#also since people mentioned a lack of lady knights nothing is stopping the ones in armor from being lesbians be creative

[ultravioletness]

gay knights and dames collages part two

#gay knights #knightcore #knight x knight #arthurian legend #medievalcore #john william waterhouse #edmund blair leighton #lesbian dames #pre raphaelite #decidedly less so this time around #uuh what tags did I use last time #the other post really blew up this will be its less successful cousin #although there are some real gems in here not to brag lmao #anyways I was feeling so many knight feelings that I started historical fencing #again I did this on my tiny phone at work so be nice i know they’re wonky #the hardest part is finding head rotations that actually work #also since people mentioned a lack of lady knights nothing is stopping the ones in armor from being lesbians be creative

[depressedhatakekakashi]

The u know whos have been harassing me all day can i please request some more HC for both your knight and skill reversal AUs regarding how kakagai reationship grows to forget about them? Thank you mun 🤍

Why are they harrassing you? Who do I have to fight? i will fight them all omg. LEAVE THIS POOR PERSON ALONE YOU JERKS.

Royalty Au

Kakashi and Gai have known each other since childhood. It’s an outcome of Kakashi’s father, Sakumo, being the royal guard to King Dai. That plus Sakumo being an only father since his wife's death, and he finds himself having to have Kakashi by his side a lot growing up. He could get someone to take care of his son, but Kakashi keeps running them into the ground and scaring them off.

Thankfully, the king is very understanding and loves that his son has someone else to play with.  Most people who interact with Gai treat him like a porceline. Like they have to be super careful around him or he might shatter. Kakashi doesn’t do that. He respects Gai of course. Calls him ‘your highness’ and always bows when they greet each other or say goodbye, but otherwise, he considers Gai his friend. They run around the garden together, learn together, play together. Everything that Gai does, Kakashi does with him. Sometimes Kakashi will even be able to help Gai with his learning, being a quick learner himself who can explain things better for Gai than his tutor.

As they grow up, they continue to hang out. Even when Kakashi starts to train under Lady Kushina as a page at the age of 7, Kakashi will often use his time off from training to spend with Gai.

Gai is the first person Kakashi ever tells of his dream to become a great knight. Not just like his father, but even better. He wants to prove that he’s talented and smart and that he can protect the Kingdom and the Prince from anything and anyone. Gai feels a little sad that day, even though he loves the excitement in Kakashi’s voice when he hears about his dream. But knowing that Kakashi is going to put himself into a job that could get him killed young, all to try to prove himself. that hurts Gai’s heart.

When Kakashi is promoted to Squire at the age of 11, it’s a huge celebration. People are amazed by this kid's progress. the standard age for becoming a squire is 15, and Kakashi’s already well on his way to becoming the youngest knight in history. Even with his extra duties though, he makes sure to always visit Gai in the garden at least twice a week. They still have race’s around the place, and sometimes Kakashi will show Gai how to sword fight. Gai does get lessons from a tutor of course, but he finds that he learns easier from Kakashi. Kakashi just has a way of talking to him that helps him understand quicker. Plus Kakashi always lets him make things into a competition, which helps a lot with getting him pumped and ready to learn. 

When Kakashi is knighted at the age of 16, Gai’s not sure how to feel. He’s excited for his old friend of course. This was part of Kakashi’s dream. He’s already making a name for himself separate from his father. But at the same time, Gai’s terrified that this means he won’t have any time with Kakashi anymore. Kakashi will be too busy to visit him, and he’ll be alone with no one to hang out with but the people who treat him like porcelain.

Of course, Dai won’t have that. Kakashi is immediately made Gai’s royal guard. Partially to keep him out of the field where he might find nothing but a young death, and partially to keep Kakashi and Gai close. He knows how important the two are to each other already, and he refuses to be the one to tear them away from each other.

When it comes to marriage at the age of 20, Gai is not excited. He can’t think of anyone he wants to marry, and he always finds problems with the people that he is presented with. Genma is too pessemistic, Obito is too... well, Obito. Him and Kisame just want to rip each others throats out most of the time, and while he gets along fine with Rin the two of them both agree they’d prefer to be friends.

It’s not until someone mentions to Kakashi that he should also be looking to settle down that Gai realizes why he can’t choose a marriage partner.

He doesn’t want anyone else. He wants to be with Kakashi. To have Kakashi by his side, not just as his knight, but as his partner. 

He knows it’s not conventional. Most people marry royalty from other lands to strengthen treaties or secure partnerships. But his father never married. He found other ways to do those things, so surely Gai can too. Right?

He’s afraid to bring it up to his father. Terrified that he’ll be rejected. But when he finally does, Dai just laughs and tells his son that it’s about time. That he just needed to tell him what it was he wanted, and he would make it happen for him.

Gai and Kakashi don’t get married right away. Neither of them is in a rush.

But when they do it’s a big event, and Kakashi is not pleased about this fact.

Both of their fathers are standing by their side, proud that their sons have found each other and can be together. That they know who’s side they belong at. Kakashi can’t imagine Anyone else protecting Gai, and Gai wouldn’t have anyone else standing beside him as his husband or as his royal guard.

Kakashi’s position does not change at all. There are people of course who are adamant that the King's husband cannot be his royal guard. that the position is too dangerous. 

But Dai knows that neither of the boys are going to let anyone else take Kakashi’s position, and he’s alright with that. Kakashi has always been the one to protect Gai, and he always will be. 

Skill Swap Au

Kakashi and Gai still meet outside of the academy, but it’s Kakashi who has been turned away. Denied entry because of his lack of skill in Ninjitsu or Genjutsu. Gai feels bad for the other boy. He looks so sad standing there by his father's side, the White fangs side, knowing that he can’t get into the academy because he has been deemed ‘not good enough

Seeing something in Kakashi that no one else did, Gai decides to challenge him to a spar. It takes a few attempts, and Kakashi gets annoyed really easily at his challenges and tries to remind him that he’s just going to lose to ‘the genius’, but finally Kakashi caves.

And Kakashi loses, badly. But when he crawls to his feet and stuffs his hands into his pockets determined to leave, Gai stops him and tells him that they should spare again.

And he doesn’t stop challenging Kakashi. No matter how many times Kakashi wants to give up. No matter how often the two of them hear that Gai’s ‘wasting his time with a failure’. Gai never gives up on Kakashi.

He knows what Kakashi could be capable of. He has seen his own father train her to be strong, and he has seen Kakashi training on his own. Kakashi is not a quitter. He works his butt off and always comes home bruised and tired from his efforts. Gai knows if they just keep at it, that Kakashi can become strong.

Ultimately, with Gai’s help and a lot of perseverance, Kakashi finally makes it into the academy. It’s a moment of celebration for them both and Gai can’t stop congratulating Kakashi.

Halfway through the year, Sakumo’s mission goes terribly wrong, and suddenly ‘the white fang’ is a name no longer spoken with pride. It’s a name that people spit venom at. And that loss in pride hits Kakashi hard. After Sakumo’s death, Kakashi disappears from the academy.

Gai’s terrified that Kakashi has given up. That he’s just going to let those hateful people’s words win and stop trying to become a great shinobi.

He’s wrong. Oh so wrong. Kakashi’s more determined than ever to prove himself. to show the village that he can be a great Ninja no matter what they say. Every day from dawn to dusk Kakashi trains endlessly. Pushing himself to near collapse just to get stronger. 

It’s at this point, after finding Kakashi unconscious in a field after a long day of training, that Dai decides to show him the eight gates.

Having Kakashi around the house a lot more is pretty weird, but Gai also really enjoys it. Kakashi’s not always the friendliest person, but he’s always helping out around the house with chores. 

Gai graduated from the academy at the age of five, setting the record for the youngest shinobi to become a genin ever. Choza Sensei decides when he’s six to have him compete in the chunin exams, and he is promoted before any of his classmates even make genin.

Kakashi graduated at the age of seven, which is still really impressive given the fact that people have always said he would never amount to anything. 

Gai gets placed on team choza with Ebisu and Genma, while Kakashi gets placed on Team Minato with Obito and Rin. Kakashi’s still very ‘by the rules’ because of his father, but rather than fighting with Obito over who’s stronger, Kakashi and Obito get along a bit better.

By the time they’re 11, Kakashi has actually managed to beat Gai in a fight. It’s no surprise to Gai when he becomes a chunin along with the others, even as Gai is promoted to Jonin ahead of them. 

Team Minato still gets the Kannabi bridge mission, but they’re given another Jonin to lead the mission while Minato takes care of his part of it. When Rin is kidnapped, Obito convinces Kakashi to go with him to get her even though they’re going directly against Jonin’s orders. 

Kakashi still loses his eye protecting Obito, Obito still awakens his sharing, and then Obito ‘dies’ saving Kakashi from being crushed by a bolder.

Kakashi is blamed for the mission going wrong when they get back to Konoha, but instead of allowing it to eat at him, he decides to keep training. To become stronger and show the village that he’s not the failure they think he is.

Gai is determined to help him in this mission and starts making their competitions into training sessions together. 

Whenever someone gets rude with Kakashi or blames him for Obito’s death, they usually find themselves meeting the end of Gai’s foot. Kakashi may not be willing to stand up to them, but Gai is more than happy to do it for them.

Rin doesn’t die in this au because of Kakashi. Instead, recognizing that she has no other way out, she uses Kakashi’s distraction while fighting the enemy shinobi to take her own life. 

Obito’s still mad at Kakashi for not being able to save her, and Kakashi still see’s her blood on his hands in his nightmares. But that’s because he actually held her body while she bled out. 

Recognizing his student’s strength and hurt, Minato decides to shove Kakashi into Anbu. Something that’s frowned upon by many until Kakashi starts going out onto missions. They’re surprised by his sheer strength and ability in the field. 

When Minato dies against the Kyuubi, Kakashi sinks deeper into depression and tries to push everyone away, including Gai.

Of course, Gai doesn’t allow this. He refuses to let Kakashi suffer alone and always tries to keep up with their competition and spars.

When he realizes just how bad Anbu is affecting Kakashi’s mental health, Gai decides to try and join so that he can be with him. But he’s turned away because of his personality (just like in Canon)

So instead, he decides to get Kakashi out.

Kakashi’s not too happy to be made a join sensei after being shoved out of Anbu, but he takes it as punishment for not being able to help Itachi avoid the massacre route that he chose to take (in Kakashi’s eye since he doesn’t know the truth at this point)

Over the years, Kakashi has grown a lot as a shinobi. Even Itachi was surprised to see just how strong Kakashi was with just Taijutsu and did a lot of training with him to improve his own Taijutsu. 

Come the Chunin exams with Team seven and Team Gai, Neji, Lee, and Tenten are unsurprised to find that Team Seven is extremely skilled in Taijutsu. Kakashi has taught them well, and these three are ready to take names and kick butt. 

Sasuke still loses in his fight against Lee, but Lee’s proud to say that he was taught Taijutsu from their sensei (taught first by Gai, and then improved upon by Kakashi) and that they’re surely going to get stronger with more time under him.

The month that Kakashi spends training up Sasuke’s taijutsu is possibly the worst month of Sasuke’s life. He’s introduced to Kakashi’s personal training methods and it is not fun. Not one bit. 

And after the chunin exams, while the village is trying to repair itself from the Konoha crush and settle into some sense of nromality, Itachi and Kisame show up. This time, it’s Gai who faces down Itachi and ends up in a 72 hour genjutsu. Itachi knows better than to allow the genius time to come up with a plan. But then just as Kisame is about to swoop in and finish Gai, Kakashi shows up and kicks him away. A genius and the best taijutsu master of Konoha? Itachi is out. This is not worth the hassle. 

Sasuke finds out about Itachi's appearance in the village while Kakashi, Kurenai and Asuma are watching over Gai while he's resting from Itachi's attack. Kakashi of course goes after his student

Kakashi also gets to the the 'dynamic entry' against Jiraiya, kicking him in the face and away from his students. He recognizes Jiraiya of course, but damn he'd be lying if he said that didn't feel good.

#Royalty au #Skill Swap Au #Kakagai #Anonymous #Long POst #Omg this got so long i'm sorry XD

[ktheist]

twenty-eight

chapters:    27 / 28 / 29

knight!jungkook x princess!reader

x

“Your majesty,” Yoongi’s monotonous voice bounces off the walls - you can never truly tell whether he abhors you, pity you or didn’t care enough to harbor any sort of emotion for you, “the king is threatening to slay through the Northern Kingdom’s knights to see you.”

The sound of droplets splashing into the water in the tub is your only response as you run your hand down your arm, “he won’t kill anyone,” you say before halting mid-action, eyes trained on the man with the blankest canvas on his face, “unless he’s had a change of heart.”

“War changes people - if he did have a change of heart, then it is for her majesty to guide it back to the right place,” Jungkook offers you a towel, leaning on the edge of the tub with a somber smile on his face.

It’s been two nights since Yerin brought the news of Taehyung’s return - in a normal setting, it would take three days to get to the Glass Palace, where you’ve retreated to, fleeing away from your enemies that seem to litter the main palace’s ground like vermins.

“Does her majesty not speak for herself?” The sharp tone from the man across the room forces you to take your eyes off your knight and to him.

For the first time since you know him, Yoongi’s eyes are clouded with a sort of distaste as he stares at his comrade. If your sword was anywhere closer to your grasp, you could have sliced through the tension with it. Jungkook is the leader, the middle man between you and your ghosts - though you didn’t expect them to get along, it was a given that they should trust the shots his calls.

“Of course her majesty does,” the younger man tears his gaze to meet yours, a faint smile tugging on his lips as he caresses your cheekbone, “your majesty, should you help spare the lives of your former brothers in arms?”

The knights Seokjin had sent were those who’d fought with you against Taehyung and survived the war. When you heard it was your own division that he sent, you almost told him to take back the order. Because it was cruel to send him to a nation that murdered their brothers. To protect their princess against the man whose army they’d fought to the death for, thinking they wouldn’t have to face such a monster again, but ended up having their nightmares come true.

They are strong willed, that much, you admit.

But didn’t mean they do not feel fear.

And if there was any ounce of sympathy left in your hollowed vessel, it was better directed for the ones who’d die for you - a severely lacking concept in the Northern Kingdom.

“Very well,” you agree, pushing yourself up and hearing the sound of water splatters echo off the walls.

Yoongi keeps his head lowered as Jungkook drape a robe over your shoulders before you tied the sash around your waist. With droplets still trickling down your hair and footprints dot your steps, you walk past the elder man and down the corridor where Yerin stands at the end, staring at something beyond the balcony with a troubled frown.

“Your majesty,” she greets as soon as she sees you.

With a dismissive wave, you order her to stay back while you step onto the moonlight poured balcony, hands placed on the railing. There are at least a hundred men standing guard, with their spears pointed at a familiar tall frame and the black horse next to him.

“___,” his sharp gaze softens when he spots your figure looking over him, voice gentle, “tell these men to stand down.”

“Frustrating to talk to someone who won’t listen, no?” Not waiting for his response, you curtly lay out your terms, “execute her.”

Your name falls off his tongue like a heartbreaking hymn, “it’s not that easy- there must be a trial first.”

“Was that what Lord Park ‘advised’ you?” The word drips off your tongue like venom, the man’s scheming smile burning at the back of your mind.

Ever since you’d been poisoned, he’d been leading the other ministers in opposing you and taking over your job. They probably had complete control in the palace for the two weeks you’d fled, leaving your post and duties without someone to stand in - then again, there was no one you could trust to fill in the job of both the Queen and King that you’d been carrying on your shoulders since Taehyung left.

“You’ve just lost a child,” you know where this is going, “you’re not thinking st-”

“I know what I heard, Taehyung,” your heart palpitates a little faster, the chilly air doing nothing to ease the fire burning deep within the pit of your stomach, “she said if only i had kept my head low, I would have at least been able to keep my child.”

“I know my mother, ___.” He counters, voice straining with tension, “she may dislike the way you do things but she would never-”

“I’m sure Claude would have thought the world of me too,” it’s a surprise how your voice hasn’t cracked at the mention of your son, your baby, “if she didn’t take him away from me.”

