#Kinley thinks (sometimes) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charliehoennam · 8 months

Text

home again.

A/N: request made here by @juniebugg and a nonny made here so i decided to mash these two together

Pairing: John Kinley x F!reader

Warnings: Language and smut. No minors, please!

Word count: 2,675

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

The dusty gravel of your driveway crunched under the tires of Declan’s truck. You didn’t need to look out the window to know who it was, but you wanted to see him. Make sure he’s alright.

You’d refused to pick John up at the military base. You didn’t want to be anywhere near it. It’d been months since he’d been away and you hated every single second he was gone.

You missed him more than anything in the world. Deep inside, you were thrilled he was finally home and, most importantly, safe. Part of you wanted to race out the door and throw yourself in his arms. The other part, however, wanted to slap him across the face.

Months of his absence – provided only via letters and shitty connections through phone calls or video chats that could never replace his presence – drove you insane.

The only thing that was worse was zero contact. Not knowing if he was dead or alive; that every car that drove by the house would deliver that dreaded folded flag. Sometimes, you questioned why he would want to be in the army in the first place, fighting a war that he has no fault in. How could he just leave you?

You’d thought it would get easier to live with after you got married. Turned out, it wasn’t.

John called out for you and spotted you by the window where he’d caught you staring out of just before you moved away to hide. He read your resistance right off the bat.

“Hey, honey” he smiled as he set his army green bag on the floor in the hallway. “Don’t I get a kiss huh?”He tried to joke to loosen you up.

There was definitely tension in the air that he’d detected even before walking in, but he wanted to avoid conflict on his first day home. He’d missed you just as much as you’d missed him; there was no doubt the distance was hard on both sides. Yet you felt he was to blame since it was his choice to reenlist. You were there. You’d always be there.

You pulled away as he tried to pull you into his arms and marched back into the kitchen where you’d been making his favorite: Fettucine alfredo with crispy bits of Italian sausage.

“Something smells real good.” His attempts were getting nowhere. “Come on, baby. Is this how it’s gonna be every time I come home?”

“You could just stay home.” You shrugged as you continued stirring the pot of white sauce before dipping a spoon to taste-test the flavor.

“We’re really gonna do this? Again?” He scoffed running a hand over his tired face.

“Do you really expect me to be all bright smiles when you were literally gone for 9 months in the middle of God knows where? After 11 days of sheer silence, I just found 6 days ago that you weren’t dead, John.”

“I thought that would be something to be happy about.” His brows furrowed.

“I am happy you’re alive, John. But I did also spend 11 days thinking you might have been dead!”

“That wasn’t my fault! We got ambushed by an IED in the middle of nowhere. We lost the RV and had to trek through the goddamn desert. You think I wanted that happen?!”

“Then you shouldn’t have relisted! I just don’t get it! Why would you want to go back to that?!”

“You don’t have to get anything! You’re acting like this is all new to you! You knew I was in the Army before, that it wouldn’t change when we got married!”

“Maybe I’d hope it would! So crucify me for thinking that maybe my husband would want to actually be home with me after getting married!”

Your argument only escalated after that. John was angry and you were furious. A blur of loud voices, searing tears and fists pounding on walls and countertops. At some point, he had decided to blow off some steam and slammed the front door shut as he left to have a drink at the bar. He didn’t want to get drunk or talk to anybody. He just wanted to get out of there before you’d both said things that couldn’t be taken back.

Sat on a tall stool with a beer bottle cradled in his hands, he stared into nothingness wanting to forget everything. However, his mind found itself returning to you. To your scent that lingered on his clothes after his hug. To your warmth against his chest and arms. Fuck, he missed you badly and he hated that he couldn’t fucking forget it.

After pushing himself off the stool, he drove home in silence and cautiously stepped over the threshold. His eyes scanned the house as he made his way in, searching for any indication that could explain your current state. But he found only silence. A daunting calmness in the shadows of the home as the streets casted their lights in attempt to chase the gloom. But when his eyes landed on a pillow stacked upon of a folded-up blanket, he shook his head and ignored your punishment.

That was his limit. The final drop to overflow the flood he’d spent hours trying to contain.

You tossed and turned in bed, wondering if you had gone too far. You reflected on his words. He wasn’t wrong. You knew the Army was important to him going into the relationship. You knew that when you said yes when he asked you to marry him. You knew that when you said “I do” at the altar.

He felt his blood boil again as he marched up the stairs with his pillow under his arm. The door flew up open and he strode into the room, avoiding your bewildered gaze as you propped yourself up on your elbow.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You questioned angrily. “You’re sleeping on the couch.”

“The hell I am. I spent nine months away. I’m sleeping in my own bed tonight.”

You could hear the tinge of impatience in his voice. He sat at the edge of his side on the bed to untie his boots and set them aside with a thud muffled by the carpet.

“You’re not sleeping here, John.”

“You can sleep on the couch if you want, but I’m sleeping right here.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?”

“Oh, I am huh? How about you? You’re the one that’s acting like a fucking child.”

You sat up in disbelief, ready for round two of your argument.

“Just don’t. I’m tired and I wanna sleep.” He stated as he laid back against his pillow, back turned to you.

“You think it’s fucking easy? You think it’s easy having you miles away, with no notice if you’re even alive? I thought you were dead, John!”

He was ready to snap back with his defense, but the tears building in your eyes warned him not to. Instead, his jaw clenched as he held his gaze on you.

“I spent night crying my fucking eyes out thinking you weren’t coming home this time! Just to get up the next day and pretend like everything was alright! Do you know how emotionally exhausting this has been for me?!”

He hadn’t thought about that. Guilt settled in his chest and started to build in his throat as he listened to your rant, which soon brought you to sob.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m home…” he whispered pulling you into his strong arms, wrapping them around you.

Any resistance you had melted away against his warmth. You gave in and buried your face into his neck.

“I’m home. I’m with you and everything’s alright. Everything’s alright now.” he repeated as he soothed you with gentle kisses on the crown of your head. His palm rubbed circles against your back.

Your body was yearning for him. He could tell from the way your nails clung onto his shirt. His fingers lifted your chin to catch your gaze.

“Look at me. I’m right here. I’m with you and I’m not going anywhere, alright?” he whispered with a thumb wiping your tears away.

“I got you, hm?”

Sealing his promise with a kiss, your body softened and accepted his kiss. Then his tongue. You could feel it building in your core. That familiar lust that had haunted you during his absence. That craving that couldn’t be quenched.

Like magnets, your bodies had lost against the invisible pull. His hands slipped down to your thighs, guiding them as you straddled his lap. The heated kiss was unbroken until your hands tugged at his olive-green shirt to release it from the tuck of his camouflaged pants. You helped him pull it off over his head as he helped you remove the Pink Floyd t-shirt that once belonged to him before becoming your favorite nightgown.

As your lips collided once again – more feverish than before –, your hands roamed down to unbuckle his belt. The metal clinked as it hit the floor. John wasted no time to lay you down against the mattress. You needed him and there he finally was to take care of you. God, how he’d missed your taste.

He whispered continuous praises as his bushy beard brushed against your delicate skin, peppering kisses down to your breasts. His mouth closed around your hardening nipples, suckling them with eyes closed to relish their fullness and warmth.

“My beautiful wife. Missed you so fucking much.”

His hand kneaded each of them as he squeezed your flesh to his face. He could’ve stayed there forever, but he was eager to please you.

He forced himself up as he stood back on his knees, sat against his heels. His gaze on you was loving as if admiring a sculpture he’d carved from his own dreams. “I love you” fell from his lips over and over again, like a prayer in between the tender kisses he pressed against your legs, lifting them to rest against his broad shoulders. He hooked his fingers into your panties and slid them up your legs and tosses them to the floor. His eyes locked on yours was more than enough to cause your core to puddle. You could feel the slick building with every kiss.

He wasted no time settling between your thighs, trailing his kisses over your outer labia. This was about making you feel good. Making it sink into your brain that he was finally fucking home.

With your legs bent up over his shoulders, he moaned as he buried his mouth against your plush slick flush. One hand slid up to your breast as the other locked its fingers with your own. You moaned and wiggled against him.

He devoured you and smiled to himself as he watched the way your body arched in pleasure. The salty sweet taste of you liquefied his insides. He could feel him twitching as his cock hardened on the bed. After months of bottling in all his desires and having to satisfy himself with his hand and a photo of you in lingerie, his thirst for you was erupting beyond control. He had to remind himself that this was going to be about you.

His hips began rocking against the bed at the sounds your body was making. He was so eager to fuck you, but he had to contain himself to make it last. Yet his hunger for you had his hips grinding against the mattress, aching for any type of friction he could get as he battled with his self-control. His cock spasmed in his pants with every gentle tug on his hair or scrape of your nails on his scalp.

