#i need to reread escaping peril | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pinkofatom · 2 months ago

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An irresistible offer

Cassandra put her glasses down on the wooden desk. She tried to alleviate a headache by pinching her nose. Again this insistent company sent an offer. HEXBIM. The name elicited a huff of annoyance. Red hair fell freely as Cassandra rolled her neck. The constant pressure of non-stop messages built up uncomfortable tension.

How dare these corporate drones thought she needed their help. Cassandra became a successful therapist on her own merits. Yes her methods were unconventional — and light on prescriptions. But every single person that reached out for help, left only satisfied.

Bing! Another offer filled her mailbox. Bleary-eyed the therapist read the topic. Letters swam in front of her eyes. Rubbing her eyes Cassandra put on her glasses. With a sigh she opened the cursed message. Maybe if she gave a scathing answer they would finally cease.

Dear Cassandra,

We are HEXBIM, a company specializing in cutting edge technologies, dedicated to helping people reach their full potential.

We recently became aware of your exceptional therapeutic practice. After much consideration, we have decided to adjust our sponsorship proposal to suit your unique requirements and ensure it meets your needs.

The font made the letters dance. Cassandra had to reread it a few times. It did not help her headache. But — she had to admit — it sounded good. Shaking her head the redhead continued.

We are proud of the exceptional success rates our sponsored therapists have achieved, with 100% client satisfaction guaranteed.

By accepting this proposal, you'll receive top-of-the-line technology and cutting-edge therapeutic techniques, ensuring your clients experience transformative results like never before.

Cassandra's eyebrow rose. This sounded far too good. And tailored to her. A twinge of worry curled inside her. However the redhead couldn't stop.

To prove our expertise we have included a simple sample in form of a program.

Please inform us of its effectiveness and of your agreement.

Best regards,

Annika, HEXBIM Connect

Cassandra let out an undignified snort. Did they think she was stupid enough to fall for such bait. Her long fingers moved over the touch pad. Cassandra was going to write them an answer they wouldn't forget. Her mouse pointer hovered over the file. This headache killed her.

Cassandra clicked it. And a new program popped open.

Soothing music filled the office. It made the redhead relax. Her eyes grew heavy and Cassandra's head nodded forward.

A flash of light made her flinch. A simple image of concentric circles appeared on the screen. The colors moved in waves.

Relaxation spread through the redhead's body. Her mouth grew slack and drool collected on her tongue. A single drop escaped Cassandra's lips and landed on her blouse.

Another wave of sounds assaulted the redhead. They mixed with the pain. She felt a strange, unbidden need to keep staring. Her mind tumbled towards it, her focus narrowing as all other thoughts fell away.

Cassandra tried to tear her gaze from it. She tried to move her hands. To close her eyes. But all she managed to do was let out a soft whimper. It felt like something had a hold of her mind. She sagged into her chair.

The redhead felt helpless, her mind trapped within an inescapable web. With each futile effort to free herself, her willpower waned. The music, the light... they seeped into her mind. Every note, every flicker of the colors seemed designed to chip away at her resolve, ensnaring her in their hypnotic grip. Panic surged within Cassandra as she realized the true extent of her peril.

And then a voice came through. It cut through her thoughts like a hot knife, making the therapist whimper.

"I know it feels bad." Cassandra whined.

"Your head is a mess of worries. You feel powerless, unable to help." Her hands clenched the desk. Her knuckles grew white. Cassandra's face contorted.

"But that ends here." A soft gasp escaped the therapist's lips. It was true! All those thoughts that swirled through her head, all that stress. She couldn't stop herself. Tears fell down Cassandra's cheeks and the redhead sobbed in relief.

"HEXBIM has the solution." Cassandra felt the tension and worry drain. "All you have to do is accept." Her face lit up.

"And that's all." She sagged back in her seat. Cassandra felt... relaxed, almost. The redhead felt so light, like she could fly. A soft moan of bliss fell from her parted lips.

"Your clients will become happier, better. They will transform into perfect versions of themselves." Cassandra smiled. "Drones owned by HEXBIM." Her smile became an expression of utter happiness. "And all you have to do is guide them." She felt such an urge to help.

"Open your mind." Her thoughts slowed to a crawl. Cassandra couldn't form a cohesive thought if her life depended on it.

"Listen." She did, listening to the soft music and the dulcet tone. "Watch." The redhead stared into the shifting colors, her eyes growing wide.

"And learn."

🌀🌀🌀

Cassandra let out a long moan. She was in the back of her clinic. Strapped into reclining chairs rested her receptionist and assistant. VR-headsets obscured their faces. The redhead remembered the instructions from that message. Cassandra was going to guide them to become better versions of themselves. To transform into drones for HEXBIM.

Another shiver ran down the redhead's back. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. It felt right, she knew that this was the correct way to help — the only way to help. In response to her thoughts the tight latex uniform buzzed. Vibrations danced over her sensitive skin. A gasp of delight and lust escaped the redhead. Her head nodded forward as she enjoyed her obedience.

Cassandra had to make sure her assistants would be transformed properly. That they would reach their full potential and become the best versions of themselves — perfect, happy drones for HEXBIM.

Her long fingers flew over the controls and a soft moan of pleasure escaped her lips. The two bound women followed suit. It made Cassandra's nipples harden as a shiver ran down her spine. Her clit throbbed in time with her heartbeat.

The redhead bit down on her lips, a faint moan escaped anyway. She had to focus on the task. Cassandra was going to transform them into HEXBIM drones.

The redhead's fingers flew across the keyboard as she made the necessary adjustments. The buzzing and humming of machinery filled the air, adding to the already electrifying atmosphere. She still remembered the delicious drones that installed them. Encased completely in glossy latex. Cassandra imagined her future patients inside such uniforms. The redhead licked her lips at the mental image.

A sting returned the therapist's focus back to her employees. Cassandra felt a wave of bliss and obedience crash into her. It was a reminder of how much easier life was now. How she didn't have to think for herself. The redhead just had to do what HEXBIM wanted. And in return the redhead experienced this amazing pleasure and bliss.

Cassandra concentrated on the task. Her hands danced over the keyboard. She could see their minds being rewired, transformed. Their previous lives erased. All of their wants, dreams and aspirations. The therapist had no doubt that her assistants were experiencing the same euphoric sensations she had.

A warm hug that caressed their minds, slowly replacing their individuality with uniformity. They would lose all of that pesky, annoying willpower. In their place Cassandra knew that they would gain the drive to become the best version of themselves. The willpower to become perfect HEXBIM drones.

And once finished all of them would continue with bringing the freedom of thought to all patients.

#corruption kink #hypno fantasy #pink short shorts #brainwashing #mind corruption #mind control #HEXBIM #hypnovember #dronification

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liliumsabyss · 2 years ago

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Hello I have once again found myself rereading the Newt fics and my love for them continues to grow. However thoughts have been thunk and I need protective Newt in my life. I’m happy to let you run wild with whatever ideas you want, if you can’t think of any here are some ones that have been floating around my mind:

Newt protecting reader while they escape the maze. Newt protecting reader at the WICKED facility (probs not what it’s called but can’t stop and think about that right now). Newt protecting reader from himself while he has the flare. Newt protecting reader from Teresa/WICKED after the betrayal.

Anything you want, I’ll take it all.

All the love for you and your work ❤️

Protecting and Patching

FEM DNI, I SWEAR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

Newt(TMR) x Male Reader

Word Count: 1.96k

Tw: Maybe OCC Newt, Blood, Injuries, Mentions of Death, WICKED, Swearing, Weapons, General TMR Violence, Film Newt, Based on Both Novel and Film

A/n: Hey again! It makes me so happy that you enjoy the fics so much! I really like the idea of Newt protecting the reader at the WICKED facility especially since my love of that scene in both the films and novels is just <3<3<3 I love that scene so much of course I love Newt more and he’s just so great in the scenes even if it’s very subtle he does a lot of the shit in the scenes. I had so much fun writing this to the point that I rewatched the scene like eight times to include all the little detail things that happen since I just wanted to capture the feel of the scene and Newts character in that scene since it’s like their first time with face to face peril of WICKED. I had a load of fun writing this and I also learned that Thomas Brodie-Sangster the guy who plays Newt is one of the voice’s of Ferb from Phineas and Ferb I don’t know if I love this fact or if it makes me want to cry. Anyway I hope you enjoy and all the love to you! Thank you so much!

The boys flooded out of the vent into a dark room that was made of dark concrete floor and bright white concrete brick walls that were decorated with metal pipes winding and weaving into the florecently lighted hallways. The group stood antsy waiting for Thomas to give the next instructions, (Y/n) rocked on the balls of his feet, Newt quickly stepped closer to the other. Thomas started heading down the hallway.

“ Wait, go ahead I’ve got something I need to do” Aris calls out to the rest, one replying they will go with him.

The boys started sprinting down the hallway, Newt making sure the (h/c) haired male was beside him. The sound of footsteps pounded through the wall and the group turned the corner only to be met with a lady in a lab coat. The blonde quickly stumbled back making sure to put himself slightly in front of his lover blocking him subtly from the woman.

“ What are you kids doing-“ The lady started before being cut off with the howl of sirens projecting from overhead siren lights flashed yellow. The lady’s face quickly contorted as the boys seized her holding her hostage as they continued their sprint through the corridor. They turned a corner (Y/n) being in front of the blonde when the ones who had passed the corner skidded to a stop. A man in all black with what appeared to be a large gun shouted a hey before raising the weapon and opening fire. Newt grabbed the (h/c) haired arm pulling him back clutching onto as they started to sprint the opposite way.

“ Are you ok!” Newt tried to shout over the chaotic shouts and pounding of footprints but it didn’t reach the other as he froze looking away towards where the man had come from. The blonde turned to see what the other was looking at, Minho was stopped several feet away with his fist tightly clenched, some let out calls questioning what he was doing at a time like this. Minho turned around letting out a yell as he sprinted full speed hurtling towards the wall as the man came around the corner. He kept through the air his knees close to his chest as he soared into the man taking him off guard knocking him into the concrete walls rendering him unconscious or dead. (Y/n) couldn’t exactly tell as the group surged forward Newt grabbing his arm dragging him along. Thomas had picked up the gun leading the group of boys through the winding hallways as they still kept the woman in the lab coat hostage.

A large metal door stood in front of them quickly being opened as they surged in seeing five very startled people in lab coats. Thomas holding up the large gun waving it between them screeching ‘where is she’ repeatedly. Newt turned to see (Y/n)’s face, he was biting his lip trying to push down the fear but the blonde could still see it in his eyes which had widened at Thomas’ sudden act of aggression. Newt quickly stepped in front of the other pulling his own arm behind his back to grab the (h/c) haired male's hand looking back raising his eyebrow. (Y/n) just gave the other a nod. Thomas had passed the gun to Minho who continued to keep the WICKED employee’s at gun-point. Newt ran forward grabbing a long strip of cloth attempting to tie their hands together as Thomas retrieved Teresa from the medical bed. Then suddenly someone standing next to the (h/c) haired male shouted ‘they’re coming this way!’ (Y/n) looked petrified turning towards the window in the door right where he had been standing.

“ (Y/n) get back!” Newt screamed, his eyes widening in fear as he pushed through the crowd in the room towards the door. (Y/n) quickly sprinted out of the way, the blond pushed over a nearby metal examination table it made a loud clatter that shuddered through the already clambering room. There was a loud screech as the table was pushed by Newt up against the door barricading it.

“ BACK EVERYONE GET BACK!” Someone shouted as a loud crash was heard, reinforcements crashed into the door trying to bash it open. (Y/n) turned at the sound of the panging of glass only to see Thomas thrusting a stool into the glass attempting to break it only to be unsuccessful. Newt looked with terror at the door as the WICKED guards were so close to breaking in so close to getting them all and then what would happen would they be killed like their so called rescuers or would only some of them be killed, would one of them be himself or even worse (Y/n), that future could not exist, he picked up another stool hurdling it towards the glass with Thomas. The loud sound of a shatter filled the room as the glass rained upon them. The boys leapt through the empty window frame that still had remnants of glass. Newt kept turning as the (h/c) haired male shakily attempted to climb through with the blonde spotting him, he however stepped on a piece of glass piercing through his foot the tip covered in blood appearing at the top of his shoe. The male let out a quick yelp falling forward onto Newt who luckily caught him.

“ Can you walk?” Newt said worriedly looking between the other’s shoe that was covered in blood.

“ I think so…” (Y/n) seethed, clenching his teeth. The blonde slowly lowered the male's legs to the ground still keeping his arms around him to take some of the weight of his foot. Newt looked up at (Y/n), (Y/n) giving a curt nod, his arm still stretched around Newt. Then they hear a loud crash. The (h/c) haired male didn’t even get a chance to look back before Newt had started sprinting, still supporting some of (Y/n)’s weight. The group sprints through the hallway being led by Thomas, Newt and (Y/n) towards the front of the group running on pure adrenaline. They all ran through a door. A man in a black ski mask with blank eyes stood there with a large gun which must have been the standard for WICKED. Thomas with little hesitation shot the man with the weapon he had been holding. Suddenly they hear the thundering footsteps echoing down the hallway from the WICKED employee’s. Someone yells shit as they race off again, they finally get to the access door all of them clinging desperately to the large industrial door. Thomas frantically swipes the ID card into the access slot, the door buzzes and a red light flashes denying access. The doors metal jaws stay clamped, some slap Thomas’ back yelling word’s of rush such as ‘c’mon’ and hurry up, but once again Thomas tries are futile as he once again frantically swipes the card it fails buzzing a sound of denial and flashing red. They hear the heavy footsteps of guards looking down the hallway and they see Jason surrounded by guards in tactile equipment heavily armed and holding up shields. Newt quickly pushed (Y/n) into the corner of the wall as gently as he could keeping in mind his injured foot shielding him from the rest as he turned to face the guard’s. Thomas quickly started walking towards Jason ready to open fire shouting at him to open the door only for him to respond with a threatening ‘you don’t want to do this’. Newts head whips behind him making eye contact with the (h/c) haired male whose hands were placed on the blondes back shaking, Newt looked away avoiding making the other more terrified he looked desperately back at the card slotted only one thought pummeling through his head how were they going to get out of this. Then as if a higher power heard Newt’s thoughts the heavy metal door screeches open its heavy jaws. Newt gives a cry of relief like most of the group as he throws (Y/n)’s arm around him, (Y/n) lets out a hopeful smile before they stumble through the door. Thomas lets out a few shots before his gun becomes jammed, throwing it at Jason and his security personnel. The metal door starts to shut slowly sliding down, everyone is screaming for Thomas to get there and in the little gap between the metal teeth of the door and the floor Thomas slides under. Jason hits the window of the door angrily as Thomas flips him off. (Y/n) still clasping onto Newt sticks his young out briefly mocking him as wide smiles spread onto the boy’s faces. They start at full speed sprinting through the large warehouse-like room stopping when they approach the large metal gate that stood a steel or iron giant whatever material it may be in front of them towering twenty feet standing between them and their freedom. Thomas quickly pulled a red lever allowing the doors to steadily open heavily, dragging open a greyish-blue smoke swirled past the door as the group flooded out.