Just as you thought the man you gave half of your heart to is lost forever, you watch his heart break through the windows of his souls as he whispers to himself “...it was a boy?” 

“He died in the womb because of the poison she fed me,” you force out, “did Lord Park not include that in his reports?”

“You...” his throat goes dry before he can even finish his words.

But you already know what he was about to say - it only consists of a repetition of your words with a more surprised undertone to them. As though it was news to his ears. A sad one, it seems, but still news.

It had been over two weeks and your heart had been broken far too many times. That was possibly why you didn’t wait for him to process anything when you put your foot down, shoulders squared like a woman scorned, “I may have left with a luggage, a lady-in-waiting, a maid and a cook,” you pause, watching as the realization sinks in his eyes, “but I made sure I brought the divorce papers with me in the event that you made a poor choice.”

Before he has a chance to say anything more which only serves to fuel your resentment - to whom you’re not quite sure anymore - you give out one last order for the night, “his majesty shall stay at the storage room,” though it doesn’t look like he’ll willfully follow any attendant you sent to guide him there, “or on the ground in front of the door, I don’t care - but nobody comes in or out without my permission.”

You don’t hear as much as a protest from the king as you walk back inside, Yerin and Jungkook who were standing behind the door frame, following you to your room with the exception that the first halts at your bedroom door, head lowered as she echoes back your ‘good night, Yerin.”

Yoongi isn’t anywhere to be found especially after challenging Jungkook’s position.

You wonder if he’ll be disciplined.Considering this is the first time a ghost has ever voiced protest against Jungkook, there wasn’t any need for such harsh treatments - but then again, no one ever admitted his leadership. Just his role to communicate what the ghosts want to you and you them.

The thought disappears as soon as the door closes with an echoing click - and yet the demand tugs on your conscience, “___, why didn’t you tell me that you brought the divorce papers?”

“I’m not going to go through it,” is all you say.

But instead of leaving it as it is, Jungkook presses on - or at least, his tone doesn’t seem like the comforting one that you remember it to be, “I’m disappointed you’d hide such plans from me.”

For the briefest moment, Yoongi’s emotionless face crosses the back of your mind.

“Am I to consult everything with you?” Whirling around, you see nothing but a silhouette within the shadow but you have an inkling that his eyes aren’t as soft and gentle as you wish they would be.

And perhaps, that’s what keeps you going, “you’re nothing but a ghost. Who are you to demand things from me - the Queen!”

You can’t hear anything but the sound of your own blood rushing in your ears. Feel nothing but the throb of your heart through your entire body. The seconds seem to stretch on for hours but there is no trace of the earliest ray of the sun. Not even the sound of birds chirping.

“You’re right, your majesty,” Jungkook finally says, but for some reason, your heart doesn’t stop thrashing in your chest, “forgive my impudence.”

“That’s fine,” you clear your throat, wishing to assert dominance but all you are is a palpitating mess because it would have been better if Jungkook just shouted back. If he’d throw just as painful words to you as you did him.

But he doesn’t.

And you can’t help but compare him to the man you sent to the storage room to spend the night at. Whilst Taehyung anger is hot, burning flames that bursts without so much as a warning, Jungkook’s is molten lava that turns everything he touches to ashes.

And for the first time since you’ve known your knight, you’re afraid of burning yourself. 

“Let’s go to sleep - I’m tired,” you announce, climbing into the bed on your side before feeling his arm snake around your waist like it would for the amount of time you’ve spent at the Glass Palace together.

As much as you feel the remaining pieces of your heart being crushed into dusts by the very man you hold dear to, you’re also painfully aware that he’s the only thing you’ve got here in this foreign land.

x

taglist: @fanfuckingfic @apurpledheart @koochiekoo

#bts smut #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #jungkook fic #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts imagines

[ruination-fangs]

Tales of Asteria, Chapter 4 Raven’s Scenario: Strands of the Truth Stages 1-3

I am still doing this. very very slowly

Stage 1: Dreams of Empty Space

Scene 1:

In a throne room, a nameless man pledges his sword to the king and the people. The man who appears to be the king recognizes him as a knight and protector of the throne.

Suddenly he finds himself on a battlefield, panting.

Nameless Man: Dammit... Why is this happening... And just when we were finally able to stand together...! We couldn't stop any of it..! Enemy soldiers: There's a survivor! Surround him and kill him! Nameless Man: ...Fine. I'll end it myself. This stupid war... all of it... in exchange for this life. *Shing* Nameless Man: ...Wait for me just a little longer. I'll be there soon. Haaaaaah....!

Raven: That was... ???: What's with you? What happened? You always look so sullen, Raven. Raven: You're...

Raven wakes up, and realizes it was a dream - an odd dream he keeps having lately. The person on the throne isn't Lazarus, but he doesn't know who it is. He's never seen a war like that, either, but it feels strangely real - especially the voice at the end. He can't recall where he's heard it before, or whether it was recently or a long time ago. Thinking about it makes him tired.

He notices that it's raining now. He has to go out to work on a case, but he doesn't want to end up with a cold. He wishes he could just quit, though he knows he can't.

There's a knock at the door. Assuming it’s a customer, he welcomes the guest in.

???: I'd say I'm sorry to intrude... but you sure don't look busy in here. Raven: My apologies, we... Oh, it's you. Claw: ...Yeah. Long time no see, Raven.

Scene 2:

Raven remarks that it's rare to see Claw there, to which Claw replies he has little reason to visit. Even so, he tells Raven not to look so sullen. It's the same words from Raven's dream, and Raven visibly reacts. When Claw notices, Raven says he's just disappointed because he thought he finally had a customer. Claw suggests he's more like a colleague, even though Raven describes himself as just as lousy old shopkeeper - ostensibly.

As expected, Claw came to ask about a fugitive. He wants to know if Raven has heard anything about a supposed accomplice of the person they're after. Raven guesses he means the "cool beauty" who disrupted the recent festival, and wonders why Claw is asking, because he heard that the White Lions were already on the trail. Claw explains that they lost the criminal when she fell off a cliff in the Gahram Mountains, and somehow there was no trace of her to be found at the bottom. It's no longer a straightforward case, and they're seeking information about the accomplice because they need a new clue.

Unfortunately, Raven has nothing to offer, though he's doing all he can to look into it. Claw gets snippy about how Raven isn't as good as he thought he was then, but Raven just remarks that it's rare to see him so tired. Claw points out that not only do they have someone on the run, the prime minister's sister was kidnapped, and apparently a new criminal showed up in the city yesterday. They can't search for all of them at the same time.

Raven wishes him good luck; that's the White Lions' jurisdiction, after all, not his. Exasperated, Claw requests that Raven let him know if he finds anything, and Raven agrees. He has a responsibility in this case too. Claw also offers a reward of a good meal for good info, which catches Raven's attention. He thanks Raven before he leaves.

Once he's gone, Raven thinks on the fact that he'd like to help the White Lions, but, things being what they are, it's out of the question right now. He apologizes to Claw and goes outside, where it's still raining. He'd rather stay inside, but he has to hurry and find the "target" before the White Lions' investigation drives them into hiding.

Stage 2: Frightened Girl in a Rainy City

Scene 1:

A young girl runs down a city street in the pouring rain. Her doll-like companion is worried she'll catch a cold, and when she pauses, a woman approaches, concerned. The woman insists the girl come to her house and dry off, but before they get there, they're stopped by a knight asking what's going on. Seeing that the knight is with the White Lions, the doll tells the girl to run. She apologizes and takes off.

Elsewhere, an information broker tells Raven about a girl wandering around in the rain, sticking to the back alleys. When a knight tried to speak to her, she got scared and ran away. Raven thanks the informant and leaves.

This is the only useful information he's gotten from asking around. Still, having met Velvet, he's pretty sure she wouldn't have left the chancellor's sister in the city. He doesn't know what Lady Lazarus is up to, but he's good at simply following along with whatever happens.

With no time to waste and no other leads, he decides to investigate the back alleys the informant mentioned.

When he gets there, he sees White Lions here and there, probably keeping an eye out for the escaped criminal. Suddenly the little girl appears, and Raven realizes she's the one the informant was talking about.

Scene 2:

Raven wants to talk to the girl, but she won't let him close to her. When Raven reassures her that she doesn't have to be scared - he's surprisingly gentlemanly for an old man - the floating doll tells him not to touch her. Raven is surprised, but he's not intending to follow them or anything. He just wants to talk. Still, the doll insists he stay away.

Suddenly the girl starts gasping for breath and staggering around. She says she's okay, but she immediately collapses and cries for help. Exasperated, Raven decides it'll cause problems if she dies, and picks her up. The doll stays quiet. Raven mutters that there certainly does seem to be something going on here, and it's turned into quite a mess.

Stage 3: The Pair at the Anything Agency

Scene 1:

Raven watches the girl sleep on the couch in his quarters. She's really out of it, but she doesn't seem to be hurt, just completely exhausted. Suddenly she starts groaning in her sleep as if she's having a bad dream.

???: Lady Lazarus... why... I didn't see... anything...

Her sleeptalking alarms Raven, but at that moment a voice screams "divine punishment!!" and a young woman bursts in.

???: Rayray! I thought you were better than this! Raven: Ow ow ow... What are you doing back so suddenly, little Norma? What did I do? Norma: What did you do!? How could you bring such an innocent girl back here!?

Raven insists she's misunderstood and he's just trying to help the girl. Norma is upset, both about their lack of work recently, and how Raven is always so cryptic. She believed better of him, and demands an explanation.

When Raven can finally get a word in, he tells her that he found the girl in the alleys. She seemed to be lost, and it was a sad sight, watching her running around in the pouring rain. So the gentlemanly old man who just so happened to be there brought her to shelter. Norma is skeptical, both of his story and his assertion that he would never lie to her.

While they're arguing, Teepo wakes up, and Norma freaks out about the talking doll. Raven says he was surprised too at first, though he tabled the issue because he had bigger problems to deal with. Elize is awake too now, and is alarmed when Norma and Raven notice her.

Scene 2:

Elize is silent. Raven is glad she's awake, but he would prefer she speak up. Norma tells him to be quiet and let her handle things.

Norma: Hello! I'm Norma Beatty. This guy with the messy hair is Raven. This is our agency, The Office of Beatty and Beatty. Raven: "The Office of Beatty and Beatty"? I don't remember agreeing to that. Seriously, Beatty and Beatty? Those are both your- Norma: So, what happened to you? Would you mind telling me? Raven: Wh- Don't ignore me!

The girl haltingly tells them that she’s a student, but she was running away because she got caught up in something scary. Raven mentions that while she was sleeping, she was very restless and muttered something about Lady Lazarus. He'd be willing to chalk it up to delirium, but she seemed terrified.

Elize doesn't respond. Norma chides Raven because whatever happened might be hard for her to talk about, and Raven shuts up again.

When Norma asks again, the girl says that since she couldn't go home, she stayed in the city. She remembers feeling overwhelmed, but nothing after that is clear. Raven informs her that she collapsed right in front of him. He uses her noncommittal affirmative as proof that what he told Norma was true, though Norma remains unconvinced. In any case, she doesn't think the girl is lying.

She then asks for the girl's name. She introduces herself as Elize Lutus, and her friend is Teepo. Norma immediately calls them Lil E and Teepon, and Raven explains that she gives nicknames to everyone she meets.

Raven asks Elize what she wants to do now, but Norma stops him and scolds him for letting Elize stay in her soaking wet clothes for so long. Even though he couldn’t change them himself, he could have called her for help. She decides they need to get Elize's clothes fixed up first, and they can talk after.

She shoos Raven out, and then suggests that he might as well go get them something to eat. Elize must be starving, and also, she is too. Raven suspects that's her real motivation, but he grudgingly goes. Watching them, Elize and Teepo comment that they seem like nice people.

Some time later, Norma gives Elize her dried out clothes back and asks how she's feeling. Elize says she’s much better, and she's sorry for making them feed her and everything. Norma doesn't want her to worry about it; of course she would help someone in need. (Even though Raven was the one who bought the food, he mutters.)

Norma then asks what she's going to do now. Elize wants to go back to her hometown, the city of Almeria. But that's pretty far away, and Raven has heard that recently monsters have been appearing on the roads between towns, so it’s too dangerous for Elize, even with Teepo. 

Nevertheless, Elize doesn't want to stay in the city. Raven then slyly suggests that it would be another story if she had an escort, and Norma praises him for having a good idea for once. This is exactly the kind of thing their business is for, after all.

They explain to a confused Elize that they'll go with her. They can't just kick her out and leave her by herself. When Elize confesses that she has no money to pay them, Norma just says they couldn't possibly take anything from her. (They can always bill the household instead! Raven tells her not to act like it's free, then.)

Norma wants to leave right away, until Teepo complains that she's being kind of pushy. She amends that they'll leave once Elize is ready. Elize says she's fine; she wants to hurry, if they can. With everything decided, they head out.

Raven lingers behind, wondering what they'll find.

#tales of asteria #raven (tov) #elize lutus #norma beatty #translations #still don't know how to tag the white lions

[lokischocolatefountain]

Knight in Tulle Armour

Pairing: Loki x OFC

Rating: General 

Word count: 2.2K

Summary: Loki’s fiancé doesn't need to be rescued from bullying palace staff by a Knight in Shining Armour.

Astrid gasped and clutched her stomach as the seamstress yanked her back by the ribbons on her dress. “Can’t breathe,” she managed to choke out as the corset grew tighter and tighter. The woman finally let go and she fell forward but then clutched the mirror to steady herself. 

“Was that really necessary, Synnøve?” 

“My apologies, Lady Astrid. I often forget how fragile mortals could be.” 

There it was. It had been two hours since she was dragged into this room to try on wedding gowns and she was surprised that nothing had happened yet. She had been putting up with remarks like this for a whole month on Asgard. Loki knew nothing. When the two were seen together, the Æsir kept their remarks subtle. Loki wasn’t one to stir up conflict that would jeopardise political allies, so he dealt with them with similar subtle remarks and it had been fun to watch him tactfully bring down people’s sense of self-worth in a quintessentially Loki style. 

Attacks toward her when she was alone was a different case entirely. People talked shit blatantly, criticised her appearance, flaunted past trysts with her fiancé to her face, humiliated her, the lest went on and on. Apparently yanking her around by the ribbons of her corseted bodice was the hot new thing on the list. 

She was still in the initial stages of picking a dress, checking which silhouette she preferred. It was supposed to be an easy process until she discovered it wasn’t. There were load and load of options and different types of cuts and sleeves and silhouettes and colours. It wasn’t often that she wore any dress, let alone bridal ones. Her career didn’t allow her the freedom to wear anything other than ill-fitted scrubs and on occasion, well-fitted suits. Her motorcycle was her primary mode of transport and long flowy dresses were a safety hazard while short ones were a wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen. So, she had many things to blame for her lack of dress knowledge. But, that made the Asgardians here look down on her like she was some kind of peasant who had never seen a dress before. 

“Lady Astrid, Prince Loki requested your presence when you are finished here.” 

“Im finished,” she said hurriedly as she lifted up the layers and layers of tulle of her dress, jumped off her platform in her kitten heels and leaped out the door with the woman who called for her. Her facial expression contorted to suggest she was looking at an adorable puppy rather than a grown ass woman. 

“I remember being your age, newly in love and waiting for an opportunity to run off to meet my beloved.” 

Astrid just smiled and nodded, not having the heart to tell her that she was only rushing to be away from her banshee of a seamstress rather than to the arms of her lover. She was also surrounded by plenty of strangers the whole day and would kill to see a familiar face. She was escorted to Loki’s wing of the palace and left at the doorsteps. She quickly thanked her and stepped in. Loki was seated comfortable on his sofa, flipping through the pages of a humongous tome when you entered. He looked up from his book, surprised. 

“Get me out of this!” 

“Woah, woah! Breathe, darling,” he said in his silky smooth voice as straightened himself on the sofa. 

“I can’t breathe if you don’t get me out of this!” 

With just a flick of his finger, from a distance, the ribbons loosened and air finally entered her lungs. She plopped down ungraciously next to him and her dress took up most of the space on a sofa that would comfortably seat four Asgardians. She laid down with her feet on one side of the sofa and her head on Loki’s lap and kicked off her heels to the ground. 

