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#so he leaves behind his humanity and becomes an extension of the army

whitexwolfxx310 · 1 year

Text

Taking Control Over The Big Bad (White) Wolf

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: Learning the news that you no longer have to stay at The Compound, Bucky makes a scary but enticing offer.

Warnings: 18+ for this post, dominance kink, life decisions, argument with parents, Y/N, sexual content, cursing, cockwarming, fluff, angst.

Word Count: 3688

Gif: Credit goes to magnusedom

Notes: Yes, a part of this was requested!

Tag List: @peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza

Previous Part

Masterlist

You have been living out all of your daydreams with Bucky recently. Ever since spending that one night together, he has become more visibly relaxed. It doesn’t look like he’s .5 seconds away from giving himself a brain aneurysm. Well, most of the time at least. While you each have your own apartment, neither of you have slept alone in weeks. That also means Bucky no longer sleeps on the cold floor. He struggles sometimes, becoming antsy as he tries to get comfortable. It’s as if the more relaxed he strives to be, the more restless he becomes.

There have been many fulfilled late nights and some of the best ways to start the day; with each other. Reaching that new level of comfort with one another really took your relationship to the next level. It’s at the point where you’re still learning about one another but passed the awkward stage where it’s uncomfortable to show who you really are. Speaking of learning more about each other, it’s not just the history or experiences you both have had. (Although, the focus tends to be on yourself or Bucky’s young adult life before getting drafted into the Army.) It’s the exploring. Being completely exposed, vulnerable, and getting to know every inch of each others body’s. What he likes and dislikes, what drives him to the edge and vice versa for yourself.

Bucky is always eager to please and even more so to learn. Sex and intimacy have come a looong way over the decades. Positions, toys, enhancements (not that either of you need them, but they’re still fun), and not just restricting yourselves to the bed. Good thing that The Compound is sound proof. Everyone around seems to have an idea of what’s going on behind closed doors, but they don’t need to hear it. So far, Bucky has shown the most interest in exploring different surfaces (the shower and couch seem to be his favorite) and also asserting some kind of a dominant role.

It makes sense because of how compliant he had to be for so many years. Feeling constantly controlled, it would be only human to be intrigued by the other side of things. He’s still always sweet, sometimes almost too gentle. We’ll work on that.

There are two ways of looking at this; One: Bucky is still experimenting. He’s trying to find balance between his pleasure and yours. Two: He’s afraid of going too far and hurting you. While you can appreciate his care and concern for your well being, there’s this dark entity inside begging for a cool metal hand necklace.

*Ding* Your attention gets drawn to the New Email notification on your phone. Sitting down at the island in his kitchen, wearing one of Bucky’s t-shirts and a pair of lace cheeky panties, you bring one knee up to hug it as you unlock your phone. Bucky’s on the other side of the island, cleaning. Always fucking cleaning. You open the email.

“Dear Y/N,

The Compound has been deemed safe once again. We are no longer concerned about a possible breach. You are able to return to your normal work schedule and are free to go home at your leisure. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to call my extension (3000).

Thank you,

Pepper Potts”

Leave? You have been so caught up in the whirlwind that is Bucky Barnes that it was completely forgotten that The Compound wasn’t your home. It feels as though this perfect timespan has completely crumbled unexpectedly underneath your feet.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asks, staring intently at you from the stove worried.

“I- I was told I could go home.” You say, sorrowfully.

“Hold on. What?” He responds, needing to hear you say it again as if he doesn’t believe you.

“They cleared the possible breach… I don’t have to stay here anymore.”

Bucky doesn’t say a word but it is very obvious that the wheels are turning in his head, trying to think of a way around this.

“We knew this day was coming though, right?” You say, trying to lighten the mood. But its clear that this news has disheartened you both.

Within the blink of an eye he had taken a few long strides, standing now to your side. His metal arm reaches across your lap to grip the chair, quickly turning the chair so that you’re face to face.

“Don’t go…” He begs softly unable to look you in the eyes.

“I…w-what do you mean, Bucky?” You’re genuinely confused as to what he’s trying to imply.

“Stay.” It comes out as a heavy breath. “Here… with me.” He’s finally able to look you in the eyes, and he seems… distressed? Scared? Worried that if you leave his sight that you’ll somehow never come back?

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” Sitting there stunned, holding your breath, you wait for his answer. Either way you’re terrified. Because either one, he literally just asked you to move in. Or two, you completely misinterpreted what he was saying and you’re about to feel like the worlds biggest idiot.

“I know it’s crazy…” Bucky starts, trying hard to think before he speaks in fear of coming off as too much and scaring you away. “And at the risk of sounding utterly selfish in saying this, I don’t feel as though my every move is being microscopically analyzed when you’re with me. I’ve gained trust back with you. I-I’m infatuated with you. Y/N.” His jaw is clenched, the vein in his temple looks as though it’s about to combust from his admission.

Infatuated? What do I even say to that? Your mind starts racing. Flashes of your possible life with Bucky start taking over your mind. Living together and waking up to those perfect pancakes he makes every morning. How instantly protective he is of you whenever you’re in public. The most passionate and intense sex that some people only dream about having. Slow dancing to the record player in the living room every night. Him wearing an all black suit, feeling comfortable with no gloves waiting for you at the end of the isle. What kind of dad would he be? Does he even want those things?

All of his focus is on waiting for your answer. His breathing drawn out as he tries to control it to not seem as nervous as he feels. A part of you wants to only dip your toe in the water, to take things slow because this can be a tough life when you’re so attached from the feelings involved. The other part of you wants to just dive right in. You want to live together? Yes. You want to get married and start a family? Yes. You’re talking about a future that surrounds each other? Yes, yes, and yes. The thought is terrifying but exhilarating at the same time. But the difficult journey could lead to an amazing destination. There’s no way to find out unless you try.

“That’s a really big decision, Bucky…” You start, and his head instantly falls forward in disappointment. “But…” His head picks back up, your gaze meeting each others. “Let’s try.”

His eyes widen in excitement. “Really?!” I’ve never seen him this animated about anything before.

“Really.” Your eyebrows raise as your lips curve upwards into a beaming smile at not just the possibility, but the reality of this happening.

“Ugh, Y/N. Just when I thought I couldn’t get any happier. You always surprise me!” Bucky quickly snatches you from the high counter chair at the island. The giggles effortlessly flow out as he picks you up and spins you around once. Placing your feet firmly back on the ground, he cups the left side of your face with right hand.

“You do realize this means that your place probably won’t be spotless anymore, right?”

“Our place” He corrects, mirroring the giant cheesy smile. “Worth it.” He says, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. "Get ready, let's go and get your stuff."

Sitting in the passenger seat, you look over at Bucky. It's one of those moments where you feel like the luckiest woman in the world. This is a moment you'll remember for a lifetime. He has dark sunglasses on, concentrating on the mostly empty road. With being tall, he props his left knee underneath the steering wheel, using it to maintain the car straight. His right hand reached over, resting on your knee and giving it a gentle squeeze as his thumb rubs smoothly over it. The golden hue from the fall foliage makes his outline glow, as if he were an angel.

How is this even real life?

Coming back into the current moment, you recognize the song on the radio. Bucky actually let you control the music for once. Which is probably something he is going to regret.

"I love this song!" You exclaim, turning the volume up. But of course not too high for the old man.

"She's the one, she'll always be there She took my hand and I made it, I swear Because I fell in love with the girl at the rock show She said, "What?", and I told her that I didn't know She's so cool, gonna sneak in through her window Everything's better when she's around I can't wait 'til her parents go out of town I fell in love with the girl at the rock show!"

You stop, realizing that Bucky is looking over at you and not the road anymore. "You doing that staring thing again." You laugh. "What?!" You ask, suddenly feeling self conscious from singing.

He smiles, shaking his head. "I just enjoy being around you." It's the simplicity of being yourself that he admires most. Every move isn't articulated or pre-planned. There is no immediate danger. Life can be uncomplicated when you're free to be yourself.

The thought of just being with each other makes you feel warm inside. Who would of figured that you two would be the ones leaning on each other?

The rest of the car ride was pretty quiet. No particular reason, just relishing in the cool autumn weather for the duration of the drive.

Soon enough you're on the dirt road leading up to your parents house. Getting closer, you notice that both cars are parked in front, meaning both of them were home. Bucky parks and looks over at you, seeing what your reaction is going to be. You squeeze his hand that is still on your knee and smile. "Just give me a moment to grab some things, okay?" You say, still holding his hand for reassurance.

"Okay." He reluctantly let's go of your knee as you get out of the car.

Walking up to the front door, you know the conversation that is about to be had. Your jaw clenches in anxiety as you enter the house.

"Oh hey, sweetie!" Mom says, pausing from dusting the pictures on the mantel. "We were wondering when you would be coming home!"

"About that..." You start, taking a deep breath as your hands ball up into fists from being nervous. "I've decided to stay at The Compound. I just came here for my things." It gets blurted out.

"Oh?" Mom replies, waiting to see if there is more of an explanation than you've provided.

"Why is that?" Dad asks from the hallway, leaning on the frame. His sudden appearance makes you jump, not knowing he was right there. The ball of nerves inside of you doesn't necessarily help the situation either.

"We all knew my staying here was temporary..." You say truthfully, but it still comes out like an excuse.

"So...it's in relation to your job then?" His eyebrows raise. You were taught better than to lie, especially to him. And even if you tried, he would know.

"Kind of." Your response is dancing around the whole truth. "I don't have a lot of time." You say as you briskly walk into your room. It won't be hard to pack since you have been living out of suitcases since you came home from college. Not taking the time to fold your clothes, you shove them all into the collection of duffle bags and luggage.

"I'm confused..." Mom says as she walks into the room.

"There isn't anything to be confused about." Not being able to look at her, you continue to pack your bags rapidly.

"You don't see what's happening here?" Dad directs the question towards mom and then quickly answers for her. "This is about James."

"James?" Still confused, she looks between you and your father.

An exacerbated sigh comes from your mouth as you angerly slam a shirt down into your bag, now glaring at your father.

"So what if it is?" You challenge.

"You know how I feel about him..." Dad keeps a level, monotoned voice as if you were negotiating over a hostage situation. He takes a step forward but you hold your ground.

"And you know how I feel about him, Dad! This is the first time I have felt happy in the year and a half since Luke died!"

Mom stands in the room, looking between the two of you anxiously. Dad sighs, evidently starting to get more annoyed at the thought of you and Bucky together. "Why can't I have this, Dad?" You ask, feeling defeated. "We took a loss as a family, together. We got through it, together. But this is something that I want and I feel as though Luke would be happy for me!"

There's suddenly a knock at the door. Closing your eyes in frustration, you already know who it is. Your head rolls forward and you slip passed your parents and open the door to no other than Bucky. He only takes one step into the doorway, just enough for the screen door to close behind him. He clears his throat, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Sir." He acknowledges your father only to be met with an intense stare. Well if they're going to have a staring contest, sorry dad but you're going to lose.

“James.” He sternly acknowledges.

Bucky turns to you, leaning in close as his hand gently holds your elbow. “Are you okay?” He asks, concerned. You nod your head looking over at your dad knowing that it’s just an amount of time before one or both of them explode.

“This is a family matter, Barnes.” Heeeere we go.

The scary thing about Bucky is that when he’s mad, he gets quiet. There’s no temper tantrums, no yelling, and no low blows. Thanks to Hydra, he’s an expert at not reacting when under immense pressure. While the circumstances are different, he’s on the defense. Your defense.

“I understand. I just wanted to make sure Y/N’s okay.” Bucky says in the same monotoned voice that your father just used on you a few moments before. “I’m not trying to interject here-“

“So then why are you?” Dad spits, growing angrier by the moment. Bucky standing here might just put him over the edge.

You quickly step between both of them bringing their focus to you. “Enough.” You say blatantly. “Dad… mom.” You take in a deep breath. “This is what I want. He is what I want. If you reject him than you’re rejecting me.”

The two stubborn men in the room are watching each other intently while trying to lay down the unspoken claim of who you actually belong to.

“I’m grabbing my things and we’re leaving. I understand that this might be a lot to take in at once, so I’ll give you time to process. You know how to get in contact with me. I love you guys.”

Reaching down to the floor, you pick up two of your bags. Bucky reaches down as well, slipping his gloved metal arm through all of the handles and picking up the rest of the stuff. He looks like me when I’ve gone grocery shopping and only want to make one trip from the car. And effortlessly of course. He holds the door open for you to walk outside, and follows right behind.

In silence you both pack the car and leave. There is an unspoken tension between the two of you. How did this day go from being so happy, so excited to head into a new journey together, to this?

"Parents usually love me." Bucky says, breaking the silence by trying to be funny.

"I'm sorry." You respond. Bucky shakes his head. "Really, I'm used to these kinds of reactions from people. I think that you're the only one who hasn't run off the moment we met." He admits.

"Still. I can't apologize for him but I can be sorry that you were treated that way."

"Seriously, it's more natural for people to react that way. You're the only one who hasn't, Y/N. That's what makes you so precious to me."

The ball of anxiety in your stomach starts turning into warm butterflies all over again. I don't understand how so many see Bucky as this deadly, soulless person. He has such a big and kind heart. And while yes, he's past is hard to get over, working hard on himself and making amends with everyone he can, speaks volumes about his true self.

"It finally looks as though someone lives in here!" You say, hands on your hips looking around the newly decorated living room.

"Yeeeah." Bucky says as he scratches the back of his head.

"Oh come on. Having me around all the time won't be so bad."

He laughs while taking a few steps closer, wrapping his arms around you. "That sounds terrible, honestly." He jokes, pulling you in closer. You'll never get over just how warm his body feels when pressed to yours, which makes no physical contact feel just that much cooler.

Jumping up, you wrap your legs around his waist, being overcome with the need to be as close to him as you possibly can. Bucky of course supports your weight effortlessly, each palm grabbing a fistful of your ass. Your arms wrap around his neck as you lean in to kiss him. He moves his right middle finger to gently stroke once over your center. Pulling away from the kiss you let out a giggle, "Oh hey."

"Hey." He smirks, resuming the kiss and brings you to the couch. Sitting down with your arms still around each other, you're now straddling him. Your hips instinctively and tentatively start moving forward and back on his lap. A shallow breath escapes Bucky's mouth with a muffled moan underneath. You smile into the kiss and then pull back. He leans back in to continue the kiss but you withdraw further. Confused, he's looking up at you, his eyes pleading.

Shaking your head and grinning, you take your arms away from his neck, your hands wriggling down between your legs and reach of the hem of his jeans. A sharp breath pulls in from his lips as he keeps eye contact with you. Undoing the button and pulling down the zipper painfully slow, you decide to take on the assertive role here. Your power over one of the most feared men in the world, begging at just the very touch of your hands. Just the thought alone is enough to get you off. But neither of us are getting that right now.

Releasing his erection from his boxer briefs, his hips naturally advance towards your hands. And you let your hands drop away from him.

"What-" Bucky starts, but you place an index finger of his lips. "Shh." You coo quietly. "I'm going to do whatever I want." His eyebrows raise in response but he doesn't protest. After giving him a moment to realize that he is now under your control, you spit into your left hand before moving it back down to the small gap between both of your legs. You grip his shaft firmly, but not aggressively. Your hand starts in a leisurely up and down motion.

You take his bare metal hand and place it between your thighs. "Rip them." You say sternly while grasping onto him slightly harder. Following your orders, his fingers move upward to the waistband of your leggings and pulls swiftly downward. The tearing of the fabric makes your entire body tingle. Bucky discards the remnants of your pants onto the floor, leaving your lower half covered only by a thin, lacy piece of fabric.

Raising yourself up while still straddled in his lap, you gently use your hand to maneuver his tip to your only slightly covered opening. He takes a deep breath as his head rolls back to meet with the top of the couch. His hands twitch slightly on your thighs, trying to control the desire to flip around and bend you over the couch.

Now using your left hand, you pull the material to the side and gently glide him in. His hips try to buck up into you, but still having a firm grasp, you hold him in place.

"No." You say strictly, and he reluctantly relaxes. Continuing to slide him in inch by inch he looks up into your eyes. A small moan escapes his mouth once he is fully inside of you.

You pull him in close to your chest, tenderly running your hands through his hair. Aside from your core having the natural tendency to constrict around him, you don't allow your hips to move. Bucky's breathing intensifies just from the sensation of being inside of you along with your nails in his hair. "Not a word." You whisper, still keeping your body rigid, painfully refusing both of you the release that you so desperately want. But the continuation of your hands rubbing through his hair, down his back, and sensually up and down his arms lulls him to sleep right then and there after a while. You grin to yourself, barely being able to contain the excitement you feel for the repercussions you're going to face for this.

Next part

381 notes · View notes

wixelt · 9 months

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The way actualization works needs to have some established rules behind it, since as it stands there are possibly two components laid out, one established and one somewhat assumed but left unsaid. You said for sure that learning player things from players is required, presumably continued study over a long period. although this alone would apply to anyone from Hop Pop to The Core. Grime, Tritonio, Valeriana, Andrias probably, Gary. The odds of half the population of Wartwood becoming Players exponentially as time passes and the concentration of Hermits increases. At the very least, this includes the IT gals, Dr. Jan, and Terry. At some extreme end, this could mean the US Military starts training unaging magic super soldiers.

But the second component limits this a good amount. It's kind of implied that a genuine, deep, probably pointedly positive, connection to a player is required for actualization. This cuts the numbers down quite a bit, we likely won't get a missive influx of super powered side characters, no matter how hilarious as that image is and how much it may fit Wartwood's canonical status of army of cryptid country bumpkins, as well as removing Gary, The Military, and The Core for sure. The IT gals come down to how ride or die Xisuma is to them, but they may not have long enough for it to set in. The same applies to the other earth squad characters.

I have only really thought of one more setting rule but I may also have a potential narrative rule.

The first setting rule would state that only 'mature' Players can transmit their power. Player Maturity takes a long ass time. I'm leaving it up to you but I was considering anywhere between a lifetime and their first few centuries. this avoids both the plot hole of why Players aren't exponential in number and by extension the retconning of the backstory of this setting's Amphibia.

The narrative rule, that I will only be proposing, is one I call 'The Hop Pop Standard.' It is a rule that, for the purposes of maintaining thematic coherency with Amphibia and imposing a hard limit on where the line for who becomes a player in-story. This rule may need to be reevaluated later down the line depending on how the AU develops because if things change it has a high chance to stop functioning.

Simply, this rule would state that Actualization would have to maintain rules and caveats that insure that Hop Pop becoming a Player would be breaking the established world building. More broadly, a line should be drawn to prevent parental figures of Amphibia's main cast members from becoming players, for the purpose of keeping the rules strict enough that the number of characters capable of Actualization is appropriately small, as well as keeping a tangibly permanent reflection of Amphibia's themes present in-story.

As interesting as exploring Andrias eventually achieving a true form of immortality as a reward for his redemption and recompense would be, succeeding with kindness where his ancestors failed with cruelty, I'm willing to give it up if doing so ended up giving precedent for an ever expanding list of characters becoming Players. He himself is not a parental figure for any of the girls but allowing him in may bring up questions of why him and not people closer to the girls.

I am opposed to blocking Ivy from eventually Actualizing, mostly for Sprig related reasons, but that does mean she needs a bonded hermit, and this ask is already long so I'll put my nomination in another ask.

(Sorry for the wait, but I wanted to be in the right mindset first. :D)

I don't know for sure that player-to-player knowledge is an absolute requirement of actualisation, but its for sure one of the most common components. And - more importantly - its likely the only common component available for prospective players in our AU.

The need for player "maturity" - I'd say it takes a human lifetime on average, but varies based on a player coming into their own - helps keep the numbers down. Retcon averted.

It makes sense a "newborn" player lacks the experience to help another on their way.

As you say, though, this could apply to most characters if that was all it took, & there'd be exponential growth with how populous Amphibia & Earth are. Also, villains - from as of-the-week as Gary to as terrifying as the Core - aren't folks you want acquiring immortal power just by doing the reading of False's mind.

There's got to be more to it.

But that's where the inferred 2nd component of at least this method (as noted, there are others - the multiverse is big) comes in: the positive relationship. It wasn't something I'd consciously decided, but it does make sense that you don't attune to a new existence just by understanding the theory. It takes deep bonds with those already of that ilk.

Ivy has Joe. Maddie has Cub. Polly has Cleo.

Sprig has Grian/Stress/Ren/Doc.

Ally & Jess might have Xisuma (X likes them but this would be based on how much he interacts with the IT Gals post-Invasion).

Marcy has Mumbo.

Sasha has Scar.

And Anne has False.

So it tracks. And while the lack of a superpowered Wartwood resistance is a missed glory, I think its worth it to deprive the villain side of things - and Mr. X, as much as I love him - of easy power.

Besides, have you seen Wartwood? They're already OP as is!

And the 'Hop Pop Standard' works as a starting baseline for eligibilty, even if we have to change it later. It wouldn't feel right for his character for Hop Pop to be a "Player", so using him as a benchmark for someone not qualifying to keep numbers down & Amphibia's themes intact is sensible.

For him - & other primary parental figures, as mentioned - I imagine its not because he lacks the bonds, but more because he's fine where he is in his life & chooses not to advance despite his intelligence.

And yeah, even accepting his eventual redemption, I don't see Andrias getting actualisation as a karmic reward. I wouldn't give him this even if the rules were more relaxed, as it feels more in his nature to shy away from such ideas now he's free of his family burden.

If Hop Pop isn't going to wake up one morning with a suddenly there inventory full of light grey glass, neither is the former King.

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godlygreta · 2 years

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royal secrets | s. & j. kiszka

title | royal secrets

summary | after gaining the throne, queen y/n of altea is arranged for marriage to solidify an ally, prince jacob kiszka of greta just so happens to be next in line for the throne. however, the kiszka boys have grown up since you last saw them. while getting close with jacob, you also got close with prince sam as well. what happens when close becomes too close?

warnings | ah sexual scenes (f. receiving), masturbation, mentions of death, slight angst, knives and palm cutting; most of my works are 18+ and that does not change with this two part series.

word count | 14.3k+

author’s note | if u read this before i reworked it.......no u didn't..... i hope you guys enjoy this, i had a hell of a time writing this! this piece in particular was really fun to write. thank you guys for reading and have a wonderful time :) it might take a while for part two, but it'll definitely be worth the wait !! i've got A LOT in store for you guys with this story

DISCLAIMER !!

please keep in mind that this is not historically accurate by any means. this is a work of fiction, i tried to keep it as relatively close as i could to historical accuracy, but i am also a college student with a part time job. i wish i had the time to do extensive research, i really do. some of this is loosely based off of shows that i’ve seen (like the wedding scene from outlander - their vows are beautiful).

part two

Time had begun to move differently for you now. All within the span of a week, you went from a Queen within the comforts of your own castle, to being engaged to be married in someone else’s. You had known your future husband for a while, visiting their kingdom for years. You had become familiarly acquainted with your new husband long before this moment where he stood before you. Jacob Kiszka.

The Kiszka’s were notorious for being kind and gentle rulers. Ever since their father had stepped into rule, the land had been welcomed within a familiar haze of peace and unity. Once their father had gotten sick, he relinquished his throne to his eldest, Joshua. Often Joshua would go to his father for advice, asking him questions on human relations, finding peace within the villagers.

When Greta inevitably got caught up within the war, Joshua was one of the first to offer a helping hand. His pacifism was pushed to the side with the death of a loved one. A soldier from a neighboring kingdom had perished due to the beginning war between Gideon and Balterra. His heart fell when he heard the news. Inexperienced in the dealings of war, Joshua and the small army he sent had perished as well. The funeral they held for their beloved king lasted a week, the country’s mourning lasting a long while after that week had ended.

Karen, Joshua’s mother, had become slightly withdrawn in the days that followed after the news of Joshua’s death. Her days were filled with long walks along the shoreline of the lake behind their castle, in their private garden, and even through the hallways. Her mind fogged with memories of Jacob and Joshua’s adventures, their laughter bouncing off the walls of the castle.

She caught word that you were finally old enough to marry, your parents had put the word out there that you were of age. She instantly sent out a letter, requesting the audience of your parents. They met at once, reliving the memories of their children in their younger years, your parents wishing Karen the best in her path to healing after the death of her eldest.

Karen became distracted with the wedding. You were to stay at the castle in the meantime, the wedding coming with the spring. It was fall now, leaves littering the ground in hues of brown, orange, yellow and red. There was plenty of time until the wedding ceremony for you to be able to catch up with Jacob, seeing how the ages have treated the both of you.

The reality of the war is what pushed your parents to arrange the marriage between you and Jacob. Between your kingdom, Altea, and Greta you would be able to provide sufficient support to your allies if needed.

The memory filled your mind of the last time you had seen Jacob. He and Joshua were barely thirteen, their birthday just around the corner. They had begun to run around the halls, their smiles wide as you attempted to follow in suit. The dress you wore always kept you a step or two behind them. “Jacob! Joshua! Wait for me!”

You grumbled as they beat you to their joined room, sitting at the table in the middle as if they had already been there waiting for you for ages. You grumpily sat next to them, across from Sam’s chair. He was nowhere to be seen, his mother probably stealing him away for lessons.

“Admit it, you’re just mad because you’re not nearly as fast as Jake and I.”

“I am not! My dress weighs me down, you twit. I’d beat your butt in a race any day!” You pouted, your arms crossed over your chest. The subject was left alone when Sam walked in, excited to show you and his siblings what he had just learned in piano lessons.

“Follow me, guys! Leo says I’m getting really good!” The enthusiasm in his voice carried through the hallways. Jacob and Joshua had already made it to the music room while you walked with Sam. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you behind like my brother’s do.”

“Thank you, Sammy.” You tried your hardest to make it there in a timely manner, watching as Sam rushed over to the keys. He played a beautiful melody, Joshua wanting to learn it as soon as Sam finished playing. All of you giggled as Joshua tried to play the same thing Sam just finished, but faltered.

“Oh, shut up!” Joshua spoke, face glowing a bright red shade, storming out of the music room, leaving you with Jacob and Sam. Your mother and father walked in, your mother extending her hand out towards you.

“Come now, Y/N. We must return home. Say goodbye to Jacob and Sam.” Your face filled with sorrow as you turned towards the boys. You gave both of them a hug before returning to your mother’s side. You gave them one last look before walking out the door.

Now, Jacob was twenty-two, Sam was twenty.

The nerves inside of your stomach were seemingly foreign as you watched the fields pass by. The closer you got to the Kiszka’s Castle, the more butterflies seemed to swarm inside. You had no reason to be nervous, the boys would always just be the boys. You imagined them to look pretty much the same, maybe their faces had become a little more elongated, maybe they had gotten much taller than they were before.

The castle’s exterior hadn’t really changed, however the flowers in the front seemed to be more bright, more of them littered everywhere. You had figured that equated to Joshua’s death, the village leaving flowers at the front of the castle in memoriam to their king. You had shouted to the driver to stop the carriage, having your own bouquet of flowers to leave for Joshua.

When you heard the news, your heart broke. The sweet, innocent, sunshine boy who made the most fun out of nothing was gone. Just like that. Your heart ached for weeks, an emptiness taking its rightful place where your stomach was. Food was not consumed, although your parents protested as well as your trusted advisor. It took you a good two weeks to finally get back to a normal eating schedule.

Once you had gotten past the wall, the colors of the village shined brightly through the window. It seemed as though all of the hues of the summer had decided to stick around into the fall. Normally, the colors would have dulled out, their once vibrant hues turning into deeper tones. Yellows would become muddied, blues would become more somber.

People of their kingdom waved to you, smiles wide as they watched your carriage roll by. Coming back to the Kiszka Castle always felt warm, welcoming. Sunshine.

The familiar Kiszka smile was waiting for you, Karen and Kelly standing outside the castle’s doors. The driver’s hand extended itself to you, taking it as you stepped off from the carriage. You gave his hand a squeeze, whispering, “Thank you.”

