpitating faster.

Yes. Oh, thank g-

"I was guarding you. Making sure you got home safely. That no one is giving you a hard time."

No. No no no nonono no-

"That-That's still stalking," you manage to say, though your voice is shaky and you think you're about to burst into tears or vomit the entirety of your stomach or maybe both, "I can't believe- Of all people, w-why did it had to be you?! Why now! H-How could you..!!"

Again, the sweet sound of your name comes from his lips, and he’s using that soft, loving tone that normally always made you feel all tingly and warm inside, “You need to calm down.”

It's unfair that he's acting like this when you have nothing left to hold on to. You shouldn't be content with crying into his chest; you should be running away and telling the police. It’s unfair how is he so comforting and gentle, with calloused fingers running down your back to comfort you, when you should be pushing him away. But how are you supposed to push away the only person who’s keeping you sane in this bleak nightmare?

"You have me. You have nothing to worry about."

First your family, and now the man you love.

"Let me take care of everything."

It seems like your fate is to be a bird trapped in a birdcage.

"I will make sure n̴o one can hurt my dearest future wife, ev̴er again."

#prince of tennis #tennis no oujisama #sanada genichirou #rikkai #prince of tennis scenarios #tw: yandere #tw: stalking #tw: possessive behavior #tw: toxic parents #tw: death #female reader

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silent-era-of-cinema · 3 years

Text

Barbara La Marr (born Reatha Dale Watson; July 28, 1896 – January 30, 1926) was an American film actress and screenwriter who appeared in twenty-seven films during her career between 1920 and 1926. La Marr was also noted by the media for her beauty, dubbed as the "Girl Who Is Too Beautiful," as well as her tumultuous personal life.

Born in Yakima, Washington, La Marr spent her early life in the Pacific Northwest before relocating with her family to California when she was a teenager. After performing in vaudeville and working as a dancer in New York City, she moved to Los Angeles with her second husband and became a screenwriter for Fox Film Corporation, writing several successful films for the company. La Marr was finally "discovered" by Douglas Fairbanks, who gave her a prominent role in The Nut (1921), then cast her as Milady de Winter in his production of The Three Musketeers (1921). After two further career-boosting films with director Rex Ingram (The Prisoner of Zenda and Trifling Women, both with Ramon Novarro), La Marr signed with Arthur H. Sawyer to make several films for various studios, including The Hero (1923), Souls for Sale (1923), and The Shooting of Dan McGrew (1924), the first and last of which she co-wrote.

During her career, La Marr became known as the pre-eminent vamp of the 1920s; she partied and drank heavily, once remarking to the press that she only slept two hours a night. In 1924, La Marr's health began to falter after a series of crash diets for comeback roles further affected her lifestyle, leading to her death from pulmonary tuberculosis and nephritis at age 29. She was posthumously honored on the Hollywood Walk of Fame for her contributions to the film industry.

Barbara La Marr was born in 1896 as Reatha Dale Watson to William and Rosana "Rose" Watson in Yakima, Washington (La Marr later claimed she was born in Richmond, Virginia). Her father was an editor for a newspaper and her mother, a native of Corvallis, Oregon, already had one son, Henry, and a daughter, Violet, from a previous marriage. La Marr's parents had wed some time during 1884, and had a son, William Watson, Jr., born in June 1886, ten years before she was born. Through her mother, La Marr was of German and English descent.

In the 1920s, the elder Watson became a vaudeville comedian under the stage name of Billy Devore. The Watsons lived in various locations in Washington and Oregon during La Marr's formative years. By 1900, she was living with her parents in Portland, Oregon, with her brother William, her half-sister Violet Ross, and Violet's husband Arvel Ross. As a child, La Marr also performed as a dancer in vaudeville, and made her acting debut as Little Eva in a Tacoma stage production of Uncle Tom's Cabin in 1904.

By 1910, La Marr was living in Fresno, California, with her parents. Some time after 1911, the family moved to Los Angeles, and La Marr worked at a department store. La Marr also appeared in burlesque shows. In January 1913, her half-sister, now going by the name of Violet Ake, took her 16-year-old sister on a three-day automobile excursion with a man named C.C. Boxley. They drove up to Santa Barbara, but after a few days, La Marr felt that they were not going to let her return home. Ake and Boxley finally let La Marr return to Los Angeles after they realized that warrants were issued for their arrests, accusing them of kidnapping. This episode was published in several newspapers, and La Marr even testified against her sister, but the case eventually was dropped. La Marr's name appeared frequently in newspaper headlines during the next few years. In November 1914, she came back to California from Arizona and announced that she was the newly widowed wife of a rancher named Jack Lytell and that they were supposedly married in Mexico. She also stated that she loathed the name Reatha and preferred to be called by the childhood nickname "Beth."

After marrying and moving in with her third husband, vaudevillian Ben Deely, La Marr, who at one time had aspirations of being a poet, found employment writing screenplays at Fox Film Corporation using the name Folly Lyell. She wrote numerous scenarios for studio shorts at Fox and United Artists, many of which she based on her life, earning over US$10,000 during her tenure at the studios. She was credited as writer Barbara La Marr Deely on the films The Mother of His Children, The Rose of Nome, Flame of Youth, The Little Grey Mouse, and The Land of Jazz (all released in 1920).

La Marr continued to write short screenplays for the studio and supported herself by dancing in various cities across the country, including New York City, Chicago, New Orleans, and at the 1915 World's Fair in San Francisco. La Marr's dance partners included Rudolph Valentino and Clifton Webb, and her dance routines attracted the attention of publisher William Randolph Hearst, who featured her and a dance partner in a series of articles published in the San Francisco Examiner around 1914.

While working in the writers' building at United Artists, La Marr was approached by Mary Pickford, who reportedly embraced her and said, "My dear, you are too beautiful to be behind a camera. Your vibrant magnetism should be shared by film audiences." La Marr's association with filmmakers led to her returning to Los Angeles and making her film debut in 1920 in Harriet and the Piper. Though a supporting part, the film garnered her attention from audiences. La Marr made the successful transition from writer to actress with her supporting role in The Nut (1921), playing a femme fatale. Later the same year, she was hired by Douglas Fairbanks to play the substantial part of Milady de Winter in The Three Musketeers.

Over the next several years, La Marr acted frequently in films, and became known to the public as "The Girl Who Is Too Beautiful", after Adela Rogers St. Johns, a Hearst newspaper feature writer, saw a judge sending her home during a police beat in Los Angeles because she was "too beautiful and young to be on her own in the big city." This publicity did much to promote her career. Among La Marr's films are The Prisoner of Zenda and Trifling Women, both 1922 releases directed by Rex Ingram. Although her film career flourished, she embraced the fast-paced Hollywood nightlife, remarking in an interview that she slept no more than two hours a night.

In 1923, La Marr appeared in the comedy The Brass Bottle, portraying the role of the Queen, and Poor Men's Wives. She had a supporting part in the Fred Niblo-directed comedy Strangers of the Night, and was noted in a New York Times review for her "capable" performance. She starred in the lead role, with Bert Lytell and Lionel Barrymore, in The Eternal City (1923), which featured a cameo appearance by Italian dictator Benito Mussolini.

In 1924, during the filming of Thy Name Is Woman, production supervisor Irving Thalberg made regular visits to the set to ensure that La Marr's alcoholism was not interfering with the shoot. The same year, La Marr's first starring, above-the-title role came in the drama Sandra, from First National Pictures, which she filmed in New York City in August 1924. La Marr had served as a co-writer on the film, which focused on a woman suffering from a split-personality disorder Upon release, the film received dismally negative reviews.

La Marr's final screenplay, titled My Husband's Wives, was produced by Fox in 1924, arriving in theaters shortly after the release of Sandra, and before the production of what proved to be her final three films: The Heart of a Siren (a mixed reception), The White Monkey (a critical failure), and The Girl from Montmartre (a critical success, albeit posthumously released). While shooting The Girl from Montmartre in early October 1925, La Marr collapsed on set and went into a coma as the studio wrapped production without her with use of a double in long shots.

