#she is LYING she is LYING do NOT TRUST HER she WANTS TO KILL GOVERMENT OFFICIALS

[crowcolonthree]

hey so y'all know how i'm transfem?

well i finally decided to start listening to femtanyl and oH MY GOD

[marvelstars]

One of the discarded scenes from ROTS which I regret where taken down other than the dialogue in which is made obvious Palpatine uses darkside energy to turn Anakin into Vader was this scene between Anakin and Padmé on Mustafar where Padme tried to kill Anakin with a knife before deciding not to because she still loved him but this was enough for him to think both Padmé and Obi-Wan planned to kill him together. This scene makes a lot of sense for their character arc in the movie.

Before their meeting on Mustafar there had been this growing tension that stayed subtext between them for most of the movie in which Anakin is asked by Palpatine to stay more and more time around him, linking Anakin to his political manouvers towards building the Empire at the same time Padme, Bail and Mon Mothma are developing the beggining stages of the rebel alliance, including developing some links to the separatist side.

There´s a moment, which is in the movie, where Padmé asks Anakin if he can talk to the Chancellor about giving up his war powers and start elections once again, which makes Anakin mad because

1.- That´s not supposed to be something decided between individuals but on the Senate

2.- He´s already been accused by part of the Jedi Council, including Obi-Wan, for being too close to Palpatine and getting benefices from that relationship when Anakin didn´t ask anything of the Chancellor, it was Palpatine decision to ask Anakin be put in the council to "keep him informed" while the Jedi Council accepted the offer to ask Anakin to spy on Palpatine using that opportunity.

Anakin didn´t decide any of that. he simply questioned why he was put on the council without being a master, which later he understands is because they want him to spy on the chancellor.

3.- So now Padmé is also thinking he must have some kind of good relationship with Palpatine which can be used to address the situation at the Senate but in reality Anakin doesn´t have any control over what Palpatine does or doesn´t do.

This is such an interesting tension because while Padme and Obi-Wan show worry over Anakin´s emotional state Palpatine has made sure to isolate them from Anakin by putting doubts not only on Anakin´s mind about them but also on them about Anakin. They start lying to him about those secrets meetings in which Padme´s discussed the creation of the alliance and while she wanted to tell Anakin she knew he was too close to Palpatine and defensive of him to be able to trust him with the information.

What´s tragic was that Anakin agreed Palpatine needed to give up his powers once the war was done, sure he believed Palpatine has been a good Chancellor so far and he agrees the Senate needs to become a more able goverment body to make decisions quicker but this doesn´t mean he believes Palpatine should stay in power indefinitely, this is in part why he was so excited in the movie to end the war because he thought everything would be solved that way, if the war ended he could leave the Jedi Order to built a family with Padme without worrying about Obi-Wan´s well being, his debt with the Jedi Order for their training would be paid, Palpatine would give up his extraordinary political powers which would lead towards the Senate and Padme being less wary of him and Padme and him could be married openly without fear of reprisals.

Anakin´s big tragedy in ROTS for me was that he wanted to help everyone of his loved ones, do what they wanted him to do, including Palpatine, even agaisn´t his better judgment, which only resulted in him being manipulated by Palpatine and distrusted by everybody else.

The problem was that Palpatine started to low key accuse Padme and her coalition of senators of betrayal to the republic(he isn´t wrong but the republic is now a dictatorship) and while Anakin didn´t believe him he also knew they have been holding secret meetings on Padme´s appartment but he decided not to say anything on the matter, much of Anakin´s cooperation with the Chancellor had to do with Anakin trying to disuade Palpatine of the idea Padmé was a traitor and the obvious consequences this would bring for her and their secret family.

So when Anakin was sure Palpatine was the sith, he told the Council who attacked Palpatine, got killed and Anakin tried to stop Master Windu from killing the Chancellor fearing only Palpatine knew how to save Padme of dying, Palpatine kills Windu and Anakin joins the Sith and attacks the Jedi temple, Padme was aware of all of this and planned to kill Anakin herself.

Their hug on Mustafar was about this, that´s why Padmé takes some time for herself before going out of her ship to meet Anakin but when Vaderkin starts ranting about them becoming leaders of the Empire, kill Palpatine and make everything as they wanted it to be, Padmé knew for sure how truly lost in madness Anakin had become, so it makes sense for her to try to kill him but decide not to because she knows Anakin wasn´t fully in control of himself and that Palpatine was in a big way responsible for the state her husband was but also that she and Obi-Wan didn´t notice it until it was far too late.

I honestly think it was a last minute decision by lucasfilm to change cut this scene because even in Stover novel, when Padmé knows Anakin is not with Obi-Wan and her and that he isn´t on the ship, she starts crying, saying sorry over and over again to Anakin before she starts giving birth? Why would she apologize to Anakin after all of this if she didn´t do anything to him? or didn´t plan to do? it doesn´t makes sense, it makes more sense she did plan something but could not bring herself to do it and that´s why she decided to ask him to run away with her because she knew Obi-Wan was coming to kill Anakin and he had a bigger chance than her on actually doing it.

Well, I think this makes for a full story which considers Anakin´s and Padme´s character arcs and I think this would have made a great addition to the tragedy within Revenge of the Sith. This moment confirms Anakin truly did lost both Obi-Wan and Padmé even before their confrontation on Mustafar and how he was way too insane at the moment to notice what was happening and gives Padme´s political arc a nice ending because she´s indeed one of the founders of the rebellion, the mother of Luke and Leia despite the tragedy of losing her husband to Palpatine and the darkside.

So in the end after both Padmé and Obi-Wan tried to kill him, Anakin knows nothing of the evil things he did served for anything, he´s now completely at the mercy of Palpatine, the Republic is lost anyway, nothing of what Padme, him or the Jedi Order did could stop it from becoming an Empire, Padme and their baby are dead and he´s become a Sith now betraying not only his loved ones but himself as well. He´s now completely dominated by the darkside and lost everything and everyone in the process, including Palpatine because he knows now everything in the "friendship" was a lie to make him fall to the darkside.

This covers some plotholes the actual ROTS movie had and completes the tragedy for all characters involved.

[from-the-clouds]

Kiss Me More (Part II) - Zemo/Reader

Masterlist || Part One

Summary: Part two, read part one if you haven’t already! Sam & Bucky put reader in charge of looking after Zemo....again. Series loosely inspired by this song.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Kissing, heavy petting, mentions of sex, minor TFATWS spoilers.

A/N: Wow! I was so shocked on the feedback I got on the first part of this story. It has nearly 800 notes. I’m not used to my writing getting that kind of attention so I really appreciate the love. I decided to make this into at least a 3-4 part series and there will be eventual smut, but I feel like there’s something sweet between these two that goes beyond an obvious physical attraction, so I do want to build that a bit before we get there. This weekend I rewatched TFATWS & Civil War because I’m officially obsessed with Zemo lol. Please let me know what you think, and let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist. :) 

-----

“Keep an eye on him.”

Y/N watched Bucky and Sam split off again. That was now at least the third time she’d heard that phrase since she arrived in Riga. Little did they know, she was probably the worst person to be put in charge of Zemo. Truthfully, it was starting to be a little insulting.

It was unclear why she’d been brought along on this mission, when half the time Sam and Bucky were talking in hushed tones just out of her earshot. There was always more to the story than they told her, but this time, it felt like she was more out of the loop than ever.

She adjusted the neckline of the sweater she wore out of an abundance of caution, checking subconsciously to make sure it hadn’t exposed the mark Zemo had left on her from the day before. It was a discovery she’d made that morning, and persisted despite her efforts to cover it up with makeup.

“According to those two, I must be the best at babysitting you,” she muttered under her breath. It was petty, so she wasn’t even sure if she wanted him to hear. But he did.

“Babysitting?” Zemo lifted an eyebrow. 

“You know, a nanny, a governess….whatever a Baron’s equivalent is,” she said, looking him in the eye for the first time that day, which was a mistake. He looked so handsome in that long, fur-lined coat, tall and refined, hair styled perfectly. There had to be warrants out for his arrest since escaping prison, and in his current getup, he was hard to miss. 

It wasn’t easy to ignore the stifling tension between them. The Baron hadn’t left her thoughts since she’d closed the door on him the evening before. Now they were alone again. She couldn’t decide if that was thrilling or terrifying, so she decided on both.

“It’s nice of them to give us some alone time,” Zemo stepped close to her, one gloved hand pressing between her shoulder blades. Despite the cool temperature outside, it was the first thing today that had her shivering. 

“Walk with me,” he commanded sternly. She saw no opportunity to refuse as they started in the direction opposite of where Bucky and Sam had disappeared. 

“Zemo-”

“Helmut,” he corrected her. “But go on…”

“We have to focus on figuring out where Donya’s funeral will be,” she said, feeling his hand slide down to settle on the small of her back, trying to inch away, but he just pulled her closer. “We can’t waste time.”

“I know Riga inside and out, that won’t be as difficult as you and your friends think,” he murmured. His proximity was already suffocating. Or maybe comforting. It was hard to tell. “Tell me, what is your business with them? You aren’t an Avenger. This was my first time hearing your name.”

She snorted, finally finding the strength to pull away, and he dropped his hand. That was one thing that had confounded her. He was confident, took liberties with what others would allow, but knew when to stop pushing. There was something alluring to his nature. 

“I’m not,” she responded, wondering how much she was willing to share. When she stole a glance out of the corner of her eyes, his head was lowered, leaning in, listening intently for her response. She wondered if he really cared, or if he was good at pretending. It was easy to believe that he did.

“Bucky and I aren’t that different,” she continued. “That’s why we’re friends. I’m not a super soldier, but I was taught how to fight, how to kill. I followed orders for too long without questioning whether or not I was doing the right thing. And at least now, I think I am.”

“You think,” he repeated, and corrected her again like he had the day before. As much as she wanted some kind of clever or quick quip back, she wore her heart on her sleeve for the moment and shrugged. There was nothing to defend when she still wasn’t sure what responsibilities she had in this world. 

Zemo halted, and she paused too, turning back to look at him. “So you were an assassin,” he murmured, reaching out. Nodding slightly, she lowered her eyes when his gloved thumb brushed across her face. The buttery, overpowering smell of leather took her over as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I would’ve never guessed. Du bist so süß.”

Her knowledge of German was limited, but she could see a flash of what looked like affection in his eyes. He couldn’t be lying, could he? She wondered. She wanted to trust that he wasn’t, wanted to identify every good part of him she could, so she could justify the overwhelming attraction she felt towards him. Something in her just kept pulling forward against her will, like a magnet.

“You’d be surprised,” she answered, but didn’t pull away. The intensity of his gaze made her feel weak, but there was something strangely reassuring in his eyes. It was just the two of them, standing on a crowded sidewalk.

She rose her hand to clasp around his, frowning when she felt the hard loop of a ring on one of his gloved fingers. It had gone unnoticed by her, until now. He still wore a wedding band. 

It would have been easy to vocalize the observation, gauge his reaction, try to regain some upper hand and remind him who exactly he was dealing with. But, it would’ve been pointlessly cruel, as she knew what that felt like to answer that question. Those days were behind her, now. 

As if the universe was scolding her, a loud car horn broke through the perceived silence. His hand dropped from her face, and they began to walk again. 

“I had lots of time to think in prison,” he said after a heady pause in conversation. “About the things I’d done. Whatever intentions you have, to someone, you’re always the enemy. What I thought was important, trying to serve the greater good, it isn’t always worth the trouble. I was trying to protect what I had already lost, the places and people I’d taken for granted.”

Deciphering his words, she took a moment before responding. “That’s actually...very insightful,” she said, partly surprised by what he’d shared, appreciating that he felt her vulnerability, and matched it in his response.

“I know you’re stunned I’m not a brute,” he answered, increasing his pace to a determined strut rather than a lazy stroll. She was forced to keep up with him. “You’ve been told what to think about me by Sam and Bucky.”

She scoffed. “Not just them. The entire world. All the people you’ve hur-”

He halted and turned to face her so quickly, she collided with his chest and her breath caught in her throat. 

