#gave up on shadow's completely ill design him new ones later
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My take on a Sonadow fankid! She actually existed for a while now, but the trend gave me motivation to finally draw her!
Most sonadow fankids are purplish and tube-grown, so I decided to make her neither!
Background for the story under cut, in case it gets long!
So in this AU, stories from the more recent games happen when Sonic and Shadow are at most around 20 years old. Back then Sonic was rambunctious and reckless as we know him to be, and Shadow was a depressed, traumatized emo kid. While at first they were rivals as depicted in the games.
Over the years tho, just like their friends, the two matured. They started getting along a lot more, and became official friends, which eventually lead to dating. They both were afraid of getting serious though, so they took things slow and casual. Due to some of their unresolved issues, they couldn't get any closer. But not for much longer.
Some of it has been brought on by a Particular Event, and some of it due to restructuring how they go about saving the world, but things changed. As Forces has shown, putting so much responsibility on One Guy isn't wise. Sonic felt so quilty for failing, but it never should've been his job alone, so they created an organization, to share the load more evenly!
The org became global, with local groups of heroes being recruited all around, meaning that now the characters we know and love now had more time to take care of their personal lives.
While for some the change hasn't been much, Sonic, and to a lesser extent, Shadow, struggled quite a lot. Many of things happened in between, but eventually both of them grew to quite enjoy the domestic life.
They moved in together, and started taking things to the next level, now that both have done some healing and therapy. They found that they get along quite great. After a bit longer, they decided to start a family :)
Shadow came up with the name. He wanted to honor his sister's memory, but Mar-Mar was also a symbol of all his progress. He did go to therapy to make sure that he can handle them sharing a name, to see if it's a good idea, and well, it was!
She's now 4 and very loved, and her dads love each other very much as well. For a certain Sonic though, things won't go so great.
#sonic the hedgehog#sonadow#sonadow fankid#sonic oc#sth#sonic design#shadow the hedgehog#sonic#shadow#sonic au#my art#the art is kinda shitty bc i didnt wanna miss the train#feel free to ask any questions if ur curious abt any details this one is quite thought out#also they're married now :) they used matching earrings instead of wedding bands bc neither likes em#also i couldnt give less of a fuck about the shoes i Really wasnt in the mood so i halfassed it#gave up on shadow's completely ill design him new ones later
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@nuts-and-dolts-week - Day 8: Bonus Day!
For Bonus Day, with some inspiration from the FS discord, I gave myself a little challenge to create a story that somehow integrates every prompt for Nuts and Dolts Week! And this is the result!
This has been such a fun event to be a part of, and not only that, this is the first ship week I’ve ever completed! That may not be a huge accomplishment but I’m still super happy 🥰 Thank you to Bio for running this event and to everyone who created content for it, you’re all so talented and sensational!
You can read all my other NnD Week submissions on AO3, maybe kudo and comment if you are so inclined~ Hope you enjoy, thank you so much for reading!
Nuts and Dolts Week 2021 Stories - MusingsFromMars on AO3
Tomorrow they would graduate from Beacon, but tonight, they would have one more picnic in the Emerald Forest.
With a basket full of food and treats in the crook of her elbow, Ruby walked along with Penny down the familiar hillside trail, hiking into the forest towards what they had begun to call Their Spot. The sun at this point was almost set, bathing the partly cloudy sky with a bright orange hue. An evening picnic might have been unusual to most, but to the couple of soon-to-be huntresses, it was perfect.
Since this would be the last time they’d have a picnic like this together, they both went all-out with their preparations. Penny had dressed in her favorite white flowery dress and sun hat, and even had cute sparkly pink lip gloss, eyeliner, and green eyeshadow (all courtesy of Belladonna Cosmetic Services). Ruby had gone even more formal, wearing a white button-up, black suspenders and bow tie, and a red skirt. Weiss had remarked to her that this was a bit much for a picnic, but Ruby assured her that this was perfect for the occasion. Weiss couldn’t be blamed for not knowing all of her plans, after all. In fact, no one else knew what Ruby was planning for this evening.
Tucked securely in her shirt pocket was a small velvet drawstring pouch. Inside it was a ring, Penny’s ring. Ruby had made it herself. Even though her area of expertise was weapons crafting and not jewelry design, she was happy with how it turned out. She even felt confident that Penny would love it, too. Ruby had made it with her in mind, after all. And tonight would be the night that she would give it to Penny and ask her to marry her.
Ruby felt oddly calm about her plan right now. She had imagined herself being really nervous and unable to keep quiet about her plan for long, but now that they were on their way to the very spot she would propose, Ruby felt confident and at ease. Maybe that was the effect Penny had on her. Ruby always felt more comfortable whenever Penny was nearby. It was as if seeing her happy and safe was enough to put everything in perspective. How bad could a problem be if Penny were there for her?
Once they arrived at Their Spot, Penny unfurled the blanket she’d had tucked under her arm, spreading it out over the grass. From here, the thick treeline blocked out the setting sun, leaving them surrounded by soft shadows and gentle warm hues from the dusk sky.
This was all routine by this point. Penny would lay out the blanket, they’d both sit down and open the basket, and Ruby would start munching away at a sandwich while Penny made some tea (using a kettle, the water they packed, and her ability to hold anything in her hand and superheat it, of course). Penny enjoyed making tea this way because it made it easy to smell the complex aromas. While Penny’s tech advancements still didn’t allow her to taste, she at least had made a breakthrough and could now smell things, and tea was one of her favorites. “I am brewing lavender chamomile,” Penny said to Ruby. “It is the tea we had together the first time we had a picnic here.”
Ruby finished her bite of sandwich and smiled. “I love how you can remember little details like that.”
“I remember most everything,” Penny said. “Though our first picnic is certainly easy to recall. It was a lovely occasion.”
“Besides us starting a minor forest fire with Weiss’ electric kettle,” Ruby recounted with a laugh.
“And that is why we use this method now.” Penny nodded to the kettle, holding its underside. “It is much less dangerous.”
“Yeah, I shouldn’t be trusted around hot surfaces,” Ruby said with a giggle, then took another bite of sandwich. “Do you…” She began, but recalled her manners and swallowed her food before continuing. “Do you remember our first date?”
“Of course,” Penny said with a grin. “The one you essentially had to force me to go on.”
“I didn’t force you, did I?” Ruby asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I was certainly nervous about raising the ire of General Ironwood,” she recalled. “But I am quite thankful you did convince me to go to the arcade with you, even if the General was cross with me.”
“You got so many tickets!” Ruby remembered.
“The patterns and rhythms of those arcade machines were not very sophisticated. They were easily exploited for maximum payout.”
“I still have that big plush frog we got as a prize somewhere,” Ruby remembered. “What did we call him?”
“Mister Bumpy Butt.”
“Mister Bumpy Butt!” Ruby said with a grin. “Because he had—”
“—bumps on his butt!” Penny finished for her.
“I still say he should talk to his frog doctor about that,” Ruby joked.
“Indeed, butt bumps could be a sign of underlying illness.”
Ruby snorted and laughed, leaning over and lying her head on Penny’s shoulder. “Gods, we’re so weird.”
“Yes, but I enjoy being weird with you,” Penny replied, smiling as she leaned her cheek against the top of Ruby’s head.
“As do I,” Ruby agreed.
As Ruby took another bite of sandwich, Penny’s kettle began to whistle, and she retrieved two mugs from the basket. One mug already had a few sugar cubes sitting in the bottom. That was Ruby’s mug, of course. Penny filled both with hot tea and handed one to her. No matter what kind of tea it was, Ruby always had to drink it with sugar (much to Weiss’ and Blake’s horror). She took a careful sip and hummed happily. “Perfect as always, Penny.”
“Why thank you,” Penny beamed and set the empty kettle aside. She cradled her mug with both hands and enjoyed the smell of the tea as steam floated from the mug and into the air. She watched as Ruby sipped her tea, then asked, “Do you remember about a couple years before we met properly in Vale, you had accidentally met me when I was still in development at Atlas Academy?”
Ruby’s eyes went wide, and she had to make sure to swallow her tea lest she choke on it before answering, “I almost forgot all about that!”
Penny grinned and nodded. “You know, my father almost deleted that conversation from my memory for fear of ‘contamination,’ but then figured he had advanced my software far enough to the point that my interaction with you might be beneficial. And it turns out it was!”
“How so?” Ruby asked curiously, sipping her tea a bit more carefully.
“I think back to that meeting, and the way I remember it, from that day forward I had so much confidence when meeting new people. I admit, it took me a while to really understand that I might have been, well...forward with new acquaintances, but I think because you, the first ‘stranger’ I ever met, were so nice to me, it made me so optimistic about meeting new people.” She smiled at Ruby. “And that’s why I have so many friends now. All thanks to you.”
“Thanks to me and my insatiable curiosity,” Ruby added with a giggle. “But that’s honestly really sweet. I’m glad I ran into laptop you all those years ago.”
“That laptop was not the most aesthetically pleasing chassis to inhabit. I mean, I had very little physical self-awareness at that point, but looking back on it…”
“Yeah, you’re way sexier now,” Ruby joked.
“Precisely!” Penny agreed wholeheartedly, once again making Ruby laugh.
The sun had fully set by now, and stars began to dot the dark blue sky. The daytime warmth still lingered, but a gentle breeze began to slowly whisk it away.
“Ruby, look at me.”
Ruby blinked and looked her way, surprised by the suddenness of her request. “Huh?”
Penny only stared at her in the face, not offering an explanation. A few seconds later, she smiled and nodded. “Yep. Quite similar indeed.”
“What?” Ruby asked.
“Your eyes,” Penny said. “They look so similar to the moon when it is dark out.” She looked over Ruby’s shoulder. “But I have never gotten to make a side-by-side comparison until now.”
Ruby turned and looked the same way and saw the shattered moon. It had been just behind her head from Penny’s view. Ruby giggled and looked back at her girlfriend. “You’re so sweet.”
Penny smiled wide, her green eyes practically glowing with happiness.
“You know,” Ruby began, leaning a bit closer to Penny. “I don’t think I could compare your eyes to anything.”
Penny tilted her head to the side a bit. “Oh? How come?”
“I’ve never seen anything like them. They’re just so bright and shiny and green.”
Penny blinked, then her cheeks glowed a faint green. “You mean my eyes are incomparable?”
Ruby hadn’t realized her own romantic turn of phrase, but she smiled and nodded. “Yeah, exactly! There’s nothing in the world quite like your pretty eyes.”
Penny smiled, then leaned forward and kissed Ruby’s cheek. “You are so sweet.” Then her eyes went wide, noticing something else behind Ruby. “Oh, the fireflies!”
Ruby gasped and turned her head quickly, and sure enough, the night’s first lightning bugs were beginning to emerge, darting about and glowing. More and more appeared, blinking in a constant array of light like a visual symphony.
“It has been so long since we have seen so many,” Penny said with delight. “Oh, I am so happy they appeared tonight. You know it is almost as if they knew this was our last picnic here, because at this time of year their numbers typically begin to dwindle due to the changes in weather…”
Penny was once again infodumping about insects and Ruby’s heart swelled with a familiar adoration. She wanted to kiss her so bad, but that would mean interrupting Penny as she talked about the temperature preferences of flying bugs. She held off her desire to tackle her into the grass and pepper her face with kisses until later. In the meantime, she set her tea aside and propped her elbows on her knees, all while watching those aforementioned incomparable eyes as they followed the flights of nearby fireflies as she continued.
It wasn’t until a few minutes later that Penny’s voice began to trail away, and she turned to look at Ruby. “Oh, I have been talking for quite some time, huh?”
“Yeah, but I like listening to you talk about fireflies, Firefly,” Ruby said softly with a smile, still with her hands under her chin, still resting her elbows on her knees.
Penny chuckled bashfully. “They are just such fascinating creatures.”
“Hey Penny?”
“Hm?” Penny turned, her eyes meeting Ruby’s again. With the moon reflecting off her eyes, they almost seemed to shine.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” Penny smiled gently.
Ruby reached out and took Penny’s hand in hers, then took a moment to look around. “Uhm, here.” She got to her feet, still holding Penny’s hand. “This way.”
Penny stood and followed as Ruby led her off the picnic blanket and onto the grass. They walked through the grass a few steps, fireflies floating about them as if used to their presence. Ruby stopped and faced Penny.
Her heart was pounding in her chest, and despite the slowly falling temperatures outside, she was beginning to feel a little hot under her button-up. Here was the nervousness she expected to feel earlier, springing up just as she was about to do what this entire evening was leading to. She took a breath and fidgeted a bit with her bow tie.
“Are you okay?” Penny asked quietly, still holding one of Ruby’s hands.
“I’m...great,” Ruby said. It sounded like a lie, but it wasn’t. She felt anxious, sweaty, and absolutely fantastic all at once. “Penny, I… I have something to ask you. It’s important.”
Penny nodded, giving her her full attention.
Ruby took a breath and nodded. “Penny, when I told you that you are a real girl, I meant it. That day in that alleyway in Vale, I could see how unsure you were, how scared you were. And yet, when I assured you that you’re as real to me as I am to you, you believed me. I could definitely tell how happy that moment made you feel from how hard you hugged me, but...it made me happy, too. To know that I had said something to make you feel real…” Oh no, tears. Not now, tears. “And you believed me.”
Penny stepped a little closer and nodded. “Of course I believed you.”
Ruby smiled, but she willed herself to continue. “Then that day when I thought you were going back to Atlas. I was so scared because I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to see you again. I ran to find you, and I confessed to you right then and there that I loved you, that I couldn’t let you leave because I knew that you wanted to stay just as much as I wanted you to stay. And…” She was losing her fight against her tears, one escaping and running down her cheek as a smile grew on her face. “I said I love you. And...you believed me.”
“Of course I believed you,” Penny said again with a soft chuckle. She lifted her hand and gently wiped away Ruby’s tears. “I have loved you since the day we became friends.”
Ruby nodded and sniffed. “So have I.” She wiped at her own face, doing her best to compose herself. She wanted to get this moment exactly right. “And now we’re here tonight, for like the hundred-dozenth time. And…” She stared at Penny for a second, taking in a deep breath. She let it out slowly, then reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out the pouch. Penny’s eyes followed as Ruby loosened the drawstring, flipped the pouch over, and let a ring roll from the bag and into her hand. It was a shiny bronze color, with red and green gems embedded in a zigzag configuration all around the circumference. Ruby pocketed the pouch and held the ring between her thumb and index finger. She looked up at Penny and saw her eyes were wide, as if she were slowly beginning to understand.
“Ruby…?”
“And now I’m asking you to marry me,” Ruby said, chuckling with a grin. “Can you believe that?”
“Ruby…” Penny covered her mouth with her hand.
Ruby got down on one knee, holding the ring up to her. Her nerves were gone, replaced only with a blooming joy in her chest. She will never forget the look on Penny’s face at this very moment. “Penny, will you marry me?”
Penny proceeded to tackle hug her to the ground. Ruby grunted and laughed as her back hit the grass. “Yes!” Penny lied on top of Ruby and smiled down at her. “Yes, I will marry you, Ruby!” She kissed her, and Ruby hummed softly and wrapped her arms around Penny’s neck, deepening the kiss. Her nerves were a distant memory now. Now she felt like she was floating just like the fireflies around them, with the love of her life in her arms.
After their kiss, they both found their way back to their feet. Ruby was glad to have held tight to the ring both during and after getting tackled, and she smiled at Penny as she took her hand. “Well then,” she slipped the ring onto her, a perfect fit. “Just call me fiancée.”
Penny grinned and hugged her again, not tackling her but still squeezing tight. “I love you.”
Ruby hugged her back, happily sinking deeper into the embrace. “I love you too,” she whispered.
After reveling in this embrace for a while longer, Ruby opened her eyes and looked up, seeing the Beacon tower in the distance. In a lot of ways, this place had changed her life. She had fulfilled her dream of becoming a huntress and had made friends that she’d forever consider family. But at this very moment, she felt the most thankful for having met Penny. If coming to Beacon had changed her life, then meeting Penny was what made it brighter. She would never forget the years she spent here, but when it came to her and Penny, they had countless more memories to make in the future, together as real girls, as wives.
#rwby#nuts and dolts week 2021#nuts and dolts week#nuts and dolts#fanfic update#ruby rose#penny polendina
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Not much time passed since their joint exploration of Tam-Tara Deepcroft, but to Arianna it felt like eternity. And like a moment, at the same time. Too long. Too short. Perhaps time was playing tricks on her, or perhaps it was all in her head.
Watching her sister make miracles with that grimoire of hers was indeed astonishing - through her time away from Eorzea, Seawalker had turned into an actual adventurer who could predict her opponents' moves and always be one step ahead of them. Good for her, sure. But everything that had happened later... Arianna only heard stories. Rumours about the Lord of the Inferno risen from the flames to answer the prayers of his worshippers. She had not been there, not seen the woman called Helvi Seawalker slay the alleged god of Amal'jaa, so when they had reunited, all she could do was look closely at the new godslayer in search for any proof. Any sign. Any change.
She had found no such thing.
Except... When asked about adventuring, Seawalker had given her a confused look. "There are more than one way to make people's lives better," she'd said, "Why should I stick to one, if I can do more?"
On what 'more' was, she had not elaborated.
-
Today, though, was almost like old times. The two spent a lovely morning at the household of Swiftfingers' parents, exchanging gossip over the plate of almond cream delicious croissants - albeit Master Zezemuchi's tale about Arianna's involvement with the Sunsilk Tapestries might have been a tad embellished. And even though the third sister wasn't there anymore, in a way she still was - in spirit and fond memories - so the Thanalan Tinies could reunite one more time...
And somewhere along the way from the Steps of Nald to the Sapphire Avenue, it got so easy to believe Seawalker had never left. She stormed the market, ransacking the jewellery and metallurgy stalls for high quality materials and chatting with the merchants about the craftwork she had seen overseas. It was fun - and relieving - to see her that happy and giddy about her old trade.
It was no fun, though, to see her go completely broke.
"You know, it wouldn't do you any harm if you haggled a little," Arianna shook her head, "Those people ain't dependent solely on you and won't get famished if you don't overpay them".
But the Roegadyn didn't take her words to heart, deeply convinced the merchants of Ul'dah deserve all her gil. She approached Arianna with a wide grin and a different earring in each hand. "Truly, you are an Immortal Flame," she said fondly, "Bright. Undying. We need to think of a fine set of jewellery that would fit your uniform".
"We need, you say as if you're going to consider my opinion," the Duskwight snorted, "Good to see you back in your element, though. Now that you've rejoined the Goldsmiths' Guild, are you planning to stay in Ul'dah? Or go back to Mist, so your aunt can keep her eyes on you?"
"Neither my aunt, nor the glorious sea can keep me far from my Rinoire and the memories of Zezelyn," her sister laughed and spread her arms, as if she wanted to embrace the whole city, "Not that I haven't got any other options since the Grand Companies invited me to join them, so if I ever change my mind, I-"
Right. That was the other thing Arianna heard about recently. Not a rumour, but a true story confirmed by General Aldynn himself. If it wasn't for the reverence she had for him, he would have been given a piece of her mind and not in a kind way.
"Bloody hells, Seawalker, don't tell me you're considering it. You're no soldier." There was no ill will in these words, just the truth - not because she lacked the required skills, but because she did things in her own pace, which did not go well with taking orders. Not to mention her calling was making things, rather than killing people.
"I know, I know. Which is why I kindly told them to sod off".
"No, you didn't".
"No, I didn't. I gave them my thanks and expressed my concern it would spread discord between them," Seawalker kept smiling playfully, as she continued investigating the jewels and metals in a truly scientific manner.
"Nice try, but they ain't gonna stop asking," Arianna followed her, still concerned, "Unless the Scions claim exclusive rights for you".
"They haven't yet, but it is another good reason to stay in Ul'dah. In case they're in need of me, I won't be far".
"In need of you to do what?" the lancer clenched her fists, ready to defend her sister from the selfsame people who had sent her after Ifrit, "Craft a set of rings or slay another god?"
"Gods cannot be slain so easily. Not for good," the Roegadyn shrugged, giving a vibe of someone who knows everything about the topic, "And we- they suspect that other beast tribes might follow, that someone's been steering them from the shadow-"
"Rhalgr take them and all their suspicions," Arianna could not help but growl, already fed up with this conversation and unable to argue with that consummate do-gooder, "Why did it have to be you?!"
"And why did you stand at Carteneau?"
One question, one simple question made Arianna stifle a gasp. "That wasn't- That-" she stumbled and gritted her teeth. That was just another war, she was meaning to say, with no supernatural factors involved. But she could not utter a lie. There was Dalamud, after all. There was that bloody primal dragon.
Still, she could not contain a surge of anger. Who were they - those Scions or Archons, or whatever they called themselves - to bug her sister about problems too big for her and order her around? What if they were the ones who would turn her into a soldier? And right after her return to Eorzea, before she could even settle down?
"The thing is, I had a choice," she said finally and that was it, that was the whole point of her concern, "Did you?"
"How could I choose to turn my back on them?" the Roegadyn cried out, her voice both sad and irritated. Perhaps mostly sad. "Rinoire, you should see what a primal can do to people - not only to their worshippers, but to anyone around. Those people are... changed. Their minds, twisted forever... There's no way to reverse it, but there's a way to resist it I'm capable of".
"And you ain't the only one, right? Are they looking for more 'venturers with the sixth sense like yours? Or will they just- I don't know, turn you into a one-woman army and say that's enough?!"
The look Seawalker gave her was rueful but determined. The look of someone who cannot stand being useless and tries desperately to change it. As if she didn't know how much good she can to for the world without throwing herself into fight.
She leaned to whisper into Arianna's ear. "Let me tell you a secret," her voice was soft and gentle, easy to soothe anyone's anger. Perhaps even tame a primal.
But it could not fool Flame Sergeant Noirterel, who knew that precious, incorrigible woman all too well. "Oh yeah? Shoot".
"The stall behind you has some fine Nagxian silk".
"WHAT?!" Every concerned thought vanished from the Duskwight's head in an instant, when she turned around and rushed up to the stall in question, to get all the silk she could afford at the moment. On behalf of the Weavers' Guild, obviously; she would not buy any fabrics without showing them the bill.
-
"That- that wasn't fair," she said after what felt like a year, glaring at one overjoyed goldsmith, who was carrying two large bags of some suspicious stuff that might have been meant for crafting. She laughed triumphantly and said nothing.
"What are all those materials for? Got that many commissions already?" Arianna asked, intent on giving up on the previous conversation. That was not a topic for a shopping day, not when it could be deflected and forgotten way too easily.
"No, no, don't worry, no one's commissioned me yet," Seawalker said absent-mindedly, "With these, I'm going to craft fine gifts. A magic staff, maybe. A set of knuckles. Goggles that don't cover half of one's pretty face," she went on, completely preoccupied, "Perhaps a gemmed paperweight for Minfilia..."
Ah, those people again. Lovely. Perhaps she did not get along with them as well as she tried to show, if she wanted to bribe them with gifts.
"Finding the right design for Y'shtola is going to be the hardest task," she heaved a somewhat exaggerated sigh, "Something that complements her beauty and doesn't look too showy..."
Arianna sighed too, utterly defeated. "Just pick whatever and set it in a ring. It won't distract you from her face if it's on her finger."
"So it would seem like a bonding proposal? Perish the thought, I would not dare!" Seawalker shook her head, rocking back and forth on heels, "But you, dear sister! Jewellery for you will be no problem, as soon as I get the perfect gemstones I've got in mind!"
"If you say pink tourmalines, I swear I'll-"
"What? Why would I?" this time Seawalker seemed genuinely confused, "I was thinking star sapphires or maybe diamonds."
"The less expensive one. Or else you'll be broke in no time."
The Roegadyn pouted, clearly discontented with the companionship of an ignoramus who does not understand true art. However, her mood changed in a blink, when a new thought popped into her scattered mind.
"It sure would be nice to find some eyes of lightning, though," she flashed an impish grin, "They look almost pink in the right light, so if you wish-"
"No!"
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SOLO THREAD
Locale: Sam’s apartment / Oceanside Cemetery
Mentioned: @fireinhislungs, @gracetaylorwilliams, @jessexmarino, @naomixjones
Dinner with her father went off with only a few conversational lulls, far less awkward than anticipated and yet not completely fluid. Like two people rowing a canoe at different speeds, both attempting to turn it in the same direction without being fully in sync. It would come with time Sam supposed and as she began cleaning dishes, bright hues caught sight of her father throwing a cursory examination of the window latches before shifting attention to the folded sweater on her couch. “Are you holding that for somebody?”
It took everything in her not to snort. “Real subtle... It doesn’t belong to some secret lover if that’s what you’re getting at.”
His chagrin at being caught was palpable enough to soften Sam’s raised brow, almost lingering on the edge of amused before he continued. “I worry about you living in this place alone, Samantha. No roommate, no boyfriend, or... girlfriend?” The blonde visibly winced then, hands resuming the task at hand to avoid discussing something so personal with a person she truly didn’t know well at all. Her father, still a near stranger. “Look, take it from me that too much alone time drives you a little nuts and it’s probably safer in numbers around here.”
The audacity to gently lecture as if his brand of advice mattered in the grand scheme when he never deemed it necessary until now. A measured swallow and breath came before she pivoted features to address him in a way that wouldn’t entirely nuke their still rather tepid relationship. The pair lingered a hair away from disaster and the only indication she managed to give was a firm warning. “Dad, I know what you’re trying to say, but I can take care of myself. I’m doing just fine and you’re forgetting that I literally lived here at one point.” With him and her mother, ironically enough. Apparently Oceanside had been worth settling in during her formative years, but once she could choose for herself it no longer suited the narrative.
“You always did have your mother’s stubbornness.” That, at least, managed to ring true and she might have been able to ignore that comment with a scoff or quick humor picked up from his side, but her father always prodded the right button. “I’m trying to keep you safe, okay?” Definitely a hothead like her abrasive mother because the knife she’d been wiping down tightened within Sam’s slender grasp. Hell of a time to start giving a shit, but she digressed. “Because Oceanside isn’t how you remember it and ignoring that fact’s gonna get you hurt if you don’t pay attention... I understand if it brings you comfort being here, but it’s not the same.”
The sharp utensil she had been cleaning finally clattered against metal as it hit the base of her sink, dropped in frustration because it wasn’t his business. None of it. He surrendered that right when the ink dried on her custody papers; parental claim relinquished unequivocally. “I’m not blind. I can fucking see that it’s worse and I’m not walking around the city with rose colored glasses.” Quite the opposite, suffocating every blossom of nostalgia before it could spring out of the dirt... Or ash, depending upon how one looked at it. “The whole me getting poisoned thing shot that down right out of the gate, but I’m not just–– I’m not giving up on this and lots of people I care about live here.” She swallowed against the vulnerability, choking it down like a bad tequila shot. “Which means there’s something worth sticking around for, so if you’re trying to talk me out of it then go ahead and call up Fletcher. Let him tell you how well that worked out the last time somebody tried.”
“Take it easy,” he cautioned with infuriating ease against her rising temper. “I’m only trying to look out for your best interest. If something happened to you, I wouldn’t forgive myself.” The chuckle she gave in response lacked both humor and warmth, practically bewildered at his entire savior complex... And bitter, so unfathomably jaded at this ill conceived timing. Too little, too late. “Yeah, well, you’ve been asleep on the job for twenty-eight years so it’s convenient that you woke up to do it now.”
That must have cut deep because her father maneuvered out of the kitchen doorway, hands raised defensively as if she were still holding the knife. It sort of felt like that, but her tongue became the barb instead. Stabbing repeatedly when he hardly deserved it, angered more at unseen and unresolved forces. “I know I wasn’t always as involved as I could have been, but I did raise you––”
“You didn’t raise me, you avoided me because it was easier to spend time at the casino than come home to the life you picked out. And before you start accusing me of favoritism, Mom didn’t do shit either. You want to talk about romanticizing the past? Take a look in the fucking mirror.” Fists clenched against her side were blanched white at the knuckles, three decades of resentment spilling out in verbal blows that Sam knew she couldn’t take back. Nor did she want to, not tonight. “The Williams raised me. And when they were gone, I raised myself and I did a damn good job at it.”
Some part of her would regret this moment later when his features came to mind, the shame and clear heartbreak written across them undeniable. “I didn’t realize that’s how you felt.” They had backed up fully into her living room, or perhaps she simply cornered her father with truthful criticisms when he’d only wanted to help. So much for repairing their relationship. “Yeah, well... I ruined your lives so I guess it’s only fitting that you ruined mine.” Arms crossed protectively over her middle, both avoiding one another’s gaze out of mutual hurt and then she heard the door unlock.
“I wish you hadn’t come back here, Samantha.”
While sounding bad on the surface, she knew full well it was meant as a last olive branch and proof that he loved her despite the vitriol, but Sam’s throat had tightened too far to respond. He slipped out into the evening air and despite how she wished to move, or scream, or burst into a thousand shards to match her internal schism, both feet remained firmly planted for several minutes.
Then she darted across to her purse, snatching it up along with the sweater draped along the back of her sofa. No phone, she didn’t need to talk anymore. At least no one listed in there.
–––––
One bottle of some cheap rosé from the grocery store later and she was back on the road, navigating some vaguely familiar route down the coast. GPS wound up becoming necessary at some point much to her embarrassment, but twelve years away wasn’t nothing and darkness made fools of everyone. Her car pulled into the cemetery parking lot and for a minute she simply sat with the engine idled, replaying pieces of their conversation in her mind. Not just with her father, but Fletcher, Grace, Jesse, Naomi... People who existed in her former life that now began slotting into this new, convoluted one.
