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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 3 years

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After that gorgeous sequel rant, would you be willing to share your thoughts on reylo?

Ugh.

Once again, that is the most succinct, easiest, answer I can supply. But it's so short, and that just won't do.

I mentioned in a recent post that Dramione comes in a myriad of disguises. Every fandom usually has at least one Dramione ship, you can usually guess which characters the ship will consist of, and while you might not be able to articulate exactly what about it makes it so damn similar to Dramione you will recognize it on sight.

Usually, to me, a Dramione ship features a strong, independent, female lead who may be varying levels of sexually empowered, varying levels of intelligent (Hermione loves to tell us how smart she is but it's not the heart of the ship), is strong, courageous, and noble who depending on the story du jour might slide into depravity. The real give away is her love interest, always a man, usually a young man of comparable age, who has the bad boy appeal that's not too bad boy where he often is redeemed to the good side for 'reasons' in the course of the story.

Reylo is such a Dramione pairing.

You don't believe me? Look at the authors who write it, I haven't done this too often myself, but I guarantee you that a not small majority of them will either write Draco/Hermione or will have it all over their favorites and bookmarks. It's the same damn pairing.

But worse.

Because Kylo-Ren and Rey aren't really characters.

"Whoa, hold up!", you say, "That's just slander and uncalled for!" Well, change my mind. Rey Palpatine and Kylo-Ren are a series of character tropes and archetypes thrown to us by Disney screaming "LOVE MY CHARACTERS".

Rey is our noble, very Luke like, hero who is a scrappy desert rat with overwhelming mystical powers only acknowledged when the movies feel like acknowledging them (guys, admit Rey kicked Kylo-Ren's ass every time they fought with 0 training, come on, it's not hard).

However, there is nothing underneath her surface. Her hero worship of the resistance feels dull and given to her because it's expected. Of course Rey likes the resistance! The resistance is great! Sign her up! Rey has been living in the desert at the edge of nowhere for presumably 15 years, I'm shocked she's even heard of the new republic let alone the resistance. Despite essentially starving and only having a home that's a broken down old fighter, Rey saves a random droid. We're not really given a compelling reason of why she would do this, that she has a deep respect for droids/is horrified by their use, really really really hates the random trader she sells things to, or really really really hates the empire (if she even realizes it's them behind the bounty). She does it just so that a) the plot keeps moving b) to show Rey is... noble... I guess?

Remember that even Luke (who I have some problems with as a character) started his journey with more backstory and personality than this. Luke loved the empire and desperately wanted to become a pilot. He was very put out that his aunt and uncle kept saying, "Uh, no, bad idea." Luke was ready to skip town and sign on up for flight academy, he just got distracted by pretty women, er, his sister.

So, Rey is never given a compelling reason to do any of the things she does in the series. Just vague feelings of hero worship. And, of course, the drama over her parents. Just... I feel like Disney took out a hat, put a bunch of pieces of paper with words on them, and drew out the one that said "orphan angst about parents" and said "See, now she's conflicted! What a character!"

So yeah, Rey is your cardboard generic hero who is so generic she's not even a person. She has no hopes, no dreams, no fears, just these vague things we're told as an audience she cares about but never shown in any legitimate manner. Rey likes the resistance and rando droids, Rey imprints on Han Solo as the father she never had, Rey has this thing about her parents, Rey is attracted to Kylo Ren.

And that last one, oh boy that last one. It sold me less on the attraction to Kylo Ren than... oh... I don't know... Palpatine's secret Sith planet of doom. I mean, we all saw it coming, The Last Jedi it was very clear where that was going and then Abrams went for it even harder. But what we had was a series of skype conversations where Rey went from "Gr, you killed my pseudo father!" and Kylo-Ren responding, "Yeah, well he was my real father AND HE WAS SO MEAN" to "Oh Ben, I will fly to you through space and we shall save the galaxy together!"

I am given no reason to believe Rey's change of heart. Han Solo's death just suddenly... doesn't really mean much to her anymore (the man was murdered by his son in cold blood so that his son could feel better about himself). She believes Ben Solo is good now because Luke is a dick (never mind that, no matter what a dick Luke is, Ben Solo still murdered dozens of children and then went on to gleefully massacre his way through the galaxy). We're told there's a Force Dyad, which is um... not this thing the writer's made up because they were too lazy to convince me that Kylo-Ren and Rey would end up together in any organic way.

So, yeah, why does Rey like Kylo-Ren? Because the Force told her too? Because it was somehow all Snoke's fault in a way that's never properly described? (Indeed despite us spending quite a bit of time on Kylo-Ren's decision to remain Kylo-Ren being a very internalized thing) Because we saw him shirtless in yoga pants this one time?

It's bad when that last is actually the most legitimate reason I can think of out of the whole lot.

Now let's go to Kylo-Ren. If Rey is boring and nonsensical then Kylo-Ren is a dumpster fire and non-sensical. The guy reminds me a lot of Commodus from the film "Gladiator", the man is cowardly, vile, and murders his father in despair that his father never will be capable of loving him/passes him over for the throne. Kylo-Ren's murder of Han Solo is extremely similar to the murder of Marcus Aurelius in "Gladiator". Han Solo is a flawed father, trying to make his peace with his son, who approaches him unarmed and Kylo-Ren decides to murder him in order to solidify his place in the dark side.

Only, the films never acknowledge that every action Kylo-Ren takes is horrifying.

We're told "oh, Kylo-Ren exists because evil Snoke corrupted him" but also shown repeatedly that Kylo-Ren chooses the darkest path again and again and again. He "struggles with the light" but I don't see it. His opening scene, he has massacred a village and is torturing a man for information (this is presumably a daily routine for him). In the same film he later tortures Rey for information. He serves on a Death Star which wipes out billions in an instant. He murders his father to feel good about himself. He dresses as a man who was reviled and feared throughout the galaxy, a man who murdered countless children, and a man who dressed the way he did because he was barely hanging onto life, because Kylo-Ren thinks it makes him look like a badass. Think about it, this is like if a fully abled Kylo-Ren is wheeling around in a wheel chair, perfectly capable of walking, because he thinks that Professor X is so cool. Now, replace Professor X with Hitler, this is what the movies gave us.

Yet, the films seem to take it for granted that Kylo-Ren is a redeemable character. He's just lost and misguided, he's really struggling with the light and dark side! They don't just tell us this over and over again (which they do) but also just assume we know it.

And base the entire Reylo pairing off of it. Reylo believed Kylo-Ren could be redeemed, they battle Snoke together, then Kylo-Ren stabs her in the back and continues the assault on the Resistance and asks her to be his Dark Queen (TM). Reylo is shocked and appalled, I'm just wondering what movie she thought she was watching, because that was coming a mile away.

Later, when Kylo-Ren is redeemed, we're never given a reason why it happens. Leia just gives him a nagging, one word, phone call and then Han Solo shows up to go, "Ben, are you going to do the right thing?" and Ben goes, "Mumble, grumble, fine" because there's only an hour left in the last film.

Kylo-Ren, like Rey, is the writers' desperate attempt to create a compelling anti-hero with all the anti-hero sauce we love. They just won't admit they made an overgrown genocidal toddler.

Wow, this turned into why I hate both Rey and Kylo Ren, but, uh, back to the ship. Basically, the films give me 0 reason to ever believe it, and even if I wanted to, even if I said "Alright brain, let's make these characters real people for once", I still wouldn't like it. Because the ship itself is just as flat as the characters. It's spicy but not too spicy bad boy gets together with strong female lead.

I know a lot of people enjoy this, and I won't say it's any less legitimate than any of the weirdness I ship, but I'm not one of them. And the whole thing just makes me go "ugh".

#ask #anon #anti reylo #anti kylo ren #anti rey #anti star wars sequels

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justforbooks · 2 years

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Top 10 novels set in villages

What comes to mind when you think of a village, no matter where in the world it’s located? Perhaps a place where everyone knows everyone else’s business? A place that is small enough to let an eccentric or two stand out, insular enough for outsiders to be noticed and not necessarily welcomed. A place that has its own customs and rituals and pecking order. Or one with a strong and positive sense of community?

The best novels with a village at their heart will play with our assumptions about village life and not make even the most gossipy old woman a cliche. Here are some of my favourites.

1. Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe Achebe writes his characters, no matter how reprehensible, without judgment – letting the reader decide. Though really there is no decision to make: Okonkwo, the greatest wrestler across nine villages in Nigeria in the 1890s, is a man who regularly mistreats his wives and children, but when a white man comes on a bicycle and many more follow, they are even more brutal. Though the women in this novel are not the main characters, their daily duties, together with the village rituals, will keep you captivated.

2. Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead by Barbara Comyns This weird and uncomfortable novel starts with a flood where the ducks come swimming in through drawing-room windows of the Willoweed family’s house. And so it continues with everything slightly off-balance. This English village in 1911 is full of eccentrics, many of whom are going mad from a strange epidemic. Like the rest of Comyns’ novels, it has a brilliantly naive voice and plenty of black humour.

3. One Moonlit Night by Caradog Prichard (Un Nos Ola Leuad, translated by Philip Mitchell) This is Welsh village life with all its death, desertion, gossip, madness and joy. Lyrical and sometimes mystical, its unnamed narrator goes out one moonlit night and remembers his past. He faces terrible losses, and he eats many slices of bread and butter. The book is full of wonderful names: Bob Milk Cart, Little Owen the Coal, and the oxymoronic Mrs Jones the New Policeman. The end is shadowy and shocking. This is one of the best novels you might never have heard of.

4. Lanny by Max Porter Porter takes those village voices and plays with them. He doesn’t just have them speak in broken sentences, but he messes with them on the page, creating an overlapping chorus. Set in a contemporary English village, we see that not much has changed: there’s still madness and joy, superstition, and mystery. Though Porter is loose with his rhythm and structure, at this novel’s centre there is an utterly propulsive story of a child’s disappearance and a village’s reaction.

5. Murder at the Vicarage by Agatha Christie While this is the first Miss Marple novel, the investigation of the murder is actually led by the vicar. There’s lots of English village life from the 1920s to enjoy (or be horrified by): “the poor”, “the village cats” (old gossiping women), and tennis-playing girls. Of course, it is the witty spinster who declares that there are seven suspects in St Mary Mead, and who solves the crime while the vicar and the police lag several steps behind.

6. We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson Merricat, the narrator of this deliciously disturbing novel, might be one of the biggest village oddballs in fiction. She lives with her agoraphobic sister and uncle in a large house, after the rest of their family have been murdered. From inside Merricat’s head we are shocked by the villagers’ cruelty, aghast when the village children sing nasty rhymes, and terrified when the villagers arrive in a frenzied mob at the sisters’ house. These are villagers at their darkest and because we can’t look away, Jackson makes us culpable. It’s disturbing and gothic and wonderful.

7. Galore by Michael Crummey In the early 1700s, a whale is washed ashore on a Newfoundland beach, and the local villagers cut it up for food and oil. When they slit the belly open, a man slithers out. Mute, pale, and forever stinking of fish (presumably suffering from trimethylaminuria), Judah starts this saga that spans two centuries of hard life. There are so many children, grandchildren, marriages and houses that it is best to let it wash over you in a wonderful jumble and enjoy the sweeping story, only stopping to focus on strange details like the drunkard who keeps a goat in her house for company, a chick born with four legs, and babies who are passed through the branches of a particular tree.

8. The Western Wind by Samantha Harvey This is a mystery set in the village of Oakham in Somerset in the 15th century. The village priest, John Reve, is tasked by the Dean to investigate how a man fell into the local river – a river that this village is too humble to even manage to build a bridge over. One by one, we meet the villagers as they come to Reve for confession, and the novel cleverly moves back in time over the previous four days. Reve is a fascinating man, full of contradictory characteristics that make him very real.

9. Harvest by Jim Crace Most likely set in a similar period to The Western Wind, Harvest somehow manages to be timeless. It’s the week following the harvest and this unnamed feudal English village continues to follow its centuries-old rites and rhythms. But two columns of smoke are seen, and when three strangers appear, it is clear that change is coming. The story is narrated by outsider, Walter Thirsk, which gives us an interesting perspective on village life. There are immersive and evocative descriptions of nature, and a plot that surprises.

10. Euphoria by Lily King Three anthropologists meet by chance and spend time together studying native tribes in New Guinea. While professionally they come up with “the grid” as a way of explaining cultures and people, personally they create havoc – not only among the Tam, an artistic and female-led tribe, but also among themselves. Nell is inspired by the anthropologist Margaret Mead, and though her methods of study might be outdated now, it is fascinating to see the effect she and the others have on the villagers they purport to only be observing.

Photo above: Lots to enjoy … Geraldine McEwan (far right) as Miss Marple in the 2004 ITV adaptation of Murder at the Vicarage.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS

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emiruem · 3 years

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I was telling this hitsukarin AU to Abby, but then I realized that it seemed to have become just a mountain of text, although at the beginning I was just explaining the concept. I'm not a writer and I have big problems with language, but I wanted to tell this story ahhabahahah.

An adult Karin, who became a member of the women's football team of the Japanese national team, therefore, often tours to different countries.

She hadn't seen Toshiro since high school, when he helped her protect the city from the empty ones when Ichigo lost his strength. She was in love with him ( but of course they both never realized that their feelings were mutual)

After Toshiro left, then she decided that she would forget these feelings and move on with her life. Then she started dating one of her childhood friends, they studied together and he was in love with her for a long time too.... they had a long relationship

One day during the football cup, which was held in Korea, Karin realizes that she is pregnant with her boyfriend's child. For this reason, she decides to skip the season and return to Karakura.

At the same time, General Shunsui decides that it is time for the soul society to change in order to lag so far behind the human world, but for now this is only his initiative and he needs to discuss a lot of things with the council 46 later, so he sends captains who have lived in the human world for some time ( captains-vayzards and Toshiro) to prepare reports on the human world, which will allow the general to convince the council 46.

Karin returns to Karakura and when she comes home, she realizes that her boyfriend is cheating on her with some other girl while she is away for work.

and...karin is hysterical from the fact that the person with whom she lived for so long betrayed her, and she is also pregnant from him and does not know what to do, she has already told yuzu about the pregnancy and is already afraid that ichigo and her father will think about all this. She has nowhere to go because she absolutely will not return to this guy in their shared apartment so she returns to the kurosaki house where there is no one.

Ishshin went to Naruki for a medical samet, Yuzu lives with Jzinta in another place and Karin does not want to bother them, Ichigo and Rukia are now in the soul society.She simply locks herself in "her former room" and succumbs to hysteria and apathy.

Her ex-boyfriend calls her constantly, but she does not receive these calls because she does not want to hear anything from him.

She hears the doorbell ring and thinks that most likely it was he who came. Therefore, she loudly shouts "get out, I'm even sick of seeing your face" through the door.

In response, she hears Toshiro's voice: "I knew that so much time had passed and you wouldn't want to see me"

she is surprised to understand who exactly came.... in even greater hysteria, she slowly opens the door looks into toshiro's face, not understanding what is happening at all

He sees her and understands that everything in her life is "WELL, NOT OKAY AT ALL" his feelings, which have only grown and grown so much over the years that he came to see her right after he received his gigai, were greatly inflamed in his chest from anger at something that caused her such obvious mental harm.

She let him into the house because she just couldn't do it any other way. she told him well, in general, everything that happened because she just couldn't do it any other way. She needed to tell at least someone this, he just listened to her and she knew that he would not condemn her for her situation and story.

She end with the questions " what should I do now, Toshiro ? This child, what should I do with him?

* a moment of emotional tension*

Toshiro comes up to her and hugs her , he says that since he is here now, he can't leave it as it is, he will help her in everything that will be in his power.

He almost says, " I can stay and be close to you and this child". He already loves Karin and knows that he will love the child that will be born to her. In addition, his mission is very long and he can afford to stay close to her for at least the next 10 years in the most difficult period. Of course he has nothing in this world and he will have to try very hard to have a child and take care of Karin.

Karin understands exactly what Toshiro means and cannot reject him... she is afraid of being left alone and losing her first love again, his embrace is warm and his presence really gives her confidence that everything will be fine with her and her child.

Toshiro calms Karin and gives her a sense of security and tenderness that she has been missing for a long time in past relationships.

She is already beginning to believe that she will live quite happily with Toshiro , who told her about his mission and completely showed his true feelings for her.

That guy also appears soon, but Toshiro will send him away with the phrase " you are not worthy of being the father of the child that Karin will give birth to"

it even comes to a fight....but what is the point of a person fighting with a trained shinigami and everything is fine BUT

one day, Toshiro wakes up in their already new rented apartment from a scream

Karin, screaming in pain, wakes him up and says that she urgently needs a doctor, Toshiro is horrified to see blood flowing down her legs. Terrified, he still calls an ambulance and tries to use therapeutic kido to help Karin

Karin still loses consciousness and is admitted to the Isida's hospital. Genicologists and obstetricians diagnose "miscarriage provoked by a strong nervous and hormonal breakdown" while there was also a " threat of death of a woman in labor"

Toshiro can only wait at the intensive care unit with a stony face, but internally realizing that now most likely there is going on in horror that now he can lose both Karin and their child, he just sits silently completely in shock

Abby s point:(totes unrelated note but what if she dies but he can't go back to soul society because of his mission, by the time he goes back to ss, she's already with family, without any memory of her living days anyway )

He no longer even believes that everything will end well, because he is primarily a shinigami and understands when people are on the edge of life and death.

When the operation was just over and Karin was still unconscious. The obstetrician recognized Toshiro as the father of the child and laid out all the information about the condition of Karin and her fetus to him

Toshiro, who no longer hoped for anything at all, realized that the worst had happened on the face of the obstetrician. Therefore when he was informed that Karin was still alive his eyes were already ready to shed a few tears of happiness

but this was replaced by frustration when the obstetrician said about the death of the fetus. The doctors reassured him saying that judging by the tests and Karin's general condition, she will be able to have children later when her body recovers

but toshiro silently realized what a blow it would be for Karin who found it difficult to love this child and as soon as she love him she immediately lost him

the obstetricians told him to issue documents for Karin's admission to the ward and he was not there when she woke up and the doctor told her about what had happened to her

Karin felt only pain and fear for the child even more than for her own life, but when she woke up, it became a little easier for her in the hospital. She felt tired and empty. Obstetricians reported that it was not possible to save the fetus Later, doctors will say that Karin was very lucky, cuz her body was always trained and always led a healthy lifestyle.

she realizes that she has lost her child and this leads her to complete emotional burnout. When Toshiro walks into her hospital room and sees her awake, she slowly turns her head in his direction and says softly: "I lost him"

"Yes, I know, and I'm sorry I was completely useless," Toshiro takes her hand,his facial expression twists and he looks away.

Karin does not react in any way she looks into empty space

......

Toshiro understands that she will need a lot of time, so he decides that he will give her as much as he can give and he will not leave her as long as he can be near in this world.

#hitsukarin #bleach #toshiro hitsugaya #kurosaki karin #hitsugaya toushirou #sorry i'm not a writer #maybe someday I will draw something on this au #ahahahahahahah

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isabelleashmore · 3 years

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Invisible Moonlight: Padmé Amidala/Sabé for @star-wars-wlweek

Padmé winged easily through the steps, whisking Sabé along with her, and for a moment, they were waltzing in their nightgowns through the ballroom of Theed Palace, Sabé’s touch electric at the small of her back. It was only on her planet that petticoats and ballgowns, stiff and unforgiving on the bodies of Imperials, turned beautiful, their hems flaring vibrantly over the floor with their soft, silken sighs.

It was only in Sabé’s arms, dancing through her memories of Naboo, that Padmé became weightless.

(Or, Padmé and Sabé have a romantic night to themselves following the rise of the Empire.)

Rating: Teen

@star-wars-wlweek

Read here or on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33233989

Invisible Moonlight

“Were you surprised?”

Sabé whispered the question as if they were kids at a sleepover, scared to be caught out of bed after lights-out. They essentially were, Padmé reflected, only this time, it was being caught in bed that would get them in trouble. She tried and failed to banish that image from her mind: palace guards breaking down the door to her and Sabé’s hidden bedroom, finding them tangled up in the sheets and in each other. A humiliating arrest, after which they would be hauled to the throne room and tossed at the feet of a furious Emperor Vader. He’d throw his jealous little tantrum right then and there, which would subside only after he’d locked away his wife and executed her lover, all without ever addressing the women who frequented his room each night. The sparks of resistance that she and Sabé had so painstakingly kindled would be snuffed out; Luke and Leia—well, thank the gods that they were Anakin’s, too, because envisioning her children at risk, especially as a byproduct of her own actions, squeezed the air from Padmé’s lungs faster than if she’d been chucked off a skyscraper—

Sabé curled an arm around her waist, breaking her free from her ruminations. Padmé’s lips twitched into a fragile smile. Sabé’s every touch felt like a lullaby, like a murmured, “I’m here.” They had taken all the necessary precautions, she reminded herself: Dormé was covering for them and Anakin was spending the night with his own mistress. Not that Padmé thought of Sabé as her mistress. If anything, she liked to imagine that she was her girlfriend, and sometimes even indulged in fantasies of one day calling Sabé her wife.