With his tongue building up your orgasm, it lapped over your folds and concentrated on the overly sensitive nub. He swiped and swiveled over it; the pressure in your depths grew into hot white pleasure. You weren’t going to last much longer.

The hand on your breast slid down your scorching skin to hold your hips firmly in place as you wriggled, wrestling against the implosion and failing terrible to resist until you finally caved in. Your body trembled as your legs shut on either side of his head. He smiled as he proudly admired your reaction, enjoying how quickly your chest rose and fell. The leaking precum from his dick was beginning to sink through his boxers and pants; he was almost certain he’d left a wet spot on the bedsheet.

He lifted himself off and was unable to wait any longer. He needed to feel you on his cock. Kicking his pants off provided you a moment to regain yourself and admired the way his muscles contracted under his skin. This big burly man was yours, all yours.

As he crawled back between your legs and aligned himself to penetrate, you both watched his head slowly push in through your soaking pussy in burning anticipation lathered with only the spit on his fingertips.

His eyes closed tightly shut as he bottomed out and held himself there for a moment, controlling his own increasing implosion.

You could tell he was struggling a bit between satisfying you both and giving into his own carnal needs. You cradled the sides of his face and gently guided him down to kiss him in an attempt to distract him from the wonderful hug of your cunt on his cock.

With an arm propped on the side of your head, he kissed you hungrily as his hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh and pushed your hips against his. His groin brushing on your swollen nub sent fireworks bursting through your nerves, forcing a shy moan from your throat. He smiled and pulled his head back to look down at you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As his lips latched onto your neck, his hips pulled back and slowly thrusted forward to begin his pace. Slow and gentle, but so deliciously full and stretched. You held your breath with every push and pull of his cock, clenching around it to hold him inside. You’d never let him go if you could. His cock in you made you feel so completed like this is where you both were meant to be.

His pace started to quicken. A sheen coat of sweat glazed your bodies in the cool blue light of the moon that rained in from the tall windows of your bedroom. The searing heat had begun to bubble from the inside out, oozing from your desperate desire to feel each other deeper.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed out the open door and into the hallway. His balls slammed against your perineum as your wetness began coating the bedsheet underneath, staining it with remnants of love and lust.

With labored breaths, he hugged you tightly against him with his other arm. It was building up in you for the second time and you could tell it was building in him as well. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your toes curled against his hips. The tight embrace of your pussy as you came again had him frantically hammering into you as praises flooded out from his lips.

“Feel so fucking good for me. I-I fucking love you, baby. L-love you so much.”

Releasing you to lock your fingers together, he shuddered with a deep moan and slowed to a stop. You milked every drop. The hot load filled you with an incomparable warmth in your depths. Your walls were coated in his pearly white seed.

He panted as he held himself in your cunt for a moment longer until he finally pulled out and collapsed beside you. You turned on your side to face him. His hands reached out for you and pulled you into his arms. Perfectly nestled against his hairy chest, you smiled to yourself. His heart beating against your ear was the final reminder that he was home. He was here and he was all yours.

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x reader #john kinley x you #john kinley x reader #john kinley x y/n #john kinley the covenant

314 notes · View notes

nipperlovesfenix · 5 months

Text

These are my thoughts about my family of origin:

Dad - NC. I talk about him as if he's dead. I feel pretty good about things. I'm at peace.

Mom - VLC. I'm much more at peace after that weird phone call. I don't have any desire to run to her rescue, to be the adult, to carry all our conversations, and to talk about the fucking weather. She texted me a while ago and I haven't responded. I have no desire to.

Grandma C - I should call her. I just don't want to deal with mom. Maybe on Monday. I'm not running to her rescue either. It sucks about the dementia.

Adam - I'll text him when he texts me. I'm not sending him pictures of my child. I'm not responsible for Adam. I love him. I love all of them. I wonder if I'll see him again.

Abby - I should probably block her number. I need to think about that some more. I have zero desire for a relationship with her.

BJ - if I block Abby's number I should probably block his. I feel bad for him. I think he's nice. Whatever I tell him will go to Abby of course. They would notice if I talk to him and not her. I feel bad that he married into this shit show.

Keenan - NC. I fucking love it.

Rachel, Nathan - see above.

Brock - NC and no desire to ever change that. I didn't realize how much he sucked and how much he really didn't add to my life until I removed him from it.

Kylie - ugh. I hope she will talk to me more. I don't want to bother her. I text her every once in a blue moon. I love her so much.

Kate, Kinley - I have no real way of contacting them right now. Maybe I'll see them over the summer via Steff.

Natalie - I like Kylie better lol. But I love her too and I'm glad we talk sometimes.

Judy - never again.

Cathy - she'll never talk to me. I could block her number. I probably won't.

Dan - ew. Big ew. I should probably block his number too.

There are some others. Grandpa K is someone I'll never talk to again. Larry is easy because he's a weird ass recluse. I have no idea if Marlene is even alive. Dave is someone I'd talk to. That's about it.

0 notes

gnattyplayssims · 11 months

Text

1932 Pt2 - Anabelle Stays

After a few weeks it became evident that Anabelle had no intention of leaving the camp. "Weren't you supposed to be getting on a boat?"

She shrugged, "I didn't really have a destination, I just couldn't stay where I was. This is as a good a place as any."

She grabbed a stick and stabbed it into a sausage. "If you want me to go..."

"No, no...I was just wondering." He paused "Why did you have to leave?"

"It just wasn't a good situation. It was taking it's toll on me, I was becoming someone I didn't like. I just needed to get out."

"Oh..." Kye lifted his hands to the fire not sure what else to say. He hadn't decided if he liked having Anabelle around. She had a bright way of looking at the world that would make everyone laugh but sometimes she would speak her mind and say something just a little too blunt.

Hannah yawned loudly. "I think I'm gonna head to bed. She rounded the fireplace to where her new husband was sitting, "Come to bed with me?"

He sighed, "It's still early, if you want to go to bed just go."

"But it's dark and there might be bears out here."

"Ugh okay!"

Much later Anabelle was sitting by the fire alone until the mosquitoes got out of hand. She stood up in irritation trying to brush them away.

"We can't stay here." Anabelle froze when she heard Micky's voice whispering through his tent. "Your sister would try to stop us."

Anabelle didn't want to listen in to their private conversation so she went back to sit by the fire, stretching out her sore shoulders. A moment later Hannah came out of the tent.

"Can't sleep?"

"Oh you're still awake."

"Yeah I like when things are quiet."

"Oh sorry to disturb."

Hannah started to get up but Anabelle stopped her. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Are you going to keep it?"

"What?"

"Your baby...are you going to keep it." Hannah shifted uncomfortably.

"Can you blame us if we don't, the economy-"

"No I get it. Just makes me wonder."

"Wonder about what?"

Anabelle rolled her eyes. "Come on, I'm not stupid, you might have everyone else fooled but I know an act when I see one. The you-don't-have-to-marry-me's, his hero act, leaving his family. You guys got pregnant on purpose."

"What!?"

"It's honestly brilliant. The economies terrible but farms still need help, you both needed an excuse to get away from your families and now..." she motioned to her stomach.

"I don't like what you're implying."

"Whatever" Anabelle shrugged, "it's none of my business."

Meanwhile back in Henford all the lights were on at the Hoffman farm despite the late hour. Young Rachel dozed on a chair, her poor health making it difficult for her to stay awake. "I don't know if I can do this William. Is Kinley here yet?"

"Not yet, just keep breathing."

"I'm here!"

"Finally, I don't think this baby can wait much longer."

"Okay Will, it's time for you and the boys to GET OUT. Tell Elena to bring some towels and warm water upstairs, now go."

"Okay okay." He kissed his wife on the cheek, "You've got this My Sweet."

"I can't do this! Oh Watcher what if something happens to me, to my baby."

"Easy Darling, nothing's going to happen, you're young and in good health and Kinley is a wonderful midwife."

Elena and Kinley stayed by her side until finally the newest Mizrahi entered the world.

"Congrats, Will, you're a father. Lizbeth is healthy and waiting to see you."

"Oh thank the Watcher. And...and the baby?"

"A healthy baby girl."

"A girl!" William could hardly contain his excitement as he raced up the stairs to see his wife and meet his daughter.

Lizbeth was exhausted after the long night of labor and she felt like she might be coming down with something on top of it. "Hey Sweets, why don't you go get some rest."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'll take care of the baby."

"Ivy?"

He kissed her, "I love it, our little Ivy"

The next morning Kailee was hanging the laundry. The Unger's were either at the junkyard finding useless treasures or at the Harbor trying ot sell them. She could see Kye a little ways off trying to catch fish for dinner. Anabelle on the other hand was sitting alone at the fire.

Later that evening Kailee had had enough. "I'm getting real tired of your freeloading. Everyone around here contributes and if you're going to keep eating our food you need to pull your weight."

