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jenivi7 · 4 years ago

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First Lines Tagging Meme

I'M SO HAPPY TO BE TAGGED IN THIS TWICE! Thank you @ink-flavored and @clyde-side !! (I almost just did this on my own too because I love babbling about my own fics...)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line.

Now pinned and under a cut because it became a really long, really good introduction to me and my stories!

Hello!

Unnecessary and overly wordy introduction/personal musings: I love opening lines so much. When I worked at a bookstore, I used to open books and hardcore judge them on their first lines. I had barely any free time to read at that point so if it didn’t grab me in the first line or two, I put it back. The first Harry Potter book is actually in my pile of really good openers. “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.” (Subtle alliteration, HELLO??) So I'm super excited to see if my own first lines come even close to the standards that I apply to other people lol. MY OWN MONEY IS ON NO. I have the feeling that I'm so frantic trying to get the story down on paper before the good words disappear from my head that I'm not actually paying attention to the first line. BUT LET'S SEE, SHALL WE.

So just straight up going backwards, I've written and posted TWO BRAND NEW THINGS after being away from fandom almost entirely for 10+ years! They're drabble length but they're shiny and new! <3 (All available fics are linked!)

1. Tango:

She teaches them to dance so that they can dance with her but when Atem gets that mischievous smirk on his face and pulls Yugi into his arms, their bodies spark and the dance floor smolders at their heels.

(The fic is so short that this is a full 1/5 of it but actually, I think I crammed all the good stuff right into that first line. This already might be my favorite. Like it says there in the line itself, Puzzleshipping.)

2. No Betting:

Anzu sat at the kitchen table writing carefully calculated answers onto sticky notes before attaching them to a fourth-grade math worksheet.

(Peachshipping! This one doesn't pop off until about line five so here's the rest of that bit:)

She had the same arrangement with her spouse as most parents had. When the kids were good they were hers. When they were bad, they were his. And when they were winning at games because they picked up rules with uncanny speed and read their opponents with more insight than ought to be available to a child, they were definitely, definitely his.

3. If you wanted honesty that's all you had to say (working title):

When he realized that the figure sitting under the game shop display window and smoking wasn’t Ryou, the physical body response was as though it had discovered a coiled snake not two feet away.

(This one! It's a NEW half finished(?) WIP. I actually started this one before the drabbles but wanted to finish before posting it. Then it got out of hand, then work got out of hand, then I started a couple more projects and well. I keep putting words on it though and eventually there will be a Kleptoshipper that turns into Puzzle and Tender for your reading enjoyment. Also, fair warning - don't use song lyrics as a working title. Every time I look at the document I get the song stuck in my head.)

Now we have polished up reposts of old stories for their move to AO3, where I'll basically keep my master archive. Not full re-writes but I fixed a bunch of typos and awkward sentences and they're much stronger for it. Most of these are from a pairings contest way back when so LOTS of different pairings and lots of AUs!

4. Human:

It was like a bad noir, the thought crossed both of their minds.

(Scifi AU, Rivalshipping. That one's not bad for a first line. Actually no link at the time of writing cause the re-edit is going up in like, a half hour? an hour? a half day? It's my next project after finishing this, finishing up the edit and posting it on AO3. Now with link!)

5. Blood:

Fingers through midnight black hair, whispers in his ear, touches that sizzled along the skin, awakening nerves and senses.

(Dungeonshipping, Pegasus x Otogi, vampires AU. Oh that’s a nice first line! <3)

6. Crazy for You:

The keys are too large and too heavy for the doctor more used to more modern facilities but she doesn't say anything, just follows the orderly as he pulls the large door open.

(Manipulashipping, Anzu x Marik, Psychward AU. Still one of my favorites from that era. Big bold warning though, THIS ONE CONTAINS NON-CON)

7. Finality:

“What are you doing here?”

“Saying goodbye.” Bakura’s translucent arms swept across the graveyard. “Is this not an appropriate place for it?”

(First two or so bits of dialogue as the first first is a generic question. You can tell this is one of the really old ones just by that but it's a sweet, sad little Tendershipper that still has a special place in my heart.)

8. Pieces of You:

Glitter caught the light, leaving shimmering trails in the air as it got everywhere.

(Glittershipping, Anzu x Kisara. Another one that's special to me. Kisara is my girl and my first writing muse. <3)

9. Cambodia:

“It was summer of fifty three...”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute, it can't have been fifty three. You might be that ancient but I'm not. It must have been sixty three.”

(Jiishipping. Yes. Sugoroku x Arthur. HEY, IT CAME UP IN THE RANDOM DRAW FOR THE SHIPPING CONTEST OK. And my writer's brain hasn't backed down from a challenge yet... Another one that takes 4 lines to pop off but it's a good start. Actually, here's the rest of the bit just because I cannot get enough of these two bickering:)

“What do you mean it must have been sixty three? You don't even know what story I'm trying to tell.”

“Am I in it?”

“What?”

“So you're deaf now as well as daft? AM I IN IT?”

“Of course you're in it, y'old coot. Don't know why I'd tell a story without you in it when both grandkids are sitting here.”

10. Coffee and Cigarettes:

"Cigarettes and coffee? That's not a very healthy lunch."

Mana crossed her legs and took a refined sip of her own coffee even as her company was not.

(Mischiefshipping, Mana x Thief King Bakura. Oh this one I'm actually sad that it doesn't immediately sparkle in the first line cause it's one of my absolute favorites of everything I've written. And I think it's the only time I've ever written Mana but I LOVED IT AND HER. Oh no! I lied, I've written her at least one other time though I don't think that one quite captures her sheer chaos energy like this one does.)

11. A Million Missed Chances:

Somewhere along the line, someone made a choice.

(This one. THIS ONE. I think this is by far the most epic idea I've tackled. I still don't know if the sheer scale of the thing came across in the actual fic but in my head it was massive and I remember pounding away at my teeny tiny laptop late at night because the whole thing hit me maybe a day or so before the story was due for the pairings contest. We only had a week to write each fic and my really good ideas never came to me before the very last minute. T.T Conquestshipping, Mai x Valon.)

12. A Fear of Falling:

She drove.

Like she always did when something bothered her.

(Oh the first chapter on this is also one of the really ancient ones. Like one of the very first things I wrote. That first chapter really shows its age and is a little shaky but the others are better and the last one is what fits into the chorological order here. Polarshipping, Jou x Mai. One of my very first ships. Probably THE first actually <3)

13. What Our Creators Make Us:

"Well, well." The match flared, scattering dark shadows until it was blown out and the only light that remained was the red glow from the cigarette end. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

(Psychoshipping, Marik x Spirit of the Ring Bakura. With a bit of Bronze, Angst and Tender in the follow up. Old but I'm ridiculously proud of it, hence it's place in the master archive. Ahaha you can tell how old it is though by how clever I think I am. I thought it was funny to make my audience figure out who was talking and not reveal the characters for a good fourth to third of the fic. Ahhhhhhh. Sorry about past me.)

14. A Revolution of the Spirit:

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't.

That they were close was understandable (you don't get much closer than sharing headspace) but that even now, after deals were made with gods, endless arguments, compromises and the ultimate guilt trip that he had only been a teenager when he willingly sacrificed himself for all of humanity, things she had only half seen and only partly understood even though they had all been there to witness, that even now Atem continued to invade Yugi's personal space as though he belonged there got on her nerves.

(Woah Nelly! That third sentence should probably be three, four and five. Even if I just split it in half we'd continue the pattern of things popping off in the fourth line. I think that's one pattern that's emerging! A really good bit takes me about four lines to set up and deliver! Oh, the challenge was Revolutionshipping, Anzu x Atem, but the fic is actually Spiritshipping, Anzu x Yugi x Atem.)

So confession time, I haven't been out of fandom completely, I just hadn't written my own standalone stories in a very long time. There are a few (ok ok more than a few) long-running rps that @miss-moberg and I have been adding to on and off over the years. I can't resist throwing in a couple of these.

15. Cafe!

The door shut behind them with the soft click of the latch and the exhale of a breath long held.

(This opening line was from December of 2020 when we rebooted a very old Prideshipper and that is a damn good opening line if I do say so myself. I can definitely see the difference now between the newer works and the older ones. I've gotten better, she's matched me pace for pace and eventually something will be finished, I'll work up the courage to ask permission to post it and the whole internet will get to see how brilliant the two of us are together.)

16. Treasure Hunt!

"Ryou, I think you're going to regret letting me tag along on your adventuring this time." Yugi didn't bother turning away from the airplane's tiny window to see if his seatmate was paying attention. He was more thinking out loud with his friend playing the role of a convenient sounding board. "Because I think this trip is the only thing I'm going to talk about ever again."

(One more from RP because it's got that fun, four line punch that we've discovered is a pattern for me! Opening entry is from 2017.)

Also, in truth, my count is a little off when I say I'd been out of fandom 10+ years. I've been away from YGO for that long but I did spend a brief stint in Homestuck where I read a ton of fanfic, flirted with a couple group RPs and even wrote a tiny bit. 9 years without writing a new fic isn't as impressive as saying ‘over a decade’ but it is a little more accurate.

17. What You Will:

In the land of fair Illyria, along a small, sandy stretch of its rocky shore, a ship has come to ruin and one lone woman lies still as death among broken wood.

(The beginning of a Homestuck/Twelfth Night crossover that I'm still determined to work more on someday. It's only got a single chapter but it's magic though now I'm concerned about not being able to recapture that. Not a bad first line though. The style is so different it took me reading it a couple times before going, oh yeeeeeah, that's pretty good!)

18. Relentless:

You pull him to the deck and then across it by the remains of his shirt. Let him say one last goodbye. His ship pillaged, his crew murdered, his hands bound behind his back and at your mercy.