“Pleasure is all mine, Your Highness.”

You walked with your driver towards the castle, the nerves in your stomach growing larger and larger, some of those butterflies escaping towards your throat. You hadn’t seen them in years. They hadn’t seen you in years. “Y/N! How good it is to see you once again. You’re still just as beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you spoke, returning the kisses Karen planted on each cheek. “The castle still looks as vibrant as it always has.”

“Yes, we try to keep the colors lively. Josh always wanted to repaint the castle every year. He enacted that as the first thing he did when he became king.” You could tell her heart was heavy when she talked about Joshua. Your heart fell a little too, a tightness becoming in your chest. “But nevermind such sad reminders of a happy boy. We should get going, the boys should be done with their fencing lessons soon.”

You wanted to snicker, imagining the boys fencing. It seemed like such a funny thing - the two of them actually dueling. They had done so before as children, but somehow them being older made the idea seem more comical. Although, you had still pictured them as kids. Tinier boys, frantically running around, wooden swords in their hands.

That was not the case. The boys had their helmets on, one arm pinned behind their back, the other using their sword as an extension of their own arm. They were agile, fast and light on their feet. They moved like dancers, their bodies twisting and contorting in odd ways to evade the other’s blade. They had gotten taller, though you could still pick out who was who. Sam’s slender, long body moved expertly against Jacob’s shorter stature. Karen called out to them, “Boys!”

Their heads turned towards their mother, Jacob noticing Sam’s attention focused elsewhere. He took the opportunity to touch the blade to Sam’s chest, meaning he had won the round. Sam shouted in protest, saying that since their mother had called to them, that this win was not justified and that they still had to finish their match. “You’re a sore loser, Sam, just say that.”

You watched as they each removed their helmets, Sam’s hair miles longer than you remembered it to be. Jacob’s as well. Your breath caught in your throat, not taking into consideration just how much the boys had grown up since they were around thirteen years old. Their hair each stuck to their face, your eyes catching a strand stuck to Jacob’s lips. “Boys, you remember Y/N. She’ll be staying with us until she and Jacob are to be married in the spring.”

“Nice to see you again, Your Highness.” Jacob bowed slightly, Sam followed in suit.

“Please, Jacob, we are past formalities.” You stepped towards them, picking up your dress as you walked down the stairs. “You can simply call me Y/N. You used to do it all the time, remember?”

“I do,” he smiled, grabbing your hand and kissing it gently. You blushed a light pink color, you had never known Jacob to be sweet. He was still the rambunctious ‘girls have cooties’ little boy in your mind. “I’d hug you, but I’m afraid fencing has left me incredibly sweaty.”

“That’s alright.” You turned towards Sam, studying his facial features and the way his face had changed since childhood. His prominent nose stuck out to you most, eyes almost staring at his for too long. “You have got magnificently taller, Sammy.”

“You haven’t grown at all.” You pushed at his side with your elbow, pushing him over just a bit.

“Alright, you boys get washed up and let Y/N get situated in her room.” Karen gave you a big smile, holding her hand out for you to grab. You did so with warmth in your heart. You were happy Karen had so much adoration for you. You glanced over your shoulder to look at the boys one last time before the doors shut, seeing them shove each other while laughing.

Not much had changed around the castle besides the boys themselves. The way they carried themselves had changed, their way about them. Sam was no longer soft spoken, but more vocal about his wishes and desires - ideas for the future. Jacob was learning how to prepare for Kingship, following in all of the footsteps of Joshua.

You figured it melted his heart to have to take over for his brother. You couldn’t even begin to think about the way Jacob and Sam had taken the news of the death of their brother. You imagine they hide it better than Karen does, although she always holds her composure. The sadness you felt, there was no hiding it, your mind holding the Kiszka’s to a high standard of being able to compartmentalize.

The bedroom you were gifted with was decorated with items from your home. The map laid in a frame was of Altea, your home country. Your hand brushed over it, missing the land already. You missed the smell the most. Altea was mostly filled with forests, hidden rivers and lakes filled the landscape. The most abundant trees were pines, filling the land with the sweet smell of the needles.

One of the items on your desk was a new set of watercolor paints. A note attached to a new sketchbook peaked out from underneath them. You took it between your fingers, smiling at the slightly boyish handwriting.

‘I couldn’t imagine leaving my home to be married to someone. Hopefully this will make you feel even a bit more at home. You have always been welcome in Greta. You have made a beautiful queen in Altea, I can only imagine what you and I will accomplish as we rule together over Greta.

-- Jacob’

You made a mental note to thank him for his kindness. You looked over more of the items in your room, noticing the small bookshelf that hid in the corner. The classics of Shakespeare were there, littered between books of poetry and music. You smiled as your fingers brushed over Romeo and Juliet. When beginning to read it, your mind filled with scenes of you putting yourself in Juliet’s shoes. What would it be like to be in a forbidden love story?

The next week you spent getting to know Jacob all over again. With time came maturation. His childish ways had been concealed by growth, his sentences suddenly sounding grown. His brain had always been magnificent, but now it had seemed to have elevated even more. His vocabulary was more extensive. It was Friday already, the weeks passing by seemingly too fast. “I feel so terrible about missing out on so much.”

“Don’t feel bad, Y/N. How were we supposed to know the way things would go? We were young; we didn’t think about anything but ourselves.”

“I know, but I missed out on seeing you boys grow up. You and Sam are incredible men. I didn’t even get to know Josh.” Your voice was heavy with sorrow. “Was he the same as he was when he was a kid? Bright and bubbly?”

“Terribly so.” Jacob laughed, looking at your eyes as they began to water. “He still talked over me any chance he could get. You should’ve seen him when he fell in love with Silas. He was a mess.”

“Silas?”

“He was a visitor from a neighboring country. Their army was here to plead their case to Josh, he was barely king for ten minutes when they waltzed in. I caught them sneaking in one of the corridors one time. Josh swore that he and Silas weren’t gonna be anything more than what they were that week. Til I caught letters back and forth from them.”

“I knew Joshua was a romantic.” You smiled to yourself, the thought of Joshua being able to love so wholly filling you with warmth.

“Josh loved him very much. When he heard about Silas’ passing, he became very enraged. I’d never seen Josh so angry. He became a totally different person.” You could imagine how hard it was for Jacob to talk about Joshua. “But nevermind that. What was it like for you in Altea? I’ve only been once when I was a kid.”

“It was beautiful as always. I miss home quite a bit since coming to live here. I’m very grateful, don’t get me wrong, but I miss the forests. There’s so much open land and mountains in Greta. I’d love to adventure them, but I know how dangerous it can be. In Altea, the forests are all protected by the woodland creatures. I always feel so safe walking in and exploring. I found a secret lake, I could show you someday.”

“I’d like that very much.” He smiled towards you, walking you into the painting room.

You looked all around the walls. The paintings that hung on the walls took away your breath. The realism was so well done, it made you feel as though it was a photograph. You refrained from reaching your hand out to touch the painting, studying the brushstrokes carefully. “This entire room is yours.”

You swore you heard him incorrectly.

“If you want it, of course. I know how much you like art.” Jacob smiled warmly. You looked towards him, eyes beaming. You walked back over towards him, throwing your arms around him. Thank you’s fall from your lips in a chant. Your hands grab at his face, placing a ‘thank you’ kiss upon his lips.

Once realizing what you had done, you brought your fingertips up to your lips. “Oh, oh! I-I am so sorry. I didn’t realize-”

He cuts you off, bringing his soft lips to yours. His fingertips brushed your cheeks, his palm settling on it as his finger curled around the back of your neck. His touch was gentle as was his kiss. His tongue brushed across your bottom lip, coaxing your pair open. He tasted like raspberries, the pastries from dessert still lingering on his tongue. Your hands had no idea where to go, instinctively grabbing his elbows, holding his arms stationary in their position.

Your lungs felt as though they were on fire. Your entire body was tingling, shockwaves coursed through every nerve passageway. You swore that with every change in Jacob’s hand placement made goosebumps rise on every inch of your skin. His hands were on your waist, yours on his chest when he finally pulled away from you, leaving his forehead to touch yours. “Was that okay?”

“I, um, yeah. Yes.” You were flustered, your cheeks a bright pink as you kept your eyes closed. You could feel his eyes staring at you. You opened your eyes and noticed his eyes focused only on your lips.

“I know our first kiss is supposed to be after our marriage, but I don’t think I would’ve lasted till the spring.” His hands held yours, eyes focusing on something other than your lips. “I do hope you’re not mad.”

“I’m not mad. Pleasantly surprised, but… not mad.” A small smile rose to the surface of your face, looking at Jacob coyly. You withdraw your hands from his body, separating from him as you look over the multitude of art supplies laid out in front of you. You notice a few pieces within works on a table, fingertips barely brushing over the ink.

“I have a few pieces that I still haven’t finished. I haven’t had time since preparing to become king. I miss art.”

“I’m sure it misses you too, Jacob. You’ve always been very… creative.” You spoke, looking over your shoulder at him. He smiles at you lightly, fighting the urge to press a kiss to your cheek. It takes everything in him not to.

“I’ll let you be, please stay in here as long as you’d like.” He leaves out the door, shutting it behind you. You didn’t even wait for the door to close before dipping your hands into a bucket of paints. You already had an idea of what you wanted to paint. Altea. You missed it with such a fury. Thirty minutes had past, the sketch you had started was finally turning into something you were slightly okay with. You put the supplies back, leaving your canvas out on the table next to Jacob’s.

You walked back to your room. It was comforting to have a charcoal pencil between your fingers again. The music coming from down the hall switched your path from your room to the piano room. You open the door, noticing Sam sitting at the piano. He wore pants, his white shirt was untied, exposing his chest. His feet were bare, which never came as a surprise to you. You watched him play, hands gliding over the keys so angelically. The door opened more, creaking as it did so. He stopped playing, his eyes snapping over to see you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to spy.”

“You’re alright. Would you like to stay? I’m almost finished with this piece.” You nodded, closing the door behind you. You left your shoes by the door, going to sit next to him on the piano bench. Your arms grazed his as he played, watching his hands. Sam had grown into his piano playing, remembering how proud he was as a child after he learned how to play a full song.

“You’ve gotten better.” You smiled, speaking quietly after he stopped playing.

“You remembered.”

“Yeah. It’s the last time I saw Joshua.” Your voice was slightly hoarse. You could see Sam’s heart fall, and he knew yours did too. “I miss him sometimes.”

“I miss him everyday.” Sam’s voice was delicate china. One wrong touch and he’ll shatter. You could feel the lump in Sam’s throat grow with the silence that cut through the air. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing his head closer to your chest. Although his sobs were silent, you could feel the tears fall from his eyes.

“Let it out, Sammy.” The violent uproar of his sobs ripped holes in your heart. The build up of emotions let out as if a dam inside him broke. Tears slipped down your eyes, your heart absolutely broke for Sam. He wrapped his arms around your waist tighter, clinging onto you for dear life.

You swore twenty minutes went by and Sam was still crying. Not a single atom in your body minded. Your hands mindlessly ran through his hair, trailing down his back in an attempt to calm him down. He pulled away first, sniffling as he gathered himself. His eyes flickered to your lips, as yours did to his. His lips were wet with salty tears, his tongue licking them away. You tore your eyes away from his lips as he apologized. “Sorry for crying on you.”

“Don’t apologize, Sam. I’m here for you. I’m going to be your sister-in-law soon enough.” You joked, eliciting a half laugh from Sam.

“Speaking of, how’s that going?”

“Don’t tell anyone, but he kissed me today. Said the painting room is mine.” You gushed, a light pink hue covering your cheeks. A gentle smirk displayed on his face.

“He’s a lucky man.” Confusion pulled your eyebrows together. You were the lucky one, how was Jacob lucky? “He’s lucky because he’s gotten to kiss you, Y/N.”

Heat radiated from your body. It felt like your whole being was on fire. Sam’s eyes never left your face, trying to make out the emotions you were feeling. Shifting from the piano to match Sam’s gaze, you attempted to speak but no words came out. You heard a laugh come from Sam’s nose, watching your awestruck gaze. Your mouth curves upwards, a nervous laugh exiting your mouth. “To be able to kiss you is like being able to kiss a goddess. One of the marvelous pleasures of the universe.”

“That’s too sweet, Sammy.”

“I’m just telling you the truth, Your Highness.” He stood up from the piano bench, extending his hand out to you. “I do have to cut our time short, I’m tired after all that crying, but I’d love to escort you back to your room to make sure you get back alright.”

“I suppose that would be a good idea.” You took his hand, getting up from the piano bench. He grabbed your shoes by the door and carried them for you as your hand rested on the inside of his elbow.

“Thank you for allowing me to get rid of some of those emotions I kept built up. I appreciate it more than you know.”

“Again, Sammy, you don’t have to thank me. You shouldn’t hide your feelings anyways. Keeping all of that built up over time will not create good outcomes. Eventually you just burst and you hurt the people around you.” You saw the door to your room within view, not really wanting to leave Sam’s side. You brought him into your room, watching him set down your shoes in the corner. “Thank you for walking me back to my room.”

“It’s my pleasure, Your Highness. Anything to keep you safe and sound. Goodnight, Y/N.” He smiled, pressing a delicate kiss to your knuckles.

“Goodnight, Sammy.”

You shut the door once Sam had walked off. Your mind replayed the moment shared between you and Sam. Were you really contemplating kissing Sam too? After kissing his brother only a mere hour or two before. You shivered underneath the covers of your duvet, slightly from the cold air coming from the window and lack of clothing, but also due to the odd feeling you had gotten, slight pleasure from wanting to kiss the both of them.

You tried to pay no mind to the pooling of slick you had, frustrated as your attempts to fall asleep had fallen unsuccessful. You flung the covers off of your body, nipples hard at the sudden change in temperature. You stared up at the ceiling, talking yourself out of the sudden thoughts you had about kissing Sam in the piano room.

♛♛♛

The days following the moment you had shared with Sam weren’t as awkward as you anticipated them to be. You expected a familiar saturation of tension to follow you with every interaction, but no such thing happened. You and Jacob walked around the castle, conversing as normal. Every once in a while Sam would join you, picking up on the conversation coming out of the piano room.

Whenever Sam didn’t accompany the two of you, you and Jacob found secret places within the castle to share kisses. They’d be brought on by one of you staring too long at the other, prompting them to tug the other into a corner, a room unoccupied. The kisses would at times be chaste, gentle and quick never passing the unspoken boundary between the two of you.

Your finger twirled a strand of hair, ducked in the painting room. Nobody went in there besides the two of you. You both had the ultimate privacy, although that was typically very risque given your marital status. “The piece you did two weeks ago -- the Altean forest line, it was beautiful. Your line work is exquisite.”

“So are your lips, Jacob.” You kissed him, a smile upon both of your faces. His hands settled at your waist, never straying although you protested in your mind. “Do you ever worry someone will find us?”

“No, not really. Even if they did, they are sworn to secrecy.” He pulled away from you, traveling over to one of the tables. “We could do practically anything inside this room and the only people who would know about it would be us.”

Images flashed through your mind, a vibrant pink hue came forth on your cheeks. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought of you and Jacob in that position, but you were almost scared to. The idea of sex didn’t scare you, your parents had opened the conversation about it up when you were younger. You were always well informed, especially since life was so unpredictable. You were scared because of all the alleyways it could lead down. Giving into temptation was sinful. But one could argue that the secret kisses you share with Jacob were sinful, not having been married yet.

“Anything you say?” Your mind went other places, rather than those of a sexual nature. You slipped your two fingers into a small pot of paint, walking quietly behind him. You smeared the gold paint across his cheek, the coolness of the paint making Jacob gasp. “Gold is one of your colors, not shocking.”

“You’re gonna pay for that, Y/N.” His gasp transformed into an open mouthed smirk, dipping his fingers into the burgundy paint, the colors of his kingdom dripped down his fingers. He didn’t have to try too hard to get you close, wiping his fingers down your cheek. “You look good in my colors. You might have to paint me with yours.”

His face was dangerously close to you, you could faintly feel his breath on your lips. “Would it be improper of me to kiss you right now?”

“Normally, I would’ve said yes.” You spoke, voice barely above a whisper. “But considering it wouldn’t be our first time, I think the issue with breaking the courting rules is out the door.”

He didn’t kiss you right away though. He stared at you, taking in your features. His fingers barely brushed over your lips, dragging your bottom lip down slightly. His touch is so delicate against your face, ghosting almost. You bring your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him in. You were tired of the teasing, you couldn’t handle it. You wanted to kiss him. So bad.

His lips were just as soft as the first time, pillowy and enrapturing your own. You happily sigh from the contact, Jacob’s body flush against your own. You were pushed up against the table, a hand grabbing the edge of the table as instinct. He picked you up and placed you on top of it. His hands flew to your waist, holding you in place. He attempted to keep his distance from you, not wanting to make you uncomfortable with how unbelievably hard he was already. His body yearned for you, as much as his heart and soul did.

“What’s on your mind, pretty?” Jacob asks, lips against your neck so lightly you barely feel it. You smile back, hands playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“I miss Altea.” You admitted, sighing while Jacob’s attention shifted from your neck to your face. “I love it here in Greta, I do, but I miss home. I miss the vastness of the trees and the forest behind the castle. Plus, there’s a dispute between two villages and they’ve asked me to deal with it. They’ve tried their hardest to settle it without including me, but they haven’t come to a conclusion.”

“Can’t you just send a letter with your decision on the case? Do you really need to go back there? It’s not the best idea, Y/N. We may be courting and having a happy time, but there is still a war going on outside the gates. I can protect you here, but out there, I can’t do anything.” He backs away from you, running a hand through his hair.

“You don’t need to protect me all the time, Jacob. I can take care of myself perfectly fine. I never travel without a few guards anyways. You’re being ridiculous.” You hopped down, heels making noise against the floor. He turned around, facing towards you, his face beginning to contort with anger.

“I’m being ridiculous?” He asks, voice raising a little. “I’m being ridiculous? Y/N, you want to leave the castle and go settle a dispute between two villages who should have already figured out their issues. What if that’s a ruse for kidnapping you and hurting you? What then?”

“My people wouldn’t do that.” You were hurt by his words, accusing your constituents of causing that level of violence. Silence fell between the two of you as you thought of something to say. Part of you wanted to bite back, give him as much attitude back as he gave you. The rest of you wanted to leave it alone. “I’m going, that is final. We may be engaged to be married, Jacob, but I am their Queen. I have a duty to show up. It’s not my fault that you do not have such a title.”

“You watch your fucking words.” His teeth were gritted, finger centimeters away from her nose. It wasn’t fair - what you had said to him. He wasn’t king yet, you two had months away from your engagement party, let alone the wedding and his coronation.

He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. You attempted to collect yourself, although tears began to stream down your face. You grabbed a small towel from the table and wiped the paint off of your face. You headed out of the room, finding yourself walking towards the garden. Your tears were falling hard and freely now - your ability to see limited to fuzzy shapes and colors. You kick your heels off, feeling the grass beneath your feet. You kept going until you bumped into something.

“Y/N?” Sam asks, hands wrapping around your biceps to stabilize you. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Jacob and I just had a small argument and I said some things I didn’t mean to, I wanted to go home and deal with a village conflict, but Jacob doesn’t want me to go.” You were going to continue, telling him some of the things you had said and he said back to you, but Sam cut you off.

“Hey,” he spoke, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you in for a hug. “Hey, it’s okay. Just take a minute to breathe.”

His hands were warm against your back, the cool breeze of the evening sitting in around you. You grabbed onto his shirt, balling his shirt up with your fists. You wanted to scream. You wanted to keep crying. You wanted to shut the world off and your mind. You wanted to apologize to Jacob immediately. Jacob.

The wedding. Oh no. Oh no. The wedding. Since you had gotten into an argument with Jacob, did that mean that the wedding was off now? The engagement and solidified alliance between your kingdoms wasn’t going to work out. You voiced your anxieties, rambling on about how nervous you were for the future between you two as you had yelled at him. “What have I done? I’ve screwed everything up, I’ve-”

Everything you thought about at that moment stopped. All trains of thought you had - all of them flowing at once - stopped in the middle of their route from your brain to your mouth. Your heart had forgotten how to stop beating, breathing stopped in time with your heart. His hands were warm against your cheeks, holding your face against his, lips on yours.

Sam was kissing you, pausing your thoughts. His lips were soft moving against yours, your hands held his wrists tightly. His tongue slipped into your mouth with ease, coaxing it open for him to explore. You sighed into the kiss, relaxing into his touch. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks, wiping away any remnants of tears that had been left on your cheeks from earlier.

When he pulled away, you gasped slightly, mourning the loss of connection quietly. His forehead rested against yours, your breathing ragged. You swallowed thickly, your mind still void of any collective thought - all of the ones you currently had were bits and pieces of a jumbled mess. You licked your lips, attempting to formulate a single coherent thought. Sam’s voice interrupted you, “Y/N, you have done nothing wrong.”

“You didn’t hear the things I said, Sam.” Your hands were still wrapped around his wrists, almost keeping his hands there. You didn’t want his hands to move, they were keeping your mess of thoughts at bay, keeping you grounded. “I was incredibly rude.”

“I’m sure Jake’ll get over it, he’s a big boy.” Right. Jacob.

Jacob.

You had just fought with Jacob and here you are in the gardens, kissing his little brother. Your mind clouded again, this time overflowing with the thoughts of what just happened. “I think I’m going to go back to my room, sleep on it and see how I feel in the morning.”

“Want me to walk you back?”

“Um, no,” You spoke, removing his hands from your cheeks. “I’ll be fine, but thank you, Sam. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You didn’t exactly run away from him, but you definitely walked a little faster than normal. You made a quick pit stop, collecting your heels before hiking your dress up a bit. You ran as soon as one of your feet was inside the castle, past all of the staff you saw on the way, into the comforts of your own room.

As soon as you shut the door, you stripped off your clothing. Everything felt like too much to you right now. Your clothes were too much, thoughts were too much -- everything was too much. You grabbed one of the pillows off of the bed and shoved it in your face. You let out the most ungodly scream you could, so close to eviscerating your vocal cords.

After that, you felt decently okay. You calmed down. Your heart rate calmed down, slowing to its natural rhythm. You breathed in deeply, letting the air fill your lungs completely before exhaling. You got yourself into bed, throwing the covers up around your shoulders.

You didn’t hate kissing Sam. In fact, you liked it a whole lot. The feeling of Sam’s lips on yours was vastly different than the way Jacob’s felt against yours. Sam’s was gentle, soothing. Teetering on the line between right and wrong. His touch mimicked his kisses, but still steady enough to keep you right where he wanted you to be.

Jacob’s was firm in a sense of belonging. His lips belonged to yours. His body belonged to yours, the way it reacted to your touch was explanation enough.

You were screwed, between a rock and a hard place. While you were meant to be courting Jacob, you’re running around kissing his little brother in secret. The thought should have made you repulsed by your own actions, but it didn’t. It made you warm.

Your cheeks tinted pink and became at least what seemed like fifty degrees hotter than the rest of your body. An unfamiliar pooling sensation began below your waist, moving your hips involuntarily. You experimentally run your hand down your stomach, traveling further until you gasp. You move your fingers through your folds, feeling how wet you were. Your middle finger ran over your sensitive bud, causing a light moan to fall from your lips.

You weren’t even entirely sure what you were doing. All you knew, you felt good. And thinking about Sam and Jacob made you feel even better. Daydreaming about their mouths - the way they kissed you - and continuing to move your finger in a circular motion around your clit made you feel lightheaded. Your hips shifted underneath you, attempting to get more of that feeling.

It was unfamiliar the build that you began to feel in your lower stomach, a knot getting tighter and tighter. The more you moved your fingers against yourself, the closer the knot was to breaking. You let out low moans, keeping your mind’s focus on Jacob’s mouth. It went even farther than just kissing, wondering what his lips would feel like on other parts of your skin. Sam’s lips, too. It slipped between the two, wanting to feel both of their lips on your skin.

The knot snapped, your vision turning a blinding white color as you screwed your eyes shut. You moaned loudly this time, thankful your room was large enough to warrant for space. Hopefully, nobody outside those doors had heard you. You allowed your fingers to work you through your climax, hips moving with your fingers.

Your body finally stilled, a hand just above your hips, just below your navel. Your mouth stayed open, chest rising and falling with your heart returning to its normal rhythm. The thoughts had slowed, but they were still the same content. You soon fell asleep, mind filled with images of Sam’s mouth pressed against your body, Jake’s hands all over your skin.

♛♛♛

The ride to Altea was bumpy, but as soon as you were back inside your home, it felt nothing but peaceful. The familiar hues of the land welcomed you back with open arms, familiar smells of pine and lake water comforted you. It had felt like forever since you had been back home, when in reality it was only a few months.

Nothing in your room had been disturbed. The books you had forgotten left with bookmarks in their place, the never-ending stack of drawings that were half finished laid in the same spot as before. Your fingers danced over the familiar charcoal pencils, forcing them from their spot. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to savor every last moment here. You were sure that this would be the last time you would be inside these walls for a long time.

A bodyguard of yours called out to you, asking you to join him in going to the villages. It was a simple quarrel, he assured you. “Something simple should have been solved without getting you involved, truly. I’m terribly sorry to have torn you away from your courtship with Prince Jacob.”

“Mason, that’s quite alright. I have duties as Queen, I must perform them no matter the size of the quarrel. Can you tell me what the whole fighting is about? It seems from everyone else’s view it’s a simple matter.”

“They’re having a land dispute over crops. It’s a tiresome quarrel, I really do apologize for needing to request your presence.” You waved his comment off with your hand, you had a duty to your people; you simply couldn’t ignore them. You inquired about land documents, wondering if the village lines had been drawn. He had given you all the documents your parents had left you, looking over them on the ride to the villages.

The two Lords approached your carriage as soon as you got to your destination. A bit outside both of the lands, in a little tavern the two of them had spoken about. You were a bit nervous, not letting it seep through your facial expressions. Mason sat next to you; eyes focused on the two men in front of you. “I understand where the confusion lies.”

The men’s eyebrows lurched forward in confusion, wondering what you were talking about. You looked between the two of them, noticing their bewilderment. “The property line between your lands has been what you two have argued about, yes?”

“Yeah.” One of them responded.

“It was never fully settled between the last two Lords, which you two would’ve already previously known. Your lands were actually once one whole village.” You showed them your father’s map, showing them their region just outside your castle’s walls. “You two can either absolve your differences and choose to work together, or I can dictate a property line for the two of you.”

They looked between themselves, muttering a few words. Mason whispered into your ear, “Well done, Your Highness.”

“Thank you. Can we return through the back of the castle? I’d like to adventure the forests a bit if you don’t mind.” He nodded, regaining his stature. “Have the two of you made a decision?”

“We’ll work together for the time being. If something goes wrong, we’ll try to figure it out. If it doesn’t work, we’ll request for you to determine the property line between our lands. Thank you, Your Highness.” He scratched his beard, mentioning something under his breath. You barely caught what he said, not letting the slight insult he had muttered get to you.

“You will apologize to the Queen,” Mason spoke, standing up and offering a hand out to you. You grabbed it, using it to stand up from where you were sitting. “If not for her, you two twats would’ve ripped each other’s heads off.”

“Sorry, Your Highness.” The two spoke in unison, bowing their heads. You nodded to them, not caring about their simple insults. If you were to fall sad every time someone muttered something bad about you (especially in front of you) you would not be the queen you were today. They bowed, leaving the tavern before you and Mason got back into your carriage.

“That went well.” You laughed a little, smoothing out the fabric of your dress as you sat down. The reigns on the horses slapped against their skin, jolting the carriage slightly. “I tried to hide my laughter when you called them twats, Mason. That was very funny.”

“I’m sorry for the language, Your Highness.”