Emboldened by the dream kneaded into that word—wife—Padmé giggled and touched her nose to Sabé’s. “Was I surprised by what?”

“Realizing that you were attracted to me. Were you surprised?” Sabé shimmied coyly out of Padmé’s grasp; her sultry, side-eyed gaze was enough to send tingles down Padmé’s arms. She found herself admiring Sabé’s lip gloss under the muted, golden light, the way it drew attention to the delicate purse of her lips, and thinking about how, whenever she was deep in thought, those lips would fall open just slightly, like a rosebud puckering into bloom…

It took Padmé much too long to focus on the question. She inhaled and blew out a slow stream of air, hoping Sabé hadn’t noticed. “Yes,” she hedged, “and no. I mean, there were some things about us that finally made sense. Like back when we were girls, and I got jealous when Harli Jafan started flirting with you—”

“You did?”

A blush stole into Padmé’s cheeks at Sabé’s unabashed delight. “Why else did you think I was upset about her trying to kiss you? I should have realized it earlier, but everyone around me just assumed I was only into men. Maybe I assumed it, too. Until…”—she met Sabé’s gaze from beneath her eyelashes—“until I couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

Sabé smiled and took Padmé’s hand in hers, absentmindedly tracing the lines of her palm. “If you don’t mind me asking, what made you so sure that people had those assumptions in the first place? No offense, but I can’t imagine Theed Palace being thrown into chaos over your sexuality. Yané and Saché were openly a couple, and I was out as bi before I signed on as your handmaiden.”

“It wasn’t that. I’m sure that if I made a point of coming out, everyone would have been supportive, but…” Padmé rested her head on Sabé’s shoulder, pondering how to translate her emotions into words. “My parents and sister were always asking me when I was going to bring home a boy. Maybe I started to believe that that was the ultimate goal, that liking anyone else made me somehow…less than. And then one day, Anakin happened to accompany me to my parents’ house. He was only there as my bodyguard—a Jedi one, at that!—but my whole family leapt to the assumption that he was my boyfriend. Sola and my mother were so happy—relieved, even—and…I don’t know. I told myself that none of it would matter if I could just fall for Anakin, but then I caught myself thinking, how would they have reacted if I’d brought home a girl instead?”

“I know your parents,” Sabé said. “I’m sure they would have been supportive.”

“Oh, they would have, if they had known. But I brought home you and Dormé a few times and they never assumed either one of you was my girlfriend.”

“It’s probably because you’re so feminine,” Sabé said with a hint of bitterness. “No one ever expects feminine women to be into women.”

“No one ever expects women to be into women.”

Sabé’s only response to that was to grip Padmé’s hand a little tighter.

They sat together in silence until Padmé had collected her thoughts. “I think,” she confessed, “that I was most afraid of seeing the shock on their faces. It would have felt too much like letting them down, like turning my back on a dream they’d had for me since childhood. No, more than a dream: an expectation.” She worried her lip. “I don’t know when ‘assumption’ turned into ‘expectation’, but it did, and I couldn’t bring myself to ruin it—not for them, and especially not for myself. I still don’t know of anyone in House Naberrie who isn’t heterosexual, and there was enough tension between my relatives and me as it was, what with some lingering contention over my career choice and my not-entirely-pacifist politics—and then this—!” Padmé didn’t realize she was crying until the tears were flooding down her cheeks. She clapped a hand over her mouth, just in time to muffle the sob that escaped her. “Gods, I wish I had told them—now that Anakin won’t even let me talk to them—”

“Hey, hey, hey…” Sabé stroked Padmé’s hair with her free hand, pausing only to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? We all move at our own pace. I knew pretty young, but if I’d figured it out just a little bit later, I would have had the same insecurities as you. Probably more of them, since in my case they would have been justified.”

“Stop it, Sabé. You know how I feel about you talking yourself down.”

“I know, love.” Sabé raised Padmé’s chin to drop a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth. Somehow that still ignited every nerve in Padmé’s body. “For the record, my career path was also hard for my family to accept. Being chosen as your handmaiden was an honour, of course, but my parents were just so hung up on this fantasy of me following in the family tradition, playing hallikset in the back row of some orchestra for the rest of my life.”

Padmé sighed, wiping the last of her tears on the back of her hand. “I think that’s one of the main problems on Naboo. Everyone wants their child to go into the arts, but we still need people who can run the government or fill any of the other thousands of jobs that are necessary to our planet’s survival. My father did support my engagement in politics growing up, but even he still hoped that I would ultimately pursue a career in the arts. Thankfully, once I announced to my parents that I was running for Princess of Theed, they understood that politics were my calling and stopped trying to wrangle me into an artistic pursuit. But before that, they’d tried everything: poetry, original oratory, debate, the like. My mother had desperately wanted me to be a musician, like you, but I wasn’t a standout talent at any particular instrument. At least I took all those years of dance classes—”

“No way, that doesn’t count. Everyone takes dance classes.”

Padmé shoulder-checked Sabé in mock offense. “How dare you dismiss my prodigious dance skills. I’ll have you know, I was recommended to a couple of ballet conservatories thanks to my ‘natural poise and diligence’.”

“Oh, I can believe it. I was watching you dance tonight.” Sabé’s voice had taken on a genuine, if a bit seductive note. She grinned and dropped her lips to Padmé’s ear. “You want to know a secret?”

A thrill shot down Padmé’s spine. “Yes…”

“I was jealous tonight, love. Really jealous, having to watch you dance with him in front of everyone. His hands, just…digging into your waist, as if to lay claim to you or something…” Padmé was horrified to find that the passion in her girlfriend’s voice, so hot and sensual a second ago, had suddenly been zapped dry. “Gods!” Sabé cried, sharpening and spitting the word like it was dirty. “That man is insufferable, I—I hate him!”

Padmé remained silent, rubbing the silk of her nightgown between her fingers. She had thought for a moment that this was going in a different direction, but then somehow Anakin had ruined it without even being here and—no. She refused to let the thought of him spoil her mood. Instead, she took a deep breath and examined the small, windowless bedroom that she and Sabé shared. Already a warm pulse of pride was pushing out the anger in her chest. They may have lost the bulk of their past lives to Anakin, but they had still succeeded in making this one thing their own.

Padmé’s favourite shimmer-silk robe had taken up permanent residence on the back of the desk chair, and Sabé’s hallikset case lay nestled at the foot of their bed. On the walls, they had hung every holophoto they’d rescued from Anakin’s war on the past, regardless of whether said photos were personally relevant to them. Decade-old letters from Padmé’s sister and Sabé’s brothers, penned on real arbovellum paper, were piled lovingly on the vanity; next to them, a meticulous arrangement of eyeshadow palettes and perfume bottles. What really caught her eye, though, was Sabé’s music player, its bulky form squatting somewhat obtrusively in the corner. Sabé had held a strange affection for the battered old thing since Padmé had known her, despite—or perhaps because of—her brothers’ alleged attempts on its “life” over the years.

“Sabé,” she proposed lightly, “how about a dance?”

Sabé followed her gaze to the music player, and her eyes widened in surprise. “What, right here?”

“Why not? We’ve got music and two people who know how to waltz. What more could we need?”

“Hmm…fair point.” Sabé stood up from the bed, her hips swaying just slightly as she approached the music player. Padmé felt a fresh blush heat her cheeks. “I’ve still got this recording my brother gave me a few years ago, from the orchestra he was playing with at the time.”

“Perfect.” Padmé closed her eyes just before the first strains of music wove through the air. When she opened them again, Sabé stood before her like a vision: her hair haloed by a cross-section of candlelight, her hand extended to Padmé with the palm up. “May I have this dance, my lady?” she asked in a manner so formal, they could have been at an actual ball. Padmé giggled like a lovestruck teenager and took Sabé’s hand, pulling her eagerly to the centre of the room. Their nightgowns traced the movement with a cool flutter of silk. “You may,” Padmé whispered belatedly, unable to look anywhere but into Sabé’s eyes.

She could feel the night wrapping them up in moonlight they could not see, driving them closer, closer, closer until her breasts pressed up against Sabé’s, whose open lips hung just a tantalizing breath away. Lost in the glossy expanse of her girlfriend’s pupils, mesmerized by an orchestra’s melancholic cries, Padmé let the past flood the present, transforming the world around her. She was dissolving into another time, a place where thousand-pound chandeliers hovered overhead like they weighed nothing at all, where moonlight came streaming through arches and marble reflected the world at her feet. Padmé winged easily through the steps, whisking Sabé along with her, and for a moment, they were waltzing in their nightgowns through the ballroom of Theed Palace, Sabé’s touch electric at the small of her back. Padmé gasped into the cello’s sonorous vibrato, each pull of the bow a tug-of-war between desolation and desire. It was only on her planet that petticoats and ballgowns, stiff and unforgiving on the bodies of Imperials, turned beautiful, their hems flaring vibrantly over the floor with their soft, silken sighs.

It was only in Sabé’s arms, dancing through her memories of Naboo, that Padmé became weightless.

The bow paused on the string, still trembling, as if on the cusp of climax. Padmé’s eyes fluttered closed and Sabé kissed her, firmly on the mouth and then more passionately, parting Padmé’s lips beneath her own. Padmé clung tighter to the curves of Sabé’s waist, unable to suppress a shiver as the music exploded around them. Sabé’s lip gloss tasted of strawberries, of carefree summers in the open air of the Lake Country. Padmé tugged insistently on her girlfriend’s bottom lip, frenzied by the elusive sweetness of home, and felt Sabé deepen the kiss in response.

Coruscant was a cold planet, in every sense of the word. But Sabé always managed to make it just a little bit warmer. As soon as their lips had parted, Padmé lowered her head to Sabé’s ear. “One day,” she promised, “after all of this is over—the Empire, the Rebellion, everything—I’m going to take you to Varykino. We’ll put ourselves first for once and leave everything behind. No Amidala, no handmaidens…just us. Well…except for maybe one thing.” She laced her fingers through Sabé’s and gently stroked the side of her palm, hoping it would distract from her own quickening heartbeat. “I…I’ve decided that I’d like to raise Luke and Leia with you, Sabé. Assuming…that’s something you would want?”

Sabé’s rosebud lips dropped open in shock. Padmé panicked and nearly jumped in to amend her request—what she would actually say was beside the point—but then Sabé laughed—a full-bodied, dazzling laugh—and breathed, “Padmé…” Her fingers were feather-light on Padmé’s skin as she lifted her face to hers; Padmé was met with the glorious sight of Sabé’s eyes, glistening beneath a thin layer of tears. “I can’t think of anything else I’d want more than to raise children with you. I love you.”

Giddiness overtook Padmé then, a rush like free-falling back into love. The laugh that emerged from her was watery, nowhere near as melodious as Sabé’s, but she didn’t care. “I love you, too,” she replied, and because that still didn’t feel like enough, “I love you, I love you, I love—”

Sabé kissed her again, robbing her lips of the words so that only raw passion remained, and in that moment, in that small, windowless, beautiful room, Padmé’s cares slipped away beneath the invisible moonlight.

#starwarswlweek2021 #padme amidala #sabe #starwars #sabedala #dancing #lesbian romance #lgbtq+ themes #naboo royal handmaidens #post order 66 #padmé amidala lives #emperor vader au #wlw writing wlw

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choco-glow · 3 years

Text

Aliit

“Like so, riduur…kat-tay-LEER da-RAH-soom.”

“Kat-tay-LIR—”

“Leer, think two ees in Basic. The letter’s a bit weird in Mando’a.” Senya shot Shae a rueful smile, and Mandalore the Avenger threw back her long red braid with a laugh, wispy strays forming an auburn halo about her head. “You’re doing great, riduur; it’s hard picking up a new language, especially when it doesn’t use the same grammatical cues as Zakuulan or Basic.”

“And you didn’t have an overbearing father forcing you to learn everything, Buir.” Arcann drawled from where he was underneath Shae’s speeder, his face striped with oil and a bit of grease, blue eyes bright over his smile. Senya couldn’t help smiling back, warm and happy, because her lone living child was so at peace with his rebirth, with this, with them…Hell, he was picking up Mando’a faster than anyone else on base, but then again, the Mandos had taken him in like a lost son, Shae particularly. Torian chuckled low and rich from his perch atop the speeder, working on the upper half of the engine while Arcann took care of the transmission, and Senya found herself happy to have a second son again, if in name only.

Torian Cadera and his wife, a former Togruta bounty hunter-turned-adopted Mando, had been mostly adopted by Shae, and while Chromi was out and about taking care of things, Torian had elected to help his newly adopted brother with the repairs that Shae had, quite frankly, gotten too old to do. Not that that had stopped her, of course, but Shae had allowed Arcann and Torian to take over, while Senya eased her out, swearing and muttering under her breath about being too old for this shit, etc, etc.

“No, that is true, but still, I should at least be able to say that phrase, Tyth knows you tell me it enough.”

“It’ll come with time and practice.” Senya flushed, just a little at Shae’s sweet, quiet smile, and she took her riduur’s hand, conscious of the fact that she stood almost a head taller than the other woman. Then there was her power in the Force…Senya still felt like the odd duck out, though Arcann had made himself useful enough to blend in admirably. But then, he and Thexan both had felt better with their fellow soldiers on the battlefield, rather than the cold confines of Zakuul’s palace. Vaylin too, though Senya had always been less sure of her youngest…but she shook those sad thoughts away, longing for her children, and knowing that at least they were at peace once more in the Force.

“So it will…How about we go find ourselves a bit of dinner? We’re old ladies now; we can’t skip meals.” Shae pulled a face at that, and Torian laughed, falling back a little at her expression.

“Admit it, Mandalore, you’re no orochick any longer.” She swiped at him playfully, and he grinned, cheeks dimpled and eyes crinkled shut, and Senya laughed, catching Shae’s hands and pulling her closer.

“Old my ass, Cadera, don’t make me swat you like your buir should have.” Shae ruffled his hair, though, grinning despite her protests, and let Senya drag her off, while Senya failed to hide her smile. “I see you smiling too, riduur.”

“Yes, well, it’s nice to listen to you…even if you’re a bit over the top.”

“Hey now, I’m downright boring for Mandalore; trust me, some of my predecessors weren’t that nice. But…eh, that’s old news. C’mon, let’s hit the cantina; that C2 droid found the best chef in the galaxy.” Senya chuckled at that as they took the elevator back up to the main deck of the base, protected by the heavy cliff overhang, with the rest of the Alliance stronghold carved into ancient bedrock. Odessen as a planet was relatively young, and life on the planet hadn’t progressed to sentient yet, which had made it perfect for the Alliance…and having been so young in the galactic record, it was also that rare planet that hadn’t been explored yet, hence the first come, first owned philosophy.

Not that their Commander had claimed the planet for herself…no, Ionial had taken care to file everything neatly, and for a Jedi Knight, that was a rare perk. Then again, she was married to Theron Shan…and as he was the main Operations manager to the whole of the Alliance, Senya had a feeling that paperwork was something that poor couple dealt with even in the marriage bed.

Certainly, she was perfectly fine shacking up with Shae in her old age; Mandalore had baggage, but so did she, and though they did have responsibilities…they could set them down for a time. Shae, however, nudged her out of her thoughts with a careful touch to her elbow, and Senya glanced down at her riduur, eyebrows raised…and followed Shae’s line of sight to one of the tables in the back room, empty but for a familiar figure in long graying braids, her slender hands wrapped around a mug of tea, her beautiful face pinched with weariness and sorrow.

“…That’s Satele…”

“So it is…Senya, love, how much to you know about the Grandmaster?” Shae murmured as they accepted their drinks, and Senya chewed her lip, reviewing everything she’d learned about the former leader of the Jedi in the last eight years.

“…I know that she was the Grandmaster, and though she still holds the title, she is no longer the speaker for the Jedi. I know that she helped train our Commander…and I know that she’s Theron’s mother.”

“…She’s a hell of a warrior, in the speaking halls and on the battlefield. I’ve gone up against her once, and out of respect, I’ll never do that again.” Shae replied softly, and to Senya’s surprise, the Mandalorian took her hand, guiding her to the room. “And out of respect, I think she needs a friend.” Senya glanced back up at Satele’s face, and even at this distance, Senya could see tears sliding down her cheeks.

“…You might be right about that. A moment…” She leaned over to the waitstaff who took their order, and hurriedly ordered a third meal of Alderaanian stew and fresh veggies, and Shae nodded approvingly. They made their way to the back room, and it was Shae, her eyes frank and kind, who slid into the booth opposite Satele’s seat, and gently clasped the Jedi’s hands. Senya joined her as well, her own long hands joining Shae’s, and that brought Satele’s eyes up slowly, tears streaming down her face, her pain so strong that Senya instinctively reached for the Force to help calm her. That seemed to help, just a little, and Satele took a deep, shuddering breath.

“…Can we ask what happened?” Shae asked gently, her tone as soft as Senya had ever heard it, and Satele gave a weary, wet laugh.

“…I tried to talk to my son, and utterly ruined things. Again.” She swallowed, with difficulty, but cleared her throat and took a shaky breath. “Theron…and I have a…well, complicated is too strong. We don’t have much of a relationship at all. I…when I got pregnant, I didn’t think about him, I didn’t think about being a mother…I was too worried about being found, about figuring out what I could do with him. My master, Ngani Zho, took him and raised him…I stayed for six weeks to nurse him until we’d found a formula that worked, but that was all. And I left him.” Satele’s voice broke at that, and both women slid around to hug her, letting her weep into their arms. Senya’s heart ached for her; she’d been raised with no attachments, to have no attachments, and no matter what the Jedi might say, that was something that damaged the very soul.

For all that she mourned her children, Senya was grateful that she’d been able to love them so fiercely. Not being able to care for her babies like that…it horrified her to her very core. One glance at Shae over Satele’s braids, and Mandalore’s eyes were shuttered, angry, and grieving too. I could hate the Jedi for what they’ve done to people…even the Sith cherish their children.

“I am such a horrible mother…” Satele was whispering now, and it was Senya who shook her head, voice low but fierce.

“You are no such thing. You are a woman who was forced to make a choice, with little regard to your own heart.”

“But…the Code…”

“Blast the Code.” Shae’s voice was as sharp as vibrosteel, and Satele flinched, just a little. “Sorry, but…Satele, you wouldn’t have made that choice if you’d been like me, would you?” Satele froze, and for the first time, Senya sensed someone just outside their door, listening…she closed her eyes, opening her mind, and to her shock, it was Theron. He was frozen on baited breath, his eyes wide, and Senya amplified the sound in that room, just a little, just enough…both Shans needed to hear this.

“…No. No, I wouldn’t have…if I’d been…normal…like him…I’d have kept him. If Malgus hadn’t been hunting me…I would have been overjoyed to be a mother…” Satele whispered, but it was enough; Senya heard a bitten off sob outside the door, and she reached behind her, grasping the younger man’s sleeve and gently tugging.

“Theron, you need to come in here.” She called softly, and he shook, but he obeyed her, watery golden eyes a match to his father’s, wide with worry and nerves…and it was Satele who watched him, tears still burning down her cheeks, who reached out for his hands.

“Theron…”

“…You really would have kept me?” His voice wavered, and Senya clasped his shoulder, willing all the love she could feel pouring from Satele into him, knowing he was only just Force sensitive enough to catch it.

“Yes. Yes, I swear, I would have…I would have needed Master Zho to help, because I was…I had no idea what I was doing…but I would have brought you home and to hell with anyone else.” She whispered, and he closed his eyes, lips twisting in pain. “Theron, sweetheart, I’m so sorry…”

“I’m sorry for what I said…I’m sorry, Mama…” He whispered, and Shae hopped up out of the way to let mother and son embrace tightly, both of them sobbing as the dams broke between them. Senya managed to order a fourth meal too, and when they all arrived, she laid them out neatly. Soon, Theron and Satele had calmed enough to sit back down, this time opposite one another with Senya sharing the seat with Theron, Shae on Satele’s side.

“I know you two are probably exhausted, but you need to eat.” She declared, and Theron’s lips curled up in a half-smile, used to Senya’s Mom skill by now, while Satele managed a wan smile and Shae openly grinned.

“Thank you, Senya, Shae…”

“Yeah, thank you…I’m so sorry I yelled, Mom…” Satele only shook her head, eyes softer now, and clasped his hand.

“You were right to yell about that. I never…” She paused, took a deep breath, and continued. “I should have talked to you about all of this…really, I just should have talked to you. I know you felt like the dirty secret for years…and understandably so. I treated you as such, and Jace…” Theron sighed, wincing, and she nodded. “I owe you a lifetime of apologies.”

“…No, just the one is good, Mom. You did give me to Zho, and without him, I would have…well. He explained a lot, especially when I flunked out of the temple; he could have told me to bug off, but he kept in touch, helped me get into the SIS, even went with me to get my implants in. And he never faltered when I asked if you loved me; he always said yes, looking me dead in the eyes. I…didn’t always believe him, but he always said yes.” Satele smiled, just a little, and it was Shae who spoke up, having stayed quiet through most of it all, uncharacteristically so.

