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cafeinthemoon · 1 year ago

Text

King - Chapter VIII

Chapter 8

Wordcount 3,8k

Title Worthy

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 🖤

Warnings: Poseidon is not a soft man; he knows how to make a girl cry

Tagging @cloveradora @the-dumber-scaramouche @mikkies @sl33py-zer0 @nooneknows8976 (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: So I really wanted a cool title for this chapter, but nothing better than this one :/

Here's something about the quake that I forgot to explain in the previous chapter's notes: the reason why the girls didn't fall in another place when they witnessed the quake right in their first day at the palace was that Proteus was there. Knowing what happens after the quakes caused by his master, he knows how to guide people through the right path and might have a way to protect them from the effects. Since reader was alone when the second quake happened, there wasn't much she could do to protect herself. The idea for these sudden changes came when I was first building my concept for the Lord of the Seas: in Greek mythology, he was an unstable and irascible man, so it would be only fair that his house fitted his temper. It's not clear if hes aware of this, but it's not hard to suppose that he uses this changes to reach his purposes, combined with his extended vision, about which he will speak in this chapter.

Hope you enjoy it :)

Also a change in the gif because... well, you'll see 😅

Nothing in that path was known to you.

The corridors – all of them shorter than the one where you met – were as blue and plain as the first one, and no doors or windows were present in them as well, making it impossible for you to try and memorize the way. Still, you couldn’t help feeling like you were walking in circles, even though your husband took different directions.

And to think that, if he hasn’t appeared at the right moment, I could be dead by now.

You were absorbed in those thoughts when Poseidon stopped in front of a door and put you down, but kept a hand on your wrist, though you would be a fool if you tried to run and take the risk of getting lost again – sometimes, not knowing what he took you for was irritating. He opened the door and, after making you enter before him, he locked it behind his back. You looked around… And found yourself in a familiar place.

He brought me to his chambers again.

You started wondering if that strange transformation in the environment was deliberated, if finding you was his final goal or if it was just a coincidence. Well, if he wanted to find you, he could’ve just sent a servant to the women’s lodge; where else did he think he could find you? But, at the same time, he didn’t seem the type who always chooses the obvious way. He didn’t use to give many explanations on his actions, but you already noticed that everything he did had a reason.

And, that time, you didn’t need to wait for too long to find it out.

Without a word, he grabbed your wrist and led you to the direction you knew the bathing area was. It was a short way, but you took the opportunity to observe the surroundings, and that’s how you noticed how clean and organized the room was: no clothes on the floor, no scent of perfume or essential oils in the air, no messed sheets upon the bed, which curtains were opened and wrapped, as if waiting for the next night; not even the small table and the bottle of contraceptive was visible beside it.

No signs of your passage were present there.

You turned your face away from the scene and tried not think about it, as you finally crossed the small corridor through which you were taken to the shower, that one where you almost drowned.

Is he going to make me bathe on it again?

Fortunately, that’s not what happened.

As you stopped before the shower, Poseidon took the shawl off your shoulders and told you to take off your shoes. He grabbed everything and put it on a place near, where the water wouldn’t reach, then led you to the bathtub area, returning to the shower and leaving you there by yourself. The air was warm, and the bathtub was already full.

Moments later, he walked after you, without his clothes and ready to enter the bathtub. You looked away when he passed by you, only seeing the moment he touched the water with the corner of your eye. When you looked again, he already had half of his body covered in water, in the same spot where he stood with you yesterday.

You took a moment to notice he was staring at you.

– Go to that shelf and bring something to me – he pointed at the shelf in question.

You went there and he indicated the line and the position of the chosen bottle. It was similar to the ones that contained the healing salts used in your previous bath there, but had an orange, creamy substance inside it, like a lotion.

You barely had the chance to observe the label to confirm its nature.

– Bring it here.

You obeyed, kneeling behind him and giving him the bottle. He opened it and gave it back to you.

– Make yourself useful and use it to massage my shoulders.

The order was clear, yet you took a second to process it: he brought you to his room just for you to do the work of a servant? Well, it was useless to argue: you were already there, and the bottle was opened; you couldn’t let him waiting, risking what was left of his patience after the unpleasing task of eliminating an insubordinate individual.

You took a generous amount of the lotion, spread it on your palms – not missing the chance to enjoy its pleasing texture – and started to work.

Somehow, it felt like you were touching his skin for the first time, for you were under a good light, entirely in control of your senses, not having to stand his glare, something that would certainly make your hands shake and interfere in your performance. With all those issues out of the way, you allowed yourself a bit of relaxation, using that time to observe your husband in a way you still haven’t the chance to do, and with that you noticed a curious detail: despite the warmth of the water, his skin didn’t turn rosy, but kept the uniformity of its pale shade, only changing in the spots where you spread the lotion; besides, he had no marks all over his back, even less on his neck; as you looked for them, your hands followed your eyes, trying to guess if there was at least the reminiscence of a scratch or a scar – but nothing could be found, and that was less impressive than scary.

He’s so fast that it’s impossible to touch him in a fight, and I can’t think of someone who’d be brave enough to get so close if he gave them the chance.

As you brought your hands to his neck, you observed something that counterbalanced this thought: his hair wasn’t entirely blond, as seen from a distance, but it had its roots in a silver shade, which changed to the evident golden. Compared to the thing about his skin, it was trivial, almost ridiculous.

Poseidon’s voice brought you back to reality.

– You are getting distracted – he casually commented – Your hands stopped.

It was true: you realized you were lost in your observations, and immediately got back to work. But that wasn’t the end of his admonition.

– Delicacy is appreciated in massaging sessions, but this is too much. Your touch is lacking strength – he glanced behind – Or are you going to tell me that this is the best you can do with these tiny hands of yours?

If your delicacy was too much for him, his provocations were too much for you. You held back a sigh of impatience, but compensated it by burying your nails on his skin.

Is this better for you?

This only caused him a chuckle.

– Ah, this is better. But do not use your nails.

You bit your lip, but said nothing in response. Apparently, there was a way to satisfy him through your aggressiveness – and that was something you preferred not to discuss. You just decided to keep the rhythm and wait until he told you to stop…

Which didn’t happen without a conversation.

– That place where I found you – Poseidon started – It is not one where your presence should be expected. I suppose you went there by accident. So, tell me, where were you trying to go?

For a second, you felt tempted to discuss the strange phenomenon that brought you to that corridor, but changed your mind and kept your answer simple.

– To the Library.

– The servants use to bring books for you at the lodge – he continued – Aren’t they entertaining enough?

You started massaging the back of his neck, your thumbs drawing circles upon his spine.

– I wasn’t looking for entertainment, my Lord.

– What were you looking for, then?

– Information.

– What kind of information? – he pressed.

– Anything that could be useful… to help me in my task.

A tense silence fell between you. You didn’t need to explain what you meant with task. In the end, Poseidon approved your attitude.

– I would not expect anything different from you – and, suddenly changing the subject, –Speaking of this, I have heard that you went to take your first meal in the company of the other girls today, and that this resulted in fabulous interactions between you. Can you speak about this to me?

You swallowed.

Just as expected, nothing stays hidden from him in this place.

– It was strange to me at first, because I’m not used to be in the company of people from multiple folks – you spoke carefully – But everything was alright in the end. The women received me well, and I had Alyssa with me, so I wouldn’t feel alone.

His response to this was a long “hm”, followed by a subtle movement of his left arm, that was resting upon the bathtub’s border: he slowly raised it from the marble, until his hand reached your cheek, his fingers caressing your skin as it started to heat up. Your hands stopped working again.

– You are always so vague whenever I try to have a proper conversation with you, my dragonet – he chuckled – What are you afraid of? Did you forget who I am to you? Or maybe you do not know how marriage works? If this is the case, let me tell you that a woman is not supposed to keep secrets from her husband.

You didn’t reply immediately. You knew that trying to use your tongue without calming yourself down would mean a problem, so you started working on this: taking a deep breath, you forced your hands to move again, this time more gently, your fingers tracing slow paths through his pale skin, as if taking care to not hurt it, even though it was impossible for you to do it. It was now less like a massage and more like a caress.

– And I suppose that this rule works for her husband as well – you started – Or are things different when a god is involved?

That time, Poseidon turned around to look inside your eyes instead of limiting himself to a glance. Fortunately for you, there wasn’t the slightest sign of irritation in them.

– I have been living for too long, girl. So much more than your human mind can conceive. Even if I tried to unveil my secrets to you, I would have to stop in the beginning, for you would never have the time nor the strength to stand them – a shadow of smile appeared on his lips – And with this I guess you already have your answer.

He still had his hand on your cheek; thinking you wouldn’t have anything more to say, he moved it away and turned his back on you again, to which you understood you had to continue your task. You did it, but that time you somehow started to experiment with it, extending your touch to his ears; you used your thumbs to massage behind them, then softly squeezed his lobes between your fingers, going through their length until you reached their pointy upper side. This provoking a surprising reaction from him: his body relaxed, and from the depths of his throat came a low, guttural sound that prolonged itself as you continued your caresses, ceasing when you moved your hands away from his ears and back to his neck and shoulders.

You frowned.

Did he just... purr?

– Are you trying to seduce me, dragonet? – he whispered – Who gave you such idea?

– I’m not trying anything in this sense, my Lord.

– Hm... You are trying to calm me down, then – he inclined his body backwards, as to make it easy for you to touch him – You want to tell me something, but felt the need to prepare my ears first, isn’t it?

Since he was giving you the chance, you decided to take it.

– I want to ask something, if possible.

– And what is it?

You took a moment before replying. That wasn’t an easy question, neither was its answer – that is, any of the answers you could give it.

And they were many.

Why did you do that to Suriah, and Melian and the others? Why did you do this to me? And Doonah? Why are you so obsessed with having all of us around you? And why the hell you need so many children who won’t live as much as yourself? Do you think it’s funny? What do you take us for? What do you know about justice, or love? Do you even care?

What you asked him, however, was much simpler.

– Poseidon-sama… Why did you marry me?

Silence. You didn’t get an immediate, verbal answer from him, but you sensed the change around you: the warmth of the air was no longer enough to bring you comfort; your hands felt a deep, growing tension in his muscles, and even his breath was inaudible now.

But I just started it, and I need this answer. I can’t stop now.

You forced your hands to keep moving.

– You said it was for your own sake, my Lord… – you continued – And that I would never stand your secrets... But if I am part of this… Then it’s not supposed to be a secret.

Strangely, saying those words put you in a state of peace that you’ve never expected to experience, though you could just be silenced regardless of your honesty and the validity of your inquiring. It calmed your heart and gave you the courage to face whatever your husband was preparing as a response.

And this is what he had for you.

– From time to time, I use to extend my vision to the outsides of my kingdom, to be aware of the changes in the other worlds, and to figure out some things that would escape my messengers’ understanding – you still had your hands upon his shoulders; you sensed a slight movement on them as the story followed – Though my apparitions in Midgard became a rarity, I still include it in my examinations, for you are not like the other folks: you cannot stay for too long without supervision.

You didn’t know if you should be flattered or offended by this: having your kind separated from others by a god’s vision was something unique, but the reasons for this might destroy one’s fantasies about it. On the other hand, you had to admit that humans weren’t the most reliable creatures, and given how they’ve treated the oceans all over their existence, it’d be hard to expect a different attitude from the god who ruled over them.

– It was during an ordinary day of observations that my thoughts stopped at your homeland and discovered the women of your time, and among all of them they fixated themselves in you – he explained – Once it happened, I decided I needed to bring you to my domains. And here you have your answer.

More silence. You waited to see what would happen next, but Poseidon didn’t say anything more than this. You bit your lip.

He desired and took me, and that’s all? He really thinks I’m a fool.

You moved your hands away from his body, laying them on your lap. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by him, but no reaction came from his part.

Your voice was heard, almost a whisper.

– Is this everything?

You closed your mouth and instantly felt like you provoked the sea, for it came to swallow you in the shape of a man who refused to believe you had the nerve to say those words.

The bathtub’s water became choppy and spread with a growing roar when he turned to you, rising out of the tank and soaking your legs and the hem of your dress. At the same time, he leaned his hands on the marble, but kept himself on the tub, in a way that reminded you of a mermaid luring a sailor to death. The fact that you had the Lord of all mermaids in this position, and that, unlike a sailor, you had no experience in the sea, only made things more terrifying.

– Yes, this is everything you need to know, little dragonet – he leaned closer to you as he spoke; his voice was sweet, but his words were pure ice; you glanced down and noticed his right hand moving from the marble and reaching for your thigh – I saw you there, desired you and took you for myself, and I did not need any more reasons for this. There is no secret in it, and I am not sorry for disappointing you in this sense. If humans are always seeking for mysteries where there is none, I am not the one to blame.

You opened your mouth, but closed it again: no words would serve as response for what you just heard. And, well, in reality, nothing passed your lips because your mind stopped working, and your body started acting by itself.

And that’s why you never saw how exactly you did that and why, later, you would find yourself unable to recall it: in one moment, you felt a bubbling inside your stomach, and your entire body started trembling; in the next, all of this stopped, and you saw your left hand raising and moving forward. After this, you only remembered a persistent burning on your palm and your cheeks soaked in tears.

When you raised your eyes to your husband, through your blurry sight you noticed him touching his own face in incredulity, and you swore there was a reddish mark on it. You covered your mouth with your hands.

Is this what I think t is? Did I just… slap him?

Whatever the explanation your mind could give you for the scene, as soon as you saw Poseidon’s hand moving away from his cheek and his glare turning to you, you knew it wouldn’t matter. Yes, no sign of the dark shade appeared in his eyes when you looked into them, but you wouldn’t stay there and wait to see what he would do after experiencing what was probably the worst example of the human audacity in centuries.