“Nice dress,” he said, looking serious for only a fraction of a second before breaking into laughter. 

“Shut up, dick!” 

“No, I do not jest. You will make a wonderful cake at the ceremony.” 

She threw a cushion at his face, but the man continued laughing at your expense. Each time he simmered down and she thought he was going to stop, he began laughing louder.

“I’ve had a horrible day and I would appreciate if you stopped laughing at me and the ugly dress. If not, I will kill you in your sleep.”

“I presume it was unsuccessful…” 

“Could you remove this synthetic cloud smothering me to death?” she asked, lifting up some of the layers and letting it cascade back down. It took him very little time to vanish what she was wearing and replace it with cotton shorts and a t-shirt from her side of the wardrobe. 

“Thanks,” she sighed, relaxing for the first time that day. 

“Do you have anything to do, today?” 

“Yes, loads. Prince, remember?” 

“Ah, yes. People constantly remind me of that,” she said, dejected that she may not be able to spend too much time with him.

Her traced his index finger along her jawline as he looked at her in a way that drove her insane even after years of being together. “I always have time for you, my dear. Give me your word and I will cancel all my plans for you.” 

“No, you shouldn’t. You have Princely responsibilities and I don’t want to impede that.” If people knew that their Prince skived off responsibilities to play hooky with his ‘mortal pet’ as some called her, she would only face more shit on a day to day basis. 

“What is it? Tell me.” All the playfulness had vanished and he looked quite serious, so she decided to be out with it instead of mincing her words. 

“Could you possibly drop me off on Earth?” 

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, I just- I think I like Earth dresses better…” 

“Is the fine hand-spun silk of Asgard not good for my lady?” 

“I think I will be more comfortable in Earth dresses.”

“I would take you to Midgard right now, but there are better solutions than traveling lightyears away to buy a dress. You could give all your requirements to to the seamstresses and they will make you a dress.”

“We don’t really work well together.” 

“That should not be a problem since you do not work together, she is supposed to work for you. Something unpleasant must have happened for you to react this way.” Shit. There was no way she could keep it from him now. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I shall find out on my own,” he said as he gently moved her head off his lap and set in on a cushion. Before he could leave, she caught him by his wrist. She was in no way strong enough to stop a God, but he respected her enough to stay.  

“No! Please don’t, Loki. They already infantilize me enough. If you go there, inquiring about who pushed me in the playground, they will only continue treating me like a child. So, don’t intervene.” 

He turned to her sharply and pried her hand off his wrist. His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes showed hints of confusion and anger. “They have been infantilising you? Today was only your first appointment with the seamstresses… So, it is not just them, is it?” 

She stood up to be on level with Loki.  “Everyone, Loki. Someone called me your Midgardian pet. My first night here, an old lady mocked my tiny portion size at dinner. Just yesterday, the woman who dressed tried to give me advice and how you liked it- in bed- and she tried to get me to use some hair product she claimed drove you mad. The seamstress today- Synnøve, yanked me by the dress and basically went ‘Oopsie, I keep forgetting you’re so fragile and breakable’- I need a break from being an alien. Just, please take me home for a while.” 

“Astrid, why is this the first time I am hearing of this?” She had not expected the conversation to take such a serious turn. But, she didn't know what she expected in the first place. 

“I didn’t want to complain to you like a child!” 

He gripped her arms in her effort to bring her closer to him. She let him and even allowed herself to settle into his comforting embrace as he spoke to her, his harsh tone being replaced by a gentle one. “You may have different expectations from your subordinates back on Midgard, but here on Asgard, you are a Prince’s Consort and will be treated as such. If you do not set them straight now and demand the respect you are entitled to with your title, you will forever be humiliated in your own home. Is that what you want?” 

She separated herself from the comfort of listening to his heart beat and looked up at him. “I understand all that. I just don’t want to stir up anything. I don’t want to get a bad reputation so early on- that I’m rude or difficult or bossy.” 

“You mentioned that on Earth, there is a double standard in the judgement of women’s behaviour when compared to men. You are at a similar disadvantage here. They will speak horribly of you no matter what. You will be criticised for every breath you take, every move you make. You learn have to ignore them and when necessary, exert your authority over them.” 

She shook her head in disagreement. “I’m not married to you yet, I have no authority.” 

“Do you believe everything will fall apart before the ceremony and we may not be married?” 

She didn't have to answer him. 

“I will ask my Chief of Staff to bring you a list of the best designers in all of the nine realms. You could interview them tomorrow and choose a team of your favourite ones.” 

“That’s…” 

“Wonderful.” 

“-too much.” 

“I disagree. I think it is the appropriate thing to do.” 

“Thank you,” she said as she let go of him. 

“Now, I will ask for the portfolios to be brought for you to pick the best of the best.” 

“You do that, I have something to do.” 

Loki magicked the ugly dress back onto her as it was hardly appropriate for her to walk out in booty shorts and she left determinedly to face the woman she had run away from. 

The woman looked at her mockingly as she entered the fitting room, carrying her high heels rather than walking in them. She eyed the crumpled state of her dress and Astrid was sure that she believed she had just had sex in it. She climbed up the platform and stood in front of the mirror. 

“The Prince does like to have his pets at his beck and call,” she said in a saccharine, sing-song voice as she stood approached the dais to continue working. Her long spindly fingers began loosening the ribbons of the corseted dress.

“Does he, Synnøve? Thank you very much for informing me. You see, I am new here and not acquainted with the norms of the palace or the people here. However, I am certain that insinuating crudely about the Prince and his Consort is punishable.” 

Astrid could tell that she was taken aback by her as she noticed that a flash of panic crossed her eyes right before her hands stopped abruptly. As though unaffected by it, she continued unlacing the dress. They spent what felt like hours in an awkward silence as she freed Astrid from her tulle prison. She was glad that Loki magic these dresses off of her in seconds or she would spend years unlacing them manually. Even if he couldn’t use magic for the purpose, she was sure that the man would rip them off to get to her quickly. 

“Which dress would you like to try on next, Lady Astrid?” All hints of superiority and mockery had fled the woman. She looked constipated like the act of being civil to a Midgardian was physically painful. 

“That wouldn’t be necessary. I would like my dress back.” 

“So, this is the silhouette you would like,” she asked, confused by the lack of clarity in her words. 

“No, it’s quite hideous. I’d just like my dress back so that I can leave.” 

“Shall we continue tomorrow?” 

“No, the Prince believed it was only appropriate for me to choose a worthy designer rather than be assigned to a random seamstress.” 

“Oh.” All light had left her eyes now and Astrid swore that she saw the woman gulp. There were no protests from her and she was just relieved to be rid of the seamstress. 

As she stood in front of the mirror, being laced into the dress she wore to the fitting at the beginning of the day, she felt a little more confident in her ability to deal with people here. She may never fit in, never be seen as a fit bride for their Prince, but she wasn’t going to allow them to bully her into submission. 

#Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fanfic #loki x ofc #loki x reader #loki fic #Knight in Tulle Armour #loki laufeyson x reader

[yafaemi]

vi. | revenant.

What? I’ve definitely been writing this entire time. What do you mean? I didn’t take a break for too-tired-to-even-exist reasons. I’m definitely not going to be going a bit slower with this stories, because honestly I Am Still Fairly Tired.

Anyways, this is a really like... exciting story for me!! This is another one of those kinda stories that I had the entire plan for, but just never got into actually writing. I’ve been planning for something like this to happen for months. Literal. Months.

Description: In the midst of a morning stroll, Amandine is bumped into by a rather... interesting stranger. Yet, even from the first, there is something... unsettlingly familiar about them.

_________________________________________________________

She didn’t know what to make of the man before her. 

This stranger was so hauntingly familiar. Amandine knew she had never met him before. She was good at faces, yet this one was… had she not still been staring so intently, there would have definitely been a deepening frown on her face. 

“...just remembered, I never mentioned my name.” One hand ran through almost-black hair, and he smiled. “But where are my manners? Bumping into a stranger, and not even introducing myself! Averoux D’amboise,” he said, with a half-step back into a bow. 

It took her a few moments to pull away from the overpowering feeling of familiarity. She knew that name, and she knew that face, yet from where? “Amandine,” she replied with a bow of her own. “Forgive my forwardness— we haven’t met before, have we? For some reason, I…” she trailed off, arms crossing. “...nevermind. It must be my mind playing tricks on me.” 

Averoux’s eyes furrowed for a moment. One eyebrow raised a half-second later, leaning forward towards her. There was a frown on his face as he said, “That makes two of us, then. How strange.” 

There was plenty strange about their encounter already. One that Amandine had been pretending not to notice was how similar they looked— had she seen herself and this stranger side by side, as a random bystander, she would have assumed of some familial relation. Yet that wasn’t…

Even then, from what she had been told by her aunt, before...

It didn’t bear thinking about. Amandine shrugged with a far more tense smile than she meant, “A funny coincidence if there ever was one.” Another half moment to look around, as if thinking of something other than the strangeness occurring before her, before, “I believe it’s about time that I take my leave. May the Fury watch over you.” 

“...Wait.” 

Amandine stopped at his side. She glanced over with a raised eyebrow, watching Averoux slowly turn towards her with a narrowed gaze, clearly searching for… something. She shifted her weight slightly, and stole another glance to the way she’d been going. Then with an even breath turned directly towards him. 

Averoux’s expression was far less dignified for several moments as he seemed to spot whatever it was in her face he looked for. “Were you adopted into your family?” One half of a second and he added, “Rude, yes, and I absolutely beg forgiveness— yet I can’t shake that feeling. Nophica as my witness, I am not crazy.” 

For some reason, she highly doubted that. “I advise that you explain yourself, before I lose my patience,” Amandine said with a slow reach towards her staff. Her fingertips brushed against it at first, before finally wrapping around its length. “And deliver you to the Temple Knights in pieces for your questionable act.”

Normally, she wouldn’t make such threats towards someone. In the middle of the day in Ishgard, no less. Yet something about the encounter seemed far too off. Perhaps it was the still-remaining sense of familiarity. The only time she blinked was when her eyes started to burn. 

And still, the living enigma of an Elezen before her didn’t so much as flinch. If anything, the light violet stare seemed amused. He cracked a smile— hardly an echo of the polite-yet-distant smile of one talking to a stranger they’d just met. It took every ounce of Amandine’s self-control not to wipe it off his face with a whack of her staff. 

“I’m going to say I’ve struck a chord.” The worsening state of her glare apparently confirmed it for him. Averoux’s tone quickened, racing words like an excited child, “Allow me to take a guess— you are… roughly 25, yes? And you were when you were adopted…” he took half a second to count on his hands, numbers mumbled under his breath, “...Approximately 2?” 

She didn’t reply. Just raised a brow. 

“I’ll take your suspicious glare as a yes.” He glanced at her hidden hand. “I would… also appreciate it were you not actively reaching for your weapon. I have no intention of causing you harm. Nophica— once again— as my witness.” When she didn’t move, he only sighed. “...Very well.” 

“I would appreciate it if you could get to your point. I have far better to do than listen to the ramblings of a madman.” 

“I am as sane as they come, my good lady.” 

“I would sooner believe a coeurl say it doesn’t intend to make a meal of my bones,” Amandine said through gritted teeth. Perhaps it was a show of her lacking sanity, to be entertaining the fool for so long. Or a telltale sign that she spent far too much time around people— or, more specifically one person— who always believed the best of everyone. 

There was that smile again. “What good news for us both, then. Last I checked, I am no coeurl.” Before she could even react, Averoux nodded. “I’m afraid it only gets more convoluted from here. Should you like to hear it, then I have a story to tell. I think you would benefit from hearing it in full.”  

Amandine let out a sigh. “Do you need a formal invitation to tell this story, then? Speak. While I’m still foolish enough to stand here and listen to this nonsense.” 

“One specifically in cursive, if you please, with a lovely floral border,” he replied with a bare nod. There was a smirk now, instead of a smile. Amandine was about to clobber him half to death already, yet that made the idea of it so much more tempting. Whether by his own realization of her ever-withering patience, or just an observation of how she shifted her grip behind her again, Averoux cleared his threat. “23 year long winters ago— or, near enough not to matter— there was a family. Disillusioned with their life in the Brume, and tired of the near constant eyes of Ishgard’s wealthy gazing down at them, they left.

“A mother, a father, and two siblings…” He trailed off there, and the look in those light violet eyes seemed far too intense. “A boy and a girl.” At that, Averoux turned away, and began pacing. Amandine’s eyes never left him as he moved. Measured, even steps. “Where their footsteps went was anyone’s guess. Only one thing remained certain: it was away from Ishgard, and that was enough for them.” 

Amandine would have crossed her arms, were one of them not already occupied with her staff. “Heretics in the making, I would guess.” 

Averoux stopped and smiled at her. He said nothing of her comment, only pausing long enough for the stop to be noticeable. And then, he continued pacing again. “This family, they were slaughtered. Likely by Dravanians, given locale. Any soul with an understanding of the creatures would assume the tale ends there. However,” he said with a dramatic turn back to her, “By the will of Halone or by some other deity, the young boy was spared this fate— just barely. 

“Awoken some time later in a new place, where the sunlight poured abundant into every window and the whisper of the elements was in every crevice to those who could hear it. And there he stayed with a lovely little couple of farmers who did all they could to make this child happy. Nophica Herself had sent them to be this child’s aid that day, and they were diligent about their work.”

“What good fortune.”

Either he didn’t notice the sarcasm in her tone, or he just didn’t care. Averoux nodded with another smirk, “Good fortune, indeed. Yet there was one thing they could never give to this child: his family back. They found, quite quickly, that he remembered it. He remembered this loss, and despite their greatest effort, they simply couldn’t replace that which he lost. Even then, they lived a happy life together, for many long years.” 

That certainly wasn’t what Amandine expected. She couldn’t help the small amount of pity that flashed across her face. “It sounds as if these people in your story met a tragic end. I would offer my condolences.” 

“Oh, hardly. They still lead a comfortable life at home. They let their little boy go when he reached his nineteenth winter to finally fulfill the one wish they couldn’t for him. He enlisted in the Archer’s guild, learned all there was to know, and then set off with a single mission. He was going to find what had happened to his family, for he was certain not all of them had perished.” 

Even since the story had begun, Amandine’s feelings about it hadn’t been the brightest. Yet as he continued explaining, she’d slowly been getting more unsettled. Whatever conclusion there was to be had from this, the sinking sense in her gut said she already had a feeling of what it could have been. 

“So he went. For years, he searched. Through the chaos of the Calamity, through the legendary end of the Dragonsong War, all of history was happening, and still he stayed firm in the past. There was nothing more important than this, in his eyes. Nothing.

“Yet, on the eve of another unsuccessful year of searching… he gave up. To spend his life searching for those who were already dead… it was time to accept it. And so he did. And was left without a purpose.” 

Averoux stopped again. His shoulders raised in a long sigh, dropping only at the exhale. With that, he turned around again, yet not in the pattern he’d taken. Instead, he went to stand in front of her again. “And that was where he remained. Drifting, wandering, taking odd jobs and leves to make ends meet until his tracks returned back to the place it had all begun: into Ishgard.

“And what else did he meet there, except a hauntingly familiar stranger, who was the striking image of his late mother. So much so, in fact, that he was so taken aback by the sight that he walked right into her without even realizing.” Were it not for the intense focus she had on not acknowledging the sudden nausea, Amandine would have already followed up on her promise of clobbering him.  

It felt like several minutes had passed before she actually felt like she could breathe again. “If I’ve been following this winding story correctly,” Amandine began with a very forced calm in her tone, “Then I am your sibling.”

He nodded once. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” 

Halone forgive me, this may be my stupidest decision yet. She took her hand off of her staff, and crossed her arms. “Then I am sure you will not refuse this most simple of requests,” she said, and let her arms fall to her sides. “And rest assured, I would be glad to help, should you be willing to accept.” 

His answer was already obvious, even before the words left his mouth. “I accept, then. This is the closest I’ve come to hope in a long, long time.”