“Mason, do not apologize. Foul language doesn’t make me uncomfortable. When we are alone, you may use it as often as you’d like. If I’m honest, I curse habitually. It slips out sometimes during meetings with different members of the royal court.” You simpered at him, watching as he chuffs out a laugh.

The ride back was a lot shorter than the ride to the tavern. When you had finally gotten back, Mason helping you get out of the carriage, he left you to your own devices, against his wishes. He wanted to accompany you into the woods, but he knew better than to pester you about it. However, he did ask for your attention very quickly in the kitchen. “What did you need me for there?”

“It’s your first breakfast home in the morning, I just wanted to make sure that we had all of your favorites made the way you liked them when you were a child. Taste the raspberry puff pastry, see if it still tastes the same?”

“Alright,” you grabbed one off the tray, never refusing sweets at any point of the day. As soon as your teeth sunk into it, it felt like you were seven again, roaming around the castle pretending to be a fairy princess, not just a regular one. You moaned, finally able to taste the raspberry on your tongue. “That is absolutely delicious.”

“Aren’t they, though? I made them myself.” Jacob’s voice rang through your ears, sending you into a fit of slight shock. You turned around so quickly you swore you could’ve gotten whiplash. “Hello, Y/N.”

“Jacob! What are you doing here?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, completely forgetting about the fight the two of you had had, leaving you in a crying fit; leading you to kiss Sam in the gardens. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me anymore.”

“It was a silly little fight. I came to apologize; my behavior was incredibly poor. You have made an excellent Queen. It was rude of me. I do hope you’ll accept my apology and show me that forest and that secret lake you were telling me about.” He looked at you, brown eyes making you feel warmth everywhere on your body, especially between your legs.

“Apology accepted, and I’d be more than happy to show you inside the forest. I was just about to go actually.” Jacob’s arm offered itself to you, smiling as you weaved your arm through his. Mason smiled, bowing to the two of you as you walked out of the kitchen.

The walk felt nice, autumn air brushing against your skin. With the contrast of how hot you had already felt, you welcomed the breeze with open arms. Jacob followed behind you, staying close in the case of danger, but you already knew that nothing was lurking in these woods. When the sun had begun to dip below the horizon, Jacob tried to urge you to go back to the castle’s grounds, finding the lake tomorrow. “You’ll miss the best part if we go back now and return in the morning. It’s not in vain, I promise you.”

“I trust you.” He whispered, eyes staring into yours, lips so tantalizingly close. You wanted nothing more than to push yourself against him, kiss him right there. Nobody was around, you could truly get away with it. You grabbed his hand, holding it rather than using it to pull him behind you. He started to see the reflection of the moonlight, waves crashing upon the shores of the lake ahead of you. You looked back at him, noticing a small smile form on his lips.

“The best part is here,” you slipped off your shoes, hiking up your dress, making sure none of it got wet. As soon as your feet touched the water, leaving footprints in the sand in your wake, he noticed it – the glow it gave. He looked between you and the water, touching it with his hands. “The little microorganisms that live in the water cause the glow every time the water is disturbed from its resting state. Every movement is shown with the light they give off.”

“That’s so brilliant. I can’t even – I have no words. This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.” The light inside his eyes was childlike, you watched how wide his smile got as he moved the water around with his hands. You watched him rush to take his shoes off, rolling up his trousers as best he could. He joined you in the water, laughing as he splashed around. “How in the world did you find this place?”

“I tried running away when I was twelve. We weren’t having blueberry tarts for dinner and I was quite upset about that. I stumbled my way back here and found this lake. Some of the woodland fairies guided me back home.”

“There are fairies in these woods?” You nodded, looking around to see if maybe you could possibly show him.

“They tend to hide around new people. They’re quite shy creatures. As long as you respect the land, none of them will cause you harm.” You looked towards the sky, looking to see if you could spot any of the fairies within the tops of the trees. The forest was silent, nothing stirring besides the two of you in the water.

“You look so beautiful.” His hand grabbed yours, bringing you closer to him. Your hands let go of your dress, not caring if the ends got wet anymore. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks so lightly, you barely felt his touch. His hands left your cheeks, falling to your waist. Your hands placed themselves on his cheeks. “I cannot explain to you how much I have missed you and your touch.”

“I’ve missed you, too, so much.” You breathed out, bringing his head closer to yours. You rested your forehead against his. You tilted your head, capturing his lips in a kiss. He sighed, relaxing into the kiss. You melted into his touch, reveling in the way his hands felt against your body. He walked the two of you out of the water, having the two of you sit on the sand.

He leans the two of you back, kissing him while propped up on one of your elbows. The free hand you had slipped through Jacob’s hair, fixing itself onto the back of his neck. Your tongue moved against his – mind slipping to wonder what exactly he tasted like. It was wine, mixed with another fruit that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Your body yearned for more – wanting to feel him, more of him. He climbed on top of you, knees brushing the insides of your thighs. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush against you. He moans into your mouth before pulling your bottom lip with his teeth causing the same reaction from you. He drank in your moans, getting intoxicated off of them.

He lips moved away from your lips, kissing a line from your mouth, to your jaw, to your neck. His first kiss was below your earlobe, sending shockwaves through your body, straight down to your core. He left open mouthed kisses down your neck, licking at your collarbone. You arched into his mouth, slick pooling between your thighs. His mouth didn’t stop there, though.

Your heart raced as Jacob started lifting your dress. His eyes flicked back up to you, asking if this was okay for you. You gave him a little nod, hands resting atop your breasts over your dress. Your dress was bunched up around your hips, legs fully exposed to him. His mouth was tentative, eyes continuously flickering back up to yours always checking to make sure you were okay with everything he was doing.

The low hum you emitted from the back of your throat when Jacob’s lips kissed right next to your cunt let him know you were more than okay with what his mouth was doing. Your hips moved, chasing his mouth. You whine when you no longer feel his mouth on your skin. You gasp, feeling his tongue lick up your cunt. “So sweet.”

His tongue slips around your clit a few times, sending shivers up your spine. He introduced you to a new feeling – his cold fingers against your slit made you jolt, letting out a yelp. He chuckled against your cunt to which you replied with a whine. His mouth went back to you, licking you as his fingers collected slick, experimentally sliding his middle finger inside of you, up to the first knuckle. He paid attention to the way your body responded, the way your back arched and your hips wriggled against his fingers.

He pushed more of his finger inside of you, mouth distracting you from the stretch. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking it into his mouth. You moaned, hands squeezing your breasts, “Holy fuck.”

The feeling in your lower gut mirrored what you had felt that night in your bedroom. Your cheeks flushed, body moving more and more against his hand. You looked down at him, noticing the way he grinded his hips into the sand beneath the two of you. You were going to mutter something to Jacob, asking him to let you help him the way he was helping you, but your mouth failed you letting out only a string of moans falling from your lips.

His fingertip brushed against a spot that made your cunt spasm around him. “M-More.”

He replied by adding another finger, your body reacting accordingly. The feeling of two of his fingers filling you up as his tongue lapped at your clit was delicious. With a free hand, he held your hips stationary, wanting you to completely let yourself submit to him in this moment. You did with no hesitation, a flame almost on the edge of bursting as you fought against bucking your hips in rhythm with his fingers. Your cheeks went hot, mouth beginning to fall open once again.

“So pretty, c’mon. Come for me, Y/N. Please. I wanna see your face when you come, I bet it’s so pretty.” The words that fell from his mouth forced a moan to rise to the surface of your throat – high pitched and whiny. The flame erupted, hand finding its way into Jacob’s hair, holding his mouth against you as your hips moved against his tongue. He let you fuck his face, letting your orgasm course through you.

Your labored breathing had begun to slow, returning to homeostasis. Jacob removed himself from betwixt your legs, putting your dress back down where it was, lying next to you once again. His hand found your waist, eyes looking at you adoringly. “How did that feel, sweet girl?”

“Really good.” He kissed your nose, helping you sit up. “Do you mind if we go back to the castle? I’m slightly tired after that.”

“Anything you wish.” He got off the ground, helping you up. The two of you walked hand in hand, wandering back to the castle. The conversation flowed between the two of you freely once again, finding anything and everything to talk about. Jacob even shared how much he missed your presence within the castle walls itself, telling you how lonely everything felt. “Sam misses you too. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s a tad off. I believe it’s because of you.”

Your cheeks blushed a furious pink; you were happy they couldn’t be seen to well with the moon hidden behind the trees, only coming out in small fractions. You were thankful Jacob left the talk of Sam at that, not asking you if you missed him. You had no idea what your answer would have been anyways; somewhere between a hesitant yes and a ‘no’ that was said way too fast.

You had no idea how much time had passed between when you had left and when you had come back to the castle. You assumed it took no less than two hours, but to your surprise it had been almost five. The two of you were welcomed back into the castle, Mason greeting you almost immediately. “You’re lucky I talked down most of the staff. You two being gone that long caused everyone to have minor heart attacks. They almost started a sign up for a search party for you.”

“I’m glad you assured them I’d be fine. We just got a little... carried away, is all. We’re going to be heading to bed now. Will you show Jacob to his room after he escorts me to mine?” Mason nodded, allowing you and Jacob to lead the way for him. “Thank you for coming with me tonight. I didn’t realize how much you adored nature.”

“I always have. Mother just didn’t let us off the grounds that much. One night Josh and I snuck out and ventured the fields around the castle. We played with our wooden swords for hours. We had to bribe Sam to stay quiet about it. Thank you for bringing me along. It was truly a beautiful sight.”

“The forest has a lot to offer, you just have to be patient enough to find it.” You gave his arm a squeeze.

“Yeah, the forest. Right.” You jabbed your elbow into Jacob’s side, giving him a stern look. Your eyes darted back to Mason, who was too busy suppressing a chuckle. He would never admit it, but Mason figured the two of you had done something. There was still sand lurking in your hair.

When the three of you reached your room, you hugged Jacob goodnight, planting a simple kiss on his cheek, Mason bowing as you looked over at him. You shrugged yourself out of your dress, slipping on your nightgown. You couldn’t stop the smile that was forming at your lips. Your mind flashed back to the way Jacob’s mouth felt on you, a familiar pooling feeling happening once more. You climbed into your bed, allowing a peaceful sleep to overcome you.

♛♛♛

Upon returning to the castle, the sneaking around with Jacob became more intense. Ever since your evening in the forest, you craved his touch more than you craved food or water. Instead of finding nooks and crannies to kiss in, you’d find entire rooms to divulge. Mismatched little rooms around the castle would be used to pleasure either one of you.

You found solace in the library, finding that you were really the only one who went in there. Jacob followed you one time. Finding your fingertips running along the spine of A Midsommer Night’s Dream by Shakespeare, coming up behind you. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, whispering a line from the play into your ear. “Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore, is winged Cupid painted blind.”

“You’ve read Midsommer?” You asked, falling backwards into his chest. His lips brushed your neck, pressing lightly, teeth nibling at the skin. You pulled away from him, turning your body towards him.

“You sound surprised.”

“Reading was never your strong suit, Jacob.” His finger traced lines into the open skin of your back before pinning your body against the bookshelf behind you. He kept his eyes on yours, sinking to his knees. His hands travelled up your legs, pressing harder into your flesh as they fell down from your thighs. You sighed into his touch, letting your head fall back into the books behind you.

“No, it wasn’t,” he spoke, beginning to press kisses from your ankle to your knee. “But I remembered how much you loved Romeo and Juliet when we were kids, I figured I’d read it as best I could. When I finished that, I read Macbeth. Then I read Midsommer.”

Your hand found its way into his hair, second nature to you now – the feeling of his mouth against your skin. Your breath was heavy, the closer Jacob’s mouth got to your core. It dripped down your legs, Jacob catching some of it with his tongue. Your hands tugged at the roots, pulling his mouth where you wanted him the most. He laughed at your eagerness, licking up you as if it was his first time.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned at the introduction of his fingers. With no hesitation, he collected your slick on his fingers and put two of them inside of you. His fingers had always reached the spot yours never could, every brush of the spot causing a whine to leave your lips.

Your breath caught in its throat as soon as you realized that Sam had peered into the library, watching you and Jacob. You kept Jacob’s head against your cunt, not wanting him to look up and see his little brother watching the two of you. Your eyes didn’t leave Sam’s as Jacob continued to eat you out, licking over your clit. You moaned, watching a heat begin to rise to Sam’s cheeks. You allowed yourself to look away, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

You opened your eyes again, Sam still in the doorway – almost as if he was in a trance. He licked his lips, watching you get off. The mixture of Jacob’s fingers and his mouth began to coax an orgasm out of you, your hips moving languid against him. He moaned into your pussy when you tugged at his hair again, causing a high-pitched whine to leave your throat.

You swore that your orgasm would not have been as powerful had Sam not been standing there watching you the whole time. It racked through your body with enough force to make your knees buckle, collapsing almost entirely onto Jacob. You watch as Sam slips out, shutting the door as quietly as it possibly could. Jacob removes his mouth from you, wrapping an arm around your waist, still keeping you against the bookshelf. “You always look so pretty like that. I wish you could see how pretty you look.”

You let Jacob help you back to your room, mind swirling around the thoughts of Sam watching you. They were barely able to pass anywhere in your mind, your body exhausted from the orgasm you had just had.

The days pass so quickly by you, it’s almost forgotten that you were to be married in within months. It blew your mind. The boys didn’t help passing the time either. Each moment you shared with either brother always passed by as if moving at the speed of light. One blink and your alone time with Jacob was gone.

This time, though, today, was passing by too slowly for your liking. Sam had slid a note underneath your door, his scribbled handwriting on the papyrus for you to decipher. You chuckled to yourself, trying to figure it out as best you could. He still wrote like he was twelve.

““It is strange how loud little sounds become when you are in the dark and doing something wrong.” --- Richard Llewellyn.

The gardens. 9pm - Sam”

You waited for nine to roll around since eleven in the morning. Lunch and dinner had gone by so slowly. It pained you to have to wait. You did everything you could to keep yourself busy. You worked on some art, but you got so incredibly frustrated with the way it was turning out, you abandoned that. You tried reading, but your mind was already too preoccupied with the thought of secretly meeting Sam in the gardens.

Your heart was in your throat while you sat waiting for him. Your shoes had been forgotten in your room, your legs crossed underneath your dress. You picked at the skin of your fingers, lip between your teeth. This was stupid. Foolish. Forbidden. You looked up, though, finding Sam walking towards you, smile on his face.

“Thought you weren’t going to show.” You spoke to him, sitting on the edge of the fountain. He sat directly next to you, knees touching your own.

“I’d never stand you up, Y/N.” He spoke, offering a smile to you. His boyish charm completely ruined you. “How was Altea?”

“It was good,” you spoke, noticing Sam’s face grow closer to the skin of your neck. Your breathing hitches in your throat, feeling Sam’s lips graze over your neck. “Um,” you say, trying to focus on what you were trying to say and not that Sam’s tongue was now on your skin. “The debacle that I had to deal with went smooth, it was figured out quite quickly. Jacob surprised me in Altea.”

“He did?” He asked, half paying attention to what you were saying.

“Yeah, he did. And we went on a little date. I showed him a lake in the forest behind the castle.” You held your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to keep a whine at bay. “And we even kissed a little... Did some other things besides kissing.”

“What things did you do, little dove?” The nickname he gave you made you melt in his hands; partnered with the way his tongue felt guiding over your skin didn’t help. You tried to figure out how to say it without it sounding so lewd, so sinful.

“Sam, you know it’s hard to think with you doing that.”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I just can’t get enough of you.” He kissed a spot just below your ear, making a low moan sound from the back of your throat. You try to push him away, moving your face towards him. Sam had other plans, however, keeping your head in place with his hand softly but firmly gripping your chin. “What things did you do with Jake? You never told me.”

“I - oh God. He made me feel really good, with his mouth.” Sam’s attention was piqued, stopping his assault on your neck. He scanned over your face, looking to see if you were lying. “With his hands too.”

“Like this?” He asked, sliding a hand under your dress, fingers ghosting over your core. You suck in a breath, looking towards the look on Sam’s face. There was almost no expression, only the remnants of his cocky, boyish charm. He licked his lips, fingertips pressing against your clit. You try to keep your moans to yourself, making sure they don’t slip past the protective barriers of your lips.

He moves to his knees, the fingertips of his hand still swirling around your clit. His free hand pushes your dress up your thighs, the brisque air hitting you, an audible gasp forming. The Lord’s name was used in vain when Sam’s lips began to press kisses into the insides of your knees, moving up, up, up until he was directly next to your cunt. “Oh, God, Sammy.”

God was not around the two of you. The noises falling from your lips into the open air mixed with the way Sam’s tongue was lapping at you was absolutely sinful. His eyes stared daggers into yours, the intimidation of his stare made you drip into his mouth. You threw your head back, hands steadying yourself as best you could. You gripped the stone from the fountain, your knuckles turning white.

“Did he make you feel good like this, Y/N? Did make you feel as good as I’m making you feel right now?” He asks, but you can’t fathom anything other than a string of moans. And even then, you weren’t even entirely sure who made you feel better. Your head was reeling when his fingers moved at the right pace and his tongue focused hard on the figure eights he was drawing on your clit.

Instinctively you moved one of your hands from the cement to the back of Sam’s head, pushing him closer to you. With one single hum against you, he absolutely unravels you. Your hips rut against his mouth and his fingers, breathing incredibly uneven. You whine, him drinking in the last of your orgasm, “Sammy.”

“So delicious, Your Highness.”

That’s the last thing that’s on your mind when you’re falling asleep. Your comfy within your bed, duvet pulled up to the middle of your stomach, hands underneath your pillows. You didn’t toss and turn literally, but your mind seemed to not want to calm down from the rollercoaster of thoughts it was on.

The thoughts that consumed you were about Jacob and Sam, yet again; their mouths occupied your mind, yet again. This time you had more to dream about, more thoughts to have. You missed the feeling of Jacob between your legs, mouth on your core. You almost craved the feeling every time you were around him.

But you also had a taste of the way Sam’s mouth felt between your legs. You liked the way that your hands felt in his hair. You liked the way he looked into your eyes, never once breaking eye contact. He treated it like it was his job – pleasing you. He ate up the way you reacted to his touch, getting drunk on the way your face contorted.

The forbidden fruit had never tasted so sweet.

Within the next few weeks, winter had begun to settle in. The snow fell onto the ground and laid lightly against the grass. The dresses you wore had begun to have long sleeves, not quite used to the feeling of them made you itch. Jacob had commented on how beautiful your dresses had gotten with sleeves, not that they weren’t before. “I don’t -”

“Jacob, you are perfectly fine. I know what you mean.” You put your hand on his forearm, letting a light pink tint settle onto his cheeks. The two of you were going to be announcing your engagement to the entire kingdom, both of yours. Invitations were sent to the royalty of different surrounding kingdoms, hoping a celebration can be a gentle reminder that the world is not always filled with ugly things.

♛♛♛

Winter had called to a dull roar and the snow had begun to melt away. Between the announcement of your engagement, you kept away from Sam. It hurt you deep within your being for the only interactions the two of you made the entire time was simply just a simple ‘hello’ in passing, or meaningless conversation at dinner. The strings of your heart were being pulled in every direction every time you looked over at Sam and couldn’t talk to him.

With all the commotion in the castle, it was almost impossible to see him at any given point, no matter how hard you tried. You were dragged everywhere; a ball being held later in the Great Hall. The engagement party was mostly meant for the people of your shared kingdoms, getting a feel for each of the new royals.

It made you tired, getting ready and having someone next to your side twenty-four-seven, and only to be putting makeup upon your face. The dress that hung in your room was quite exquisite, the colors of both of your kingdoms within the fabric of your dress. The sleeves of the dress were long and laced, neckline was off the shoulder, and it was the most beautiful gown you had ever seen.

When it was time, the two of you were to be announced together, walking into the Great Hall together. He was taken aback by your dress, your hair, how beautiful you were. “I... I am so lucky to be marrying someone as beautiful as you one day.”

“Oh stop, I don’t look any different than normal.” You sheepishly hid your face from him, or at least you tried to. You couldn’t hide when your cheeks were pulled by Jacob’s hands to look at him.

“I would kiss you right now if I wasn’t afraid that everyone would catch us.” You slid your hands to meet his, pulling them away from your face. You pressed kisses to his knuckles before the doors to the Great Hall opened. Everyone welcomed you with cheers and praise, smiles surrounding the two of you as the musicians begin to play.

Your hand is barely an inch away from Jacob’s, keeping your eyes on his. The tension between the two of you was palpable. The way the two of you danced around – everyone could see it. It wasn’t hard to hide it from anyone. He looked so good, and you couldn’t focus on anything else. Until your eyes landed and caught the eyes of someone in the crowd.

It was Sam. You tried not to hold his gaze for long, but his eyes were so tantalizing. His entire persona begged for all of the attention, but this wasn’t the way he normally begged, no. He was normally cocky about it – knowing he would get all the attention anyways. This was filled with sadness – he wanted your attention, but he knew you would never be able to give it to him.

The dance ended and Jacob gave your hand a squeeze as he led you over to grab a drink with him. He got lost in conversation with a duke from one of his villages, sharing words about archery. You slipped away from the eyes and ears of everyone else, onto the balcony where the music had just become background noise.

Your arms press against the cold stone of the balcony. You looked out to see the grounds before you – the gardens of which you had met Sam so many times. Your mind flooded back to the months before, where Sam absolutely ravished you against the fountain in the southern corners of the garden, hidden behind many mazes of bushes.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when you feel someone’s arm slide next to yours, warm in contrast to your arms. You look over, seeing Sam’s crooked, closed mouth smile. “You alright, Y/N? You booked it out of there quite fast.”

“Yeah... I’m fine, just... got a lot going on in my mind.” You admit, bringing the flute of champagne up to your lips. His eyes never left you, which created a fire in your cheeks. He nodded slowly to your answer; you couldn’t tell if he was pleased with it or just simply letting you get away with lying.

“Can I show you something? Get your mind off of whatever it is you’re thinking about?” You nodded, slipping your hand in his as soon as he extended it out to you. He dipped back into the crowd of people, dodging them left and right. Nobody truly paid attention to the two of you slipping out, keeping your head down away from everyone’s view.

“How’d you get so good at that? Leaving a party.”

“Years of practice. I love the attention, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes you don’t want to dance with the older ladies from various countries again and again.” The two of you laughed, the familiar shape of Sam’s door coming into your eyeline. He opened it a crack, just enough for the two of you to slip right in and shut the door behind the two of you.

His room was different than Jacob’s. Sam’s was more messy – random things thrown everywhere, the desk and tables messy with different documents. You walked over to one where there was a globe atop it, looking at the different maps he had. “It’s a constellation – Cassiopeia. It’s got a wicked tale behind it.”

“Constellations have stories?”

“More like myths, but yeah they do. Cassiopeia in general is a pretty cool story. She was a Queen in Ancient Greece, and she boasted about how she was more beautiful than the sea nymphs. Her claim angered Poseidon so much that he sent a monster to wreck the whole town. The monster was distracted by Cassiopeia’s daughter, Andromeda, who was tied to a rock. Andromeda was saved by Perseus, and they all lived happily ever after. Pleased with their story and changes, the Gods cast them into the Heavens. Cassiopeia was bound to a chair due to her vanity. You can usually see her at any point during the year, but not all the time.”

“That’s actually... really cool. I didn’t know you were into astronomy.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Y/N.” He whispered, drawing closer to where you were by the desk. He trapped you there, your hands gripping the wood. You didn’t want to look up, locking eyes with him after you had avoided him for so long. “You know, I’d name a constellation after you.”

“You would?” You asked, looking up at him. He was so entrancing, once you had locked eyes with him you couldn’t look away.

“Of course. Beautiful things deserved to be immortalized.” With that, he pressed his lips to yours. He tastes like strawberries and champagne, as you imagined you did too. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you into him. Your hands slid up his chest to grab his cheeks, holding him steady as you slipped your tongue into his mouth.

His mouth leaves yours, pressing kisses until he reached the conjunction of your jaw and neck, pressing a kiss just below your jawline. You tilt your head back, sucking in a long breath. The way he kissed you was intoxicating within itself. Drunk on his touch, you whisper his name into his ear, moving your hands through his hair. The grip on your waist tightens even more, hoisting you onto the desk filled with astrological maps.

He presses himself against you, a low moan leaving your lips. You could feel how hard he was against you, hoping to God he couldn’t tell how turned on you were too. He ruts his hips against you, hoping to get some sort of relief. You tried to keep your moans to yourself, not wanting to reveal to Sam that you enjoyed what he was doing. You loved the way he was using you to get himself off, you reveled in all of the noises that left his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” His lips leave sloppy kisses along your neck, body rubbing against your own. You move your hips to meet his, the friction beginning to build within you too. Underneath his breath, you swore you had heard him say something else, and your mind was just hallucinating. He didn’t actually say that, did he? “I love you, fuck me.”

The next two weeks had passed and you hadn’t seen Sam since that night. Since he told you that he loved you. It still rang through your ears, your mind clouded with guilt. You didn’t say it back. What were you truly supposed to say? You were marrying Jacob in less than twenty-four hours now, the wedding rapidly approaching. It hurt being away from Sam, but you couldn’t hurt him any longer.

It hurt being away from Sam so much that you sent him a letter, sliding it underneath his bedroom door like he had done to you on occasion. With the wedding drawing closer, there were things you had to tell him, things you needed to get off your chest. You were thankful that nobody had seen you walk past his room, slipping your little note underneath his door.

““The moon was up, painting the world silver, making things look just a little more alive.”

― N.D. Wilson

Meet me in the gardens. 9pm.

Y/N.”

When he had showed, you were sitting at the fountain where his mouth was once pressed against your core, fueling a fire between your legs. You needed to focus on what you had to do. He sat next to you, a pinky finger slipping between your own. You retracted your hand away from his, noticing the slight tint of hurt on his face. “We can’t keep doing this, Sam.”

“I meant what I said before.” He spoke, his voice not wavering in the slightest. You, however, had a lump growing in your throat. It was as if all of the words you wanted to say had gotten stuck, only letting certain things slip past. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Sam, but we can’t do this anymore. I’m marrying your brother tomorrow. I will not betray him any more than I already have.” You spoke, tears threatening to spill. You looked down, but you were brought back to face Sam, his index finger underneath your chin.

“Tell me to stop.” He speaks, his breath hot against your neck. “Tell me you don't want me.”

“Sam…” You breathed out, his hand squeezing the plush skin of your thigh underneath your dress, the other gripped your waist firmly. That was the problem. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted to love him the way he loved you, but you couldn’t. His lips were soft against your skin and you made a mental note to remember what they felt like for after tonight, you would no longer feel them anymore.

You bring your lips to his, vowing that this time was the absolute last time. Tears fall down your cheeks, Sam’s thumbs immediately brushing them away with one swipe of the pad of his finger. You pull away, putting your forehead on his. “That was the last time, Sam. We can’t do this.”

“I know... it’s selfish of me to want to ask you to not marry Jake. I will always love you. Always.”

“I’ll love you forever, Sam. Forever.” You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, taking in his scent once more before disappearing back into the castle. You put your index and middle fingers up to your lips, attempting to keep your cries in. As soon as your bedroom door had shut, you let loose. The pillow underneath your head caught all of your tears. The headache you were going to have in the morning was going to be wicked.

The sunlight streamed through the windows of your bedroom, signifying the morning had come. You lifted your head from the pillow, immediately wincing. A few ladies had come into your room, helping you out of bed. They brushed through your hair, throwing it into an updo while they bathed you.

You were pulled in every which direction as they put your dress on you. You tried your hardest to ignore how itchy the dress was on you and admire your figure in the mirror. You looked like a Goddess, you truly did. Your heart soared and leapt into the air like it was a bird itself. You were so excited; at the end of the day, you would be married to Jacob.