“He sounds like a good guy…I’m guessin’ he’s gone to the Force, isn’t he.” Both Satele and Theron nodded, twin expressions of pain marking their faces, and Senya closed her eyes, pulling a well of comfort and care from her core and filling the room with it. She had always been a master at controlling her emotions, in no small part because she was so strong with her empathy, and Satele gave her a fragile smile, so shy and tiny, that Senya couldn’t help smiling back.

“Thank you, Senya…and yes, he is. But he went down in battle, as he wanted, protecting his boy.” Theron was picking at his steak now, his jaw tight, but he heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, he did…it…it was hell watching him die in front of me. But I wouldn’t want him to go any other way; whatever else happened, he was a warrior, and he didn’t let any fight go past him without taking a swipe. But he’s at peace now…kinda wish he’d visited, but…I figure I’m doing a good job if he isn’t coming back.”

“Or you two didn’t need me until now.” The voice of an old man, far older than Satele or Shae, even, filled the glowing spot now hovering next to the table, and Ngani Zho, glowing blue and smiling faintly, stepped from the shadows, giving Theron a gentle cuff on the ear, and tweaking Satele’s nose. Both made the Shans break into startled laughter, and their Master smiled fully this time, leaving Shae and Senya speechless. Force ghosts were…a rarity on Zakuul, if at all; Senya had sensed Darth Marr’s spirit on Odessen, alongside Satele at times, but only just, and never had she sensed Thexan or Vaylin…Shae looked almost frightened, and Senya clutched her hand, broadcasting calm.

“So, you two finally talked it over…about damn time.”

“Master Zho…”

“Don’t you give me that, it’s been long enough. Take your time, feel things out, but let the Code go, Satele. At this point, it matters, but not more than your boy…and Theron, so help me if you don’t cut out the swearing—”

“Look, I’m a leader now, I’m gonna swear a lot more—”

“I will appear in front of your wife and complain to her.” Theron froze, and Zho crossed his arms, looking as smug as a Force apparition could. “With her old master in tow.”

“…Orgus passed on.”

“Wanna take that bet, son?” Another crusty old man’s voice sounded, and the former Jedi Orgus, short-haired and taller than Zho, leaned over the other ghost’s shoulder. Theron blanched, while Satele burst into relieved laughter, leaning back and reaching over Shae’s shoulder to give the other Jedi a brush of her fingers. He chuckled and squeezed her hand before vanishing, and Zho smiled down at her.

“Now then, any more complaints I should know about?”

“No, thank you, Master Zho…and thank you for coming to see us.” Satele murmured, and he leaned over to kiss her forehead, his eyes calm and warm, then he leaned over to do the same to Theron, who hugged the old man tight, despite their bickering.

“…Tasiele would have been proud of you both. She loved you so fiercely, Satele, and Theron…your grandmother would have fought tooth and nail to bring you into the Temple from the start…But she left us far too soon. It’s hard, losing your soulmate…” He gave them both a wan smile, Satele’s mouth open in shock, Theron’s eyes wide and his jaw hanging slack, and Zho chuckled. “Never did really care for the Council’s strict policies…maybe that’s why we had a secret marriage, and why when you were born, Satele, we kept things quiet. Kinda blaming Revan and Bastila for starting a line of rulebreakers…”

“Father…” Zho gave a warm chuckle, and kissed his daughter’s brow, then his grandson’s, and vanished once more, his revelation leaving both Shans speechless, while Senya and Shae made to get up and back out. Satele came her senses, and shook her head, taking a deep breath. “Shae? Senya? Please, don’t go…I’m sure that was…absolutely bizarre for you both, but please, stay…” They shared a look, and at Shae’s quiet nod, sat back down; Senya was on firmer ground here, if only just, but Shae looked…spooked, for lack of a better word.

“…So, I’m guessing you never knew…?” Shae murmured, and Satele shook her head, eyes closed.

“I knew my father was a fellow knight, but…my mother died when I was a child, and I was already with Zho as his padawan. He was always just Master to me, but kinder, gentler…at the same time, stricter. Now I understand why…” Theron gave a huff of a laugh, and Satele cracked a smile at him.

“It all makes sense now…Force, it must have killed him to keep that secret to the grave…” Theron murmured, and Satele squeezed his hand.

“I think that’s really why he came back…to prove that we had more than just a shared Master…that there’s always time to fix things.” Theron smiled at that, really smiled, and Senya was struck by just how much like his mother he looked in that moment. He took after his father in eyes and coloring, but his smile was all his mother’s, with a touch of Zho in there in the quirk of his lips.

“Yeah, there is…” He leaned up, kissing her on the forehead, and sighed. “But duty, unfortunately, owns my sorry ass, and I need to go get things in order. Love you, Mama…make this a…thing? Maybe tomorrow?” He asked, sounding so unsure of himself, and Satele kissed his forehead back, both hands cupping his face.

“I love you too, Theron. Go, and call if you need any help at all.” He shot her a weak grin, and sped back off to work, while Satele slumped back into the cushions with a weak laugh. “…You both are looking at me like I’m crazy.”

“Nah, just figured you were overwhelmed.” Some of Shae’s easy-going nature had returned, and she motioned for the Jedi to keep eating. “Eat up, no point in wasting good food.” Satele obeyed, and by the time the three women had finished their plates, Senya gathering up all four dishes, Shae was gently rubbing Satele’s shoulders, and Senya knew that look in Mandalore’s eye.

They’d talked it over extensively over the last six months they’d been together; if there was anyone they might wish to add as a third lover…Satele was first on the list for both of them, and Senya could already feel the beginnings of a dyad between herself and Satele, which, had she not taken the time to research it on the Holonet…

“…thank you both. Sincerely. I…I thought for sure it was all over, that…that Theron would never speak to me again…” Satele murmured, and Senya cuddled up to her other side, rubbing her upper back while the Jedi leaned into them both, melting a little from the gentle touches.

“He’d already came back in the short time we were there…” Senya murmured, and Satele gave her a weak smile, gray-blue eyes weary but relaxed.

“Still. Thank you. For listening. For feeding us…and for not running away screaming at the ghosts.”

“…It was creepy as fuck, but you’re cute enough to make us stay.” Shae sighed out, and Satele burst into laughter, cackling a little as Senya hid a smile. “What?!”

“Oh Force, Shae, I know we were enemies once, but you always know how to make a woman laugh.” Shae grinned at that, looking smug, and Senya just chuckled.

“It’s a strong skillset of hers…just like my empathy is mine. Satele…I can feel the loneliness rolling off of you in waves. It’s been with you for years…” She calmed down, sighing a little, and Senya probed the tentative dyad with careful touches, smiling as Satele closed her eyes and probed back, understanding and a little joy warming between them.

“…so it has. So it has. Your empathy…small wonder you walled yourself off, Senya…” Satele’s eyes were calmer now, and she glanced at Shae, making sure that the lone non-Force user was also in the conversation. “You two…I was surprised to see you two together, but at the same time, I was happy for you…” She trailed off, looking vulnerable now, and it was Shae who spoke up again, this time her voice softer, that familiar rasp Senya’s favorite sound in the world.

“Well, if you wanna give it a shot, riduur, we’d love to have you in the middle. There’s something already with Senya and you, right?”

“How…did you know…?”

“I might not have the Force, but I can read bodies almost as well. And Senya said she’d sensed something the first time she’d met you, a…dayd, right?”

“Dyad, but close enough. A bond, between two souls through the Force. It’s rare…but it’s strong.” Satele bit her lip, worrying at it, and Shae gently took her hand.

“Riduur. Satele. There’s been a bond between us too, we were both just…too indoctrined by other bullshit at the time to see it.” Those blue, blue eyes, warm despite all the storms they’d weathered, watched both her riduur…and her riduur-to-be with a calmness that not even Senya could call up. “I lost my daughters…you lost your whole family. Senya lost everyone but Arcann, and for a time, she’d lost him too. We lost our lovers, and in time, discovered that those weren’t what our hearts had longed for. I had a long time to figure my heart out…have you?” Satele seemed to think on it for a long, long time, dipping her head to stare at her tea; neither Senya nor Shae were impatient, though, holding her hands, Senya radiating love through the bond, Shae’s eyes never leaving Satele’s face.

When those eyes lifted again, though, both women were shocked to see that the storm clouds in Satele’s eyes had parted, leaving sky blue irises, with a hint of gold glimmering in the centers. A warm smile, rich and bright and so lovely it made Senya’s heart ache to see it, and she leaned in, kissing first Shae, then Senya full on the lips, pulling them into her arms.

“…I have. I found where I belong.” Shae grinned, bright and fierce, and Senya laughed, happy as joy from deep within welled up and overflowed, Satele’s power second only to her daughter-in-law’s.

“Good. ‘Bout damn time. C’mon, you two…let’s go let the brats know.”

“Arcann will be thrilled.”

“Torian’ll probably just call me a gold digger, the little shit.”

“…oh crap.” Senya paused as Satele froze, her arm over the Jedi’s shoulder while Satele’s arms were around their waists, and she touched Satele’s cheek, worried.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

“…Theron’s going to kill me.”

“Nah, probably just bitch about it. Hey…” Both of them stared as Shae got a wicked grin on her face, and suddenly, Senya understood exactly how Hylo felt whenever Gault opened his big fat mouth. “We could stage a strip Pazaak tourney. Let the kid really understand what trauma is.”

“Oh Force, Shae, no.”

��…I have a better idea.” Satele’s voice was smug, and she pulled out an old datapad, pulling up a file that crackled for a moment before clearing, revealing a tall man with long dark hair in a half-pony tail, his robes a bit disheveled.

“Is this thing on?”

#swtor #lesbian space moms #momacule #this became a series #I'm not sorry #shae vizla #senya tirall #satele shan #theron shan #arcann #torian cadera #female jedi knight mentioned #female bounty hunter mentioned #shae/senya/satele

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

Text

once upon a december

knight!steve x reader (sort of an anastasia au type thing!)

word count: 4.09k!

warnings: i think swearing! but other than that this is good for everyone!

did not check her for errors, sorry!

part two!

You rode for about fifteen minutes at medium speed on the huge horse that felt like seconds to you by the time you were coming into town. The way the horse stopped startled you, because just as fast as he started his trot, it felt natural to you. It would have brought you all the way to sleep, if your mind hadn’t been so wary about who was right in front of you.

“This is our stop,” he muttered, getting off of his horse and turning to you, and you reached your hand out to be helped down, landing softly on your feet. “You good?”

“I am, thank you.” You said out of politeness, and he nodded. You looked at where his eyes were looking as he tied his horse to the tree, and you immediately recognized it as a bar. “A bar?”

Those were forbidden back at the orphanage. You had been told that only low people went there, people with no class. As far as you were concerned, orphans were the lower class. You couldn’t get lower than that in the kingdom. Right above you were the common bargoers, you believed.

“There a problem with that?”

“I don’t speak to drunk men.” You surely didn’t. You had learned from others that men who were drunk wanted one of two things at all times, and that was to start a fight or to make children. At first, you had faith in the men that people talked so down on. But you learned. Like all other women, you learned. “If he wants to speak to me, he’ll have to come outside.”

“It’s cold,” James said, giving you a face.

You weren’t going in a room full of rowdy people. You much rather preferred hushed, passionate conversations and whispers. It was just… better. “If he’s a good man, he won’t make me go in there.”

“What does him being a man have to do with that?”

“Men are nasty,” you said boldly, and he gave you a slightly amused, slightly agitated look. “And they’re all in there,” you said, grimacing when you heard boisterous laughter. “If you want a good seamstress, you’ll bring him out here to talk.”

“Where are you from?” He asked out of nowhere, and you were both shocked at his blatant attitude and relieved by it.

“Why?”

“You don’t sound like you’re from around here.” He per his horse twice before looking back at you. “So, where are you from?”

You took a deep breath and then exhaled, watching it leave your body with an intense curiosity before you answered his question. “Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t know?”

A slow smile spread across his face, and then he was grinning, a shallow but true grin. And then, he shook his head once. “No.” He turned around and walked straight into the bar.

You had no idea what to do. Were you supposed to stand there and wait, possibly even freeze? Or was that a sign for you to follow him or go on your own way? You had already tried to be on your own, and that didn’t work well at all. Maybe you were a team player before you were an orphan.

You stood with your arms wrapped around your body, swishing back and forth and bending your knees every so often, locking eyes with the horse every now and again before finally turning away from the bar and throwing your head up, giving out a groan.

“Hey,” you tilted your head back down. “Buck tells me you’re a seamstress for cheap.” You turned around and faced the direction where the sound of boots slapping snow came from, and immediately you were stunned.

A blonde man, even taller than his brunette companion, was standing there, his steps long stuttered at the sight of you. You could see his blue eyes clearly even through the flurries of snow that were still coming down. You frowned subconsciously, something about the sight of him tugging at your mind.

He took a few steps closer, and you stayed put. You could have sworn that his head was going to pop right out of his neck when he pushed it forward, trying to get a good look at your face. He was close enough where you could see the looks of surprise, confusion, and anger morph into one. His jaw slacked, and as quiet as the wind, he said one word. “Alexandra?”

Just like that, your enchantment with the second grown man that you had seen during your journey dropped. You shook your head at him. “Who’s Alexandra?”

His slight joy dropped, plummeted so far that you couldn’t have caught it even if you tried. “Who are you?” He questioned harshly.

“Y/N,” you said cautiously, narrowing your eyes on him. “I make clothes. You said you needed help,” you said, and you looked towards the hole in his pants and how they were shorter than what they needed to be, and you also caught sight of a huge hole under his arm. You gave him a look. “And it seems to me that you do need help, so don’t be so hostile.”

“Buck, who-”

“I found her. She sprained her ankle.”

The blonde man had you on the receiving end of a harsh look and then yanked his friend to the side, seemingly for a private conversation that wasn’t so private because of how loud he was, and how good your hearing was.

You could tune into nearly anything, and tune out of nearly anything. It was the perk of being the oldest for most of your time at the orphanage. Some kids were fighting while another needed some help, and you couldn’t listen to both. And so, you adapted.

“This- who is she? Who is that, Bucky?” Bucky? His name was Bucky and not James?

“She says she’s-”

“I know, but she sews, too?” The man’s voice was quiet. “She- she looks like an older version of Alexandra.”

“I know.”

Whoever this “Alexandra” girl was, the blond man was not happy about you resembling her. It was all over his face and in his body language. “So, why did you bring her here?”

“He brought me here because your pants are too small,” you chimed in, and they jumped. “What? I have good hearing. What can I say?”

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop.”

“Guess my parents never taught me that,” you joked, knowing that they wouldn’t get it. “I can fix your clothes. I just need money, and quiet. All the whispering freaks me out, and I can hear it.”

“Who are you really?”

“I’m Y/N, I’m an orphan, and I’m a seamstress in training.”

“You’ve never worked in a shop?”

“W-well, no, but I- I know how to sew,” you said, getting tripped up on your words the second he started to ask you about what you could do. “In fact, I did all of my clothes myself.”

He looked you up and down. “How did you learn?”

You had a feeling that I always just knew wasn’t going to be enough for the blond man, especially because he already didn’t like you. “I… it’s a natural talent.”

“Ha!” His laugh was more of an exclamation than anything as he looked up to the sky and shook his head. “When will I be done paying for the past?”

You made a face at him and waited for his dramatics to subside, tapping your foot in the snow despite your utter freezing. “So, are you going to give me your pants to work on…?”

“What’s your rate, girl?”

“Don’t call me that.” You retorted. “Who are you, anyway?”

“Sir Steven,” he answered, and you saw James give him a look. “What pay do you want?”

“Enough to get a train ticket to Auren.” They both looked at you strangely, and it was for long enough that you took a step back and crossed your arms over your chest. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“Why are you going there?” James asked carefully, almost as if he was walking on the thinnest sheet of ice over a lake that he was standing in the middle of. You didn’t like it.

“Because I want to.” You didn’t even consider trying to explain to them about the pull you felt. They looked rich. They looked like they had never experienced loss before. You hadn’t met many knighted men, but you felt like they were too pretty to have seen much at all. “So, if you can’t trade me some new clothes for a ticket, then, I’ll find someone else.”

“We were actually heading that way.”

“That way?” You asked, a brow cocked. “You mean to get there by horse?”

“It’s no more than a three week ride from here, if we’re fast.” James explained, looking to his partner, who was still staring holes in your face. “The trail is already made.”

You knew what he was insinuating. Was it wise to agree to it? Probably not, and at the same time, it may save you money and time. It would take you a long time to work up what you needed for a ticket, but if they were offering to let you ride with them if you fixed their clothes every so often, that could be it. On the back of a horse could be the way you got to Auren, away from the snow, away from everything you’ve conditioned yourself to know again.

“Are you offering for me to come with you?” The huge, blond man looked horrified.

“If you’re comfortable with riding,” he said, ignoring the lethal look that “Steven” gave him. “We mess up our clothes a lot, we could use someone who knows how to fix them. How fast are you?”

“Very.” And you were. You were quick and accurate, and you only got quicker with every passing month.

“I’m sorry-” the glowering man gave you a fake smile and turned around to his friend. “We need to talk.” He pulled him off to the side, way too far for you to hear, and sighed and shook your head.

“Hey, horse.” You muttered, petting him a few times. “Do me a favor, would you?” There was no verbal answer, of course. “If you think I should go with them, stomp your foot twice.

You didn’t even need for him to stomp his huge feet for you to know what you were doing. The men seemed more honorable than the ones you were warned about, and for some reason, you knew that you could trust them more, even if the blond one was angry. The time it would take for you to earn the money would be past three weeks, and in three weeks, you could potentially already be in Auren. It made no sense for you to not take the deal, so you decided that you would make sense.

Minutes later, a red faced Steve and a frustrated James came back over, only to find you talking sweet to James’ grey horse.

“What do you need to sew?” James asked, hands on his hips, near his sword though you knew that he wasn’t going to be using it. “Supplies?”

You tried not to smile. “I have everything but cloth and string that matches the colors of your clothing, really.”

“We don’t care much for looks,” Steve muttered and turned to his own horse, giving you his back. “Just do what you do, and we’ll pay you.”

“We’ll pay you and,” the brunet added, giving his friend a dirty look. “You can ride with us, but you’ll have to share horses with someone.”

“You,” you said automatically, making Steve turn his head your way. “You seem to be the one most on board with me coming, so… you. Please.”

“Fine by me,” He said, shrugging. “We should get you out of the cold and set up camp.”

You nodded, and your shoes crunched on the snow as you walked forward. Right before you hoisted yourself up on Bucky’s horse, you heard the other man call out at you. “Don’t try it if you can’t do it yourself-” you interrupted him by effortlessly swinging onto the horse, scooting back to give the man enough room for when he got up himself.

“You ever rode a horse before?”

Not to my knowledge. “No.”

Steve gave you a long look, scrutinizing and breaching into the rude factor. He nodded his head after the lengthy stare and then looked towards Bucky. “We riding out?”

“She’s going to freeze if we don’t set something up, and a fire, too.” You agreed with that mentally. Bucky hoisted himself up and then tapped his horse quite lovingly before the both of you started on a trot, your legs trembling against the backs of his from the freezing cold.

§§

You didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep until you felt yourself hit the ground. Not a sound came out of you as you roused yourself from your sleep, blinking slowly as you registered the cold, and the sound of shouting.

“Shit!” You felt yourself being picked up by the arms and you sighed, feeling your wet clothes get even more damp. Your shoes were as good as gone. Your shirt was barely salvageable and your pants were probably better off if you took them off. “Are you-”

You were traded off into another set of arms, and you nearly flinched when warm hands touched your neck. “Is she alive?”

“Yeah, but we need a fire. Now.”

You shook your head and opened your eyes, blinking once you saw the night sky above you being halfway blocked by Steve’s face while he peered down at you, that same suspicious and questioning look that he had before on his face again. You raised your arms up and put your hands together, rubbing them to get some friction going, and hopefully some heat. You were cold, and hardly awake.

Before you even knew what you were doing, you stood up on your own, reaching for the bag on your back and pulling it in front of your eyes, your hands digging for something.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, his tone annoyed. “Take it easy.”

You ignored him easily as you took out the thick quilt that you made that was folded up and nearly done. You grunted when you realized that you never quite finished it, and then you pulled out your scissors. Your hands shook as you found where you left off and realized that cutting and tying would do nothing but ruin it.

“Are you seriously trying to knit right now?” Steve asked, irritation leaking into his question as Bucky worked on starting a fire not too far away, diligently blowing and running stones against each other.

“Gotta finish,” you mumbled, and then you shook your hands out.

“Just put it on, worry about finishing later-” he was cut off by your hands working rapidly, threading the thick material through your largest needle at what was almost your top speed, never missing once. He stared down at your hands and your face as your concentration never broke. You finished the last line, grabbed scissors, and ended it before you wrapped it around yourself. “How… I thought you said you were never taught.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Fire’s ready,” Bucky called, and you stumbled during your first two steps only to fall forward and be caught by Steve, who made an exasperated sound. “Don’t put the blanket in the fire, Y/N.”

You were freezing. You were tired. You had just finished a knitting project that you assumed would take you much longer than you thought. And you had a feeling that everything you were feeling was going to be a constant thing on the journey that you had barely begun.

