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impietyau · 2 months ago

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Lamentations of a Civilization

#Impiety AU - 2 Part - Chapter 02#

Sorrowful Kindness

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Summary:

"To serve the King was to serve eternity. To serve eternity was to stand unshaken."

Hallownest was meant to last forever, but even gods make mistakes. When the Pale King enacted the Sealing, the act that was supposed to save the kingdom, it instead marked the beginning of its end. The Hollow Knight was chosen to bear the burden, and the Great Knights were left behind to witness the unravel of everything they swore to protect. One by one, they fell.

Isma, the Kindly, who sought to do anything in her power to protect a friend. Dryya, the Fierce, who followed her Queen into a self-served punishment. Hegemol, the Mighty, whose love for the people led him into battle. Ogrim, the Loyal, who desired to prevent the Capital’s rebellion. Ze’mer, the Mysterious, who left to find her beloved amidst revolt. A kingdom lost, a King who vanished, and Five Great Knights who were left with nothing but lament for an era past.

A kingdom lost, a King who vanished, and Five Great Knights who were left with nothing but lament for an era past. — "A... flower?” The King asked, voice now laced with confusion. “It does not need such a thing.” He tried to dismiss it. "But we do,” Isma said. “So, my King, I beg of you. Let us mourn."

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Authors Note's Corner

*My Canon Compliance for this fic is because it is how I imagine/interpreted the endings of each Great Knight, considering every tid-bit of lore we have on the subject. Other works in the Impiety series will follow the same line of idea, canon-compliant to whatever lore I can find, but my obsessed ass might let some important info go by right over my head (if you know something I don't, please SHARE! SHARE THE K W O L E D G E). Also, not every work in the ImpietyAU will be canon-compliant, only some where I'm working more with the pre-game setting.

Will try to keep up with weekly updates!

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Content Warning: Major Character Death, Panic Attack, Bugs have torches and pitchforks - they are revolting!

Word Count: 5.2k

--------------------V--------------------

‘Isma the Kindly;

She was the Third Great Knight of Hallownest. Born as one of Unn’s children, she had a deep connection with Greenpath. Her practiced aim was her specialization, viciously tearing at the Kingdom's enemies from a distance.

Her favorite weapon was her whip—word ran that even experienced Knights from the King’s Pale Guard feared it.

On more personnel registries, she was highly regarded and told to be kind, caring, and equal to all. She would not judge anyone based on their background or species.

—

What has happened to her, I wonder. Where did her glorious tale meet its inevitable end?

I would need to delve deep into that broken elevator shaft to find more about it.

—

That was a bad—awful—idea. That shaft is full of sharp ends and ragged edges, not to mention the crazied sentries roving about in that dark bottomless hole.

Hopefully, that little irritating mute bug will bring more journals with tidbits on her.’

~Lemm, Relic Seeker

The Hollow Knight and the Pale King disappeared inside the gaping mouth of the Black Egg Temple, their light seemingly snuffed out by the pure darkness emanating from the glorified coffin. Isma shuddered, her hand flying to her mouth in an attempt to muffle a sob.

Ogrim’s claw was over her back in an instant. He pulled her closer to his chest, giving her a place to hide for a little while, just enough for her to recompose herself before any of the celebrating commoners could see anything amiss in the reaction of one of the Kingdom’s Great Knights.

The sentries in the area acted like nothing was amiss. None of the Dreamers nor the Queen tried to question or criticize her for such demeanor. They all have something to lose here—be it a friend or even their own life, at the bequest of The Infection and this attempt to seal it away.

No one would question Isma, the Kindly, for caring too deeply for one of their disciples—even if they are a construct made by the King. Most of them saw how she treated said automaton in the Castle. How much time, effort, and kindness went into molding that vessel into the perfect knight.

The Dung beetle’s face hardened as he stared deep into the darkness Isma now refused to even glance at. His arms held her close inconspicuously, giving her a hiding place to recompose herself before he turned back towards the masses.

Ogrim silently prays to their God-King for this plan to succeed so that their unofficial Sixth Great Knight can accomplish their first and final order.

He truly wants to believe Isma when she says the Pure Vessel has a Soul of their own. He already has his shortcomings wrapped around the existence of Kingsmoulds and Wingsmoulds—creatures made of metal and stone to be like living and breathing bugs but animated by the God-King’s magic. Sentries that did not tire had no reason to eat or drink and could work around the clock in a precise manner.

After seeing them for himself, he finally understood the creepy feeling those constructs gave off and even talked with other bugs about how they feared losing their job in the Palace Pale Guard to those strange things. More than once, he had wondered the same things while reassuring his friends that the King would not just dismiss them and their years of servitude over those things.

At least, none of those machines had proven capable of surpassing the Great Five—shortcomings appearing even at fighting some of the Pale Guards.

Then, the little vessel showed up. A blank canvas to be filled with any practice they could fit inside their little head. If he had difficulty understanding how Kingsmoulds, things that looked and moved like bugs, and yet were not bugs, it was infinitely harder to understand that little thing.

Unlike normal automatons, the little vessel could molt, stumble, get lost, and even eat on rare occasions. This all made him feel like the little vessel was indeed a bug.

But the God-King said otherwise, and one by one, they all accepted it—even his Kindly Isma.

Everything seemed fine for a while, and things progressed smoothly with the King's plan. But suddenly, one night, after weeks of stressing over their discussion with the Pale King over and over during the day, she came to him at night and asked what he would do if the little vessel was a bug. What would he do if they had a soul and could think and feel like anyone else?

He feared where this question was going—questioning their God-King was never easy for him. But Ogrim did his best to answer honestly.

He would protect them.

No matter what.

Shortly after, Isma initiated the plan. She wanted to find out if the vessel would accept a flower from her. If they did, Ogrim stood ready to assist them in escaping upon her command.

Even after all this time, he still could not grasp inside his big old head how a construct, created not to be a bug, could gain a mind. It all felt so confusing and backward, so he decided to trust his heart—to trust his love.

If Isma says the Vessel is alive, then he believes her.

It is as simple as that.

But he also accepts the Vessel’s sacrifice and is thankful to them. Without their help, he is unsure how one could defeat an invisible foe. If not for the God-King finding a way through the use of the Vessel, he could not even fathom what else they could do to be rid of The Infection.

It all felt so... Helpless.

And that sensation gave him shame that ruminated under his carapace every day.

What use is that of a Knight who cannot defend their kingdom? Who can only watch as everything they swore to protect slowly crumbles away into fine dust?

Shaking his head from those thoughts, Ogrim turned his attention back to Isma, slowly caressing her back and supporting her. She is allowed to mourn their friend.

Breathing deeply and slowly, he knows he is also allowed to mourn them.

“I’ll miss you, little vessel,” Ogrim spoke softly, feeling Isma twitch under his arm as she nodded, agreeing with his words but not daring to open her mouth for fear of another sob overtaking her.

The Black Egg Temple rumbled—chains echoed from the bowels of the gigantic structure, and the air filled with the static of great concentrations of Soul-Magic. Finally ready, Isma lifted her eyes and straightened her face for a proper, dignified look.

She still held the flower in her hand, and Ogrim offered a claw.

She carefully placed the flower on his pincers, and he approached the door to leave a last memento—a parting gift to their friend by its frame.

As he lowered himself in a last bow to lay the flower down, he felt the looming presence of the Queen approaching him. His claws let go, and the tiny thing rested serenely by the entrance to the Temple.

“Ogrim, that flower—Where did you get it? It holds power from foreign lands. It should not be here. It is too dangerous to be left near Void of any kind.” Before the White Lady could finish her sentence, the ground rumbled, and small pieces of compacted dirt and stone fell slowly from the ceiling.

“My Queen,” Isma bowed, “It was I who brought the flower.”

“Please then, dispose of it,” The White Lady commanded, her eyes boring into Isma.

“Let Me’hon do it, Me’Lady,” Ze’mer spoke, pacing quickly toward the fragile flower. “It was Le’mer’s idea to bloom a flower from Lands Serene as a gift. Le’mer knows how to handle such flowers and best dispose of them,” She explained, gathering the flower in careful hands.

The Queen nodded regally, turning to look at the temple’s entrance. More chains echoed from its bowels.

The Soul Magic had by now lit up runes to the halfway point of the construction.

The air hummed with Condensed Soul, and Ivory-White motes floated up from various runes activating outside the temple. Ze’mer made sure to walk away with the flower while the sealing continued.

“Guards! Enter formation!” Hegemol exclaimed from near the entrance to Dirtmouth, and Isma looked that way to see Infected Husks approaching.

Heavy guards lifted their shields to hold the infected back, spears quickly thrust in between small gaps, digging deep into the Husk's bodies. Sickly hot orange spilled, puppeteered bodies falling to the floor as if the strings were cut.

“Launch!” A winged sentry bellowed, and spears flew out towards the Infected at the back, halting the horde's advances for a moment and giving the shielders much-needed breathing room.

“Please keep calm. The guards and knights are taking care of it,” A Royal Guard explained to the worried commoners. The White Lady did not even spare a glance at the commotion, her gaze fixated on the Black Egg Temple and the enchantments taking place inside of it.

This gave the masses a sense of safety. Although the cheering stopped, the murmurs of conversation and speculation did not cease.

“They are very apt at dealing with the Husks,” Herrah spoke, approaching the Pale Queen.

“Ogrim, Isma, and Ze’mer came up with the strategy while Dryya and Hegemol helped train the sentries,�� She answered calmly.

Isma kept her gaze on the fight. So far, this strategy has been enough to hold back even decently large hordes. But an enormous horde would be too much, and the Great Knights would have to intervene if things start to get out of hand.

More Husks appeared from Dirtmouth, and more of the sickly sweet-smelling substance was spilled on the floor and the guards' armor; there would be hell to pay later with guard rotations and isolation to make sure no one was spreading the infection at the capital once they were back.

Isma painfully noticed there were no more chains sounds coming from the Temple.

The air still sang with magic, and something pulled at her—the root systems felt disarranged. Static, making it all the harder to feel any other who shares the system.

The runes at the top of the temple finally lit up.

Something pulled at something else. A tight snap was in the air, and Soul gathered in the building. Every rune chanted mutely, and the air buzzed with power.

Her ears rang. Sounds turned into muteness.

The Infection started to accumulate in the room.

Everyone waited with bated breaths.

Slowly, the sounds came back. Bugs barking orders. Spears tearing into carapaces. Silent murmurs in the background.

And then a Godly scream.

Ravenously screeching.

Threatening to deafen all.

The Infection started to gather in the air. The sweet smell made her nauseous in its stale presence. Everything started to get tinted orange.

Have we failed?

Did we lose?

As those treasonous thoughts envelop her mind The Infection started to pull away, gathering at the mouth of the Black Egg Temple and sucked in. The runes on the outside shone brighter. Soul chains embedded in the sickly orange. A net pulling it all in—every last drop.

The temple shook with its sheer force.

Isma felt like her own body was being sucked along, and saw as other bugs inclined backwards, as if they all felt the same pressure.

And then it was over.

Small debris falling from the ceiling was the last signal that anything had happened at all.

“The Husks!” Someone screamed from Dirtmouth’s entrance. “They stopped!” They said, a hint of disbelief mixed with happiness in their voice.

Isma looked that way and saw the Husk shells immobiized on the floor. No. She looked at the shells of their dead, who had finally been allowed to rest.

A Pale Ivory Light appeared from the dark entrance.

He approached the Dreamers proudly, and behind Him, a line made of Soul connected His glowing body to the inside of the temple.

The Pale King neared Monomon first. No words could be heard, but Isma knew He thanked her softly before murmuring the needed enchantment. The Uoma archivist slumped a little forward before catching herself.

Next was Lurrien, who held the King's hand in a feat of boldness Isma had never felt the man capable of. Another quiet ‘thank you’ followed by the enchantment. Lurien slumped forward, and the King managed to catch his body.

When Lurien was handed to his trusted butler, the Pale King finally turned to Herrah. The Beast inclined forward and spoke something into His ears. With a single nod from the Pale God, she closed her eyes, and the enchantment was pronounced quietly. She did not flinch but blinked heavily and tiredly when it was done.

The White Lady walked over to each dreamer and thanked them, bowing graciously to each one of them.

The God-King then turned around to the commoners. His wings flared, and his arms spread in a grandiose gesture.

“We declare from henceforward that the Infection is gone!” His voice echoed in the tunnel. Bugs cheered joyfully and cried in mourning. Relief and hope for a better future intertwined with sadness and longing from a broken past.

“Through the sacrifice of The Hollow Knight and the Three Dreamers—Monomon the Teacher, Lurien the Watcher, and Herrah the Beast, Hallownest is safe and shall reign Eternal!” The King flared his arm toward the Dreamers, and the bugs cheered once more, bowing and thanking the three courageous bugs.

“Herrah, you can go back to your den,” The White Lady said softly, hugging the other Queen inconspicuously. “He will go there to make the final arrangements soon. Make sure there is no lingering regret.”

“My bargain was made; there was never a possibility for regret,” Herrah spoke quietly.

With the King’s orders, they finally started the journey back to Hallownest’s Capital City.

It has been a year since the Sealing.

An entire year has passed, and they still have no new plan.

She did all she could to get the King to do something—anything—just so Hallow's sacrifice is not in vain!

And yet—

Isma could only watch silently when Dryya and Ze’mer left the White Palace, their forms swallowed by the distant corridors, which seemed emptier by the day.

One toward the Queen’s Gardens, the other toward the far-off Mantis Village.

Two Great Knights leaving to care for two different crises.

One was to protect the White Lady, who had vanished from the Castle Grounds not too long after the Sealing, and the other was to check on the whispers of treason and conspiracy coming from the Mantis Village.

That left only three of them in the palace now—herself, Ogrim, and Hegemol. Soon, they would also be gone to deal with another crisis.

She had not voiced her complaints at the time, but now, standing in the empty hall with only the distant murmur of a few palace sentries, the weight of their absence pressed on her.

Everything had been fine for the first few weeks.

Life was seemingly falling back into what it was before. Bugs were mourning still, but at least they had new hope—a future to look towards.

With whispers lost to the wind, it started. Telling a tale of an usurper—of old debts and wrongdoings. Common bugs started praying, not to the Ivory Light, but to a glistening Blistering Sun. Their eyes unfocused, tinted in orange. But there were no physical signs of orange blisters overtaking their carapaces. No infected cocoons present. Not even the lingering sweet smell of The Infection could be found.

There was no evidence of The Infection, and still, the Goddess's presence lingered.

During the day, those bugs acted fine and worked normally. But at night, they dreamed of Her Light. They would pray to Her and speak of Her.

Ill words started to befall the Pale King and His image. Insisting that His Light had abandoned them. How the deaths were His responsibility. Spouting that He had not done enough to save them.

And then, the Soul Sanctum happened.

Like a Domino effect, bugs from all around started to blame Him for being careless, for allowing someone to commit such a massacre on the doorstep of His home.

Stories of piles of bodies atop piles of bodies. Of the agronious sin of sucking a bug’s entire soul reserve in the name of research. That the research was allowed by His decree.

All nonsense—lies and blasphemy. But no one would listen to the voice of reason, and the lies spreaded like fire.

The Soul Master and his followers vanished in the Bowels of the atrocious building. They did not have enough soldiers to go after that monster right now. Various sentries had already died at his magic when trying to act independently.

The Pale King did not act. He had hidden away in His throne room a few weeks prior, refusing to leave and ordering none to enter—soul drumming in the air around closed doors.

Isma can only hope he has been doing some research there while chaos ensued. Anything to try and save this Kingdom—His Kingdom!

Without clear orders, the situation was growing out of hand. There was a shortage of soldiers, so Ogrim and Hegemol decided to leave and check the Capital's situation. Things spiralled out of control over the course of a few days.

Sentries started to gather arms with commoners, whispers of revolt against the King circulating the masses and growing in strength by the minute. Palace Guards left their stations to check on the situation and never came back.

She felt abandoned.

No—she felt like they had abandoned Hallownest.

With the Infection still lingering, its return slow but undeniable, they should all be fighting to find a new solution. And yet, they had scattered one by one, each drawn away by a different crisis.

Hegemol and Ogrim’s departure had been the final spark of frustration.

She could no longer stand idly by.

The King had to listen to her now. He could not brush her aside any longer, not when his own Great Knights were leaving, not when the capital whispered of rebellion, and not when she had warned him from the very beginning that the Vessel was impure.

The Throne Room doors loomed before her, heavy and foreboding, the Pale King’s light seeping from the cracks.

He had not left this chamber in months, His absence in His workshop painfully conspicuous. That was the strangest of all.

Before, he had worked tirelessly, endlessly thinking, always planning—that unrelenting mind had built Hallownest’s prosperity! But now? Now, he sat in that throne, unseeing, unhearing, letting his kingdom rot beneath him.

Has He given up? Has he forsaken His kingdom and His people?

Isma did not hesitate. She pushed open the doors and strided in with confidence.

The Pale King was exactly as she expected him to be: seated upon his throne, motionless, his hands gripping the arms of his seat with an intensity that spoke of barely contained tension. His luminescent Ivory Crown cast long shadows against the pristine walls.

He did not acknowledge her for a moment, and her stomach twisted. When was the last time she had seen him truly move?

“My King,” she started, and the words left her mouth more gently than intended. Too gentle. Her grip tightened at her sides. “I need to speak with you.”

Silence.

Her frustration spiked. “Ogrim and Hegemol have gone to the capital to control the uprising. The city is in turmoil. The people see what you refuse to—The Infection is still here. It never left.”

Still, He said nothing.

Her voice rose. “You know the plan has failed.”

His fingers twitched. That was the only indication that he had even heard her.

She pressed on, stepping closer. “I told you! I told you! The Vessel was not pure! We trained them, fought with them, and saw the hesitation—the will—but you refused to listen. You had so much faith in your plan, in your foresight, but now—”

She hesitated. Now, there was nothing.

A kingdom at the edge of collapse.

An Impure Vessel locked away, forever sealed, yet unable to contain the rot completely.

And still, he sat.

Something inside her snapped. She strode forward, emboldened by her anger, until she stood at the foot of his throne. “Say something! Look at me!”

Her arms lifted, intending to grip the King by His shoulders, to shake the stupid out of Him!

But the figure of the God-King she had looked up to so desperately in the past stopped her. She might be Unn's child, but this does not mean she can just so boldly disrespect another God, especially one she had believed.

Even if she has no lingering respect left.

His gaze finally shifted slowly, as if it pained Him. She could see the exhaustion, weariness, and failure in His eyes. Everything was hidden perfectly under a porcelain mask, one she had learned to interpret after centuries of servitude.

“There is no other plan.” The words were hollow. Empty. A declaration of finality.

Isma froze, her mind catching up with the utter desperation these simple words brought down on her shoulders.

The anguish and utter sheer feeling of hopelessness that they gave.

“You’re lying.” She said with gritted teeth. There is no possible way this is the truth.

He is the God-King. He created Hallownest and claimed to have given everyone a mind to think! How can He say there is no other plan?! There has to be another plan! It has to! Please.

His hands curled into fists.

“There is nothing more We can do.” His voice came out softer than she expected, a tinge of sheer tiredness covering it all.

As if He has given up.

Her breath caught. That was the moment she finally realized. He had given up. Truly given up. The Pale King, the Wyrm, the God-King of Hallownest—he had no more answers to give.

“You have seen the Infection returning,” she accused. “You’ve kept it hidden, but you saw it. And yet you have done nothing!”

His foresight would have foretold this exact situation long ago. So why has He kept it hidden? She cannot understand!

Has He wanted this all along? A Kingdom in shambles? Bugs distraught, in pain, and lost? Is He truly the sadistic monster they all have been whispering Him to be?

Still, silence.

She stepped back, shaking her head.

This wasn’t happening. He had always had a solution. A contingency. Another idea, another scheme, another path forward. But this time—

His voice, soft yet weighted, broke her thoughts.

“Since I turned to the Void,” he said, “my foresight has been corrupted.” His voice whispered hauntingly as if uttering those words was a grave sin.

She froze.

“I look into the future, yet I see nothing.” A broken whisper belonging to a being who has lost it all. Betting on Eternity and losing Everything He once held dear.

For the first time since she had known Him, the Pale King looked afraid. Lost. Confused.

Her stomach lurched. She thought she had felt fury before, but this was different. This was betrayal. He had lied—He had lied to everyone—To Hallownest. To her.

He had stood before His people and promised them eternity, and all the while, He had known the truth. He had known that His vision was broken. That the Infection still lived. That the kingdom was already lost.

For the past year, He has known all of it, and He has done naught but sit on that cursed throne!

Her claws clenched, shaking at her sides. “You—you knew.”

He said nothing.

“You knew!” she roared. “And you still went through with it! You knew that Hallow wasn’t truly pure! You knew that the Infection was returning, and you—”

Her breath hitched. He still wasn’t looking at her—He wasn’t denying it—He wasn’t denying any of it. And this dug deeper than a Nail to her stomach.

“There is no cost too great for an Eternal Kingdom,” he murmured. Then, softer, barely audible—

“Even at the mercy of progeny cursed.”

The words sent a chill through her core.

Progeny?

What progeny!?

Her mind screamed at her. How could one contain a God inside a mortal shell? The answer was that they couldn't...