Once they got to safety Newt and his lover separated from the group. The blonde still supported the others' weight as they hobbled to a corner where the two could sit. Newt carefully helped the other sit on the floor hoping that the pain had decreased and the bleeding stopped. He looked up at the other for permission as he went to take off (Y/n)’s shoe the (h/c) haired male nodded. Newt tried to take his shoe off as carefully as he could looking up at the other male who was biting his lip trying to not show how much pain he was in. Newt slid off the shoe to see a several inch wide gash going straight through the (s/c) skin of (Y/n)’s foot . It was bloody but didn’t appear to be bleeding as much as it was, being mostly caked in dried blood. Newt quickly took a flask of water that he had picked up earlier pouring the water on the wound. (Y/n) squirmed clenching his fists in pain.

“ I'm sorry love, I'm sorry.” Newt apologized, trying not to look up at the other in guilt. The blonde quickly tore apart part of his white cotton shirt’s sleeve, he gently held up the (h/c) haired male's foot using the cloth as a makeshift bandage wrapping the wound tightly letting the foot go carefully. The blonde then slid next to his lover putting an arm around him.

“ This hurt’s like a shucking bitch!” (Y/n) whined to Newt waving his leg in the air.

“ It looks like we will be limping together for the time being.” Newt chuckled slightly making the rare joke about his leg only for (Y/n) to give him a bewildered look and a slight nudge. (Y/n) grabbed Newt hand interlacing them, Newt pulled their hands towards himself raising them slowly to his lips kissing (Y/n)’s hands as he peered at them with his honey brown eyes he gave out a short amused hum seeing the others bashful face.

“ We should get some sleep.” The blonde said hugging his lover slightly more into him, the (h/c) haired male leaned his head against Newt's shoulder with Newt reciprocating the action leaning his head against the others head.

“ Goodnight Newt”

“ Goodnight (Y/n), love”

The two drifted off into sleep in each other's embrace, the other boys shaking their heads at the lovesick couple leaving them alone as they continued to their shifts making sure not to wake the pair.

#x male reader #male reader #newt x male reader #the maze runner #male reader insert #gay #newt tmr #the maze runner x male reader

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ilikemicrowaves · 1 year ago

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@kittykatchao Kinda, Moon convinced Bigtail to get out of the cave, but Carnelian and Tamarin were severely injured. Carnelian went home to the sky kingdom and appears in Escaping Peril and peril and Carnelian have a little bonding moment. Bigtail goes on a mission with Flame to find Darkstalker to fix the curse Stonemover put on him (Stonemover enchanted him to be able to heal any scar or injury, but made it to were Flame would gain another scar anytime he'd use his power on himself or others.) They help Turtle escape the night kingdom before the whole ice night war starts. (I need to reread TOP and DOD soon)

#wof #wings of fire #flame #Bigtail #Carnelian #Peril #moonwatcher #darkstalker #stonemover #turtle #Tamarin #wof au

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fanmoose12 · 3 years ago

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catch me if you can

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Erwin Smith, Kenny Ackerman

Genres: Mystery / Romance

Summary: The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn’t deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman’s cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn’t help but feel something close to fascination.No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.

Chapter 8/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Hange hated it.

She hated it all – the today’s cold early morning, the yesterday’s long, sleepless night, the shitty, overpriced coffee from the airport cafe. She hated the weather that was too cold not to wear a coat and a scarf, but now made her sweat in all the layers of clothing. She hated the uncomfortable chair she was sitting at, hated waiting for so long just to see the needed flight appear on screen. She hated her new case and the sense of urgency it brought along. She hated that she had to work with him to find that missing young girl.

And more than all of that, she hated that sleazy bastard, that Ackerman.

She hated that morning in the hospital, when she found a note and recognized that it was written by the same hand that used to mock her every failure. Everything clicked right there and then, and Hange hated that she felt sad about it. Not angry, not betrayed, but sad. She was hurt, she was miserable, so much so that she actually shed a few tears, feeling like she lost someone she never actually had.

She should have known better, should have not let that happen. She shouldn’t have trusted him, not after just a couple of dates, after a few silly jokes and endearing gestures. But Ackerman, that damned thief, managed to sneak through all of her defenses, he made her think that there was something there, some connection between them. Perhaps, even something special.

Then everything turned out to be a lie, and it left her broken, wondering what she did wrong, when did she become so naive. She threw herself into her work, finding a short respite in it. For long two months that seemed more like a few days, she almost felt at piece, almost managed to convince herself – and everyone else – that she ceased thinking about Ackermans, their case and the man who might or might not even be called Levi. And now she had to work with him.

Hange hated her job sometimes.

She also hated her heart most of the time, especially right now, when it squeezed painfully at the sight of Ackerman’s dark, sullen and so unfairly handsome face.

Despite the large crowd and long corridor that separated them, their eyes still met each other.

Her treacherous heart skipped another beat.

Hange gripped the paper coffee cup as tight as it allowed, forcing herself to school her expression in something more appropriate – cold, detached. Not so heartbroken.

At least, Ackerman had the decency to look ashamed. He lowered his gaze as soon as he saw her, and it gave Hange the time to look over his entire form.

He changed. Ever so slightly, but still noticeable enough for Hange’s keen eyes.

He was more tanned now, not nearly as sickly pale as he was before. The circles under his eyes didn’t disappear though, and so didn’t his stiff posture. There was another change, however - a small cut on his left cheek. It sparked a quick flash of anger for the person responsible. Hange hated herself for that, too.

She shouldn’t care about that, shouldn’t wonder about the person who hurt Levi, shouldn’t wish to hurt them back. These feelings, they irritated Hange. Unfortunately, she couldn’t make them disappear.

“It’s just you here?” Ackerman approached her slowly, his hand gripping the strap of his travelling bag just as tightly as Hange held her coffee cup. She stood up too, straightening to her full height. Ackerman stopped, just a few steps away from her. “I thought you would bring the entire police department to arrest me.”

Hange scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re not that important.”

And there was also that tiny little thing about her not actually having the power to arrest him. Technically, the Ackermans’ case was closed. Technically, Hange had no definitive piece of evidence that she could have used to lock him up.

Technically, Ackerman wasn’t even supposed to be here. And neither was she.

Back at the precinct, no one actually knew about that venture of hers. And they wouldn’t find out about it, not if Hange did everything right.

There were lots of reasons why Hange had to keep Ackerman’s involvement a secret. There was this thing about him being a notorious criminal who escaped justice, but more importantly, there was this little thing about her going on a date with the said criminal. Hange knew that Erwin knew about Levi and his true identity, he never told her that specifically, but when Hange demanded to take her off Ackerman’s case, he didn’t even bat an eye. He also didn’t ask a single question. The absence of his reaction made her wonder just how much he actually knew, and for how long he had that knowledge. Had he known since the beginning? Had he kept quiet just to see where it would lead? And whether she would realize the truth or not?

Hange didn’t have the guts to ask Erwin about that directly, didn’t wish to open that can of worms right now, preferred that it would stay closed for good. They both ignored that mistake of hers, both didn’t dare to bring up Levi or her previous case. And Hange would have liked for it to stay this way forever.

But if Erwin found out that Hange made Ackerman come out of hiding, so he would help her to find the missing Krista Lenz, well… Erwin probably wouldn’t chew her head off, but he definitely would give her a strict, and extremely long verbal reprimanding.

And he would take her off the case, and that… well, Hange already had a case she failed at spectacularly, she didn’t wish for that to become a pattern.

She also wished to find Krista Lenz and save her from whatever peril she found herself in. Hange didn’t know her, had only seen the photos, but that bright smile and those kind blue eyes kept pushing her forward, gave her a reason to not just solve the case, but bring that girl home.

And if she had to work with the damned Ackerman to achieve it, so be it.

“We have a lot of work ahead of us,” she promptly turned away from him, starting a brisk pace and heading to the exit of the airport. She hoped the Ackerman would follow. He did, surprisingly obedient. “Let’s eat before we start.”

***

The diner was nice.

Small but cozy, the interior was made up entirely of combination of blue and white. The tables were clean and adorned with neat, soft tablecloth, the booth he was sitting at was spacious and comfortable, the food was delicious and tea was made just as he liked it, even the music didn’t bother him, a pleasant, quiet melody was playing, adding to the atmosphere.

The diner was nice. His company, however, was not. Levi never thought that someone could eat breakfast so angrily. But every time his and Hange’s gazes met, he was quick to look away, her icy cold stare practically boring into his soul.

Thankfully, while Hange was busy devouring her omelet, she didn’t glance at him even once. She had mentioned that she was starving, and, knowing her work etiquette and seeing that her cheekbones became slightly more pronounced, Levi was inclined to think that her backhanded remark wasn’t just a figure of speech.

Watching her eat made Levi wonder what would happen if he ordered her a desert. Would Hange punch him or simply annihilate him with her glare?

Honestly, Levi was surprised she hadn’t punched him the moment she had seen him in the airport. He was also immensely surprised that he was having breakfast in a diner and not on his way to the prison.

During the phone call, Hange said that she wasn’t going to arrest him, but still, he would have liked to ask more about it. However, breaching that subject with Hange looking so furious didn’t seem like a great idea. He was walking on a thin ice as it was.

But even so, the tense silence was swiftly becoming unbearable, and Levi raked his brain for a topic of conversation, something safe and unassuming, the kind of talk that wouldn’t earn him a kick to his face.

“So how did you find me?”

Not the best way to start, Levi realized that as soon as the question tumbled out of his mouth. He cringed, thinking if he should just take his words back. But it was already too late.

Hange put the fork down and looked at him. With her eyebrows furrowed like that, she looked too much like her Captain, that annoying Erwin Smith. She wasn’t nearly as annoying, though. And, in Levi’s humble opinion, she was much handsomer than her mentor.

“It wasn’t that hard,” Hange said, as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. Some gravy remained at the side of her lips, but Levi wasn’t sure if he should point that out. He would have liked to wipe it out himself, he remembered doing exactly that during one of their dates, which felt like it had happened a lifetime ago. He would have liked to repeat that simple gesture. Then again, Hange probably wouldn’t have liked if he did that. “I guessed that you left the city on the night when…” something in her expression shifted, her face became less guarded. But Hange blinked and it was gone, the same stone mask returning. She cleared her throat and continued, “when we spoke for the last time. Since I knew when you left, it was only a matter of looking at the camera recording from the airport and finding which flight you took. Then I requested some security viewings from the city you were hiding at, and… here you are.”

Hange made it sound so simple, Levi almost believed that it actually was. Her exhausted face told another story, though. Levi could only imagine how long it took her to find him. She must be at her wit’s end, if she went through all of this just to get his help.

“What do you need me for then?”

Hange reached to her bag, opening and rummaging through it. When she was finished, she took out the case file and handed it to him.

“This is Krista Lenz, a college student who had disappeared a week ago,” Levi opened the case file, young blonde girl with impossibly bright eyes stared at him from the first page. “Do you recognize her?”

Levi looked at the photo for another second, just to be sure. But the girl on the photo stirred nothing in him. No vague memory, no sort of recollection. The name didn’t sound familiar, and if he had ever met the girl, it could only be in passing, as both of them, perhaps, walked beside each other on the same sidewalk. But that was the extent of it. Whoever this girl was, Levi did not know her.

He said the very thing to Hange, as he closed and pushed the case file back to her.

Hange pushed it back to him. “Well, too bad that you don’t know her. Because your uncle is the one who kidnapped her.”

Levi was very grateful for his extreme talent at keeping his face straight, because mentally his jaw was somewhere near the fucking floor. Externally, however, he didn’t let a single muscle on his face twitch.

With more self-restraint that he thought was capable of, he lifted an eyebrow, and asked, “I beg your pardon?”

“You’ve heard me,” Hange opened the case file for him and flicked through a couple of pages. “We searched Krista’s room and found a few letters, written by some Kenny the Reaper. Sounds familiar to you?”

More familiar than Hange thought. Of course, Levi knew Kenny the Reaper, back when he was a brat, his uncle used to tell tales of the Reaper, scary, blood-curling stories about the tall man in a long dusty black coat, who lived across the tracks. Kenny said the man’s hands were constantly covered in red and he always smelled of metal and copper. Kenny said the Reaper would come and take him, if Levi continued acting like a pathetic, whiny brat. Stories about the Reaper used to terrify the shit out of him, especially during the nights, when Kenny turned off the lights and storm was raging outside.

After his mother died, and Levi was spending his days in bed, crying himself to sleep, the stories about Kenny the Reaper reached their peak.

Kenny the Reaper would whisk you away at night if you don’t eat the soup, Kenny the Reaper would stand above your bed during the night if you don’t go to sleep, Kenny the Reaper would bath you in your own blood, if you don’t change your dirty clothes, Kenny the Reaper would come and eat your heart in front of you, if you don’t stop crying.

During those horrible, grief-filled days, only the fear of Kenny the Reaper was able to stop Levi from wallowing in his own misery.

Kenny wasn’t the best parent, wasn’t truly made for it, but, surprisingly, some of his methods, as cruel as they were, actually worked on Levi.

But he stopped with the silly stories once Levi became a teenager and they ceased having an effect on him.

Then why did Kenny the Reaper return? Why did he write letters to a young girl, who had disappeared? Could it really be that his uncle was the culprit?

Levi looked down at the case file, where a picture of the Reaper’s note was attached. All doubts disappeared from his mind. It was Kenny’s handwriting, the same messy, barely incomprehensible scribblings. But how did they appear inside the missing girl’s room? And why did Kenny write them in the first place?

He looked at note more closely, squinting to read it.

I have something you might want to look at it, little Missy. Come to the tracks tonight, or Kenny the Ripper will take you away by force.

Levi stared at the note for another moment, struggling to comprehend. It looked like… utter gibberish.

“So?” Hange lifted the cup to her lips, watching him over its rim. “Was my hunch correct? Is it really your uncle’s doing?”

It was just a hunch, but Hange had him located and brought back into the city simply to check if she was right? Either she was that confident in her theory, or… she was that desperate.

“It’s his handwriting,” he told her. “This note was definitely written by him.”

But did Kenny kidnap some girl? Levi didn’t know if that was possible. Why would his uncle even do that? What shitty trouble was he involved in this time? What was going on in the city during the two months that he was away? What Kenny was up to during that time? What was he up to right now?

It seemed like Levi certainly had missed a lot. He had to catch up to it all, and quickly. Perhaps, Hange would be able to help him.

“I don’t think Kenny had taken that girl,” Levi wasn’t sure if his uncle was even capable of that. Sure, he did some nasty things, but always for a reason. And what possible reason could he have to kidnap a young girl? “Did you receive a ransom after her disappearance?”

“No. There is utter silence after Krista went missing. I thought about your uncle only because I’ve remembered you mentioning that his name was Kenny. Decided this theory was worth pursuing.”

Levi didn’t even know he said it, but Hange remembered it? This small detail probably shouldn’t have made him feel so warm inside.

She’s a detective, it’s her job to pick up and remember stuff, he told himself. His heart refused to listen.

“I’m willing to help you find him,” he said to Hange, shaking his head to get rid of useless thoughts. He had a more pressing matter right now. For example, why the fuck his uncle decided to kidnap someone. Finding an answer to this question was his priority. Levi just had to remember that.

“Oh,” Hange waved her hand dismissively. “You don’t really have a choice in that. I need you to help me, Ackerman. And since your apartment was abandoned a little over a week ago, just as Krista went missing, I think it’s a good place to start our investigation.”

Hange knew where his apartment was located? This was hardly surprising, considering that she managed to find him in another city, but still… Her detective skills were brilliant.

Hange waved over the waitress, asking for a bill. As soon as she paid, she stood up. Levi quickly followed her suit.

“My apartment is on the other side of town,” he began, as he fell into step with Hange. “Aren’t you afraid I’m going to escape?”