Anabelle looked ashamed, "I'm sorry, I just don't know what I can help with."

Thankfully Anabelle wasn't actually a lazy sim, just a little spacy sometimes and too nervous to ask what she could do. After some encouragement from Kailee she decided to find her niche and soon discovered that she enjoyed gardening and found some edible plants in the forest.

She also found she enjoyed fishing, but if she were honest with herself that didn't have nearly as much to do with the activity as it did with the company. Kye was irristitable and though he never gave her any reason to think he might be interested, she couldn't help but be drawn

Finally, after two years of camping together, the Unger's finally decided to move on. "It's been great camping with you, but it was never our intention to stay this long. The fall season is here and believe me you don't want to be living here in a tent when winter gets here."

"We still have a few years before the season cycle hits winter. We'll be okay for now. But seriously thanks for everything. You've taught us so much."

Callen shook Kye's hand, "Glad we found you when we did. Maybe we'll run into you again in the future."

"Watcher only knows."

They said their goodbyes and then the Unger's left. "I think I'm only kind of going to miss them." Kailee said as they disappeared over the horizon.

Kye laughed, "And here I thought I was the only one."

"Definitely not. They helped us a lot but good Watcher, the drama."

1933 Pt1 - It Doesn't Mean Anything

#mizrahi legacy #classic generation #decades challenge #sims 4 storytelling #ts4 storytelling #ts4 legacy

1 note · View note

secondlysims · 1 year

Text

As always, Persephone turned to Kinley in her time of crisis.

“I think I might have made a mistake,” She started. “I thought that me and Bradford would be able to pick up where we left off in high school like nothing changed. But we’re -- I’m not the same person I was back then. Sometimes when we’re talking it just feels so awkward.”

“You’re looking back at your short time with Bradford with rose-colored glasses. I’ve just been waiting for you to realize that. You and him didn’t have anything special emotionally. You guys have absolutely nothing in common.”

Persephone groaned. “I know that now. But I realized it too late. I ruined everything with Randolph. Why didn’t you just shake me until I got my senses back? Before I ruined something special.”

“Trust me, I wanted to. But when I saw you and Bradford at the romance festival, I knew that you had to make a few mistakes to realize it by yourself. Bradford... isn’t the best guy, Persephone.”

#lil legacy gen 4

0 notes

the-silver-peahen-residence · 2 years

Note

Headcanons of the new moms/dads taking care of their children while their husbands/moms are busy?

(Basically like Chuya and Kenzo, Ren and Kinley, Davion and Mercedes, Shinryu with his twins, Striker with his, Trevor and Noah. I think the only one that hasn't had their kid is Adrian...)

((sure, let me see...))

Silver butterfly mun/Peahen mom

~New parents headcannons~

Chuya and Kenzo

*Chuya would see that his little boy is very active for a baby even if he was taking care of him. He made sure his son was giving everything he needed.

*He sometimes have to be sure his son wouldn't be wandering off since he loves seeing new things. Even if his hair covers his eyes, he can see just fine. He would be a giggling mess touching and wanting to explore.

*With Blade helping sometimes, he would be sure to give his darling everything he needs to help their son grow up. Even helping him sleep if he becomes fussy. He makes sure he's alright even if he got hurt, sick, or upset.

*Both Blade and Chuya sometimes sees little Kenzo reaching up but he is known for numming on things while Chuya was curious about it. though, he didn't mind it. He just smiled finding his son cute.

*Blade even gave him two dolls to keep but their son would try making something like that too for his daddies. They find their little Kenzo adorable and precious for having a caring heart.

Ren and Kinley

*Due to her switching sides, Ren had to do his best to know how to handle his daughter. He wants her to be happy and have fun but also not bite others. With her two sides of being gentle or grumpy just like their mama.

*The more gentle side of Kinley loves cuddles with her daddy and tires her best to be there for her parents Even if she's little, she's willing to protect her papa.

*The more aggressive part always demands attention so it's with her biting her father's leg or another. Sometimes, she would even growl to try proving she was a big brave girl.

*Even if the two sides are different, they were still Kinley together. So their known for switching from time to time during certain events. Ren keeps his eye on this while helping with protecting his family. Sometimes, Kinley speaks to Garu/Karu or their different sides do.

Davion and Mercedes

*He's seen his little girl always being around her dads but finds them being knights pretty fun. She would have her father read her stories of knights and other things to know more. Her imagination was big.

*Davion and Edmond is always proud of their little princess but she rather not be called just a princess. She wanted to be called a princess knight. With her growing up, it wasn't too bad and fun for her. Even with her eating healthy, and staying fit while playing with the other kids.

*Davion always makes sure she was protected and cared for but he also made sure nothing would harm her. But he was worried that due to having dragon blood in her, she'll break into that soon. Which happened due to her having some dragon appearance like blue wings and such.

*That got him training her to used to keeping in control of it while Edmond was worried but he knew their little girl was going to be alright. He and Davion will protect her with their lives if any tries harming her when she grew up.

Shinryu with his twins Apollo and Artemis

*Shinryu was always active when taking care of his babies. Knowing That Apollo and Artemis always were together with each other. They never were apart unless they were sleeping. He takes care of them while giving them baths, food, letting them nap, etc.

*He loves his babies and his mate but he wanted to be sure they were happy. Shinryu already does his best thanks to some advice from the doctors that helps him like the other new moms.

*The twins loves being together like playing and just exploring together. It's been told that Shinryu saw his little ones already showing their kitsune wolf hybird features but he was always proud of them. Though, it results in some little hic ups with them.

*During that day, he just always loves them just like Kuya while he was always keeping them close or taking naps with them while they are all curled up in a ball to sleep. Kuya saw this a few times and found it adorable even if his mate was always taking care of their kids.

Striker with his twins Katsuki and Yui

*Due to being a new parent, Striker always can multitask. Taking care of his little ones was no problem for him but he did try to learn more about the shadow snakes that come out from time to time. He didn't know much but was trying to.

*Katsuki was always clingy around Striker but she always got easily upset while Yui was always a curious little boy, wondering what was going on around him and worried of his twin sisters.

*While taking care of them growing up, Striker noticed the shadow snakes tend to show up. Some wrapping around Katsuki's shoulders nuzzling her cheek to cleaning the tears away. With Yui's shadow snakes defending/protecting him from harm. The parents noticed this but wonders if that was something new. Either way, Yakumo was sad the kids got the curse but Striker tells him he wasn't angry and the twins will understand when they got older.

*They take care of the precious babies over time to help them learn and grown. Even the shadow snakes grew along with them while bonding more with the twins that it leaves another thinking they will be a big help to them.

Trevor and Noah

*Trevor saw Noah always excited about a lot of things just like Olivine. He would sometimes play games and other things with him to his best ability due to his energy. He loved his son and wanted nothing more but his happiness.

*He did try to keep him safe and did very well at it, seeing that he can be good with helping his husband out with their son. Noah always ask questions as he grew learning about the world, even asking his mom/papa Olivine about it. He always loved teaching his son new things to help him later on.

*The two sees that Noah always had a thing for singing but he did get a pretty voice so maybe that shows he was even more adorable. Olivine and Trevor smiled thinking their son was amazing.

*He did read up on hunters but he looks to his father Trevor wondering about it. He tells him in the future when he's old enough. He wanted his son to be happy and not worry about that.

#OOC #scattered silver rose petals #ask answered #mun answered #silver butterfly mun #peahen mom #the mansion owner #anon #muses headcannons

1 note · View note

kinsbin · 3 years

Text

I WANNA GO TO VEGAS AND STAY AT AN EXPENSIVE HOTEL AND WEAR SEXY CLOTHES WHILE I GO TO GAMBLE, DRINK, AND HAVE A GOOD TIME AT RESTAURANTS WITH HANDSOME STRANGERS BUT I CAN’T SO I'M GONNA WRITE ABOUT MY INSERTS AND F/OS GOING INSTEAD

#kinley talks #I'M SCREAMING I JUST GOT HIT WIT HWANDERLUST SO BAD AND NOSTALGIA #I USED TO GO TO VEGAS ALL THE TIME BC MY FAMILY LIVED THERE AND MY DAD WORKED AT A FEW OF THE 5 STAR HOTELS #AND NOW ALL I THINK ABOUT IS JUST GOING THERE AND BEING FUCKING LIKE. SPOILED #ITS ALL I WANT NOW #-grumbles and writes a fucking whole ass fic about my f/os taking me to fun casinos and getting into nightly shenanigans and hanging out-#WRITES MULTIPLE FICS FOR EACH OF MY F/OS FOR HTIS #god i miss vegas sometimes i wanna go so bad #i love casinos #i love the lights #i love the smell of smoke in the casino and the way the hallways smell and the way you can't tell time #i love the fucking food and room service and restaurants and entertainment #i love the nostalgia of rooms with no windows and the feeling of never being able to tell time #its like you're in a dreamscape and its the mos tcomfortable thing #something you don't have to worry or think about and ITS JUST #SO AMAZING /GOD DAMMIT/

17 notes · View notes

tellemonstar · 2 years

Text

Another new fic.