The way your knees wobbled as you stood behind the doors was similar to those of a baby deer when it’s learning how to walk. You hoped to God that nobody would let you fall in front of everyone. Your mind filled with millions of thoughts – would be really be at the end of the aisle waiting for you? Do you have time to runaway and be a runaway bride?

All the worries clouding your judgement and fueling your anxiety were subsided as soon as you had seen Jacob at the end of the aisle. He stood, hands steady in front of him. He took one look at you and his eyes begun to water. You tried your hardest not to cry the makeup that your ladies had done. You held your chin high and walked the rest of the way. You met him at the end, eyes watering while staring at his maroon colored tux.

The priest grabbed a dagger from the podium behind him, cutting a small diagonal line in each of your palms. You hissed as he dragged the blade over your palm, watching as the red blood began to rise to the surface. You stared at his palm, watching the blood pull to the surface without so much as a peep from Jacob. The two of you joined hands, arms tied together with a piece of white ribbon. The priest began his sermon, to which he promised would be brief. The two of you couldn’t look away from one another, his soft brown eyes continually boring into yours.

“Repeat the phrases as they are spoken to you...”

“Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone.

I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One.

I give ye my Spirit, 'til our Life shall be Done.”

The two turned towards the crowd, cheers and clapping ensuing after the priest declares you married. Your heart’s in your throat and you can barely anticipate the party that would soon follow. If the Kiszka’s knew how to do one thing, it was throwing a celebrational party.

The amount of wine that laid out in front of you was absurd, all different kinds from various reds to whites. Sparkling cider was offered as well, filling the glasses of many children and those who didn’t tolerate alcohol. You sat next to Jacob, his hand on your thigh. He looked towards you as you looked at the entire Great Hall filled with the constituents of your kingdoms.

You notice Sam leaning against a wall, head hung and immersed in conversation with one of the princes from a neighboring country. You knew from the strong nose he had, followed by the unruly curls that fell to his shoulders. His shoulders were broad and you could see them perfectly due to the shirt he was wearing being cut off at the shoulders. “You enjoying yourself, love?”

“I am. Much more excited for later, though. When we’re alone.”

“Why’s that?” He asked, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You know how you’ve made me feel so good lately?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. He nods to your question, watching you lick your lips before speaking again. “I want to do the same to you.”

289 notes · View notes

chaozsilhouette · 3 years

Text

Turbulent Beginnings

This forms the opening act to Macaque’s story, showing just how different his and Wukong’s early lives were and why he took Wukong’s disappearance so hard.

The idea Macaque was born from the wind was inspired by @animemoonprincess. And yes, I am a shameless fan of Macaque originally having white fur. The angst is just too perfect.

Brace yourselves, this isn’t going to be pretty. I am essentially shoving our boy through an emotional meat grinder.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

On a remote island, a day’s travel from China’s eastern shore, a massive hurricane raged as it had since the beginning of this world. The surrounding storms fed into it as its winds carved stone. No life had dared blossom on its soil out of fear of a painful demise. The merciless storm drank deeply of the waters of the sea, draining all aspects of potential and life before casting it aside. Not even curious spirits were spared.

Various deities had wondered why such a storm existed or why the Jade Emperor allowed such a dangerous presence to continue unchecked. Most believed that since the hurricane was stationary and prove no threat to the established order of the world, it was not important.

One day the hurricane vanished. As though it had never existed. Or rather that it had been transformed into something else.

It was the night of a new moon and with the hurricane gone, the island experienced its first cloudless sky. The only one to witness the momentous occasion was a monkie with pure white fur and six ears. Minding his manners, the nameless monkie bowed to the four winds in greeting.

The newborn proceeded to spend his days searching the island for something. Some clue as to the reason behind his birth. He could hear strange voices and words he didn’t understand yet at the same time could. He knew he wasn’t the only creature alive, so why was he alone?

For food, he walked his way through a cave system towards the sea, where he enjoyed the fish that were drawn in through the whirlpools and the mussels that clung to the sharp rocks. He grew to savor the taste of life, even though there was a part of him that craved something different.

Almost forty years passed before he mustered the courage to leave everything he knew to seek out those voices. He gathered all the driftwood and rope that had drifted onshore over the decades, fashioned it into a makeshift raft, and sailed towards the closest source of voices.

His voyage was actually pretty boring once he cleared the whirlpools.

The only exciting part about it was when that strange fish tried to sink his raft. It was bigger than any fish he’d previously seen with a mouth to match. Didn’t mean it survived past the first blow. Taking a bite Macaque wasn’t sure if he liked this fish. The muscles were tough and the flesh was rough on his tongue. He didn’t particularly like the taste. But there was enough to feed him for a full day.

In the end, he chose to eat a third of the fish’s muscles along with its heart before tossing back into the water.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Docking on dry land was an experience that would haunt him for years.

At first, he was filled with wonder at the sight of buildings and new creatures riding rafts far bigger than his.

When he stepped onto shore the whispers began.

The creatures, who he later learned were called humans, were pointing out his ears. They acknowledged his obvious intelligence. He heard them grip wooden instruments tightly. It was as if they expected him to do something.

No one made a move against him. No one approached him, but he could tell he wasn’t wanted. Everywhere he turned he saw eyes that cursed his every existence.

He didn’t stay in that village for long. In his mind, satisfying his curiosity wasn’t worth being stared at as though he was the source of all evil.

Demon.

That is what they called him. Was that what he was?

He didn’t know, but he didn’t like it.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He aimlessly wandered the countryside for far too long.

The first act of kindness he received was from a couple who could not have children of their own. He stumbled upon them by accident, but instead of the normal fearful expressions he’d come to expect they greeted him with genuine smiles and an offer to join them for dinner.

They took him in and treated him like family. He became the son they always wanted. They taught him how to properly speak and how to walk comfortably on two limbs. They blessed him with a name.

They were kind and nurturing. In another world, they may have been called bodhisattvas. But sadly, due to them being ordinary mortals, his time with them only lasted four decades.

He buried them with love but grew resentful of his weak emotions.

He learned what it was like to have someone welcome him home after a long day. He learned to savor the taste of a mother’s home-cooked meal. He enjoyed having a father figure who was willing to teach him old military tactics. He experienced friendly competitions to see who could paint the most accurate portrait of a flower they saw earlier that day. It was everything he never knew he craved and then it was gone. Leaving him with an empty home and a broken heart.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Nearly fifty years later he joined a band of traveling performers.

Their natural oddities allowed them to see who he really was and welcome him into their party. With their compassion, he was granted the opportunity to heal. He learned that despite the group’s large size, very few of them had any direct blood relations. What made them special was how they created their own family and turned what many called strange into something beautiful. Out of respect, he delved into the world of entertainment, found he had a natural talent for it.

When he took the stage people assumed he was in costume, but that didn’t matter. The applause of the audience was a gift he cherished. The sheer passion this family expressed through every second in life warmed his heart beyond words. They were just what he needed to bring him out of his depression.

Alas, it was not meant to stay.

One night their camp was ambushed by a group of demons. They were nothing special, hardly worth mentioning. But for him, back then, it was a fight he never imagined. He could easily handle human bandits, so could his family, but never had he traded blows with a small army of his fellow demons. With the rising of the sun, Macaque stared at the cruelly bright sky covered in blood. All around him bodies lay scattered, life essence soaking into the ground. Despite being tasked with fighting off nearly five dozen demonic opponents he managed to survive with barely a scratch, but he was alone. Again.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He tried to change things by sticking to his fellow demons. At least they lived longer.

Somehow that ended up with him becoming the apprentice to a demon healer for almost a century. She was a cold-hearted bitch with a heart of gold. Meticulous in her work, masterful in deduction, and short-tempered with the foolish. She gave everything to her practice and expected the same from him. It was bitter work, but he found it fulfilling. The knowledge that he now possessed the ability to restore others to peak condition settled some unknown part of his soul.

Of course, they would have visitors who wished to take advantage of her skills or steal the medicine. Between the two of them, they protected their clinic, but they weren’t always together. While she may try to hide it, she wasn’t the strongest demon out there. Apparently, the entire reason she got into medicine was to uncover why she was so weak. Centuries of research turned up nothing, but it did make her incredibly skilled at using poisons with her knives to compensate.

One day after he returned from gathering ingredients, he pulled back the door to find the shop in disarray, five unknown bodies slowly dying of extensive blood poisoning, and his master bleeding out from her severed arms. She always said she had no intention of entering Naraka alone.

Guess she kept her word.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

The cycle repeated itself over centuries. He would experience a brief window of happiness only for it to be savagely stolen from him, leaving him to mourn and curse his weak heart.

The small glimmers of kindness humanity showed him only made him curse their race even harder when he couldn’t walk into a village without being harassed. The humans who had proven stronger were sadly a rare breed. He was rare to encounter one a century and often they perished at the hands of their kind rather than by demons.

There were times when the ignorance had gotten so bad he’d taken to traveling with a constant glamour, disguising himself as an average human. Whenever he was in the presence of other demons, he allowed his true form to manifest, however, he made it look like he only had a single pair of ears. Standing out was the easiest way to wind up in a complicated situation he had no interest in trying to defuse.

That’s not to say his time was wasted.

Quite the contrary, he had learned much during his travels. He could hardly be compared to the happy young monkie, who was ignorant of the dangers and hardships this world held. In a sad attempt to fill the void, Macaque sought out wisdom and strength. He located masters of both the mystic and martial arts. He may have had to lie about his age, he was becoming quite the accomplished liar, but the results were more than worth it. With every stop, he found himself growing more certain of his strength and his identity.

Eventually, he discovered a strange monastery hidden in a cave in the face of a mountain.

He had never seen anything like it during his travels. But what truly drew his attention was the feeling the temple exuded, every stone exuded a strange aurora. Something powerful dwelled within, powerful yet there was an undeniably human quality to it all.

Hiding beneath his usual glamor, Macaque approached the temple with the desire to discover exactly what was being taught. Before he knew what was happening, he was speaking to the immortal sage who was running the joint. Master Subhuti welcomed him to his home and offered some tea. The disguised monkie was bombarded by dozens of questions, all of which he attempted to answer as though he was a normal human.

The master welcomed him as his newest disciple and showed him his new home. Later he learned the master could see through his disguise and sensed his potential. Apparently, the old immortal believed that the monkie would do well to learn his disciplines and he was fascinated by the monkie’s natural talent.Said something about how with proper guidance only the Buddha would be able to peer past his façade.

The monkie even received a new name to celebrate his rebirth. From that day forward he was Liu’Er Mihou, or the Six-Eared Macaque. He liked it. While he cherished the name his first family gifted him, he felt this was a good sign. A tribute to show that he was a changed monkie.

Regardless, he refused to drop his glamor. He had seen too many demons be cast out and attacked for getting sloppy. The other students were not thrilled about the newcomer showing them up and he wasn’t willing to give them a true reason to despise him. He learned quickly, more so than any other human disciple, but that put him at odds with those who were still struggling after years of training.

Macaque distanced himself from the others. They weren’t that interesting anyway. He didn’t care that they talked about him behind his back or were fully aware he could hear them. He couldn’t risk getting close so soon. He was determined to break the cycle. He didn’t care about immortality. He didn’t care about obtaining power. All he wanted was to end the pain. So far things had been working out in his favor.

Then heshowed up…

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

That trice damned monkie with peach-colored fur and markings like a golden mask. He was so naïve about the world. He treated everything as though it was some exciting game. His upbeat energy made Macaque sick. Some twisted part of him wanted to snap his neck just to end it, but a small part was fascinated by it. The other monkie reminded him of a time he had almost forgotten.

The Monkey King, or Sun Wukong, didn’t bother hiding his true appearance. Truthfully, Macaque wasn’t sure he knew how or that he should. He didn’t seem to notice how other students would keep their distance or how they kept their conversations as brief as possible without crossing the threshold into being considered rude.

He was so earnest and happy, it was painful. The new monkie pestered everyone about everything, it was like dealing with a newborn, but it seemed Macaque was his favorite to bother. The worst part was how he stared at Macaque as though he could peer past his glamour. Although Macaque wasn’t sure if that was truly possible. The Master could, but he dedicated centuries to refine his skills. Wait. How old was this annoyance? Perhaps he could smell he wasn’t like the other disciples.

Either way, he knew it was just a matter of time until the truth got out. He just didn’t expect it to be when he was changing.

Each student was offered a meager room for privacy. They were all the same size and offered little to no space for any customization, but the walls were enchanted to cut out sound whenever the doors were closed.

Behind those flimsy walls was the only time Macaque allowed his glamor to drop. While he valued being cautious, even he couldn’t keep up the glamour indefinitely, much less when he was asleep.

It was in that small space of safety that he discovered he wasn’t alone.

He had just allowed himself to relax when a smiling face covered in peach fuzz was shoved into his own.

“I knew it! You’re like me.” Sun Wukong happily exclaimed, stars practically dancing in his eyes.

“Shut up.” Macaque clamped his hand over the other’s mouth. Checking to ensure no one else was present and the door was shut, he faced the intruder. “Have you told anyone?” He hissed, while berating himself for failing to check the ceiling. You always look up when scanning a room, he knew that.

“Nope. Why are you hiding? You’re beautiful.” The cheerful demon spoke as though they were old friends. His golden eyes took in every hair of his fellow monkie’s true appearance.

“I’m a demon. And there is nothing beautiful about me.” Macaque growled.

“Yes, there is.” Wukong insisted. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you hiding? The Master let me in, I wager he knows about you, so why?”

Sighing, Macaque massaged the bridge of his nose. “I have been hurt enough times to know keeping a low profile is optimal in survival. It is better to keep one’s head down than risk getting called out.” From observation, he knew the newer student wouldn’t leave until he received answers, so the best option was to just give him what he wanted and pray he knew enough to leave.

“That’s no fun.” Wukong stuck his tongue out in distaste. “You shouldn’t have to hide who you are. We were born this way.” He jumped high into the air only to catch himself on his tail with a cheeky grin. “So, they’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Cute speech. But my answer is no. Now leave.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll fix that attitude right up.” Thankfully Wukong left, but not before sending a smile laced with mischief his way. “See you tomorrow.”

Macaque prayed to every deity that would be the end of it. But even he knew it was a futile attempt.

“Do you have a tribe?” Wukong asked, hanging by his tail from Macaque’s favorite tree.

A startled Macaque blinked at the random question. “A what?”

“A tribe. A family. A place to call home?” Wukong asked smoothly even if he wasn’t familiar with the term family until recently he knew it was important.

“Not anymore.” Glaring Macaque returned his focus to his meal.

“Aw.” Wukong knew that look. He had seen plenty of monkeys wear that arura after watching other tribe members die. “Then you should come with me!”

“What?”

“Yeah. You can join my tribe. There are dozens of us back home. Plenty of food and water, you’ll constantly be surrounded by others like us.”

“Other demons?”

“No.” Wukong smiled as though he told a funny joke. “Other monkeys.”

“There is no reason for me to join you.” Macaque stated, wishing he could finish his lunch in peace.

But Wukong wasn’t letting him go that easily. “And there’s no reason for you to refuse.” He stated, ignoring any and all social cues or common sense for respecting personal space.

It went on like that for years. Every day Macaque would awake to find gold eyes staring at him, waiting for his answer to change. Breaks were spent dodging the hyperactive monkie as he tried to eat alone. Training sessions soon found him sparring with the same partner.

The monkie was stubborn no doubt and Macaque feared his actions were slowly breaking down his walls. The pale furred monkie missed having a connection. He adored being able to talk to others, but whenever he opened up he only got hurt.

But maybe, maybe this time could be different…

Wukong was training to obtain immortality. He had already proven to be stronger and more clever than anyone he’d known. The simian showed that he wanted to know him better. He constantly tried to touch his fur, something he called grooming, which felt pretty nice.

Maybe…maybe this time he could truly have a home.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

A streak of light accompanied by a sharp whistle pierced the night sky. For a brief moment, it vanished before exploding in a beautiful display of color and light.

On the monastery’s rooftop, Wukong backflipped in joy at the sight, his golden eyes wide. “Happy New Year!” The monkie cried. In the village below, he could make out dozens of voices echoing the greeting.

It didn’t matter how many times he saw them, fireworks were a sight he always adored. “This has got to be mankind’s greatest invention!” The flowers of fire were simply too beautiful. So unique. Nothing on Flower Fruit Mountain compared to such beauty, it made him thankful he decided to leave.

From the corner of his eye, Wukong noticed that his companion was clutched his ears wincing with every detonation. “You okay, bud?”

“I’m fine. Just loud.” Macaque said. He was truly questioning his sanity by joining Wukong on the roof. Normally he barricaded himself in his room, but his friend was so thrilled about sharing their first New Year together he couldn’t say no.

“Oh.” Somehow the new set of fireworks didn’t look that attractive. “We can go inside if you want.” They were beautiful, but nothing was worth feeling helpless as his friend curled up in pain.

“I’ll be fine. I’m adjusting to the volume. No different than punches that break the sound barrier, right?” Macaque tried flashing a confident grin to varying success.

Wukong suspected that Macaque was lying, but learned enough to know further prying would just cause the other monkie to simply shut out the world. “I’m glad you’re coming with me.”

“You made a persuasive argument.” Anyone who could harass him for nearly five years straight proved their determination.

Wukong playfully stuck his tongue out. “Hehe…Seriously though, I’m happy you chose to be part of my tribe. No one should be alone.”

“Then why have I been for so long.”

“I doubt even Master knows. But you won’t be able to say that anymore.” Wukong wrapped his arms around his best friend. Pulling him close, Wukong faced the fireworks, unconsciously grooming Macaque as he savored every pop of color.

Beneath those gentle digits, Macaque steadied himself against the soothing heartbeat of the one he slowly learned to trust. As the display continued, the pale monkie learned to appreciate the human’s creations. Turns out they weren’t so bad so long as you have the right company.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

“I’m sorry. You’re what?!” Macaque’s response was perfectly justified. There was no way he just heard what he thought he heard.

Wukong flashed a blinding grin. “I’m heading to the Celestial realm. I’ve been given a position in Celestial Bureaucracy.” Not seeing any problems whatsoever.

“Why?” Just why? From everything he heard about those stuck-up deities, they would never hand over a position to anyone without requiring the completion of an impossible task, much less to a demon. Least of all a demon who has done nothing but terrorize others and unleash chaos whenever he went.

“Don’t know. But I got to go right now.” Wukong shrugged as he finished packing. The Gold Star of Venus was waiting just outside the waterfall.

“But what about Flower Fruit Mountain? What about your subjects? What am I supposed to do? How long are you going to be gone?” Macaque fired off a rapid stream of questions. Panic was beginning to take hold.

Wukong, however, was as calm and confident as ever. “Stop worrying so much. Look I’ll be back as soon as I can. Until then you’re in charge.” He finished as though it was obvious.

“Me!” A white tail nearly burst into twice its normal size in shock. “But I have no idea how to run a Court!”

“Neither do I. Not in the traditional sense at least. Look just keep an eye on things. Protect the monkeys from hunters and malicious demons. Sometimes one of the allied demon kings will ask for some help. It’s nothing you haven’t helped me with before. I’ll be back before you know it. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle things until I get back.”

Seeing his companion and good friend growing even more lost, Wukong closed the distance and took his face in both hands. “This is a good thing. If I can make this work, none of us will ever have to worry about being hunted or not having enough food ever again.”

In a snap, Macaque grabbed the king’s arms. “What if I don’t care about any of that? What if I just want you to stay?”

For the first time in their conversation, Wukong’s cocky attitude vanished replaced with a loving smile. Gently prying Macaque’s claws off his shirt, Wukong placed his cheek on a palm as he kissed the knuckles of another. “I can’t. This is too good an opportunity to pass up. This isn’t goodbye. I’ll keep in touch. The time will fly. We’ll make this work. Trust me.”

“Alright, Wukong. I trust you.” Macaque said, ignoring every fiber of his being that screamed this would end poorly.

“If things go wrong, remember I’m just a telepathic call away.” Summoning his cloud, Wukong back flipped onto it with his bag. “Monkey King, out!”

One sonic boom later and he was gone, along with a good chunk of the cave walls.

“Hpmh. That’s my idiot.”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

How did this happen? How did this happen?!

One moment they were fighting for their lives against the army of the Celestial Realm and the next Macaque bore witness to Wukong being carted away in a diamond snare.

Now as he stared at the charred remains of what once was a growing village of monkeys, Macaque felt something within him change.

For almost two months he had burned in celestial fires. The sounds of the dead and dying rang out, making his namesake almost bleed. He choked on the ashes of the mortal monkeys. The air had a strangely sweet and bitter taste to it.

Macaque lost count of all the times he charged back into the fires to save as many heartbeats as he could. He wasn’t sure but he suspected he blacked out more than once. With every heartbeat that stilled before he could reach them, a part of him followed them into Yama’s realm.

Finally, the fires had died down. They didn’t have anything left to burn.

All around him he saw the pitiful leftovers of what was once a thriving community. He had treated the survivors the best he could, but he lost his medical equipment in the blaze. The only ones he didn’t have to worry about were the monkeys Wukong made immortal, but he did what he could to ease the pain.

But still, he wondered why…why were they staring at him as though they were confused?

Maybe he was overthinking everything. He just worked through 49 days without any sleep. Everything was stable for now. The best course of action was to wash off the ash and get some much-deserved rest.

There was nothing the Celestial Realm could do to Wukong that he couldn’t handle. Besides Macaque didn’t even know how to get there even if he was at full strength. Wukong couldn’t die so it was only a matter of time before someone tripped up allowing him to return home.

He just had to be patient.

Stepping into the clear river, Macaque’s jaw almost dropped as the water around him immediately turned gray. He didn’t realize he was that filthy.

He started scrubbing himself, ducking under the water to ensure he didn’t miss a spot. He had to move a few times due to the sheer amount of shoot and ash that clung to him. The entire cleaning process took a full hour before the water ran clear.

Stepping out, Macaque felt more refreshed than he ever remembered. Shaking to remove as much access water as possible, all the towels were soot so he had to make do, he paused by the waterside to see how much fur he lost. But what he saw met none of his expectations.

Instead of fur that invoked images of the moon, he was cloaked in the color of the darkest ink.

“What happened to me?”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Five hundred years.

Five hundred years he searched, for any trace of the legendary Five-Fingered Moutain Buddha used to trap Sun Wukong only to find nothing. Macaque scoured far and wide. Neither the winds nor the shadows could lead him towards his friend.

He picked fights with countless demons who claimed to witness the great Monkey King brought low. It barely took two punches before they broke down crying how it had been nothing but a lie, how they only repeated rumors.

He bargained for any information he could find, but all accounts claimed the mountain didn’t exist. Many refused to answer him on principle of not interfering with the Celestial Realm’s issues. Their last mistake. Others took Wukoong’s punishment as a sign to amass as much power as possible out of fear that they would be targeted next.

Macaque had witnessed the formation of more alliances and territory grabs in the past century than had been recorded in the last thousand years. Demons were becoming more power-hungry and suspicious, which meant even more trouble for the humans. Things were becoming so chaotic, Macaque had to wonder if it was planned.

But he couldn’t dwell on that.

He hadn’t visited Flower Fruit Moutain in years. His clones kept guard, but slowly he was losing the drive to keep replenishing them. The only reason he called that mountain home was because of Wukong. It wasn’t home without him.

But he had to keep looking. Had to keep trying. He would find his friend.

Somehow.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He tricked himself into thinking this would be different. That he would no longer be alone. That finally he had found a family he could keep.

He was an idiot!

The truth was he was no different than anyone else. The world was Sun Wukong’s toy chest and Macaque was merely a shiny new trinket to bat around until he grew bored. Seeing him with that group, knowing that he chose them over their past, was too much.

He was sick of being left behind. He had been left alone so many times. What made him think he couldn’t be replaced?

He could have attacked, ripped their precious monk to pieces, he could have...should have...but he was tired.

Returning to Flower Fruit Mountain was a chore, but one he swore he would never complete again. The monkeys questioned his return, asking where their king was and if he’d return soon. Macaque ignored them all. He simply walked to the part of the manor he and Wukong had shared for years, where he had been waiting for his return.

Staring at all the knickknacks and souvenirs they had collected from their adventures, Macaque made up his mind. Grabbing a large sturdy bag, he swiftly packed his essentials. In another, he packed non-perishable goods and water containers.

Stepping out, a flash of something peach-colored caught his eye. Spinning around, hope burning a hole in his chest but his dreams once more were proved false. It was just the special peach tree Wukong had planted from the leftover pit he had saved from his time in the Celestial Realm. Apparently, it had reached maturity and was proudly bearing the first fruit Macaque had seen despite having been planted nearly half a millennia ago.

Macaque wasn’t sure why it was so special, Wukong just winked and said it was a surprise for when they could share a fresh one. Feeling something wet on his arm, Macaque looked down to see his hand stretched towards the tree and the memories he held. Feeling his cheeks, he realized he was crying, which was strange as he didn’t think he had any tears left.

Spurred by longing and spite, Macaque plucked six peaches from the tree and stuffed them into his bag. It wasn’t like Wukong was going to miss them. And he needed the food.

#lego monkie kid au #Vanishing Shadow Au #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #sun wukong #abandonment issues #no communication #angst #white macaque

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tigerseye46 · 3 years

Text

A Hero Is Born (Red Shark/Sand Au)

Summary: After being dismissed by Guanyin after centuries under their teaching, Red arrived at the city to live a normal life, hiding his identity and powers. He has spent four years in the city and works at Culinary Cicada, content with how he is now. He didn’t expect his life to change one day.

A/N: Finally got this done. There are going to be rarepairs but aren’t the main focus for this chapter so I didn’t tag it. Sun Wukong’s alias is Sun Hàoyú 昊瑜 meaning “vast and limitless excellence.” Zhu Bajie’s alias is Zhu Xiùliàng 秀亮 meaning “refined light.” Sorry if these aren’t good aliases. I know Sha Wujing’s staff can’t control water, but in this au, it can. He learned how to do that after the journey. Also I want to say thank you all my anons and others who put in ideas for this au! It made it really fun! Anyway enjoy!

AO3 Link

Red would admit he didn’t care much for the legends as other people did. He had been a small part of those legends so they weren’t extraordinary to him (not that he had revealed that information to anyone).

But Mr. Sun and Tang always loved to talk about them, especially the latter, so he listened to the elders. Today was one of those days. A special day that would change his life forever.

“The thing you need to understand, bud, is that the old legends are never finished. While there may be no pages left to turn, there is always more. Years ago, the Spider Queen and her army attacked. No one could stop them, no one except… Sha Wujing. Using his crescent moon spade, he trapped the Spider Queen under a mountain. He made it so no one else could wield it and he trapped her forever.”

“With the battle won, Sha Wujing… disappeared and was never seen again. It is said that the spade remains there, preventing our world from being destroyed. Because of him, civilization was able to prosper into the awesome world we see today. All thanks to Sha Wujing!”

Red hummed as he leaned against the counter. “That’s cool I guess.”

Mr. Sun scoffed. “Just cool? You know how many people would love that story?”

“I’m just not that impressed by it.”

“How dare you. You always react to the stories that way. Thought that one would bring more excitement.”

“Well, I’m not your audience. You’re not putting on a play for me.”

“At least you listen anyway.”

“That I do. I do think Sha Wujing is more impressive than say the Sun Wukong or Zhu Bajie.” At least he didn’t attack him as much as the others.

Sun appeared as if he was offended by the statement. “He is impressive… I like the Monkey King better,” he muttered. “Anyway, you know the deal. One peach soup.”

“Yea, yea. You got it.” He attempted to pass the bowl but it was quickly taken away by Tang.

“Not so fast. You left out so many details, Hàoyú. No extensive details of how he defeated the Spider Queen? He’s a hero! He deserves a better explanation than that.”

With an eye roll, Hàoyú responded, “Whatever.” He made grabby hands at the bowl. “Can I have my soup now?”