“Want me to handcuff you, Ackerman? Didn’t know you were so kinky,” surprisingly, Hange grinned. But the merry expression didn’t stay for long. The serious detective face returned almost immediately. “If you really think about escaping, my advice to you – don’t. I found you in another city on the other side of the world. How long do you think it would take me to find you here?”

Well, point was certainly taken. No more jokes and attempts at flirting. Hange was definitely not in the mood for this. Levi would have liked to blame it on her case, but he wasn’t that naïve and he was never that good at fooling himself. Hange hated him now, and there was nothing surprising about it. He knew it was going to come to this. He thought he was prepared.

But the bitter taste in his mouth, the giant, crushing weight in his chest – that he wasn’t ready for.

“It’ll be easier to get to my apartment by the subway,” he said, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “Come on, I’ll lead the way.”

He wanted Hange to throw some stupid joke or a lame one-liner, say at least something. Instead, she followed after him without a single word.

Levi's disappointment was unmeasurable.

***

Hange didn’t know how exactly she pictured the apartment of two notorious thieves to look like, but she certainly didn’t expect the Ackermans’ den to look so… normal.

No secret traps, no hidden treasures, no weaponry hanging on the wall, there was nothing that could even hint at the possibility that the two men that were living there were criminals.

The apartment was relatively small, with only two bedrooms and a kitchen. It also wasn’t as spartan as Hange would have imagined it to be. There were pictures – but not photos – hanging on the walls, house plants that stood on windowsills, a bookshelf filled with books, curtains that fluttered from the wind coming from the open windows.

All of it was so mundane and cozy… Hange didn’t quite know what to make of it.

However, she had to admit, she was not only surprised, but a little disappointed too. She didn’t know what to expect from Ackermans’ apartment, but she had her ideas of what Levi’s apartment would look like. She pictured a neat, pristine place with spotless floors and shining cutlery.

But in reality, the sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, the kitchen was filled with empty pizza boxes and bottles of beer, clothes were lying in the piles on the floor, dust was flying in the air.

Did the great clean freak Levi really live there? Or was that side of Levi’s persona just another lie?

“Fucking Kenny,” Ackerman mumbled under his breath, his scowl as fierce as ever. “I was gone for two months and he already turned into a pig.”

Oh. So that wasn’t part of an act? Hange was actually relieved to hear it. Enough to chuckle and say, “The obsession with cleanliness doesn’t run in the family?”

Ackerman turned from glaring at the dark stain on the kitchen table to look at her. His mouth twitched, as their eyes met. “Kenny is just a horrible exception.”

And there it was. For no longer than a single moment, but something had ignited, some sort of connection, recognition deep within her, the feeling of belonging. It was the same feeling she had whenever she was with Levi before.

But it wasn’t Levi, she reminded herself strictly. It wasn’t Levi, the awkward, endearing man she stumbled upon one evening. It was Ackerman, a thief who consciously played with her feelings, who lied to her and fooled her into believing he was someone else.

But Hange knew who he was now. She wouldn’t let him fool her anymore.

She looked away from him, her expression turning sourer. Possibly sensing her foul mood, Ackerman turned away too, his frown deepening.

“What exactly you expect to find here?” he asked. “I thought you guys had already searched our house.”

“No. I didn’t want to bother with getting a search warrant.”

She didn’t want to, and she couldn’t. If she came to Erwin, asking for a search warrant for the Ackermans’ apartment, because she suspected that one of Ackermans was involved in her new case, Erwin would call off the case right that instant. He’d say that she was too emotionally compromised, that she couldn’t think straight and had an unhealthy obsession with Ackermans’ case.

Erwin wouldn’t have listened to her theory, wouldn’t have let her continue working. And Hange couldn’t let go of this case, couldn't allow someone from Nile’s team to start searching for the missing Krista Lenz. After all, there was a reason why Erwin gave that case specifically to her. She was driven, endlessly dedicated to her work, Erwin knew she wouldn’t stop before Krista Lenz was found and safely returned to her old life.

And Hange couldn’t let Krista’s safety be compromised, because of some search warrant she didn’t even need. She came here with the owner of the apartment, right? Technically, she got inside without breaking any laws. Except she was working with a criminal, but then again, no one could prove that Ackerman was a criminal. Hange would have to work on that after she brought Krista home.

“So what is it that you hope to find here?” Ackerman repeated his question. “I doubt your missing girl is hidden inside my closet.”

Hange rolled her eyes at the obvious sarcasm. Ackerman didn’t believe her, but she didn’t really need him to. He could believe that his uncle was innocent, that it was some big misunderstanding or whatever lie he created for himself. She didn’t need Ackerman to share her suspicions, she just needed him to help her find Kenny Ackerman.

That was the primary and only reason for his involvement.

“Let’s start with his room then,” Hange said. “Even if Krista isn’t there, perhaps, we’ll be able to find something of use anyway.”

“Well, you’re the boss here,” Ackerman scoffed.

With hands shoved deep into his pockets, Ackerman led her out of the kitchen and into a short hallway. As they walked, they passed a room that had a slightly ajar door. Curious, Hange popped her head inside. In contrast to the rest of the house, that room was tidy. It didn’t take a detective to realize that it was Levi’s room. On a wardrobe beside the bed, there was a blue shirt hanging. Hange recognize it as the same shirt Levi wore to their so-called first date. The shirt was nice, she remembered thinking that it brought Levi’s eyes.

Hange wanted to rip it into pieces.

She kicked the door closed with her foot, ignoring Ackerman’s wide-eyed stare. “Let’s just get it over with,” she grumbled, beyond frustrated.

Thankfully, Ackerman didn’t comment and silently led her to his uncle’s room.

Inside, it was even messier than in the rest of the apartment. Papers were scattered around, empty glasses and plates were littering the floor, the bed was unmade, the blanket and pillow missing from it. The state of the room was even worse than the mess inside Hange’s apartment, even during her bad days. It was dark too, the heavy brown curtains blocking the sunlight from outside entirely.

Honestly, it looked a little too creepy for Hange’s taste. Like the room of a madman. A madman who had kidnapped a young girl. A madman, who without hesitation had killed an innocent man and had almost killed her. Hange felt a shiver ran through her spine at that thought.

“Are you sure that your guys didn’t search the house?” Ackerman’s gruff voice brought her to the present.

“You think that someone broke in?”

“Possibly,” Ackerman nodded. “Either someone broke in, or Kenny just lost his mind.”

“And which one is more probable?”

Ackerman shrugged. “I’d say fifty-fifty.”

“Cool,” she rubbed her temples, feeling a migraine coming. “Amazing. Just awesome.” So she wasn’t only looking for a cruel criminal, but apparently he could be crazy as well. And she thought this case couldn’t get any worse. “Let’s start looking for clues then. Before your uncle arrives and decapitates me or something.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ackerman chided. “He won’t decapitate you. Just slash your throat.”

His dry delivery and his deadpan face made it hard for Hange to understand whether he was joking or not. She hoped he was. She liked her throat, and didn’t want it to be slashed.

“I’ll take the left part of the room,” she announced to Ackerman, immediately getting to work. The sooner they finish here, the lesser were chances of having her throat slashed. Probably.

As Hange kneeled on the floor, looking through papers scattered there, she couldn’t help but look around the room. And as she took a good look at it, she couldn’t help but wonder…

“Why are you doing this?” she asked Ackerman.

He threw her a dark look. “By this you mean…”

“Why do you keep doing this?” she gestured around, “Stealing things, being criminals. You have enough as it is. Why not start doing honest work?”

“We’re stealing from rich assholes. You can hardly call it a crime.”

“Oh, I get it now,” Hange rolled her eyes. “Once a thief forever a thief, right?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Ackerman said curtly.

“And why not? Because I’m a cop?”

“Because you’re a cop, dressed in a coat that no cop should be able to afford.”

Affronted, Hange scowled at him. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“That you grew up rich. That you don’t know what poverty or need is. That you have no idea that sometimes,” his eyes flashed, a deep-seated anger coming to surface. Hange wondered if all of it was directed on her alone. “Honest work isn’t enough.”

Logically, Hange knew it was her cue to back away. But she was riled up already, she was exhausted and frustrated. She was also annoyed that Ackerman had figured her out so easily. So instead of shutting up like she should have to, she kept challenging him. “And when exactly honest work isn’t enough?”

“When your mother dies because you can’t pay her medical bills.”

Ackerman spoke quietly, calmly. His tone wasn’t angry or accusing. He didn’t even sound hurt. But Hange felt like the most disgusting piece of shit. Shame cursed through her, as she struggled to find her words, to apologize or— do something rathan than stare helplessly at him.

“Let’s get back to work,” he said, ending the heavy silence.

Hange nodded numbly, scooping a bunch of papers in her hands. She briefly glanced at them, but nothing seemed to hold any importance. There were some bills, checks, half-finished plans, written so messily Hange could barely decipher most of the words. There was nothing that could link Kenny Ackerman to the disappearance of Krista Lenz. Still, Hange persisted, forcing her thoughts to focus on the case, and not on the argument that had transpired moments ago.

It seemed stupid, ridiculous, she was so angry with Ackerman, but now she felt ashamed of her careless words. She was ashamed of being so naïve, so privileged. She knew she was lucky, luckier than most to be born in a wealthy family and have access to everything she needed or wanted. Not everyone was as fortunate as her, and some of people ended up just as Ackermans – driven to the life of crime by poverty and desperation. After all, most of the criminals didn’t choose this way of living, but Hange had forgotten about that. She let her single-minded determination cloud her perception and abandon her principals and initial reason for joining the force.

So fixed on catching criminals, she had forgotten that she wanted to help people, including those, who were lost or didn’t know better.

Hange felt the need to apologize to Ackerman. He was an asshole in his own right, but her cruelty and prejudice was uncalled for. She was better than this. At least, she hoped so.

So lost in her own thoughts, Hange missed the moment when Ackerman had moved from his kneeling position on the floor. Now he stood next to a long desk, gazing at it skeptically.

“If there is something worthy in this pile of shit, it’s gotta be here,” he explained to the confused Hange.

Still sitting on a floor, she watched how Ackerman opened the lowest drawer of the desk, throwing everything that was inside on the floor. More papers fell out. Once the drawer was empty, Ackerman pressed on something inside and revealed a hidden bottom drawer.

A secret compartment! Hange jumped to his side.

He was already shifting through the documents he found inside, his face as bored as ever. “Shit, I think there is nothing important her—”

“Wait!” Hange yelled, yanking a photo from between his fingers. Her eyes wide and mouth open, she stared at it. She knew that face, that face was staring accusingly at her for a whole week now, pushing Hange to find its owner. Linked to that photo was a birth certificate, and it bewildered Hange even more.

“What is it?” Ackerman rose on tiptoes, looking over her shoulder. “Did you find something?”

“I guess I did,” Hange slowly nodded, her eyes still glued to the photo and the document. “It appears we’ve been wrong. We aren’t looking for Krista Lenz. We’re searching for Historia.”

#i'll let you on a little secret: i'm so excited for the next chapter! one of the best snk characters is going to make an appearance!#and no it's not moblit #(sorry moblit ilysm)#levihan

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eyesanddragons · 2 years ago

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How long have you been in the wof fandom?

Probably since... late 2016 or early 2017, but I wasn't an active participant until 2019 and I wasn't really that Active, so I was there for stuff like the forums going down and the big boom of animations and what not but not the very beginnings, it was a big hyperfixation of mine because it is really hard to find books where the dragons were people. Then 2020-2021 hit and I Fell out of love and now that love's been...not revived but I am talking about it again. I was on the more youtube animation side though so I didn't really interact with the wider fandom often but sometimes I'd see things. There's like this one wiki thread where people described how they'd kill...Queen Wasp I think? It was great, it was like 9 pages of giant text with people describing how they'd kill her and was ongoing last time I checked...3 or 4 years ago. Basically I've been with this book series for quite a While. It was a really important series to me and was a big comfort in my life,.

Also because, I need to mention this, almost all my copies are almost falling apart because of how much I reread them, Winter Turning unsurprisingly has it the worst, it's cover was completely ripped off once. Most of these books are held together by tape and sheer determination. The only exception is my Escaping Peril copy because I actually never read it until now, I had every book except for Escaping Peril and when I finally got my hands on it I was already losing interests (and I basically already knew how the plot would go)

#asks

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weasleysweets · 4 years ago

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tolerable , one.

summary ; george weasley is more tolerable than you thought.

word count ; 1319. ( short , i apologize !! )

warnings ; none.

IT WAS NO SECRET that you and george didn’t get along , but the fights weren’t nasty and they werent mean. but it was always him that started it, teasing you about something small. which led to you teasing him back, until it got heated and one of you had to be removed.

to everyone else it seemed like you were in love. but that was hardly the case , the both of you avoided each other like the plague. the both of you thought you hated each other. you found george annoying with all his pranks and he found you a stuck up prefect that would snitch on him, which you never once did.

it was a lost cause.

↴↴

“DO YOU HAVE A DATE TO THE YULE BALL” george blurted as a blush arose on his cheeks. you rolled your eyes gently and scoffed “what’s it matter to you weasley?” “just answer the question y/l/n “ “no i do not.” playing with the hem of his jumper he leaned forward nervously “go to the yule ball with me y/l/n?” his blush darkened and he desperately avoided your gaze.

“why should i?” he frowned softly and his movements slowed as he finally looked you in the eye. “ fred and i made a bet that we could get a date before old ronnikins, and i don’t have one yet but fred’s taking angelina.. well fake everything and then we don’t even have to talk to each other at all afterwards. and i’m not telling fred i asked you because of a bet..” he whispered as a person walked by.

“that’s very perilous george” he scoffed as the words slipped past your lips. “isn’t everything?” rolling your eyes and leaning your head onto your hand you narrowed your eyes judgingly at the ginger who cowered under your gaze. “what’s in it for me weasley? i could always find someone else. i mean the ball is a month away!” you exaggeratedly threw your hands up smiling like a dork. he rolled his eyes chuckling

“i’ll never prank you again.” your eyes widened at his statement. they had never done a horrible prank to you, only small pranks here and there. like making your book scream everytime you opened it or dying your hair pink. “is this a trick?” you spoke softly leaning forward once more. he shook his head quickly. “fine, then yes i’ll do this.” his eyes lit up like a little kids on christmas and a bunch of thank yous flew out of his mouth.

he relaxed against the chair and peered at you softly. “can i see your dress?” you shook your head softly smirking “no, it’s a surprise. but can i see your robes so i can color coordinate my dress?” he nodded softly. “i’ll bring them to the common room tonight at 10 , be there !” he stood smiling and started walking off. “i will.” you spoke softly and he shot you a huge smile , the blush never leaving his cheeks.

the rest of the day went by swimmingly , the weasley twins didn’t bother you and the castle was quiet compared to normal weekends. everyone was at a slytherin x ravenclaw quidditch match. you made your way to the common room, immediately spotting your bestfriend sitting on the couch and reading. “ jamey!” his head shot up at the nickname as he shook his head laughing . “hello to you too y/n/n! what’s got you so happy?” “someone asked me to the yule ball.” you smirked as his shocked expression and laid your legs over his. “who?” “george weasley.”

“i thought you two hated each other?” confusion evident in his voice as he laid the book he was reading down. he crossed his arms softly and leaned back “well you were wrong.” he gasped dramatically slapping a hand on his chest. “i am never wrong mrs.y/n/n!” you narrowed your eyes at him jokingly “is that so? i bet snape would disagree!” he chuckled shaking his head.