The gate’s lock was either open already or rusted by the sea air, but it hardly mattered because Sam entered without much barrier. Weaving through headstones, she discovered that the path to her destination sprouted from memory which was altered by nighttime shadows and the fickle mistress of time. After getting turned around once, she eventually made it and settled into a small plot of grass, unscrewing the lid of her bottle and toasting in mock cheers to her company.
In Loving Memory of Brooke Williams
The sight alone was enough to tighten something imperceptible within her chest, washed away by the peachy drink and a half-hearted joke. “Sorry for sitting on you, but that should be nothing new. Kick me off if you hate it.” Talking to a ghost as if the long deceased girl were able to hear felt stupid on about three hundred levels, but Sam hadn’t been granted the privilege of catching up for so long. And after arguing with her parent, she just needed her best friend and other half.
“I think that maybe... everything in my life is temporary now,” she admitted to the silence. “And sometimes I can even convince myself that I’m okay with it. Never attaching myself to anybody or anything.” Mostly through her own design, sabotaging any concept of permanence before it, too, could be ripped away without warning. A self preservation measure concocted when she was far too young; no kid should delve so far into their own fear that they only knew how to run. “Except here. I feel like I keep circling back to this place and these people... And you. Always you.” For someone who only an hour previous claimed to raise herself, she truly did an immaculate job at creating an adult who wound up successful, capable, and so unbearably alone.
Maybe she should have called Fletcher instead, the thought interjected itself and became quickly dismissed. Hadn’t enough trouble been thrust upon his shoulders? And Grace’s? Stripped of their entire family in the course of a single night, tossed into a system which spat them back out, and molded to fit a world that clearly didn’t give a shit. The last thing either one needed was a reminder walking back through their door, but she had with such unfathomable selfishness. Perhaps guilt brewed in the pit of her stomach over how she treated her father tonight or that continuous fear of making the wrong move, but uncertainty brought the rim to parted lips once more.
“I’m not sure what I’m doing anymore, B.” It was easier to draw honesty from her bones out here, less like pulling water from a stone with only a bottle and the faint ocean breeze answering back. Rather than eerie or unsettling, the dim light provided a quiet comfort of remaining unseen in the midst of such raw admittance. “I don’t think I belong in this city like I used to, but I’m scared––” There was that thickness in the far reaches of her throat again. “I’m afraid that if I don’t belong in Oceanside then I don’t really belong anywhere. So what the hell do I do?”
She had belonged once, in a flickering memory of happiness that remained pure despite life’s valiant attempts to extinguish it. Friendship bracelets with her name misspelled on accident. Brooke telling Fletcher he could only join their pillow fort if he killed the spider inside. Grace’s laughter from beneath the hood of an old car as she threw a grease laden rag at Mr. Williams. They were supposed to grow old together, buy houses on the same street, live out impossibly normal lives. So beautifully mundane in their cookie cutter regularity. Even after the worst overtook them, she had been naïve enough to believe in some echo of that future; a broken shell, but enough to keep her head above water.
In that alternate time, Grace taught her to drive manual and took Sam to get her license, the pair bonding in a way that she only dreamed of as a child who idolized the eldest Williams beyond words. She would have thanked the brunette for being the only stable adult in her life and the only one worth counting on. In that alternate timeline, she got Fletcher trashed on his twenty-first birthday and sat on the bathroom floor with him all night in apology. She would have told him the truth at some point, even if he didn’t reciprocate. So many what if’s that were robbed before they even began and now she grasped at smoke, unable to hold it between desperate fingers. Why couldn’t she just let things go like a well adjusted person? Why did she leave claw marks etched into every memory?
More wine, but this time it tasted distinctly of saltwater as the wind brushed over damp cheeks.
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The next piece of the POTC AU is here -- and with it, the Revenge’s return to Isle de Muerta, the breaking of the curse, and ...what’s this? A new player in this drama?
Pictured above are Carewyn’s villainous relatives, the Cromwells -- Blaise (green), Pearl (red), Claire (gold), and of course the GodGrandfather himself, Captain Charles Cromwell (lime). If you’d like to learn more about their canon R-member versions, including what fancasts inspired these characters’ designs, you can find that here! I’ll make it clear right now that none of these characters, in any version of Carewyn’s canon, would ever be considered good people -- but maybe after this section and the next one, you’ll get to know them all a bit better and see some of the grayer wrinkles to at least three out of these four.
The song “Saucy Sailor” (or alternatively “Saucy Sailor Boy” or “Saucy Sailor Lad”), like “A Maid in Bedlam,” was first developed in the 18th century, but has since had its words and overall sound changed a LOT over time. The lyrics I’m using are from a more modern variation, which I put in the link to, simply because I prefer the flow of the words. The sentiment is nearly identical to the original, older lyrics, though. ^.^
Previous part for this AU is here -- full tag is here -- and, once again, Jules Farrier belongs to ma chere @cursebreakerfarrier! xoxo
x~x~x~x
It was a very long morning locked in the brig of the Revenge. Carewyn found herself singing more, just to keep her mind occupied -- it was something she and Jacob had done a lot when they were kids too. Even their mother, when she still alive, used to sing with them. It was one of the few things that could bring them joy on board the red-stained pirate ship, as even if Charles was very controlling, he found it mildly entertaining. The rest of the crew often ended up being in a better mood whenever they’d sing too -- like all of the sailors Carewyn had encountered in the Navy, they’d seemed to think that a song could make the work day go faster.
“‘Come, me own one; come, me fair one;
Come now unto me --
Could you fancy a poor sailor lad who has just come from sea?’
‘You are ragged, love, and you’re dirty, love,
And your clothes smell much of tar,
So be gone, you saucy sailor lad! So be gone, you Jack Tar!’
‘If I am ragged, love, and I’m dirty, love,
And me clothes smell much of tar,
I have silver in me pocket, love, and gold in great store.’
And then when she heard him say so,
On her bended knee she fell --
‘I will marry my dear Henry, for I love a sailor lad so well!’”
“Ah -- I thought that little ditty sounded familiar.”
Carewyn stopped immediately and looked up.
Through the bars of the cell, she could see the frame of Charles Cromwell’s only son and First Mate, her uncle, Blaise. His almond-shaped blue eyes -- identical to all of his siblings, Charles’s and Carewyn’s -- were narrowed slightly, and his arms were crossed over his chest.
“I seem to recall that was Jacob’s favorite when he was alive, was it not?” said Blaise rather drolly.
Carewyn’s eyes narrowed coldly and didn’t respond.
Blaise uncrossed his arms, strolling over so as to prop one of his arms against the wooden bars so as to better look down at his niece.
“Little word of advice,” he whispered coolly, “you might want to tone it down a bit. The Revenge’s crew has not much liked singing these last fifteen years -- especially Pearl.”
“Since we left?” Carewyn said, and she couldn’t fight back a humorless laugh. “Should I be touched by that, that you all lost that last piece of humanity you still had, because Jacob and I did the one thing you’ve never been able to do?”
Blaise lashed his arm out violently at the bars, making Carewyn flinch despite herself, but she kept her glare firm.
“You forget our curse, little Winnie,” the First Mate murmured, and his blue eyes darkened noticeably. “No earthly pleasure can reach us, so long as one medallion is parted from that chest and the blood is not repaid. All food becomes ash in our mouths. No drink can satisfy. All carnal pleasures make us ill, with no cure...”
Something flickered in the back of his eyes.
“...Even music...the one thing that always brought your mother back to our minds...sounds like a death’s rattle.”
Carewyn’s glare faltered slightly, losing some of its edge. Blaise’s eyes drifted over her face for a moment. His brimmed black hat cast a shadow over the top of his face that obscured his expression somewhat, but it was definitely less arrogant than when he’d first arrived.
“You don’t resemble her much at all,” he murmured, almost lamenting the fact. “Neither you nor Jacob...ever resembled her much.”
Carewyn crossed her arms, her legs folded in front of her on the floor.
“We resembled her in the way that mattered,” she said quietly, “knowing that we deserve to live free, not stuck in a cage.”
Blaise gave a short, harsh sigh, throwing up a hand in aggravation.
“Must you bite my hand off when I’m trying to show you sincere sentiment?” he asked in a tired, condescending type of passive-aggressiveness that made him sound all the more like Charles. “I am your uncle, little Winnie.”
“I wasn’t biting your hand off,” said Carewyn, and her voice echoed with a bit of edge in return. “I’ve never understood why you, Claire, and Pearl stayed. Mum used to say you were so ambitious, when you were a kid -- that you wanted your own fleet and an entire island all to yourself. She said Claire was happier than she’d ever been in her life living on Shipwreck Cove, when she was too pregnant to sail. She said Pearl wanted to be captain of the Revenge herself someday, after Grandfather retired and you got your own ship. But not one of you ever chased any of that -- instead you just march lock-step with Grandfather like none of your dreams ever mattered -- ”
“I will not have a Navy brat chastise me for ‘marching lock-step,’”spat Blaise.
Carewyn got to her feet and got up right next to the bars so as to better glare into her uncle’s face.
“I may be a so-called ‘Navy brat,’ but I still have a heart and a soul that are mine. And the East India Trading Company couldn’t buy those with all the coin on earth. You, though? You gave up everything you ever wanted and are, for nothing at all. You gave it up without even fighting for it.”
Blaise stared Carewyn down for a very long moment, his glare rippling with resentment.
“...Nothing...yes. I suppose that is what I’ve received, through this venture. We found the treasure of Cortes -- a chest worthy of a king -- and yet the wealth we accrued through selling it could not replace the humanity we lost...nor the family. Not Lane...not my sweet Marianne...”
Carewyn’s eyebrows furrowed. She’d barely known Blaise’s wife, since he’d been very newly married when she’d left and her pregnancy ensured her place in Shipwreck Cove, away from Charles’s ship. All Carewyn and Jacob had really gathered was that the woman had gotten swept up in Blaise’s good looks more than any particular charm on his part -- if nothing else, then because Blaise, as well as the rest of the Cromwells, were the furthest thing from charming imaginable.
Blaise’s smile twitched with a completely humorless smile. “Did you not wonder why I have no sons or daughters on board, while Claire and Pearl’s children run wild?”
The unpleasant smile vanished instantly.
“I first saw what I’d become while visiting Shipwreck Cove to spend a night with Marianne. I’d been feeling so out of sorts, with nothing tasting right and my thirst never being quenched, and I’d so looked forward to holding her in my arms again. But when she saw me, bathed in the moonlight...she ran from me. I begged for her to stay. I grabbed her, tried to hold her down and explain...she ripped herself out of my arms...and in her panic lost her footing and fell down the stairs.”
Carewyn’s heart clenched.
“She was alive,” Blaise said in response to the concern that rippled over the Commodore’s face. “But only just. The injury made her miscarry, of course, but she’d also hurt herself beyond repair. She was never able to leave her bed again. And knowing what I was...my Marianne grew cold. Didn’t wish to see me. I broke down her door more than once, trying to force her to come with me, so I could take her somewhere more comfortable with better medicine, where it could just be her and me, but she said she was in too much pain to move. It was then...that she first asked me to kill her.”
Carewyn’s lips came together tightly. Blaise’s eyes had drifted away from her and now bore into the wall of the brig.
“My Marianne asked me to kill her multiple times -- but I refused. She was my wife. She was mine, mine alone...I was not going to let anyone take her from me, not even Death himself.”
The possessive attitude again reminded Carewyn unpleasantly of Charles.
“But...as the years went by...as I returned time and again, her presence gave me no pleasure, and mine...repulsed her. I didn’t need pleasure, of course -- only her. Even if we could have none of the children we wanted while I was cursed, that could come later. She could wait for me. Even if she could not leave her bed...at least that way, she could never leave me...”
“You’re disgusting,” Carewyn spat.
Blaise didn’t seem to hear her -- he was too lost in his own memories.
“At least...so I thought. But in the end...she did leave me. After I’d vowed never to let anyone take her from me...she took herself away...by poisoning herself.”
Carewyn’s eyes narrowed grimly, but couldn’t reply.
“So in the end...I truly do have nothing. No wife, to love me forever and a day. No child of my own, to mold the way I see fit. No member of my family who has ever shown me any genuine love or kindness...that isn’t now in an afterlife that I will never reach. Pearl has her husband and sons, and Claire has her family...but I...I have nothing.”
Blaise’s voice was never choked and his face never showed outward grief, but there was a bizarre, isolating gloom swirling around him.
Carewyn’s eyes were still narrowed as she studied him. Then, after a moment, she reached a hand through the bars and took hold of the sleeve of his dark red coat.
“...I’m sorry,” she said solemnly.
They weren’t the right words, for she really didn’t feel remorse or regret for Blaise’s sake, but they were the only ones she could think of to express any shred of sympathy.
‘As despicable as you are, and however much you brought a lot of this on yourself...it’s not something I can take pleasure in.’
Blaise looked down at her hand, and then up at her face, his expression appearing wounded and almost confused. Then he roughly pulled himself out of her hold, his expression contorted in disgust -- as if he didn’t know what to do with basic human compassion.
“And here I thought you’d toughened yourself up, in the last fifteen years,” he said, his voice again dripping with condescension and scorn.
Carewyn’s gaze hardened, but Blaise didn’t seem to care.
“No matter,” he said, his voice a low growl in the back of his throat as his eyes bore into the upper corner of the brig. “Things are going to change, once the curse is broken. I may have nothing now, but mark my words...I’ll have everything soon enough.”
The vengeful tone of his voice made Carewyn ask suspiciously, ”What are you planning to do?”
Blaise’s lips spread into a smirk, but did not answer. He turned his back and Carewyn and started to walk out of the brig. On his way out, he paused, his hand absently resting on his scabbard as he looked over his shoulder at her, his blue eyes twinkling with malice.
“When the curse is lifted, little Winnie...you’ll be singing quite a lot for me.”
And with that, he left up the stairs back toward the main deck.
Meanwhile the Artemis was making very good time. The Revenge was a very fast ship, but sure enough, any outside observer watching the ships’ trajectories from the air would’ve seen the Artemis was shortening the distance between it and the Revenge rapidly. Even McNully hypothesized as much.
“According to my calculations,” said McNully as he addressed the crew early that morning, “the Revenge travels about 7 knots, normally -- well above any of the Navy’s fastest ships -- and they had a half-day’s head start. But the Artemis is a schooner. We may be a lot smaller than a galleon like the Revenge, but we’re built for speed, so we’ve made it to 8 knots consistently since we started. And since we presumably don’t have as much loot weighing us down as the ship that can only make berth in one place and Orion dealt with our mermaid problem, meaning we didn’t need to slow down while traveling through their waters the way the Revenge no doubt would’ve...and most importantly, Charles Cromwell has no reason to think anyone’s following him...I reckon there’s a 96.5% chance that we catch up with them tonight.”
Knowing that soon they’d be catching up to a whole ship full of pirates, Bill and Charlie spent the rest of the day training Jules in sword combat on the main deck. Jules had asked Bill to teach her some moves earlier in the voyage and had soon proven quite capable with a blade -- though Charlie had teased that it was because Bill had been going easy on her, even he had to admit Jules was a fast learner. At one point Skye even jumped in to show Jules, Charlie, and Bill how to do the “Pincer,” a move she’d developed where three people “hem” in their opponent little by little until they can reach in close enough to trap the person’s neck between all three of their blades crossed in a triangle shape. McNully also got in on the action by talking her through fighting with a sword while in the ship’s rigging.
“Very good!” said McNully, as he supervised Skye and Jules fighting each other in the rigging that afternoon. “Try to attack your opponent’s stance every-so-often, that’ll improve your odds of victory by a good 26%!”
Orion strolled down from the helm to get a better look, his arms crossed over his chest as he came to a stop between Charlie and McNully.
“A clever strategy as always, McNully,” the captain said levelly.
McNully grinned. “Thanks! Though it being done by a woman always helps. I’d say a good 89% of all men on the high seas fear nothing more than a woman who could kill them.”
“I reckon Bill’s in that remaining eleven,” said Charlie amusedly.
The three men glanced at Bill. His gaze was locked on Jules up in the rigging and his lips were spread in a full, admiring smile.
“There admittedly is also a good two percent of men who love the idea of a woman who could kill them,” said McNully amusedly.
He nudged Orion in the side with his elbow, and the Captain actually bowed his head and grinned from ear to ear, showing white teeth.
It didn’t take long for Carewyn to figure out what Blaise was planning. She’d stopped singing, not to placate her uncle, but so as to listen, and soon she could hear the whispers. The unhappy mutterings from Pearl’s son, from Claire’s husband, son, and three daughters. Some about how much more controlling Charles had gotten in his old age. Some about how their plunder on the Isle de Muerta was still in a giant pile and had still not been parsed out evenly between the crew. Some about how much they hated being cursed, speaking longingly of drinking an entire bottle of liquor or eating a bushel of apples or screwing every woman they laid eyes on, once their humanity was restored...blaming Charles’s expedition to Isle de Muerta for their fifteen years of misery.
It all added up to one thing in Carewyn’s mind. As soon as the curse was lifted and Charles was mortal again, Blaise was planning to spark a mutiny.
From what she could deduce, the only people who didn’t know were Pearl, Claire, and Charles himself, and Carewyn thought she could guess why. Pearl had treated Jacob and Carewyn with the most active hostility after Lane and her husband tried to escape with them: she was furious by their attempt at desertion, and Carewyn figured mutiny wouldn’t be something she’d support much either. And Claire had always been the “follower” out of her relatives to whomever was the most powerful, in this case, Charles: she would’ve been far too much of a liability to have in the loop until after the mutiny was complete, at which point she’d probably fall into line.
It was sort of sad, Carewyn thought. The Cromwells had always claimed to be a family -- but there truly wasn’t an ounce of love or trust anywhere to found in them. It made her miss Bill, Charlie, and Percy all the more.
The Revenge docked in Isle de Muerta late that afternoon. Part of that time was spent unloading the loot they’d collected into the cave -- there was quite a large store of it. Considering that pirates usually spent anything they stole right away rather than saving it -- and, more specifically, that her family had always done that before, when she was a kid -- Carewyn supposed that even enjoying the gold and riches they’d collected fell under the umbrella of “earthly pleasure” the Revenge’s crew couldn’t enjoy.
It was as the sun began to set that Carewyn heard the sounds above deck starting to quiet. She peeked out the magic-patched hole in her cell -- because they’d docked, they were in shallower water, and she could see a large swath of dark red heading into a large cave, lit torches held aloft. Among the landing party were Pearl, Claire, and Blaise, and at its head, Carewyn could just barely spot the one lone red hat that belonged to Charles.
‘Five, six...nine,’ Carewyn thought. ‘They’ve left two people aboard. Probably Claire and Pearl’s husbands.’
She could hear raucous laughter from the room below deck, just above the brig.
“Another win for me, then!” said a rather muffled, raspy sort of voice.
“Aye, but can you do it again?” challenged another much more boorish voice. “Let’s have another go at the dice, then!”
Carewyn could hear a rattling sound and then two loud thunks on the table overhead.
‘They’re playing Liar’s Dice,’ she surmised.
“I s’pose ‘Captain Blaise’ and his new mate would be more open to it than old Charles,” said the raspy voice smugly, “but I don’t reckon your biddy would be too happy about it...”
“Look, I’m just saying, I haven’t had a good lay in fifteen years,” said the boorish voice, “I’m sure Claire won’t put up too much of a fuss if I borrow ‘er for a bit, on the side -- it’s not like I can sleep with my own daughters -- ”
More raucous laughter followed. Carewyn cringed, but she quickly put his words out of her mind and got right down to business.
There were now only two people on the Revenge -- sure, they were currently undead, but they wouldn’t be much longer, and they were distracted. This might be the only chance she had, to get the upper hand. And so the Commodore got to work plotting her jail break.
Since she’d been changed out of her Navy uniform against her will, Carewyn didn’t have any hat pins she could turn into a lockpick, but fortunately the dark red jacket she’d been forced into did have thin metal clasps for its buttons instead of holes, even if it was too small for her to button the jacket around herself properly. After some work, she managed to rip one of the entire fastenings and twist the clasp into a flatter wire that she could stick into the keyhole of her cell door.
Within fifteen minutes, there was a click, and she very, very carefully inched the cell door open and sneaked out up the stairs, right past the room the two pirates were playing Liar’s Dice, and up onto the deck.
‘I can’t move against those two until I know for sure the curse is broken,’ thought Carewyn. ‘So I’ll have to bide my time, at least for a short while...’
She glanced around before her eyes settled on the door to Charles’s cabin, just below the helm. She swept over, trying the handle -- upon finding it locked, she took her new lockpick back out and, within two more minutes, had opened it.
Charles’s cabin was much more opulently decorated than Orion’s cabin, with fiery red Persian rugs, black silk curtains, and gold-trimmed mahogany future. Carewyn also noted with some scorn that her grandfather did, in fact, have a pair of ridiculously voluptuous, naked woman carved into his headboard. Fortunately it also held a store of weapons -- so Carewyn stole a cutlass, a pistol, a couple of grenades, and some spare bullets and powder, just to be safe. She’d just been securing the sword’s scabbard when she heard a raucous cheering from below deck.
“AYE! AYYYYYE, YEAAAAAH!”
The two pirates sounded elated beyond reason -- almost gleeful.
‘The curse has been broken!’ thought Carewyn.
She charged out of Charles’s cabin, ready to seize her chance -- but when she made it out on deck, she was shocked by what she saw.
The whole of Isle de Muerta was surrounded. There were a good ten pirate ships, all hovering just off shore in a noose-like shape around the island. The largest of them, which was also closest to the Revenge, was a pitch black vessel with a winged harpie carved into its bowsprit.
The blood drained out of Carewyn’s face at the sight of it.
It was the Tower Raven.
#potc au#pirates of the caribbean#au#my writing#my art#carewyn cromwell#blaise cromwell#charles cromwell#claire cromwell#pearl cromwell#orion amari#bill weasley#charlie weasley#skye parkin#murphy mcnully#jules farrier#I decided to cut this in smaller parts because the first draft honestly did throw a bit too much at you at once#so those of you who saw this early that's why it's now shorter#sorry XD;;#this whole isle de muerta climax has NO good place to cut it#like AT ALL#the charles sketch actually is for the scene directly after this#so for those of you reading this as is...spoilers? XD#not really#but#don't worry the second part of the battle will be up very soon#I won't leave you guys dangling too long
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Final Frontier
This story is purely the fault of my husband. We are both very big geeks, and one day decided to start casting Inuyasha Characters as Star Fleet personnel. This story was then born.
on Ao3: Here
on FFN: Here
I do not own Inuyasha or Star Trek, and I know its an odd paring, but I hope you enjoy it.
Tags for those who have expressed an interest or helped me in writing this: @willowandfog @smmahamazing @disgruntledbeast @superpixie42 @lemonlushff @fantastiqueparfait @clearwillow @underwater0phelia
If you would like to be added to the tags please let me know.
CHAPTER 1: USS NOBUNAGA
A tall brown-haired woman stalked through the corridors of the ship, her dark brown eyes flashing. Ensigns and officers alike quickly moved aside, none wanting to further anger the First Officer or have her attention focused on them. Sango noted the crew, but her focus was on reaching one place.
The door to the bridge slid open, and she quickly moved in front of the doors to the ready room. She pressed the intercom and straightened her uniform while she waited for the soft answer granting her entry. She flicked a small white speck off the red shoulders of her command uniform and entered the Captain’s presence.
Sitting behind his desk looking out among the stars she saw her Captain, Sesshomaru. His long silvery white hair was tied back in low ponytail, showing his pointed ears. At first glance some would think he was Vulcan until they saw his dark amber eyes that shone almost like ice.
Sesshomaru turned in his chair to face the first officer.
“How can I help you Sango?” he asked coolly, raising a silver eyebrow at her.
Sango almost vibrated with annoyance, but she kept her voice even “Permission to speak freely, Sir.” She waited until she received his nod before continuing.
“Do you really think it is wise to have your brother serve here with you on the bridge crew? There were other candidates with … better… service records who will feel slightly slighted by his assignment.”
Sesshomaru titled his head, his eyes flashing briefly. “Your concerns are well founded, but do not worry. He is more than qualified for the position. As to the reasons I asked for him to be part of this crew, I am not prepared to discuss them at this time.”
Sango knew that it was the final say on the matter, but she wanted to make one point clear. “Even though he is your brother, you know it will be my duty to treat him like any other member of this crew.”
Sesshomaru nodded at her “I would expect nothing less, he should not get any special treatment because of his relation to me.”
Sango slightly frowned, she hesitated to ask, but given the … reputation… of the new officer, she needed the clarification.
“And if he steps out of line, Sir?”
Sesshomaru gave a small smile before turning back to look at the stars around them. “As I said, he gets no special treatment.”
_________________________________
On a Starfleet base several light years away, another silver-haired man paced impatiently. His light golden eyes seemed to burn as he stopped to look at the time displayed on the wall before swearing under his breath and returning to pacing.
‘I really hate stations’ he thought, growling as his ears were bombarded with sounds from thousands of people talking and moving about. At the top of his head, two silver dog ears twitched, trying to ease the pain from the cacophony around him.
“Inuyasha, relax.” A dark-haired man leaned against the wall, drinking a cup of coffee. The blue shoulders of his uniform almost matched his eyes as he watched his friend continue pacing. “They are not scheduled to dock until 16:00, we still have 20 minutes before they will arrive.”
Inuyasha turned with a huff, his silver hair flowing causing more than one woman on the station to sigh. His ears caught the sound, and his mouth flattened, normally he wouldn’t mind the attention, but he was too worked up and annoyed at the moment.
“Who the hell does he think he is Miroku?” he snarled to his friend.
“I would say, he thinks he’s your brother AND your new Captain.” Came the tired reply. Miroku had been forced to have this conversation with Inuyasha several times once they had received their transfer papers.
It wasn’t that Inuyasha didn’t want to work abord the USS-Nobunaga, he did. It was the last Excelsior Class built in the fleet, designed for exploration and recognizance. As a lieutenant, he had been a key part of the security team on the USS Nautilus, a Miranda class starship, for 6 years and had been told he was in line for a promotion to chief of security. Then he received notice that he had been promoted to Lt. Commander, which had stunned him, and that he was being promoted to Chief of Security and Tactical Officer on the USS-Nobunaga, with his friend Miroku coming on as the new Science Officer. Anyone who wanted to get anywhere in Starfleet knew that this was a plum opportunity.
Then the other shoe dropped.
Sesshomaru was the Captain.
His fucking brother. That was what irritated Inuyasha, he was once again in his brother’s shadow. Growing up he had always been one step behind Sesshomaru, he was good, but not quite good enough. He had learned to hate that phrase. Even at the academy he had pushed himself to the best of his abilities, but as a half inu half human, he always had fallen short of his brother, a full blooded Inu, in abilities and rankings. Their race gave them increased speed and strength, but no matter how hard he tried, he had never been able to match or surpass Sesshomaru. Hell, his brother was Captain of a starship, while he was just getting his third hollow pip on his collar.
Granted, Sesshomaru was 7 years older than Inuyasha, and had graduated before Inuyasha, but once again, Sesshomaru had excelled and flew up the ranks. Inuyasha and Sesshomaru were the only two Inu’s to date who had completed the Starfleet training. Unfortunately, Sesshomaru went first. Going through the Academy, Inuyasha had dealt with several professors expressing disappointment that he wasn’t as quick as Sesshomaru, or that his test scores were not as high as Sesshomaru. The only thing that the instructors commented on for Inuyasha for was his ability to make friends with his classmates, Sesshomaru had been a bit of a loner, Inuyasha was the one everyone wanted to know. He remembered getting lectured at that if he would just stop trying to be friends and going out, he could be as good in class as his brother.
He was so fucking tired of being second to everyone but his mother. He knew his father loved him, but Sesshomaru was the prodigy, the heir. He was just the spare, and he knew it.
Despite the promotion, and the opportunity it provided, Inuyasha had felt the need to protest just because it was Sesshomaru. He wanted to distinguish himself for who he was, his own abilities, and not because he was riding the coattails of his brother.
And then he was told that Sesshomaru had specifically requested him for the position. His prior Captain told him at a farewell gathering that she thought she could push him over with a feather with how stunned he looked. It took Inuyasha a few moments to process what he had been told. It was one thing for a Captain to request a specific officer for their ship, it was another for that Captain to not only request the officer, but to also request a relative variance for the bridge crew.
Now Inuyasha wanted to know what Sesshomaru was thinking. He didn’t do anything without there being a purpose. Something about their mission had Sesshomaru thinking he would need Inuyasha, it sure as hell wasn’t because of a desire to see his brother succeed.
They had always had a strained relationship, Inuyasha after all was the half-brother, the son of their father, Touga Taisho and a human settler, Izayoi. Touga’s first wife and Sesshomaru’s mother, Inukimmi, had been ill after giving birth to Sesshomaru, Izayoi had been hired as her in home nurse. A year after Inukimmi had died, Touga and Izayoi were married, and nine months later Inuyasha was born. Sesshomaru had resented Izayoi, and because of that, Inuyasha. He would not explain his reasoning, but Inuyasha suspected it was because it felt like betrayal. Inu’s, by nature, were fiercely loyal, and took one mate for life. It was unheard of for an Inu to take a second wife, yet their father had. Many saw it as a shame upon the family, but their father had been powerful enough in the global government that the whispers were kept away from him, but Inuyasha had heard them all. And Sesshomaru never missed an opportunity to remind him that he was an anomaly, something to be pitied.
That was why he was desperate to prove himself on his own, to show that he was a worthy son of Touga and Izayoi, so he could return home as a celebrated officer and finally feel that he had made his parents proud. To feel like he wasn’t just a mistake.
It burned him that Sesshomaru could take that away. Yet he knew he couldn’t reject the opportunity, or the position. And so there he was, pacing impatiently, waiting for his new ship, his new crew, to dock. He stalked over to Miroku, taking a spot along the wall next to his friend.