“No. You’re a scholar, tell the story accurately or I might go to your rival.” Sun huffed at the mention. “I could do better, better than those stupid depictions of Sha Wujing, no one can really capture his handsomeness, huh?” He cleared his throat, the small blush on his cheeks fading away. “Anyway, Red, you have orders to take out. Get to it!”

“I was about to take my break.”

“Break? You've been taking a break all morning. How is Culinary Cicada supposed to flourish if you’re slacking off?”

He began pushing Red, rumpling the other’s lotus print shirt. He shoved takeout bags in his hands then sent him out. The human heard a slurp behind him. He spun around to see Sun had stolen the soup back. Furrowing his brows, he suggested, “How about you tell an actually good and detailed story about Sha Wujing and you keep the bowl?”

“You just love hearing about your crush. Alright, it’s a deal.”

————

Red entered an abandoned construction site, whistling a tune under their breath and focusing on their phone. He paused when he heard a voice. “It’s amazing that you’ve finally done it! Are you ready, you two?”

A nasally voice replied, “For the last time, Goliath, we’re almost done.”

“Sorry, Syntax! I’m just so excited!”

“You can’t blame uncle Goliath’s excitement, dad.”

“Hmph. Well, try to hold it in for a bit longer.”

The demon hid behind some rocks. He spotted three spiders and a human surrounding a mountain.

One spider towered over the group, he fiddled with his fingers nervously, indicating that despite being the giant, he was probably the most gentle one out there.

Another had his hands behind his back, tapping his feet impatiently.

The third was tinkering with an invention, a device strapped to his back. The human was beside the third, he had a purple bandanna with two green marks, almost like eyes, wrapped around his forehead and a black coat with white fur.

“Because of you two, we can lift Sha Wujing’s spade!”

Red moved higher up and looked at the glowing object. The duck beside him quacked out of surprise. What was a duck doing here? Whatever. It wasn’t important.

“Sha Wujing’s spade,” he whispered.

“The spider clan will be restored!” Goliath’s shoulders briefly bounced up in surprise. “Huh?”

Huntsman was on top of the mountain and started reaching for the weapon. “Huntsman,” Syntax yelled. “Don’t do that!”

“Whatever, nerd.” He gripped it and instantly got zapped by it which sent him crashing into a wall.

Syntax stood over him. “Idiot. This is the hundredth time you’ve tried this. You think you would have learned your lesson by now. We’ve clarified that he made it so only someone worthy would wield it.”

“Which is why we have this.” The human gestured to the power glove. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

“Hmph, brat.”

“Go ahead, Xiaotian.” Syntax pulled Huntsman up, their cheeks becoming green for the slightest second before they focused on the kid.

Xiaotian strolled up to the weapon and pulled on it with the glove. Sparks danced until he was able to rip it off. He held it high in the air and shouted in triumph, “Look at what I did!” Goliath and Syntax applauded him while Huntsman huffed.

“I could have done it,” he mumbled.

Xiaotian went back up to his family with a smile and waited a second before asking, “Wait, why isn’t anything happening? Are you three sure this is the right mountain?”

Syntax scoffed. “No, Xiaotian, I think it’s the other one.”

The mountain rumbled and cracked in the center. The Spider Queen destroyed it and crawled out with a cackle. “I’ve returned! The queen is back!”

Red’s eyes widened. Oh no. The queen was free. What should he do?

The duck pecked his hands as he was pondering. “Hey!” He attempted to shoo the duck away. “Shoo! It’s rude to peck at people’s hands!”

The four bowed to her with heads hung low, the human placed the crescent moon spade aside. “My queen,” Huntsman started. “We’re glad to have you free.”

“My clan,” she cried. “Wait, where are the rest of you?”

“I’m sorry. We’re some of the few spiders left.”

The Queen’s fist clenched, her happy tone at being freed slipped away. “I see. It’s all Sha Wujing’s fault. Now introductions are in order for the new members.”

“Well, there’s me, Huntsman. Then there’s Goliath and…”

“I can introduce myself, brute. I’m Syntax, my lady, and this is my son, Qi Xiaotian.”

If Red wasn’t so focused on the situation, he would have thought, Son? Those two look nothing alike.

“Son?” Her majesty questioned.

“Yes, he is my biological son. I wasn’t born a spider but I would say those details are for another time.”

“Alright. How did you all manage to free me?”

The human stepped forward with a spring in his step. “I did it, my queen! I managed to harness its power to make it our-” Her majesty loomed with a glare. Xiaotian nervously chuckled. “Our power,” he finished.

With a scoff, the queen congratulated him reluctantly, “Good job… for a human.”

Ignoring the human comment, he beamed. “Thank you! Now, we, the Spider clan, can rule the world!”

The duck continued to peck at the demon. The demon flapped a hand to get rid of the sting while the bird focused on the other one and made him fall right onto Qi Xiaotian.

Red held up the bag of food. “Hey… did someone order food?”

Huntsman and Syntax stared at Goliath. “What? I didn’t order anything.”

Xiaotian shoved him. “Get off me, dumbass! You ruined my moment!”

Spider Queen focused on the intruder. “Well, well, we’ll, an eavesdropper has fallen into our midst. It’s a shame to crush such a tiny, insignificant thing like you as my first act but, oh, what can you do?” She was about to crush them when she was interrupted.

“Wait, my queen.”

Ugh, the human. She rubbed her face. “Yes?”

“You don’t have to waste your energy. I’ll handle it! Allow me to prove myself!”

“Fine. Go ahead.”

Red muttered, “Maybe I can go now.”

“You’re fortunate, grocery boy. It’s not every day someone is crushed by the Spider Clan! You should consider yourself-”

The demon’s ears picked up a sound, his gaze drifted to the staff. “Sha Wujing’s staff,” a voice whispered.

Xiaotian growled, “You’re not listening! I, Qi Xiaotian, will not be disrespected! You’re toast!”

The human attempted to punch him with the glove but he blocked it… blocked it with the crescent moon staff. Fuck. “How did you?”

How did he? He could have used his fire to block it. Why didn’t he? Well, his identity was a secret and he barely used his fire since he became Guanyin’s disciple so that was understandable. But to grab the staff, what was he thinking?

“That’s scientifically impossible,” Syntax said.

“I don’t understand what’s happening but I don’t care. That’s ours!”

“I was supposed to be on my break! Dang it, Mr. Tang!” The weapon activated and whacked the human and the spiders (save the queen) away.

“This can’t be,” her majesty muttered in disbelief.

“That was not what I expected.”

Huntsman hissed, “That doesn’t belong to you. Give it to us!”

“Ummmm… no?” Then suddenly he was launched into the air by the weapon. “AHHHHHH!”

“He can’t leave with the damn thing!”

“I was trapped under a mountain and suddenly, a thief takes it!”

Xiaotian bowed. “Allow me, your majesty. I won’t fail again.”

“Fine! Go!”

The human grabbed his technological staff and made off in his motorcycle to give chase.

-------

Red took in deep breaths to calm himself down as he landed on the ground. Xiaojiao snapped a picture of herself with her sword and motorcycle outfit. During the picture, she used her magic to create sparkles. “Nailed it!” She pocketed her phone and put the sword away.

“Xiaojiao!”

“That was a cool game of tag! You looked like you were having fun! I wanted to join in too!”

“I almost died.”

“But you didn’t! We should go to the arcade! Invite your new friend!”

“He was trying to kill me.”

Her face turned dark. “Where does he live? I’ll handle him.”

“Red Son! Where are you?” Tang stormed up to them. He showed his phone to reveal a zero-star rating. “I got a zero-star rating because of you. Would you like to explain yourself?”

“I think what happened is-”

Xiaojiao giggled. “Congrats, Tang! It’s better than nothing!”

“No, it isn’t! You know you would be in trouble if this happened to my magic shop, missy. Now, Red, you’re-” Tang searched around. “Where did he go?”

Red slipped past him. “Mr. Sun!”

“Hey! Come back here!”

Ignoring him, the demon ran into the shop. “Mr. Sun!”

Hàoyú was in the middle of his bowl. “Yea?”

“So, remember the story you told me this morning? About the Spider Queen?”

Tang and Mei followed him. “Red, we weren’t done talking.”

“Yea, that’s great, Mr. Tang.”

Sun sipped his soup, completely disinterested. “Yea? What about her?”

Red got close to his face. “She’s back! Sha Wujing’s staff was removed! We have to find him! He has to save-”

Sun pushed him back and held his bowl protectively. “You’re getting spit in my soup. Calm down. Who knew that would be the story you get wrapped up in? Relax, it’s just a story.”

“It’s not just a story.” He showed the spade. Hàoyú pursed his lips, contemplating the possibility or holding back from saying something snarky, Red wasn’t sure.

“Wow, Red, you found a stick!”

“No! It belongs to Sha Wujing!” The three burst into laughter. Red growled, his fists briefly flamed but no one noticed except him. “Listen to me! The Spider Queen is out there. I’ll prove this belongs to Sha Wujing.”

Sun raised a brow. “Okay. How?”

“Ummm…” The spade wobbled, it grew then stabbed part of the wall, causing a crack before shortening.

Sun gasped and he was about to get a closer look when Tang pushed him away. Tang grabbed the arm holding the spade and hoisted it up towards the sky. His eyes twinkled. “Sha Wujing’s spade! I knew it! His awesome weapon that he used to seal evil! Wait… why do you have it? And where is the queen now?”

“She’s at a fashion store,” Mei responded.

“What?!”

“I hope this isn’t one of your puppy videos, young lady.”

“There’s always time for a puppy video, Tangy, but no. Look at what’s trending. Hashtag Spider Queen!” She showed a video of the Spider Queen robbing a fashion store with Qi Xiaotian. The queen used some device to absorb a one-of-a-kind item.

Tang panicked when the video ended. “Okay! We have to do something! Get in the truck!” He shoved them in the truck while they shouted out of surprise.

The group yelped as Tang drove like a madman through the streets. They were squished in the car, Red rasped out, “This is a little uncomfortable.”

“Tang! Can you slow down? You’re going to kill us,” Mr. Sun told him. He couldn’t die but he knew it would be unfortunate if the group got into a crash.

“Yea. We need to get to Sha Wujing without getting injured in a crash.”

“Guys! The Spider Queen moved downtown! She’s destroying the mall!”

“We need to get to Sha Wujing fast. The only problem is we have no idea how to get there.”

“Ugh, you’re right. How do we get there? Do we just keep driving?” Tang asked in a frantic tone.

Mr. Sun replied, “Well, if you would have let me talk before you pushed us in here. I know someone who could get us there!”

“Really?”

“Yep! An old friend of mine. The greatest, excellent, glorious Zhu Xiùliàng. Now drive there, Tang!”

“Drive where?”

“Uhhhh… oh, yea, you need directions.”

-------

The group watched kids climb on the tall pig like a jungle gym while others were in the corner conversing or doing other activities. Wukong had a big grin on his face at the scene.

Xiùliàng chuckled and cautioned, “Careful, little ones.” He gently put them down, they frowned and he reassured them, “You can play later. Grandpa has to talk to these people first.” They reluctantly agreed and began breaking away to do their own things.

Sun blushed as the light hit Xiùliàng in a way that illuminated his beauty. Tang whispered to him with a smirk, “Oh, now I know why you brought us here.”

Xiaojiao teased, “Wow, Mr. Sun. We have to save the world and here you are trying to pick up a guy. I see you.” Sun shot them both a glare.

The pig didn’t hear them, he instead focused on beaming at the kids as they walked away. A hand was placed on his hips and he turned to the group with a “Sorry about that. That’s a lot to take in.”

“It most certainly is, old friend. I was hoping something like this wouldn’t happen,” he muttered.

“I was hopin’ that too,” Xiùliàng muttered back. A child with black hair tied up in braids and a blue headband with a flower ran up to the pig with a drawing in hand. “What is it, Yǎshuǐ?” He picked her up so she rested on her arm.

“I made you a drawing, grandpa!” She waved it in front of the pig’s face then looked towards the group. Her eyes briefly widened in surprise before she gave a wave. “Hi, yéyé!”

“Hi, hon,” he greeted.

“Oooo, yéyé. Didn’t know you had grandkids with him,” he teased. “Why didn’t you invite me to your wedding and why didn’t the paparazzi cover it?”

“Shut up, Tang. It’s for respect, you know that.”

“Mhmm…”

Red shook his head. “Disregarding Mr. Sun’s love life,” he murmured. “Mr. Zhu, we need your help to find Sha Wujing.”

Xiaojiao got on her knees, bringing her friend down with her and pleaded, “Yea, we could really use your help.”

Red sighed. “Please help us. The fate of the world is at stake.”

“Alright,” he answered. “Really?”

“Of course. Anything for Sun.” The two cheered. “I’ll just drop these kids off then we’ll go.”

“WOOOOO!”

------

Tang hummed as he walked along the path, trying to contain his excitement. “See, this isn’t that bad,” he said then a trap sprung out of nowhere. “Eep! Never mind! Stupid Sun, stupid Zhu, why did we let them stay behind?”

“Because you said they could.”

“Careful, Tangy. I wonder why Sha Wujing chose to live here.”

“I don’t know. Good thing it isn’t Sun Wukong’s home or we would have to go pass the Flaming Mountains. They actually had to borrow my m- Princess Iron Fan’s fan to-”

A cackle came out of nowhere. Syntax appeared. “If it isn’t you three.” Syntax used the glove to pound at the ground, sending it up.

“Hey! Be careful, kids!”

“I’ll be taking that spade.”

Red held the weapon up. “This is Sha Wujing’s. You are not taking it.”

“You’re just a bunch of broken metal, can’t even make anything useful.” “What? Oh, whatever.” He charged at the spider who caught the spade with glove.

He was launched and heard the distant cry of “RED” as he blacked out.

------

The demon woke up on Sha Wujing’s mountain. “I’m… I’m here?” He stood up and started walking. He spotted a house and peeked inside but found no one so he continued onwards. There was a handmade statue of Tripitaka and Sha Wujing. “Wow.”

The sound of a twig snapping caught his attention. He saw the very person he was looking for glancing at him with a frown. “Huh?” Then the figure ran off.

He followed quickly and reached a river, a single fish. “A fish?” The fish jumped out of the water, a blue light surrounded it. “Ack!” The older demon appeared. “Sha Wujing?”

“It’s been a long time, Red Son or should I say, Red Boy?”

“You know it’s me?”

“You literally just switched the Boy to Son. No shit. Surprise your little friends haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Yea, I haven’t told them yet.”

“I know. Anyway, where’s my spade?”

“Oh… ummm… I’m sorry! I lost it. I was trying to bring it to you and-”

Wujing laughed. “I know. I’ve been watching you.”

“What?” He flashed back to some of the animals he saw. “That was you?”

“Yep. I need something of you, kid. I need you to be my successor.”

“What? Are you sure? Has your brain short circuited?”

“No,” he replied annoyed. “My brain is fine. You’re going to be my successor. Look you came all this way and were fine.”

“Because I’m a demon!”

“Regardless of that, you still made your way here and you’re experienced in fighting. Be a hero.”

“What about the Spider Queen?”

“What about the Spider Queen? Take it as a trial or a warmup.”

“But I-” He sighed, he was hoping he could lead a normal life but he supposed he had no other choice especially since the elder had no intent on helping. The elder was changed, certainly different from the demon who was considered more calm and rational.

Sha Wujing grunted. “What are one of those bullshit quotes I can give you? Oh, right. Believe in yourself and you’ll be fine. The spade was taken from you! Get it back!”

“Alright!” He zoomed off.

Wujing whispered, “Hope this makes you happy, master.”

-------

Xiaojiao was about to use her powers when Red Son crash landed. Red dusted himself off.

“Kid,” Tang yelled.

“Red,” Xiaojiao shouted. “You’re alive! We saw you blast off! We thought something happened to you! Where did you get the jet? You crashed it already! Did you find Sha Wujing?”

“Yep!”

Tang questioned as he looked around frantically, “Where is he?”

“He said it’s up to me, to all of us.” Sun and Zhu exchanged glances.

“What?”

“That’s anticlimactic.”

“How are we meant to fight that?” Sun motioned to the Spider Queen’s humongous form.

“We believe in ourselves. You clean the streets while I stop her… somehow.”

“The jet would have been useful.” She kicked the broken pieces and a speed bike was revealed.

“That works.”

“You can do it, pal!”

Red drove off and approached the queen. “If isn’t the thief trying to ruin my big moment.” She attempted to squish him when he dodged with the bike.

“Where is it? Where is it?” He squinted at the device the queen had been using to absorb objects, the spade rested in the middle. “Here goes nothing.” He ran into it.

Xiùliàng covered the group. “I’ve won! The clan has been restored!” She stumbled. “Huh?” Red emerged with the weapon. “Sha Wujing?”

“Nope. Just Red.” Red punched her. Spider Queen tried to blast them, they dodged with taunts, “Nice try! You missed! Almost!” They pushed her down with the spade then used it to cut half of a building. “Here we go!”

As he was about to trap her, the Queen roared, “I won’t let this happen again!” She destroyed it, the younger demon was sent backwards. “Sorry, doll. Good luck trying to trap me again. I AM THE QUEEN!” Red’s gaze shot towards a body of water. “You might have that idiot’s staff but you are not Sha Wujing!”

“No, I’m not. I’m Red, his successor!” He lifted the spade up, water swirled around it and he sent it to attack the queen. “It’s time for your reign of terror to end!”

The queen gasped and her powers waned, she turned back to her normal form. “That’s impossible!”

“Nothing is impossible if you believe.” Xiaotian raged, “This isn’t over! You wouldn’t be so mighty with your precious powers, sand boy! Come fight me!”

Red was about to do when a web entangled him. The three spiders showed themselves. “Nice try. We know when to leave the party. We’ll see you,” Huntsman said. Syntax threw a smoke bomb and they disappeared.

The group cut Red free. “You can’t run when I’m about to win! Hmph.”

His friend hugged him. “You kicked SQ’s butt! Without us the city would be toast.”

“I couldn’t have done it on my own.”

Xiùliàng hugged them. “You did.”

“You’re the new Sha Wujing now I guess.”

“I’m proud of you, Red,” Tang said. He was proud of his kid but he couldn’t understand why Sha Wujing had chosen to hand his weapon to a random kid. He’ll think about it later. “I’m really proud.”

“What do we do now?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Red perked up. “Yea! We could bring justice to the world! Go after bad guys!”

Sun suggested, “Or we could eat.”

“Let’s go with that.”

The group discussed their recent adventure while Sha Wujing watched from a building. He frowned, shifted to a duck and flew off.

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gronjon44 · 3 years

Text

REVILLAGE Happy Ending AU continued

Castle Dimitrescu Pt 1

Wanted to continue the Happy Ending AU I started so I'm gonna make posts about each respective ending I did (Alcina and Donna first)

Alcina found her new home interesting. After Miranda's downfall Chris Redfield worked to find places befitting the remaining Lords since they had cooperated, and all Alcina wanted was a new home for her and her daughters.

The castle they were appointed to was on the outskirts of an small French village, a name Alcina didn't care to remember; the walls towered over her, an old watch tower standing just a few yards from the main gate.

Alcina: Who did you say this castle belonged to Christopher?

Chris: It's Chris. And the files said it was an old army fort, probably built some time around the Revolution and was later abandoned. Do you have any issues with it?

Alcina: No, none at all. I was just curious because of that watchtower is all. Thank you for finding this for us.

Chris: It's no trouble. And you remember our agreement?

Alcina: I do, though I still think you're being too restrictive.

Chris: I'm just asking you to hold off on any kidnapping-

Alcina: And I told you that I have a duty as a mother to keep my daughters well fed. And besides we still have the villagers from Miranda's village.

Chris: Which I'm still against by the way.

Alcina: I told you we aren't killing them. We're just using the men for food and the women will become handmaidens we will take the utmost care of them.

Chris: I still don't like the idea of human cattl- *sigh* Look forget it, we'll figure it out later.

Chris's earpiece begins to chatter,, Lobo's voice coming through

Chris: I just got word that the last truck of blood is one its way. You should have enough to tide you over till the next drop-off.

Alcina: Or until we need to replenish by... other means.

Chris: Right... before I go I want to know, how are they all taking the change?

Alcina: It's been a process. Some still think Miranda will come and save them, others have mostly given up. Those who haven't done either have... adjusted to say the least.

Chris: And your daughters?

Alcina: Well for the most part. Cassandra and Diana weren't bothered by the change though Bella has been surprisingly anxious, what with the new territory and all.

Chris: Territory?

Alcina: Bella is very territorial, likes to know her surroundings. Be aware of who or what her next meal is.

Chris: Right...

Chris turned to see the Beneviento woman sitting in the courtyard, silently stitching together a small doll before setting it down to watch the clouds.

Chris: And what of your sister Donna? How has she taken the change?

Alcina: Donna is... adjusting. She's more sound of mind then before we left Miranda's village but she hasn't done as well since leaving Angie behind.

Chris: The Bride doll? I thought she moved on from that.

Alcina: It isn't that simple Christoph-

Chris: Just call me Redfield.

Alcina: Fine then, Mr Redfield. Donna leaving Angie behind is arguably the hardest thing she has gone through since her parents passing. That doll was her voice for a long time, and it was the closest thing she had left to a family outside of the other Lords. Part of her died in that village, and she's doing her best to cope.

Chris: Well I want updates. You may have helped kill the Megamycyte but as far as I'm concerned your all still Bioweapons, and I'll have my eyes on you until I don't see you as an immediate threat.

Alcina: If you keep that up then you'll go blind Mr Redfield.

Chris: Just keep an eye on her.

Chris's earpiece begins chattering again; after some nodding snd mumbling, he begins to return to his vehicle.

Chris: Lobo's gonna be here shortly. Just do me a favor and keep you're daughters away from him this time.

He slams the door, starting the vehicle and pulling out of the courtyard.

Chris: He's still recovering from the last time.

Alcina watches the black SUV pull away, leaving her standing alone in the courtyard; she turned to see Donna slowly working on her doll, stopping to undo her work every so often.

She steps up to her, prompting her to quickly set the doll aside.

Donna: Hello sister, is everything alright with the soldiers?

Alcina: Yes everything is fine he was just letting me know more blood is arriving soon. How are you doing?

Donna: I'm doing better, just not used to the quiet is all...

Alcina took a seat next to Donna, her frame barely able to fit next to her; they sat silently together, Donna working on her doll.

Alcina: Whats her name?

Donna, having spaced out for a moment, re-centered herself and turned the doll for Alcina to see

Donna: I haven't decided yet, though I had considered naming her Ang-

She went silent, having caught herself before she could finish her sentence.

Donna: Mara... I- I considered naming her Mara... in memberence of Moreau...

Alcina: Donna we should really discuss-

Donna: There's nothing to discuss sister. I'm fine, everything is fine it's just-

She stopped sewing, placing the doll on her lap and resting her hands on her head, being mindfull of the veil; even after everything that happened she still wore a veil over her face, ashamed of her deformity.

Donna: Did I make a mistake leaving her behind Alcina? She was all a had left of my father of my old life... maybe I could've kept her and grown-

Alcina: Angie was part of Miranda and if you kept her she would've kept you back in that village or worse-

Donna: She was alive Alcina... I gave her life life I abandoned her... what kind of person does that-

Alcina: She wasn't alive Donna. She was an extension of yourself and an outlet for your traumatic experiences caused by Miranda. You don't need her anymore you'll be okay...

Donna: How can you he certain? What gives you any idea that I'll be fine... you have your daughters and this castle I... I don't have anything...

Alcina: You have me sister.

Alcina placed her arm around Donna's shoulder, gently pulling her closer to her.

Alcina: I have... never been the kindest to you, there's no hiding it. But you are not alone in this Donna. You are family and you will always have my daughters and I to keep you company.

Without thinking, Donna's head gently leaned into Alcina's shoulder, a sense of safety washing over her.

Donna: Thank you Alcina... that means a great deal to hear.

Alcina: I'm glad. And as stubborn and childish as he may be, I know Heisenburg cares, no matter how little he'll show it.

Alcina stood up, causing Donna to catch herself before she fell over.

Alcina: Sadly, I have some things to attend to. I should meet with this Lobo before Cassandra finds him again like last time.

She began to walk away, but stopped and turned to give Donna a smile.

Alcina: Don't be afraid to walk the grounds, you might find something you like.

Donna watched her sister walk away, her dress catching the grass as she went; she stared down at the doll for a moment, sighing in disappointment before setting it aside and standing up.

She looked towards the watchtower and wondered how the view was from the top. As she began walking she contemplated bringing the doll with her, but the longer she looked at it she just felt angrier with herself.

As she walked away a figure peeked out from behind a wall, watching her as she went. When Donna was far enough away the figure walked towards the bench, picking up the small doll; she traced its half stitched features with her nail, almost mesmerized by it.

She tucked the doll into her dress and silently followed Donna towards the watch tower, keeping her distance as much as possible.

Boom that's Part 1, gonna slowly work on Part 2 so enjoy!

#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #re donna beneviento #donna beneviento #fic #re8 au #happy ending au #my fic

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Text

Two Faced | Chapter One

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 2.6k → click here for the next part !

Shock-waves of terror rush through your body. You can feel your heart thump erratically against your chest and your train of thought is a complete mess. All you know for sure is that your fate is certain, you're going to die. The illegitimate daughter of the Rambova family from the Negri Republic is going to be killed and it just so unfortunately happens to be you. Your eyes are coated in a fresh layer of tears and all you can do is sit there huddled in the corner of your room whilst you pray. Pray to who exactly? You're unsure of that detail.

The days of pain and neglect that you constantly endured ended with the war caused by a single man. That man who was rumored to be cruel enough to murder the child of another enemy noble in cold blood. The Duke of the Paradis Empire. Levi Ackerman. By the emperor's orders he took an army to conquer all of the rebelling, independent countries which surrounded Paradis, and unfortunately for you the Negri republic was one of them.

Soon, the Rambova family was the last of the nobles left within the nation.

"Y/N. Even a little pest like you has a role to play. You must stay back and protect the castle." that was the first and last thing your father said to you when news of the war spread. Your father threw you away and so did the rest of your household. Not even a thank you was issued when they all dashed past you towards the palace's back gates. Truth be told you were simply a child born out of convenience, born to marry another aristocrat to strengthen the family's reputation, but the war made you see your position with even more clarity.

No one ever loved you in this palace, it would be futile for you to say they did, lying would not ease the numbing ache in your heart.

"SEARCH EVERY NOOK AND CRANNY!" One of Duke Ackerman's men alerts the other soldiers and that's when you begin to shiver in pure terror. The shrill screams of the palace maids can be heard and are more than audible, they echo back and forth, settling in the shells of your ears. You really are going to die today and no one's going to save you. Who would? The servants who laughed at you because of your shameful origin? Those servants seem to be at deaths door themselves, you don't hold anything against them. Or would it be your "family" who treated you like the dirt beneath the crevices of their shoes? That "family" had ditched you and left you for dead in the palace. Duke Ackerman was a wild animal and you were a piece of bait to everyone else. No one was going to help you and this was the end of the line.

You gaze out your window and see even more of his army approach. There's not enough time for you to run, even if you attempt to do so you'll be killed in no time at all. Your mother's words echo in your mind. No one was willing to keep her around. A toy, that's what she was for your father, a play thing on the sidelines for when his real wife wasn't well. A few years after giving birth to you mother had fell gravely ill but father did nothing to help. The money needed for her treatment wouldn't have even made a dent in his riches but he did not see it fit to spend such a large sum on the likes of her. He wasn't going to help a courtesan who refused to abort what he deemed a nuisance. That's what you and your mother were - problems, issues, nuisances and inconveniences he wanted nothing to do with.

But right now all you can think about are her last words. They ring in your head and you feel your tears creep right back up. However, they subside when you take the true meaning in.