Funny word, that. Mercy.

(The first line is pretty decent but there's that four line combo again! Five but I could basically fix that with a comma. Featuring the troll ancestors Mindfang and Dualscar because every time Hussey introduced new characters they were instantly my favorite.)

19. Black:

There is dark and there is dark and there is dark and then there is black. She is black. Licorice and coal. She is hate and resentment and everything that tastes bitter, the kind of black that coats the tongue like oil, drips down the back of the throat and keeps going.

(Oh wow. Am I allowed to say that about my own work? A Terezi/Vriska drabble that I'm putting as much here as I think I can get away with because it's so good that it fucks me up a little going back and reading it.)

And here it gets tricky because I think the more recent of the old, old fics are in the Drabbles and Shorts collection on ff.net and I can't see a post date. So I'll just pick a good one to end on.

20. Two Princes:

It was inevitable as the rising of Ra's chariot after a long night, as the flooding of the river banks every spring, and Atem always knew that Yugi's kiss would be as warm and gentle as the evening breeze in the summer that brought relief from the scorching day. It was.

(How about the final honor going to more Puzzle/Blind? This probably has the strongest first line of its era. Actually I'm not sure when it was written. It was just hanging out in my writing folder and, thinking about it, I probably wrote it when I was fading from fandom the first time around but still trying to hang in there. No wait! That’s too sad, we can’t end on that! Lets add one more to the list for the sake of personal narrative!)

21. Linger:

The world doesn't need him anymore. It doesn't need his sword and it doesn't need his pen.

(A tiny Princess Tutu afterward that I wrote for myself. Nice one-two punch in the opener. Also it rounds out the personal story that accidentally developed here with a line later in the fic, "Words, however, never stray far from a good writer..." Like, wait, stop. Past me, how did you know T.T)

Did that take a sudden emotional turn for anyone else or was that just me. Can I offset that a little with an honorable mention? Let’s do that while I collect myself. Here’s one more.

Honorable mention: Ryou and the Thief

There was a storm gathering and too much magic in the air. Much more than occurred naturally and magic at this level was never a good thing.

(I can’t have a list of things I’ve written without having Ryou and the Thief on it. If you click on this one though, BEWARE, it’s old, it’s silly and it has a ton of explicit gay sex that… would be written very differently if we were handling it today I’m sure! This is the first RP @miss-moberg and I ever did together and our excuse to Gemship and Puzzleship turned into us running the boys through a whole adventure based on the Osiris myth. It’s the longest thing I’ve ever completed and I’d still consider it kind of my legacy.)

And that’s the last 21(+1!) stories that I’ve written!

The clear winner of best first line for me is 15. Cafe! It’s short, elegant and manages to contain a whole mood even without the context of what’s going on and who’s involved. (Spoilers: It’s Seto and Mokuba making an AU escape from Gozoboro.) Close second is Tango, the most recent story. It’s neat to see just how much better I’ve gotten and also really cool to see that even if the first line itself doesn’t contain a punch, it’s usually because there’s a nice, strong idea being set up and delivered in the first four lines (or so). What a pleasant surprise!

AND WOW, this whole tag thing didn't need to be so long! Or personal! Seriously, if you get this tag from me the challenge is only to list the first lines to 20 stories and maybe try to draw one or two conclusions from them. You all thought I was joking when I said I loved talking about my own writing! But actually, I guess it’s fine like this as I ended up using it as a way to re-introduce myself. Like, "Hey, I used to live here a long time ago and oh my god I love what you've done with the place!" Rather than being someone who's just popped up out of nowhere a few weeks ago to creepily bother all your best of the best creators so....

^///^ Hello!

Thanks for letting me ramble!

Tags! I think I've seen most of the authors I follow do this already but on the off chance you haven't been tagged yet: @elexica (checked your blog to see if you'd already done the tag and saw that you're another person returning to writing fanfiction after 10+ years. Same! Hello!!), @danieco, @draconicmaw, @nedjemetsenen (has someone tagged you already?) and two shots in the dark, @miss-moberg and @edmondia (I'm so sorry you two. T.T Please feel free to block me forever.) And please, anyone else who wants to babble about their own writing! Do this, it was so much fun. <3

#ygo #yu-gi-oh #yugioh #yugioh fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #jenific #so many ships #so many characters like woah #not half bad for a retrospective if i do say so myself #thank you for coming to my ted talk #tag game #first lines tag

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madokasoratsugu · 5 years ago

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meta on what happens to each character post ‘moonlight is but reflected sun’ . this is as close as it’s gonna get for an actual epilogue to the fic, i hope you enjoy! as usual, read on ao3 if possible for formatting - bullet points aren’t too bad for this meta, but i personally think the ao3 version’s format might flow better.

read on ao3

Fritz still doesn't get along with most of Marchen for the rest of the rebellion (overthrowing Hildyr, taking back the castle and rescuing Genaro). an enemy of an enemy is a friend, but knowing he nearly killed at least two people present is. hard to get over instantly. Fritz understands, Lucette doesn’t. Fritz jokes about how Lucette may run off again because of this, covers his mouth and looks the most surprised by his own words. he is more like the wolf than he’s starting to realise. maybe this is a good thing.

Parfait and Delora are the ones who accept Fritz the fastest. Parfait does so the moment he steps into Marchen, Delora the moment he steps out toward the castle. there is a special kind of courage to be recognised (and feared) in a man who willingly throws himself back into the jaws of death just to get the truth from the one he loves, the very one who condemned him

“You’ve done well.” Parfait tells him, soft like no parent has spoken to him in years. “You’ve had courage, and kindness. Not many would have had that strength. Thank you.” Parfait never says a name. she knows that that is not important. and then she hugs him, and hugs him tighter as he lets out an aching sob into her chest.

Parfair still dies to stop Hildyr, magic is still lost. but with Mythros' influence over Varg gone, Delora lives. the gate scene pretty much never happens; once Hildyr flings the first spell at Lucette, Delora has thrown her shield up, thrown herself in the role of Lucette’s mother, and she’s not fucking budging. no one is taking another child from her again.

Alcaster is long dead at the hands of Hildyr by the time they storm the castle. Mythros is caught for questioning, but escapes during the post-revolution chaos/celebration. Fritz never gets his answers this time, either. maybe it’s better this way. Fritz certainly doesn’t think so.

a rescue for Lucette was attempted, but quickly aborted when Lucette was found missing. two is enough to cover each other's sixes, so Garlan doesn't die. but he does get severely injured, especially at the knee that puts an end to his career as a knight. its ok though, because as Karma puts it: "He can start a new career as Jurien's house husband instead". and he does. as well as become one of Lucette's newest minister of defense.

Fritz becomes Prince Consort cum Head Knight, Lucette the Queen. compared to facing your worst fears and standing up to a long loved parent, these responsibilities almost seems like taking candy from a baby.

until Fritz starts taking etiquette classes and attends rigorous prince training. he’s never wanted to die more. Lucette laughs, but helps him out with his academics anyway. they have so many dance lessons together in empty ballrooms and corners of the garden, even though both are already excellent dancers. but most days it is Rod and Emelaigne who guide him, and it’s through many an etiquette class that they grow closer. the trio def eventually all see each other like siblings.

Emelaigne tells him one day when they’re rearranging knives that she doesn’t blame or fear him. it’s a stupid decision, Fritz subtly hints at when he says thank you. Emelaigne smiles at him and says i know, when she puts the butter knife next to his pinky finger. Emelaigne smiles at him and says i trust you, when she lifts the steak knife and hands it to him to arrange next.

things are weird around Lucette and her step-siblings for a while. having a near death experience together caused by your fiance does that to people. but Lucette goes to town with Emelaigne more often now, though she sticks to the shadows with Rod. Lucette learns to bring a book while waiting for Emelaigne to finish conversations in shops, make small talk with Rod over such novels, with Emelaigne between shop shelves over everything and anything. it is easier work than Lucette imagined it to be, if such tasks that slowly turn into enjoyments, can be considered work at all.

“Does Rod like chocolate?” Lucette asks, absentminded as she stares at a flower shop. that is when Emelaigne knows, truly, that maybe at least one family has the hope of being rebuilt.

“Cinnamon! He likes that flavour best!” “Then let’s go to the best bakery in town.” “Not the best baker?” “No, unless you have a craving for chocolate croissants.”

Fritz immediately clears Jurien and Garlan’s names with the Order of Caldria, and Jurien becomes co-head knight with Fritz. she takes care of the training and soldiers most days, while Fritz does paperwork and acts as the figurehead leader. most soldiers will never respect the two of them as much as they did Alcaster. most soldiers will also never know the things the two of them have sacrificed to protect all their lives, all the lives of those they treasure in town.

Jurien and Fritz silently make peace with this with a shared bottle of whiskey under the moon. “Varg was a total dick.” Jurien abruptly says, bottle half empty. Fritz laughs. “Is that an indirect insult to your superior?” Jurien grins. “Yes.” Fritz laughs, again. it’s good to have friends.

among her immediate family, Ophelia expresses her joy for their union the most readily. she loves Lucette, but in the end she is still the one her father chose over Lucette. Lucette understands and forgives, but it is hard to forget. she asks Fritz if that makes her cruel. Fritz smiles sadly, and says no, it just makes you human.

Genaro doesn’t quite know what to do with himself or his daughter after everything. neither does Lucette, nor Fritz. it’s a weird situation when your fiance’s father was plotting to kill his former best friend, who also happens to be your father. it’s an even weirder situation when you learn that that father that nearly died may not have hated you for your entire life after all. it takes many years and many awkward conversations, but Lucette can at least see her father as someone to depend on now. as for seeing him as a father, and him her daughter - well. she’s lived without one for seventeen years. she’ll live another few decades without one. at least with her as nothing but his ward, his successor in line, he can look at her without flinching now.

it’s all Lucette’s ever wanted, so she hooks her arm through Delora’s, and lets her mother lead her down the aisle instead.