You were still kneeling on the floor; you tried to force your body to stand up and move away… but soon you realized you were unable to do it: the water, mixed with soap and lotions, eliminated the friction between your body and the floor, so when you turned to leave, you just manged to slip and fall on your stomach before you could go too far. At the same time, a strong hand made you turn on your back, closing around your leg, and you were pulled back to the bathtub’s edge.

You saw yourself laying on the floor, your dress clinging on your back, your hair floating on the water around your head. Besides, your feet were now passing over the tub’s edge, so that you would never find balance to move and leave your spot. And you had no time to think of anything else, because Poseidon was now leaving the tub and putting himself over you. The air escaped your lungs, and you shut your eyes tight, just waiting for death…

However, it didn’t come.

A hot breath touched your neck, and the voice of your husband reached your ear in a harsh whisper.

– Still, regarding the entire time you stood with me yesterday… – his lips brushed your lobe – You seemed far from disappointed.

You gasped. Your face burned with shame, because deep inside you knew he was right: when you met him, you were impressed, and when he showed himself to you, you admired, desired and accepted him as a man – and you ended up exhausted, but satisfied. That was how you remembered things; that was your truth. And something like this could never stay hidden from the sharp eyes of the god you had before you.

But the hardest part was that Poseidon wouldn’t miss the chance to have fun with it.

– But if you really want one more reason, here you have it – he chuckled; you felt his hand playing with the soaked hem of your dress, lifting it and exposing your thighs – You are a really entertaining creature, human... Keeping you is worthy...

Worthy?

Something stirred inside you at the sound of that word. You gathered courage and opened your eyes, only to find your husband staring back at your embarrassed traits. You looked into them, hoping to find something that explained the use of that word, but Poseidon was clearly better than you in keeping secrets, so the only thing you saw there was desire.

The same desire I perceived when he approached me for the first time.

– Why the surprise, dragonet? – he brought his hand to your face, and his fingers traced a line through your cheek, descending until they found your neck and closed themselves around it – Don’t you find it strange that I still did not eliminate you after everything you have done? That I did not cut off your hand after what you just did? Or did not burn your tongue for the things you said at the dinning room?

You didn’t reply. Still holding your neck, he brought his lips closer to yours.

– I like to keep what is mine intact – he gave you a brief kiss on your mouth – There is no use in breaking you... Especially when I just discovered this strength in your little hands…

It wasn’t hard to guess what was going to happen now.

With his thumb, he separated your lips, and his tongue he found its way into your mouth. It wasn’t too long until he extended his passionate gestures to your chin, your cheeks, your neck and collar, and for his hands to find a chance to free you from your soaking dress. You weren’t left without reaction, though: joining the kiss with a similar enthusiasm, you started to use your hands in him as well, caressing the spot you just slapped, touching the golden strands of his hair falling around his face, and even reaching for his ears, just to see his body’s response during love making.

And it was as intense as you could expect: he didn’t wait a single second to take you to him, tightening you in his arms, pressing your body under his, against the floor.

It’s like watching the sea falling over me.

In the middle of this, your regained your voice. And, as expected, to gather one more reason that would make your husband punish you if he had no regard for your integrity.

– There’s no use in breaking me, my Lord… but you rejoyce in breaking my spirit, right?

You closed your eyes, and the last thing you remembered was his voice making you a question that might have come from his mouth or your own mind.

– Is your spirit this easy to break?

Chapter 9

#snv poseidon #ror poseidon #poseidon x reader #snv poseidon x reader #ror poseidon x reader #snv x reader #ror x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie poseidon #record of ragarok poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie poseidon x reader #record of ragnarok poseidon x reader #poseidon snv #poseidon ror

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fabianvalencia561 · 1 year ago

Text

(This was a bit late ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ )

*It was an unfortunate time... It was time for Rosetta to go.*

Rosetta: ..... I know you don't want me to leave.... But I have to...

Jerry: .... *He sighs heavily* .... I know.... I know...

Rosetta: Alright....*She walks up to him and hugs him tight* Make sure you don't let your anger out of your control.... I know it's hard for you.... But you need to calm down and don't let your mind take advantage of you like that..... You still have Mike to take care of....

Jerry: *he was quiet for a bit and then he sighs* .... I'm trying... I'm going to be trying my best to make sure that I'm calm....

Rosetta: Good ..... Please keep Mike safe... And remember to keep-

Jerry: of course I will keep him safe... *He hugs her tight* and I remember.... Trust me... I learned to take care of Mike.. while you weren't doing your best... And when you were gone....

Rosetta: ........ Yeah...... *She kept on hugging him tightly*

*They talked for a while and then eventually Rosetta faded away and went back to the place she needed to be. Though there was a single blue feather for Jerry to keep.*

Jerry: ..... Goodbye..... Rosetta... *He gently held the feather tightly.*

*Jerry was standing there quietly. Then he started to feel horrible...his body began to hurt a lot.... Jerry started to get very lightheaded and then before he could do anything.... Everything went dark.*

*It felt like Jerry was in the darkness for a few minutes. Jerry began to feel a very painful tightness around his body especially around his neck it felt like he was getting forcefully strangled with a rope. Eyes began to appear just staring at him some seemed very happy to see him suffering this horrible demise.*

Jerry: !!!!- *He tried to scream but it was like he was forced to not talk*

*Jerry kept looking around fast to see the eyes just looking at him as he tried to get the rope off his neck. Then Jerry sees these eyes.... These green eyes that never blinked... They were full of hate and anger.... It wanted Jerry dead and wanted Jerry to suffer.*

Jerry: *His eyes widen as he knew the eyes* .....Father......

*Then everything went quiet. Jerry hits the ground hard as the ropes are taken off of him. He tries to get up but then he hears a voice*

Corrupted Leader: ..... I heard you and Proteus talk .... You don't want to be a corrupted?.... You don't want to be part of this family? You don't care about us....

Jerry: !!!- No no no no no no... Father please I-

Corrupted Leader: YOU HATE US! YOU DON'T LOVE THIS FAMILY!!?!! ....... *Sigh*.... You don't care about me... Anymore....? *He said with a sad voice* .... .... I missed when you were just a little boy.... When I bought you back... You were so kind.... You cared about us..... But now.... I regret even letting you live this long... *He snaps his fingers*

*Hands began to grab Jerry and they hit him to the ground hard and began to tear away his back out his skin, muscle, and tissue slowly and painfully ripping apart from his own body*

Jerry: *He screamed loudly as he cried loudly for help* FATHER!!!! PLEASE DON'T GO! I PROMISE I WON'T MISBEHAVE ANYMORE!! I PROMISE I'LL LISTEN TO YOU PLEASE!!!! *he begged and screamed* FATHER PLEASE!!

*The hands successfully tore Jerry up into two. Jerry cried loudly in pain*

Corrupted Leader: *He walks up to Jerry and looks down at him* ....... Then you better start behaving.... This is a warning..... *He stomped on Jerry's head which caused brain matter to go everywhere.*

Jerry: !!!!- *GASP!!!* ...... *He was shocked..... He was breathing fast*. ..... I.... I-I....

Jerry: *he felt his wrist and neck burning as now there was a red mark.... It was a warning.* .......... I.... *He began to cry* .... I'm sorry..... I'm sorry..... *He was scared... He doesn't want to die.... He doesn't want to leave Mike like that* ..... I'm sorry.....

*For a while Jerry was trying to keep his head calm and then he stands up and tries to call D10...... Nothing....*

Jerry: ..... He's probably still pissed off... That I never told him that I'm corrupted *He thinks to himself* ......

*At Toby's house*

Donald: So how's the little lad?

Toby: Thomas is doing well.... Though we should all keep an eye on him....

Harold: uhm... Remind me why Donald is here again? I'm not trying to be rude of course....

Toby: Donald used to be a doctor... Until he moved away from the mainland....

Harold: oh... Well I didn't know about that... *He clears his throat* ..... So.... Is Oliver here with you or is he just visiting..?

Donald: Aye... He's with me.... Hmm... But you guys should keep an eye on him... Oliver hasn't been feeling good lately....

Harold: .... Yeah... I can tell... Toad is keeping distance from Oliver...

Toby: .... That's.... Weird.... Those two are always seen with each other...

Donald: Hmm... Just make sure you guys keep an eye on him....

Toby: alright we'll also tell D10...

Henry: Wait D10'S here? Why so?

Toby: He was asking us questions.. like if we saw anything weird...

Henry: hmm... He should ask Hiro.. he looks around the second and main Sodor islands all the time.... Which I tell him all the time to not to do that... I worry about Hiro....

*D10 was in Toby's shed trying to fix his own core.*

D10: *he was mumbling to himself* Stupid core... I don't want to faint on everyone.... *He hears something at the shed entrance* !!!!- ....

Oliver: ..... D10?...

D10: Oliver?..... *He was still trying to fix his core*

Oliver: ...... *His eyes widen* .... Uhm.... Do you need help?

D10: *he sighs and nods his head* Yes .... Be careful now.... I don't want to faint...

*Oliver began to help out D10*

D10: ok.... Now.. I need you to hold my core for a bit so I can fix this.....

Oliver: .... Alright... *He said in a quiet voice* .....

*Oliver started to get a horrible thought. He slowly tightens his grip on the core..... He wanted to tighten his grip on the core more and more and more*

D10: *He slowly fixed his core* Alright..... Alright.... Oliver you can let go now.....

Oliver: ........

D10: Oliver?....

Oliver: ............................

D10: .... Oliver...

Oliver: !!!- uh! Huhh....

D10: my core... Can you please give me my core???

Oliver: .... O-oh.... Yeah.... Sorry... *He gives D10'S core back* ....

D10: thanks Oliver... Now... We should get out of this shed...

Oliver: right... Right....

..... :]

#ttte #thomas the tank engine #ttte corrupted au #ttte humanoid #ttte jerry #ttte jackie #ttte d10 #ttte thomas #ttte crovan #ttte oliver #ttte toad #ttte comic #comic #ttte donald #ttte 9

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mochiwrites · 11 months ago

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hello hello hello! I just finished binging amor lunae and amor solis and I thought I'd pop in to do a quick rant about it because I loved every bit of it so much!!

first of all, im a sucker for god aus. as a guy whose childhood was filled with nothing but Percy Jackson Percy Jackson Percy Jackson, god aus are an absolute weak spot for me. I love them so dearly, and yours was incredible.

beyond that though, I specifically LOVE the trope of the sun and the moon falling in love!! ive not actually seen anything where it actually happens (your fic was the first) but ive always been in love with the concept and your execution of it was absolutely stunning. proteus as the moon and solara as the sun worked so perfectly!

oh gosh I had so much more to say but ive lost my train of thought.

I rarely cry when I read or watch things. I don't know what it is, but I struggle with really feeling what the characters feel, and I could count the number of times a piece of media has made me cry on a hand and a half, but I was on the brink of tears practically the entire time I was reading. I don't know what it was particularly, but something about your writing style made it feel like I was transported to that world. I could feel the majesty of the heavens and the aching of both proteus and solara (and medea, im so sorry buddy) and the overwhelming love they had for one another. their willingness to give up everything just to be with one another was suffocating in the best way possible.

a lot of the time with those types of emotions, I find it unrealistic. I find it too overbearing for me to be able to actually immerse myself in them, but something about your writing made it so easy for me to understand. I felt everything they felt. I understood. of course solara would choose death over forgetting proteus. of course mumbo would give up his celestial status to be with grian. it was meant to be. they were meant to be. the stars and moon and sun all aligned in the precise way they did and the universe was created all for them to be able to love one another and it was perfect.

your playlist!! gods, your playlist was perfect. I love it when fic writers have their own playlists for their fits because it makes the experience so much better, and yours did not disappoint!! I put it on shuffle while I read. "From me, the moon" started playing when mumbo met grian for the first time in amor solis and the lyrics paired with the scene made me cry. nothing could've prepared me for how much aching I'd feel while reading it. 1,672 years and 20,064 months and 610,711 days of loss and longing and I felt it and it hurt but everything fell into place for that one moment and it was worth it.

oh gosh I could keep going forever but this got way too long. I just adore this fic with all my heart and my soul and my being. I feel like it's genuinely done something to me. it feels like something's shifted in the way I see the world, and maybe that's a dramatic thing to feel about a piece of writing about some block people falling in love, but I don't care. im in shambles. I dont know if I'll ever be whole again. im grian, having everything I could possibly want, but knowing something's inexplicably out of place. there's something wrong and no way to know what.

im not the biggest fan of scarian (im much more a grumbo guy), but I may just read your scarian stuff purely because it's your work.

thank you for writing. thank you for sharing. you have a gift, and it is beautiful. never stop creating.

hi I’m ??? sobbing at you ??? so loud ???? 🥹💕 this was such a lovely lil treat to wake up uwahhh.

ueueue thank you sm !!!! this was my first ��big” au for this fandom, and seeing the reception of it is so,,, �� it makes me incredibly happy <33

I love the trope of the sun and moon falling in love so much. I think it came from the whole “character who’s the embodiment of the sun is shipped with character who’s the embodiment of the moon” concept, and grumbo fits that Very well.

but I??? 🥹 that’s such a huge compliment I’m so. uwahhh 🥹💕 I’m really glad that my writing made you feel all that <33 it’s always my goal to pull people into the worlds that I create and bring some kind of immersive feeling through my words. so knowing I managed to make you feel all that and it felt realistic is really !!!!!!!

and the playlist !!!! augh !!!! that’s the very first thing that I made for this au. it existed before amor lunae did. fun fact, I put the songs in a vague chronological order, going from when proteus and solara met, to when solara dies. I’ve written most of that au with that playlist going, and omg I could Not imagine reading those fics with the playlist going… you’re the bravest omg.