The morning after you felt better, and the sun hitting your skin made you glow like a golden flower. You were back to the slightly bubbly attitude you naturally had, waving to Bucky when you woke up and saw him still on watch, immediately starting to knit something.

“Those socks?” He asked I’m a raspy voice after watching you for a few minutes, and you nodded.

“I’m making a few pairs for all of us.”

“How much material do you have?” He looked at your bag, and you laughed. It seemed small, but you lived confined all your life. You knew how to compress things to make them fit, and you knew that to anyone else, your bag probably seemed like a magic trick.

“A lot,” You mused, looking to the side as Steve woke from his sleep at the sound of your voice. “All my life’s savings have gone to material to sew, fabrics of all kinds.”

“Why didn’t you save to get a train ticket?” He asked softly, almost like he knew that he probably shouldn’t have asked.

Your fingers stopped moving as quickly as you thought, your movements much slower, slow enough for them to see what you were doing with them. “I could live without making it to Auren, I suppose,” you replied just as soft, looking back down to your hands. “But… sewing? No. I couldn’t live without doing that.”

“You love it that much?”

Your expression of nonchalance turned into muted confusion when he asked that. Did you love sewing? You weren’t sure. You weren’t sure if you loved it or if you knew it, and those were two different things. It was your way of life that you would never abandon, but did that mean that you loved it? “I… I know it, I think.” You dropped your arms onto your lap. “It’s the only thing I have, I guess.” You had sewing and dancing, the kind that all the commoners learned to do.

Steve frowned, too. “Have from when?”

A small scowl formed on your face, the same one that you hid from the younger kids when they pressed on for you to remember something that you clearly didn’t. You wiped it off of your face and just gave a shrug. “I don’t know. But it’s the only thing I have in this world that is mine, so I’ll keep it.”

“Okay,” Bucky said, giving Steve a look when he saw that the ever persistent man was about to keep pressing. “Do you think you can sew and ride at the same time?”

“Probably,” you answered.

Steve stood up. “Then let’s get it moving.”

You had been given Steve’s pants to work on while you rode, and you started with the hole first. You found a fabric that matched the color relatively closely and went with it, finished within forty minutes. You couldn’t do much about the length other than estimate how much longer he needed them, and your guess was two and a half inches or so.

By the time you were almost done with the first leg, you looked at the sun and realized that you were going in the wrong direction. “Uh…” you started softly, and you felt Bucky tense up. “Where- this isn’t the direction we’re supposed to be headed.”

“We have to make a short detour, pick up a friend.”

“How far is your friend?”

“Shouldn’t be more than twenty leagues from here,” Bucky answered, his strong voice louder than the cutting wind. “He’s good people.”

“Does he live where cloth is available?”

“I thought you spent all your money?” Steve asked from beside you, his eyes watching your every move, like they had been the whole time.

“I did,” you confirmed, and you smiled when he looked confused. “I can basically talk my way into getting anything,” you said, and you watched him roll his eyes. “Except for someone to adopt me, I guess.”

You felt Bucky’s snort more than you heard it, and Steve had a look on his face that said that he didn’t know if he was allowed to laugh at the joke or not, but you shrugged. “Is that one of your talents?”

“What?”

“Sweet talking.”

You made a face. It had been something that came slower, like a memory that was in the part of your brain that was much less quicker than the rest. It was the reason some didn’t ever warm up to you at the orphanage, especially the adults. They called you charming, they said that the combination of your smart tongue and your “accent”, whatever it was, was telling a different story than the one you remembered.

“If I hadn’t seen you being brought in by that man myself, I would have called Marta a liar. You’re no orphan. You- you were something else. Someone else.” The Warden’s words haunted your mind every so often.

“It’s something I think I might have known how to do before.”

“Before what?” Steve asked, and you breathed in through your nose, ignoring the sting of the cold air.

“Before I lost my memory.” The world froze there. “I woke up in the snow, someone brought me to the orphanage, and I don’t remember anything before that.”

“What do you mean, you don’t remember?”

“It means that I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t even think Y/N is my real name. I didn’t remember what it was, so I picked it. I knew how to read, and I saw it in a book, so I took it.”

“Holy… when were you put into the orphanage?”

“I was… I think I was fifteen or sixteen. It’s hard to say, no one could tell my age without giving me an exam and I said no to that one,” you chuckled, but neither man was laughing. You hadn’t even realized that you stopped riding, and that Steve had turned his horse so that he was looking at you head on without having to turn his body.

“You don’t know who you are?”

“I know who I am,” you said, getting a little defensive. Even though

“You just said that you didn’t remember what happened to you through the first sixteen years of your life, that’s a huge chunk of time.”

“Well, I know who I am now.” Steve frowned deeply. “I’m Y/N, I like to knit, and I’m good at talking. That’s it. That’s all you need to know. That’s all I know.”

“Have you tried to find something out?”

“What do you think going to Auren is about?” You quizzed, feeling oddly satisfied when that shut him up. “I think someone’s there.”

“Who?”

“Someone who knew me,” you said.

“How do you know that they’re there?”

“I just have a feeling,” you said, your voice slightly whimsical as you thought about being reunited with people who cared about you, the people you had guilty lost recollection of. “And I also have nothing to lose.”

“None of us do,” Steve said, and then he snapped the reins on his horse and began trotting forwards.

“Steve, Buck!” You had fallen asleep and woken up to the enthusiastic shouting of a man. “That was much faster than expected.” You wiped your face with your hand and straightened your posture, attempting to stop your teeth from chattering like they previously were. “Do you have someone- oh, Holy Hera.”

A man with nearly the same look of shock that you had was looking at you, eyes wide. You would have assumed that what he felt was terror, if his lips weren’t slowly curling up into a smile. The world stood still again as you both analyzed each other, him with much more confusion and enthusiasm than you.

“Alexandra!” He nearly shouted, and he bent his body downwards, into a deep kneeling position. You tilted your head to the side, so confused by his sign of respect that you didn’t see the looks of panic on the other men’s faces. “I always-”

“Y/N.” Steve said sharply, interrupting him and catching all three of you by surprise because of his hostility. “Her name is Y/N.” He was the first to climb off of his horse, and he gave the man a pat on the back before entering the house like he had been a thousand times and lacked the need for invitation.

“Who is Alexandra?” You asked again, upset at being mistaken for someone for the second time.

“She’s um, she’s no one.” Bucky said, shooting his friend a look. “This is Sir Sam Wilson. He’s a great man, very honorable.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Sir.” You responded, helping yourself off of the horse and ignoring the icy air that surrounded Steve’s sharp actions.

You saw him look at your quilt, and then at the bag that had needles dangerously poking out. “You sew?”

“I do,” you responded, and he smiled. “I think I’m hired to be their seamstress and accompany them to Auren.”

“You have interest in going to Auren?”

“Yes,” you answered, drawing out the last letter to make it sound like less of a short answer. You smiled at him and moved to get off of the horse, ignoring the way that he rushed forward, hands outstretched to help you down. You swung both of your legs around and hopped right off without problems, prompting for the knight to give you an impressed look.

“You’ve ridden before?”

You knew you looked like you couldn’t even afford a bucket to put the horse food in, and that was why he was asking. It didn’t bother you at all, because the assumption was painfully true. “Actually, before I met them,” you nodded towards Bucky and Steve’s horse, “never.”

“Never?” He echoed. “Even the noblewomen request help from getting down off of their horses. I’ve helped probably every noblewoman who ever stepped foot in the palace walls by horse, besides- yes,” he cut himself off, brushing his hands on his pants and nodding sharply, like he had just remembered something. “Well, I’m sure you’re starving and in need of warmth. I think Steve has already seen himself to the food.”

Sam was right. There were already bowls out, and Steve had filled them with soup and was waiting for everyone else to start eating, even though he looked like he was using all of his strength to do it. His hands were hidden under the table and his leg was bouncing up and down as he stared at his bowl, hunger evident in his expression.

“What have you been eating?”

“We’ve only come across rabbits and squirrels,” Steve muttered, clutching his spoon.

“It’s been an unfortunate season,” Bucky added, giving Sam a look. “And you know that Steve doesn’t operate on an empty stomach.”

“Oh, do I,” He said, a grin on his face as he said it. “Help yourself, Y/N! Don’t be shy.”

“If you insist, Sir.”

“So polite,” he teased, and you cracked a smile. “Where are you from?”

You almost grimaced. “A small town, a ways away from here. Yakir.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It’s not very fun, nothing much to do.” That was the grossest understatement ever. There was quite literally nothing to do, and even if there was something to do there, you were restricted by the operators at the orphanage. “Except for learning manners, I suppose.”

That gained you a smile, and you took your own spoon, first putting it on the other side of your bowl before eating, and folding the napkin out on your lap, crossing your legs and sitting up straight in your chair, leaning over slightly to blow on the soup that you picked up with your spoon.

“This is very good, thank you for making it,” you said after having a bit of it, and you were being honest. It was good, even though you were sure that anything would have tasted good at that moment.

“You’re welcome,” Sam dragged out, eyeing you oddly as you ate the soup in your bowl, which put the attention on you at the table.

“Um…” you trailed off, trying to get at least one of them to explain why they were staring at you like you grew a head and cut it off and then went back to business.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” Bucky assured, and he picked up his own spoon and waved it around, making a big show of starting to eat and hoping that the others would do the same. You raised your brows and then put your lips together before parting them again to drink from the spoon, figuring that whatever weird exchange that was, was going to eventually be explained.

You finished first, and you felt weird about it. Your stomach was full, though, so you watched the fire crackling in Sam’s fireplace with a far off look in your eyes as you thought about Lucas, and what he could be doing.

Did he miss you already like you missed him? Did his young mind offer to spare him some pain by forgetting you were ever there? You almost preferred it to be that way, because you knew that the kid didn’t sleep without you feet away from him. He didn’t eat if you didn’t, he didn’t go outside if you weren’t watching him. You prayed that he wouldn’t remember you.

“What are you thinking so hard about?”

The words that came from Steve took you right out of your mind as you kept your eyes on the burning fire, a small smile gracing your face as you thought about him again. “Nothing.”

****

hey junebugs!! how are y’all? this is entirely self indulgent at this point- and i love this! can’t wait to do more with this steve! we’re gonna build a relationship here with this miniseries, no love at first sight this time! i don’t think anyone’s vibing with this rn but i at least hope y’all liked it! if you did like it, please drop a like or reblog or a comment! i loveee comments omg

#marvel fanfic #knight!sam wilson #knight!bucky barnes #knight!steve rogers #steve fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel au #anastasia au

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

Text

The Spider's Bride Part 3

Pairing: spider!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, forced marriage.

Words: 2422.

Summary: Whoever your stepmother sold you to, he wasn’t as honorable as she claimed.

Part 1

Part 2

P.S. I just remembered I haven't explain arachnids' family ties yet - even though Bucky says he has "sisters", they are actually his cousins, daughters of his aunt. Since the ones of his kind had always lived in a very big families, cousins were considered "sisters" and "brothers" because of their closeness to each other.

_________________

You spent the next two weeks in your chamber again - apparently, Bucky's spells were truly very poweful as you slept the whole day after returning home from the nursery. He even had to have a check on you, but the healer assured him you'd be alright soon. Bucky had to be more careful from now on.

However, he was rather surprised you didn't cry after your awakening and said nothing to him about your visit to the town. Judging by the way you behaved, maybe you were not as shocked as Bucky expected you to be. He was so relieved.

Arabella was visiting often. She didn't enter your rooms as a precaution - she said it was too early for that - but stayed right behind the doors, either singing or talking to you. Despite being reluctant at first, as the days passed, you talked more and more about everything you wanted to know. A part of him was jealous. In the end, he could tell you of all the things you were curious about as well, but you refused to talk to him much. Arabella asked Bucky to be patient. In the end, it was him you considered her captor, not her.

The more time you spent with her, the calmer you seemed. You started eating better, sometimes even complimenting him for the food he brought you directly from the surface; the man heard less and less of your crying. Eventually, you even started to move within the house to borrow new books from the extensive library Bucky made exclusively for you. Of course, he still kept his human form whenever you were with him.

"Bucky, we discussed a few things this morning with Arabella." You said to him when you brought back empty dishes from your room and started washing them despite Bucky protesting it. "That potion I asked you to give me the first day when you brought me."

He stiffened at your words since he knew perfectly what potion you were talking about. What on Earth Arabella was thinking?

"She told me how your spells work and how humans can get addicted to that. I understand why you don't want to cast more charms on me." You rinsed the large silver dish and put it to the side to let it dry before storing them in the cardboard. "But she said that if you added a three drops of love potion to my drink in the morning, it may ease my worries."

"Dear Lord." He grunted, taking away your cup and clenching his teeth. Maybe his sister was an expert in potions she had been preparing for decades, yet he couldn't believe she offered you something like that right after telling him to not use magic.

"Please, Bucky. She said it's safe."

"Oh, and how would she know this? I don't remember her treating any human females for long."

Controling himself was rather complicated at this point, but he knew he was overreacting. Undoubtedly, his sister would do nothing to harm you in any way. He just didn't trust the methods he knew nothing about, and risking your health was out of question.

You sighed, taking the apron you stole from your betrothed off and folding it neatly. The more you stayed here, the more acceptable your life seemed to you, and sometimes you hated it with all your heart. Your bed was nice and warm; your food was always ready for you when you became hungry; your room was reserved purely for you, and no one could enter it without your permission; you had many gorgeous dresses your stepmother could never even dream about. Although the thought of Bucky in his true form still made you feel disgusted, you couldn't wish him to die anymore. More and more you thought someone like him didn't deserve it just because he was ugly. Regardless what your instincts were telling you, he treated you better than any human did, didn't he?

You had a better life down here since the times your mother left, and thinking of that hurt.

However, you did want to wipe off the memory of Bucky chasing you the day your stepmother brought you to the cave. Sometimes you saw his eight long dark legs in your nightmares. This was what you talked to Arabella today, voicing your concerns to help you do something with it. Maybe if you could erase this, your feelings towards the man you couldn't escape would change faster.

Arabella didn't agree to wiping off that picture out of your mind as the spell that she would need to cast was unpredictable at best and could take half of your memories. As you knew little about magic, she spent some time explaining to you how the charms worked and how they affected both arachnids and humans. Indulging yourself into taking too many soothing spells sounded like a bad idea now, and you understood Bucky's reluctance to cast them.

Nonetheless, she offered you a better way to ease your worries. Love potion didn't bring the ones of your kind any particular harm, though it wasn't powerful enough to keep you in love for a long time. However, a small dose of it could keep your worries away, the woman said. If you and Bucky agreed, she would ensure the potion to be made perfectly.

But he just had to be so goddamn stubborn! You learned that despite his scary appearance and the fact that he'd been through the war from its beginning to the very end Bucky was a hopeless romantic. He probably hoped the issue would be solved somehow purely by itself. As much as you would like it to be true, your mind refused believing that marrying an arachnid wasn't frightening.

"Listen, I know you care." You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, turning to him. "But I need help. I know soothing spells aren't safe, so we need something else. Please, let's try this out. If you see I don't react as I should, we'll stop right away. What harm could 3 drops of potion bring, anyway?

He groaned at your persistance, but you weren't giving up just yet. You spend half an hour talking to him purely about the potion and the possibilities it could bring you until the arachnid gave up, surprised you stayed with him for so long by our own will. More than that, Bucky was content with your desire to get rid of your fears and even change the way you thought of him. Maybe it was for the better. Maybe trying giving you a few drops of a potion would help.

When he let you drink water mixed with potion, he was afraid to see the immediate changes, but nothing happened. You stayed in your room, reading the new book Arabella brought you. Your cheeks weren't heated; you gaze was focused on the text; your relaxed body wasn't shaking. It seemed perfectly okay.

Tomorrow morning he gave you three more drops as his older sister had prescribed, and nothing had happened after that, too. Bucky wasn't even sure it made sense to keep giving you the potion, but you said you were feeling a little better, so he believed you. However, the third day you spent solely in the library, not even locking yourself in your room as usual. Apparently, Arabella's advice had been way more useful he had anticipated at first.

The forth day you suddenly asked him to show you his true form. You wanted to give it a try, you said. If you got scared, he could cast a soothing or sleeping speel anyway. Since you were persistent, Bucky eventually gave in, but it didn't end well - you vomited on your own shoes at the sight of his horrifying spider form.

The morning of the fifth day Bucky had fought his desire to pour the whole bottle of potion into your drink and finally see you smiling at him.

The seventh day was better since his sisters visited, taking human form. They brought you gifts - ivory hair comb and hand mirror, pearls and laces. Although you tried refusing their presents because you felt ashamed you could give them nothing in return, they laughed it off: while human traditions required the family of a bride to pay the dowry, arachnids' custom was quite the opposite. You thought the reason was the lack of females in their society, but Bucky's sisters assured you it had nothing to do with it. Actually, they had adopted this tradition from the dark elves who had been their mates from the ancient times. Arabella also told you while the kingdom you belonged to was patriarchal, theirs wasn't much so. She said that despite having seven children - quite a normal thing for a female arachnid - she wasn't the one who would always take care of them as her husband was equally resposible for the brood. He fed them, bathed them, taught them, and brought them to bed just like she did. It sounded almost insane to you.

Then you returned to talk about their marriage traditions, and sisters were excited to tell you how their husbands courted them before they gave their woves. Apparently, all of them except Bucky had been already married.

"You know, the good thing is the courtship period isn't restricted by any laws." Dahlia, the youngest one, said. "While it lasts, a suitor and his family should pamper future bride. When my daughter will grow up, her betrothed will bring her gifts, too."

You tried your best to think of them as humans. Then the talk of their families was much less scary to you as you imagined them wearing beautiful laced silver dresses on the day of their weddings just like women of your kind did. Did arachnids wear dresses at all, despite when they took human form? You doubted it. Their large spider bodies could only be covered with two dozen meters of fabric, and moving with those on top would be too complicated.

You sighed when the doors to your chamber were finally closed as Bucky's sisters left. The deep sense of guilt had long settled in your chest. All of them were kind to you. No one had ever forced you to scrub floors or cook before the sun rises to have the breakfast ready when everyone gonna wake up. You had forgotten how the broom felt in your work-weary hands. Even though you did nothing at all, you were fed, clothed and given whatever you asked for.

Why did it have to be like this? If Bucky had been cruel to you, it would be so much easier to hate him and wish him to die. But now you couldn't. He didn't deserve to be detested only because of his form.

Wiping your tears away, you returned to bed and wrapped your warm blanket under yourself.

____________

"You shouldn't creep on her all the time, brother." Dahlia shook her head disapprovingly. "You don't give her privacy."

"She doesn't know I'm watching her while she's alone." When he protested, Arabella shot him a serious glance.

"Your obsession with her will do neither of you any good. Remember, though humans are not as conscious as us, they can still feel the emotions of others. She'll get scared."

"She's already scared!" He barked at the woman, furious, his hands clenched. "I don't change my form even when I go to sleep. I've stayed like that for the whole week! And she's still frightened. She still doesn't let me touch her. Maybe she never will. The only time I get to see her happy is when she's reading in her chamber all by herself, and you're telling me I can't do even that?"

"Do you know uncle had always been watching your mother, Bucky?" His second oldest sister intervened with her quiet and calm voice, her gentle hand brushing against his tensed shoulder.

The man stilled, his angry expression turning terrified in a matter of seconds. No, he didn't know, or rather didn't think of it much. Although his mother died shortly after giving birth to him, the dark obsession of his father with her was... dreadful. Bucky had never thought his feelings towards you could remind him of that. How could it be? Wasn't he much more gentle? Kind? Human?

"Bucky, you're a good man." He heard Arabella whispering to him softly. "You're better than him, you had always been. But if it continues like that, it will get worse. I told you, give her time. Have patience. She has suffered no less than you did, and she can't help you heal if she hadn't recover herself."

"I want nothing but love her." He said in desperation, covering his face with his huge palms.

"Then trust her. Look, she got so much better she didn't even cry when we came. I know you want her to jump into your arms, but it just doesn't happen that way."

Miria patted his head gently and nodded, agreeing to her older sister. They had slowly regained their huge and shiny spider-like forms right in front of the house Bucky lived in, strangers walking the street nearby paying them no attention as it had been a common magic ritual.

"I have to remind you my husband had spent half a year courting me." The youngest sister said, trying to cheer him up. "And he belongs to the same kind as us. Didn't stop me from believing he would be a terrible husband, though."

Bucky forced a faint smile. It was true, and he remembered how desperate the guy had been when Dahlia refused walking with him in the forests again and again. But she wasn't scared of him; she didn't hate him because he had eight nasty long legs making a terrifying sound when he walked. It was different.

He felt tears gathering in his eyes and blinked, quickly gathering himself. Bucky wasn't pathetic to the point he could goddamn cry in front of his own sisters.

"Thank you for your advice. I will do whatever I can." His voice sounded tired when Arabella dropped a kiss on his cheek and motioned others to follow her to the street.

Soon he was standing outside all by himself, watching the lamppost's flickering light. The nights were growing colder, and he shivered, turning his back to the black gates and marching straight home. He didn't know by the time he entered the hallway you had already consumed one third of the bottle with a love potion Bucky stored in the kitchen.