I'm placing the blame solely on @hrfiction for this and she knows it.

SOMETIME IN 2024

Lt. Chloe Decker was worried. Her daughter Rory was being hunted by the same religious group who had nearly convinced her to send Lucifer back to Hell several years ago. She had thought that Kinley had been the only member of the group, but it turns out she was wrong. They had simply lain in wait for another opportunity to strike, and now they had chosen to target a toddler, simply because she was Lucifer’s child.

She finished writing the letter she had begun to compose when she’d gotten the idea that might just save her daughter. She looked over at Rory, who was happily playing with her block on a very expensive rug belonging to her father, babbling contentedly to herself. She just hoped this plan worked, because it was the only thing she could think of to save her daughter.

Rising, she folded the letter until it was small enough to fit in the pocket of Rory’s denim overalls, and went over to her daughter.

“Hi baby girl.”

“Hi Mama!” Rory reached up, wanting to be picked up. Chloe obliged and held her daughter close to her, memorising her tiny features, her smell and had to fight back tears..

“Do you remember how to make the sparklies, baby?”

Rory nodded, and a look of concentration appeared on her face. “Yep.”

“Good. Mama is going to tell you when you need to go, and then we’ll go.”

Just then, the elevator doors opened, and a man in priest’s garb stood in the car.. “Ms Decker. Hand over the child and this can all end.”

“Quickly baby, make the sparklies.” Rory concentrated as Chloe slipped the letter into the pocket of her overalls. She kissed Rory’s dark hair and set her on the floor, then whispered the date. Rory vanished.

“Where did she go?” He stepped into the penthouse, a gun now in his hands, as he looked around.

“Somewhere you’ll never find her.” Chloe raised her gun, something she’d taken to keeping on her at all times since the religious zealots had discovered Rory’s existence. “Now, leave.”

“I don’t think so.” The man fired his gun, and she felt the burn and pain of the bullet striking her. Damn, she thought. Silently, she sent out a prayer, not knowing if the recipient would even receive it. Within seconds, a woosh of displaced air told her he had, even as she sank to her knees, as her wound started to bleed profusely.

“Chloe!” Lucifer caught her carefully, then noticed the man holding the gun, who began to cross himself. Setting the woman he loved carefully against the settee, he approached the man, eyes glowing with the fires of Hell, wings outspread. It was quite the sight, and the assassin babbled and murmured in Latin under his breath.

“Prayers won’t save you now. I doubt God will appreciate you attempting to kill his niece and sister in law.”

“Recede ergo, praevaricator. Discedite, seductor, plenus mendacii et astutiae, hostis virtutis, innocentium persecutor. Cede, nefanda creatura, da monstri, cede Christo, in quo non invenisti opera tua. Nam te iam tuis viribus expoliavit ac regnum vastavit, vinctum te cepit, arma diripuit. Te proiecit in tenebras exteriores, ubi te et adiutores tuos manet aeterna ruina.”

Lucifer laughed, although well aware of Chloe’s injury and that she was suffering from a large amount of blood loss. “You’re trying to exorcise me? From my own bloody body!”

He roared and flung the man across the room, against the elevator. He groaned, but clambered to his feet. The elevator door opened and the man staggered inside, even as Maze came out.

“This is not the end, Satan. We will rid the world of your influence once and for all, you mark my words.”

Lucifer ignored him, and hurried to Chloe, whose eyes were now closed, but she was still breathing, albeit slowly. He kissed her forehead as he scooped her gently into his arms. He wasn’t sure if he’d get her to the hospital in time to make sure she didn’t bleed to death.

“What the Hell happened here?” Maze stalked over. “Where’s Pint-size?”

“Pint-size? That’s what you’re calling my daughter, Maze? Really?”

“Like you get any say in the matter. What the Hell happened?”

“I don’t know. I’m taking Chloe to Raphael to get her healed and going to see Amenadiel to see if he knows.”

“You’re going to let that feathered prick touch Chloe?”

“She’s not dying again, Maze. Not for a long time yet.” Chloe moaned softly, and he shifted his arms, holding her closer. “I’ll be back when I know more.” With that, he left the sputtering demon in his penthouse.

#lucifer fanfic #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #rory morningstar #mazikeen

29 notes · View notes

everything-redacted-and-others · 1 month

Text

whenever someone is flirting with Sam in public Darlin gets a little jealous and will just straight up go up to them and start making out with Sam and mumble “mine.. my mate” under their breath during the kiss.

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #redacted audio #redacted darlin #redacted sam #redactedverse #kinley thinks (sometimes)

213 notes · View notes

ohhmyheart5678 · 3 years

Text

When in the streets of seoul (13)

*warning* this mentions death, murder, suicide, guns, and other gruesome and dark content if you are sensitive to these kinds of things do not read the it

Chan x female reader

Word count: 1k

Previous/next

**********

"Share?" I questioned but at the same time I was trying to completely wrap my head around this. "Yah as in both hyunjin and I will be dating you. Like an open relationship type deal" the blonde curly haired boy says so nonchalantly. "but why??" He shook his head letting out a slight chuckle. "For someone so intelligent sometimes I worry about you " he joked causing me stick my tongue out at him.

He laughed at me and told me to follow him so that we could both bring the idea to hyunjin. Chan and I make our way over to his room with grins on our faces. We knock on the door and hyunjin soon opens it. "I take it you guys are back together?" He questioned but it was more of a statement and it didn't seem like he was happy about it.

Seeing him so sad made my smile start to fade. "Yea but we have some good new for you" Chris was trying to cheer him up because he hated seeing him like that almost as much as I did. Hyunjin just stood there inspecting us as if trying to read our body language. Once he finally made up his mind he stepped aside to let us in his room.

"So what's the news?" Hyunjin asked while shoving his hands in his pockets and momentarily standing on the tip of his toes, only to rock to his heels, to then placing his feet back normally on the ground. "Well I know you really like Kinley so I thought maybe we could share her?" The tall brown haired boy eyes widen "wait,are you serious ?" He was just as caught off guard as I was.

"Yeah, kindve like a polygamous relationship" Christopher says so matter of fact like. "Wait, are you serious?" Hyunjin repeats himself still trying to wrap his head around this. Hyunjin looks as me for answers but of course when I couldn’t give him any he looked back at Chris. "Yup. The only catch is that if you want to do anything with her you'd have to ask me first of course" my head shoots towards The Curly haired boy and he smirks while crossing his arms?.

"Yeah I'm sorry but, never gonna happen" Hyunjin was now very annoyed with the both of us. "I never agreed to that" this was all news to me and this asshole didn't even ask me how I felt about it. "If you really loved her you agree to my terms it's how it works, that's how it always works. Don't act brand new" Chris says so cockily and the energy in the room somehow does a complete 360.

"So let me get this straight" Hyunjin says while taking a few steps towards Chris. "You come to my room while I'm just minding my business, you make a bullshit proposal, and then you basically spit in my face by telling me to take it or leave and get mad when I don't want to agree to your dumb ass terms?" Hyunjin's voice gets louder with every step he took and at this point he was yelling in Chris's face, but the smirk on his face only grew.

"So I take that as a no then" Chris only laughed and shook his head. "It's more of a I'm tired of your bullshit thing" Hyunjin was getting more furious the bigger the smile on chris’ face grew. "Wait! Hold on, am I supposed to be scared of you?" The curly haired boy raised his eyebrow and looked the other up and down.

Hyunjin suddenly threw a punch with is right hand. I gasped but Chris only laughed "you hit like a four old you little pussy" he then proceeded to punch hyunjin back and before I knew it they were both on the floor. "Fucking stop!" I scream but they were just still going blow for blow. I would’ve tried to separate them but I didn’t want to end up with a black eye myself. So at this point, I had to to just let the fight take it’s course no matter how stupid it was and how badly I wanted it to end.

Suddenly changbin and Seugmin run in and they pull them apart , making them squirm to get free, and talk countless amount the shit at each other from across the room. "Just shut the fuck up for two seconds!!" I was completely over the whole situation. It was practically written on every inch of my body and I knew everyone in the room could feel it. The room then went into a stand still. Silence took over the room and I had everyone's attention.

"You guys are both so fucking ridiculous! You need to figure it The fuck out or else I don't want either of you because this whole ordeal is driving me insane" I had enough with the back and forth between the two. "I'm sorry Kinley I tried to make a solution to our problem but he doesn't want to take me up on my offer" chan sigh s before whisperingunder his breath “fucking idiot” Chris didn't couldn't put his stupid ego for two seconds. "It's the way you went about it" I informed him because I didn't think he seemed to get it through his self-seeking brain.