“I’m not that man anymore,” his voice was nearly a growl, disgust laced in his features as he looked down at her. 

But as soon as she recognized it, he became expressionless again, backing away. Falling back into step beside him, they continued to walk, a bit faster than they had been before. She followed him, at this point convinced that she might get lost without his guidance, but a little startled by his sudden change in behavior.

“What do you think of Riga?” he asked her as they cut through an alleyway. His voice held none of the venom that it had a few moments ago, so she wondered if she’d just hit a sore nerve.

“It’s beautiful,” she answered, admiring the old brick buildings and fine architecture. “But I think I haven’t had much of a chance to appreciate it.”

“Have you been thinking about me?”

They ducked under an alcove, and she realized he’d carefully led her off the crowded streets. It was much quieter here. She suddenly didn’t feel as protected as she had been with him in the open. The temperature in the shaded space was much lower than expected. And he was standing over her, waiting for some response she didn’t know if she could give. 

“I haven’t forgotten about last night, liebling,” he continued. 

Of course she had been thinking of him. Nearly nonstop. What they’d shared, what it meant. She hadn’t been able to sleep until she relieved herself, fingers rubbing her clit and delving into her warmth, whimpering his name when she finally came. Still, it had done little to quell the ache inside her. 

It was a horrible thing, she’d decided. Objectively horrible, and unprofessional. There was the consideration of accessibility. What did he see in her beyond a means to an end? Was she really going to throw everything she’d worked for away to a man who was going to use her to scratch an itch?

Too much was at stake, Sam and Bucky’s trust, her reputation, her job, and she couldn’t allow it to go on. 

But oh, how much she wanted it to. 

“Yesterday was nice,” she straightened up, holding her own. “I won’t lie to you.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up slightly in a self-satisfied smirk. 

“But I’m not foolish,” she continued. “Coming on to the first woman you see after you get out of jail? Seems pretty convenient.”

At first, the Baron tilted his head to the side, his brows pulled together at her words. But after a moment, the smile returned, and he chuckled. “Is that what you think this is about?”

“Don’t insult me, Helmut,” she said sternly, trying her best not to feel embarrassed. She was only being honest.

“Are you always so severe to yourself?” he asked, tutting lightly. 

It would have been better to say nothing. Why give him anything at all? 

She didn’t answer his question, just backed away from him and began walking in no particular direction, wanting only to increase the space between them and regain her common sense. That was impossible however, as she was jolted backwards before she even knew what was happening, a firm hand on her upper arm, and she was chest to chest with Zemo once more. 

“We were in Madripoor together. I could’ve had my way with many women there if I wanted. But I didn’t.”

“Please-” she rolled her eyes.

“If all I wanted to do was fuck someone, I could have done it by now,” he stalked forward, the air pressure around them dropping, weighed by the tension hanging thick between them. “But that’s not what I want. I want you.”

His words, spoken in a soft, low purr rattled away every bit of resolve she had left in her. Some last ditch effort found her stepping backwards, but her body met the brick wall behind them and she realized he had her cornered. 

In more ways than one, she thought.

Taking in a shaky breath, she looked up at his eyes, clouded with lust. “I know you want me,” he said, not a shred of doubt in his voice. But why should there have been? He was right. 

Her eyes darted around, like someone or something around them was going to jump out and save her from herself. It didn’t go unnoticed. “There’s no need to be scared, liebling. I feel it, too.”

With that, he closed the gap between their lips. He tasted sweet, like the candies he’d been eating back at his flat. Turkish delight. She was drowning in him again, his scent, his touch, everything about him enveloped and beguiled her. Her shirt had bunched up slightly somewhere along their walk and his gloved hands explored the exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

She surrendered, letting him tease open her mouth and claim her wholly. It was still bad, she knew. But there wasn’t any last bit of self-control left in her. 

The layers of clothing between them didn’t allow for the same proximity she’d had to him the evening before. Groaning in delight and frustration, she reached up to tangle and rake her fingers through his hair, as his fingers curled around the top of her sweater, revealing the sensitive skin of her neck. 

“Don’t hide this,” his lips left hers as his eyes focused on the stamp of affection he’d left behind the day before. “Let them see.”

“You know I can’t,” she responded, sheepishly pulling it back into place. Studying her with amiable consideration, his hand rose to brush tenderly across her cheekbone. 

“I thought you’d come to me last night,” she confessed, drawing away slightly, shocked by her own admission. But right now, she didn’t feel the need to put up as much of a facade. He looked positively virile; panting, his cheeks flushed and hair mussed, pupils blown out as he focused on her. To know she was the cause of his current state of disarray gave her an immense amount of satisfaction. A buried, salacious part of her wondered what else she could do to make him look even more unkempt.

“I considered it,” he said, sounding almost timid. “But I want to do this right.” He leaned in, pressed a kiss beneath her ear. “In private, so no one can disturb us,” he continued, lips moving down her neck. “We can take our time, you can be as loud as you’d like.”

The mental image he was currently painting for her was doing very little to strengthen her convictions, whatever those had been. The thought of her legs wrapped around his torso, naked bodies pressed together sent a bolt of electricity through the pit of her stomach, radiating outwards. She wanted his lips on every inch of her skin. Aching at the possibility, the present tease of his teeth nibbling on her collarbone wasn’t helping.

“You know we can’t,” she didn’t try to stop the thought as it came out of her mouth.

“What is there to lose?”

Everything, she thought, but didn’t answer. She couldn’t really, as his gloved hand was trailing slowly under her jacket and sweater, against her bare skin, and cupping her breast through her bra. Whimpering, she couldn’t control the way her body arched against his.

Hooking her knee on his hip, she let him press forward, feeling the warmth of his excitement through his trousers and her jeans. He ground against her once, teasingly, and she moaned softly into his mouth. 

He was the one to pull away, and she was thankful he did. “Think about it, liebling,” he said softly, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. “Du hast die Kontrolle.”

“We can’t,” she answered again, but even she didn’t believe herself. Raking her hands through her hair and adjusting her rumpled sweater, she straightened up. “We have a job to do.”

Brushing past him out of the alcove, each step she took away from him gave her the self control she desperately needed. She glanced over her shoulder to see him reluctantly trudging behind. At this point, she wasn’t foolish. There were only two ways this could end.

----

Part III

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[octerminal]

I’ve talked before about how Nadia being Earthborn is the central reason she’s renegade leaning, but I really want to get into it again because I’ve been listening to Hadestown a lot recently and that always makes me think of Nadia because the musical touches on how traumatizing poverty is. And also just because, well, I always want to talk about Nadia.

But before I can do that, I have to talk about a few other things first.

(This is going to be niche and also super self-indulgent, but it’s my blog, so who cares. Note that because of what both Hadestown and the Earthborn background entail, this is going to get slightly political. But again, it’s my blog, so who cares.)

Generally speaking, Mass Effect has an issue with downplaying trauma. Ashley, Tali, Garrus, and James all go through the traumatic experience of being sole (or almost sole) survivors. Tali goes through this twice, because the comics show that before she even met Shepard she lost the team she’d been traveling with. (And that’s not even counting the fact she also loses a chunk of her team on Freedom’s Progress. They use this trope with her a lot.) Liara loses her mother in the first game and she has almost no reaction. Shepard dies in the beginning of the second game and spends the rest joking about it, with very few opportunities to express anything but humor over the situation.

People respond to trauma differently, and the game is also told primarily from Shepard’s point of view, so consequently we only see what Shepard sees. All of these characters likely grieved in private, and they definitely do carry scars (literal and figurative) from what they’ve gone through. But I also think that Mass Effect likes making characters go through objectively traumatic things without fully considering how someone might act coming out of it. In fairness, that’s the fun of fanfic, and I also do think everyone on the Normandy has some degree of experience in compartmentalizing because they simply don’t have the time to sit down with their feelings. (A lot of them are also just averse to doing this.)

But exploring that trauma is what I’m interested in the most, and that’s how I approached Nadia. Earthborn is my favorite background for that reason. It’s not a single event that’s shaped their life thereafter, but a sustained stressful environment they endure for years and only escape once they sign up with the Alliance. And in that regard, Nadia rather sees it as trading one cage for another, but that’s neither here nor there.

Like, to go back to Hadestown (I swear I’m not going to write Hadestown meta on this blog), “When the Chips are Down” is one of my favorite numbers because it so accurately describes Nadia’s response to poverty. “How can you expect me to care about another person and put their wellbeing above my own, when doing that will result in my own death? How can you expect me to trust another person, when that could result in my own death? How are you going to lecture me on having no morals when if I had prioritized morality, I never would have survived?” (This is something I love bouncing off Kaidan, but I’ll get to that later.)

In other words, and this is an incredibly obvious thing to say, poverty is traumatizing and violent. It is an incredibly violent thing to put another human being through, to make them worry for their basic safety, to live their day to day in a constant limbo of uncertainty that permeates every facet of their life. Will you be able to eat today? Will you be able to sleep in a safe environment? Can you trust this person you’ve never met? Will trusting them endanger what little safety you’ve managed to achieve? How much money do you have? How long can you make that money last? Where will you be tomorrow? How about the day after?

This is something that leaves its mark on anyone it touches. It’s hard enough for an adult to plan for the future when they don’t have the luxury of knowing how they’ll even survive the week; when you’re a child, and that sort of stress is all that you’ve known, how do you even imagine a better life when you’ve known nothing different?

Before I get any further, I want to pause for a moment. Something that’s always been curious to me are the codex entries for Earth. Here’s a portion of ME1′s codex:

Here’s a portion of ME3′s codex:

(Written transcripts of the complete codex entries at the links.)

In both of them, they talk about how humanity is in a new golden age. A lot of pollution and common diseases have been eliminated. The colonies have brought in more resources. There's even been some correction to the damage early climate change caused. Then the Fire Nation—I mean, Reapers, attacked and ruined all of this. Except, take a closer look at ME1′s codex:

“While every human enjoys longer and better life than ever, the gap between rich and poor widens daily. [...] Less fortunate regions have not progressed beyond 20th century technology, and are often smog-choked, overpopulated slums.”

This seems incompatible with the idea of Earth being in a golden age. How can Earth be thriving if the class disparity is growing, not narrowing? How can Earth be thriving if entire swaths are still "smog-choked” and using centuries old outdated technology?

It’s not incompatible if the idea is that Earth has entered a golden age only for the ones who can afford it. And this is the reality Earthborn Shepards were raised in: the idea that their suffering is an unimportant, insignificant underbelly to an otherwise “prospering” homeworld.

So, resuming with that in mind: the way Nadia sees it is that to allow poverty to exist is an inherent societal failure that reflects on the government. This is why Nadia has no loyalty to the Alliance, and why she doesn’t trust them. This is why she subsequently has no loyalty to the Council, and why she doesn’t trust them, either. It doesn’t matter that the Alliance and the Council weren’t personally responsible for her childhood, because they’re still governments. She knows that governments will lie and exploit and allow for people like her to fall through the cracks if it will benefit them. She knows they will broadcast only the best of what they have to offer while conveniently pretending people like her don’t exist.

Like, personal politics aside, as shown above with the codex entries, this is just...canon. And Thane’s loyalty highlights poverty on the Citadel through Mouse and the concept of “duct rats,” so we know that it exists there, too. How the Council presumably feels about poverty on their station is outlined if you speak to Avina on the Citadel in the second game:

AVINA: Asari futurists believe poverty cannot be eliminated without “cornucopia” technology, which will create anything the user desires. Such technology is unknown outside science fiction.

Essentially: yeah, unfortunately, poverty exists on the station, but what can you do? Believing poverty is avoidable is actually utopian and therefore unrealistic, sorry! 

But when you meet Anoleis on Noveria as Earthborn, he can literally tell you poverty doesn’t exist on Sur’Kesh. (And sure, he could be lying, and we have no proof either way. It doesn’t erase the fact that, at the very least, the existence of widespread poverty is something that even a corrupt and money embezzling salarian thinks is an easy jab.)

ANOLEIS: My homeworld is clean. Poverty is non-existent. If you take some perverse pride in that overheated, acid-washed slum, that is your business.