Fritz is what makes Lucette happy. it’s all Genaro ever wanted, and so Genaro’s blessing is quick, and immense. happiness is something Genaro was unable to give Lucette, will never be able to exceed Fritz in giving. it is a secret he takes to his grave. this world’s cruel truth has hurt his daughter enough.

Karma is the one who’s the most suspicious of Fritz for the longest time. he’s clashed swords with him, he knows murderous intent when he sees it. he may see him in a better light after fighting side by side to take down Hildyr and brainwashed soldiers, but some days he glances at Fritz, smells the metallic tinge that never leaves him and thinks blood, and doesn’t dare to think whose. trust is something to be earned. Fritz doesn’t earn Karma’s for years.

it’s a good thing, Fritz tells Lucette after yet another argument she’s had with her redhead friend, it means he cares, that he wants to think the best of us - or, me, i guess. he doesn’t tell her some nights he still dreams of gilded cages and his mother, and Lucette. he tells her with a smile having doubts may save her life in the future and she slaps him. he tells her about her dreams then, and she kisses the cheek she slapped and cries because he won’t. it’s not a fairy tale romance, but it’s theirs, and Lucette reminds Fritz of that. Fritz nods, and sinks into her hug, and tells her about another childhood memory of his mother. maybe this time it’s a happy one. maybe it’s not. but it’s their romance, and this way he is letting go of his parents’, and that’s what counts.

“I don’t trust you.” Karma says. his voice carries in the wide training ground. “Doesn’t mean I don’t trust that you won’t protect her, or make her happy.” Fritz mirrors his gentle smile, and lifts his longsword. “My sentiments exactly.” Karma lifts a brow, his rapier, and strikes true.

Rumpel continues working on breaking his curse, and every time he returns to the palace, he comes back wiser. his words do not change, but they hold gravitas now, a sure assuredness behind every syllable. he was the first to look Fritz in the eye, after Parfait. he continues to do so, even after they’ve retaken the castle, even after seeing Fritz wielding a sword bloodied by innocents. his gaze is saddened, but he holds Fritz’s eye. Fritz is the one who looks away. he is more of a knight than he realised. maybe this is good.

when Rumpel returns, he always returns with advice and tea leaves for Lucette. Lucette takes both with an eye roll and a smile. he ruffles her hair, asks if she is alright and she always says, yes. he always sees through her, and tells her what she needs to hear - ‘tell him how you feel’, ‘then just kiss him, if you want to so much’, ‘be selfish with him’. often Lucette isn’t sure if Rumpel is advising her, or airing wishes left undone. but they always help, so she always thanks him, and gives advice of her own back, do not forget about yourself, and only once does Rumpel smile wrinkled, fingers curling around an old journal beneath the table. not anymore, he promises.

Waltz takes to Fritz after a while. it starts with both realising the other is someone also irrefutably screwed over by an adviser that slipped out of their grasp. it really starts when Waltz confides i should have broken her out, when Fritz replies so should i. shared regrets and trauma makes fast friends. Waltz understands Fritz in a way that no one else has, no one else will. there is darkness both wield with strength, command with ease and make bend to their will. it is a frightful thing to know you can do. it becomes less so when someone else kinder than you can do the same.

Lucette asks Fritz once, how he took to Waltz so easily. Fritz only smiles, and kisses her temple, says, ‘secret’, in lieu of ‘our mothers died because of us’, ‘the most vital moments of our lives were stolen from us by the same person’, ‘we would have given our lives for you in that tunnel if it meant you never had to see your mother and let her hurt you again.’. sometimes it is easier to lie. sometimes Lucette knows, so she just sighs, and tells him to pass on the message that they are both fools and she will not condone death. Fritz grins and asks how she will punish him if he is dead? Lucette deadpans necromancy, and Fritz laughs, kisses her again. he promises, swears to live for her (again). he is more like a prince than he realised. maybe this is a good thing.

Waltz doesn’t tell Lucette about their history all at once. he asks Lucette once, if she remembers anything happy at all in her childhood. her eyes film over, and she says maybe, i can’t -. and her knees are buckling. repressed memories, enchanted amnesia, where does one draw the line between the two? Waltz doesn’t want to find out. all he does is wrap her in a hug, say you don’t have to remember and wish she did. eventually she will, but by then Waltz is in Brugantia and Karma is healing the wounds she would only have torn open wider. when they meet again and her once-bleeding wounds are scars like his is, they will laugh about poorly sewn dolls and the sweetness of sweets stolen from kitchens, and laugh more over their respective betrothed's horrible accents.

‘could have been’s are dangerous, Waltz tells her one night, with a knowing smile. ‘do not dwell on them, little star.’ black and velvet and two instead of one. thoughts Lucette brush aside as she brushes Fritz’s odd lock of black away from his face. she will remember, but she will not wonder. she kisses Fritz’s temple where the black tresses end, and sinks in the familiar smoky laugh that tumbles from him.

"What do you love about me?" Lucette asks, another night, the first one they spend together. everything feeling terribly new and odd, their fingers intertwined in the space between them, every other part kept to their separate halves of the bed. Fritz blinks, staring up at the canopy, thinks."How high can you count?"

“How do you love me?” Lucette asks, another night, curling into Fritz’s warmth. Fritz pulls her in closer, hums sleepily into the top of her head. “Deeply, and truly.”

“Why do you love me?” Lucette asks, another night, curled into herself, back to Fritz. Fritz combs his hand through her long hair that pools around her and over the bed. slowly, he makes his way up to her roots, hand buried in auburn and thumb smoothing over the shell of her ear, her lashes blending into her flushed face. at the lack of resistance, Fritz moves closer, the crinkling of the sheets tangling around his legs the only indication he is moving at all. slides his other hand over the bed, softly shifting the folds, pausing next to her hip. fingertips barely grazing her tailbone as he slips his other hand lower to the nape of her neck; her breath hitches as he leans forward, fingertips tipping into the dent where her spine ends, tracing over her hipbone, her waist, her stomach. closes in, hand shifting down from her nape so his lips can take it’s place. “Because.” Fritz murmurs into her skin, as if trying to etch the words with breath alone. “I couldn’t have done anything else.”

like a snare, his words draw her back in, away from then and back to them. an exhale leaves Lucette, her chest caving in as she relaxes into Fritz’s languid frame behind her. he is more like a hunter than he realised. maybe this is a good thing.

"I know - I know we’ve discussed this, and it’s pretty much already set in stone but -.” Laughter. “Will you marry me?”

“Of course. I - oh - Of course.”

their romance is not a fairy tale but it is, finally, theirs. and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

#cinderella phenomenon #cinderella phenomenon spoilers #cinderella phenomenon visual novel #lucette riella britton #fritzgerald aiden leverton #mentions of other charas #im not tagging #melon writes

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warpfactornonsense · 6 years ago

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Fic Recs

An incomplete list of Star Trek TOS/AOS fics I recommend.

Literally anything by ThereBeWhalesHere. She’s written such fan favorites as Sha Ka Ree, Refuge, and To Be Wed. (My personal favorite out of those is Refuge, though Sha Ka Ree is better known.) Mostly Spirk works with a touch of Tilly/Michael, T’Pura, and Chahura. Mix of TOS and AOS.

Magpie by waldorph - Spirk, AOS - I’d describe this one as an absolute gut-punch. AU where Spock and Jim meet when they’re 7 and 6, respectively. Chaos ensues, of the heavy-hitting and emotionally wrenching varieties, as they grow up. Note: I forget if this includes any underage content or not?? I honestly can’t remember... I’m usually one to avoid underage content like the plague, but this one came highly recommended by an IRL friend, and it did not disappoint. Waldorph is also a fantastic writer with a lot of great fics worth reading.

the ship in port is the safer one by KiaraSayre - Gen, AOS - Otherwise known as "the toilet paper mutiny fic.” It’s a hoot and a holler, in a serious way. Full of friendship goodness. Jim learns on the fly how to be a real captain, and how to deal with all the less-than-glamorous garbage that comes with it.

Tick-Tock and Fizzbin by entrenous - Spirk, TOS - OMS fluff. So fluffy. So fluffy, I about died. One of my all-time favorites. Sulu gives Kirk and Spock a unicorn dog puppy as a housewarming gift, but Spock’s not really keen on having a pet. Kirk, on the other hand, really wants a dog. (Full of positive reinforcement pet training techniques! Hooray!)

Phoenix by museaway - Spirk, TOS - OMS. Less fluff, more plot and angst. Misunderstandings, resolutions, problems solved... and appropriately dramatic hospital bedside confessions. Very nicely understated, for all it’s actually dramatic? If that makes sense? Just an overall well-done trilogy.

Insontis by KCS - Gen, TOS - THE CUTEST THING I’VE EVER READ. Kidfic (and I’m CRAZY picky about kidfic), and mostly cracky, but in a way that’s just *Pacha meme face* mmmmm. It even gets pretty serious at times. Jim volunteers to get turned into a tiny infant, and the Enterprise crew has to raise him. He ages every time he learns a valuable life lesson. Full of all the friendship feels.

Without Words by plaidshirtjimkirk - Spirk, TOS - You want shippy goodness? Here it is. Spock’s never been on a date. Jim decides to remedy that, and try to convey to Spock what he can’t seem to articulate with words. Plaidshirtjimkirk has tons of great stuff worth reading, but this one is my favorite out of their works.