"Next time come correct bitch" Hyunjin spat at him and Chris rolled his eyes. "Suck my dick" Chris still always being so calm at collected and still remaining in order yet so disrespectful. "I can still fuck you up" He squirmed to get at him again but changbin was doing a good job at holding him back.

"This is exactly what I'm taking about! Tuck your egos away for me please and stop having a dick measuring competition. it's honesty not that hard- you know what? Never mind!" I began to storm out but managed to get out "why do I even try with you two?" before slamming the door. I walk to Felix's room so that he could help me calm down and put a smile back on my face.

"Hey what's up kiddo- what's wrong kin?" The smile on his face leaves when he see all the mixed emotions all over my on mine. "You know what we don't have to talk about it, just come here" he opens his arms and invites me into his warm embrace. I cry on his shoulder and he just rubs my back in circles. He smelled of a slight citrus and his body heat warmed me up a little. "Ya know, I really wished this didn't happen on a day that I was wearing one of my favorite shirts" he joked and it caused me to laugh. Something he always seemed to do was put a smile on my face when I needed it the most "I'm glad I could make you smile" He wipes the tears of my face and we just sit there in silence.

******

Previous/next

58 notes · View notes

absynthe--minded · 3 years

Note

The Consent discourse regarding the sex scenes?

oh boy this is gonna be a long one.

tl;dr up front: MDZS is a romance novel, and I’ve read a lot of romance novels, and I think it handles its consent issues way better than a solid 95% of the other books in this genre that I’ve bothered to go through cover to cover. that being said, nobody should ever have to feel like they need to defend or tolerate something that triggered them, or upset them, or hurt them in some way, and I am absolutely fully in favor of these issues being discussed and talked about in a way that warns people they’re there. I am fully in support of anybody who doesn’t like the book because of the presence of dubiously consensual sex. that’s a super legit reason to be uncomfortable or triggered or upset. I’m also not ever going to say that not liking dubcon in a story is a bad thing. my frustration with the consent discourse is basically that I feel like it’s a conversation being held by people who aren’t familiar with romance as a genre, or with the places where MDZS rises above other romance novels, as well as a conversation that ignores that romance uses sex as a narrative device and a metaphor and not just as an idealized portrayal of true love.

more below the cut - tw: discussions of rape, dubcon, and consent in fiction.

I’m not a scholar of romance novels the way I’m a scholar of Tolkien, so I can’t really trace the development of trends in the genre, but I do read a lot of romance, because I’m a lesbian and I like urban fantasy and historical fiction and stories about women having fun adventures and getting what they want, and romance novels are an easy way to get those things as fast as possible. most of my observations are in this kind of fannish capacity.

but. romance has a consent problem, and it’s had a consent problem as long as the genre has existed.

this isn’t the post for a long drawn-out exploration of things like “how many humans on average tend to have rape fantasies?” or “why is it a statistical average that most people are bottomy in their sexual fantasies, rape or otherwise?” but one of the things that I think is worth bringing up wrt MDZS and WangXian is that constrained consent or a lack of consent and how the characters react to that is often endemic to romance as a genre. and I’m not just talking about sex scenes, either (though we’ll get to the 80s bodice rippers, I promise)

you’ve got plots like “My shitbag father fucked over an angsty rich guy so he’s keeping me hostage in his mansion and I’m not allowed to leave” (Anne Stuart, Night of the Phantom) or “I was going to be executed for stealing food but the local lord took pity on me and brought me to his house explicitly to be his wife and I’ll be expected to sleep with him whether I like it or not” (Amanda Ashley, Beauty’s Beast) or “I’m the heir to a substantial percentage of England in terms of sheer amount of land and I’m an orphan and the King has to marry me off to someone who’s both popular with the common people and strong enough to fend off attempts to seize my assets” (Kinley Macgregor, A Dark Champion). you’ve also got the eternal urban fantasy plot of “I’m a normal human woman/human-seeming woman with Power I Didn’t Know About who saw something forbidden to mortal eyes/otherwise became a target of the bad guys, so now I’m being held against my will by a brooding angsty magical creature so he can Protect Me”. that one is actually worse than a lot of the others because the woman in the standard urban fantasy plot usually tries to escape or constantly talks about how she’s being kept hostage, and it’s intended to be a signpost to the audience that she’s not a weak and passive damsel in distress but that she has Backbone and Intelligence and all that.

all of these are, on some level, about the main character(s) being placed in situations they didn’t consent to, and how they cope with that. (a lot of the time there’s also really clumsily written Threats To The Heroine’s Virtue from a cartoonishly unrealistic would-be rapist, in addition to whatever else is going on. the amount of times that I’ve read a book where a hero all too happy to dubcon his way into the woman’s bed then turns around and saves her from Evil Snidely Whiplash Rapist as a way of proving he’s a good person underneath... sigh.) and a lot of other plots are that way too! the Consent Discourse about MDZS is tapping into a conversation that’s existed wrt romance as a whole for a long time.

here’s why I think MDZS is different from basically every other romance novel: it knows it’s about consent.

the vast majority of the stories I alluded to up there really don’t seem to know that they’re dealing with a plot that centers around the heroine (and sometimes hero) coping with a loss of autonomy. she winds up being totally happy to be held hostage, or married off to some stranger, or protected by a brooding angsty dark magic man, or bound up in destiny and fated to fall in love. the violation of her consent is the framework for getting her in the same environment as her love interest, and we-the-audience are supposed to accept it as - well, if not okay, then acceptable, because it’ll all work out in the end. (there’s a lot of sometimes-unintentional commentary here about how specifically AFAB people in Western societies are often expected to deal with/make the best of/find happiness in situations outside of their control, but that’s also for another post, perhaps.) MDZS doesn’t do that. MDZS addresses the fact that neither Wei Wuxian nor Lan Wangji have been taught how to effectively communicate with one another, and their failings have consequences.

Lan Wangji ambushes WWX and kisses him while he’s blindfolded. This is done without permission, and without WWX even knowing who it is that’s put him in this position. He then goes on to treat it like one of his most egregious moral failings, and lose confidence in his ability to be honorable when it comes to dealing with WWX, and this matters to the story. LWJ viewing what he did as more or less unforgivable means he doesn’t open up to WWX about his feelings, which means WWX has no clue LWJ loves him. And as one of the many consequences to this, they spend the majority of the book married but one party has no idea it’s actually happened! They blunder around, and refuse to acknowledge how they feel, and need alcohol for any semblance of honesty because it breaks down their inhibitions. They almost completely fail at being a couple because when it comes down to brass tacks they cannot spit it out.

this lack of openness and lack of communication manifests in their lives further when it comes to the various dubiously consensual moments of intimacy that they have. their sexual incompatibility is a direct consequence of their failure to talk. they do have problems, and when those problems come to light, they’re meaningful and impactful. there is dubious consent in the first time they have sex, in their making out, in their near misses and their brief meetings. this is the point. they’re not supposed to be a healthy, functional relationship yet. they have sex for the first time and then have to deal with the fact that it happened under false pretenses and due to miscommunication. the theme of the book is learning how to come together and work together. they have to learn to communicate before their dysfunction is fixed.

and they do! the climax of the book is WWX admitting his feelings for LWJ, and LWJ realizing the depth of their miscommunication, and both of them coming together finally. the theme of this book is made manifest in their healing and joining. and only then can they have a true healthy marriage. and I like that? I like that the problems and the issues matter, and that both parties have to resolve it? I also like that just because WWX liked being kissed doesn’t mean his consent wasn’t violated and that this transgression doesn’t matter, because that’s in stark contrast to the 1980s bodice rippers where the heroine can be basically sexually assaulted or raped but it’s totally fine, she secretly enjoyed it so it doesn’t matter. (there’s yet another post I could make here about how this is a direct response to sexual mores harshly applied to women, where the only way they could feel safe admitting their desires was in situations where resistance was impossible, but that’s not for here)

I’m just one person, and this is a lot of text about consent, but ultimately? I like that MDZS deals with these issues realistically. I like that violation and miscommunication and unintentional deception are all weighty and meaningful.

this is one of the most realistic-feeling romance novels I’ve ever read, and its flawed characters that are supposed to be flawed are part of that.

#replies #anon replies #mdzs #I'm still a Tolkien blog I promise

51 notes · View notes

myskittishnovel · 3 years

Text

Prologue

In any other land, children learned early not to call it “magic”. The word appealed to the littler ones, of course, the romance and inexplicability of it, implying no limits and no effort, like an everlasting playtime in an ever-wild, ever-expanding field. Certainly, wherever you had several five or six-year-olds gathered together you were sure to find at least one of them insisting that in the pretend world they’d built together, he was a mage. But before long, even the child who clung to those games longest would learn to call it what it really was, swayed by all the patient corrections from well-meaning grown-ups: it’s not really magic, it’s more of a knack. It’s not really magic, it’s difficult and it requires years of training. It’s not really magic, it’s a combination of innate talent and dedicated willingness to work until your hands bled or your back broke. It’s not really magic, it’s just devotion.