There’s nothing about the Alliance and poverty that I know of¹, which makes sense considering the main branch of the Alliance we see throughout the games is its military branch. There are still plenty of instances in the trilogy where the Alliance does exploit the vulnerable, or attempts to cover up their self-inflicted shortcomings. An obvious one is with Kaidan and Conatix; Kaidan literally tells you the Alliance is the one who “made mistakes.” That in their haste, they allowed a man to brutalize children for the sake of research. And when it backfired, they sealed the documents and pretended it never happened.

UNC: The Negotiation is one of my favorite ME1 missions for this reason, too—it highlights a part of the Alliance the series doesn’t really focus on otherwise. Darius tells you that the entire reason he’s operating in the region at all is because the Alliance is the one who set him up there. 

DARIUS: You see this gun? This is your gun. Your military set me up here, and now it wants to pretend it doesn’t know me! But I know the truth. The Alliance needed me here! So treat me with the respect I deserve!

SHEPARD: You said we set you up. Did the Alliance give you weapons?

DARIUS: After the batarians were driven out of the Verge, the Alliance wanted to stabilize the region. I had the strongest syndicate in the area. They gave me the weapons and money I needed to take over.

After the mission, Hackett implies the entire reason he sent renegade Shepard to cover a diplomatic negotiation is because he expected and wanted them to kill Darius, because he was now more trouble than he was worth.

HACKETT: I’m sorry that you were unable to negotiate with Darius peacefully. His death is regrettable. Nevertheless, the resulting chaos will create a power vacuum that makes future raids upon our miners unlikely.

SHEPARD: You didn’t think I’d negotiate with him. You wanted me to kill him.

HACKETT: Sometimes extreme measures must be taken to ensure humanity’s safety. Or did you think you were the only one willing to break the rules to get the job done?

(Link, so you can watch the mission yourself.)

None of this is me saying the Council and the Alliance have no redeemable features whatsoever, or that they have never contributed positively to galactic wellbeing. It’s just me citing instances in canon that support why Nadia has the opinion she does of them, and why she’s not exactly incorrect in having them. 

So, to loop this back around to Kaidan? As I said, he’s not a stranger to government-level negligence. But Kaidan had a much different reaction than Nadia did, and this is something that absolutely fascinates her once she finds out.

Before that, though: the two of them don’t really hit it off in the beginning—though they’re both still professional—and this is mainly due to Nadia being, well, Nadia. She is not a people person and she never tries to be, which consequently makes her off-putting to most people. On her end, she’s generally unimpressed and uninterested in the people around her. She sees a lot of them as puzzles to be solved and then to move on from, or threats to assess.² The rare times someone does pique her interest enough to act on it, she still prefers to not linger around for long. So, you know, just general unhealthy behavior.

So, Eden Prime is illuminating for them both. Like, on Kaidan’s end: Nadia comes off as callous. She doesn’t care about the colonists, she doesn’t care about Jenkins’ death. On Nadia’s end: Kaidan comes off as naive. How has he been a marine for this long and she has to tell him to suck it up after someone dies? (This is one of the reasons why she didn’t want to work with regular marines again; in my canon, Anderson had to needle her³ into accepting the Normandy position.)

But the truth of it is that the reason Nadia comes off as callous is because she’s thoroughly desensitized. Like, when you grow up poor, on the streets, and in a gang? You’re both witnessing and being put through a lot of traumatizing situations. Akuze, of course, only adds onto this. There’s this one dialogue option in the beginning of the second game when Miranda and Jacob are assessing Shepard’s memory, and while Nadia doesn’t take this option in canon, it is how she feels:

JACOB: You enlisted, and you survived a thresher maw attack that wiped out the rest of your team. Do you remember that?

SHEPARD: Yeah, I remember it. Everyone screaming, gunfire, blood everywhere. I was the only one focused on survival.

Paragon Shepard focuses entirely on the other marines: how they were their friends, how something like that can destroy you if you let it.

Renegade Shepard barely thinks of anyone else at all. There were fifty other marines on Akuze, and renegade Shepard thinks they survived simply because they were the only one focused on it. For Nadia, that’s because that’s what her entire life has already been until that point.

Look, there are a lot of different ways to play renegade; it runs a much larger gamut than paragon, in my opinion. Nadia is more of a neutral renegade. She’s not particularly bigoted, just dispassionate and apathetic��. She resorts to violence and intimidation because it’s the easiest way to control her surroundings, not because she thinks what she’s doing is particularly righteous⁵. This can get brought up in Samara’s loyalty when talking with Morinth:

MORINTH: Violence is the surest expression of power.

SHEPARD: Violence is a means to an end. Power is that end.

Like, Nadia is a person who’s had to live a life surrounded by violence, not because it’s what she initially chose, but because it was repeatedly inflicted on her. She didn’t have the luxury of nursing her compassion and generosity, or of prioritizing morality. Those things would’ve gotten her killed. What she focused on instead was survival: the best way to survive, the easiest way to survive, the way that consistently ensured her own safety. This meant violence, and in order to survive, she became very good at inflicting violence.

That’s what I meant when I said Nadia thinks she traded one cage for another: the Alliance wasn’t freedom in the truest sense; she’s still doing what she ultimately would’ve done if she had remained with the Reds⁶. She’s just doing it with government approval and a steadier paycheck. She knows she’s still being used, and it’s only who’s using her that’s changed. All that’s to say, she isn’t an N7 ranked infiltrator because she feels strongly about protecting Alliance space and dirtying her hands to do it. She’s an N7 ranked infiltrator because it’s simply what she’s good at.

One of my favorite renegade lines in the entire trilogy is during Thane’s loyalty because it perfectly highlights Nadia’s philosophy on her situation:

SHEPARD: Your father and I have killed a lot of people. You haven’t. There’s no reason you should start.

To Nadia, her life is what it is because of the circumstances she was raised in and the decisions she made in response to that. She doesn’t deflect blame for the sort of person she’s become; she holds herself the correct amount of responsible.

She kills people for the Alliance, she kills people for the Council, she kills people for Cerberus. Other Shepards might dress it up differently when death is unavoidable: “it’s a shame, but it was necessary,” said along with the appropriate amount of guilt. Or: they were a terrorist, they were a mercenary, they forced my hand. To Nadia, it’s all death, and there’s no inherent difference between killing someone “to protect humanity” (read: protect the Alliance’s interests) or killing someone “to protect the galaxy” (read: protect the Council’s interests) and simply killing someone in a situation paragon Shepards would deem unnecessary. And to Nadia, if you haven’t had to live a life like this—why start? You still have other options. Use them.

One thing I love about Hadestown is how it discusses the simple accessibility of being able to live your life, let alone live it virtuously. Like whether or not I agree with that, it’s an interesting thing to explore, and it gets brought up multiple times:

“When you’re hungry and there ain’t enough to go round / ain’t no length to which a girl won’t go / [...] and sometimes you think / you would do anything / just to fill your belly full of food” 

“See how the vipers and vultures surround you / and they’ll take you down, they’ll pick you clean / if you stick around such a desperate scene / see, people get mean when the chips are down” 

“Aim for the heart / shoot to kill / if you don’t do it, then the other one will / [...] nobody’s righteous / nobody’s proud / nobody’s innocent / now that the chips are down” 

“Go ahead and lay the blame / talk of virtue / talk of sin / wouldn’t you have done the same? / in her shoes / in her skin / you can have your principles when you’ve got a belly full” 

“I did what I had to do / that’s what they did too” 

“Some flowers bloom / where the green grass grows / our praise is not for them / but the ones who bloom in the bitter snow” 

Again, I’m not going to meta about Hadestown⁷ and the precise context for these verses are different in that canon (for starters, Eurydice never kills anyone), but the concept is similar: when you’re poor, you’re often driven to desperate measures to survive. Sometimes that means stepping over other people, or otherwise ignoring how your actions will affect them. Often, this is to your own detriment. And it’s really, really easy to cast judgment on the poor people driven to these decisions when you were never in their position. It’s really easy to just live when you’re not in a situation where you had to worry about your survival on a day-by-day basis.

I bring up Hadestown because it’s a nice conduit to explain Nadia’s issues. She’s not renegade because she thinks she’s on a crusade and anyone who gets in her way is acceptable collateral damage. She’s renegade because her survival depended on it, and as Sha’ira points out, it’s what has allowed her continual survival:

“I see your skin, tough as the scales of any turian. Unyielding. A wall between you and everyone else. But it protects you, makes you strong. That strength is what kept you alive when everyone else around you was dying. You alone survived. You will continue to survive.”

For her to survive her childhood, she had to step over other people and put herself first. This meant not allowing herself to get close to other people, and to not care about them beyond what they can give her to ensure her own survival.

And this is why Kaidan interests her. Kaidan’s response to brain camp wasn’t to minimize the importance of his morality, it was to double down on it. (Yes, partially to his own detriment, but that’s a different post.) His response wasn’t to distrust others, because after all, one of his defining characteristics is his compassion. It’s just that Kaidan’s inclined to troubleshoot everything, even his interactions with other people. He might be “once burned, twice shy” but he’s not going to be “once burned, byedon’tfollowmeI’mgoingtorelyonlyonmyselfforever.”

Like, he still wants to help...

SHEPARD: So why are you telling me this? Are you saying I’m cutting corners somewhere?

KAIDAN: I’m saying...it’s probably inevitable that we’ll have to. And when that happens, I want to help you. When someone important to you is up on a ledge, you help them. Keep them from mistakes better made by a kid.

SHEPARD: I’m a big girl, Alenko. I don’t need your help.

KAIDAN: I didn’t say you needed it, I said I’m offering it.⁸

...even though his desire to help (because he cares, because he thinks it’s the right thing to do) is precisely what led to the culmination of his trauma.

KAIDAN: He hurt Rahna. Broke her arm. She reached for a glass of water instead of pulling it biotically. She just wanted a drink without getting a nosebleed, you know? Like an idiot, I stood up. Didn’t know what I was gonna do...just, something.

He figures out what went wrong and tries to avoid repeating that mistake. He doesn’t just stop trying at all. He doesn’t lose his faith in having faith.

It’s antithetical to how Nadia responded to her own circumstances, and she can’t quite process the logic behind...why you would be this way. It’s not that she expects everyone to be like her. She’s seen a lot of different people traumatized, and consequently a lot of different ways people have reacted to trauma. It’s more like: “fool me once” is enough for Nadia. There are no second chances after that. She sees no point in ruminating over why something went wrong. Just accept that it did. (Or don’t, but never think about it, anyway.) She thinks living any other way is akin to, I don’t know, laying down in a snake pit right after one just bit you. Stupid, in other words.

(I should also clarify: this is mainly when it concerns people. She will troubleshoot when it comes to things like tech.)

Like, I’ve joked about this to a friend, but when Nadia first reads Kaidan’s file⁹ her impression is: alright, boy scout. Then she actually meets him and she thinks her assessment was more or less spot on, and she loses whatever vestiges of interest his file did manage to leave despite its otherwise boy-scouty-ness. 

But the thing is, Kaidan isn’t naive. He chooses to have the faith he has in the Alliance despite what they’ve put him through. He’s acutely aware that the Alliance is capable of mistakes, because he’s been on the receiving end of it—yet he still wants to help and feels that as a biotic, the Alliance is his best avenue to do that:

KAIDAN: I’m not looking for “the dream.” I just want to do some good. See what’s out here. 

KAIDAN: Commander, I thought real hard about how to use my talents. When I swore the oath to defend the Alliance, it wasn’t on a whim.

Like, Nadia thinks Kaidan giving his loyalty to the Alliance is a stupid reaction, yes (in fairness, Nadia thinks loyalty to organizations in general is stupid), but it still fascinates her precisely because Kaidan has some semblance of an idea of what the Alliance’s negligence can and has caused, and yet he still continues to put his faith in them. Kaidan hasn’t had the easiest life¹⁰, but instead of closing himself off, his reaction was to give the Alliance a second chance, to still place his faith in others, all because he still wanted to do some good.