I love making playlists for my fics though :D every major au that I have has a playlist for it hehe

but 🥹💕 this au definitely holds a very special place in my heart. it’s a work that’s really important and very personal to me. I’m really happy that you enjoyed it <333

though !!!! if you don’t mind a little plug and a recommendation of my other works… I currently have an on going mumscarian au called songbird’s blood. it’s on my ao3 as a series called “night life” if you enjoyed the grumbo in amor lunae and solis, I think you’ll like the grumbo in night life too :D it’s a biiiig fantasy au where mumbo is a vampire and grian is a human who just happens upon his manor. grian is the first human to break through mumbo’s walls and befriend him. they’re very soft <33

thank you for stopping by and leaving this in my inbox 🥹💕 it was really nice to read through and made me really happy. if you read anything else of mine, I hope you enjoy !!! and please feel free to drop by again <33

#mochi speaks #solar eclipse au

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badassxbirdy · 2 years ago

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March Activity Update (Pinned post)

It’s time once again for an activity update! If you’re new here: these (usually) monthly posts help me to keep track of what the frick I’ve been doing, particularly when tumblr breaks or the brainfog strikes. The last few months have been bonkers, so we’ve missed a few. That being the case, this update includes things posted or in drafts for December, January, and February. Everything else can be found in previous monthly updates under this tag.

The full activity update (along with OOC house keeping) is below the cut. Bold text = links.

If you want to see all IC interactions without the other stuff, click here. If you’d like to start something new, there are opens, memes, and the wishlist, or you can just hit up the DM’s. You can also add Ty on Wire for IC texting.

Now onto the update!

OOC Housekeeping:

I have a biiiiig queue posting over the coming week or so. Thank you all for your patience while I got things sorted. ❤️

If you can’t trim our thread, please let me know so that I can fix it. A lot of my access is on mobile, so the extensions get a bit iffy at times.

I’ve lost the login for Ty’s discord. 🤦‍♀️ If you want to reach me, whether that’s IC or OOC, then tumblr DM’s or Ty’s Wire are the best ways.

My todo list for Ty’s blog is absurdly long, but I’m getting started with updating rpthreadtracker. I’m on a mission to get it updated and check in with folks this week!

Lots of OOC madness happening, but the most positive one is this: I’ve moved! 🥳 After 2+ years of trying, I’m out of the HMO bedroom I’ve been in, and into an accessible flat. Still in my beloved city and actually in a bit more of a convenient location.

I’m much better since my hospital stay. Follow up appointments still to come which I’ll no doubt post about on the ooc sideblog, but overall things are moving in the right direction. Thank you for the kind messages during that alarming few days. ❤️

Threads, replies, and other IC interactions:

(In alphabetical order by username)

At the motel (drafted) - @demcnsinmymind

Car trouble (queued) - @demcnsinmymind (and I’ll just be over here crying about Sasha)

Serial killer ghosts (drafted) - @derschwarzeengel

Making their escape (link) - @derschwarzeengel

Starter from @demonstigma (link)

Jeremy/Jonathan meet Hyde!Ty (queued) - @harkcr

Ty is very confused by Wednesday (queued) - @hvbris

Meeting the Captain (link) - @hvbris

FBI!Fish babysits human!Ty (queued) - @imprvdente

Image meme starter for @indyflanery (queued)

Boring bucket list (link) - @innerwar (Lucius)

Monster encounter (queued) - @lcbcshcart

Demon problems (link) - @magaprima

Ty is angy and Proteus is bby (link) - @nightiingaled

“I was just trying to help” (link) - @normallyxstranger (Casey)

Under pressure (link) - @normallyxstranger (Casey)

“Get down!” (link) - @normallyxstranger (Mason)

“Does it still hurt?” (queued) - @normallyxstranger (Mason)

“Are you following me?” (link) @normallyxstranger (Jamie)

Low expectations (link) - @normallyxstranger (Jamie)

How many fingers? (link) - @normallyxstranger (Tabitha)

Banishment gone wrong (link) - @normallyxstranger (Victor)

Lost in the compound (queued) - @razorfst

“Guess I’ll drink my sorrows away.” (link) - @sanguinelupus

Kiara to the rescue! (link) - @thatevester

Meeting Teine (link) - @timelxrd-victorious

Headcanon, dash games, and assorted silliness:

Character arc dash game: romance/friendship arc (link)

They’re a 10 but… (link, link, and link)

Da bby is growing up. 🥹 (link)

“BUT WHAT IF YOU’RE PEEING?” (link) (Okay, I take it back, she isn’t growing up that much.)

Holy water + humidifier (link)

Holy water + candles (link)

Teaching Eli about human things be like: (link)

When main!verse Ty gets to let out some of her darker side: 👍👌👌👍👌👀💖 (link)

Peanut the Racoon! Expect him to be riding shotgun in Ty’s car until further notice. (link)

90’s icon on 90’s icon violence ☠️ (link, link, and link)

Ty’s Christmas mischief, featuring gifts and assorted nonsense. (link)

I think that's everything, but if I've missed something then please do let me know. Stay safe, lovely people!

#activity update #pinned post #badassxqueue

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titusmouser · 30 days ago

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~Snapshot Mind~

-Proteus Paiton(pre mafia) x f!reader-

~Tags: angst, eventual fluff, reverse comfort,

~Synopsis: proteus, your boyfriend, and his photographic memory leads to him having a nightmare about his trauma

~Warnings: panic mention, trauma mention

Your eyes fluttered open quickly, the raw screaming echoing from his throat filling the room, his body jolting and then shaking steadily, like he'd been out in the cold for far too long, his arms still half embracing you as your eyes looked up at his, the violet of his iris's showing as his panicked yell ended, his eyes widened as he jolted awake.

"Proteus?" You murmured, still groggy from the sudden end of your rest, being pulled out of sleep by his alarming yell. Proteus looked down at you, utter pain in his eyes. "Did you have another nightmare...?" You ask softly, followed by a slight nod as his reply.

"Just- Just happy you're safe-..." He choked out. You weren't used to him being so shaken and choked out, so emotional. Usually he was more private, keeping to himself, but tonight seemed a lot different than before. "I-..... I'm fine."

But you also knew the past was hard for him. He never mentioned it, and when you asked he would seem to get even more stressed. And his photographic memory didn't make any exceptions, even when it came to traumatic moments he'd want to forget.

"Well, that's obviously not true, is it, Proteus?" You asked, and he glanced away, trying not to show the vulnerability in his purple eyes. "Just... hold me..." He muttered, trying to hide the tears welling in his eyes. "Of course." You replay, shifting your body off of on top of him, and spooning him from the side in a tight hug.

He turned in your arms, nuzzling into your chest. "Thank you, mi amor..." Proteus murmured against your chest, his brazilian accent showing in his voice, his shallow breath calming as your fingers raked through his hair.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" You ask softly, looking down at him in your arms. He slightly shakes his head no, as you always expect. "Just know you can tell me..." You whisper. "I won't judge..."

He looked up at you, purple eyes piercing through the absence of light in the room. "...you're great..." He buried his face back in your shoulder, crying quietly as you soothed him. "It's just... I wish I could-" His voice was interrupted by a sob. "...just forget it all... but my head won't let me..." He muttered. "...Thank you for dealing with- sob- my bullshit..."

"Anything for you..." You whisper.

Once he's done crying, he looks up at you, eyes red and puffy from tears. You continue to hold him close, letting him know everything's alright, whispering sweet nothings in his ear as your hands rake through his hair. Nights like these, you wish you could just help in how he felt. Change how his brain worked and stop that photographic memory from reminding him of all that pain. Every day.

After a while, once he had calmed, you smirk slightly, ruffling his long locks. "So cute like this..." You teasing. "Oh shush..." He retorts playfully. "But really... thanks for being here... you really are just so sweet, mi chica..." He smiled softly.

"Stooooooop...." You wine, and he smirks, teasing words escaping his lips again.

"What? I'm just speaking the truth."

#oc #original character #fanfic #oc fanfiction #oc fandom #this man is so fine #Proteus Paiton #fantasy #dnd oc #dnd #dnd character

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luxmaeastra · 1 year ago

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Sebastian rose an eyebrow at Natalia watching Vale walk away. She ignored him, finishing her audit of supplies.

"Is there something you need Sebastian? You're in my light."

"I never pegged you for someone who was boring Natalia."

He slowly smiled, happy to see he had her entire attention now. Even if she was glaring at him, he understood that. Everything else...those thoughts are night that plagued him? He rather this than them. It's not like and Natalia would ever be anything more thorns in each other's sides. He has no interest in going back to the childhood versions of them, as far as he was concerned those versions of them had died with their parents.

"You going to elaborate or just stare at me like a fool?"

He shrugged tossing the apple he'd been eating into the fire. He liked the hiss it made when it hit the fire. Maybe Andulvar was right and he had a unhealthy obsession with fire...but then his magic was connected to lighting and storms...did anyone think anything different?

"I have nothing else to add. I just thought you had better taste. Is he as stiff in bed as he is everywhere else?"

He laughed, jumping when she tried to cut him.

--------

He grinned at Vale, teeth shining. He could hear Andulvar's quiet snicker next to him. Proteus and Devlon weren't hiding their grins though.

"You heard me Vale. Did she come crying -"

Sebastian gracefully unfolded himself from where he's been sitting on the ground. The sword pointing at his neck didn't give him pause. They couldn't do shit without him, Vale wouldn't dare kill him and risk Neculai's wrath.

"I thought she was exaggerating but you really do act like a mangy dog don't you -"

"Are you flirting? Are you going to disciple me Vale? Should I get a leash?"

His grin widened with the laughter behind him. Vale may be had the noble backing, but the soldiers? The grunts knew him, they followed him. And he wouldn't let some stuffy noble push him around. Especially when deep down Vale exemplified everything about his old life that he'd hated. He thank the Wyrd his parents had never forced him into a box. Maybe whenever he had children he'd continue the trend. If -

//well we have more drama and lore 👀. Seb says he wasn't nice when Lilia appeared in the picture either. He was the one to find her, and scare her so lol he says he left her for dead till Vale saved her 👀//

Sometimes she really wanted to drive one of her tools through Sebastian's thick skull, the golden boy who had to poke at anything that was not to his liking. Someone he didn't like, or they don't something he didn't like.

The insinuation he was making made her blood boil, the fact that she would even. She had been walking across the area when she heard the sound, her attention drawn to the scene that was unfolding between Sebastian and his cronies. That was how they acted, his little attack dogs backing him up.

She sighed. There was a hesitation in whether she should help him, a pause if she should step in. But ruining Sebastian's day made her's better. When he was busy gloating and prodding Vale, she picked up a stick and moved quickly their way. It didn't take much for her to quicken her movement, move past the others and smack his legs out from under him.

"Are you done being a dick? Or mind exactly who I am?" Especially after the dickish comment he made to her. He was lucky she hadn't shared wit ith others, not that his little soldiers would care. They all flocked together, they thought it was amazing.

#Muse | Natalia

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lilyharvord · 4 years ago

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Song of the Phoenix Part 7

WHoa, it’s been a haut minute since I updated this fic. But now it’s gonna be fun. We meet some new characters and they are very important.

Find Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6

tag list: @evangelineartemiasamos @mareshmallow @redqueenetwork @farleydiana @whatsup-gorls @scxrletguardsdawn @freaky-freiday

(/Coriane/) I don’t remember falling asleep, nor do I remember them stopping and switching out the person guarding us. My head bumps the back of the truck as we stop though and I snap awake, thinking everything must have been a dream that I’m going to wake up from and laugh at how silly the whole thing was.

My heart beats erratically as I take in the darkness in the back of the truck. Mare is unnaturally still next to me. Braving the silent stone, I reach through the net to touch her shoulder. “Mare?” I whisper to her, but she doesn’t move. Her eyes are open though, and I can see the whites of them in the darkness. Whatever has happened to her though, she is not recovering from it.

“Mare?” I whisper her name again, panic rising into my tone. Outside of the truck I can hear people approaching the back. She doesn’t move, doesn’t even seem to breathe. The man in the back of the truck with us watches carefully. He scans the way Mare lies still as death, and how I frantically try to wake her. She’s the physical weak link, but I’m something far worse.

“Please,” I choke to her when that thought passes through my head. I don’t know how much good it will do though. If she didn’t respond to me before, pleading with her won’t change anything.

Four people with lanterns appear. In the weak light cast by one of them, I can see that two of them are huge men, and two of them are women. They look us over for a few minutes, and the silence stretches until I wasn’t to scream. One of the women huffs though and says, “I thought you said they were important?��

“The one in the net is, you idiot. That one’s Mare Barrow.”

“I don’t recall her being important.”

“You know! Mare Barrow, The Little Lightning Girl, the girl that brought down the King of Norta.” He says it and spits to the side, as if the words are poison in his mouth.

My stomach flips in surprise, and I tense before slowly drawing my hand away from Mare. The woman who had asked the initial question looks me over before stepping into the truck and holding the lantern up to my face. She has a thick scar that drags from her temple down to the middle of her cheek. I dont want to know how or where she got it.

I shy away from her as she edges closer and sneers. “This one looks pathetic.”

Something in me shrieks in protest, but I do the thing I’ve always been good at, and drop my eyes in shame. She snickers at my reaction and says, “Bring them out then. He’ll take a look at them and tell us what to do.”

Scar face grabs my arm and drags me toward the end of the truck bed. I tug against her hold, and try to fumble over the right words to say to her. She laughs at my attempts and tosses me out on to the ground. I catch myself on my hands and knees, and scratch up my palms on dry grasses. She drops with catlike grace to land behind me, her hand latching onto the collar of my shirt. I glare at her over my shoulder and say, “You won’t get—”

“Don’t try to tell me that, we’ve got you hundreds of miles away from Ascendant. Your best bet sweet thing, is to keep your mouth shut.” She says with a rapier sharp grin before grabbing my arm as well and dragging me to my feet. I feel like a small animal being manhandled.