“Very well.” Amandine smiled. “Prove it.” 

#seaswolchallenge #my writing #writing #oc writing #ffxiv #ffxiv writing #| a path in falling snow ; a prelude in violet #| rory's little notebook #GODS i am so excited to have this actually finished #i have had the idea of this for so long and i am just. AOIJEVOJVOIBJ #PLUS i get to write amandine trying to be Big And Tough again which is always fun :P #shes always so soft with her friends so its exciting when i get to actually write just yknow.... her being difficult with people lol

[firesign23]

Prompt from ao3 that I’m bringing over her for completion’s sake. From the Brienne/Addam marry for the sake of Jaime’s child AU

First time they spar together?

Under a cut for length and angst

Move, move, parry, shift, move, Brienne, I, strike. Back foot, pivot, when did you last have your moonblood, strike. After the war, we’ll--strike, strike, strike. Her eyes burnt in exhaustion and unwept tears as she thrashed the training dummy without thought, all elegance gone as she pushed it all away, narrowed her world to her body and her sword, unable to completely forget that neither was entirely her own any longer.

“I’m sure it’s quite dead by now,” drawled an amused voice, some hint of the Westerlands scratching at her already raw heart. She spun around, spotting a red-haired man leaning on the wall at the edge of the training yard. Handsome, she thought, unable to muster any feeling for the observation. She has known handsomer, has learnt to not be quite so habitually defensive in the face of beauty. “You’re Lady Brienne, are you not?”

“Ser Brienne,” she spat.

The man smiled disarmingly and bowed. “But of course, Ser. I can’t say news of my cousin’s knighting you was much of a surprise. He spoke very highly of your skills.”

Jaime. She can’t-- She can’t crave him like this, the mere mention of him setting longing off deep in her gut.

“You have me at a disadvantage, I’m afraid,” she said. “You know who I am, but I can’t recall your name.”

The man pushed off the wall, moving towards her; Brienne had bedded a lion, surrounded herself with wolves. He was neither. A hawk, perhaps, intent on prey, but as he stopped before her he gave a smile that was… distinctly human.

“Ser Addam Marbrand,” he said. “We’ve never had the pleasure of meeting, though I’ve heard much of you.”

The rangy man before her bore little resemblance to the mischievous child of Jaime’s tales, save for a glint in his pale blue eyes, but she was inclined to trust him all the same. Or not distrust him, at least, which in King’s Landing was unusual enough.

“What do you want?”

If Tyrion had sent him, she’d send the little bastard down the nearest flight of stairs. He’d had the audacity to apologise to Brienne when she’d arrived south, when all he’d had to do was do nothing.

Ser Addam laughed, a surprisingly mirthful sound. She would not have thought him the type. “A spar against the commander of the Kingsguard, perhaps? I’ve been terribly unchallenged of late.”

“Perhaps you ought to have fought the dead at Winterfell then, Ser Addam. I assure you there was no lack of challenge there.”

It was an insult , but also a question.

“Ahh, yes,” he said. “Jaime left King’s Landing in all haste, I did not know he was gone or why for over a fortnight. He was always impulsive, but I never understood why he went north.”

“He gave his word,” Brienne said, replacing Oathkeeper in her scabbard and grabbing two tourney swords from a nearby rack. She tossed one to Addam, who caught it easily. “On three.”

They fought, slowly at first as they evaluated the other’s skills; he was graceful and quick, and had clearly learnt the basics from the same swordsman as Jaime had. It was--it was not so similar as to be fighting a ghost, but for a moment he felt closer than he had since the night she last saw him. The last time she would ever see him. Her attention wavered, just long enough for Addam to disarm her.

He dropped his own sword instantly. “Are you well?”

Brienne shook her head. “Well done, Ser Addam. Perhaps we will do this again, but not now. I have--”

“He rang the bells.”

It was a blurted confession, one that made her already roiling stomach contract and her mouth water.

“Pardon?”

“Jaime. He rang the bells for surrender. Given… given what resulted, it has been decided this will not be recorded, but… I believed you of all people had the right to know.”

“Why should I have the right?” Brienne asked; her limbs were oddly numb as she contemplated the new information, wanted to rage and cry that for a second time he had tried to save the city and none would know.

“You will bear his child, will you not?”

Her knees wobbled at that; she thrust the tourney sword into the dirt and leaned against it.

“Secrets travel fast in King’s Landing,” she said, as levelly as she could. “I only confirmed it this morning.”

Addam shrugged. “You kept touching your stomach, even as we were fighting. I have sisters, it’s a tell I know well. I came to speak with you, to try and understand what had made him break free--”

“Promises,” Brienne repeated.

“Love,” Addam countered. “I came for answers, but when I suspected you were... “ he nodded towards her stomach; realising her hand was laid across it, she dropped her touch away. “I thought you ought to know the truth. Very few people knew the Jaime I did, but by all accounts you were one of them. That is all we have now.” He gave an ironic smile. “Well, that and the babe, for you. Jaime would have been--”

“I know. We talked of it. After the war was done.” The memories come too fast to push away, and her voice cracked as she admitted, “I thought he would be alive to see it.”

“I am sorry, truly, for your loss, ser,” Addam said. “May I escort you to your quarters?”

She wanted to tell him no, uncertain whether she could mask her pain that far, but just as much she wanted to tell him yes, to cling to whatever scraps of insight he could give, to be hoarded jealously against the slow erosion of time. She would forget, she knew, piece by piece until the Jaime in her mind was nothing more than a poor reproduction. She nodded, a tiny movement of her head that took all of her willpower.

Addam took the tourney swords and offered her his arm as if she were a lady to be escorted, and when she looked at it in disdain he gave a rolling shrug of his shoulders.

“Even a commander is allowed weaknesses, when nobody is looking.”

She smiled and did not take his arm, but the gesture was well meant. They walked towards her rooms, saying very little aside from small stories of Jaime. She can’t face the rest, not yet, but the tale of the stolen pie makes her laugh, and Addam nods seriously when she explains how first they met.

“Do you think he was happy, to be with her in the end?”

They are turning the final corner to her quarters. She hadn’t meant to ask, was not entirely certain she wanted to know the answer. But Addam, perhaps, understood it at least, and the words burst from her lips when she least expected them. Addam considered for a moment, and she wondered if he would lie and how--a “He only loved you” was clearly untrue, but she knew that he had not left out of desire to.

“No,” Addam finally said, quiet and contemplative. “They were many things, over the years, but I don’t think happy was ever one of them.”

He had been happy in Winterfell. Happy with her. She had hoped for that for him, at least, in the days she had waited for news of his death. They reached her door, and Brienne stopped and turned to face Addam.

“Thank you,” she said. “For your honesty.”

Addam nodded. “If you need… if you need someone who knew him, good and bad, to talk to, or-- A shared grief is easier to bear than a solitary one. My door is always open to you, Ser Brienne. Jaime said, once, that I would like you a great deal.”

Brienne laughed despite the weight in her chest. “That does not particularly sound like Jaime.”

Addam shrugged in admission. “I believe his words were more along the line of ‘Addam, the woman is stubborn as all seven hells and a pain in my ass, but you ought to see her with a sword.’ I drew my own conclusions.”

They shared a small smile of understanding at that, and Addam bowed low.

“Keep well, commander. Until our next meeting.”

Brienne inclined her head. “And you, ser,” she said, hesitating only a moment before adding, “Until our next meeting.”

#my fanfic #procrastination prompting

[mearta]

A Chevalier’s Promise - Chapter 3

Ainchase Ishmael x Ciel (Bluhen/Chevalier)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959063

Fanfiction Summary: To the outside world of Elrios, the Steel Queen and the newly appointed Grand Duke Ishmael have announced their engagement. Many speculate it was love at first sight; in reality, they have merely forged a political alliance to stabilize their respective reigns. Ciel, aside from his typical obligations as Her Majesty’s knight, must ensure things go smoothly with the alliance. Yet upon meeting a peculiar fellow, he soon realizes the troubles surrounding the Grand Duke are more than they appear.

The countryside strolled past them as the horses walked along the old path. The last time Ciel saw a normal tree was years ago. The vegetation in the Demon Realm delved into shades of blue, purple, but never green. Alas, the atmosphere inside the carriage was less than desirable. Sir Bluhen sat across from Ciel. Meanwhile, Lu and the Grand Duke shared the carriage in front of theirs.

“Have I caught your eye?” Sir Bluhen smirked as he continued to gaze out from the small window.

“Why did you insist on this arrangement?”

“I think you’re quite special,” Sir Bluhen said.

“What do you mean?”

“I like you. A lot.” He turned to face Ciel and crossed his legs. “By the way, please call me Ainchase from now on. Ain is also fine.”

“...A fake name?”

“Bluhen is an alias.” Sir Ain chuckled. “I also don’t need even more strange looks from the priestesses.

“I see.”

“You’ve heard about the assassins from Richter, right? That’s where you come in. Your qualifications are quite good.”

“There must be a reason for not using one of your people to-“

“With the... enemy around, we have to resort to our own methods.”

Ciel raised an eyebrow. Sir Ainchase leaned back, smiling at Ciel’s expression.

“Regardless, we’ll be seeing each other more often.”

Ciel sighed before returning his attention to the outside.

***

In the textbooks, the capital city was drawn as a solemn figure, standing like a picturesque relic of history. As they neared the entrance, the landscape warped and proved those textbooks were incorrect. The supposed white walls, tall buildings, and a single tower were nowhere in sight. Instead, a strangeness encroached; part of the brilliant blue sky turned into something akin to peeling paint. Beneath such was a mixture of purple and black. The wrongness was neither a darkness, nor something Ciel saw from the Demon Realm.

“So you see it,” Sir Ainchase said. “That is the result of the enemy’s movements.”

“Surely you must have a good explanation.”

“Reality, space itself really, has been changed into a troublesome obstacle. Perhaps corrupted is a better word.”

“Then how will we pass through? Will we need to eventually fight this corruption?”

Sir Ainchase shook his head. “Hopefully, we can avoid such a situation. As for the former, just watch.”

Both carriages were brought to a halt; Ciel looked out the window. They were at the edge of a barrier made from distorted space. He heard of it before in the reports, but the spies still managed to infiltrate and gather intel. One of them even mapped out the possible entrances. Their current location, however, was not one of those supposed areas. The Grand Duke left his carriage and approached the barrier. Stopping before it, he raised his hand. A white, glass-like sword began to form. The sword’s elegance and distinct shape was unlike any blade Ciel had seen with his own eyes. With the blade, the Grand Duke cleaved the barrier. It cut through the warped space and created a passageway. The weapon dissipated, and he returned to his carriage.

“It’s a shame he has to do that every time,” Sir Ainchase commented.

Once the second carriage passed through, the space bended to seal the hole.

In the growing silence, Ciel recalled a previous conversation with Lu. It was one of their many discussions of how Grand Duke Richter was able to take control of the duchy. They had heard he owned a particular weapon: Fünft · Glänzendes Schwert, the Shining Fifth Sword. Its original wielder was a minor god who directly served Goddess Ishmael. To their dismay, the records only mentioned this minor god as the Divine Executor.

“Divine right certainly persuades a lot of people,” Lu had mused, setting aside her teacup. “Hence why Timoria’s backing from Angra Mainyu was used as a reason against my claim to the throne.”

Ciel skimmed the excerpt written on the document again. “‘I am the Judge who stands in the full light of Ishmael’s providence. To impose the Goddess’s will is my duty. Come forth, Fünft · Glänzendes Schwert,’” he read aloud.

Lu giggled. “How dramatic. Yet supposing such a thing does exist, I wonder how it shall do against our Sefirot Phantasma.”

“I shudder at the amount of cleanup I would have to do,” he had muttered.

Now, the two men regrouped with the Grand Duke and Lu. She flapped her wings and began to float off the ground.

“Is that how you will greet the priestesses?”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear anything, Grand Duke.”

Ciel swallowed his exasperation. “Your Majesty, please return to His Grace’s side. I doubt a lover’s quarrel will get us anywhere.”

She realized what he meant, scowled, then landed next to the Grand Duke. Lu held out her hand to him.

“Dear, may I ask you to be my escort for today?”

“I understand.” He took her hand in his own.

Sir Ainchase cleared his throat. “You two deal with the priestesses. Sir Ciel and I have our own date to do.”

He dragged Ciel in another direction, waving goodbye to the Grand Duke and Lu. Before Ciel could ask anything, Sir Ainchase began to explain the history of the duchy and various buildings. He pointed out services such as the alchemist, the blacksmith, an accessory shop. Ciel was thankful Sir Ainchase let go of his arm while they strolled. The marble statues, the canals, the gilded accents on the architecture were intricate. It had its charm, but Ciel preferred the Demon Realm or Lanox. The latter was a faded memory from his childhood, but he could never forget the smell of smoke or the crackling fires from the forges. He, Abysser, and Anular planned to visit that place again but never could set aside the time.

“...Sir Ciel?”

Ciel blinked, seeing Sir Ainchase’s perplexed look. “My apologies. What were you saying?”

“Would you like to see the Giant El?”

They had stopped at the entrance of the El Tower. The spies’ report mentioned a giant rock housed in the interior of this facility. Ciel scanned his surroundings. There was a lack of knights and servants even.

“For something so important, should you not have more personnel?”

“Unfortunately, I am the personnel. Don’t worry, the priestesses also have a duty of guarding the Giant El if I’m away.”

As they entered, a hooded figure was there to greet them. Dressed in golden and aquamarine garments, she bowed before Sir Ainchase.

“Welcome back.” Her voice was gentle like a flowing spring.

“Is everything going well, Lady Sasha?”

She nodded. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Who is this?”

Ciel bowed. “My name is Ciel, servant to Queen Luciela R. Sourcream.”

Sasha frowned when he said Lu’s name.

“Her Majesty is with Richter right now. Why don’t you meet them since I’m here now?” Sir Ainchase winked.

“All right. Please, excuse me.” She rushed off before casting another look at Ciel.

“Does she not like Demons?”

“I don’t know. Now then, this way.”

Ciel followed him, and several corridors later, they arrived in a single room. In the center was the Giant El. The crystal sat upon a floating pedestal-like object, surrounded by winged statues. A teal-whitish glow emanated from the Giant El; the color was similar to the Grand Duke’s hair.

Sir Ainchase gazed at the El. “I’m still in disbelief that Richter and I are still here.”

“How so?”

“Restoring the Giant El should have killed us. But as you can see, we’re still here.”

“If you do not mind me asking then, who or what saved you?”

“The Holy Creator, Elria. In exchange, I am his servant now.” Sir Ainchase shrugged. “Richter can enforce the Goddess’s will in my stead.” He turned his attention back to the El; the smile on his face did not quite reach his eyes. The beginning of a palpable solemness emerged from his shadow. 

“I see. Your gods are quite different from those in the Demon Realm.”

“...Let’s talk about your actual duties here. Formally speaking, you are Richter’s bodyguard. So when needed, you’ll be by his side. No different than protecting Her Majesty.” He paused. “Otherwise, you’ll act as an assistant to his advisor. His advisor, of course, being me.”

“I suppose we can figure out a schedule.”

“Right. So, our first mission. Since there’s only me, Richter, and the priestesses, we’re limited in terms of who can go where, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I’m quite concerned about the… lack of servants and guards.”

Sir Ainchase waved his hand in a dismissive fashion. “We don’t need more of them. What we need are the El Masters, the humans who should be actually guarding the Giant El.”

“I don’t think I can be of much help in training El Masters.”

“Oh, no, no, no. We’re going to be finding the El Masters.”

#elsword #elsword luciel #elsword ciel #cielain #ciel x ain #elsword ain #elsword ainchase #elsword bluhen #elsword chevalier

[iturbide]

@vitunhienokivi replied to your post: 

Anon what the hell?? "I personally do not like this consept, therefore you shouldn't write for it", is that seriously what you're saying? Kindly throw yourself into the nearest trash can! Also can I just say personally I'd be absolutely stoked to read a fic like this! Especially written by someone like you!!