Hallow wasn't any construct. They weren't even a construct who gained a Soul—a mind. No. Hallow was His child. A child He locked away .

Sealed alongside a Goddess of plague; filled with blazing hatred to Him and His kin.

"You have locked away your own child? You have left your child to suffer at the hands of a raging Goddess?" She questioned in a whisper, a mixture of emotions ranging from disgust to disappointment and even hatred laced in her voice. Her body trembled.

A single twitch from His tail, yet He did not answer—He did not deny it.

His form still in a throne;

a throne at the summit of a Castle.

A castle that has gone silent under a Kingdom;

a Kingdom that is burning with vicious rage.

And even though He remains motionless;

she saw through His lies—His act.

His stillness was not of stoicism or dignity, but of fear and uncertainty.

He knew there was no eternity here. He knew he had made a mistake. And yet, he still clung to his grand delusions—refusing to face the truth.

Isma couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. Her fury burned through her veins, hot and suffocating. The roots around her were screaming in agony alongside her soul.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered. Then, louder, “I won’t do this.”

She turned on her heel and stormed away from the throne room.

Her steps were heavy, her mind racing. She needed to do something—To fix this.

If the pale worm will not act, then she will.

Ogrim.

She had to find Ogrim.

She found him amidst chaos.

The capital was burning.

Not with fire, but with turmoil. She had barely made it into the city before she saw him, running—fleeing. She nearly called out to him, relief in her eyes, before she noticed the unmistakable orange glow flickering in the distance. Following. Approaching at a fast pace.

Nails and Lances ran after him, pursuing her beloved in unmistakable hatred.

A single figure led the charge.

Hegemol.

No—Not him. But something akin to him. Something that shone with deep orange inside his eyes. Seeping into his mind and whispering lies.

Ogrim reached her, panting, frantic, and she saw the shock in his eyes. “It’s—it’s Hegemol. He’s—”

But she already knew. The infection glowed viciously in the eyes of everyone she had once sworn to protect—every citizen, from young to old, commoner to noble.

She felt sick.

They had lost him.

Her mind spun. Everything was happening too fast.

“We need to go!” Ogrim said amidst the commotion, pulling Isma alongside him. His voice felt distant.

She followed, her mind in turmoil, cascading emotions and feelings faster than she could comprehend. No time to mourn. No time to think. They had to run. The city was lost; they had to go back. To the palace—

–

The palace…

She turned toward where it should have been. Where it had stood but a few hours prior. And yet—

It was gone.

Not in ruin, not crumbled—just gone. As if it had never existed at all.

Isma’s breath caught, her chest tightening like something had wrapped around her ribs and squeezed. She blinked, trying to make sense of what she saw, but the world refused to align itself with something logical. The towering structure, the shining halls, the King’s throne—that marvel of architecture—had been there. Just hours ago. It had been there. It had to be there .

She could still hear its echoes. The way her footsteps rang against the polished floors. The muffled whispers of the sentries. The steady hum of Soul that had filled the very walls. She could hear them—feel them—but there was nothing. Empty air. The foundations severed, cleanly cut like a limb lost in battle, and she didn’t even see the wound happen.

A sole Kingsmould lay broken in the ruins, abandoned in a way that resonated with her. No other soul remained to tell the tale of what transpired in those few hours.

‘The fire crackled. The ruins shifted. Distant voices twisted into shrieks, laughter, wails. Too loud. Too much. Her own heartbeat pounded in her ears—was that hers? Or the city’s? Or something else, something deeper?’

The world was spinning around her endlessly. There was no hope. Everything had gone wrong. The roots screamed in pain and agony.

0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o

Has this really happened? Is this reality? Or is this a dream? Is she infected? A husk attacking others amidst a nightmare?

She did not know if she was the one screaming. Sometimes, she felt like Hallow was the one in pain and not her.

Was she feeling them? Locked away in that Temple far above? Or is she slowly going crazy? Her world shattering at her fingertips due to a sin she has committed—this pain her penance.

0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o

She shook her head to clear the thoughts—the pain was not hers... Not hers... Not hers...

Shuddering under her breath, she started running again, her body mindlessly following Ogrim, who held her wrist with strength. There was nothing left in here for either of them. Their hearts pounding, their breaths short, they fled.

The White Palace’s gone, and the Capital has revolted—bursting with The Infected. They ran towards the only place left untouched in this mess.

Her stomach twisted. A bitter taste rose up her throat. Her fingers tingled—cold, numb, distant. Her heart hammered, too fast, too hard. Her skull felt like it would crack from the pressure.’

–

The Royal Waterways.

Her breath came too fast. Too shallow. She pressed a hand against her chest, willing it to slow, but it only made it worse. The world narrowed. Shadows twisted in the corners of her vision. Something pressed against her skull, pressing, pressing, PRESSING—

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but that only made it worse.

Hallow.

The doors shutting behind them. Chains rattling in the dark. The finality of it.

A breath in. Too sharp. Painful.

She should have stopped them.

A breath out. Too ragged. Choked.

She should have done more.

In. Her chest refused to expand fully. It was too tight. Too much.

She should have saved them.

Out. The air burned her throat.

She should have stopped this. Stopped this. Stopped this.

Nothing. That was her sin. She had done nothing.

Her head jerked up. She didn’t know when she started shaking or when her claws had dug into her arms hard enough to hurt. Ogrim’s hands were on her shoulders, grounding, solid, but he was saying something, and she couldn’t hear it. The world was too loud—her thoughts were too loud. A roaring in her ears, a scream that was silent but deafening. Was it hers? Was it Hallow’s? Was it the Queen’s?

She staggered back, pulling away from Ogrim’s grasp. Her legs barely held her. She was going to be sick. The capital was burning, the White Palace was gone, the Infection was rising, and the King—

The King had lied.

There was no plan. No future. No salvation.

She gasped, but the air was thick, choking her.

A mistake. A mistake. A mistake. Everything was a mistake.

Roots.

She could feel them, pulsing beneath her feet, deep in the earth, whispering, beckoning.

~~0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o~~

Rest.

Just for a moment.

~~0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o~~

Her stomach twisted. A bitter taste rose up her throat. Her fingers tingled—cold, numb, distant. Her heart hammered, too fast, too hard. Her skull felt like it would crack from the pressure.

And then, warmth. Gentle, quiet. No more fire, no more screams. Just the steady, ancient pulse of the roots, wrapping her in silence. The world melted away, swallowed in green, in sleep.’

A place with no pain, no regret. No grief. No mistakes.

She stumbled, barely aware of her own movement. Something warm wrapped around her wrist, coiling, pulling.

Ogrim shouted her name, but it was too far away. The world was too far away.

There was too much pain and, at the same time, no pain at all. She felt hot—too hot, and cold—too cold.

Roots coiled around her slowly, suffocatingly. And yet, they filled her with a calmness she has not felt in a long time—from when she was but a seedling.

So, she let herself be taken into that empty place.

To a place where she could finally breathe.

Far away from this nightmare.

Back into Unn’s Dreams.

...

One by one, they all fell. Isma, the Kindly, who sought to do anything in her power to protect a friend; In the end, she succumbed to her grief, wilting away into a dreamless dream.

--------------------Λ--------------------

Link for ao3 -> 'Impiety'

Chapter Two is finally out! A tragic end to the heroic tale of Isma the Kindly. How will the other Great Knights fare in their own endings of this sorrowful story? Writing the last portion about Isma's panic attack and ending was a tad hard (had to redo it like, three times), but I think I have managed to do a good job at it... Hopefully...

Anyways, I have a beta now! Shoutout to the awesomely great squishybeanfrog for helping me with the chapter! Go check out their work (https://archiveofourown.org/users/squishybeanfrog/pseuds/squishybeanfrog)! It is very sweet and angsty, just the way I like it!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcomed! I'd love to read your feedback on this tragic tale!

Chapters (Tumblr):

[First Ch] [Previous Ch] [Next Ch...]

Books:

[Last Part] [Next Part]

Pinned Post (Every Link)

#hollow knight #ImpietyAU #pure vessel #hk ogrim #hk isma #hk dryya #hk ze'mer #hk hegemol #hk pale king #hk white lady #angst #hk fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 writer

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hydropyro · 1 year ago

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Webs of Fate : Chapter 4

ao3 link

CW: Abdirak and all he entails

He had few enemies -- enemies being those whom he would kill or wished death on -- and of them, the majority were enemies of Loviatar foremost. He was not an incredibly well-known or popular man, but those who liked him did so intensely and deeply -- though he’d consider few to be his ‘friends.’ Many disliked him for his faith; they did not know him, nor did they understand Her Grace, so he paid them little mind. Few disliked him for him; fewer still he concerned himself with.

Abdirak considered himself unbiased and untethered. Much like the air did not discriminate who breathed it -- just going wherever the breeze carried -- Abdirak was a free agent, loyal only to his goddess and Her will.

As a younger man, he may have been more zealous, though he’d never gone as far as to seek out followers of Illmater as others did. He had also been more self-conscious -- unsure of who he was and his purpose. Unable to see others in fear of himself.

He had adversaries and acquaintances -- both of whom shifted like a tide; his vessel moored to Her will. As different as they all thought themselves to be, Abdirak had been on both sides of most coins. Over the years, he had learned that the similarities of those in opposition often greatly outweighed their differences.

As he watched the drow pull his blade over the meat of his dark, smooth chest in long, shallow, though deep enough to bleed strokes, he tried to remember the last time that he had harmed someone.

“Yes, child. Let Her hear your pain. Offer it to Her,” he murmured approvingly to the drow. He had cut two long stripes and had started a third.

He could fight. He fought well and practiced often when at the temple. He spent most of his time when at the temple in Calimport, but he’d been to nearly all of them in his life.

He had killed. Loviatar demanded that all followers of Illmater be removed -- and as a Kneeling One, those elders he’d followed took this to mean that they should die.

Abdirak did not regret their deaths. Ultimately, his actions were justified and aligned with Her will. But it was early in his time as a devout of Loviatar that Abdirak had determined he did not like unnecessary violence.

“Stop now.” He raised a hand to stop Alakvyr, gesturing for the blade to be returned to him. “Do you yearn for more?”

“Yea--” the drow’s eyes were a little distant. “I want to show your goddess how grateful I am for your assistance.”

Abdirak smirked and reached into a roll of instruments lying just inside his tent. From what he had felt in being compelled to join the drow and his party, the Pain doubted that Loviatar would change Her mind. But, he could not deny the twinge of satisfaction that he felt in knowing that She would not be opposed to withdrawing Abdirak’s aid -- or even turning him in opposition of the drow -- to see the elf’s spirit break. And, as intrigued as Abdirak was by the young elf and his companions, he would do it. As fiercely as he would defend Alakvyr and his friends’ lives tomorrow -- as was Her will -- so too would he take them should She ask it.

He produced a small vial of powder from his pack and showed it to Alakvyr. “Hold out your hand.”

“Okay.”

He felt a slight -- ache. After years of serving Her Grace, he had learned what each little twinge, tug, burn, and leap of his soul may mean. He felt more sure that She intended his time with the adventurers to be long-term. “When we share pain, child, either at my hand or under my instruction, you are to address me as ‘Sir’ or ‘Paingiver.’”

Deep red eyes met his a quick moment before Alakvyr nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

Abdirak uncapped the vial. “This powder has many minerals in it -- such as salts and the like. When rubbed into your wound, it will hurt but will not harm.

“If you would like to continue your tribute tonight, I’d ask that you use this.” The Paingiver poured a small amount into Alakvyr’s hand, then onto his own injured palm. He hissed as it stung and burned. After recapping the vial, Abdirak rubbed his palms together to work the powder deep into his wound.

Alakvyr did not hesitate to copy him, though his cries of pain were much more vocal. Pain was always more severe to the unaccustomed.

“Alakvyr?” The wizard’s voice came from just outside the ruin a moment before he rushed in.

“I’m okay,” the drow panted, one eye squeezed closed against the pain. His chest would feel like the flesh was burning and peeling. In time, it would ache, and by morning, it would be like a deep bruise -- though no additional damage would have been done.

“Is dinner ready?” The drow accepted the wizard’s assistance, climbing to his feet. He gestured for Abdirak to follow, and the older man did.

The wizard nodded, shot a suspicious look at Abdirak, then turned and started back into camp.

“They’ll warm up to you,” the drow assured the torturer.

Abdirak wasn’t concerned with their feelings.

“Let’s go eat.” Alakvyr led the way. “And -- thank you -- Sir.”

The food was not unpleasant, though would have benefitted from a more refined pallet cooking it. Abdirak certainly would not be able to outdo the wizard despite Gale’s being a novice.

“Chk,” the githyanki woman exclaimed upon hearing of Alakvyr’s plan for the upcoming day. “Defend the teethlings against the goblins? I suppose next, you’ll want to escort them all the way to Baldur’s Gate?

“We should put them out of their misery by delivering swift deaths.”

The vampire, who held a platter of food but had not begun eating, laughed. It sounded light and amused, but Abdirak’s practiced ear picked up on his anxiety.

“You were worried about me?” the Paingiver murmured and glanced at the human who had been so against his joining their party, offering him an amused smile.

He had never actually met a githyanki before. As much as he would have loved to get a good look at her -- feel the firmness of her muscles despite her slight frame -- see how a being from such a strict, militaristic society could hold up to his ministrations -- he doubted that she would let him get less than five feet from her.

“The tieflings,” Alakvyr emphasized, “are innocent. And, the Absolute Cult is responsible for our problem somehow.” He tapped his temple with a forefinger. “So regardless of how you feel about the tieflings, it will still be necessary to fight the True Souls and their goblin army.”

The githyanki considered the logic briefly and seemed satisfied, though not enthused. “As long as it does not delay us in locating the creche once this Absolute Cult has been dealt with.”

Abdirak wasn’t quite sure what had been said, but all of the eyes around the fire rolled, and there were a few exasperated sighs that went unnoticed -- or ignored -- by the alien woman.

“So, what’s your deal?” the tiefling woman spoke up after a long silence, and Abdirak found her fiery eyes on him.

She was a puzzle. Abdirak had never been too keen on the infernal, but even he could smell the Hells on her. Despite appearances, she was gentle and amicable as far as he had observed. She was careful not to disturb the others but would sing to herself and do small dances that were so joyous it was almost sickening.

“Karlach, is it?” Abdirak placed his utensils on the empty dish and rested them on the ground beside where he knelt. “I am a priest of the Maiden of Pain, Loviatar.”

“You’ve talked about her quite a bit.” The exasperated expression returned, which was particularly amusing when directed at him. “Why are you here with us? What do you want?”

The Paingiver held up his hands. “My only desire is to serve my Maiden. She compelled me to join your camp and wants me to assist you tomorrow.

“It may surprise you to learn that Loviatan Clerics are capable healers.”

“Not capable fighters?” the githyanki scoffed.

“Not on your behalf, no.” His pleasant smile remained.

“I wouldn’t trust that one to have my back,” the excitable bard exclaimed. He sat cross-legged on the far side of the fire and peered through the flames anxiously. “You may get a knife in it.”

Abdirak wasn’t frequently offended by comments from people who didn’t understand him or his goddess, but calling his integrity into question was annoying. Still, it was unlikely that the whiney bard would be present at the battle. The Paingiver had nothing to prove to him -- or anyone -- and so kept his mouth closed.

“We need all of the help that we can get,” Alakvyr came to his defense. “He hasn’t harmed anyone--”

“Tell that to the treasure hunter,” the pigeon snapped.

“The treasure hunter that I kept alive?” Abdirak asked. “He would surely have died had the goblins had their way with him. He’s lucky my expertise was requested.”

“We have a hard day ahead of us,” the wizard spoke up before any discourse could escalate. He was sitting nearest to the bard and must have gotten an earful already. “We should all get some rest.”

“I’ll take the first watch,” the vampire offered, and no one argued.

#baldur’s gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #webs of fate #abdirak #we love abdirak #alakvyr #fan fiction

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gameinfoxtbr · 7 months ago

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Heir of Light Latest Update and News

Heir of Light the game has just received a major update with new features and heroes, as well as some new modes. With this update implemented, both the Hello World and those who have been playing these games since childhood get value. Everything here is new: powerful characters and fresh events that are guaranteed to keep the situation lively! Ready to dive in? Join us to learn more new trends or news about Heir of Light! 👾✨

GameInfoX 🆕 What’s New in Heir of Light? In the current update on Heir of Light, players are presented with several additions alongside the improvements that have been incorporated into gameplay. Here’s a breakdown of what you can expect: - New Heroes: The update has added a pool of entirely new superheroes with enhanced specials that can turn the tide of a fight. I don’t know if you are looking for shocking enemies or strategic allies, but these new heroes introduce new levels of strategy into the game. 🛡️⚔️ - Exclusive Events: New limited-time events are now available and they reward players with rare heroes, gear, and resources for a certain amount of time. You are welcome to participate to win these wonderful prizes as you indulge in the events!!! 🎁 - Expanded Storyline: In Heir of Light, the plot has become richer in new story chapters that reveal presumptions of the game’s background as dark and mysterious. Fans of the game can continue the adventures of the characters along with enhanced battles with bosses and events of the world. - Improved PvP: PvP experience has also been worked on so that PvP battles will be a fairly balanced fight against the other player. Get into the ring right away and challenge your friends, colleagues, or random folks to determine whose team is the strongest and take the top spot! Want to excel in the game? Check out the lowest Heir of Light Beginner Guide You shouldn’t ever lose out on the new content or in battle.

GameInfoX 🎯 Why Heir of Light Stands Out Heir of Light is a worthy representative of RPG games with a focus on unique dark fantasy settings, numerous strategies, and exciting possibilities of character customization. Here are a few reasons why the game has garnered a loyal following: - Dark and Immersive World: The game’s world has a great, gothic atmosphere and graphics that are rather unique for an RPG game. 💀🕸 - Strategic Depth: As for the gameplay, Heir of Light is not as straightforward as simpler RPGs where a player must learn how to organize the team, how it interacts with each other, and manage - Constant Updates: There are plans to release constant updates for Heir of Light where the developers add new content and further improvements as well as events. It guarantees that the

GameInfoX For more information about the creative personnel that have worked on this game, visit the Com2uS Heir of Light page to find out more about the developers and their plans. 🏆 Heir of Light Tier List Ask yourself which heroes are more effective to set your focus on and enhance in a team. Here is the complete new Heir of Light Eclipse Tier List that helps you know which one is the strongest character with a powerful skill set and play style.

GameInfoX Here are some of the top-tier heroes in the current meta: - Lucien: A powerful AoE damager, which is good for any composition in the game, and a master of gun sling and swordplay. 🌪️ - Sphinx: It is the Protector class and it is as important as the rest because her strengths lay in defense and healing, which are important if you want to keep your team alive during hard fights. - Kaitos: A strongly armed unit that fearslessly takes blows and shields his companions. 🛠️ Tips for New Players If you’re new to Heir of Light, here are a few essential tips to help you get started on the right foot: - Focus on Building a Balanced Team: Due to these factors, the important thing to remember is to make a team with offense, defense, and support heroes. Ensure your team can cope effectively when in combat situations on the battlefield. - Utilize Codes for Free Rewards: Heir of Light Codes can give new players and veterans free items and resources making them useful for everyone. Often, opening these codes allows you to get gems, gold, and other treats that can be useful at the initial stages of the game! 💎 - Level Up Strategically: However, do not level up all of your heroes simultaneously with a vengeance. It will be more economical initially to try and make your core players grateful and fully developed to the next level if needed. - Take Part in Events: Gathering points is the best reward I’ve ever got in this game so it is recommended to join limited-time events to get some extra special rewards such as new appearance of heroes or gears. 💬 Frequently Asked Questions Q1: How can I get Heir of Light?A: Heir of Light is available to download on both Android and iOS operating systems. They can download the game from the Google Play Store by clicking on this link.Q2: How can I reveal the codes of the Heir of Light?A: To redeem codes in the Heir of Light you need to go to the settings of the game and enter the code in the “Redeem” tab. Don’t forget about new Heir of Light Eclipse Codes which unlock free items~Q3: Are Heir of Light free?A: Yes the game Heir of Light is free to play, the players can also use a lot of money on a game and purchase in-app products to boost their levels or for getting more stylish characters.Q4: What are the top heroes in Heir of Light?A: To find out more about the latest Heir of Light heroes list to see which ones occupy the tops of the Heir of Light Eclipse Tier List. The three best baby names according to the predictions are Lucien, Sphinx, and Kaitos.Q5: Is there an update often with Heir of Light?A: Yes the developers continually launch updates which are usually new heroes, events, or even improvements on some features. 📣 Join the Heir of Light Community Heir of Light Facebook page is intended for announcements, status, and event notifications. As an addition, here you can find other players or gamers and share your experience in games! 🌟 On the Tales of the World seems to follow a similar trajectory, with a wealth of content set within Heir of Light’s dark fantasy setting and involving gameplay fans love. No matter how often you play or how long you have been playing you can always find something interesting in new releases. Therefore, grab your weapons, prepare your heroes and it is high time for you to begin the battle against darkness! ⚔️ Word Count: 980 Read the full article

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theclaymorrigan · 2 years ago

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FORGING THE SWORD OF THE GREAT QUEEN 📜 Scroll Two:

"Do you have a name?" my Khajiit partner whispered. "Aside from 'Canvaroth', this one means."