“Ok Miroku” Inuyasha sighed, needing a distraction. “I know you have been doing research on this ship, who are we dealing with and what are we walking into?”
Miroku’s blue eyes sparkled with excitement as he pulled out his pad and opened his notes.
“Let me see… we are going to skip the Captain, I presume you don’t want information about your brother?” he teased, leaning over to nudge Inuyasha with his elbow. A low growl was the response from the half-inu, which caused Miroku to chuckle.
“I didn’t think so, moving on then. Commander Sango Tajiya, First Officer. She is a 29-year-old human who excels in martial arts, battle tactics and one of the highest scores on her command test. She was Salutatorian of her graduating class and saw action in the Dominion War, in which she received her Starfleet Medal of Honor, she is also a recipient of the Preanteres Ribbon of Commendation. She served for the last 4 years as Tactical on the USS-Hood where Sesshomaru was first officer, and he requested her as his first officer abord the USS-Nobunaga. I do have to say, if our previous commanding officers had looked like her, I would have actually looked forward to being called to task and punished by her. Sources tell me that she enjoys combat training sessions on the holodeck and has a pet neko that she has brought on all postings with her. Her favorite color is pink, she’s around 5’6” with a very athletic build with legs for days. She has waist length dark brown hair and what appear to be deep chocolate eyes. She has a younger brother, who is NOT part of Starfleet, that she has weekly conversations with.”
Inuyasha grunted slightly, one ear flicking towards Miroku.
“Lt. Commander Kagome Higurashi, Operations Manager and third in the chain of command. She is 27 years old, human. She is seen as a prodigy in Engineering and Computer Science. She was valedictorian of her class, recipient of the Cochrane Medal of Excellence for her theories of engineering which led to improvements of the warp drives. Note, do not mention this to her, she does not like being reminded that her engines are being tested, and per reports is embarrassed by the attention and press she received. Miss Higurashi is on the smaller side, 5’2” according to official records, with long black hair and light brown eyes. My sources have indicated that you and she have something in common, you both love ramen (lord only knows why), and she can often be found curled up in a library program in the Holodeck. As far as my sources have been able to find, she has never been on a date or had any serious relationship, though many have tried.”
Inuyasha shook his head. “Are there any of the officers that you would like to tell me about that AREN’T pretty young women you want to talk into bearing your children?”
Miroku gave his friend a mock pout before continuing. “Well, if your past history is any indication you will be spending quite a bit of time with her, we have Dr. Kaede Hiatsu, the Chief Medical Officer. She has served on Starfleet for 45 years, and was a field doctor during the Dominion War, stationed near Deep Space Nine due to her ability to think on her feet, surgical skills, and calmness under pressure.”
Inuyasha growled “I wasn’t in that many fights Miroku… and I never started them, I just made sure to end them.”
“Yes, but Inuyasha, you won’t be able to punch first and ask questions later this time. You will need to use that skill you keep forgetting to train, patience.”
“Feh.”
Miroku scrolled through his pad, looking for additional information to relay.
“Ahhh…. Navigation and Communication, Ensign Shippo Kit, a 22-year-old kitsune. He has a talent for languages, during four years at the academy he taught himself… eight languages… holy hell.”
Inuyasha’s eyebrow lifted at that statement, his curiosity peaked.
“Let’s see, he can learn languages quickly, and thanks to his kitsune heritage he can change his appearance to blend with his background or the local residents, paired with his language skills this made him a highly sought after member of recognizance teams. His flight and navigations scores coming out of the Academy were high enough that he was immediately placed onto the USS-Nobunaga. He is assigned to navigation, but also acts as a communications expert.”
Miroku scanned through his notes before his eyes lit up with a mischievous glint.
Inuyasha looked up at the time displayed on the wall. There were still 10 minutes until the ship would dock. If he knew Sesshomaru, he would be exactly on time, not late, not early.
It was going to be a long ten minutes.
_______________________
Sango watched the Starbase 423 come closer through the viewscreen on the bridge. She nodded to Shippo, and the computer called the senior officers to the docking bay.
“Ensign Kit, you are with me.” Sango said, motioning for his relief to assume the helm. Shippo stood and followed her into the lift.
Sango’s eyes softened as she watched the man beside her. He was tall with bright auburn hair pulled back and secured with a band, but his bright green eyes seemed nervous. Shippo was new to the ship she knew, and she had not had much opportunity to get to know him. Sango knew it was important to know all members of her bridge crew and to build the trust between the teams. In the Dominion war, that trust had meant the difference between life and death.
“At ease Ensign, you don’t need to be nervous.” Sango kept her voice soft, hoping to help sooth Shippo’s nerves. Shippo took a deep breath and nervously rubbed his hands down the sides of his uniform pants as he released it, then looked over to Sango.
“Sorry Commander.” He said quietly.
“No need to apologize, you will get used to meeting new officers in time.”
“Oh no no no, it’s not that, its….” Shippo paused, not sure if he wanted to continue but knew that he needed to be honest with his commanding officer. “In the Academy we heard so much about the Inu brothers. Everyone wanted to match Sesshomaru in skill, he became the ideal to strive to be, but Inuyasha was the one everyone had stories about, so he kinda became a legend if you know what I mean.”
Sango’s eyes went cold “Yes, I’ve heard of some of his… antics.”
Sango knew her Captain had his reasons for bringing his brother on board, she just had no idea what they were. She was trying to get this crew into shape, the Dominion War may have ended, but that did not mean they could rest on their laurels and get out of practice, and then Sesshomaru decided to bring in Inuyasha.
She had reviewed his service records carefully after she received the notice to analyze this new unknown entity on her ship. She knew he was transferring in with their new science officer, but Inuyasha was the one that worried her. He didn’t have a troubling record per se, but there were enough scuffles and incidents that were noted that didn’t quite meet the level of reprimand that had her concerned. His prior commanding officers described him as ruthlessly efficient with a gruff attitude… and almost no patience. He had shown to have an innate understanding of battle tactics during the Dominion War, the Captain of the Nautilus had brought him in for battle planning, and his plans and tactical maneuvers were a large part of why the Nautilus had succeeded and survived the Dominion War.
There was nothing she could really point to in his record to show why she was uneasy about him joining the ship. He was reported to be an excellent officer if you did not set off his temper. What bothered her the most though was it seemed he had his own personal code of right and wrong, just as she did. Inuyasha had been in a few fights with suspects and on away missions, and the reports carefully never mentioned who had started the fights, just who had ended them, which was not typically Starfleet protocol. She would have to keep an eye on him, which is why she had needed to make it clear with her Captain what her boundaries were with their new Chief of Security and Tactical Officer.
The turbo lift opened, and Shippo and Sango made their way to the docking bay with the other senior officers. Sango noticed that they had arrived before the Captain, and she quickly did a visual inspection of the team to ensure they all met regulation. She chuckled to herself when she saw her friend and Operations Officer Kagome, whose long wavy black hair had partially escaped its confinement. Sango caught Kagome’s attention and motioned to her hair, she saw her friend’s cheeks turn pink before Kagome quickly removed her hair tie and tried to tame her hair in a low ponytail. Sango heard the swish of the doors and came to attention as Sesshomaru walked into the bay. At exactly 16:00, the Nobunaga docked with the Space Station, and Inuyasha and Miroku were officially ushered on board.
Inuyasha entered first, his eyes scanning the room before landing on his brother. Golden eyes met dark amber, and Inuyasha straightened his spine before marching to stand in front of Sesshomaru.
“Lt. Commander Inuyasha Taisho, reporting for duty Sir.”
“Lt. Miroku Hoshi, reporting for duty Sir.”
Sesshomaru looked at the pair before him, his eyes lingering on his brother. “Welcome aboard. I leave you in the competent hands of my First Officer.” With a slight nod that could almost be a welcome, Sesshomaru turned and left the docking bay.
Inuyasha let out his breath, partially irked at the cold welcome, but also relieved that he had not had to endure one of Sesshomaru’s scathing welcomes that he had dealt with at home.
“Puppy ears. No one said anything about puppy ears.” He heard a woman whisper from the group standing beside him. One ear turned towards the sound, and the speaker let out a soft “eep” as she realized that he had heard her.
“KAGOME” he heard hissed back quietly. Pulling up the information from Miroku about the Operations Officer, he turned to face the group. He was able to identify most of the group from the descriptions (Miroku forgot to mention that Kaede only had one eye) and the red-haired young man had to be Shippo.
What he was not expecting was the punch in the gut when he saw Lt. Commander Higurashi for the first time. He had seen beautiful women before, hell he had been engaged to one at the end of his time at the Academy, but they had nothing on the petite beauty before him. Her long black hair was barely tamed in a ponytail, and her brown eyes reminded him of melted chocolate. He watched as her cheeks tinged pink and she shyly pulled her gaze away from him.
The woman next to her walked forward towards them, the red shoulders of her uniform designating her in a Command position, the three full pips identifying her as the First Officer.
“Commander Tajiya, I look forward to working with you.” Inuyasha calmly stated, extending a hand to his new commanding officer.
“Likewise, Lt. Commander Taisho.” Was the response.
Sango turned to her new science officer, who was staring at her with a dazed expression on his face.
“Lieutenant?” Sango questioned, catching his attention.
Without thinking, Miroku stared at her in awe “holy hell Yash” he whispered, “she’s gorgeous.”
Inuyasha elbowed his friend in the side, shaking him out of his daze. Miroku’s face turned bright red as he realized what he had just said.
“umm, I apologize Commander, I… I uh…. Ilookforwardtoworkingwithoupleaseforgiveme.”
Sango eyed the two of them, she thought Inuyasha was the one she was going to have trouble with, but it seemed that her new Science Officer would be the bigger headache. “Thank you both, and welcome to the Nobunaga. We will meet in the briefing room at 16:20. Until then, dismissed.”
At Sango’s command, Shippo made a beeline for Inuyasha, peppering him with questions about stories from the Academy, wanting confirmation on which were true, and which were embellished, then asking about his experience in the Dominion war. The Kitsune’s excitement was evident to everyone around him, he wasn’t giving Inuyasha the chance to answer a question before asking the next one.
Kagome found herself rooted in place watching Shippo and Inuyasha, thankful that Shippo was distracting Inuyasha. She was slightly embarrassed that he had heard her before, but come on, he had puppy ears! Somehow that had been left out of his Starfleet records that she had gone over with Sango. She had felt… not quite nerves… when their eyes had met briefly. He was Hot. Like seriously HOT. It was strange, he looked so much like the Captain, yet she had never once (ok maybe once) thought that about the Captain, but there was something about Inuyasha that made him seem more approachable. Kagome felt her cheeks heat up again, and she chastised herself for her thoughts. Even if he were approachable, she wouldn’t know how to go about it, she had few male friends (though Shippo was growing on her), and she had never had that reaction with any other man.
She watched the two men locked in conversation (well, she wasn’t sure if it was conversation or interrogation as Shippo was still asking questions), admiring the picture they made, Inuyasha with his long silver hair in a low ponytail standing a few inches over Shippo with his unruly red hair tied back. She felt herself shiver as Inuyasha’s eyes darted to her, she swore she saw his eyes go darker as he looked her over before one side of his mouth quirked up in a smirk, the tip of a fang peeking out. And then he…
Winked at her.
At her. At Kagome Higurashi. Her face turned bright red and she scurried out of the dock. She knew she would need a few moments to compose herself, at least that’s what she had always heard other say. Now for the first time she knew what they meant. The bridge was about to get… interesting. She just wished she knew him or his profile well enough to know if he was just teasing her, if he was a womanizer (She had heard of officers with a girl at every planet and port), or if he thought she was cute. Her brain short circuited at the last thought, and she shook her head to clear it, embarrassed about her thoughts. He was a fellow officer. That was it. She wouldn’t know how to handle any more than that.
Inuyasha watched her escape, half listening to the young ensign who had introduced himself as Shippo, while his senses followed Kagome out of the bay. As she passed, he caught the scent of vanilla and roses, everyday scents in perfume worn on the starships, but for some reason it had hit his senses like ambrosia. He realized that he was still being hit with a million questions from the very enthusiastic kitsune, and he shifted his full attention back. The smirk that had not left his face grew into a grin as he saw the excited green eyes that watched him with an expression that bordered on hero worship.
“Look Shippo, right? I believe Commander Tajiya needs me in a few minutes, I promise to answer all your questions as we work together. I’m going to need someone to help me get familiar with the ship, wanna help me?”
Shippo’s jaw nearly dropped, the legend, THE INUYASHA was asking for his help, HIS HELP. It was the single best day of his life; even greater than the day he was assigned to the Nobunaga.
“Absolutely Sir!” he excitedly chirped, almost dancing with excitement.
Inuyasha chuckled before calling Miroku over.
“Great! Look, when we aren’t on duty you can just call me Yash. This is one of my closest friends from the Academy, Miroku, Miroku this is Shippo.”
“And by closest friend he means his handler.” Miroku teased, reaching out to shake Shippo’s hand.
Inuyasha snorted at that “Like I need a fucking handler.”
Miroku lifted an eyebrow and donned a serious expression. “Inuyasha, that was the bargain for my transferring with you, I was instructed to KEEP HIM IN LINE and to KEEP THAT INU OUT OF TROUBLE.”
Inuyasha flat out laughed, almost choking “Dude, you are usually the one who gets me into trouble.”
Miroku thought about that for a second. “Sadly, it is true.” He admitted.
Shippo watched the two senior officers, his eyes growing wider and wider. He had heard some of the pranks that the duo had played in the Academy, and now they were here, in his ship, working with him for the foreseeable future. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was, he would be the envy of his classmates. He could not WAIT to tell Shiori about this, she would kill for this opportunity.
“Let me show you the way to the bridge and to the briefing room.” Shippo hated interrupting the back and forth, but he didn’t want their first day to go off track. “Sango is a stickler for being on time, and besides” he said slyly, looking at Miroku “I would think you would want all the brownie points you could to get back in her good graces.”
Inuyasha and Miroku went silent, both turning to face Shippo. Shippo immediately panicked, he was afraid that he had overstepped his bounds, but he just wanted so much to feel included and then he goes and does….
His frantic thoughts eased as Inuyasha smiled and Miroku’s head fell with a groan.
“Kid” Inuyasha smirked “we are going to get along just fine.”
__________________________________________
At exactly 16:20 Inuyasha and Miroku made sure they were both seated in the briefing room, heeding Shippo’s advice. Miroku was already deeply in conversation with Kaede regarding different herbs and plants that had been found on a recent botany expedition that had been found to have latent healing properties. Miroku had been one of the scientists working on perfecting the extraction method, and Kaede had been sent some of the prototype salves to determine its practical application in the field. She had sent back comments and feedback, and Miroku had asked for some further clarification and expansion on some of the reports.
Inuyasha eyes were darting around the room, taking in the layout, where the computers were located, how the table and chairs were situated near the panes of glass. He wanted to familiarize himself with every room, especially where the senior officers and Captain would spend time, to prepare for any potential security concern. He already wanted to speak with Kagome about getting a secondary com system set up just for the security team. It would serve two purposes, the first to develop a communication system that would be reliable if the computer was compromised in security crises, and the second to give him a chance to get to know Kagome outside of the bridge. Every time his eyes went her direction, she would flush an adorable shade of pink and make sure that she was looking anywhere BUT at him. He looked forward to exploring that later.
With a soft sound the doors opened, and Sango strode into the room, taking her place at the head of the table.
“Ok everyone, I hope you have had the opportunity to meet our new officers. As soon as our Chief of Engineering returns to the ship we will be departing. The supplies have all been brought on board, and Jaken should be here within the half hour. We have been asked to escort a supply ship through contested space, the last three ships were all destroyed.”
Inuyasha sat forward “Do we know what type of ships and what weapons were used?”
Sango looked over at her Inuyasha with a grudging respect. Those were the questions she had asked as well, and she silently reassessed her opinion of her new tactical officer. “From what limited information was relayed during the attacks, the supply vessels were destroyed by what seemed to be photon torpedoes. Given the limited data we have not been able to identify any specific energy signature that would allow us to identify who we are dealing with.”
Inuyasha began going through the list in his mind of which races equipped photon torpedoes, cross referencing with his own knowledge of the races in that sector of space. Each potential opponent required a different tactic, and he wanted to be prepared just in ca…
“Bridge to Commander Tajiya” Shippo’s voice was heard from Sango’s communicator.
“Go ahead Ensign.”
“We have received confirmation that Jaken is on board, we are cleared to disembark.”
“Acknowledged.”
Sango looked at her senior officers and gave a small smile. “Everyone, please report to your duty stations. Lt. Commander Taisho and Lt. Hoshi, time to get a feel for the Nobunaga.”
#inuyasha#inuyasha fanfiction#kagome#inukag fanfic#inukag#bamf sango#sango inuyasha#star trek#Star Trek AU#Captain Sesshomaru#I blame my husband#Ruddcatha
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The Call of the Dark
“She’s beautiful, don't you think?”, said the stout man. His face was pale, but not the kind of paleness you see when someone is ill. It was the kind of pale a person obtains naturally, as though from birth. Despite his paleness, his face shone bright and somehow the very prominent freckles on his face became even more visible, there was a faint twinkle in his eyes, and if you didn't pay attention, even for a second, you would miss it. With the way he looked, you would guess he had just won the lottery. “I met her at this very coffee shop a few months ago and we really hit it off! I never thought I would find someone who was into a lot of the stuff I liked, well excluding you of course”.
He looked right at me, to make sure what he said hadn't made me upset. It didn't of course, but he didn't need to know that. “Oh how miserable I am, to find out my good friend Chase has found another, and now I will be left all on my own to deal with my sorrows”, I spoke, with just a hint of mischief in my voice. He certainly did not find it funny but I found it to be hilarious, to the point I burst out laughing, something I hadn’t done in a long time. Before I knew it, Chase had joined in on the laughter and whatever tension was present had cleared from the air. “It really is nice to see you again and I’m glad you’ve finally found your special someone”. A light pink dusted his cheeks at what I assumed to be my little comment. “Enough about me, I want to know what’s going on with you Mr. Mysterious”.
I had taken note of the newly designated nickname, although I knew the reasoning behind it. “I can’t say a lot really happened, my life isn't exactly thrilling”. I took a sip of my coffee, it was caramel macchiato, my favourite, her favourite. I shook my head to get rid of the thought and instead took in the familiar view of the shop. It was rather small, and not heavily decorated except for a few advertisement posters plastered on the wall, the top half of the wall was a deep brown colour (rather typical for a coffee shop) while the lower bottom of the walls were plain white.
There were five circular spruce wood tables each with two chairs at the centre of the shop while the corners were occupied by booth tables for anyone who might decide to have coffee with a large group of friends. On the opposite side of the shop was the counter, where people got their orders. The counter itself was coloured just like the wall, white and brown, except they chose to incorporate the colour white as the name of the shop ‘Latte Love’. I had always made it a point to mention it to everyone I knew that I never liked that name, there really was nothing to love about their latte’s. Even with all my complaints, I still managed to come to this coffee shop every morning at the same time, to order the same drink. I turned my head as I noticed something unfamiliar had caught my attention.
A looming shadow stood at the corner of the shop. I couldn’t quite make out it’s figure but it looked and felt like pure darkness, emphasis on felt. The figure began to step closer to me and the closer it came, the more I could feel it trying to consume me. I was called out of my state by a question from the man sitting in front of me. “Earth to Malcolm, I said do you plan on coming to the game tonight?”, he said while waving a hand in front of me. “Yeah sure”, I said, while not knowing what he was referring to. “Great! I think this is a great time for you to finally meet her!”. Her? The confusion was clear on my face, evident by the question he followed up with, “Oh no, don't tell me you forgot”, he said, disappointment clearly laced in his tone.
“No?” “I set you up to meet a lady friend of mine, we agreed that you guys would meet at the game this Saturday?” “WHAT?” “What do you mean ‘what’, you totally agreed to this?!” “I have no memory of anything of the sorts”, I huffed. “Well it doesn’t matter now because you HAVE to go. My friend already expects you to be there and I can't have her thinking ``I'm friends with a jerk” “Well I don’t care what your friend thinks” ''Come on, it’s just this time, maybe try out your luck? If you don't like her then you don’t have to see her again, what do you have to lose?” “Fine, I’ll go, but I'm not promising anything” “Great dude! Make sure to come at 2pm, not a moment later” “Yeah yeah”.
I woke up to an intense pounding in my head, stretching down towards the upper nape of my neck. It felt like a hammer had somehow found its way to my skull in the middle of the night and unleashed all its fury on my poor unsuspecting head. This pain was something I had become familiar with as of late. It happened again. I had the dream again. After having this happen to me for two months straight, it had become something I was used to. I just casually went about most of my days with a nausea inducing headache. Although this headache was particularly fearsome, I knew the reason why.
I had gone on a different route after my little meet up with Chase at the coffee shop. What I hadn't realised was that this new path was not new at all. It was very familiar but I couldn’t reason as to why I felt it was. It was of no importance now, I had to get ready for the game, for my date. It was going to be particularly difficult pretending I was excited to be there, especially with a splitting headache. I had already planned how I was going to break it off. I would tell her how great a time I had but say I wasn't looking for anything right now or something like that.
It didn’t really matter what I said as long as she understood that I wasn't interested. I stood up from my messy bright yellow twin bed. It was ironic really, that someone as miserable as me would own something that was often seen as a symbol of joy. I looked at myself in the mirror right across from my bed. I looked… awful. I had refrained from looking at myself in the mirror and now I remembered why. I was a tidy person by nature but in recent times I had neglected myself, and it was… evident. My thick, black, tightly curled hair was dreadfully matted from the lack of combing. I had also developed a bushy beard and a subtle mustache. My skin was ashy and my lips were cracked, it was getting colder, no surprise as winter was just around the corner.
I hadn’t been to the gym in months and whatever sign of being fit I had, was nowhere to be seen. In other words I had gained a considerable amount of weight. My eyes looked drained and tired and the bags under them looked more prominent than ever. I knew that if I was going to be meeting someone new, even if I wasn’t interested in keeping ties, that I had to look decent. I tidied myself up and got dressed. I chose to wear a plain blue shirt and some trousers. I didn’t feel the need to dress up since it was just a ball game. It was 1:30pm and I needed to be on my way. The sooner I got there the sooner I could hopefully leave. I got into my very run down red Toyota and made my way to the game. Thoughts were swirling in my head, memories were resurfacing, but I shoved them all down as I parked my car. I took a deep breath and made my way to the game.
I saw Chase, his girlfriend and someone else sitting next to him, the person I assumed to be his friend. She sat nervously, darting her eyes from one direction to another, until her eyes finally settled on me, I flinched as I realised we made eye contact. I waved nervously and she waved back, just as nervous. But what I couldn’t understand was why I was nervous. That didn’t matter, I had a plan and I had to stick to it. I walked up to the bleachers where the other baseball enthusiasts sat, making sure not to sit too close to the girl. I didn’t want to send the wrong message. “Hi, I’m Anne, nice to meet you”, she said. “It’s my first time going on a date in a long time, I’m kind of nervous”. “Interesting, so she’s more or less in the same situation as me”, I whispered. “Well, I’m Malcolm and it’s nice to meet you too”, I said with a slightly forced smile.
The announcer made note of the start of the game, if there was something I had observed from coming here it was that the girl, Anne, was a very big sport enthusiast and other than that she was… pretty. Although I had acknowledged I wanted there to be nothing between us, it would be silly to deny that fact. She was rather short compared to me, this I knew from whenever she would jolt up from her seat at a moment of intensity in the game. She was dark skinned, just like me and had long thick afro hair neatly bunched to the back allowing you to see her face. She was well built but more on the slim side. Her eyes were the most prominent part of her face, they were big and full of emotion, and the emotion right at that moment was excitement.
The team she was rooting for was on their way to victory with only a few minutes of the game left, they had the victory in the palm of their hands. One advantage of having a date at a baseball game with someone who is passionate about the sport is that you don't have to bother with talking to the other person, they just do their own thing and you do yours. She was so captivated by the game it was like she had forgotten she was actually here on a date with me, she would occasionally sneak in a few questions on what I thought of the game. I always gave a brief simple answer and she would go back to being completely engrossed in the game. I admitted it was nice not having to feel inclined to respond, or having to fill in the silence when no one was saying anything.
The game finally came to an end and people began leaving the stadium. I rehearsed my lines ready to tell her I wasn’t interested but to my surprise she turned to me and spoke right before I could get a word out. “Look, you're probably a great guy and I had a great time but I don’t think I’m really interested in you that way, no hard feelings?”. An unlikely turn of events, the girl I was supposed to let down easy was the one turning me down? It offered an easy way out but I would have preferred if I wasn’t on the receiving end of a ‘rejection’. “That’s fine, I actually feel the same way, I’m honestly glad you said that, I didn’t want to have to hurt your feelings or anything” “I’m glad we agree, I think it’s about time I leave, it was nice meeting you Malcolm” “You too”.
There it was again, that feeling of familiarity, like this exact thing or something familiar had happened to me. I could feel a wave of emotion re-surfacing from the depths of my being. I saw the dark figure again, standing next to the bleachers, this time just staring at me, as if to try and tell me something. And then I remembered.
Laughter. We were on our way back from a restaurant, it had gone great. I was going to propose, I wanted it to be private, just the two of us. We headed down an alleyway. Bang Bang. We heard it and tried to run. Bang Bang.
The sound was getting closer, I was terrified something horrible would happen and more so to her. We made it to the end of the alleyway but they cornered us, they said they couldn’t let us go. I tried to take them down but they threatened to shoot. And they did, but not me. They shot her instead, there was a lot of blood, I was mortified, police sirens were blaring, the shooter and his accomplice ran away. I tried to get help but no one was listening, they were too focused on the criminal. She died in my arms. It wasn’t fair. I could feel all the emotions of that day resurfacing, I had to leave as soon as possible. I couldn't be here. I rushed to my car and sped home. I rushed inside and rummaged around for my meds, I fumbled around for the container, I found it, although I had trouble opening it because I was trembling. I opened the cap and dumped the meds into my hand, I took them, more than I should have, I didn’t care. I just didn’t want to feel this anymore. And soon enough, the drugs started taking effect and I started to feel better, although I could still see the mysterious shadow at the corner of my room, it didn’t do anything, it didn’t even try to approach me, almost like it couldn’t. As long as it didn’t do anything I didn’t have a problem. It would either leave on its own or I would get used to it. I collapsed on my bed and let out a heavy sigh. The day didn’t go horribly but it wasn’t great either. I had almost had a meltdown in front of a lot of people, something I would much prefer to avoid. I needed to get rest, I had work in the morning and it would be better if I could actually function when I got there.
I could see the faint shimmer of the sun peeking through my window. It was morning and I hadn’t slept a wink. I couldn’t sleep, less because of the fact that I had overdosed on my meds and more because the mysterious shadow hadn’t left me since the day at the ball game. I got up and began to get ready for work. It was obvious I hadn’t slept, both visually and from the way I felt. I could hardly move and I looked half-dead. I just hoped my boss wouldn’t cause a fuss as I believed I could still get work done, but probably at a slower pace and a few mistakes here and there. As an accountant, mistakes aren’t exactly welcome and neither is wasting time but I'm sure I could survive a day of scolding from my boss.
“You’re fired!”. The door to the office slammed shut and I stood there, dumbfounded. I didn’t have a job anymore. According to my boss, I wasn’t working at company standard anymore and I had caused a lot of losses with my mistakes. I had figured he would be angry but I never expected to have gotten fired. Then it dawned on me, my mother. How was I going to pay for her meds if I didn’t have a job? It felt like my world was spiraling into some horrible dark abyss of despair. She was all I had left and the thought of losing her was too much for me to handle. Soon enough I wouldn’t be able to cover rent, and I would get kicked out, my mother would get horribly sick and it would all be over for me and her. I was panicking to say the least. I tried to regain my composure, at least until I was in the privacy of my home. I needed to find a job fast. I made my way back home and slumped on my bed. Ding. A message from my phone, my mum asking me to send money for this week's meds. I had to send her some money from my emergency funds, I really needed to get searching. I looked at the corner of my room and sure enough it was there, but it seemed to have gotten larger and more terrifying. Great, another thing I had to deal with, well not really, since it wasn’t exactly doing anything.
Weeks had gone by, I had tried everything but I couldn’t find another job. Mum was getting worse, she didn’t have her meds anymore and her illness was catching up to her. I knew she didn’t have much time so I tried to see her, but she didn’t want me anywhere near her. She didn’t want me to see her so sick and I’m sure she wouldn’t be thrilled to see me looking so unlively right now. All my friends were getting worried, I hadn’t spoken to anyone in weeks and they wanted to make sure I was okay. I couldn’t tell them the truth, they would fuss over it, or they wouldn’t understand and I couldn’t lie to them either, they didn’t deserve that. It was easier to just cut off all ties. Yes. The only company I had was the looming shadow. Over the past few weeks I had almost grown to like its presence. It was comforting in a way, just having it stand there and watch me, it never approached me, something I preferred, never asked me questions, never worried about me, just stared at me and I liked it that way. I had also stopped taking my medication as they had run out so maybe that was another contributing factor. I talked to the figure occasionally, it was the shadow that told me to stop talking to my friends, anytime it had something it wanted me to do, it wouldn’t stop repeating it until I did what it said, so as long as I listened it didn’t annoy me much. It had tried and succeeded to hurt me a few times but I never complained. I didn’t want it to leave so I never said anything that might cause it to depart from me. It would soon be just the two of us.