Although the tally is usually given as five, La Marr officially was married only four times. No documentation exists to prove the existence of her alleged first husband, Jack Lytelle, whom she claimed to have met while visiting friends in Yuma, Arizona in 1914. According to La Marr, Lytelle became enamored with her as he saw her one day riding in an automobile while he was on horseback. The couple allegedly married the day after they met, but Lytelle, it was claimed, died of pneumonia only three weeks into the marriage, leaving only a surname for Mrs. Lytelle to inherit.

La Marr's first official documented marriage on June 2, 1914, was to a Max Lawrence, who later turned out to be a former soldier of fortune named Lawrence Converse. He already was married with children when he married La Marr under a false name, and was arrested for bigamy the following day. Converse died of a blood clot in his brain three days later on June 5.

On October 13, 1916, La Marr married Philip Ainsworth, a noted dancer. Although the son of well-off parents, Ainsworth eventually was incarcerated at San Quentin State Prison for passing bad checks, and the couple divorced in 1917. She married for a fourth time to Ben Deely, also a dancer, in 1918. Deely, who was over twice her age, was an alcoholic and a gambling addict, which led to the couple's separation in April 1921. Before the divorce from Deely was finalized, La Marr married actor Jack Dougherty in May 1923. Despite separating a year later, they remained legally married until her death.

Some years after La Marr's death, she was revealed to have given birth to a son, Marvin Carville La Marr, on July 29, 1922. The name of the boy's father has never been released. During her final illness, La Marr entrusted the care of her son to her close friend, actress ZaSu Pitts, and Pitts' husband, film executive Tom Gallery. After La Marr's death, the child was legally adopted by Pitts and Gallery, and was renamed Don Gallery. Don Gallery died in 2014.

La Marr partied long hours and got very little sleep during the latter part of her career, often pairing this behavior with drinking during especially low points; she once told an interviewer: "I cheat nature. I never sleep more than two hours a day. I have better things to do."[8] In addition to her drinking and lack of sleep, during the last two years of her life La Marr went on several extreme crash diets to lose weight.[8] La Marr was rumored to have at one time ingested a tapeworm head in a pill to help her lose weight.

By late 1925, La Marr's health had deteriorated significantly due to pulmonary tuberculosis. While filming her final feature, The Girl from Montmartre, La Marr collapsed on the set and lapsed into a coma. In mid-December, she was diagnosed with nephritis, an inflammation of the kidneys, as a complication of her already tubercular state. La Marr was bedridden through Christmas, and by late December, she reportedly weighed less than 80 pounds (36 kg).

Some historians and writers have claimed that La Marr was addicted to morphine and heroin, which she had been prescribed after injuring her ankle and which may have contributed to her health problems. In Sherri Snyder's 2017 biography of La Marr, the writer states that these claims were untrue and erroneously reported. A frequently recirculated rumor was that La Marr was arrested for morphine possession in Los Angeles; however, Snyder states that this claim was mistakenly attributed to La Marr, when it had in fact been actress Alma Rubens who had been arrested in January 1931, five years after La Marr's death. Ben Finney, a close friend of La Marr, contested the claims of drug use, stating: "It is inconceivable that during our close friendship I would not have known if she were a junkie," adding, "She did well enough with booze."

On January 30, 1926, La Marr died of complications associated with tuberculosis and nephritis at her parents' home in Altadena, California, at the age of 29. Her friend, film director Paul Bern, was with her when she died. La Marr's son later speculated that Bern may have been his biological father, though this eventually was disproved; Bern died in a mysterious shooting six years later.

La Marr's funeral at the Walter C. Blue Undertaking Chapel in Los Angeles attracted over 3,000 fans, and five women reportedly fainted in the crowd and had to be removed by police to safety. After her removal from the church during the funeral procession, hundreds of fans flooded the chapel hoping to obtain flowers from the decorative arrangements. She was interred in a crypt at Hollywood Cathedral Mausoleum, in the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. For her contribution to the motion picture industry, La Marr has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 1621 Vine Street.

Producer Louis B. Mayer, a longtime admirer of La Marr, named actress Hedy Lamarr after her. She is also referred to in the popular 1932 Flanagan and Allen song "Underneath the Arches" during a break in which Ches Allen reads the headlines from a 1926 newspaper. Children's author Edward Eager set an episode of his 1954 book Half Magic at a showing of La Marr's Sandra and includes ironic descriptions of the movie.

#barbara la marr #silent era #silent hollywood #silent movie stars #1920s hollywood

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stahlop · 4 years

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Romancing the Throne

@mariakov81 this is a late birthday present for you. I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you @profdanglaisstuff for being my beta!

This also fits my Trope Card Challenge for Star-Crossed Lovers

On Ao3

Summary: Princess Emma has run off with the notorious Captain Killian Jones, who also happens to be the brother of her father's deceased best friend.

Dearest Mother and Father,

I’m sure you are beside yourself at the thought that I may have been taken or kidnapped, but let me put your fears at rest. I am fine and have left of my own accord. I have fallen in love, and I’m sorry to have to break it to you this way, through a letter, but I wasn’t sure how else to do it. Especially, because I know, Father, that you will not be happy with my choice. I have listened to you and mother tell me your love story so many times and it is something I have always dreamed of. Unfortunately, simpering princes and other highly esteemed men who only have the crown on their mind just don’t make for a great love story. I deserve better than that. I deserve a man who sees me for me and not as a chess piece.

So, with that said, if you want to send a bird to contact me, I am aboard the Jolly Roger with Captain Killian Jones. I know what you’re thinking, that a pirate could never love a princess for more than her wealth. That I’m just being naive in what Killian really wants from me. But I’m not. He loves me and I love him and we want to be together. I’m sorry that I had to run away to prove it, but it was the only thing I could think of to do, what with you about to announce a betrothal to Count Baelfire without even consulting me (yes, I knew about that).

I love you both and I hope you can be happy for me having found my true love.

Love,

Your Daughter Emma

“What the hell is this?” King David bellows holding up the letter his wife handed him that morning along with some pastries for breakfast. They were enjoying a lazy day; dining in the lounge area of their suite instead of the formal dining room, when Snow dropped the letter in his lap.

“It seems our daughter,” Snow says, taking a bite of a delicious almond poppy danish, “has run off with the man she loves.” She says as though this was just an ordinary, everyday occurrence, that their daughter, the heir to the throne, would just run off with a pirate.

David stares at his wife, her black hair down around her shoulders; not a single strand of gray runs through it yet, unlike at his own temples. It almost reaches the bottom of her breasts. As the queen, she usually wears it up. It was only in these private moments at the beginning and the end of the day that he gets to see the woman he fell in love with all those years ago. She takes another bite of her breakfast, her red lips smiling slightly as they close over the sticky poppy seed paste in the pastry.

“What do you know?” David demands. Snow rolls her eyes. She knows how her husband gets when surprised by information, especially when that information is about his beloved daughter. “How did Emma end up with Liam’s brother?” His eyes reflect the hurt he still feels over Liam’s untimely, and unnecessary, death.

David and Liam were friends before he and Snow met. Before Killian was even born. David’s mother, Ruth, often traded lamb and mutton for fish with Liam’s father, Brennan. When Liam’s mother died while giving birth to Killian, Ruth took the boys in for a while until Brennan could get back on his feet. Having been an only child for his first 14 years (not knowing about his twin brother, James, until a few years later), having an eight-year-old and a newborn underfoot was quite a transition. But they made it work. When Brennan finally settled down in their village, having finally given himself time to grieve for his late wife, David and Liam were thick as thieves, despite their six year age difference.

It was only two years later, at the age of 19, that David was contacted by King George to pretend to be James, who had died tragically, and David was set on his path to meet Snow and eventually become king.

After they stopped Snow’s evil stepmother from trying to take over the kingdom (the woman was convinced that Snow had ruined her life by scaring off her true love and had actually made her eat an apple laced with a sleeping potion; luckily, he and Snow shared True Love, and his kiss defeated not only the sleeping curse, but stripped her stepmother of all powers she had required, don’t ask him how that worked), David went to Brennan to invite his family to come live at their castle. Brennan was grateful and Liam and Killian were ecstatic, though, Brennan refused to accept ‘charity’ and left to continue selling fish and other seaside wares, while David had the boys tutored now that they were fifteen and seven. And while they missed their father, they knew they were being given the opportunity of a lifetime.