"Listen carefully, when the grim reaper comes for you, act proudly and look him in the eye without fear. You must do so for me." the one time you had seen her force a smile was then, on her death bed she had smiled so daintily it felt fake. Why did she have to act strong even in her last moments? Why did she have to try her damnedest to hide her pain and suffering from you?

Without a seconds thought you decide to follow her last instructions and what she taught you. Deciding to look death in the eyes, it's the way your mother wanted you to leave. To die proud of yourself was a privilege she never received.

Shakily, you walk towards your dresser and throw on your best dress. It isn't amazing considering the fact that your father barely invested any time in you let alone any money but you made do with it. Tying the faded baby blue ribbon that came with it around your waist you play around with the frilled sleeves. Screams are all you can hear but you swallow away your fear. Putting your hair up into a bun and pinning it back as tightly as you can, your face is in full view now, you won't be able to hide behind your hair when you're finally taken away.

With faith and hope in your heart, that is how you choose to exit. Faith that after this something better was coming. An after life with mother, one where she would be treated the way she deserved. A place where you'd be able to see her smile in sincere clarity. As you stick the last pin into your hair the door to your bedroom rumbles. It takes a matter of seconds for it to be knocked down by three soldiers.

Two of them march towards you and yank you away from where you are in front of your mirror, in the chaos a vase full of flowers shatters and hits the floor. The sound of the glass shattering and hitting the marble floor only makes the situation more intimidating.

The soldiers drag you through the hallways of the castle and the way they grip tightly onto your arms irks you slightly. They're quite literally dragging you towards the slaughter house yet they continue to handle you and the other innocent people within the palace's walls with this degree of brute force. You know you don't deserve to die, nobody here does.

At some point you're thrown to the floor of the main hall, a pain shoots up your side due to the impact of your hip hitting the floor but you soldier through it. You try to look death in the eye but it beats you to it.

Multiple bloody corpses are scattered across the floor. A heap of them are piled up in one corner and your eyes water in defense. The Palace's head chef is one of the latest additions to this pile, her guts hang out, she's been sliced open mercilessly. The contrast between her current form and her usual stern but soft face haunts you.

This was your fate, your body was going to be hauled atop of this pile of corpses. How were you to die? Would you be cut up into bite sized pieces? Would your heart be ripped out of your chest, left to bleed out until you and death would meet?

You place your hands in front of you and they land on the floor as you raggedly breathe in and out trying to calm yourself down. Mother said death was scary but you never thought death would be delivered to you in the form of cold blooded murder.

Your haphazard thoughts are suddenly put to a halt when you hear a deep, gravely voice from above your head.

"Child of the Rambova Family." He pauses and your head shoots up to see who's addressing you.

Shaking once again the tears you've been holding back spill out. You are face to face with death himself, the grim reaper in human form. Duke Ackerman. His feline eyes are devoid of any emotion and he looks down at you through his eyelashes as though you're an animal.

Looking you up and down as if you're nothing but a pest you can't help but smile at that. Everyone thought of you that way, you weren't ever good for anything right? Your thoughts make you wallow in even more sadness and you burst into an extensive crying fit in front of the Duke himself.

He murmurs something inaudible under his breath then you see him swing his leg backwards. He savagely kicks your left shoulder and you fly towards the cold hard floor."You're oh so, stupid." Shrieking, as his boot drives further into you, the lump in your throat hardens. "For not." another kick is delivered to you this time, it hits your right shoulder angularly. "Running away." a final kick lands on the left side of your face and despite his boots digging into the hollows of your cheeks you don't cry out in pain like you did the first time. That is until he swiftly holds you by the neck and firmly slams you up against one of the marble walls to perfectly punctuate his point. Letting go of you midway, you crash to the ground again, gulping and gasping for air.

His eyes. They're stone cold. You can't sense any emotion behind him. Yet he kneels down to your level his slim fingers trace the tear stains across your cheeks. The coarse but warm texture of his hand catches you off guard, you aren't accustomed to human touch and by reflex you unintentionally move slightly closer to his warm palm. He sneers at you absolutely disgusted with the way you react to his touch.

"It's a shame that you're objectively my kind of woman." His eyes snake towards the ribbon which cinches your waist in and the tension you feel increases ten fold. His gaze then meanders to your collarbone which is now crudely exposed after your one sided fight. His eyes darken "What a shame indeed." He mutters.

You begin to think that maybe the man above you has some pity left in his heart and you reach your hand out to possibly negotiate but before you can the fatal sound of him unsheathing his sword is heard.

Not even a knife can cut the tension in the air but somehow the words he shamelessly announce next manage to do just that.

"I shall give you the honor of having me personally see to your death."

Your life flashes before you eyes. He darts towards you and the cold edge of his sword is as close as it can be to your neck.

Don't close your eyes, Don't close your eyes. Look him in the eyes for the sake of mother.

Defiantly, you glare at him through the tears which mingle with the perspiration which coats your face. The tears rain down your cheeks and a droplet lands on his hand.

He flinches at the damp feeling but you see the grip he has on his handle harden.

You hadn't noticed in the previous frenzy and chaos but he's covered head to toe in blood, the ugly sight causes you to try and hold in your external reaction. But you can't fight away the tears, you clamp down on your lips so tightly that blood gradually trickles down your chin.

There were so many activities you wanted to try. You wanted to wear a beautiful dress, you wanted to fall in love, you wanted to marry, you wanted to see the world and all it had to offer. You wish as hard as you can for some sort of help some sort of release. You feel terrible because you aren't facing death in the eye. You aren't proud, you've betrayed your mother. Your blood and tears mix together and you swear you see a glint of something from the corner of your eye, but that's not the issue right now. You're about to die. This is real. This is all real.

You watch in fear as he swings his blade above his head preparing to end it all, right here, right now but suddenly a flash of white light illuminates your surroundings, you and the Duke are both momentarily blinded by it. The light morphs into an intricately beautiful symbol. Then, the clatter of his sword falling to the floor is heard. Your thoughts race, what on Earth is going on? At that moment a streak of light pierces through Duke Ackerman's chest and he groans in pain.

Pulsing from the pattern is a strange, bright light. You watch it flicker, changing colors from silver, to a misty white, then it suddenly weaves itself into a sky blue. You clench your fists, your nails digging deeper into your palms. Threads of silver then engulf both you and the Duke. You both become a part of the stunning floral designs. It's whimsical being trapped inside the kaleidoscope of colour, it's all so beautifully horrifying.

Out of nowhere both you and the Duke are flinged to the floor and the performance evaporates away. Curled up in a ball you're far too fearful to look up and see what has happened. You hear his voice again.

"My lady, please forgive me for my rudeness." The Duke murmurs his words and you can't make out whether or not he's being condescending or is genuinely apologetic.

Then he does the unthinkable, he falls down on one knee.

"And please allow me to receive the pleasure of marrying you." He sticks his hand out gracefully expecting you to hold it but you stare at him in pure horror.

"From the moment I saw you my heart was simple ensnared by your beauty." He holds onto your cheek affectionately, it feels different this time, you can feel the love practically spill out of his voice and touch but you're ultimately confused. He can't possibly love you, you're strangers. Oh, and he did try to decapitate you a few seconds ago.

His eyes are the definition of infatuation, they seem to glint with happiness even in the dimly lit hall and you have no idea what to say to this sudden confession. You don't even know where this confession has come from.

Then realization dawns on you.

It does sound impossible but it's really the only thing you can find remotely believable at this point.

Has someone perhaps cast a spell on the Duke? And is that someone, you?

You stare at his hand apprehensively and you know you've got no other choice. Even if he is joking and ridiculing you, at least you know you've tried to not fall directly into death's expectant hands.

"I...am yet to except. However, I shall give you a fair trial to court me." You awkwardly agree and place your shaky palm into this hoping he isn't fooling around. Much to your relief he isn't, you witness the man's eyes soften as he faintly kisses your knuckle.

Your surroundings are a landscape of dead bodies, you want to jerk your hand away from the monster in front of you, but your goal is survival.

Thinking about what exactly you have got yourself into, it doesn't seem to be pretty at all.

#levi ackerman #attack on titan levi #attack on titan #aot #snk #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi aot #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #levi fluff #levi angst #levi smut #the smut comes later ok ok pls don't attack me T__T #duke levi #leviiattacks

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majormaxam · 4 years

Text

won’t you bring me an angel?

Part II

Pairing: Jasper Whitlock (Hale) x Reader

Summary: You find yourself to be a victim of Maria’s growing newborn army in Southern Texas. Maria finds your ability more than special, but a weapon. What she doesn’t expect is for you to be as defiant as others and to Maria’s dismay, you just happen to grow close with Major Jasper Whitlock.

Warnings: mentions of death

Word Count: 4K

Author’s Note: Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for the next update.

A young southern maiden was to be married after her eighteenth birthday and a mother at her twenty-first, but to your mother’s dismay you weren’t one of them. In fact, you were quite the opposite. You drove your mother mad with how you rebelled against those teachings. At the age of twelve you ripped a brand new dresses while climbing a grand oak tree outside your home, also scraping your knee in the process. Your mother’s anger could not be forgotten that day, nor could you shake the anger of the day you nearly fainted while wearing a corset for the first time. She acted as if a lady was made to have her ribs crushed and smile while doing so.

The Texas heat was enough to withstand, but added layers of fabric was enough to make even the strongest buckle. You adored the night sky beaming over the southern sky at night and you often wandered out into the fields of bluebonnets to admire its beauty. Much to your mother’s pleasing approval. She couldn’t stand it, especially when finding you wore a pure cotton nightgown while strolling into the night.

She even tried scaring you by mentioning the gruesome animal attacks occurring outside the families land, but it didn’t stop you. You found freedom in the Texas night.

The soft grass under your feet was enough temptation as the scent of fresh lavender filled the air with the cool evening breeze. It was enough to make you smile as you strayed from home to dance under the stars gleaming above. These were the moments you cherished the most and how could you not when such beauty could be adored?

It was a cool April night when you first felt the cold-blooded presence nearing the edge of the woods, but you didn’t near it. You didn’t fear much, however, the sight of red eyes watching you out of the dark shadows was enough to cause your stomach to turn. You raced back into your home without looking over your shoulder or pausing to catch a breath. The next night, you locked your window by the latch and covered them with curtains in hopes of whatever was outside stayed hidden.

When hearing of the animal attacks, you simply ignored them… not imagining they would ever occur close. Until now.

You waited a full week to finally gain courage to go back outside during nightfall, but this time you were careful to wander far. Instead, you rested under the familiar oak tree as the current of air flowing was enough to make you chill as the warmth of bluebonnets kept you warm. The fear of the unknown seemed to subside with nature as the whistle of tree branches above you kept distracted, until the erie presence lurked over the land.

The horses a few yards away began to neigh and take off running across the fields, causing you to sit up and catch them. However, your human eye couldn’t see what they were running from. Until the moonlight from above casted a figure of another standing over your shoulder. You were quick to turn around and take the other by surprise, but were shocked to find it wasn’t one, but three figures.

The three females stood side by side with matching crimson eyes burning into you as their whispers were too low to overhear. You wanted to scream, but the panic rising in your throat kept you from opening your mouth. Each one of them were unbelievably beautiful as the full moon exposed each flawless feature: from their alluring smile to their perfectly curled lips. Their presence alone felt deadly as they inched closer with smiles and smirks deceiving your fate. And the moment you tried to run a bone chilling touch sent you falling to the ground with a harsh shove before the brunette stood over you.

“Lottie says you possess quite an ability…” The turn of her head gestured towards the blonde haired female standing over her shoulder, her eyes breaking with your connection. Almost as if she was ashamed of her undoings. “I do hope she’s right.”

Within seconds pain coursed throughout your body as your screams were the only vivid memories to remind you of that night. Along with the two bite marks branded along your collarbone. It seemed like an eternity as you withered in pain, begging for it to subside and death to take its course. However, no bright lights greeted you when waking from the agony. Instead, you woke with the scent of hay and dust thick in the air and when rolling onto your side, you weren’t familiar with the surroundings as you picked your head up and observed where you were.

It was a tattered barn grounds you laid in with the moonlight shuddering in between the tainted wood holding it up. Thick dirt traveled into the air as if someone walked along the grounds moments ago, but no one stood close. You pushed yourself up out of the hay to stand, but a pair of familiar crimson eyes cause you to freeze. It struck fear in you as your body responded within seconds, jolting back from where she stood and a deep growl traveling into your chest.

It seemed to humour the female as she chuckled at your attempt in protection, but watched with an observing eye. “I see we have a fighter on our hands.” She spoke as if another person was present and with a stiff hand gesture, he came into view. “Do teach her what will happen if she becomes difficult… we cannot afford to lose her, yes?”

You dug your heels into the dirt crawling further from view in hopes of avoiding her eyes, along with another unseen to you. Yet, when the female stepped away with a smirk curled into her lips you felt the shake of your legs itching to attack her. Her presence was dominant but arrogant as she disappeared into night, causing you to search with quick eyes for answers… but a deep voice hidden in the darkened corners of the barn heard your thoughts.

“Do stay calm… Maria isn’t one to restrain from angered actions.” You followed the sound of his voice to the right as he appeared from the shadows. His matching red eyes meeting yours as the light mood shine from outside exposed his handsome features and well built body. It was hard to deny him of even a glance as you were tempted to look away, but caught yourself admiring instead. His presence sent a calming wave of emotions to settle the anger and confusion racing in your thoughts. “Do you know what you are?”

The closer he grew you found yourself sinking further into the hay with comfort seeping in and riding out fear. Your bottom lip quivered as his question urged you to ask further and end up begging for more. “Your eyes bring death, do they not?” You were surprised to watch him stop in place with the insult thrown out. “I… I’ve been told stories about your kind since I was a child and yet, I never believed them.” He tilted his head with an alluring factor convincing you to speak more. “I am one too now, am I not?”

He answered with a stiff nod and kept his stance a few yards away with his eyes catching the tears welling up. You hung your head low as his silence was enough to make you scream for life. His footsteps scurried into the dirt with intention, but you jerked your head up with anger filled eyes burning into him.

“Do not come any closer.” You found him pausing once more, even lifting his hands in surrender to show he was listening to the demand. It wasn’t until you spotted the Confederate Army patch on sewn into the faded white shirt her wore on his back. “You… you’re a solider?”

He shared a glance at his own clothing and slowly raised his head once more. “Major, ma’am… I was a major.” Her features softened once he explained further and her shoulders sunk with sadness at the sight of the patch he wore with pride.

“My brother is a colonel.” You felt the bitter laugh leave your lips as he intently locked in on the mention of a fellow man. “he’s in Galveston, headed back home in the next month.” His eyes spoke with sorrow as your mind raced with excitement at reuniting with your brother.

You felt a stir of emotions course in the pit of your stomach as it dramatically switched towards a controlling moment of silence. His eyes were reading you while the tilt of his head left you understanding what he was undoing. Your emotions… he was playing off your emotions. You didn’t know how or why you understood the look in his eyes or the reason behind them, but you weren’t afraid to say it either.

“… you’re controlling me.” His eyes narrowed in disbelief as you took him by surprise with the rather extensive observation, but before he could explain you continued. “You’re controlling how I feel, are you not?”

In that moment, his control ended as the intense warmth ran down your throat to enhance the reality of your life. You tried breathing to exhaust it, but it wasn’t even close to calming the rage filled pain. Within seconds you caught scent of a desired taste wafting in the air and before you knew it, your body responded by carrying you effortlessly towards the barn door.

However, the major beat you to the entrance and blocked you from leaving the sliding doors. The sudden growl once against left your throat as he dared to hold you back causing your jaw to clench.

“You can sense other’s gifts…” His words left you raising an eyebrow as the moon danced upon his blonde curls cascading over. “It seems Lottie wasn’t lying when she sensed you were unusual.” He said it as if it was an insult and immediately you wanted to react. “Do calm yourself, newborn. Maria doesn’t take to fighters in her army.”

“I have a name… Major.” You seemed to have angered him as well as you sensed him attempting to calm himself down, but instead you found yourself craving more anger in hopes of conflict. His eyes widened as you spent those six seconds yearning for a fight, but he soon stepped away with parted lips and befuddled eyes filled with rage. His top lip snarled and nose flared as anger flared into the crimson eyes staring back at you. “…”

“She can manipulate another’s power.” Her ice-filled tone broke both of your attentions as she appeared into view with an eager eye. “She used it against you, Jasper… did she not?” Maria seemed to receive an answer through silence as Jasper stepped away from you to return to Maria’s side.

You blinked as he left your view and stood at her side, eager to please with just a simple task as his emotions rushed through you with admiration for the woman. He was quite smitten by her. It sent a questionable envy her way as her red eyes continued to study you. Jasper. His name was Jasper. Her hand was quick to rest on his shoulder, leaning in to place a kiss on his ear and whisper sweet names.

“You will certainly be useful to me, love.” Maria voice was seducing the idea of life, but her eyes revealed the omissions of her lifetime. “You must feed in order to stay strong for me.” She angered you and she feed off it. “Don’t travel too far or there will be consequences.”

Her words were enough to get you to run from the barn doors and further into the night without looking back for her seal of approval. You didn’t want it. Your legs were carrying you farther than expected as the speed of your newly reformed body kept up with the deadened heart. It felt as if you were traveling at the speed of light and you weren’t slowing down, not for a single second.

You found yourself running into the wooded area surrounding you, but the time seemed to end with the scent of hunger causing you to travel north. It left your lip snarling and jaw quivering and within seconds, you followed the hunger.

The unfamiliar town nearby was silent through nighttime, but the open tavern filled with drunks left you glancing twice inside the faded window. The humans inside falling prey to your starvation and before you knew it, a drunken man has stumbled out the back doors and fallen into your hands. You didn’t waste a single moment before you sunk your teeth into flesh. The blood on your tongue was enough to awaken the death inside you and before you knew it, he dropped dead at your feet.

Footsteps followed close over your ear, but not too far from where you stood and without wiping the blood off your lips you turned your head. There he stood, his red eyes looking over you with the temptation seeming to fall over him as well.

“… why are you following me?” You managed to whisper as the tip of your tongue licked away the blood resting at the edge of your lip. “I believed I was allowed without a watcher.” You seemed to draw out the littlest smirk on his lips before he glanced at the human by your feet.

“I’ve seen too many newborns feast without thought, I’d rather not care for another mess.” Jasper was honest as you then seemed to mourn the death of the man at your feet. He could feel you mentally processing a life you had taken and it ran your emotions high. “It’s difficult to process.”

You didn’t like his response as he attempted to send a calm wave over you, but you quickly stepped back from the human and him. “Says the Major…” It was harsh, but you weren’t refraining from lashing out at this time. “I don’t need your failed attempts of control or looking over my shoulder, please leave.” His footsteps followed, but this time he began to walk beside you as you began to feel the cravings crawl back up your throat.

Hunger seemed to be feeding off your energy, but you didn’t want to give it anything in return. It was difficult to succumb to… knowing you were killing innocent humans in order to survive. How could this be your life? You awoke to crave the scent of blood and feasted. You woke with a gift that you couldn’t understand, nor control. You woke enchanted by the Major, but found him to be someone else’s instead.

Jasper felt the pain of her hunger withering his body and he struggled to withstand it. He could hear a pulse from a mile away and he craved her itch as well. He broke his eyes away from the sights ahead and gazed upon the newborn, he was quite taken by her beauty from the moment he found her ten nights ago. He’d fallen prey to hunting that night and when he’d roamed the land to find a human girl sitting along a clearing, his bite was found. However, he couldn’t give in that night.

He instead stood near the woods edge watching as she laid in the field of wild bluebonnets, listening to her count the stars from above before whispering lullabies. Jasper was taken by her as human, but even more spellbound as vampire. It only helped to see a fire in her belly and lawless eyes… which made him fear Maria’s doings in the future.

“You’re still in hunger.” His words caused you to shiver as you were attempting to deny it by digging your nails into the palm of your hand. But he was right. You were still craving more. “As a newborn the hunger is unruly, you must obtain control over it.”

You ignored him, continuing onto path less followed as you strolled further out of the unfamiliar town. However, the thumping grew heavier in your ears as the cravings of a pulse on your tongue began to take over once more. “I’m not doing that again.” You weren’t speaking to him, but yourself.

“It will only grow worse… the aches will spread.” He was attempting to give advice, but it came off as if he knew better than you. Ultimately, he did. “If you deny this hunger, you will not be able to fight and Maria will not be happy.”

You stopped in that moment as his words mentioned Maria and turning directly to him, you spoke. “I don’t wish to be anything to her, nor will I allow myself to be anything to her.” His eyes stayed on you, while his stoic attributes kept you begging for a reaction. “I had never seen her before, until she appeared on my father’s land…” You immediately began to think of your father and mother, who had been laid asleep inside the home. And the first thought was if she harmed them. “My parents.”

You’d taken off before allowing your emotions to settle or even the cravings to swallow, but you knew you were close to family land. The scent of the fresh lavender was the scent you followed and fought for and Jasper followed behind you. He attempted to stop you, three times but you didn’t listen. It was as if he was sparring you from torturing yourself any further.

The familiar sweet grass under your feet left you gasping for answers and as you passed the gates to travel further, it hit you. It was the scent of death. You could hardly bare it, nor believe it. Jasper wasn’t fighting at this point, he couldn’t defeat your strength as he tried pulling you from the porch. You made your way into the wide open door and the sight alone was enough to destroy you.

There laid your father and mother, side by side, dead.

A cry escaped your lips as you fell to your knees with your stomach shuttering at the sight burned into your mind. You wanted to look away, but how could you? The woman who gave you life, has lost hers… the woman who begged for grandchildren, now would never see one. Your father would never lay witness to his son returning home and your brother would return to a family deceased.

You cradled your abdomen as the pain of loss was too much to bare and the tears soaked your cheeks. You began to cry out for your mother and father… begging for them to wake and let this horror be unreal. It had to be, because creatures like them were not real. Creatures as you are now weren’t real.

Jasper fought her from the moment her parents were mentioned and when running after her, he tried grabbing her by the waist to draw her back. Her strength won and she’d made it back to her homeland, but he expected to have her fall witness to parents alive and well. Which is why he fought her once more as he didn’t want her hunger to cause havoc to her loved ones, but the stench of death was thick in the air and she sensed it too. Her hand slapped him away. It wasn’t until Jasper caught sight of the dead humans inside that it clicked, Maria had killed off her family.

Her screams filled his ears as the inconsolable pain coursed through his body and he experienced the unsettling truth. Jasper’s knees were close to buckling as she fell on the porch, begging and screaming for her ‘Mamma’ and ‘Pappa’ to get up… but she was stranded. His grimaced face glanced down at the soil under his boots as the scent of dry blood mixed in causing him to shutter. It seemed Maria didn’t want the girl returning home and if she did, she’d return to nothing.

He could hardly bare the pain she cried out and when he placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping to ease her of the pain… she didn’t fight him, nor use it against him. Jasper felt her body soften under his touch as the shaking from her sobs began to wither away. Soon, her cries turned silent and she sat still with her eyes burning into the body of her dead loved ones. Jasper wanted to say sorry for Maria’s cruel actions, but his loyalty to the woman was rejecting him to do so.

The numb wounds entering your body weren’t physical, but it felt as if a sharpened dagger was puncturing your dull lungs. It seemed Maria had not only taken your life, but the life of those you loved most. Silent anger was working its way into your body as the tears began to disappear and your stomach began to twist with despair.

“…” You pushed yourself off the porch with Jasper’s hand falling from your shoulder, leaving the emotions to settle in. It took everything out of you to step into the home and passing by your mother and father’s body, daring to look away as you stepped around them. It wasn’t long before you possessed the golden locket belonging to your mother.

Jasper watched the newborn step into them home using her speed to withstand her parents dead bodies to pass them, he soon followed. His eyes running along the home and feeling the sense of warmth families possessed, but he paused before the bedroom further into the home. He could tell it belonged to the newborn, her soft pink bedding bunched together and the leather journal resting on her nightstand. He glanced down the hall to hear her making her way throughout the home and stepped further into the home.

Jasper grasped the journal with a tight hand and began to flip through the pages, immediately finding her name printed in black ink. (Y/N)… it suited her, a prepossessing name for quite a girl. He slammed the journal shut as her footsteps grew closer and placed it back down on her nightstand. She appeared in the doorway of her bedroom with her eyes burning into him, questioning as to why he entered the home.

You ran your eyes along the bedroom as you stood in the doorway, allowing you to capture the last moments of your childhood before leaving. Jasper stood beside your bed with his eyes capturing the littlest details, along with the wildflowers growing at your windowsill. The locket hanging around your neck seemed to catch his attention at the sight of the gold.

“She took my life from me.” You whispered with hatred rolling from the back of your throat. His eyes burning into you with more questions to follow. “She had no right to take my family from theirs.” He seemed to silently agree as he picked his head up and forced a stiff nod.

It was difficult to withstand as you bitterly took one last glance and exited the home, not daring to look back at your parents. You could feel the tremble of your chest shaking as you left the family land, knowing you could never return home, nor fall to help your brother’s sudden loss. Your brother no held no family to retune home too, not anymore.

You stayed silent while returning home to the barn, Jasper close on your tail as the sun began to rise over the Texas land. However, the sight of Maria left you enraged. She stood by the barn doors with the two females at her side as newborns began to scatter inside, following the demand she called out for. You didn’t restrain yourself, once her eyes landed on you… it was done.

Within seconds of standing before her, you had your hand grasping her throat as your strength overpowered hers and the others attempting to rip you off. Her eyes wide as you tested her authority before all the others surrounding you. “You spilled my families blood for your own miserable pleasure.” Her eyes gleamed as the anger began to excite her. “You immoral witch.” The insult was easing off your lips as Jasper’s attempt to calm you down only caused the anger to rise. Her eyes darted over your shoulder, searching for help from Jasper as he stood only a few feet away.

The tension between you and Maria caught attention of every vampire standing near, their eyes glance at you with questions. Each surprised to find Maria not fighting back, not even Jasper fighting for her. Maria’s smirk curled into her lips and it only flared the anger in your belly, which was enough to get you to tighten the grip on her neck.

“We needed to feed, love. They just happened to be present.” Maria’s cold tone left you with a chill running down your spine as her soul left her emotionless eyes that stared you down. “Do not fret, it gets easier once you turn off your emotions.” Her fingers stroked your cheek as the sickened words left you frozen to her touch. “Do release me before I make you regret it.”

You didn’t. Jasper’s strong hands grabbed you by the hips and forced you away from Maria, but you fought him with a simple push causing him to stumble. It seemed you were stronger than him… at least for now. You narrowed your eyes as Maria’s nod of approval left you realising you possessed no allies, nor friends. The major wasn’t a friend… he was far too infatuated by Maria’s twisted ways.

You dispersed from Maria and Jasper by entering the barn and ignoring each pair of eyes that followed. This was a life you would certainly have to become accustomed to, but not one you wished to live prolonged. The stares from the surrounding vampires were causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up as their questions and whispers were in your ear. It seemed being a vampire gave you sharper hearing.

You had yet to understood the new creature you had become, but you knew one thing… you wanted nothing more than to destroy the person who created you. You carried your eyes across the barn to find Jasper watching you, his ability noting the taste for vengeance as you had your hands wrapped around Maria’s throat. He might’ve been kind in ways, but he certainly showed where his loyalties lied.

Jasper stepped away from Maria as (Y/N) stood alone from across the barn, her eyes burning into him as he grasped her anger and resentment flashing at him. He took his stance beside the newborn and raised an eyebrow. “Do you feel better?” His question was enough to heighten her anger again.

“You tell me.” You were quick to snap at his rhetorical questions before glancing at Maria, who watched from afar as the two familiar woman stood at her side. “I don’t want your help Major… do return to your post and keep far from me because I will not follow a word you say.”