The World Well Lost by annaknitsspock - Spirk, AOS - Read the warnings. There are additional triggers you may want to know about before reading this work. But it’s so good: Spock and Jim are on Tarsus IV as kids. Then a lot of stuff happens... Hard-hitting and full of Jim being self-sacrificing for the good of his t’hy’la.

Take Refuge in What You Know by CorpusInvictus - Spirk, AOS - Spock has extreme agoraphobia. Jim just wants to get to know his enigmatic neighbor. Also healthy doses of Joanna McCoy, who is an absolute treasure in this fic. All the bonus points ever for this fic for appropriate patience dealing with mental issues.

Of Socks and Spocks by gentleau - Spirk, TOS - Spock tries to be a better partner to Jim, and takes the advice of a few crew members in an attempt to show his regard for Jim. This leads to some misunderstandings. Insecure!Spock, but there’s a happy ending.

Those are the big ones, anyway! I might have a few others squirreled away in my fanfic tag.

#zj's thoughts #thank greenjimkirk for this cuz they mentioned me in a post saying i might be a good source for fic recs #which is truly hilarious because although i spent thousands of dollars studying writing #i don't write and i'm a spirk fic garbage disposal so like i'll read a lot of stuff regardless of objective quality #though i truly enjoyed all the fics listed above!!!! go give them some love!!!!!#if you haven't already!!#if you have give them more love!!#fic rec #fanfic

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miscellaneous--musings · 6 years ago

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Three Times, One Time

Detroit Become Human

Prompt by @brascul

Prompt: The three times Connor protects someone and the one time someone returns the favor.

Characters: Hank, Connor, Gavin, Kara, Alice, Markus, Luther, North, Josh, Simon

Ships: none

Warnings: contains swearing, blood, gun fights

A/N: This prompt was by the lovely @brascul you can go to their blog to find the lists of prompts. I’d like it here but my internet is too slow to find the post...sorry. This is one of my first Detroit: Become Human fics. I have some experience in writing imagines, not fanfictions. As for warnings, that is fairly new to me. So if I missed something or you would like to request something be listed in warnings, let me know. But I hope this is good.

Word Count: 2,649

Connor was done chasing deviants. They were legal now, there was no reason to chase them. But his programming was still law enforcement. For that reason, he offered to take up a protection detail for Markus. With Markus’s new position as an android leader, he would be under threat constantly. From humans obviously. And there were a few androids who were content with their lives before Markus caused chaos. Those were the biggest threats.

Markus had forgiven Connor for his actions against him and Jericho. And Connor had nearly killed him when CyberLife tried to take control of him. So Connor also felt honor bound to help Markus. And Markus reluctantly let him aid him in this way. Markus didn’t want Connor to risk his life, Markus wasn’t keen on sacrificing anyone. In fact, Markus had a bad habit of throwing himself in harms way to save others. But Connor would protect Markus. In truth, he was glad that Markus agreed in the end. Because Connor would’ve protected Markus anyway.

Markus and his trusted group—North, Josh, Simon—were the unofficial leaders of the android race. There had been no official decision on who should represent the androids or how representation should be carried out. But Connor had no doubt that Markus would be the first android representative. Right now, however, he was the one to meet with the humans. He was the one to carry out negotiations and talks for peace and civil rights. North, Josh, and Simon were his advisors. Markus called Connor and advisor as well. And while Connor would occasionally weigh in with his opinion, he knew his place. He was security.

The group was just leaving another peace talk when Connor’s assistance was needed. An android came up to Markus, and AP700 model. The woman profusely thanked Markus for freeing the androids. This was a usual occurrence, androids appreciated what Markus had done for them. Connor took a moment to scan the android. AP700, registered name: Lucy. She had shyly approached Markus, hands politely clasped behind her back. Connor noticed the change though.

While Lucy began to talk more animatedly, she would gesture with her hand. But only one. The other one stayed behind her back, never really moving. Connor eased closer to Markus as he noticed this abnormality. The Lucy android glanced at him, and seemed a little surprised to see the famed ‘deviant hunter’ with the freer of deviants. Connor really wished that title would go away.

However, Lucy inched closer to Markus. Connor noticed she was trying to get between him and Markus. But Connor kept staying close enough to keep and eye on her and intervene if necessary. His fears were well founded. “Oh, enough of this.” The Lucy android grumbled. She brought the other hand out from behind her back and was brandishing a knife.

Connor placed a hand on Markus’s shoulder and pulled him back. This effectively put Connor in front of Markus in a protective stance. Lucy brought the blade forward in a downward strike. Connor moved to avoid in but Lucy still managed to slice Connor’s left arm, exposing circuits and causing blue blood to leak from the opening. But Connor was unfazed. That didn’t damage any important biocomponents. Lucy swung the blade out in front of her causing a gash on Connor’s torso. He let out a strangled noise as it clipped a biocomponent. He steeled himself against the interruption and went to keep protecting Markus. It was his duty.

But suddenly, the Lucy model was tackled. Josh was holding it down. North was contacting the authorities. Simon was finding some way to restrain the android. Markus was checking on Connor. “You didn’t need to do that for me.” Markus told him.

“Yes I did, I am your security officer. I am here to protect you.” Suddenly, Connor felt the effects of the damaged biocomponent. He grunted and dropped down to one knee, and hand over his wounded torso.

“Well, now it’s my job to ensure you get fixed up.” Markus said. He turned to the others. “Do you have everything under control here while I take care of Connor?” He asked.

“Of course Markus.” North answered.

“Good.” Markus reached down and grabbed Connor’s uninjured arm to help him stand upright. He took that same arm and placed it around his shoulders. He assisted Connor back to the old church they used as a back-up shelter. It was being renovated so they could use the building once more. Right now it held all the blue blood and biocomponents they had stolen. Markus stayed by Connor’s side until he was fully repaired.

Connor stumbled into Hank’s home, his home as well. His shirt had cuts in it and was stained blue. Usually thirium evaporates, but it stains clothes just like any other liquid. And Connor’s white shirt would never be wearable again. “Jesus Christ, what happened?” Hank said. He was in front of Connor in mere seconds, looking for the damage.

“I was mildly damaged after protecting Markus. That damage was minimal and I was repaired.” Connor said.

Hank huffed. “Be careful kid. You may be a machine but I’d hate for you to get damaged beyond repair.”

Kara didn’t exactly like Connor, which was fair. He had tried to capture them when he hunted deviants. He thinks he made up for that by now, but Kara was still wary of him. Kara’s family unit, her as well as Alice and Luther, had crossed the boarder successfully. They even set up citizenship in Canada. However, Markus asked them to return and share their story at one of the peace talks.

It was a smart move. Luther talked about working for Zlatko. He talked of all the androids that came through and were torn apart by a cruel human. He told of joining Kara and Alice and the family he found with them. Kara talked about being owned by an abusive owner. How her memories only began in a CyberLife store after being repaired from one of Todd’s beatings. How she became deviant to protect a small girl who was being abused.

And Alice didn’t speak. She was technically a child. But Kara spoke for her. Her trials as well. Alice stayed outside the room. Connor had slipped from the room at one point. He knew Kara’s story well at this point. He was exactly bored because these were important matters, but he knew everything Kara was saying. If anyone had asked him why he slipped out, he would say it was because Hank was trying to contact him. Which wasn’t a lie exactly. However, Hank had just sent Connor a picture of Sumo laying on one of Connor’s shirts (which Connor wasn’t sure how he got it as all his shirts were hanging up in his closet but he suspected Hank had something to do with it) with a caption ‘I think someone is missing you.’

Connor noticed Alice staring out the window. He stepped a bit closer to see if he could determine what the little girl was staring at. There was a cat sitting outside. A small grey tabby cat. Alice watched it as it licked its paws. Kara had talked about Alice’s growing desire for a pet. Connor agreed that the little girl seemed very fascinated by animals. The tabby scampered away from the building. Alice didn’t hesitate before running outside to follow it. Connor instinctually followed.

A child shouldn’t be left unsupervised. And he could contact Kara with their location. Alice walked down the sidewalk a bit to follow the kitten. She reached out a hand and the kitten tentatively sniffed the hand. Alice lowered her hand and pet the cat. She smiled at the animal. The kitten noticed Connor walk up behind Alice and it was enough the frighten it. The kitten ran into the street to flee Connor.

The small cat froze up as car whizzed by. Alice, worried for its safety, raced out into the road after it. She scooped up the cat. Time froze for Connor as he computed the events and options before him. If he failed to do anything Alice would be hit by the cars. So he ran out into the street and pushed the little girl forward. She stumbled forward and onto the sidewalk on the other side of the road. Connor flew forward a shirt distance as a car drove right into him.

Connor grunted in pain. His biocomponents were all malfunctioning. He struggled to send a message to Kara. ‘In street out front. Alice is fine. I require assistance.’ His LED circle spun as the message was sent. Then the circle flashed red before staying a steady red as he lay motionless.

Luckily, Connor had merely gone into power down mode. And they were able to fix all damaged parts. He powered back up and found he was on Hank’s couch. “What did I say about being careful?” Hank said.

“I was trying to protect a child.” Connor defended.

“I know. And you did protect her. You did good kid. You just scared me, that’s all.”

“I apologize Hank.”

In the end, Kara ended up adopting the kitten that Alice had saved.

Gavin Reed. The police officer that hated Connor. But that was alright. Because Hank hated Gavin. And Connor wasn’t fond of Gavin either. It was like a mutual hatred of each other. Unfortunately, Officer Reed was lead investigator for murders. So homicide and murder crossed over a lot. The boys tried to play nice for the sake of their jobs and justice.