It wasn’t even that the grown-ups were being pedantic; devotion wasn’t magic. Wielding a sword forged by devotion was no guarantee that you wouldn’t be summarily defeated. Drinking a tea of herbs grown by devotion wouldn’t necessarily heal any ailments that couldn’t be addressed by a similar, more ordinary tea. It didn’t happen often, but people with creature devotion did, occasionally, get trampled by wild beasts or bitten by poisonous snakes, and some storms were big enough even to wreck devotees’ boats. And even if a particular kind of devotion could put out a fire or find a lost sheep or save a life, it wasn’t much use in an emergency anyway, because you had to go all the way to whatever land that devotion came from to find someone who could help—but then, was it any wonder? Talents ran in families, too, and a father could sometimes pass on his expertise to a son or daughter.

So there was a clear danger in putting too much faith in it, and by the time children were old enough to discern if they had the capacity, they’d been carefully educated out of all dizzy daydreams into a responsible sobriety – so responsible, in fact, that plenty of children were relieved when they found they wouldn’t have to walk that path. Being ordinary had its benefits; you still had to work hard with what talents you possessed, but if nothing remotely remarkable came of it, nobody minded. Devotion was often thankless, promising a lifetime of stretching yourself and your craft to the furthest limits, only to find that you’d created what was merely a particularly nice specimen. No, parents and grandparents took great care to ensure that nobody called it magic.

Nobody, that is, except for the people of Kien and Kinley. In Kien, no one was born with devotion. And in Kinley, everyone was born with devotion—a devotion which seemed to have no hard limits to it at all.

They had other lessons to teach their children.

---

“five”

Serjeo and Eldyn were five years old when they first heard the legend of the divitiae Finian. They were sitting on the floor of the playroom, left pretty much to their own devices; they had a nursemaid, but she was preoccupied with Serjeo’s brother Giancarlo, who was two and angelically fond of everyone. Serjeo was only fond of Eldyn—they’d been lately trying to create their own secret language in the service of never having to let anyone else into their games, but as soon as they’d learned their new, invented words properly, they’d found that they needed to make up even more words to be able to say anything with them. It was a large project, having your own language. Serjeo didn’t know how twins did it.

“I think we should be able to say let’s go outside,” Eldyn put in.

Serjeo peered at him. Eldyn could be tricky to understand sometimes. “Do you actually want to go outside?”

“No,” Eldyn said. “But in case.”

Serjeo thought this over, and then made a series of high-pitched warbling sounds followed by a click that was more of a spit, which Eldyn repeated dutifully. “That will mean we want to go outside,” Serjeo said. Eldyn nodded and made a careful note of this on the growing dictionary for their new language. The dictionary would have been more helpful if they were better at spelling, but sometimes Eldyn drew pictures, and that helped. This picture was of the wide green stretch in the middle of the gardens, with the sun shining above, and two boys standing happily in the middle of the sketch. Serjeo took the pencil and added some spit around their mouths, so when they saw the picture they would remember how the new word sounded. Eldyn nodded in approval; this was good sense.

“Your Highness?”

Serjeo looked up; one of the maids was in the doorway. “Yes?” he said, craning his neck to look out the window. It was early yet for either of his parents to be calling him. If they wanted him to come downstairs so soon, he was going to try to bring Eldyn with him. Making official appearances was always more fun when he had Eldyn with him.

“Master Eldyn’s mother is here, so she can introduce him to his new baby sister.”

Serjeo looked sideways at Eldyn, who was considering this, and would probably consider it quite a long time if nobody helped him. He came up with the best ideas this way, but Serjeo didn’t think this was anything important, and therefore didn’t deserve the full focus of Eldyn’s thought. Serjeo made the chicken-squawk sound that in their language meant an all-purpose well?, what’s going on?, or what do you think?

After a moment, Eldyn said “Blergle-mip-zeallo,” which meant “I think we should do it together.” Serjeo was thinking about changing Blergle-mip-zeallo; it got quite a lot of use, and a shorter word would probably be easier.

Serjeo turned back to the maid and announced, “He wants me to come, too. I think it’s a good idea for me to meet his baby sister. I know all about Giancarlo, after all.”

The maid laughed as if this was the funniest joke she had ever heard; the boys might have found this insulting, but they were used to it. Grown-up people tended to laugh whenever Serjeo and Eldyn communicated in front of them; Eldyn said it was probably to cover up their jealousy for being left out. “I don’t think anyone will object to your coming along, Highness,” the maid said, wiping her eyes. “My goodness. There really is no danger of either of you becoming a Finian, is there?”

Serjeo checked; Eldyn looked as blank as he felt. “What’s a Finian?” he asked.

“You boys haven’t heard the legend of Finian?” the maid exclaimed. The boys shook their heads. The maid looked over their heads, and must have gotten approval from the nursemaid, because she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Finian was a divitiae long ago, years and years before the Academy was ever established. He didn’t know what we know today.”

Eldyn shifted uncomfortably. “Serjeo and me haven’t been to Academy yet.”

“Maybe,” the maid said, “but you certainly have more sense than poor Finian did. See, Finian had a socius, and Finian was a pretty good divitiae. But he thought that if one bond allowed him to access his devotion, then the more bonds he made, the more devotion he would have.”

Serjeo’s mouth dropped open, and he looked askance at Eldyn. Eldyn’s eyes had narrowed, a sure sign he did not like what he was hearing.

The maid raised her eyebrows quickly and then lowered them again. “So, he went out and found himself another socius inopiae. He did the whole ceremony, took the vow, and formed the bond. At first he didn’t feel any different. It didn’t seem like his devotion was any greater. So what do you think Finian did then?”

“He couldn’t do anything,” Eldyn said. “You can’t break the bond.”

“Ah, but Finian didn’t want to break the bond. If it didn’t work with a second socius, Finian wanted a third.”

Eldyn groaned. Serjeo sympathized; he couldn’t see where this was going, but it was nowhere good.

“So on and on he went,” the maid said with relish, “finding more and more Kienesians to swear himself to, more and more socii. When he had six socii he thought maybe he felt more powerful; when he had ten he was sure he was accomplishing greater feats of devotion than anyone ever had before. But it wasn’t until he had twelve that he reached the height of his strength. In fact, it was Finean who created the pass through the Day Mountains.”

“All by himself?” Eldyn said, at the same time as Serjeo said, “He knocked down a mountain?”

“But he wasn’t by himself,” the maid pointed out. “He had twelve socii with him. But there was trouble waiting for him on the other side of the mountains.”

“The Nomivins?” Serjeo said. He was good at geography. His father had lots of maps in his study, and sometimes when he was working he let Serjeo trace them with his finger if he was quiet.

“Not quite,” the maid said. “When they got through the mountains, Finian’s socii couldn’t agree about what to do. Some of them wanted to attack Nomivik, some of them wanted to send a messenger down to establish friendship, some of them wanted to go home and build the mountain back up behind them. They’d never disagreed before. Each of them had been happy to become a socius, and happy with everything Finian was able to accomplish with all that power. But now, they had different ideas and different plans, and Finian couldn’t get them to agree. No matter how much he pleaded and argued, still they fought with each other. They were talking about splitting up, and Finian didn’t want that, so he reached for his devotion to do a small spell: just something that would make his voice louder so they could hear him. But even for something that simple, the bond required that his action be for his socius.”

Serjeo nodded wisely. Everyone knew that. It was the one rule of devotion, the one rule of being a divitiae.

“For his socius,” the maid repeated, “and Finian had twelve. Maybe his desire to have his voice heard was selfish; maybe it would have sickened his devotion no matter what. But one thing is certain: because his socii’s interests were divided and opposed, when Finian tried to use his devotion, it was at war with itself, too, pulled in all different directions. Finian’s voice grew louder and louder until it didn’t even seem to come from him at all, and then there was a sound so great that it knocked over all his socii—and when they recovered themselves and stood up, Finian was gone. He had exploded, torn apart by his many bonds.”

Serjeo knew his eyes were wide and stupid, and he blinked hard a few times to make them normal again. But the maid looked pleased with herself, and he supposed he was glad for her that she’d told it so well. Serjeo asked, “Did that really happen?”

The maid lifted her hands in a wide shrug. “No one knows. The story is very old, but it is the only explanation we know for how the pass got there.”

“Sometimes rivers can cut through mountains,” Serjeo said, thinking of the maps.

“There’s no river in the pass,” the maid told him.

“Maybe there used to be, and it dried up?” Serjeo guessed.