"I *am* Canvaroth," I answered in my own whisper. "You are Fanacas. What other names do we need?"

It was the waning hours of darkness. We were lying in our bellies upon a ridge overlooking an Imperial encampment. We spoke under our breath so as not to wake the sleeping soldiers.

"Those are not our names," he persisted. "Canvaroth means 'scout'. That is your function, not your name. The Dominion call khajiit Fanacas or 'white'. That is khajiit's fur color. These are not names, they are labels as if for tools in a smithy."

"We *are* their tools," I droned in monotone. "Their *weapons* to be more precise. I have been trained as a sniper and assassin as long as I care to remember."

"But what of that which you do not care to remember?" chided the one I knew as Fanacas. "Such as your name?"

I coldly met his gaze. "The name my parents gave me has not been spoken since they were put to the sword. I will not hear it spoken again until they greet me beyond the veil."

"It is not that you don't care to remember," he smiled sadly. "It is that you care too much to do so."

"Be silent," I growled, which he promptly ignored.

"This one is named Sinder," he said mildly. "Khajiit would have you know this in case he falls in battle."

Part of me felt ashamed of snapping at him but I seldom listened to that part in those days. "Sender of what?"

He chuckled. "Just Sinder. This one was conscripted into the army of The Dominion because he achieved mastery of Vrin Thak."

"Aren't you a bit young for that?" I was about to ask but fell silent at a faint sound behind us. Fanacas; or Sinder as I now knew him, heard it as well. A small force of warriors was moving along the riverbank that footed the ridge we lay upon. To their credit, the force moved stealthily enough that the Imperial Sentries had not noticed it any more than they had detected Sinder and I. What little could be seen by the waning light of the moons revealed what appeared to be monstrous creatures; antlered or feathered or both. We expected to see them circle our position and converge on the Imperials but they made their way downriver.

Sinder and I shared a gaze. If the creatures simply followed the river's course, they would bypass the cold base-camp we had embarked from. But if they deviated only a few hundred yards northeast, the camp full of Thalmor and Dominion troops would be discovered, resting in anticipation of their dawn ambush of the Imperials.

We were a few leagues from a city called Markarth far behind the enemy lines of what was being called The Great War. A local uprising had wrested the walled settlement from Imperial control. The Thalmor party of The Aldmeri Dominion saw this as an opportunity to divide our enemies from within their own borders and foster dissent. But we were not to openly support the rebels. If our lean strike force was discovered, Somerset would deny all knowledge. We would be 'burned' in the military parlance. The force was loyal to Saudalf (who we called "Sod-Off" behind his back) the Thalmor who had burned my mother's head twelve years past. Saudalf was one of Lord Naarifin's personal entourage and a major player in something they called The Culling. He was also at the camp awaiting a report from "Fanacas" and myself. We slipped in behind the mysterious group and tailed them.

About a half-mile downstream, we rounded a bend in the river. We should have seen the band up ahead what we had judged a safe distance to follow from. There was nothing. Then they rose from concealment encircling us.

"The Reach belongs to The Forsworn!" I heard one say.

TO BE CONTINUED…

#elder scrolls #elder scrolls blades #skyrim #original character

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daturakillz · 2 years ago

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What do you need to hear right now? Pick an image!

No. 1.

Cards: RIDER WAITE TAROT:

King of pentacles, the magician, 2 of pentacles.

MAGICK OF YOU ORACLE:

26: protection: set personal boundaries. 27: resilience: burn away the past.

WOODLAND WARDENS:

The chipmunk and Laurel: success. The hound and pear: loyalty.

You have or will be stepping into a time of strength, success, and stability. You may have faced some recent struggles surrounding fluctuations regarding finances, stability, home life, work and or status. This could've been due to an unhealthy or less than favorable work / group situation, causing you to set boundaries and walk away.

You have (or will have) the tools available for you to embark on a new venture in business or career! If you're a practitioner of the arcane arts, I suggest using what you have on hand to do some sort of protection and prosperity spell or ritual! And if you are into astrology, and have your birth chart, look at your money houses and see if there's any particular transits going on for you at this time.

You're headed towards more committed and loyal bonds, finding people you can rely on and who can rely on you. Though the past may have been rocky, you're more than capable of producing a glorious harvest! And a harvest that you can share with those you love ♡

🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯

No. 2.

RIDER WAITE TAROT

Justice. 9 of swords. Knight of wands.

WOODLAND WARDENS

The ladybug and sweet pea happiness. The bobcat and blackthorn patience.

MAGICK OF YOU ORACLE

4: doable: the key is within your grasp. 16: merak: embrace oneness with the universe.

I heard "it's time to reflect." For you guys who picked number 2. I see that you've faced some major difficulties recently (or even over the past few years.) Through these harsh and trying times, you've likely developed some anxiety which in turn has lead to some sleepless or restless nights. And for that, I personally would like to say that I'm truly sorry to hear this. However! Despite what you may feel right now this period will come to an end. And I know, you're frustrated and impatient. But there are just somethings in this life we cannot rush, no matter how much we try to speed run to the finish line...sometimes we aren't meant to get there when we feel we should.

You maybe younger, and you're comparing yourself to others online or in your community that have reached seemingly impossible achievements. Maybe you're older, and you are upset at the life you've lead up until this point. No matter the age, you may feel you're slower than your peers, or lazy, or simply not good enough. But the human experience isn't about followers, ridiculous amounts of money and a picture perfect image. Being a late bloomer or simply not getting the current social trend, doesn't mean you're destined for failure or that something is wrong with you. The world we're living in is complex, distorted, and layered in so much that it can easily overwhelm us.

You deserve to discover your passions again, to reach for the light again, to walk with life without pressure again. Take some time to reflect, to recover, and don't push yourself to be something you are not. Sometimes, you just need to slow down and reevaluate what you want, what you're feeling, or what you simply need.

Happiness will find you again, it may not be today, it may not be this month. But slowly, as you recover and regain your strength you will find that the key is within your grasp. And when you find it, I want you to GRAB IT! Take what is yours because you have earned it my friend. Embrace the darkness, let it carry you to the light.

Justice will be served.

🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯

No. 3.

RIDER WAITE TAROT

3 of cups. King of Swords. Wheel of fortune.

MAGICK OF YOU ORACLE

12: hex: be still and allow the enemy to reveal themselves. 10: firgun: become a loving mirror.

WOODLAND WARDENS.

The weasel and pine: introspection. The turtle and coriander: satisfaction. The coyote and datura: deceit.

You may have had an altercation between enemies or discovered someone in your circle isn't as loyal and true as they've claimed. You may have had your suspicions about someone around you who isn't faithful or honest and the truth about them will be revealed. You're being advised not to act or react and instead allow them to trip themselves up on their own words / actions.

Regardless if you're currently going through this, or this entire ordeal has already happened and is a thing of the past or will be a thing in the near future, the most important thing for you to do now is be there for yourself. A period of introspection is necessary for you to process this action/betrayal or falling out.

Now, on the other side of the coin, and for a few of you. Whether you want to face it or not. It may have been you who lied to and betrayed someone you loved. You may of, at least at the time. Felt justified in your actions. Maybe you believed you were in the right, or you had all the answers. Maybe your view of them was distorted and murky, or you fell for lies and deceit from another about them. No matter the case, whether you did this on purpose or on accident, it's been eating at you subconsciously. You need to find the strength to face yourself and say "I fucked up." It ain't easy, believe me I know from personal experience. But you can't just pretend it didn't happen. We as people are going to hurt those around us with or without realizing it, none of us are innocent and none of us are perfect. You gotta look at yourself and still love who you are and accept that we all make mistakes. If you're truly sorry, and you now understand that your actions weren't just or simply were shitty, then apologize if you can. And if you can't, then as the God of War kratos said himself: don't be sorry, be better.

Allow the one you hurt to find peace, and allow yourself to find peace.

And as for those of you who were hurt, you will recover from this. This was fated to happen not because the universe is cruel or something big like that, but because that is simply how people are. The truth comes out eventually whether we'd like it to or not in most cases.

For both parties here, when all is set and done, you will find satisfaction and move on.

🕯🌹🕯🌹🕯🌹🕯

If you enjoyed this reading or it was accurate to you and your situation then please let me know, be it a simple like, follow/subscribe, a comment and or save! I hope you found this to be helpful, and that you have a great rest of your day or night!

Take care ♡

(I apologize for auto corrections and typos)

#astrology #esoteric #tarot #witchcraft #pick a pile #tarot reader #tarot reading #pick a card #pick a card channel #tarot card reading #what do you need to hear #pick an image

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themissinghand · 2 years ago

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Trash of the Count’s Family:

Your Name

Summary: In which Choi Han is under a spell and betrayal is just on the other side of loyalty. (Or Cale suffers)

Note: Okay, why do I have to make our puppy Choi Han suffer? Damn you inspiration, hitting me at the wrong time. Not manhwa canon obviously, but this could have happened if you know what I mean.

Warning: Spoilers for the novel (beyond the manhwa), you have been warned. Also, major character death.

All Choi Han could see was darkness, destruction, and blood.

Was it another illusion?

It could have been.

But Choi Han knew; his instincts were rarely ever wrong.

That this was reality.

That the darkness within him was real.

That the destruction around him became a norm.

That the blood on his body was not his.

Almost never his.

"Choi Han."

He pulled out his sword from a body. He heard an excruciating yell, before a cough of blood, and the sound of a fallen body on sand.

"C-Choi Han...you bastard."

"Human!"

Choi Han couldn't see who he had stabbed, but he knew.

He knew.

How could he not know who this was?

He heard a light chuckle, and then a hand went to grasp his shoulder. Choi Han felt a squeeze, and he forced himself to turn and see the mastermind.

His white mask fitted snugly over his face, and his short red hair flew in the air by the sheer amounts of mana he's using.

With a blast of magic, familiar screams filled his ears.

"Choi Han! No!"

Move!

"Good work, Choi Han."

He instantly looked away as if he was disgusted, and back to the person he'd stabbed.

He knew this was someone important, someone dear. He knew who this person was but why?

Choi Han couldn't move.

Tears rolled down his cheeks and landed on his clothing.

That blood on his clothing was not his.

Almost never his.

Always the blood of his enemies.

So why?

"Yes, Cale-nim."

And he follows 'Cale' as a faithful and loyal person he is.

#trash of the count's family #trash of the duke's family #tcf novel #tcf manhwa #choi han #cale henituse #white star #angst #manhwa #major character death #betrayal #totcf

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rexxdjarin · 3 years ago

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Captain's Log: Chapter 4

Trauma

Series Summary: The galaxy is in turmoil. The Republic has fallen, giving rise to the sinister reign of the totalitarian Empire, led by the insidious Emperor Palpatine. The millions of valiant clone troopers of the former Grand Army of the Republic are now blindly sworn, against their will, to protect a regime they once sought to destroy. After being saved from a terrible fate by his former-Jedi ally and close friend, Ahsoka Tano, seasoned veteran CT-7567 Clone Captain Rex remains loyal to the pillars of Democracy, freedom and truth that shaped the former Galactic Republic. We follow him now struggling to deal with the personal aftereffects of survival and finding his place in the galaxy alongside the only person he has left. You. The love of his life.

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Pairing: Captain Rex x Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns used) Word Count: 8.6k Series Rating: Explicit (18+ only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT) Chapter Summary: No one should ever have to see what Rex has seen. Hell Rex wishes he could stop seeing it every time he closes his eyes. Are there any truths in living nightmares? What else but love can rescue the wretched? Rex doesn't know where else to turn but to trust in his love for his brothers and his love for you. Maybe that's where he'll find some direction... Chapter Warnings: PTSD, Nightmares, Reliving Trauma, War Trauma, Twinge of Survivor's Guilt, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Major Character Loss, Mentions of Dead Bodies, References to Canon Plot, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Sex (p in v), Little Breed*ng Kink, Minor C*m Play, Language

“On your left, Sir!”

“Defensive formations!”

“We’ve got men down. Man down! Man down!”

Blaster fire rang out all around. Colors blinding my vision. It’s dark. I can’t see a fucking thing. I feel them all around me on all sides. Friendlies. My men. My brothers. We’re running defensive maneuvers, Fives to my left, Jesse to my right.

I’m shouting orders, but the adrenaline pumping blood into my ears is preventing me from hearing much else but my own thoughts. The colorful clouded smoke clears and before me are lofted piles of thousands and thousands of dead clankers. Higher than I can see the tops of. We press forward, marching through the dark landscape like we’ve done hundreds of times before.

Why does this feel different?

“Enemy’s ahead, boss. We’ve lost 3 platoons. No back up. Just us.” Fives spoke, his face spreading into that wide, determined smirk I remembered whenever I thought of him.

How could he be beside me? He’s dead. Fives is dead.

Jesse let out a snort beside me. “We’ve done better with less. Charge forward. Take ‘em out. We’ll be home by morning. Rex ole boy can go see his girl.” He elbowed me, raising his brows suggestively at me.

Jesse? Jesse’s dead too…

“Stop playing around Jess... Focus.” Someone behind us spoke. The General. He winked at me before pushing past us and igniting his lightsaber. He pointed us forward and we took off, blasters screaming into the clouded black fog disguising our enemies before us.

Suddenly, the scene changed. The piles around us started falling. Pieces of metal clanked beside us, exploding into oblivion onto the surface. As the piles fell, new ones rose to take their place. The sky-high mounds now taking the shape of Geonosian bugs, their gurgling blaster sounds filling my ears again for first the time in years.

Fives dropped in a blood curdling scream, gripping my arm hard enough to tear my pauldron clean off. “Captain! The General! The General!” I whipped around to go back for him and was instantly blocked by a flash of red light. Glowing like a lightsaber blade. Fives’ screams faded behind it. I backed up into Jesse who was muttering under his breath something I could just barely make out.

“Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders.”

I froze, unable to move my limbs to stop him. In one swift move, he lifted his blaster and fired at the General’s position.

“Jesse no!! This isn’t you!!“ I screamed, trying desperately to move myself between them.

“Terminate the Jedi. Or you’re in violation of order 66 and a traitor.” Jesse shouted, pulling out a second pistol and aiming it at me. My limbs moved me forward against my will, shouldering past Jesse and into view of Anakin, standing his ground with Ahsoka and General Kenobi in tow. Before I could think, before I could speak, Jesse fired at them, striking Ahsoka’s shoulder and knocking her down.

“Jesse!!! No!!!” I screamed, my own blaster lifting and firing at them too. I couldn’t control it.

That’s when I realized the piles. The piles now were Jedi. Thousands and thousands of Jedi. The masses growing and growing every time Jesse opened fire. Brown Jedi robes ignited what looked like funeral pyres into flames. The stench of fire and death filling the air and finally revealing where the big black fog shrouding the surface was coming from.

I finally freed myself from the looming grasp over me in time to reach Anakin, who stopped me in my tracks with the force. Ahsoka and General Kenobi were slumped behind him. I couldn’t tell if they were alive or dead. And Anakin himself didn’t look right. His eyes were dark, yellow pupils piercing through the fog between us. The space between he and I flashed with the same red glowing light that stopped me from getting to Fives.

“You were a good soldier, Rex. But you didn’t follow orders…” He boomed, the sound of his voice ricocheting around me and sending the burning piles crashing down between us. The red light broke, but now there were bodies. So many bodies. Too many bodies to get through to reach him.

“General Skywalker! Skywalker!!” I screamed, the sound turning to ashes in my throat and I started coughing. The booming sound of his voice surrounded me again, this time sounding like he was talking through a mask, dark and metallic.

“You can’t help me, Rex. No one can.”

“Anakin!!!” I shouted one final time, lurching forward into the falling bodies and shoving them aside trying to reach them. The sound of pressurized, labored breathing filled the air and no matter how fast I moved, I never got any closer. I shoved body after body out of my way, my muscles screaming to stop. Finally, I looked down and nearly got sick.

The bodies beneath me were no longer covered in the brown robes of a Jedi. But instead covered in plastoid. White plastoid, battle worn and hand-painted in hundreds of different colors and patterns. Colors I would always know by heart. Blue. Yellow. Gray. Green. Red.

Brothers. They were all brothers.

I looked across the barren burning landscape at millions and millions of smoldering piles, each one toppling over with the weight of my brothers’ corpses.

I gripped the chest piece of the closest brother to me and tore off his helmet. Yellow paint. Eyes closed. Scarred temple. Cody. He coughed, opening his eyes to look up at mine. “The nightmare was real. It was always there. The master plan. It’s what we were bred for.” He croaked, twisting his fist into the black clone uniform around my neck.

“Good soldiers follow orders. Long live…the Emperor…Good soldiers follow orders….For the Republic. For our freedom…For…our…brothers…” He gasped, fading into his imminent death in my arms.

“No….Cody….no!! Stop it!!! NO!” I screamed, pushing his body away from me back into the pile. I covered my face in my heads and fell to my knees, crushing the plastoid of whatever one of my brothers laid dead underneath me. All I could feel was loss, despair, grief and death. All I could hear was my own screaming.

I jolted bolt upright and nearly slammed my head on the top bunk. My chest was pounding, my hands gripping the sheets so tight my knuckles were white. Beads of sweat slid down my bare chest, my body so hot I felt like I had come down with something. I blinked my eyes open, the soft light of the ship’s living quarters immediately alerting me that it was a dream. It was just a dream. A nightmare. Worse than I’d ever had before. My fists were shaking uncontrollably, trying to steady myself back into reality. I panted, trying to catch my breath. Slow, deep breath in, hard exhale out. Over and over until my chest stops pounding.

Suddenly, I felt her. Gentle hands running soothing circles on my upper back and her other arm snaking its way around my bicep. “Rex…baby…what? What is it? You were screaming.” Her light, breathy whisper reaching my ears like the most beautiful lullaby I’d ever heard. I kept trying to slow my breathing, listening to the reassuring sound of her voice calling to me.

“A dream…it was just a dream…” I muttered, lifting my bicep that screamed in pain like I actually had just lived through that battle. “A nightmare.” I sighed, turning to the comfort of her figure beside me. I rested my trembling hand on hers and ran my fingertips along her knuckles. She was real. I could feel her. For once she wasn’t a dream.

“Sounded horrible my love. Do you…” she paused, scooting her body into mine to rest her chin on my shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it? About what happened?” Her sweet innocent eyes looked up at me with the most concern I’d ever seen. She shouldn’t have to hear about this stuff. No one should have to see what I’ve seen.

“I don’t…know where to start.” I sighed, knowing full well that she wouldn’t stop until I let it out. I didn’t like talking about this part of my job with anyone, but especially not with her. She wanted to understand. I knew she wanted to help. For the first time in my life, I was willing to admit I needed it. I had no one else to go to. My brothers are, at best, gone and, at worst, enslaved to work for the enemy. I didn’t have Kix around to heal my wounds. The ones outside or inside. She’s all I’ve got.

She slowly brought her body behind me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and guiding me back into her embrace. She leaned into my pillow, pulling me down on top of her and allowing my head to rest on the curves of her chest. She breathed deeply, so soft and slow and steady. What I wouldn’t give to have her hold me like this every time I slept. Her palm slid down my chest, resting it above my still racing heart, while her other hand laced around my right hand. “Just breathe, ok? Be with me. You’re alright.” She cooed, leaning down to place a kiss to my forehead.

“It was a nightmare…” I started, tightening my hold on her hand. “You know I’ve had those before. But this one…this was something else…something darker.” I shuddered remembering the horrifying yellow in the General’s eyes. I’d never forget it.

“Tell me. We’ll talk it through…” She urged, her hand on my heart absentmindedly tracing delicate circles onto my skin.

“The boys and I were fighting…Fives was there. And Jesse. And the General…” I closed my eyes, swallowing thickly as my ears began to ring with the haunting sound of Fives’ frightening scream. I’d only ever actually heard that sound once before and it wasn’t a memory I ever wanted to relive. “But every time we fought the enemy changed. The piles of dead were different things. Droids then bugs and then…Jedi…” I felt her hands stop.

“Jedi?” She repeated in a timid whisper. She knew. She saw what happened on Coruscant. She knew what we’d done. Even if I didn’t, everyone else did. They had to.

“Jedi. Millions of ‘em. Just…dead.” I gulped, the shaking returning to my hands as I remembered that bit wasn’t just in my head. That happened. It really happened.

“Did you..” she asked, pausing as she waited breathlessly for my answer.

“No. Not in the dream and not in real life either. It’s important to me that you know that. I didn’t kill my Jedi. I won’t ever.” I balled both my fists up in anger. Ahsoka removing that chip gave me the freedom to make that choice. Maker knows I might be the only clone alive who had that right. And it made me angry. More angry than I’ve ever felt. More angry than I could ever remember having the ability to feel. Uninhibited anger. Maybe without the chip that emotion was finally unlocked. I guess if this is how Prime felt all the time I could see why they wanted to suppress this in us.

“I know you wouldn’t. I know you. But I don’t understand. Why the Jedi? How could someone create all of you…give you life only to use you like this…it’s not just unfair...it’s cruel.” She whimpered, tears slowly falling down her face and dripping onto my shoulders.