It’s not what Nadia has done, and she can’t say she understands it, but realizing that Kaidan isn’t the ignorant boy scout she pegged him as goes a long way when it comes to the development of their relationship. (For instance: it allows the relationship to develop at all, lmao.) And the development of their relationship is one of the early domino pieces in a long line of dominoes that sets Nadia down a much healthier path.¹¹

~

¹ We do know, however, that the Alliance does offer to pay college/university tuition in exchange for serving with them in some capacity, thanks to conversations with Traynor and Ashley.

² You know that one Iron Bull banter with Cole where he talks about how one of the first things he does when he meets a new person is to figure out the best way to kill them? Yeah, that’s Nadia.

³ This is because Anderson’s brain is huge, and he understood no one can forever live life the way Nadia was living hers unless they’re a death seeker.

⁴ One of the most in character renegade lines in the trilogy is, once again, during Thane’s loyalty (a big reason why it’s one of my favorites: it’s really, really good Nadia content) when you choose the first renegade check during the interrogation. Shepard sounds so bored, so matter-of-fact. That’s the kind of renegade Nadia is.

⁵ This is probably worse to some people compared to “hard” renegade, since at least “hard” renegade can genuinely believe in what they’re doing, even if others consider it evil. Fortunately, I don’t care.

⁶ I don’t really think she killed anyone during her time with the Reds. (Or, if she did, it was only one person and it would’ve been near the end of her time with them.) I think they primarily used her for cybercrime. She still would’ve witnessed and been expected to participate in a lot of beatings, etc. And, as previously said, had she stayed with the Reds I do think this would’ve ultimately progressed into her killing for them, too.

⁷ Though if you enjoy criticisms of capitalism, an exploration into the traumatizing effects of poverty, and an ultimately hopeful message that meaningful change is possible even when everyone is conditioned to believe it’s not, I recommend giving it a listen. It’s easy to follow along through audio alone, but you can find a low quality bootleg pretty easily, too. (Be warned that some of the songs will differ from the official album recording, though.)

⁸ If the remaster brings better lighting to Kaidan’s little hub area and doesn’t hideously whitewash him like in ME3, this is absolutely one of the first things I’m going to gif because it’s one of my favorite moments in the entire romance.

⁹ Nadia reads the files of everyone she’s going to work with, not because she’s particularly interested in them, but because she wants to know what level of incompetency to expect.

¹⁰ Unrelatedly: ask me about my headcanon about how disgustingly rich Kaidan’s family is, and how much Nadia wants to kill him when she finds this out.

¹¹ This is absolutely not saying love, romantic or otherwise, cures her lifetime worth of unpacked trauma.

[bellamygateoldblog]

It does make sense for Clarke to not want to tell Skaikru the truth in S4 from her experiences. First her dad tries to tell the truth. He's executed and she's imprisoned soon to be executed. Then she tells the truth (what she thought was the truth) about Murphy. He almost dies and Charlotte does die. I really don't think she wanted Murphy dead for killing Wells just held accountable. And then in S2 when she lies about Octavia and Tondc everything goes okay. Both Bellamy and Octavia are still alive her plan worked. So in her experience telling the truth ends in failure and lying ends in success. Doesn't mean it was right but it makes sense for her to think it was the best plan

i agree that's probably how she's functioning (but kane agreed? who experienced the culling that was the result of an almost identical situation to this? what's his excuse?)

(i will say that first one occurred when she was under someone else’s power- but here she's The leader of skaikru right now, the most powerful one in camp, in control of the guards. her imprisonment and her father’s execution were a result of the goverment’s reaction to the truth being revealed, not the people, as raven points out in the episode.)

(and about the lying about TonDC = successful plan, clarke let all those people die in TonDC and then found out she should never have trusted lexa or her advice in the first place, her plan blew up in her face, she still ended up committing genocide (along with losing the respect of everyone around her) when she could've done that the moment she first tried escaping. after lexa’s betrayal she was essentially right back to square one. not that it’s her fault she was betrayed...but i wouldn’t call her alliance with lexa a plan gone right...i mean did she even really need the grounders at all to rescue the 48?...no!)

im also aware that after she saw a group of people in skaikru react to finn the way the deliquents reacted to murphy (then they later did again with niylah (rightfully so imo) so they do Do That).

my point isn’t whether she thinks it’s a good plan, it’s that it just straight up isn’t. and nobody challenges her. they all just let this teenage girl rule over them while the chancellor (who they didn’t vote for) is fuck knows where.

this isn't a group of teenage criminals, it's a group of mostly adults, a lot qualified and experienced who have been problem solving longer than she's been alive. this isn't thousands of grounders at the gates about to attack them any minute, it’s an impending event. and she’s complaining she doesn’t know what to do or how to save them...what in the world was stopping her getting together a closed group of people to discuss ideas? what was stopping raven doing so in secret? or monty? (i think we could technically explain that one ourselves by looking at how clarke treated jasper just over him *maybe* telling people but not actually doing so, but it would've been something more interesting for the show to explore.)

like it's a stupid unproductive decision, period.

on one hand we have raven, monty and jasper pointing out how this has come full circle where she's now become everything she once rejected (and this is really interesting to see play out), she’s the one electrocuting and imprisoning someone for threatening to expose the truth, and right in s1 there was an entire arc that led to the leaders realising that hiding information from the people doesn't help or protect them, but having faith in their people appealed to their humanity and ended up helping them all. they were proven wrong in s1 with the culling. just as i do think the writing is telling us all s4 she’s in the wrong. on the other hand we have bellamy, kane and jaha validating her (all of them linked to the culling, funnily enough).

she isnt only hiding something here, she’s lying. them finding out she’s been lying would’ve been a disaster. it proves she has no integrity as a leader and thus is someone they can't and shouldn't trust to protect them (as we and they both later find out is completely 100% true when she surrenders the bunker and lets them all die).

but she’s been sacrificing her own people and their needs and dragging them into coalitions they never consent to from afar in which they get very little out of besides a promise that she won’t wipe them out but is someone who has already proven she, who has been slaughtering their children since the day they got down there, can and will go back on her word and thus can at any minute decide to kick them out and leave them worse off than they started, and who is seen as weak by her own people and openly unwanted in power by another clan- this entire goddamn time!

this was a lot of rambling no one asked for but im watching some episodes and i just wanna make it known clarke has consistently proven herself a bad leader who not only doesn’t respect her people, but can’t keep them safe.

[nymphl]

In the General’s Bed - Regency!Hux x Reader - Ch. 4 - To play a General

A/N - Hi, darlings! xD As promised, here I am to update chapter 4 of ITGB. This one has one of my fav cliffs ever. Sorry I do love cliffhangers xD I also quite like how Hux and Reader try to understand each other a little better here, but they’re people of their time and if couples aren’t known for talking to each other nowadays, what can we expect from people from 1815, right? Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter! 

Story Summary: The General is cornered… Upon returning from a successful campaign in Battle of Waterloo, Armitage Hux knows he has no excuses left; he must produce the much-needed heir. The problem is, when the two of you parted five years ago, it was not in the best of terms. Now, he may not find his wife, you, so willing as he first expected, nor keen on taking part in any of his political games. [Hux x Reader – Hux x You – Regency AU].

Warnings for the entire story: Will contain at times; graphic violence, sex, drugs and manipulation, coarse language and OOCness.

AO3 Tags: Regency Era; Alternate Universe; Alternate Story; Alternate Universe - Historical; Arranged Marriage; Politics; War; Napoleonic Wars; England - 1815; Married Couple; OOCness; Smut

Wordcount: 6687.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER *** NEXT CHAPTER

“MY LADY,” THE GOVERNESS BEGAN, HER TONE DID NOTHING TO HIDE HER NERVOUNESS. SHE WAS SHAKING. “HIS LORDSHIP ASKED IF YOU WOULD GIVE HIM THE PLEASURE OF YOUR COMPANY IN THE BREAKFAST TABLE.”

In other words, Hux demanded your presence. Right. Now.

You smiled in spite of yourself. You would have laughed but thought that maybe it the governess would think you were laughing at her — which was also the case, but not only nor the main cause. Bringing your cup of tea to your lips, you savored it as if you had never tasted anything so good.

“You may tell him that I appreciate his invitation, but I shall decline.”

There was a moment of silence, which you used to drink more of your tea before you lost control of yourself and laughed out loud. Then a sharp intake of breath and finally a confused, “My Lady?”

“That will be all.”

She bowed, her face contorted into a grimace of both fear and… disapproval? You did not know, and you did not care. Before she could leave, however, you said, “I see that your uniform is in… adequate condition today.”

You could have asked if Rae said something, but you thought that she would have more than enough to handle as soon as she told Hux you would not be joining him.

She blushed, visibly embarrassed with your words.

“Thank you, Your Ladyship.”  

As soon as the door was closed, you put your cup on the tray and brought both of your hands to your face. Your head hit the pillow and you finally laughed. If not for having the tray placed over your legs, you would have kicked the mattress as well.

What a day!

What. A. Day.

By now, your beloved husband probably had finished reading The Times and mainly the gossip column — only that could explain why he asked for your company when he knew you were dismissed of having breakfast at the table.

As a Marquess and a married Lady, you were actually encouraged to have breakfast alone, secluded in your own chambers. It denoted your nobility and importance in a household. And while you thought that was simply old fashioned bullshit, it never came so in hand.

You laughed again as you thought about Hux’s face right now.

Did he yell at the governess?

Did he hit the table with his fists?

Did his face get as red as his hair?

Ah, you would simply love to be in his company right now.

No. 

Actually, you would give everything you had to be a small fly, so you could spy on him without denouncing yourself.

That would be… just awesome.

You laughed some more and concentrated on your breakfast, your eyes on the world beyond those windows. Albeit closed, the curtains were opened and you could see the sun shining outdoors.

What a lovely day.

You closed your eyes and inhaled your tea. It was warm — you bet as warm as the beautiful sunrays coming through the window, it was a pity you would not go on a walking with Lux that morning.

He loved playing outdoors, but after what you did — and mainly after Poe’s funeral — you thought that was not a smart decision.

Again, how did Hux react?

The waiting was killing you.

You counted to ten, expecting him to come banging on your door. He did not. But that was to be expected. He demanded you — with polite words, of course, but that was still an order — to come to him and explain yourself — you defied him — and he would not go to you. Unless he wanted to be seen as weak he would stay exactly where he was.

Clever.

That was a very childish power play and neither of you wanted to give up. Neither of you would give up. Neither would be seen as weak.

You expected him to avoid your chambers till night, when he would have to prepare for the Ball hosted by His Grace, the Duke of Wellington, in honor of the great and well-regarded Commander Poe Dameron.

Honestly, if not for having Lady Organa — and Rae, if you could convince her to join you; she simply hated such events — you would have declined his invitation. The man was getting ahead of himself. A Ball in honor of his Commander a day after his burial? As much as Poe was a lively person, you viewed the Duke’s action as reckless and not so thought-out.

A small smile crept to your lips…

Well, even more reason to go and put a convenient smile to your face. If the Royal Family would not meet their General — as responsible for the unbelievable victory over the French as their Major General — you would make sure they heard of him.

You wondered if after his thunderous reputation after the Battle of Waterloo he talked about politics with his wife — he probably did not. There was word out there that his marriage to Catherine Wellesley was highly unsatisfactory, with the Duke pursuing other partners in broad daylight — and who were his political advisers. They were probably all old men and lacked the necessary qualities to play the politic game in the Ton.

A sigh left your lips as you thought that Hux was not that very different. Although he did not consult with old rags — he had Rae Sloane, but Rae knew about Wars, not about the Ton — he did not talk to you. It was beyond frustrating!

Well… You just had to prove him wrong.

To prove them wrong.

It was past lunch — this time you had to go downstairs, but Hux was locked in his study in what seemed to be a very important meeting with Rae Sloane and a manager recently arrived from Dublin — when you finally crossed paths with him.

You would have turned away, before he noticed you — and declared he had won your little, petty competition — but stopped at hearing his voice.