Well my friend you are in luck because that is one of my current projects in progress!  A lot of Edelgard’s alarming rhetoric started showing up early, and I really feel like it would have been more interesting to have a hand in her path and potentially push back against her, rather than being forced to go along with everything.  So I decided to see what that would look like, and so far I personally think it’s pretty interesting -- though, I will confess that as the author, I’m probably biased. 

(cut for mild 3H spoilers)

Byleth remained unsure of just why they’d chosen to guide the Black Eagles.  It was not that more of them seemed to need support, for while Bernadetta’s reclusiveness was disconcerting, Marianne’s combination self-imposed isolation and extreme self-deprecation had been far more worrisome from the outset.  It was not that more of them needed guidance, either, for Linhardt’s disinterest in all but a handful of subjects paled in comparison to Felix’s hyper-combativeness and Sylvain’s excessive flirtation (in hindsight, they felt rather bad for Hanneman, who was stuck dealing with both of them).  And it was certainly not that any of them seemed better equipped for a mercenary’s teaching style, since Caspar’s enthusiasm for combat paled in comparison to Leonie’s drive to become a fighter in the style of Byleth’s own father. 

Perhaps it had been the odd feeling of the House as a whole.  Among the Golden Deer, the students were only passingly familiar with one another, but Claude himself seemed well suited to uniting them all with his noble status lacking any airs (even if it did spark the ire of his self-appointed rival).  Among the Blue Lions, by contrast, everyone had some kind of history with their fellow students, and all had collectively chosen to rally around Dimitri in some form or fashion (supportive or otherwise).  But from the moment they’d set foot in the Black Eagles classroom, they’d felt a kind of dissonance, for despite their familiarity with one another there was no harmony between them, and no one present seemed interested in changing that (while the one who might have been able had distanced herself from her classmates entirely).

The more they came to know of their students and the Empire’s history, the more it seemed like the Black Eagle House was an exact reflection of the country it represented.  Edelgard, despite her status as House Leader (and Imperial princess), was no more than a figurehead; her fellow students (most all heirs to the nobles that had wrested power from the present Emperor) pursued their own interests and agendas.  The disunity between them all only became more obvious with each month that passed: Edelgard walked among her classmates with Hubert as her ever-present shadow, but never truly connected with any of them, reaching out only rarely (and even then, only ever for House matters) and moving on without opening herself to them or allowing them to do the same...no wonder people found her unapproachable. 

They meant to talk with her about it.  Strange as this teaching appointment was, it felt like their duty to help her connect with the other students...and the sooner the better; should the Archbishop continue assigning such dangerous missions, such distance might one day prove fatal. 

Though the mist had long since vanished, Magdred Way remained dark and cold, all color leached from both the surroundings and the tight clusters of students and knights.  Byleth had not bothered to stay with Catherine while she ensured her target was dead; she had more than enough fellow soldiers with her to keep her safe, and they had more important matters to see to.  Weaving through the disordered ranks, they saw Hubert lurking alongside Caspar and Ferdinand, both looking nearly as pale and drawn as the Vestra heir; while the former showed interest in understanding Lord Lonato’s motives, his fellow students were far more shaken by the militia’s actions and loss of life, and Byleth wondered as they passed what they could say -- what they should say -- to explain it all when they knew too well how senseless it truly was.  The rest of the students huddled in the damp litter near the tree line, showing far more obvious signs of combat stress: Bernadetta had pulled her hood up over her head in a desperate attempt to hide, though it did nothing to soften her whimpered pleas to go home as she huddled in Dorothea’s arms (and for all the strength she tried to muster, the young songstress seemed to be clinging to her friend rather than comforting her); someone had been violently ill not far away, and all signs pointed to Linhardt, his head in his hands and his breathing still unsteady; while Petra stared blankly out at the dreary terrain, whispering something in a language they did not recognize.  

Only Dorothea looked up at their approach, nodding when Byleth indicated that they would be going soon and swiftly helping the other Eagles to their feet, guiding them toward the Knights without any prompting from her teacher.  Leaving her to it, they continued further out, until the sounds of the soldiers faded and only their own footsteps broke the heavy silence...and finally they joined the last of their students where she stood overlooking the recent battlefield. 

“Everyone was a bit shaken by the militia fighting alongside our enemies,” Edelgard remarked, her voice steady and calm in spite of the blood soaking her uniform. 

Byleth shrugged, lifting their hands when she glanced toward them.  <That is the reality of battle.>

The princess sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.  “If only everyone could face reality so unflinchingly.  The commoners who allied themselves with Lord Lonato believed they were fighting for a just cause.  It would be disrespectful to consider them simply victims when they died for what they believed in.”  Byleth nodded slightly, watching the rest of the students cluster together among the Knights’ ranks, a small island of black amid the silver sea.  “Still, we have no choice but to eliminate those who cling to unreasonable ideas of justice.  Even if our enemies are the gods themselves...we must never lose sight of our goal.” 

They glanced sidelong at her, puzzled by the grand scale of her conviction.  But then, Byleth had never been a religious sort, and the more they saw of this Seiros faith, the more it seemed that a fight would be necessary to change anything at all.

Edelgard seemed shocked when they nodded.  “I’m...surprised you feel that way.”  Silence fell again, heavy with words yet unspoken, and Byleth waited patiently for her to marshall her thoughts.  “...really, I’m just like Lonato,” she murmured.  “I, too, will be the sort of ruler who’s willing to risk the lives of my citizens in service of a higher cause.  It’s not possible to change the world without sacrifice.  Dying for the greater good is not a death in vain.”

Byleth stiffened, hands curling into tight fists at their sides.  But even as they turned toward the princess, they saw Catherine marching toward them at an alarming pace, and set aside their conversation to hear her out.

“Professor...I’m afraid this incident is far more serious than anticipated,” she announced, offering the slightly crumpled scroll she’d been carrying.  The seal had already been broken, they noted while Catherine continued on.  “I found this on Lord Lonato.  It’s a note that mentions a plan to assassinate Lady Rhea.  We can’t tell who sent it, so the source is suspect, but the content is too disturbing to ignore.  We must report this to Lady Rhea right away.  I hope that it’s nothing…”

Byleth nodded curtly, and the Holy Knight turned to ready the rest of the soldiers to depart...but once they were certain she would not turn (and would not see, even if she did), they reached out, stopping Edelgard from following. 

“Yes, my teacher?” the princess asked. 

They could rarely guess at their own expressions, for better or worse.  Often enough, they’d been told they lacked all emotion.  But they saw Edelgard’s brow knit in concern as they released her.  <If you think forfeiting the lives of your people is necessary for any reason, then you are not fit to rule.>

They did not wait for a response.  They merely followed in Catherine’s wake, seeking out the rest of their students and hoping they might find the words to help them in the wake of so much senseless death.

#replies #vitunhienokivi #fanfiction #fire emblem: three houses #byleth eisner #edelgard von hresvelg #basically we're taking the black eagles route and kicking it off the rails #pure wish fulfillment here #getting to say everything i really wanted to say #but that the game barred me from saying with limited dialogue options #it's gonna be fun #at least for me

[dear--charlie]

Dear Charlie,

I have decided to submit a second letter almost immediately following the first. The reason being is:

In my last letter I mentioned that I had met a boy. A boy who loves me for me. And I’ve been afraid to tell people how we got together, because I feel like it was a low-down/dirty thing. But at the same time, it wasn’t.

So, my babe and I actually met through… an ex. The first guy I started dating after my dating hiatus, he was a sweet kid. But, as E (my babe), likes to say “He’s a puppy. Short attention span, and no matter what, everywhere we go he has to sniff everyones butt”. He doesn’t mean it in a mean way necessarily. He means it more that the guy is very social. He’s very nice, he has to say hi to everyone in a room because that’s just his personality. He’s outgoing (people ask me all the time how we even dated, but that’s one of the biggest reasons we broke up). Anyways…

Because he’s so social this boy had wracked up tons of friends. And I mean a whole butt tonne. This boy knew people from all over our area, of varying age groups… Etc.

The first time I met E, was when my ex took me over to meet the older portion of his large group of friends. All were between 2-5 years older than me (my ex and I are same age so, also much older than him). But all super nice, super sweet and super accepting people. We met up at E’s place a few cities away from mine, and we decided to go to a beach relatively nearby. This was when my ex really introduced us. He introduced E as the guy with the "most amazing crazy ex stories". Out of curiousity, I wound up sitting next to E the entire time we were at the beach. We laughed, he told me some crazy stories, we drank a little. We had an incredible and laughter filled night off in our own little bubble. Barely anyone bothered us - not even my ex - and we clicked right away.

He left an impression that - years later - I couldn’t shake.

The next time I saw him was brief, very brief. My ex and I were getting ready to go on a camping trip and E was lending us his canoe. We wound up just going in (I know that sounds bad, but listen, his house is always unlocked and has a doors always open policy. Him and his family just ask you let them know you are there). I got to see his bedroom, see him shirtless. He was… He… Left an impression every time I saw the boy. He rolled out of bed, he helped us load the canoe. We barely spoke. But still. Damn.

The next time we met was at a bar. It was one of my exes birthday, and they were going out to a common hang out - but what was actually a shit hole - in a shit city. I was the DD so I couldn’t drink. My ex promised to stick with me, as public spaces fuck with my anxiety fueled brain. He promised, and as expected, once drunk, could not fulfill. He wandered off and couldn’t understand why I needed someone with me if I knew a lot of the people there already. But I did. It doesn’t matter if I had previously met them. What mattered was I barely knew them. But then, like a goddamn knight in shining armour, E pulls up beside me in the bar. He spends a good portion of the night with me. Striking up conversation, quelling my anxiety, playing pool with me. It was an amazing and fun night. One of the only nights I have ever been truly comfortable and able to enjoy myself at a bar while out with a large group.

But suddenly, I went to grab a soda, and E was gone. He had gone out for a smoke and came back with a determination to avoid me. I wondered all night if I had done something wrong, if I had flirted (which would have been wrong), or said something wrong or did something inappropriate. (I later found out none of this was the case, to a degree. He told me he realized that at the bar he was behaving more like my bf than my actual bf and had a sneaking suspicion that I may have been coming onto him. So he backed off.)

The next time I saw him was at my exes birthday party. Which, was a similar situation, again, to a degree. Same thing, party, drunk people, lots of noise. Tons of anxiety and people I didn’t know. But this time, we were at his house. So I could have easily snuck off and took some alone time. But I couldn’t. My ex - super social, super prone to leaving me hanging high and dry while he wandered off to greet people and strike up conversations with his friends - was annoyed that I seemed to be putting a damper on the evening my disappearing. His friends would notice that I was gone and ask him things about my location and whatnot. And he would come in and find me, more annoyed every time.

E found me eventually and had me sitting under the canopy for a long while discussing movies and his lack of viewing of cinematic classics. To the point where it annoyed my ex that we were talking so much. He pulled me apart from E, and proceeded to give E dirty looks the rest of the night. Every time E and I would start to talk, there was my ex breathing down my neck, looking for any opportunity to enter the conversation and throw us off each other. It almost worked.

The last time before we actually got together that I was E was NYE 2016. My ex wanted to go to E’s annual NYE party*. I was okay with that. I knew I was likely to be left alone by my ex, but that didn’t bother me. This was a party, that specifically E was throwing. So I knew he was going to be there, and I was honestly excited.

In true puppy fashion, overexcited by the large crowd of people, my ex immediately went to do what he does best, sniff peoples butts. He wandered the whole party, and I was expecting as much. I felt overwhelmed at first, but then found E and found comfort in hogging his attention. E made me drinks all night long, let me bum around, made great conversation. He made me feel comfortable. My ex only showed up every once in awhile, simply to drive a wedge between E and I. I don’t blame him, I never did. I wasn’t cheating, but I might as well have been. I found myself thinking of E as my ex and I fell kissed at midnight and I found myself wondering what it would be like to be kissing him instead.

We fell asleep, the next day… I wish I would have known that that would have been my last time seeing him in… years.

Jump forward to July of 2019. From January of 2017 till now, E would pop into my head every once in awhile. As I said before, he made an impression. I would think of his blonde hair, his blue eyes, his charming smile, endless patience… I would think of him as a whole, and I would find myself smiling. I had no real reason to, but even just the thought of the boy made me smile. I found myself…. Smitten by a boy I never even got to kiss.

During the years, I kept up with my ex. We talked every once in awhile. We weren’t friends but we were definitely present in each others lives. We would congratulate one another on stuff, would catch up every once in awhile… He would ask me to sleep with him or join a threesome with him and his new lady because they have an open relationship.

I tried hard for a long time to push E out of my head. Just because my ex and I still spoke, doesn’t mean he would be okay if I asked for E’s number. I didn’t ever think he would be. And I could never figure out what I was going to say if I did start talking to E outside of the confines of social gatherings through my ex. I let sleeping dogs lie. Tried to push him out, tried to move on. But still, I constantly found myself thinking of those baby blues, and those big… soft… lips… And I found myself often just thinking of or hearing his name and grinning like a doofus.

There was a moment, in the beginning of July, where I was driving to work and… There he was. In my head, smiling, baby blues watching me contently. I was in a place where… mentally I had stopped caring about a lot. I found myself thinking to myself… Well, it’s been 2 years or more even. Nothing could hurt asking for his number. The worst ex could do is say no. So there I was. On instagram, asking my ex how E was doing, and if I could have his number.

I reached out to E through text - despite my exes warnings he might not text back - and asked if it was weird I had reached out? I claimed I just wanted to be friends and get to know him, because he used to be the kind of people I wanted to surround myself with. And that’s not a lie! I do enjoy people like him, and feel my life would be considerably better with people like him. He said it was no problem as he often wondered similar things - how I was doing, what I had been up to, how life was treating me. I asked if he wanted to hang out that weekend.

He said he would be home all weekend, and if I wanted to come around on literally any day I was more than welcome to.

I went on Friday evening. He came out looking awkward, shy and adorable. Hands in pockets as he watched me carefully. We went in, it was just him and I. He offered me a drink. I looked as cute as humanly possible.

“Hey, E?”

“Yeah?”

“When would be an ideal time to tell you I had some ulterior motive to coming here tonight?”

“Now? I guess?” He watched me carefully, hesitantly. Sipped on his drink, put it down, and did one of his nervous ticks - which was tightly intertwining his fingers together.

“I came over here because I kind of have a crush on you. I think I have since I was dating ex. And I wanted to see if you felt the same way.”

And he breathed a sigh of relief. See, it was kind of shitty for us to admit, but during the course of my relationship with my ex we clicked. Really clicked. We were genuinely interested in one another. Conversation flowed smoothly, we always laughed, had fun, and he helped with my anxiety a lot.

Both of us were worried as to how my ex would react to us asking for the others number. We weren’t sure if he would swiftly grow to hate us because of the feelings we had pushed down for so long.

E has been single for 8 years, so for him to find someone worth his time is extremely surprising to everyone. I make him happy, and vice versa. So none of his friends - not even my ex - have been judging us or upset with us or looking down at us.

He’s everything I could have asked for and more though. Honestly. He cooks, cleans, hosts me all weekend. Is kind, caring and loving. He is good and patient with me, with my anxiety and depression as well.

It took us two years to get back to one another. And honestly, I think a lot of his friends knew before we did. But it took 2 years, and I genuinely believe that over those two years I had grown to love him in a weird part of my heart. In a big, unused part that felt designated for him, and only him. Now, it just feels like we are playing catch up.

Thanks for listening again Charlie. Sorry for the two letters in one day. I hope no one judges me for this.

Love always,

V

P.S *E throws a NYE party every year. Usually he invites all his friends, and they’re allowed to bring any lonely hearts with them too. His parents are usually somewhere around, sometimes even more of his family too. This is what impresses me… Ready? He makes homemade stuffed crust pizza, he acts as bartender and gives drinks to everyone and anyone. He acts as a kind a gracious host. But, you check your keys at the door. You hand them over. And at the end of the night - after midnight - when you’re good and wasted, there’s somewhere to sleep for you in that house. To avoid the drunk driving. Everyone stays if they drink. No negotiation. In the morning, he gets up and makes everyone breakfast. You help by cleaning up your sleeping area, and help with the tidying up a little. It’s a fantastic NYE tradition, and I’m so happy to help set up, clean up and host this year!