“I…I don’t know. I don’t know anything about fairness. Don’t think I ever did. I haven’t really known freedom until now. Not until Ahsoka gave it to me.” I muttered, speaking out loud the truth I’d deep down always known. We were used. We were in a lot of ways enslaved. I thought back to that altercation with Slick all those years ago. He couldn’t have known about the chips or about the order. But he wasn’t wrong. We didn’t have freedom. We didn’t have choice. While what we were fighting for was under noble pretenses, we weren’t asked if this was something we wanted. We were just lined up and sent out. The irony of being treated no differently than the droids we hated so much…It killed me that I couldn’t see it. Not until it was too late for us.

“Well…whoever did this…whoever created you and manipulated you all was no friend to the Jedi and certainly had no regard for human life. I can think of only one person. Though if what I think is true…then the entire galaxy was being manipulated from the start. From the very second you were created, Rex.” She explained, pausing briefly before her voice dropped to a deathly quiet whisper. “Palpatine is a dictator.”

“He gave the order. Which means he was the one who killed Fives to hide the truth. I’d imagine he’s taken the senate by now, right?” I asked, truly afraid of what the answer might be.

“Yes. He’s essentially dissolved the senate. Taken away democracy. If you could’ve seen the look on Padmé’s face…she was heartbroken.” She replied, removing her hand from mine probably to wipe away tears.

I shifted nervously. Talking about Padmé just made me think about Anakin. Whatever happened before the Order was given was pretty blurry in my brain. But I distinctly remember Ahsoka having a bad feeling. Maybe she sensed what was coming somehow. Or…maybe the General being in my dream was an omen or something. I knew Anakin. Better than almost everyone. Like Ahsoka, he would’ve died rather than hurt us clones. Maybe Ahsoka was going to look for him. If anyone could survive in unmitigated chaos, he could.

“Cyare, did Padmé hear from General Skywalker the last time you saw her?” I asked cautiously, unsure if she knew anything about their relationship. I doubt anyone knew as much as I did.

“N-not that I was aware of. I didn’t ask. She did seem worried about him. She always worried about him.” She drifted off. “Was she…worried about him the way I worried about you?” She asked.

I bit the inside of my cheek, my entire body freezing. This was my most closely guarded secret. Next to my own of course. Anakin would kill me if I told anyone. But stars he was likely dead anyway. Someone would have to break it to Padmé. Since there was no way I was going without her, I guess she’d have to know too.

“Yes. Just like us.” I responded, my gut twisting a little as I thought about having to explain to Padmé that her husband was killed by his own brainwashed men.

“…I knew it.” She chuckled softly. “They weren’t exactly subtle if you paid attention.”

“I don’t think the General was ever good at that.” I laughed, remembering all the times he was bouncing around excitedly just seconds before she’d answer one of their secret holocalls. “I’d like to think he lived. Though he didn’t seem right in my dream either..” I sighed out, remembering his words and the weird metallic breathing. I decided right then and there to keep that part of my dream to myself. It was too disturbing and way too dark to tell anyone. You can’t help me, no one can. That wasn’t the Anakin I knew.

“You’ve...been through a lot these last few days. It’s going to take a lot of time to get past. Anytime you need, you can talk to me about it. The more you talk things through, the better you’ll feel. I know it’s hard, baby.” She muttered, reaching down to hug me tightly.

I patted her hand and tipped my chin up to kiss her gently. “I’d like that. As long as it doesn’t weigh you down too much.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s too heavy a burden for you to carry by yourself anymore, Rex.” She whispered, looking into my eyes from above me. Fuck she’s so pretty. She looked tired. She must’ve stayed up all night watching me to make sure I slept. I didn’t deserve something this good. She deserved something better than well…whatever I was now. Don’t think I’d be considered a hero. Not even sure I’m considered a person on most systems.

Can you still be called a hero if you lose everything you fought for? If you couldn’t save everyone you fought for?

I sighed, my chest feeling hollow and my mind swimming with questions I might never get the answers to. I had to keep moving. If I’m moving, I’m not useless. If I’m going somewhere, I’m still on a mission. Even if it’s just for myself and my brothers’ memories. If I am still breathing, I’ll keep fighting.

“You’ve got the ship headed to the coordinates I programmed right?” I asked, pulling myself up to a sitting position and tossing my legs over the side of the bed.

“Mhm. Saleucami. You kept muttering something about Cut. Who’s Cut? The whole planet’s farmers. How do you know any farmers?” She joked, tossing a pillow at me gently.

“Cut Lawquane. He’s a brother. A deserter. But still my brother. Saved my life once. Helped him protect his family.” I explained, rubbing my hand over the faded scar on my chest. “That’s where I got this. Nasty blaster shot. Watched over me when I almost died.” I chuckled, remembering the looks on his little kids’ faces when they realized their Dad’s face was one of millions out there. Cute little things.

Little did she know that had I not almost died on that mission I might have never had the courage to ask her out. Might have never thought about having something, someone for myself. Cut would be blown away that I’d let my guard down, that I’d gone off book enough to have a girl of my own. I kinda hope he likes her. That he approves. That he’s proud of me. Looking for my brother’s approval? Ha. Stars- who even am I anymore?

Maybe Cut could make some sense of things. Maybe he knew something we could do. I can’t just sit here knowing that he’s out there with that chip still in his head. At the very least, I’d have to warn him about it. Help him remove it. I won’t be able to live with myself if I let another brother die. Someone I can actually help this time.

“What do you mean by family?” She asked, tipping her head at me curiously. She crawled next to me and sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing the closest item of clothing to her, my red fatigues, and throwing it on her. How is it she looks so good in everything? Especially my clothes…

I shook my thoughts away, “he has 2 kids. Not sure if they’re adopted or if they’re…his.” I responded, both of their innocent faces imprinted in my brain more than I had realized up until now. I had never asked. I guess it didn’t matter. Cut managed to do the bravest thing I’d ever seen one of my brothers do. Choose. His family might not be by blood, but it was the family he chose. The life he wanted for himself. He did the unthinkable, defied orders and went out on his own of his own free will. At the time, I thought it was selfish, reckless and traitorous. But now? Hell maybe he was the smartest one of all of us. He had what the rest of us never knew. Freedom.

“So he’s not a soldier? Did he defect?” She asked, reading between the lines the longer I paused to think.

“Technically, yes. Almost reported him when I woke up there after the injury. But those two little ones changed everything for me. He was their Father. I couldn’t take that away from them. Made me rethink a lot of things…” I drifted off, finally turning to look into her eyes. I hope she knew what I meant.

“Oh. I have a lot to thank him for then I suppose.” She laughed, her eyes twinkling as a smile grew across her face. She knew. She always knew exactly how to read me. That was a skill not many had. At least not many who weren’t my batch mates. Even my men struggled most of the time.

“Best way we can thank him is to make sure the chip doesn’t affect him or harm his family in any way. I owe him that. With what I know, we can help him.” I looked down at where my fists were tightening unconsciously on my thigh.

“Is that something you can do? How…how did Ahsoka do it?” She asked, gently working at my fingers to loosen the tension in my fists and taking my hand in hers. She stroked the bare skin on the back of my hands lovingly, drawing my attention away from the anger.

“We used the med bay on one of the republic ships. If we get to any medical station we should be able to do it ourselves. If we have to. Though, I don’t think Cut has anything like that anywhere near him. Otherwise, I would never have stayed there to begin with.” I bit my lower lip in thought. Where could we go that we wouldn’t be noticed? “We’ll probably have to look for somewhere safe. Where no one asks questions.”

“It’ll probably have to be off world. I hope his family will be ok with him gone for a bit.” She responded, her tone almost scolding, like she knew this was a lot to ask of someone. I knew it was. But better him be gone for a little bit to fix this than let it kill him or the people he loves.

“Let’s research places we can go. Old republic medical stations. Maybe something decommissioned. So long as it still functions.” I thought out loud. No way the Empire’s had time to focus on stragglers or outliers.

“It’s already added to the mission log.” She replied, kissing my cheek to seal the deal. “I think we just found something helpful we can do, Rex.“ She slowly slid herself onto my lap, looping her arms over my shoulders. “I know nothing will stop you from protecting people. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

I tipped my chin up, desperate for more of her. To fill my senses with nothing but the sweet, safe distraction of her. The heavy feeling weighing down every part of my soul felt just a little bit more bearable with her beside me. I brought a cautious hand up to her face and brushed her very messy hair behind her ears.

“I’m so glad you’re here with me.” I answered, watching the expression in her tired eyes turn from concern to affection in a heartbeat. “I’ve got a lot to keep fighting for huh?”

She grinned, running her thumb down the ages old scar on my chin. “I think no matter what happens, you’ll never give up fighting. And while you’re out there saving people, I’ll be here to protect you.” Her eyes blazed with passionate intensity, a fierce loyalty that wasn’t ingrained in her without question like mine and my brothers. This type of undying loyalty was of her own choosing. She chose me. I had to do my best to honor that choice. I more than anyone know the value of that. Her independence, her emotions guiding her to make decisions she knew in her heart were right, I admired everything about her. She had a type of strength I held in the highest regard. Her ability to love, which wasn’t a weakness in the slightest. It made her intentions clear and every action she took powerful. She was a fighter, too. I love her more than she’d ever know. Maybe more than any clone even knew was possible for guys like us.

“You’re cute when you get all fired up, ya know…” I laughed, tipping my head back to look her up and down, drowning in my clothes. What few possessions I had covering the only thing that truly was mine and mine alone. “I reckon you’re even more dangerous than I am.”

“You bet your ass, I am.” She retorted, spinning off my lap and onto the floor below, drawing her fingers in a practiced aim at a poster on the wall. “Bang. They’re dead.”

“Not if you’re shooting with your eyes closed like you just did…” I scoffed, getting up to follow her. I reached into my pile of clothes to grab one of my pistols, switching it to stun before handing it to her. “Here…try mine.”

She looked at me in surprise. I had always tried my best to keep my duty separate from my time with her. Armor off, helmet down, weapons away. None of that mattered now. My duty was to keep us alive and I’d have to tap into a side she didn’t ever see to do that.

She felt the weight of it in her hand, turning it over a few times to get a feel for it. “Are you sure I can handle this? I know it’s…special to you.” Her big eyes blinked up at me, determined to impress, but wisely knowing there’s a learning curve to this sort of thing.

“It is special. That’s why I’m teaching you how to use it.” The words fell out of my mouth a lot smoother than I expected. Maker that probably sounded so dumb.

She blushed, averting her eyes as a wide smile spread across her face. Guess it wasn’t that dumb. She motioned silently for me to follow and held it up with both hands, aiming the end toward a tattered poster of Aurra Sing hanging on the wall. “Come on then. Help me.”

I stepped behind her, pressing my bare chest against her shoulder blades. The fabric of my fatigues spilled over her shoulders and collected in baggy drapes under her arms, which would make her stance heavier than usual. The oversized top covered her entire torso, but not enough of her bottom half that I couldn’t feel how it swelled against my center. Just ignore it. You’ll never focus if you think about that. Cmon. Just like helping shiny’s. Totally not thinking about putting my face between her cheeks. She elbowed me gently, feeling me pause behind her.

“Uh…ahem…sorry. Ok so…just put the weight in your shoulders, not your arms. Like this…” I reached my arms around hers and rolled her shoulders more upright, her chest and chin lifting up to follow.

“Oh that feels better. I feel stronger. Like I can see a little better too.” She squealed with excitement. This was definitely not like training shinys.

“Right yeah. Ok now focus. Both eyes open. Exhale and fire. Pretty simple really.” I let go of my grip on her hands and backed away.

Bang bang bang

Three shots.

And she made every. single. one.

The old poster slid to the floor, the stun blasts singeing the page to bits. I knew she was clever and smart, but I didn’t know she knew her way around a blaster too. Maker how did she always manage to impress, to make me feel almost unworthy of her? “You played me…” I chuckled, stepping forward to grab her hips possessively and pulling her back into my chest.

“Did you really think I could be with the best soldier in the galaxy without having at least a little talent myself?” She turned to meet my face, laughing as her mouth spread into a wry smile. Her gaze flicked from my eyes to my lips, dropped open in surprise, and back. Slowly, she rolled her hips back, her bare ass pushing up against my center.

“Hmm I think you just wanted to grind this ass on me. Tease me a little.” I whispered urgently in her ear, burying my head into her neck. My palms slid underneath my shirt and up her sides slowly, her skin erupting in goosebumps at my touch. “You are very talented though. Full of surprises.” I breathed out slowly, placing a needy kiss to her skin and maneuvering her hips against the growing need in my tented bottoms.

“Mmm not the only thing I want to be full of, Rex.” Her arm wrapped around the back of my neck, pulling our bodies together as close as we could get. I hummed my approval and ran my palm across her lower tummy, holding her firmly in place as I rolled my stiffening cock against her perfectly round ass. I dragged my other rough hand along the soft skin of her chest, my fingers curling around her beautifully full breast and kneading gently. I pressed myself against her, my body melding with hers like muscle memory. Every touch a reminder that maybe my body was actually capable of bringing pleasure and delight. Like maybe I was made for more than just destruction.

“Filled you so good last night and you still need more? Can’t get enough of me hmm?” I traced my tongue along her collar bone, earning a quiet sigh and something unintelligible from her open mouth. “Love those pretty noises you make, cyare, but I can’t hear you…” I laughed, squeezing the flesh of her breast tighter in my hand.

“Never enough, Rex. Want more.” She whimpered, reaching back to grip my side as I pushed her into me harder. She writhed against me, her full ass brushing against me and her desperate pleas for more of me made my cock swell with the same need she was feeling. I was pent up for a month. I could give her more. So much more. I latched my lips to her neck and sucked hard, pulling and nipping marks into the skin. I laved over the mark with my tongue, passing over the spot slowly a few times. Both my hands gripped her hip bones, driving her center back into the shallow snap of my hips.

I walked us toward the wall she’d just shot at, kissing further up her neck and under her jaw as I tugged my shirt up over her head and onto the floor. She trembled at my touch and I looked down at her bare chest, watching her breathe faster in anticipation. Having this much of an effect on her was intoxicating and I couldn’t help but smile as I reminded myself that she’s all mine. All for me. I just want to spread her before me and fill her like last night. Fill her and make us feel whole again.

Gently, I pressed between her shoulder blades, her back arching pushing her tits against the wall. I smirked, wanting nothing more than to just rip my bottoms off and plow into her right now. “Spread ‘em. Get nice and open for me, cyar’ika.” I growled, stepping back to rest my hands on her waist. She looked back at me with a debauched grin, her eyes blown wide with desire.

A wicked sexy grin crossed her face, “Sir, yes, Sir.” she teased with an excited giggle. Slowly, her thighs parted, tipping her body forward to rest on the wall and present her dripping cunt to me. She looked back at me through hooded eyes, challenging me silently to take her just like this. I gulped, feeling a surge of arousal pump my cock even larger somehow. This view was the closest thing to a gift I’ve ever gotten in all my life and I made a mental note to snap a few pictures from this angle someday. Maker - I knew what she meant about it not being enough. I could fuck her a thousand times like this and I still would be driven mad by the image of her like this in my mind. Open and desperate and waiting for me.

With my two ungloved palms, I gripped at the flesh of her ass, kneading it roughly in my hands as I spread her open before me. I looked up at her; her hair falling all over her face, her eyes silently begging for me when her mouth couldn’t form words, her neck and collarbones littered with messy love-bites I’d marked her with. Unapologetically and proudly wearing all the signs I’d claimed her for maybe the first time without worrying about someone finding out. It was so kriffing hot it made my usually clear head spin and my chest ache with adoration. Between her legs was slick with arousal, the tiniest little scratches littered the insides of her thighs from where I’d gripped her yesterday. I was all over her. Everywhere. She was mine. And I wanted more of her. To make up for lost time maybe.

I brought my open palm down on her raised bottom with a slap. She let out a gasp, probably still a little sore from taking it so intensely the night before. “You look so fucking pretty like this. My pretty girl. You want to be filled up huh? Want to feel my cock stretch you out?” I groaned, sliding my still clothed bulge against her.

“Mhm,” she let out with a desperate whine. “No teasing please. Want you now. Please, Rex.”

Maker- every time she calls me by name like that. My name. My real chosen name. I feel safety. I feel known. I feel loved. My calculated, trained patience is gone, knowing nothing but her voice calling my name in my ears and my cock pumping with a thick arousal I cannot ignore. Cannot deny her.

“Cyar’ika…fuck. Keep calling my name like that. I’ll give you anything.” I confessed, running an eager hand along the waistband of my underwear and sliding them off in one rushed movement. I tipped my head back and exhaled in relief as my achingly hard cock released itself from the restraining fabric it was in. I grasped myself in hand, my thumb running over the slit to spread pearls of wet precum around the tip. Pumping my first over it a few times, I met her hungry gaze, eyes twinkling with aroused excitement and bottom lip pulled beneath her teeth. Kark the look in her eyes. So needy for it.

“Want you so bad, Rex. Please give me your cock. Please.” Her begging was just a ruse. A tease. She was working me up even more. And she knew it. Knew just how to play me. I could almost feel her hands on my pulse point, feeling how every sound she made sent my heart racing and that adrenaline I knew all too well rushing through my ears.

“Since you asked so nicely…” Without another thought, I reached my hand between her thighs and swiped gently along her folds, coating my fingers with the wet mess. She moaned loudly at the contact, scratching against the ship’s metal walls for any kind of stability. Her core was dripping and hot, tempting me to explore her further with just my hands. Feel how her walls flutter at my touch and hear her voice calling nothing but my name. But I couldn’t hold out much longer. Not when she felt like this.

I stepped impossibly closer to her backside, settling my hips just beneath her opening. I could feel her heat beckoning me inside her, that perfect pussy calling me carnally, sounding just as sweet and soothing as her voice did. I coaxed my slickly coated hand down my cock. My eyes rolled back. Stars above…I’m not gonna last 5 minutes.

With my chest pressed to her back, I dipped my head down beside hers, watching as she leaned in for a desperate kiss. My hand slid up the curve of her spine, and across her narrow shoulders which made her seem tiny and almost fragile beneath my looming figure. I trailed delicate fingertips up the length of her arm until I curled my fingers around hers. I caressed her with my broad thumb, a gesture I hoped was affectionate enough to signal how grateful I was to be here holding any part of her.

My forehead dipped to her shoulder, leaving slow, sloppy kisses along her clavicle. Her sighs got louder, mewling desperately each time I swirled my tongue along her simmering skin. My lower torso rubbed against her ass, grinding our soft skin together deliciously. I was thrusting into nothing, hovering my weeping cock close enough to her open center to feel the heat, but not entering yet. Just torturing myself. Agonizingly slowing down the pace to make this last even just a few seconds longer. My lips dragged against her neck, teeth nipping to keep my devouring lust for her at bay.

“Do you even know the things I want to do to you?” I whispered, kissing the juncture where her jaw met her neck. She shivered, the involuntary movement making her center finally roll against my cock beneath her. I let out a choked gasp, her slick folds making contact with me sending shockwaves through my limbs. With one finger, I turned her face toward mine and held my lips within inches of hers. She looked up into my eyes, her expression nothing but submission to her desire for me. I let out raspy, harsh breaths as the silent permission in her stare wrapped its greedy grip around my lungs.

“The way you make my blood boil, my hands shake, my chest burn.” I nuzzled my nose against her cheek. Her lips parted, jaw dropping open to let me in and give me what I wanted. My lips connected with hers, tongue slipping inside to taste hers. We shifted in tandem, lips meeting and parting in an erratic rhythm. Stars exploding, nebulas consuming entire planets couldn’t feel this overwhelming and good. I pulled away and felt a satisfied smile break across my face. With my lips close enough to brush hers with every word, I muttered, “I want to fuck you until all you can remember is how I feel inside you.”

With that, my hips snapped up, pressing my far too overstimulated cock in a space that was waiting for it. Perfectly too tight and beautifully receptive all at once. I prodded forward, knowing that every inch deeper was closer to home.

“Oh, Rex..” she whimpered, her jaw slack as her mouth dropped open in pleasure. Most beautiful sight in the galaxy. Had to be. She pushed back against me, easing herself down onto me for more.

“Look at you, pretty girl. Taking me so well.” I praised, sinking myself deeper and grunting as the pounding walls closed in around me. Blood rushed from everywhere in my body to exactly where my cock wedged firmly inside her. Overwhelming surges of heat passed over me, making my body slick with sweat. My cock leaped in excitement as she contracted around me.

“Wanted this. Just like this. Filling me up…my Rex.” She leaned back toward me, capturing my lips with hers.

I pulled out slowly, tip still resting just inside her opening. My hands flew back down to her ass, leaning my torso away from her to get a better view of my length disappearing between her cheeks. “Mesh’la…Want to bury myself in you. Got a great view back here.” I chuckled, pressing myself forward into her again and watching as she split open to sheath my cock inside her.

She smiled, all too happy to have me embedded in her core like this. “Deeper. As deep as you can go. I can take it.”

“I know you can. My strong girl. You want it like this, hmm?” I rested one hand on her shoulder, pulling her down as I shoved up into her. Her walls nearly resisted me, squelching sounds filling the room as I made space.

“Y-yes, Rex. Mmmm right there.” She moaned, her pretty voice breathy and breaking. Her eyes fluttered closed, getting lost in the feeling of my body connecting with hers. I repeated the movement, pounding my hip bones against the bouncing flesh of her ass. Each thrust so delightfully satisfying it was almost painful. I groaned as my tip hit her back wall, bottoming out and making her face contort in a small yelp. Her thighs were shaking from the intense contact, muscles desperately wanting to relax to take more of me.