Meanwhile, Snow had fallen pregnant quickly after their official nuptials, and the next few years were focused on raising his daughter and getting the kingdoms back in order (they absorbed King George’s kingdom into Snow’s once they were married and George died).

Liam and Killian relished their lessons, they took up sword fighting, learned to ride horses, and Snow even insisted on making sure they could dance properly for the balls that she threw. At the first dance she was allowed to attend, five-year-old Emma made thirteen-year-old Killian dance with her, Liam and David laughing the whole time at Killian’s ears turning bright red.

Once they were old enough, they joined the kingdom’s navy. David had never been a prouder king and friend than when he finally got to promote Liam to Captain and Killian to Lieutenant. And he never thought lending out his two top officers to a neighboring kingdom for an exchange program meant to foster unity would result in the tragic loss of Liam’s life.

Killian came and told him himself. David barely recognized him. He looked much older than his 20 years, which was ridiculous because when he’d seen him right before they’d left on the mission he’d thought he’d looked so young still. Now there was a hardened man in front of him, grieving over his brother. The king had sent them on, what was supposed to be, a very simple mission to retrieve a supposed healing plant. Except the Dreamshade was actually a poison, and it killed Liam. With tears in his eyes, Killian continued to tell David how he had turned pirate in retaliation, and while he would never attack any ships in the kingdom he had once called home, he couldn’t guarantee safety for any other kingdom, especially the one that killed his brother. And while he knew becoming a pirate made him a wanted man, would David find it in his heart to look the other way as he went after the king of that neighboring kingdom?

While he didn’t agree to his plan to kill the king, David didn’t disagree with him either. And between Snow’s perfectly placed pieces of gossip and Captain Killian Jones’ attacks from the newly christened Jolly Roger the king was ousted and then mysteriously disappeared. Killian sometimes came by the castle to see David and have some connection to Liam again. Eventually, Captain Killian Jones' reputation became too great for King David to associate with, and it was with great sadness that they had to part ways. But Killian was still too angry to do something as respectable as working for a kingdom, and David couldn’t cavort with a pirate, regardless of their history.

And now, here he was with a letter in his hand stating that his daughter had apparently been cavorting with a pirate right underneath his nose.

“Explain!” David demands. Snow huffs and drops the pastry onto her plate and thoroughly wipes her hands on the napkin placed in her lap.

“They met two years ago, at Emma’s 18th birthday ball.” Snow says matter-of-factly.

“Two years ago?” David sputters. How can his daughter and his best friend’s brother have been together for two years and he not know about it?

“It was the Masquerade Ball. It was the perfect way for him to come in disguise without anyone recognizing him. And apparently it worked, because you didn’t even know he was there,” Snow says chuckling a little at this. David is not amused.

“Why was he at the ball in the first place?” David says, exasperated at the way Snow is dragging out this story.

“I invited him, of course.” She takes a sip of her tea as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. David stares at her as she sets her tea cup down and starts smoothing her night garment down under her robes.

“What is happening here?” he yells. “Snow, I need you to explain why my daughter, the princess, heir to the throne, has run off with the most feared pirate, Captain Killian Jones, and why you willingly invited him to a ball? How did you even contact him?” David thinks he now knows what going crazy must feel like. He thought Emma fleeing in the night with a pirate was bad enough, but Snow is in on this as well?

Snow gives a little huff as she pushes away from the breakfast table. She walks into her dressing room and sits at her vanity and starts to brush out her hair.

“Snow!” David says, incensed, and stomps in to join her.

Snow turns to him, brush in hand, “David!” she says in the exact same tone. He holds her gaze until she finally breaks. David knows Snow can’t keep a secret, although it seems she’s been holding onto this one for quite some time.

“Fine.” Snow huffs again and turns back toward the mirrored glass refusing to look directly at David, but does meet his eyes through the mirror. “I invited him because I knew you missed him, and Liam. I thought you could use your friend again. He keeps port in Arendelle during the colder months, according to Elsa, so I sent a bird with the invite, and he happened to be there. That’s why I wanted it to be a masquerade ball, so he could come in undetected and you two could resume your friendship. And also, because I’d heard through the grapevine that he hadn’t really ‘pirated’ in awhile.”

“But I never saw him.” David says, stating the obvious.

“No, he ran into Emma instead. Do you really not remember her dancing with the same man almost the entire ball? I even commented on it once or twice.” David tries to remember the ball. Snow throws many balls throughout the year and they tend to all blend together. But he does remember how beautiful Emma looked in her red ball gown, her hair up in a loose bun, and a tiara topping it all off. She’d not been happy about the tiara, she was very much his daughter, always wanting to sword fight and horseback ride as opposed to learning how to host dinner parties and plan balls with her mother. He vaguely recalls wondering who the stranger she was dancing with was, and thinking he looked familiar (but impossible to tell with a mask on), before being whisked away by Lancelot about some problem at the gates.

“And what? They fell in love at first sight?” David asks, still not believing this whole situation has been happening right under his nose. Snow starts to giggle at that.

“Oh, no, once she found out that he was not only a pirate but the boy who had grown up in the castle when she was younger, she completely rebuffed him. She practically had a tantrum at the end of the ball, although, out in a secluded hall where they had privacy.” Snow says smiling and knowing what her husband is going to say next.

“She was in a secluded hall with him?” David says, raising his voice again.

“Don’t worry,” a voice says from behind him, “I could hear them the whole time. I can always hear them” David turns to see Red, Snow’s closest friend and confidante, also Emma’s godmother, and also a werewolf, who has excellent hearing even as a human. She’s also the only person in the castle who doesn’t get reprimanded for coming into their private chambers unannounced. She is already dressed for the day, her lips done up in bright red lipstick and her curled hair down. While Snow did honor her with the title of a Lady, Red has never acted nor dressed like one. “Do you really think Emma could have a secret romance without me knowing about it?” Red almost looks insulted.

“So, how did they go from Emma rebuffing him, to her running away with him?” Why it is taking Snow so long to get to the part of the story he’s most interested in is beyond David. She’s usually pretty direct, but now it seems she is trying to torture him. Maybe she is.

“He kissed her.” Red says, stretching out on the chaise. “That same night. She walked away saying it could never work, they were too different, blah, blah, blah, and he went after her and kissed her. And it must have been one hell of a kiss, because he came back two weeks later, and then two weeks after that, and so forth.” Red’s smile was a devious one.

“Wait. You mean to tell me Killian has been sneaking into the castle for two years, and no one thought to tell me?” David is at the end of his rope. “I need to sit down.” He collapses onto the other end of the chaise.

“Well, look how you’re reacting David.” Snow admonishes him. “And then you went about trying to find her a husband. I mean, Baelfire, really? Do you know your daughter at all?”

David thought he had. She’d been attached to his hip from the beginning. Always calming much more easily for him than for Snow. He knew Baelfire wasn’t the best, but she’d shown no interest in any prince or nobleman since she’d become of marriageable age. Of course, now he knew why.

“You went along with the Baelfire thing!” David says to Snow. Red has started getting her ready for the day, even though Snow has dressers to do that. She’s always preferred Red’s company over hired help, ever since Red had taken her in when Snow was on the run from her stepmother.

“I knew Emma would find out about it. I was trying to get her to come clean to us about Killian. I didn’t think she’d run away with him! Away from us!” Tears form at the corners of her eyes, and David goes over to comfort his half-dressed wife. He realizes that she is just as upset about this as he is, only she already knew Emma was in love. Even if Emma hadn’t told her, she already knew and all she had wanted was to have Emma painted into a corner enough to tell her parents the truth.

They stand there for a moment, David’s arms encircling his wife, memories of their younger days when they were living in the forest on the run, having adventures that they were not quite prepared for bubbling in his mind. Emma is older than he and Snow were when they met. She’s barely been off the castle grounds, even though she’s yearned for adventure since she could walk. How many times had they found her so high up in the trees that they could barely see her? How many times had she snuck out horses to go riding in the middle of the night? How many times had she expressed her sheer and utter boredom of living a life most would dream of? They sheltered her too much, David now realizes. They were so worried about giving her the life they’d been denied at one point, that they never thought about the life she wanted to live. And that had led her to a clandestine relationship with a pirate (albeit, old family friend) right under their (his) noses.