#dear charlie #V

[kallypsowrites]

A Compilation of all 8x02 Braime Moments

I know I’ve already made a million posts about Braime in this episode, but Imma just make a list of all the little Braime MOMENTS in this episode, scene by scene, cause I’m trash and I want to put all of my gushy, shippy thoughts in one place.

First of all, a little background: I started watching this show all the way back before season three and season three was the first I watched lived. I was in high school then, and naturally, I started shipping Braime pretty hard. It has been six years since then, and this relationship really is one of my favorites in anything I’ve ever read. It’s important to me. And this episode is validation for so many things I’ve been saying for years.

So let’s dive the fuck in.

1. Brienne defends Jaime

- Jaime looks at Brienne as he quotes her because he wants her to know that he listened and he is here because of her

- Brienne stands in front of him, putting herself between him and Dany, like he put himself in between her and the Bolton men and her and the bear.

- When defending him, Brienne points out that the two things most important about him to her: is that he protected her from being raped (and lost a hand because of it) and kept his oath to Catelyn Stark.

- Jaime keeps his eyes down cast because he feels unworthy of her defense.

- When Brienne says she would fight next to him, he glances at her in something like awe. It’s the most pathetic puppy eyed expression I’ve ever seen

- When everyone is leaving, he immediately looks for her as she leaves the room. She looks at him but walks away, not knowing what to say. This is a difficult relationship to start up again

2. Jaime and Tyrion on the battlements

- Jaime and Tyrion talk about Cersei and leaving behind their family at length in this scene. But in the middle of Tyrion talking about Cersei, Jaime is distracted by Brienne and walks straight away from the conversation to just fucking stare at her. As if to say that he is more concerned with admiring Brienne than discussing Cersei.

- Tyrion follows and notices Jaime staring. It’s fucking adorable.

3. Jaime and Brienne in the courtyard

- They call each other ‘ser Jaime’ and ‘lady Brienne’ both names that they refused each other at the beginning of their relationship which they now embrace

- Jaime compliments Brienne’s work with Podrick as well as her strategic abilities. He’s being genuine and wants to communicate that he respects her

- Brienne distrusts Jaime’s lack of insults but he refuses to delve into insults. He is very much changed.

- The awkward shifting from foot to foot because he just doesn’t know how to express his feelings

- The long fucking pause after ‘I came to Winterfell because...’ He should have just dropped an I love you right there.

- The cut to her face as she stares at him, waiting for the answer

- Jaime not only asks to fight beside Brienne but UNDER her, which shows how much he respects her. He is willing to humble himself before her just to let her know that he cares

- She speechlessly agrees because she has never had any man want to FOLLOW her command, especially not this man who she loves.

- Brienne’s ‘I better get back’ because this is too much for her and Jaime looking after her for like five solid seconds. So many long lingering camera shots.

4. The strategy meeting

- Brienne and Jaime are right next to each other the whole time and often framed together

- Brienne continues to look vaguely disgusted by Tormund’s advances

5. Drinking buddies

- Jaime says his ‘golden lion days are over’ as if saying that he is never going back to his old life with Cersei. He is moving forward

- Jaime and Tyrion cheers to ‘self betterment’ and Brienne walks in RIGHT AFTERWARD because SHE IS JAIME’S SELF BETTERMENT

- Jaime fucking JUMPS to his feet when he notices her, stuttering out ‘my lady’ which I’m pretty sure is the first time he has called her ‘my lady’ as opposed to ‘lady Brienne’ or anything else.

- Tyrion’s FACE. Tyrion goddamn KNOWS. He sees his brother’s smitten face and is like, oh damn, he’s got a crush on someone who isn’t Cersei. Fucking incredible.

- Jaime pulls her up a chair!! And insists she stay!!

- It’s after Jaime offers that she smiles just a bit and accepts because she clearly wants to be around him

- He stays behind the chair until she sits THEN takes his seat

- Tyrion gives Brienne a drink with a very happy look on his face like ‘hey, you my brother’s new girlfriend? I like you. I like how you’re so not Cersei. We’re going to be friends.’

- When Tormund arrives, he IMMEDIATELY identifies Jaime as a potential rival for Brienne’s affections

- Jaime looks at Brienne for most of Tormund’s weird story, as if wondering ‘do I have competition? Is she into it? Oh good, I don’t think she’s into it’.

- Really, Tormund is principally used as a prop to advance Jaime and Brienne’s relationship and I’m truly glad. Tormund’s admiration of Brienne can be creepy at times, cute at others, but it’s not prioritized over the real relationship

6. A Knight of the Seven Goddamn Kingdoms

I got a big old list for this one cause holy shit

- The admiring look Jaime gives Brienne when she says ‘at least we’ll die with honor’.

- Jaime watching Brienne during the ‘women can’t be knights’ conversation, not quite realizing the power he has to knight her but still respecting the hell out of her

- Jaime realizing, once Tormund mentions that he would knight her if ‘he was a king’ that HE’S a knight and HE can do it

- “Oh, you would knight her if you could? Well I CAN fucking knight her. Hold my wine”

- The loud ‘clack’ as he just slams his mug down like ‘I’m DOING this bitches. I’m going to knight my wife’.

- Jaime strolling confidently over and drawing his sword and telling Brienne to kneel with maximum confidence. That was fucking hot.

- Brienne’s bitter smile because she doesn’t think he’s serious and thinks he must be joking because this would be too good to be true and she’s settled for never being truly respected for what she is.

- The way Jaime’s voice softens when he asks her to kneel the second time to let her know that he is serious.

- The way Brienne looks to Podrick first, then Jaime for reassurance and they both give her an encouraging nod. They are both important to her but Jaime is the last person to give her the nod that drives her to stand

- The way she slowly rises, never taking her eyes off Jaime, hesitating because she’s still expecting it to be a joke. They linger so long on this shot and you FEEL it.

- Jaime fidgeting with his sword because he’s actually really nervous about getting this right because he respects her so much and he knows that she deserves the best and he doesn’t feel worthy to bestow this honor upon her. Also, notice that Brienne looks down at his hand right before that shot so she notice’s it.

- The gentle way he speaks the ceremony and the soft expression on both of their faces and the tears in Brienne’s eyes and the way he focuses the most on the ‘defend the innocent’ part because that’s what Brienne has always been best at.

- “Arise, Brienne of Tarth. A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms”

- He’s so proud when he speaks those words. So fucking proud.

- And she stands with tears in her eyes and she gives the softest little smile and he stares at her like she’s a goddamn angel

- The others start applauding but they keep staring at each other for about three seconds before Jaime startles out of his haze like ‘oh...other people are here. Right’. For a moment they were the only two people in the world.

- This really seems to be the moment that they both realize they love each other. Brienne has known for awhile but has been fighting it. And Jaime has been in denial. But now, Brienne seems to stop fighting it and Jaime comes to the realization and god its so beautiful

- Tyrion congratulating Brienne with a toast because he already loves his brother’s new girlfriend so much

- Brienne looking back at Jaime again, even more tears and even more smiling, because she’s so thankful

- That little nod Jaime gives her as if to say ‘no worries. it was nothing’ when it was EVERYTHING

- That big smile on Brienne’s face. God she’s so perfect and wonderful. Such an angel. I love her.

7. Jenny’s Song

- During Podrick’s song, the camera pans from Brienne to Jaime as it says ‘and the one who had loved her the most’ and I melt.

I know this is a long list and a lot of it is about small details but this comes from the tremendous subtlety in the writing and acting. Nik and Gwen are stunning and their chemistry off the charts. I don’t know how ANYONE can watch these scenes and not see how in love with each other they are.

Anyway, I love them, so I hope you enjoyed me obsessing. And if you didn’t and you don’t ship them, I don’t know how you got this far reading this post lol. Braime forever!

#game of thrones #got spoilers #game of thrones season 8 #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #braime #tyrion lannister

[ganymedesclock]

Hollow Knight: A Sunless World

I’ve been thinking more about my theory that the world in Hollow Knight is actually just all wasteland, whose habitable zones are caused exclusively by Higher Beings of some form or another.

First, it’d actually explain the bugs- everything we see in Hollow Knight has a pretty hard cap upper size limit, with things getting significantly rarer the bigger they get. Deepnest is positively awash in tiny bugs and spiders, lumaflies are predominant throughout the kingdom, but comparatively, in the entire game, Bardoon is the largest NPC and he’s pretty much participating alone in his size category. 

Judging by his shed carcass, the original form of the Pale King was the only thing that pushed that further- but the overwhelming trend seems to suggest that the world of Hollow Knight is a world limited by lack of some crucial resource.

Godseeker calls Hallownest a land “rich in gods” the way a potential settler might talk about water-rich land. And the Godseekers in question, we know, lost their gods, implicitly to death (the main one talks up how the gods of Hallownest will “never die”) and this seems to have been a traumatic event that called for multiple desperate measures to survive it. The mask we see from “a godless land” is battered, worn, and seems instrumental to the peculiar means of survival the Godseekers settled on, reducing their body count to just one by preserving all others inside the dream of their strongest and most able to travel.

There’s really not a lot of flora in Hallownest- mostly just the curling, white-glowing mushrooms and patches of grass, and the whispering roots that seem more a magical growth than a true plant. The two most verdant areas in the game are Greenpath and the Queen’s Garden, and they have something in common- both are extremely close to living gods. In the White Lady’s case, we even see her roots twine through the the cave around her. 

I’ve seen people air the theory that White Lady resembles a fungus that might have a symbiotic relationship with plant life, and her Garden is thus able to flourish specifically by coexisting with her mycelium in the soil. Calling it a “garden” does imply that someone tended it and installed these plants.

And in Greenpath, tablets mention both that Greenpath became this way because “the greater mind once dreamed of leaf and cast these caverns so”, and also, a plea to Unn that sounds quite a bit like the Godseekers’ lament:

Hidden Unn, we need you now.

We grow tired away from you.

Our leaves are falling.

Unn is also, according to the Godseeker, a god losing her power. This is interesting because if you compare Unn to basically all of the other higher beings? All of the others glow. Unn doesn’t. Her prodigious size and the way that she is able to call to others seems to suggest that. Based on the acid- seemingly her creation, as she’s located squarely in the largest deposit of it- her glow would be a pale green, but she has misty, shiny eyes like the White Lady and her body is dark.

Comparatively, Deepnest- who is stated to have kept Hallownest and its king at arm’s length? Is the darkest environment in the game and full of a lot of highly opportunistic predators. Even the self-aware and uninfected beasts seem much freer with eating sapient bugs than anyone else in Hallownest- Willoh’s unfortunate lunch and the nature of the trap in the Beast’s Den seem to operate in a framework that assumes you will not be eaten by someone you can hold a conversation with. Which makes sense, since the bug / beast divide seems to be the separation between insects and arachnids, the latter of which eats the former all the time in the insect world.

Midwife’s comment about “the most intelligent species” could even suggest some cognitive lines drawn around it- “but of course, we aren’t cannibals, here- we only eat lesser people.”

But to me, the most damning indicator of this is...

Hallownest doesn’t have a sun.

Precious little of the world takes place under the open sky, but the sky over the Howling Cliffs and over Dirtmouth is unfailingly the same dull twilight color, with swirling clouds, even drifting snow. The Pale King claims that the wastes will cause people to lose their mind, but there seems no indication of that- people pass through the wastes all the time in both directions. What seems more accurate is that the wastes are vast, and seemingly, dark and with almost nothing to stop the wind, so that the cliffs that shelter Dirtmouth are described as, well, howling with the sound of the wind.

Even those as adventurous as Quirrel find this wind and sky disturbing- if dreamnailed in the Crystal Peak:

...These winds cry lonely. Better the comfort of rock above one's head.

But if there’s no sun at all, then, there’s a good question of how anything lives at all- especially plants, that need light.

Of course, you wouldn’t need a sun, if you had something else providing light for you, right? Something like the luminous, shining Higher Beings?

But the system isn’t perfect. Higher Beings can fade. Their worshipers can outlive them- hence the Godseeker, desperately wandering in search of a new sun. And even if they live, the habitable zones around them are much smaller than a sun warming an entire planet. It’s likely that the only reason Grimm’s Troupe can travel so easily is because of the protection of their divine troupe master making it easier to brave the wastes by casting his habitable zone around him. After all, at least according to his ultimate dream nail fight, only half of Grimm is in his body- the nightmare heart remains, beating serenely in the very fabric of the main tent. The macabre “sun” of the troupe’s cloth sky.

Sure, you might say, but, the Shade Lord doesn’t seem to give off any light- logically they couldn’t preserve or nurture as the Radiance they usurped did.

Thing is- there’s life that lives in sunless places.

Clustered around thermal vents at the bottom of the ocean.

The Abyss is characterized as an eldritch sea; the Shade Lord wouldn’t need to be bright, if they are instead warm, and able to radiate elements needed for life. But the habitable field they, and seemingly their predecessor the Blackwyrm, radiated would be pretty peculiar, by the standards of what lay above them.

But this would also dovetail beautifully with HK’s motif of ‘creepy crawlies’- parasitism and symbiosis are basically facts of the world of small animals- while it’s hedged in a lot of rhetoric of divinity and royalty, Hallownest’s hierarchy seems in many ways bound by the trappings of ecosystem more than sociology.

#Hollow Knight #readmore

[fernwehbookworm]

Knight of Kandor- Chapter 2

It took nearly a fortnight to make our way to Kandor. The army had been deep in disputed border lands. Luckily some of my training included map reading and navigation when I began to show promise for command. I had never been to Krypton's capital city so I had to rely on that training to get us there. When we crested the last hill, I made us halt for the night, looking down on the flatlands that surrounded the walls.

"But there is plenty of light to make it before dark." John protests, no doubt hoping for an actual bed.

"I have never been to court, but I plan on doing it without weeks of travel and dirt on myself and my horse." John dismounts, I don't and he looks up at me questioningly.

"Start setting up camp. I am going to the stream we passed at the bottom of the hill. When I return you will go and bathe also." He nods and begins unloading the cart attached to his horse.

My horse makes the easy decent quickly. The sun was still high in the sky when I reached the stream. The stream was deep and the water still cool despite the heat of summer. I find a place where trees and undergrowth live close to the water. I unsaddle comet and allow my beautiful white horse to wade into the stream to drink. I strip myself and grab the bar of soap I made sure to keep in my saddle bags. I made it a point to seek out soap makers in major towns we passed near on campaign. I wade into the water next to Comet, where it comes up to my waist. I wash my hair and body, feeling the dirt and dust wash away in the slow-moving current. It felt so damn good. Then I wash my wrapping and tunic, laying them both on a flat rock to dry in the sun. I grab my wooden travel bowl from the saddles and use it to shovel water onto Comets back. By the end, I barely have enough soap left to hold. I make a mental note to search the capitol for some when I get the chance.

I lead Comet back to the shore so he can dry himself. I dress in spare clothing that are loose and little used but will do for tonight. Using fresh straw in the saddlebags, I rub Comet down to dry him. Saddled, I walk beside him back up the hill to see how John is doing.

John has done a lot. Both of our tents are erected, a fire burns hot between them, and his own horse is groomed and tied to a tree so it can graze on the lush hillside grass. I hand John the last of the soap and he descends the hill on foot. I tie Comet with John's horse and unsaddle him. I find my bow in my tent and descend the opposite side of the hill in search of game. We had dried meat and hard loaves but I wanted something more filling.

Within an hour I manage to kill a rabbit, a clean shot through its eye. I make my way back to the fire and have the rabbit cleaned and roasting on a spit before John returns. I leave John to tend the meat and dig out the rest of our rations for an actual meal. I compose my last letter to the Prince from the isolation of my tent. Letting him know we arrived at the city and that this would be my last report to him. I had sent letters during our travel as John and I stopped in various towns. I would have him send the last when we arrived tomorrow.

When I emerge again I see that John actually fetched water and was making a thin soup with the fresh meat, a few shrunken vegetables, and the rest of the dried meat. He had the dry loaves ready to soak up the broth. However, the boy had wits enough to keep some of the fresh meat out of the thin broth. John rolled a log to either side of the fire for seats. He hands me a leg being kept warm on a flat rock near the flames.