Pleasure swirled through my core; an unending wave of bliss creeping closer to crashing. I was getting close. Way too close for having just started. But kark who could help it with a sight like this? I leaned into her, the beads of sweat on my bare chest running down as I moved to encompass her body with mine. My hips snapped faster, increasing the impassioned throbbing of my cock against her grounding walls. That feeling of home was back. Familiar, blissful and comforting. And it was building, lifting me higher and higher the tighter she gripped me inside her.

I curled my arm around her waist, pulling her off the wall to reach her swollen clit. She waited so patiently to be touched here, restraint far stronger than mine. I found the sensitive bud, gently manipulating it between two fingers. She cried out, tipping her head back to rest on my shoulder.

“I know you like that. I can feel how much you love it when I touch you.“ I rubbed faster, in time with my thrusts, relishing in the way she mewled and spasmed beneath me. She had an insane effect on me no matter what she did, but I had the same effect on her. That was a more powerful feeling that filled me with more pride than any battle I’d ever won. To have someone give themselves to me, to completely give in to how I overwhelm them. It was intoxicating. It always was. No matter how many times we did this.

I took in a deep breath, the scent of her filling my senses and sending ripples down my spine. I could feel myself faltering, my hips erratically snapping, desperately pressing into her for more. I wanted her closer, to be pulled deeper somehow, to almost melt us into one. I circled her clit faster, hearing her scream in pleasure as I worked to get her to where I was already. Stars I want to cum so bad.

“Rex -fuck- Rex, look at me. I-I want to look at you when I cum again. Please.” She begged, her moans breaking up her sentence. She pushed back off the wall, arching her back to press against me. I wrapped my arms around her torso, the change in position angling my cock so deep inside her I nearly choked. Our standing position made her too tight to handle and the slow burn of pressure that was building ignite like an explosion. White hot pleasure spread from my core to the tips of my fingers, my brain short circuiting and eyes rolling back in my head. Her delicate hand found the side of my cheek, her thumb tracing down the tightness of my jaw.

The pads of her fingers pressed away any remaining tension left in my body. The stress from the events of the last few days, the pain from the injuries I sustained surviving the crash, the anxiety from such a vivid nightmare, the ominous guilt gnawing at my heart…all gone in an instant. Big, bright, beautiful eyes met mine with fondness. A brave affection that could literally scare away anything I had left to fear. This was what I was searching for. This is what I needed to heal. The look in her eyes, the way that I feel was worth surviving for.

I grabbed her face with my palm and pulled her into a harsh, sincere kiss. I watched her expression change as the overwhelming feeling of pleasure took her. Her brows furrowed, knitting together as she focused on nothing but the shockwave jolting its way through her body. The spasming of her walls gripped me tighter, my thrusts faltering as she forced me to stay inside to the hilt. She contracted around me, and I felt myself topple, the head of my cock careening into the perfect spot.

“Mesh’la I’m fucking you full of me. Gonna cum..” I hissed between gritted teeth, holding out just long enough to get the words out before I broke. “Cum with me, my perfect girl.” I whispered against her skin; my words strained as I released the first pulsating wave inside her. My hands found her clit again, rolling tight circles on the sensitive bud. Tears rolled down her cheeks, the sensation overwhelming her so hard she cried.

“Rex, Rex, Rex.” She whimpered between desperate choking moans. Her hips slid down against me a final time and she writhed uncontrollably in my arms, hands flying down to where mine held her steady. She closed in around me so tight, hitting her climax so hard that her fingers dug into the strained muscles of my arms.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl, I’ve got you. Fuck that’s so perfect. Just what I -gah- just how I wanted.” My eyes screwed shut again, another white-hot pass rolling from the back of my neck to the tip of my cock. I shot another thick ribbon inside her and gasped as it sucked the life out of me. She was blubbering underneath me, muttering cute little curse words as she rocked herself up and down riding out the feeling. Normally, I’d have fainted from overstimulation like this. But I didn’t want this to end. I didn’t care. The longer this went on, the better I’d feel.

“Oh yeah see? I’m very- mmm ahhh-“ she sighed out, smiling as she sunk down on me again. “Very talented.”

I brushed the hair from her eyes and kissed her again. “Yes, you are. You have no idea.” I grumbled, unable to form words to explain how grateful I was that she could wipe my mind clean of what I was feeling. Even for just a little while.

“I think I have….some idea….” She finished with a yelp, hissing in a mixture of delight and pain as I slid out of her sloppily. She looked down, feeling the incredible amount of spend mixed inside her dripping out of her opening. Stars that’s hot. She spun around in my arms, so I could get a better look at it. I gazed up at her with an impressed smirk, my eyes quickly falling back to her center. Each overtired, fucked out spasm of her opening spilling more of us out of her.

“Mmmm someday I’m putting that in you and keeping it there. Filling you up with it and hoping it sticks.” I breathed out, like maybe saying it out loud would make it possible. Hell I didn’t even know if it was. I could ask Cut. He’d know. That’d be quite the conversation. Especially considering how I behaved last time.

She looked at me playfully, biting her bottom lip. “I hope you do. But then I wouldn’t get to taste…” She ran her fingers through it, collecting and bringing it to her mouth. Both lips parted to suck her fingers into her mouth and lick them clean of the mess we made.

“Filthy…what am I gonna do with you?” I remarked, hungrily pulling her naked body against mine.

She rolled her eyes, wrapping both arms around my neck and letting me lift her off her feet. “Just love me. I don’t need anything else.”

“That’s just that post-nut haze talking…” I teased, my hands grasping at the small of her back.

She tossed her head back and laughed, “it’s the truth and you know it.”

I knew. It was still hard to believe after all these years. But I knew. She was here with me when being with a renegade clone was like the most dangerous thing in the galaxy. I didn’t like the idea of her having to risk her life to be with me, but I can’t say I didn’t understand the sentiment. Because of course I did. I knew it all too well. I just never thought in a million years, that someone would risk everything for me. And now in the span of just a few hours, two nat-born beings did. For me. And as if reading my mind, like she always seemed to be able to, she pulled back to look at my face.

“I’d die for you.” She whispered, her hand stroking my cheekbone in delicate contrast to her fierce words. I knew what that meant. I was made to know sacrifice. To die for a cause was our entire reason for being. But never had any clone known someone willing to lay down their natural born life for theirs. For a clone’s life. Not out of duty or for the greater good, but because their clone life had meaning and value to them. To be loved as an equal was dedication to a cause higher than any that could be mandated by duty or orders. To be loved like this was a devotion I had only known amongst my brothers, my blood. My vode. Love like this…well we didn’t really have a single word for it. All I could think of to say, from the deepest depths of my subconscious was a phrase I’d never said in all my life.

“Kar’taylir darasuum.” To know in your heart? To hold in your heart? To know is to love. Something like that.

“You’ve never said that before…” She blinked, looking at me with a knowing smirk.

“So you know what it means?”

“You’ve never said that before while awake. But you talk an awful lot in your sleep…I did a lot of research. I even asked Fox once. He told me he was going to make fun of you for it.” She laughed, sighing deeply before continuing “it’s the only thing that ever seemed to soothe your nightmares, love. I pieced it together.”

I guess I remembered more Mando’a than I thought. I pulled her into my chest and hugged her tightly.

There weren’t enough words in the galaxy to express how grateful I was to have her. To not be alone right now. To not be…dead right now. Every time she spoke to me she found another way to break through this awful, gut wrenching guilt I feel. I wasn’t ok, I won’t be for a long while. But as long as I have her and as long as she’d have me, I knew I could be. Eventually. Holding on to her was to hold the smallest sliver of hope I had left. Maybe she could help me train it. To help it grow past the twisted dark knot of pain tangled inside me. I catch on quick. Always have.

Before I could speak and confess everything I was feeling, the ship started beeping, signaling our drop out of hyperspace. I nodded at her and motioned for her to get things together. I swallowed hard and put my feelings to the side, like I always did before the start of a new mission. Cut was out there and he needed me. He needed us. That chip could destroy everything he held dear, like it almost did me. And I won’t let that happen. He’s got what I’ve got. Someone to live for. And I won’t be burying anymore of my brothers today. Or ever.

Notes: I am formally apologizing to our beautiful sweet Rex for the shitty nightmare he had to have for the plot. I cried (I be crying a lot lol) thinking about him reliving battles and loss this traumatically. Hopefully our reader girly being here for him will continue making him feel better, safe and loved.

#captains log #captains log tag #wip captains log #captain rex #captain rex smut #captain rex x f!reader #captain rex x you #captain rex x reader #post order 66 rex #post order 66 #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfic #the clone wars fanfiction #the clones smut #rex x reader #rex x you #star wars

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emberwood-if · 2 years ago

Note

What kind of MC would the antagonist like if he were to meet them in the story? (Shy mc, stoic mc for example)

As in romantically? Or platonically?

Either way, antagonist values honesty over everything due to the nature of his past and who he is today, but he doesn’t have a preference for what kind of person he likes. He’s a red flag so if MC isn’t on his side and doesn’t believe in his end goal (even if it means having to engage in violence) then 🤷🏼‍♀️, you should expect to be a loyal follower if you want the antagonist to like you lol which isn’t healthy but he’s not exactly stable.

That’s where the problem lies with him: he wants people to be honest with him but he can’t take honesty that isn’t agreeing to everything he wants lol.

Right now he’s very one track minded. He has one end goal in mind and that makes him a bit obsessive. He also has major trust issues and believes anyone who isn’t on his side is an enemy, even those who wish to remain neutral.

The antagonist has a lot of inner demons to work through, but that’s what I like about his character! The darkness within him is a lot more complicated than just writing it off as “he’s evil.”

Basically, the MC he will like is the MC who is by his side no matter what!

#ask #emberwood #anonymous #char:antagonist #queued

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oksana-moods · 3 years ago

Text

Queens of Promise - Part 3

Summary: Being a princess doesn’t make you immune to the assault off memories. Good or bad.

A/N: It took me while longer but here we are. Another part for you to taste. Let me know your thoughts.

Warnings: Mentions of death, angst and language. Let me know if there are others.

Pt.1, Pt.2,

"We were the victims of ourselves"

The main road that linked Triskelion castle to Ultron Tower –Starksland’s household – was large and had a good amount of people and wanderers all year long. However, the small army responsible to escort the queen on her trip occupied most part of it.

A mile long retinue was far bigger than usual, but in periods of war, this was a must. One could never know when an enemy strike team could appear out of nowhere and cause problems to the queen’s protectors.

While the majority of Taharr’s army was resting, some were marching to Starksland, especially the Lords. Not being much fan of riding in a wagon yourself, you were riding northwest flanked by Lord Barton and Lord Wilson.

“Rumors has that you were the one to tell the Queen that I went after Scarlet Knight that day on the battle, and not south to Triskelion.” You spoke towards Lord Wilson who was riding his horse by your right.

“I wouldn’t be known as “the Falcon” if I didn’t have eyes everywhere, my princess. And I would be known as a dead man if I kept this from the Queen.” He flashed you his signature boyish smile and you laughed at his words.

Of course he was loyal to the queen, he was the commander of Taharr’s army after all and built his ascension battle after battle, fighting side by side with Calanthe. “So, I sent you reinforcements, a whole unit led by Lord Barton as a gift for nothing?”

“Not for nothing, princess. After Lord Barton arrived, we pushed Winter Soldier’s troops back and they were forced to retreat.” People said that Taharr finished the battle with a victory, but to your eyes there was only death and no victory at all.

Victory will be when this madness is over and is for the best if this ends sooner than later. Specially if you had to deal with the Kree again.

You shook these dark thoughts out of your head and smirked at Wilson. “So you won a battle with my reinforcements but you still had the nerve to snitch a Princess?” He was out of words for a second.

And when you and Barton started to laugh, he joined. Visibly relieved that you weren’t mad at him and how could you? He was doing his job and abiding to the Queen’s orders, something that you should have done, but didn’t.

However, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret following that lead and you remembered how surprised you were when Wanda’s beautiful face came into your sight. To say you were shocked was not enough.

There were a lot of knights and Ladies that fought in fronts and wars, that was common even, but princesses usually are raised to fight in the diplomatic war rather than with a sword. You and your mother used to be the only exception. Now there were three.

Granted, you haven’t met Princess Maximoff in a lot of occasions but in those few encounters you learned that she was intelligent and definitely had some fire running those veins. Still, you couldn’t discard the idea that she was rather superficial, or prissy. But now that changes everything.

She was very skilled with a sword and that alone showed years of practice, indicating that she wasn’t the type of princess that you thought she was. Her eyes told you that much and now you knew why. You just didn’t know why you couldn’t stop thinking about those green orbs.

In a private meeting, your mother asked you why you let them scape, knowing that having Princess Wanda as a hostage would, more than likely, force King Pietro to accept a surrender accord in order to get his sister back.

You knew that imprisoning Wanda was the quickest way to stop the war, but something didn’t feel right. You just don’t know why. There was something about her that intrigued you more than you’d like to admit.

Ever since Sokovia decided to march and trespass your borders, igniting the fire that broke out in the war, you felt as if something wasn’t right. As if there was a missing piece of this giant game between your borders and you couldn’t shake this feeling away.

When confronted about their motives to invade your territory, the Maximoffs claimed it was retaliation for the attacks and heist of food in the villages of their kingdom. Attacks that were credited to Taharr, even though you had nothing to do with it.

But they truly believed that you did. Even when Loki went to Wolfgang Castle – Sokovia’s household, as Taharr’s emissary and Queen Calanthe’s Spokesman, Pietro was unwavering in the negotiations and decided to keep his army’s advances.

You wondered if the attacks were just an allegation or, maybe, they were a ploy or an excuse to force the borders of Taharr a little bit southern than it is nowadays. This way, they’d have most of the gold mines on their territory. But more importantly, they’d have almost half of Taharr’s farms.

Taharr produced food throughout the year and never struggled with starvation. Furthermore, there were always a good amount of food to trade with neighboring kingdoms. Especially during winter. People sometimes mistake the gold of your coat of arms as referring to the mines on your territory when in fact they represented the corn. The food.

This could be a good excuse to start a war, you thought. Although you didn’t know Pietro other than passing by, Wanda didn’t seem to be the type of person that could do such thing with her own people. To start a war based on a petty caprice.

To kill, to let them starve, only to use it as a justification for more death and starvation while trying to defeat a long-term nemesis? You couldn’t conceive that a ruler would resort to such brutality to satisfy a whim. You wondered if you’d ever learn the truth about this story.

Your thoughts come to a halt at the sound of bugles, and you look up to meet a flag of light blue and gold, signaling that you have arrived in Ultron, one of the most technological kingdoms in the continent.

“Princess.” Lady Rambeau’s voice reaches your ear after the bugles stopped. “The Queen wishes to speak to you.” You were about to protest when she gave you a pointed look and added. “Now.”

You groaned, turning back your horse and abandon the retinue, to wait for your mother’s wagon to reach the gates. “You know you are a terrible friend, right? And subject.” You spoke to Maria that was by your side, probably to make sure you’d comply with what you were told.

“I am a good friend, actually. Have you lost count on how many times I saved your ass?” You laughed at her, she did in fact saved you more times than you can count. “And I am an amazing subject, just not to you. I serve the Queen of Taharr.”

“Then when I become the Queen will you do exactly as I order you to?” She narrowed her eyes at you, feigning seriousness. “Are you planning some sort of treason, Princess?” You laughed once more and this time she joined you.

“When and If you become Queen, I will abide to your orders, My Princess.” She spoke seriously this time.

“Without questioning me? Just blindly take my orders and comply with every single one of them?” You held her gaze.

“I will.” She bowed lightly and complemented. “But it seems that I have to babysit you until then.” You flashed her a genuinely smile and dropped to your feet to enter the carriage colored in Taharr’s colors, burgundy and gold.

---

“The Kree?” Tony looked as if he’d seen a ghost. “In my harbor?” He dropped his hands to his hips. “How dare he?” If he was speaking about Emperor Ronan, The Accuser, or King Pietro, you didn’t know.

Soon, King Tony and his advisor started to exchange ideas and thoughts with Queen Calanthe and her advisor, your brother. You knew you should stay and learn how to carry a diplomatic situation on times of war. However, you here bored and tired from the trip, even though you had the night to rest on one of the guest quarters.

You walked away from the main chamber and let your feet to wander through Ultron Castle. You always find it amusing how they’d build their household with rounded towers and not as the usual castle square format. It was beautiful, regardless.

Right outside the room you were at, there was a balcony that gave you a wide view of the room below. Now, its marble floor gleamed the same way it did when you were here for the first time. A smile creeped its way to your lips when a memory popped on your head regarding the day when King Tony Stark married Queen Pepper.

You moved in sync with the woman in front of you. One, two steps forward, then one, two, three steps to your right. The guests formed a small crowd to enjoy the group that was in a circle performing the most famous and traditional dance in Noveria, your continent. The rhythm was contagious with its cords and drums.

The stranger in front of you spun on her heels making her dress to float around her beautifully. Then she brought her hand close to yours. Right palm close to your right palm, but not touching, this way your right side was by her right side, no longer in front of each other. You moved in sync again, feet, hands and body moving in the perfect pace.

Two fast and heavy beats signaled the moment of changing partners, the ones leading would wait for the next dancer while the ones being led would move forward and repeat the set with another companion. You held your hand out waiting for your new partner when you felt a hand softly slipping into yours and you smiled when you saw who that hand belonged to.

Her perfect crimson dress hugged her curves on the right places while the round skirt floated around her when she moved. Somehow, she was even prettier than she was before the wedding started, how was this possible, though? Maybe witchcraft.

Her eyes were hard, yet, beautiful and you couldn’t help but compare their greenness with the dark green forests on the southeast on Taharr, you wondered if her eyes hid the same mysteries said forest held. She kept her eyes set on yours and, slowly, you felt yourself being dragged into those orbs.

One, two steps forward and Wanda moved swiftly with you, if possible, you moved as if you were one. A smirk graced her lips before she spoke. “Who would’ve thought that Taharr also learns dance and manners in addition to fighting.” There was some sort of glow in her eyes that you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

“Flatterer.” You breathed out and you could hear the gears turning on her head when she tried to understand if you spoke honestly or with sarcasm. One, two, three steps to the right and you used your hand on her waist to help her spun, eyes never straying away from each other.

“Is sarcasm a common tongue on your kingdom, Princess?” You smiled at her; you didn’t miss how she stressed the word princess. “One could think that sarcasm is a trait that runs in the blood of those who were born in Novi Grad.” Her face morphed from amusement to anger, and you wondered if hatred also run in the blood of those who were born in the north, in Sokovia.

“Don’t you get tired of being so full of yourself?” Her voice was low now that you were close again, hands close, but not touching. There was something about her words that, instead of lighting that fire inside your chest that seemed always to be ready to fight, made you want to hear it again. “What do you mean, Princess?” You spoke softly and she looked at you once more, trying to find traces of irony or sarcasm, this time, she found none.

“You walk, you speak and even breath as if you have everything figured out, as if you were better than everybody else, as if you were always right.” She spun one more time and when she stepped right back in front of you, she continued. “Tell me, isn’t this a lonely place, to be right all the time?” Her eyes portrayed genuinely curiosity and none of the usual teasing.

One, two steps forward in sync and your hand rested on her waist again. “We’re far from being right all the time, Maximoff. I am nothing but a very flawed being.” You spoke truly. Something in her voice, her eyes, compelled you to speak the truth, without mockery.

“You certainly don’t act like you are.” She tilted her head delicately and, in that moment, she looked so adorable that your head spun a bit faster than it should. Yet, you felt an urge to explain further. “Enemies must see our strength. Flaws and weakness may encourage rebellion, we can’t afford that.” You licked your lips. “But this part you already know, since you are a ruler yourself.”

You heard two fast and heavy beats and you took one step away from her, feet were heavy, as if they didn’t wanted to pull away from her at all. Another two fast and heavy beats signaled the end of the dance.

Applause filled the room were once there was music, but your eyes kept locked on those forest green orbs that tried to pierce your soul. The bubble broke when another song started, and new pairs were forming close to where you were. Wanda turned and walked out of the room in a fast pace without looking at you, but you followed her.

As soon as you reached the garden outside the doors, you felt the cold breeze touching your skin and you smiled at the stark contrast from the usual warmth in Triskelion. Few steps later and you were walking side by side with Wanda, silently enjoying the beautiful evening from Starksland. “Do you get lonely?” You spoke after a while and that made her head to snap at you, maybe she was trying to find the non-spoken words or hidden tones by looking at your eyes.

She pondered how much she could or should tell you, after all, Taharr were always one step away from being an enemy and if what she heard about their troops on the battlefield were half the truth, they were relentless and ruthless. However, right in that moment, she couldn’t bring herself to see you as a foe, not when your eyes conveyed genuine curiosity.

“Sometimes.” She spoke finally. “There aren’t many visitors in the North. And with these tensions between our realms, duty tends to take too much time.” You knew what she meant, and you related to that. Maybe on another realm, a princess could simply be pretty, learn how to sing and wait for a prince or a princess to get marry.

However, in Novi Grad lands there was always work, there was always training, there was always learning war tactics and troop maneuvers. There was always the brink of the war to worry about.