__________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @navegandoaciegas @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @ladyacrasia @iheartsebastianstan @rosalynshields

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #yandere

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callmemythicalminx · 4 years

Text

Birds and the Bees 4- DBH Connor x Reader

Can be read as a stand alone!

Fandom: Detroit:Become Human

Warning: Talking ‘bout sex, Awkwardness

Summary: Now that you and Connor have been doing ‘The Devil’s Tango’ for a few months now, you’ve noticed something recently that seems too insane to be true. It’s time for you to see if it’s actually possible.

A/N: I had to write another part of BATB for my first fanfic back after being away for so long. You guys really love this series and it’s one of my favourites too. Every since finishing part 3.5, I always wanted to add more as there’s definitely more ideas to be told with Connor and his innocense. I feel like this might be the last one, but who knows, I might write more in the future...

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

What. The. Fuck!

This is actually happening. The stick in your hands confirms it- you’re pregnant. For the past two months, you’d noticed that you’d missed a few periods, nearly every morning waking up with a trip to the bathroom to throw up and your tiredness had been getting worse everyday too. You’d had initial ideas that it might just be stress or your irregular cycle making you feel ill, but eventually you had to come to the absolutely insane idea that you may actually be pregnant with Connor’s baby.

You’d tried to put off taking a test because your mind refused to believe this could be happening. Not that you don’t want a kid, you’d love to have little versions of Connor and yourself running around. But you want kids much further in the future. And also, there’s the teeny tiny odd question of how the hell this has happened! You’re human. Connor is an android. For this exact reason, the two of you haven’t been bothering with protection with all the sex you’ve been having, as you’re both clean and your boyfriend is infertile- or so you thought.

You don’t even know how he’s going to react to this. Will he be happy or sad? And how is everyone else going to react? Yourself and Connor have only been dating for over a year, so it’s much too soon to be having children. You take in a deep breath, sighing as you move your hands down to your stomach.

“I don’t know how you got in there little Floobie, but here you are. God, I hope your Daddy is gonna be okay with this”.

You walk into the living room to see Connor seated on the couch trying to complete one of his puzzles, the stick containing the proof of your future feeling like a burning weight in your sweaty palm as you approach him.

“Connor? I- I uh- I have something I need to show you” You announce, breaking him from his deep concentration as he stares at the pieces in his hand.

“Y/N? Is everything alright? You look really pale and I can detect your temperature rising rapidly”.

You let out a short laugh, walking forward to rest your free hand on his arm as you take a seat beside him. “I’m fine Connor, I’m just a little nervous. I’ve just found out some big news”. He opens his mouth to question you, but your worried look has him stopping short. Instead of telling him, you decide to instead place the test in his hand so he can see it for himself.

As you move to do so, a million thoughts race through Connor’s mind. Are you sick? Are you leaving him? Are you finally gonna get a dog and you’re putting a collar in his hand? With trepidation, he opens his palm as your closed hand begins to open, his eyes flickering quickly as he tries to figure out what you’re about to give him. When the light weight of the stick falls into his hand, his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion and he tilts his head slightly to the side. You hold your breath as he brings the test closer to his face, his face tilting (nearly touching his shoulder now) as he inspects it.

You wait for a reaction, a smile or a frown, anything. But he just continues to look at it. You begin to fear the worse when he finally looks up at you and-

“It’s not working”.

You copy his earlier movement as your own head now turns in confusion, looking at Connor's oddly very calm face.

“What-what do you mean? I just used it. I just used three of them actually to make sure it was right”.

“So you are ill then? Y/N, darling, you should have just come to me, you didn’t need to waste your money buying these things. I am quite advanced with this sort of health observation, thanks to Cyberlife, but you already know that. Which is why I don’t understand why you’d-”.

“Wait, hold on Connor, what do you think this actually is” You ask, incredulously.

“Um… A thermometer. As I said darling, it’s quite easy for me to simply look at you and take an accurate reading of your temperature, in fact I’ve noticed recently-”.

“Connor I’m pregnant”.

He stops for just a moment. Then…

“Oh yes, I already know. Like I was saying, I’ve noticed recently that your bodily readings have been different than usual these past few months and on more than one occasion, I have detected that you’ve been sick in the mornings and hid it from me. I was getting so worried that I just decided to do a full body scan while you were sleeping one night and that’s when I realised there was new life growing inside you”.

“Connor… I-I… You... You knew I was pregnant?! W- why didn’t you tell me?”.

“I thought you already knew? Because of your periods? When a woman discontinues having a monthly release of blood, is it clear to see that she’s pregnant with new life. That and you haven’t been buying any new sanitary products or telling me to go out on calorie hauls everytime you go through that specific time”.

You breathe a deep sigh, of both relief and shock. In fairness, you probably should have realised Connor would have been able to sense you were pregnant- he is the most advanced detective android there is. You guess that your disbelieving of the possibility of this happening also overlooked the fact that your boyfriend is a robot genius.

“If you already thought I was pregnant, did you not question why I hadn’t told you?”

He looks away sheepishly, lifting his hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I thought this was something that women just deal with on their own, the male doesn’t really do much in most cases of animals. The female is the one who cares for the baby with her body, the male is just there to protect and keep them both safe. So I thought it was just a way for you to keep ‘the bun in the oven’ to make sure you’re looking after it okay”.

You blink. You blink again. Then you let out a small laugh and bury your face in your hands shaking your head. That has to be the weirdest thing to come out of your boyfriend's mouth, even after everything he’s said these past few months. When you look back up at Connor again, you see him looking at you, head titled again and you let out another laugh, leaning up to give him a quick kiss.

“Oh Connor… We’re not animals, even though we do act like them sometimes, especially rabbits,” You let out another small laugh, while Connor smiles nodding in agreement “, Couples bring their babies into the world together, supporting each other. Granted the woman does do pretty much all of the work, but the man doesn’t just ‘protect’ and keep them safe, though it is appreciated. They help keep the mother healthy, comfortable, relaxed, loved- like you will right? You do want this baby don’t you Connor?”

“Of course, this is what I’ve wanted since we first made love”.

“Wait… what?”.

“Well, ever since you told me that sex is primarliy to create new life, I have been questioning Cyberlife about installing a new function within me to make me fertile. Though I have been quite enjoying our love making, I still haven’t been able to get the thought out of my head that we haven’t been doing it properly. So thankfully, Cyberlife agreed, on the grounds that it will be a good step in the right direction of progressing human-android relations”.

“So when did you become fertile?”.

“About half a year ago, maybe more”.

“Jesus, Connor, we’ve been having so much sex, it’ll be a wonder if I’m not pregant with twins”.

“I know, I’m surprised it took that long for you to become pregnant. And, statistically speaking, twins are only 3-4 out of every 1000 births, and there are many contributing factors. Sex can contribute to some extent, but it in our case it seems to have helped massively. Just last night, I did a scan again and saw that there are in fact two life forms inside you- how did you know darling?”

“Only 3-4 out of every 1000 births, eh? Well, that’s- WAIT WHAT?!?”

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

“What the fuck?! Twins” Hank utters as he places his half eaten burger down on his arm rest.

To be honest, it probably wasn’t the best idea for you and Connor to tell him that you're having two children at this specific moment in time, eating the food that you had brought him for dinner to help ease this situation. The smarter thing to do would have been to tell him before, then give him the burger and drink from his favourite takeaway to calm him down. But as you sit there next to Connor with guilty smiles on your faces as you look at a horrified Hank who looks like he’s gonna be sick, you definitely know you should have told him sooner.

“Wait, wait, wait, how is this even possible?! You’re an android and Y/N’s human, how does that work?”

You begrudgingly reply “It’s a long story”.

Connor however has no shame and immediately launches into re-telling the story of how you two began having sex. You have no power to stop him as you know this story is getting told no matter what because he is Connor afterall, so you simply sit back and stare down at your wine glass in embarrassment, feeling like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

Every once in a while, you’ll look up and see Hank growing progressively more green as your boyfriend retells how he first asked about sex and then anal, and then your many different sexual escapades including the one where he was in a meeting with Amanada, and then finally how you got pregant. Connor, still as innocent as ever, goes into great, unneeded detail not realising that this isn’t something he should really be telling his dad. Even Sumo looks sick, paws nearly over his ears as he lays at your feet.

Finally after some time to reflect on what has just been said to him, Hank, looking equivalent to a cucumber in colour and looking faint, mumbles “So you two rabbits have been doing it everywhere huh?”.

As Connor happily nods in response, you sit in shame, taking a much needed gulp of wine, then another as Hank takes a big sip of his own drink.

“We even did it on your desk.

Wine. Soda. Everywhere. Again.

*Sigh*

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

A/N: I realise a year later that I wrote the reader to be drinking alcohol during this... while she's pregnant. Don't drink if you're pregnant fellas, my dumbass forgot that 😌

#dbh connor imagine #dbh connor x reader #DBH #detroit connor #detroit become human #detroit become human connor #detroit become human connor imagine #detroit become human connor x reader #writtenbyme #connor x reader #dbh hank #dbh imagine #dbh x reader #detroit become human hank #dbh connor

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alarawriting · 3 years

Text

52 Project #40: Angel of Darkness, Demon of Light

Tala par Kyleth, Darkchild, had been on the road for 12 nights, heading home. There had been no unpleasant incidents thus far, and she fervently hoped things would stay that way. Tonight, however, was a warm, moonless night, the kind the creatures of the night liked best, and the stink of demon was on the air. She would be extremely fortunate to make it through the night without having to deal with some sort of disaster.

The best thing to do, she decided, was to find the demons first, and get rid of them, before she was forced to show herself to anyone. Tala was a warrior-- she didn't like fighting, but she could hardly avoid it, being what she was. What she could avoid was undue notice. She had to go out of her way to help people, but she didn't have to let them know about her-- and being a Darkchild, she craved invisibility more than anything else. So she drew a handful of demon darts and walked the forest in her shadow form. Neither human nor demon nor any other living creature would sense her presence in the deeper shadows of the forest until it was too late.

Then the forest's quiet was shattered by earsplitting shrieks. Tala cursed quietly-- so much for being anonymous. People's lives were at stake now. As she ran toward the source of the cries, she felt annoyance for another reason--what sort of idiots would be out on a warm moonless night? Didn't they know the danger? Still, not even idiots deserved to be demon meat. She focused her darksight until she could see what was going on.

There were four or five travelers and some children being beset by demons. Two men and a woman were laying about themselves with swords, flintlocks, anything they had, trying to destroy the demons. Another woman crouched in the center of the triangle the others formed, with two children by her, maybe more-- the firelight in the center hurt Tala's eyes too much to look directly at it. The demons were ignoring the fighters, and heading straight for the children-- only logical, since they always preferred child-meat, when they could get it.

Tala shifted out of shadow form and flung the darts at the demons nearest the children. She yelled, "Don't fire! I'm here to help you!" The woman with the gun, panicking, almost fired anyway. Tala was used to this sort of thing-- to frightened travelers, a strange woman's voice coming out of the darkness could easily be another demon's. Human flintlocks could hurt Tala considerably more than they could hurt demons, however, so she needed to take immediate steps to keep the woman from hitting her. She flung another of the darts at the woman, striking the arm with the flintlock. Since the woman wasn't a demon, all this could do was sting and make her drop her gun. By that time, Tala had her blade out and had begun to slaughter the demons.

Even demons needed some light to see by. Tala didn't. She swept the blade in a circle, generating a sphere of darkness, and then popped it with the point. Every light-- even the fire, even the starlight-- was extinguished in a wide radius, encompassing Tala, the travelers, and the demons. The darkness that Tala brought extended to all other senses as well, and plunged travelers and demons both into a soundless, scentless, empty world. The only one left able to sense anything was Tala, with the darksight that was not exactly sight, sound, or anything else, but something combining aspects of all the senses it negated.

The demons, unable to see, smell, hear or even feel the ground under their feet, charged confusedly at where they thought Tala might conceivably be. Of course, since her darkvision was at its clearest, she saw them coming with no difficulty, and easily dispatched them. Her Lightbrother Haren would be horrified, she thought to herself, smiling. It was the ultimate in unfair fighting to kill things that were blind in all senses. But then, the concept of being fair to an enemy was a Light thing; to the Dark, if you’d decided to fight, you’d fight to win.

Disposing of the last of them, she wiped her sword clean and sheathed it. Instantly the light came back, and the fire's brilliance stabbed her eyes cruelly. Quickly she shifted her vision, dulling it so the light was not as painful.

"You-- who are you?" one of the men asked, staring at Tala with the usual surprise in his face. Dark-skinned people were a rarity this far north to begin with, and Tala was darker than any normal human these people could have met. Her features matched no known specific racial type, making her appearance somewhat unusual even if one overlooked her odd color. Then there was the fact that she was a woman, adventuring alone, at night, which while not exactly unheard-of was terribly rare. Add to that the fact that she had just decimated a troop of demons, and it was easy to understand why they were so leery of her. By now, Tala was used to it.

Her usual inclination was to disappear into the night and answer no questions, but she wanted to find out why precisely these people were out in the forest at night, with children, even. It seemed to her that either they were absolute idiots, or they were under some extreme form of pressure. And if it was some kind of pressure, it was Tala's duty to find out what, and deal with it if she could. So she put her hands up, and stepped into the firelight so that they could see she meant them no harm. "Tala par Kyleth, Darkchild, called the Dark Angel," she said. They all looked horrified, and cringed from her. The woman she'd struck dove for her gun again. Inside, Tala winced. Giving her parentname had probably not been the smartest thing she could have done. She had a brother and sister who were, to put it mildly, not nice people, and from the reaction to her name, she guessed these people had met one of them. Offhand, she would think Maru-- her Darkbrother was similar in appearance to her, had identical powers, and was obviously also a par Kyleth. Unlike Tala, however, he was sadistic and power-hungry, which generally translated into committing evil. Perhaps they had been chased out here by him?... But that didn't make any sense-- the worst place to go to escape a Darkchild would have to be a darkened forest at night. Sighing, Tala set herself to assuage their fears, never a task she was very good at. "I'm not going to hurt you," she said acerbically. "If I served evil, I'd've left you to the demons. Speaking of which, don't you know better than to go out on a moonless night, away from the city's wards? You could all have been demon meat."

The man who hadn't yet spoken said bitterly, "You speak as if we had a choice, Darkchild, but you must know better. You call yourself par Kyleth, and you wear our tormentor's face, but you pretend not to know our reasons for fleeing the City of Light. I ask you again, who are you?"

"I'm not your tormentor, that much you should know," she said. "Did he give his name as Maru par Kyleth, by any chance?"

"There's another of you?" one of the women asked, frightened. The other one was attempting to reach her gun. Tala sighed.

"Perhaps you should tell me why you left your city, and who the par Kyleth who's been bothering you is. I may be able to help." On the other hand, considering who she was beginning to suspect their tormentor was, perhaps not. She turned to the woman who had loaded her flintlock again. "And you can put that thing down," Tala told her. "I just defeated a score of demons. Do you think your weapons mean anything to me?" The truth was, Tala was quite human enough for the gun to have power over her. But when she had to reveal herself to people, she liked to project an otherworldly mystique. That way she wouldn't be asked unnecessary questions or feel compelled to answer such.

The woman put the flintlock down, but left it within easy reach, as the man said levelly, "We braved the possibility of demons to save our children from certain death, at the hand of a woman named Shien par Kyleth. A woman whose features are so like yours, except for her color, she could be your twin sister-- and whose parentname is the same as yours. And you tell me, Darkchild, you tell me you know nothing of this?"

So it was Shien, her Lightsister, after all. Tala had thought she knew Shien well, and the depths to which she would sink, but apparently she was wrong. If they were fleeing Shien, it did make sense to head into the night-- Shien was a Lightchild, and couldn't bear the darkness. But there were other aspects in which the story didn't make sense. Shocked, Tala said, "Shien, making human sacrifices? I don't disbelieve you, but—Shien draws her power from light, and human sacrifice is typically a practice of the dark.” Light was more than pleased to set its enemies on fire, but it generally justified itself by claiming its enemies were evil. Light loved the truth, but hated ambiguity and nuance. “I'd expect sacrifices out of my brother, but Shien? You have to tell me more. When did this happen?"

They all looked at Tala with hard eyes. "What's your connection to Shien par Kyleth, the Lightbringer?" the woman with the gun asked harshly.

She was Tala's twin sister-- that was why they looked so much alike-- but Tala didn't think it prudent to state that quite so bluntly. "She is... my mirror. Everything I am, she is not." This was, at best, an oversimplification-- they were quadruplets, and each of them had an opposite in sex, source of power and personality, but Tala was not about to complicate the situation by mentioning her brothers. "It's my job to stop her, if she's doing evil again. Tell me what she's doing, and I'll be able to help you."

They proceeded to tell her the following story:

Shien had set up her encampment in a glass city, a marvel constructed by wizardry, with a reflecting crystal dome over it. Since she had arrived, night had never fallen. Because she was weakened by the lack of sunlight, just as Tala was by its presence, her motive was obviously to create a place where there would always be sunlight. Of course, she could generate sunlight herself, as Tala could absorb light to create darkness, and from what the refugees told her, Tala guessed that that was exactly what she was doing-- but then, why was she sacrificing people?

The refugees informed Tala that Shien was choosing children to be sacrificed in secret, and that really seemed uncharacteristic. Shien had been known to make an example of people by burning them publicly, but it wasn't like her to do anything in secret. Why was she sacrificing the children? What did she have to gain? Or was she sacrificing them? Perhaps it was something else she was doing... but what?

“They don’t know,” one of the women said bitterly, of her fellow citizens. “They worship her. They call her the Lightbringer and they think she’s responsible for everything good, everything benevolent. When she began the child sacrifice, she was claiming that our former leaders were the ones letting demons into the city, to kill our children… which is nonsense. How could demons be getting into the city, when Shien par Kyleth never allowed it to be nighttime, and demons only travel at night? Why would the leaders we once followed before Shien came have any interest in doing such a thing? But they’re blind fools. They see that she’s beautiful and they see that she brings light and they won’t hear that she’s lying. They won’t believe there can be anything evil about her. She lies, and they believe it.”

That was especially odd. Shien was usually too arrogant to lie.

"Don't worry," Tala told them. "I'll lead you to a safe-house tonight. Tomorrow night I'll go to your city, and I'll free your people from Shien."

It was due to things like this that the legend of the Dark Angel tended to grow, despite all Tala's efforts to stay obscure.

***

In the heat and terrible light of the day, Tala slept in the forest, fitfully. She hated the summers-- they were too hot, and the days were far too long. Tala was too weak to travel much in daylight, but couldn't stay asleep all the hours of the summer day, leaving her to lie about weak and bored for the better part of the afternoon, able neither to sleep nor to continue her journey. As she rested in the trees' shade, she debated whether she should go to battle Shien, or if she should wait until she could talk to Haren. She was on her way home to the Place, anyway, and had been greatly looking forward to a chance to swap stories with her Lightbrother there, her ally in the service of humanity. Haren was maybe too focused on following rules, and fighting fair, and less on getting the job done, but his heart was in the right place and he strove, as she did, to protect and aid people. Maybe she should continue on home and drop this problem in his hands. As Shien's fellow Lightchild, possessing her powers, Haren was usually the one to fight her, as Tala was usually the one to fight Maru. And Tala really did not want to have to handle Shien all by herself.

She considered it further. Usually Shien and Haren battled in wide open places, where it didn't matter if they burned everything around. If they fought within an enclosed city, however, the chances were good that they would demolish it, and kill the people Haren had come to save. Light was a destroyer-- dark was far more passive. Dark could kill, but it killed cleanly and quietly-- light burned. Also, if Shien was performing human sacrifices, did Tala really have time to go get help?

No. No, she didn't. Shien's murder of children-- if she was in fact killing them-- could not be permitted to continue any longer than possible. With her powers, if Tala did defeat Shien, it would be a bloodless victory-- and although Shien could do quite a bit of damage to Tala, she couldn't actually kill her, not without disrupting the balance that gave them their power beyond repair, and perhaps killing herself and their brothers as well.

She had no choice-- she had to take on Shien herself.

When dusk fell, Tala par Kyleth got up and began heading for the city of Lumida.

***

Back when they were children, all the created children of the mage Kyleth were close, despite the usual sibling rivalries. In the Place, their father/mother's domain, where they were born and raised, there was neither night nor day, and so they could all sleep and wake at the same time. Maru and Tala played together a lot, due to the similarity of their temperaments, and Shien and Haren played together often as well. But the four of them played as a group, too. They had no idea, then, that they would split in the middle, becoming enemies.

In retrospect, she could see the seeds of what they became in the children they’d been. Maru was a silent, brooding boy who would explode in violence, a boy who enjoyed hunting and pulled the wings off bugs, and scaring people. And Shien was a spoiled brat who thought she was a princess, the most wonderful person in the world, and who threw tantrums when she didn't get her way. But they’d been children, then, and innocent, and although she'd loathed what Maru and Shien did sometimes, they were her siblings, and she'd loved them.

She didn't love them anymore.