Jasper was humoured by the frisky tone of hers, but caught Maria’s desperate glance as she overheard the newborn. Maria asked him to manipulate (Y/N) and he desired to do so for his sire, but she was unlike the others from the past and he couldn’t stomach his intentions. “… If defy Maria she will-“

“She has taken everything away from me at this point…” You held your chin high not daring to break your gaze off Maria, who seemed threatened by Jasper standing near you. “I might be unaware of why I was created, but I will fight tooth and nail to make sure I understand it to end her.” You watched his eyes break way from Maria and meet your own. “Rely the message to your Master, kiss her ring for me as well.”

Jasper’s gaze was burned into the newborn as she left him with the threatening words directed towards Maria. He knew she possessed a fiery spirit, but he never expected her to fight back without hesitation at knowing Maria’s strength over others. Hell, he’d fallen prey to it… but Maria made a mistake with this young one. He saw it the moment she found the lifeless bodies of her parents and Jasper truly feared the worst. If it came down to Maria making the final call on her, he didn’t know if he could resist her ways.

#twilight fanfiction #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #twilight #Jasper Hale #Jasper Whitlock #Major Whitlock #Major Jasper Whitlock #imagine twilight #twilight imagine #the twilight saga #new moon #breaking dawn #twilight angst

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winterrisen · 3 years

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H E A D C A N O N .

Bucky has a kill count of 92 bodies for all of his time spent fighting in WWII.

Even that number is just an estimate rather than an exact count. He’s certain there are some lives he didn’t quite have time to carve into a notch on the wooden stock of his long-scope rifle, and then forgot about later on during the sleepless nights.

Some of those lives were taken in closer combat, with a Colt revolver, or an M3 submachine. Sometimes it was with a knife in Bucky’s fist as he fought desperately for his own life. But it was through the scope of his M1 Garand sniper rifle that his body count skyrocketed.

Sergeant Barnes’ role was often to protect his regiment and the Howling Commandos as they stormed the battlefield. Keeping his fellow soldiers alive meant making sure those on the other side weren’t so lucky. So he took the role and made himself an expert in it. He laid prone in his sniper’s perch, rifle tucked against him in his hands, the feel of it so familiar it was like an extension of him. Through the magnifying scope he searched every war torn field and occupied town for targets. Sometimes he laid motionless for hours at a time, starving, freezing, limbs aching and turning stiff. Waiting for the moment that soldier he knew had been scouting them would finally poke his head out from behind that wall, and Bucky would pull the trigger, and that man would be no more. On other days, when combat was active and heavy, he would pull the trigger more times than he could later count back.

The first time he killed a man, Bucky had lost his lunch. He watched through the scope as the bullet flew through the stranger’s head like it was nothing more than paper. Skull shattering, blood spattering. The wide-eyed, open-mouthed look of him as he slumped to the ground, no longer a living person. A man who would never think another thought. A man who no doubt only wanted to return home, just as Bucky did, and now never would. Bucky had dropped the rifle, crawled through the dirt on his belly away from his perch, and vomited into the grass. He went hungry for the rest of that day, as MREs were hard to come by.

“Don’t think about them,” his ranking officer had told him, “think about the people you’re protecting.” His fellow soldiers, his brothers in arms. There was a day when Bucky watched through the scope as a young U.S. soldier in his regiment, no older than 20, whom Bucky had endured bootcamp alongside, was shot and killed by an enemy soldier that Bucky’d had in his sights but hesitated to shoot. That poor kid’s death was on him. That was the moment he stopped thinking too deeply about the lives he was ending. Instead, he simply honored them with a notch on the stock of his rifle, and moved on.

Taking life after life after life means you begin to lose sight of the value of life itself. The bodies he left behind on a battlefield were no longer people who would never draw another breath, but instead were just that — bodies. It happened slowly over the years at war, little by little, but as row after row of notches were added to his rifle, Sergeant Barnes became increasingly desensitized to the deaths of those who weren’t among the people he was fighting to protect. It was never a conscious decision to lose that empathy for human suffering. But, after having stared through his scope into the eyes of a dying man whose life was being ripped away by the very bullet Bucky sent into him, and having done so more, and more, as the months went by, he simply felt less, and less.

Bucky didn’t feel like a killer. They were at war. The other side of that war was objectively, definitively the wrong side. He was protecting his own side, as well as the innocent people they all fought for. So, he wasn’t a killer.

But he killed.

And that made it all the more easy when Hydra captured him and conditioned him into what would come to be known as The Winter Soldier. He was a marksman who’d grown accustomed to taking lives without remorse for the sake of a cause he believed in. It was a ripe foundation, leaving very little left that needed to be ripped from his mind in order for the programming to take root. The perfect foundation on which could be built the perfect assassin. Only the strongest of his loyalty and empathy for the people he loved remained, and while it took a great deal of work to split his soul in half and rid him of that, it was still less work than using someone who hadn’t already murdered nearly one hundred people. The Winter Soldier program was too precious to waste resources on.

Decades later, now that Bucky has escaped Hydra, reclaimed his own mind, and attempts to live in the modern world, he still remembers how it felt to look through that old scope underneath the rim of his Army helmet, and comparatively, how it felt looking through a newer scope amid long locks of hair, the skin of his face hot beneath the mask he wore. To him, the difference between the two feels minimal.

Bucky knows he was brainwashed. He understands the role Hydra played in creating the Winter Soldier. He knows he would never have become such a thing if the choice had been his. But he also remembers vividly how numb he’d become to death in war, and can’t help feeling that whatever the Winter Soldier was, part of it had been inside him all along. He’d been conditioned to kill without mercy long before Hydra took him. This is why he carries so much guilt over the actions he carried out while obeying Hydra’s directives, and why he wants to find a way to make amends.

Bucky also feels remorse for taking lives back in the war, no matter how important the cause had been. He got to finally come home, while many others never did, made sure of by his own hand, or by another’s, who were then killed by another, who were themselves then killed by another. The war that, at the time, seemed like it could’ve ended the entire world was now over, and all the bodies have rotted away. Bucky remains, with his memories. With his sorry heart and bloodied hands.

#slaps this down #i just think about bucky in the war a lot #and how it shaped him as a person #and continues to affect him even now #┊✪┊ headcanons. ❜ ›

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shephardofthedamned · 4 years

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Mun: So, I'm a fan of the SCP Foundation, & wrote some SCP classifications for the three protagonists of Bioshock. & since this is essentially my BioShock blog, I thought why not share them here.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

SCP-123: 'One-man army '

Class: Euclid

SCP-123 is a middle aged man, of slightly above average height, with auburn hair & green eyes, & multiple scars all over his body, always wearing a worn-out, red ascot, with DNA tests showing her is of Native American descent. He has a burn scar on his right hand forming the letters A.D, although no cause for this scar is known, or what it stands for. He claims to have come from the year 1912, & his clothing reflects that belief, as well as his lack of knowledge of history pass 1912, & his supposed uncertainty with modern technologies. He also claims that his name is Booker DeWitt, & he is a private detective, opperating from his office at ◽◽◽ New York NY, although no such place has been proven to exist. 123 seems to possess great knowledge of warfare, is able to handle almost any weapon given to him, excels at hand-to-hand combat, & has the ability to summon a Murder of Crows from the palm of his left hand. Although docile, & able to be held a conversation with, 123 is prone to mood-swings, & will become erratic & angry if away from SCP-◽◽◽ (basically Elizabeth) for long periods of time. If this happens, he can often be heard screaming 'give me back my daughter,' despite there seeming to be no familial connection between 123 & ◽◽◽.

123 can regenerate any & all wounds he sustains within seconds, as long he is fed enough, eating at least four times as much as a regular human. He still feels pain, & all testing done on him to gauge how far his regenerative abilities could go, was stopped once it was deemed too inhumane. On rare occasions, if he is to be shot with a gun or hit with a metallic object, the bullet or object will be redirected as if SCP-123 had a shield surrounding him, although no such thing had ever been documented, & 123 hasn't made a mention of it.

Standard containment procedure for humanoids is to be employed. 123 is allowed access to any form of entertainment he might ask for, particularly musical instruments, & he is allowed to roam the facility he is being held at while under surveillance to ensure he doesn't destroy or attack anything out of anger or panic.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

SCP-1960 'Would you kindly'

Class: Euclid

SCP-1960 takes on the form of a four year old called Jack, who's body resembles that of a blond & brown-eyed, muscular 20 something year old, possessing inhuman strength & speed, as well as a particularly high IQ & the ability to shoot electricity from the palm of his left hand. Despite his appearance, skin tissue samples have proven that he is no more than 4 years old.

Despite his capabilities, 1960 has never been observed using them in combat or otherwise, unless he is instructed you do so by the phrase 'would you kindly.' When used, the phrase causes him to carry out the instructions with a one track mind, stopping at nothing to carry it out & acting as if hypnotised, not responding to a word or action directed at him.

SCP-1960 was found in a lab, situated underneath a lighthouse in the Atlantic ocean at ◽◽◽ coordinates. No sign of life other than him was detected, yet the lab appeared to be recently abandoned. When asked about it, 1960 does not remember the lab, claiming that he comes from a farm in ◽◽◽ USA, & that his parents are waiting for him. He also claims he was visiting some cousins in England, when his plane crashed in the Atlantic, not long before the foundation had found him.

SCP-1960 is to be held in a typical humanoid containment cell, & provided with daily activities to challenge his genius-level intellect. The trigger phrase is not to be uttered around him, & any personnel found to be breaking that rule will be removed from their position & become a Class-D.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

SCP-004 'Delta'

Class: Keter

SCP-004 is an old, rusty diving suit, suspected to be from around the 1950s, with the Greek symbol Delta Δ inscribed on the backs of it's gloves. It is fully sentient, proving to understand human speech, writing, & being able to communicate itself through a basic form of sign. The glass of the helmet has also been proven to glow different colours based on what 004 is feeling, such as green for when it is content, or red for when it is angry.

SCP-004 was found walking along the bottom of the Atlantic ocean at ◽◽◽ coordinates, not far from the lighthouse where SCP-1960 'Would you kindly' was found. Upon interrogation, 004 disclosed that it was looking for something, & that it urgently needed to find this thing, but did not say what exactly it was that it searched for.

004 is completely hollow, with there being no traces of a body ever inhabiting the suit. 004 has been proven to get violent if the suit was tried to be opened, but on rare occasions that it was managed & a Class-D was forced in, the subject recalled seeing flashes of memories of a surgery, & felt as if their organs were being grafted into the suit & their mind was being wiped & recoded to be obedient & follow a simple set of rules, which they forgot immediately after leaving the suit. On even rarer occasions, when the Class-D wasn't removed in time, 004 completely absorbed their body, leaving nothing behind.

Although not usually violent, & capable of human thought, 004 would get angry & erratic if not allowed to carry on with its search, proving to be very difficult to contain. A satellite is currently following its movements as it continues to traverse the seas.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

So, this isn't the best. My knowledge of SCP isn't very extensive, but I hope this was at least a little bit interesting.

#bioshock infinite #bioshock #bioshock 2 #booker dewitt #jack bioshock #subject delta #scp foundation #muns musings

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jdkloosterman · 3 years

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SQUAD A: Primary function--assault and destruction. Operative 07, codename ""Delilah" Previous attempts to recreate Hulk-like abilities have invariably met with disaster due to the accompanying berzerker rage. The Section 11 scientists took a different approach and instead tried to replicate the work of Dr. Samson, tying the particular super-strength of the Hulk to the length of the subject's hair. Trace genetic samples of the Red Hulk were used in experimentation on a test subject. Project deemed a partial success, though "Delilah" still has high levels of aggression and can be difficult to control, particularly if her hair length is not maintained within optimal parameters. Operative 01 has displayed a marked affinity for her, but so far experiments involving attempts at breeding have met with no success. [COMMANDER'S NOTE: "Breeding?" Are you serious with this? Damnit, those eggheads are messed up.] Operative 08, codename "Waif" "Waif" is unusual in not coming from the usual pool of test subjects, but is in fact the natural daughter of one of Section 11's lead scientists, Dr. Yamanaka. Her powers emerged at a young age uncontrollably during a traumatic car accident that killed one of her closest friends. Her powers were uncontrollable and destructive until the implant could be successfully installed. Though Dr. Yamanaka has attempted, since, to speak with his daughter, she does not seem to recognize him or anyone from her old family at all. "Waif" is one of the few operatives in Section 11 permitted to wear non-standard gear, as disruptions to her daily routine have been observed to have a negative impact on her stability. [COMMANDER'S NOTE: Guy lobotomized his own daughter. No wonder she won't talk to him.] Operative 09, codename "Samurai." "Samurai" is a clone created by Dr. Akimichi, spliced with DNA from the metahuman Blob. His armor is developed based on intense study of the metahuman Juggernaut and his armor. Though docile and responding well to direction, "Wamurai" has little initiative of his own. He also does not speak, and only communicates through "Waif." He has been observed to have a calming impact on her, hence why the two are paired together. "Samurai" also carries a series of steroids and stimulants for use in high-stress combat situations, and has received military training. [COMMANDER'S NOTE: Love this kid. Like a minature tank.] *Note: Given the volatile nature of the group, they require extensive coordination. Dr. Nara's "Deer" AI has proven useful in this task, supplemented by Shadow drones capable of observing and compiling data.** **Further Note: Dr. Nara's "Deer" AI has been flagged for review after numerous incidents displaying near-sentience, including several statements curiously similar to Dr. Nara's late son. Director Danzou has ordered an investigation into thJA)djs&(*Yhiue---------RECORD DELETED

SQUAD B--Primary Function: Infiltration and Recon Operative 03: "Gemini 1" Gemini 1 is not suited to intense combat situations unless supported by Gemini 2. Her primary skill set is stealth, infiltration, and cyberops. Similar to Gemini 2, she possesses hyper-optogrophy and can see in multiple layers of the spectrum, including infrared, ultraviolet, and x-ray. Energy blasts from the palms are able to target internal organs. Tests have also confirmed a psychic link between her and Gemini 2, wherein information and even physical pain can be conveyed between one and the other. Gemini 1 has also been observed to have a notable attraction to Operative 01, which might possibly be useful. [COMMANDER'S NOTE: Who authorized that test, and how was "physical pain" determined?] Operative 04: "Gemini 2" Gemini 2 is the twin of Gemini 1 and possesses all her abilities. He has a much higher combat aptitude, and has been noted in field operations to have a particular protective instinct involving Gemini 1. It has also been noted that Gemini 2's combat effectiveness dips noticeably when confronted with anti-citizens Kusanagi and Green Beast. Confrontations should be avoided. [COMMANDER'S NOTE: Who did we get these twins from, I wonder. Probably from one of the "clinics."] Operative 05: "Weapon K" Weapon K is the most successful emulation of the Weapon X project thus far. Though it is still difficult to maintain complete control, and the adamantium binding process was not entirely successful, still he retains the all-important healing factor acquired from Weapon X, as well as the heightened senses. Weapon K handles the majority of combat situations that Squad B encounters, though he is indiscreet and tends to leave a mess behind. [COMMANDER'S NOTE: Just something not right about this boy.] Operative 06: "Shino Entity" It has yet to be determined whether Shino Entity is, in fact, a budding psychic who was consumed by insects and gained control of them, or merely a strange collective of psychic insects under a shared delusion of once having been human. Investigation is ongoing, though attempts to isolate and inspect individual insects of the hive mind have been counter-productive, as Shino Entity has invariably become aware of the isolation and dissection of members of his hive mind. Accordingly, invasive experiments have for the moment been suspended to ensure his ongoing collaboration. His skill set is incredibly valuable and unique, however, enabling mass recon on a almost simultaneous response, and while not suited to combat, is essentially indestructible. Shino Entity requires little care save maintenance of the containment suit and a daily piece of rotten meat. This seems sufficient to have earned his cooperation, along with a curious affinity for the other members of Squad B--though it still has not been determined how he manages to speak. [COMMANDER'S NOTE: I don't really care where he came from. As long as he keeps up his work, he can call himself Shino or Lord Nelson for all I care.] LEADERSHIP TEAM Commader Kakashi: Field Commander. Last living member of the original Section 11 team, Commander Kakshi has been declared not fit for combat due to the injury suffered to his eye during the Apocalypse Incident. He now serves Section 11 in a supervisory tactical role, planning out missions to accomplish goals as set by the rest of the leadership. Though not strictly required, Commander Kakashi makes a habit of deploying with the Section 11 Operatives whenever possible, a practice which Section Chief Danzou has cited him for numerous times. [COMMANDER'S NOTE: Let the old man complain, I'm not sending kids out there without backup.] Dr. Tsunade: Head of Mutagenic Studies. Dr. Tsunade left a promising career at Tokyo University to lead the medical and study wing of Section 11. She is in charge of monitoring the operative's physical state and the nature of their mutations, as well as any new mutations that arise. Dr. Tsunade's connection to the program is more than professional, as her grandfather was closely involved in its creation, a fact which may have weighed into her decision to join. Dr. Tsunade also considers herself in charge of the operative's well-being, a matter which has also led her to clash with Section Chief Danzou. [COMMANDER'S NOTE: The lady should be in charge from everything I've seen. Though what she did to the meeting table makes me wonder if her studies have been leading to more practical applications of mutagens, recently.] Dr. Inoichi: Section Chief Danzou's successful recruitment of the famous "Ino-Shika-Cho" team may be considered one of the great accomplishments of his administration. Dr. Inoichi joined the program out of desperation to find some solution to his daughter's newly awakened powers, and his two friends followed him. A neurology specialist, Dr. Inoichi has done groundbreaking work regarding metahuman psychics and extra-natural brain structure. He devised the device which currently helps his daughter to keep her powers in check, which is currently under development for possible use against enemy psychics. [COMMANDER'S NOTE: Why does the record note this as an accomplishment of Danzou's? Inoichi joined us because of his daughter's accident, Danzou had nothing to do with it.] Dr. Shikaku: Shikaku, a renowned specialist in artificial intelligence and computer learning simulations, joined the program alongside his friend. His algorithms run much of the training programs that the operatives use, as well as much of the predictive software crucial to Section 11's smooth operation. The death of his son left him emotionally distant and he has a noted reluctance to meet with any of the operatives outside of Inoichi's daughter. Much of his work since joining Section 11 has been on his prototype ASI "Shika" and its proxy drone. [COMMANDER'S NOTE: I swear, that thing almost seems sometimes like it's actually senti303@..%$)(~~~- ERROR DATA CORRUPTION... Dr. Chouza: The final member of the Ino-Shika-Cho team, Dr. Chouza's specialty runs more in the physical arena than either of his friends, primarily involving force multipliers such as the Hulk and Blob. His "Choji" clone program has potential to create an entire army once the formula has been perfected and the laboratory repaired. [COMMANDER'S NOTE: Chouza's heart isn't in this, and that laboratory will never be fixed if he has anything to say about it.] Section Chief Danzou: Despite his near-fatal injuries from the Apocalypse Incident, Section Chief Danzou has transformed Section 11 into an elite fighting force in the wake of his predecessor. The current roster and focus of the division is entirely due to his guidance. He has a noted tendency for keeping his plans to himself and frequently overrules his leadership staff. [COMMANDER'S NOTE: There is reason to believe that the old man has an even more dark-ops organization on the side, for missions he considers too sensitive even for Section 11.]

#naruto #sakura #ino #hinata #neji #kakashi #tsunade #alternativeart #crossover #fanart #choji #shino

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sunonyoreface · 4 years

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Forest Nymph | Geralt of Rivia Pt.3

Hello!! Thank you so much for taking the time to read my fanfic! This is part three of my first series and I can’t wait to see where this series takes us!

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 2105

Thank you to @movies-music-series for letting me use their gif!

Geralt awakes with a jolt. His eyes snap open and are immediately alert. There is no such thing as a good night’s rest for a Witcher. Not for Geralt at least.

Something is watching him. He can feel it and yet, his pendant is deadly still. He rises with caution and scans the forest surrounding him. Nothing. Yet he can’t shake the feeling that he’s being watched.

Then he notices you are gone. You left without a trace sometime in the dead of night. That’s probably for the best, he thinks. And yet… Geralt can’t get his mind off of your angelic features. The delicacy in the way you walk, how your feet barely touch the ground they travel upon. His mind wanders to your touch, and the electrical current which seemed to surprise you as much as him. Despite the shock, your hands were soft and gentle. How he yearns to feel your touch again.

The sound of Roach whinnying alerts Geralt to a possible danger, to which he realizes he cannot see him anywhere. Geralt’s heart rate picks up at the thought of losing Roach; he starts running in the direction of the call. His eyes quickly scan the surrounding trees, searching for a threat he may have missed the first time. After several minutes of searching, he comes across Roach, who excitedly munches at an apple growing from a young apple tree. The tree is short and easily accessible, with smooth unscathed bark around its stump, the sort of tree that would not normally bear fruit for another five years, and yet, here it is. Clearly one of your works of art. Roach must be in love with her, he thinks.

You left as soon as the embers died and no longer gave off any light. You feel confused and left out of options as to what to do. If the Witcher chooses not to kill you, then what? The villagers hire someone who will? Your options are limited, but right now, you need to get back to your cottage, at least for a little while to think things through.

To the untrained eye, your cozy little cottage blends in with the slightly larger than normal thicket. Nothing that unusual, unless you know what to look for. You grew the walls and made them of tightly weaved stalks that keep out the rain. The trees have since continued to grow on their own to home many smaller inhabitants in their upper branches. They twist and turn in unnatural angles to allow for extensive windows that let in the warm natural light. Inside, your floors are covered in a carpet of soft moss. You almost never wear shoes inside. All of your furniture is made of natural materials. Of old trees which toppled over ready for repurposing, uniquely shaped rocks that work perfectly as benches, and anything else you might be able to forage from the bountiful area.

When you step inside a scent of familiarity wraps around you. The smell of home. It’s quiet. The usual sounds of wind, squirrels, and birds which normally fill the air fade away into the background. The silence makes you tired. Oh, how you long for a solid night’s worth of sleep. So, naturally, your feet instinctually carry you off to your soft, embracing bed. Finally, you sigh.

Geralt doesn’t know what to tell the king. Maybe he doesn’t tell him anything. After all, all the king wanted was for him to look into what was damaging their crops. He never mentioned that Geralt had to take any action against you. He has a feeling that won’t cut it. Then again, what harm could really come from telling the king about the dryad? Geralt isn’t going to kill her, and the King’s army couldn’t find her if they tried. She’s too sneaky, and they're too incompetent at everything they do. The farmers are too busy getting shitfaced at the alehouse, he doubts they can see past their own feet.

He was supposed to meet the king for lunch. It’s currently mid-afternoon. Maybe closer to late afternoon, he thinks. It’s hard to see the sun under the canopy of trees. Either way, Geralt doesn’t care. The King doesn’t matter. None of them do. He has lived through hundreds of kings and none of them stick out as important. They spend their time implementing new policies which really aren’t new, then destroying ones that their past rulers have made and so on. Nothing has changed in Geralt’s hundred or so years on this Earth. Humans operate in circles; they always have and will continue to do so until they cease to exist. Maybe that’s too pessimistic.

Villagers bustle around the center of the town in a lively matter. Why wouldn’t they? Tomorrow is their day of rest and worship; they have the whole night to commit unholy sins. Geralt wonders where Jaskier has gone off too. The alehouse probably. Or maybe he is serenading some poor wenches. What would he think of the forest nymph?

King Cassius of Asenguard lives in a castle so enormous that he has likely never been in every room. It towers over his kingdom and peers into every grimy rut he rules over. His people live in the slums while he has never truly worked a day in his life. Geralt has a special kind of hatred for this kind of man, if one would even go so far as to call him that. However, his large pocket is quite persuasive.

“Ah! Mr. Witcher, so nice of you to join us today! I was almost about to send out my cavalry to search for you.” He laughs seemingly in good humour, but the room is tense. The servants have witnessed enough of his behaviour to know that an outburst is about to happen. Geralt doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even smile. Cassius’ snarky joke only vexes him.

“My deepest apologies King Cassius, I was too busy cleaning the shit off my boots on your doorstep. Your kingdom’s full of it.” Geralt jabs back at him. The snarky smile is wiped off of Cassius’ face. He is not used to being talked back to. While he is technically in charge, the Witcher emanates power. If things become physical, the King and his guards will stand no chance, and in the back of his head, he knows that.

“That’s enough, Mr. Witcher,” He drawls. “I just want to know if you have gotten rid of whatever is pissing my farmers off, they’re very persuasive people you know. They even threatened my bread production. My God, what would we do without bread?”

“I did what you paid me to do.” He responds, the words tight in his mouth through his clenched jaw.

“What so you found the blasted demon wrecking my land, but didn’t kill it? I thought you were the Butcher of Blaviken? The White Wolf? Your job is to kill monsters. That’s what I am paying you to do.” The level of threat in the King’s voice raises exponentially.

“You asked me to find out what was causing your little problem. That’s it.” Geralt spits back. “You will pay me for my service.”

“Will I?”

“If you want to keep your head, then yes.” The Witcher’s eyes look as though they have turned to flames. The threat is real, King Cassius, as inept as he is, can sense that much.

“Fine.” He huffs in annoyance. “Then what is it I am paying for? What is the wretched thing eating away at my land?”

“A witch.” Geralt states.

“Just a witch?”

“Just a witch.” He confirms.

“You couldn’t kill just a witch?” Geralt’s hands twitch at his side. The urge to reach for his sword is overwhelming.

“Just give me my coin.”

“Fine.” he tosses a small bag filled with coins at the Witcher, “Here you go. Now unless you are hunting that witch get the hell out of my kingdom.”

“My pleasure.” But first, he has to find Jaskier.

The first place Geralt checks is the alehouse. And he is right. He’s almost scarily right when it comes to Jaskier’s whereabouts, not that they deviate much. It was the alehouse or the brothel and if he is anywhere else then something is likely wrong.

“We need to go, Jaskier.” Geralt says before he has fully approached him.

“Well hello to you too! You just got here, why don’t you have a drink?”

“No, Jaskier, we need to go.” He is fully aware of the eyes already on him. The whole village thought he was going to solve their “demon” problem and now he hasn’t. He has about five minutes before they start throwing food at him and Jaskier both.

“Just relax for once Geralt. Have a drink! Celebrate! I just finished telling Fleming over there how you are going to kill the thing wrecking their crops.” He laughs unknowingly. Fleming, a large man sitting only a few chairs over, raises his mug to cheers with Jaskier before taking a large swig of ale.

“I will explain outside but we need to go.” Geralt urges once more.

“I’ll catch up with you.”

“No, Jaskier.” He whispers, “I didn’t kill her and your friend Fleming over there is not going to like that.” The underlying threat is clear in his tone, and finally, Jaskier takes the hint.

“Oh, right then.” A look of guilt crosses his face. “Fleming, don’t you worry, I will be right back!”

They are barely out of the alehouse when a voice calls out from behind an alley.

“Aye! That’s him. That’s the Witcher!” A man standing with a group of drunks yells out. “A little birdy tells me you didn’t kill the wretched thing wrecking our crops!”

Geralt doesn’t respond.

“Well?” He takes a swig from his mug, “Why the fuck not?”

“You seem to be able to handle the situation fine on your own.” He states. With that, they go to leave, but the sound of a sword being drawn brings Geralt’s attention back to the group of men. An odd straggler, likely drunker than the rest of them, honestly thinks he stands a chance.

“Yeah? Well fuck you!” He shouts.

“Yeah!” some other men cheer him on. This isn’t good. Before Geralt can talk his way out of this, the man charges at him, sword held high, ready to fight. Left no choice, Geralt conjures the Sign of Aard and uses it to blast the overly confident drunk and his friends back. They go flying back, their limbs sprawled every which way, drinks thrown from their hands, until their hurled bodies finally make a rough impact with a ground. That should stop them, he thinks. Time to get out of this shitty village.