While investigating a murder, the three were following a lead. Usually Gavin let Hank and Connor follow up on leads alone. But this was a big case according to Gavin. “And I’m not gonna let the local drunk and Ken doll get all the credit.” So Gavin came with them. And he decided to pester them the whole car ride. There was plenty of cursing in that car ride.

They found a warehouse full of various items and boxes and crates, so they began searching. At one point, a few suspects walked in. When the suspects noticed the cops, they all pulled guns and began firing. The three men dove for cover behind boxes. Hank and Connor dove behind a study and full box. Gavin moved behind a rather empty box. He stood against the box. Connor looked to Reed’s hiding spot.

The box was getting shot up, multiple holes appearing. The box would either be destroyed or a bullet would penetrate the box and hit Gavin.

Gavin Reed had a 31% chance of surviving if he stayed in his current hiding place.

Connor turned toward the detective and got in a position to stand and run. Hank gave him a curious look. “I may need some cover Lieutenant.”

“What the fuck for?” Hank asked. He had his gun drawn but had little opportunity to fire his weapon. Connor pushed himself into a standing position and ran out toward Gavin. “Connor, the fuck are you doing?!” Hank yelled. He stood up and drew fire while Connor ran forward and tackled Gavin, successfully getting him behind a far sturdier box that wouldn’t be penetrated.

“What the fuck are you doing you useless piece of scrap?” Gavin screamed. Then the box he had been standing behind shattered. “Shit.” Gavin breathed and looked to Connor in surprise.

“What I was ‘fucking doing’ was saving your life Detective.” Connor replied matter of factly. Connor then drew his weapon and Gavin did the same. The three men quickly apprehended the suspects.

“You two alright?” Hank asked after the suspects were down.

“Yes, Lieutenant.” Connor replied.

“I’m fucking fine Anderson.” Gavin snarked at Hank.

Hank walked over to Connor and scanned him up and down. He smiled slightly. “That was the furthest thing from careful. But there’s not a drop of thirium on you.” Connor looked down and realized he had indeed not been hit by any bullets. “Good job kid.”

It was only a few weeks later that they were investigating another crime. Gavin was not present this time. The duo was investigating the crime scene. Both the men involved in this crime had left a small blood trail. One led to the victim. Connor knelt down and stuck his pointer and middle finger in the blood pool near the victim. A quick glance to confirm Hank was not watching, and he stuck his fingers in his mouth. A few moments later the analysis came back. Indeed the victim.

Connor found a different blood pool. He did another analysis. He heard Hank grumbled about something. Probably the fact that Connor was “licking” the evidence. It was the suspect. “Lieutenant, the suspect left a trail of his own.” Connor began following the trail. It lead to a different room. Right to a closet. Connor leaned in and pressed an ear to the door. He heard some deep breathing, indicative of someone who is scared or stressed. The suspect was still here.

Connor slowly backed away. He kept the closet in his line of sight. He came close to the room Hank was in. He looked towards his partner. “Hank, please come here for a moment.” Hank walked over to Connor.

“What’s wrong?” Hank asked.

“I believe the suspect is still here.” Connor said. In hindsight, he maybe should’ve lowered his voice. The suspect broke out from his hiding spot. He had a gun trained on Connor. Hank tackled Connor as the suspect fired.

“Argh! Fuck!” Hank said, and pressed a hand to his leg.

“Hank! You’re wounded!” Connor said, worry, a quite unwelcome and unfavorable emotion, filling him.

“Don’t worry about me. Get that motherfucker!” Hank commanded. But Connor knew there were other officers who could apprehend the culprit. He knelt down next to Hank to examine the wound. Luckily it only grazed Hank’s leg and he would recover in only a matter of weeks with proper care and following doctor’s instructions. So it would take Hank longer.

“Why would you risk yourself like that?” Connor asked.

“You were about to be shot. Why the fuck do you think I did that?” Hank said.

“You should’ve let me get injured. I am repairable. You can recover but parts are not replaceable for humans.” Connor reasoned.

Hank grabbed Connor’s collar. “If you got shot through that chest of yours, there’d be no coming back. You are an advanced prototype. That means no parts for you. A bullet would kill you son. And that is the last thing I want. Get that through that plastic skull of yours. Be careful.” With that Hank let go of Connor’s collar and fully laid back on the ground and waited for an ambulance. Connor kept pressure on the wound but remained silent.

A few hours later Hank was waking up in the hospital with his leg wrapped up. “Are you alright Hank?” Connor asked, leaning forward toward Hank.

“Can I get out of here?” He asked. “Then I’ll be fine.” Hank grumbled.

“You will be discharged soon I am sure. The doctor’s confirmed that you will recover fine.” Connor said. “But you have to follow all the doctor’s instructions.”

“Like hell I do.” Hank grumbled.

“Well Hank, if you failed to follow those instructions then you wouldn’t be acting very carefully.” Connor said, the smallest hint of a teasing smile on his face.

Hank looked to Connor is slight disbelief. He knew the android could be a bit of a smart ass but it had gotten worse since he deviated. “Oh fuck you kid.” Hank said. And though those were harsh words, Connor picked up on the compassion in each one. He just hoped his words would actually make Hank listen to the doctors. However, Connor still wasn’t surprised when Hank wasn’t fully recovered for nearly two months.

#fanfic #detroit become human #detroit become human fanfic #dbh connor #dbh hank #dbh markus #dbh alice #abh kara #dbh gavin #not hankcon #don't tag as such

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templarhalo · 7 years ago

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The Master of Mankind's return Chapter 1 The Penitent Guardian and the Soulless Queen.(Having someone to talk too while your walking through an alien dimension killing daemons is always nice.)

Here is the full and complete chapter. When I tried o post this on my phone there was a word limit. I posted this from laptop. This fic may be up on Archive of Our own alongside Endryd Haar: The Riven Hound. Feel free to reblog, message me and send asks to me about this fic and my other projects.

For more shenanigans with the Emperor’s favorite banana check out my ask/RP blog @ask-constaninvaldor

Now that this shameless advertising is now done, i’d like to thank @sisterofsilence and @asklotarasarrin for their help with this fic. I’d also like to thank @ask-tribune-ra @hdreaper, @lontau and @bleachedraptor2 for their reviews on the previous upload of this fic.

Constantin Valdor had seen many ugly things in this universe. He had also seen many beautiful things. The Webway was a mixture of both. The ground he strode across was yellow alien brick, the sky an inky blue with streaks of purple.

Valdor was on a quest. One of atonement. Of redemption. If he was successful, there would be hope for humanity again.

If he failed, the species his master had sacrificed himself for were all doomed.

The former Captain-General was not alone in his endeavor, at his left was the former Knight-Commander of the Sisters of Silence, the warrior maiden without a soul, Jenetia Krole.

Both warrior’s armor were rent and scarred. Constantin's black mourning cloak was in tatters.

The top of Jenetia’ head had a few fresh scars her left arm was bandaged and her.her cloak was gone. The fur pelt that adorned her armor was nothing but scraps.

“We’re getting closer. I can feel it.” Valdor said aloud.

Jenetia didn't reply with words, but her left hand formed a gesture of what was called thoughtmark.

+Are you sure? To be here so soon after only a month of traveling?+

“I feel it my bones Jenetia. This part of the webway. It matches my dreams. The one our King sent to me.”

+I believe you my friend, but as someone who did not receive visions from the Emperor what makes you so sure?+

“The sky. Whatever is keeping the warp form pouring in is failing. Soon it will surge like water through a broken dam. And all the daemons we have faced were minions of the plague god. And they have been fighting with a desperation I have never seen before. Seven of his princes dead by your own blade. Five of them by mine. If we are not close, than why does Nurgle send so many of his finest hellspawn to die at our hands old friend?”

+The gods of Chaos are not conventional foes Constantin. Only the Emperor could see their plots. How do you know we are not walking into a trap?”+

“Jenetia why would our King send me visions of us in the Webway? Or visions of the xenos goddess Nurgle claimed as his prize of war?”

+What if it wasn't Him?+ Jenetia signed.

“It was Him.” Valdor said. The Custodes’ voice cracked a little bit.

“Jenetia It was His psychic signature. I don't know how, but it was Him. I felt it in my bones.” Valdor said.

+I believe you Constantin, but the judgment of someone who is grieving is not always sound. Not to mention this plan of yours is rather simplistic . We break into Nurgle’s realm, kill a ridiculous amount of daemons, save the Eldar goddess Isha and convince her to heal Him or drag her with us back to Terra and force her to heal him+

“Simple plans are sometimes the best.” Valdor said evenly.

+Sometimes I forget how much of a fracking idiot you are Constantin Valdor+ she signed.

“If I'm a fracking idiot why did you accompany me than?” Valdor asked.

+Because someone has to keep your golden ass alive. And I want Him back too+ she signed.

The two friends conversation was interrupted by the sound of 70 slimy footsteps. More daemons.

+Plaguebearers+ Jentia signed.

The Lesser daemons charged the pair, Plagueswords raised. Valdor sent four to their death with a swing of his spear. Jenetia split one’s head open like an eggshell with Veracity. The two carved through the horde of daemons with the ease of two friends who had fought alongside each other for years. The Apollonian Spear and Veracity rose and fell, rose and fell until all who stood against their wielders were dead.

Valdor paused to catch his breath. Jenetia remained silent.

+That would have gone quicker if we hadn’t run out of ammunition a few days ago+

“I actually have one round left.” Valdor said.

Jenetia was about to reply when the ground began to rumble. A sound similar to that of a stomach growling filled the air of the ancient dimension.

The sky fell, and reality was shattered.

Hundreds of thousands of Nurgles Daemons poured into this section of the Webway. Nurglings, Plague Bearers, Blight Drones,

+You going to use that one round?+ Jenetia signed as the two ran like frack.