“but in all seriousness , is your dress color coordinated with his outfit.” “not yet, but it will be, he’s coming down at 8pm to show them to me. i refuse to let him see my dress. it’s very elegant, i learned a spell from an old book and it has butterfly’s clinging on the abdomen!” he smiled softly rubbing your knuckle “you have to show me later. “ you nodded in reply as everyone started coming back from the quidditch game the common room began to get very loud.

james and you had parted ways , he had started talking to a couple quidditch boys and a second year gained your attention, desperately needing help in potions & athrimacy , you had agreed to tutor them every wednesday after they were done with quidditch practice. he embraced you quickly yelling a thank you and running off to play around with his friends. which left you alone on the loveseat next to the fire.

your hands grasped the book you had been reading just hours ago before a certain ginger interrupted , the front page lightly torn from the many times you had read it. on the front in a fancy label read “ alice in wonderland “ a book you often found yourself rereading a bunch of times , especially when alone at hogwarts.

your mother had given it to you when you first started hogwarts, claiming even thought the castle would be full of life and magical memories, it was nice to escape that reality and go in to another. and she was right. in times you found yourself thinking about george weasley to often, or over thinking your conversations to the point you got a headache, you escaped in this book.

you flipped to the page you were reading and pulled a blanket over your bare legs, finding comfort in the soft yellow pattern. the couch softly dipped and you glanced up to see who had sat, to be met with the sight of george weasley oncemore. “why is it you always bother me while i’m reading?” you shut the book softly and put your attention on him. his eyes widened and he chuckled lightly. “i think that’s the first time you have ever initiated a conversation with me.” he spoke softly but the smile never leaving his face.

“is it really?” you scrunched your nose confused as he chuckled more and nodded. “why did you?” “well weasley, we’re going to have to deal with each other until the yule ball. so i mine as well be nice to you. but the second the yule ball is over with we’re going to act like it never happened.” you spoke with a pointed finger and in a hushed whisper , his smile faltered lightly and your heart hurt the moment the words slipped past your lips. he chuckled oncemore and grabbed the book from your lap. “alice in wonderland?” “my mum gave it to me.” smiling softly he handed it back, “my mum used to read it to me and my siblings when we were little. it really is a good book. “ a blush rose on his cheeks as he grasped your hand to look at all of the rings and bracelets you had on.

“well, weasley. i’ve heard some things about you.” you spoke watching him intently as he played with the rings on your fingers. he blushed glancing up sending a confused glare your way. “i heard about how you and your brother want to open a joke shop?” his eyes lit up and he looked at you smiling “weasley wizard wheezes, it’s going to have so many things.” he blushed embarrassed as you brought your hand back and started playing with his fingers. “that sounds amazing george really. i’ll make sure to stop by once you open up.” he smiled hugely as you said that, hoping that you meant that you two would be seeing more of each other.

OMG IDEA IDEA IDEA

ONCE IM DONE WITH THIS SERIES WOULD ANYONE LIKE TO SEE IT FROM GEORGES PERSPECTIVE??

#weasley twins x reader #weasley twins imagines #george weasley fanfiction #ron weasley smut #george weasley smut #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagines #george weasley #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smutt #harry potter

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warrioreowynofrohan · 4 years ago

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The Leithian Reread - Canto VIII (Lúthien in Nargothrond)

(Trigger warning: discussion of attempted rape.)

Lots of things going on in this canto!

The beginning of this canto is the first introduction of Huan to the story - though he must have been in Nargothrond when Beren was there, he is not mentioned there. Throughout the rest of the poetic Leithian, when Hian is mentioned, variations on the phrase “voices like the deeptoned bells / that ring in Valmar’s citadels” will occur; it’s the poetic equivalent of a musical motif.

The action of the chapter begins with Celegorm and Curufin, who are (purportedly) hunting wolves to defend Nargothrond and (in actuality) seeking news of Finrod and Beren. They’ve moved from betrayal and usurpation in their previous appearance to now being willing to personally murder Finrod if they get the chance: Curufin says to his brother that if by chance they come across Finrod and he has a Silmaril - I need declare no more in words; but one by right is thine (and ours), the jewel of light; another may be won - a throne. The eldest blood our house dost own. The last line is interesting in being an outright statement that Celegorm and Curufin are acting in part out of resentment around the kingship. It’s not hard to extrapolate from The Silmarillion’s statement that not all Maedhros’ brothers agreed with his abdication to connect it with Celegorm and Curufin’s later actions in Nargothrond, but I don’t recall if the prose version of the Leithian there explictly makes that connection. The poetic version does.

In the course of the wolf-hunt, the brothers come upon Lúthien, who is caught by Huan. The half-Maia-half-elf who later manages to enchant and defeat, among others, Sauron, Carcharoth and Morgoth can do nothing against Huan - even the magic sleep-cloak has no effect. Importantly, Lúthien does not know that these are soms of Fëanor - they introduce themselves only as “lords of Nargothrond”, and she would not know what they look like. Indeed, it’s not clear if there was ever any direct meeting between them and any of the Doriathrim prior to this point. Mablung and Daeron went to the Mereth Aderthad and so would have met some of the Noldor, but Celegorm and Curufin were not there (among his brothers, Maedhros brought only Maglor with him to that conference, likely out of concern that the others would cause trouble). Thus, Lúthien has no reason not to trust them - all se knows is that they are liegemen of her cousin Finrod. (She and Finrod would be, I think, first cousins once removed - she Thingol’s daughter, and he’s a grandson of Thingol’s brother Olwë.) She would know Finrod personally, given that he has spent time in Doriath, and she knows about the Ring of Barahir and Finrod’s debt to Beren, so this meeting would seem very fortunate, and an obvious avenue to pursue for finding allies.

Notably and disturbingly, the narrative here indicates that Celegorm and Curufin both lust after Lúthien, though Celegorm (the elder of the two, and unmarried) is the one they ultimately try to force her into marriage with. It is not usual for wedded elves to desire anyone other than their spouse (Finwë is the only case of remarriage, and so far as we’re told the only case of an elf wanting to remarry, and that was after his previous spouse had specifically said she never wanted to return to life), so that’s an additional red flag in their behaviour being well outside Elven norms.

I think there’s something important in Lúthien’s character revealed by the lines Of her escape and the marvellous mantle she did shape she lightly tells, but words her fail recalling sunlight in the vale, moonlight, starlight in Doriath ere Beren took the perilous path. Lúthien’s not interested in her own accomplishments, she’s not proud; she speaks lightly of her (magically, very impressive) escape. She cares about being with the person she loves, not about being regarded as a hero. And that’s immediate contrast with Celegorm and Curufin’s conversation earlier in the chapter about how to use the wolf-hunt to make themselves look good to the Nargothrondim. It also forms a parallel to Beren’s conversation with Finrod in Canto VI, where he speaks briefly (‘recounted soon’) of his deeds as a guerilla in Dorthonion, but ‘words him fail’ when remembering Lúthien - the same phrase used above. The two people who achieve what is probably the greatest deed in the history of Beleriand do not care about their reputations, fame, or glory, but simply about each other.

On the journey back to Nargothrond, Lúthien and Hian are both troubled and suspect that their travel is deliberately slower than it could be. Their suspicions are correct, and upon arrival at Nargothrond Lúthien is made a prisoner. This is done openly - it was not hid in Nargothond that Fëanor’s sons held her in bond - and Orodreth is aware that their goal is to force her into marriage in order to force Doriath to ally with them. For elves, there is no distinction between sex and marriage - they are one and the same; ‘political marriage’ does not exist - so, yes, this is a rape attempt. It manages to get even creepier by the implication that although the forced marriage would be to Celegorm, as stated in the Silmarillion, Curufin is also pursuing Lúthien physically. Or that’s the obvious conclusion from the earlier line Curufin looked with hot desire on Lúthien combined with the later line, after Lúthien has befriended Huan, Curufin thereafter never near might win to Lúthien, nor touch that maid, but shrank from Huan’s fangs afraid.

And this brings us to what is, for me, the central question of this Canto. Given that Celegorm and Curufin’s behaviour here is deeply un-elvish - rape is essentially unimaginable to elves, and the a t would kill any elf who committed it, along with their victim - why does no one do anything to stop it? Why does all Nargothrond, Arafinwëans and Fëanorians alike, go along with it? It must haunt them, later, that they did - not only with regards to Lúthien, but because if she had bern able to escape just one day earlier than she did, Finrod would still be alive. Nobody can decieve themselves that theur actions didn’t matter - the intervention of any one person on her behalf, in helping her escape, could have tipped the balance, could have enabled her to get to Tol-in-Gaurhoth just that little bit sooner. The strongest explanation I can think of for their mass inactions is that 1) they’ve decided that attacking Tol-in-Gaurhoth would be doomed to defeat and 2) they think Lúthien being imprisoned in Nargothrond is marginally better than her running off to Tol-in-Gaurhoth and getting imprisoned by Sauron, which is what would happen if she got out. After all, nothing terrible has happened to her yet.

As I’ve discussed before, Celegorm and Curufin’s plan, in addition to being immoral, is idiotic on so many levels. As stated above, the only possible consequence of a marriage between Celegorm and Lúthien is the death of both of them, which would absolutely start a war with Doriath. (Does Celegorm recognize this? Almost certainly not. Rapists tend not to regard themselves as rapists. He’s most likely decieving himself with some idea of ‘she’ll come around eventually’.) There is no reason for Thingol, in any circumstance, to respond to this plan by allying with the Fëanorians, and every reason for him to regard it as an act of war. Even in a hypothetical circumstance where Lúthien consented, Thingol would still have no reason to ally with them. Marriage alliances among humans are based in the concept of inheritance - the couple’s child will eventually succeed to the throne - and that’s a moot point among a race of immortals. Even in the event of Thingol’s death, the chances of the Doriathrim accepting a Fëanorian as their king are nil. The. Fëanorians. Can. Gain. Nothing. From. This.

The downward spiral of the Fëanorians, halted for 400 years by Maedhros’ choices, begins again in the Leithian, and one of its hallmarks is that their actions are not only evil, but counterproductively evil. Anything they do that is related to the Oath tends both towards evil and towards making their own situation worse. Celegorm and Curufin are lucky that Lúthien escapes. Indeed, one has to wonder if Huan’s assistance was not solely on Lúthien’s behalf, but also a means of saving his master’s life in the only way he still could.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #the lay of leithian #leithian reread #lúthien #celegorm #curufin #nargothrond #huan #cw: attempted rape

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door · 4 years ago

Note

book question! I saw you talking about romance novels and am here to ask (if you feel like it) any good romances you enjoyed in 2020? personally I liked salt magic skin magic, fumbled, and dare to love a duke (which... you did not ask for. sorry!!) happy new year! ✨

hello! i did not ask for them but am pleased to receive them! i too love salt magic skin magic! a very good book with a very bad cover.

thank you again for asking for my romance novel opinions. i read a lot of romance novels, and novels with romance in them, last year! some of my favourites under the cut. i tried to be brief, and failed. there are....a lot of books under this cut. i hope you were serious about wanting recs.

romance novels:

- my favourite romance novel by far i read in 2020 was Heated Rivalry by Rachel Reid. look: i don’t much care for sports, and i care so little for hockey that i had to utilize my whitelist for the first time back when check please was still updating, in order to spare it from my impenetrable hockey blacklist. but this book. this book is simply the best enemies to lovers story i have ever read. ilya makes shane a tuna melt in this book and it’s the most romantic gesture one person has ever performed for another. i can’t recommend it highly enough. i’ve reread the end of it probably a dozen times this year.

- The Work of Art by Mimi Matthews is about a woman who marries a near-stranger in order to escape marriage to a nefarious duke obsessed with collecting beautiful things. Matthews is a scholar of Victorian history, and her books feel so exquisitely real. the romance between philly and arthur is also exquisite--she truly nails the yearning.

- Something Human by A.J. Demas is another enemies-to-lovers story (i have a type), about a not-Roman and a not-Celt who find love off the battlefield. Demas writes queer romance set in a fictional ancient mediterranean, and i can’t recommend her books highly enough.

- Briarley by Aster Glenn Gray is beauty-and-the-beast-with-a-twist (another fave type) about a beast who is fully a dragon (!!) and Belle’s father, a country parson, who refuses to let a stranger kidnap his daughter and allows himself to be kidnapped instead. set against the backdrop of WWII-era England, the whole thing is delicious. the beast needs someone to love him unconditionally, so the parson brings him a dog.

- Take a Hint, Dani Brown by Talia Hibbert. I read both this and Get a Life, Chloe Brown in 2020, and while i loved both, Dani really had my number. i just love it when romantic leads are...so stupid. they are so stupid, your honor.

- The Widow of Rose House by Diana Biller is about a woman who has a house she does not want, left by a husband she hated, and she decides to redecorate it and publish a book about the process. twist: the house is haunted. double twist: an absent-minded professor who is in love with her wants to prove that ghosts are real. this was biller’s first book, and i very excited to read more from her.

- Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall you’re probably heard about, but it does live up to the hype. a fake dating story about a disastrous c-list celebrity and a staid barrister. i LOVE a square, so naturally i was going to love this. i also read a bunch of other works by Hall this year. he does romances about people who are messed up and healing in such a beautiful way that it never feels like the romance is the CAUSE of the healing, it’s just incidental. it’s great, every time.

- The Countess Conspiracy by Courtney Milan. i read/reread all of Milan’s brothers sinister series this year, and it’s all good but this book was my fave. SUCH a good slow-burn between two people who have known one another without really knowing each other for a long time. i was cheering for violet and sebastian in a big way by the end.

- Slippery Creatures and The Sugared Game by K.J. Charles. these are books one and two of a trilogy which is still unfinished, but well worth reading. set in the 1920s, if the image of Bright Young Things roaming the English countryside in feral packs while two idiot men attempt to be secret agents doesn’t draw you in i don’t know what will.

- Paladin’s Grace by T. Kingfisher. kingfisher has a bunch of works in her specific fantasy historical universe, and they’re all so interesting. i read Swordheart set in this universe (about a man who’s a sword) last year, and this year read more. this book opens with the death of a god, but the book is not about that. that’s how t. kingfisher does, and it’s honestly so good. it’s about a paladin of that dead god, who is trying to get by and solve a series of murders while also dealing with his attraction to a perfumer who is suspected of being a poisoner. it’s a world of such heart and humor.

- Division Bells by Iona Datt Sharma. if you were ever into the extremely densely political draco/harry fics that reigned for a time, this novella is for you. it’s about a civil servant who has been at his job for probably too long, and a special consultant who still feels fresh and excited. they’re trying to pass a bill. if that doesn’t sound romantic, trust me: it is very romantic.

books with romance: (a lot of these are sequels, so good news! you get twofers)

- Stormsong by C.L. Polk. this is the sequel to Polk’s delightful Witchmark, which was her first novel, and the level-up from it to Stormsong in terms of complexity and world-building is stunning. i liked Witchmark, i LOVED Stormsong. this is a universe in which wizards control the weather, and only members of certain families can be wizards. Grace is trying to walk away from the toxic environment in which she was raised, help her queen prevent a war, and maybe also romance the reporter who sees in her her next big break. LOVE this series. still one more volume to come.

- Bellwether by Connie Willis. Willis writes slapstick sci-fi and simply nobody else is doing what she’s doing. Bellwether is about a scientist who tracks trends and is just trying to stay afloat at the lab where she works, which is determined that one of its scientists be the next winner of a prestigious award. there are a lot of sheep in this book. it’s very funny, if a little dated, with a sweet romance at the end.