But it seemed much more Maru's style to perform human sacrifices. Maru was the sadist, the one who enjoyed hurting people for its own sake; Shien simply wanted everyone to fall at her feet and worship her. When they didn't, then she hurt them. There was no reason Tala could think of why she should be sacrificing children. Also, Shien was generally not a liar. Tala lied to protect people and to protect secrets; Maru lied to hurt people; but Haren never lied, on principle, and Shien didn't lie because she couldn't be bothered. She was too arrogant, and also, Tala thought, like Haren, she believed there was something inherently wonderful about the Truth. Maybe there was, for a Lightchild whose existence was based on openness and brightness.

Shien sacrificing children in secrecy? Shien lying about it? Those were not consistent with her identity as the Light, and Tala couldn't see her motive. But those refugees had believed it, strongly enough that they’d fled into the darkness of the night, risking demon attack. And if Shien was really claiming that demons were stealing children away, when she had filled a city with light… obviously that had to be a lie. Demons needed darkness to operate.

But she would find out soon enough, she knew. Shien was no good at keeping secrets, either. Not from Tala, at any rate.

***

She reached Lumida in two nights. The city's glow lit up the forest for miles, at least to Tala's oversensitive eyes. In a city of such brilliant light, she would burn-- her skin was black, but it didn't protect her from the sun the way dark brown skin protected normal people. She could even be blinded. Once again, she thought of going for help-- Haren would be strengthened by this light.

But there was no time. She pulled the hood of her cloak to shadow her face as much as it could, and drew the clasps tight, so it fell around her body, protecting her arms and legs. Then she concentrated on swallowing the light.

When she was very young, Tala had intuitively understood that dark was the absence of light, the natural state of things and not truly an entity of itself. Her darkvision was the ability to perceive things in their natural state, without the illusions light could cast. Her ability to create a sphere of darkness was actually the ability to make a magical hole that sucked in all sensation. And she also possessed the power to swallow light into herself, negating it with the sheer vastness of the darkness within her. But the more light she absorbed, the more full with light she would become, and it would begin to corrode her very essence. Still, for a time the technique would protect her from being seared. So as she approached the city of light, she swallowed the light into herself. To those who saw her, she would have been a dark, fathomless nothingness-- they might have taken her for a shadow, if they didn't notice she moved on her own, or for an evil spirit.

The city of light was protected by burning slender beams placed across the entrances. They were powerful enough to burn their way through a human being. In her lighteating form, however, Tala's body absorbed them, and they did no damage to her.

There were plants everywhere in the city of light, dying plants brown and blackened. For a while, it seemed, the light had encouraged their growth, but eventually light had been true to its destructive nature and killed them. There was no shade-- the light was everywhere. It was blinding, brilliant enough to hurt even ordinary people's eyes. Tala was virtually blind to ordinary light, and her darkvision became more ineffective the more light there was. The pain the light caused her eyes was agonizing, even in her lighteating form. She intensified her light absorption until she could no longer see any light, and she could make full use of her darksight for vision. Even then, it was blurred and wavery.

There were replica-paintings and statues of Shien everywhere.

There was no sign that it was night outside the walls-- a large number of people were up and about. They wore sunglasses or shades, and many of them carried flowers, which they would lay down in front of the paintings and statues. She wondered if the light intensified during the true daytime, when Shien would have the sun to draw from. She also wondered where Shien was getting this kind of power from. Shien had the ability to turn night to day, if she so chose, but not for a whole night. The Lightchild drew her energy from sunlight-- as far as Tala knew, she could not possibly generate the full spectrum of daylight for the 8 hours or so of a summer night. She simply didn't have the strength. But from the refugees' reports, that was exactly what she was doing. How?

The longer Tala stayed here, the weaker she would become. She had to find and defeat Shien before she lost all her power. So she headed purposefully through the city, knowing Shien, with her ego, would be near the center.

The closer she came to the center, the more the light began to seem like a physical barrier, pressing her back. From her experience with physical barriers, Tala kept feeling that she could get through by shifting to her shadow form-- but rationally she knew that was suicide. Her shadow form was insubstantial-- she could pass through any solid object-- but light would burn it, and destroy her. Light was filling her, reaching the limits of her tolerance, and slowly she began to feel the burning begin, the closer she approached.

She decided not to put up with this. Maintaining secrecy would be of no use to her if she burned to death before she got where she was going. Shien, theoretically, had no more power than Tala-- though Shien could generate light, Tala could cause darkness. She drew her sword, so black it, too, swallowed light. Then she sliced it through the air, ripping the fabric of space to let out all the light. This made great patches of darkness. Swiftly the patches filled in again, but they were dimmer, as was all the light. She swung her sword in a circle, creating a sphere of darkness, and with the tip she popped the sphere. Light poured in, vanishing, along with all sensation, and there was total darkness.

Tala carried the darkness with her further, toward the center of the city. She entered a plaza, with a fountain in the center, and a palace of white marble and gold in front of her. Then there was a sudden gleam of light in the darkness she had made. It was all the warning she had-- she shifted from darksight to her weak normal vision, and yet the explosion of light that followed still blinded her for several seconds. She heard a familiar giggling, breaking the silence her darkness had brought, and when she could see again, Shien stood before her.

Anyone looking at them would have known instantly they were twins, or rather more than twins, since no ordinary twins could be colored as differently as were Shien and Tala par Kyleth. They were not tall, nor built to look strong, nor did they have the large breasts and hips thought to be beautiful among human women in this part of the world. Their eyes were almond-shaped, and a deep hazel. These provided the only color in Shien's pale face, and the only light spot in Tala's dark one. Both had long hair-- Shien's white and fine, much finer than Tala's coarse black hair, but the same length. Both seemed somehow otherworldly, and neither precisely fit any known racial category, but despite the fact that they were identically featured and identically built, Shien was usually thought to be far more delicate and ethereal, even more beautiful, than dark Tala, probably due to the fact that all the fragile noble beauties were pale, here in the north.

Tala had never seen herself-- her darksight was not reflected in mirrors, and her normal vision was too weak. All throughout her childhood, she had used Shien as her pale mirror. Viewing Shien as like herself, she had never fallen for Shien's illusion of fragility, and had always known that, however she might appear to normal people, Shien was not delicate, not fragile, in the slightest. Her powers had far more purely destructive potential than Tala's, and so it could perhaps have been said that she was stronger.

But she wasn't supposed to be stronger in any real sense-- Shien and Tala were supposed to have exactly the same amount of energy to draw on, and so Tala was shocked. After this kind of output of energy, Shien ought to be utterly drained. Tala should be able to defeat her with ease. But here she was, giggling-- and that meant that somehow, she had access to more power than Tala did.

Tala began to be truly afraid.

"I'm so pleased to see you, Tala! Such a surprise! You should have told me you were dropping by; I could have arranged so many things for us to do together!"

"The balance must be restored, Shien," Tala said quietly.

Shien looked irritated. "What can't you Darkchildren ever come out and say what you mean? Don't spout that nonsense about balance; I've been hearing more than I want to from Kyleth."

Kyleth? Tala thought, surprised. Kyleth was the mage who created them all, their father/mother. Haren and Tala had always assumed that Kyleth was on their side, and had broken contact with their twins, since Maru and Shien had become dedicated to fulfilling their worst desires regardless of cost. She hid her surprise. "Why are you sacrificing children?"

Shien looked startled. "Who told you that?"

Tala smiled. "I thought that would get a reaction out of you. Something else is killing those children, or making them disappear. What are you really doing?"

Shien's laugh was chilling. "Oh, no, no, you've misunderstood me," she said sweetly. "I certainly am killing the children-- I just wondered who told you. I tell my people it’s the demons snatching them away, and if I increase the light, the demons will flee… and they all believe me!” She giggled again. “So I’m very surprised that any of them figured out it was me!”

Tala told herself silently that darkness was calm, darkness was cold. To rage, to burn, was to play into light's hands. So she stared her sister down coldly and asked, "Why?"

"Did Kyleth ever teach you any of the Life Magics?"

"Did Kyleth teach you?" The prospect filled her with fear and unease. Kyleth was a Duality Magician, drawing power from the tension of opposites. The Life Magics were properly called the Magics of Life and Death, and were an integral part of Duality Magic. She could see no reason why Kyleth would teach them to Shien-- they were deadly, powerful magics, and Kyleth was on her side. Her fear intensified as Shien smiled, and answered.

"You sound so shocked at the prospect, dear sister. Yes, in fact Kyleth has taught me the Life Magics-- which should really be called Death Magics if you have to use a short form, actually. I've learned how to use the power of murder to increase my power. Why are you so surprised? Kyleth always loved me the most, you know. Always."

Tala's mouth was dry. "I don't believe you. Kyleth's on our side. The side of good. Kyleth would never--"

"Are you really so sure?" Shien giggled. “You’re so ridiculous. ‘Good’ and ‘Evil’ like those are actually sides. I expect that kind of talk from Haren, but I thought you were smarter than that.”

Suddenly light blasted her. Tala had been steadily darkening the area-- but now the light returned, burning, destroying her. She screamed, and flung up her sword, enveloping herself in blessed darkness-- but the light intensified, reaching in deeper and deeper. She clung to the sword for life itself, trying to summon all the darkness she could-- to no avail. Weak beyond the ability to stand, she collapsed to the ground. Terror whipped at her, and she understood that if Shien continued, she would die.

But that would disrupt the fragile balance that kept them all alive, and apparently Shien knew better to do that. She stopped, and regarded her helpless sister with a self-satisfied smile on her face.

"Was I ever so much more powerful than you before, Tala?" she said. "I get my new power from the energy of life. Sunlight is energy, after all. Weakness is all right for darkness, but light is the source of all energy-- light should always be strong. So." She clasped her hands in front of her. "The life of a child is filled with so much potential. When I kill a child, I acquire that potential and transmute it into light. For every night my sunshine burns, someone dies." At Tala's expression, she giggled again. "Does that really bother you so much, Tala? But listen! Life feeds on life. Children die, but I thrive. Who's to say a human's life is worth more than mine?"

Kyleth, Tala thought bitterly, tears stinging her face. Her mother, her father, her creator-- she'd always assumed, because Kyleth helped her and Haren against their twins, that Kyleth supported her side. She should have known better.

Haren had once asked Kyleth, a long time ago, why Kyleth had created him and Tala if it meant unleashing the evil two. Kyleth had replied, "You persist in thinking I'm good, Haren. I'll tell you what I told the city council-- just because I don't seek to kill and enslave everybody doesn't mean I'm nice. Good and evil are social constructs, and they change depending on your point of view. I��m not some sort of ‘good’ mage. I'm duality."

To Tala, Kyleth had said privately that the issue wasn’t honestly of good and evil at all. Kyleth had intended to create children of opposite sexes and opposite sources of power. The fact that it had worked out that two of them wanted to be heroes and save people, and two of them wanted to be selfish monsters… that was an accidental side effect of Duality Magic, most likely.

She should have known Kyleth couldn't solely support her side, the righteous side-- Kyleth was far too complicated to do that. But why, why had Kyleth given an advantage to Shien? The one thing they could always be sure of, when they were children, was that Kyleth was always fair, incapable of favoring one of them over another. The balance had to be maintained.

So why had Kyleth given Shien such a tremendous advantage? The only explanation Tala could think of ripped her to shreds inside. Kyleth was a mage, dedicated to duality, but Kyleth was also a human being and a parent-- and what if the parent did love Shien more?

"How?" she asked weakly. "You can't store energy..."

Shien giggled. "That's right. I can't. But this city was built to be the City of Light. There are banks and banks of crystals for storing light." She flung out her hand in an expansive gesture. "I don't know how they work, exactly, but I can store the energy of life in them, as brilliant sunlight. Would you like to watch me do it?"

"Shien. No!!" All the blood drained from Tala's face, and she felt suddenly sick and dizzy with rage and helplessness. She tried to summon the power to stop her sister, but Shien blasted her with light again, and she lost consciousness.

***

When she woke up, she was in a vast chamber full of glowing cubes of light. She was bound to a pillar, in shadow-- obviously Shien wanted her alive and mostly unhurt. But the light just around her was brilliant enough to give her pain, far too brilliant for her to risk shifting to her shadow form and escaping.

In the brightness, she could barely make out the form of Shien. "Do you always sleep so late? It's time for me to renew my light, and you nearly missed it. And that would have been such a shame, wouldn't it?" The light faded, just a little, until Tala could see a little boy, staring mesmerized at Shien, in between the glowing storage cells.

Dark must maintain control, Tala told herself. She held her tongue as Shien, gloating, began the ritual. There had to be a way to defeat her. Kyleth's actions never had just one result. The balance needed to be restored.

Balance-- balance! she thought suddenly. She hadn't the power to simply break free and save the little boy-- and if she did, Shien would just kill another. But if Shien could draw energy from death... everything was balance. It took energy both to take a life, and to save it. Therefore, there had to be a way to gain energy, or at least an advantage, from saving a life...

When Shien linked the boy to the crystals, Tala enveloped him with her mind and her darkness. Not so deeply as to quiet his heart and kill him, but enough that the searing light Shien poured upon him didn't harm him. Unreplenished, their light bleeding away into Tala's darkness, the light cells shut down. All went dark-- a blessed balm to Tala after the burning light. She slipped into her shadow form, came free of her bonds, and attacked Shien.

Without the stored energy of light to give her power, Shien had only as much strength as Tala-- and after so long in the light, she couldn't readjust her eyes even to dimness, let alone the darkness Tala saw best in. Shien fought back with flares of light, but Tala grabbed her and enveloped her with darkness, swallowing her light, until she felt her sister turn limp.

As he came free of Shien's spell, the boy began to scream. "It's dark! Mommy, mommy, I'm scared, it's dark..."

"I'll bring you to your mommy," Tala told him. "Take the hem of my cloak and follow me." She put the hem into his hand, and carried Shien outside, walking slowly enough that the boy holding her cloak could keep up.

For the first time in weeks, it was nighttime in the City of Light; but the people were thrown into panic and terror, not realizing that their tormentor had been overthrown. Most not even realizing she had been their tormentor at all. Maybe the refugees had been the only ones to know the truth, and all the rest mistakenly believed Shien to be their savior. To them, Tala supposed, the death of the light must mean something terrible must be in store. It was a thankless job, being an angel of darkness.

She led the boy to his family, who were overjoyed, and she told them the truth about the darkness. "This is the natural nighttime of the world,” she said. “Shien par Kyleth, the Lightbringer, is gone."

Dark could hide and dark could blur. They didn’t recognize the woman Tala carried in her arms, because Tala’s magic blocked the clarity of recognition. Yet it was the power of Light that had tricked all of these people, making them believe a woman who murdered their children was a benevolent and caring ruler even as the light had brought famine and the children had continued to vanish.

They wailed in grief, believing Shien was dead.

Would it could be that simple.

She went outside and carried Shien until her arms were too weary to continue. She laid her sister down under a tree, and made a web of dark confusion about her, to sink into her sleeping brain so that she could never find her way back to Lumida. The web would also keep demons and other creatures of the night from finding her.

Tala looked down at Shien's beautiful pale face. It would be so much easier if she could kill her. How many more people would burn, because she let Shien live? But to destroy her would upset the balance, and would probably destroy Tala and her brothers. Perhaps that was the solution-- perhaps Tala and Haren should willingly yield themselves to death, and take their evil twins with them-- but Tala, for one, was not yet willing to die. There were other ways to deal with Shien and Maru. There had to be.

She was still furious with Kyleth, for teaching Shien the Life Magics. She knew now that Kyleth had been seeking balance yet again; just as Shien had learned to draw power from death, Tala would learn to draw power from life. There would be no unfair advantage. But she didn't feel it was necessary to escalate the battle in such a way. And now she knew consciously, as she'd always known deep in her heart but never wished to acknowledge, that Kyleth was not on her "side." Kyleth would help her enemies as much as her. It was a bitter thing to know, of her only parent.

Tala turned and headed home, less eager than she had been.

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

I originally wrote this in 1989, revised in 1991, and revised again recently. The original concept was to lampshade the idea of Good and Evil as forces being connected to Light and Dark. In the recent revision I have tried to remove the concept of Good and Evil being forces rather than personality traits, entirely. I still like the idea of a hero who represents darkness and a villain who represents light.

In the earlier versions, the people were well aware that Shien was sacrificing their children, but were beaten down and couldn’t fight back. The latest version where the people are taken in entirely by pretty lies told by someone they look up to is very, very recent. Gee, I wonder what I could have been thinking of. /s

I’m also still fond of technological advancement in fantasy stories being greater than traditional quasi-European medieval sword and sorcery, but not necessarily identical to the tech levels of today, either.

#52 Project #fantasy #light and darkness

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sie-werden-nie-vergessen · 3 years

Text

“Ruth and Ephraim as a couple” headcanons/AU, ft “Sarah in Boston”

@shapeshiftersandfire, so here it is. I finished way earlier than I anticipated, but I just started typing and here it is!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=muFFeiBUffQ (this song is required listening when reading these headcanons. It IS Ephraim and Ruth’s theme song. I recommend starting it at 3:14 because that point of the song is the section that really gives me Ruth and Ephraim vibes)

First off, there is SO much covert flirting. SO, SO MUCH FLIRTING.

Ephraim is definitely having an identity crisis on the way home after the card game.

He gets home and Deodat asks him how the party went and he just kind of stands there like an oaf.

“It went fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“No Yes”

“...okay”

Deodat doesn’t believe him but he assumes that maybe Ephraim was just rejected by a date or something. Little does he know…..

“Fire Meet Gasoline” is a very good analogy to their relationship.

Because not only would it be passionate

But their relationship would probably also develop very quickly

They wouldn’t rush things, per se, but the “crush” phase is definitely very short for them

They’re both very outspoken and confident, so they very quickly open up about their feelings rather than beating around the bush.

They’re both very passionate people in terms of personality, and even when Ephraim is open-minded enough to fall for Ruth, they still inevitably clash with their opinions

They don’t fight but they definitely debate.

But in a healthy way. The debates can get heated but not in a hostile way. They’re just both very opinionated and they get very passionate about their opinions and their different thought processes.

“I know I’m right!” “Yeah well I know that I”M right!” “Well I think I’m right because xyz” “Well my reasons are abc” “...that’s a good point. But I’m still right ;)”

So it probably looks like arguing to some people, but they both know that it’s all in good humor so neither Ephraim or Ruth are actually hurt by it or anything

They actually think it’s a good source of entertainment.

They once got into a heated debate about the correct color of socks in the middle of the new Mill Valley department store just to see the reactions of the cashiers

The aforementioned cashiers were horrified

Ephraim was arguing in favor of brown socks, and Ruth in favor of gray.

They ended up buying both colors.

Ruth now buys him brown and gray socks for a gag gift every Christmas (were gag gifts a thing in 1898? No clue, but I like the idea so I’m running with it and not researching something for once).

Ephraim keeps her a secret for a long time, for obvious reasons.

Ruth doesn’t mind this because she understands his reasoning behind it.

She takes it as an opportunity to introduce him to her family and friends.

Ephraim gets along great with her brother Charles, and almost immediately the “future brother in law” jokes start.

Ruth is surprisingly embarrassed by this.

Ephraim teases her for days about that fact.

“Finally! I finally found something that embarrasses you!”

Ephraim goes to her performances and cheers her on (he always brings a bouquet too)

He sits in the front row right at the bottom of the stage and claps the loudest when she comes on stage.

Ruth is big into theatrics and has an entire setup of smoke cannons and mood lighting that announce her entrance.

She steps into this cloud of smoke and raises her arms dramatically and announces herself

Ruth loves to wear the color red because it looks so striking against her pale skin, but she secretly loves lighter shades of blue even more (they just don’t give off very strong “mystical” vibes, so she sticks to dark reds when she’s in the spotlight)

She works as a fortune teller and does card tricks as well

She loves to hear the ridiculous rumors and urban legends surrounding the “mystical powers” of albinos and then she incorporates that into her routine

“ALBINOS CAN READ MINDS” okay, well now she does mind reading as a new trick

In reality she’s just a very analytical person so it’s easy for her to pick up on small body language or vocal cues

Ephraim always asks her to tell him her fortune and it inevitably turns into some sappy “well I think you’ll end up marrying an amazing circus performer who just so happens to also be the most beautiful woman in Pennsylvania” thing

Ephraim definitely agrees with her “fortune”

He tells her about Sarah pretty early on in the relationship. He doesn’t want to hide anything from her.

He isn’t sure how she’ll take it, especially considering the fact that he was complacent in Sarah’s abuse for years until he really got out into the world and realized that everything he “knew” about albinism was wrong.

Ruth is definitely shocked but she assures him that he’s not some sort of monster, because he realized that what his parents trained him to think was wrong and he was able to grow from that.

One day when the rest of the family is out, Ephraim sneaks Ruth into the mansion (with the help of Sylvie and Lou Lou, of course) and she goes down to the cellar to meet Sarah.

Sarah is absolutely floored that there are others like her.

Of course she knew, because Ephraim told her when he returned from college and made amends, but when she sees it infront of her eyes it’s still a shock.

Ruth and Sarah hit it off instantly, of course.

Ruth promises to take Sarah to see a circus someday

Sarah can’t wait to see the elephants.

A few days after the secret meeting, Ephraim decides to tell his family about Ruth.