“I was saving it for a tight spot.” Valdor said as the alien road crumbled like Horus’ masculinity.

+Up ahead, it looks like a portal of some kind+

The portal was grey octagonal thing with shimmering yellow and pink light. Eldar runes were carved into it.

This better take us to Nurgle’s Mansion and not a Harlequin’s Bathhouse. Valdor thought.

Constantin scooped Jenetia, her crimson tresses briefly obscuring her vision. Jenetia did not question the Custodian picking her up like Malcador’s cat or a damsel in distress. She understood he did not want to loose her in case the portal separated them.

Valdor ran faster than the time a horde of sugar high Ligo Aetos chased him and Ra around the Tranquil Courts. Shifting his left shoulder forward, Valdor jumped into the xenos portal.

The second they emerged from the portal, Jenetia leapt out of Valdor’s arms. She tucked her lithe form into a ball, her topknot swaying as she rolled forward, Veracity drawn and ready to carve up daemons like lamb chops.

Valdor did not share the Sister of Silence’s grace, he stumbled forward and fell face first on the ground. He coughed up greyish dirt and black tar like liquid.

Valdor groaned, stared at the ground, than at the sky. “We are we?” he asked. +The Formless Wastes+ Jenetia signed +Our King told me this is simultaneously the most valuable and the most useless part of the Realm of Chaos. No god of Chaos has claimed this territory but many Greater Daemons and Daemon Princes have carved out their own little estates here+

Valdor surveyed the area. “I was hoping for a more direct route to our objective,but at least we’re out of the Webway.”

+Progress is progress, now all we have to do is find a daemon of Nurgle, beat the snot of out and then my silence will force it to tell us the route to Nurgle’s Mansion.+ Jenetia signed.

Constantin smiled at her.

He felt something he hadn’t felt since before the Heresy.

Hope

He sighed and breathed in the tainted air.

“We best get moving Jenetia.” Valdor said.

+You are smiling+ Jenetia signed.

“No i’m not.” Valdor replied.

+How long have we known each other Constanin? You are smiling. I haven’t seen you smile since, by the Throne, I can’t remember You’ve been as stoic as Dorn since the War in the Webway. Arlette told me talking to you since than was like she was dealing with a Ligo Aetos and not the First of the Ten Thousand. +

Valdor was about the reply, when something large and as heavy as a Coronus Grav-Carrier slammed into him and sent him sprawling to the ground.

He quick recovered, the Apollonian Spear ready to mete out a swift end to whoever had attacked him. He stared at what had attacked him and couldn’t believe his eyes.

Two figures, one clad in armor that had once been shining gold, now in the black of a son who had believed he had failed his father. The other clad in armor the color the sky during a storm were trading blows with the fury only brothers could.

“I can’t believe you abandoned your chapter your fracking braindead lout!” the figure in black yelled. His hair had once been neatly close cropped but was not messily styled and trimmed, like it had been cut with a combat knife. His eyes were blue. His hair and stubble the color of freshly fallen snow. He smashed the stump where his left hand had once been into the target of his insults face.

“We thought you died you stubborn bastard!” the figure in grey roared. The demigod’s hair was blonde, his eyes that of a man who lusted for life and the death of the wicked in equal measure. He blocked the blows to his canine-like face with his arms

“I’ve been trapped here in the Warp, I never ran off to find some made up way to restore our father!” the one clad in mourning black screamed.

“Rogal? Leman?” Constantin asked.

+This is surprising.+ Jenetia signed. She then made the gesture for “laughing my ass off.” in Thoughtmark.

The two primarchs stopped fighting.

“Constantin!” Russ said joyfully. The Primarch of the Space Wolves embraced the Custodes in a bear hug.

“And your looking as radiant as ever Lady Krole!” Russ bellowed

+Is that a joke, Wolf-King?+ Jenetia signed.

+Tis the truth m’lady.+ Russ replied in Thoughtmark.

Leman turned to the Primarch of the Imperial Fists.

“Aren't ya going to greet them Rogal?” Leman said.

Rogal sighed, his stony features scrunched up.

“Greetings Captain-General Valdor, Greetings Knight Commander Krole.” Rogal said.

“So what are ya doing here?” Leman asked.

Valdor decided to bite the bolt round and the tell the two sons of his King why he and his closest friend where in the Realm of Chaos.

“I received visions from the Emperor. Visions of Jenetia and I in the Webway. Visions of Nurgle’s mansion.

I intend to rescue the Eldar goddess Isha from Nurgle’s clutches,and convince her or force her to return to Terra with us, so that she may heal the Emperor and save humanity.” Valdor said.

Leman Russ broke out in laughter.

Rogal Dorn’s right eye twitched,his features darkened.

“Have you gone mad Constantin Valdor? If the Emperor needed to a filthy xenos He would have told us when we placed him on that damned throne!.” Rogal shouted.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but calm yourself brother. And besides you don’t need a xenos sorcerer. I set out to find the Tree of Life!” Leman said

For the second time, Jenetia Krole made the sign for “Laughing my ass off.”

+The Tree of Life was destroyed during the final days of the Terran Unification Wars Leman Russ. It was not a source of untainted Warp Energy, but an artifact of the Dark Age of Technology that consumed the souls of psykers to sustain it user. The Emperor judged it to be dangerous and so that He would not be tempted to use its evil power destroyed with the blade I now wield+

Leman Russ immediately began cursing in Fenrisian. Constantin grasped all of it including apart that mentioned something about leaving an Astartes named Bjorn behind.

Rogal slowly shook his head.

+How did you end up here Rogal?+ Jenetia asked.

“I was separated from my chapter. The traitors have returned. Sigismund- Dorn’s wavered for just the fraction of a second.

“Sigismund had been waiting outside the Eye with his chapter. He was convinced that the traitors would return one day. He was right. The traitor's returned. Horus’ 1st Captain Abaddon was leading them. They sent his body to Terra. I only had three Companies of my chapter with me, the rest were scattered on other campaigns. When we arrived at Cadia we were vastly outnumbered. Hundreds of ships against the Phalanx and Three Strike Cruisers We launched hit and run and attacks on their fleet. Of Abaddon on the Vengeful Spirit, there was no sign. I led an assault on the one of the Traitors battleships, the Sword of Sacrilege. We stormed the bridge but we were overwhelmed. I ordered my sons to retreat. My Huscarls were slain, just before we made it to the savior pods. I lost my hand to a World Eater with an Eviscerator. It ended up in one of the savior pods My blade joined it when it was knocked out of my hands by a thunder hammer. Somehow when I was killing the remaining World Eaters with my remaining fist the pod was launched. The ship made a warp jump just as I had entered another savior pod It crashed here, why I ran into Leman.”

“Quite a tale.” Valdor said.

“Yes.” Rogal said. The seventh primarch’s mask of stone was back in place now. Any traces of his anger now carefully veiled.

“So which way is Nurgle’s Mansion?” Russ asked.

“Unknown. We’ll have to beat the answer out of one of the Plague God’s Daemons.” Valdor said.

Sounds like fun,” Russ said with a grin.

“What do ya think Rogal?” Leman said.

“If there is a way to revive our father, even it involves a filthy xenos whe should take it. The Imperium cannot survive without him.”

“Than we are in agreement.” Valdor said.

Valdor resumed his quest with a somewhat lighter heart. The burden of his failure was still heavy on him. But he was close to finding the one thing that could save his King. Not to mention his best friend and two of his King’s sons that he could actually tolerate were by his side.

Things were looking up.

As the four resumed their quest unaware a Nurgling had been watching their entire conversation.

The adorable daemon disappeared in a poof! of green smoke.

The Nurgling reappeared in the hallways of a decrepit manor. Scampering across rotting wood and leaving a slimy trail behind it , the daemon made its way to its master’s chambers.

A short pudgy man sat on a stool, stirring a cauldron. His eyes were a sick green. His hair greasy and receding.

“What is it?” Nurgle asked.

The Nurgling screeched and bleated in a language only Nurgle and those who gave their souls to him could understand.

Nurgle laughed, his seven chins jiggling. He scooped the Nurgling up in his arms and it nuzzled against his belly.

“So the Anathema wishes to take away my beloved and walk the mortal plain again” Nurgle mused. The plague god was not scared. Sure he had tried to prevent the Anathema’s pet and the abomination that followed him from entering the realm of Chaos and sent a horde of his daemon kin to kill them, but he knew his pretty ones would stand no chance.

The plague god stirred his cauldron and contemplated his options.

He’d send Mortarion. Yes her would summon Mortarion and have deal with his two brothers and the Custodian and the pariah.

And if he failed, well it had been quite some time since he had gotten his hands dirty

#the master of mankind's return #warhammer 40k #fanfiction #Constantin Valdor #Jenetia Krole #Noblebright

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clairekatswritingcorner · 7 years ago

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Security Breach

Word Count: 2,606

Summary: Matt and his father encounter an unexpected visitor at their newly established rebel base following their escape from Galra imprisonment.

*Author’s Note*: This fic is super outdated considering all the canon information we know now, but with Season 3 on the horizon I couldn’t help but post this fic I’ve had in my drafts for ages. It’s a gift fic for @impendingexodus, and although it’s certainly far from how the canon route seems to be taking things, I hope it’s still enjoyable!

(also available on my Ao3, located on my main blog links)

Their base was a quiet and secure as usual as Matt cycled through his routine maintenance and security checks. Such a system may have appeared tedious and even unnecessary to some, but Matt knew that it had to be maintained; even if the monotony of repeatedly observing the same blinking lights and status messages perturbed the fledgling engineer turned resistance leader every now and then. In a way Matt considered such checks an empty formality, but he had been through enough to know that even if things appeared to be calm and undisturbed, everything he knew and trusted could be turned on its head in an instant. He shook his head and rubbed his temple, squinting as he tried to refocus on the chart in his hand, marking off yet another cleared checkpoint.

