I have the entire plot of "The Secret of Castle Pirkstein" already planned out, and I also already have a music playlist fully created for it. Question is, should I drop the playlist only once the fanfic is finished at the end or should I do it like I did it with "Tell Me About Today" and use the playlist as a little teaser/optional place for people to go and theorise how the story might go?
Kingdom Come: Deliverance | Hans Capon/Henry of Skalitz | E | tags: omega verse, omega hans capon, alpha henry of skalitz, omegas are called nymphs, alphas are called satyrs
Chapter Summary:
During Hanush's lecture, Hans loses it and things end up being said that cannot be taken back.
Chapter 8: Matricide
Lately, throughout the last couple of days, if not weeks, Hans kept having the same two returning dreams.
They were dreams which usually filled him with as much dread as they did with anticipation whenever he laid down in bed and closed his eyes. And he was rather unsure which one of those two dreams felt more fantastical to him than the other.
The first dream – if he really had to distinguish them by numbering them – was the one which Hans had in fact had many a time before when he was a few years younger: It was a dream of himself as a greying adult, standing next to both of his parents as he remembered them from when he was a child.
He usually saw them smiling all happily in the dream, saw them greeting and taking him into their open arms with both pride and joy, before they usually turned towards a strange young boy who’d come into view by his side. A boy who usually looked a little different in each version of the dream, but a boy who his parents would open their arms for just as widely.
And somehow deep down, each time, right before Hans would wake up, it was as though he could always tell that that young boy was his own son – a son who had come from a far and distant future. A future that looked bright and happy and filled with warmth.
That first recurring dream of his was just as much of a happy dream as it was a sad one, however. Terribly so.
It was happy because, while immersed in it, Hans always felt rather warm and hopeful of what was to come in his future. Light. And yet, it was naturally also a sad dream, because once he would eventually be taken out of it, Hans could never help but cry. That was, for a future life and a son that was utterly unreachable and lost forever.
Perhaps it would be surprising to hear that, despite what his latest adventures with medicines and poisons may have suggested, Hans did in fact think that he would rather enjoy becoming a father one day. Because in the end, what sort of nobleman didn’t enjoy the thought of continuing his mighty dynasty with a strong and fit heir?
If Hans were given a normal and moral life, unlike the one he was stuck with, then he might have even considered having a child in the next couple of years ahead. However, that was of course only if Hans had enough luck and charm to have fallen in love and be happily wed to a suitable noblewoman by then in the first place.
Hans wasn’t a badly looking fellow per se, after all. He shouldn’t have had that much of a problem with the ladyfolk. And in fact, he didn’t; the ladies quite fancied him. But alas, as he was now, stuck in the life of a sinner, the most he was given instead were nightly visions and whispers of such a family, as well as… the other recurring dream which seemed to have come in tandem with his foretold future family: and that was the fairly recent dream of him and his squire, Henry, usually locked in an eternal carnal dance of the flesh. Or to put it in more precise terms – he kept dreaming of the two having sex almost every second night.
And, oh, how Hans despised his mind for tormenting him with such vulgar dreams.
For more times than he would ever admit, even under arduous torture, Hans had made himself spill with his cock in hand, thinking about those wicked dreams, and had hated his very own flesh afterwards every single time he did it, since Hans naturally was well aware how utterly shameful and degrading such fantasies and actions were.
And as for what Hans thought of himself for it? Well… Perhaps it wouldn’t be too far from what his uncle, Hanush, had thought of him.
Hans was a walking disgrace dressed as a nobleman; that’s what he was. A foul creature of the night. A lazy and drunken layabout. A bloody sodomite.
Someone who was destined to burn in Hell by no other fault but his own, and yet, he was also someone who still had the gall to ask God: Why?