A thud behind me make me turn around though. The two men sneer down at Mare in the net before smirking at each other and dragging her like a fresh catch behind them.

“Don’t let them hurt her, she’s injured already, please.” I plead, but the woman simply huffs at my words and tugs me back around to get me moving again. I try to protest her hold but she grips my arm so tight it feels like the bone is going to break. Strongarm, I realize, when I see the veins sticking out in her forearm. Her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows in the heat, but she walks like it doesn’t bother her. My mouth feels like its had cotton shoved in it, and already i beads of sweat run down my back.

In the darkness in front of me, I see a set of fires. As we approach them, the tops of massive tents come into focus. The shadows dance on the edge of them, and my stomach rebels as I remember the stories Jessabel used to tell us about slavers who took women that wandered the streets at night and turned them into meat or something worse. I bucked immediately at the thought. Scar sneers and spits, “Come on, you’re worse than a spooked deer.”

She drags me into the middle of the encampment, and people peel out of their tents, looking at us in surprise. I spot dirty children clutching their mother’s legs, and young men trying to stand to the front and look tough. A village, this was a village of sorts. That eases my panic a bit. At least I’m not about to be pit on a spit and roasted for tomorrow’s lunch.

My attention is immediately grabbed by what is in front of me. In the center of the camp is a massive gold and red tent. There are two guards stationed outside of the entrance and they immediately dive inside as we approach.

Scar face pauses in front of it before kicking the back of my knees to bring me to a kneel. She grabs my wrists and binds them with a worn piece of leather before pulling the knot so tight my skin barks in protest. Pinching my face against the pain, I watch her disappear into the tent as well.

Mare is dropped next to me and the men continue to stand behind her like she might try to get up. Her eyes are open though, and they finally seem to be in the present because she looks around sluggishly.

“Mare,” I hiss her name, testing my bonds weakly. One of the men kicks my side, hissing, “Quiet!” 

“Forin, let’s not kick our guests.”

I turn my eyes in the direction of the new speaker. He steps out from inside the tent with Scar Face. He’s young, goodness he can’t be older than Cal. In the firelight, his copper hair and grey eyes cut an imposing figure. He’s dressed like the rest of the soldiers in what could be a ragged uniform. Even in that uniform though, I can tell he is some form of nobility. The way he stands, the way his eyes slowly drag over me scream court trained. Perhaps I can get through to him, make him understand that everything is a mistake and he should release us.

He steps toward me, the fire light bringing his handsome features into focus. His eyes never leave mine as he asks, “Reece tells me that you’re a whisperer, is this true?”

I purse my lips, and swallow my answers, deciding that I want to be stubborn. Forin, one of the men that dragged Mare, hisses and grabs me by my hair so tightly it makes me shriek in pain. “He asked you a question!”

The new comer does not step to my defense again, instead he watches me with narrowed eyes. My own water as Forin digs his fingers deeper into my scalp until I whimper. “No! I’m a singer!”

“A singer?” He asks in disbelief, and I nod weakly, even though that causes more pain to explode across my scalp. I crane my neck to try and relieve some of the pressure on my head before choking, “Yes, I can… I can only make you do what I want if I sing and make eye contact.”

“There aren’t many singers in the country Sire, the only one that I know of is the one in Ascendant. The one Kels told us about.” Scar face speaks from behind him, her massive arms crossing across her chest. He nods in response and that spark of familiar information makes me cry, “My brother! That’s my brother!”

Scar face laughs at my outburst, her eyes glinting wickedly in the dim light. “Please, your lies are pathetic.”

“His name is Julian, he’s my brother!” I argue, only for my words to be cut off as Forin squeezes my hair again.

“Enough of your lies, you little snake.” His grip tightens to the point that I release a strangled cry of pain. Next to me, Mare groans and the other guard launches himself on top of her, pressing her face into the ground. She can barely move, and they think she can fight them all off? How powerful do they think she is?

The man holds his hand up in a silent order. Forin grumbles, his grip loosening until he drops my head. I let myself fall forward until my forehead is resting in the dirt, while I sob softly. I was as useless as a rock. Actually, I was more useless than that, you could at least throw a rock and hurt someone. I was more like a petal. Maybe not ever that, because petals could be poisonous. Elara had always been right about me. I was weak, pathetic, and useless.

The dirt near me crunches and slowly someone crouches down. I shy away from their touch, wanting to just curl up in a ball and disappear into the darkness again.

“Get her inside, take the other one to the shed and lock her in there. Keep the net on her. We can’t have any accidents.”

“Sire!” Forin cries, but the silence that follows his exclamation tells me that there will be no argument. Strong hands grab my arms and yank me to my feet before dragging me forward toward the tent. I flip my head around and watch as two new soldiers grab Mare and drag her in the opposite direction. “Wait,” I choke, as I try to pull away and go after her. Where are they taking her? Where is the Shed? Are they going to torture her?

I’m forced forward and through my tears, I can see the young man pulling the tent flap of the massive tend aside and disappearing inside ahead of us. I takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the brighter interior, and I squint as I look over my surroundings. The interior seems to so out of place with where we are. Beautiful mahogany furniture decotates the space, with books and maps stacked on every available space. In the face corner, almost hidden behind everything is a small cot with a gas lamp on a crate.

The guards leave me standing and take hesitant steps back on a silent order I assume comes from the young man standing before us. A second later though, he whispers, “leave us.”

There is a soft hiss from Scar Face, but she follows the order nonetheless. I quiver as she passes by me, her grumbles clearly audible under her breath. The tent flap slides into place and we’re left in silence. The only thing I can hear is the soft drumming of fingers on a desk. I keep my eyes on my bound hands though, terrified of looking up.

“What is your name?”

I tense and shake my head in response to the question. The drumming stops, and I hold my breath until it continues again. We remain in silence, until his voice fills it. He’s still carefully guarded, but softer when he speaks. “I will give you mine then. We’re cut from the same cloth and you deserve my name at least.”

I bring my eyes up, just enough to look at him through my lashes. He’s standing behind a massive mahogany desk, littered with papers, books, and a few almost nonexistent candles that are lit. Julian would be disgusted at the candle wax that has leaked onto the covers of the faded volumes.

He comes from behind the desk slowly, and I take a step back in fear, but he pauses at the front of the desk and leans against it. With a slight dip of his head, he says, “My name is Proteus Valazt, and I am the king of the Raiders.”

That draws my eyes and a slight incline of my head. He nods with me and then says, “Yours now, it’s only fitting. I’m sure you’re not versed in the court etiquette—“

“My name is Coriane Jacos, and I …” I trail off, hesitant to say my title, wondering if it would make things worse for me if I told him. He raises a brow expectantly, and I drop my eyes and head again. “It doesn’t matter what I was.”

He shrugs, as if the information truly doesn’t matter. He turns to one of the candles behind him and says, “Do you understand that you are our hostage?” 

“I understand that in war there are certain rules to hostages. You are not harm them for one.”

He chuckles darkly and raises his eyes to me with a smile that the shadows play in. “We’re not at war with Montfort. They are at war with us.”

Narrowing my eyes in confusion, I watch the rapid, mercurial change to his features. I’ve told lies, I know what they look like on people’s faces. I’d schooled my face to hide the unhappiness underneath my skin for years. I know all the tells.   If he realized that he’s given me knowledge about himself, he doesn’t show it, instead he gracefully makes his way back behind the desk and sinks into the chair. He watches me carefully until I say softly, “You don’t believe that.”

His expression changes immediately from confident, to surprised, to composed. He’s young and hasn’t completely learned how to control those changes in his expression. I blink at him and he leans back in his chair, and brings his fist up to support his chin. It takes a moment for him to realized that I am more than just another silver, I have been in a court somewhere, and I know the games, at least some of them.

“Who are you?” He asks carefully again. I shake my head and drop my eyes.

“Forgive me, I’ve overstepped,” I try to back pedal, my fear that he’ll figure out the truth coming through. He narrows his eyes and says, “You’ve served in a court, I want to know which one.”

There was no harm in leaving him with a little information, not enough to gain the truth though. “I lived in the Nortian court for a while.” I give the piece willingly, and his eyes narrow even further.

“My father helped a princess from the Lakelander court a few years ago. She came bringing words of peace, and a promise that the King of Norta was going to help us conquer Montfort. Here we are years later though, missing a king, and lacking support.”

“I’m not that support.” I murmur, and he laughs with a shake of his head at my response.

“I don’t need to see to know that.”

He rises from his chair, settling into his new position in the conversation. I move away from him as he walks passed me and digs through the drawers for something behind me. When he returns, it’s with a knife. I pull back in horror, but he grabs my wrists and holds me in place. He’s considerably taller than me, and has no problem manhandling me.

“No, wait, please—“ I cry, closing my eyes and tensing until I feel the metal between my wrists and hear the near silent snip of the knife cutting through leather. I crack open my eyes and watch him slowly saw at the bonds on my wrists. He works in silence, the callouses on his fingers rubbing against my skin as he does so.

The leather falls away and I pull my wrists to my chest, rubbing at them softly, trying to sooth the skin. He slips the knife into the holster on his belt, and watches me carefully back away into a corner of the tent, trying to put distance between us. He sits on the edge of the desk again in response, staring at me before saying, “If we succeeded in our effort to over throw Montfort, I would need to know how to function on the political stage. So, my father made me memorize all the kings and queens growing up. There was a singer queen in Norta.”

My stomach plummets to my knees and I swallow past the sandpaper feeling in my throat. I can’t speak though. Not as he crosses his arms comfortably and says, “Coriane Jacos, the Singer Queen, that’s what they called her. The rumor was that she whispered honey in the prince’s ear and he married her within the week.”

I want to argue in my defense, but I simply press deeper into the shadows, trying to hide. He won’t let me though, his words light fireworks, igniting my past and showing exactly who I am.

“She gave birth to a son, Tiberias Calore the Seventh. She died a year later, and a Whisper Queen took the throne in her place.”

“Please—“

“So who are you Coriane Jacos? A queen, a singer, or a corpse?”

My skin crawls at the last word and I whisper, “Nothing, I am nothing.”

“No one is nothing,” he reasons, and looks down at his boots, his lip curling for a moment in distaste. I wish more than anything that I were a Haven, so that I could blend into the shadows and disappear forever.

“You’re one of the Living Dead, aren’t you?” He asks the next part softly. My reaction brings a smile to his features, and he says, “Yes, we have them too. They’re growing in number, rising as fast as they die. In fact… my scouts were reporting a change in the weather as you were being brought here. The men I lost in the battle might just walk into this camp tomorrow morning.”

I wheeze for breath, remembering Mare’s words from earlier. They shouldn’t have this many men, their numbers were too great.

“Do you know why it’s happening?” I whisper breathlessly, and his eyes widen in surprise, before he shakes his head infinitesimally.

“Do you?”

I shake my head in reply, stepping out of the corner just slightly. His lips draw into a tight line, as he replies, “It’s not stopping anytime soon though.”

I hesitant to take another step forward, drawn in by the conversation, and say, “Montfort might know something. The Premier… she might know something.”

He sneers at the mention of Rori, but his next comment is cut off by Scar face returning, almost out of breath. She looks between the two of us, and then spots the leather strap on the floor. Her eyes narrow a fraction of an inch before she looks up and says, “It’s Harv, he’s almost left us.”

Proteus is up in seconds and starts for the exit to the tent. He freezes before turning to look at me, as if he just remembered I was there. I try to press myself back into the shadows, but I have a feeling I will never be able to hide from him. “Grab her, Doria. She cant stay here.”

Doria crosses the space to me, and I try to put up a fight, but she wrestles me into movement. I don’t dare drag my feet, not now that Proteus has cut my bonds. That was a quiet blessing, and I want to think that it’s a promise of some sort. I’m not sure of what yet though.

I’m dragged through the camp, which seems to have resumed some resemblance of nighttime activity. The children run around the camp fires, shouting and making up games as they go. Elders hush them, and other younger members chatter. But they all bow their heads when Proteus walks by. A hush seems to follow him too. I remember that hush, it makes my skin crawl now, just like it used to when I walked next to Tibe through the crowds.

He pushes a tent flap aside, which has a massive swath of red paint across the front of it. Doria pushes me inside, and I struggle against her grip, and then against the bile that rises in my throat at the stench. I gag, and choke for a second, while my eyes adjust to the limited light. Next to my feet a woman groans, her body covered in white boils that ooze. I back up into Doria’s chest, trying to put distance between myself and the woman on the ground. Another one to my right groans though, a child from the looks of it, who face is covered in so many of the boils that it doesn’t even look human anymore.

Doria pushes me to the back, and the further we go, the worse it gets. There are no sounds back here, the people here are the ones closest to death. Here are the people praying for it to end.

Proteus pauses above a young man and slowly drops to his knees, his facade cracking as he does so. I can barely hear the wheeze of the man’s breaths. His eyelids are swollen shut with the boils, and his body shakes with every exhale. Proteus reaches a hand out only for a nurse to hurry over and whisper, “Your Majesty, I’m sorry, but you can’t--”

His hand hovers over the man’s skin for a moment and he whispers, “Harv, can you hear me?”

The man doesn’t move, and the nurse bends down to whisper something in Proteus’s ear, her voice gentle. She’s not a healer though, or else the people in here would not be this sick. Surely they have a healer though?

One of the boils pops when Harv opens his mouth and a yellow pus oozes out. I gag and turn to rush from the tent. Doria lets me go, her fingers trailing on my arm. I barely make it out of the tent before I’m sick. A few people look up from nearby, and pull their children away. I lean against one of the poles, trying to catch my breath. I’d never seen anything like that. Not even in the worst of the red villages. Then again, I’d never gone that deep into them. Mare might know more, she said she grew up in the Stilts. It was the poorest, I knew that much.