I give John a small approving nod and sit with him. I had learned early to hide my emotions, allowing almost nothing but battle rage to break my calm exterior. John now sought out these small gestures once he learned it was the only approval he would ever receive from me. After the leg, I have a small bowl of soup and one of the three hard rolls. I let the growing boy eat the rest. Then I send him to bed and take first watch while I polish my armor. I hadn't worn the full plate mail since leaving the army an I was starting to feel nervous. I had some training on how to conduct myself around royalty and had spent time with the Prince, but proper conduct was very loose surrounded by men on a killing field.

I wake John for his watch and sleep restlessly for a couple hours. Then, like always, I dress myself in full armor for our arrival. John was disappointed his first few weeks as my squire. when he arrived to find me dressed without his assistance, but soon he came to accept it with every one of my other quirks. I believe that he thought it was my low birth and lack of a formal education.

We move about the camp in a comfortable silence. A rhythm that only people who had spent a year traveling together could have. We reach the moat surrounding the city before noon. The city was in a large flat valley, surrounded by grasslands and rolling hills. The river cut through the land on the west side of the city. Any attackers would be completely exposed long before reaching the outer wall and moat. The moat closes at sunset each night, which is part of the reason I stopped early the day before.

Soldiers halt us before we cross the bridge. After presenting them with the parchments from both prince and Queen, riders are sent ahead and soldiers fell in alongside us. The capital city was sectioned off in four concentrate circles of walls. Each wall rose taller than the one before, the castle on the crest of the hill in the center of the city. The guard changed at each new gate. Obviously status and money increased at each new level of the city. The sun was sitting low in the sky by the time we reached the final gate. Crowds pressed in about us, barely moving out of the way for the armored men shoving through, as they finish their shopping and business for the day.

The final gate groans open in front of us. The doors were easily taller than me five times over. Each took two large plow horses on the other side to pull open. I was beginning to realize the castle was a fortress and also how hard it would be for an assassin to breach the walls. From my short education, I knew the castle had never been taken in its history. Most sieges could barely pass the outer wall of the city.

In the large cobblestone courtyard, young stable hands took our horses and our latest vanguard led us into one of the biggest building I have ever seen. I refused to look up because I knew whatever I saw would break my calm composure. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see John's head craned back, mouth gaping. I adjust the baldric over my shoulder and lift the hilt slightly to check and see if it was clear of the scabbard, a nervous tick that I could not kick. I focus on the back of the guard in front me, refusing to be impressed or allow my low birth to show. In my peripheral vision, I see us pass through a grand entrance hall, down a large corridor, and stop in front of a large oaken door. Guards on either side pull them open so we can file through. Our steps echo loudly in the large open room. Tapestries hang the length of the room bearing the royal families crest. A black diamond-like shield on a field of emerald green. Emblazoned on the shield is an ornate letter L embossed in gold.

Two thrones sat on a platform, one clearly larger and more ornate than the other. Around the thrones stood a few men and women, richly dressed and standing tall. Each one, however, was put to shame by the women sitting in the middle of them. On the more ornate throne was the Queen. A cold power emanated from her. My knees grew weak at the gaze of her dark eyes. I felt like she could see all of me, my deepest secrete. They trapped me and I could not look anywhere else because I feared if I did she would expose me.

"Presenting Sir Kal El Ward. Sworn knight of the Prince, Protector of the Queen-in-waiting. " The page announces, his voice carrying easily and surely in the large room. I kneel, now formally introduced, and bow my head. I feel every eye in front of and behind me searing against my skin.

"Rise, Sir Ward." An emotionless voice says above me. It is sharp and clear but leaves me on edge. I do as the Queen bids, drawing back to my full height, chin held proudly upward. I meet the cold azure eyes that bore into my own. I have to force my face to remain expressionless while the queen examines me in the silence of the hall.

"You were not born to be a knight," she states, I fear my voice would betray so I simply nod.

"But you have bested all the men serving my son and proven your worth time and time again." I nod.

"All with no formal education, only the necessary skills needed for command." Another nod.

"Which is why you fear to speak." The last question catches me off guard. I clear my throat and finally open my mouth to speak.

"Yes, your majesty." I choose the safest most formal address I knew. The corner of the queen's mouth twitch, betraying her amusement.

"Good, he can speak. That will make this much easier. You are expected to learn everything you need for court while protecting my daughter, your future queen." At the mention of the Queen-in-waiting, I finally look at her.

My mouth goes dry and my heart thuds in my ears. Her eyes are so green and sharp that I feel them pierce into my soul. Behind the coldness in them is an emotion I cannot quite decipher. Was it resentment, hate, or maybe even just indifference? The sharp features of her face are framed by wavy hair, as black as raven's wings. She wore a green dress that perfectly matched her eyes and the color of the Luthor coat of arms. She sits with her back rigid and no emotion in her features. I see her make a small movement that I take for a nod and return my gaze to the queen with some trouble. Breath fills my lungs again that I did not know I had lost.

"Now for your tutors. You will spend every morning before daybreak with a different one. Lady Catherine will teach you proper court behavior, manners, and whatever else she sees fit. Master Winslow will see to your reading and lettering. Sir James is our Master at Arms and will continue your training. Every fourth morning you will report to me with your tutors to review your progress."

As Queen Lillian spoke each name, the person belonging to it gave a nod. Lady Catherine was a stick of a woman, her face hard and hair pulled back in an intricate braid. She looked like a proud woman, one I should never cross. Master Winslow was a small, pale man with light brown hair. A smile barely kept from his face was enough to show me someone who loved his job. Sir James was a dark-skinned man, head shaved close to the scalp, his armor the green of the Luthor's with the crest emblazoned on the chaste plate. Suddenly I am aware of how damaged and cheap my own armor is. Sir James seemed just as happy as Master Winslow but was better able to hide it.

"Now Sir James will inform you of our safety measures and familiarize you with the castle and surrounding grounds."

Sir James descends the platform, stops next to me, and turns back to face the group he just left. He bows, I follow his lead, just a breath behind. The Queen dismisses us with a wave of her hand and I follow the master at arms out of the hall.

We walk briskly through the castle, even so, the tour takes up the rest of the day remaining. Sir James talking the whole time, bothered by the one-sided conversation. Torches are being lit when we finally reach a dead end hallway. The entrance to it is guarded by two men on either side. At the end of the hallway is another large double door, on one side is a smaller door.

"That is your room, right across from the princesses. Sorry, Queen-in-waiting. I watched that girl grow up and I am still not used to the new title. She turned twenty-five but to me, she is still five years old running around the castle barefoot." he seems to realize what he just said and clears his throat.

"Be at Lady Catherine's personal chambers tomorrow morning. After that, you will start your duties, send your squire to me if you require guidance. I will also help you in our own sessions. Dinner will be severed in an hour in the lesser hall." Without a further word he turned and left.

I open the door to my new home. My belongings are already at the foot of my bed in the small chamber. John must have been the one to bring it up because nothing is unpacked and he knows I do not like my stuff touched. I throw the bolt on the door and make a mental note to have something stronger put in place. I began loosening the straps on my armor and placing it carefully on the bed. I find a washbasin in the corner and smile at the warm water, meaning John had it heated for me. He knew how much I hated being dirty, I spent much more of my pay than I should have on those soaps I love. It was a luxury not many could afford or would try to. I had no more now but I stripped completely and used the soft cloth to wash the sweat and dirt from my body.

I dressed in my bust tunic and boots, well best of the three I owned. I descended to the hall that Sir James had shown me earlier. I sat in a corner and a serving girl placed a plate laden with food in front of me. I pick at the rich fair that is almost too much for my stomach. I grew up on plain food and lived on army rations since I was fourteen, I feared the rich food would make me ill. Instead, I pick up my tankard of ale and watch the hall while I sip it slowly. I watch interactions of the people in the room. Most the men are loud and boisterous, the women fair and flirting. I felt a stranger looking on a different world.

Suddenly my view was blocked by a grinning, bright-eyed, man. My eyes focus on Master Winslow's face and I stare unblinkingly back. Some of the eagerness leaves his face at my expressionless features but he speaks anyways.

"I cannot believe you are actually here. Rumors of your deeds of valor have reached us even this far north. I mean, I can not find any other account of a peasant boy rising so high and so quickly. I should know, I am the court scribe and bookkeeper. I have read thousands of reports and..." He trails off at the lack of reactions from me.

"You are a very serious man." I nod. Somehow he finds this funny and laughs.

"I think I am going to like teaching you." I stand and look down at him.

"Goodnight, Master Winslow."

"Winn," he says and I give him a questioning look.

"My friends call me Winn."

I nod and leave, my feet growing heavier with every step on my way back to my room. I throw the bolt and quickly strip and fall into bed. It was the softest thing I had ever felt and I fell quickly into a deep sleep.

I watched the blond man's back as he left with James. The rest of our party left shortly after the two knights. Leaving me alone with mother and my two guards.

"I do not need another guard mother. I do not even wish to have the ones already I do." I say icily.

"I do not care what you wish. An attempt was made on your life and this constant cycle of guards is dangerous, hence the personal guard. Not only that, a guard who has fought our enemy, who has learned how they think and gone above and beyond to defeat them. Sir Kal has proven his worth so you will be protected by him. Now return to your ladies. Tomorrow night will be a feast welcoming the war hero home." Queen Lillian leaves no room to protest as she purposefully strides out of the room.  Leaving me in an empty hall with only the silent guards. Lillian Luthor had a way with long-winded speeches that did not let the other person respond.

I sigh and head to the sitting room where I know my ladies-in-waiting were anticipating my return. Planning the feast fell to us so the room becomes a flurry of activity. Pages are sent out to invite Dukes, Earls, and anyone else with any remote royal standing or titles. Most the ladies leave to set about the necessary tasks such as decor, entertainment, and food. I am left with the one person I trust fully and the guards standing just outside the door. She is the only friend I have too. Jessica continues to work on the embroidery in her hands, a bandage still wrapped around her palm. It slows her movements and causes her to wince occasionally. I sit and stare into the fire. The stillness of the room and the soft cracking of the flames cause my thoughts to wonder.

Jess and I were walking through the royal gardens. They were closed to all but those of the royal court. She was babbling on about some knight in the army that was rumored to have fought through twenty men to each the Prince, who was surrounded with only his squire to protect him. It all sounded so embellished and ridiculous but Jessica was ecstatic so I nodded and smiled and made all the approving sounds a friend should.  Around the bend in the path, a tall figure appears. I nearly run into the man but draw up just short. Jessica stops next to me as well, her feet at the same time as her mouth.

"Jackson!" I exclaim, a grin spreading across my face. His expression matches mine. He takes my hand and bows to place a soft kiss on the back of it.

"My lady, we have talked about this. Please call me Jack." Jack's hand lingers in mine just a moment too long but the feel of his skin sends heat through my entire body. From the corner of my eye, I see Jessica step back a little as Jack transfers my hand to his arm and begin to walk the way he came. Jessica stays a few steps behind us as we stroll arm and arm through my favorite place in the castle. The gardens were always so peaceful and one of the few places I could be myself without prying eyes of gossiping servants and members of the court.

We walk down the path, I point out different plants and each time Jack whispers that it isn't as beautiful as me, my smile grows with each compliment. I had known the man since we were children. His family lived in the southernmost lands of Krypton but Jack and his father were often at court. We knew it was purposeful, our parents conspiring to have us married but we were both fine with that. He was the tall dark and handsome type that every woman swooned for. A strong jaw covered by a well-groomed dark beard. Dark eyes that never strayed from mine even when surrounded by fawning women. Jack always danced with me and no other at any feast or celebration. I knew one day soon he would ask my mother's permission to marry me.

We stopped just short of the door that led back to the castle. The gardens were nestled in the courtyard surrounded by the sprawling walls of my home. The only entrance was where we stood, guards posted on the other side of the door. Jack turns toward me and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His hand rests on my cheek. I know what comes next. It had never gone further than a kiss but I always craved more. Jack refused me only to claim the defense of my honor. I close my eyes and lean into him.

My head snaps to the side as my shoulder hits the door hard. A scream rips through the air and when my vision focuses again I see Jessica standing over me. She grips the blade of a knife that Jack pulls back from her grasp, causing it to slice deeper into her flesh. Another cry escapes her lips. Jack roughly pushes the brave, stupid, girl to the side.

"I am sorry Lena. But they have my family. If I do this they will let them live and grant us lands and titles in Cadmium."

I do not even have time to think of a response before the loud thunk of metal hitting flesh and bone. Jack crumples and Sir James appears behind him, fist still extended from his own downward strike to Jack's head.

"That's Queen-in-waiting to you." James pulls me to my feet and guards outside the door follow him in.

"My lady? My lady?" a hand on my shoulder shakes me from my dark thoughts. Jessica of course.

"My lady, it is time to dress for supper." I nod and allow her to lead me to my rooms. I nod and allow her to lead me to my rooms.

A man exits the only other room in the hall. He was dressed in a blue tunic with gold trimming. It looked well worn and a little out of place in the ornate castle. His blues eyes pass over me as he turns back to lock the door he just exited. They are made all the sharper by the cloth he wears. His hair was so yellow that it was almost golden, which was also out of place this far north, especially among the nobility. It was Sir Kal. He was leaner than his armor had lead me to believe. Sir Kal turned the key in the lock and left without sparing me a second glance.

"That's him. The man who saved the Prince." Jessica whispers as we enter my chambers.

Chapter 3

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #KoK #medeival #knight #queentobe #au

[comicteaparty]

January 28th-February 3rd, 2019 CTP Archive

The archive for the Comic Tea Party week long chat that occurred from January 28th, 2019 to February 3rd, 2019.  The chat focused on Poco Adventures by Bryan Climer.

Featured Comment:

Chat:

RebelVampire

COMIC TEA PARTY- WEEK LONG BOOK CLUB START!

Hello and welcome everyone to Comic Tea Party’s Week Long Book Club~! This week we’ll be focusing on Poco Adventures by Bryan Climer~! (http://pocoadventures.com/)

You are free to read and comment about the comic all week at your own pace, so stop on by whenever it suits your schedule! Remember, though, that while we allow constructive criticism, our focus is to have fun and appreciate the comic. Below you will find four questions to get you started on the discussion. However, a new question will be posted and pinned everyday (between 12:01AM and 6AM PST), so keep checking back for more! You have until February 3rd to tell us all your wonderful thoughts! With that established, let’s get going on the reading and the chatting!

QUESTION 1. What has been your favorite scene in the comic so far? What specifically did you like about it?

QUESTION 2. At the moment, who is your favorite character? What about that character earns them this favor?

QUESTION 3. Will Nigel remain on Poco’s side, or will he eventually turn evil because of the lich dagger? How will Nigel’s evil traits coming to light affect Poco’s belief in trusting people until they prove her wrong?

QUESTION 4. Will Sun’s status as an elvish princess earn her pursuers in the future? Do you believe Sun will continue to remain with Poco, or will duty eventually compel her to leave?

QUESTION 5. Do you believe Poco will continue to avoid a relationship with Sun, or will she eventually confess? Do you think Sun will reciprocate? How might the event affect their relationship, whether for good or ill?

RebelVampire

1) my favorite scene is probably all the stuff that happened once poco got back to HQ. it was nice getting to see the little community poco has built, figure out everyone's place in it, and meet a bunch of new characters. just in terms of exposition, it really helped ground me and finally feel like there were stakes and bad things that could happen. 2) Poco. I just like how she's balanced. She can be fun and goofy but can also be immensely caring to those around her. as recent events show, tho, she isnt perfect. She rash and more than willing to chase after revenge and be the monster everyone thinks she is. I just think she's got a good dynamic and i enjoy seeing her adventures. 3) I think Nigel is kind of doomed for the evil. Not by choice, but I mean...it's a lich dagger. There's nothing more evil than a lich. And I just feel regardless of what Nigel wants, the odds are stacked against him. I think the more evil he becomes, the more Poco's gonna have an internal struggle about trust and whether it's worth it. Which I think in turn will play into the struggles about whether she should be better than the monster she's assumed to be or be the monster she should be anyway. 4) I think Sun won't be compelled by duty, but I do think some pursuers are gonna come eventually. Lack of heirs is how kingdoms collapse, so it's not something that can be shrugged off. Especially now that she's used it as leverge I kind of think she's asking for it. Cause ya kind of don't get to abandon your kingdom but then use the fact youre a princess without consequences. 5) Poco is definitely gonna confess, because those are the sorts of feelings that just come bursting out after the bottle gets too full. I think Sun will reciprocate eventually, but probably not at first. I think at first Sun is gonna be surprised and confused.