The borders between Taharr and Sokovia were always heated, always complicated and that forced both kingdoms to be continuously prepared for war. Even during peaceful times, you should be prepared for the next invasion. That’s the history of your feud.

“Maybe we could change that?” She dismissed your words and your idea by snorting not so ladylike and you smiled at the act. “I’d never imagine that you’d believe in fairy tales, Lioness.” You tilted your head at her reply and let a small laugh to scape your lips.

“I don’t. But one could dream of living in peace.” Your voice carried a childish dream, one that you learned in a very hard way that’d be unobtainable, there would always be war.

“I just wish we could be the Great Realm of Novi Grad once more, instead of always sleeping with an open eye. It gets tiring.” Your voice was light, but maybe you overstepped on your acquaintance with Wanda, and maybe this conversation was proof enough that, in a moment, humors could change just like moods would. Just like Wanda’s mood changed right now.

“Is all that you want right?” Her words were just as hard as her eyes. “The second we lay down our guards, your mother would slither your troops on OUR lands, you’d kill everyone in Sokovia and what a great deed would be to restore the Realm wouldn’t it?” Bewildered, you tried to search what you’d said wrong to make her that mad.

“The Lionesses will touch our realm only over my dead body and let me tell you this, princess, I’m not easy to kill.” The venom dripping her words lingered while she retreated to the castle, leaving you stunned at how fast things changed, stunned at how gorgeous she looked with anger flaring around her as if in a halo.

The memory broke when a voice called out your name. “Your presence is requested on the meeting.” You straightened to your full height and walked towards the room once again, mildly aware that you shouldn’t have left in first place.

The instant you stepped into the chamber, you were bombarded with King Tony’s inquiry. “What can you tell us about Agatha Harkness?” Suddenly, the room went cold and you felt like the air was taken from your lungs for you knew that woman all too well.

“She’s a sorcerer.” Your voice was oddly small, foreign even to your ears. Cleaning your throat, you continued. “She’s a Witch, actually. And works with the Kree. She’s beyond dangerous.” You crossed your arms on your chest. “Why?”

A wave of dread circled your body by remembering the last time you were face to face with the Witch. Somehow, she knew how to play with minds, and you don’t even know how you made it out alive.

“Now that you mentioned Kree activity on my harbors, I remember some of my scouts found one soldier or two wondering south in the continent, alleging they were searching something that Harkness had asked them to.” The war with the Kree was a wound far too fresh in everybody’s mind and that was evident in Tony’s tone, wary and not the jovial as usual.

Using a hand to massage an incoming headache, you spoke without facing the others attending the meeting, the same people as before. “When she captured me and my unit, she kept talking about some stones, powerful stones that would make her the most powerful witch in the world.”

Flashes from the time you were kept prisoner flooded your mind and you felt shivers covering your body and you could swear you heard screams of your past soldiers, perishing by her hands applying tortures.

“According to her knowledge, these stones can give the owner special powers or knowledge. She believed she’d become a goddess or something.” You closed your eyes and tried to fight back the ghosts that threatened to escape the trapdoor which you kept them locked away, for your sanity’s sake.

Your mother knew a lot of what had happened to you when you were imprisoned, but she saw how bad this subject still affected you. Loki held an empty expression on his face, however, he was shaking with hatred on the inside, for he knew every single detail from the nightmare you were reliving by talking about Harkness. He knew every dark part of that experience and he sworn to his gods that he’d kill Agatha whenever he had the chance.

Tony and Jarvis, on the other hand, knew that you and your unit were captured by the enemies during war but only heard about the tales and songs of your bravery and resilience, no need to say that those tales didn’t cover the truth. And seeing your reaction to the subject, they realized this fact quickly.

“Your highness, do you know if she had found any?” Jarvis calm demeanor brought you some sort of ease, even though the answer to that question was grimmer than anything. You nodded and when you raised your eyes, they were empty. “She had the Mind stone by then.” You licked your lips, then a smile devoid of any humor contorted your mouth. “And let me tell you this, it is not pretty.”

To be honest, you didn’t know if that stone indeed had the power to play with minds as she claimed, after all, weeks of torture and starvation can make a person very willing to do as they’re told. However, you can’t deny that you always felt uneasy when she played with it close to your eyes.

Though, it was easier to blame on the shiny stone for the vicious things you did, than to believe that you had in you the nerve to comply with that cruelty without being forced by a mystical stone.

“Does she still have it?” Tony questioned, visibly troubled by your somber words and expression. He always saw you as the laugh of the party, always with a smile on your face and ready to throw a joke, seeing you this bothered was unsettling and terrifying altogether.

Your eyes were few shades darker than usual. “No.” The worst moment as Commander, in your opinion, is when you must sacrifice your men to accomplish a task and to get rid of that stone, required more than willpower, required a heart much colder than you had at the time. “It is buried in the bottom of the Red Sea.”

“And before you ask, it is very unlikely that someone can find it.” The memory of the day you condemned an entire crew of good sailors to the death sent shivers down your spine. “It’s among the wrecked of my old ship and no one knows where I sank it.”

A true captain should go down with their ship and you were ready to sink with Mercury, however, Maria and First Mate Stakar dissuaded you and he took your place on the ship’s command, but Taharr couldn’t afford to lose its princess, especially with Queen Calanthe wounded.

The war was close to its end back then, but your duty to the world was to get rid of the Mind Stone, no matter how many lives were lost while doing so. Or so you keep saying to you so you could sleep at night.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximov #princess wanda #wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff x fem! reader #wanda x fem #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x reader #marvel wlw #royal au #queens of promise #princess reader #medieval au #noveria

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voidtekarc · 3 years ago

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Arcuris Rilanox

Character Profile

basics ––––

NAME: Arcuris Rilanox

AGE: 34

RACE: Garlean (Pureblood)

GENDER: Male

SEXUALITY: Heterosexual

MARITAL STATUS: In a relationship w/ @astarmaux

SERVER: Mateus, Crystal Data Center

physical appearance ––––

HAIR: White / Silver

EYES: Bright Teal. Silver pearly middle Garlean eye.

HEIGHT: 6′4″

BUILD: Tall and muscular

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: A scar runs along the bridge and ends along the bottom of the right side of his nose. A smaller scar lies along the side of his right cheek. On the same cheek there is a very jagged, blood red tattoo. If without clothing, there is a large nexus of thin scars and small holes along his major bone structures lining his body as if some kind of medical procedure took place.

COMMON ACCESSORIES: Most of the time he will be wearing head gear, bandanas or any form of garment to cover up his garlean eye in the middle of his forehead. He has advanced and tough body armor underneath a large trench coat. He always carries around his weapons and equipment concealed under his heavy vests and clothing unless in battle. A first aid kit will always be found on him as well as plenty of ammunition and even various explosives. Around his neck he has an elegant locket with a picture of a loved one on the inside.

Weapons associated: Gunblade, Pistol, Rifle (automatic / semi), and a scythe.

personal –––-

PROFESSION: Weapons Designer / Creator, Mercenary(Gunbreaker / Reaper / Warrior)

HOBBIES: Training, target practice, engineering weaponry / equipment, mechanical maintenance, reading, adventuring, researching voidsent and their magic.

LANGUAGES: Common, Garlean

RESIDENCE: Traveler. Uses his extensive funding to rest in inns or secluded locations.

FEARS: Losing his family and friends.

relationships –––-

SPOUSE: Lariscia (Wife - Deceased)

CHILDREN: None.

PARENTS: Lucius (Father), Clodia (Mother)

SIBLINGS: Gellerius (Brother- Deceased)

OTHER RELATIVES: Unknown

FRIENDS: Saedre Astarmaux (best friend), Asharri Luculla, Koh'li Yhoknu, Kihta Yhoknu, Mitsune Rokuyari, Kethael Alouxfevre

traits –––-

extroverted / introverted / in between

disorganized / organized / in between

close minded / open-minded / in between

calm / anxious / in between

disagreeable / agreeable/ in between

cautious / reckless/in between

patient / impatient / in between

outspoken / reserved / in between

leader / follower / in between

empathetic/ unemphatic / in between

optimistic/ pessimistic / in between

traditional / modern / in between

hard-working / lazy / in between

cultured / un-cultured/ in between

loyal / disloyal / in between

faithful / unfaithful / in between

additional information –––-

SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently/ to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes/ frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

possible hooks –––-

Weapons designer and crafting - He has wide knowledge of weapons and systems designed be Garlemald which gives him insight on their weaknesses and also how to replicate and counter them effectively.

Mercenary - Will take on many jobs that exploit his skills of being a powerful and battle hardened super weapons of Garlemald. He has to make a living to get supplies and pay for his imagination for creation habits.

Not too many friends - His garlean heritage and also his past military service to his home nation have left him targets of bounties and has made him a lot of enemies, especially those who are of Ala Mhigan descent. He is also considered a traitor and deserter of the Garlemald so his list of allies is very thin. If you want to be his friends you’re going to have to earn deep respect and trust.

Secrets lurking within - His metabolism rate is astounding which stretches well beyond normal limits. His wounds heal rapidly, he possesses super human strength, and his senses are unnaturally high, and can see aether currents as well as harness dark magic. This points to some kind of experimentation done to him while he served Garlemald or perhaps even something further from his past...

what I’m looking for ––––

Anything really. Friends. Enemies, Etc.

oocly, I am ––––

Not a new player to the FFXIV RP community but this is my second OC that I have created.

Work most days of the week and only really up late on Fridays and Saturdays. I am on Eastern Standard Time (EST) time. Late night anything on the weekdays is usually a no go for me. Typical 9-5 weekday work schedule (EST).

NOT interested in ERP. But you might find blood, gore, etc is my writing sometimes (not always) and I will try and tag it. Anything romantic in the fashion of behind closed doors topics is fade-to-black ONLY.

you can contact me via ––

Tumblr DM @arcurisrilanox

Discord - Ask me!

In-game on Mateus - Arcuris Rilanox

#Arcuris Rilanox #character profile #ffxiv rp #mateus #crystal data center #garleans #garlean #ffxiv #LFRP #LFFC

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helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

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New Enemies, New Alliances (Sweet Betrayal Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: Swearing, graphic description of injuries/death, violence, grief, blood, manipulation

Word count: 3,661

(A/N): Things are starting to get spicy, folks!

“Nice job today, I think you’d actually put up a fight in battle now,” Dream grabbed your hand and helped you up. You basked in the compliment, they were few and far between. Now, if you didn’t pass one of the Badlanders by accident, Dream and Lucius were the only ones to recognize your work.

You brushed off your training clothes and smiled to yourself when you saw Lucius move to pat you on the back before stopping himself. He’s been around for a month now and he still isn’t used to not being able to touch anyone. You remembered that when he was alive, physical touch was his love language. It must be killing him to not touch anybody.

“Yeah! I’d hate to be on the other side of your sword, homie!” You have no clue why he started to call you ‘homie’, he hated that word when he was alive. Faintly, you supposed that he must’ve learned it sometime between after he died and when he was looking for you as a ghost.

“Thanks, guys,” you fiddled with the handle of your sword before swinging it over to rest on your shoulder. The walk home was filled with Lucius and Dream exchanging terrible puns, much to your exasperation. Out of all the things he could’ve kept in his personality after he died, it just had to be his love for puns.

As the days passed and the war’s climax drew closer and closer, stress was increasing in the White House. Schlatt had become far more paranoid of traitors in the midst of the remaining cabinet, and truth be told you were also growing more paranoid. It was like you and Schlatt were the only ones completely loyal to Manberg anymore.

Lucius had increasingly grown worried for your well being, always trying to push you to go to bed early and urging you to distance yourself from Schlatt. In your opinion Lucius was insane for even suggesting the latter, Schlatt was everything to you. Without him, you’d be nothing.

“I really don’t-”

“Lucius, drop it,” you hissed out, rubbing your forehead and returning to your work. You needed to get this paperwork done as soon as you could, otherwise Schlatt would have your ass.

“I’m not going to ‘drop it’, (y/n). You need a break! All of this,” he swung his arms around to gesture at your office, “isn’t you.”

“You don’t understand, Lucius,” you bitterly chuckled and threw your quill down onto your desk. The ink that was on the tip splattered over the desk, staining the birch wood black. “This,” you gestured towards the office and walked over to the window. Lucius followed you and looked out at the city. You clasped your hands behind your back and smiled fondly at the sight of the endless buildings. “This is me.”

“I know you, you aren’t this- this brutal or bloody insane!” Lucius tried to put his hands on your shoulders but stopped himself, settling for crossing them across his chest. “You’re caring, funny, ambitious, and most importantly agreeable! Now, if someone even slightly crosses you, your first thought is revenge.”

“That person was a coward through and through. Aren’t you happy that I’m finally standing up for myself?”

“Standing up for yourself? Standing up for yourself? You get stepped on constantly by that ram asshole that you call a father, you call that standing up for yourself?”

You spun around to face him, looking down at his face with a harsh glare, “you have no right to bring Schlatt up, he’s done everything for me while you were just galavanting around the SMP doing Ender knows what! He’s the one that took me in. He’s the one that cared for me. He’s the one who made me who I am today. He’s the one that made me less of a coward.”

“Are you serious? He’s the one that completely fucked up your life! When was the last time he’s said anything that bordered on nice to you? When was the last time he said he loves you? I just want the best for you, (y/n),” he ran a hand through his hair and looked up at you in desperation and frustration. “You wouldn’t be this mentally unstable or this disfigured if you would’ve just stayed away from him like I told you to do when I was alive.”

“You clearly don’t know what’s best for me if you’re too blind to know that Schlatt changed me for the better,” you scoffed to yourself. “That person left the second I killed you.”

You watched as his already pale skin blanched impossibly and his eyes widened in horror. “You- you what?”

So he doesn’t remember his own death? How interesting.

“You don’t remember? You were my first kill, I can still remember the crunching sound your skull made and how warm the blood that splattered on my face was when I drove that pickaxe through your forehead. The power I felt after I came to terms with the fact that I just took someone’s life? Exhilarating.”

You smirked down at his terrified face, taking great pleasure in the fear he felt. He took several steps back from you, almost tripping when his heel caught the edge of the carpet. Grinning, you followed him until he was pressing himself up against the wall. You leaned down close to his ear and whispered, “I’ve never felt anything like it before. You were my first friend and my first kill, kudos to you.”

He ducked out of your presence with haste and distanced himself from you, his chest heaving with panicked breaths. He stuttered out a response, “do you even regret it?”

Regret was something you always pushed deep into your subconscious, “regret is for losers, winners own up to everything they do,” Schlatt’s voice echoed in your mind. You didn’t like thinking about your regrets, however the delicious fearful tone that shook Lucius’ voice was too alluring to ignore. He deserved every single ounce of the fear that racked his body, the argument that had raged on previously still filling you with anger. You’d humor him for now.

You certainly regretted it when you first killed him prior to losing your first life, if losing your first life is anything to go by. You hadn’t even done it on purpose; it was simply a freak accident in an abandoned mineshaft. You didn’t know that when you and Lucius discovered it that you’d leave without him. You could remember exactly what happened that day.

“Luci, wait up!” You pushed yourself to run faster into the cave, chasing the short teenager. He threw his head back and laughed, “catch me if you can!”

You grinned happily to yourself, “I’ll catch you faster than you can say a damn pun!”

You followed him deeper and deeper into the cave, passing different assortments of ores and jumping over crevices along the way. The carefree laughter that bounced off from the stone walls mingling with the slapping of both of your leather boots against the floor.

Despite the sharp twists and turns, you managed to stay hot on his trail. Eventually, he led you deep into a mineshaft. That was where you couldn’t keep up with him anymore. By the time you followed him around a corner, he was nowhere to be seen. You slowly came to a stop and looked around at the dark hallways. This had to be the largest mineshaft you’d ever seen, it was seemingly endless with a labyrinth of twisting halls. You looked behind you only to be met with even more dark halls. You couldn’t even remember where you came from, everything in here looked the same.

In the distance, you heard the hissing of cave spiders and the pitter pattering of their multitude of feet on stone. You swallowed nervously and took out your pickaxe, mentally scolding yourself for not thinking to bring your sword. Every single sound made you jump out of your skin and press yourself up against the wall, preparing yourself to swing at any movement.

Eventually, you gathered the courage to start to wander the maze of hallways. You gripped the handle of your iron pickaxe in a vice grip, ready to kill any mob that would potentially sneak up on you.

“Luci, please come out. I’m starting to get scared.”

You paused to strain your ears for any potential reply, only to sigh to yourself when you heard nothing but cave spider sounds and the faroff dripping of water. With a steadying breath, you ventured further into the mineshaft.

As you passed a hallway, you saw sudden movement from the corner of your eye. Squeezing your eyes shut with a small yelp, you spun around, raised your pickaxe, and swung it down with all your might.

In an instant, you heard a sharp gasp. When you felt your pickaxe make contact with something, a sickening combination of a crunching and squelching noise accompanied the feeling of something warm splatter across your face. You peeked your eyes open to see what mob had attacked you.

Instead of a zombie or… or whatever your mind was expecting to see, Lucius stood there looking at you with his eyes bulging and his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Your hands left the pickaxe and flew up to your mouth as you stepped back in horror at what you’ve done. As soon as you dropped the pickaxe, Lucius’s body dropped with it. He fell to the stone ground limply with a thud, landing on his side with his arms and legs awkwardly sprawled out.

You stood frozen as you watched his body start to convulse before falling still completely after what seemed like hours. Nothing but the roaring of blood in your ears and the obnoxiously loud thumping of your heart in your throat was heard. You finally snapped out of your trance when you saw his body still and started to dissolve in glowing golden dust.

“No, nonononono what the fuck did I just do?!” You dropped to your knees next to his body, feeling icy dread as you saw the telltale sign of death floating from his body. Gritting your teeth, you pressed your hands over his limp arm where the majority of the dust was coming from in a desperate attempt to potentially save him. He was already losing his warmth, you could feel him rapidly cooling under your hands. To your terror, the dust merely slipped through the cracks of your fingers.

Strangled sobs left your mouth as you removed your hands and dragged his upper body onto your lap. You lifted him up and hugged him as tight as you could, once again pressing your hands over the glowing gold, trying and failing to keep his body in one piece. You hated how he was slowly lightning as his body was dissolving.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated to him like a mantra. “I’m so fucking sorry Luci, come back.”

Just before he fully left you, you buried your face into the crook of his neck, praying to whatever gods were above that he’d just wake up and laugh loudly.

“You should’ve seen your face,” he’d tease you, “I really got you good this time, didn’t I?”

He’d then realize just how terrified you were, and he’d then hold you close to him while humming your song over and over. He’d tell you, “turn that frown upside down! You’re never fully dressed without a smile.” He’d put his pointer fingers on the corners of your lips and lift it into a smile, telling you to “fake it til you make it” and that “your smile is your best asset to use against someone.”

You’d ask him in a bout of confusion, “but then you’d be vulnerable! Isn’t it better to just… hide it all?”

He’d give you that dazzling smile of his and gently tap your nose with a finger, “hiding everything behind a smile is better than being a husk of a person. I know there’s a constant happiness deep down in you, I’ve seen it and it’s absolutely beautiful. C’mon,” he’d start to jab your sides lightly, “give me a smile!”

You’d shove his hands away from you with a small, genuine smile. He’d then haul you up to your feet and lead you out of the mines, pulling you behind him as he ranted constantly about what he had planned for you both for the day with his signature blinding smile.

But that didn’t happen.

Soon enough, you were holding nothing in your tight grasp and your face was hovering midair with something coming to rest in your lap. As you pried your eyes open and saw the bloodied pickaxe that laid in your lap and the blood that covered your clothes and slicked your hands, a guttural scream ripped itself from your throat. You’ve never screamed so loudly or so intensely; you were unsure if the copper you tasted in the back of your throat was from your fried vocal cords or from Lucius.

You stayed in that spot crying until you couldn’t anymore. The full reality of the situation hit you as you finally found your way out of the cave after days of wandering. Not knowing where else you could go, you stumbled to Schlatt and Quackity’s house.

The second Quackity opened the door and saw you sobbing and splattered with blood looking like you haven’t eaten or drank anything in days, he immediately took you into their household and sat you on the edge of the bathtub. He was the one that cleaned the blood off from your face with a warm washcloth and held you to his chest after you cried out when the feeling of the warm water was too similar to the blood that had splattered your face days before.

Schlatt had been the one to coax you to eat something after you had passed out in Quackity’s arms, whether due to lack of sleep or nourishment, you didn’t know. Alongside that, he was the first one you talked to about a couple of days into your stay with them.

Though you never told them what happened to your late best friend and what you did to him, they fully supported you and slowly nursed you back to the point where you could keep yourself alive without their constant aid. Whenever you’d have nightmares of the incident, Schlatt would be quick to make you realize that you were in their guest bedroom and not deep inside of a mineshaft while Quackity would stay by your side throughout the night softly humming small tunes.

Though everything came crashing down when Philza showed up at their door one day and drugged you home, your time with them solidified your suspicions that you could be loved.

You blunk, the scene of the blood spattered stone being replaced with your office and the very boy you accidentally killed cowering in the far corner of your room. He was staring at you like you were a starving lion and he was a cornered gazelle, watching your every move vigilantly. You couldn’t blame him, he was in the same room with his murderer after all.

“...I didn’t mean to kill you; I was terrified at the time, I couldn’t believe that I killed my best friend. Hell, I even killed myself because of the guilt.”