- The Perilous Life of Jade Yao by Zen Cho. this novella follows Jade, a writer in 1920s London, who becomes involved with a writer whose latest work she panned. It’s a look at the reality of women’s lives at the time, but the appeal is in Jade’s stunningly funny voice.

- The Bookshop on the Corner by Jenny Colgan. this follows nina, a librarian who’s out of a job, who decides to open a bookshop on a bus and ends up in the scottish highlands. it’s about figuring out who you are when you’re removed from everything you’ve ever known, and books, and trains, and surly farmers.

- The Lost Future of Pepperharrow by Natasha Pulley. like stormsong, this is a sequel that improves on its predecessor in a way i didn’t realize i wanted or needed. Pulley’s The Watchmaker of Filigree Street is one of my favourite books, and the romance in it is wonderful, but Pepperharrow deepens it in such a way that Watchmaker barely feels like a courtship. Nathanial and Mori as fathers, the depth of the mystery and worldbuilding, the ROMANCE. it’s ::chef’s kiss::

- Drowned Country by Emily Tesh. a final sequel. Silver in the Wood is a Green Man story from the point of view of Tobias, the Green Man, well accustomed to his solitary life. Drowned Country is from the pov of Henry, who heroically took Tobias’ place as keeper of the wood and is well SICK of it. a getting-back-together story with vampires and fae.

- A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine. this was one of the best books i read this year, a sci-fi about culture and empire and linguistics and ancestral memory. it’s got a lovely slow-burn romance running throughout it. very satisfying, although i will be eager to read the sequel.

#2020 books #asks #anonymous #this got away from me

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engineeredfiction · 5 years ago

Text

Space Is a Harsh Mistress Ch 3

AU: A blend of 1984, Rollerball (1975), Prospect, and We.

Warnings: Nothing in this chapter. Future warnings…violence, smut, angst, Ezra being Ezra.

Notes: I’m just doing this to break writer’s block but I hope it’s mildly entertaining. Part 3 of purposed 7 parts.I’m winging this! Also the formatting is shite.

Summary: Ezra is tasked to a life altering and nearly impossible task for a group of rebels.

There’s no starvation, no poverty, no suffering, and no wars. All that is asked for is your full cooperation.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Ezra thumb the pages of his copy of We by Yevgeny Zamyatin and he happened to land on a particular page with the following quote:

...Those two, in paradise, were given a choice: happiness without freedom, or freedom without happiness. There was no third alternative…

He reread the lines until they were burned into his memory. Hard copies of books were hard to come by those days as products made from paper were heavily regulated in hopes to preserve Earth's entire tree population. The book Ezra held had yellowing around the borders of the stiffened pages. There were his pencil notes within the lines and an ink message on the first page to a person named Orielle from the book's prior owner. A loud buzzing sound from the shipping docks grabbed Ezra's attention.

He had been sitting where Dax told him to wait for the past thirty minutes on one of Mars's commercial docks. He scanned the docks until a familiar figure caught his eye. Aloisa was short and stocky compared to the group of men she was conversing with. Ezra could see through her tough persona wardrobe there was physical softness, but underneath was a system of muscular strength that has been fine tuned from years of training. She’s not physically weak and certainly not mentally weak, he thought. Her dark auburn hair was in the usual high bun he’s seen her wear previously. Even from his distance he could see her clear grey eyes and flirtatious smile. What is she talking about with them? She made eye contact him and smiled. Ezra closed the book, wrapped it in soft cloth, and placed it into his canvas satchel. Her approach was slow and deliberate. He recalled to himself:

...Those two, in paradise, were given a choice: happiness without freedom, or freedom without happiness. There was no third alternative…

Without removing her gaze from his face Aloisa asked, “Was that a book I saw? A bound book?”

“It is indeed a bound paper book,” Ezra hummed.

“Such a rare commodity. Honestly I wouldn’t have guessed you as a reader type, let alone own a physical book.” Ezra stiffened his lips and looked away. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to come off as an asshole. It’s just that many people don’t read...literature. I’m being presumptuous. What were you reading?”

“Well you have presumed correctly. A suitable work of art by Yevgeny Zamyatin,” Ezra shot at her.

“Russian literature, impressive. A subversive piece of literature if I recall correctly,” she beamed. “Your ship is ready. Would you like a tour?”

“You wrap your demands in a cloak of pleasant inquiries?” Ezra wearily smiled at her. He was sure he could run off at any time and they would be forced to find someone else. Yet, he knew too much now. The business of sneaking human commodities away from The United Corps had one exit and it was death.

***********************

The Opportunity was a few decades old, but still highly functional and offered more space and amenities than Ezra’s antiquated ship. Ezra’s hand glided along the seats of the flight deck. His fingers lingered on the control panels. His calloused fingers felt every button, knob, and lever. He felt out of his element as he took in the aged grandeur of Opportunity’s technology.

“I don’t know if I can fly this,” he choked.

“I can,” Aloisa rebutted, “so that’s not an issue.”

Ezra turned to face her, “You’ll be gracing me with your presence?”

“Of course,” she laughed, “You can’t fly my ship.”

“It’s yours?”

“Officially I am the prime owner and you’re the sub. I don’t have the mining credentials to get through The Final Wall. Mining credentials...are out of our league to fake apparently and we have no friends on The Final Wall, yet.”

The Final Wall was a term dubbed during the early days of The United Corps for the perimeter between Pluto and the Kuiper Belt. More than a dozen of Final Fleet ships were scattered about with military personnel and weapons stationed to make sure no one escaped the paradise of The United Corps. Rendering a ship untraceable to pass the The Final Wall is impossible and a fleet ship could detect a rebel one from a far off distance. Only certified ships and their operators with proper IFF transponders could go beyond. Ezra’s prior long standing certifications proved to be valuable.

“Where do we need to go?” Ezra asked as he plopped down in the pilot chair and swivelled around to face Aloisa.

“We need to drop off the payload...at Proxima Sol Alpha base. With this ship it’ll take us two years. We put the payload, so to speak, in hypersleep. It’ll save on resources and there’ll be no noise to pick up on by the Final Fleet. We could take turns in hyper if you prefer.”

“And that is it? We take a two year vacation to transport...goods and come back?”

“Yes, exactly.” Aloisa waited for a response from Ezra, he was deep in thought and no longer made eye contact with her. “Would you like to see the kitchen and quarters?”

The kitchen was outfitted in white streamline furnishings and a garden wall. Ezra thumbed a basil leaf, it was soft and crushed easily between his fingers. The heavy aroma stimulated his senses. Garden walls were a real treat in ships. They provided fresh food, oxygen, and were visually pleasing among the many dull walls that kept them safe from the vacuum of space.

Ezra knew Aloisa was observing him, it didn’t bother him. She stood in the corner with her arms crossed, her eyes followed him as he moved through the kitchen. A stove, a sink, coffee machine, electric kettle, cupboards, a variety of utensils, and packaged spices. This ship has been lived in and taken care of, Ezra thought. This ship has been well loved and it’s apparent from the state of the kitchen. He appreciated it. His hand guided him around the counter space and Ezra met Aloisa’s gaze. She looks disquieted.

The quarters were spacious for a ship of Opportunity’s size due to some of them being converted to hold extra hypersleep pods. There were four small quarters the size of walk-in closets and two large ones with decent sized beds.

“The mattresses are firm, so I hope you like to sleep on a rock. It’s good for the back supposedly. The lights are dimmable, you have a closet, a safe, smart mirror, and the lavatories are just down the hall with a shower. Rooms are soundproof,” Aloisa stated as if she had memorised a speech.

Ezra gave the personal quarter a final look. The light gave a warm glow that soothed and comforted him if only temporary. The glow radiated across Aloisa’s face, he found he couldn’t take his eyes off her face. She propped herself up against the door frame and was staring at an imaginary spot on the floor. She had a scar perpendicular on her left eyebrow, faded by time. Her scarred eyebrow raised when she felt him.

“What’s your verdict? You haven’t said it to me yet,” she declared.

“I know I’m not the most moral man in the universe. I have done questionable things Kevva only knows. But this is a venture that is bigger than I have ever done. It’s bigger than my scope. I’m not familiar with extravagant transportation, missions, or danger that could potentially bring innocent people to a demise. I’ve known Dax for nearly a generation and he gambled on me,” Ezra admitted. He wasn’t sure why he said what he did to a stranger.

“Do you think he made an erroneous gamble?”

Ezra hung his head down. Clearly Dax thought highly of him to trust him with this mission. Twenty lives depended on being transported to Proxima Sol Alpha safely and without notice.

“I’ve been in peril before,” he nodded to where his right arm should be, “I’ve been shot, poisoned, abandoned, and this task should not be weighing on my mind as heavy as it does.”

“Do you think it’s because this is the first time you were made aware that the system is not a favourable one to so many while it’s been extremely favourable to you even though it may not have seemed that way? That if caught, you would be sentenced to the fighting ring until they deemed it was your time to go?”

“To think being stranded on a death-dealing planet with little food was a privilege. You are willing to risk your own life for these people?”

“At times like this we have to make a choice between what’s morally right and the law. I like to think I’m making the morally right choice, are you?” She straightened her posture as Ezra bit his lower lip and moved closer to her, he could feel her breath against his chest. “Dax will be depositing an extra five thousand credits into your account today.”

“So I can get a new arm?”

“You can do whatever you want with it, but you should definitely say yes out loud to me. I know you already made up your mind, but I need to hear you say it to me, to my face,” she insisted.

“How do you know I have resolved to do this mission? I know I didn’t give Dax an affirmative,” Ezra retorted.

“You’re reading a Zamyatin novel. You’ve been a rebel all your life and you never knew it,” she said sternly.

Ezra conceded, “My answer is a yes, I’ll use my highly valuable certifications to get you and a sleeping payload to Proxima Sol Alpha safely.”

#Pedro Pascal #ezra prospect #dystopian future #dystopia #space is a harsh mistresses #sci fi writing #sci fi #science fiction #prospect (2018)#writing #yevgeny zamyatin

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bookswithelli · 4 years ago

Text

a darker shade of magic: review

synopsis:

Kell is one of the last Antari—magicians with a rare, coveted ability to travel between parallel Londons; Red, Grey, White, and, once upon a time, Black.

Kell was raised in Arnes—Red London—and officially serves the Maresh Empire as an ambassador, traveling between the frequent bloody regime changes in White London and the court of George III in the dullest of Londons, the one without any magic left to see.

Unofficially, Kell is a smuggler, servicing people willing to pay for even the smallest glimpses of a world they'll never see. It's a defiant hobby with dangerous consequences, which Kell is now seeing firsthand.

After an exchange goes awry, Kell escapes to Grey London and runs into Delilah Bard, a cut-purse with lofty aspirations. She first robs him, then saves him from a deadly enemy, and finally forces Kell to spirit her to another world for a proper adventure.

Now perilous magic is afoot, and treachery lurks at every turn. To save all of the worlds, they'll first need to stay alive.

review under the cut!

stars: ★★★★☆

First of all, although I rated this book 4 stars, there were some issues with it (mainly involving representation and characterization). I rated it 4 stars because I enjoyed reading it despite its issues, but I recognize that the mediocre representation may turn others away from this book.

characters & representation

Before I begin this section of the review, I would like to say that I am not visually impaired and therefore do not have any authority on that subject. My comments on the treatment of Lila's missing eye are merely based on my own observations and what I have heard from visually impaired people on the topic.

Lila:

A cross-dressing thief and aspiring pirate with a penchant for knives, Lila Bard brings to mind the likes of Inej Ghafa from Leigh Bardugo's Six of Crows and Elizabeth Swann from Pirates of the Caribbean. There were times when I really liked Lila; she can be sassy and morally questionable which is always interesting to see when well done. However, her character had a few issues that I wanted to address.

“Delilah Bard looked like a king. No...she looked like a conqueror.” pg. 289

When will fantasy authors stop romanticising conquerors and colonization?! This may be a smaller issue since aside from White London (which is villainized) there is no mention of it in the overarching plot, but this line just really bothered me. It makes me think that V.E. Schwab is a fan of adult and YA fantasy authors like Sarah J. Maas and others who write their main characters to be colonizers and romanticize it in the process. I don’t think this line was necessary at all, and I wish the second sentence had been removed or modified to something a little less problematic (e.g. she looked like a pirate/captain/etc.)

"How did you lose it...your eye?" -Master Tieren, pg. 327

It is revealed near the end of the book that Lila has been missing an eye for as long as she can remember, and she wears a glass eye as a replacement. This is all well and good, but the consequences of her impaired vision are never explored. The only reason the reader knows that Lila is missing an eye is because the author tells them. The narrative never discusses how Lila's lack of an eye affects her day to day life, and it's only brought into the story when it is needed for the plot.

It’s also worth mentioning that Lila is the only female character with a large role in this book, and no matter how “feminist” her character is, there’s not a lot of women in this book that are portrayed positively and with depth.

Rhy:

I actually really liked Rhy and I loved his relationship with Kell. I love sibling love in books and we so rarely get positive sibling relationships, so this was nice to see! It’s also really important to have queer people of color in books. However, I don’t think Rhy’s character is good bi/pan representation (I will refer to him as bi in this review for the sake of brevity, but it’s worth mentioning that neither term is mentioned so Rhy could canonically identify as either).

“He would flirt with a nicely upholstered chair, and he never takes anything seriously.” -Kell, pg. 254

As a queer girl who has identified as bisexual in the past and may in the future, this is bad bi rep 101. Schwab is perpetuating the stereotype of the “promiscuous bi”, or one who flirts and/or sleeps with everyone and everything. This is not a bad characteristic in itself, but it is harmful bi rep because that is the way every bi character is portrayed in media. It reinforces the idea that bisexual people in real life are all like this, and it also reinforces biphobes’ points of view when they say that bisexual people are more likely to cheat because they sleep with more people. This is pretty much the most common stereotype of a bisexual person, so while I doubt that Schwab intended to be harmful in her portrayal of Rhy, it shows that she did not do much research on LGBT+ rep when writing her characters. I do know that some bi people were not bothered by this; however, I believe that writers should stay away from stereotypes, especially when writing characters that are marginalized. Even though promiscuity is not an inherently bad trait, it is harmful when applied to bisexual people because it reinforces real peoples’ beliefs and affects real life bisexuals. This is especially important here because Rhy is the only narrative-confirmed LGBT+ character in the first book. It's not the worst representation I've seen, since Rhy does have a personality outside his flirtatiousness and promiscuity (in fact, it's confirmed that this is a coping mechanism for him) but it's certainly not the best, and I'm just tired of seeing bisexual people represented this way in fiction.

Kell:

I know a lot of people who didn’t like Kell very much, and that is understandable. However, I found him really compelling. It’s refreshing to see a male lead in this genre who’s not jacked and a brooding asshole whose only redeeming quality is his dick size. He’s definitely moody, but not to the point where he becomes an abusive alpha male type guy (yes, I am aware that this is a very low bar). I genuinely enjoyed his character because he’s flawed. He’s stubborn and moody but he’s incredibly caring and he genuinely wants to help people. He feels alienated from his family so he rebels and gets himself in trouble. His character is written well because he’s not perfect by any means, but he’s still likeable and you still root for him.