I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing, I didn’t think I would receive calls anymore after I had pretty much cut off connections with my friends. I looked at my phone and saw that it was an unknown number. I cut the call but they kept persisting, I reluctantly answered the call. “Who is this, and why are you bothering me” “Is this Malcom Forman?” “Yes, now what do you want?!” “I’m sorry to inform you that your mother passed away a few hours ago in her sleep” “Oh… thank you for calling me, goodbye”. I cried. Even though I knew it would happen eventually, I still cried, I couldn’t - no I wouldn’t believe it was possible. I had failed my mother, my friends, myself. I was worthless. Even through my tears I could still see the shadow, it didn’t even have a face but it almost looked as though it was… smiling? I certainly hadn’t said anything funny. I was so intrigued by it that I had stopped crying.
I stopped to look at the mysterious creature. Whatever smile was present had vanished. The creature came closer to me, but the air around it felt different. Every fibre of my being told me to run but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to run. I sat on my bed as it slowly approached me, until everything around me was enveloped in darkness. There was nothing else there, even the mysterious shadow creature was gone. If you think about it, it's rather poetic. My life just like everyone else's began in darkness and now it ends with darkness once again.
#my first official post straight from my brain#this is bad but I needed to put this somewhere#feel free to critisize#its also kind of long but that might just be me#i hope at least one person sees this
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Champagne Life Is All You Want
Word Count: 15.7k+
Genre: Romance, Idol/Hoop Aerialist AU, Smut, Cirque Du Soleil vibes, Gatsby Flair
Summary: It’s simple, love for luxury. You've lived this way for a long time. True love only existed in fables but after hitting a complete stranger with a car that isn’t even yours you find out that your new victim’s name is Lee Taemin and he has fallen hard into your web of deception that allows you to live the life of expensive pleasures that you always seem to swindle from your clients. The truth will break his heart, are you only in it for the money or have you begun to fall as well?
Pairing: Taemin X Reader
Warning: Contains mentions of Abuse, Blood, Sexual, and Suggestive content, as well as some foul language. This material is only a work of fiction and does not mean to defame living persons.
Taglist: @slavefortaemin
The hood of your newly stolen yellow convertible was down and you felt the breeze of autumn as you drove through the back roads of Aureus and into the less reputable parts of town.
You had lived in New Celes for the majority of your life and while most of your childhood years were spent in the Underground as the daughter of the most infamous crime groupe known as the Scarlet Wolf who were known to possess the heightened senses of sound, speed, and strength, you’d left them only to climb yourself from the gutter and into posh society with your charm.
There was a reason New Celes was coined the City Of Heavenly Desire, it’s nightlife was vibrant and it’s nobility spared no expense, leaving the less fortunate to look on with jealousy as they wasted their wealth frivolously. You’d survive the only way you could. With a father who’d sooner leave you in the streets because you proved to be a weak runt according to the standards of the pack you left the gang and found yourself at your wits end. You would have died on your own had it not been for the Matron of Muldale Estate.
The streets had been dark and unforgiving with lights only at the most populated corners and filled with people of ill repute. The Matron had found you frozen and half dead but still filled with a spirit that would not be extinguished. She took you to her estate, clothed you and fed you and in time you came to know the girls who lived there.
The women of Muldale Estate were prostitutes, or as they liked to be called “courtesans.” Their Matron, Madame Felicity Dupont loved the sound of her own voice.
When the Matron asked you to stay long ago you had thought you’d known just what you were getting yourself into and you promised yourself that it was only a temporary home. Now fifteen years later you knew you weren’t the same naive girl you had been before. Love was a mirage of deception and endless hoops. Love was only given if you gave in return even if it cost you your body and not your heart.
Dupont showered her girls In pretty gowns and diamonds and sold them off to the highest bidder but at the end of the day when you couldn’t wash off the scent of your clients’ perfume, you felt more like a shadow than a human.
Andre de Valois, the man who owned the car you drove now had been sadistic and cruel but he was very influential to Dupont. His wealth alone financed a quarter of the Matron’s income and that would have been fine if not for the fact that he only ever choose you.
His possessive nature had grown so strong it frightened you and when he made it clear that he wanted Dupont to sign you away to an exclusive contract with him he was not pleased when you rejected him. Far from it.
He was always used to having his way and the evening had ended badly to say the least with you landing a punch to his jaw and fleeing out the door taking his keys with you. Now driving carelessly fast downtown with tears ruining your mascara it was no wonder to find you had hit something. Or was it someone? You frantically unfastened your seat belt and stepped out of the car shakily to find a man passed out in front of the car.
“Oh my god!” You said, rushing over to the man and turning him to the side to face you as you leaned down to check his pulse.
You let out a sigh of relief when you felt his breath against your cheek. His lithe body rising and falling as you rested your palm on his firm chest.
His features looked familiar somehow but you dismissed it from your mind as you agonized over the fact that his forehead was bleeding slightly and you were in the middle of an unwelcoming neighborhood with no license and a stolen vehicle. If this man pressed charges you were done for and it wasn’t for fear that you’d get locked up, but rather that you would be found and taken back that terrified you.
You took the end of your scarf in hand and started to clean the blood away, the man’s features becoming more noticeable as you moved his dark brown hair out of his eyes and all too soon you recognized the man before you as Lee Taemin, the idol of the Ten Rings Circus, more commonly known as the “Night Circus” and one of the wealthiest most well-known artists in New Celes.
Fate loved to play games with your soul it seemed and she had a twisted sense of humor.
If anyone could save you from Dupont’s dismissal and Andre’s rage it would be the unconscious man before you.
Just then Taemin started to stir and you gave him your most concerned expression. Wide eyes and red lips pursed in a frown. Your smudged mascara only adding to your look of distress.
“Are you alright?” You said gently, careful to keep your distance from him in case he lashed out but close enough to look him in the eyes.
You were surprised when warm brown eyes meet yours. You’d only seen those eyes in posters and magazines, he had always looked too stoic, too unapproachable to imagine ever meeting.
“I’m fine,” he said sitting up slowly and looking at your car inches from him.
You let out an audible sigh of relief that he hadn’t hit his head as badly as you’d initially thought.
“But what about you? Are you alright? You were in such a hurry. Are you running away from something?” He said with a knowing look in his eyes as he took in your disheveled appearance.
“No, it’s nothing.” You said brushing his words aside and getting to your feet. You felt a stab of guilt for wanting to use him as an easy escape moments before. Even though he was a complete stranger he was showing you compassion instead of anger, concern instead of annoyance.
Somehow you knew taking his hand would be alright, but when you reached for it a strong wind blew away the scarf you had carelessly replaced over your neck before he’d woken, revealing Andre’s fingerprints on your skin.
“How did you get that! Who did that to you?” He said in surprise, coming closer only to have you quickly move away out of habit as if he would strike you.
“It’s none of your business,” you said placing your hands around your shoulders protectively. He stepped back when he noticed you were uncomfortable and it genuinely touched you that he seemed to care. You’d grown used to seeing marks on your body, at this point, it was a part of life that faded just like a hundred nights worth of memories too painful to recollect.
Maybe it was the way he looked at you that made you confess these next words, maybe it was just your selfish greed that clung to you like a vise but you found yourself unable to continue your charade anymore. You were tired of pretending, and maybe just maybe, you could tell he had already fallen for the woman who had run him over.
“No, no I’m not fine.” You said sitting against the hood of the car and holding back tears. “I’m a courtesan of Muldale,” when he nodded in understanding you continued. “My client… well he won’t be seeing me anymore I left him and if the Madam found out I was leaving her service before my time she’ll have the officials come and find me. My client is very wealthy you see and she couldn’t stand to lose-”
“How far along are you on your Emblem till your debt is paid?” He said determination in his voice.
You looked up at him, eyes wide. Once again he’d surprised you. He seemed to be knowledgeable enough in the trade to know that the women of Muldale all had debts to pay to their Madame and that she kept count of their progress by marking them with a tattoo called an emblem. The emblem was of their own design choice from a limited selection but it was always along the back in a circle and once that circle was completed you were free to leave.
“I owe a life debt to her, my Emblem is less than halfway through.”
“I’ll pay it for you.” He said it so quickly that you were certain this had to be a dream.
“What do I owe you in return?” You answered just as quickly. You didn’t hide the distrust in your tone. “Nothing is free in this world.”
“You’re right,” he looked regretful of his next words but continued anyway. “If I pay for your Emblem will agree to pretend to be my fiancee?” You scoff, shaking your head but internally you are delighted. It would seem that your plan was going better than expected. You turned around and acted as if you were making your way back to the car before he stopped you with a light touch at the elbow.
“Hear me out-”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know it’s a crazy idea but I’m in a situation that I don't want to be in right now-
“Aren’t we all,” you said with a laugh.
“Yes, but I am constantly confronted with marriage proposals and one of these days I’m afraid the family I am indebted to will force me into an agreement.” He could have said anything else but this was the last thing you’d expected.
“You’re Lee Taemin, Shining Star of the Night Circus! If anyone had the power to say no it would be you.”
He ducked his head when you mentioned his title, red blooming on the tips of his ears. “The Night Circus is not what posters would have you believe,” He said. “You and I are more alike than you know. The things I’ve had to do to make my way to the top. I owe that family everything for bringing me from the gutter to the spotlight.”
His words cut like a fresh wound. Nothing in the glittering world of New Celes was ever what it appeared on the surface and if even it’s young gods walked their lives on burning coals well, nowhere was safe.
“I’ll do it.” You said.
“Really?” He gave you the widest smile and suddenly you wondered if being indebted to this beautiful man was more dangerous than belonging to Andre.
“What’s your name,” he said the instant you were both in the car. You started the engine and made the turn back to Muldale Estate. You were silent for a few minutes till you finally said in a whisper, “Call me Lady Basileia, everyone else does.” Like your old life, your true name had also been lost to you, and if you knew anything for certain it was the fact that there was no reclaiming it.
Dupont was furious. Andre’s wrath was nothing in comparison to the lady’s words. “I’ve clothed you, I took you in from the streets when you were nothing and this is how you repay me! Go back to the Comte de Valois and beg on your knees for him to take you back.” Dupont was about to grab you by the hair before Taemin grasped her wrist, holding her back. You’d told him to stay outside but it seemed you wouldn’t have an easy time getting him to listen.
“Mademoiselle Basileia will beg no one, Madame Dupont,” Taemin said from behind her. “She is a free woman from this day forward I will pay her Emblem price.”
A small collective gasp could be heard from the ladies who were listening in against the door-frame. Their palpable excitement grew hushed when Dupont swore at them.
Dupont laughed coldly before she said, “Young man, take your fanciful ideas elsewhere. You wouldn’t be able to buy a single night with her much less ten years wor-
Taemin faced her and she paled, her eyes widening as she too recognized him.
“I beg your pardon, my lord. I did not know-”
“Mademoiselle Basileia and I are in a hurry,” he said.
Dupont gaped at you before suddenly tripping over herself to call in for some tea. When Taemin declined her offer and suggested they get right to business and that he would pay her in full she directed him to her office and left you to collect your things.
Emilie was the first of the ladies to approach you. As soon as you sank into a tub of hot water she came to sit on the ledge and scrub your back with a sponge, her touch was gentle at the nape of your neck as she seemed to want to wash away William’s scars. “Is he kind to you? Lord Taemin, I mean. Or is he cold, like the pictures I’ve seen of him?” Just as you were about to answer the door flung open.
“Who cares Emilie!” Agatha said coming into the room with a stack of fresh towels. “He’s rich, richer than Andre. Only the best for Lady Basileia,” Agatha said, jealousy laced in her voice. “We could never compete with that.”
“Wealth is not everything Agatha!” Lily said coming into the room to join them, her cheeks were flushed and her buoyant voice ever-cheerful no matter her situation. If it hadn’t been for Lily and her optimism you thought you wouldn’t have survived your days here. Of everyone at Muldale, she was perhaps the only one who still believed in love and she was quite the romantic. Her imagination often kept the ladies entertained, and her short works of fiction were often shared at sleepless hours.
“I can’t believe you met the Ice Fairy by chance!” Lily said taking Emilie’s place beside you. “I saw him go into Madam’s office and he is even more handsome in person than his portraits. It was fate Basileia, fate! Did he see you with the Comte at his estate and decide that he had to have you for his own? Was he a friend of Andre? Or did he see you on the streets and you melted his heart of stone? They say he doesn’t have one you know, he’s turned down so many pretty women and of noble families too!”
“Well, I suppose you can say I ran him over…”
Later when you were dried off and in your bedroom, you searched through your things to find the plainest dress you could. Nothing here was your own and other than the handful of letters from the ladies and Emilie’s handmade bracelet as a gift on your twentieth birthday you left everything else and closed the door behind you.
Half an hour later you found yourself laying on your stomach in the tattoo parlor close to Muldale estate. You winced as the inked needle met your back again. The tattoo artist knew of the girls from their countless visits. When you had walked into the shop and declared that your entire Emblem be finished he’d been shocked but you could see the excitement in his eyes. Most girls picked the design for their emblem but you had let Eddie do whatever he wanted and as it turned out your back was his own personal masterpiece or that’s how he felt at least and you had to agree he didn’t waste his imagination when it came to his attention to detail.
Eddie turned the open sign around and started right away, completing his design in a total of five hours. Every second had been worth it though you thought as he held a mirror up to your back and you saw yourself in the mirror in front. A flower time dial was beautifully etched into your back, primroses, cherry blossoms, roses, and lilacs. They weren't in color but they seemed alive and each stroke of ink depicted an emotion, from how the petals tilted toward the imaginary sun to how they wilted.
“Thank you, Eddie, I love it.” He beamed at you and you felt the pride in him swell and his heart soar. Sometimes pain and pleasure really did walk hand in hand.
It was late the next day when you reached the heart of Aureus, at some point you had let Taemin drive the car he rented after he insisted that you leave Andre’s car at Muldale where Dupont could return it to him. The nightlife here was even more vibrant than you remembered. In fact, if you were being honest you knew nothing of the high-end brothels and drinking taverns of New Celes, only the pompous champagne-soaked floors of dancing halls that Andre and other clients had brought you too, hoping to seduce you with charm and sophistication. No, the Night Circus it seemed was something different, something in between. Your heart raced a bit more excitedly as you read the giant billboard up ahead Our Aim Is To Please You, it read in painted crimson letters, like blood upon the lily-white backdrop.
Taemin parked and took your hand to guide you through the crowd and into the enormous red tent. You could hear the music from within even from a distance, something akin to carnival music but more gentle. You could hear french horns and soft drums both haunting and sensuous.
Before opening the tent flap Taemin leaned down and whispered, “The show is about to start soon. Ten will have my hide if I’m not backstage soon so make yourself comfortable in the audience.” You nodded at him before he disappeared into the crowd.
It wasn’t long before the lights were dimmed and you squirmed in your seat as the young noblewoman beside you asked her manservant to attend her. She wore a diamond choker necklace at her throat and you caught the glint of silver on her left hand. The raven-haired manservant knelt at his mistress’s feet and lifted her skirts enough to engulf his head under. It wasn’t unusual for aristocracy to show their lewdness in public settings such as these. But you had to admit, you really hadn’t known anything about The Night Circus.
The noblewoman's soft moans were covered by the sound of the now more vivacious orchestra and as the curtains of the stage began to rise, you forgot all about her.
“Mesdames et messieurs,” the ringmaster bellowed. It was astonishing to see Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, more commonly known by the stage name of ‘Ten’ the ringmaster before you. He acquired the nickname when his family came into possession of the largest fortune in New Celes, taking over ten towns along the coast and placing circuses, hotels, and nightclubs in each of them. His family name was known as the “Gatsby of New Celes” and honestly half the continent. It was no wonder that Taemin had money practically spilling from his veins. With Ten as a benefactor he was set for life and you couldn't help but wonder why Taemin would want to risk the family’s anger by denying any marriage they set forth for him.
“Allow us to entertain you tonight under the canopy of the moon.” Ten continued, “let us seduce your mind and captivate your soul. May I present le cirque nocturne!” The crowd roared with applause and with a flick of the ringmaster’s whip, the opening act began.
A woman in a lilac leotard appeared on stage and moved her body in ways you hadn’t even known possible. Her contorted body seemed to tell a story, the music flowed without words but like a ballet, the woman moved with the melody. As more dancers appeared you began to make more sense of the plot. The story the woman danced to was of a siren who had lost her tail and moved upon land in odd yet graceful ways. She reminded you of a sparrow in a world of swans, awkward yet full of life. When the curtains closed on the act you stood in applause with the rest of the crowd.
Next was a pair of tightrope walkers, it was a woman and a man painted in makeup that made them look like cats with whiskers and all. The woman balanced a parasol in one hand and the man a cane with a larger than normal curved end. You realized why that was so when the man circled the cane around the woman’s waist and the audience gasped in wonder at the girl’s perfect balance as she made her way across the rope and into her lover’s arms.
The next set of dancers stood on swings as they twirled long ribbon batons in their hands and swept them over the crowds. Their short satin red dresses left little to the imagination as they entwined with each other and leaped through the air, catching one another by the wrists.
There were more acts that seemed to pass in a blur, jugglers and fire breathers. Your body grew heated with the number of people in the tent as you waited for Taemin’s performance and you became impatient till finally, Ten spoke again, “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the act you have all been waiting for, our ravishing, shining, hoop aerialist, Lee Taemin!”
If the crowd had made any noise till that moment it was nothing compared to the deafening cries now. But as the curtains began to rise once more, everyone fell silent as if they were all holding their breath underwater, ready to be swept away.
Taemin was a sight to behold it was true and you could feel your pulse quicken ever so slightly as you took in the transformation before you. The man you arrived with seemed to be buried within this immorally captivating creation. He wore a black top hat with a half net across one side of his face and a shimmering silver and midnight blue leotard with sheer sleeves and a low neckline. His angelic figure and fair collarbone a teasing sight amidst all the tiny glittering diamonds sewn onto the fabric. The diamonds seemed to dance with the lights in the tent as Taemin moved his hands upwards towards the hoop hanging above him.
He seemed to move with the music as you had never seen anyone move before. He was one with the melody like nature herself his gestures reminding you of water and wind. Once he reached the hoop his feet seemed to climb invisible stairs into the air till he was seated in the hoop and once more began to swivel and bend like falling water, tossing his hat aside as he went. His ankles caught the sides of the hoop as his head and body soared downwards. The transitions were seamless and watching the lithe muscles of his arms move as he grabbed the hoop and pulled himself up was hypnotic. You found yourself searching for his eyes and once they meet your own you felt yourself flush but were unable to look away.
You knew now why they called him the fey king of ice and lust, his coal lined sultry stare seemed to undress you with a glance alone. He spun around the hoop like a snake till he stood upon the inner circle and then, oh gods above, he began to sing. You didn’t understand the words but by his tone, you could feel it was a song of deep longing and yet fragility as if the thing he yearned for lay far out of his reach or lay dead beneath the earth. His voice was both angel and devil, sweet as nectar and fatal as flame. He swung over the heads of the audience as he sang, the rope seeming to lengthen and glide along with him. He showered the spectators with diamonds from his costume as they loosened and fell like rain upon them. The audience’s applause spread through the crowd like wildfire and Taemin took a final bow before the curtains closed for the night and adoring fans threw roses and even entire bouquets to the empty stage as the lights in the tent brightened once again.
Without a second thought, you hurried from your seat and slipped backstage determined to find Taemin and congratulate him on such a wonderful performance expecting to find him surrounded by fellow performers but instead, you found him backed against the wall, Ten’s arms caging him in with one hand beside his head and his whip in the other. You hid quickly behind a stage prop of what looked like an ancient Greek pillar, eyes widening as Ten tilted Taemin’s chin up with the tip of his whip, his eyes never leaving Taemin’s defiant gaze.
“You needn't go through all this trouble over a harlot, mon tresor.” Ten said tracing his fingers against Taemin’s back. Taemin pulled away from his touch and Ten drew his hand away.
“Others may mistake her for a fine noblewoman but you forget I have eyes everywhere, even in the lowest gutter of town. Why won’t you accept my offer? You could have so much more than this life, you would be a demigod among men with what I could give you.” Ten said taking Taemin’s hand to his lips and kissing his knuckles.
“I’ve already visited the press with news of my new fiancee, Ten.” You won’t be able to quiet our engagement easily without causing a scene and disrupting your father’s trust. I am your family’s humble servant and nothing more.” Taemin said in a cold tone as he slipped from Ten’s grasp and into the changing room.
Your mind was muddled with questions as you made your way back to the crowd unseen and waited for Taemin to find you.
It wasn’t long before you found yourself on the 20th floor of one of New Celes’s finest hotels run by Ten’s family of course. Taemin had a total of twelve rooms that all connected to one another. He led you to what you assumed was the guest room. The sheets were silk and there was a mahogany dresser with a beautiful matching vanity in the corner of the room, the edges of its mirror rimmed with gold. You moved to the window, moving the heavy curtains aside to take in the bustling night view of New Celes. You had to admit this offer was the best you’d ever had, although you felt a small stab of guilt for using Taemin in this way you found solace in the fact that he was also using you to run away from his own problems. “Wait,” you said, as Taemin walked toward the door to leave. He halted outside your door, his hand hovering over the doorknob.
“Why did you lie to me?” You said turning from the window to face him. He looked puzzled at the statement so you continued. “I saw you with Ten, he seemed sincere, like he would give you anything if you agreed to be with him. Why would you refuse that?”
Taemin’s eyes darkened and he said briskly, “Don’t speak of what you do not understand.”
“It wasn’t a horde of girls I came here to shield you from but his advances wasn’t it.” You said coming closer, your voice matching his tone. “You think his obsession with you is a passing fancy? That he’ll soon tire of you with me around I gather or are you trying to make him jealous? What, is he not good enough for you? I know men and women would kill to have the place you have in his eyes. I won’t stay here and be put in danger! I won’t stand between the Chittaphon family and their desires, it would be like tying a noose around my own neck. Stop being stubborn and go to him-”
“Enough!” Taemin said shutting the door and coming to stand closer to you. “I’ll never crawl to that sick bastard even if he held a gun to my head.”
A look of pity crossed your features as you said, “Well if his being a man is what disgusts you so its nothing to be ashamed of. I once had a patron that was a woman-”
“That’s not the reason at all,” Taemin said interrupting you. His voice was composed once again and he seemed hesitant but continued. “You must tell no one you know of this but it’s Ten’s bloodstained hands and dirty money that disgusts me.”
Your eyes widened as you sat on the edge of the bed and waited for him to continue.
“All this wealth you see around you has come at a heavy price, the Chittaphon family have sold their souls for this luxury, the deaths of so many lay in their hands. The family makes most of their money in human trafficking and other despicable things. Ten is just as corrupt if not more so than his family. A flicker of sorrow crossed his eyes and then it was gone, replaced by ice once more. “We grew up together, it was no secret that we grew close to one another, I grew to love him and through the years I have seen him grow more and more twisted.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” You said a bit shaken at the realization that he knew some of your pain as well, knew how it felt to be shattered by the people you trusted the most. If your father had been a real father, if Andre had been an honorable man, you wouldn’t be here now seeking to console the dancer before you with an earnest hug. It would be hard to sleep in these sheets without thinking of the malicious lengths the owners had gone through to accumulate their wealth and it made your stomach turn.
Perhaps it was the wine you drank before falling asleep but your dreams were persistently vivid. A russet wolf stalked you, it wasn’t hostile but it pursued you with relentless abandon. It never left your side, whenever you looked over your shoulder there it was yet you were not frightened. You were not frightened that was, until its scarlet eyes met yours, sending you a rush of memories you wished would stay buried. You woke with a scream on your lips, your throat felt dry and your hair damp with sweat.
You slid from the bed and opened the mini-fridge in the small kitchenette of your room. Drinking an entire bottle of water and wiping your forehead with a cloth before slipping out of the room and into the master suite. Taemin’s room was right beside yours and you didn’t believe that was a mere coincidence. A candle was lit on the bedside table and you were greeted by his soft even breathing as you made your way to the enormous bed and climbed in beside him careful not to touch him. If it was a fiancee he had bargained for then it was one he would get. You turned your face away from his back and settled in to sleep but your eyes opened wide once more when you felt Taemin’s hand wrap around your shoulder in a gentle embrace as he turned to face your back and fell asleep once more. So maybe he had heard you awaken from your nightmare earlier you thought as your eyes grew heavy again and you fell asleep to the warmth of his touch and the thud of your heart.
You blinked as sunlight greeted you and you stretched, opening your eyes wider as you felt the absence of heat beside you and an empty pillow, your hands grazing over the indent in the fabric. Taemin was gone already, must have been since early this morning but his distinct scent still lingered, a combination of sweet oranges and heady cinnamon spice. You met the cold wooden floorboards against your bare feet with a groan as you made your way to the bathroom but a small young woman stopped you as you made your way to the tub.
“My name is Marguerite,” she said with a small curtsy. “Lord Taemin asked me to see to your needs m’lady. What minerals would you like in your bath?”
“Oh, anything you like Marguerite I don’t mind truly.” You said moving out of her way so she could toss a few veils of lovely smelling soaps into the tub as she turned the hot water on.
“How long have you been in Lord Taemin’s services?” You asked curiously.
“Today is my first day m’lady, his lordship doesn’t keep many servants. Just the occasional cleaning maid. I expect he figured you’d be needing a handmaid.”
You nodded at this, touched that he’d thought so far ahead as to hire the girl already. You made a mental note to thank him later as you dipped into the warm water and watched the colorful bubbles that clung to your chest.
The hotel breakfast was divine of course. Everything about the hotel was exquisite and filled with every out of season delicacy you could imagine. Grabbing an extra candied pear before you left the breakfast hall you decided to explore the grand hotel further. You made your way in and out of passageways and lobbies with sitting rooms and expensive carpets. But you wondered where the reception room for weddings and banquets must be.
A hotel like this would have quite a few of them and sure enough, you came to a door that seemed close to the gardens. On the archway was a plaque that read Hall of Mirrors, you smiled at that. Of course, anyone who ran a circus would decide it a fitting name. You opened the heavy doors carefully and shut it behind you. Your eyes widened at the sight before you, you had never seen such wealth in one room alone. The hall was bathed in light, the sun shown through the many-windowed arches and reflected on the arches of mirrors just across. There were so many mirrors, more than three hundred if you could guess. the arches and walls all gleamed with their polished golden frames and elaborate craftsmanship. There were even mirrors that looked as if they belonged in a funhouse with odd shapes to them that disfigured your reflection. But most of them were tall and elegant.
There was so much glass in the room you felt afraid to touch anything at all. Glass chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling and you wondered at the poor servant who lit the small white candles. This room in all its opulence reminded you of the photographs you’d seen of Versailles. This entire room was a show of power. You moved closer to the marble statue of what looked like Apollo riding his sun chariot. You ran the tip of your finger along the small stallions manes, fascinated by their detail.
“My father thinks himself a god, Mademoiselle.” The voice startled you so that when you moved to turn around you’d cut yourself on one of the stallions sharply pointed ears. You stuck the pricked finger in your mouth to wipe away the blood as you stared at Ten before you. He looked straight through you at the statue before continuing, “Did you know there are eighteen figures alone in this hotel of Apollo? On fountains and vases.” He shook his head. “My father, the sun-god of business and opportunity.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have pried into your rooms.” You said, eager to getaway. I enjoyed the performance last night, it's a pleasure to meet you in person. My name is-”
“I know who you are Lady Basileia, the papers cannot help but jump at the chance to announce your presence.”
“This banquet hall is very exquisite, do you hold weddings here?” Your heartbeat raced nervously but you kept a smile plastered on your face. Maybe if he bored of your small talk he’d excuse himself or throw you out even.
“Why do you wish to know?” He said, looking at you as if for the first time. “Would you like to hold your wedding here?” Ten smiled in a mocking sort of way and he looked at you as if you were nothing but filth dragged in. “I’m afraid this sort of lavishness makes Taemin uncomfortable, there is no way your groom to be would agree to such a location. A pity really that such a humble man must deal with a fortune-hunting wench like you.”
You didn’t dare break his gaze as you said, “If you’ll excuse me my fiance is waiting for me. I hope that our next meeting will be more pleasant. You gave him a small dignified curtsy and exited the room careful to walk entirely around him. You found your breath again only after you were a safe distance away from the hall and out of the hotel.
You made your way to the red tent hoping to find Taemin and ask him to take you out to the city. You just needed to go anywhere else to get your mind off of your encounter and shopping was the perfect distraction. If all you were good for was spending money then you would do just that you thought bitterly. Ten had frightened you with his smile, the way his face seemed bright and youthful but his spirit dark in ways you didn’t want to imagine. He reminded you of Andre, the way he brought you down and made you feel as if you were truly nothing.
You still wore the only dress you owned and just because of Ten’s family dealings you weren’t going to stop yourself from using his money. The more you could spend before Taemin all of a sudden decided he’d had enough of his life here and was ready to flee his position in the circus the better. You didn’t plan on leaving with him if he did. You’d already left everything behind once in your life and being penniless again was not an idea you fancied. If you played your part well there wasn’t a soul besides Ten who would doubt your sincerity and that was payment enough in your mind. Taemin had given you a perfect opportunity to mingle with the highest of aristocracy here each night at the red tent and you weren’t going to pass up the chance to make some money of your own for your own sense of security.
Trusting anyone and being indebted for life to anyone scared the hell out of you and even though Taemin seemed like some star-crossed spirit no matter how hard you tried to push the thought aside you weren’t about to trust in his motives anytime soon. The more his soul tugged at yours and the more your heart softened as you experienced his pain. When you spoke last night together it had frightened you and it did not change the fact that he was just human. A beautiful godlike figure but mortal nonetheless and people were prone to deception.