A while after I finish vomiting, Doria and Proteus emerge from the tent. I look up, and Proteus glances down at me in surprise, as if he was shocked I was even still standing there. Then his eyes harden and he orders, “Take her to one of the tents, have them burn her clothes, and wash her. I won’t let one of my hostages die.” 

Doria nods and grabs my arm before dragging me away and toward another one of the tents at the edge of the encampment. A few women sitting outside of it stroking a small fire look up when she approaches with me. They rise as one, and look me over before pulling the tent flap aside. I can’t even bring myself to protest as they drag me inside. (////)

Hours later, after I’ve been scrubbed raw and doused in oils and soaps until I smell like a perfume parlor, the tent flap shifts. The ladies brushing my hair pull back in surprise and bow their heads deeply. I glance up in the shockingly clean mirror to see Proteus standing behind me.

“Out, all of you.” He orders, but he almost doesn’t need to. The minute the first word leaves his mouth, they are rushing to leave, whispering like birds as they flee. I straighten my shoulders as he approaches me from behind, internally I tremble. I have no idea what his ability is. He’s too lean to be a strong am, but that wouldn’t stop him from being anything else. Tightening my hands into fists on the thin fabric of the robe they gave me, I demand, “What was that?”

He sinks into one of the chairs in this tent, his eyes closing almost instantly. “We don’t have a name for it.”

Information, no bonds, and he sits in my presence like this? I truly am next to nothing in where threats are concerned. I didn’t feel like a hostage though. What was his end game?

“Where are your healers?”

“Died first.” He exhales before tilting his head down and opening his eyes again. My mouth goes dry at the words. I must pale considerably, because when he continues, it’s softly, “It’s not airborne, that’s all we know. It’s spread through contact. But we can never be too careful.” That explains the loss of the healers. They would have had to touch the people they were healing.

He looks bone tired in that position, and so very young. I remember Cal telling me that he was king for a day, and that it had been miserable. I wonder if this is what he had looked like during that day.

“What are you going to do with me and Mare?”

His lips twist in distaste. “I don’t know.”

“What would you trade us for?” I ask softly as I turn on the stool to face him. His eyes glint before he smiles ruefully and says, “An end to Montfort. They forced my people out, sent us into these hideous plains to try and eke out a living. All because we refused to bow to their will.”

“Their will is good. The people are free, there is no hatred and…”

“You didn’t look hard enough. There is hatred. It’s there, but it’s rooted deeply and hidden carefully.”

My lips draw into a tight line. It’s a poor excuse, and a poor argument. He probably has never even seen Montfort. If his father, and his father before him had been forced out. His hatred is breed in him. He probably doesn’t even truly believe in fighting this little campaign. “They could help you,” I whisper, “they could send healers… people to help.”

“Their healers would die just like ours did.”

“Not the ones like Mare… the Ardents. They’re stronger than silvers.”

He raises a brow at my words as I stand slowly and take a hesitant step toward him. “Trade us for healers, for medicine, and food, and water. Trade us to save your people, not chasing an ideal.” I have no idea if this will work, if he will listen to me. I’ve seen a glimmer of the truth beneath his façade though. He does not want this lofty goal that he claims to serve. He wants something else. I don’t need to be a whisper to see that.

He raises a brow at me, his expression searching for ground before he says softly, “I can see why your people loved you Coriane Jacos.”

I reel in surprise. My people had never loved me. They had feared me, and they had feared my ability. Even then, they never saw me. I had been Queen, but I had been a shadow. I barely made appearances. I wish I had though. I wish I had been stronger. That I could have found it in myself to be happy. Maybe I could have been there for Cal, maybe Elara would have never dug her claws into Tibe. I could have had strength and power. I just wasn’t strong enough to pretend.

I crouch down slowly and reach for his hand. He starts when I take it gently and whisper, “You have the chance to save your people. Trade us for what you need to save them.”

For a moment, I think he actually contemplates my words. His lips draw into a tight line a heartbeat later though, while his brows draw together. Yanking his hand from mine and rising from the chair, he growls, “You couldn’t possibly understand what has happened. My father lost his life fighting for our people to live once more. I will not be the one to let him die in vain.”

He storms out of the tent, leaving me dumbfound. Rising quickly from the dirt though, I rush for the entrance after him. When I reach it, Doria steps inside. She catches me, and pushing me backwards so that I have to catch myself on the vanity.

“Running away little song bird?”

I have no response. She chuckles at my silence, and takes Proteus’ place in the chair. Pulling out a knife to pick at her nails and cuticles, she says, “Proteus is too kind to you just because you’re silver. He should lock you up in that shed with the Red devil.”

The mention of Mare brings my head around so I can glare at her. “Where is she? What have you done to her?”

Smirking at my words, Doria looks up from her nails to say, “Nothing she didn’t deserve.”

My blood runs cold as I try to advance on her, stuttering over my threats. Before I can truly reach her though, she leaps to her feet and grabs my wrists. I yelp as she squeezes tight enough that my bones feel like they will shatter. She practically presses her nose to mine as she hisses, “Try to bewitch my king with your little songs, and I will find a hole in these plains and bury you so deep you won’t be able to dig yourself out when you return.”

She throws me backwards onto the mess of blankets that make up the bed. I scramble to right myself, and watch as she sinks back into the chair. She goes back to picking at her nails, and even though her eyes aren’t on me, I know that she is aware of my every move. If she stays here tonight, I doubt I’ll get any sleep, which leaves me with plenty of time to start planning an escape.

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thgfanficinspo · 4 years ago

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Fear of the Water - 19

(protective) fluff, healthy dose of angst

FULL STORY - Jonsa - Coryo

(ANNIE)

My eyes open when I feel myself being lifted out of bed. My muscles are stiff and my eyes are sore. Someone has their arms around me and I start to writhe and I beat my fists against the body that holds me and they’re trying to hurt me, I know they’re going to hurt me –

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, it’s me! Annie!” I know his voice. He holds my wrists in his big hands as gently as he can to keep me from hitting him. “It’s okay, it’s just me.”

My eyes finally focus on the face before me. Finnick. His pillowy lips and his bright eyes. Cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. I stop being scared for a moment because you can’t be scared looking at Finnick. Can’t be anything when you’re looking at him cause he’s everything.

He bends down a bit so he’s at eye-level with me. “It’s just me. Nobody else. All right?” He’s so tall. So handsome. “It’s just me. It’s Finnick.”

I manage to nod.

He lets go of my wrists, a guilty look on his face. “I’m sorry to wake you. We’re going home.”

Home. I try to repeat the word, but it clings to the inside of my mouth and instead comes out as an exhausted groan. I try to tighten my grip on Finnick but my fingers won’t listen to what I tell them.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I wanted to wait until the stuff they gave you wore off, but we have to be on the train before dawn if we want to avoid the cameras. Your team’s gonna get you changed and then–”

Beest and my prep team appear behind him and usher him out of the room before I can protest. My limbs are still heavy and slow, so they help me change my clothes. A long, plain skirt and a huge sweater with ribbon woven in. It has a wide cowl neck and the sleeves end at my elbows.

I start shouting and trying to push them away from me when they start to scrub my face cause there are too many of them and I don’t want to be touched and I don’t like how it feels but the morphling makes my limbs too heavy to move. Help.

The door busts open. Finnick. Finnick. “Hey!” He comes straight over to me, pushing the others out of his way like swatting flies. “Annie? Hey, hey, hey, you’re all right.”

Mags is beside him now, face creased with worry.

I’m shaky and sleepy. I want to go home now. Can we go home? Back to my nice safe bed, and I can pull the covers up over my head and be by myself and nobody will bother me because nobody can find me there. Yes. Let’s go home.

“Can you stand?” Finnick asks. Try to but my knees give out right away. Finnick manages to catch me before I hit the ground.

“Pick her up,” Mags says. “We’ll carry her to the train.”

Finnick looks at me nervously. “Can I?”

I lift my heavy arms in silent reply. He sweeps me up without ceremony and starts walking. He might as well be holding a glass of water for all the effort it takes him. I’m too fuzzy to get butterflies from the close proximity even though I think I should.

He smells nice.

I nearly start crying when he sets me down on one of the couches in the last car of the train. The ceiling and walls are all glass so I can see the whole world moving past. I’m tired and scared and the only time I feel safe is when he’s there. Thankfully, he doesn’t go far, just to the couch across from mine.

We’ve gone through the security field now; all the big defense guns are behind us and beyond them the elaborate Capitol buildings. Bye-bye. Won’t miss you.

“Can I brush your hair?” Mags asks. “My grandmother used to brush my hair before bed. It always made me feel better.”

Trees start going by now, faster and faster with every second. How many seconds until I see the lake with those big metal lookouts on top? Until I see the Harrington?

Mags’s voice again. “Annie?”

And what about the ocean? Are the waves still capped white, still strong and beautiful? Or have the just become like the water in the arena?

“Annie?”

Finnick’s voice pulls me back to reality. He’s still sitting on the couch across from me. He leans forward deeply and I lean in, too, cause maybe he wants to tell me a secret. Mags is standing beside him with a brush in hand. She repeats her question and I shake my head because I don’t want anyone to touch me because it’s not safe and I don’t want anyone to touch me.

Mags just smiles. “Are you hungry? I can ask one of the Avoxes to bring peaches. You seem to like those.”

I nod my head. Finnick leaves the room for a moment to talk to someone and comes back in with an armful of the yellowy fruit. He dumps out his harvest on the couch beside me. He hands one fruit to me and another to Mags before selecting his own. He goes back to his couch across the room and plops down, taking a large bite as he does. The juice runs down his chin.

“Thank you, dear,” says Mags.

Finnick smiles in reply.

Mags would’ve been a great mother, but her only baby was stillborn. To this day, no one knows who the father was; she’d never say. The timing of its birth made some people think that the baby was conceived in the Capitol. That doesn’t really matter. She practically raised Finnick, though, and she’s a sort of mother figure to all the victors.

“There won’t be any cameras,” Finnick says to me. His voice is soft, but it’s enough to bring me out of my trance. “No crowds, either. They only told your closest relatives what time we’re coming in.”

Closest relatives.

Bosun.

I burst out into tears just at the thought of his face. His green eyes and his floppy strawberry blond hair. I don’t know if the crying is happy or sad. I’m not sure if I even missed him or not. I’ve hated him hated him hated him so much in the last few years but I loved him a lot before Daddy died. But he did die, and then Bosun was cruel. He never laid a hand on me, but the things he would say to me hurt even worse but I can never explain it right so no one understands and he’s never like that when other people are around so nobody knows.

I don’t think I want to see him. I don’t think I want to see anyone. I don’t know anybody anymore.

The tears drain what little energy I have left and I soon fall asleep against the cushions.

I drift in and out of twilight sleep, half aware of my surroundings. People are speaking in soft voices; I hear the whole conversation but I don’t understand a single word of what they say. That would require me to concentrate and I can’t do that.

My body gets heavy and heavier but my mind is light and light and the conversation goes away.

I am a bird. I am flying high above the ground, keeping pace with the big train tearing through the woods. We are racing – the train and the pretty bird and what a pretty bird am I.

No. I don’t like the bird song anymore. I don’t want to sing it.

I make a whining noise without meaning to and Mags strokes my hair. “Shh. Go back to sleep.”

But I can’t. Not until I know if Finnick’s here. He should be here. If he’s here then I’m okay because he’s here so I’m okay because he’s here.

I crack my eyes open. He’s slumped in the couch across from mine, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted back at a sharp angle, and mouth open. He’s sleeping, too. And snoring. And drooling.

I can’t help but smile to myself. Finnick Odair, the national standard for beauty, the most popular victor ever crowned, Panem’s favorite son, our district’s finest, the golden boy, is drooling in his sleep. He stirs when he hears me laugh. He straightens up, rubbing the soreness from back of his neck. He uses his free hand to wipe the drool from his face.

I shut my eyes just as he looks at me. I hope he didn’t see.

(FINNICK)

There is only one person waiting at the train station – not including the four Peacekeepers, led by a man we call Shark Teeth because of his big, toothy smile. A boy. Must be around Annie’s age. His hair is a light strawberry color, very different from Annie’s reddish brown. They share the same big, bright eyes. This must be her brother.

“Annie!” he gasps when he catches sight of her.

Annie freezes in place.

He rushes forward with his arms open to embrace her. She squeaks something that I can’t quite make out and jumps behind me to use me as a shield from whatever attack she fears is coming like she did before her final interview.

Bosun’s arms slowly fall back to his sides. Shark Teeth has the decency to pretend he’s doing something else but two of the other Peacekeepers just stare.

There’s a long awkward moment of silence before Proteus steps forward and introduces himself. “Proteus,” he says, shaking Bosun’s hand. “It looks like we’ll be neighbors, assuming you and Annie live together.”

Eefa and Broadsea slipped off while no one was paying attention, leaving me and Mags as the only others to introduce ourselves.

“I’m Bosun,” the boy says. “Annie’s brother.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Mags. This is Finnick.”

He looks at us for a moment, trying to figure out what words to use. “Thank you.”

Mags smiles softly. “You’re very welcome.” Bosun looks back to check if Annie’s still behind me. Mags distracts him with small talk. “Have you been to Victors’ Isle yet?” She starts talking about the houses and the landscape with enough animation that Bosun is sufficiently distracted.

I turn partway to check on Annie. She already seems more relaxed. She slowly inches out from her hiding place behind me and makes her way over to her brother. She steps back when he tries to hug her again but at least she’s not afraid.

She’s barefoot again. Did she even have shoes on when we got on the train? Does she even understand the concept of footwear?