He was in the drawing room with Lux. To your complete despair, he was reading a story to the boy. Reading the same fable you did when you caught him faking illness.

If you did not think him utterly ridiculous, you would have felt some anger creeping through your veins.

And judging by Lux’s confused face, that was certainly not the fable he had been reading before you entered the drawing room. That made your need to smile even more noticeable.

Ridiculous.

And he dared calling you childish.

The smile quickly died in your mouth. If he still believed you were lying — not that you vehemently denied and dismissed his romantics about being Lux’s fathers last night, actually you merely waved him off and said that he would never know the answer for sure —, he would be very mad after tonight.

Well, he would be very mad at you for meddling in his business — he already was — but that had to be done. The announcement over Lux’s adoption on The Times was necessary. Actually, vital to his political career.

By now, the Royal Family must have heard of him. If not about his successful campaign in the Napoleonic Wars, at least about his courageous and heartfelt act after a brother in arms suddenly and tragically passed away.

You would make sure of that.

However, your actions may have seen as another of your childish attempts at driving him away from whom he thought to be his son and heir. Now you regretted your answer. If you told him — for real — the whole story he would understand, wouldn’t he?

When Lux saw you, his smile brightened, and he disentangled himself from your husband and ran to you.

A small smile touched your lips as you bowed slightly and patted his ginger hair lovingly. He giggled when you tapped his little nose.

“Mama, would you like to hear a story?”

You even opened your mouth to reply, but Hux closed the book within his right hand immediately, indicating he would by no means read you a story — perhaps another fable on why lying was a bad thing. Perhaps you should read some on why he should trust his family.

Trust you.

If you said Lux was not his son it was because he was not.

Period.

What was so difficult about that?

You barely realized you forgot to give Lux an answer and was instead glaring at Hux. The boy pulled the skirts of your black dress and asked, his brows furrowed, “Mama?”

“Oh, yes, darling,” you replied with a warm smile. “I would love to, it is, if Lord Hux would be so kind to read us another fable.”

“He was reading one about how the horse…” He touched his lips with his index finger, a pensive expression taking his childish features.

“The Horse that lost its Liberty,” Hux completed for him, opening the book in the same page of before.

This time, you were the one who furrowed your brows.

“Why?”

“I love horses!” Lux said in his place, his tone as eager and enthusiastic as ever.

All traces of that crying boy from last night were gone. He did not look as a child who had just lost his father. In fact, it seemed he did not even remember Poe and his importance in his life — which was not that great, you reminded yourself.

And Lux is just four.

Just yesterday you were telling yourself that a child his age had problems grasping the concepts of life and death, you could simply not expect him to keep on crying all day long. That was too much to ask of a child.

Besides, you loved when he smiled.

Just not when Hux was the reason.

You glared at your husband again. He shrugged, and the shadow of a smile tugged the corner of his lips. He seemed very pleased with himself for again making Lux more interested in him than yourself.

How you hated him.

“Believe it or not, Lady Hux, one can read fables without disciplinary thoughts in mind as well.”

You bit your bottom lip, not very keen on giving the answer he deserved in front of Lux.

“Will you read for us, my Lord?” you said instead.

He eyed you with those bluish eyes of his filled with some feeling you could not quite put your finger on, but deduced he was having some fun at your expense.

Lux took you by the hand and approached the couch, where they were both sitting before you arrived and took his seat between you and Hux. The boy leaned against you, as he usually did when you read him a story, and placed your hand on his hair, so you could run your fingers through his ginger locks. You kissed the top of his head and inhaled his sweet scent.

His innocent and seemingly subconscious action brought Hux’s eyes to him, eyeing him with renewed interest.

Bothered with his stare, you cleared your throat and glared at him. He glared back, and his voice was finally heard in the so far silent drawing room.    

“Will you tell him the truth?” Rae Sloane asked as if that was nothing as she the tightened your corset to its maximum.

You gasped and placed one hand over the mirror positioned in the middle of your dressing room to balance yourself. After spending the entire day reading agreements and taking Hux’s young manager, Dopheld Mitaka, to a walk in Hyde Park, she dismissed your Lady’s Maid, stating she would help you herself tonight.

Not very keen on picking an unnecessary fight — even if Rae was just horrible with your hair —, and actually eager to be in her company, you accepted her help — but you would do your hair yourself or just call your Lady’s Maid back. Rae was not touching a strand of your hair. Although proficient with the most complicated hairdos, she always left you with a bugging headache whenever she got near your head.

Right now, she was leaving you breathless.

“Gods, Rae, I can’t breathe!”        

“You have gained weight,” she changed topic as if her last question meant nothing. And in fact, given the current situation, you would say it didn’t.

“I can’t be pregnant,” you replied, fanning yourself with both hands. “We haven’t even…” You bit your bottom lip. Why were you telling her that? “You know… Properly… Well, yes and no.”

She cast a hard glance at you through the mirror. You felt all color leaving your face.

“I am not interested in your intimate life with the General, (Y/N).”

You breathed through your nose and laughed shortly.

“General…” You shook your head, it made her pull even tighter the corset strings. “It’s funny when you call him like that. It’s feels like you’re not his—

“I am not,” she interrupted you, tying the knot firmly in place. She moved away, searching for the skirt of your clothing and you finally breathed slowly. “There is a reason why I never had children, (Y/N). I am not his mother, as you are not Lux’s mother.”

Well, you told yourself that every single night before sleeping and every single day just after you woke up, but hearing those words leaving someone’s lips — someone you considered dearly — in such a crude manner always hurt you.

They felt like a slap to your face.

“You love him as such…” you whispered and bit your bottom lip. Any chance you had of saving a little of your dignity was long gone now.

She gestured for you to stay still as she adjusted the buttons of your dress and smoothed its skirt. It was a gorgeous evening gown; one you prided yourself on owning. With its bluish, black and white colors, it was surely a different piece of what everyone paraded within in the Ton.

Perhaps black was the more appropriate color, but you bet the Duke’s wife would be wearing such color and you refused to be compared to someone’s else — even if someone of higher position in the Ton.     

“My feelings have nothing to do with this mess you’ve created.”

Again, a slap would have hurt less.

“I know nothing of the Ton, (Y/N), as you well know. But let me tell you something, I do know your husband and he will not forgive you if you play him. Tell him the truth. Tonight.”

You bit your bottom lip.

What did she expect you to say? Your statement to the newspaper should be enough. If Lord and Lady Hux were adopting Poe Dameron’s son, it was because the child was not his!

“Could you do it yourself?” you asked, only to be met with a hard glare through the mirror. “You know he listens to you far more than the listens to me.”

She took her time to give you a reply and you feared for your dignity again — it is, if it still existed? When she did not, she left you agape.

“I am calling your Lady’s Maid to help you with your hair.”

If you had to use a word to describe this night, it would be hypocritical. The very same feeling of yesterday at the funeral returned.

No one was there to celebrate Poe’s life or his importance as a Commander in the War — most people there did not even know about their soldiers. On the contrary, they were eager to strengthen their alliances with the Duke and maybe get a closer look at the General and you.

At least you made a far more striking pair than the Duke and his wife, that’s for sure. As expected, everyone was dressing black and your colors contrasted to those present in the Ballroom.

The Duchess was certainly one to set fashion tendencies and every guest expected her to dress black — and she did not disappoint them and neither you. Once again, you were right. People in Ton were so predictable it hurt.

And it was boring.

You cast a glance at Hux over the shoulder of your current partner. A traditional Ball — even one taking place after a burial — required good wine and brandy, music and dances. After having dancing with your husband twice, you had two more partners.

One of them was the hateful Agent Terex — you did your best to seal your lips and prevent yourself from giving him a piece of your mind. The other was Captain Solo — he was known to be a Pirate in the past and whisked you away from a very displeased Lord Terex. Lady Organa’s husband was a sarcastic man who hated Balls and anything even remotely related to the Ton — which was actually refreshing. It was funny how a popular Duchess fell in love with him — everyone knew their marriage to be one of love, no sane woman would marry Han Solo, a poor sailor — after he decided to leave his days as a pirate behind him — the best in the whole world, or so he said.   

Their son, Ben Solo did not come with them, which seemed to please Hux greatly. You would have to know what happened between them back in the War, it seemed to affect their relationship significantly.

Lady Organa and the Duchess Catherine both congratulated you on your and Hux’s decision to adopt Poe’s son. According to the Duchess, the poor, little thing needed a family more than ever now. She even said she would adopt him herself — in spite of the fact she had two children already — if no one stepped up to take care of him.

You felt your blood leaving from your face as you forced yourself to smile and hold your tongue. Part of you was taken by an almost uncontrollable fury as she cogitated the possibility of taking Lux to herself. You never needed Rae Sloane so much in your entire life! At least Lady Organa was there and changed topics, complimenting you for your dress.

She wore white and orange — Poe’s favorite colors.

Now you were dancing with the Duke of Wellington himself. Hux’s eyes were on you as the musicians stopped playing the melody of the traditional Strasbourgeoise Cotillion and the tune of a waltz began.

A few older ladies gasped — Lady Organa was certainly not one of them — for waltz was a popular dance in France, people in the British Empire still considered it too bold — scandalous even. It was certainly a dance that demanded too much of body closeness.

After the first steps, everyone was forced to stop. Agent Terex was close to the musicians, hitting his goblet of champagne with a spoon he probably got from the dinner offered earlier.

He cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice sounding much louder in the now silent Ballroom. “I propose a toast…”

Before he could continue, every footman filled waiting cups with the finest champagne or gave goblets to those who did not have any.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you waited for his words. That was definitely not what nor whom you had in mind when you thought about the announcement tonight.

It was impossible not to notice the Duke was tense as well.

You searched for Hux’s eyes, but he was not looking at you this time.

“For Commander Dameron.” He finished, raising his goblet.

Everyone in the Ballroom mimicked him. The Duke relaxed visibly.

“And…” Agent Terex continued, his voice denouncing how much he had drank — as if his terrible breath was not enough. “I would like to congratulate Lord Hux and Lady Hux…”

Definitely not what you were expecting — nor how you were expecting…

“…for their empathetic and wise decision to adopt Commander Dameron’s son.”

His last words were followed by a minute of silence — in which your husband finally looked at you. Your heart galloped in your chest in rhythmless beats — and then everyone repeated For Lord and Lady Hux.

A few guests, having their crystal goblets placed over trays the footmen were carrying around, even applauded the announcement.

With the help of Captain Solo, Agent Terex left the small area and the musicians resumed playing. The melody filled the Ballroom and the couples were once again dancing around you and the Duke.

He bowed dutifully in front of you and brought your gloved hand to a courteous kiss.

“It warms my heart to know such a young boy will be well cared for, my Lady.”

This time, you could not discern in his tone if he was being sincere or if that was just another mask. You narrowed your eyes, but there was no time to come to a conclusion, for Hux approached you, followed by the Duchess of Wellington.

The Duke slowly let go of your hand and instead offered his arm to his wife. A sigh of relief left you as soon as you saw them ready to leave you and your husband alone.

“We just hope—” the Duke began, his eyes fixed on Hux, “that he won’t be forgotten as soon as you finally bear Lord Hux his heir.”

With him positioned behind you, it was impossible to see his reaction — if he expressed any. Part of you expected such direct attack from the Duchess, but she seemed far politer than her husband. Another part of you tried to come up quickly with a response that would show he picked a fight with the wrong people, but Hux beat you to that. Taking your gloved hand between his and bringing it to his lips, he said,

“Your worries are groundless, Your Grace. Lady (Y/N)’s love for Lux is immensurable.” He placed a small kiss on your cheeks. “Now, if you are worried about heritage, then perhaps you should ask your own wife about her opinion.”

A small gasp left both you and the Duchess. The Duke’s face contorted in anger, but he remained silent. He would not risk his image over something that would have the entire Ton talking for weeks to come and the gossip columns in The Times making a fuss about next morning.

It did not mean you did not feel sorry for the poor woman. It was a truth universally acknowledged, that His Grace did not seek her anymore. Their marriage was one of convenience nowadays and even if she bore him two sons, everyone questioned their first offspring.