You weren’t beyond using him as Ten had blatantly said, a deal was a deal after all and with every lingering touch and glance it was growing harder to ignore. As long as he didn’t muddle your interest in carnal pleasures for love you weren’t against it. In fact, it would probably be bliss to meet a passion so intense that it would make you forget Andre and his months of torment. A welcome distraction before parting ways in the future.
Ducking under the tent flap you spotted Taemin immediately. He was impossible to miss, sitting center-stage in a gilded birdcage that took up almost the entire stage. He sat on the swing hanging down from the top of his golden prison like some exotic bird in a royal menagerie. You could imagine how extravagant the costuming would be that night for the show, A spectral of colorful feathers and brightly painted eyelids but you found a pleasurable peace in watching him with practice gear, the white full-bodied leotard hugging every curve of his body.
His voice was sweeter than any birdsong and you found yourself inexorably drawn to him as you went to sit in the front row to watch. This time his song told the story of fame and loss. Of a being so popular his lifeblood existed on stage. It was like listening to Taemin’s deepest worries while learning all at once that he wouldn’t give all of this up for anything. It seemed that you had misjudged him, he wasn’t a prisoner to this circus but a slave to himself and his never-ceasing desire to give his all in every performance, even in one like this that was just for practice. He may have started down this path because of his need and Ten’s family but his heart was also here and with his fans as if this was what he was born to do. When he finished singing you cheered louder than you had before, making up for the empty seats. He smiled at you and ducked as the other performers lifted the cage enough for him to slip under.
“You're just in time my love,” He said extending a hand to you and pulling you onstage. “I’d like to introduce you to my family.” It was clear that by family he meant the other performers. They gathered around you with curiosity as he said, “Everyone, this is my fiancee Mademoiselle Basileia that I have spoken to you of.” You nodded at them all in turn with a smile before they began to ask questions that you knew were coming.
“Taem says you saved him! Is that true My Lady?” Said Valerie whom you remembered as the contortionist siren who had the opening act of the circus. Before you could answer a small middle-aged woman that you remembered faintly from the sidelines yesterday came bustling from backstage shouting, “Goddess be praised ye finally brought the lass over! I thought you would hide her away till the masquerade. The woman placed a glass of ice water in Taemin’s hands and kissed you on the cheeks.
“This is Madame Orla,” Taemin said.
“But you may call me Mother Orla,” she said taking your hand in her own. “Taemin, Yule is in less than two weeks, aren't ye going to take your future bride and buy her a gown for the ball. You know how ruffled the merchants get when you don’t give them dew notice! She’ll end up wearing some premade ill-fitting thing. She said in a chastising voice filled with love and amusement.
It suddenly struck you that this Yule ball was not just any Winter Solstice gathering but rather the ball. The Chittaphons threw elaborate parties all year that was to be sure but their annual Yule Masquerade ball held in their own manor was unlike any other. It was almost magical in its limited guest list and famed extravagance and after your visit to the Hall of Mirrors, your mind could scarcely wrap around the idea of what their manor would look like. It was one of Lily’s favorite pastimes to write about one or all of the girls at Muldale attending, like Cinderella appearing at the palace. It hadn’t even occurred to you that you were now invited as Taemin’s fiancee to the event.
“Mother Orla, why don’t you give her a proper Sibylline greeting while I change. Taemin said kissing your forehead and further solidifying the ‘couple’ myth as the dancers tittered at his small show of affection. “Mother Orla is a seer,” He whispered into your ear before walking backstage.
You didn’t believe in fortune-telling, it was all a play of lucky guesses and pretty lies that the client wanted to hear but you pushed these thoughts aside and decided to indulge Orla as she lead you with her to sit in a small round table backstage.
“I read palms,” Orla said. “In palmistry, the lines of your passive hand signifies what you were born with and the attributes the gods have given you while your dominant hand signifies what you have done with that potential and the choices you choose to make. May I?” She said gesturing to your dominant hand. You gave it to her gingerly, your palm faced up and resting in her gentle hands as she skidded her fingers along yours and studied the line that rested at the top of your palm and ended under your pinky finger.
“Well, your heart line starts below your middle finger. This suggests that you are a leader who is independent and you have a keen sense of intellect. However, this intelligence indicates that you combine romance with rationality and careful calculation.” She frowned before continuing, “ You are selfish with your love and quite materialistic, you are not happy unless you control your surroundings and this leads you to act coldly towards others.” Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, a bit taken aback by the honesty of her words. “See the way your love line is forked with indecision form your brain and heart at war with each other?” You nodded, actually agreeing with her on this point. Love was illogical to you and suffocating, it made you feel trapped. “Yet your heart longs for freedom as well, perhaps from your past, you are much like a lone she-wolf lass, stubborn as a mule but hungry for passion. If you aren’t careful your stubbornness will devour you and lead to the capture of your free spirit, found by the hunter that you fear.” You shuttered then at the comparison as you remembered the wolf in your nightmare. Perhaps the wolf was you and the hunter in this fable your father, the connection was clear and unavoidable.
Orla moved on, paying attention to the line that ran down the center of your palm. “You may find this news more promising. Your Fate Line shows your talent in creating relationships even if they are imbalanced by personal gain. You will have someone faithful to you, a helpmate to strengthen your personal ties and belief in trust. But be warned, if you remain distrustful your life will be a lonely path indeed.” Orla said, utter seriousness in her tone. You pulled your hand away not looking her in the eye.
“Well, what do the stars say of our love Orla?” Taemin said as he came towards them dressed in plaid red pants, black boots, and a black and white jacket that somehow fit together marvelously.
“It was by fate that your soul encountered hers, I believe you will be her salvation if trust blooms and she your downfall should it crumble,” Orla told him solemnly.
Taemin took your arm and entwined it with his. “Thank you for the reading Orla,” Taemin said brushing aside her grim account with a sideways smile. “But I believe Basileia and I have a way of steering fate in our favor.” You bowed your head as a thank you for the reading and left the tent with him. You didn’t turn around even as you felt Orla’s eyes pierced your back.
It was a short drive into the bustling city. The heart of New Celes was alight with Yuletide celebration. Trees were decorated in colored lights and wreaths were hung in every shop. Taemin brought you to a woman’s clothing store filled with elaborate day gowns and business slacks, helping you pick out a few and waiting by the fitting room as you tried on the ones you liked. You modeled a few for him, spinning around in slow circles as he watched the way the fabric cascaded down your legs and hugged your hips.
He found a pair of gold-rimmed heels and knelt to the floor, you lifted your skirt and he slipped them onto your feet, avoiding contact as he did so. Watching his gentle hands against the heel brought a pang of annoyance to your chest. He was so careful with you, so distant, so cold.
“I believe these will be perfect for the masked ball,” Taemin said rising from the floor. You nodded and turned away to head back to the fitting room, your cheeks felt hot and you were ready to take the damn long dress off. You didn’t like the way it dragged across the floor no sooner had you thought it then you tripped over the fabric and tumbled off the mirrored platform. He was there in an instant, catching you by the shoulders and breaking your fall. You looked up at him, his face closer than it ever had been, even in sleep he’d kept at a distance. But now you felt his chest against yours, the beat of his heart one with the rise and fall of your breasts and his warm hands against your skin. His eyes met yours and yet you were the first to break the stare. “Thank you.” You straightened and he released you.
“I’ll be next door fitting for my Yule costume,” he said. “It's best if we surprise each other though most couples like to match but I believe I’ll let fate decide this one.” His eyes were back to that blank lazy submission, any sparkle of openness lost as he turned and made his way towards the front of the store.
It didn’t take you long to choose a Yuletide costume. You simply thought of what Lily would have chosen and the decision was done. You had to admit the symbolism of such a costume would be lost on no one and it gave you a thrill to think of it.
“And whom should I put the dress under for pickup My Lady? The seamstress said as she marked down the measurements of your waist, neckline, and shoulders into a massive book of orders.
“You may put it under my name Madame Escoffier,” Taemin said as he came into the shop again with several bags. “I haven't seen you in months ma fée,” The woman said sweetly coming to kiss his cheeks.” Her fairy indeed you thought, marveling at his jovial demeanor and quick smiles. It was a gift he seemed to possess, he influenced the aura around him either radiating cold magnetic charm or sunshine that no one could escape.
“You tell Orla I’m waiting for a visit soon.” Madame Escoffier said as you walked out of her shop. Taemin grabbed the bags and assured the lady he would.
Next, Taemin took you to a small antique shop on the end on the street. The store was filled with old-fashioned bonnets expensive fishing rods and pendants. In the jewelry case, you found many pieces of faux earrings and necklaces and you wondered why they warranted the extra protection till your eyes fell upon a pearl necklace. Even if it was a fake you had to admit that the clasp and the sheen of glossy pearls were beautiful. “That one, I’ll take it,” Taemin said to the clerk when he saw you looking at the necklace. “You’ll need something old for the wedding won’t you?” He said with a conspiratorial laugh as he fastened the pearls around your neck.
“Thank you,” you said somehow touched at this least extravagant gift than all the rest today.
“Anything for my enchanting bride to be.” He said loudly enough for the clerk to hear. Taemin offered you a hand as you exited into the frosty streets and you took it gladly. It had gotten considerably colder and just when you were about to ask Taemin to hand you the new blue coat you had bought, a man with a tattooed shoulder of a vibrant rose-red she-wolf moved past. You clutched your own shoulder and shivered but not from the cold as you remembered the design of the tattoo all too well. The absence of the Scarlet Wolf Groupe resurfaced in your mind like a brand. You remembered the day long ago when you had burned it off your skin with the candle wax on your bedside table. The horror on Madame Dupont’s face when she’d found your scar was soon mended with makeup and lacy shoulder bands till the scars grew less apparent than a birthmark.
Taemin hadn't missed the look of fear that crossed your face as the man walked past. Of course, he never missed anything, you thought as you made your face blank and continued to make your way to the car. Once inside Taemin didn’t spare a minute before he said, “It’s growing more and more perilous each night in New Celes. You would think the Chittaphons would be a little more subtle about where their alliances lie. He said revving the engine.
Your head whipped toward his. “What do you mean his ally?”
“Just what I said, the Scarlet Wolf is a long-time friend of the family. They do the Chittaphon’s dirty work like the dogs they are.” Taemin said, a look of disgust marring his perfect features and sending ice toward your veins.
“It's an insane idea even for Ten to invite such mongrels to the masquerade under the guise of a truce. The Chittaphon’s seek “peace” with the beasts for the people of New Celes and wish to end their reign but it’s all a ploy to lure in the Alpha and assert their command. The leader of that rabid pack gets their money from someone we know.”
Your face paled and you couldn’t hide the panic in your voice as you said: “The Alpha is coming to the Yule Ball?”
“Yes, but don’t worry he’s not the chatty sort, he said with worry as he took his eyes off the road to assess you. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost, Lady Basileia.” He didn’t know how right he was. You remained silent for the rest of the ride back to the hotel.
You wanted to tell Taemin you couldn’t attend the ball but every time you did your words faltered. Going to the ball wasn’t just about you, it was for Taemin, it was for the entire scheme you had agreed to. Without your presence, it would be a nightmare for him and you would be entirely responsible. Your own voice nagged at you that it wasn’t Taemin’s safety you worried for but your own.
Telling anyone you were the daughter to the Alpha of the Scarlet Wolf would make you a bargaining chip and a dangerous one. You didn’t want to think about what Ten could do, what leverage he would gain if you were discovered. The brand on your shoulder burned again, as if alive, tying you to your past like a collar. There was no love lost between you and your father that was certain, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t want you back now. As a child you posed less of a threat, he probably thought you dead. But now if he ever knew you were still alive he would be afraid of the pack secrets you could reveal, the names you could sell and he would hunt you down without remorse.
It was a masquerade after all, a festival of hidden faces and fluttering fans with a father you haven't seen in over fifteen years. He would not recognize you. And yet even with all of these excuses in your mind, your guilt ate away at you and the string of pearls Taemin had given you seemed to constrict around your neck in reminder.
Your loud thoughts were easier to dispel in the daytime but when night fell and you found yourself seeking the quiet comfort of Taemin’s company beside yours it grew harder and harder to remain silent and even more willpower to stay still. When you heard his breathing even out into a blissful sleep some nights you would turn over and look at his peaceful face- or what you could see of it from the dim bedside candlelight. Every fiber of your being craved contact. It was as if an insatiable fire had grown alight inside you,
Your fingers ached to trace the bridge of his nose from forehead to the unique dip of his lip. But you didn’t. You lay your head upon the pillow and fell away to darkness even as your body felt aflame in its own perpetual inferno.
As the days grew closer and closer to the festival you’d had enough. You spent your nights in your own room, or else wear. You gathered money from new clients and disguised yourself with makeup and washable hair dyes. It was after the fifth night of going on in this fashion that you found Taemin in your room. It was four in the morning and you’d decided to leave your client asleep in his bed, helping yourself to a bottle of Champagne as you left. You hadn’t drunk much at all but when you saw Taemin leaning against the mantle of the fireplace as you entered your chambers you wished you had.
You set the bottle on your bedside table carefully, not meeting his eyes.
“You’re back,” he said the obvious with a thinly laced veil of anger he was trying so desperately to conceal. “You shouldn’t be out at this hour, the Scarlet Wolf patrols are always about at night-”
“Who are you to say when I should or shouldn’t be out, are you my keeper? Do you think I will owe you forever.” You said placing cash on the table beside him and pushing it toward him. “Here is a week’s worth, I’ll pay off my emblem slowly but it will be done.”
“I never asked you to pay me back! I only asked you to keep up our agreement. His voice grew louder now as he took in your wrinkled gown and the stockings you’d draped across your arm.
“Why don’t you just say what we both know is really on your mind.” You said, your voice growing heated as well. Your head felt as if it would burst and your feet were near freezing. “It hurts your pride that as your fiancee I was out hell knows where and with whom in the dead of night am I right?”
“Yes, It does bother me! I didn’t only make this arrangement for me Basileia.” He said coming closer. The light of the fire only added to the fervor in his eyes as he reached for you. One warm hand against your frigid collarbone. He pulled at the string of pearls around your neck till he found the clasp and set it loose, they fell to the floor with a clatter. His eyes meet yours as he said, “Is this Champagne life of luxuries all you desire? It bothers me to have you sleeping in another man’s bed with the present I gave you around your neck.”
You stood so still you could hardly breathe. The passion in his eyes was frightening but not in the perilous way you were used to. Taemin’s hand across your skin wasn’t suffocating as Andre’s would be if anything you wanted him to pull you closer. His eyes were filled with a word you dared not say, it was sweeter than lust, more consuming than meer obsession. And so you dangled it before you like a token in your mind. It was love; bold, bright, and hopeful, dancing in his irises like tongues of fire. “I thought..” His voice was a broken whisper now. “I thought you would be happier here.”
You were happier here with him. Happier than any time in your life. But to stay? To make the lie between you real?
“I sometimes forget this is a lie.” You said softly, motioning between yourself and him. “When you touch me I forget myself.”
He smiled then as if you had given him the world. He leaned in and whispered against your ear, “Then why not make this our reality, why pretend when we both want this? He took your hands in his “Or am I not enough?”
“You are more than enough, Taemin.” You said bringing his hands to your lips. “You’ve made me care like I never thought I could. You saw worth in me even when I looked upon myself in shame. And I will always be grateful to you but because of who I am I cannot stay in one place for long or dare to love someone.”
He extricated himself from your hands, a mask of ice was forming once more across his features, shielding his emotions away and in that moment you knew that if you didn’t tell him the truth you would lose him forever and that frightened you more than his love.
“My father is the leader of the Scarlet Wolf, Taemin. I can’t allow him to notice me if I stay too long.” His eyes widened, the shock melting his indifference. “I could never be a part of them and because I severed the ties between us he will certainly want me back if he finds I’m alive.
“Is that why you stayed at Muldale? Did you feel you had to atone for your father’s mistakes by selling yourself?” His voice wasn’t laced with pity or animosity, he looked as if he truly wanted to know. It was honestly a question you had asked yourself many times.
“No,” you said finally and he seemed a bit relieved by the answer. “My father’s sins, the Alpha’s sins, are his own. I only wanted to make a life apart from his and I made it in the best way I believed I could given my situation.”
He nodded at this, seeming satisfied that you weren't running yourself to the ground out of some twisted obligation to erase the Alpha’s blood from your veins.
“I do care for you,” You said with much more conviction this time. The words tumbled out awkwardly but that didn’t make them any less true. You felt it needed to be said aloud, if not for you then for him. For the man before you who wore his heart on his sleeve in your presence. “I want you, more than I have ever wanted anything in my life.” You said, and a look of hopeful bliss crossed his features once more. He wrapped you into his embrace, his chin resting on your head as he played with the ends of your hair.
“And I suppose you were going to wait till after the masquerade when you finished dancing with death to tell me all this?” He sounded worried and so you reassured him with the same phrases you'd kept telling yourself over and over.
“He won’t recognize me, it’s been so many years.”
“It’s a bad idea, I can make up some excuse for not attending. If we go every eye will be on you. Our story is quite the talk in city gossip as it is.”
“All the more reason we must go. I won't sabotage your plans to show ourselves as a couple. Besides, the best way to hide is right under the Alpha’s nose.”
The inside of your gown scratched a bit against your skin but you had to admit it was worth it. The dress clung to your body perfectly and yet the bodice was breathable. The midnight-blue fabric swayed as you walked and the little golden stars, suns, and crescent moons sewn onto the shimmering canopy layer glowed just as brightly as the mask you wore. It was a simple mask, shaped like a butterfly.
A delicate pair of gossamer wings attached to the back of your gown and seemed to merge with your back. The wings were stunning enough that they had taken your breath away when the costume had arrived wrapped carefully in parchment in the hands of Marguerite. The girl pinned tiny flower clips into your hair and as you gazed into the long mirror in your room now you found an ethereal Faerie Queen stared back. At a light knocking on the door you turned from your reflection to open it and it was then that your heart truly caught in your throat.
Taemin had dyed his hair to a light white-blonde shade. Clips of hair the same hue cascaded down his shoulders. His eyes twinkled mischievously through the golden mask that covered half of his upper face. Golden antlers grew from the top of his mask with flowers growing from their tips and on his forehead was a crown made of leaves. His ears were pointed and a pair of wings also graced his back. A green velvet cape matched the single opera glove on his left hand as well as his pants. The ruffled white shirt with golden buttons closed to the collar granted him an air of nobility. You let out a wide smile at his choice of costume.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance Lord Oberon, King of the Forest.” You curtsied slightly and he followed your example with a smile and bow of his own.
“Likewise fair Queen Mab, Lady of Air and Darkness.” He said. Taking your hand into his gloved one and kissing the back of it.
“How in blazes did you know I would dress up as the Faerie queen of the Winter Court.” You asked him, only a little annoyed that he’d peeked at your costume.
“I didn’t I swear. Fate is really in our favor.”
“Or the Fates are against us!” you said with a laugh. “Your queen Titania is not one to be double-crossed. You’re the King of the Summer Court and a Seelie at that! However would our love survive?”
“Opposites attract My Lady, you are as lovely and cold as snow. I cannot bear to part with you. Where others may say the Unseelie bring nothing but misfortune, I see beauty in those icy veins and a heart that beats as rapidly as mine own.”
You lose it then, doubling over in laughter. “You are quite good at this.”
“I was born to appear on stage, are you really all that surprised.”
“Before we go would you help me with something.” You said, moving towards the vanity and taking the string of pearls you placed in his palm before moving your hair away from the nape of your neck. He fastened it, his hands lingering on your skin a moment longer and then he extended his elbow. You took it, entwining your arm in his. When you looked toward him you felt the rampant wave of emotions that radiated from him as he took in the pearls across your throat and your painted plum-colored lips so near yet not near enough.
When you arrived at the Chittaphon Manor you were greeted by several footmen waiting at the door. Once inside you craned your neck up to look at the high ceilings covered in paintings as you walked upon the red-carpeted marble floors. The ballroom was filled with diamond chandeliers and scented red candles that smelled of cinnamon. There were so many people dancing to the vivacious orchestra and they were all hidden under masks, even the musicians themselves were in costume. Servants bustled about in black suits and dresses with the masks of ravens carrying trays of champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries.
Your descent from the grand staircase had not gone unnoticed and Taemin squeezed your hand to reassure you as many eyes turned to watch you both. In spite of (or rather because of) his costume there was no mistaking Taemin or his companion. The crowd murmured as you passed and you supposed the sight of Taemin attending any party with a woman would stir up this much gossip and jealous eyes. Taemin didn’t ignore their gazes, he smiled politely as always and pulled you toward the center of the room and towards the company of your host.
You noticed Ten before he did. He was dressed in a fox mask and a red suit, looking ever the part of a depraved demon you thought. His eyes then fell upon Taemin and flicked to you. He said nothing, assessing your costume head to toe before saying, “Ah it would seem you have switched places. Forgive me but as everyone here can attest, myself included, if there were ever a faerie tyrant too bold and in possession of a stone heart it would be your prized husband-to-be mademoiselle.” Ten bowed and extended his hand, you gave him yours reluctantly but with so many eyes upon you, it was impossible to refuse him. You smiled, determined to keep your cheerful demeanor.
“I am glad we should meet again at last, Lady Basileia, though I find it a shame you did not come dressed as Hestia, or some other hearth maiden as you bring so many men warmth on these frigid winter nights.” Ten’s eyes twinkled in amusement and the meaning of his words was not lost upon you as you heard Taemin clear his throat beside you.
“And where are the rest of our hosts this evening, It would be a shame for Lady Basileia to miss them,” Taemin said.
“Mother and Father tire of these festivities easily.” Ten said, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing tray and taking a sip. “They retreated to the gambling tables as soon as the music began.”
“Young Master, I believe your guest has arrived.” Said a servant in a crow mask to Ten who then excused himself.
“I’m afraid Ten knows far too much about your whereabouts,” Taemin whispered with one hand at the small of your back, guiding you through the dance floor and closer to the orchestra and swaying figures that brushed you by.
“But he couldn’t know about anything before Madame Dupont’s, Taemin. Even the Madame herself knew nothing of where I came from.”
Just then Ten appeared in the corner of your eye again. He watched the two of you and the weight of resentment you felt from his gaze was enough to make you act rashly. If he did know anything of your past it was better to lure the truth out. Better the devil you know than die of ignorance too late.
When Taemin grabbed a chocolate-covered strawberry passing on a tray you took his hand before he could eat it and moved his fingers to your mouth. The plum-colored lips that had so hypnotized Taemin before now took the fruit along with two of his fingers. Your tongue left not a trace of chocolate behind as the warmth of your mouth enveloped him and he thought he would lose his sanity as you moved closer, taking him in farther.
“What are you doing,” Taemin hissed. His voice was shaken and you gleamed triumphantly as you released him.
“Merely speeding up our reluctant enemy.” You said as you searched for Ten again amid the crowd.
He was still watching, but his gaze had turned even darker and beside him stood a man that hadn’t been there before. It was Ten’s Guest who towered beside him and he was wearing a wolf mask. Leon Sauvage, the Alpha, stood ever too close to Ten like a familiar and comfortable lapdog. You turned your gaze away immediately.
“Let’s dance,” you said. Wrapping your arms around Taemin’s shoulder and pulling him closer as if it would shield you from the Alpha’s eyes.
After a few dances, you began to feel more at ease and relaxed into Taemin’s arms allowing the music to envelop you both into a bubble of happiness that you hadn’t known had been busting inside of you. Under different circumstances, at a different party, you would have been wholly engulfed in his company.
The twist in your stomach returned all too soon however when Ten appeared behind Taemin and tapped him on the shoulder. “May I have a dance with the ravishing Queen Mab.” Ten said. When Taemin didn’t pull away from you he leaned in and said to Taemin, “It was so kind of you mon amour to decide to sing for us, truly more than I expected.”
Taemin paled at this and Ten only smirked as one of the servants announced loudly to the assembly, “And now I present Lord Lee Taemin, who will grace us with ‘Bird in a Gilded Cage’.”
“Go on, I do believe they are calling you. You wouldn't want to make a scene,” Ten said.
You nodded at Taemin to go and squeezed his hand in reassurance that you would be alright without him as he threw daggers with his eyes at Ten and walked toward the front of the crowd. When Taemin started to sing the ironically dark and sorrowful melody of a woman who wasted her youth on a man of fortune. Ten began to whirl you around the room looking ever the part of a gentleman to his many guests. But his grip on your waist and hand was like a vise.
“You’re like a dime,” you said when you couldn’t bear the silence any longer. “Two-faced, and not worth my time.” He laughed at that, it was a strange laugh like none you’d ever heard. It was boyish in its charm almost innocent even though his eyes were anything but. Still, the wide smile and flashing of teeth had caught you off guard once again. He held an air of pure calculation. Everything about him was deliberate, meticulous, dangerous and beautiful in its ferality.
“Quite the handful aren't you, it's no wonder he can’t keep you for himself.” Ten said as he caught a ringlet of your hair and twirled it between his fingers. When you slapped his hand away he only grinned again then leaned in to whisper in your ear, “It matters not how many gowns and diamonds you wear, a wolf is a wolf, even in a gilded cage, even dressed in silk. And his daughter,” he said holding you tighter, “Is no exception.”
He knew then. Your heart pounded frantically as you began to race through plans of escape in your mind but Ten’s hands held too firmly to you.
“Perhaps instead of thinking about escaping me, you should start thinking about what the Alpha can do to Taemin if you don’t leave him.” His words stopped your writhing as you stared at him. “Telling the world who you are would indeed sour Taemin’s reputation but only for a time. It's simply not enough, eventually they would just say you cast a spell on him, that with your succubus charms and angelic words you stole him away from the public and his many admirers. Martyr that he is he wouldn’t oppose to gossip for your honor. What is an idol without fame but a beaten dreamer out on the streets and you know how rough that can be my dear. The fool thinks he loves you, well he can love you from his grave.” Your eyes widened as the full force of his words came to rest upon you.
“Your father is a wealthy man because of me, one word and I'll have those mutts of the Scarlet Groupe tear Taemin to pieces right before your eyes.
“Ten,” you said gripping his arms now. “If you still bear one shred of love for him, please don’t do this.”
“Oh my dear sweet vixen, he said tilting your chin up. “I won’t be the one breaking his heart, you will or else our songbird with never sing again.” And with that Ten spins you straight into your father’s arms.
“My how you've grown,” The Alpha said, as he lead you along the dance floor. You were too stunned for words to slip away. You’d forgotten the gentle rumble of your father's voice, at odds with his intimidating demeanor and brash fits of violence. You saw his eyes soften as he looked upon you and it silenced you into submission. You had always been the omega of the Scarlet Wolf, distanced from the blood-lust and ostracized from their plotting. You remembered then the last time you’d seen your father’s disappointed eyes as he’d turned away and left you in the snow. It was a show of strength, if you had come back alive from the cold it would prove your worthiness and loyalty. But you had run away, abandoning your kin just as your father had abandoned you in his heart. You firmly believed he’d never once believed you would survive that winter alone.
“When the young master told me you were still alive I could scarcely believe it. I thought it was a trick to lord over me but it wasn’t. Come back to us, there is nothing for you here.” Your father said. “There is a wildness in your eyes just as there is in mine, you do not belong in the freak show that man calls art.”
“You left me for dead! Why would I ever return? Especially now when you are nothing but a lapdog to the ringmaster and his family.”
“I prefer bloodhound,” he said his voice turning colder now. “I had the feeling you would refuse but this isn’t personal anymore it’s simple diplomacy. The young master would like you to leave New Celes and Taemin. I spoke with him and we have come to an agreement. If you leave before dawn he will meet you in the Hall of Mirrors and grant you a small fortune to live on as well as safe passage. You will not be followed out of the city.”
“And if I refuse this generous offer?”
“Well, I will have to kill Taemin upon my young master’s orders.”
“Why not just kill me then, It would save you both the trouble. You know you want to. Leaving the pack is a criminal offense in your eyes is it not?”
“As I said before personal matters are behind us but that does not mean I will enjoy seeing you die, daughter. Your mind is of no use to me anymore, the names you remember, the knowledge of the pack even. Many things have changed since then and I would rather see you off safely than have you come to harm because of the young master’s whims.”
His earnestness surprised you. You’d thought for certain he would want you dead but instead, he was bargaining for your future and safety?
“I am obliged to follow the young master’s words. It’s best you heed him or others will suffer. I’ve seen him shed more blood over less. I am merely the blade in his hands and his orders will be obeyed.” The song ended and he bowed before slipping away into the crowd.
Just then a scream cut through the ballroom and the crowd went to circle a body that had collapsed. You pushed your way through only to find a young woman on the floor. One of the candelabras had collapsed and she’d fell with it, hitting her head in the process. You would have believed it an accident if the woman had been anyone else. But there lay Valerie her delicate frame motionless in Taemin’s arms as he picked her up calling frantically all the while for a doctor. It was a message meant for you and as you met Ten’s vicious gaze you knew what would happen if you didn’t do as he wished.
“She’ll be fine, Valerie is awake now.” You said to Taemin again as you both made your way back to the hotel.
“I know’ it’s just…” Taemin let out the shaky breath he’d seemed to be holding the past two hours as they’d brought Valerie to the Chittaphon’s personal physician at Ten’s request of course. You’d watched helplessly as she began to regain her senses slowly after the physician treated her head and held smelling salts to her nose. Valerie had been groggy and complained of a gastly headache but she was otherwise unharmed and it had taken a bit of insistence on your part and Orla’s for Taemin to leave her side and get some rest.
It reminded you of the way you used to sit by Lily’s bedside while she had a fever. You’d watch over her and read to her for days until she was well. It comforted you that while you were leaving him behind Taemin wouldn’t be alone. He had a family here no matter how strange his position seemed to be he seemed to thrive amid the madness.