“You said that Killian originally came to the ball because he was tired of being a pirate?” David asks, remembering how he glossed over that snippet of information earlier.

Snow breaks their embrace to look at him. “Well, the name Killian Jones hasn’t been mentioned as much recently. I think he’s lost his taste for it.” She frowns slightly. “I’m almost positive he was going to ask you if he could work for you as a privateer.”

David frowns along with her. “So why didn’t he?” He wonders.

“Because of Emma.” Red says breaking up the private moment. “He knew she yearned for adventure, and keeping up the pirate persona was exactly what Emma wanted from him, despite his reluctance to keep it up. Plus, once she asks you to forgive him for being a pirate and making him a privateer, then it all looks like she reformed him.” Snow and David give Red a befuddled look, wondering how she knows all this. She laughs. “Just because Emma didn’t confide in you two doesn’t mean she didn’t confide in someone. She knew Killian sneaking in wouldn’t get past my hearing.” Red shrugs.

“Fine!” David says, throwing his hands up as if he’s just been bested. “Snow, send a bird!”

Our Dearest Emma,

Despite what you may believe, your father and I are thrilled that you have found love. We are only sorry that you felt the need to run away with your pirate captain instead of coming to us about it. We really hope that you will come home so we can discuss this as a family.

Love,

Your Parents

“They don’t seem mad, love” Killian says, kissing her on the temple. Sometimes he still can’t believe that this beauty by his side chose him. She is dressed in simple blue leather pants and vest over a plain white tunic. Her long blonde hair, which he’s only ever seen down (with the exception of the first night they met), is now up in a messy ponytail with braids throughout to keep the sea wind from making it a tangled mess. He blesses the gods every night that Queen Snow invited him to that ball.

“I don’t know.” Emma says. “This doesn’t seem too easy for you? I run away with a notorious pirate and they’re just okay with it?”

Killian tugs on her shoulder to face him, her eyes still lost in the short letter her parents sent. She is, understandably, confused. It’s adorable.

“You forget, my love, that I knew your father before I turned pirate. In fact, you’re the same age I was when Liam died and I went rogue. He knows I would never let any harm come to you.”

“Please don’t ever mention that you and my father used to be friends. It’s weird.” Emma makes a disgusted face and Killian laughs at her while leaning into her to softly kiss her lips.

“And,” he says slowly kissing along her jawbone, “you know I haven’t been ‘notorious’” (he growls that into her ear making her shiver) “since we met.” He pulls away from her. She stares at him, her face showing dissatisfaction at the fact that he stopped what he was doing. Killian gives her the most serious face he can muster when she’s looking so put out, and absentmindedly scratches the back of his neck. “You know I want to do right by you, Emma. This was the plan all along. Make your parents panic a little and then let them think they’ve worked out the solution for us to live happily ever after.”

Emma looks into his eyes, the ones she always compares to the blue of the ocean, the ones that she loves to stare into while they make love, and the ones she loves seeing first thing in the morning, usually before he would kiss her passionately on the lips and then sneak out before anyone in the castle knew anything was amiss. She worries her lower lip between her teeth, and slowly nods her head in agreement.

“Yes. You’re right, Killian. I…, I guess I just hoped we’d get a little more adventure before we had to go back and start palace life.” Killian smiles at her.

“Well, no one says we have to send a letter back to your parents right away. I think we could spare an extra two days before responding back, don’t you think?” Killian says, waggling his eyebrows.

“You think you’re all sexy when you do that, and I’ll just fall into your arms and do whatever you say, hmm?” Emma says getting face to face with him. Killian lifts just one eyebrow in response.

“Well, I prefer dashing rapscallion, but sexy works as well. And you do whatever I say because you love me, and you want to spend more time with me before heading home to your parents.” He smirks because he knows he’s right. Emma tries to make it seem like she’s going to disagree, but she can’t resist him for long. She grabs the lapels of his leather duster and pulls him in for a searing kiss before they head back down to his quarters to hammer out what they should write back to her parents, and other more enjoyable activities.

They arrive back at Misthaven a week later, and even though Emma has only been gone a total of two weeks, David notices how much older she seems. And how happy she looks. There is nothing in the realm that would make him want to take that smile from her face. David also sees a sense of calm and peace in Killian. Sure, Killian looks apprehensive when the Jolly Roger is met by the King and Queen themselves, but he relaxes immediately when David thrusts his hand out to shake Killian’s in acceptance. They have many details to work out, but in the end, David couldn’t have honored Liam’s memory more than to make Killian part of his family. Maybe someday David will tell them how at that first dance that five-year-old Emma attended, and thirteen-year-old Killian danced embarrassingly with her, that he and Liam joked about them marrying some day. It’s too bad Liam didn’t live to see the joke become a reality.

@profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @mariakov81 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones

#cs ff #cs fanfic #princess emma #pirate killian #david is clueless #snow knows everything #captain swan #captain swan ff

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swanqueeneverafter · 3 years

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The Once & Future Queen Pt.37

The Crystal Cave. (After several smaller rockfalls, Regina and Emma have been relegated to the sidelines by Gabrielle, who continues to clear the rocks by herself at a frenetic pace. Regina is seated on the cave floor while Emma stands over her.) Emma: "It's always going to be like this isn't it? No matter how much we try and step away, there’s always gonna be something else to drag us back. (Sighs:) I don't know, maybe retirement isn't the answer after all?" Talieson: "If it is answers that you seek, look no further." (Both Regina and Emma turn to look at the man who now stands at the entrance to the cave.) Talieson: “Please, I mean you no harm. My name is Talieson.” Emma: “I’m-” Talieson: (While Regina stands:) “I know who you are. The moment of our meeting has been written for many, many years. You are Emma and Regina. (Talieson looks over at Gabrielle and utters a spell:) Wel cene hole.” (The remaining rocks that block their path suddenly clear.) Gabrielle: (Calling back:) “I’m through! (Not waiting for them, Gabrielle climbs through the hole in search for her partner:) Xena!” Regina: (Turning back to him:) “Thank you. (Looks to Emma:) We should-” Talieson: “Your child is sleeping. She will be rescued shortly and no harm will come to her, you have my word.” Emma: “But how-” Talieson: “I may be ancient, but my memory serves me well. I want to show you something.” Regina: “Look, we appreciate the help but we have to save our daughter.” Talieson: “And then what? You still will not have the answers you seek. Now, as I have told you, Maria will be rescued in due course, but for now you must come with me.” Emma: “Where?” Talieson: “You must wait and see.” (Glancing nervously back at the way forward, Emma and Regina decide to trust the cloaked man and follow him towards a previously unseen tunnel, the light from which grows stronger with every step.)

Elsewhere in the cave... (Morgana stands beside the cradle looking down at a sleeping Maria while Mordred watches her closely.) Morgana: "You've done well to find this place, Mordred. The location of the cave was thought to have been known only to the High Priestesses." Mordred: "You above all should know that a secret does not remain so forever." Morgana: "Then perhaps you'll tell me yours. (Finally turns to him, smiling:) You intend to harm this child?" Mordred: "No, of course not. I merely wish to relieve her of the burden of the great power she possesses. Power such as hers was not meant for one so young. To be born with such ability, without fully understanding what it means..." Morgana: "So it is a kindness you wish to bestow upon her?" Mordred: "I would humbly bear the burden so that the child may live without fear of persecution." Morgana: "A fear we both know so well." Mordred: "Indeed." Morgana: "Then perhaps, if you are willing, we may share such a burden together?" (Mordred's smile falters slightly but his reply is lost at the arrival of Zelena.) Zelena: "I knew it!" Morgana: "Zelena!" Zelena: "I suppose it was a coincidence that you found Mordred first? (Scoffs:) I don’t think so." Morgana: "You don't understand-" Zelena: "I understand plenty. Now move aside or share his fate. (Conjures a large green fireball. To Mordred:) This time it seems there really is no way out." Mordred: (Draws his sword:) "I have no need of one." Zelena: "Bring it!" Morgana: "Zelena, no!" (Morgana steps in between them, knocking the fireball out of Zelena's hand and shoving her to the ground.)