“That’s a good thought,” she said. “Maybe.”

“I think it’s awful,” Eldyn said. “I wouldn’t want to have any other socius but you.”

Serjeo felt his heart swell in his chest, and tried to think how to say And I would hate it if you exploded in their secret language. They had words for “I hate” and a word for “you”, but none of the little ones to show this was a made-up situation; they somehow hadn’t known they would need to be able to say “explode”, either. “Your other socius wouldn’t know how to say prakligor,” he said instead.

Eldyn smiled without saying anything. “Prakligor” meant “best friend”.

The maid pressed her lips together tightly like she was trying not to smile too, and then gestured behind her. “So, Your Highness, Master Eldyn, would you like to come downstairs now?”

“We would be pleased to,” Serjeo said politely, clambering to his feet, Eldyn following.

Dona Riain was waiting in one of the parlors; Serjeo’s mother was sitting in a chair with four cushions, and she smiled at them without getting up. She was going to have another baby herself in not very long, and hadn’t been doing a lot of walking lately. Dona Riain was pacing from one side of the room to another, singing so quietly that it almost wasn’t singing at all, the baby wrapped up in blankets in her arms. Serjeo kissed his mama’s cheek dutifully and then went over with Eldyn to get a look at the new baby. She looked like babies always do, as far as he could tell, with Eldyn’s black hair and blue eyes, but Eldyn seemed very interested. He had a couple of brothers, older than him, but this was his first younger sibling, and his first sister.

“Her name is Taryn,” Dona Riain told them.

Taryn opened her mouth and yelled as loud as her baby voice could go. Serjeo winced; he didn’t remember Giancarlo screaming like that. Giancarlo loved everyone too much to yell at them.

Dona Riain saw his wince and laughed. “She just feels very strongly about something,” she said, joggling the baby so that her cry wobbled, “and doesn’t know how else to tell us.”

Serjeo nodded politely. But inside, he thought that until Taryn could figure out how to tell them what she was thinking, he and Eldyn should be allowed to go back to their dictionary.

But Eldyn was sitting in one of the chairs having his arms propped up with cushions, and Dona Riain was handing the baby to him. Taryn kept on screaming, but Eldyn looked down at her solemnly, without flinching, as if he could figure out what she wanted just by listening. It was one of his serious moments, and Serjeo settled onto a cushion on the floor at his mama’s feet.

They could be here a while.

---

“eight”

Bryony and Liam were eight years old the first time they heard the legend of Phelan and King Fabrizio. It was the height of summer, sticky and rainy, which Liam hated, but Bryony loved. Harvest would come soon enough and there would be work even for the smallest of hands, but for now they were passed from hand to hand throughout the village, watched but not closely, free to get into whatever trouble they wanted to as long as they weren’t obvious about it.

They’d been obvious yesterday. They’d spent multiple hours ripping up turf and moss from a path down the hill, and then when it rained they’d taken turns flinging themselves down it again and again until every layer of clothing and skin was caked in mud. It had been a fantastic day, but they hadn’t managed to get themselves presentable before their respective mothers had seen them, and so now they had been placed under the care of Signora di Rienzo for the day. Signora di Rienzo was Antonio’s grandmother, and Antonio was grown-up with a beard and a house of his own, so Signora di Rienzo was really old, but she had sharp eyes and an endless number of chores for misbehaving children. They’d already dusted and swept and polished everything in sight, with no spare moments to create trouble under her nose, let alone sneak away. Bryony thought somehow she felt more revolting now than she’d felt when she was covered head-to-toe in mud; now she had dust in her hair and something sticky from the cups on the top shelf under her fingernails. The dirt inside was worse than the dirt outside. She poked a broom up into the corner of the ceiling where a spiderweb was hanging, and then made a betrayed and disgusted sound when a strand of it failed to cling to the broom and drifted down to drape delicately over her ear. She did a twitchy, horrified dance to try to get it off, but stilled when she heard Liam laughing at her. She turned and hit him with a chilly, dignified glare.

“You have a spider on your shoulder,” he said.

“I do not,” she retorted, resisting the urge to shiver and swat blindly.

He grinned, and stepped forward to scoop something gently off of her sleeve, which he then opened his hand to show her: a tiny golden spider, which had curled itself into a ball in alarm following its adventurous journey from web to dress to hand. Bryony felt her chilliness and her dignity collapse in a stupid puddle.

“Signora di Rienzo, I found a spider!” Liam called. “Can I put it outside?”

“Don’t raise your voice at me, Liam,” Signora di Rienzo said, not impatiently.

Liam obediently trailed through the doorway with his cupped hands lifted aloft; Bryony shuffled after him. “Do you want to see it?” he offered.

“No,” Signora di Rienzo said. Liam nodded, and awaited her judgement. If it had been Bryony asking, she would probably have been suspicious, but it was Liam, so Signora di Rienzo just said, “Put it near the plants, maybe it will catch whatever’s eating holes in my basil.” Grown-ups liked Liam. They didn’t dislike Bryony, but they liked her better when Liam was around to rein in some of her worst ideas. And as much as it annoyed her that Liam’s free pass to fresh air had been found crawling around on her, the mudslide had been her idea.

Liam said, “Yes, signora,” and disappeared outside. While he wasn’t looking, Bryony allowed herself a full-body twitch and a mindless swat at the general area the spider had occupied. She felt better, a little.

Signora di Rienzo gave Bryony a measuring look and then jerked her head toward the door. “You’d better go with him. There’s a bucket of water by the windowsill, both of you wash up and then come in and help me snap beans.”

“Yes, signora!” Bryony said gratefully. She rushed out the door. Liam was coaxing the spider onto a broad leaf, and she considered pushing him into the garden just for the fun of it, and decided against it. He had actually saved her from the spider, even if she’d thought he was teasing. She settled for shrieking, “Hurry up if you want any water!” as she passed him, and then splashing him accidentally-on-purpose when he caught her up. He splashed her back, and then started washing without asking her what they were doing. Liam was good like that.

It was much nicer to be sitting at a table snapping beans than crawling around in all the dingiest places in Signora di Rienzo’s house, but it was still nothing like freedom, and Bryony itched to be anywhere else. Her cousins were older, but they would probably have let her and Liam follow them around for the day, if they weren’t stuck here. She said, testing, “I think Mama said my aunt would need help later.” This wasn’t a lie. Her mother had said this, albeit meaning later as in later in the year and meaning help as in help not from Bryony or Liam. But it was better to tell the truth when you could.

Signora di Rienzo eyed Bryony over her much larger pile of beans—she was devilishly quick at snapping beans, and they snapped perfect every time, while Bryony kept on trying them in the wrong place so they just looked bent—and pursed her lips. “Your mama told me that you’d both be here until suppertime.”

“That’s true,” Bryony said, unashamed. Liam kicked her under the table, and she kicked him back. His pile of beans was bigger than hers was, too.

Signora di Rienzo looked back and forth between the two of them, evidently thinking. Bryony hoped she was thinking that Bryony was too useless at chores to be asked to do them, and might as well go lay in the grass until supper if she had to stay out of trouble. But no such luck. Signora di Rienzo asked, “Have you children ever heard the legend of King Fabrizio?”

Bryony looked over at Liam, who shrugged at her. “No,” she answered for both of them.

“I’m going to tell it to you,” Signora di Rienzo said.

“Fine,” said Bryony.

Liam kicked her again, and said, “Yes, please, signora.”

Signora di Rienzo was quiet for a moment as she considered how to begin, then she said thoughtfully, “The rules have always been different for royal Kienesians. Each member of the royal family always has a socius divitiae, while most ordinary Kienesians and even most of the nobles only have a socius if they’re very lucky. It was always meant to be a choice freely made, not a guarantee; the Kienesians were never supposed to take the power of the Kinleyans for granted, the Kinleyans were never supposed to be enslaved to the whims of the Kienesians, even the royal ones. But what’s meant to be isn’t often the same as what is, and royalty has ways of getting its way. So when King Fabrizio took the throne of Kien, many, many years ago, everyone knew he was not a good man—the last sort of man that a Kinleyan would have wanted for his socius. But because he was king, a Kinleyan man was chosen: Phelan, a good man, picked because he was just and wise and uncorruptible. Phelan presented himself to the king and swore himself to his service. But it is a hard thing for a good man to be in the service of an evil one, and it is an especially hard thing for a good man to be socius divitiae to an evil socius inopiae.”

Bryony squirmed. She didn’t think Signora di Rienzo was implying anything about her penchant for getting Liam into trouble, but the talk of evil partners and what kind of partners you would want to choose was making her uncomfortable. She picked up a particularly floppy bean and tore at it morosely.

“Phelan was a good man and a good socius, so he wanted to do what was best for Fabrizio. But what is best for a man who has taken what is not his? What is best for a man who desires what will destroy him?”