Though a brief flash of sadness reflected across his face, he hadn’t budged from his place with his eyes still trained on you, “t-the past doesn’t matter. Do you regret it now?”

You once again paused, the question of ‘do you regret it’ circulating your mind once more. If Lucius hadn’t died that day, you wouldn’t be the person you were today; you’d still be getting stepped on by everyone. You’d still be a coward, a spineless nobody. You wouldn’t be happy.

Though you hated yourself for even thinking about this, you questioned if you were truly happy here. You had everything you’ve ever wanted here: the power that you craved, a surefire means of getting your revenge, and living with the person that had constantly supported you. You couldn’t explain it, but it felt like something was missing. Yes, you’ve felt like that your entire life, but lately it felt like a massive, evergrowing void from deep within your core was swallowing everything within you. Maybe Lucius was right. Maybe-

“Why are you hesitating?!” Your eyes snapped to Lucius, surprised at his outburst. Now instead of the petrified look on his face just moments before, a spiteful one replaced it. “Why the fuck are you hesitating?”

“Lucius-”

A bitter chuckle interrupted you, “the fact that you’re hesitating tells me everything I need to know. I really thought the real you was somewhere deep within you, but you were right! This is the real you... You really are the monster everyone says you are.”

Before you could say anything, he fazed through the door leaving you standing in the middle of your desolate office. It felt like a spike was driven through your heart, you never would’ve expected Lucius to say anything like that. Not Lucius, never Lucius.

The pleasure that coursed through your veins previously during the argument had long since fleeted and been replaced with something you vowed to never feel again: regret. Disgust hit you full force as you remembered the delight and satisfaction that filled you at the sight of his fear. Your first and closest friend that stuck with you through thick and thin, his utter fear gave you pleasure. You really were a monster, weren’t you?

A knock sounded at your door, making you jump out of your skin.

“(Y/n), it’s time for our session.” Dream’s voice sounded through the thick doors. You sighed and looked at your suit, you weren’t even dressed properly.

“I’m not ready yet, I will be in about five minutes.” Your tone wavered slightly, making you hope that Dream wouldn’t comment on it.

“Is everything alright? I’m coming in.”

The door opened to reveal Dream wearing his usual lime green hoodie and his signature smiling mask. His curls bounced as he made his way over to you and examined your face.

“You look like shit,” he mused, “you know, you don’t need that ghost. He’s just been holding you back this entire time.”

“Well,” you crossed your arms and looked off to the side, “he isn’t in the picture anymore.”

He was silent for a moment before he walked over to your couch and sat down haphazardly, gesturing for you to do the same. When you did, he hummed, “you know, Lucius isn’t the only one holding you back from your full potential.”

“Who is then?”

“Schlatt.”

Schlatt’s name sent ice through your veins, your fingers growing numb and your throat drying up.

Just as you opened your mouth to object, Dream raised a finger to silence you. “He can’t even run his own country that he claims to be so proud of. In fact, he’s making you do all his dirty work while he gets drunk off his ass, not even recognizing you for your work. Everything you’ll ever do, even if you half ass it, is always going to surpass him at his best... He’s going to fire you soon, you know.”

You felt truly helpless in that moment, “what? He needs me, he-”

“As soon as the war ends, he’s just going to toss you aside just like everyone else in your life has. Just like Philza has, and now just like Quackity, the Badlanders, and Lucius has. But…”

He turned his head towards you and tilted it slightly. You hesitated before clearing your throat, “but what?”

“I can help you. I won’t throw you out like you’re a piece of garbage; I’m not a brain dead idiot like they are. I see your potential, and you’re going to absolutely thrive if you accept my help.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “...what’s the catch?”

“Ever the vigilant one; so wary of the world at such a young age, so smart,” he chuckled to himself. “What you have to do is simple, not even a moron like Schlatt could fuck it up. I’ll do all the work here, all you have to do is pledge your undying loyalty to me. Of course, you could stay here,” he released a long sigh, “and waste your potential while simultaneously inevitably getting abandoned, or you could break the cycle by working with me and reaching your full potential; I’ll never abandon you like they all did. Are you in?”

He stuck his hand out towards you and held it in the air, waiting for you to seal the deal. You stared at it as you contemplated his offer.

Though the thought of Schlatt throwing you out crushed your heart, you wouldn’t be lying if you said you expected him to do so sooner or later. With his ever growing dependence on alcohol, his judgement has grown increasingly more clouded. The furthest corner of your mind acknowledged that he was going to abandon you sooner or later as the abuse got worse, but your conscious mind refused to even think about him not being in your life.

Maybe it was time to turn a new leaf, Dream had said that you hadn’t reached your full potential yet and everything here was holding you back. You trusted him, he had proved to be a good mentor and a good person during your training sessions. He proved to genuinely care about you.

“Well, are you in or not? I’d hate to see such potential get wasted because someone is stuck in the past.”

You slapped your hand into his and shook it firmly, “I’m in.”

His mask lifted up slightly as he smiled underneath it. He shook your hand and matched your firmness, “excellent.”

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester @laura--444 @the-cult-classic-bitch @youngstarfishdinosaur @nottheotheruser @ohworm-writes @localwolfanon @realitycanbeajerk @v10dw4lk3r @esylwen @seraphsema @boiled-onionrings @smolgreenybeany @louistommosnesquickmilk @galaxios @ryxjxnnx @autumnpleaves @ravennightingaleandavatempus @0ton1n @self-righteous-dumbass @a-simp-for-block-people @fortunatelylazystranger @m1lkmandan @mirios-sunflower @ahmya-4 @shinipii @noyasblush @auroraskyfall @cryptocry @hee-hee-haw @blackstar-gazer

Gender neutral reader:

@totem-awooga @parkeepingparker @whatislifebutlemons

Sweet Betrayal:

@zefrenchturtle @smolgreenybeany @wouldyoulikesomepollen @savleftus @bonkaloid @prickypearpropaganda @marceline1212 @simp-of-newyork @wasteofspacze @mossanon @hee-hee-haw @keiarma @expir3d-m1lk @seraphsema @aiyncel @louistommosnesquickmilk @xx-smiley-xx @maelstromania @miloisagoodboy @boiciph3r @izuruamme @sticksdoesart

#jschlatt x reader #quackity x reader #dream x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #tw: swearing #tw: blood #tw: manipulation #tw: grief #tw: death #tw: injury #tw: violence #sweet betrayal

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odd-galaxy · 2 years ago

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The world of Odd Galaxy

THE WORLD- Odd galaxy is a si-fi galaxy filled with planets, celestial bodies and more. All orbiting the sun with some exceptions. Its an ever-changing universe with loads of different creatures and beings. Starships are needed to traverse this vast universe with secrets and mysteries to find at every turn. As well as threats and enemies as well.

The politics- Most of the galaxy is fulled by Wads, which is this universes currency. To get by you must have wads and a lot of them. There are numerous business across the galaxy to shipping fleets and asteroid mining facilities. The hub of all commerce is mission moon where vendors set up and barter and trade. As such there are many different Factions, such as Captain lillypads feet of pirates or the emperors loyal followers and army. As well as the guild to which our heroes are members of. There’s political unrest as citizens are rebelling against rule and are rising up against their unjust authority.

The planets

Mission moon- Mission moon is the home for the task sisters and where our heroes go when they aren’t working. It the a moon orbiting the commercial planet. Vendors ,mercenaries ,pirates and the like go here to trade ,sell and refuel.

Commercial hub- This large planet is where our heroes originate from. It consists of large skyscrapers peeking over the skies. And is where the elite and rich go to do their business.

Asteroid fleet- This is a fleet of asteroids filled with gems jewels and valuables. Miners unionize here and harvest this area for it resources. This is also a dangerous place where scavengers and pirates take advantage of anyone greedy enough to fall into their traps.

Mushroom planet- A planet covered completely with mushrooms ranging all sizes. There is a constant turf war happening with the red capped mushrooms and blue capped mushrooms. Much life on this planet takes place underground in its vast cave networks. There’s a giant ravine going through the middle of the planet.

Ruined planet- This sandy planet is very hot, being the 2nd closest planet to the sun. its littered with giant statues and weapons of unknown origin.

Submerged planet- This tropical planet is covered with a giant ocean. With small continents and archipelagos lining the surface. Majority of its ecosystem consist underwater in varied oceanic biomes. Its also home to a gargantuan leviathan that lurks below.

Floating island planets- this planet consists of giant continent sized floating islands floating above the planet reaching into the clouds. Sometimes these continents will break, causing chunks to fall and create craters into the planet below. Its got a jungle type ecosystem where sun reaches more at the top and gets trickled down to the malnourished area below.

Swoop comet- The swoop comet is a comet that circles around the galaxy twice a year. Its said to be worshipped and bring good luck!

Dark midnight planet- This rocky mountainous planet is constantly in a electrical storm as the white whole in its center is slowly eating the planet. This area is also extremely dark and hostile. Its home to the swirl beasts when are blind creatures who track down any thing that has the misfortune of crash landing on the planet.

The sun – The sun is the giver of life in this universe, Theres a station connected to the sun which harvests its energy for fuel.

#odd galaxy

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highqueenofelfhame · 4 years ago

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Hi I saw your post about fics being in character and I thought this could be a good opportunity to share some insight to help people who struggle with their characterization. I love your writing and ask could you share some traits you see as 'core' Rowan and Aelin traits? Maybe more valuably, would you be open to sharing your process for what you look for in the text when understanding characters, what stands out to you and what you make sure to include vs what you don't? I understand if this isn't something you want to share and I send this ask with good intentions and respect and hope this can start a productive discussion, no drama. Thanks :))

totally okay that you asked this!!

i think part of it is that i have read everything up to EoS so many times. like at least four times each and i've read heir of fire and queen of shadows probably six times each. i've only read kingdom of ash once bc it's still too painful to read again lmaoooo.

when i write i also always look for any chance i can to make parallels. i love making canon parallels to anything from small moments to bigger ones that are more recognizable. like the rowaelin qos reunion, rowan's "where is my wife" moment. rowan and aelin sparring in any capacity, like, anything like that. because i think that helps when you're pulling from the text and putting them into situations where you know how they interact with them, and it makes it easier to add in bits and pieces before and after. if that makes any kind of sense. (this also goes for legit any ship that i write. nessian, feysand, etc. pulling from the text and putting them in familiar situations will always help.)

as far as traits go, one of my major ones that i always try to keep in mind is rowaelin's loyalty to each other. rowan is like loyal to aelin almost to a fault sometimes. he will do anything and everything for her. when it comes that's why their thing is "to whatever end." they will follow each other to whatever end and beyond.

aelin has a very low opinion of herself. she thinks that she's expendable compared to those around her. she is very depressed sometimes and i think it gets overlooked a lot. (when i get my books back from my sister, i plan on doing a meta about this.) but she's been through a lot in her life and i try to keep that in mind in a lot of au's. some au's that are heavier (like iihasts and fafs) i try to pull on that. her mental health is very important to a lot of the way she handles things. post KOA, i know this girl has PTSD. it's evident in the way she handles a lot and takes a long time to warm back up to rowan in kingdom of ash. but she was tortured and manipulated for months. she's not okay.

people (in the books) also call her selfish A LOT but most of what she does she does for other people. she even spared dorian the weight of killing his father and told him she did it. like, come on.

as celaena, she does lean on the more selfish side, but as aelin she's doing everything she does for the greater good of the entire world. she didn't forge that lock for herself. she forged that lock for a better tomorrow for everyone she loved. which is incredibly selfless. she would also completely throw down to keep her loved ones safe.

the arrogant behavior is such an act. she's not really like that, it's a cover to hide everything she's truly feeling inside, to protect herself, to keep people from truly getting to know her. she can flip her personality to better suit the situation and the people she's around. she's mostly only her true self around aedion, lysandra, and rowan. i don't even think she really reveals herself to the rest of the cadre for probably a very long time. she picks fights when she's hurting the most and rowan is really the first person to see and recognize that. (very evident in hof when she sees what a good person gallan appears to be and goes and picks a bar fight immediately. or when arobynn humiliates her and she wears her nicest jewels to try to intentionally get robbed so she can start a fight.)

the reality is that she's an insanely hard worker, she keeps going and going and going to meet to meet her goals. she's a master strategist and very quick on her feet in any situation she finds herself in. she feels isolated (which goes back to her depression and ptsd) and she feels misunderstood. but she has been known to literally give the cloak off her back (with kaltain) and the money in her pocket (with yrene) and doesn't expect anything in return. literally nothing in return. she just did it out of the goodness of her own heart, yet she's constantly filled with self doubt that she's a bad person because people tell her that she is (chaol literally calls her a monster and she holds onto that and ends up asking rowan if she is one.)

she gives a lot of forgiveness and second chances, except to abusers. she pulls no punches with them. yet even with arboynn, she made sure there were no redeeming qualities left before letting lysandra kill him. instead of seeing it as a victory, though, she just felt hollow. she doesn't take joy in killing these people. she is not a bad person.

she feels a lot of guilt when she feels she could have stopped things. i think she carries those moments with her. which is why she helped those people the king wanted dead to escape in com. she has no problem ending people that deserve the punishment, but when they don't, she does what she can to help them.

rowan is so respectful. he finally gets his mate and his wife and his love back and he's consistently giving her the space she requires when it's so hard for him to not just touch her. he puts his own needs aside consistently based on what aelin needs.

he's a complete and total hardass to other people but is so soft for her. but he's also territorial about her. he's protective of her. but never at the cost of what she needs and wants. however, he will put his foot down and make people swallow their own tongues if they're disrespectful toward her. but he's also respectful toward everyone, not just aelin. he can prove his points without physical violence even if he would want to.

in that same vein, if you're doing enemies to lovers, he doesn't understand her at first. he think's she's spoiled and doesn't have a single clue about the trauma she's been through and he's very hard on her. he treats her like another warrior in their training. he doesn't go easy on her just because she's a woman (which also still comes from a place of respect) but the second he finds out about her trauma the way he treats her shifts. he becomes protective because he doesn't put up with that kind of shit. he isn't torturing her in their training, in fact aelin in hof says that he's brilliant even if he beats the shit out of her every damn day. a lot of people try to twist that into a thing of abuse, but again, he's training her like a warrior. he doesn't coddle her and she doesn't want to be coddled. again, this comes from a place of respect.

he also learns from his mistakes and tries to right them, and takes action to better himself from it as soon as he can. this is important. he has the humility to apologize, whether it be by actions or words. he doesn't ask for credit in the things he does and ends up kind of making jokes about it. i think he has a lot of humility at the end of the day. he is quick to forgive others when it's deserved but has a lot of trouble forgiving himself. this is also important.

but rowan also has a playful side with aelin. they have witty banter that they exchange even when they're not totally on board with the other. he's funny in subtle ways, and toward the end of the series we see that he's so wholly comfortable with her that he even gets a little silly.

after his own trauma, he also falls into a very deep depression. for centuries. it took aelin coming along for him to come back out of his shell. everyone gave up on him, but aelin never did. just like he never gave up on her, and they were able to walk out of that darkness together. i also think he feels a lot of guilt when innocent lives get put in danger and risk or die at his hands when he felt he could have stop it, much like aelin.

rowan is also very calm in most situations. he's able to work out solutions like the warrior that he is even when other people are losing their minds, which makes him a very good soldier and eventually king.

i could keep going but this is getting wildly long lol. i hope this helps even a little. thank you to @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @punkassbookjockey26 for helping me with my thoughts as i'm still exhausted from surgery and healing.

#characterization #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #tog #throne of glass

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joyfulholland · 4 years ago

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The Peace Treaty - Mob!Tom

....when your father orders you to make peace with Tom Holland, heir to the other crime family, you find working together is not as horrendous as you once thought.....

a/n: enemies to lovers with mob!Tom...this was a labour of love but I really like how this turned out and I hope you do too! i was largely inspired by all of my insanely talented friend Hannah’s (@duskholland) mob!Tom writing, which is an absolute must read for anyone and everyone! please let me know what you think! this was nearly a smut but I changed my mind so if anyone would be interested in a part 2 please send me a message!

warnings: swearing, lots of mentions of violence, some mentions of blood/injuries

word count: 6.1k

All weddings have a little drama somewhere, but you thought having to throw a knife to stop the unwanted guest escaping was a tad excessive.

Luckily, the majority of the wedding party and guests were out in the gardens, so it was only a select few who had seen you interrupt the man’s swift exit. You smirked in triumph as he turned back to face you, his posture having slumped realising that not only was he cornered, but severely outnumbered. Smoothing out the cobalt silk that was your bridesmaid dress, you took one step forward, before pausing at the cough from the man beside you.

Tom wordlessly flipped the pistol he was holding so that you could easily take it from him. His actions caused you to raise an eyebrow, and he smirked as he revealed the second handgun tucked into his waistband.

“Knew you wouldn’t be able to carry in that dress.” He grinned, eyes scanning your figure as you took the weapon from him. “Figured I better bring a spare so you wouldn’t have to miss out on the action.”

“Thank you.” You didn’t hide the surprise in your tone, still not used to his friendly attitude. Gesturing at the man still in the doorway, whose eyes were darting between you both, and the four other men behind you, you returned to the task at hand. “Shall we?”

“After you darling.”

~one week earlier~

“You can’t be serious Dad.”

Your father rolled his eyes from where he was seated across from you in front of the fire, the sound of laughter and music drifting under the door to his study from the party going on outside. Taking another sip of his whisky, he sighed at the incredulous look still plastered on your face.

“It’s time you made peace with him. I’m getting old, it’ll be your turn to run things soon, and we’d like to retire knowing the two of you aren’t at each other’s throats and throwing everything we built away. Besides, your sister’s wedding is almost here, and I want it to run smoothly.”

Sinking back into your chair, you let out a frustrated sigh before raising your own drink to your lips. Growing up as the eldest daughter of one of the two biggest crime families in London, you’d been raised preparing for the day it would be your turn to take on the “family business”, and you had relished in the prospect. The only issue you had taken to the entire affair, one which it seemed your father was now determined to resolve, was the heir to the other notorious family with whom you shared your work: Tom Holland.

One year older than you, the rivalry between you had started young. Both determined to prove you would one day be capable heads of your respective families, you’d attempted to one up each other at every opportunity available. Where he had excelled in marksmanship, your skill with a knife was incomparable to anyone else. When he began working for his father full time, you had begged your own to let you do the same, pleading that the fact he was older irrelevant. His specialty was smuggling, so you made disposal yours. The two of you even had a private scoreboard of times your activities had namelessly been displayed on the news, bragging that you were more successful at getting away with it than the other.

“Just shag him already.” Your younger sister, Isabelle, had groaned not a month before, as you’d finished regaling her with your recent triumph over him. “You’ve both been madly in love since you were about two years old.”

You’d almost spat your wine at her, the statement causing you off guard. Whilst it was no secret that Tom had suddenly become incredibly attractive over the course of a summer away when he was seventeen, you had made that fact irrelevant as your feelings towards him held nothing but contempt.

“I’m not in love with him.” Your words had come out as defiant, but it had only caused her to snort into her own drink. “Belle, he’s an arrogant, selfish arsehole who has done nothing but show as much hate towards me as I have to him since we were old enough to throw building blocks at each other.”

“I think you meant passion, not hate, but whatever.” She rolled her eyes, knowing when to drop a subject. “But it would be better for us all if you got along at least, and so help me God if the sexual tension between the two of you ruins my wedding I’ll murder you, heir to the firm or not.”

Which led you back to sitting across from your father, who had just informed you that he’d agreed with Tom’s father Dominic that the two of them were to hold ‘peace treaty’ talks between you.

“Did Belle put you up to this?” You asked suspiciously, eyes flashing to the door where you knew she would be holding court as the host of the wedding shower.

“She and your mother may have suggested it.”

“So she snitched to the both of you.”

“Actually, I think it was your mother’s idea first, she’s been speaking about it for a while.”

The smile on his face let you know you were defeated. It seemed they had all colluded together to force you into the ceasefire of your battle with Tom, and there was no way to escape it. Letting out another disgruntled sigh, you finished the remainder of your drink before rising from the chair.

“I assume he’s here.” The tone of your voice made your father let out a bark of laughter, and you knew you sounded like a child who had just been reprimanded. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Not waiting for an answer, you crossed the room and re-joined the party that your father had pulled you from, rearranging your face into a fake smile as you passed guests in various states of enjoyment on your way to the main reception area in your family estate. You’d barely stepped over the threshold of the doorway when his voice rang clearly above the music.

“Well, if it isn’t my new best friend.”

Turning to face him, you saw Tom push up from where he was leaning against the wall. Your eyes quickly scanned his body, noting the near-empty glass held loosely between two ring-clad fingers. His black suit jacket fitted him perfectly over a crisp white shirt, which had the top three buttons undone to reveal a thin gold chain around his neck. He was flanked on either side by his two most loyal friends, Harrison and Tuwaine, both of whom offered you a smile. Whilst the rivalry between yourself and Tom was strong, neither of you had ever taken any issue to those in both of your inner circles.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s had the play nice speech.” Skipping any greetings, you return the other men’s smiles before focusing on Tom. He gives a short chuckle at your words before raising his glass to his lips and finishing the remainder of his drink. “For the record, I have no intentions of becoming friends.”

