![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
charamei.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
twispiteficTitle: In Which Christian Grey Is Not Special Enough To Be A Threat To The Multiverse
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
charamei
Fandoms: Fifty Shades of Grey/homebrew (Evanya)
Wordcount: 660
Inspiration: This chapter of Fifty Shades, in which Christian tries to excuse his... well, his personality by telling Ana he was abused as a teenager.
Summary: Christian might be giving Irien the willies, but some evil is all too mundane.
"I didn’t want to. She was all I wanted, needed. And besides, she’d have beaten the shit out of me." He smiles fondly at the memory.
There's a moment of dead silence, and then Ana changes. In an instant she is middle-aged, chestnut-haired and several inches taller – or maybe it's just that she sits bolt upright in her chair, her gaze fixed in fury on Christian's astonished face. All around them, the restaurant patrons continue their meals as though nothing is happening.
"Anastasia?!"
"No." The woman takes a sip of Ana's wine, then looks at it in disgust and puts it down again. "My daughter's looking after her; she's perfectly safe. Although given your history, I doubt you care."
Christian's mouth has snapped shut while she speaks; he takes a deep breath and asks, his voice carefully controlled, "And who the hell are you?"
"Oh, good question. I used to spend a lot of time asking myself that." She folds her hands in front of her on the table; her knuckles are white. "In this context, Mr Grey, I am the King's Shadow, and I am here to arrest you. But let's just talk about abuse first, shall we?"
Christian plunges a hand into his jacket pocket. It comes out empty; he begins to pat himself down with exaggerated calm.
The Shadow lays his phone on the table in front of her. "When I was thirteen, Mr Grey, my mother lured my governess into the wilderness and made me kill her."
Christian stares at her, taking that news in. "Madam, you said you were here to arrest me. In that case I demand you allow me to call my lawyer."
"I will, Mr Grey, in due time. I'm only talking. There are plenty of witnesses here; I'm not going to harm you. That's the difference between us, you see. I murdered because I was made to. You, on the other hand, abuse because you want to." The woman leans forwards, so close that he can smell the residue of their jasmine bath. "I played a perfect patsy for you, and you took advantage of me in more ways than I can count. You are a sick, sick individual, Christian Grey, and that has very little to do with your past and everything to do with your character." She lets the words hang in the air, then adds offhandedly, "You're also not very good in bed."
Christian ignores that jibe. "Lawyer. Now."
"Oh, all right." She stands: Christian follows her. "Christian Grey, in the names of King Perenvel of Evanya and of the Creator of All Things I hereby arrest you on suspicion of molestation, sexual harrassment, torture and being an abomination from beyond the bounds of the natural order of the multiverse. You will accompany me to the Creator's Palace and, yes, so will your lawyer. If you are found innocent of being an abomination you will be returned to your rightful time and place to stand trial."
Before Christian can take that in, much less object, there's a flash of white light, so bright that it excluded all else from his vision: he staggers backwards, and finds that the ground has turned soft under his feet.
He's in a perfect, featureless white void, populated only by himself and that... woman. And, suddenly, a short creature that can best be described as an anthropomorphic dog.
It peers at Christian, walks all around him, and then pinches his hand very gently in its soft paw. "Hmm."
"Oh, don't tell me he's not," the woman says.
"Well, I can see where you were mistaken. He does smell iffy, doesn't he?" The creature punctuates this with an enormous sniff.
"But he's not?"
"No. Just your normal human evil. A monster, but not an abomination. I'll send him to jail in his own universe."
"Oh, well," she says, and Christian thinks she sounds a little put out. "At least we got the lawyer."
Author:
charameiFandoms: Fifty Shades of Grey/homebrew (Evanya)
Wordcount: 660
Inspiration: This chapter of Fifty Shades, in which Christian tries to excuse his... well, his personality by telling Ana he was abused as a teenager.
Summary: Christian might be giving Irien the willies, but some evil is all too mundane.
"I didn’t want to. She was all I wanted, needed. And besides, she’d have beaten the shit out of me." He smiles fondly at the memory.
There's a moment of dead silence, and then Ana changes. In an instant she is middle-aged, chestnut-haired and several inches taller – or maybe it's just that she sits bolt upright in her chair, her gaze fixed in fury on Christian's astonished face. All around them, the restaurant patrons continue their meals as though nothing is happening.
"Anastasia?!"
"No." The woman takes a sip of Ana's wine, then looks at it in disgust and puts it down again. "My daughter's looking after her; she's perfectly safe. Although given your history, I doubt you care."
Christian's mouth has snapped shut while she speaks; he takes a deep breath and asks, his voice carefully controlled, "And who the hell are you?"
"Oh, good question. I used to spend a lot of time asking myself that." She folds her hands in front of her on the table; her knuckles are white. "In this context, Mr Grey, I am the King's Shadow, and I am here to arrest you. But let's just talk about abuse first, shall we?"
Christian plunges a hand into his jacket pocket. It comes out empty; he begins to pat himself down with exaggerated calm.
The Shadow lays his phone on the table in front of her. "When I was thirteen, Mr Grey, my mother lured my governess into the wilderness and made me kill her."
Christian stares at her, taking that news in. "Madam, you said you were here to arrest me. In that case I demand you allow me to call my lawyer."
"I will, Mr Grey, in due time. I'm only talking. There are plenty of witnesses here; I'm not going to harm you. That's the difference between us, you see. I murdered because I was made to. You, on the other hand, abuse because you want to." The woman leans forwards, so close that he can smell the residue of their jasmine bath. "I played a perfect patsy for you, and you took advantage of me in more ways than I can count. You are a sick, sick individual, Christian Grey, and that has very little to do with your past and everything to do with your character." She lets the words hang in the air, then adds offhandedly, "You're also not very good in bed."
Christian ignores that jibe. "Lawyer. Now."
"Oh, all right." She stands: Christian follows her. "Christian Grey, in the names of King Perenvel of Evanya and of the Creator of All Things I hereby arrest you on suspicion of molestation, sexual harrassment, torture and being an abomination from beyond the bounds of the natural order of the multiverse. You will accompany me to the Creator's Palace and, yes, so will your lawyer. If you are found innocent of being an abomination you will be returned to your rightful time and place to stand trial."
Before Christian can take that in, much less object, there's a flash of white light, so bright that it excluded all else from his vision: he staggers backwards, and finds that the ground has turned soft under his feet.
He's in a perfect, featureless white void, populated only by himself and that... woman. And, suddenly, a short creature that can best be described as an anthropomorphic dog.
It peers at Christian, walks all around him, and then pinches his hand very gently in its soft paw. "Hmm."
"Oh, don't tell me he's not," the woman says.
"Well, I can see where you were mistaken. He does smell iffy, doesn't he?" The creature punctuates this with an enormous sniff.
"But he's not?"
"No. Just your normal human evil. A monster, but not an abomination. I'll send him to jail in his own universe."
"Oh, well," she says, and Christian thinks she sounds a little put out. "At least we got the lawyer."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-08-27 06:19 am (UTC)I mean, I wouldn't say the Gaston is a complete abomination to the universe, but he's still pretty bad and should go to jail.