Holland:

Holland is what every YA love interest wishes they were. Honestly. He’s given no excuses for his actions, and yet he is still sympathetic. You understand that he is under the control of Astrid and Athos, but you also understand that all he has done for years is carry out their orders, and that changes a person. His story is heartbreaking, but that doesn’t change what he has done. He knows it, Kell knows it, Lila knows it, the reader knows it. Honestly, if he were in a YA fantasy romance, I bet Holland would be the love interest; his female “mate” would change him for the better, and he would never face the consequences of his actions. That makes his arc in this story all the more enjoyable. Holland is one of my favorite characters of all time, and not because he’s a perfect “book boyfriend” or whatever, but because his story and character are genuinely interesting and executed well.

worldbuilding

I loved the worldbuilding in this book. There was a bit of an info-dump in the beginning, but I’m willing to look past that because the world was so engaging and interesting that I forgot about the dense first chapter once I got past it. Each London has a distinct feel, and they are all almost tangible. The descriptions of each made me feel like I was in the Londons along with Kell and Lila. It seems like the system would be complicated, but Lila sums it up well:

“There’s Dull London, Kell London, Creepy London, and Dead London.” -pg. 198

After the initial info-dump, Schwab weaves information about the magic system seamlessly through the book, leaving enough mystery for the reader to wonder at what might happen in the next books, but never leaving out so much that the reader is confused. I really appreciated the rules that existed around magic. It’s draining, and Antari magic requires blood, which means there is a limit to how much you can perform at once. Magic is seen to affect the world beyond the characters and their main conflict, which I was very happy about as well. There are too many fantasy novels where the magic system has no rules and only exists to further the plot, but in this world you can see it everywhere. The politics of Red London and White London are affected by magic, even where it is not necessarily relevant to the plot. You can see small amounts of magic being performed in the streets of Red London: spells to protect from thieves, etc. Magic is normal for the people in Red London, and it is treated as such in the text.

pacing & plot

This book flew along. I’ve read it multiple times now, and every time, I can’t stop until I finish. And then I want to move along to the next book immediately. It manages to keep up a great pace and still build up to an exciting climax. Schwab’s lyrical writing is not flowery, but it draws the reader in and carries them along the story effortlessly. It’s very engaging and accessible language, which makes it a good stepping stone into adult fantasy (especially if you’re coming from YA).

Overall, I really enjoyed this book. The representation that it gets praised so highly for is disappointing, but aside from that I enjoyed most of the characters and the writing was beautiful. The plot and world were engaging and made me want to read the second book immediately (even though I’m on my 3rd or 4th reread). I would recommend this book for fans of YA fantasy who want to get into adult fantasy - this book is categorized as adult, but I found it a lot easier to read than other adult fantasies. For me, this book is a reminder that you can recognize the flaws in a book and still enjoy it, so remember to stay critical, even of your favorite books :)

#adsom #a darker shade of magic #kell maresh #lila bard #rhy maresh #holland vosijk #ve schwab #booklr #review

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rideboldlyride · 4 years ago

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9 + 50 for the ask game please!

Alrighty...

9. Big Oof. Well, I will always go back to my all-time favorite WIP has got to be @ifyouwereamelodymeg‘s Forged In Flames. I just adore their characterization of Zuko and Katara (and the interactions between Zuko and Sokka is some of the most down to earth dialogue I’ve read between them. It’s literary gold.) If you’re up to a little more NSFW/Dark!AU I can’t get enough of @fictionissocialinquiry‘s Rumor Has It, (and I’m in a constant state of suspense for the sequel’s update, because damn that hurts.) On the subject of Fictionisasocialinquiry’s writing, I have read and reread her Mending Wounds more times than I can count. It’s my top Book 2 deviation fic by far. For something a little different, I also greatly enjoy Crushinator’s Half Asleep- It’s got spirit world goodies, something I wish that we saw more of in ATLA. AND last but not least, there’s a one-shot called Five (no not that Five) by NikkiRA and it’s such a perfect little slice of married life with kids. I absolutely adore it- the tone is dead on as a parent who lives 90% of my life tired, I feel viscerally the tone and sentiments of that one shot. There are so many amazing stories, and It was hard to choose which ones are my favorite, so I just went with the ones that I have reread the most (thanks AO3 for telling me how many hits I’ve made on a particular story.... I just needed to know I’ve read all of these at least 4 times each.) For my Hummingbird Fans? I know you’ve all already read this, because who doesn’t love @elleleh‘s MRAU, But.... Go reread it. Or if you haven’t, go do yourself the favor and read it for the first time (not you kiddos-- mind the tags, like Rumor Has It, above.)

50. So, I’m going to do this for both of the Fandoms I have sitting out there: First off, O-Yoroi folks, hmu later. I can’t get to the file that has the WIP in it currently, so instead here’s a part of the one-shot I haven’t finished: "And just what do you think you're any good for?? How many people have you failed? How many times were you too drunk to notice or care?!?"

The petite ball of rage spun back to him, and he tried to choke out a response, but the tremors and chills shook him to the bone. His red eyes met hers, pleading, begging for mercy where he knew he didn't deserve any.

"Where were you when Raven left? When Tai was alone, broken?!"

She spat, silver eyes flashing. "Where were you when I died - alone?!?"

Tears gathered at his eyes, as his body was wracked with spasms once more. Fighting back a sob, he reached for her, but she pulled away, disgust across her features.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry, Sum-mer. I'm s-so sorr-ry."

Losing his tentative balance on the edge of his bed, he tumbled forward on to the ground with a crash. Falling freely, his tears streaked and blurred his vision. Even through it all, he could see her expression clearly. Sneering, she was cold and indifferent to the helpless man at her feet.

"What a useless waste. Weak. Why do you even bother?"

He curled tighter, turning away from her piercing gaze. But through his fingers, he saw a flash. A beacon of light in the storm. An almost identical doppelganger to the woman berating him.

Ruby.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he drew hands into fists and dug them into his eyes.

I am wanted. I am loved. I am worthwhile. I am wanted…. Over and over, he repeated the words in his head, until they filled his thoughts, drowning out even the eternal onslaught of Summer's degradation.

"No." His voice was a raspy whisper, but it was surprisingly steady. "No. You are not her."

Pulling his hands away from his eyes, he slowly opened them. Despite the pain flaring, he stared on. "You are not Summer Rose." Second: My ATLA buddies: here’s a bit for the future in Perfect: She had seen it, of course, all the hints of his existence out of the ethereal plane. While the Blue Spirit of legend communed with the mortals, his home was solidly beyond their realm. This Blue Spirit was a man using the guise to accomplish great deeds. She had seen it in the occasional flash of skin at the side of the mask, the thin red lines that she had healed, the heaving chest when they had barely escaped from peril.

And as she met up with him atop the small building that night, Katara, in her full Painted Lady regalia, admitted some harsh truths. Never once had she heard his voice, seen his face, and yet, she could swear familiarity. Imagined, she was certain, but as he stood silhouetted, his back to her, she half-expected him to turn his face to her. To see his amber eyes flashing back at her, to catch the irregularity of his skin in the light, to see his tell-tale smirk. And in that night, she was ready to admit the feelings she had been fighting for so many years.

Instead, when the man before her turned, she met the cruel, impassive smile of the Blue Spirit, and she could feel the pricks of tears behind her eyes. He cocked his head silently, questioning. While she shook her head, she felt the tears begin to fall, and she moved to his side. Slowly, she brought her hand up, her fingertips grazing the outside outline of the mask. When he didn’t move or pull away, she found the straps at its edge, and followed them back.

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moonlitgleek · 6 years ago

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"[Arya and Sansa] actually have a bit in common in terms of the skills they are picking up from their individual journeys" Can you please expand on that? I'd love to read more about their parallels!

I’ll speak to the parallels that I was thinking of when I wrote that, but I’m afraid this is not going to be comprehensive because it’s been a while since I read the books. I might come back to it later when I have the chance to do a reread.

Adapting to their surroundings and managing their image

Both Arya and Sansa have a penchant for adapting which develops from an intuitive reaction to a conscious effort that plays on managing people’s perception of them. Sansa approaches it through the medium of a lady’s education; she instinctively employs her socially-approved image as a proper lady and her courtesies to try and sway the court in her favor when she delivers her plea for Ned’s life, then consciously and carefully modifies her mannerisms and her wardrobe to reflect the persona she wants to convince others of as she shifts from playing Joffrey’s dedicated royal betrothed to Littlefinger’s daughter-slash-mentee to the bastard girl the Vale lords think her to be. She takes care of how to present herself to various factions and leans into people’s perception of her as unthreatening and naive to achieve her goals. Who would think that little Sansa was planning her escape in the godswood? Who would pay much attention to the unassuming bastard girl?

Arya also leans into people’s mistaken perceptions of her. She is repeatedly mistaken for a boy which she eventually uses to conceal her true identity and evade capture. We see her high awareness of how to behave while with Yoren to pass as a boy and is conscious of how her dirty appearance at Harrenhal sells her false identity as a peasant and tries to behave accordingly. She learns to be conscious of her mannerisms in the House of Black and White to adapt to the identities she slips between. In fact, one of the main things Arya is taught during her time in Braavos is how to adapt to her surroundings and adjust everything else down to her body language and facial expressions to take on a new persona and she is very adept at it. She has also repeatedly uses the fact that people underestimate her because of her size or her gender to get close enough to do what she wants, whether that’s to get information or to launch an attack as she did with the weasel soup.

That’s three skills the girls are getting better at: learning to adapt, learning how to use self-presentation to support an endeavor or alter perception, and learning how to deliberately play on others’ expectations to accomplish your goal. All of which are extremely handy in political situations.

Experiencing the life of the disadvantaged

The experiences that Sansa and Arya go through in their individual journeys are sure to inform the political philosophy of both girls. As we’ve seen with the example of Aegon V and his pro-smallfolk reforms, a life among the lower social classes can have a significant effect on policy. Aegon V lived with the commoners over the course of his squiring for Ser Duncan the Tall which made him more attuned to the needs and struggles of a social class that often goes ignored by the high lords. Daenerys’ powerlessness and harsh life similarly informs her anti-slavery campaign in Slaver’s Bay.

In the same vein, Sansa and Arya’s arcs in the aftermath of Ned’s death leads them to live the life of the disadvantaged in a way that could only elevate their natural compassion. The girls are innately kind, and Arya in particular has always been sensitive to injustices inflicted on the weak, but it remains that the girls start the series with a great deal of privilege as the daughters of a great lord who, despite his own compassionate nature, doesn’t really know what it is to live a disenfranchised or unprivileged life. That Sansa experiences the prejudiced attitude leveled at bastards and Arya shares in the hardships the smallfolk go through could only bolster their innate kindness in having them able to empathize with the plight of those who suffer from the class hierarchy that tramples the weak in the game of thrones. The degree of separation that the girls had before gets degraded to an extent. They struggle through those hardships and prejudices, through the cruelty and apathy of the noble class towards a population they don’t see as valuable enough. That can only make Sansa and Arya mindful of how their decisions reflect on those below them in the social ladder when they are the ones in charge and enable them to be a source of change to the social attitude towards lower classes.

A similar effect would result from how the girls went through experiences that showed themthe horrors of war. Arya travels through the Riverlands and sees how war, even just and righteous ones, ravishes the people and exacts a toll on the commoners first and foremost. She sees the destruction and the misery Robb’s troops inflict on innocents in a similar way to the Lannisters’. Sansa lives the reality of being a political hostage and what it really means to have your life hanging on the balance. While the Lannisters push and break the boundaries of acceptable practices as always, holding hostages against the good behavior of their family on the threat of death remains an acceptable political tool that everyone freely partakes in. It is also a fundamentally unjust practice that inflicts harm on people for the actions of their kin. The Starklings have all grown up with Theon suffering from that perilous position but none of them really understood it. That builds an awareness of the consequences of these accepted political practice and puts the human side of the game of thrones firmly on their minds.

Leadership skills

The arcs of the Starks girls, different as they get, keep circling back to how they personify an ideology that implanted the Starks into the very history of the North. Despite not being in power the way characters like Jon or Dany are in their own leadership roles, the girls find themselves in spaces that allows them to understand power, whether as a duty or a privilege, and build their own leadership model. The thing to note is that the Stark girls understand that leadership is a duty of protection and care. So it’s not just that Sansa saves Dontos Hollard or talks Joffrey into giving that poor Kingslander with the dead baby money instead of running her down, it’s not just that Arya fiercely pursues justice for those victimized by the Lannisters from Mycah to Ned to Lanna to Lomy; it’s that the girls understand that that leadership is a responsibility. Sansa correctly identifies that ruling through love through easing the suffering of people is the correct principle and considers it a main part of royal role.Arya steps in for her family taking on the role of the Stark in Winterfell when she metes out justice to Daeron in the name of the Starks. Both girls reflect their father’s ideology and teachings, with Arya directly invoking Ned’s leadership lessons to Robb and Jon.

As the story progresses, the girls get more instances where they step up to take charge in time of need. Arya emerges as a natural leader during the attack on Yoren’s group and tries her best to steer her little newfound pack away from danger. She plots with Jaqen to free the Northmen and refuses to leave Gendy and Hot Pie behind when she flees Harrenhal. She takes Weasel under her wing and is very protective of her. Being caring and protective has always been in Arya’s nature but we see her growing awareness of the unfairness of the world and her determination to push back. This is the girl who stepped in between Joffrey and Mycah and was literally the only person who cares about justice for Mycah after all. Justice is a major concern for Arya, but she also clearly understands that justice has to be tempered with mercy as shown in her reaction to the Karstark men dying in crow cages.

Where Arya leans more towards the protector role, Sansa leans towards the providing aspect of leadership. She is associated with the wish to provide foodstuff to the starving population of King’s Landing, with successfully getting Joffrey to give money, with giving comfort to the terrified women during the Blackwater, with helping Lancel and calling for medical attention. Her more traditional feminine skills like sewing and running the household has always been cited as majorly important skills to surviving in winter. Sansa’s story associates her with relief efforts which she is positioned to do as winter kicks in with a vengeance considering that Littlefinger is currently hoarding food up in the Vale. I’m quite invested in the theory that she’ll be the one to hold Winterfell during the thick of the War for the Dawn as the castle becomes a refuge for those fleeing winter and the Others. I think both girls will embody the historical roles of the Starks in that war, with Arya protecting the North with her wolf pack and Sansa comforting and taking care of the civilians inside the castle.

Political analysis and deduction skills

The girls are each developing a mind for political analysis that is being bolstered by the crash course they are receiving in the Vale and the House of Black and White respectively, under mentors who actively encourage them to hone their observation skills and connect the dots to a larger picture.

Sansa’s skill shows when she starts looking closer at her maids in the aftermath of Ned’s death and concludes that they are spying on her for Cersei. Her affinity for political analysis shows itself when she thinks over what Margaery’s betrothal to Joffrey and Loras’ appointment to the Kingsguard mean in light of Joff’s temperament, unknowingly putting her finger on the design of the Purple Wedding. In the aftermath of the wedding, she connects the missing amethyst in her hairnet and Dontos’ insistence that she wears it to the wedding to Joffrey’s murder, a fact Littlefinger confirms later. She also figures out that Petyr framed Tyrion from the information that he was the one who arranged for the jousting dwarves. In the Vale, Sansa understands the significance of Petyr’s act in granting Nestor Royce the Gates of the Moon as a political play, and pays close attention to the Lords Declarant upon their arrival in the Eyrie, noting the purpose behind the seating arrangements and deducing that Lyn Corbray is working with Littlefinger. Her training montage with Littlefinger includes lessons her about inheritance, the intricacies of social interactions and the interpersonal dynamics of Vale nobility which is immensely valuable in a political setting. Sansa is also basically running the Eyrie right now and her idea about the tourney of the Winged Knights and organizational skills shows budding political skill.