It had been at least six months, or whatever the equivalent of that time passing on this planet was, since Matt had escaped Galra captivity and reunited with his father. Their journey had been long and questionable, barely succeeding on the half skill, half luck Matt had cultivated throughout his stint in grueling Galra captivity. Locating and reuniting with his father had been its own complicated struggle, but at the end of the day they both managed to slip away by the skin of their teeth.

Upon their escape and unexpected landing on the first planet they were able to warp away to, they found they weren’t alone. A number of pods from both their mass prison break and various other successful attempts from around the galaxy had apparently been programmed to warp to the same random coordinates, stranding a mixed bag of aliens from all over the cosmos together on one barren and seemingly uninhabited planet.

As if that wasn’t surprising enough, it quickly became apparent to the exiled refugees that they weren’t the first beings to find and erect some sort of dwelling here. It was almost too good to be true, landing in the proximity they did to make contact with a makeshift community that harbored life capable of communication. This initial group was stunned and moderately defensive at the sudden and overwhelming arrival of so many different species. The mere volume of prisoners was intimidating on its own, but after some much needed explaining and doling out of compromises, an agreement between all groups was successful reached.

And so this mixed bag of a fringe vigilante community flourished on an isolated, abandoned planet floating aimlessly in the vast infinity of space. From the get go there were a few among the rabble that rose up to positions of leadership and guidance, although it was clear that the community should unanimously agree on who was running operations and managing this new settlement. Matt was more surprised than his father at the overwhelming nomination he received as both a battle tactician and a base commander. Many of the escapees from his prison, his father included, vouched for Matt and shared stories of his brave and inspiring jailbreak in great detail, bolstering support for him in a way that he hadn’t experienced before.

Sure, getting top marks at the Garrison and getting to attend a survey mission to a distant icy planet with Shiro and his father was one thing. But being nominated as a commander of a multi-species resistance group that barely had the makings of a legitimate base on a planet in the dead of space? Matt didn’t know how he could possibly handle the responsibility, much less if he had the skills to carry out the kind of tasks that would be required of him. Most of Matt’s enthusiasm and courage for his initial escape attempt had come from the necessity to reunite with those he cherished. Seeing so much torture, bloodshed, and loss while being passed around the Galra prison chain, and experiencing some himself, was almost enough to break him. On the precipice of such despair, Matt pushed himself to overcome the desolation and find a reason to keep looking forward. His love for his family and friends, and his desire to see them again, were the only things that had been persuasive enough to help him find the courage to form and carry out his escape.

Matt found himself overwhelmed at the idea of being placed in any sort of command position, especially for a situation like this. He felt that he had barely managed to execute a successful escape on the mixture of adrenaline and the small but strong personal desires that drove him. After a few lengthy, heartfelt, and inspiring conversations with his father, though, Matt began to understand just how worthwhile his intuitive thinking and Garrison training were. Whether he liked it or not, Matt was a shining rebel recruit, and his reputation wasn’t something that could be replaced or easily earned. Once again Matt turned to remembering his family back home, and the friend that sacrificed so much for both he and his father, to inspire him to take the necessary action.

The relief and joy that he felt even just being back by his father’s side was enough to remind Matt why he had come this far. The title of Commander wasn’t something he could take lightly, and there was no one who knew better whether he deserved such an honor as the man who reassuringly patted him on the back now. Upon reuniting with his son, Sam Holt had become an incredible support, confidant, and inspiration for him, surprised that Matt seemed blind to just how much he had done for him in return. Eventually, though, Matt came to see some sort of light outside of the one that shined within him, urging him on, and accepted that he needed to do what would make both his family and Shiro proud. Apart from that, he wanted to do whatever it took to keep himself and the rest of the new settlement’s inhabitants safe.

Finally coming to a decision, Matt took his place as an official resistance leader and a key commander of this rebel colony. Apart from rebuilding and reinforcing the established community, though, the job wasn’t all that glamorous, and Matt spent most of his time routinely checking the various base systems as he was now. It had been a bit of a challenge to adjust to seeing and reading things without his glasses, but with the mixture of alien languages and symbols this base used, Matt had become accustomed to recognizing the important ones with ease. Color coding was also a widespread problem solver.

Matt sighed and continued down the line of glowing lights that appeared no more out of sync to him than usual, perking up a bit as he heard the sound of footsteps pick up on the roof above him. The underground cellar he was checking now covered the general maintenance of the electrical and heating systems for the compound, and the increase of ruckus in the facility above made Matt a little uneasy. There wasn’t really a precedent of any kind of catastrophe occurring here that would inspire panic, but the events that happened next only served to reinforce his belief in trusting his intuition.

“Matt, are you almost finished up down there?” Sam’s voice crackled through the radio attached to Matt’s hip, its static laced tone causing a metallic echo that bounced between the walls. “There’s something I think you should see.”

“Yeah, Dad, I’ll head back up in a minute.”

A heavy silence preceded Sam’s reply, and Matt swallowed reflexively. “I don’t know if we have a minute.”

Suddenly, the piercing and repetitive shriek of a siren broke through the compound’s speakers, partially drowning out Sam’s voice the second time he radioed. Matt tucked his notebook and pen away as he sprinted towards the cellar exit, climbing to the floor above swiftly and silently. He narrowly avoided getting trampled as he burst into the hallway above. Warning lights and sirens were blaring in tandem as Matt ducked into the chaos in the hall, weaving his way through the equally hurried and frantic bodies as he made his way out of the previous wing to the main control hub.

“What’s our status, what did the radar pick up?” he demanded as he burst into the room, wasting no time in making his way to the control panel and its several monitors.

“Looks like a foreign object, heading this way at high velocity,” Sam answered, slightly distracted himself as he typed away at the keyboard before him. “It’s too small for our radars to determine exactly what kind of object it is yet.”

“Is it just a single bogey or are we gonna have a fleet on our hands?” Matt asked, leaning over to examine the same screen Sam was interpreting.

“There doesn’t appear to be any outside interference or accompaniment, but that doesn’t mean this isn’t some kind of distraction for a bigger trap.”

Matt grit his teeth, patting his dad on the back before turning to head back out.

“Matt, where do you think you’re going?”

“If it’s going to be something unfriendly, we’ll need someone out there to greet it. Or detain it. Whatever’s going to give us the best outcome.”

“I just said it could be a trap. We can’t be too hasty--”

“We don’t have time to worry about hastiness in a situation like this. You know that! This is the first contact we’ve had from a any outside anomaly since the first big break that got us here. If it’s some sort of tracker, or a signal that the Galra’ve located us, it needs to be dealt with before it can relay any information back to its home base.”

“None of our missiles are able to get a lock on it, Commanders,” one of the weapon monitors interrupted. Matt’s fists clenched at the news. “It’s like it’s dodging everything we try to lob at it, or it’s destroying them before they’re able to reach. I still can’t get a reading on what kind of defense system it’s employing.”

“And what about offensive?”

“Negative, it hasn’t deployed anything apart from defensive measures.”

“I’m going out there, Dad, I’ll take a team with me. But we have to know what this is. It’s outsmarting all our equipment, we can’t take a chance.”

Without waiting for a response, Matt exited the room and stopped by one of the compound’s several weapon caches, rounding up some trusted soldiers as he made his way out. A system of training and appropriate drills for all types of emergency situations had been established not long after the settlement was appropriately set up. Matt was grateful to be working with people who were on the same page and who had some form of experience with this type of situation. He and his makeshift team carefully made their way to the impact zone after the object hit, a strange aura of purple smoke rising from it. Matt and the team were all too familiar with the overbearing shade that accompanied most if not all official Galra Empire property. Matt raised his stun staff as he broke away from the group, directing them to stay back as he approached and examined the object. If there were going to be any losses from this endeavor, he wanted them to be as minimal as possible.

Matt crept closer to the shallow crater, surprised that whatever seemed to have hit didn’t appear to be a technological or weaponized device of any sort. In fact it didn’t even appear to be a device. As Matt came to the edge of the crater he dropped his staff, dropping to his knees in the same moment as his eyes fell upon the last thing he expected to see.

“Shiro?”

His voice was dry and hoarse as Matt shuffled closer on his knees, falling to his hands as he leaned closer and the purple steam cleared. Shiro, the Takashi Shirogane, the Garrison officer and long lost friend that Matt had hoped but couldn’t believe survived the Galra arena, was nestled in the rocky earth. He appeared entirely unharmed, bearing no scars but the ones from his experiences with the Galra and their unique brand of both testing and torture. Matt felt tears drip down his face as a strangled cry escaped his throat. He held his breath for a moment, wondering if the next time he blinked the scene before him would vanish.

“Commander, is everything alright?”

Matt’s senses snapped back to reality as he wiped his eyes roughly, reaching down and lugging his friend out of his hole. “I need a stretcher and our top medical personnel ASAP! We’ve got another survivor here, we need to make sure he’s stable!”

Matt was reluctant to let Shiro leave his side yet again, but for the sake of ensuring his friend’s health and recovery from whatever kind of journey he’d just made, he knew it was necessary. Handing him off to their chief medical staff, Matt collapsed into his father’s arms the moment Sam came for him. The two held each other, exhausted from both surprise and nerves as the reality that their third musketeer had finally returned hit them. Battered, war worn, and having just gone through some sort of mystical space journey that neither Matt nor Sam expected they’d be able to comprehend, they were both just relieved to know Shiro was alive. Yet another lost sheep had made it back to the fold. Reunited with his father and his dearest friend, maybe the idea that there really was a better and successful future ahead wasn’t as hopeless as Matt had thought.