Why must you curse me so, my Lord? What did you do it for?
it's always super nice whenever i get comments like "i'm usually not really into time-loops/omega-verse/mpreg/etc. in my stories but i really like the way you wrote this!" because it really does make me feel a sense of pride for being able to make something seem interesting to someone who usually does not have much interest in that certain trope or plot device. because really, a story is only as good as you write it in the end, no matter what.
but at the same time, in the back of my head, i go: "omg... all of my bigger fanfics i'm writing/wrote and that i deeply care about include such niche interests and tropes…" so i kinda feel like yelling "i know it's not everyone's cup of tea but omg i swear it's good, please, don't go, give them a try PLEASE!" like 24/7 XD
You can help us out by telling us what you would like to see & be a part of by filling out our Interest Check here: https://forms.gle/ekwukt3qKzQJ5zDT9
not every mutual fits neatly into an archetypal medievalism but there are some mutuals that im like yeah addressing you as “my liege” would come strangely naturally
Kingdom Come: Deliverance | Hans Capon/Henry of Skalitz | E | tags: omega verse, omega hans capon, alpha henry of skalitz, omegas are called nymphs, alphas are called satyrs
Chapter Summary:
After their more than eventful time in Rattay's bathhouse, Hans made sure Henry was dressed well enough for whatever next lecture his uncle had prepared for him.
Chapter 7: Clothes Make The Man
Hans may have remembered what happened the other night, but merely chose not to speak a word of it…
That was less of a wish and more a fear, really; a fear which kept on plaguing Henry’s mind and became harder to ignore the longer he kept on aimlessly rummaging through the chest for those so-called ‘proper clothes’ Hans so desperately wanted him to try on. And to anyone watching him right now, it must have come across as if Henry had completely forgotten what clothes even looked like, the way he was struggling with this one simple task given to him.
But luckily for him, not even Hans seemed to pay him much attention.
Perhaps what made this whole ordeal more untoward to boot, however, was the fact that the clothes he was told to grab were entirely located within a chest that supposedly contained nothing but those blasted clothes. But to Henry, it seemed rather the opposite – as if that damned chest contained nothing but his worst fears and nightmares instead.
Kurva, why do I have to bloody deal with this right now?!
Henry might have been quite visible with his frustration at this point, but apparently, according to Hans’ tastes, Henry was in such terrible need of these new clothes that he had to get changed, since he was supposed to have an audience with Lord Hanush, after all. But for what reasons they had been summoned? Neither of them really knew.
Hans simply guessed that it probably was to be another one of his uncle’s many lectures, so in turn, the young lord naturally thought to drag his squire right into it as well. Lucky him…
I don’t want you making me look bad in front of Hanush. So go and get dressed up before we head off.
Hans had said those words in jest and with rather the teasing smirk upon his lips, as Hans so often did whenever he spoke to his dear squire. But when Henry thought about it a little longer, he only realised that Hans had essentially commanded him to look decent for once, which implied that Henry’s old clothes obviously weren’t quite enough to do the trick anymore with all the cheek in the world, which was as much of a pity as much as Henry found it rather insulting. Which was all the more reason for Hans to find it all the more amusing in turn.
However, the real kicker likely was the fact that, were it not for Henry’s memories of the previous night still looming over his mind like a darkened cloud, Henry might have already been done changing into his new clothes as happily and hastily as any mutt would be joyous to jump and joust about a new toy from his master. But as it turned out, the contents of Hans’ chest stayed rather a blur in his eyes, akin to what letters on a piece of parchment, or in a rather lengthy book, had often become whenever he tried to further his latest lessons in literacy; Henry was nearly blind in his search of those bloody clothes. Like a mole.
That was to say: His mind was far too gone and off somewhere else, too distracted pondering about whatever might’ve truly gone on inside his lordship’s head.
Because Henry was genuinely worried; he really was.
When it came to his own memories, they were far too clear and undeniable for him to put aside, since he for once wasn’t the fool who’d been terribly drunk that night. And in fact, his memories of that night were so fresh to him, so vivid to his own body still, it felt as though Hans had been all upon his body merely a few moments ago.
"what if they fucked" WRONG. what if they ruined each other's lives irreparably. what if there was nothing left but a smoldering heap. what if everything that brought them together twisted and corroded and ripped them apart. and then they fucked.
The Fallen Angel (El ángel caído), (Detail), (2007), by Arantzazu Martinez (Spanish, born 1977), oil on linen, 114.3 x 73.7 cm (45 x 29 inches), European Museum of Modern Art (MEAM), Barcelona