Bosun looks back and forth between me and Mags to gauge our reactions – surely we of all people will know why she’s acting like this. Mags keeps going like nothing happened; I nod once to reassure him. It’s not that I’m an expert on his sister’s mental breakdown, but he seems to think I am because of the way Annie hid behind me.

“I would love for the two of you to have dinner at my house tomorrow night,” Mags says. “But if you’d rather just be alone I understand.”

Bosun looks to Annie for her opinion but she’s lost interest in what’s going on around her. Her head is bent back so she can look up at the overcast sky. Her lips move but no sound comes out. I realize she’s counting the clouds.

“Sure,” Bosun says after a moment. “Why not?”

(ANNIE)

Bosun tells me all about our new house on Victor’s Isle as we march across the flat, sturdy wooden bridge that connects the island to the primary town, Mainland, and my feet get heavy.

District 4 is a strip of land – practically an island – with the sea on one side and the lake on the other. Two canals run through it, and the way they’re laid out divides the district into a few semi-islands connected by bridges. Mainland is the largest. It’s where the docks are, where all the longshoremen work loading and unloading ships. It’s where the market is, too, and the shops, and the school and pretty much everything else important.

There are two little islands in the District, too. One is the Rock, which is the worst place in town. The only things there are the group home and the hovels where most of the sirens live. There’s a little graveyard for the handful of people whose families want to bury them. It’s beside burner house where everybody else’s bodies are cremated.

The bridge that connects it to Mainland is narrow and shaky and more than half a mile long. I don’t like going there.

Then there’s Victor’s Isle, of course, which is nice houses and artful landscapes on one side and a forest and cliffs on the other. The bridge that connects it to Mainland is wide and well kept; it’s just under a quarter mile in length.

Bosun says our new house has three floors. There are four or so bedrooms, all on the second level. Bosun’s taken the master bedroom for himself. His things are all in there, though he hasn’t quite sorted everything out. He told me he started getting my room ready, but all the other rooms on the second floor are empty.

I’ve never had a room to myself before; Bosun and I have always shared. At my aunt’s house we slept in the loft. It was small, but at least we weren’t sharing with our terrible cousins – not that Bosun was the easiest person to be around. There was a mattress on the floor and a hammock hung from the ceiling; we’d switch off sleeping in each one.

We reach the Isle and Mags points out everyone’s houses. Broadsea’s is the closest to ours in the semicircle arrangement. Mags’s is directly across from ours. Finnick’s is beside it. “We’ll be just there if you need anything. And please, do tell us if you need anything,” Mags says.

I keep my eyes straight ahead as Bosun leads me to the house. He takes me on a little tour. The ground floor has a kitchen and a huge living room and two bathrooms and a little library I don’t go into. The second floor has bedrooms; Bosun has taken the master for himself. I don’t care and I don’t like this floor because there are too many rooms, too many places for bad things to hide.

“Do you want to see your room?” he finally asks. I nod.

He leads me toward a flight of stairs – the one that leads to the third floor. They’re much narrower than the other ones and slightly steeper, but it’s nothing too hard or unpleasant to climb.

At the very top of the stairs, there’s a door. “You can change rooms if you want. I just thought you might like this one,” Bo says, and opens the door. He steps into the room and gestures for me to enter.

It’s not as big as his room, but it’s still large. There’s barely any furniture – just an armchair and a chest of drawers and a bed. The bed has a metal frame with peeling white paint, and a metal sort of half-canopy set up over the area where the pillows are. There’s a woven net thrown over the frame piece to act as a canopy. It’s one of the nets Bosun and my cousins and I wove; I can tell from the material and the knots. The wooden floor is cold on my bare feet.

Across from the door, there’s an enormous bay window with a cushioned windowsill. If you look out, you can see the grass and the trees and beyond that, the beach. Its curved, though, so it looks out on the other victors’ houses too.

“Do you like it?” Bosun asks. I’d forgotten he was there. I nod wholeheartedly. “Good.” He waits in the doorway for a few moments longer while I explore the room.

“Big,” I say quietly.

“Is that bad?”

I shake my head. “Just . . . big.”

Bosun and I spend the night wrapped up in blankets on the couch. I even hold his hand at one point but not for very long because it’s not safe because maybe he’ll drag me down into the flood.

He eventually falls asleep but I don’t because I can’t. The dark scares me. And it’s worse since I’m in a new place. I should make sure all the doors and windows are locked but I’m too tired and too scared to move because there are all sorts of things in the dark and I have to stay very still so they won’t see me.

If something did happen, if I screamed for help, would Finnick hear me? I think so. And I think he would come to help me, too. He seems to me that he likes taking care of other people. Mags makes it sound like that, too.

I look out the window by the door at the other victors’ houses. I pick out Finnick’s and I watch it all night, even after his lights go out. It makes me feel better.

(FINNICK)

Bruises have formed along my chest and shoulder by the time I finish having dinner with Mags, angry purple splotches ringed with yellow that mark the places where Annie hit me this morning when I first tried to wake her. They’ll only look worse tomorrow.

I can’t stop staring at them. I can’t believe Annie made them.

She didn’t mean to hurt me; she was just afraid of the hands and arms around her. She didn’t know who they belonged to. It’s a natural reaction. But it’s still alarming.

I draw myself a bath and sink in as far as I can, which isn’t nearly as far as I’d like because the bathtub is too small for me. Water sloshes onto the floor as I settle in. I keep poking at the bruises to see how bad they are. I’ve certainly had worse, but these aren’t small or shallow. Annie struck me as exceedingly gentle before she entered the arena, like she might apologize to a tree root or a rock for stumbling over it.

It isn’t in shock, at least not anymore, and it’s not just trouble adjusting. Something really is wrong with Annie Cresta. I don’t know if insanity is the right term for it but I know she’s not okay.

President Snow was right. It would be better if she’d died. Better for everyone, really. Better for her, too. At least she wouldn’t be stuck in limbo like this. She may even find peace.

I pray to God I won’t dream tonight. At least not about her.

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agent-barnes40 · 4 years ago

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The Celestial Turmoil

He watched as she lit the tiki torch and look up to the moon, his sister. Chandra, his name was. Chandra watched every moonrise for his lunar half to see her growth every day, besides it was a thousand years until he could see her again.

You all know him as The Man in The Moon. She knows him as Proteus. She didn't know of their connection or the pain her brother went through, watching her fall and die from their reign in the night. "You've changed since I last saw you, sister. You've gotten.. happier."

"There's a meteor shower tonight. It'll be my first, you know. I cant wait to see what it looks like."

"It is going to be gorgeous, dear. I'll make sure I get them just like you used too." He responded, and the teenager nodded as if they were talking to each other.

"Thank you." She mumbled, focusing on her laptop, littered with stickers from various games and franchises. He chuckled and just watched her.

Chandra turned when he heard heels clacking behind him and turned to look at his eldest sister. Oriana, she was the one who banished their youngest sister. "Are you still talking to the human?"

Chandra scoffed. "She's our sister, do not call her a human."

"You know that's what she is now, though. She will never become a celestial again." Oriana said, her light blue fringe shifting as she talked. Chandra ran a hand through his black hair, his dark blue eyes glaring at her. "She will be a celestial again. You know how that spell went."

Oh, yes, the spell, I forgot to mention that. The spell that Oriana used to banish their youngest sister had a twist.

After a thousand years of dormant sleep, when the one the spell was cast on sees what they were meant to do, they will return.

"It's tonight, Oriana, and you know it!" Chandra snapped. Oriana scoffed and grabbed at his shoulder. "Chandra, it won't be her. You know that."

The young girl yawned as she lay down on her blanket and closed her laptop. She put her headset on and just stared at the night sky. "I wish I could go up there. Visit all of the planets, see all the stars. It's so beautiful."

Oriana stilled as she heard the voice. "It sounds just like her."

Chandra laughed. "I told you."

"When will she return?" Oriana asked, pushing her hair behind her shoulder. Chandra rolled his eyes. "Tonight. That's all I was told."

"I shall wait here with you until she arrives," Oriana said, turning to a spare maid. "Get everyone in your staff to work on Galaxia's room. She's returning tonight."

The maid nodded and scurried off. The two watched for hours, watching Galaxia bring her items inside and came out a few hours later. "I don't see any meteors.."

They held their breath as she turned to look over the roof of the house and stared where the Milky Way was supposed to rest. Galaxia spun and held her head.

Galexia stared directly at the castle. "You two better get down here!"

Chandra and Oriana hurried to get into a chariot to bring them to her. As Galaxia tried to get her memories in order, she waited for them to arrive.

Chandra hurried over to her when they landed, and Galaxia took in his attire and face. "Oh, brother, how long has it been since I've seen you?"

"A thousand and sixteen years," Chandra whispered as he shakily reached out and rested his hands on her shoulders. "I've missed you."

"I wish I could say the same. I didn't even know who I was." Galaxia whispered and pushed herself into his chest, wrapping her arms around him. Oriana watched the scene as she walked over, she knew she wasn't going to get a welcome as Chandra did.

"Sister?" Oriana whispered, and Galaxia jerked back from Chandra and glared at her fellow Celestial. "I am not your sister, Oriana. You're the one who banished me like I was no-one to you!"

Oriana took a step back and just stared at Galaxia. "You wanted to connect us with another galaxy!"

Galaxia growled, and her eyes glowed white. "I am not continuing a thousand and sixteen-year fight."

Chandra wrapped his arm around Galaxia and led her to the chariot. "I'll have someone bring you to your kingdom, Oriana."

Galaxia spared a look at Oriana, before getting in the chariot. "Let us go home, Chandra."

A few nights had passed when Galaxia emerged from her room, wearing an old gown of hers. She slowly walked down the halls, occasionally looking out the windows to stare down at the earth. "Is this who I am meant to be?"

"Am I meant to just rule at night?" She asked quietly, running a hand through her fast-growing hair that was starting to change color to a dark blue with silver spots. Her eyes were also changing color, from their dark brown to a glowing bright blue.

"You don't just rule at night, sister. You rule at all times." Chandra said as he walked up and stood next to her at the window they were at. "I was just coming to see you."

"I've been trying to figure out the two lives I've lived. I can't just leave the castle to wander through woods since we don't have any."

"I'll get some trees planted in the garden for you," Chandra responded, suddenly knowing this wasn't Galaxia talking; it was the teenager he watched over.

"I never meant for you to be left alone for so long, Chandra," Galaxia said, turning to look at him. "It's not like Oriana had anything against the other galaxies."

Chandra nodded and rolled his hand, offering for her to continue talking. He wanted to get everything off her chest.

"I never expected to be a queen, either." Galaxia started to speak again. "I didn't want to have this much on my shoulders. What if a war happens? I have to command troops while defending an entire galaxy. I don't want anyone dying for my mistakes.."

She started walking, her hair shining. "I don't want you dying, Chandra. I can't just send you off to war."

"And you will never have to, sister," Chandra said as he followed her. Galaxia turned to him. "How can you be so sure?"

"I haven't died yet, sister," Chandra replied as he ran a hand through her hair, trying to slow her down. "Just let yourself transition back to what you looked like before you died."

"I didn't die! My body disintegrated while my mind flew through a family, leading to this one. A thousand and sixteen years later!" Galaxia screamed and finally broke down crying.

A lot was damaged in her fall from the galaxy and in her thousand and sixteen-year banishment. Galaxia's transition from a human to a celestial was breaking her mind.

In the next several months, Galaxia and Chandra were slowly getting Galaxia's mind back together while getting her prepared to take her kingdom back.

"Chandra!?" Galaxia yelled as she hurried through the halls. "We have a meeting with constellations!"

She burst into his room, chuckling at his attempt to get his bowtie together. "Here, let me."

Chandra sighed as he looked down at her. "I tried really."

"Andromeda is getting really impatient, waiting for you. The Ursa's are ready to leave. I almost sent a servant to grab you."

"Let us hurry then." Chandra grabbed her hand and started to lead her to the meeting room. The two entered at the same time and sat together at the head of the table. "Now shall we start, everyone?"

Ursa major piped up. "Is everything going to change now that you're back?"

Galaxia sighed. "Not much will change. Chandra will be going back to his kingdom once I deem myself ready to run alone again. As of right now, Chandra is my advisor as we transition into my ruling solo."

Ursa Major nodded while holding Minor in her arms, rubbing his back. The meeting went on a while longer, while the constellations asked many questions. Chandra and Galaxia answered as many as they could.

The youngest and eldest celestials still had a significant rift, which caused an uneasiness throughout the universe, so Chandra had to schedule a meeting with the two of them.

Chandra and Galaxia met Oriana on Juniper, and immediately the two got tossed into a match. "How dare you assume that I never cared about you?" Oriana asked as they sat down at a table.

"Oh, just banishing me onto earth for over a thousand years means you care for me now?" Galaxia asked back, her eyes glaring into Oriana's. "I very well know what it means, Oriana."

"What does it mean, Galaxia?" Oriana asked, staring her down. Galaxia rubbed her face. "You've hated me since I was born. I'm the youngest, and in the prophesize, it has always been said that when the youngest born of the royal, born with stary hair, she will rule the galaxy. You hoped the prophecy was wrong; that'd you'd rule the sun and the galaxy."

Oriana sighed and glared at her. "Yes, that's true, but I grew to care for you when you didn't have to be my keeper."

"I'm not your keeper, Oriana. I am your sister. It just so happens to be I was prophesied to rule the galaxy." Galaxia sighed, staring at her. "I just wanted an older sister to see how I want to rule the first time I try once to work on the Andromeda galaxy, and I get banished."

Oriana opened her mouth, and Galaxia held a hand up. "No. You don't get to speak. You get to sit there and listen." The Celestial got up and stalked toward her. "Maybe the sun should learn what it is like to be banished."