As you looked toward Taemin now pacing like a lion and deep in thought you wondered at the ache in your chest. Maybe you’d always worshipped things you couldn’t have and now that you had him before you, you couldn't bear to let him go.
“I saw you dancing with your father,” Taemin said breaking you from your thoughts. “I wanted to intervene but by the time I got close enough the dance had already ended and Valerie- Well I’m just sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
“No it’s alright,” you said. “I wasn’t in any danger, it seems my father rather I rejoin him than kill me.” And so you proceeded to tell him of your refusal and decided it was best to say nothing of Ten’s plans.
You didn’t want him to worry, you didn’t want to spend your last hours together explaining yourself or talking him into the idea of you leaving him. Perhaps it was greedy of you to want him to yourself just a while longer, but self-denial had never been your virtue and neither had patience.
“Your song helped me push through my unease tonight,” you said coming towards him and turning. “Would you mind detaching my wings?” You said with an impish smile. “Marguerite has already gone to bed and I’d hate to wake her.”
With nimble hands he began to untie the knot at the small of your back and peeled the wings away slowly. Your back brushed against his chest and you held his gaze over your shoulder. In that moment you were reminded of the carvings in the Hall Of Mirrors that had gleamed in the sun. He was a golden angel, a graven image you dared not touch and yet you burned for him.
Taemin stood so still, frozen in place as if even a whisper would scare you away. You felt as if you were standing at the edge of a cliff with hell down below. And so you welcomed the chaos of your desire as well as its many demons. You kissed him with all the rapture of an ending world. Your tongue caught the honey of his lips your breath heavy and untamed.With every button you loosened he grew unraveled. With every tug of his hair he was conquered.
He ran his fingers through your hair sending flower pins flying as he pulled you closer. His lips sent feather-light kisses down your bare shoulder that set your heart racing. Your neck tilted back with the echo of his name on your lips and he claimed them with ravenous abandon. You’d forgotten to feel the depths of your loneliness till now. Before you survived living like a hollowed shell but now that emptiness was filled with something so sweet and new and it made you tremble. Your hands wandered across his chest as he probed your mouth with his tongue, it danced with your own in a blaze of heat and need.
You slid from your gown, loosening the fabric that caught at your ankles and guided him towards the bed. Every move you made was languorous like a slow prowl your eyes and fingers traced every new patch of skin till you reached the uneven valley of his back and halted. Taemin seemed to come out of his torrid haze in that moment as well. His body seemed to lock in on itself in dread as you moved behind him and beheld his back.
You were unable to hold in the gasp that escaped your lips and quickly you brought one hand to your mouth as if you could take it back. There along the curve of his spine and the center of his back were scars etched deep into his skin that looked as if an animal had clawed him. No not an animal but a monster you realized as you took in the unnatural pattern they left behind. The lines were shaped like a cross as they overlapped each other and in them the indisputable initial ‘T’ stood.They were whip lashings as brazen as the demon who had given them. You coiled your fists in the sheets, rage swelled within you as well as grief. It was as if Taemin’s body was an extension of your own and every slash of pain bit into your heart.
“I’m fine.” Taemin said as he wiped your tears with his thumb.
“How can you say that! How can you stay here with him watching your every move. What he has done to you is unforgivable and yet you stay. You felt sick and so very tired. Your fingers moved along the scars and Taemin allowed it. Watching you over his shoulder as if he was trying to find the words to help you understand.
“Ten was always a devil in hiding, he took what he wanted and I never questioned his behavior. I was young and so blinded by admiration and blissful ignorance. In those days he could have set the world ablaze and called it snow, heaven knows I would have believed him.” Taemin said brokenly in a whisper of shame.
“It was so easy to love his smile that even when I found out about the family business I confronted him in the hope that he wasn’t a part of it.” Taemin continued. “I could not believe that the boy who would awaken at dawn just to paint the sky and sketch portraits of me while he thought I wasn't looking was really a monster.” Taemin shook his head and took your hand in his.
“Once he found out I knew about the family business his careful mask seemed to fall around me day by day till one night Ten’s father had me sleep with the Countess Marie de Froissy. It wasn’t unusual for him to ask this of me. He often tried to further his own investments with the information the wives of stockholders and other aristocrats told me.” His eyes flicked toward you when he said this and the words Taemin had said when you first met came to your mind, ‘You and I are more alike than you know.’
It took until now to fully realize the extent of those words. You’d both grown up in two separate prisons unable to alter the lives you were given and you both had been so alone. It was then that you showed him where the mark of your kin had been on your shoulder before you’d rid yourself of the hold they had on you. What a fine pair we make.
“Ten was angry at his father and wanted to make it so that he never sent anyone to me again.” Taemin said. “I believe in his own twisted mind he probably thinks it was a gift. But I have learned to not let it define me.”
“I see that by the way you hold yourself.” You said, moving towards him and letting his arms encircle you in warmth. “With every dance and soul-filled song you've shed these scars and now wear them as wings.” You said as you moved to kiss the scars on his back stroking the lines with the tip of your tongue like a baptism as you painted it across him. He let out an unholy groan that set your skin on fire.
You pushed him down unto the silken sheets and held him captive with your lips on his again as you straddled his hips, poised upon him as if he were your throne. You trailed your hair down his chest, the strands gliding across him in slow excruciating designs; the thrust of your hips inducing a moan that mirrored your own.
You reached for the clasp at your neck, unfastening the pearls and embracing the coolness of their touch as they slid pleasurable against your palm. You took the strand in your hands and encircled the beads around his length moving them back and forth against him in a way that made him whimper and quiver, sending a rush of excitement through your veins.
And then he was there settling above you. His elbows were propped up on either side of your head and the smell of his skin, cinnamon and vanilla enthralled you again. He nestled between your legs, moving inside you with such slow, torturous, movements at first that set your body burning with insatiable hunger until suddenly you couldn’t hum to the rhythm of his hips anymore and the inside of your heavy eyelids were covered in stars.
The Hall of Mirrors was an entirely different place at night. The mirrors and statues cast queer shadows in the darkness with only the moonlight coming through the archways for light. The chandeliers chimed against each other lightly as the brisk wind of an open window brushed across them.
You wondered if the letter you’d left Taemin behind would be the first thing he would see when he woke up alone and your heart constricted at the thought. You hadn’t said much, it wouldn’t really have been a goodbye if you had but a promise of something more and you weren’t cruel enough the leave him hope that you would return. Your words were brutal and dipped in half-lies that made you want to throw the paper into the fire before he could ever read it but you hadn’t. Instead you’d dressed, grabbed your few belongings and shut the door.
“I’m glad you could make it,” Ten’s amused voice came from behind you breaking you from your trance and in the next instant you heard the door click shut. You turned to see his wolfish grin as he crossed the room towards you and placed a single candle with its stand onto a table. You gave him a glare fixed with murderous intent.
“I didn’t have much choice did I?” You responded bitterly. “Give me the money and tickets before I kill you for what you’ve done to him! I’ve seen the markings on his back, the way you branded yourself onto his skin.” Tears came to your eyes now and you let them fall you didn’t care anymore if this inhuman creature saw you wither at last for he had won and he knew it. “How can you live as if you have authority over all creation? Is everything a game to you?”
“Ahh yes, those tokens of my love. Tell me, when you kissed his scars and traced my name across his back are you sure it was your face he saw as you slept with him or mine.” His eyes gleamed in the candlelight with such perverse pleasure that you could hold back no longer.
You flew at him with hands and teeth. Clawing at his perfect features with your nails as if he had released some rabid thing inside of you. A maniacal storm unleashing itself as you let your repulsion, your hatred, overtake you. You had sworn never to use the abilities of your kin again but your anger took over and with it the bloodlust.
You felt a surge of strength flow through you and with one swift motion, your nails raked across Ten’s face. He screamed, pushing you away with such force that you crashed into one of the mirrors. You covered your face with your arms as you fell to the floor, glass shattering around you. Then Ten was there pinning you down as he sat against your thighs, his hands grabbing at your throat. You felt the blood from his wound dripping across your face as he leaned over you. You’d missed his eye but just barely, the slashes around it had gone deep.
You could feel your strength waning as it always had before, one moment there then gone. You cursed yourself for your lack of power in a body so wasted away since birth that it only ever held a spark of ability unlike the rest of your kin who quaked with it.
“What’s the matter, runt? Was that all you could do? Ten taunted. He pulled at the pearls on your throat till it snapped sending a shower of beads across the floor amid broken glass.
“I meant it when I said this room wouldn’t hold your wedding. It was meant for something far greater: your funeral.’’ Ten said as he grabbed a shard of glass from the floor and drew it towards your chest. Just as suddenly a shadow swept into the room through the open window at an inhuman speed coming between you and the glass.
You screamed as the Alpha’s vest started to soak in blood. The shard had gone right to his heart and you held his hand in shock as his face grew paler.
“I couldn’t fail you a second time.” Your father said, his eyes meet yours and you knew then that no matter what had happened in the past, he had missed you. The Alpha let out a clear whistle with his last breath before falling limp in your arms. You shook him in disbelief. The strongest person you knew was dead.
It wasn’t long before Ten was surrounded by men and women in scarlet cloaks and furs. In response to the call of their leader and in a rage over their Alpha’s lifeless body they descended upon Ten like a pack of wolves in earnest till he lay across the marble floor, eyes dull and wide.
The members of the scarlet wolf gathered their leader’s body with careful hands and pulled you to the open window. It was only then that you heard the shout of Ten’s guard as you were whisked away from the scene by a family you thought you had left behind forever.
#Taemin#taemin fanfic#taemin imagines#taemin smut#SHINee fanfic#taemin au#ten fanfic#Taemin circus au#My writing#taemin fanfiction
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Private Moments
Two posts in a day? Yeah cause while I was fighting with my internet I finally got the chance to sort of proof read this one. Started it in like... March? Last year. was more of a headcanon free form thing that got unintentionally longer and then longer still and then I forgot about it for months, popped in on it a few times, forgot some more and then finally wrote the most ridiculous sappy ending ever like-- last month? two months ago? Idk.
Anyway. Enjoy.
Klance, roommates AU. Lots of smut to make up for those last two I guess. Like this whole thing is born from the concept of Keith trying to find a comfortable way to masturbate.
---
Keith has had to share a room for as long as he can remember. The orphan home was crowded, schools gave you dorm mates.
When he graduated he couldn’t afford to live on his own and between sharing a studio with Shiro and moving into a two bedroom with Hunk and Lance-- See, Hunk had a fancy catering job that helped him pay a larger share of the rent so he got the room to himself leaving Lance and Keith with twin beds on opposite sides of the second bedroom. It made finding alone time difficult.
Keith is tired of waiting for the dead of night when his roommate has his sleep mask and headphones on, already in some manner of deep sleep, to finally touch himself under the covers.
He hates how hot it is and how he sweats into his sheets when it takes too long and he starts to get desperate.
Lance is wearing those headphones so maybe he could have gotten away with a relaxed moan or two but he bites his lip hard instead.
He can’t do that. What if Lance hears him, what if he pulls down his mask and looks over and in the shadows of their shared room he can see Keith’s fist moving.
He has to restrain himself. He constantly... constantly... has to restrain himself.
And he is so god damn tired of it.
He thinks of Lance’s eyes on him once and cums faster than he’d thought he would and he wasn’t ready with his designated cum rag so it gets on the sheets and he spends the night terrified that Lance can smell it. Terrified that he’s going to nod off before it’s socially acceptable for him to be up and doing laundry and that Lance will get up first and see—
He gets hard again, thinking about Lance’s face and the potential smirk that would grace his lips once he realized what Keith was doing in their room at night.
The resulting stress of this causes him to consider Lance for the following days.
The next time his body is so damn desperate for release in their room he thinks of him. He has to struggle not to come undone thinking about Lance’s hands and his mouth and those eyes watching him in interest...
He fucked up.
This was a mistake.
Now when he looks at Lance or when they hangout for their weekly roommate movie he feels himself wanting.
He can’t masturbate the way he wants to while sharing a room with Lance and Lance makes him want to so badly...!
He takes to going out more, like he used to do in high school. Getting himself fucked in the backseat of cramped cars where he still can’t scream, still can’t be comfortable, still can’t be wholly satisfied—
And then Hunk finally says the magic words.
“Hey Keith, Lance and I are going upstate for this big catering job I have this weekend, you want to come with?”
Keith freezes with his hands on the dishes. He’ll have the apartment. Empty. For a little over two whole days.
Keith feels his throat go dry and tries to clear it, “uh— sorry, I think I might be coming down with something, it would probably be better if you guys go on your own.”
Lance waltzes in, comments on how Keith is totally going to take advantage of the empty apartment and invite his mystery boyfriend over.
Keith rolls his eyes, he doesn’t have a boyfriend. He barely remembers the names of the strangers stretching him out and trying to get him to cum all over their seats while he day dreams about his roommate. But oh, he will take advantage of the weekend.
He immediately orders some toys offline, pays for express shipping because he’ll be damned if he misses his opportunity to go absolutely wild.
Lance and Hunk leave Friday before he wakes up and Lance only barely makes his bed.
And maybe it’s because of his ill begotten sort of crush or maybe it’s because Keith is a deprived mess but as he stands over Lance’s bed so blown away that he is actually alone, actually able to relax he just kind of...Collapses into it.
The remnants of Lance’s scent alone help get him to full hardness and he grinds his hips into the bed, his dick trapped in his pajama bottoms but the whole thing is still so freeing.
He’ll wash Lance’s sheets later just in case. He’ll thank him for it, they were due soon anyway...
When he cums his voice is raw and his throat is dry as he moans Lance’s name.
It feels amazing.
Lance makes him crazy.
He passes out for a few minutes, face down in Lance’s bed, hugging his pillow to his face, damp spot soaking from his pants into the sheets.
Worth it. Worth it worth it worth it....
But he can finally do so much more.
When he gets back up he gathers up his toys on shaky legs and moves into the living room. The cool air across his pants feels nice. It’s supposed to be disgusting, he’s sure, but it still feels nice because he doesn’t have to care about it.
He imagines how much nicer it will be sprawled out across the cool leather couch in the light from the window fucking himself on his toys.
He can get completely naked, he can moan and cry out all he wants. He can make himself go for hours.
It’s going to be phenomenal, he’s already hard again from the excitement of it.
He strips right there, feeling lewd and on display and it just excites him more. He drops his clothes on the floor and slides onto the couch, he shivers at the cold but it doesn’t dissuade him at all.
He’s got lubed up hands over his body quickly. His moans are wanton, his breath is shallow. When he stretches himself out enough for the smallest toy he pushes it inside himself and spreads his legs wide just for the sake of it. Just because he can and a part of him gains confidence in that.
A part of him is sad.
No one will ever see him this free. This open.
Because he fucks strangers and doesn’t know how to make an effort for them to be anything but. Doesn’t want to.
Because he wants Lance.
Because Lance isn’t a stranger and he’s more than just his roommate. He just...
Well. No. He is just his roommate because he can’t be more. Because Lance is too good for him. Because his laugh is infectious and his heart is too big and he can do anything when he sets his mind to it—
And everyone loves him.
Everyone should love him.
Lance could have anyone.
Why would he want his shitty socially stunted sexually repressed dumbass roommate??
Not. Even. Remotely... the way Keith wants to be thinking.
So he shoves his cleaner fingers into his mouth and thinks about what it might be like to suck Lance’s cock right here, out in the living room pinned against the couch.
He turns on the vibrations for his little bullet friend and feels a bit overwhelmed for just a second before he lets himself enjoy it.
He rolls his hips so the toy inside him drags against his sweet spot and he keens, voice caught with his tongue against his fingers.
He still manages a sound like his name, because he wants to say his name. Wants to scream it over and over as he wrecks himself. On some level he wants the world to know how wild he can get— with one specific man in mind… but on all other levels, he’ll remain repressed.
And in this case, he’ll keep his voice sensible enough to be respectable of the neighbors.
Still, he’ll keep thinking about Lance. Wanting Lance. Imagining Lance’s hands and Lance’s teeth and Lance’s skin. Lance’s broad shoulders and long legs and clear blue eyes. Lance’s voice in his ear and his breath on his neck and his lips on his—
Oh.
He wants to kiss Lance. Very badly.
So badly he swirls his tongue around his fingers and moans because he may be free but it’s so much easier to pretend he’s about to be fucked by Lance when he’s at least about to be fucked by someone.
But he’s alone.
He’s alone and he has to settle because he won’t go out and find someone, they aren’t Lance.
Speaking of... Lance would be bigger.
He retrieves his fingers and slowly removes the smaller toy, he hadn’t even played with higher vibe settings but that was fine, he had time later. Now he wanted the dildo he’d bought. He’ll have to stretch himself a little more but that’s fine. Because he wants to imagine that it’s Lance. Lance who’s thighs he’s straddling rather than the couch. Lance’s dick pushing inside him, hot and pulsing and desperate for him the same way Keith is desperate.
When he’s finally ready for the purple plastic toy he lays over the back of the couch, warm chest against cold leather as he eases himself down. His legs are spread wide and his dick is slowly dragged down against the couch. He imagines if his roommates ever knew about this they’d probably get new living room furniture, but Keith doesn’t care. He has time. He’ll clean everything up once he’s done and they’ll never know.
He’ll know. And maybe whenever Lance sits right here he’ll think about it. Think about how he wants to be sitting in his lap. Thinks about how he wants to drag his nails through his hair and not scrape along the leather of th seat back
Wants Lance’s cock instead of this pathetic little purple bobble.
But he settles, because at this point this is his life and he should just be happy he has the place to himself.
He sinks to the hilt and whimpers because he isn’t used to it. Isn’t used to the size and the stretch and how it still falls just short of his expectations.
“La-anceee...!” He cries out to no one. His head drops against the couch and he rolls his hips the tiniest bit against the intrusion.
It feels better. Not good enough. But better. He tries to lift himself up. One hand reaching behind him to steady the dildo and keep it from simply rising with him. The lube makes it easier but it’s a tough sell and he’s still so very aware of the fact it isn’t a real person’s dick. It isn’t Lance.
Lance would.. would have his arms wrapped around him. Would kiss him all over, bury his face in his neck and make his whole body ache with need for him.
He starts to ease himself back down, dreaming of Lance’s nose bumping at his collar and he starts to melt into the feeling, into the dream.
He finds a rhythm and it feels good. His body thinks so anyway, with the way the heat builds in his belly.
He flops onto his back against the armrest, works the toy into himself a little faster. Starts to jerk himself off in time with the thrusts but he’s sloppy and uncoordinated and it doesn’t matter too much if it’s still gonna make him cum.
His mind wanders to a long forgotten memory. Of one of the few times Keith had agreed to hang out with his future roommates back when they’d been high school classmates sneaking into bars that didn’t card.
Keith had agreed because he was in the mood to drink. Lance, who at the time couldn’t stand Keith, had agreed because he had a date and that meant Hunk had company when he inevitably left him behind.
The night was primarily a foggy blur in Keith’s mind but now, fucking himself over the armrest of his couch and thinking about Lance—
He remembered Lance’s date.
He remembered how she couldn’t keep her hands off him and how they’d nearly immediately found a corner to make out.
Keith hadn’t watched. Hadn’t cared. Drank away his anger over Iverson’s patented daily bullshit and tried to make small talk with Hunk who smiled a lot and was too nice for his own good.
But occasionally Keith would scan the crowd and see. See how Lance had made that girl putty in his hands. How she leaned back over the edge of the booth they’d found for their supposed privacy and how her mouth hung open to moan or cry, with his lips on her jaw and his hands around her waist and under her skirt.
How Lance just... made her into this simpering mess.
And at the time, Keith had simply rolled his eyes. Moved on.
But now here he was. Practically the image of that nameless girl and all from the mere thought of Lance.
How had he been so blind for so long?
Was it better that way?
He grasped at the foggy edges of that memory and placed himself directly in her position. Nestled tightly against Lance’s body while he kissed and nipped and sucked on his throat, bare as he stretched further back, giving him all the room he needed as he fucked himself on his dildo and pretended his own hand was Lance’s, smearing precum all over his cock head.
“Yes...” he breathed out softly. “Yes... Lance...!”
There really was something about just being able to moan his name like that. So invigorating.
He drives his hips down hard, the toy accidentally hitting his prostate. It makes his next cry of Lance’s name much louder than he’d planned. Louder, and desperate as his voice cracks and he sees stars.
God help him, he hasn’t wanted anything more in his life and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to face Lance again.
He’s aching, tossing himself front first over the back of the couch again to better his leverage as he keeps driving himself to that edge, Lance’s name a whispered mantra as he squeezes his eyes shut tight against what he’s feeling.
“I can’t take this anymore.”
Warm arms wrap around Keith and pull, his back against a firm chest. Keith nearly screams but it dies in his throat when he finds he knows exactly who’s touching him.
“G-god—! You’re— you’re not supposed to be here!” Keith pants as a hand grips his dick.
Lance’s mouth finds Keith’s neck and the pleasure Keith feels is immeasurable, his tongue massaging his pulse and making Keith cry out.
“You’ve been here moaning my name so long, I’ve gotta give you a reason for it Keithy...”
Fuck. What was happening. Lance’s hand was so smooth and his teeth grazed at his shoulder and good god the dildo was being pushed deeper inside him, harder and faster than Keith’s original rhythm.
“Lance...! Lance!”
“You’ve been here fucking yourself to the thought of me... thought no one would hear you? Thought you could get away? Never telling me how badly you want me?” He drags Keith back far enough that his ass is in his lap now. Lance is wearing sweat pants that aren’t doing a damn thing to hide his hard on and Keith loves the feel of it.
“Can’t believe you. Sprawled out naked on our couch with a bunch of toys... if you wanted my cock so much you could have just asked...”
Keith is going to faint.
“Ask me for it.”
Keith is going to fucking faint, how is Lance here? How is Lance here and touching him like this—
“Ask me to fuck you, Keith.”
The toy is tugged out of him with no warning, leaving him open and empty and wanting. Lance drops it on the ground without a thought, grinding his hips up to push his point home to Keith.
“Beg for my dick.”
Keith rolls his hips back but can’t find his words, still so lost, still so confused.
“Don’t you want me to? Don’t you want my big hard cock inside you? Splitting you open? Sounded like you did. Sounded like you were desperate for me. Come on beautiful...”
Keith can only meekly whimper his name, “L...Lance...!”
“Cause man do I want to fuck you... everyday you come home from the gym wearing those nice tight leggings... fuck, it’s so hard not to touch you... and now you’re all open and pliant and calling my name... how am I supposed to not take you?”
Keith can feel his cock rubbing over his entrance through the fabric and his eyes roll back at the very idea that Lance might actually...
“R-really...? You want...me..?”
Lance growls against his neck, “Of course I do. Now say it before I cum in my pants, you’re too damn cute.”
He rolls his hips and the sensation makes Keith keen again before going mostly limp in the arms, raising his ass a little more and giving a little shake to entice the other boy.
“I want you... I want you so bad Lance... please fuck me...?”
Lance’s teeth go for his neck and the mix of pleasure and pain has Keith seizing up, a loud moan breaking from his lips and covering the sound of Lance yanking his sweats down one handed.
“You can do better than that. But this once I’ll take it.”
Keith doesn’t know where he finds the lube because one of Lance’s hands remains on his collar the entire time, but soon the damp head of his cock is sliding into him and Keith might see god.
The toy wasn’t too far off Lance’s size actually, but the pleasure Lance brought him by comparison was insurmountable.
“Do you like that...? Do you like how my cock feels, Keith?” Lance grunts against his shoulder as he slowly bottoms out.
It takes Keith a moment to realize his moans have gone silent, lips dropping open but unable to wield the strength for sound as the feel of Lance completely enveloped him. Lance’s arms around him, his chest to his back, his dick fully seated, like being closer was impossible.
He croaks around his dry throat before offering Lance a very clear and eager: yes.
Lance chuckles.
“So cute... I’m going to wreck you Keithykins. Make you come back for me over and over...”
Over and over...
Keith could do that. Keith could absolutely go back to Lance over and over to feel this good.
“Are you ready?” Lance asks, softer than before.
But Keith is so ready he doesn’t even answer, simply pulls his hips back and slams back into Lance, rubbing that dick inside him in ways he’d only dreamed of.
“Sh-shit!”
At Lance’s response Keith has to go again.
Has to slam back harder, faster, make it worth it to Lance in the long run too, to make him come back to him again and again.
The sound of his ass against Lance’s waist shouldn’t sound so good to him but coupled with Lance panting and his fingers twitching at his waist as he attempts to get a grasp on Keith to regain control— well it all feels like heaven to him.
“Fuck! Keith. Keith. C’mere.” Suddenly Keith is pulled away from the couch and onto his back, Lance moves to lay on the couch beneath him, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as he starts his own rhythm, thrusting his hips up into Keith. He’s getting deeper now, and the angle seems to work for his speed too. It’s nearly punishing but Keith is living for it.
Then Lance reaches up with one hand, cupping Keith’s chin tightly and turning him to face him.
It nearly stops his heart.
Their lips brush lightly at first. A hint of static between them as it seems to dawn on them, how their relationship is changing with every second. How there’s no turning back from this. Lance’s hips don’t falter though. His eyes are calm, confident, positive that this is right.
Keith can’t disagree. His hands find Lance’s thighs and give him a reassuring squeeze as he tries to stare back at him in a way he hopes exudes that same kind of sense of calm, lips parting in invitation but hiding his moans.
Lance doesn’t mind too much, because he clearly wanted the invitation.
When Lance thrusts up into him at the exact moment his tongue slides into his mouth, Keith considers he might actually have died.
Died and entered the world where everything is rosy and Lance doesn’t ever let him go. Where these sensations never end and they can stay joined like this always.
Lance moans into the kiss and Keith can’t help but return those sounds in earnest.
He can’t imagine how he ever went a moment without it in the past. Without this. Without Lance and the way his hands dig into his hips and how he nips at his lips still trying to catch his breath.
“So good Keith... you feel so good. Why weren’t we doing this before...?” Lance moans in his ear, one hand sliding over Keith’s chest to tease a nipple as the other delves south to stroke him in time with their movements.
Keith shakes his head, unsure he can form words as well as Lance can.
“I don’t know... I don’t know. We should have. We should have been— like this— like this from the sta—aa—art...! Lance...!”
It’s not long before Lance is pulling out, his cum all over Keith’s thighs and the seat of the couch. Keith’s cum already drenching his hand though Lance hadn’t ceased his strokes, causing Keith to writhe on-top of him through his orgasm.
Finally, Lance releases him and nuzzles his face into the crook of his neck, letting them both simply lay there, basking in their joint mess, the smell of sex, the constant rising and falling of their chests.
Sated and content and brains reminiscent of puddles of goo.
Before they manage to remember to breathe again something short circuits In Keith’s brain and he laughs. He doesn’t have the air to laugh deeply but the sound is apparently enough for Lance to join him, arms coming back around him tightly as they both shake, voices raspy but filled with the same unbridled mirth.
They end with a long wheeze from Lance, possibly due to the added stress of Keith’s weight.
It’s silent again.
Comfortable.
“You really should have told me sooner...” Lance mumbles though, typical as the one used to breaking the silence.
Keith turns his head, damp bangs against Lance’s neck.
“You could have told me too...” he says through a smile that can’t leave his cheeks.
Lance chuckles again, “Point taken.”
—-
(Bonus)
“...why are you even here? What about Hunk?”
Keith can feel Lance’s face get warm beside his own cheek.
He quirks a brow though he isn’t too sure Lance can see it.
“Uhhh... sooo... about that... I hid in Hunks room to try and sneak a peek at your secret boyfriend.”
Keith raises his head to look Lance in the face.
“But I don’t...?”
Lance looks away, “I mean I know that now! But. I just. I didn’t know that. Before. And uh...”
Keith stares.
Lance won’t look him in the eyes.
“...you ditched Hunk because you were jealous of my non-existent secret boyfriend?”
“I mean I DID tell Hunk I’d meet up with him later!”
“Were you uh… jealous?”
“No I wasn’t— I just wanted to like-- I guess… see what I was up against? Scope out the competition— dooooont look at me like that. Oh my god.”
#klance#smutty klance#lemon#fuck tagging#ya'll already follow me there's like no way for anyone to find me anymore anyway#reblogs would be cool I guess#pining keith#slutty keith#kinda#also sap#so much sap at the end#smut and fluff#I mean the fluff came out of nowhere believe me I have questions
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Hey can you write one where Ethan and his wife have a fight bc he used to like Grayson’s wife and Ethan seems to always agree w everything she says And Y/n doesn’t like that
This are the requests i love😭😭😭 get ready for your heart to hurt.
"Christmas is would be better here in La." Grayson's wife, Elma chipped into the conversation between Grayson, Ethan, and you as you fought the urge to roll your eyes at her bird like voice.
"But me, gray and Ethan's families are in New Jersey, they will all have to fly out." You explain as nicely as you can despite having to bite the inside of your cheek to prevent any ignorant comments to fly by.
"But my family isn't." Elma is only worried about herself, no one else mattered. Just with one look at her it was easy to tell. Designer everything, won't wear the same outfit twice, a new hand bag every time you see her.
"So instead of having your parents and your brother fly out to New Jersey, you want use to fly our entite family here?"
Even though Grayson agreed completely with you, he decided to stay quiet knowing this would only end bad for him either way. He takes another bite on his steak, chewing it slowly as if no one would look at him for input.
"Yeah exactly."
"Well to me that seems selfish, maybe you should think about -"
"Y/N" Ethan barks, scolding you with his eyes. "Maybe we should, it would be a nice change."