Zelena: (Glaring up at her:) "You traitorous witch!" Morgana: "I- (Morgana gasps in shock as Mordred stabs her from behind. Falling to her knees, she stares up at him:) Mordred?" Mordred: "You think me a fool? What on earth did you think you would achieve by coming here? (With Morgana’s blood dripping from his blade, he looks over at Zelena, pointing the sword at her:) You are right to cower before my hand. In a few moments I will become more powerful than you can imagine." Morgana: "What happened to you, Mordred? As a child, you were so kind, so compassionate…" Mordred: (Coldly:) "I grew up." (Mordred raises the dragon-breath sword again to finish the job but the weapon is knocked out of his hand by the chakram. Watching as it bounces off the cave walls and back into the hand of its owner, Mordred glares at Xena before turning tail and retreating deeper into the cave.)

(Meanwhile, Emma and Regina continue to follow Talieson through the cave.) Regina: “Where are we going?” Emma: “Why have you brought us here?” Talieson: “In good time, you will discover all.” (He chuckles.) (They turn a corner and enter the heart of the Crystal Cave.) Emma: “What is this place?” Talieson: “This is where magic began. (Reflected inside a crystal, Regina sees Queen Emma sitting upon the throne:) What is it you see?” Regina: (Unsure:) “Images. Flashes. I’ve seen something like this before in the Crystal of Neahtid. (To Emma:) It’s what gave me the idea for my magic mirror.” Talieson: “What you see here is exactly the same, for the Crystal of Neahtid was hewn from this very cave. Look into them, Emma, Regina. Really look. Much will be revealed.” (Emma turns to look, but jerks away.) Emma: “No! Take us out of here. How do we get back to Maria?” Talieson: “The future is hidden to all but a very few, Emma. You are one such person. Perhaps there is a reason you were brought here at this moment in time.” Regina: “What reason?” Talieson: “Only the crystals can tell you. They contain futures that are not yet born. The secrets they reveal are unique to you. Look into them. Really look. Use what you see for good.” (Hesitantly, Emma and Regina walk down into the cave and gaze into the crystals. Emma sees Regina sitting upon the throne, while Regina sees a familiar looking house located somewhere in Storybrooke. Emma sees flashes of the Mayor’s office and the newly appointed Mayor seated behind the desk. Then, moving deeper into the cave, they both stare at a large crystal in the centre of the room and gasp.) Emma: “Is that?” Regina: “Maria! Look at her, Emma. She’s so strong...” Emma: “Confident...” Both: “Beautiful.”

Regina: (Spins around:) “What is this?” (Regina searches for Talieson, but he has gone.) Emma: “Regina. Look.” (Regina returns her attention to the large crystal and sees an image of both herself and Emma.) Regina: “But is that what will happen, or are these only visions of a possible future?” Emma: (Shakes her head:) "I don't know." (Elsewhere, Xena continues her search for Mordred when she hears his voice echo throughout the cave.) Mordred: "How good of you to save me the trouble of finding you." Xena: "I'm not the one who's hiding in the shadows." Mordred: (Jumping out into the light several feet away:) "I hide from no one. Fleoge! (Using his powers, Mordred hurls his dagger at Xena who deflects it with her chakram, causing it to ricochet off two cave walls. Catching the returning dagger:) Impressive. Very impressive." (Mordred sinks back into the shadows.) Xena: "I'm not interested in playing your little games, Mordred. Even if you use your magic to leave here, you know I'll find you. (Silence:) All I'm asking for is a fair fight. Sword against sword." Mordred: (Hidden:) "To the death?" Xena: "Naturally. (Mordred chuckles:) Why don't you come face me like a man, so you can die like one." Mordred: (Appearing over her shoulder:) "My pleasure." (Xena elbows him in the face, sending Mordred reeling. He throws his dagger again and Xena deflects it once more. Flipping into the air, Xena flies over Mordred's head when he charges her. Sweeping her legs as she lands, Mordred brings his sword down but Xena catches it in her hands. Wrenching the sword out of his grip, she rolls backwards onto her feet and engages Mordred in hand to hand combat. After an exchange of blocks and strikes, both Xena and Mordred leap into the air, spinning away from each other to recover their swords. From above, Gabrielle arrives just in time to see Xena and Mordred charge full speed at each other.) Gabrielle: "Xena!" (Each combatant seemingly sinks their sword into the gut of their opponent. There is a long, tense moment when Mordred smiles into Xena's face while she looks up towards Gabrielle. Lowering her gaze, Xena looks pityingly at Mordred, whose smile has turned into a grimace. Finally, he falls to his knees and slumps to the ground, dead.)

(In her hurry to join Xena’s side, Gabrielle slides down the rock face and runs uncontrollably into Xena’s arms.) Xena: (Catching her:) “Woah. Thanks for dropping by.” Gabrielle: “I’d have been here sooner, but someone thought they could use magic to blast their way out of a rock fall.” Xena: “Amateurs. If it didn’t work for Callisto, why do they think it’d work for them? (Gabrielle shrugs, looking down at Mordred’s body:) How’s the baby?” Gabrielle: “Zelena was with her last I saw. Morgana looks in bad shape, I think the wound is mortal.” (They turn and head back to find the others.) Xena: “Well surely one of the others can heal her?” Gabrielle: “That’s just it... I don’t think she wants to be healed.” Altar. (Morgana sits slumped against the altar, her head bowed and eyes unseeing. Standing either side of her, Emma and Regina try and get through to Morgana.) Regina: (Checking her wound:) “She’s been stabbed through the heart. It’s a miracle she’s not dead already.” Emma: "Morgana, if you don’t let us heal you, you will die." Morgana: "Leave me alone. There's nothing left for me now." Regina: "That's not true. Guinevere-" Morgana: (Scoffs:) "I've put Guin through far too much for one lifetime. Camelot deserves to be rid of Morgana Pendragon forever." Regina: "Morgana, please-" Morgana: "Let me die!" Zelena: (Stepping forward, carrying something under her arm:) "We will. (Puts the wooden box down on the floor and sits beside Morgana:) I think we can all agree that the time is right for Morgana Pendragon to move on. But that doesn't mean your path cannot continue."

Regina: "Zelena, what are you talking about?" Zelena: "This. (She leans over and opens the wooden box, revealing the Crimson Heart. To Morgana:) What you see before you is a choice. You can choose to start you life over, become someone completely new." Morgana: (Scoffs again:) "No one will ever forget the evils I have committed. There is no redemption possible for me." Zelena: (Laughs:) "Are you ever in the right company." Emma: "We know a place that is all about second chances. I think you'd fit right in." Regina: "And it just so happens, there's a vacancy opening pretty soon that we think you might just be perfect for." Zelena: (Nudges Morgana with her shoulder:) "So what do you say? Are you ready to spend eternity waging war against your brother and father in the Underworld, or do you want to stick around a little longer and see what life has in store for you?" Morgana: (Looks at each woman in turn before lowering her gaze to the Crimson Heart:) "How does it work?" Zelena: "Simply take it in your hand and it will do the rest. But just so we're clear on this, you'll be sacrificing your magic in exchange for your life." Morgana: (Continues to stare at the heart:) "What has magic ever done for me?" (With her last ounce of strength, Morgana reaches into the box with both hands and allows the Crimson Heart to begin siphoning her magic. Emma, Regina and Zelena watch on as a cerulean blue cascade of magic pours from Morgana's body into the heart. Finally, when drained completely of her magic, Morgana instinctively brings the Crimson Heart to her chest. Then, as a blinding white light fills the cave, the heart is absorbed within Morgana.)

#sq #swan queen #swanqueen

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theuncrownedqueen · 3 years

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The Uncrowned Queen - Ch. 1

This timeline begins years BEFORE Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

Ben Solo is still a Padawan under Luke Skywalker.

Armitage Hux is still working beneath his father's rank within the young First Order.

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Vinne Beren is the first born daughter of King Arlix Beren and his first wife. Her birth was celebrated from one corner of the planet to the next, and the people hoped she would grow to be a generous ruler like her father. However disaster struck the family when she was barely a year old.

Systems away, Ben Solo is attacked by his uncle Luke Skywalker and burns the Jedi Temple to the ground. Hundreds of young Padawans die when the young boy turns to the Dark Side.