They sat silently together in the medical bay hall, neither refusing to leave the area until they got confirmation of Shiro’s status. It took every ounce of self control for Matt not to seize the first alien that stepped out of the room, his nerves clenched for whatever news came next. His eyes darted to the doctor that stepped out, but like many of the aliens he had encountered in this new phase of life, Matt wasn’t completely accustomed to reading their unique expressions.

“Is he going to be alright? Is he alive?” he blurted, holding back his body but not his tongue.

The doctor waited a moment before answering. “He’s alive, and stable. Or at least, as stable as he can be. He appears to be suspended in a state of self preservation, but even with our technology and resources, it’s a challenge to accurately determine the details of this state or how long he’ll stay in it.”

So, Shiro was in a type of space coma. It wasn’t the best news, but he was alive and in one piece, so it was better than Matt or Sam could hope for. They both nodded at the doctor, who returned to the bay and the diligent work being done within. Sam and Matt sat in silence, both of them contemplating the mixture of disbelief and confused relief they felt at their situation. Shiro had returned, but he was essentially unresponsive, and for all they knew he would be stuck that way forever. Despite the possible hopelessness of such an outcome, Matt refused to let it crush him. He had his best friend and his father back, and if it took him the rest of his life, and winning whatever kind of intergalactic war he’d become a refugee of, Matt would find a way to free his friend. Shiro was the one who had given him the chance to have this outlandish new life; the least Matt could do was return the favor.

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #vld #matt holt #sam holt #takashi shirogane #voltron fic #my writing #claire writes #impendingexodus

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acourtofstarsanddreams-blog · 8 years ago

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In Over Our Heads- a Lucien & Tamlin fic

Summary: A look into Tamlin and Lucien’s reactions when Feyre’s goodbye letter arrives at the Spring Court.

For @feyreaelinmaas from her request in my inbox, I never do this (meaning write things and share them, lol) but I was very intrigued and inspired by the prompt that you asked for! I hope...well, I hope you like it. I’m not sure if it’s what you wanted or expected but...here it is.

Also thanks to the lovely @abookandacoffee for answering my million questions and being a nice beta to me :)

******

Tamlin was pacing in his study murmuring, like he had been for so many days and nights in the months since past, almost so quiet that Lucien’s Fae ears strained to hear. Mumbling quickly, mostly to himself it seemed, he tossed ideas old and new at Lucien about ways to get Feyre back to the Spring Court.

“Maybe we should let her be, Tam–“ Lucien started, but was interrupted by the golden-haired High Lord sweeping his long arm across the desk, scattering paperwork, old war books, pens and other debris, his emerging claws leaving deep gouges in the mahogany.

“No! Feyre needs to come home. Her home is here, in the Spring Court. She belongs here, with me. She’s mine,” he says, panting, his rage twisting into something that sounded quite like desperation.

“There’s no way to break the bargain, Tamlin. We’ve tried everything,” Lucien pleaded, turning his russet eye upon his High Lord. Anything to stop this madness. Lucien didn’t doubt his love for Feyre, but it was slowly destroying him. Like a poison, it seeped into his veins, burning and twisting until he wasn’t sure if any of the Tamlin he knew remained.

“We haven’t tried enough! There might be a way yet, Lucien,” Tamlin said, still breathing quite heavily from his outburst. It was clear he had more to say.

Lucien waited for him to continue, keeping a healthy distance between where Tamlin stood behind the trashed desk. The wood of the doorframe dug into Lucien’s back as he leaned against it, feigning a casual look.

“I’ve been speaking with Ianthe, and she says she may know–may know of a way,“ Tamlin finished.

“There is no way, Tamlin. This is madness. A fool’s errand,” Lucien dared to speak.

“No. Not this way. Ianthe has friends in high places, and–“

Tamlin stopped speaking as a tiny flash of light appeared over his desk, gone before either of them could blink. In its place, a sealed letter had appeared. As innocent as the scrap of parchment it was, Lucien knew it contained something far more dangerous.

Tamlin stared for a few moments before lunging for the letter like it held the key to his salvation. Lucien hovered near the doorway, knowing somehow, in his gut, that the letter had come from the Night Court.

With slightly shaking hands, Tamlin opened the letter with delicate fingers, his claws mercifully retracted. For now, Lucien thought.

It took him but a few moments to read the entirety of the letter, or at least, Lucien mused, he had read enough. With a look of utter calm, Tamlin set what Lucien assumed to be Feyre’s letter, down on the marred desk.

“Go find Ianthe,” Tamlin said, in a chilling voice not entirely his own.

Lucien could sense the tang of magic, smell it, taste it, before it sounded in the air. The furniture shook, bric-a-brac clattered on shelves, and the very foundation of the manor seemed to groan, bowing under the weight of Tamlin’s barely contained magic. Lucien wasn’t sure whether to stay and try to calm him, and risk becoming a casualty of Tamlin’s outburst, or if he should leave the High Lord to his own devices, and find Ianthe like he’d ordered.

Then, without warning, Tamlin let out a roar that Lucien thought, magic aside, might bring the manor down on its very own. Find Ianthe it is, Lucien thought as he fled the study, quickly creating space between him and where Tamlin raged.

From his position in the house, Lucien could hear shattering, valuables breaking, servants and lesser Fae about the manor screaming and shouting at the unknown source of attack.

Flashes of light flared from the shattered windowpanes of Tamlin’s office, his beastly roaring still thundering in waves, rippling over the manor right alongside his magic.

Lucien strode quickly through the halls of the manor, a full floor below the study where Tamlin was wreaking havoc, all the while looking for a flash of golden-blonde hair or the sweeping, elegant blue robes of the High Priestess.

As Tamlin’s outcries continued to rumble through the manor, Lucien wondered if there was anything left for him to break. The servants must be used to this by now, he thought.

Lucien wondered where Ianthe could possibly be. The manor, while large, wasn't so vastly sprawling that he should be unable to detect her. Had she fled, returning to Gods knows where? Wherever she dwelled when she wasn’t here, whispering in Tamlin’s ear and treating Feyre like a plaything. Continuing to prey on him, despite his rejections of her rather brash and incessant advances. What, exactly, did she know that he and Tamlin didn’t?

Ianthe was nowhere to be found. Lucien eventually gave up and stopped looking, strolling at a leisurely pace back to his quarters, wearing a cool mask of indifference, all the while servants still paced about nervously, some more frightened than others.

Finally, after what seemed like quite some time, Tamlin’s outburst stopped. The manor had stopped shaking, glass had stopped raining down from the shattered windows–Lucien figured it was probably safe to check on him.

The servants were still bustling about as he made his way to the study, though there were less and less of them as he neared the wing in question.

He was afraid to look, not sure if he'd prefer Tamlin to have remained in his destroyed study or not. But alas, Tamlin wasn't there when he peered through the doorframe, the cracked and splintered door hanging on its hinges.

The room was in chaos. The shelves were overturned and broken, books shredded, glass from baubles and windows littering the floor, reflecting the afternoon sun. The desk was flipped, the chair in pieces about the room.

Lucien’s good eye gaped at the havoc spread before him. It was then that he noticed, his metal eye whirring, the seemingly unharmed scrap of paper lying just atop an overturned shelf. He walked over towards it, glass and wood crunching underneath his boots, and picked it up.

Lucien’s hand shook with anxiety and maybe a little bit of fear, fear at what information Tamlin had gleaned from this simple scrap of parchment. With his slender, pale fingers, he opened the letter and read:

I left of my own free will. I am cared for and safe. I am grateful for all that you did for me, all that you gave. Please don’t come looking for me. I’m not coming back.

Signed by Feyre.

Lucien read it twice through just to be sure, to know that it wasn’t some farce or illusion crafted by the deadly Lord of the Night. He even swept his magic out over the letter, feeling it out, seeing if there was any trick to it other than ink on paper. He knew, without having seen it before, that this was Feyre’s handwriting. Had Rhysand taught her to read?

With all that he’d heard of the Night Court and the Court of Nightmares, how could Feyre truly be happy, truly be safe there? What was a hellish court of terrifying, otherworldly monsters compared to the peace and tranquility that the Spring Court offered?

He hoped what Feyre had written was true. Despite his initial dislike of her, he had grown to care for her, truly, as a friend. He indeed hoped she was safe, hoped she was happy, even if it was with Rhysand in his Nightmare Court. Anything was better than seeing her waste away day by day.

He had known Feyre had been close to her wits end, so close to breaking, but no amount of convincing could make Tamlin see reason. To make him see that he was suffocating her, smothering her with a blanket of oppression masquerading as protection and love.

Just let her leave the grounds without sentries he had asked, let her train and figure out what powers she may have. But Tamlin would have none of it. Something had broken him, broken in him when they had all suffered Under the Mountain. When Feyre had given again and again, and Tamlin could do nothing.

He supposed it was just as well, that Feyre had finally found peace after what she had sacrificed for them. That at least one of them had found a way to escape what had happened Under the Mountain, to escape the horrors of their past. Lucien’s throat tightened as other terrors, other memories of a time long ago fluttered through his mind.

The sound of a servant’s call brought him back to the present.

With one final sigh, Lucien once more surveyed the room, taking in the disarray, the splintered furniture and the shattered belongings. He set Feyre’s letter back where he'd found it, lest he incur Tamlin’s wrath for touching it.

Lucien hovered in the doorway for a moment longer, and watched as tiny specks of dust and debris drifted down to lay atop the clutter, and then set off to find his High Lord.

#lucien #tamlin #acomaf #fanfic #my writing #feyre #acotar #acomaf fanfic #spring court #ianthe #oh god please don't judge me #first fanfic

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