All eyes are on Ethan now, Grayson's eyes darkening at him. Of course he knew of the feelings Ethan did have for his wife, he swore they weren't crazy, but noticeably how much he wanted to be on her good side, bended rules for her and went against his own wife to make her Happy. Elma smiles, "thank you E."
Ethan didn't meet your eyes, only took another bite of his food as you pushed yours away, appetite suddenly disappearing.
"Baby?" Ethan mumbles as Grayson and Elma are in a deep conversation, his lips meeting hers sweetly. Despite ignoring him, he continues to talk. "You barely ate, eat some food it's good."
"Why because Elma made it?" The question made all words disappear from the middle of his throat, looking at you like you did something wrong?
"Don't be rude, you should thanful she made this for all of us."
"You sure are. You told her how good it was at least five times. I don't think you every commented on my cooking." You stand, so disgusted with the mere thought that filled your head. He likes her. "I, ugh don't feel good. I'm going to take an uber home."
Why wouldn't he? Elma was beautiful, long wavy blonde hair, eyes blue as the ocean, she stands tall, tanned, beautiful long legs that leaned into her lean frame. Ethan didn't want you, he wanted her. The look on his face whenever she came around was different, he laughed more, smiled more, actually tried with every day look. You would never be here, it was a final realization that made you sick and so dumb for finally realizing it. Ethan had told you before you started dating that he wasn't over someone, he was in love but you didn't think it would be his brother's wife.
"Don't be ridiculous, we'll go home." Ethan stands, fingers reaching out to touch yours. You move it away which goes unnoticed by Grayson and Elma.
"You can stay. Enjoy the wondering dinner Elma made." The venom of your words turning Ethan's cheeks a light pink, words slapping his face.
Ethan's throat was instantly dry, he didn't like seeing his wife upset but mostly because he could tell by her tone, she found out who the person he just couldn't move on from was. "Thanks for dinner, see you later Grayson." Ethan avoids saying her name but nods towards Elma in acknowledgement.
The car ride was quiet, not a word said as you stare out the window, small silent tears falling down your cheeks but not enough for Ethan to notice. To say he was nervous weren't even the words to express the feeling he felt deep in the pits of his stomach. His knuckles wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, every time he tried to touch you, you would move from it, this was the only way he could control himself.
The honest truth is Ethan hated seeing you like this, the moment he agreed with Elma that shimmer that glossed your eyes, face turning in shock then anger he knew you were upset. You acted as if he couldn't see your tears, but he did, and lips twitched to his every little droplet of sadness from your cheeks. He loved Elma, it was true, but nothing compared to what you were to him, he would never love someone the way he loves you.
Finally he couldn't take it anymore, "Can we talk about this?"
"What? About the fact that you love Elma, that she was that girl you always told me about. Or about this sick part of your wanting your brother's wife?"
"Stop. I don't want her."
You scoff. If he was going to lie, what was the point of talking? The car ride went silent again. By the time the both of you reached home, the car ride felt like a pissing of months.
"Are you coming to bed?" It has been a half an hour since arriving home, Ethan had gone upstairs to get dressed for the night and when you didnt follow, came to look for you.
Ethan's heart sunk at the sight of him, you didn't move one inch, the beautiful black dress you wore didn't help the chilliness your heart gave out, goosebumps against thighs and arms. Small amounts of mascara running down your undereyes, squeezing yourself tighter for warmth. "No."
Ethan sighs, taking slow steps not to alert you, but hand reaching out to stroke the softness of hair for her comfort, and his own. He sunk to his knees in front of you, softness of lips against your forehead. "I love you with all my heart angel. I'm sorry you found out this way, and that i didn't tell you but I was ashamed, its my brother's wife. I'm sorry."
Small tears gathering in his eyes, he hates seeing you like this. "I will never love anyone the way I love you. I only agreed with her because my family is always bothering us to come up here. They want to come to LA."
"Why didn't you say that then? Why do you always make it look like you're on her side?"
"Grayson knows about how I used to feel about her. At the time it was his girlfriend, he was so mad at me when I told him. He didn't talk to me for weeks and if i upset her, I dont want him to hate me again." Ethan's emotions got the best of him, a small sob leaning his lips as his head finds your neck, seeking comfort.
"It's okay." Your hand meets the small of his back, rubbing it in soft, circular motions.
"I love you angel, I don't deserve you."
"I love you baby, you know I do." Biting your lip debating on saying the words that ran through your mind, but they come out anyways. "One question? Do you still think about her that way?"
Ethan clears his throat, pulling away to look in your eyes, silence scaring you. "Tell me the truth"
"Yes." He pauses, "but its not like it is with you."
All you could feel was bile rising in your throat, the crushing pain of your heart squeezing inside of your chest making your body ill. Vision blurring as tears filled your eyes, chest sill, breathing was harsh and hurt at the moment.
"Get away from me." Sadness filled every vein, creaping along your skin, making it red with gloom. He didn't budge, fingers tightening to keep you close. Finally you scream, "Get the fuck away from me!"
Ethan's heart pounded against his chest so fast, he swore it broke his robs. What else could explain the pain in his chest? His heart was breaking, but it was his own fault.
Even thought you could only see shadows, touch was your friend as you wrapped your fingers around the ring he gave you, throwing it towards him, only for it to hit his chest and land on the floor with a thump. Shakey hand reach for the keys, stumbling towards the door. The walls felt as if they were closing in, Ethan was too close to you.
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Normal Ending: A Second Chance?
Summary: Gedonelune, the prestigious royal magic academy is waiting just for you! The door has opened a whole new world of possibilities for your future. For the next thirteen days you’ll be undergoing the provisional trial to see if you have what it takes to become an official student. Along the way you’ll be meeting new faces and going on exciting new adventures. But be warned, shadows are being cast on the land, if you dive to deep, you may find yourself being swallowed up by the chaos. Your journey begins now, will you be able to banish the darkness?
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Unhappy Ending
Both powers collided with a bang, the beam of darkness striking the barrier with such a great force that a crack began to form at the top of it. But Lily kept her magic steady as she began to push back the attack. She began to take her first step, pushing the barrier forward and I followed suit. Each step became easier and easier as Lily began to harness more of her power, focusing on pushing the darkness back. With a loud cry, the barrier broke, turning into a massive shield of light that bounced the attack back to the attacker. Raspatil was hit head-on and sent flying into the wall. Not missing a beat, Lily dropped the shield which faded into particles of light before wrapping our bodies in an icy blue bubble of light.
I had shut my eyes tightly in order to not stare as the light became brighter and brighter. When it was finally safe for me to open my eyes I was greeted to a sight that I had missed. The bubble around us popped, showering us in small particles of light as we stood in the middle of the courtyard at the academy.
“We’re back at the Academy.” I sighed but quickly froze when I realized something. “What happened to Raspatil? Or the Ark?”
“Don’t worry about that right now, don’t you have a trial to get to?”
I looked up at the sky as she spoke, the sun was high above, meaning that it was noon or somewhere around there. I gave a small nod before sprinting as fast as I could to the auditorium and was completely out of breath when I walked through the doors. People were already gathered there, this included Persephone, Nadia, and the Headmaster. Nadia and Persephone wore worried expressions, while Schuyler held a stern one as he folded his arms over his chest. I was a little nervous….actually no, little was an understatement, I was beyond nervous as I made my way to where they were all gathered.
Behind Schuyler sat a golden scale engraved with jewels that shone as bright as a star. Schuyler then proceeded to explain what I needed to do.
“Miss Onyx here was kind enough to fetch your acceptance letter, you should count your lucky stars that you’re not in more trouble than you should be.”
“Headmaster I can explain-”
“There’s no need to explain, miss Zaidelle here told me about you falling ill.”
Falling ill? I looked over at Nadia who shifted her gaze down to the ground shyly. I smiled gratefully, mentally reminding myself that I definitely owed her one.
“Now, if you’ll please put your acceptance letter on the scale, we can then begin.”
Persephone handed my acceptance letter over to me which began to shine dimly the minute it was in my hand. With semi-shaking hands I walked over, standing right in front of scale before placing the acceptance letter in its designated spot. The scale gave off a dim glow before it began to shift and move slightly. It was painful to wait and watch to see what would happen. Until finally, the scale titled to one side. Confused, I looked over at the others, but somehow, I already. Nadia and Persephone looked especially sad as Schuyler grabbed the acceptance letter which disappeared with a puff of smoke.
“I’m afraid your time here at the Academy has come to an end.”
“B-But there’s always a next time!” Nadia spoke while giving me a sad gaze.
“Yeah, don’t give up hope.” Persephone spoke without even bothering to look at me.
“A next time?”
“Yes, just because you failed the trial doesn’t mean you don’t have the chance to retake it. If you keep practicing your magic, you have a chance to receive another acceptance letter. Go now and start carving a way to your second chance.” Schuyler added.
After all was said and done, I found myself wandering around the courtyard for a little while, trying to find Lily before finally making my way towards the town. Upon my arrival, I was greeted by Lily, who was no longer in her draconic appearance. The minute she saw me, she ran over and took my hands.
“Did you pass?!”
I could feel a whirlwind of emotions swirl inside of my heart, leaving me to only shake my head while on the verge of tears. Knowing what had happened, Lily gently pulled me into a hug and began to rub my back.
“Hey, it’s okay….i-is there a way you can come back?”
“There is, but I don’t know when or if it’ll even happen.” I replied.
Lily went silent for a second as she pulled away to look at me. “What’s going to happen now?”
“I’m going to go home. There’s nothing else I can do here.” I sighed while looking around at the bustling town. “I’m really going to miss this place.”
“Then don’t leave.”
“Huh?”
“Sorry, this might be way too soon to ask but, what about staying in the village?”
“I don’t have a house to go too and I’m not sure how comfortable it would be living in the house with the others. It might be bigger than most of the houses, but it’s still rather cramped.”
“Oh, I don’t mean with them. I meant just with me.” Lily smiled. “Do you remember seeing an unfinished house in the village?”
“Now that you mention it…” I searched through my memory, recalling the first time I had arrived to the village.
“It’s not finished yet, but when it is would you…” Lily’s cheeks began turning a soft shade of pink. “...like to stay with me? We’d be close enough to the town and you’ll still have all your magic grimoires and tools available to you. I remember you mentioning that your hometown doesn’t offer much when it comes to these things a-and, of course, you can say no, but…”
“Lily, I’d love to live with you.” I gave her hand a soft squeeze, watching as she looked down at our hands before bringing mine to her cheek where she nuzzled into it softly.
In the end, I decided to go back and live in my hometown until the day that Lily’s house was built. From there, I would go about training for the day I might receive another acceptance letter.
------------------------------
(A few months later)
------------------------------
“Hey Lily, I was thinking about going into town and checking out the new wand shop that opened up. Would you like to come?”
“Oh, is that the one by the flower shop? I’ve been wanting to go and get some more seeds to plant in our garden.” Lily smiled as she wrapped her arms around me, giving me a soft kiss on the cheek.
I returned the kiss with a smile. “Yeah, I think so. Do the others need anything?”
“Hm, I’m not sure. Lacan should be up by now. I can go and ask him if there’s anything he and the others need.”
We learned that after Lily had broke her own curse, the one placed on the others were lifted as well, though to only an extent. Lily needed to make a potion to take away the rest of it and once she had successfully gotten her hands on the ingredients, she wasted no time in making it. I was relieved to hear that they were doing fine, I was worried that the worst possible scenario might happen.
“Alright.”
Lily unwrapped her arms around me and smiled as she left our house. I let out a soft sigh of happiness as I took a seat on the sofa, getting the surprise of a lifetime when I heard a loud pop followed by a voice I could never forget…
“Hey, lazybones, are you going to be sitting here all day?”
“Acceptance letter!”
“Not so loud! Goodness me, you’re just as loud and annoying as ever aren’t you.”
“Ah and you’re a ray of sunshine I see.” I said while rolling my eyes.
“Hmph. Listen if I had the choice to come here, I wouldn’t have. But regardless I’m here now, much to my dismay, and I must welcome you back to Academy. How about this time you pass, that way I don’t have to come here again?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The smile I had on my face was beginning to hurt and yet got wider when Lily had walked back into our house with wide eyes.
“Looks like I’m going to need to get that wand shopping done as soon as possible.”
#wizardess heart+#shall we date?: wizardess heart#wh fan route#The Three Seals Series#The Queen Of Forgotten Time#Lily Bloom#Genderless MC#I'm sorry this was posted a day late and at a different time#I had things preventing me from posting sooner#Tumblr not wanting to post things was one of them
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The Loft: Redemption
Disclaimer: the usual.
Word count: 2600+
Warnings: Mentions of sex dreams, masturbation, naughty thoughts and implied naked Vincent Stevens.
Rating: 18+
Chapter 5
Vincent groaned into his pillow after glancing at the alarm clock. Three twenty-six in the morning and he was wide awake.
He blamed the dream. Jesus Christ, did he blame the dream.
The same dream he’d had every night since he’d nearly kissed Sam in the conference room. When she had straightened his tie and told him she didn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression because he was a rumpled mess.
He rolled onto his back and tossed the covers off. “She’s off-limits, Stevens,” he muttered as he scrubbed his hands over his face. “Too good for an asshole like you, you’d only ruin her.”
He slipped out of bed and stalked across the loft to the bathroom. He screwed his eyes shut when he flipped on the light, the sudden brightness burning. “She deserves better.”
Deserves better than a man pushing forty with a history of womanizing and cheating. A man who had been arrested for murder. A man paying dearly in alimony and child support with strict and limited visitation with his children. A man who had fought and struggled and clawed his way back from rock bottom to keep his company afloat.
He squinted his eyes as he opened them, locking onto the shadowed eyes in the mirror. “She’s too young for me anyway,” he sighed heavily before turning toward the shower and turning it on. He adjusted it to the coldest temperature he could stand and stripped out of his blue and grey plaid pajama bottoms. His erection, brought on by the damned erotic dream, throbbed against his abdomen. He glared at it. "Cold showers at three thirty in the god damned morning are not my idea of fun,“ he muttered before stepping into the shower. He bit back a yelp as the stream of cold water hit his skin.
Vincent ducked his head under the icy spray, welcoming the shock and hoping it would kill his raging desire so he would not have to deal with it himself. In the past it never bothered him to jack off in the shower. Back then he hadn’t given a damn. But now?
Now he felt dirty. He felt disgusted any time he had to bring himself to completion after dreaming about making love (not fucking, not screwing, not banging, making slow, sweet love) to Sam in his office or on the damned conference table. But the cold shower was not helping kill the lust. With a growl he soaped up his hands before curling his fingers around his aching manhood and thinking of anyone but Sam. But all he could see was his beautiful, efficient, brilliant assistant reaching up to straighten his damned tie. One hand curling around the tie at his chest, the other sliding up to the knot, her brow furrowed in concentration, full bottom lip trapped in her teeth, big grey eyes shyly meeting his.
Fuck.
Vincent leaned back against the cold ceramic tiles of the shower, swearing a blue streak as he struggled to regain his breath. He reached over and turned the shower off. He stood there a few minutes more before stepping out onto the plush bath mat and grabbing a towel to dry off with. He tossed it angrily toward the hamper as he stalked out of the bathroom.
He grabbed his bottle of bourbon and a tumbler. The drink he poured he knocked back quickly. "Dammit,” he muttered. He poured another drink. With a frown he filled the tumbler nearly to the brim.
Vincent knew bourbon was not the answer to his problem. But he drank it anyway. He chugged the generous glass and poured another to take to bed. As he set the tumbler on the nightstand he glanced at the alarm clock. 3:42. "Hell,“ he muttered. His alarm was set for six, and he was wide awake.
And hungry.
Most men would fall asleep after a damned good orgasm, whether resulting from sex or masturbation. He never did. Maybe it was years of cheating on Barb and not wanting to risk falling asleep and wind up getting busted, maybe he was wired different. But he always wound up hungry.
He made his way back to the kitchen to scope out the contents of the refrigerator and grinned when he saw the takeout container from yesterday’s, no, the day before’s, lunch. Sam had ordered extra Chinese when he’d commented about possibly working late to work on that damned park design he’d been struggling with. "Still struggling with the damned thing, too,” he grabbed the container and popped it in the microwave.
He scrubbed his right hand over his face as he waited for the food to heat up. But he could not get the images from that dream out of his head. Wide grey eyes behind those glasses she always wore. Soft pink blush on her cheeks. Plump kissable lips. Silky dark hair he longed to tunnel his fingers into as he kissed her senseless or marked up her neck. Elegant fingers he wanted to entwine with his as he made slow, sweet love to her. Long legs he wanted wrapped around his hips as he drove into her over and over again.
The tattoo on her shoulder he’d caught a glimpse of months ago. The memory of the sudden desire to touch, to taste washed over him. He knew about the feather tattooed on the inside of her left wrist and the flower tattooed just behind her right ear on her neck. She had told him it was simblemyne from Lord of the Rings when he had asked about it.
“God dammit,” he sighed heavily. He had never had a thing for tattoos on a woman before, hadn’t cared one way or another. But on Sam… Jesus Christ did he want to trace his tongue and fingers over each one. And he wondered if she had more.
He closed his eyes. “Get a grip, Stevens,” he growled. “It’s been a long week already, don’t make it any more difficult.”
He was a tired, cranky mess when he made it to the office a few hours later. Sleep had evaded him when he’d crawled back into bed, even with a full belly and a fourth glass of bourbon. How he wasn’t drunk before eight in the morning was a mystery to him, one he hoped to never have to repeat.
Thank god it was Friday.
Vincent damn near dropped his coffee when he opened the door to the office and spotted his assistant at the window with her back to the door wearing something she had never worn before.
She was dressed in a soft dove grey sweater dress, loose-fitting and hitting at mid-thigh, paired with black tights and knee-high grey boots. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the crown of her head, exposing that damned delectable simblemyne tattoo. He was accustomed to leggings paired with tee-shirts and flowy cardigans or sweaters, or fitted slacks and button-down blouses. But a dress? When he’d overheard her tell Linda she hated dresses?
She turned to face him when he pushed the door shut. “You’re…” She trailed off when she took in the bags under his eyes. “Vincent, are you okay?”
“My turn for a sleepless night,” he gave her a tired grin. “Don’t even think about sending me home, I’ve got to knuckle down on that damned park design if I’m going to present it next week to the city.”
“The one you’ve been struggling with?”
He snorted as he made his way to his office. “Landscaping is not my forte, Sam,” he admitted. “I wanted to branch out and now I’m sorely regretting it.”
“Maybe I could help?”
He stopped in the doorway separating the offices. Did I hear her correctly?
“Or not, don’t listen to me.”
He frowned when he caught the defeated tone in her voice. That’s not the Sam Monroe I know, he thought. “You want to do what I do,” he turned to face her. “You want to become an architect.”
She nodded. “It’s been a longtime dream of mine.”
“You know anything about landscaping?”
“A little,” she shrugged. “I designed a butterfly garden for Mom’s office building and worked with a group on a class project to design a memorial park at the university I attended.”
Vincent walked over to stand beside her. He took her shoulder in his free hand and turned her back to the window. “Remember the city block you pointed out the day I interviewed you?” He dropped his hand when he felt her shudder. Don’t overstep your boundaries, Stevens.
She looked up at him. “Yes.”
“This is no small butterfly garden or memorial park, Sam. This is something for families to enjoy together. Think Central Park, but smaller.”
“I’ve never been to New York,” she admitted quietly.
He gave her an incredulous look. “Next conference I go to in New York, you’re going with me.”
“That’s not necessary,” she shook her head, tearing her eyes from his. “What would I do in New York while you’re attending the conference?”
“Suffer through the boring crap with me, tour the architectural wonders, stroll through Central Park, eat at a five star restaurant and take in a show on Broadway.”
“If the conferences are boring, why bother going?"
"It’s good exposure,” Vincent shrugged. “You learn about new things, new areas of study and certification, new technology for designing blueprints.”
“I don’t see you using computer programs to design buildings,” she wrinkled her nose.
“There’s something magical about drawing up the designs by hand,” he tipped his head toward her. “Computers take the fun out of it. They make the mind weak by taking out all the guesswork and calculating everything for you. Don’t ever rely on those programs, Sam.”
She nodded.
“What’s my schedule like today?" He asked as he headed to his office.
"Site visit after lunch, Jennings Street apartment complex.”
“You ever visit a project site before?”
“No, sir.”
His coffee cup thunked onto his desk.
Sir.
She just had to call him “sir”.
He fumbled to keep the to-go cup from tipping over, inwardly cursing himself at the mental images popping into his head unbidden.
“Vincent?”
“You want to come with me this afternoon?”
He screwed his eyes shut and grimaced at his ill-worded question and husky tone, glad he still had his back to the door.
“I’m hardly dressed for a visit to a construction site.”
“What you’ve got on is fine, Monroe.”
More than fine, his brain added quite unhelpfully. Sexy. Gorgeous. Breathtaking.
“It’s fodder for construction workers,” there was that hesitation in her voice, a tone of self-doubt he’d never heard before.
“You’ll be with me the entire time, Sam, if anyone says anything out of line or looks at you wrong I will take care of it,” he turned to face her. “I won’t tolerate anyone crossing any lines with you.”
Her grey eyes widened behind her glasses. “I could always run home and change during my lunch break…”
“Sweetheart, it won’t matter,” he shook his head. “They’ll stare, they’ll say something, and I promise you they’ll get their asses handed to them.”
“I don’t want to cause any issues–”
He chuckled. “Oh, you will,” he hung up his jacket and dropped into his chair behind the desk. “Woman on a construction site usually does. Don’t let them get to you. Don’t pay them any mind, but if they say something put them in their place and tell me.”
Her brow furrowed. “Okay, but I’d feel more comfortable if I can go home to change.”
He could not argue with her point. “All right. I’m going to start working on that damned design in about fifteen minutes if you want to help.”
Sam smiled, “Thank you, Vincent.”
“I should be thanking you, Sam,” he smiled back.
Vincent looked up from noting a playground on the paper in front of him. “Koi pond?”
She nodded. “Kids love watching koi fish,” she frowned thoughtfully. “The nursing home where my grandpa was has a koi pond in front of the Hollywood wing. When they remodeled the vestibule they put in a section of ‘glass’ floor to watch the fish swim under it,” she hooked her fingers in air quotes. “It’s pretty neat, but they scare the hell out of me. Kenna still teases me about refusing to use the main entrance. Any time I went to see Grampa I had to be buzzed in from the patio.”
He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling and to refrain from reassuring her those floors, if installed correctly, were perfectly safe. “You mentioned designing a butterfly garden earlier. What if we included one in the design?” He studied the rough layout he’d mocked up before sliding his hand along the paper to tap a blank area. “Maybe over here away from the playground.”
Sam caught her bottom lip between her teeth and nibbled on it as she swiveled on the stool, angling her body toward him. “I was thinking of a pavilion around here, for outdoor weddings,” she murmured before immediately flinching. "If… If that’s okay with you?“
He frowned at the way she flinched like she was expecting to be slapped. "Jot it down,” he slowly reached across her to pick up her discarded pencil. “Sam, your ideas for this park are brilliant. I’ve been procrastinating on this for weeks, and here you’ve bounced several excellent suggestions off of me in…” he glanced at his watch as he straightened from his slouch over the drawing table, “three hours. Let’s take a break for lunch and come back to this after the site visit. How’s that sound?”
She looked up at him. “You really think my ideas are brilliant?”
Oh damn.
That shy smile bowing her lips tugged at his heart.
“No,” he shook his head. “I know they’re brilliant." He tapped the paper. "Make note of the other ideas you mentioned off to the side until we can figure out where to work them in. And for future reference, keep a notebook available to write down any ideas you might get at random times. Trust me, I’ve been in the damned grocery store more than once when a thought would pop into my head. You wouldn’t think a package of chicken breasts would inspire an arched entryway.”
Sam giggled at that as she jotted her ideas down. “And just how did they inspire it?”
He chuckled. “My kids were going to spend the weekend with me. Figured I’d get the ingredients for a couple of their favorite meals. Kinzie, my little girl, likes this chicken breast and asparagus dish. I was standing there, trying to remember what else I needed when it just popped into my head how she’d told me one time she wished her school had arched doorways like a castle does, and I realized that would be better for the preschool design I’d bid on.”
Sam twisted the stool to face Vincent, her eyes wide behind her black-framed glasses. “Please tell me you included a moat and a tower in the design.”
He laughed. “No, I didn’t, If Kinzie had her way it would’ve been an actual castle.”
“She sounds like she takes after you,” she tipped her head toward his Castle Grayskull blueprint on the wall.
“God, I hope she doesn’t,” he sighed heavily.
The last thing he needed was for either of his kids to follow in his damned footsteps.
He shook off that frightening thought before pasting on a tired smile for Sam’s benefit. “I’ll grab us some lunch so you don’t have to rush. Romeo’s sound good?”
“I’ve been wanting to try their cauliflower risotto and parmesan crusted chicken breast,” she nodded. “Would it be too much to ask for cheesecake? Their blackberry swirl cheesecake looks amazing.”
He smiled at the hopeful look in her grey eyes. “Anything else?”
She shook her head. “No, that’ll do me, Vin, thank you.”
His heart stuttered in his chest at that shortened version of his name. He watched her walk out of his office.
I’m in trouble.
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166. Sonic the Hedgehog #98
Sonic Adventure 2
Writer: Karl Bollers
Pencils: Patrick "Spaz" Spaziante
Colors: Patrick Spaziante and Nelson Ribeiro
Welcome to Sonic Adventure 2, everyone! Now, you would be excused for thinking that the comic would want to handle such a highly anticipated and ultimately successful game in the same manner as it did the first one, but you would be wrong! I'm going to spoil it for you right now - we only get part of the story in the comics. This one issue used to cover the entirety of the game, and as we'll see this presents some serious problems. But let's dive in, I'll save my rants for after we go over everything.
So our story doesn't actually begin where the previous issue left off. Instead, it begins three months ago, right on the tail end of the previous Sonic Adventure, in fact. The comics never really did address exactly what happened to Eggman in between being chased out of Station Square by Silver Sonic, and returning to Robotropolis. Well, as it turns out, he ended up being chased, somehow, all the way to one Prison Island, where Silver Sonic cornered him and blasted the ground out from under him, causing him to fall down a dark hole. Satisfied that it had killed him, Silver Sonic returned to Station Square to resume its defensive protocol there, but in actuality he had fallen into a secret lab with something very interesting hidden inside…
Now fast forward to a mere week ago. In the dead of night within Station Square, a mysterious figure broke into a top-security vault to steal the city's last remaining Chaos Emerald. Silver Sonic tried to prevent the theft, but…
News of the theft soon reached the desk of the city's president, who mistook the figure as the hero who had defended Station Square from Chaos mere months ago, because apparently in every Sonic canon, no one can ever tell Sonic and Shadow apart, not even Sonic's best goddamn friends. Seriously, at least in the anime it's explained as being a deliberate set-up by GUN to cover their own asses regarding the Project Shadow disaster years ago. I know I've joked before about Sonic being an extremely average-looking Mobian hedgehog which is why he's so easily mistaken for other people, but seriously, Shadow and Sonic's profiles and quill style don't even look alike, let alone their fur color.
That is a very bizarre-looking Rouge. For whatever reason, they decided to draw her a lot in this era with like… claw hands, and I don't even understand where they got that from. In the game itself one of her upgrades is called "Pick Nails" and I guess you could extrapolate that to mean razor-sharp nails under her gloves that don't show up on her low-poly 3D model or something, but all her 2D art depicts her with normal-looking rounded fingertips, so I don't even know. Anyway, the comic goes on about how the president put together an elite task force to track Sonic down and arrest him for his supposed crimes, and now they've finally found him just outside Knothole. Man, if some randos from Station Square could find where Knothole was, how the hell has Eggman not figured it out yet? They pull out actual, deadly rifles and start firing wildly at him, and he dances around cheekily, stealing their guns and taunting them. This ends when they shoot an electrified net onto him, and soon he's handcuffed in the back of their helicopter, being taken to the hidden city. Of course, we know how this goes from here - he breaks free inside the 'copter and bursts out its side, peeling off a strip of metal to use as his makeshift skateboard, because even though this isn't the 90s anymore, it's still the 90s.
We're then treated to a short montage of Spaz's interpretation of City Escape - landing on the streets, surfing down sloped roads, soaping on walkway rails and leaping over any obstacles in his way. Honestly, the action is a bit hard to follow - Spaz is certainly a talented artist in many respects, but I think his decision here to move on from his somewhat simpler designs from before hurts rather than helps, as the action and lines become so chaotic that you have to really concentrate to follow what's going on. There's just a bit too much happening, so that your eyes are drawn all over the place without really focusing on a specific focal point of each image. But anyway, we all know how City Escape ends - with the iconic GUN truck chase!
And that's… it! No, seriously, that's all we get for the actual story of SA2. The final text box invites us to play the game itself to see how it all ends, but there's a number of problems with that, the foremost being that the game takes place in an entirely different canon. We've got completely different circumstances that led up to these events. We've got characters missing - Tails still hasn't been returned to Knothole yet, Knuckles is off somewhere else struggling with his newfound powers, and humans aren't even the dominant species on the planet like they are in the game. This would leave any comic fan with a bitter taste in their mouth, as there's no actual resolution provided and no explanation for how the story will play out with so many of the original players out of commission. Many issues from now, Ian Flynn actually addressed this exact problem and gave a condensed version of events to explain exactly what we're missing, so at least we have that to look forward to in the future. There is one more story after this, and I have additional problems with that one, but let's cover the rest of the issue before I give my final opinions.
As the Shadow Awakes!