Chandra hurried over. "Galaxia! No!" Galaxia tossed him aside with her magick and continued to stalk toward Oriana. "From this moment forward, Oriana, you shall be banished for a thousand years on your prophesied part of the universe."

As Galaxia spoke, her eyes glowed white, and her hair flowed with the magic flowing through her body. Oriana whimpered in pain. She felt her body be forcefully removed from Jupiter and on a safe part of the sun. Where hopefully, she resides there for the next nine-hundred and ninety-nine years.

@natasha-romanova-anon (Courtesy tags) @darkbuckybarnesanon @piper-koko-barnes-rogers

#Caitlyn's original Story #The Celestial Turmoil #Original work #Original content

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imjustalonesomewriter · 4 years ago

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The 37th Hunger Games - Part One and Two

This is a Hunger Games fanfiction I’m working on with some other writers from youngwriterssociety.com. There are other posts posted from other Tribute’s perspectives, but I’ll only be posting Sylvia’s perspective here. All credit goes to them for any other characters that I use.

"Are you sure about this?" Sylvia said, looking in the mirror across the room. She was standing on the platform, waiting to be lifted up into the games, next to her stylist. They were standing in the cold, grey room underneath the arena. It had a table, some chairs, and a mirror on the opposite side of the platform. Sylvia had been brought there by hovercraft, given a tracking device, and rushed into the room. "Honey, you can't be sure of anything here," Proteus chuckled and crossed his arms, "It is hideous, but it is the outfit they gave us." Sylvia was wearing a white shirt with tan cargo shorts and a dark green jacket. Her shoes were brand new running shoes, "Totally hideous." Sylvia and Proteus stood in silence for a moment. Sylvia was pre-occupying herself with looking at the outfit, trying not to think of the games. "Do you remember what your mentor taught you?" Proteus asked. "I'd rather not think about it," Sylvia replied, "I've only got a couple more minutes down here anyways." Proteus rolled his eyes, then suddenly walked over to his bag, "You forgot something." "I forgot something?" Sylvia said, "What?" "Your ring, of course," Proteus held up a tiny bronze ring, "The one your older brother gave you! I can't believe we nearly forgot it." "It was my younger brother," Proteus dropped the ring into Sylvia's waiting hand, "Thank you." "Your welcome," Proteus smiled, "Now, honey, you need to g-" Proteus was cut off by a loud siren and the platform closed around Sylvia. She spun around, confirming she was totally trapped in, then pressed her hands against the glass as the platform started to rise, "Proteus, help me!" Proteus responded with a long, inaudible sentence that Sylvia responded with a loud, "What?!" He cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled back a barely audible, "I said you have to get a k-." The platform moved above the room and Proteus disappeared from Sylvia's view. She was surrounded by metal, and the metal seemed to continue until the surface. It was hot and humid, but Sylvia couldn't tell if it was because she was in a metal tube or it was the climate of the arena. Finally, she emerged from the dark of the tube and got her first look at the arena. There was a small mountain range right in front of her, which she assumed was North, and a lake about fifty meters behind her. Past the plants behind the lake, Sylvia swore she could see some water, but she couldn't be sure. Sylvia glanced back at the cornucopia and the countdown. Thirty-eight seconds left until the bloodbath.

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

The clock continued ticking down. Ten. Nine. Eight. It seemed like the clock was taking an eternity to count down. Sylvia was sure it was taking a long time for the other tributes, too, and her family back home. Her family. She hadn't thought about them in forever. Her parents were probably crying, glued to the television. Her brothers were probably making bets. Three. Two. One. Zero. Sylvia bolted off the platform towards the cornucopia. Kids were running past her, grabbing things off the ground, and running away in the opposite directions. To her left, a boy screeched and fell to the ground, dead. Sylvia didn't stop running until she was a couple yards from the Cornucopia, right in between the platforms and the actual cornucopia. Quickly, she grabbed everything she could find. An empty water bottle, a satchal, and some throwing knives. Sylvia stuffed most of her belongings into the bag, but kept one of the knives in her hand, and ran to the left of the mountains. Sylvia ran past the cornucopia and nearly made it past the platforms before she felt something tug at her satchel. She swiftly turned to her left to see a a young woman (Sylvia thought it was the District 11 girl), with her bag in both of her hands. "Hey!" Sylvia exclaimed. The girl released the bag and started running towards the base of the mountain, "Oh, no you don't!" Sylvia chased after the girl, who had just passed the platforms. She was around fifteen, maybe twenty feet away. Sylvia slowly realized that, if Sylvia sped up, the girl was within accurate throwing distance. She switched the knife to her right hand and stopped about ten feet away from the girl. Quickly, before the girl could run more than twenty feet away, Sylvia aimed, wound back her arm, and threw the knife forward. The girl screamed and fell to the ground. The knife had lodged itself right in the back of her neck. She wasn't dead, but she would be soon, unless she bandaged the wound. Sylvia jogged past the girl, but when she saw her start to push herself up, she decided to finish the job. Sylvia pulled the knife out of the girl's neck and the girl started to scream again. Sylvia placed her spare hand over her mouth, not knowing what allies the girl had, and stabbed her twice in the abdomen. The girl fell to the ground and crouched into a ball. Sylvia wiped the knife on the inside of her jacket and kept on running. What would her mother think of her? Her poor, poor mother. Of course, she wouldn't find out for another half an hour, when the game makers actually counted the deaths and played the footage, but now she had to live with her daughter being a murderer. That was punishable by death in the district! Yet, Sylvia figured, she would die anyways and get the same punishment as every other murderer. Sylvia continued running until she reached a secluded spot near a river. It was damp, muddy, and humid, but it would have to do. She pulled her satchel over her shoulders and opened it, revealing the contents. Some matches, a loaf of bread, some rope, and a blanket. Sylvia groaned, how was she going to get fresh water now?

#thg #the hunger games #hunger games #fanfiction #katniss everdeen #everdeen #peeta panem #gale hawthorne #finnick odair #rue #hunger game #36th hunger games #writing #writer #writers #write #fan fiction #imjustalonesomewriter

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ty-talks-comics · 5 years ago

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Best of Marvel: Week of September 18th, 2019

Best of this Week: House of X #5 - Jonathan Hickman, Pepe Larraz, Marte Gracia and Clayton Cowles

The X-Men have conquered their greatest enemy: Death.

After the events of the last issue, it was a wonder just how Hickman would write the X-Men out of the predicament that has stopped them so many times before. In the standard Hickman way, he made retcons that enhanced the usefulness of lesser characters and provided a way out that not only makes sense, but can be used for just about anything in regards to all of our favorite dead mutants.

Goldballs had one of the dumbest powers for the longest time; the ability to propel golden balls from his chest, but in this book we learn that these balls were actually non-viable eggs that, with the help of Proteus, could be made usable. After they’re injected with mutant DNA and given life by Elixir, Tempus ages the eggs to maturity and thanks to Hope’s powers, all of them operate at peak efficiency. This allows the mutants to effectively resurrect their dead friends as husks until Xavier implants mind engrams into the bodies with their past memories.

In House of X #1, one of the first things we see is Charles Xavier meeting the reborn forms of Scott Summers and Jean Grey as full adults after they emerge from egg sacs of some kind. Initially, I thought that this was just some sort of strange symbolic rebirth thing and while it still is, it has become far more literal and intriguing because of five mutants - Goldballs, Elixir, Hope Summers, Proteus and Tempus.

Everything about this scene was immaculate and well done to a point where I almost want to cry. What coloring there was felt low and hushed, almost as if we were seeing something miraculous, the gift of light. Camera angles were mostly downwards, to capture the harmony of the group before they began their work. They stood silent and acted on instinct, indicating they'd done this before, showing us that they were absolutely sure of their process.

Xavier leaning down, cradling his children and asking them to not die again as it kills a part of him every time that they do is heart wrenching, but joyous when he gives them their memories back. There's no hesitation, only love, only care.

The gravity of the event as it happens and seeing someone like Goldballs become one of the most integral mutants in the revival of the mutant race brought me to an unknown level of joy. There was so much weight to their actions with the excellent narration by Magneto as to what exactly they were doing while talking to Polaris, making the point that when they are apart, they are still strong mutants, but together they are even more powerful than previously imagined.

I’m almost certain they used the exact same pages from House of X #1 as we watch the resurrection of the dead team, but this time we have a whole new perspective of how we got there. In an absolutely beautiful celebration of life, we see the mutants of Krakoa praise the Five for bringing their mutant family back to life and a confirmation of those mutants by Storm. Under the purple leaves of a tree of Krakoa with a bit of sunlight shining through. Purple usually symbolizes nobility, passion and authenticity and with the use of dynamic angles and heroic posing, we can be absolutely sure that these are the same mutants.

Angel, Husk, Mystique, Monet, Wolverine, Nightcrawler, Cyclops and Jean Grey all died to ensure that the Mother Mold didn’t come online and destroy the mutant race. In two nine panel grids, Storm greets hew newly reborn friends, questioning how she knows that it’s truly them. After they give their answers from the somber to the cocky to the… Monet, Storm asks what they are and the crowd answers with one word: Mutant.

This message also acts as a bit of foreshadowing for the end of the book and as the theme for this issue as a whole; the idea of togetherness, something that the human race has denied mutants for all of their existence.

The level of solidarity among the mutants is inspiring, the love and pride they have in themselves in infections and makes me want to see them do nothing but succeed. However, I do have something of a concern with the level of reverence they seem to be getting. As they walk naked down the stairs to interact with their fellow mutants, the other mutants reach their hands out at them as the sun shines brightly behind them. They seem as saviors, messiahs, people standing above their fellows and that’s a potentially dangerous path for them to go down, especially since Krakoa is performing so well and don’t need egos to ruin it.

On top of their resurrections, Xavier and Emma Frost are also trying to get the world's governments to accept Krakoa's pharmaceuticals and accept the Mutant Utopia as an independent nation. With a few notable exceptions from Russia, Latveria and Wakanda (among a few other countries that also would not accept Mutants or their cure alls) most of the world is very into the prospect of life giving drugs in exchange for giving mutants diplomatic immunity and recognition.

In many ways, this is the progress that they have always strived for. Some people aren't reticent to their acts of kindness out of ideological differences, but others see the benefit of siding with the new Nation as long as they can see the benefits. They may be alliances of necessity or fear, but the point still stands that their autonomy is being recognized. They're not being actively hunted, at least since Orchis was stopped from activating the Mother Mold and with their population in the cusp of becoming what it was in the past, they are flourishing and don't NEED human support, but they find it better that they receive it.

With the world coming together for mutants, there's only one more group left to truly unite the houses: The Villains. In my opinion, most of House of X has been leading up to this, the day when even mutant villains will come in full support of Xavier's new mission to save the race and there are some nasty ones here: Mister Sinister, Lady Mastermind, Mesmero, Selene, Sebastian Shaw, Emplate, Exodus, Gorgon, Black Tom Cassidy and Azazel.

But these villains pale in comparison to the final arrival in Apocalypse. In more than one way, Apocalypse's dream has finally come to fruition as well. Mutants have risen above and finally become the dominant species that he always believed they could be. They have evolved past their petty and weak natures and embraced their strength in both numbers and power. With Krakoa welcoming him with some lovely birds, Apocalypse speaks on behalf of all of the evil mutants when he says that they will obey the laws of Krakoa as they are written and cements this new alliance with a handshake with Charles Xavier.

This blew my mind. Apocalypse's whole deal was that he would absolutely destroy the weakness in the mutant gene pool and was only able to do so with Charles Xavier dead in the Age of Apocalypse timeline. He tore the world asunder, but as we learned from one of Moira MacTaggert's past lives, even this would not have lasted. If Moira's been in contact with Apocalypse, then he too knows that following Xavier right now is the only true path to mutant evolution and supremacy.

I have never been so elated, surprised and anticipating of a comic in so long.

Pepe Larraz and Marte Gracia are a match made in heaven and this book has a cinematic quality through and through. Larraz allows the characters to appear overjoyed, happy and proud with beautiful facial expressions. With faraway shots and ever changing angles in the panels, there's such a grandeur in the story being told. The sun is always shining in this particular issue, much like it was in House of X #1, signaling a brand new day and bright future for mutantkind.

Gracia's colors are bright and vibrant, emanating with a hopeful glow. Their lighting effects are on JJ Abrams levels of shiny and somehow The Five characters stand out apart from the clothes that they used to wear. Tempus' blue pops out perfectly against Goldballs gold and black. The purple of the tree leaves in the Confirmation is absolutely beautiful and awe-inspiring and the darkness during Apocalypse's arrival set against the shining God rays is the perfect contrast.

I have never been more proud to be a fan of the X-Men. Knowing their history of death and rebirth, it's relieving to see that they now have the means to finally conquer their mortal enemy. There's so many that can be brought back to life (provided their deaths haven't already been retconned). John Proudstar, the original Thunderbird, Jamie Madrox, Negasonic Teenage Warhead, Sean Cassidy, Blindfold and many others that either died so long ago or died at the hands of Matthew Rosenberg's Uncanny X-Men.

House of X has gone above and beyond and rejuvenated a portion of the Marvel Universe that has been a chaotic mess for the better part of almost 20 years by this point. There's finally unity amongst all of the mutants in the Universe, from 90s villains to even recent ones from Brian Michael Bendis' run.

Jonathan Hickman is proving that almost anything he touches turns to gold as he's crafted an amazing tale in only nine issues, counting Powers of X as well. I find myself, for the first time in a long time, not just going through the motions. I feel as though I'm witnessing a revolution occurring, an actual brand new era for some of my favorite super people.

The series is set to conclude in about three weeks for X-Men #1 and I am already so very excited. Highest of recommends.

What are we? Mutants.