Death, Bryony thought, but did not say.

“Change?” Liam guessed.

“Perhaps,” Signora di Rienzo acknowledged. “But Phelan didn’t know. Sometimes he did what Fabrizio wanted, and sometimes he did what he thought Fabrizio should have wanted, even if he didn’t. Back and forth, again and again. Fabrizio never wanted what was good for him, only what would make him more powerful; he was happy when Phelan did what he wanted, and furious when Phelan did anything else. Phelan quickly grew tired, and over time, he grew lost. He wanted to save his socius from himself, but he had forgotten what it took to be saved. Phelan thought that he could change Fabrizio—if he, Phelan, grew more powerful. He could gain power easily, because that was what Fabrizio wanted, and then once he had it, he thought he could use it to restore what was missing in Fabrizio’s heart. But when Phelan harnessed Fabrizio’s wishes and reached for the power, Fabrizio’s dark desires took root in his own heart and poisoned him, and when he tried to change the king he only made him more strong and more monstrous. Fabrizio looked at his socius and finally saw a partner made in his own image, and he laughed. There was just enough of Phelan’s true self left that he knew he had to undo what he had done, but not enough that he could remember how, or knew what a good outcome would look like. In despair, he transformed into a great eagle, took Fabrizio in his talons, and carried him away, past Lynbar, past the desert, and into the mountains, where they couldn’t hurt anyone. Neither of them was ever seen again.”

Liam looked suitably impressed. Bryony glumly kicked a table leg and pretended she didn’t see Signora di Rienzo’s responding look of disapproval.

“What do you suppose we are meant to learn from that story?” Signora asked.

“You can’t make somebody want something,” Liam offered.

She nodded. “Bryony?”

Bryony made a face. “Don’t serve bad kings?”

Signora di Rienzo raised her eyebrows. “Something a bit less literal, perhaps?”

“I don’t know.”

Signora di Rienzo took a deep breath—not quite a sigh of frustration like it would have been if it were Bryony’s mother, but maybe a sigh of stalling so she wouldn’t get frustrated—then said, “It means you can’t accomplish something good by doing something bad.”

Bryony met her eyes and said, “You mean I shouldn’t destroy a perfectly nice hill and Liam’s and my clothes just so we can have a mudslide, don’t you.”

Signora di Rienzo inclined her head. “It will take a long time for anything else to root there. There’s more danger of flooding at the bottom of the hill now. We rely on the earth to house and protect us, and we should respect it. And yes, you should consider the meaning of your actions, which you openly acknowledge to be destructive, and not just your wishes for amusement.”

“Yes, signora,” Bryony said humbly. She thought, If I only considered my wishes, I would have high-tailed it out of here hours ago.

Signora di Rienzo must have read her mind, because she scooped the rest of the beans into her skirt, then jogged her head in the direction of the door. “Run along. Stay where I can hear you.”

Bryony didn’t need to be told twice, and took off running with a shout of thanks over her shoulder and Liam at her heels. The sun beat down, and Bryony kicked off her shoes and felt the grass under her feet, and didn’t worry about anything.

----

[second part here]

----

This is an original work. All rights, to the characters, the concepts, and the world, are reserved to the author.

#this is ALL part of the prologue to be clear #and in fact this is only roughly a third of the prologue #book one proper doesn't start for a while #excerpts from the cateverse

5 notes · View notes

chandry-is-the-clown · 3 years

Text

OC Interview- Ana Gray

Saw this post on the ShoH tumblr and wanted to do it for my MC too!!

(art by @cariykon)

? Name ? "Ana Gray. Nice to meet you,” she answers with an easy smile, resting her chin in her palm.

? Are you single ? She hums affirmatively, “At the moment, yes.”

? Are you happy ? "Is anyone?” she laughs.

? Are you angry ? “Well, not right now. Lucky you, eh?”

? Are your parents still married ? She blinks, and smiles rather forcefully. “Yes, I’d like to think so.”

NINE FACTS

? Birth Place ? “Westwood, a little settlement on the western Frontier.”

? Hair Color ? She smirks and brushes a hand through her ash-grey, almost white hair. “Grey, of course! It’s in the name, silly.”

? Eye Color ? “Gold,” she says, blinking her eyes sweetly. “I rather like it.”

? Birthday ? She shrugs noncommittally.

? Mood ? “Well, I’m smiling, aren’t I?”

? Gender ? “Female, undoubtedly.”

? Summer or winter ? “Winter, obviously. I’ve been through enough desert to know that cold’s better than hot, any day.”

? Morning or afternoon ? “I’m not partial to either. “

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE?

? Are you in love ? She laughs. “No. Not right now, anyway.”

? Do you believe in love at first sight ? She shakes her head. “Maybe not at first sight. Love is... Strange. Takes time to put together. And there’s definitely not enough in one little glance.”

? Who ended your last relationship ? She smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of her neck. “I did... Traveled a lot. Had my fun sometimes when we stopped in towns. Some people aren’t fond of... ‘dalliances.’”

? Have you ever broken someone’s heart ? “I doubt it. I’ve never been around long enough to be able to do that to someone.”

? Are you afraid of commitments ? "Well, if I was, I wouldn’t be here, would I?” She smiles mischievously and leans in close. “But between you and me, I always have my bag packed nearby in case I need to cut and run.” She barks out a laugh, leaning back in her chair. “I’m joking, come on! Don’t look at me like that.”

? Have you hugged someone within the last week ? She laughs, “Of course! The last hour, in fact.”

? Have you ever had a secret admirer ? "Well, undoubtedly. Just look at me.”

? Have you ever broken your own heart ? “Sometimes, you make mistakes.”

SIX CHOICES

? Love or Lust ? “Can’t a girl have both?”

? Lemonade or iced tea ? She makes a sour face. “Neither, ugh.”

? Cats or Dogs ? ”Mm, cats, I think. Dogs don’t sit well with me.” She scrunches up her nose. “Too noisy.”

? A few best friends or many regular friends ? “Can’t really say. Never really had any.”

? Wild night out or romantic night in ? “I can enjoy both, depending on the company.” She sprouts a cheeky grin, “Though I’d much more appreciate a wild night in.”

? Day or night ? “Night, I think. Direct sunlight burns my skin something fierce.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

? Been caught sneaking out ? She sighs, “Unfortunately.” She rests her elbows on the table and leans in to tell the story, “Met a girl in a little backwater village out near Kinley. Must’ve caught her eye while we were passing through because--well,” she waves her hand over her face, indicating her distinctive appearance. “Anyway, we were both down for a roll in the hay or two, and her father was supposed to be running errands in the city ‘till the next day, so she snuck me into her house to have a little fun.

“Well, her da came back that evening, and caught us cuddlin’ in her bed post-coitus. I might’a panicked and, err... Grabbed my clothes and ran.”

She chuckles. “Chased me halfway across town, but I gave him the slip. I think it was an impressive escape, too. You ever seen somebody get dressed at a full sprint?”

? Fallen down/up the stairs ? “Never fell down myself. But, in my line of work, you get thrown down stairs sometimes. It’s something of an occupational hazard.”

? Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? “Haven’t we all?”

? Wanted to disappear ? “Of course I have.” She laughs, hollow and bitter. “Where I come from, Inquisitors would shoot you in the face if you so much as breathed near ‘em.” Her look turns steely. “Seen it myself.” The iladrin glitters in her eyes. “Wouldn’t you, if you were me?”

FOUR PREFERENCES

? Smile or eyes ? “Oh, that’s adorable. Think I like the smiles, ‘specially when they’re so bright, it’s infectious.” She laughs.

? Shorter or Taller ? "Mm, taller.”

? Intelligence or Attraction ? "Seems shallow to choose one, doesn’t it? Sure, I like folk that can match wits with me, but can you blame a girl for liking ‘em pretty?

? Hook-up or Relationship ? “Mm, either works, so long as we both enjoy it.”

FAMILY

? Do you and your family get along ? She casts a glance around her. “Yeah, I think we do.”

? Would you say you have a “messed up life” ? She gives you a flat look. “Yes.”

? Have you ever ran away from home ? She shrugs. “Home is wherever I am. I couldn’t escape it if I wanted to.”

? Have you ever gotten kicked out ? “Well, they can’t kick you out if you leave first.”

FRIENDS

? Do you secretly hate one of your friends ? "What the fuck are you talking about?”

? Do you consider all of your friends good friends ?. “Well, yes. They could certainly be worse.”

? Who is your best friend ? She grins, “Why, Caine of course!”

? Who knows everything about you ? She gives an impish grin. “Only the gods, my friend. And I think I like it that way.”

Tagging:

@elloratic-art

#ana gray #shoh mc #shepherds of haven #oc interview #haven't written anything with ana yet surprisingly #well anything where she's in a good mood anyway #she's fun!! I love her uwu

20 notes · View notes