Writer: Ken Penders
Pencils: Ron Lim
Colors: Frank Gagliardo
So this story actually jumps us back fifty years to see Shadow's beginnings. Professor Gerald, Eggman's grandfather on his mother's side, has been working for a long time on his latest project, which he hopes will see the end of disease and untimely death and even be able to cure his granddaughter Maria's unspecified terminal illness. This project is, of course, Shadow the Hedgehog, who, as an excited and astonished Gerald watches, begins to move inside his pod. The inexplicably-brunette Maria suddenly calls him at his lab, telling him that she can see a military spaceship flying toward the ARK, their space station, and Gerald, in a panic, orders her to come to him. He knows that the military is here to take possession of his project, and believing them to be too simple-minded to understand his intentions for the project, wants to evacuate immediately. He's immediately proven right, as the military men who board the station scoff at the idea that an "old scientist and his crippled granddaughter" could pose any trouble to them as they intend to take the professor's project by force. Gerald sends Maria and Shadow, the latter now out of his pod, to evacuate in an escape pod, but of course, we know how this ends…
I think this is the only Sonic media I can think of that actually directly shows Maria dying. In both the game and the anime, the shot happens offscreen, and Shadow is ejected before Maria actually takes her last breath. I do have a problem with how the scene is portrayed here, however, as a big conflict that Shadow goes through during SA2 is his vast misinterpretation of her last request to him, whereas here she seems to just die immediately without saying another word. The military takes Gerald into custody, and shortly thereafter recovers Shadow from the escape pod, taking them both to Prison Island where they force Gerald to continue his work under their supervision. Gerald, however, is devastated at Maria's death, and thus plans out his revenge in secret under the guise of continuing his work as demanded.
The military eventually caught on to his nefarious plans, and had Gerald executed and Shadow sealed away in suspended animation on Prison Island, where it remained undisturbed and forgotten for the next fifty years. Of course, this is what Eggman found on the island, and now he's poised to use his grandfather's own work to conquer the world. My biggest problem with this story, ultimately, is that it essentially acts as one huge spoiler for the game. Everyone now, almost twenty years on, probably knows the general gist of the story, but this comic was published when it was still very new, and this entire story basically spoils the biggest twist in the game right off the bat. Furthermore, in this story, Shadow literally wakes up, goes straight to the pod, watches Maria - who he knows nothing about - die, and then gets sealed away in his stasis pod for fifty years. There's literally no time for him to even develop a personality, let alone a relationship with Maria, which is the single most important thing in his backstory. I believe this was later retconned, but this is still a huge thing to overlook in an adaption of this game.
But anyway, yeah, that's it. That's all we get for the time being. A few brief glimpses of Shadow, and one whole cameo from Rouge. It will be a while yet before Shadow gets to make his reappearance, since like in the game, at the end of their adventure he falls from space and is subsequently believed to be dead. Honestly, the entire thing kind of gives off the impression that they felt like they had to make some kind of comic tie-in to the game, but didn't feel like interrupting what they already had going with the whole "Sonic goes to high school" thing, which is clearly far more interesting of a story. So they basically went "yeah, something like this happened, but now let's just get back to the real story." It's honestly very weird, so weird that, again, they needed a later fix-it issue to explain everything, but for now, we'll just have to move on.
#nala reads archie sonic preboot#archie sonic#archie sonic preboot#sonic the hedgehog#sth 98#writer: karl bollers#writer: ken penders#pencils: pat spaziante#pencils: ron lim#colors: pat spaziante#colors: nelson ribeiro#colors: frank gagliardo
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( tom payne, 37, cis male, he/him ) speaking of the bardet crime family, there goes VINCENT LOCKWOOD. I’ve heard that the BISEXUAL & SCORPIO works underground as SECOND HAND, but that’s all stuff of rumors. however, the fact that they’re notoriously + PROTECTIVE and + COURAGEOUS as well as - NEUROTIC and - QUIRKY doesn’t bode well for their rep. Baby Blue Eyes, a love for violence, designer tags.
Full Name: Vincent Charles Lockwood
Nickname(s): Vince, Vinnie
Age: Thirty-seven
Sexuality: Bisexual
Pronouns: He / Him
Height: 5ft 7in
🗣️ personality & morals ⚖️
introvert / extrovert / ambivert
risk-taker / cautious
organized / disorganized
close-minded / open-minded
calm / anxious / restless
disagreeable / agreeable / in-between
patient / impatient
outspoken / reserved
leader / follower / flexible
empathetic / un-empathetic
optimistic / pessimistic / realistic
traditional / modern / in-between
hard-working / lazy
Moral Alignment: Chaotic neutral
Guilty Pleasure(s): Violence, Drinking, Slight BDSM
👍 strengths & weaknesses 👎
Strengths/Skills: Physically fit, trained in martial arts, qualified criminal psychologist, manipulative, critical thinker, determined
Weaknesses: Self-hating, chaotic, aggressive
Mental Ailments: Schizophrenia (Genetic)
Physical Ailments: Slight shaking of his hands if he doesn’t take his medicine on time, or is very nervous/scared
🏠 lifestyle 🏠
Birthplace: Ponchatoula, New Orleans
Current Residence: Amiens, Louisiana
Education: High school diploma, Ph.D. in criminal psychology
Job: Second Hand Man to the Mafia boss
Hobbies: Reading, jiu-jitsu, Full-time Uncle
📚 backstory 📚
Childhood: Vincent was born in Ponchatoula, New Orleans. He is the twin brother of Cordelia Lockwood, but like a typical sibling who was born seventeen minutes after Cordelia, he quickly adapted to be the ‘baby’ of the family. They grew up very close and often communicated without words. Their parents used to be freaked out by how in tune with each other they were. Things were great for them up until they turned five, and their mother developed a mental illness called schizophrenia. Their father refused to admit that anything was wrong, which made for a very… rough childhood. Her delusions got worse and worse, and Cordelia and Vincent were unable to do anything to help. Vincent loved his mother, yet he could see how much pain this caused Cordelia watching their beautiful mother fade into a shadow of herself. Delia was always the one to try and play the older sibling shielding Vince from the decline of their mother’s health only letting him see the good days.
Adolescence: Vince had his first chance at seeing just how ugly Schizophrenia was when he found his mother’s dead body after she’d committed suicide at the age of thirteen. This forever was ingrained into his mind as the only way to really cure this curse. When Cordelia ran away, he felt even more alone, but he understood the need for her disconnect especially when their father just swept everything that happened under the rug. Around this time through Delia, he met Aiden Bardet and his family. They were like the family they’d never had, caring and loving everything that left their family with the death of their mother. Being Delia’s twin, he could sense how much Aiden had won over his sister’s heart, he was happy that his sister had finally found someone to love. Vince was never one to really take to dating people as most found him weird or odd. Even their Father barely gave them the time of day once they started spending their time with the Bardet, during this time they saw more of his money than they ever did of him.
Young Adulthood: After graduating from high school, Vincent decided that he wanted to study criminal psychology. Unlike his sister, he couldn’t deal with the same issues that caused his mother to take her life. So, he put all his focus on helping fix mental illnesses that lead to criminal acts. Instead of following his sister to Amiens he stayed home with their father using his money to get the best schooling he could. He still saw Cordelia and Aiden very often enjoying the fact that he had another person to pick on his ‘big’ sister. During this time Vince was able to fix some of his shattered relationship with his father despite how much Delia disliked her brother’s being around someone who she thought was pure evil, but she had just started living her own life and Vince would never overstep on such sweet new relationship.
Adulthood: When the twin’s turned twenty-one, Cordelia told Vince of Aiden’s mob boss status, he had mix feelings about mostly because during his schooling, he was looking at working for the FBI. But worried about the safely of his big sister, never really one to take on the overprotective role he struggled navigating these troubled waters. Vince pushed down his growing fear with Aiden’s and Delia reassurances that they’d be completely safe. But deep down he could feel something could happen, he loved both Aiden and Delia more than anyone else on this world and if anything happened to them, he’d burn the world trying to get justice. During this time Vincent’s time was tied up with school, as the classes grew harder and much more demanding so when he got the call from Aiden and sharp pain that shot through his arms alerting him to his sister's pain he dropped everything to be by their side helping his sister and Aiden get the help they needed so his sister wouldn’t ever take her life again. During this time, he moved closer to Aiden and Cordelia to ensure that he would always be there if they needed him going as far as to transfer all of his credits to a local college so he could still pursue his dream and take care of his family.
Later adulthood: After getting his Ph.D., the signs started, it started off small his hands and how they would shake when he’d feel anger, and anxiety. He kept it under wraps while Cordelia when through her wedding to Adien also got picked to be an FBI Profiler which the most exciting news for everyone in his family. With the birth of his first niece came the diagnosis he’d been dreading, now Vincent was diagnosed with Schizophrenia just like his mother had been. His entire world shattered and brighten at the same time, much like his mother the thoughts of suicide came to mind it but once he held Braelynn in his arms and saw how happy is sister and Adien had been with her birth he knew that to take his life would leave a hole that none of them could take. Instead, he sought out Cordelia’s opinion starting medication trying somewhat curb his Symptoms and make at least a functional human being.
At time went on, he was able to control his schizophrenia, but profiling had a way of feeling his head with different voices, one’s of murders and psychopaths. After a while, it took its toll making the FBI question his mental state, after an incident involving punching a stupid cop which led to the FBI firing him due to mental illness.
Present Day: When Aiden was killed, along with Andrew, and Mr. Bailey who was like a father to him and his sister, Vincent got the call from Cordelia, distraught and upset, almost matched his anger at the fact of being fired from the FBI over some stupid small-town sheriff. He knew his sister much like him struggled with suicide making it more important than the twin reunited once again if only for their sanity. He knew plenty about Cordelia, and if anything, he could feel her anger and he swore to Aiden he’d always look after Delia should anything happen to him and with all his free time now? At her side, he’d ensure her dream of a clean world would be reached with the two of them at the helm. With his sister on vengeance, watching his nieces has been left to him and their grandmother but he also spends his time ensuring that Cordelia starts taking care of herself.
💕 wanted relationships 💕
There is plenty of connection Vincent can have either with the police or the mob being Cordelia’s Right hand man, He also has been here for a while just to be close to his sister and family.
#eclatantintro#WOW THIS TOOK SOME TIME#tw sucidal thoughts#tw: Mental illness#tw: Suicide#⭒ ♛ ⭒ I'm never going to be normal. I've tried || Musings
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Well Cairn, going off established precedent, you have to start by slowly accruing some highly symbolic gemstone prosthetics. Just pretend that this is part seven of jojo and start competing with Phos to see who can obtain the most religiously significant body parts. Whoever has the most by the time the seventh meteor hits wins!
So about this chapter…
The part of this chapter that really merits discussion is one I kind of have trouble parsing—so much so I ended up rewriting this essay a couple times. Neither Cairngorm nor Aechmea are very forthright characters, which means you have to chase after subtext in order to guess at what’s really being communicated, and this chapter seems to really lean into that approach to dialogue. Which is to say, I’m kind of unsure of my interpretation of this chapter. But if I just throw in the towel now out of fear of misinterpreting my favorite problematic rock, then Ichikawa wins, and I can’t let her and her vaguely menacing self-portrait get the better of me.
At the start of the second half of the chapter, Cairn seems quite content, but the longer the (rather one-sided) conversation goes on, the more distressed they become. While it’s not made explicit what’s upsetting them, my take is that Aechmea’s attitude in this scene makes it harder for Cairngorm to manage their cognitive dissonance toward him. I’ve mentioned several times before that a number of things Cairngorm says and does indicate that they realize that Aechmea is shady and perhaps not operating in their best interest, but they don’t want to admit that to themselves. As long as Aechmea remains ambiguous, they can pretend that everything’s fine. I think that Cairn’s steadily increasing dismay over the course of the chapter is because pretty much everything Aechmea says here threatens to clarify those ambiguities, and said ambiguities resolve themselves in a way that Cairn isn’t terribly pleased with. Let’s take it from the top.
First, let’s address the initial stretch of the conversation. Aechmea implies that he doesn’t actually see any value in the gender roles he’s been encouraging Cairn to adopt, seeing them instead as simplistic tools to keep the other Lunarians occupied—mere bread and circuses. But while Cairn may not understand the implications of said gender roles, the fact that they made Cairn feel special and loved was enough to make them invested in the whole concept. So, for Aechmea to imply that it was all an act designed to provide fleeting, cheap entertainment for the other Lunarians probably feels like a slap in the face to Cairn.
In the same breath, he gently tells Cairn that he plans on isolating them in a compound on the most remote of the six moons, and that that’s his idea of granting Cairn freedom. This makes it completely clear that what Cairn said to him in chapter 71 went in one ear and out the other: Cairn wants to finally have agency and can’t abide doing nothing while everyone else is struggling, and Aechmea responds by making a drastic decision about their life without their input, one which will cut them off from the conflict they want to help resolve. As one might expect, Cairn doesn’t seem happy to hear this.
This next section of the conversation in which Aechmea tells them he’s loved them before they came to the moon also follows the pattern of being full of understated subtext that I apparently require two weeks to untangle and draw a conclusion from. It’s seems clear from their distraught expression, trembling, and the fact that they incredulously bring it up again a few minutes later that what Aechmea is saying upsets them. If I had to wager a guess, it’s because the implications are concerning regardless of whether or not Aechmea’s words are true. His claim is ludicrous and Cairn doesn’t want to believe that he’d try to feed them a bald-faced lie, but if he’s not lying then the implications are equally unsettling. I think Cairngorm is most comfortable believing that their meeting with Aechmea was a happy accident, because the alternative is that he was romancing them all while hiding ulterior motives. (Not that it really needs to be reiterated at this point, but these pages make my skin crawl, especially when you look back on Phos’s first day on the moon—with Aechmea trying to butter them up by them by telling them how special they are.)
Anyway, let’s assume for the sake of argument that Aechmea’s statement wasn’t complete bullshit, and that he had some sort of interest in Cairngorm before meeting them. The fact that he kept their old arm indicates that there’s something to what he said, as does the fact that he feels the need to distract Cairn with creepy makeouts when they try and press him for answers on this topic a few pages later. There are a couple of ways I could see it going, so I’m going to go on a tangent for a minute, and try to speculate on what might have piqued Aechmea’s interest in Cairn. I don’t feel that predicting future plot-events is really my forte, but sometimes I can’t resist trying to decipher a good puzzle.
Everyone connected to Phos is of interest to him, including Cairngorm. Several pivotal moments in Phos’s development have happened in front of the Lunarians, (I’m specifically thinking of the drama with Ventricosus and Phos’s gold arms.) It’s quite possible that Aechmea took an interest in the fact that one of the seemingly static gems was rapidly changing, and I think this line in chapter 54 alludes to this. As a result, he predicted that Phos’s path would cross his sooner or later, and didn’t dust their captured partners. I’ve said before that it is really suspicious that he happened to have a “fake” piece of Antarc on his person when Phos got to the moon. Even if it was artificial, there was no reason for him to have it made in the first place or for him to be carting it around unless he already had Phos on the brain. The fact that he apparently kept Cairngorm’s original arm makes me think that that piece of Antarc may not have been artificial at all, and that maybe he didn’t dust Antarc, Ghost, or Phos’s head in order to have some leverage over Phos later.
Another possibility is that he took interest in Ghost and Cairn’s unique condition on account of those mysterious gem experiments that he was running before Phos got to the moon. Since he was apparently trying (and failing) to create new gems by combing pieces of shattered gems with synthetic material, the fact that there was a gem who was a complete person despite being essentially a thin sheet of quartz may have been of interest to them. The main reason I think this might hold some weight is because the Lunarians were rather particular about nabbing Ghost instead of Caringorm in chapter 37. By the end of the fight, Cairn was completely wrecked, and the Lunarians could have easily taken them both before the other gems made it to the vessel. But instead, they pushed Cairn off as soon as they had collected Ghost. To compound this, they don’t usually try to sheer off the gems’ bodies in layers; they just try and shatter them. Which makes me think that they were specifically trying to get Ghost in this scene and leave Cairn behind, and that Aechmea later decided to keep their arm on a whim along with the pieces of Ghost. If this ends up being the case, then that begs the question of how the Lunarians could possibly know that Cairn and Ghost are two separate people; it’s not really something they could observe at a distance, especially since Cairn apparently rarely had control of their body. If this ends up being the route this subplot takes, you guys on team Obsidian-is-a-Lunarian-spy may be able to add this to your pile of evidence.
Following this is the triumphant return of the Highly Symbolic Arm, the importance of which I’ve been harping on for a while now. It’s also at this point in the conversation that Cairn is most visibly distressed. I’m of two minds regarding what this sequence is communicating. They are clearly quite opposed to reattaching their original arm at the expense of their replacement, but it’s not clear which replacement they’re holding onto. It’s possible that this is the same replacement arm they’ve had since their introduction, but it’s also possible that they got rid of that arm the night they came to the moon—it is after all a physical representation of their involvement in Phos/Ghost/Lapis three-ring circus. This page in chapter 69 would seem to imply the latter. That being said, Ichikawa has already established that Cairn’s replacement arm acts finicky whenever it has to be reattached—so it’s also possible that they still have the same arm they did before; the sequence of events is hazy enough that it could be read either way.
Needless to say, the sentiment behind Cairn being almost violently opposed to getting rid of their replacement arm changes significantly depending on whether or not that’s the arm Phos gave up their head to save, or an arm Aechmea gave them when they arrived on the moon. At the moment, I really can’t say one way or another. But I’m pretty sure this isn’t the last we’ve heard of Cairn’s left arm, so for now I’m content to wait and see.
All that being said, I think the emotion behind the action is clear: desperation. Whether that arm is one that Cairn associates with Phos or Aechmea, they are clearly desperate to cling to the connection it represents. Keeping in mind that just about everything Aechmea says in the chapter up to this point drives a wedge between himself and Cairn, I think that in this moment Cairn is forced to grapple with the idea of being truly alone, and out of all the characters, they’re the most ill-equipped to deal with that. I think I touched on this in my essay focused on them, but to reiterate: in spite of their desire for autonomy, Cairn cannot seem to envision themselves outside of another’s shadow. Whether they’re acting like Antarc for Phos or like an anime-waifu for Aechmea, they’re never really acting like themselves—whoever that might be. This is a bit of a tangent, but the way they’ve conceived of themselves in relation to Ghost is also kind of off-putting. They referred to Ghost as their “other self” in chapter 67, and if you’ve gotten the official translation of volume 6, you can see that they also refer to Ghost in similar terms in chapter 38. This has a rather concerning implication about their self-image or lack thereof.
The point is, they find a sense of stability and self-worth in tailoring themselves to the desires of others, and they see reattaching their original arm and discarding the replacement and everything it represents as tantamount to abandoning the (terrible) coping mechanism that’s keeping them somewhat functional.
Which makes this a very ironic moment for them to decide that they want to disappear along with Aechmea. I don’t know a whole lot about Buddhism, but I do know that one is supposed to let go of all attachments in order to attain nirvana. But in this scene, Cairn is conceiving of nirvana as a means to an end in order remain forever attached to Aechmea (and in the short term: relevant enough to his interests to avoid being banished to the farthest moon.)
The way I see it, if and when Cairn becomes enlightened enough to have any hope of disappearing, they’ll probably have grown past the desire to follow Aechmea off a cliff like a lemming in the first place. So I don’t see them getting what they want any time soon. What I am concerned about is the pattern of self-destructive behavior that lies behind this. While reading this chapter, it struck me that whenever Cairn is presented with a stressful or upsetting situation with no obvious solution, their first instinct is to—as Aechmea so succinctly put it—relinquish themselves. When a poor decision on their part ended with Phos losing their head, they wanted to give up their own head. When Phos didn’t wake up, they wanted to throw themselves into the ice floes. When Phos ends up devastated in chapter 67, they want to renounce their own personhood and pretend to be Antarc. This chapter also follows the same pattern: when faced with the upsetting possibility that Aechmea wants to set them aside like a toy he’s grown tired of, Cairn panics and responds with the most self-destructive possible solution to their problem. I think that until this underlying malaise is actually dealt with, they’re just going to keep circling back to the same “solution” over and over. It doesn’t matter so much that Cairn is currently about as enlightened as a cornflake; when the chips are down, they probably won’t let that stop them from essentially trying to kill themselves once again.
Well that was harrowing to write, but with all the melodrama out of the way, let’s delve into the real meat of this chapter.
We know that gems don’t have teeth or tongues, but I’ve also wondered for the longest time…do gems have nostrils? This shot from the anime makes it seem as if Phos does not have nostrils, but it’s hard to tell when everything is so stylized.
Thankfully, best boy Barbata has given us the answer. Here we can see that light is pouring out of the orifices on their heads, but conspicuously, there is no light coming from their noses; ergo, gems don’t have nostrils. No nostrils allowed in fanart from now on you guys, it’s now officially as much of a faux pas as drawing them with pores or teeth.
#houseki no kuni#land of the lustrous#sorry this is late#iirc ichikawa once said that she tries to have at least one lighthearted comedic moment per chapter#because a spoonful of sugar helps the horror go down#she sure utilized that technique to its fullest this chapter amiright
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𝒥𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝐸𝓃𝓉𝓇𝓎: 𝑅𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓉𝑜𝓃
Triggering content under the cut: emotional abuse, physical abuse.
Remington Asher.
Age: 19 (MKX), 23 (death)
Hair: Curly and Black.
Eyes: Hazel (Outworlder), Red eyes (when angered).
Height: 6'4 approximately.
Weight: 145lbs.
Abilities: Shadow manipulation, Darkness manipulation and shadow generation.
Species: Outworld-demon hybrid.
He is cunning, charming and cold, lying his way into nobility. A Lord with his family consisting of his sister and mother. From the moment he drew breath, he knew what he was capable of. With a devilish smile. His father, a demon from the Netherrealm, “died” two years after his birth. He was raised by his mother, a Outworlder countess. Sweet and warm, she wanted him to be raised without succumbing to the influence of his father who whispered in his ear that he was destined to take what he wanted.
POWERS
As most Outworlders often have supernatural ability, his mother did not have any to pass over. His father, however, did. Powers to manipulate the darkness and shadows around others. As a child, he was able to blend in the darkness, appearing to scare his mother at times. It didn't scare him when he was able to hide in the shadows, he found absolute comfort in the fact. In a way, he believed he was closer to his father. His mother did say to him, “Your father always liked the darkness so much, so much that fire was something he despised.”
His powers over manipulating shadows occurred at the age of 14, when he had gotten into a fight with his little sister. They got into an argument. She insulted him for being born of a demon, while she is fully-blooded Outworlder, and Remington, angered by the fact, crafted a knife made out of pure shadow and stabbed her in the shoulder, darkness slipping inside her body. It made her ill and tired for days. When he kills others or senses a kill, he can feel their soul leave this realm and pass to the Netherrealm.
PERSONALITY + LIFE
,Remington's title was able to get him into the deeper part of royal politics to get close to the Kahn as part of the royal court,. So he was there for it all. Mileena's rise to the throne , and Kotal's coup to usurp the throne. He once aided Mileena, but then chose to be with the Osh-Tekk.
He has always been one for getting what he wanted, and that's not just because of his title. If it had anything to do with power, appearance, anything, he uses his charms and silver tongue to have things work in his favor. He has a need for control, to have things go his way. Clothes ironed where there is not a single wrinkle in the fabric, hair combed to the right to accent his face, everything to standard. If it is not up to his idea, he will ensure that it is perfected.
ROLE IN IRIS'S LIFE
While Remington was aware that he may not live forever, he knew that there some secrets from other realms. Such as Sorai when it was merged, known for inhabiting dragons. Hybrids together can make someone practically immortal. But Remington wanted to know the secrets to their longevity, not just for himself but for Kotal's soldiers during the rise of the civil war created by Mileena, the former Kahnum. So, upon finding out the young princess was looking for a betrothal, he sought out the opportunity, even if she was at the bottom of the royal food chain.
“She is, by far, the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. Fair skin decorated with freckles the color of cinnamon, wavy hair red as the flames I know she inherits. A voice as melodic as a symphony. And her eyes, so bright, it's if you are staring into hell itself. And her personality, too. It's too . . . wild. Innocent. Ah, she's perfect. Perhaps she's the one who knows.” - Remington seeing Iris for the first time
At first, Remington only “liked” Iris for the assumption she knows something about Soraian lifespan, putting up the act that he is genuinely interested, going through the typical stages of courting, flowers, compliments, taking her to events. But then he noticed things about her, her beauty, her attitude, the crown. The Crown. Sure, being a part of Kotal's Kourt is well fun and all, but nothing compared to having the secrets of a long forgotten race, have this kingdom of the last of the Soraians, dragons.
He realized that he could shape her to his image of the perfect bride. She's young, so her mind could be easily warped to fit his design. She'll agree to him, listen and love him. If she showed her defiance, responses would be anger lacing his tone, or fierce grabbing by the arms or face, leaving thumbprint-shaped bruises on her skin to get his point across, sometimes using his powers to amplify the pain. And during their courtship, to public eye their relationship looked like the perfect power couple, but alone with Iris, he scolded, mocked her. Chose her outfits, limited her interactions with friends, dismissed her choice of clothing and opinion, made her choose when to be quiet. Chipped the pieces away that made her the strong and confident type, into someone who had low views of herself.
As things were getting serious, with Iris losing parts of what made her who she was prior to meeting him, he planned how to have the kingdom all to himself. But first, he needed what he came here for: the secrets. Believing Iris was lying to him, he hired Kano to beat the information out of her when he finishes planning his attack on the palace. If, by some miracle, she'd survive, he'd make her his bride with her now conquered kingdom. Then her friend Mia stumbled on his meeting coming to an end with the assassins, and eliminated her from the picture to keep her quiet. Her death drove Iris closer to him, where he further continued to make her into his design. When the palace was attacked and she was supposedly 'dead,' Remington began to obsess over her, thinking of how a beautiful queen she would have been, and how she will belong to her always.
So, months later upon hearing of Iris's return, he grew enraged. He expected her death to happen should she not have anything to say, but he did picture alive for months. Remington decided, after arranging a meeting with her in the throne room, to reveal what he had done, saying it was for his own interest. She was easy prey; and he didn't expect to like her, much less love her to a point she infects his waking thought.
“Marry me. Marry me, and your family will be free. You'll be safe.” He whispers ever so sweetly that it tastes like venom. “No one will hurt you. You will be my Queen. If not, you'll be executed for abandoning your kingdom.” - Remington.
After throwing her into the dungeon for her kicking him in the chin, he attempted to convince her to marry him or she would die at the first sign of dawn. Her family, her life would be spared if only she just agreed, and it should have been so easy. But Iris refused, no matter what he said, even when he choked her, nearly cutting off her air with his thumb at her windpipe. As she rejected him once again, he arranged for her death, until she tried to escape the very next morning. Since she wanted to run, she'll die doing just that: running for her life. He sent her to the coldest region, not caring where, and two assassins to torment and kill her.
If he couldn't have her, no one will.
HER RETURN & HIS DEATH
“Son of a bitch.. How can she be alive? It's if I have to do it myself. However . . . I am admiring the look. Muscle accents her arms, her face has lost the baby fat. The bangs on her forehead are swept to the side, exposing the scar I gave her. Her eyes are more beautiful since I've dreamed of them late in the night, and there's something about them. Vibrant red hair is turned into a braid, resting on her shoulder. She is so beautiful.” -Remington
When Remington saw her again after three years, he was completely enamored with her, and surprised by her saying she would marry him within a month's time. That she had said she loved him, would be his wife, even mentioning her fallen family. Which weren't really fallen, much to his chagrin. When he was waiting for the assassins to come back, his mother and sister had apparently freed her family from their prison and had them in Outworld. He didn't bother to go after them, since he managed to get some information on Soraian blood, how powerful it could be.
For the past 31 days, Remington was very pleased with the new Iris. She was more docile, calm, demure, sweet. At dinners, breakfasts, lunches, she always gave him a smile, or occasionally graze her shoulder against his. In public, she gave him kisses on the cheek. She was so agreeing to everything, while they planned the wedding. Finally, he had her in the shape he wanted her. This perfect bride, perfect wife. Until the day of their wedding, that is. Before they even said I do, there was a knife in his shoulder, ensuing a fight.
He was infuriated being fooled by her, not holding back with his shadows to attack her, using shadow monsters to hold her back while he attacked. He certainly didn't expect her to be trained in the arts of kombat, knowing how to evade and use her fire to slice through his creations. To even the playing field, he sent them to the Nether, in a dark area of the realm, where the shadows obey him. He had the advantage, not giving Iris a chance to get a strike in before he had her on the ground.
“Doesn't this bring me back... Oh, that's right. That's the face your little friend made before she met the fatal blade. Guess you two were like sisters, after all. A shame, my Rainbow. You would have been an amazing queen.”
He leaned down, pressing a b l o o d y kiss against her lips, inhaling as he formed a knife out of pure darkness. But before he could do that, Iris slammed her skull against his, and retaliated with wave of fire coming towards him, knocking him flat on his ass. When she dug her hands into his chest, he screamed out, trying to stop her, screaming that she will regret it. The last thing he saw was her clutching his still beating heart in her hands with a sadistic smile.
Even though he had died, Remington's words and actions upon her still impacts her on a daily basis. Giving her insecurities about herself, confidence doesn't seem to be strong. Occasionally, she will rub a scar above her right eyebrow, where he hit her with his shadows. It is the only place on her body that feels cold. He made her extremely cautious to expose her heart to others she feels a romantic connection to, fearing they would use it against her. Nightmares will plague her in the night, of him coming back to life, choking her, finishing the fight she started. After his death, she feared her own shadow, thinking he could hide in them.
#𝔄𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔇𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔰 (𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫)#long post#{{ No one:#{{ Not a soul:#{{ Not the Lin Kuei:#{{ Me: LONG ASS HEADCANON AHOY#{{ this is over 1k teetering into 2k#{{ now i must write a paper for my class
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