They departed in silence. Both you and Hux bowed dutifully. You had no idea how differently you could have acted. You shifted your attention to him, about to ask if he was ready to leave when he pulled you to him.         

“That was mean,” you said as soon as he placed his hand on your waist and directed your left to his shoulder. “Even for you.”

He did not give you an answer. Not that you expected one. You should scold him for saying such outrageous words to a Duke, nonetheless. And yet, you saw yourself thank him in your mind. Although you considered his reply disrespectful and even offensive, you could not blame him for defending you. After all, the Duke was the first to treat you as a mere offspring repository.

He saw that coming.

People would talk — he would talk — if Lord Hux did not defend the honor of his own wife.

Instead, you saw yourself saying, “I thought you were mad at me.”

There was another moment of silence as he guided you in light and fluid steps. He was a great dancer, you always thought that. Your heart always accelerated whenever he took you to the center of the Ballroom. As an adolescent, you would always watch him dancing with other ladies and get jealous of them for having his attention all to themselves.

In the shadows, you watched him and imagined yourself in their place, in his arms, dancing with him — you even dreamed of kissing him. It was with indecorous happiness — for no woman should take so much pleasure in such simplistic occasion — that you had your first dance with him when you debuted in the Season, when you were eighteen years old.

Seven years…

You were startled to realize so many years had gone by. After that dance, your life changed forever. With eighteen you had your first kiss with him. With nineteen you got engaged to him. With twenty, the two of you got married.

Touching his cheeks — a highly improper move that had guests all around you gasping —, you furrowed your brows. There was no time to say anything, for he began, 

“You fooled me.” His voice was cold; his eyes expressionless. “I must say I am impressed by your strategy.”

Brows still furrowed, you removed your hand from his face and moved it to his shoulder. He used that opportunity to bring you closer to him — the closeness between your bodies far more shocking for those people unused to such scandalous dances —, his mouth on your ear, so no one would hear his next words,

“You say you love Lux, but all you did recently was using him to improve your social position in the Ton.”

As if burned, you stopped dancing altogether and glared at him. If not for the guests all around you, you probably would have hit him right in the face.

Perhaps punched him.

You had never punched anyone, but the need was never as great as it was right now. Biting your bottom lip, you let your fingers slip from his hand.

His eyes were focused on yours as he ran his right hand over your face. The need to step back and get away from him was almost overwhelming but you held yourself in place.

“You say I have changed… But you are someone else entirely, (Y/N).” He ran his fingers over your bottom lip, it trembled slightly as the need to bite him — spite on him, cry because of him — took over you. “I expected so much more from you.”

When you finally found your voice, it was broken and hoarse. Your eyes were full of tears you did your best to cover.  

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Lord Hux.”

After you arrived from the Ball, you entered Lux’s bedroom and dismissed his tutoress. You expected him to be sleeping soundly, but he was wide awake. You sniffed and blinked twice to dissipate the need to cry.   

He was holding between his chubby fingers the very drawing that fell from your book when that very fateful day when Hux returned to your life.

And how you hated it.

Hated him.

Every ounce of love you felt for him was slowly dying whenever he addressed you with his cruel, unkind words.

You are a bad liar, a voice in your head said. Part of you knew that it only hurt — his words, his behavior, his coldness — because deep down — in the very bottom of your heart — you still loved him. Part of you tried to reassure you that you loved the man from the past. Not the man who came back from a successful campaign in Waterloo.

You shook your head and concentrated on Lux. He did not realize you were in his chambers. He was so engrossed with the drawing, he could not have seen a real horse trotting in front of him.   

It was Hux’s drawing. One he had made in one afternoon the two of you escaped to a picnic. Your lady in waiting was left behind — only to be harshly punished by your father later; that poor creature — and you found yourself alone in his company. As your father could not suspect any illicit nor lusty activity between you, Hux took his time to draw your horse.

Obviously, it did not prevent you from rolling in the grass — with you landing over him and wresting with him for such prized position — and kissing till your lips were aching and swollen.

Those were indeed happy days…

… and you could only regret that they were gone, and you were stuck with a control freak and pale shadow of the albeit melancholic, so very romantic man you had fallen in love with.

You recalled that afternoon as if it happened just yesterday. When the two of you were parting, he kissed your hand in a gentlemanly gesture in front of your father and handed him the proof of how well behaved while he was alone with you. In your fingers, though, there was a small paper with your face sketched and a small message written in a careless manner.

Soon, beloved.

Of that small sketch of your face there was nothing left. Your father made sure to rip it apart when he caught the two of you kissing in Hux’s study room — he had reasons to believe the worst; you were sitting over his desk and he was between your legs. His hair was disheveled and your hands were between his clothes, touching his chest. That was how far you went, but your father was sure you had disgraced yourself that day and it took you a while, and daily doses of humiliation extended to Hux as well, to prove him wrong. He tried to do the same to the other drawing, but you placed it in your clothes before he could get his hands on it.

Lux was holding this drawing close to his chest and looking at it with the innocent passion only a child could muster. 

You approached him and sat on his bed.  

“You really like him, don’t you?” you asked, running your fingers through his cheeks. It seemed to tickle him, for he giggled and slapped your hand gently away.

Offering your hand to him you helped him sit on the bed, you watched as he handed you the drawing as well, so you could place it on his bedside table.

He nodded his response.

The boy has a sweet tooth, he had said last night when the two of you talked in the dead of the night in each other’s arms. He likes toffee.

“Because he gives you sweets,” you tried, your voice a bit unsure.

His smile was so bright it could rival the very sun. Although you loved to know Lux could like someone like Hux instead of merely hating him, it worried you greatly that he could be hurt in the near future. For you knew for sure Hux did not know how to love or how to reciprocate anyone’s feelings.

He merely ‘liked’ Lux for now because he firmly believed to be his father. It was very convenient for him to father a son — the Royal Family would look kindly upon any man having a family. Once he believed you and accepted the truth, you doubted he would be so willing to give the boy even a sideway glance.

But his words…

…they mean nothing…

…they must…

You were conflicted. Part of you wanted to find excuses for his behavior — even if you knew there was none — and another part wanted to label him as Satan himself.

The mere thought made your heart break. Albeit strict, Armitage Hux was a man who exerted some sort of fascination over people. He was alluring. And people who came to know him, loved him easily. Rae Sloane, for one, did love him. Needless to mention your own feelings for the man… and now Lux loved him as well…   

Oh, Gods! You would kill Hux if he made your Little Lord suffer!

“Yes, and because he will give me his horse.” His high-pitched voice dragged you back to the present time.

You looked at him with widened eyes, surprise all written over your face.

“He will?”

Lux nodded. His smile easy on his face. He brought both hands to his eyes and rubbed them a few times.

“It’s time to sleep, Little Lord.” You helped him under the covers and ran your hands through his hair. “Actually, you should have slept hours ago.”

He shook his head.

Too tired, but too excited to give in to sleep.

So stubborn…

“He will teach me to ride too, Mama!”

His excitement seemed to die a bit as he yawned.

“When I get big and old.”

He focused his chestnut eyes on you and asked, his voice no more than a worried whisper, “will that take long?”

You laughed a bit and kissed his forehead.

“It will come soon enough, Little Lord.”

Sooner than I expect.

Or want.

You were returning to your chambers when you stopped in front of Rae’s bedroom and recalled her words.

Tell him the truth.

You bit your bottom lip and shook your head.

No.

You were not going to talk to him.

Not even if your life depended on it.

Tonight.

She would be very disappointed in you next morning.

But what could you do?

Hux made it very clear he did not believe a word you said about loving him, about Lux’s parentage. He did not believe you. Period.

It made your heart ache and you felt highly stupid for still having feelings for him. He was the last person in the universe who deserved your love.

Heavens, he did not believe you when you said you loved Lux — your most precious thing. The light of your life. 

You did your best not to recall his words, they were to cruel and made your heart sore and small.

Shaking your head, you opened the doors of your chambers, only to find him sitting in the anteroom, a cigar between his fingers and a glass with brandy resting on the coffee table.

It was very rare to see him smoking. He was not a man of vices. In fact, this current Hux in front of you was a very meticulous man, a man who controlled and was not controlled by anyone or anything.

A man who hurt and never got hurt.

His words returned to you with full force.   

You say you love Lux, but all you did recently was using him…

You cut his voice in your mind, shaking your head and walking to the bedroom. He did not spare you even a single glance.

The words continued, this time almost a chant.

You say you love Lux…

Biting your bottom lip, you removed your dressing gown and held it in your arms.

You say you love Lux…

“Enough!” It took you a while — and a confused stare from him — for you to realize you had said the words aloud. You even brought both hands to your mouth in a mortified gesture, but you shook your head.

Tell him the truth.

You were trembling.

With rage.

With disgust.

With disappointment.

With love for Lux.

…for him…

But you were also trembling with hate.

For him.

For yourself.

For his father.

For your father.

You walked to him. Stopped right in front of him. And took his glass of brandy, taking the liquid all at once.

If you were to say the truth — the ugly truth — you had to have at least some alcohol running through your veins.

“Do you want to hear the truth?”

He did not give you a reply.

His bluish eyes were focused on you. Intense. Burning with a cold flame that hurt you more than his words. In a dismissive gesture, he brought the cigar to his lips.

It was clear he did not want to hear whatever you had to say.

But now he would.

You would make sure he did.

“My father hated you.”

If these words bothered him you would never know, for he did not how any reaction to them. It was well known that your father disapproved greatly of him and his ancestry.

A bastard!

You gave yourself to a useless bastard!

He had called Armitage a bastard in countless occasions. His own father called him that every once in a while. Not every day. No. It would be the same of reminding himself he could only produce an heir — any heir — outside wedlock. It would remind him of his own failure.

You braced yourself for the next words.

“He would never allow any child of yours to live.”

That made Hux’s shoulders tense. He sat straighter in the couch and lowered the cigar to the cinder-box.

“Did he…” He let the question in the air. He could not even look at you. His eyes were cast on the floor. Your negative reply made him cast a glance at you with some relief. “I would kill him if he—

“No. But he laughed at me when my menses came.”

It still hurt to recall his happiness while you cried yourself to sleep in Rae’s arms. Your heart was flooded with fondness for this woman who took you under her care as if you were her own child.

There is a reason why I never had children.

She was a far better mother than most mothers you had met in your life — your own included.

“He was happy that it did not take root. It was not even six months after that and upon your disappearance that he decided to marry me off to another man.”

His lips were pursed into a thin line…

…And you thought that you saw some anguish in his eyes…?

You shook your head. You were reading too much into his reactions. It was only natural that he would be mad at your father — men all over the Empire considered women to be their properties. Hux was no different.

“But then, he suddenly stopped.”

He furrowed his brows.

No words left his lips.

His silence was never so welcomed before.

“It took me and Rae a while to figure it out… But he was having an affair with a village girl in Southampton.” You sat beside him and took the cigar. You had never smoked before — the only time you tried, you did it wrong and ended up with a coughing fit. He took it away from you and brought it to his lips.

“Go on.”

You bit your bottom lip, regretting the fact that you did not have anything alcoholic to drink in your chambers.

“This girl…” You looked down. “This girl had your hair… but chestnut eyes.”

He pursed his lips into a thin line.

“You know… Don’t you?” you asked, your voice broken.

He nodded.

For long, uncountable minutes there was only the sound of the cigar becoming ashes in the cinder-box. A sepulchral silence enveloped you.

Subconsciously, your hands sought his and your fingers entwined.

“I suspected it,” he finally admitted it, looking at your palms pressed together. He ran his thumb over your pulse absentmindedly. 

“She was younger than you and me,” you continued in a whisper. “But she was the legitimate daughter your father never knew he had. My father—

You did not realize you were crying till you felt his fingers on your face, wiping them away.

“Is a monster.”

He brought you to the comfort of his arms. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and cried your heart out. It had been long since you let yourself think about this story.

“Was a monster.”

He ran his fingers through your hair, trying to comfort you. It only made you cry more.

“She was no more than a child. He…”

“Forced her,” he finished for you; his voice no more than an emotionless whisper.