Once out of the village, Geralt and Jaskier continue into dusk at a slower than average pace. The evening is actually quite nice. Not too hot or cold, almost perfect. The sky is clear, and the stars will start to come out within the hour. The birds chatter to each other quietly in the background. Jaskier, while still a bit tipsy, is wound up in telling Geralt about a woman in a beautiful pink dress who was more than happy to have him stay the night in her hot, steamy bed. Something you could have seen coming from miles away.

Suddenly, a doe jumps out from the forest line, then freezes in the middle of the dirt road. She looks between them for a moment before sprinting off again, almost as if nothing happened.

“Geralt, why didn’t you get her? That would’ve been dinner for the next week!” Jaskier huffs in disappointment. While rabbits are easy to trap, he would take venison over them any day.

Two more deer jump out from the treeline, this time neither pause to look at Geralt or Jaskier, who barely notices their presence. Geralt pulls back on Roach’s reins. Roach reluctantly stops.

“Something is wrong.” He whispers to himself.

“What?” Asks Jaskier. “Geralt I can’t hear you when you mumble.”

The birds have stopped chirping. The forest is deathly silent. Something is definitely wrong. Another group of deer bound onto the road as though the two of them aren’t even there. More animals now, rabbits, foxes and larger, more unpleasant creatures sprint across the road paying them no attention.

The wind switches direction and the smell of smoke overwhelms their senses. Geralt turns around to see the far-off horizon glowing orange. Sparks explode out of a daunting wall of smoke. The Asenguard forest is burning relentlessly with no signs of stopping.

---

Thank you so much for your feedback!! I love hearing from yall

Pt.1

https://sunonyoreface.tumblr.com/post/613040114715820032/forest-nymph-geralt-of-rivia-pt-1-hi-this-is-my

Pt.2

https://sunonyoreface.tumblr.com/post/613171373679034368/forest-nymph-geralt-of-rivia-pt2

Pt.4

https://sunonyoreface.tumblr.com/post/613676968381136896/forest-nymph-geralt-of-rivia-pt4

Tag List: @nadia-rosea

#geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia imagine #the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher imagine #geralt #jaskier #jaskier imagine #forest nymph imagine #forest nymph #dryad #dryad imagine #imagine #pt3 #pt2 #pt1

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arjuna-vallabha · 4 years

Photo

GOVINDA DEV - the king of Vrindavan.

In the year 1514 , a Bengali brahmin was walking alone , leaving behind everything that he had in search of spirituality . He was the Dabir-i-khas or chief secretary to the Sultan of Bengal , Allauddin Hussien Shah . But due to his free mixing with the muslims , he was ostracized from his own caste and society , as was common in those times . Some days earlier , Shri Krishna Chaitanya had paid a visit to the village of Ramkeli , situated just outside the capital of Bengal at the city of Gauda . Thousands of people had gathered to catch his glimpse and pay their respects . Out of the thousands , the chief secretary to Sultan was also there . We do not know what transpired between them , but what we know is that the dabir-i-khas of the Sultan had such a deep change of heart that the entire meaning of life changed forever . Secretly he left home in search of the higher cause ! Dabir-i-khas became Shri Roop Goswami . His destination – the holy town of Mathura . Mahaprabhu through his spiritual insight undertood a forested wilderness near Mathura to be the lost pilgrimage of Vrindavana ! Back in those times , the fabled Vrindavana of the puranas was just a name . Nobody knew where the place was . Mahaprabhu had instructed Shri Roop – “ Go to Vrindavan and stay there . Ask Sanatan ( Roop's elder brother and the chief treasurer to sultan of Bengal , who would also become a renunciate monk later in life ) to vist me . In vraj write the scriptures that would expound the philosophy of divine love and rediscover and establish the lost places of pilgrimages . Spread the name of Krishna and the message of Bhakti . I shall visit once to see your work . “ So Roop set off with the intention to rediscover the lost site . But after reaching the forested wilderness of Vrindavan he was in a lurch ! How to search for something without any clues ? He got himself a manuscript of ‘Mathura mahatyam’ and started investigating . Alongside he led a life of exemplary renunciation and prayed to the divine to show him a way . Shastras describe the glories of Govinda as the supreme lord of Vrindavan . Agamas , nigamas and puranas sing in unison the glories of this form of lord . Varaha purana says – “One who sees the Govinda of Vrindavan does not need to go to the abode of Yama and attains punya . In Mathura Khanda of Skanda Purana , Narada says – ‘ Vrindavan is the abode of Govinda who is always served by his servitors . The king of Vrindavan resides with his beloved within the eight petalled lotus . ‘ SammohanaTantra says – ‘ I bow to Shri Radha along with Govinda of yogpeeth in center of Vrindavan . In Vrindavan Mahatmya , Mahadev answers Devi’s questions – “The groves of Vrindavan are dense with manju trees and numerous branches and creepers . This is the abode of sweet rasa and fragranced by aroma of pravala and other flowers .Within such a beautiful abode is the hallowed siddha peetha – the place of Govinda ! At the center of this yoga peetha stands a golden building . At its center is a bejeweled eight cornered golden throne on which blooms the transcendental eight petalled lotus . Govinda , the king of Vrindavan and his beloved ladies of vraj resides in the center in his beautiful vigraha form . . Roop was determined to locate that yoga peeth where Govinda resides eternally and shastras always glorify ! Even before him , Advaita Acharya , the most intimate associate of Chaitanya had come to Vrindavan and located the deity of MadanGopal atop the dwadashaditya teela hillock . Still earlier , the Guru of Advaita Acharya , Shripad Madhavendra Puri had discovered the deity of Shrinath Gopal ( now called Shrinath Ji ) near Govardhan mount . But the lord of Vrindavan , Govinda is yet to be located . It is said that after the demise of Shri Krishna , His great grandson had installed quite a few deities in vraj area . But in due course of time , all the sites had fallen into disuse and were forgotten . Roop Goswami started his penance in attempt to discover the lost sites . Finally he got the divine intervention that he was seeking . A local villager informed him that on the top of Gomaa teela hillock he sees a cow shower milk everyday on a fixed spot . Overjoyed at hearing this . Roop Goswami set off immediately with some other villagers and started digging at the aforementioned spot . Soon , Govinda manifested himself under the dirt ! The whole of Vraj was immersed in great joy and the deity was re installed in a simple hut on the Shukla Panchami tithi of Maagha month in the year 1536 . This news reached Mahaprabhu at Puri and he was overwhelmed with bhava hearing this miraculous manifestation . He immediately sent his associate , Kashishwar Pandit to take charge of the seva of Govinda . But Kashishwar was reluctant to leave the blissfull company of Mahaprabhu . Realising his pain of separation , Mahaprabhu gave him a metal deity of two armed Krishna as an extension of his own self . Kashishwar named the deity Gour Govinda and arrived at Vrindavan to help others in seva of Govinda . During those times , some other associates of Mahaprabhu were also residing in Vrindavan . Amongst the six main Goswamis was Raghunath Bhatta Goswami . His disciple built the first temple to Govinda . But presumably that temple was damaged pretty soon . At this point , Maharajah Maan Singh , the general to Mughal emperor Akbar , offered to build a new temple for Govinda . The funds for contructing this temple came from the Mughal imperial treasury ! And Akbar is said to have allowed the use of red sandstone , which was otherwise reserved for royal use . Red sandstone is the same variety that’s used to build the Red fort at Delhi , Agra fort and parts of Taj Mahal . The chief architect who designed the city of Delhi , Govinda Das , was appointed as the brain behind this project . A whooping 13 lakh rupees was spent in those days just as labour charges ! And finally after much waiting , the temple was consecrated through a lavish ceremony in the year 1590 . No temple of this size and opulence had been constructed in entire northern india , since the coming of islam till the end of british days !! Not atleast to my knowledge . Hindus of northern India back in those times had to regularly deal with external agressions and attacks on their religious places and hence had totally given up their traditional practice to erect big temples to gods . This history can easily be noticed in the art of the Govinda temple . Though the temple is huge and opulently carved , the eaternal walls are completely devoid of any representations of gods/humans or animals ! Which is very untypical of a hindu temple ! Whatever little human figures are to be found , are mainly concentrated around the main entrance door to garbhagriha , and they are not of particularly high craftsmanship . It is understandable that the artists working under Islamic regimes , being used to the Islamic tenant of not depicting human figures , had forgotten their skills in depicting anthropomorphic forms ! But that part apart , the rest of the temple is a glorious testimony to artistic excellence . Someone who has visited the earstwhile capital of akbar at Fatehpur Sikri would instantly understand the striking similarities between the two places . Krishnadas Kaviraj Goswami , a eyewitness to the opulence and poularity of the temple in its haydays leaves behind a graphic description of the same – “ Situated in the center of Vrindavan Stands a golden palace . Inside that maha yoga peeth is a bejwelled throne , over which grows an eight petalled lotus . Inside the lotus eternally resides Govinda Dev - the dispeller of lust ! He is served like a king with different items of luxury . Jewels , valuable cloth abound ! Thousands of servitors do run errands daily around the temple The richness of seva cannot be described by a thousand mouths ! “ In British era the collector of Mathura district , F.S. Growse wrote in his records – “The temple of Govinda Deva , is not only the finest of this particular series , but is the most impressive religious edifice – that hindu art , has ever produced , at least in upper India . “ It is said that emperor Akbar himself had once come to meet the goswamis of Vrindavan , which is perhaps not an exaggeration , when you think of his inclusive religious nature and also the fact that he went out of way to fund this luxurious hindu temple using mughal funds . It is probable that he was impressed with the renunciation and eruditeness of the Goswamis . It is also quite possible that he was curious to see the man who gave up his position of chief secretary and is now living under a tree out of love for god ! Maharajah Man Singh donated huge tracts of land and other riches for the maintainence of the temple . Sehnai and other instruments used to sound daily from the Naubat-khana in the temple premises . By that time , Vrindavan had become a small human settlement from forested wilderness . But sadly the will of god would have it otherwise . Govinda Dev could not stay in his new temple for long . In 1669 , the great grandson of Akbar , Badshah Aurangazeb would order a demolition of all the temples of Mathura and Vrindavan . Perhaps the growing emergence of Vrindavan as a new site for idol worshipping hindus alarmed the rigid Islamic mind set of the king . Armies marched to Mathura and destroyed the temple of Keshava deva at the site of Krishna’s Birth , replacing the site with a Shahi Idgah ( mosque ) which still stands today . But Hindus were used to such events by now . News of impending attack reached the Goswamis of Govinda temple and they secretively escorted the deities out of Vrindavan and hid them in Radhakunda , some 20 kilometers from Vrindavan . Other principle deities of Vrindavan , Shri Nath Ji , MadanGopal , Gopinath were all moved out of the area . Only Radharaman , the tiny self manifested deity , was hid inside an alcove in the inner wall of a well where he remained for many years until the fear of Mughals subsided . Banke Bihari , another important deity also did not move out of vrindavan , because back then he was enshrined in a simple hut inside nidhivan without much fanfare . So his presence was unknown to outsiders and he would not have attracted the wrath of the marauders . The gigantic temple of Govinda was desecrated and its spire broken down completely and a small idgah made hastily on the top of the roof . That structure remained into recent times untill Growse had it removed as a part of archeological restoration project and thereby restored the temple to its original identity . Today the temple is maintained by the archeological survey of India . After staying for 2 years at Radha Kunda , Govinda was brought to Kamyavan . This way , Govinda Dev continued to shift between places for the next few decades . Initially the servitor Goswamis tried their best to protect the deity from iconoclasts and as well as try keep him within the borders of 'vraj mandal' ( the expanse of territory where child krishna lived and sported his leelas ) But inspite of their efforts , the political situation continued to worsen and finally they felt compelled to shift Govinda Dev out of the vraj mandal into the safety of Rajputana . Maharajah Sawai Jai Singh , a descendant of Man singh , came to rescue and brought Govinda to his own palace and built a temple to him within his palace compounds to ensure safety . He then dedicated the entire estate as the property of Govinda and himself as a mere servitor . His seal was etched with the words – “ Shri Govindacharan – Sawai Jaisingh Sharan” Even today , Govinda dev is being worshipped royally as the presiding deity of the town of Jaipur . And even today , the descendants of Bengali Goswamis serve them . Now let us come to the topic of this painting . I have tried to depict the temple of Govinda as it would have originally stood at its prime days . A natural question that may arise is - on what proof did I base my artistic reconstructions ? Is it merely an imagination or is there any solid evidence behind it ? Only the walls of the temple stands today at Vrindavan . The top is completely demolished . But there is a line drawing preserved in Jaipur city palace which has sketches of the temples of Vrindavan as well some of the important religious sites of northern india . This was painted when the temple still stood and provides the much needed clues as to how the original structure might have looked. But I shall post a detailed post on my artistic reconstruction later in this page . Hence im restricting my words for now on this topic . On the right hand side of Govinda Dev stands Shri Roop Goswami . On the left is Kashishwar pandit with the deity that Mahaprabhu gave him personally – Gour Govinda . Gour Govinda is still worshipped in the temple at Jaipur . Right beneath him stands Maharajah Man Singh in white clothes . Opposite Man singh in blue suit is Maharajah Sawai Jai Singh who helped the cause in times of distress . These two characters are thereby immortalized in the leela of Govinda . Today , a new Govinda temple erected in late 18th century stands next to the original temple in Vrindavan . And more recently , a new set of Gour Nitai vigrahas have been installed in the original garbha griha of the desecrated temple . The mind of a bhakta feels saddened to see the empty temple today . But I want to put forward a question to all readers at this juncture . Is divine manifestation only to be found in a deity and nowhere else ?! Can the eternal yoga peetha ever be detached from the eternal presence of the lord ?! Can we not say that Govinda is as much present in Jaipur as he is in Vrindavan yogpeeth ?! Wherever Krishna resides , that verily is the vrindavan . So when Govinda moved to Jaipur , the city became the new vrindavan ! And Govinda through his continuing presence in Vrindavan changed the place into a flourishing tirtha that it is today ! The dream of Mahaprabhu was fulfilled at last ! That is precisely why , one of the greatest gaudiya mystics of 20th century , Ramdas Babaji Maharaj never went to Jaipur to see Govinda . To him , Govinda eternally resides in the yogpeeth . Krishna promises to the gopis – “Vrindaavanam parityajya paadamekam na gacchaami” – I shall not leave ever from the land of Vrindavan . The divine leela of Govinda are eternal . And that all auspicious leela has created a thread of bond that runs from Bengal in the east to Rajasthan in the west with Vraj bhumi at its heart ! Jai Govinda !

Painting and text by Halley Goswami, more at https://www.facebook.com/Halleysart

#Krishna #Radha #hindu art #vaishnavism #bengal

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softschofield · 4 years

Text

a bit of historical / military context for 1917

because it certainly added to my appreciation of the film to understand a little more of the background of a few of the lines :’) ♡

“the last time i was told the germans had gone, it didn’t end well”:

here, schofield is referring to the opening day of the somme on the 1st of july 1916, and, more specifically, the first day of the first battle of thiepval ridge.

in the week prior to the opening day, the british expeditionary force (BEF) let loose an artillery barrage on the german positions of some 1.7 million shells. the commander of the fourth army, general sir henry rawlinson, told his subordinate commanders: “nothing could exist at the conclusion of the bombardment in the area covered by it.” in short, the germans were supposed to be gone. so sure were the generals of utter success, a misguided feeling of complete calm optimism filtered down through the ranks - so much so that the infantry forces were instructed that there need be no hurry in getting across no man’s land and into the enemy trenches: there would be little to no resistance, as the germans and all their artillery and machine gun outposts would have been obliterated, and they could take it at a leisurely pace across the land that was hundreds of yards wide at some points.

of course, within just a few minutes, the opening day turned into a catastrophic disaster. the artillery barrage had hardly touched the german defences and the majority of their troops had been sheltered safe and sound in deep underground bunkers for the entire week. the barbed wire had not been cut by the shelling as the generals had hoped; the land between the british and german lines was torn up by their own artillery and muddy from days of rain; and the germans were not gone. when the british mine at the hawthorn redoubt was blown at 07:20 rather than at 07:28, when the other mines along the front line were due to be detonated to begin the offensive, the germans were given a full ten minutes warning of the british attack and could set up their defences before the infantry had even gone over the top of their trenches.

at 07:30, 2,000 officers blew their whistles all along the 12-mile stretch of front and the 65,000 soldiers of the first wave climbed out into no man’s land all at the same time and began their simultaneous advance in one, long line. when schofield climbed out of his trench, he would have started on the muddy, uphill climb towards the ruins of thiepval village, with tens upon tens of thousands of soldiers on either side of him and the men that he had gone through training with most likely among them - in relative silence at first, as the echoes of the whistles died away, but soon in roaring chaos, screaming confusion, and white-hot fear as the wire was discovered to be uncut, the germans were discovered to be very much alive, and the orderly advance fell into bewildered and terrified disarray. within seconds, it was slaughter. 65,000 soldiers died on that first day alone and over four million would become casualties in the following four months, making it one of the bloodiest battles in human history.

all because, despite cheerful promises, prideful boasting, and empathetic assurances to the contrary, the germans were not gone.

“lieutenant leslie has command”:

it really does need saying just what a vast degree of difference there is between a major being in command, as had been the case before leslie was forced to take over, and a lieutenant. the section of the yorks that were holding the front line was most likely a company, around 150 soldiers at full strength. a company was commanded by a major, with a captain as second-in-command, while a lieutenant was the second lowest ranking commissioned officer in the BEF, just above a second lieutenant.

to put into perspective what a lieutenant’s role usually comprised, they were in command of one platoon each - around 50 soldiers - with a sergeant as their second-in-command, corporals in command of each of the three or four sections within the platoons, and lance corporals in command of the fire teams. platoons would have a small headquarters, and command of one was usually a newly commissioned officer’s first posting before they moved on to bigger and better things. it is therefore staggering, and truly upsetting in the context, that a lieutenant was put in a position where he was forced to take over in the place of a major, a full two ranks above him - and even more so that he was clearly left as the highest ranking officer in the company.

no wonder he was so overwhelmed - he was a relatively junior officer, already traumatised by war and most likely by losing all the men he may have been close to only two days ago, who had suddenly been handed the lives and wellbeing of a hundred men and told to care for and lead them. the burden of such sudden responsibility, of not being able to do or be enough for them, would have been too much to cope with for most anyone, and it’s little wonder he turned to alcohol to numb the fear and, perhaps, the insecurity.

“the germans are gone” / “i think they wanted to bury us”:

from february through to the 5th of april 1917 - 1 day before the beginning of the film - the german army initiated operation alberich and retreated back to a newly formed defensive position known as the siegfried position, or the hindenburg line to the BEF. it was built to shorten their stretch of held land by 30 miles and replace the former front line, which had been increasingly manned by insufficient numbers of physically and psychologically drained soldiers and which could no longer be held: their fighting force on the western front had been depleted and exhausted by the battle of the somme in 1916, the success of their offensives on the eastern front had forced them to stretch their resources across an even larger stretch of land, and the entrance of romania into the war had added even further strain.

by wasting the land between their old trench systems and their new line, they hoped to delay an expected spring offensive by the british and french forces. to achieve this, they completely desolated the landscape, turning it into a bleak and devastated wasteland that would severely try the logistics and resources of the anglo-french advance, and render it unusable, uninhabitable, and often dangerous to even cross: they systematically destroyed bridges, buildings, roads, forests, and wells; booby-trapped buildings and objects that they thought might tempt a british soldier to pick up, such as trophy helmets, souvenirs, and food; and left the remains of barbed wire entanglements, deep shell holes and old trenches full of water, and unexploded artillery shells in the former battlefields.

“the sap trench was blown to hell weeks ago”:

sap trenches were temporary, shallow tunnels dug under no man’s land and towards enemy lines so close to the surface that when an offensive was launched, the attackers could collapse the tunnel roof, advance troops into a trench that was now far closer to the defenders than the latter were anticipating and way beyond the front line that now lay behind them, and go over the top with a much shorter distance to cover before they reached the enemy trenches.

had they been better and more extensively used during the battle of the somme, they might have made all the difference to the soldiers who had to advance across no man’s land in full view of the germans watching from up above on the high ground.

“at least wear your medal”:

it’s possible schofield was awarded a medal for gallantry at the somme - perhaps for having reached the village of thiepval itself, as a few advancing BEF troops were seen to have done (and which then ultimately resulted in even more carnage, as the no doubt terrified and bewildered soldiers entering the village and finding themselves alone and without the rest of their battalion inadvertently prompted the british artillery to direct fire away from the german defences in the village, thus leaving the troops still trapped down below open to even worse targeted machine gun fire) when most scarcely made it out of the trenches - but it’s perhaps more likely that he was simply awarded a medal for having participated in the battle.

bonus bit, because it breaks my heart:

it’s entirely possible that, with the air of optimism in the BEF prior to the first day of the somme, schofield, perhaps a fairly fresh recruit, was daring to feel hopeful. that he was smiling and laughing and believing that maybe it would actually work - maybe it would all be okay. and that, afterwards, he was left with his spirit destroyed. if schofield was a different person before the war - if he was happier, if he smiled more, if he softly but passionately loved books and poetry and flowers - then thiepval took it all away and turned him into the quiet, hollow-eyed man we know.

(and, to just copy-paste my own tags on an earlier post about the fact that he’s seemingly stagnated at lance corporal after so many months because it somewhat ties in:

have they tried to promote scho and he said no? has he just sunk into his silence and become almost invisible and forgotten? has he done something wrong and they won't promote him because of it? bad behaviour? did he go mad after thiepval and do that thing some soldiers in the trenches did where they just try to go over the top and get themselves killed? and they've been watching him distrustfully ever since in case he has another outburst? did he used to be a higher rank and they demoted him because of shellshock or a lapse in ability because he just went silent after his trauma? did he ask to be demoted? has he really just stagnated at lance corporal? there's so much DEPTH there.

like i feel like someone can only be that... quiet and Given Up and distant if they’ve absolutely lost it at one point and then just accepted that there’s nothing they can do and crumpled into learned helplessness by the time we meet them. that’s my headcanon now: he lost it and was just unhinged and raging and screaming against the injustice of all his friends dying, and he was given an official warning and maybe demoted and eventually just faded into a silent nothing when he realised no one cared and no one would do anything and nothing would change. and now he’s been left with that incredible capacity for leadership, with all those skills, with all that caring, and nowhere for it to go)

#im here im queer im BACK FOR MORE BABEEEY #1917 #mine #honestly that thing about leslie makes me so SAD #leslie does care!!!! he cares so much!!!!! he loves kilgour!!! he's just AFRAID AND DOESN'T BELIEVE IN HIMSELF #DOESN'T THINK HE #'S CAPABLE OF LEADING THEM #I LOVE HIM

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firelxdykatara · 4 years

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Literally what? It makes perfect sense for Sozin to outlaw homosexuality. He wanted a war. He needed an army. He heralded the fire nation as the master race. That’s textbook “homosexuality is bad because we need to do whatever we can to make as many perfect fire nation babies as we can.” The fire nation as a whole, sure, doesn’t make much sense. Sozin specifically, abso-fucking-lutely he’d be the supremacist straights only because reproduction vital guy.

It only ‘makes perfect sense’ if you ascribe to the very childish system of morality that spawned it: well, he’s definitely evil. @araeph explained it quite well in this post, which I’m assuming you didn’t read, despite the fact that I linked it in the comment to which you are referring. I’ll quote the relevant bits, though:

The easiest, cheapest way to discuss morality in media is to gather all of the “evil” traits on one side of a conflict, all of the “good” traits on the other, and then assign people “good” or “evil” status while not allowing any overlap. We can give a bit of a pass to children’s cartoons (although they, too, have become more complex in recent years) because children are still in the earliest stages of learning right from wrong. But Legend of Korra is intended for an older audience than A:TLA, while being infinitely more childish in its morality.

Also below, an excerpt from a post defending Bryke’s portrayal of LGBT issues:

and there is Sozin banning same sex relationship which again doesn’t contradict the source material, and Sozin being evil isn’t anything new,

Here is the premise both these arguments are working from: that because person A believes in wrong idea B, that that person must also believe in wrong idea C, D, and E, all the way down the alphabet. Because they’re Definitely Evil. But that’s not the way it works at all, and Sozin himself is a prime example.

People with discriminatory beliefs always have a system for them, a rationale that they use to justify their worldviews and fit them into a larger belief structure. There is a method to the madness; if there weren’t, hatred would be much easier to conquer because dismantling it wouldn’t require undermining other deeply held beliefs, with which it’s often intertwined. Sozin’s madness was an extension and expansion of his idea that the Fire Nation is superior to all other nations, and that he alone is the guardian of that superiority. Every evil action he takes stems from those premises:

Colonizing the Earth Kingdom. In Sozin’s mind, the Fire Nation experiencing an unprecedented era of peace and prosperity equaled a mandate to restructure all other nations so that they would be as “great” as the Fire Nation.

Challenging Avatar Roku in the palace. In “The Avatar and the Firelord,” Sozin flatly states that Roku’s allegiance should be to Sozin first, and everyone else second. After all, if the Fire Nation is the greatest country in the world, anything that might challenge that belief—such as the equality and balance between four nations—is a threat and must be eradicated. In a similar vein:

Leaving Avatar Roku to die after helping him fight the volcano. The volcano was a threat to Sozin’s homeland, and so when Sozin and Roku battled it together, they were working as two Fire Nation citizens. However, as soon as Roku’s premature demise left an opening to begin Sozin’s conquest, the Firelord couldn’t see past his own vision of a perfect world, in which he and his country dominated everything.

Hunting the dragons. Sozin’s aggressive world conquest required that the general philosophy behind firebending be changed and all traces of the old ways be extinguished. Humans could be bought or frightened into suppressing the “fire is life” belief, but that wouldn’t work on the dragons. Thus, in his mind it became necessary to wipe out all traces of the dragons, and therefore, the true meaning of fire.

There is nothing in Sozin’s worldview that suggests he would invent, from whole-cloth, without it existing before in his nation, institutionalized homophobia--not unless you subscribe to the ‘well, he’s definitely evil’ mode of thought, which LoK does, but which AtLA approached with considerably more nuance:

Toph: It’s like these people are born bad. Aang: No, that’s wrong. I don’t think that was the point of what Roku showed me at all. Sokka: Then what was the point? Aang: Roku was just as much Fire Nation as Sozin was, right? If anything, their story proves anyone’s capable of great good and great evil.

And, at the end of the day, it all comes back to my personal problem with that entire storyline (nevermind the fact that Korra had nothing to say about Sozin except a petulant ‘that guy was the worst’, as if this was new information and she didn’t already know that he had orchestrated the Air Nomad genocide): the fact that it was completely unnecessary.

This was a fantasy world, and while inspired by many real world cultures, it was not beholden to real world history the way historical fiction would be. There was no need to inject institutionalized homophobia where there was no hint of its existence before in the entire franchise. Evidently, it was too much to ask that this one fantasy world exist where people like me were never persecuted for their sexuality. And it absolutely does not sit right with me that a couple of straight men shoved that ham-fistedly into the story they were telling with their newly revealed bisexual lead.

And it doesn’t even make sense that the Fire Nation--the nation with women in the armed forces, and a distinct lack of evident misogyny, particularly when contrasted with the anvils dropping all over the place in the Northern Water Tribe--was the one with homophobic attitudes (and not just attitudes, but actively pulling people from their homes for the crime of Being Gay), and not, say, the Water Tribes:

But you know where homophobia would most likely gain traction? In the Water Tribes. Sexism and homophobia often go hand in hand, and in a culture where men reign supreme and gender roles are fixed, it would make sense for Korra and Asami’s romance to be a threat to the perceived natural order. But you see, the Water Tribe are the “good guys”, so they can’t be discriminatory, right?

#atla #atla comics critical #anyway no it absolutely does not make sense for sozin to have created institutionalized homophobia out of thin air #especially not considering his on-screen relationship with roku #thank you and good day #Anonymous #asked

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