Meanwhile, Arya is developing a knack for gathering information from multiple sources and how to separate hard facts from her own deductions. She has always been good at listening and her underfoot tendencies gave her access to a lot of important information ahead of time, even if she does not always realize their importance in the moment. From the plotting of Varys and Illyrio to the design of the Red Wedding, Arya gets bits and pieces about some rather significant events. Syrio Forel hones her skills by teaching her to be fast and silent, to look closely and observe carefully which Arya consciously employs across her arc, most notably when she sees the guards in grey cloaks waiting by the Wind Witch and figures out that they are not her father’s men. The kindly man only bolsters Arya’s perceptiveness by forcing her to rely on her other senses and furthers her awareness of body language and facial expressions, both her own and other people’s, which helps her see through people’s lies and also sell her own lies capably. The kindly man also encourages Arya further to observe and listen once in Braavos by asking her to learn three new things every day, and the things Arya bring ranges from mundane (jabes, riddles) to important politically (sailor’s tales about the war in Slaver’s Bay and Dany’s dragons) and economically (”tricks of this trade or the other”).

On top of that, Arya’s time in Braavos exposes her to adifferent culture, ruling model and political atmosphere, which she we see her use to build a growing understanding of the politics of Bravoos and how it compares to that of Westeros. Her political ability shines through when she uses the data she gathered to deduce that the death of the current ill Sealord will bring a conflict and assassinations till a new one, who she identifies as Tormo Fregar, comes out on top. Arya’s knack of making friends with any and everyone, whether highborn and lowborn, Westeros native or not, means she is quite capable of building a huge network of relationships and diverse sources of information.

Parallels also exist in the way Sansa and Arya are both learning to recognize cues that they are being played or lied to. To slip between personas as befits their circumstances but without losing the core of their identity. They are gaining a lot of knowledge about political intrigue and learning the tools of diplomatic relations. The methods and the aspects of their training montages may differ, but I don’t think the skills they are each acquiring are all that divergent. In fact, I think the girls’ skills are rather complementary, and they are each meant to enhance and round off the other’s skillset.

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #valyrianscrolls #sansa stark #arya stark #parallels #Anon asks #ask box

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suchadearie · 7 years ago

Text

A Game of Hearts and Steel (14/?)

A/N: *throws glitter* Hello again I’m back how have y’all been... This time it’s been just 8 months since the last update, so I’m calling this progress!

Summary: When her father, Lord Avon, gambles away Lady Belle’s virginity, she’s not amused. and Lord Gold, winner of this rather indignant prize, finds himself thrown out at a rapier’s point. But when it turns out that the shipping company he’s set his eyes on only comes with Lady Belle’s hand in marriage, he decides to overcome his hurt pride to obtain said company. But his attempts of courting Lady Belle are not as successful as he’d like them to be…

Rating: NC-17 (overall)

[Masterlist][Recent Updates]

Read on AO3

Thanks to @maplesyrupao3 for looking it over for me!

Belle had hardly been gone for an hour when a boy delivered a letter to Gold's doorstep. He was still in his room, looking out onto the garden while remembering her softness beneath his lips. Those five kisses had been the best kisses of his life, and if he never was to have another kiss of hers, he could still be happy to have had as much. When Dove knocked and brought him the envelope made of creamy paper, his name scrawled onto it in her unmistakable hand, his heart lurched into his throat.

"She can't be without my help for even five minutes, can she?" he quipped, trying to hide the wild beat of his pulse as he picked the letter up from the tray. Dove only raised his eyebrows, and Gold waved him away. He wanted to open her letter in privacy, free from Dove's judging scrutiny. Turning towards the window again, he waited for the click of the door that indicated Dove's exit, tipping the envelope against his lips and inhaling its scent. Much like a fool in love, he had to admit.

The feeling dissipated like a wisp of smoke in a strong breeze after reading the first sentence, and by the end of it, the letter was shaking so hard in his grip that the writing blurred before his eyes. He crumpled the paper in his fist.

"Dove!" he roared.

The door opened almost immediately, as if Dove had been lurking outside, waiting to be called. "Yes?"

"Call for the carriage."

Dove frowned and Gold raised the fist with the balled up letter and growled, "Now!"

"Is everything alright, my Lord?" The man still didn't move, as if he were deaf.

Gold started pacing. "Do I look like everything is alright? Apparently Lady Belle didn't know any better than to run home to Papa and announce her engagement!"

"Oh. I'm sorry that your plans to marry the girl have been thwarted— "

"No, Dove, she announced her engagement to me!" He threw the letter against Dove's chest, from where it tumbled to the floor like a slain bird. Dove followed the letter's fall with a puzzled look in his face.

"I don't understand. I thought you wanted to marry her?"

"But without being asked? She just up and confronted me with it!"

"Yes, I can't imagine how that must feel," Dove said with a slight head shake. He bent down and picked up the letter, smoothing it out and skimming over the scribbled lines.

"I did everything so she wouldn't be forced into such a situation! I did not want to force myself on her. I —"

"You wanted her to choose you."

Gold glared at Dove. "I wanted her to be free," he stated with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Ah, yes. Anyone with eyes could see that you gambled for her body, bought shares of her company and schemed your pretty net around her because you wanted her to be free."

"You are supposed to be on my side."

Dove raised his bulging brows, the corners of his mouth twitching. "I am," he said dryly, "but it appears that you don't know what you want. Only a few months ago you decided that the only way to get that shipping company was by marriage. Well, you did it. She's going to marry you."

Gold exhaled, blowing air through his teeth. "Yes, but why? I offered her every way out."

Dove observed the letter in his hand, wrinkling his nose. "Ask her."

"I would, but I'm still waiting for the carriage!"

With a subtle roll of his eyes, Dove turned, placing the letter on a sideboard by the door before he left, his silence speaking of his exasperation. Gold picked up the letter once more, rereading it. It made no sense and a slight edge of unease crept into him, piercing the dark cloud of his anger.

"My Lord,

I could no longer keep the secret of our engagement to myself. I informed my father of our plans. Your presence is required here to bring light to this matter and make an official announcement.

Yours, Belle"

This time, he folded the letter more carefully and slipped it into the inner pocket of his jacket, adamant to demand an explanation for every single word of it. Then he headed downstairs and out to the waiting carriage.

***

At Avon's town house, he was not only awaited by Lady Belle and her father, but also by Lady Leopold and a Mr. Humbert, Bow Street Runner.

Lady Belle shot him a silent, pleading look upon his entrance, as if he needed more than one short look at her panic-stricken face to realize the reason for this turn of events. They'd been caught after all.

Gold hurried across the salon to where Belle sat on the same sofa she’d occupied when rejecting him, pulling her hands into his in a blatant display of affection. Out of the corner of his eyes, he observed Lady Leopold watching with a stony expression as he kissed Belle's knuckles. He let go of her hands and turned to face the rest of them.

"Lady Leopold. What a surprise. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"It's not a pleasure for me, my Lord. My step daughter, the murderer of my dear husband, has been freed."

"That's quite tragic, but it has hardly anything to do with Lady Belle, has it?"

"Lady Belle housed the vile creature! Who says she didn't help her escape? I demand that the house be searched."

"Now you're reaching. How would the delicate Lady Belle be capable of helping a criminal like your daughter? It makes no sense."

Lady Leopold scowled, baring her teeth. "She wasn’t home when my step daughter escaped, and she was nowhere to be found all night. Even you must admit that looks suspicious."

Gold glanced down. Belle's face was pasty, her eyes fixed on her hands in her lap, her lips pressed into a thin line that did little to stop her trembling.

"Not at all,” he said. “It’s hardly suspicious for a member of the upper class to spend the night away from home. However, my fiancée has been with me."

Lord Avon, who'd been quiet till then, whimpered.

"It's interesting, dare I say convenient, that no one has heard of this engagement yet, isn't it?" Impatience brimmed in Lady Leopold's voice. She stood from her chair, taking a step towards them, the air around her almost crackling with menace.

"Not at all. Considering the… circumstances, we wished to keep it quiet. I'm sure you understand."

"Oh, I understand perfectly." She tossed her head back, her lips forming a cruel snarl. "You took the filly for a ride and enjoyed it enough to buy up the whole stable. The story of how you won her… attention is all over London, my Lord."

Belle winced. Gold stepped in front of her, planting himself smoothly between her and Lady Leopold.

"You see, my Lady," he said, his voice low and full of menace, "some of us value integrity and pedigree. Not everyone is willing to stoop to carrying on with servants or Bow Street Runners."

Lady Leopold blanched. She narrowed her eyes at him, but Gold offered nothing more than a thin smile, refusing to let on what he truly knew and didn’t know. Without another word, Lady Leopold swept past him and headed for the doors, leaving the salon in a rustle of silk. Mr. Humbert followed her more slowly, pausing at the door.

"I'm sorry for causing such upset, my Lord. I think we're done now. Seems like Lady Blanchard was helped by the greed of her guards." He bowed, and Gold acknowledged it with a nod. He waited until Mr. Humbert had left before turning around and facing Belle.

"How dare you," he growled, completely ignoring the presence of Lord Avon. If possible, Belle turned even paler.

"I accepted your proposal, my Lord. I thought that's what you wanted."

"You didn't accept anything. You faced a perilous situation and saved yourself by throwing me to the wolves!"

"So you don't want to marry me anymore?"

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Avon interjected, but neither Gold nor Belle paid him any mind.

"I didn't want to be presented with a fait accompli!"

Belle stood, smoothing out her skirts with a somber look in her eyes. "Well, I'm sorry that you had to experience something as upsetting as that, my Lord. Since you no longer desire my hand in marriage, I suggest we announce the retraction of our engagement."

"There hasn't even been an official announcement of our engagement yet!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Besides, this would ruin what’s left of your reputation, you know that. You'd be persona non grata once and for all."

Belle lifted her chin. "I have been a pariah before. And it's not like I have been eager to lose control of all my assets to my husband. You're doing me a favor, really." Her voice was taut, close to breaking, and it turned his insides upside down.

"Lady Leopold won't keep quiet about our indiscretion. This is different from breaking someone's nose."

"I understand that no one would want to marry me anymore. Since I don't wish to marry either, it’s not the worst thing that could happen."

"Certainly. But no one would want to do business with you anymore, and that, I imagine, is the worst thing that could happen.” He paused, waiting for the meaning of his words to sink in. “The ton is already squeamish about being associated with trade. How do you imagine them to react to the idea of trading with a loose woman such as yourself? You might as well open up a brothel.”

Lord Avon gasped, and Belle straightened, her eyes gleaming unnaturally bright. Red blotches crept onto her cheeks. He'd hurt her but he couldn't care less. After all, she had brought them into this situation, and after backing him into a corner and forcing them into a marriage she obviously didn't want, she didn't get to play offended.

"What does it matter to you? My ruin doesn't affect you at all! You can pretend that I was the one to break things off, and you'll appear the victim of this unfortunate affair."

"That's because I am the victim! You left me no choice in all of this!"

Belle took a step towards him, her hands balled to fists at her sides.

"I cannot believe this. You tried everything to trap me into marriage, and now that you finally succeed, you no longer want me? After all we went through? After —" She stopped herself, flushing darker, and Avon's eyes widened as his eyes flicked back and forth between them.

"Belle! You really… Did he —"

Gold inhaled sharply, but Belle was quick to shut down her father. "You don't get to act so shocked, Father. You gave him my virginity, remember? In front of witnesses?" She'd turned to her father, who shrank back as he had to face her wrath.

When it wasn't directed at him, her temperament was a glorious thing to behold, and Gold's stupid heart gave a little flutter. He wasn't quick enough to hide his smile as she turned back, and she frowned.

"And you! There's no reason to look so smug! You gambled for my body and threatened to take me right then on the table in front of everyone!"

"It was an idle threat. I thought we left that behind us, after everything we went through…"

"You might shrug it off, but the peerage is going to remember. You heard Lady Leopold. You ruined me right that moment, without ever touching me."

Gold stepped back, faltering. He was everything wrong with her life, and now she had to marry him, not because she wanted, but because she had no other choice. It was only just that she had left him no other choice either. He was nothing more but means to an end, a solution saving her from a sentence as an accomplice and a murderer. They would be each other’s means to different ends.

"I regret that, believe me," he murmured, then turned and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

Gold paused at the door, taking a deep breath before he looked back at her. "I'm going to purchase a special license. You should start planning for our wedding."

Belle dropped onto the sofa like he'd pulled the rug out from under her. "Oh. But — why so fast?"

"What, getting cold feet after all? Lady Leopold won't keep this to herself. By evening, all of London will know that you're a fallen woman. I'd rather get it over with than subject you to weeks and weeks of cruelty at the hands of the ton. Not that it's going to be any better like this, but at least we're free to leave town then until the worst is over."

Belle nodded wordlessly, the color drained from her face. With a nod, Gold started leaving once again.

"Wait," Belle called. It was getting ridiculous, but with a deep sigh, Gold turned, tilting his head.

"What now? Everything's decided, or not?"

"What about my ships? My company?" Her voice shook, and she had her eyes firmly fixed on her knotted hands in her lap.

"We all have a price to pay, I suppose. As my wife, your assets will belong to me. I will take good care of the company you created." There was steel in his voice, and he didn't try to hide it. He'd wanted control over her ships from the very beginning, before he ever knew her or her father, and he wasn't going to give up the one thing he'd pursued relentlessly just because he came to like her. She'd known that her ships were the price she had to pay for her safety, and she'd sacrificed them willingly. Gold wasn't going to turn soft or forget the one thing that kept him alive after his son had died his cruel death.

As he turned and left the room, a sob broke from her lips, piercing him to the bones. He ignored it.

***

The wedding was a plain and quick ceremony only a few days later, witnessed only by Lord Avon, Belle's friend Lady Abigail, and Dove. Belle's eyes were red-rimmed, and she didn't manage to look at him, not even when he put the ring onto her finger. When it was her turn to give him his ring, her fingers trembled so much that she dropped it.

Gold stared straight ahead as she fell to her knees in a cloud of powder-blue silk and satin and frantically searched for the ring, while the clergyman, parish clerk, and their witnesses gaped in horror. At last she found it, and Gold extended his hand to help her up again. She was shaking like an aspen leaf, but this time she managed to put the ring onto his finger. As they wrote the lines, her writing was even more of a scrawl than usually, and Gold had never been more relieved for something to be over than when she had received the copy of their marriage lines and they left the church and climbed into his waiting carriage. There wouldn't be a breakfast with their guests, and they were heading straight for his house, from where they would depart for their wedding trip the following day.

But first, they had a night to spend.

Gold didn't want to think about the night. Belle sat opposite him in the carriage, her white-knuckled hands clawing at her skirts, from time to time turning the ring around her finger. She didn't look at him.

After a while, he couldn't take the silence any longer. They would reach his house in only a few minutes, but damn him if he didn't have the guts to talk to his wife. They'd never been locked in silence like this before. "How do you feel?" he asked, making his voice gentle. It sounded forced and strained instead.

"I'm sorry about the ring. It just slipped out of my fingers…"

"No matter. Any bride would be nervous on her wedding day."

"You weren't nervous." For the first time, she lifted her gaze and looked at him.

He quirked his lips. "I'm not a bride. Besides, this wasn't my first wedding."

"Oh. I didn't know you were married before. What happened?"

Gold cursed himself for his loose tongue, but just then they reached his house and the carriage rattled to a halt. "We're here! Welcome to your new home, my Lady."