This made you cry harder.

He had never met his sister. He never would.

Your father was truly a monster. The worst kind of monster. Because he hated Armitage and the prospect of him having his title — even if he desperately needed Armitage’s money — revolted, sickened him, he forced himself upon your husband’s only living parent. Thus, their offspring — unlike yours — would be fit to have his damned title.

In his eyes, you were no better than a whore — the only daughter he had had given herself to a bastard.    

“Lux is my nephew,” he said, holding you by the nape and forcing you — albeit not unkindly — to face him.   

You nodded.

“And my brother.”

A/N - Well, that’s it for today, kids! Unlike BB, I still have left two more chapters of this story to update here. I’m on a tight schedule right now, so that’s why you aren’t getting ant updates from me. Sorry, but I really have to finish my thesis xD. Anyways, I hope you’ve liked it xD

[fantasyandromancelover]

Dark Shadows Chapter 3

That very same night Miroku was outside working in the garden. Well he was supposed to be anyway but instead he was up in a tree spying on Sango through her bedroom window, waiting for her to get undressed for bed.

"That's it." He whispered. "Come on. Take off the shirt."

She started to but then stopped, picked up her evening clothes, and went into the bathroom to change.

"Damn it!" Miroku cursed.

He then slid down the tree and started digging holes in the garden to plant vegetable seeds in tomorrow afternoon. As he dug he came upon numerous things. A few rocks, some old tree shots, a couple animal bones, nothing out of the ordinary that is until he hit something extremely hard and difficult to dig up.

"What the hell is this?"

He began to dig into the spot and brushed away the dirt until he uncovered an iron coffin covered in chains.

"This coffin belongs in a proper graveyard not here. I better bury it in the cemetery so the poor soul in there can rest peacefully."

But as soon as Miroku removed the coffin from it's spot it began to shake rapidly and insanely until the chains broke and the coffin door flung open. Miroku was knocked back and watched as a young man with long white hair, fangs, claws, and red eyes rose from it. Most people would've been petrified with fear or run away screaming but Miroku knew what this man was and how to deal with him. You see before he became Kaede's groundskeeper he prevoprevi worked as a highly trained exorcist, dealing with vampires, witches, evil spirits, and unholy forces of the devil.

Miroku quickly pulled out a crucifix from his pants pocket and held up while also pulling a holy Bible from his back pack.

"In the name of the holy father I command you to cease living in this world and find peace in death!"

But to Miroku's surprise the crucifix had no effect on the vampire man. He glared down at Miroku and sized him by his throat.

"Nice try." He said in a terrifying voice with his red eyes blazing. "But those crucifixes don't work on vampires like me."

He looked down at Miroku's neck, he could hear the man's heart beating rapidly with fear and could feel his blood run cold. It made him lick his fangs as he felt extreme thirst. He pinned Miroku down, climbed on top of him, and prepared to drain him dry when something fell out of Miroku's pocket. He picked it up and examined it. It was a photograph of Miroku with Kaede, Sango, and Shippo, laughing and smiling. This man had a family that he loved and seeing it caused the vampire to soften. He got off of Miroku, released his throat, and helped him to his feet. Then his red eyes turned gold.

"Listen if you answer my questions truthfully then I won't harm you and I'll know if you're lying. Now who are you?"

"My...My name is Miroku." The groundskeeper replied trembling.

"Why did you unearth me?"

"I...I didn't mean to. I found your coffin while I was digging in the garden. I was going to move you to the cemetery tomorrow so you wouldn't be disturbed."

"What is the year?"

"1972."

"1972? Damn! I've been in there for a long time!" He looked back at Miroku who looked like that he was ready to pass out from fear.

"My...My cross didn't work on you...How?"

"Because I'm not all dead yet."

"What does that mean?"

"Okay let me guess you're an exorcist right?"

"Yeah."

"So you're aware of vampires right?"

"Yes."

"And you know how humans become vampires right?"

"Yes. If another vampire kills them with a bite then they come back as those undead monsters."

"Actually there are two ways. One is what you just said and the other is through witchcraft in which humans become vampires when they're still alive. So since I'm not undead crucifixes and holy water will do nothing to me."

"Oh crap."

"But I can still die by sunlight, garlic, and that whole wooden stake through the heart mess."

"I've...I've seen you before or rather someone who looks like you. They were in one of Kaede's old pictures but the hair and eyes are a totally different color."

"Black hair? Brown eyes?"

"Yes."

"That was me. Or rather it was me two centuries ago when I was human."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Inuyasha and I once owned this mansion."

"What do you want?"

"I'm not going to hurt you. You got me out of that underground hell hole so I'm in dept to you."

"It's not my life I'm worried about." Miroku said eyeing the picture of in Inuyasha's hand.

"Oh yeah your family I'm not going to hurt them either."

"Well they're not really my family but they're very important to me and I swear if you hurt either of them-"

"I won't."

"That's what you say but I know you're kind. I've fought vampires before and they kill without mercy."

"Some but not all. I don't kill needlessly and I don't kill the innocent."

"But you do kill?"

"Just to live but believe me I target mostly animals and occasionally criminals but I swear to you I will not harm anyone innocent or dear to you. I just want to live in my home again."

"Well I don't know about that because it belongs to Kaede."

"Kaede? She's still alive?"

"You know her?"

"She was the younger sister of a woman I knew years ago. Before I was sealed away I wrote a will saying that she and her family would inherit everything I owned including the house and my business."

"Then I think you're referring to Kaede's great, great, great, great, great...You get the idea. Grandmother who she was named after her."

"Oh so she's dead and this is just one of her descendants."

"I don't know if I should trust you."

"I figured you might say that. Would it help if I drank from a live animal in front of you?"

"No! That's disgusting!"

"Look I haven't killed you yet so that must prove something right?"

"I suppose. You promise not to hurt anyone in that house?"

"I swear not to harm anyone you love and care for."

"Fine."

"Good and one more thing. Don't tell anyone who or what I am."

"Deal."

The next evening Inuyasha arrived at the mansion introducing himself as a distant descendant of the previous family that lived there and all this time he had been living in a distant country. At first Kaede and the others weren't convinced until they saw that he was a dead ringer for the man in the portrait above the fireplace.

"I don't recall the first Inuyasha ever having any children." Kaede said. "We were told his family line ended with him."

"Well he did have an older brother and I believe he did marry and start a family." Inuyasha said.

"What up with your hair and eyes?" Shippo asked.

"I...I have a very rare medical condition."

"How rare?" Sango asked.

"Extremely. A genetic disorder which caused me to be born with unsual hair color, eyes, and an allergy to the sun."

"Goodness how awful." Kaede said.

"Why are you wearing clothes like that?" Sango asked.

Inuyasha looked down at his apparel.

"What's wrong with them?"

"He uh just came from a costume party when it started raining and he lost his luggage. Yeah that's it." Miroku said.

"Hey how old are you kids?" Inuyasha said.

"I'm eight." Shippo said.

"I'm sixteen almost seventeen." Sango said.

"And you're not married yet?"

"Of course not she's much too young." Kaede said.

"Where he comes from girls get married real young." Miroku said.

"Well here young ladies wait until they're at least eighteen before they marry." Kaede said. "So tell me Inuyasha what brings you here?"

"Well I would like to move into my ancestoral home and help out in the family business."

"Good luck with that." Sango said. "Our trade business has been in a rut for years. We lost it to a rival company."

"Well I'm sure that I can change that. So do you mind if I stay here? Technically it does belong to me but I'm not going to kick anyone out."

"I don't see a problem." Kaede said. "So you've met me, Shippo, Sango, and Miroku. Let me introduce you to Kagura and Kagome."

"Kagura went out to buy more booze." Miroku said.

"Again? I swear if she wasn't the only therapist we could afford I would fire her. Inuyasha, Kagura is our live in therapist who has a huge alcohol problem and Kagome is Shippo's governess. Miroku fetch her will you?"

"Yes ma'am."

Miroku went upstairs to tell Kagome about their new guest. Inuyasha felt as if all time stopped when Kagome entered the room. As soon as he laid eyes on her, it was like he had seen a ghost because she looked identical to Kikyo the woman he loved and lost so many years ago. At first he thought that she was Kikyo who had come back to him by some miracle but as soon as he smelled her scent he realized that this was a different woman.

"Hello I'm Kagome. I'm the governess here, it's very nice to meet you."

She held out her hand to shake. At first Inuyasha was stunned. Why did this woman look like Kikyo? Was this some kind of cruel joke that fate was playing on him?

"Why do you look like that?" He asked her.

"I beg your pardon." She said.

"Nothing... Nothing except I don't find how you're dressed very appealing."

"Excuse me?!" She said feeling insulted.

"Sorry I would have complimented you but I'm not supposed to lie."

"How rude!"

"Inuyasha what's wrong with you? That's no way to speak to a lady?" Miroku scolded.

Inuyasha knew better than to be so insulting but he was very angry right now. Angry at fate for creating a woman who looked like the woman he loved. How dare they pull such a cruel and unfair twist. He grabbed Miroku and pulled him aside for a private conversation.

"Miroku keep that woman away from me." He told him.

"Why?"

"Nevermind just do it. Make sure she never ever comes near me."

"Alright."

"Good now if you'll excuse me I'm going to get a drink."

[heavenzfiend]

Super long review for Ch. 3 & 4 ahead:

I'm writing this review on a plane to Japan as I downloaded the series to keep me company on my long flight! I think this is quickly becoming one of my most anticipated and favorite series ever! A part of me wants to read Pride and Prejudice again but I'd MUCH rather be reading your works instead my dear.

I just love Areum so much that I feel distressed when she is and happy when she is. She's such a lovable character. I like how Mr Han is constantly on her mind, so cute!

Omg I completely glossed over Sarah as another new character until the name finally registered XD I can't wait to see how this all plays out!

------

I thought, "ohohoho?" When Mr Han didn't answer the question as to why Areum is going with them when she's proven innocent. *happy giggles*

Elizabeth's governess?! Ha! Is he protecting her? *swoons* And omg when he complimented her I... goodness, it made me truly happy! Terrier comment made me laugh too as well as his embarassment. Oh Juju...

Ah just realized we don't know Miss Rika's last name haha. And omg you're so freaking brilliant! I almost snorted when she thought Elizabeth might be a cat like omg XD

And... and... WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN WITH THE PIANO SCENE?!?!?!?! Can I just say I LOVE the dowager for providing all these situations where Mr Han is saving, thus getting closer to, Areum? Thank you ma'am *bows slightly* *more giggles*

When he held her hands while playing my heart was pounding so hard like gosh. And then when she boldly asked him questions I was like, "you go girl!!!" I loved their exchange and so glad she asked him outright if he meant it. "I do not lie Miss Areum." Like just kill me now why won't you? *cheeks hurting from the constant cheesy smiling at this point; thank goodness the plane is dark so people don't see me just smiling away* I love how she has the guts to call him out on his 'lying' currently and Juju no no don't be like that~

Noooooooooooooooooo! Like nooooo! Just wanna give her a hug at the end and tell her it's most likely a misunderstanding and that she needs to trust Mr Han but... but... ah what a way to end it! T^T I can't wait to read more~ good luck with all your projects! Your writing is so top notch *thumbs up*

Bewitched, Body and Soul 4/?

Areum is taken to the house of the stern Mr Jumin Han, to whom she takes an instantaneous disliking. The feeling is very much mutual.

I’ve given up trying to guess how many chapters this is going to be lmao. This entire chapter was supposed to be a side scene in chapter 2 but GDI if the piano scene isn’t my favourite in P&P. Well…second favourite, falling just a little behind this one. Also the bit about the Countess and Pemberley is partially true

Intro - If You Go Chasing Rabbits 

Jumin Route - Bewitched, Body and Soul - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

A word, perhaps, about Pemberley house.