On this same night, Vinne feels the drastic change in the Force from her crib. The baby screams and cries as she feels other Force sensitives being struck down, as if she was in pain herself. Her mother tries to comfort her, but to no avail. The baby's screams go from that of pain, to anger and betrayal. Vinne feels Ben Solo become Kylo Ren right there, as if he was in the room.

But a child this small has no idea how to use the Force, or what it can do.

Her mother realizes too late what is wrong with her child. Vinne Beren accidentally strangles her mother with the Force, the same night Kylo Ren was born, from Snoke.

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Years pass, and King Arlix has a different opinion about the Force.

He used to think the ability strong and only wielded by those strong enough to handle it. But now he sees it as a force of nature, a power only used by the mad and insane.

He blames force sensitives for the lost of the Jedi Temple and for the creation of the First Order. He blames his daughter for his first love's death.

The man has grown cold and isn't as generous as a King as he once was.

Arlix has remarried and now has a son. This son is now being groomed to be next in line for the throne, despite his older sister being firstborn.

Vinne is a quiet, small, and fragile soul compared to her now hardened father. Years of neglect and abuse from her father has her afraid to speak up for herself or her people around her. He calls her useless; a senseless murderer.

She knows she has the Force. She knows she killed her mother from a disturbance in the Force.

She's too afraid to use it.

She doesn't want to kill anybody else.

Because of this, Vinne is often ignored and thrown aside within her own home. King Arlix would only bring her outside the home for any necessary events the whole family would have to attend, but would send her away as soon as they were over. Her father resents her, her little brother acts as if she doesn't exist. Only her hand full of handmaidens tend to her day by day, which she often spends alone.

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Vinne is 19 years old when she is kidnapped off the planet in the dead of night. Her handmaids killed and she silenced before she can scream for help.

Her bandit kidnappers figure that King Arlix would pay a hefty price for the return of the Princess...

…..3 months pass and her father never pays for her return.

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Those 3 months go by relatively uneventful for Vinne. She's thrown in a cell, among others of high ranking nobility who found themselves in the same situation.

Most of them are set free once their families pay for their return.

Others die trying to escape.

Some like Vinne sit in silence, knowing they'll never be rescued.

Some of them die in their cells of starvation. She's fed because they realize they could sell the Princess to someone else who would have use of her.

Everything changes when the First Order lands on this rocky planet.

Stormtroopers are shooting down the hallways at whoever fires in their direction. The team of bandits were eventually killed while the Stormtroopers march up and down.

But they're not alone.

A tall chrome Stormtrooper orders for the location of, apparently, stolen goods. The other prisoners scream in terror as a Knight of Ren enters the room. He is tall, and wears a mask that shields his face. He takes one look around and seems uninterested in everything and everyone.

The chrome Stormtrooper returns with her men and says they found what they were looking for.

Kylo Ren orders the stormtroopers to kill everyone before they leave. He turns to walk out the room, but freezes in front of her cell.

Vinne feels the Force shudder around him and herself. He leans towards her, and the mask is the last thing she remembers before blacking out.

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Kylo Ren recognizes Vinne Beren from her missing person holograms that have resurfaced on the holonet several times. The small timid Princess, kidnapped out of her own bedroom. King Arlix giving a fake and dramatic speech about how he would search far and wide for his darling daughter.

The bandits hadn't even left the system, Arlix could've sent his forces for her at any time; he just didn't want to. But Kylo Ren's choice of bringing the young Princess onto the Finalizer was as a bargaining chip.

The First Order has been on the hunt for kyber crystals for the finishing touches of StarKiller Base.

King Arlix Beren has been smuggling kyber crystals for years. He refuses to reveal his source of supply to the First Order and will not side with them.

The one thing the newly appointed General Armitage Hux and Kylo Ren could agree on was that they could use the King's daughter as a bargaining chip to get either the kyber crystals, or King Arlix's support.

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Little did the men know was that King Arlix didn't give a shit about his daughter. He continues to throw his grand parties with his son, and behaves as if nothing is wrong within his life.

Vinne Beren is held prisoner onboard the Finalizer for another 2 months before she finally meets General Hux for the first time.

Armitage didn't have an opinion on the Princess. She was pretty, of course, but too quiet. Too meek. Kylo Ren had mentioned he felt a small flittering of the Force in her, but the girl's entire presence was tiny. The world would, and could, run her over.

Kylo stands guard at the door when Hux gives this interrogation. He gives a grand speech about her father's refusal to aid the First Order to equal to siding with this new 'Resistance' led by General Leia Organa. If she wants to leave, she will reveal all of her father's plans or her planet would suffer greatly....

.... Vinne Beren openly reveals that their planet is the source of the kyber crystals and that her father uses them in the casinos he's begun to invest in.

She also asks that they kill her now, so she wouldn't have to face him later.

Her response is enough to leave General Hux speechless and Kylo almost laughs at his expression.

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Here, Vinne actually feels the Force within her.

This General standing here front of her, she feels the distant memories of a once young boy.

You're like a slip of paper, Armitage.

You are a freak of nature, Vinne.

You'll never be anything special, boy.

You'll spend the rest of your life in this room, if it were up to me.

You are nothing!

You are worth nothing!

In those small seconds, she feels that their lives had run in a similar fashion. The great General of the First Order just had his entire childhood playout in her head, and he was none the wiser.

Kylo knew the moment General Hux's mental walls came down that she would see into him. But just how easily she slipped into his mind gave him pause.

Oh, the Princess would prove to be very useful indeed. The two men leave the room, commenting on how if she's lying, she'll pay dearly for it.

They both know she didn't lie.

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The next time Vinne sees her father, she's wearing a First Order uniform. And she realizes she hates him.

It's been a year since her kidnapping. And he has nothing to say.

And she hates him for it.

She's met most of the Knights of Ren, and the other Generals.

They're jealous of you, Armitage tells her. She knows it's true, because she can hear them.

In the last 5 months, she has been before Supreme Leader Snoke multiple times.

The first time, he called her a mouse. Kylo Ren was put in charge of her training within the Force.

The fourth time, he still called her a mouse, with the mind of a Knight of Ren.

Knowing the thoughts of everyone around her without even trying made Vinne feel powerful. Her mind was as dangerous as Kylo Ren's light saber.

They hate you., Armitage said to her one day, as they watched the Knights of Ren train with Kylo.

They'll get over it. she commented, tipping the Force just a smudge to throw one of the Knights on his side.

Armitage loves her. He watched this fragile girl blossom into a woman who realized she didn't have to take anyone's orders. She could change them herself. She had every person in the room at her command had she wanted it (minus Kylo, of course). It was undeniably attractive, and General Hux wanted to see more of her as her shell broke around her.

Vinne didn't realize how much she hated that little pile of match sticks she called a planet until her father called for a meeting between himself and the General.

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King Arlix Beren, and his son Prince Balis Beren, don't even recognize Vinne as they board the First Order ship.

Any sudden move and their lives would end.

The planet was surrounded and there was no promise any of them would make it home alive.

King Arlix sees the General, the famed Knight of Ren, and... a woman? Standing beside the General.

Her uniform wasn't like any of the other Captains or Majors on the bridge. It was more, as if she was putting her status on display.

Her head was held high and her eyes were full of... Anger? At who?

General Hux's wife, then. he reasons. Women tend to be angry when brought somewhere they don't want to be.

All instructions are foregone as Hux demands King Arlix's support to the First Order, or the planet would fall under First Order jurisdiction. They also asked for the mining locations of the kyber crystals, to save time and to "not destroy the planet" looking for them.

The King is outraged at the demands. He called this meeting and he should be the one to negotiate the terms.

The woman has begun pacing across the bridge and to the stars above, he wishes her shoes would stop clicking on the floor.

He's come to realize he dislikes the color of her hair.

King Arlix announces he doesn't harbor any kyber crystals of any sort, and any rumors of smuggling are a lie.

The woman stops walking.

Armitage turns to her and Kylo asks him to repeat himself. The King does so.

"He's lying." she whispers to Armitage, but loud enough for those closest to hear. But Armitage and the other high ranking officials already knew this.

King Arlix and Prince Balis are outraged by this point.