He tells Harold, thinking that maybe Harold would understand

But Harold just rats him out to Deodat and Delanie

They’re furious, of course

They don’t tell Gertrude because they claim that it would give her a heart attack

And tbh, it might

Gertrude figures it out anyways from the deranged yelling that comes from downstairs

“After all we’ve done to hide Sarah, and now you do THIS?!!”

“Mother, there’s nothing wrong with her.”

“She’s a circus freak!”

“By choice. She enjoys working in sideshows. That doesn’t make her a bad person.”

“Are you sure she isn’t just trying to mooch off of OUR money?!”

“She’s very wealthy, Mother. She works because she enjoys it.”

Deodat has more or less the same reaction.

Harold just can’t believe that Ephraim would “betray” the family in that way.

Ephraim tells Ruth the next day, and they decide to take Sarah away and leave for Boston.

Charles helps with the legal side of things, and pulls a few strings with his lawyer friends in Pennsylvania to have Sarah legally emancipated from her parents.

The trio moves to Boston and temporarily lives with Charles and his wife Louisa.

Louisa is smitten with Sarah from the start and insists on baking her ridiculous amounts of gingerbread.

(For no reason, really, but Louisa just has a thing for gingerbread. Sarah doesn’t complain)

Sarah gains quite a lot of weight in those first few months, and for the first time in her life she weighs a healthy amount.

Ruth takes her clothes shopping often, and she insists on buying Sarah the nicest and newest fashions (even though she grows out of them so quickly now. It’s as if 18 years of growing have finally caught up with her at once).

Sarah hugs Ephraim for the first time after she and Ruth return from their first major shopping trip. Ephraim almost cries, and Ruth grins so hard that her face hurts.

Ephraim wasn’t sure if Sarah could ever forgive him, but that was proof enough for him.

Ruth gives Sarah her first diamond necklace. It’s the one that Ruth wore the day she met Sarah. Sarah had said that it was the prettiest thing that she had ever seen, and Ruth saved it for her until they reached Boston. It was an informal adoption gift, really.

Ephraim and Ruth eventually buy a nice brownstone in Boston. It’s a few streets away from Charles and Louisa’s home, and there’s a large park across the street.

Sarah loves to sit in the park and watch the swans and ducks on the pond.

Sometimes Ruth and Ephraim go with her, but a lot of the time they let her go alone. They know that she’s been through a lot, and that sometimes she needs time alone to process everything.

Sometimes she comes back with tears in her eyes, but no one mentions it. Ruth brings her a cup of tea or a piece of gingerbread (Louisa is always sending over fresh gingerbread) and offers her a shoulder to cry on, if she needs it.

Ruth takes Sarah to meet her fellow albino circus performers. For once in her life, Sarah feels truly accepted and understood when she stands in a room surrounded by people like her.

There are so many children in the room, and they’re all so loved by their family members, regardless of their albinism. It makes Sarah sad at first, but she’s also happy to see that they were raised in loving households instead of abusive and hateful ones.

For their first Christmas together in Boston, Ephraim buys Sarah a Kodak No. 2 Bullseye Camera. When the first Kodak Brownie camera is released a few years later in 1900, he buys her one of those as well.

He tells her that she can use it to document her new life in Boston.

The first picture she takes is a picture of a sleeping Ephraim.

He’s sitting in an armchair next to the Christmas tree, surrounded by wrapping paper and plates of half finished cookies.

Once the picture is developed, she puts it in her new photo album that Charles and Louisa gave to her.

When Ephraim woke up, Sarah asked to take a picture with him.

Of course he obliged.

She keeps that one in a frame by her bedside.

Sarah has a whole pile of her “treasures” that she keeps beside her bed, but that picture is at the center of it all.

Ephraim notices it one time when he’s helping Ruth collect the laundry, and it touches him more than he can say.

For her gift, Ruth arranges for Sarah to take some writing classes at the local women’s college.

Sarah is thrilled. She starts to write stories other than horror.

She still loves scary stories, but she finds a new love for children’s stories and romance novels.

Little Women is her favorite (Ruth is delighted! It was her favorite book too!)

In 1900 Ruth and Ephraim have a son. They name him Eli, in reference to Sarah’s middle name (Elizabeth).

Sarah is the proudest aunt you’ve ever seen.

Ephraim and Ruth go on to have more children, but Sarah has a special bond with little Eli. He is the first baby that she ever held.

The odd little family on Pearl Street is probably the happiest family you’ll ever see.

Sarah eventually marries the son of one of Ruth’s circus colleagues.

His name is Thomas, and he’s a quiet man.

He loves birds too, just like Sarah.

He and Sarah go bird watching often.

They go on to have a large family. 2 out of the 5 children have albinism, but they love all of their children the same.

They live a long life.

Neither Ephraim, Ruth, or Sarah ever return to Mill Valley. They’re more than happy to let the past remain in the past.

Bonus: Harold In Boston Headcanons/AU

Once Ephraim does reach out to Harold, and he’s surprised to learn that Harold has also distanced himself from their parents.

Gertrude died in 1899, and shortly after that Harold’s fiancée Violet died of tuberculosis. With his ties to Mill Valley significantly loosened, Harold took an extended business trip to Philadelphia where he eventually opened his own publishing company. After the mercury scandal at the mill, Deodat and Delanie are essentially ruined and Harold is free to pursue his own interests independent of the mill.

He goes to visit Ephraim in 1900 to congratulate him on the birth of his son.

It’s tense at first, when he see’s Sarah. He isn’t sure how she’ll react to him.

She’s wearing a white lace dress with small puffs at the sleeves, and pale blue ribbons at the cuffs and waist of the skirt.

Her hair is in a soft gibson girl-esque style, and Harold realizes that it’s the first time he’s ever seen her in anything other than the old gown she always wore back in Pennsylvania.

“Hello Sarah”

“Hello Harold”

He isn’t sure what to do at first, but Ruth quickly introduces herself to abate the awkward silence.

He’s never met Ruth, but he quickly understands why Ephraim likes her so much.

After he meets the baby and pleasantries are exchanged, he wanders off into one of the upstairs rooms of the home.

(Sarah left the room once Ruth brought out the baby. She loves Eli, but she feels awkward being everyone all at once, as if she’s intruding on something she isn’t, of course).

He accidentally goes into Sarah’s room, only to find her at her desk writing.

Her room is nothing like the dark basement she used to call home, and Harold is thankful for that.

“So, you still write?”

Sarah jumps in her chair a little, before suddenly whipping around. She’s still not good with loud or sudden noises, even after 3 years of safety.

Harold cringes when she jumps. He hates that he still scares her.

When she composes herself, she smiles a small smile. “Yes, I still write.”

Harold asks what she writes about these days, and she tells him that she writes children’s stories.

It’s a sad irony, considering the mercury scandal, but Harold doesn’t tell her about that yet.

She had left Mill Valley before the worst of it, and he knows how much she loved those children.

After they talk for a while, Sarah eventually invites him to sit with her.

They sit side by side on her bed and she shows him her notebooks.

He’s surprised by how much she’s grown since he last saw her. She’s a little taller now, and she’s gained a lot of weight. Her face isn’t hollow anymore, and her eyes are bright now. Her hair is shiny and thick, and she truly looks happy.

She only shakes a little when he’s so close to her. Harold still scares her a little, but Ephraim promised her that no one would ever hurt her again.

Sarah trusts Ephraim immensely, so she’s willing to trust Harold too

Still, it’s a little hard for her to have him in such close proximity.

Harold notices her discomfort and moves a few inches away (still close enough to see her notebooks, but far enough that it gives Sarah a safe buffer). Her nerves calm down once she has a “safe zone.”

Harold finally works up the nerve to say something.

“Sarah, I-”

“I know. Ephraim told me.”

“He did?”

“He did”

“Well...that’s...that’s good.”

The next thing that Sarah does shocks Harold to his core.

She reaches out, her hands shaking, and grabs his hand.

“I know that you didn’t mean it - what you did to me -...not really, anyways. I know you’re different now.”

Harold squeezes her hand in return, and she stops shaking.

“Thank you”

Sarah smiles

“Of course”

Ephraim happens to pass Sarah’s bedroom on his way upstairs and nearly dies of shock at the site of them. Harold doesn’t notice Ephraim, but Sarah does.

She bursts out laughing, because Ephraim genuinely looks horrified, shocked, and immensely confused.

“He said that he was sorry!,” she explained in a half yell in Ephraim’s direction.

Ephraim is still in shock, so he doesn’t say anything.

Harold is also in shock, but because of Sarah’s laugh.

The man genuinely didn’t think that it was possible, and yet here she was laughing.

When everyone recovers from their respective shocks, Harold is invited to stay for dinner.

This dinner invitation turns into a long term stay, and eventually Harold moves his business to Boston.

He buys the brownstone next to Ephraim and Ruth’s home.

He remains a bachelor all his life, never having truly recovered from Violet’s death.

Harold definitely earns the title of “World’s Greatest Uncle” in regards to Sarah and Thomas’ children.

By 1980 the neighborhood block is so full of Bellows descendants that it’s unofficially renamed Bellows Square

Ruth and Ephraim’s house becomes a local historic landmark, considering the fact that Ephraim went on to become one of the country’s early geneticists who (humanely) studied genetic disorders and medical conditions.

The house later becomes a museum in the early 90s, having been restored to the same state that it was when they once resided in it.

Sarah’s Kodak No. 2 Bullseye is put on display, but the crowning achievement is her collection of photo albums and notebooks. She went on to become a children’s writer and illustrator, basing many of her books on her experiences in Boston.

The old Bellows Paper Mill is torn down in 1948 to make room for new housing following the G.I. Bill and the post-war Baby Boom.

None of the surviving Bellows are sad to see it go.

#ephraim bellows #sarah bellows #ruth vedette #headcanons #au #ruth is my own character #harold bellows

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automatismoateo · 3 years

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Why I left my religion and how it changed my life via /r/atheism

Submitted April 23, 2021 at 09:01AM by Iamnameless_ (Via reddit https://ift.tt/3gzpZxk) Why I left my religion and how it changed my life

I have tried for years to put what I went through into words or to make sense of it, but no matter how hard I try I can never paint a full picture of how awful It felt to be born a girl in a Muslim household.

This is for the many little girls out there who feel what I’ve felt. Who spend their nights crying and feeling lonely, scared and trapped. This is a success story and I hope that it will bring hope to you.

Before I begin, i would like to state that there is a difference between Islam and the culture around it. The problem isn’t Islam nor is it the religion itself. It is the toxic culture that has been built around it by muslims and the hidden truths that women are too scared to reveal.

I grew up in a Muslim household in a western country. My parents were extremely religious - to the point where it was extreme.

My father abused my mother my entire life and in return she took out it out on us. Now of course, not all Muslim men are abusive, although it is easy to get away with and not exactly frowned upon. My father was never involved in our lives, he didn’t know our birthdays or anything about us really. My mother had the obligation to take care of us, she would spend all day cooking and cleaning and dealing with the abuse. She became numb, empty and trapped. Consequently, she became even more religious, trying to convince herself that her sacrifices and her pains were going to be rewarded by god. She became so afraid of my father punishing her for our behaviour that she also became toxically controlling.

I could go on for days and write shocking and horrifying things, but I need to protect myself and I’m also not ready to reveal everything I went through because to be quite honest, I find it humiliating and it makes me cringe (even anonymously).

My parents always told us stories about how woman that didn’t obey the rules of Islam were killed. They would go in specific detail and give us examples and names. We grew up in fear and we were taught that girls basically had no rights, they had to do everything their parents said until they got married and then their husband would tell them what to do. My brother was free as bird. He could do anything he wanted.

My mother would make me clean the house and do the dishes while my brother just sat there playing video games. Whenever I would ask why I had to do it and not him, she would answer “because you’re a girl”. I must’ve heard that sentence a billion times and each time she repeated it, I hated her even more.

When I was about 6 years old, my mother came to pick me up from school and as we were leaving my biggest fear at the time occurred — a boy in my class said goodbye to me. My mother became furious. She told me that I was never allowed to be friends with boys and looked at me with such disgust as If I had done something awful. She told me that in our religion and culture, girls are not allowed to be friends with boys. I didn’t understand what was going on, but I developed terrible anxiety from that behaviour. Every time that my mother would pick me up from school, my palms would become sweaty, my heart would race and all I would feel is fear. It seems to ridiculous and almost funny to write, but at the time it was a genuinely scary thing.

When I was about 8, we went to a park with some family. I layed down in the grass and my mother came to me and grabbed me by the arm violently and told me that girls aren’t allowed to “lie down” infront of men (who I was related to). Again, it was confusing but she had this way of speaking to me and looking at me that made me fear her and do everything she said.

When I was 11, my breasts started to develop very rapidly. All of the sudden, I was becoming a woman. I was forbidden from wearing shirts that didn’t cover up my entire upper body. It felt unfair and wrong. I didn’t understand why my body (that I didn’t chose) was causing so much uproar. I wanted to play, to be free, to wear comfortable clothing. I didn’t even understand sex, I was a child, yet sex (or the fear of it) was the premise of my life. It was who I was, it was everything I did. My parents based my entire existence on sex.

We had a family friend who had a daughter my age. She was born with one of her Fallopian tubes twisted and as she got older the pain was so awful that she would scream in anguish. The girls mother refused the simple surgery that could stop her pain because the doctor had to enter through her vagina and cut her hymen to do the procedure. I overheard my mother saying that she shouldn’t get the surgery because what if one day she gets married and her husband doubts her virginity. It absolutely shattered my heart and changed my view on Islam forever.

Around that age, I got my first period. I was absolutely terrified to tell my mother about it. It was only after the second time that it happened that I had the guts to tell her. She was extremely uncomfortable and didn’t look at me. She didn’t explain what was happening and she made me feel dirty and disgusting. After that, things got worse and worse.

I went to high school and suddenly it all hit me in the face. I understood my entire life. I understood that I had been taught none sense and lies. I understood that I had been mentally abused. I understood that i was going nowhere with the life I had. I became angry, heavily depressed and suicidal.

I wasn’t allowed to have a social life and I wasn’t allowed to wear tight or “revealing” clothes. I had to be home after school on the dot. Literally, my mom would wait at the door for me and if I was even a minute late she would scream at me as I walked in. Like genuinely yell at me for being 5 minutes late and accuse me of being with boys and doing bad things and lying. It was traumatizing, since I was always telling the truth (at least then). Every single day, I would hop off the bus and run home. And then I would fight with my mother over non existant boys and cry all night long- and repeat. This went on pretty much my entire adolescence and I lost my fucking mind. I can’t even begin to explain the pain. I just didn’t want to live. School kept me going, I had good grades, greats friends and I just loved it. But I had an awful secret and I never said a word about it. Every night I would get on my knees and pray to a god that I didn’t believe in and that I hated, that I would die. I just couldn’t imagine getting out of my situation.

I looked up things online a couple of times, wondering if I was the only one going through this and I was shocked to see that it was common. When I was 16, I tried to kill myself. I woke up one morning and I felt absolutely nothing it was like I was already dead. I couldn’t handle it anymore, I was alone. Nobody could see, nobody could tell and this was my life forever. I ended up at the hospital and lived but I couldn’t care less. I told the nurses that I didn’t want to see my family and I was taken to a psych ward where I stayed for a few days. I felt peace for the first time in my life. I was all alone but I was free (ironically I was locked up in a hospital room). When they asked me why I did it I couldn’t get the words out so I was very vague. My mother and brother came to visit me and although they were crying, the first thing she said to me was “how could you do this to us and to your father” and that this was haram and that I needed to pray to god and everything would be ok. I tried telling her that I couldn’t live like this anymore but I was too afraid to say that I fucking hated god and that I felt more oppressed than a dog. So when the doctors asked me if I felt better and if I wanted to leave I said yes and I guess they just assumed I was a stupid teenage girl. I went back home and things were a little different for a few days but then and it got bad again.

That’s when my entire life changed. I tried dying and it didn’t work. So now I had nothing to lose, it was either die or die trying. I became rebellious, started talking back, starting talking to boys, starting hanging out with friends after school and lying about it and wearing clothes and changing them after leaving the house. I realized that whether I did or I didn’t, I was going to get yelled at and since I was a “girl” I couldn’t be trusted, so I decided to make it worth something. I wasn’t scared of my parents anymore because I realized that they were just people- like me. And that they were sad and miserable so I made it my goal to not end up like that. I decided I was going to leave home at 18.

After my suicide attempt, I had to see a social worker once a week. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. I never told her what was going on at home specifically because I was embarrassed, scared and in-denial. But I opened up to her in small ways and spoke about the way my mother treated me in general and it opened up my eyes little by little. I realized that I was never the problem. I realized that I was a child. I realized that parents can be bad and wrong. I realized that my home life was abnormal and toxic. I realized that my mother was a victim, that she was an abused woman trying to cope by “protecting” her children and feeling important. I realized that my father was weak. That he was a coward all along and that he needed to feel strong by asserting his dominance. But most importantly, I realized that I was so much more than I was taught I was - I was smart, I was strong and I was a person not just an object for men’s pleasure.

At 18, my mother began to suspect my secret life. She came into my room and told me that girls who do bad things in Islam get killed. And for the first time, I wasn’t scared. I could see how weak she felt and how scared she was. And so one day I went to school, I took the bus back home and a few stops before my house, I thought to myself “oh wow I can’t do it anymore”. So I got off and I went to a friends house and I didn’t go home that night. My parents called, texted, found me on all social media, contacted my friends, sent out threatening texts... A part of me was absolutely terrified that they would find me and do something bad. But the other part of me couldn’t get enough of the freedom and the air. I went to school the next day and told a counsellor and the police everything. I didn’t want to get my parents in trouble, in fact I felt really terrible and selfish. I told the cops that I didn’t get any real threats and that I didn’t want to file a report or anything, but that I just wanted this on record in case anything ever happened to me.

At first, they would send me abusive terrible texts everyday. About how I’m terrible, disgusting, selfish, that god hates me, that I will burn in hell, that I’ve ruined their lives and their honour. And then afterwards they would beg me to come home and tell me they love me. But then they would text me that I’m weak, that I couldn’t handle gods words, that I was a sinner. And then that they loved me and just wanted me back and that we could go back to normal. And then again, I’m ungrateful, I’m dumb, i gave into tentations, I’m a whore.

I didn’t see my parents for a year. They contacted me non stop, begging me to come visit so that the rest of our family wouldn’t notice I left home. They stopped inviting people over so that they wouldn’t ask questions. They told me that if I’m seen with a boy or wearing revealing clothes their lives would be over and they begged me to not do so for them.

I spent the entire year healing my wounds, my trauma and working on myself. I moved into a studio apartment and worked part time while being a full time student. I got a student loan that allowed me to live, i didn’t have much but I had never ever in my entire life felt so happy. I felt like I was on top of the world, I could do anything and be anything. (I had an incredible support system during this period and I was followed by a specialist. I got help and opened up to people. It was difficult, a process and alot of hard work. Without all that I don’t think this would’ve been a success story).

At 19, I met my parents in a cafe out of guilt. I felt sorry for them but I just didn’t feel love. They told me that they accept who I am but the only thing they ask is that I come back into their lives and that I hide this part of my life to the family and friends and that I visit every now and then so that nobody suspects anything. Obviously, growing up in the culture I knew how bad things would be for them and I understood. I saw them a couple of times here and then but I never felt like myself when I was there. I guess I did it for them and because I just felt awful that I had to ruin their lives to make mine better. But as I said, it was death or this. It just was never who I was meant to be.

Today I am happy and so grateful for everything I have and everything I went through. I would never ever change my past or my childhood because it made me into somebody I love and it took a long time to get here. I learned that pain can be worth something and it can be beautiful once it’s overcome. More importantly, I learned that as a girl I am strong and resilient. That I can handle so much more than I thought and that I can achieve anything or even more than what a man can.

I’m fortunate, privileged and lucky. My story could’ve taken several tragic turns. Im lucky that I live in a western country, that I have this possibility of freedom. I’m lucky to be educated and surrounded by wonderful people.

My story isn’t meant to anger people of Muslim faith. In fact, I hope that my story and the many many others that I know are out there will open up a discussion in the Muslim community. Instead of shaming and using scare tactics to control our daughters, we should be teaching them with love, trust and truth. I wouldn’t have left Islam if my parents taught me religion instead of toxic culture. But more importantly, I hope that this might show some girl out there that she definitely isn’t alone and that she’ll make it through.

I know it can be difficult for non-Muslim people to understand how all this is possible or to understand the gravity of it, how common it is and how painful it is. But just imagine all your rights being stripped away from you because you were born a girl. Kind of like being in quarantine for 18 years! It’s funny, I hear all my friends complain about quarantine and not being able to go out or be free and I just laugh to myself and think Imagine that, plus the mental abuse, plus the oppression—because that’s how it felt. Every single day.

How is it acceptable for my father to abuse my mother but not for me to wear a tank top?

How is it okay for my brother to drop out of college but I’m not allowed to stay at the library past a certain hour?

Why is my 40 years old uncle engaged to a 17 year old girl, but I can’t date a man that I meet who loves me and treats me with respect?

Why does a 10 year old boy have more rights than a 30 year old mother?