#marvel #marvel comics #house of x #charles xavier #apocalypse #goldballs #magneto #storm #jean grey #monet #cyclops #jonathan hickman #pepe larraz #marte gracia #xmen #x men

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maldito-romance-blog · 5 years ago

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Along Came...Something

The first book in Elizabeth Boyle’s ‘Rhymes with Love’ series, Along Came a Duke was everything I expected and yet nothing I predicted.

Synopsis:

In the village of Kempton, there is said to be a curse. He who weds a girl from Kempton is bound for an unhappy marriage...if he lives that long. Thus, no woman in Kempton marries, and many are happy to stay that way...

Miss Tabitha Timmons, a penniless spinster, has worked herself to the bone as her aunt and uncle’s scullery maid in the three years since her father’s untimely passing. All that changes when she is left a fortune payable only upon her marriage to the very respectable Mr. Barkworth.

On her way to London to meet and wed her intended, Tabitha happens to meet the Duke of Preston. He spies a rebellious streak in her that matches his own, and he decides to make it his mission to save her from such a passionless match, interfering with her life at every turn. All too soon, Preston (whose very name spells ruin) has Tabitha caught between the good fortune that guarantees her security, and his kiss, which promises an entirely different happily-ever-after.

Characters:

Tabitha - a headstrong protagonist that actually has a brain...most of the time. Clumsy. Can’t dance a step. Some wit. Wants to kick everyone in the teeth, but does not follow through. Moral and straitlaced vicar’s daughter. Melts at one touch of Preston for some reason

Preston - a charming and somewhat devilish duke that falls in love on the first date. Can never eat alone. Loves his family. Snarky. Hates Barkworth so much.

Barkworth - Tabitha’s betrothed, he is literally the epitome of mama’s boy, and such a terrible marriage prospect it’s laughable. I was so disgusted by this guy, I can’t even.

Roxley - Preston’s best friend. Earl of Roxley. Terrified of his aunt. Friends with Harriet Hathaway, a friend of Tabitha.

Mr. Muggins - Irish terrier. Best character. Hates feathers.

Review:

I would like to say that I did enjoy this book. That said, there were some issues. Firstly, Tabitha starts this book as the paragon of virtue. She’s such a passive Cinderella character. She wakes up before dawn to scrub floors, set the table, clean this and that, and get the mail. She refuses to let her friends know the extent of emotional abuse she’s enduring because she’s prideful or passive or something. The first time she grows a backbone is when debating with Preston about the fact that not all women want to get married.

“Sir, I will have you know, I never intend to go seeking a husband and am quite content with that notion.” There, she’d managed her mind, and fortified by her first success, she continued unabashedly, “marriage offers no benefits to a lady, save leaving her a servant to a man’s fickle whims and his selfish demands.”

I tell you, I read that twice because truer words have never been spoken in a romance novel! Like, oh my goodness. You go, girl!

Then...she inherits stuff to leave her situation. Great, right? No. In order to inherit, she has to get married to Mr. Barkworth. Before she knows it, her bags are packed and she’s shipped off to London. Where she meets Preston, again. Enter problem number 2: they fall in love after 1 dinner.

Preston can’t eat along because of his tragic backstory, so they end up dining together because Roxley is a terrible friend and Yorkshire pudding or something. They eat, they laugh, they dance. Then, they kiss. This kiss is wild with passion or something. Like all romance novels. You know the drill. Anyway, he pushes her away and the evening ends. He can’t stop thinking about her and vice versa. They meet again in the park and at a ball and keep meeting. He finds out about her betrothal and decides that she deserves better.

Meanwhile, Tabby meets Barkworth, and he’s such a bore. Always talking about status and his mother. Here’s why no one likes him:

- mama’s boy

- more concerned with his coat than his fiance

- wants her to get rid of Mr. Muggins

That last one is enough for me to kick him to the curb. Anyway, it’s obvious he’s the wrong one for her. Just once, I’d like a romance novel with a love triangle where the guy that wants the girl but doesn’t get her is actually a decent guy and backs off when he sees that they actually wouldn’t work out. Like Proteus from the Sinbad movie. Anyway...

The following paragraph contains spoilers...

Because Preston can’t stay out of her business, he decides to read her dead uncle’s will. Long story short, the only way to get out of the marriage and still retain the fortune is to have Barkwork cry off. So, he decides to help Tabby by ruining her (this sounds a lot worse than it is). He manages to ruin her at her own engagement ball by doing the sex stuff (this is literally the 1 sex scene in the novel). Barkworth cries off, worse stuff happens, yada yada. They get together the end

-End of Spoilers-

Overall, not a bad plot. There are a few twists and turns which keep the story interesting, but nothing too crazy. I will say that my favorite aspect of the whole novel was the idea of agency.

Tabitha doesn’t get to make a lot of choices. She is whisked off to London and almost forced into a marriage because her entire family sucks. The only time she gets to choose is when she’s with Preston. He lets her choose how far they go when they’re at the ball (literally hands her the key to the locked door). He gives her the choice of whether to marry him or not. Lets her have as much food as she wants. Okay, so that last one isn’t so much a choice, but he doesn’t criticize her for eating so much. All that said, he does have moments where he attempts to coerce her, but if her answer is ‘no’ he always backs off. Most of his coercions are playful and never serious.

One of the things that annoyed me most was Tabitha. So many times were slightly infuriating because she would think of great quips but never say them aloud. Another thing was that the writing got a bit long-winded. I felt myself speeding through the sexy stuff because I didn’t care about it. There’s a dance that lasts for like 15 min. ONE DANCE. The writing isn’t bad, just very thorough in its description.

I’d give this book a 3.5 out of 5.

This has been a review for Along Came a Duke by Elizabeth Boyle.

#elizabethboyle #regencyromance #alongcameaduke #rhymeswithlove #romancenovel #regencynovel #bookreview

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kurtty-drabbles · 6 years ago

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Swan au (his family)

N/A: I did think about this part. Kitty meeting his family. And aside from building more Yana and Kurt fight, I also want to add more elements here. Basilisks is one of them as well as Kitty being more badass than Kurt.

@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling @discordsworld

Talia is wearing her best dress. Her mother often taught the importance of looking your best, no matter the situation, your blood is royal and people will judge you for your appearance. Show your best even if inside you feel like crying. And this Talia´s golden rule.

This weekend, the princess lied to her family saying she will train some of the new members of the X-men, in reality, she is going to visit her father. Something her family(by mother´s side) takes issues with such meetings. Kurt was never the one to care in keeping good impressions.

Arriving in her father´s lair is always a feeling(not always a good one) as the house resembles uncanny valley and Talia still thinks lifeless dolls will attack her. What makes the scene less creepy is the addition of a pound.

The pound was created artificially as in the past Kurt never had a pound, much less one like this. What makes the pound even more breathtaking and relaxing is the lonely swan swinging peacefully.

Careful, Talia. Swans can still be pretty nasty if provoked. Even the prettiest ones.

She arrives at the margins of the pound and observes the swan. Such a beautiful creature. Talia noticed a light scar on swan´s neck. A small detail that didn´t break the perfection of the swan´s beauty.

The swan regards the blue girl. For some odd reason, Talia fixed her hair, tales about swans fly through her head and the fact her father has a swan now has to mean something.

Always be polite with a swan. They are smart and prideful creatures. Don´t like insolence. Pietro learns this in the hardest way.

"Hello, Swan, you´re beautiful" Talia speaks as the swan blinks and nods prompting the woman to continue "I came here to see my father, so, I don´t have bread to feed you, but, I could ask him about it" Talia has a sense that the swan seems surprised by the fact Talia is the daughter of the Necromancer. The swan gentle and gracefully leaves the pond.

"There are you, Talia" Kurt calls her attention to the right way making the blue woman forget about the swan on her left. Kurt has a curious expression.

"You have a daughter?!" a new voice gains Talia´s attention and her total surprise. The swan is changed into a pretty woman who looks confused at Talia and at Kurt.

"Uhm, yes, I suppose we ought to talk about this" Kurt explained somewhat shameful.

"So" Talia starts once the introductions are over and all explanations are given " you found an injury Kitty" she can´t say swan as this would be too strange, then again, maybe dating a magical swan is the normal thing Kurt ever date and that says a lot about his dating past "and helps her and now she´s helping you. And you were thinking of telling me that?"

"Yes, I was just looking for the right words " Kitty and Talia share the same look of incredulity and Kurt tries to amend the situation " I was careless and I should have told more about the other. Kitty, I did state having kids" the woman nods feeling still a bit confused and crestfallen. "and Talia I told I´m seeing someone. Grant, I could have handled this better but at least you´re knowing this from me"

"I suppose," Talia speaks. Never forget Kurt is an evil wizard. "So, Kitty are you liking to be a human?"

"Is not so different from my other life," she speaks freely and Talia is happy for that. Never forget her father is evil. "I learn something new each day, is an endless adventure and little one, he´s not controlling my mind" her tone is poisoned and refined until the last part where Kitty rests her face on her right hand and looks at Talia, before the other could deny such claims, "your face says all. That boy from Excalibur thought the same. And I´m aware of your father´s reputation and past, I know what he´s and I´m comfortable with that. He´s not controlling me and I don´t have an agenda. If you want to make sure I´m not an evil woman using your father. I have the truth collar. You can make questions if you want"

Talia shakes her head. This woman is not being controlled by him.

"I just want to make sure you understand...father is a great man, but, he´s evil time and time again" Talia explained kindly and Kitty nods.

"I´m still here. Talia is rude to talk about your father when he´s right here" Kurt reprimed mildly and Talia waves him off, after all, the man does that with Talia and Damian all the time.

"I know what he´s and he knows what I´m. There are no secrets among us...and now I know you"

"Damien will be pleased to meet you. The last " Talia can´t say girlfriend and Kitty have enough intelligence to understand and suggest the word, woman, " woman was not so nice, no, don´t look at me like that, father, she wasn´t and me and Damien warn you."

Talia and Kurt go back and forth until the blue woman returns to her point.

"You seem to be a nice person and anyone that can bring a bit of kindness into his dark soul is welcome. So, Kitty, good luck and thank you" Talia replied calmly.

"Oh, thank you. I don´t think I´m doing anything that worth the thank you from a princess, loving this evil asshole is not the hardest thing I´ve done ...is easier" Talia watches as Kurt feels moved (blushing purple in such innocuous way as his tail flip in a more fanatical state. Just like Talia.) "However, if you want to congratulate me, why not the time when I stop the Swan Lake to be infested with Basilisk?"

"What?" Talia asked and now Kurt laughs amused at his daughter reaction. The laughter is so similar to Talia.

"Or you could wait until I kill the fox." the last part Talia didn´t understand but judging by her determination this is not a joke and Swans love revenge(hey, like dad does!)

"Never mind, Talia, Kitty has hate for this Fox, but, you came here to visit me, how are things in the Genosha?" Now Talia´s face gets serious as the woman speaks carefully "Dad, mother would be furious if she knew I told you this but...using a loophole here...I can only say to be careful with Princess Illyana Rasputin. She´s far more powerful than you believe"

"Oh, I heard that name" Kitty pipes in "Doug speak highly of this Princess saying she is extremely powerful"

"Right, and I should be impressed?" Kurt asked albeit bored with this talk.

"Dad, she was taught by Belasco and many claims she is better than you. So, be careful"

"Belasco?!" Now, this gains Kurt´s attention. That lech does only take the best of the best. Is Illyana Rasputin so powerful?

Talia leaves Kurt and Kitty as she has to return home. Her cover-up can´t last long. Kurt is now musing about this Illyana Rasputin(Belasco would never teach a weakling) and only stop when Kitty is holding the teacup squeezing but not breaking.

"How many kids do you have?" Kitty asked in a disheartened tone.

"The truth? I´m very old, Katzchen and I have several children along the years" Kurt speaks carefully.

"I see, we swans...don´t do that. If I take you, it will be forever. Look, I´m smart enough to know you´re evil and you´re immortal. You´re far too good looking to be waiting for a magical swan to be human, even though a certain German Prince did just that" she jokes but carries on using the same tone of voice "I can accept you wanting to take the world, because quite frankly, humans do that all the time. Conquer, destroy and created kingdoms. You are not the only source of evil in the world."

"However, I´m not here to feel cheated on. As I said, when I take you is for life, I don´t want to find out you have kids with random women because you can and I don´t want to have kids with random men, can you really be faithful?"

"I´m not a good man, Katzchen, I conquer many kingdoms and did many bad things, however, if you fear that I´ll put a baby in any woman I see, rest assured, as much media love to paint me as a manwhore, when I take you, I don´t plan to share you with anyone else or waste time with anyone else. When I love, I love deeply" his gaze is intense.

"Ok, I need to think about it. Are more children of you coming to meet us?"

"I believe not" ________________

Princess Yana is a growing name that Proteus knows is far greater than his own. If he had plans to be the ruler for good, those plans died as soon Yana returns. The Princess is talking about the gem mines and Proteus is in trouble.

If Yana reveals the scheme all Proteus good working will be for nothing, so far, the Princess hasn´t done that.

Yana is not hiding she dislike the man. Proteus knows he´s outmatched and knows Genosha is supporting Yana, not him.

As for Yana, she believes information is vital. So, when Doug, once returning from his one month deal with the necromancer told her everything.

"Who is this woman? Kitty?" Yana asked and the other members have no clue. Amara and Sunspot using their influence try to fish information about her, nothing was found.

"Excalibur meet her?" Doug nods "Ok, I want to talk with Excalibur"

#swan au #kurtty #meeting the kids #kitty pryde #kurt wagner #talia your dad is scary #Illyana Rasputin #New Mutants #Yes I´m building something here #Kitty is a swan and they take faithfullness sersly #the line of him saying he will take her is not meant to be evil #creepy yes but not evil or rapey #evil wizard kurt

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