“I’m wounded darling.” Tom’s still wearing an obnoxious smirk as a server comes to offer you a glass of champagne, taking away his empty glass in the process. “I thought we could make a a good team, make everyone even happier.”

“In your dreams, Holland.” You know he’s just baiting you, but with the prospect of at least a couple more hours of party ahead of you, your patience for him was limited. “We can be civil at events and make an effort in any deals. But that’s it. We are not, and never will be a team.”

Not giving him time to answer, you swiftly turned on your heels and entered further into the crowd of people celebrating your sister’s upcoming nuptials, determined not to let him ruin this night for you anymore, and not to think about him until the next time you saw him.

Which, it turned out, would be sooner than you had hoped.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The following morning, you had retreated back to your own apartment.

Having cited ‘business’ as your reason, you knew that your family had seen into your lie, and that you wanted to be able to sulk in peace. You’d promised, under threats of bodily harm, to return two days before the wedding, giving you a good four days to get your bad mood out of the way.

The alone time only lasted fifteen hours.

It was drawing close to two a.m. when the banging on your door disturbed you. You hadn’t fallen asleep yet, having been going over some files at your desk, but the loud beating had startled you, and was unexpected enough for you to grab your gun from your bottom draw before approaching the source. Checking the spy hole, a string of curses left your mouth as you unchained and unlocked the door.

Tom fell through the threshold, his brown curls dishevelled, and his knuckles bruised. A thin trail of blood trickled down the side of his face from a slash above his left eyebrow, and a dark patch pooling on his shoulder alluded to there being another injury beneath his shirt. Quickly shutting the door behind him and relocking it, you spun to glare at the man who was now propping himself up against the wall of your hall.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked him, taking another survey of his injuries, and noting the yellowing skin under his eye that had a blue tinge. He had never been to your apartment before, but it didn’t shock you that he knew the address, especially as you knew his. Instead, you chose to ask the next most prominent question. “Have you been stabbed or shot?”

“I was close by, needed to tell you something.” He ignores your question, so you move past him to get to your bathroom, noting the wince he tried to hide as he moved to follow. Gingerly sitting on the edge of your bathtub, he watches as you grab a first aid kit from the cabinet under your sink. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I’m not going to stand here and watch you bleed.” You roll your eyes at him as you turn to face him, gesturing towards his shirt as a hint for him to remove it. He does so slowly, grimacing as he tries not to move his shoulder. You can’t help but take a sharp gasp when you see the gash running over the top of his skin, clear that a bullet had skimmed past him and not quite missed. Tom sends you a weak smile as you turn back to grab something to clean the wound. “What were you so desperate to tell me anyway? You could have just called.”

“Like you’d have answered.” Tom jokes as you step forward to begin patching him up, a hiss falling through his lips as you make contact with his injury. “You’ve made it clear that you only want to speak to me on a need-to-know basis, and this was urgent. That’s going to need stitches isn’t it? Just try and stem the bleeding until I get home, Haz is pretty decent at sewing me up.”

Your eyes flashed to meet his for a brief second before returning to his shoulder, nodding at his question. You couldn’t deny that you probably would have rejected his call and had nothing else to say to him in response. Grabbing some gauze, you start to tightly pad over the wound, waiting for him to continue.

“I ran into Jason.” His words promptly stop your actions, and your eyes connect again. Jason Boule was the son of another crime family, one whom which neither your father or Tom’s had gotten ever along with, and one who had been attempting to sabotage both of your businesses for years. “I think they’re trying to get someone into the wedding.”

“What did he say?” You ask, finishing with his shoulder before grabbing something to start cleaning up his face. “And what did you say to make him shoot at you?”

“Asked me to pass on congratulations to the happy couple, claimed he was disappointed he hadn’t received an invite, that he was sure it was going to be a day to remember.” Tom spoke the last few words with gritted teeth as you wiped over the cut along his face. “Then he…I may have said something about how vermin weren’t usually invited to weddings, which is about when he shot at me.”

“You missed something out in the middle.” You smirked as it was Tom’s turn to roll his eyes, having not missed the way he’d changed his mind mid-sentence, passing him an instant-cool pack from your kit. “Hold that on your eye.”

“Thanks.” He muttered, doing as you told him. You waited expectantly, and he groaned before carrying on. “He may have said some shit about you in the middle, which I may have punched him for, but that wasn’t important to the alluding to sending someone to the wedding point.”

“You punched him for bad-mouthing me?”

“Well, yeah. Just because I give you shit for not being as good as me, doesn’t give him any right to. Especially not what he said, which I won’t repeat for the fact it was disgusting.”

Eyes once again locked on his, you found yourself lost for words. Tom had tried to joke it off, but the idea of him defending you, in any situation, felt like a foreign concept. Dropping your gaze down, you sucked in a breath at the realisation of the intimate situation the two of you were in: you, standing between his legs as he sat, shirtless, with only centimetres separating the two of you. As you raised your eyes slowly back to his, you found Tom’s gaze still fixed firmly on your face. A moment passed, and for a brief second you found yourself leaning closer, until a loud buzzing signalled Tom’s phone ringing in his pocket. Snapping yourself out of it, you took a step back, eyes returning to his and forcing your face to remain neutral as he glanced at his screen and sighed.

“You should get home, get your shoulder looked at properly.” Your words shattered the tension that had surrounded you both momentarily, and Tom coughed before nodding and reaching for his discarded shirt. “Thank you, Tom, for coming to tell me.”

“All part of the peace treaty.” His smile looked forced as he pulled his shirt back on and stood, passing you back the ice pack and making his way to leave your apartment. “You wanna tell your Dad-“

“No.” You cut him off quickly, running a hand through your hair as you think through the situation. “I… this wedding is important, and I don’t want him worrying. We can sort it right?”

“OK.” He nods, his usual smirk returning. “You’ll actually have to answer my calls though.”

“It’s a sacrifice I’m sure I can manage.” You roll your eyes at him, and Tom chuckles with a nod before going to unlock your door. “I’ll speak to some of my guys in the morning.”

“And you said we couldn’t be a team.”

“Go home Holland.” You sigh, gently pushing him out of your apartment. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Counting down the hours darling.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next few days were filled with flurries of phone calls between yourself and Tom, some more pleasant than others. Almost all of the calls were logistical; how many people the two of you planned on telling, whether or not to station someone at the exits. In an attempt to remain focused, you tried to keep your tone formal and business like, not deviating from the matter at hand.

The problem was Tom had other plans.

You’d be halfway through discussing exit routes when he’d suddenly ask your opinion on his suit for the wedding, or you’d be texting him floor plans and he would send back a picture of options for his shoes. And then of course, once or twice, the two of you would disagree about something and end up fighting, with one of you hanging up on the other before calling back almost immediately because it really wasn’t an issue you had time to ignore. Trying to balance getting along after so many years of competition, in addition to doing everything you could to ignore the moment that had transpired between you the night in your bathroom, as well as calls from your sister about last minute wedding worries was giving you a permanent migraine.

The day before the wedding, he called you just as you were finishing dinner with your family.

“Now’s really not the time.” You murmured, skipping any formal greeting as you stepped into the empty hallway. “I’ve just-“

“Come outside.” He cut you off, tone matching yours. “Got something you’ll wanna see.”

Not giving you a chance to respond, the line cut off, leaving you no choice but to follow his orders. Stepping into the snug, where everyone had retired to after finishing, you flashed an apologetic smile.

“I’ve just got to step out for a bit.” You told them, earning an eye roll from your mother and a curious look from your father. You shook your head slightly, reassuring him not to worry. “Won’t be too long.”

“If you’re not back when I go to bed I will kill you.” Isabelle sighed, head tilting back over the sofa from where she was seated in front of you. “Promise me you’ll stop and say good night.”

“Promise.” You mutter, dipping forward to kiss her forehead before retreating from the room. Hurrying down the hallway, you slipped out of the large front doors to see the outline of Tom leaning against his car, parked close to the doors of your garage. Crossing the gravel, the cool evening breeze made you shiver as you walked the dark to meet him, the hem of your dress grazing against your thighs. Getting close enough to make out his features, you called out to him. “Roddy let you in the gate?”

“Told him I had a meeting with you, he let me in no questions asked.” He hummed; body still angled from where he was leaning on the hood of his jaguar. “Figured you must have told him something.”

“Warned him we could have an unexpected visitor tomorrow so to not question you if you turned up.” You affirmed, crossing your arms around you in an attempt to keep warm. “What is it you wanted to show me?”

Tom’s eyes dropped to your arms and smirked, before pushing off his car and opening the door, tilting his head at it as a signal to get in. You did so wordlessly, sighing in content as he shut the door behind you and the heat of his car engulfed you. The car smelled more like Tom’s aftershave than any air freshener, which only strengthened when Tom had slipped into the driver’s seat moments later. As he reached across you to open the glove box, you held your breath as his arm, exposed from where he’d rolled up his sleeves, grazed your body, mind still determined to rid yourself of any minor attraction to him. Tom pulled out a large envelope, fingers brushing yours as he gave it to you before settling back into his own seat. Sliding out the contents, you found printed emails containing directions to your father’s study, as well as photographs of your family estate, and the name of a company which you were in the middle of a business deal with.

“May or may not have hacked into Boule’s emails.” Tom explained before you could ask, your eyes lifting from the papers in front of you to meet his. “I know we didn’t agree on that, but Paddy is becoming one hell of a whiz kid at it, so asked him to see if he could find anything.”

Smiling at the mention of Tom’s youngest brother, you returned your attention to the documents, speed reading through them as Tom waited for you to reply. Noticing the names on the email addresses, your eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You aren’t kidding about Paddy.” The surprise in your tone made Tom chuckle, and you lifted your gaze back to him. “These were coded, weren’t they?”

“Told you, kids got skills. Think we’re pretty lucky he’s already one of the family, or we’d all be fighting over him.”

“Well at least now we know what Jason’s coming after.”

“And that he’s only sending one guy. We’ll barely have anything to do.”

You chuckled softly at his words, leaning back against the chair and letting your gaze wander over the darkened landscape of your estate. You could only just make out the large marquee that had been erected for the wedding, most of it obscured by the dark as well as part of the house.

“Think we could have always worked together like this?” Tom’s words startle you, and you tilt your head to the side to find him mirroring your position. “You know, if you could have just admitted I was better when we were kids, then it would have been fine.”

You let out a short laugh, watching his lips pull into a grin at the sound. Seeing how smug he was, an idea flashed into your head. Before Tom could realise what was happening, you pushed yourself off your chair and swung your legs to straddle over his, pulling the small knife you had tucked into your belt free to press loosely against his neck.

“What was that about being better than me?” You asked, grinning as his expression changed from one of shock to frustration, his eyes rolling as he raised one hand to push gently at your hip. “You’re getting slow, Holland.”

“Doesn’t count.” He protested, eyes following your hand as you flipped the small blade back into the safety of its holder. “You’ve pulled bigger knives on me than that. Anyway, that wasn’t fair, I’m unarmed.”

“So I wouldn’t find your gun in the armrest box beside us?” You tease, settling back on Tom’s thighs and opening up the compartment to prove your point. “Oh, look, I was right.”

“You’re acting like you know more about me than I do you, but I’m well aware that you have another knife strapped on you, so this works both ways.”

“How do you know I have two?”

“Because you’ve been carrying two knives since you were seventeen after that job we had to do together that almost went wrong, and you only had one.”

“You remember that?”

“Course I do, you stole my car keys and refused to let me drive myself home.”

“Because you’d been shot.”

“I was barely bleeding.”

“That’s because the bullet was still stuck in your ribcage. Just because I hated you didn’t mean I wanted you to die. Besides, I was right. You passed out barely five minutes later.”

“You hated me?”

“Back then? Immensely.”

“And now?”

You hadn’t realised that you’d been getting closer to him, but as Tom asked his question, you felt his breath fan across your face. He’d sat up straighter, his hands sliding up to sit on your waist, whilst yours sat at the base of his chest, your eyes level and lips centimetres apart. Up close, you could see the mark left behind above his eyebrow from the fight a few nights prior, and the yellow tint below his eye where his bruising hadn’t fully healed. Tom’s eyes didn’t leave yours as he waited for you to answer, his thumbs dragging slow circles against your sides.

“Maybe a little less.”

You were sure your words had been inaudible, but Tom somehow seemed to hear them, and he smiled before lifting one of his hands to cup your neck and bring your head forward to close the gap between you. His lips brushed over yours tentatively as your eyes fluttered closed, both of you still hesitant in this unchartered territory. As his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, you emitted a soft sigh, hands tightening around the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer.

Doing so changed the mood from hesitation to excitement, and Tom tightened the grip on your neck as the kiss deepened. His other hand, which had still been sitting on your waist, slowly moved down and dipped below your dress until it was holding the back of your thigh. Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, Tom used his hold on your head to angle it, his lips trailing steadily along your jaw.

“If you leave any marks I’ll stab you.” Your threat was undermined by the moan that immediately followed it, as Tom found the spot by your ear, and you felt him grin against your skin before he pressed a final kiss to you and pulled back to meet your gaze. “I mean it, I’m not walking down the aisle behind my sister covered in hickies. It’ll be your funeral instead.”

“I love it when you threaten to kill me.” He smirks, darting forward to capture your lips once more. Pushing him lightly, he groaned as he fell back against his chair, the hand on your neck falling to his side. “Alright, alright. You don’t need to worry darling, because as much as I want to, the first time I fuck you isn’t going to be in my car.”

“The first time?” You push back from him, raising an eyebrow as he smirked. Tom simply hummed at your question, the hand on your neck dropping to grab both of yours. You waited for him to respond, only growing annoyed as he did nothing but smirk at you. Losing your patience with him, you wrench your hands free to lean across and open the car door. “You’re so infuriating, that’s why we never worked as a team. Your ego.”

“Definitely nothing to do with your temper either.” You weren’t looking at his face as you climbed out of the car, but you could practically hear him roll his eyes. Smoothing out your dress as the cool, evening breeze engulfed you once more, you turned to head back to the house, before he called out behind you. “You’re welcome, by the way. For the information.”

“Thanks!” You shout back, not turning your head as you continue back to the house. Tom’s laugh carries across the driveway, followed by the sound of his car door closing. Reaching the front door, you look back as you step back inside, watching as his engine purred to life before gliding back towards the gates. Quietly closing the door, you begin making your way to your room, noticing that most of your family had already made their way to bed. Stopping at the door before yours, you knock softly before hearing a muffled come in, cracking open the door to smile at your sister. “Just wanted to know if I’m being killed or not?”

“I’ll let you off.” Isabelle rolled her eyes from where she was laying in her bed but grinned back as you leant against the door frame. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, all good.”

“You’d tell me if there was something, right?”

“Absolutely.” You lied, pushing off the wall to cross the room and press a kiss to her cheek. “Now get some beauty sleep, or Adam won’t want to marry you.”

“Like you’d let him back out.” Belle joked, referring to how her husband-to-be worked for the family business. “Love you.”

“Love you.” You hummed back, before leaving the room and entering your own. Flipping on the light, you sighed before preparing for bed, thinking of what was to come in the next twenty-four hours.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“After you darling.”

Your eyes returned to the intruder cornered by the door, thinking over how you’d ended up here. The wedding itself had gone without a hitch; your sister and her now husband had exchanged rings and vows in front of everyone without any noticeable hiccups. You’d spotted Tom as you’d led the bridesmaids down the aisle and had determinedly kept your gaze away from him throughout the ceremony, only exchanging a curt nod as you’d left to take part in the official photo’s, trusting him to keep an eye. It was the only contact you’d had with him until you spotted what you’d been waiting all day to see, Freddie, one of your men, signalling you from across the reception party. Politely excusing yourself from the conversation you were in, you had wordlessly tapped Tom’s arm on your way back to your family house, hearing him do the same before following with Harrison and Tuwaine behind him. With the advanced knowledge you had gained from Paddy’s hacking abilities, the two of you, each flanked by two of your men, had found and cornered the intruder before he’d made it farther than the entry hall.

“I know Boule sent you, and why he sent you, and given the occasion, I don’t have time or patience to waste on your excuses.” You sighed, stopping in front as Freddie and Ralph moved to stand either side of him. Toying with the gun you now held, you watched as his eyes darted between the weapon and your face. “So you’re going to swiftly leave, and run and tell him nice try, but maybe next time. Because if you try anything else, the next knife I throw won’t miss.”

He hadn’t got a chance to respond before Freddie and Ralph had taken him by both arms, nodding at you before escorting him out of the building. You watched them go, as Tom followed suit. For a second, you thought he was leaving too, before he stopped to retrieve the knife you had thrown earlier, still lodged in the door. Wordlessly returning to you, he held the blade out for you to take, and you offered him a tight smile as you swapped it for the gun he had offered you earlier.

“Not that you need it,” Tom joked as you returned the knife to the strap on your inner thigh. Your eyes found his in surprise, watching as he replaced both of the guns he now held in his waistband. “What with you having two and all.”

“Thanks.” You muttered, before spinning on your heel to face his two friends. “We should get back.”

“She can’t possibly have two knives on her?” Harrison hissed to Tom, the three men a few paces behind you as you made your way back to the garden.

“Oh, trust me, she can.”

“Where?”

Smiling to yourself as the fresh air engulfed you once more, you re-entered the marquee to see no change to the scene from when you had left it: some people dancing, some milling around speaking and laughing, others still finishing their food at various tables. Eyes scanning the guests around you, they landed on the bride herself striding across the room determinedly in your direction.

“You lied to me.” She accused, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you to the dancefloor. Isabelle released her grip on you as the music changed to a slower song, wrapping instead wrapping them around you to sway slowly to the music. “You said that everything was fine, and then you sneak off to stop one of Boule’s men breaking into Dad’s study.”

“How the hell did you find out?” The smile was still on your face as the two of you spun in a small circle, mainly because despite her tone, she was still beaming herself. “I didn’t even tell Dad.”

“Roddy told me.” Her tone was smug as her eyes wandered from your face to look around the tent. “After I watched you leave that is. You didn’t really think I wouldn’t notice my own sister leave my wedding?”

“Well, I hoped the wedding thing might cause some distraction.”

“Fat chance.” She snorted, eyes returning to yours. “I’ve got a particular skill set that comes in handy. Don’t think I didn’t see Tom follow.”

“He was the one who found out about it originally.” Your tone changed as you thought over what had transpired between you. “You know he brought an extra gun because he knew I wouldn’t be able to have on today?”

“The fact that it surprises you is hilarious.” She laughs, stepping back from you and unwrapping her arms, only to link her fingers through yours instead. “You know that he’s-“

“Don’t say it.”

“Fine. I’ll let him tell you.”

“What-“

“Mind if I cut in?” You whipped your head to find Tom behind you, watching as he sent a winning smile to your sister. “Congratulations by the way.”

“Thanks Tom, she’s all yours.” Belle grinned back, pulling you in to kiss your cheek, before muttering in your ear, “You’ll thank me eventually.”

Releasing you completely, you watched as she passed Tom with another smile, walking straight into her new husband’s outstretched arms. Your gaze returned to the man in front of you, watching cautiously as he held out his hand.

“Oh, come on.” He laughed, seeing your hesitation. “Think about how happy our father’s will be to see their peace treaty working.”

Rolling your eyes, you placed your hand in his and allow him to pull you closer, your other hand rising up to rest on his shoulder.

“You stormed away last night before I could explain myself.” His voice was low in your ear as he began to move the two of you in time with the music. “Never have been a fan of letting me have the last word.”

“If this is an apology it sucks so far.” You reply, your tone light as you try not to focus on the warmth of his hand on your waist.

“I’m not going to apologise, it wasn’t the right moment.”

“You said that like you’ve been planning it.”

“Only every day since you stole my car keys.”

“Now I know you’re taking the piss.”

Pulling back to meet his gaze, you found nothing but sincerity as he took a breath to explain.

“You got the money we went there for whilst simultaneously holding three men twice your size at gunpoint, and then got us both out of there despite the fact I’d been shot. Then you took my keys and yelled at me whilst taking me home until I passed out.” The look on his face now was nothing like you had ever seen, his eyes searching yours as he continued. “Darling, as much as I really do enjoy the way you look when you’re mad at me, the main reason I’ve been antagonising you more and more the past few years was so I actually have a chance to spend time with you. Now if I’m making a complete twat of myself, say the word and we can continue the way we are and forget I ever said a word of this.”

“Tom-“

“You know you only ever call me that when I’ve been shot.” He mutters, a hint of his usual smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Should I be worried?”

“You know I was already reluctant to admit that I might feel the same way, and now I’m going to take it back...”

Your words died on your lips as he silenced you with his own, dropping your hand to cradle your face as he kissed you softly. You could feel him grinning against you before he pulled back, thumb dragging softly against the skin of your cheek.

“This doesn’t mean I’m going easy on you now, you know.” You mutter, unable to stop your own smile taking over. “I mean, if you think that just because we’re together I’d start letting you-”

“Letting me?” Tom’s bark of laughter inspired your smile to grow even more, the incredulous look in his eyes quickly morphing into his trademark smirk. “I’m sorry, who was it who discovered Boule’s plans for today?”

“Only because you got into a fight over me. Admit it Holland, I’m your weakness. It’s not my fault you’re so in awe of my talents.”

“If I kiss you again, will you stop being so competitive?”

“Depends, maybe you should it try and find out.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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