Many hundreds of years before Miss Areum or Mr Han drew breath, it belonged to a Countess of great repute and incredible vanity. It’s not clear when exactly she decided upon it as a personal project, only that through multiple marriages and favours to the crown, she was able to expand it several times over. By the time of her death, the house was barely recognisable from its humble beginnings. Pemberley rivalled most palaces of its era in terms of grandeur, though its remote location came at a great cost; it was far less renowned than others in the region and all but impossible to find in bad weather. The Countess craved admirers and praise, but few of her peers were willing to travel through the winding moors and woodland for a simple visit.

Keep reading

[fuelgrannieinthefamily]

Hansel and Deceitful

I got lost once in Central Park right before my fifth birthday. On a hill just south of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, I had wandered away from my Scottish governess and my almost nine-year-old autistic brother, I couldn’t see them anywhere on the snow-specked concrete path in front of me or behind me. A lady stopped to ask if I was lost, I relayed I was; I was relieved to have help.

The lady asked me my name, I told her. She asked me where I lived and who my parents were. I answered the first question honestly but I lied for the next one as it was the most lie-worthy opportunity in the moment and I lied a lot when I could. Plus, I was embarrassed by how dull my wealthy socialite parents suddenly seemed during this heightened moment in my life, this vibrating state of being alone and unexpectedly untethered. Their identities needed to be altered a tad for the ears of this stranger, so they could present as more appropriately glamorous.

“My father is a fireman and my mother is a nurse.” I announced: no harm, no foul.

Instantly, I felt better; these seemed like perfectly reasonable facts. And it wasn’t like I was in danger with this nice lady who I was sure had to have found me enchanting and had to have been impressed by my lineage: I was, after all, the resourceful child of healers and helpers and despite being lost near a tangle of pines trees in Central Park, I was remarkably calm and articulate. What’s not to like?

“Um I think at a bunch of hospitals,” I pronounced when asked to specify my mother’s “employ.” In my head, I pictured a blurred profile of a young white woman in a white uniform with black hair scurrying down an infirmary hall: I created a new mother for me and she was running to save a life.

My angry father, a stockbroker at Solomon Brothers on Wall Street, also transformed into a friendly hero, a jolly man, a man I’d want to hug, a man people loved and flocked to.

“Oh he’s put out hundreds of fires, all, very much, all over the city,” I widened my olive green parka-covered arms as I pictured this new father smiling: the image in my head fueled me as I unloaded on the kind stranger, this lady in the park who was helping me, walking me to find a cop, to get me help.

The brogue squawk of my governess Betty careening down the park path towards us, my white-blond brother Christopher clinging to her sleeve, cut through the fantasy.

“Goooooooooood loooooooooooooorrrrrdddd!” Betty reached me, panting, kneeling at my shoes, her mouth wide, her long teeth lemon yellow from sucking down two packs of mentholated cigarettes every day. Betty was practical, kind, lean and calm with short, curly, prematurely grey hair and a frequent, easy laugh; I adored and trusted her and could tell she had been crying.

I realized then I had never bothered to cry or had even experienced being scared during this very short separation. I had been excited, I had been nervous, but I hadn’t been scared. And here was my old life, my no-firefighter no-nurse life, right in front of me, my red-lipped trembling brother, my governess limp with panic.

I had been found.

But I was also potentially caught.

I clammed up, distracted by the idea the kind lady would now think this Scottish woman was my mother, so I quickly fathomed new possible lies, some form of explanation, if required.

My lie stood next to me like an oblong aura, it seemed huge and obvious and it counted now; the stakes flew high and I froze at the thought of Betty finding out, of my family finding out about the nurse and the firefighter.

*

Siblings Hansel and Gretel were purposely left in the woods to fend for themselves because their parents couldn’t afford to feed the whole family. The parents picked their own mouths over those of their offspring and deliberately led their only son and daughter to be lost in a forest. The abandoned children eventually happened upon an edible house whose owner, a witch, tries to cook them but the sister outwits the witch, pushes her into an oven and kills her.

Versions of this tale depict a stepmother instead of a birthmother; some omit the mother figure all together or even insinuate the mother figure and the cannibalistic witch are the same character because it seemed so unnatural for a mother to abandon her children, even though the fairytale was likely based on the six-year-long Great Famine which hit Europe in the early 1300s and tales of child abandonment paled against stories of parents killing and even eating their own children out of desperation.

As a kid, I didn’t know the worst part of this fairytale which was the detail that the parents led these kids to the woods not once but twice to try to lose them. That’s the true horror of the story because murderous witches had already proven to be a manageable evil: killing a mean witch is something I had watched Dorothy do in Oz (twice actually: one with a house and then a second with a bucket of water) so that aspect of the Hansel and Gretel tale was feasible. Plus, witches who threaten or attempt to kill you deserve to die anyway, at least in terms of a resolution in a fictional tale. Notwithstanding witches don’t really exist: I had never seen one, a real one, and I lived in New York City; if something was real, at least one of it would be living here and I would certainly know about it. Child-eating witches were not the terrifying prospect but the parent who tries to get rid of you is.

The first time Hansel and Gretel’s parents led them to be lost in the woods, Hansel had gathered small white stones he discreetly dropped so to lead the way back home for his sister and him. When they made it back home that first time, their parents were infuriated, they had wanted their children to stay lost. They then locked their kids in the house so that no more small white stones could be gathered. Fearing a second march into the woods, Hansel had snuck bread into his pocket which he then again dropped as his parents led Gretel and him back into the forest for a second time. You know it’s official when your parents take you back to make you lost again: they meant it, it hadn’t been some random mistake when you were accidently left in the woods so now you leave your fate to the food you’re throwing on the ground.

Predictably, birds ate the bread crumbs and the two children who still desperately just wanted to return home absolutely could not that second time around. Instead, Hansel and Gretel found the witch, they found her inviting house, they were potentially already gingerbread people themselves, they were potentially already dead.

*

A bigger concept was planted as a seed that day when I was lost for a moment in Central Park: I confirmed I could use deception as a means for play. It was pretending, it was acting, it was an escape, an out. As a teenager in taxis and a young adult traveling alone on airplanes, I changed my voice as I spoke to the driver or the passenger seated next to me; I employed a vague Euro accent or a broad and geographically imprecise Southern accent. I committed to the role I inhabited and the information I provided. If caught, I provided a new lie: when a man sitting next to me on a plane asked which exact area of Winston Salem was the one in which I had grown up, I distracted him with the fact that since having “moved” to New York City, I could easily reference some incredibly cool areas from there, y’all.

No one ever called me out for lying but that doesn’t mean I was universally believed, rather merely that I had been politely tolerated.

I wanted to be lost, I wanted to be a different person, I wanted different people to be bonded to me but I also wanted to return to the life I knew at will. It was all a game to go from one reality to another; it meant nothing, I decided. I was good at it, I reasoned. No one gets hurt by it, I was sure. It was all an act. I didn’t need to gather small white stones; I left no breadcrumbs; I lied to good witches, I lied to bad ones.

[kennedyldevin]

Wick’s Backstory

          Ellywick grew up in a small town on the outskirts of a forest. She was the middle child of seven children in a family that was rather large. From a young age, she liked lurking in the background, as she was usually surrounded by a large amount of gnomes. In fact, on a good day there were no less than ten gnomes in her household. Her parents both focused on Elly’s younger and older siblings, making her even more of an outcast in her family. Not that she even minded, she hated being the center of attention. Out of all the members of her family, only did she truly care about her younger sister, Isadira. Dira and Wick could rarely be separated. Elly watched her siblings grow up, doing various things, though most of her siblings decided to stay around town, working in various shops and helping the family out. However, even as a child, Elly wanted to see the world. Though it was custom for most gnomes to at least venture out, none of her family seemed to have the wanderlust that she seemed to possess.

          Around the age of sixteen, Elly befriended a criminal within town. The name sent frowns on the faces of everyone who lived there because they knew just what sort of person he was. Elly found him endearing to say the least. He began to teach her the ways of stealing from people and everything he knew about pulling cons on people, which was not a lot. It was a thrilling feeling to be able to put her hand into a pocket and pull out all the coins someone was carrying around. Though the rest of the town seemed to harbor a hatred for him, Elly felt that he was the only other person who she connected to other than her younger sister. She had always been in the shadows, stealing matched that need for being unseen in a world that wanted her to be in the background so badly. Throughout the years, Elly grew the need and want to prove that she was just as worthy of the spotlight as the rest of her siblings.

          As she grew up, she grew hungry to leave her town and get away from her family, her criminal friend told her of a great thief who could teach her beyond what he knew that lived in Baldur’s Gate. At the young age of seventeen, she left home to find him and was eventually found him. He agreed to teach her everything that he knew of conning, thus a relationship was formed between the two of them. Sal taught Elly the art of conning and learned to be a master at deception and lying. Although as she learned more and more about her mentor, she quickly found out that she would not be praised for her abilities. Sal remained cold and aloof, no matter what Elly did right. She could perfectly pick a lock within ten seconds and Sal treated her as if a child could do better. The next ten years, Elly sought after his praise, doing everything in her power to show she could be as great as Sal himself.

          Although Elly left home and quit talking to most members of her family, as she grew in Baldur’s Nest, she made sure to keep an eye on her sister. For the first six years, it was at a distance, watching her grow up to be her own age when she left home. Elly wanted to make sure that Dira was happy with her life. She was twenty three the first time she made legitimate contact with Dira for the first time. Throughout the years, Elly has kept a close eye on Dira, finding her own contacts to keep an eye on the one family member Elly will do anything to protect. Her resources were not as vast as Sal’s are, but she slowly gathered a small group of people that she would use to keep an eye on the people and happenings around town.

          When Elly turned thirty seven, she learned of a magical item – a wand – that was powerful. Through her contacts she also learned that her childhood friend Talis had disappeared and might have been kidnapped. Although her contact was quite unsure of all the details and much of it was rumor, Elly thought that she might could use the magic item to save Talis or it would help her gain more power. When she confronted Sal about stealing the item, he warned her not to, saying it was far too dangerous and she was not ready. Eager to prove once and for all that she was just as great as Sal, Elly decided not to heed his warning and steal the item. On the day she planned to steal it, Sal showed up, saying he really wished she would listen to him. Elly still did not listen to him. Instead, she went to steal the item, with a team of people at her disposal, but she quickly found out Sal was right and things went south quickly, unbeknown to her the reasons as to why. Sal had followed Elly and the second before things got too far out of hand, sacrificed himself to make sure she got away from the danger. Elly barely escaped with her life and quickly fled town. She hoped that she could save Talis before going back to help Sal.

Alternate Persona:

Waterdeep

11 year old human ( ethnicity: Damaran )

Family died in a fire four years ago

Seven/Eight at the time of the fire

Convinced that someone set fire to the mansion and that my life is in danger

Thus far pretended to be a smol orphan child living on the streets

Malnourished, so growth has been stunted

God: Oghma, god of knowledge ( symbol: blank scroll )

Name: Duke Thorsten Wiciyan Tesalen III

           The Tesalen family was a kindly noble family. At the lower end of the nobles, they had a fair amount of money, but were not the richest of nobles. Most of their business was conducted in Waterdeep. Thorsten Wiciyan the third was born in Waterdeep and mainly stayed with his mother and older sister. One day, he would take over the family business and he would soon learn everything he needed to know. Life was simple for him, but he never wanted for anything. Everything that he could ever want was provided for him.

           At the young age of seven, a tragic fire consumed the Tesalen family household. Thorsten’s governess sacrificed herself to save him from the fire and the last thing he saw before bursting out of the fiery house was a hooded man. He fled the scene, tears streaming down his face and the loss of his family. Thorsten then became an orphan, fending for himself on the streets with a new identity in order to conceal who he actually was from the rest of the world. He was convinced that someone killed his family and that what he saw wasn’t just from his imagination.

           Three years later, he’s learned a lot about survival on the streets. He’s decided to go after the people that killed his family so he could reclaim his family’s land and his title. He heard some rumors that some information might rest in Greenest and was going to find information about that. When he arrived, he found that a dragon was attacking. Although he his hesitant to trust the people that he is currently working with, he believes that they might be the best chance to help him find out what happened to his family. And also, if he slays a dragon, surely he can slay the person that killed his family and doesn’t need to be afraid of them anymore.