#reddit

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singswan-springswan · 4 years

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Word Vomit: Mulan

One of my favorite things about the old Mulan movie (because we’re NOT talking about the new one) was the compatibility of the five main characters, Mulan, Shang, Yao, Ling, and Po. Through Shang’s disciplinary training, they were able to learn deeper, more meaningful aspects of themselves and became close friends as time progressed. It was increasingly clear how much they trusted and respected each other.

Shang and Mulan of course took a bit longer to figure their relationship out (since they’re MC and LI and OTP), but by the time they face the enemy, even Shang is blindly running out after his friend who he must think half-crazed at this point because come back, there’s no need to die alone, we can fight together, just stay where I can protect you.

And then Mulan is wounded, and her secret revealed. Everyone is duly shocked, of course (except for Chi-Fu, that little brat), but despite the confusion and betrayal, all four of the other MCs still seek to protect Mulan. Shang gives some dumb little “life for a life” excuse, and Yao, Ling, and Po all rush forward and oppose Chi-Fu’s command with a horrified, “NO!” Sticking up for each other had become instinct. They’re so stricken by her inability to join them in glory and honor, surprised, quickly not-surprised when she does anyway and shows up at the parade.

They’re proud of her, proud to know her, willing to drop everything for her, willing to follow her lead even when the Emperor’s life in on the line, because her plans are obviously the best. And they work together so seamlessly. Everything they do just... falls into place. Every bit of trepidation, doubt, and fear completely melts away and they become one whole unit again. Sure, the female reveal renders Shang an awkward, unsure dork, but even he isn’t taken aback. If anything, he simply gains more respect and awe for that amazing woman who thought she needed to pretend in order to impress him.

But of course, without her cross-dressing abilities, the movie would have no plot, and that’s for a number of reasons. The first being that women were simply not allowed to serve in the military. Any female breaking the rules was to be put to death by law. But it’s more than that. The beginning of the movie sets up a whole culture of patriarchal ideals in Mulan’s society. Just compare the songs, “Honor to Us All” and “I’ll Make a Man out of You”. The former stresses the importance of a woman’s duty to submit to her husband—and any male, for that matter—above all else. To serve and please and do it with grace. Meanwhile the latter song tells of how a man is meant to be an incredible, awe-inspiring force of nature, who crushes his enemy and receives all glory.

This was simply the hierarchy of their social structure, so it’s no surprise that most people just go along with it, like in “A Girl Worth Fighting For”, when the sole existence of everyone’s ideal woman seemed to be to venerate and please the guy. We as the audience are made uncomfortable by this imbalance, which might be one of the reasons we cheer for Mulan so much. We just want her to prove to us that half of humanity is equally as smart and determined and perfectly capable as the rest. But I think we need to acknowledge the fact that Mulan never expresses bitterness or contempt toward this view. Ever. Sure, she’s uncomfortable and frustrated with it too—we have no problem seeing that—but she doesn’t ever outright oppose it. The closest she really comes is her line in “A Girl Worth Fighting For”: “How ‘bout a girl who’s got a brain? Who... always speaks her mind...?” But even when she’s insulted and ridiculed and facing death, she only defends herself, and doesn’t go out and attack the system or her accusers (Chi-Fu, *cough*).

I think it’s super important that we recognize this. If Mulan had lashed out and challenged the skewed ideals as a reaction, she probably could have lost all of her friendship with the people in her company, not to mention respect for all men in general. But she doesn’t, and so when it’s time for her public display of heroism at the end of the movie, she’s able to count on the other four MCs to help her.

I think lots of people view Mulan as the kind of story that says “women are strong, independent people who are smarter than men and don’t need anyone’s help to do great things”. Though while there is some validity to that statement (I’m looking at you, Merida), let’s take a lesson from Mulan and see that we don’t have to diss men in order to establish our authority as women. We can work together perfectly fine, if we really wanted to, but we’ve got to stop stereotyping first. Not every guy is out to suppress the success of females, or conquer the world, and burn villages, and steal creepy soul-sucking dolls from little children (I’m sorry, I thought that doll was terrifying don’t @ me), some of them are just good people willing to do the right thing, and it’s up to us to be brave enough to let them.

Mulan figured out how to work harmoniously with men. And her goal wasn’t even honor or glory or respect, she was just trying to be an honest, ethical person. She did it to save lives and to bring about the greater good. In my opinion, that’s strength. Let’s learn from her.

#mulan #disney mulan #mulan 1998 #mulan word vomit #Mulan and Shang #ling and yao and chien-po #fa ping #fa mulan

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justjessame · 4 years

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The Deal Chapter Two

Shane the hero strikes again, I scoffed to myself. He had pounded our resident asshole Ed to a bloody pulp. No one likes Ed, hell I’m not entirely sure his wife and daughter like the man, so none of us were surprised that SOMEONE finally gave in to the urge to make his lights go out. All the fat dickhead did was bitch and moan, boss his wife and daughter around, and sit on his lazy ass. Perhaps if anyone else had done it, but no, it was Shane.

I’d witnessed the tense conversation between Lori and him. I knew personally how well Shane took rejection. My only wonder was whether Ed was surrogate for Lori, or my dad.

Carol took the beaten and cowering Ed away to deal with his mess of a face. I was certain she had more personal knowledge of how to deal with a beating than any of us, and it sickened me. Carol was a good person, one that didn’t get added to my least annoying list only because she wasn’t allowed to interact with me, or any of us outside of chores. It’s somewhat hard to get a good handle on a person if they can’t seem to make eye contact with you. I’d done some volunteer work at a women’s shelter while at school. I’d seen the same haunted look in most of the women and children’s eyes that I could see in Carol’s. I could tell that her hair was buzzed off because it gave him less chance to grab her hair and yank her to him when he was pissed. I knew, because I’d seen other women do the same. And I watched them, impotent to stop them, go right back to the Eds in their lives.

While all the excitement was happening beside the quarry, Amy and Andrea were on Dale’s boat fishing. Color me shocked when they decided to do it, since I hadn’t seen that either of them were proficient in more than laundry and passable at dinner prep. Hell, Andrea kept a gun on her that her dad had given her and she didn’t seem to realize that every time she acted like she’d use it the damn safety was still on. My dad always told Carl and me that anyone who hadn’t been properly trained in the use of a gun, shouldn’t have access to one. While I didn’t take it from her, I also didn’t tell her that she couldn’t shoot it with the safety on. I kept Carl from being helpful, too. And Amy, well we were close in age, but that’s where the similarities ended. She was blonde and a bit too sweet for our new reality.

I was truly surprised when the two of them came back with a cache of fish. Wow, I thought, who knew that the two of them would prove useful. I knew that Andrea had gone with the others on that horrible supply run that ended up bringing my dad back while leaving Merle to die, but from what I could gather, the only help she gave came after Dad showed her how to turn the safety off. Honestly, Dad, don’t you ever remember the lessons you taught your own children?

While they prepped the fish, I went back to the Dixon tents and tidied up. I didn’t even notice the hysteria that Jim’s hole digging caused. I guess Shane didn’t want to have another conversation with me about any danger.

That night, with Dad and the others still away, all hell broke loose. By the time Dad, Daryl, Glenn, and T-Dog arrived, the worst of it had happened. Not the killing of the dead, but the attack that left three of ours dead or with dead looming ever closer. Ed died almost immediately, though his screams will stay with me forever. Amy was attacked and held on, Andrea clutching her even with her knowing the inevitable. Jim, however, came as a shock. He hadn’t made a sound, so finding out he’d been bitten was horrifying. Dad and Daryl nearly came to blows over what to do, and then we started to pack up camp.

It was a whirlwind. Burning the dead, burying our loved ones, and finding out that part of our group was leaving the rest of us. We headed to the CDC. Daryl was getting into his truck when I was faced with another choice. Easy, just like the choice of whose tent to stay in. I could ride with Shane, since he was alone in the jeep, or ask Daryl to let me ride with him. Dad and Lori were packed in with Carl, Carol, and Sofia. I could have fit, but that was cramped and I didn’t like the chances that it wouldn’t get a little miserable. Daryl it was.

“Hey.” I said, walking up to him. “Mind if I ride with you?” I could see him weighing his options, something he’d never really done with me before. “It’s you or Shane.” I said, pleading with him silently.

“Sure.” He grunted, opening the door and gesturing for me to climb in. I tossed my bags in the back, but kept my bow with me. We got into the line of vehicles leaving and I settled in for a quiet ride. A short way out, he spoke again. “I don’t blame ya for what your dad did.”

I looked over at his profile, he was still tense, but I knew that him and my dad would have quite a while before this blew over. “Thanks, I guess.” I answered, turning to watch out the windshield as he drove. “You don’t know him, but my dad, he does what he thinks is best. Always. He’s one of those overly moral people, I think.”

Daryl snorted, and I understood. What kind of man is so moral he leaves another trapped on a roof with no water or food? One who thought the others were in danger from that man, I answered myself. Dad didn’t know Merle. He didn’t know the type of man he really was, and while I didn’t approve of his ideals, or his bigotry, I knew that he loved to read. When he’d seen the books I’d brought, he’d asked if he could borrow one. He ran through them faster than even I did. And the things he knew, like really knew, would have shocked everyone in camp. Everyone except me and Daryl, actually. Was he an asshole? Yes. Was he hateful and mean? Sure, sometimes. It doesn’t mean he didn’t have anything to offer, but why would that matter when people like Andrea “I don’t know what the safety on the gun is” are around and don’t like him?

“Do you think going to the CDC is a good idea?” I asked, figuring Daryl would have an opinion at least. “Or is it a wild goose chase?”

He studied the road, the skyline, seeing more than I ever would. “I think we should have a go and see approach.” His blue eyes wandered back to mine, and he gave a half smile. “Beats being back there waitin’ for them to come to us.”

I chuckled and we rode on in silence until our caravan stopped. Jim wasn’t doing well, he knew he was dying. Having the RV steaming hot, gave him the time he needed to ask to be left behind. Dad, always thinking of the person inside of the dying, tried to give him a gun. Ending his own suffering, that sounds lovely, I thought. Jim, being the considerate man who had dug all those grave-like holes back at camp, declined. And so we left him in the shade, to die, but not really die. I shivered, after saying goodbye, knowing what Jim was in for. Would we see him again? Part of the ever growing hordes, coming closer and closer, trying to bite and kill us for our sympathy?

Daryl and I climbed back in the truck. Dad asked if I was sure I didn’t want to get in the RV with Jacqui and the others, but I shook my head. “I’m good, Dad.” I said, smiling at him through the open window. “We’ll be right behind you.”

The weirdest parade I’d ever been a part of restarted and we headed back into the city. To the CDC, for a cure that I’m not sure any of us really believe existed.

HOURS LATER

Dad managed to convince the only remaining doctor at the CDC to give us refuge. Dr. Jenner, there was something a little off about the man, but I figured hot showers, real food, and sleep in a bed were worth giving him a pass for being an odd duck all alone in this massive building.

Taking my first shower in what felt like years, but apparently was only two months, was like heaven on earth. And then dinner, with wine? Seriously, is this even reality? Before I could head to my room, Daryl stopped me.

“Hey, Jess?” He wasn’t looking at me, but he was gnawing on the side of his thumb. That was the tell for him being nervous and uncertain. “Look, I know we got our own rooms and all, but-”

I understood. He was used to sharing space with me, and this was the strangest day we’d had so far. “Sure, let me grab my pillow.” I smiled, and ducked into the room I had been offered. Grabbing the pillow off the small bed, I wondered how we’d manage to make it work in his room. I shrugged and came out to meet him in the hallway. “Where did you pick?”

Daryl had picked the room farthest from everyone. Of course, it was a Dixon trait after all. I followed him inside and saw that he’d picked a double room. I didn’t actually need the pillow, but was happy to have it anyway. “Figured,” his voice would always sound rough, I knew, because he barely used it, “if you’d agree, you’d want your own bed.”

I smiled up at him. “We would have figured it out, Daryl, one way or another.” I reached for his hand and felt his fingers link with mine. I wondered if he felt that weird tingle like I did anytime one of us touched the other. Well, anytime I touched him. He’d only done it once, in the woods when he brushed my tears away. I bit my lip and realized neither of us was moving. “Should we-” I gestured to the beds.

I saw him swallow hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Then I was reaching up and he was bending down and his lips brushed mine. I felt fire rush through me. I was hot all over, and he was barely even kissing me. My hand released his and then both of mine found his head, holding him to me. I deepened the kiss, needing him more than I could articulate. I felt his hands fall to the small of my back and he pulled my body flush against his. If I had expected Daryl to fight against what I was feeling, it was a foolish expectation.

Our lips pulled apart only when breathing became necessary. His eyes locked on mine, and I saw how dark they’d grown. How had I never seen it? Never realized how he felt, how I felt? Daryl Dixon would always see everything and I’d always be playing catch up.

“Damn, girl, that was a long time comin’.” He whispered, his breath fanning across my swollen lips. His hands were rubbing my lower back, still keeping a respectable distance from anything too forward.

“Worth the wait?” I asked, licking my bottom lip.

He chuckled and swayed with me in his arms. “Yeah, worth the wait.” He was smiling and I would kill to see it more often. “We don’t have to-” he stopped, and glanced at the beds.

“I know we don’t have to, Daryl,” I whispered. “We haven’t even though we’ve been sharing space for what, two months now?” I smiled up at him. “That was the longest courting ritual I’ve ever heard about.”

His smile held. “Courtin’? Nah, I just figured that you wouldn’t want me to try nothin’. After all, you’re a college girl.”

I rolled my eyes. “What made you decide to take the chance, Dixon?” I asked, running my fingers through his short hair.

“You picked riding with me, even after your dad asked if you wanted to ride with Dale.” He said, pulling a hand away from my back and running it along my cheek. “I can understand ya not wantin’ to ride with Shane, but Dale? Hell, he ain’t so bad.”

“Picking you made you take a shot, huh?” I cupped his cheek in my own hand. “Well, thank God I decided to ride with you instead of squeezing in with Dad and the family.”

We pulled apart and sat down on the closest bed. He pulled my back against his chest and just held me. “Mean it though, we don’t gotta do nothin’. Not tonight, not until you’re sure.” I smiled at the sensitivity that the man everyone saw as a ruffnut redneck was showing me. “Now that I know ya want me, I can wait forever if I have to.”

I turned my head so I could listen to the steady beat of his heart. Steady and sure, just like the man it belonged to. “We could force these two small beds together and sleep together. Really sleep, for now.” I offered, and felt him tighten his grip around me. “Unless you don’t want to.”

He nearly groaned. “Course I want to.” He let me go so we could stand up and get to work. “Don’t think these are bolted down,” He said, looking at the legs of the small bed. “Let’s slide this one over to that one,” he was pointing at the one we’d sat on. “Further from the door, so we can see anyone comin’ inside.” Ever vigilant, I thought.

We worked quickly, pulling the beds together and working so the sheets and blankets over lapped. I tossed the extra pillow in the middle and we had a pretty decent sized bed. I smiled up at him and pulled down my jeans. My boyshort panties and tank would have to do for pajamas, since I didn’t plan on searching for any others. I watched as he tugged his own off, leaving just a t-shirt and his briefs. “You want inside or outside?” I asked, since part of our bed was against the wall.

“You take the wall, and I’ll be on the edge.” He answered, just like I figured he would. He’d stand against the world for people he cared about.

I crawled into the bed, lifting our combined covers up and sliding inside. I rolled over and watched him lay down beside me. He rolled to face me, and we laid together for a beat, just taking in this new evolution to our relationship. My hand came up first, brushing the few strands of hair away from his forehead, so I could get a better view. My fingertips traced the planes of his face, touching his lips. Why didn’t anyone SEE Daryl? This Daryl. The softness of him, the beauty.

I felt his hand copy mine. It was like we’d never taken the time to appreciate one another, and I guess we hadn’t. “How old are you, Daryl?” I asked, because to me his face was timeless.

His chuckle vibrated against my fingertips. “Probably closer to your dad’s age than yours.” He nearly pulled away, breaking the spell we’d fallen into. I wouldn’t let him.

“I only asked because I can’t tell.” I said, holding onto his hand in mine. Keeping it on my face. “Sometimes it’s like you're older, and sometimes it’s like you’re my age.” My hand on top of his was feeling the strength, the calluses of his fingers were more proof. “You know I don’t have daddy issues, Daryl, so age doesn’t make a difference to me.”

“Bet your dad won’t agree on that one.” He replied, but didn’t try to fight against his urge to touch me. “Bet the whole damn group won’t like this one little bit.”

I scoffed. “Since when do we care about the group and what they think?” I did have a pang at the thought that my dad wouldn’t like this. I loved my dad and I craved his approval, which came so easily, but would he be angry about us? Would he hurt Daryl? I shook off the worry. “Don’t talk yourself out of this, Daryl, you just talked yourself into.” I smiled at him and moved the hand holding his to run down his arm. “You are one of my favorite people in this world, Dixon. You have been since the very first time you spoke to me, and spoke up for me.”

His smile had me knowing that he remembered the time as well as I did. “Had to,” he answered, following my lead to touch my bare arm. “Just cause you only had archery during summer camp didn’t mean ya didn’t know nothin’. And Merle was outta line when he called ya that.” I felt his fingertips run up my arm and across my collarbone. “Your skin is so fuckin’ soft.”

And hot, I thought, feeling the heat building with his touch. “And yours is,” I tested his skin, tracing the tattoos I found along my way. “Pretty damn amazing, taunt and strong.” I bit my lip, and saw his attention focus on my mouth again. “Gonna make me beg, Daryl?” I breathed, and then his lips met mine. Searing hot, as his tongue slid inside for a taste. My hands forgot their route, and clutched at his head again, rolling myself onto my back and pulling him along with me. Feeling his weight fall over me, I arched up into him. I could feel how aroused he was, and I hoped he knew that I was too. I rocked against his hardness, and felt my dampness grow.

“We shouldn’t,” he whispered against my mouth, even as he dived in again. I nipped his bottom lip and he fed me his moan. My tongue flicked against his, begging without words for us to keep going. He pulled back, keeping our foreheads together, but letting us catch our breath. “Not tonight, Jess.” He rolled over while I stared at the ceiling for a moment.

I moved over to rest my head on his chest. His heart was beating as fast as mine, and I knew he was being noble, because I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I felt his arm wrap around me, holding me to him, and his lips kissed my forehead. “You’re more moral and protective than most of our group, Daryl Dixon.” I giggled, feeling his arm clutch against me. “And I think I may be in love with you.”

I felt the breath leave him. “You think you are?” He whispered and I nodded. “Jessica I’m already there. I love you.” I moved to hold his hand, feeling his fingers automatically link with mine. “Think I’ve been in love with ya since the first time I seen ya.” He chuckled and I felt the rumble through my place on his chest. “Merle knew, hell he teased me somethin’ terrible. Just didn’t think you’d feel the same.”

“For a guy who sees so damn much, I’m pretty sure you’re blind.” I said, voice muffled against his shirt. “Pretty sure I feel the same, I’ve just never felt this way before.” I shrugged. “And what girl wouldn’t fall for someone like you? You’re amazing, Daryl.” I propped my chin up on his chest to look up at him. “Loving you is going to be as simple for me as breathing. That’s something Dad told Lori when they got married,” I smiled at the memory. “I never understood it until you.”

“Jess, I want ya to know that you can tell me anythin’.” Daryl said, caressing my face with his hand that I’d been holding. “Anythin’. And I plan on telling ya everythin’. No matter how painful.”

I nodded, knowing what he meant. He wanted to know what happened with Shane. “Not tonight?” I pleaded, thinking we needed one night to get used to being together. “Let’s just sleep and then we’ll share everything, OK?”

“It’s a deal.” He said, kissing my head again. He turned off the lights and held me as we fell into the first real sleep either of us had had since this nightmare began.

TWO MONTHS EARLIER~ GIVE OR TAKE

I stomped away from the others, bow in my hand feeling like kicking something or someone. Shane’s smug face came to mind. As I neared the forest, I felt the tickle against my skin that told me I wasn’t alone. I turned, ready to smack the asshole’s face finally, when I was confronted by the two loners of our group. Dixon brothers, rough around the edges and everywhere in between.

“Heard what you said back there, little girl.” The oldest, Merle said, nodding back toward camp. “What’s a hot piece of coed ass like you know about bows and arrows? Did ya play a lot of cowboys and Indians when ya were growing up? Wouldn’t mind a round of cowboy and cowgirl with you, myself.”

“Damn it, Merle, stop your shit.” The other one, Daryl growled, glaring at his brother. “Let’s see what ya can do.” He motioned toward a target I had been approaching.

Shrugging and not fearing turning my back to the two of them, I was armed after all, I notched an arrow and let it fly. Dead center, right where it was supposed to go. I turned back and saw Daryl’s first half grin. And my only thought at that moment was that he was going to ruin my world. Because Daryl Dixon was beautiful, he was my light in the darkness. And I was fairly certain, as he looked at his brother and told him I could be an asset to their hunting party, he only saw me as a little girl who could shoot a bow.

#The Walking Dead #daryl dixon x ofc #rick grimes daughter #eventual smut #romance #angst #slight au

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