"Who is this woman to doubt the word of a king?"

"Your daughter." Kylo Ren clips, and the words sink deeper than any blade could.

Arlix finally recognizes her. But he sees her differences more than ever.

This girl didn't lower her head at her gaze, but met his eyes. She didn't curl into herself, her posture screamed dominance. She didn't hide, she demanded to be acknowledged.

General Hux spoke to a hologram that had appeared before them. The chrome trooper, Captain Phasma, has announced that the legions had already gotten all kyber crystals needed off the planet, thanks to Vinne's information. They were returning to the ship.

Arlix looked at his daughter with all the hate he could muster.

Balis looked as if he had never seen her before.

King Arlix and Prince Balis are returned to their planet in shame, but it isn't long before that small pile of matchsticks becomes the testing demonstration of StarKiller Base's potential.

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HOLY S***, I have not written fanfiction in years. I know it sucks, don’t hurt me please. *dives under table*

Be sure to follow this blog for any and all updates! *dodges knives*

#general hux #armitage hux #star wars #kylo ren #general hux x oc #starkiller base #the uncrowned queen #ben solo #the force awakens #im rewriting this whole fucking series #i promise you that

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aph1wonderland · 3 years

Text

Achilles Come Down(Songfic)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_V76Dm42bY

(by Gangs Of Youths) Happy late birthday Kay {1/11}]

Achilles

Achilles come down, won't you

Get up off

Get up off the roof?

She heard stories, how people get visions blessed by archons, when they know they have lost something dear to them. It's selfish for her to claim she has so much, but how can she bare face with the honorless daughter who selfishly granted a wish to her desperate mother? To be given freedom, but at what cost? The obedient daughter can no longer learn because her household refused her to excel in her gifts they sold her.

You're scaring us

And all of us

Some of us love you

Achilles, it's not much but there's proof

She could only acknowledge the sacrifices of her mother’s paranoia and insanity driving her to act out of her driven mind. Forced to push her first daughter gifted to leave the nest before the danger of a curse to seal her away. What a feeling she learned when fought as a child, not entirely understanding why her fragile and injured mother could dare teach her violent arts of breaking bones. No matter what she could with the trait passed down to obey like she did, the inhuman strength was supposed to be her brother’s. Was she supposed to be a man, or play a coward of a woman like she was last time she saw her.

You crazy assed cosmonaut

Remember your virtue

Redemption lies plainly in truth

Perhaps it was insane to teach her child to fight and out of turn for her to act this way on the day she was supposed to depart away to Fontaine. To run, a virtue truly from her heart, passion but plainly she didn’t know how to fly by herself if she nested warmly alone in her noble home. But maybe it was a better hesitation than she thought distracted by the differences of Liyue Harbor the sounds, the unknown to the factors of cultures shifted from them and herself.

Just humour us

Achilles

Achilles come down

Won't you get up off

Get up off the roof

She was bringing too much attention to herself. A distraction to few of the many bustling crowds, it did not help if she was holding her vision from Inazuma. The crafted origin of her homelands if only it was possible to cover it up, but she cannot do anything to god blessed item. Afraid to break such a glorified object that could possibly bring her even more fear brought among her. She could not say much but the expensive silks of her layers of clothing on her and mora tied as the side of her sash. Perhaps this was a better choice to exchange for more temporary stability.

Achilles

Achilles come down, won't you

Get up off

Get up off the roof?

Parting for her meticulous layers, as if she felt bare to foreign weather. It was an uncommonly shifted need to adapt. To live is to survive the world that felt dangerous in the as if shores she arrived at the port, soaking her soles. As the hydro element felt attuned as she gazed over it, perhaps she mistaken it for cryo for a few seconds. The newly acquired clothing felt perhaps embarrassing to be seen wearing it, but it must be done. Exposing skin could throw them off of her, needing eyes to attend too afforded a pair of glasses to wear. No longer blinded and blurred by the setback.

The self is not so weightless

Nor whole and unbroken

Remember the pact of our youth

She planned back to see the village of her mother, in which she thought would be best to rely on them for a settlement. As quick she wanted to live again, the feeling of the forest life once again she’ll dearly make it possible to work away her favor and honor. The face of her selfish wish from her mother’s demands, for once she’ll do her justice in living in the truth then the lie. She was the selfish one in the end to drink the god’s gift in the journey of living outside the box.

Where you go

I'm going

So jump and I'm jumping

Since there is no me without you

The hardest part was truly talking to the leader of the community of Qingce Village. Basic knowledge of contract is the word of the old in Liyue, for that it must be fair to do so as a way to be accepted. As long as she can work what she can there’ll be no one to stop her from becoming something unexpected. Perhaps if she’ll survive the jump she’s making herself take, someday she’ll see her mother smile once more. One day she will not need to hear rumors of the walls that could speak about her siblings and the warmth of the sun not the gaze of cold expectations.

Soldier on

Achilles

Achilles come down

Won't you get up off

Get up off the roof?

As if her eyes hesitated at the time she heard from the old woman, she warmly laughed off her noble character she played. She felt warm, her own layer of her mask cracking and her face wrinkling in confusion. Perhaps one day she’ll understand why she left, accepted into the community and warm tears to the location to her new home. Gazing at the moon and the stars among the indigo sky, on the roof. Feeling alone at the end of the ledge wondering why does she feel this sadness?

Loathe the way they light candles in Rome

But love the sweet air of the votives

Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone

Engage with the pain as a motive

It had been an additional two years she had hesitated a few times to work her way into the community once again, when the old woman told her to visit the night of the lantern festival and live a bit. Scolding her for something as tedious as working too much for others and not herself. She wishes to stay, tending her home, to the children in the village. Listen over to the elderly and middle aged for things to do, when she returns from the commissions in the early morning before. She could not see herself anymore as a woman who could stand sitting looking beautiful in wealth in silken in silence without someone or a book in hand. Yet here she is fidgeting to do something in Liyue Harbor, gazing at the port away from the festivity waiting for it to end. Hands shaking over the candle lights, flashing sounds of fireworks behind her.

Today of all days

See

Leaning against the stone fencing far away from the peaceful cold tones wondering about Inazuma. Her 2nd younger sister, Kaori was already sent to Fontaine after her brother 3rd youngest Daichi was prepared. Who knows where, but hope the best for him. That his wife would not stop him from doing what he loved in the end. Becoming an alchemist and a doctor, something she felt taken from her life however perhaps this is the exchange of her natural build taking away his inhuman strength. She loved every single child born in that house. Chie, she has yet to entirely meet, but she must have been close to a mischievous child she was when she was younger running in the fields. Last time she remembered from her nanny telling her before sending her off from the interception of her mother that week she fled.

How the most dangerous thing is to love

How you will heal and you'll rise above

Thinking about it now she was alone on the side of this world, the chills returned. It felt suffocating and an uncomfortable delusion to find herself drowning in the sea of doubt. The constellation of her verse was a siren, or a mermaid. They long and lost their dreams and here she was living the dream not of hers but someone else's, what could she say now but choke back the mourning not of death but the new life given to her. Perhaps she’ll love the gods for this life for hers, the opportunities to breath in the beauty of Liyue. Live for the virtues of Justice, but for now she shall wait for the day to be taken back home, not alone but with others in strength.

Achilles

Jump now

You are absent of cause

Or excuse

She flinched when she turned to look to the side to see a tall man, he was beautiful. Awed at the sight of the strangely encapsulating man who was glowing entrancingly from the lights and the moon as well. Mostly his vision of his eyes from the mid ranged distance, she panicked once again when he caught her staring. Flustered in beyond her life had she met a man who made her feel so out of place. He was confused why she suddenly looked away, “Miss? Perhaps you are a traveler? Considering I have yet to see you before in this country? Have finished experiencing the festival in Liyue?” She froze, right the festival that is taking place right now. Was she dreading for so long to not realize the time?

So self-indulgent

And self-referential

No audience could ever want you

One thing is for sure she was embarrassed herself once again, no way to correct the fact she had nothing to tell this man to answer that. “Perhaps you are asking for an introduction from a stranger like myself, but it does not seem fair if you do not return the favor first. In all honesty I did not partake in the event, I tend to busy myself too much in working around Liyue as an Adventurer from the guild. Well I don’t know how to experience these events. It’s best for me not to attend and perhaps ruin it all. Good night Sir.” She shouldn’t bother this man at all, leaving was the only thing on her mind.