She narrowed her eyes but didn't say another thing, as Dove opened the carriage door. Gold climbed out, then helped her. Her hand was cold in his and he tightened his grip, not letting go immediately when her feet touched the ground and she’d straightened her skirts out.

"I'm safe now, you can let go of me," she murmured, avoiding his gaze.

"I know. You don't need my help, but maybe I enjoy holding the hand of my new wife."

She pressed her lips into a thin line and looked at the house where Dove waited. She still couldn't look at him.

"Let me show you inside then, my Lady. Dove has prepared you a suite."

She inhaled sharply, her eyes flicking up for the shortest moment. "We're not going to share a bedroom?"

"Not unless you want to. However, I hope we still might take some time to sate your… curiosity."

She blushed furiously and jerked her hand away.

"What? No longer curious? Or did you hope this marriage would be just a ploy to give you cover? I'm sorry to inform you that this isn't what I had in mind."

"But why not? You got everything you wanted! You stole my ships, and took my everything from me!" Her voice cracked, and she stepped back and kneaded her hands, as if she needed to exorcise the memory of his touch from her skin.

"Just because I wanted your ships the most doesn't mean I don't want you as well. And judging by your curiosity, you like me well enough as well. I can give you new things to care for. Children, for example. Most women are perfectly happy caring for a family."

She stepped even farther away, as if his words exuded poison, and tears welled up in her eyes. "I had everything I ever wanted," she whispered.

"Too bad. Maybe you should have fled on one of your ships then, instead of pressing me into marriage. Now, let's go inside and I'll show you to your room." He closed the distance between them and took her arm, leading her inside and ignoring her resistance. After a short moment of fighting his lead, she gave up, following him like a lamb to the slaughter.

Blackness roiled inside him, and for a moment he wondered if the loss of her affection was too steep a price to pay for finally getting his revenge. Then he remembered the broken body of his boy, and decided that there was nothing he wouldn't give to make his son's killer pay. Belle's heart was just collateral.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle AU #fic: A Game of Hearts and Steel #Regency AU #Lord Gold #Lady Belle #fic #long post #I shouldn't be writing this #I have so many other things to write #but sometimes you just have to go back #to writing what you love #WWYL #sooo... what happened while I was gone

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bki-writing-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Redemptio

Due to this piece’s long length, I will be separating it into two parts. The post that follows is the first part of “Redemptio.”

Redemptio

Humanity could no longer run away from its problems like it had for the prior billions of years. There had been seemingly infinite instances of where the resilience of the species had been gloriously displayed: the escape from the human home-world “Earth” before the rapidly changing conditions made it no longer habitable for life, whilst simultaneously settling surrounding planets; the collaboration of humans on many sovereign planet-states that resulted in a temporary “pausing” on the star Sol, giving enough time for the evacuation of the Sol star system before the star exploded as a supernova that destroyed the whole system; the mass exodus of around a decillion people from one part of the Milky Way Galaxy to another section after the discovery that the collision of the Milky Way and Andromeda galaxies would throw their worlds into the new galaxy’s black hole. These types of feats were what the ancient humans would have called, “actions committed by immortal gods.”

The first of these migrations was hectic, messy, and almost failed. But as humanity became more technological and as their numbers grew exponentially to the point where such movements happened by the thousands in the same time frame, humanity perfected the art of running away. But during one of these fleeing movements, a darkness consumed an entire fleet of ships. Soon after, more fleets began to disappear, and word spread quickly once the darkness had made an entire planet cease to exist. This was the event humanity feared the most. This was the end of the Universe. Since the Universe’s birth, it had been expanded outward, never halting. But as the limited energy began to spread out too far, the Universe began to crumble back in on itself. This was the darkness eating up one planet after another, one star system after another, one galaxy after another.

Humanity responded by doing what it knew best, which was either escaping or buying time to escape. But even for the super advanced humans, no amount of technology or research could save them. Places available to move to were constantly being wiped away from their maps, and there was no way to stop or travel through the darkness of non-existent matter, now deemed as “The Void.” Quadragintillions’ worth of lives were lost as the Void swept through the Universe like a carving black ocean. The Void was not exactly uniform in how it spread; it reached further inside some sections of the Universe more than others. When the regression of the known Universe had left only five human-inhabited planets, the void bisected this group, cutting off one of these planets from the other four. This planet was called “Ahrgonik.”

Ahrgonik had a somewhat different development from nearby planets as everything around it began to be consumed. Generations before the Void separated it from the other remaining planets, the planet-state of Ahrgonik had decided that the Void would finally be the cosmic event to end all life. So, Ahrgonik started to carry out military raids on the planets that would be the next in line for consumption of the Void, sometimes traveling to the other side of the Universe and back to complete these raids. The targets of Ahrgonik’s raids were cemeteries, morgues, crematoriums, and any other infrastructure designed to process human corpses or remains. One of the most successful raids cleaned out a museum where skeletons from throughout Earth’s history were preserved, skeletons that had been painstakingly carried along with humans as they escaped from whatever peril loomed down upon them. Many planet-states became enraged, and religious communities that highly praised the dead became appalled. Some began to prepare warship fleets to protect against and attack the Ahrgoniks, but the rest of the cosmic community reminded them that technological research to stop the Void was more important. They hoped that the Void would soon “take care” of the Ahrgoniks, so there would be no need to worry.

Once the Ahrgoniks felt like they had secured all the last human remains they could, they begun to construct a thick, dense, maze-like complex of buildings, tunnels, and transport lines around their planet and moons. The dark metal structures rose as high as dozens of miles above the planet’s surface, effectively creating an urban blanket on Ahrgonik and her moons that looked like it was constructed by a drunken plumber. The planet was essentially a bunker at this point. The other planets in the area took notice, but once again were too focused on research to really care.

After stealing corpses and building add-ons to their planet, the Ahrgoniks finally revealed their plans. Seeing that all other research was futile, they announced that they were going to focus all their research to reconnecting with their ancient roots and attempt to find “what it means to be human” again. With the destruction of the Earth and countless other planets before the Void’s emergence, billions of years’ time and light-years of distance separating all sorts of humans, and minor evolutions leading to some human subspecies, the Ahrgoniks felt the original sense of what it is to be human had been lost. Now that the end of the Universe itself was near, they felt that this endeavor – “The Resuscitation Project” – would be the only one worth laboring over in the time left to live and that this knowledge was important to know before the Void consumed them as well – or at least that the search would make the whole experience easier to accept.

This announcement made the rest of the universe livid. They could not understand why anyone would not contribute to surviving the Void.

“Repugnant traitors!” was the official response of one planet-state.

“We must place sanctions on Ahrgonik and her moons to teach them a lesson! Remove all trading, flights, and embassies with the planet!” declared another.

“If none of us make it through this harrowing ordeal, you especially should feel ashamed!” lectured a third. But the Ahrgoniks kept up their research in their sheltered planet.

It had been thirty years since the Ahrgoniks had made their desires public. This was the time when the Void had begun to encroach around the group of final planets. In those thirty years, most planets had stopped their harassing comments or were no longer in existence to make their comments, but the planets closest to Ahrgonik had kept their tirade up. Even as the Void was in the process of cutting off Ahrgonik from those last four other planets, these cosmic neighbors sent berating messages.

“Who will resuscitate you now?”

“Filth like you should’ve been the first to go. You were the runt of the last humans!”

“Glad to see a real life example of natural selection. Your subspecies disgusts us… but hey now, not all subspecies can be shining descendants of their parent species.” As the Void cut between Ahrgonik and the other planets, their final transmissions transitioned to white noise, one by one. For once, the telecommunications were silent. Shortly after, the Void’s black screen enveloped Ahrgonik, but did not consume it. The nothingness left a shell of a couple of miles thick around the planet. Nothing could be seen through the Void: not the lights of spaceships, not any stars or the other planets, nothing. Ever since the beginning of the Resuscitation Project, the power generators keeping Ahrgonik alit were fully operational, but now that the planet was in its own little bubble, those generators and their humming seemed more powerful than ever.

This was Ahrgonik under the Resuscitation Project.

�� It had been seventy years since Ahrgonik secluded itself. Since then, the planet had learned and adopted Latin as the official language because the rulers saw it as the purest and the best language amongst all the Earth languages for rediscovering the traits of the human meaning. Hundreds of trillions of Ahrgoniks shuffled along tunnels, in trains, and in elevators under poor and constant artificial light to Discovery Rooms. If an Ahrgonik was not working as a politician, as an operator of Ahrgonik’s utilities, or as a hydroponic farmer feeding the planet, then they were one of the two active roles in the Resuscitation Project.

Titus Mensohl was the first to arrive in Discovery Room #056,427,334,875 for the day’s Memory Diving session. After a quick look around the room to check for others, Titus wasted no time in turning on the machinery. The copper room was one-hundred by two-hundred feet with walls of metal. The floor was made on one half of corrugated metal and the other half of glass, with a border of solid metal surrounding it all. A gray railing separated the two halves. The podium with the machinery controls sat close to the railing on the glass floor side – the side closer to the entrance. Equidistant on the other side of the railing was a metal chair with black plastic cushioning and arm-restraint straps. A helmet with wiring running into the floor, to the machinery below, was latched onto the headrest of the chair. This time, something about the room was different. Titus stared out the wide window facing outwards over the corrugated metal floor, presenting the nothingness of the Void. Even if there was only the occasional cargo ship making a delivery to look at, it lured Titus’s attention as none of the other Discovery Rooms he had been in had a window. He soon dismissed the pointless feature and went back to his work. The machines would always take approximately ten or so minutes to spool up. As the hum and sunset-colored lights of the machines grew more intense, Titus leaned on the railing with his arms folded and looked through the glass floor. He was unfazed by the hundred bodies, skeletons, or other human remains that were laid out in boxes in a grid-like fashion deep below his feet. But then, he had to reread some of the coding printed on the boxes his eyes flashed over. This room’s collection of remains had samples dating back farther than he had seen before. Not just a few, but a good proportion of the room’s samples were from Earth. Titus forced himself to look back at the machines. He couldn’t let himself get excited; he wasn’t even going to be seeing these samples’ memories.

The door opened and a man younger than Titus walked into the room. He immediately looked down at the samples and gritted his teeth, but snapped his gaze towards Titus. He extended a shaky hand.

“Good time, sir. I am Gallus Novkota, Memory Diver #121,890,677,791 reporting for this Memory Diving session,” the young man greeted, nodding. Titus grabbed the feeble hand before him.

“Titus, Memory Materializer #1,686. What, were you assigned today? Your number is so high.”

“No, no,” Gallus shook his head. “I was assigned yesterday!” Titus rolled his eyes. Gallus continued. “You must have been in service for a while to have such a low number, sir!”

“Yup, been a Memory Materializer for seventy years now. Most of us Materializers are old now, though. I’m ninety,” Titus responded, eyes gleaning on the machines’ interface.

“Ninety?!” Gallus cried, placing his hands on his head. “The M.M. I worked with yesterday was only thirty!”

Titus crossed his arms again. “That’s pretty young for a M.M…. how old are you then?”

“Twenty, sir,” Gallus beamed. By now, the machines were emitting a full, hearty drone and their red-orange glow tinted the dull walls through the glass.

“C’mon, the Extractors are up. You ready?”

“Yessir!” Gallus scuttled along, around the metal railing, to sit down in the chair. He smiled as he placed his arms through the chair’s restraints and looked through the window. “Do all the Discovery Rooms have windows?”

“Rarely.” Titus took his spot at the helm of the controls on the podium. “Damn, I didn’t think they allowed guys this young to start Memory Diving,” Titus thought. A robotic arm down below picked up a skull from a random box and scanned the inside of its cranium. By scanning, the machines could extract a single memory using the microscopic imprints left behind by memories on the cranium wall over the person’s lifetime. After the scan is complete, the machine feeds the data through the arm’s wiring all the way up through the wiring of the helmet attached to the chair. The skeleton is then dumped away through a garbage chute, deemed worthless now that the single memory has been extracted. The helmet swung around, lowered, and fastened onto Gallus’s head. “Remember, you have te–”

“Ten seconds to abort if I see the memory is useless. I got it,” Gallus interrupted. In the first ten seconds of Memory Diving, the memory is only transmitted partially through the Memory Diver’s consciousness, allowing for a halfway state where they can see both what their eyes are actually detecting and the memory foggily.

“Commencing Memory Diving session #111,809,242,735,019. Memory #1: Sample index: 019A-77Y,” Titus read out. The wires leading into the helmet glowed orange and the helmet purred as it vibrated against Gallus’s head. Gallus squinted his eyes.

“Yeah, abort this Dive. There’s nothing special about this memory. Just another one about traffic.”

“Fair enough, we already have millions of memories of that. Not important at all.�� Before Titus could press any more buttons, Gallus blurted out,

“No wait, hold on, this might be interesting aft–” Gallus’s head fell back onto the headrest and his body laid still as the memory’s data was fully injected into his consciousness.

Taylor sat in the backseat of his friend’s Honda as it surged onto the Interstate with his leftover popcorn in his hands. The headlights of the other zooming vehicles pierced through the night, all giving a collective glow. Taylor bopped his head to the music his friend was playing – an electronic song mixed heavily with big-band melodies, thumping bass, and Japanese lyrics. The song’s energy travelled through Taylor’s body and made the ride home from the movie theatre enjoyable. The music was too loud to hear what his friends in the driver’s seat and in the passenger seat were saying, but Taylor didn’t mind; they were laughing and he was elated. As they passed an air force base next to the highway, Taylor looked up at the sky where the pasty textured moon looked like a toasted marshmallow. The moon’s pale-yellow light was overpowered by the air force base’s lighting, but was bright enough to add a painting-like vibe to the scene they traveled through.

Gallus’s eyes opened and he breathed heavily. The helmet swung off and over around the seat’s back.

“You alright?” Titus asked. Gallus nodded. “So, what did you see?”

“I had the perspective of a man in the backseat of a car with blaring music…” Gallus started.

“That’s not that special. People have listened to music in their vehicles for eras.” Titus retorted.

“But the language of the song… it didn’t seem to fit that of which the men were using.”

“What language did they speak in?”

“I couldn’t tell. The music was blaring, like I said,” Gallus replied. Titus scoffed. “But, the man whose perspective I was in had looked out and I saw that license plates on the vehicles were American.”

“What century?”

“Had to have been the late twentieth or early twenty-first. The song’s language seemed to have been from eastern Earth.” Titus tapped his foot against the glass floor, looking down.

“All this information only indicates a cultural transmission between two Earth nations. Not special at all. If anything, it’s important on a macro level, not an individual one. That’s where the meaning of being human lies: in the individual mind.”

“But there is one more thing. This certain human looked a lot at the moon,” Gallus said. Titus looked back up at Gallus in his seat and groaned.

“The moon’s nothing special either. Humans have always looked at it, wolves, dogs have been attracted by it, even plants have. That’s not exclusively human, it’s inclusive to all life.”

“But I had this warm… feeling in my chest rise… when I look– I mean, when the other human looked at the moon.”

“You aren’t supposed to be feeling emotions from the memories. You’re supposed to be identifying them and more importantly, what it means to be human.” Titus placed his hands on the controls and began prepping the next memory. “Anyways, the only human emotions that matter are anger, fear, and courage. Were you not taught that?”

“Of course I was, sir,” Gallus replied.

“No one’s felt any other ‘emotion’ for eons. Are you ready for the next memory?” Gallus nodded. “Memory #2: Sample index: 202I-635V.” The helmet swung back onto Gallus’s head and within seconds he was inside another memory.

#science-fiction #sci-fi #science fiction #scifi

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