You crave the applause

Yet hate the attention

Then miss it, your act is a ruse

“Would it be possible for me to guide you through the festival? Of course I am Zhongli of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, a consultant, may I ask for the name of your Miss?” She stopped, “I would not mind if you were to show me the knowledge of yours of your beloved Liyue. I am Kay of Haru, please do not mind my hesitancy and not honor among me to be called anything as Miss. Kay is enough for me to be called in such a fluency.” Returning a feeble gaze up to him, taking him as her guide for that night to return alive that day.

It is empty, Achilles

So end it all now

It's a pointless resistance

For you

Achilles

Just put down the bottle

Don't listen to what you've consumed

Open to opportunities and refreshed and ready to work her life for another day to look for Mister Zhongli had inspired her to take on learning the world the best she can starting with Liyue. From the whole trip listening to him speak the loveliest tunes of a tone, enchanted possibly. Yet she began to notice how little time she spent on her commissions in which she decided to ask Katherine in a few hours for more things to do. In which she began to enjoy the thrill of control she realized of her life envirgated by the thought itself grew her confidence and growth in her skills. Passing 5 years had affected her bond with Mister Zhongli to increase in size on her personal affections to his personal side of feelings towards simple things in life. Someone who could answer her curiosities in the best way they could and confide, not once thought about leaving the country of Liyue.

It's chaos, confusion

And wholly unworthy

Of feeding and it's wholly untrue

Yet with few time he found her as often as he could in Liyue in finding her in returning to Katherine filing in the many commissions built as she carried on her shoulders. He gave her glaze lilies on her birthday each year, not sure how he knew, but perhaps the old woman told him. Cooking was one her specialties in which she began collecting recipes after trying to find a way to return back to Mister Zhongli to acknowledge his distaste in seafood as a reminder. Perhaps he was too addicting to let go, however was that alright to call him something close to a friend. Would that be alright with him?

You may feel no purpose

Nor a point for existing

It's all just conjecture and gloom

Yet she would miss him as much as she thought when Childe took on his arrival. Perhaps the fact alone that she took on now is the gnawing hunger, she was childish to share a desire of hers with him. Considering the truth, he always found her and never the other way around. She did not see him that much anymore, feeling like a distant memory that returns every week he does. Never once complained for the fact she enjoyed his company, for the returning fact, she was lonely.

And there may not be meaning

So find one and seize it

Do not waste your self on this roof

Perhaps for once a longing will not leave her and let her stay on the roof of her home given to her and the children of those who breathed in this village. The moon was always lucky to know it was never alone, possibilities of her insecurities to eat her. Was she not worthy to know the fact she is not considered in the spotlight, but entirely on being known? Still he gave her glaze lilies on her birthday.

Hear those bells ring deep in the soul

Chiming away for a moment

Feel your breath course frankly below

See life as a worthy opponent

Driven to bite back the petty thieves in Liyue with her strength reporting to the adventurer’s guild and stealing treasures and effort from others. She did not like them, she made sure to take note of base locations from each leader she fought, monsters she battled and planned meticulously in a clean beat down. Same old same old, spending Mora on things she could think of. To one she could tend to a bird; Kyu a loving bird with a blank expression but a silent affectionate one in the end of it all, who carries packages and wordless secrets of her loneliness. Perhaps her own feelings she can express is what tearing her apart over and over again. Life was hers to learn more of as her commissions made her wander to Monstadt’s region but never once thought about entering into the city of freedom.

Today of all days

See

How the most dangerous thing is to love

How you will heal and you'll rise above

Crowned by an overture bold and beyond

Ah, it's more courageous to overcome

She faced Childe in a confrontation when Mister Zhongli brought him over for dinner that week at her home. Why did it take a year for her to finally meet Childe, Mister Zhongli? She frowned, but bonded slowly with Childe, he was pretty sketchy around her, but nonetheless she wasn’t alone if Childe actually had something to confide with family. Considering they had similar visions from the same values of Justice but different archons blessed. He gave white lies with reason, sometimes it was cruel to keep to himself. While Kay herself was one who hesitates but nevertheless her strength is for the good reasons that are proven. Yet even the harder things get she won’t give in so easily she rather die fighting for things that are right, failing to do so does not mean she’ll stop. The moment she’ll stop if she dies breathing blood. Perhaps that’s why she talks with him often, even that does not satisfy her.

You want the acclaim

The mother of mothers (it's not worth it Achilles)

More poignant than fame

Or the taste of another (don't listen Achilles)

But be real and just jump

You dense motherf*cker (you're worth more, Achilles)

You will not be more

Than a rat in the gutter (so much more than a rat)

You want my opinion (no one asked your opinion)

My opinion you've got

You asked for my counsel (no one asked for your thoughts)

I gave you my thoughts

Be done with this now

And jump off the roof

Can you hear me Achilles?

Mister Zhongli lowered his visits to her compared to Childe who was able to find him whenever he needed to talk to him. However another person, the traveler, arrived in Liyue a few weeks ago. However Mister Zhongli had briefly mentioned her if they needed any assistance. Not sure how to feel if he was using her, unsure if their bond would be truly mended and here she was letting him into her own heart every time he came. Why does she hesitate when it comes to him? Someone who could destroy all her defenses and weaken her to the point she doesn’t help but stutter. She’s not sure if Mister Zhongli realizes as she doesn’t entirely, she is hurting. She is selfish to continue this cycle she let herself eat till he leaves her. This is not entirely healthy, she’s disgusted to look how encapsulated when it comes to him. Perhaps it’s better to give up before it ruins her, she thought. She’s selfish to think he would see her again. Does this mean she’s drowning by the sea with no shores for her to rely on.

I'm talking to you

Achilles come down

“Kay.” She stood by the cliffs and turned around to see Mister Zhongli with the Traveler. She is confused yet a bit sad by her own thoughts of self pity. “Mister Zhongli. It’s been too long hasn’t it?” The Traveler worriedly looked in between them. “Hello dear Traveler, I hope you’ve been well, I hope I did well to help you in Liyue.” She ignored the fact Zhongli was about to respond to her, but ended letting him continue since the Traveler nudged him to do so. “I apologize, if I left you too much in the dark. Perhaps we could mend for a few moments with a story to tell. I will confess the fact I was not honest in my reasons for disappearing too much.” Her eyes conflicted, whether or not he was truly speaking his mind, but knowing him for years regardless of his disappearance. She sighs, bitterly but allowing his invitation to tell about the salt goddess that late evening.

Throw yourself into the unknown

With pace and a fury defiant

Clothe yourself in beauty untold

And see life as a means to a triumph

Today of all days

See

One thing she could even do was not judge him, but comfort him as a human like she was born to do. Sure she was angry, but nothing could compare over the immortal and emotional wounds that cut deeply over time and left a swollen temperament of a situation. She cannot help but relate once again leaving her fragile over the fact she wasn’t smart enough to understand him, but connect through the empathic nature she was. In the end she knew she'd join the Traveler to Inazuma to finish her parting justice for her country. Perhaps one day she’ll understand to feel more, if they joined them. Perhaps she’ll tell people in Liyue about her choice in following the Traveler.

How the most dangerous thing is to love

How you will heal and you'll rise above

Crowned by an overture bold and beyond

Ah, it's more courageous to overcome

She loved this man to the end of her aging life, even if he would not take it for granted compared to her existence. After following her beloved traveler to the end of their journey, healing her country she must take over duties as next head with the revived honor of her clan. She realizes Mister Zhongli will wait for her, not the reason she wants to believe. In which she cannot return the sentiment that he plans to give back in the end. That is not the love she needed from him, nor can force it. For that she will settle for another, her children will remember the age or gods in her place. She will heal and forgive him over and over again. For she will love him to not feel forgotten for eternity. Perhaps he was right to compare her to glaze lilies on her birthdays.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oc #oc #songfic #angst #zhongli #the traveler #mc #oof #why did i take 6 hours #cause i started fking crying and shit #happy late birthday #sduhfkjvsiodjk

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