RebelVampire

QUESTION 6. How might Nigel’s backstory as a betrayed prince affect future events? Do you believe Poco will understand and accept him keeping it secret? Also, what is Nigel’s hand up to during all the story’s events?

Delphina

Just caught up on the archive and gaaahhhh another comic with a sapphic lady knight! My one weakness!

For some reason, the scene where Poco gets to the top of the mountain only to find out there were stairs all along made me giggle a lot. Of course Poco chose the hard way. Of course!

Sun is cute (aforementioned lady knight weakness) and I'm intrigued by her past and how it's going to catch up to her, but Poco is probably my favorite so far because she's been given more nuance at this point in the story. She's feisty and competent, and that's always fun.

I gotta agree that Nigel's chances don't look great. He's already lost a bit of control and I suspect reuniting with that rogue hand is going to make him lose it entirely. This comic hasn't been shy about murder, so I suspect after some deliberation, Poco's gonna pull the knife on him. Maybe if we're lucky he can be necromance-d back without too much fuss.

RebelVampire

QUESTION 7. Why do you think Ryker killed Poco’s parents and the other goblins? Was it just non-human racism, or was there another reason? Do you believe Poco will actually manage to kill him this time, or are they destined to face off again?

Delphina

Yeaaaah, I might be wrong about this, but Ryker doesn't seem That Deep. I'm assuming he's just a racist violent dude and he murders a lot of people because he thinks humans are superior, and Poco's family were some of the few that effectively fought back and scarred him/stopped him for a while. I don't think she'll kill him yet. They'll meet again.

RebelVampire

(the archive for the chat on Helsirvente is now up! @khkddn https://comicteaparty.com/post/182467247440/january-21st-january-27th-2019-ctp-archive)

QUESTION 8. Given the massive human slaughter, what backlash might the Outrunner Outpost face for their actions? In general, how do you think Poco and company might affect humans’ views on non-humans?

@Delphina I have been ultra worried about that rogue hand. I can't decide whether I should find it more light hearted or more ominous of things to come. Cause he seemed fine when he had it but maybe he won't be fine because of the severing. Not to mention Nigel will probably have to realter his outfit or something.

6) I really do hope Nigel's background comes into play. I'm really curious about this random fact he's a prince and it seemed a significant point to bring up. And I mean...if he does get taken over by a lich very easy to show up to the old kingdom and go "i am the rightful heir" or something. I think that's a secret Poco would understand that, since its not like she doesnt already keep royalty in the pocket. 7) I'm a bit torn. I kind of think it's a mix of both. Like one goblin did something bad, but then Ryker was a racist and said he couldnt tell them apart and just genocided them. I don't think she's gonna get to kill him anytime soon. Ryker is super not done being the ultra dick of this story. 8) I think there's gonna be bounties on them for sure. I don't think the humans are gonna take kindly. Although I think the one dude Sun save might try to say something but then meh out. For the time being, I think Poco and them aren't really gonna change anything about people's viewpoints. Partly cause Poco herself is kind of ready to be the villain they want her to be. Her bro is really the one who has the chance of changing viewpoints, and right now hes in no condition to be all heroic.

Delphina

Yeah, Poco's core tactic seems to be "gather up all the non-human folks into our own little commune". I'm curious if they'll take the healer in, because he's the only human that's expressed a desire to not murder anyone, but I suspect if that happens, it's just going to be a matter of "well, you're one of us and you'll have no contact with humans from here on out". While Ryker might send MORE people after them, I don't expect the plot to move beyond skirmishes.

I guess there's also the possibility if Nigel somehow assumes a position of authority over the humans as his birthright and Sun goes back to her position of authority over non-humans as her birthright, they could politics their way out of hostilities, but it's a long shot and would definitely take a tone shift over what we're seeing at this point in the story.

RebelVampire

QUESTION 9. Overall, what other adventures and mishaps do you think Poco might get up to in the story? Also, what role might the pacifist Miller have to play in future stories?

RebelVampire

QUESTION 10. What are you most looking forward to in the comic? Also, do you have any final thoughts to share overall?

RebelVampire

9) im definitely thinking were gonna see some more dungeon diving. cause cant have adventure without dungeons. as for Miller, I do actually think he's gonna wind up with them eventually. maybe not right away, but I think he's gonna express some opinions that the big cheeses arent gonna be fond off and hes gonna be exiled or something like that. 10) im looking forward to seeing nigel's hand arrive cause that could go really badly or be really benign. and until then the tension is building as to how that will all play out.

Delphina

Yeah, I also want to see what happens with Nigel's hand and see a little more around his and Sun's backstories and worldviews.

RebelVampire

COMIC TEA PARTY- WEEK LONG BOOK CLUB END!

Thank you everyone so much for reading and chatting about Poco Adventures this week! Please also give a special thank you to Bryan Climer for volunteering the comic and creating it! If you liked Poco Adventures, make sure to continue to support it via some of the links below!

Read and Comment: http://pocoadventures.com/

Poco Adventures’ Twitter: https://twitter.com/pocoadventures

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #book club #bookclub #webcomic book club #webcomic bookclub #comic tea party #ctp #poco adventures #bryan climer

[matrixaffiliate]

Like the Storybooks

Co-written with @hufflepuffmarlenemckinnon

FFN and AO3

Chapter 19

Marlene lay in bed having lost the battle to stay her despair as silent tears slipped down her cheeks. She lost that battle often now, mourning her broken heart. The moon hung high in the sky and she knew the hour was quite late, she ought to sleep, but her heart ached at all she had lost and sleep would not come.

James had told her not to lose hope, that he'd do all he could to help her, except grant her the one request that allowed her to be with Sirius. What on Earth could he do? It wasn't as though Sirius could change anything about their situation. James would know that, but James also knew who Sirius really was.

It occurred to Marlene that she hadn’t put very much thought into Sirius’ identity. She’d been utterly distraught about her initial suitors and then the attack on her life and then finding herself madly in love with the Knight, that she’d almost started believing the tale spun around him. But she knew he was not a cousin to James, she’d known that at the outset. It had taken the distraction of her would be suitors and her still blossoming friendship with the Queen to not laugh out loud at the thought of it.

She sat up in her bed and pulled a pillow into her arms as she bit her bottom lip and tried to piece the puzzle together. Sirius and James squired together, that much she was sure of. They’re interactions reminded her very much of her father and uncle. When she thought of it like that, it made sense that James would do all in his power to help Sirius. She had originally assumed that Sirius was a simple low-born knight, and the story around his birth had been created to give him the position he held. But that hadn't really been necessary, it made appearances certainly, but James was the King after all, he didn't really need any other excuse for Sirius to lead his armies than the fact that Sirius was the best swordsman in the country. The question remained, why create a false identity in the first place? There had to be more to this story. There had to be reason for him to masquerade this way. Who was Sirius, really? And why couldn't she know? Why was he keeping her in the dark?

Her mind replayed everything she could think of from the moment she'd met Sirius. Surely there would be a clue in their interactions. She racked her brain and kept coming back to the haunted look in Sirius' eyes when he'd returned to her in Lady McGonagall's office. Lady McGonagall had been about to tell her of a young person who also refused to be Riddle's puppet...

Sirius. He'd stopped Lady McGonagall from explaining. Marlene had been utterly distracted by the love of his adoring stare, but he had been the one to stop the story. And Lady McGonagall had seemed displeased with him for it. Had the dear Lady been trying to give her the clues to piece it together herself? She had said she was confident that Marlene would decipher most of it on her own with time. Sirius had to be the youth Lady McGonagall had been referring to. Marlene was sure of it!

Marlene turned to stare at her door. Riddle had obviously wanted to use Sirius in some way. But how? Sirius had lived here with James since he was fifteen...

And then the math fell into place. Sirius would have come to live with His Majesty soon after Riddle arrived at Semprapuria. Queen Lily said that the heir had refused to bend the knee, but expressed some suspicion about the story that he’d been killed for it. Indeed it seemed that Lady McGonagall referred to this heir in vague terms as well. The Black family had buried their Duke, but they had lost their heir.

Semprapuria had revolted just after James had returned from his time with Lord Dumbledore. The math fell into place. Marlene's eyes widened and she moved from her bed to her door. Slowly she opened it up and looked out to the cot where Sirius lay sleeping, hand hovering above his sword. She was sure of her suspicions. It was the only explanation for James being confident that he could help her without the sacrifice of her standing.

Sirius was the rightful Duke of Semprapuria.

Nothing else could fully explain his circumstances, nor account for how he held himself like the old nobility and not a landless knight. There was no other fitting explanation as to why she’d never once heard of Sirius while growing up with James. This was the reason why all of his stories with James started at their time as squires. It had to be.

But she had to be certain.

Quietly, she slipped up to his cot and knelt beside him, careful to take his sword hand in both of hers.

"Sirius," she whispered and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Sirius stirred and his grip on her hands was momentarily crushing before he opened his eyes and realized it was her.

"Your Grace," he pushed up and kissed her hands, "forgive my years of training."

She smiled, "I much prefer a moment of experiencing your strength to the accident of you pulling your sword."

He chuckled and ran a gentle hand over her face. "What troubles you, Your Grace?"

Marlene took a breath to muster the courage she worried she lacked. "Sirius," she bit her bottom lip. "Sirius, who are you?"

His eyes became haunted again, barely visible in the dim light of the moon that poured into her sitting room.

"I am yours," he evaded the question and moved to sitting, pulling her up from her kneeled position.

She smiled and squeezed his hand as she sat next to him on his cot. "And I am yours, but Sirius, you are not the nephew of our beloved late Queen. I am sure of it."

Sirius stiffened, "Who is filling your head with tales?"

Marlene took a moment's offense to his comment, "No one! I am not some dull-witted wench! I grew up with their Majesties. James was my closest friend as a child. Barely a moon went by where I did not see him until we were nearly eleven, you were never mentioned! Your stories all start with your time as squires together! Can you, on your honor Sir Knight, tell me that you knew James personally before you were ten years of age?"

She knew her voice had become sharp, but she resented his implications that she was one to blindly follow gossip, her mother had raised her better than that. She was the crafter of gossip, not the victim!

"Your Grace..." He looked away.

"Your Grace," she stared him down. She had meant to lead into it, to give him the chance to tell her himself, but she'd lost her temper.

He stiffened, "That title is not mine."

"Tell me why," she pleaded, taking his face in her hands and turning him to look at her.

Gently he brushed her golden locks from her face, his eyes still haunted. "It is a long story, my heart."

"We have time, love," she reached forward and kissed his lips.

Sirius took a moment to simply kiss her, and in that moment it was just the two of them. It was a young couple in love without the concerns of station. But for the first time since he kissed her in this very room, Marlene was the one to pull away.

"Who are you, Sirius?" Her eyes held his and Sirius sighed, holding her cheek in his hand.

"You must understand, I now am exactly who I say. I am an unlanded knight with no title and no standing."

"But you weren't always," Marlene pressed him.

Sirius turned to look out the window. "No, I was not always."

He paused a moment as if trying to decide where to begin. "I was, for the first fifteen years of my life, the eldest son of Their Graces, Orion and Walburga Black, heir to the Duchy of Semprapuria." His voice snarled their names, and for the first time Marlene saw real anger in his eyes. It was terrifying, and without thinking she shrank back.

Sirius must have noticed because his look softened as he gently took her in his arms and kissed the top of her head.

“I returned home after my time with Lord Dumbledore, having made the best of friends with James, only to find my family, while I had never been overly fond of them, nor they of me, had began traitorous plans to rebel against the King. Having just become close friends with the heir, I'm sure you can imagine my feelings on the matter, and so I denounced them. I turned my back on them and fled to the one person I felt was more family than anyone else. I came here, to find James.”

Sirius grew quiet a moment and Marlene reached a hand over his arms wrapped around her to grab hold of his hand. She squeezed it reassuringly.

“If your parents were anything like their late Majesties, you were blessed beyond all measure I assure you. Their Majesties took me in as one of their own and helped me create the identity I now hold. I have been James’ companion at arms, the illegitimate son of Queen Euphemia's dead brother, a landless knight who was only meant to serve his King and Country, for the last seven winters. I never thought I'd want more than that. I never thought I'd find anyone who could so quickly steal my heart before I had even realized it.” He turned and looked down into her face. “I never thought I'd find you.”

A single tear escaped down Marlene's cheek as she looked into the face of the man she loved. He had given away everything for King and Country. Sirius had sacrificed it all, to swear fealty to her uncle and cousin, to her sovereign Kings, to his best friend, to the man who thought he could help their tragic tale.

“Did James tell you?” She asked, pulling Sirius from his thoughts. “Did he tell you what I asked of him.”

Sirius chuckled and ran a hand through her golden waves, “Shouted might be more accurate.”

“It wasn't my intention for the King to chastise you. I beseeched him as his cousin, not his subject.” Marlene's face dropped to look down at her hands.

Sirius brought a hand to her chin and guided her eyes back to his. “You are not to blame for my weaknesses, Marlene, though I feel unworthy of the sacrifice you were willing to make.” He kissed her cheek briefly before smiling. “And he entreated me as your cousin, not your Monarch. You have a way of wrapping people around your finger, you know?”

Marlene laughed, “Why, Sirius! What a thing to suggest!”

“Come now,” he laughed, “you never correct him when he calls you 'little Marly’ and I’m not confident you wouldn't stab me if I tried it.” Sirius laughed at her and Marlene playfully smacked his arm.

“There are a great many things I wouldn't stab you for, Sirius.” She slid her hand along his arm as though she hadn't just smacked him.

“You're proving my point, Marly,” Sirius brought his lips just inches to hers.

“There, see,” Marlene brought her arms around his neck, trying to hide how her childhood nickname on his lips made her breath catch and her head spin, “I didn't stab you.”

“Only because your knife is under your pillow,” he closed the distance between them and brought his lips to hers.

Marlene returned his kiss without reservation. She saw hope, there was a world in which they could be together, there was a chance at a lifetime of happiness.

His lips moved to her neck and she sighed, pulling him down to his cot with her.

He chuckled against her skin and pushed up on his elbows to look down at her. Marlene's breath caught in her chest with how his eyes bore into hers. “Just because I once was equal to your standing does not mean I am now.”

“But you'll have your damned title back,” Marlene tugged on his shirt. “You lead armies, you once told me. You're preparing them to crush out this rebellion and to regain your birthright.”

“Marly,” Sirius sighed and shook his head. It took every ounce of self-control Marlene had not to physically swoon has he looked down at her. But she could hear his resolve crumbling and she had to keep her momentum.

“Sirius, I promise not to stay. I promise to return to my bed. I promise,” she smiled slyly up at him, “if you tell me I'm correct in my assumptions. Tell me you're going to reclaim your birthright, tell me you will assume your role as Duke of Semprapuria, tell me we have a future together where Lord Lockhart has to bow to you.” She delivered her final line and as Sirius broke into laughter she gave a sharp tug on his shirt and he fell onto her.

Then his lips had returned to hers and her hands were in his hair as his fingers gripped her side and Marlene was sure the room was spinning in the best possible way. After what seemed like an eternity of blissful oblivion, Sirius slowed their pace and Marlene attempted to catch any semblance of breath.

Sirius brought a hand to her hair and gently kissed her brow, “With all my heart, Princess.”

Marlene's smile was evident in the way he looked down at her. In an instant she pulled his lips back to hers. Sirius’ kisses were slow, and Marlene knew he was trying to maintain the propriety that she was more than willing to sink in the sea. He was waiting for her to keep her promise to return to her own bed, but Marlene was having none of it.

Finally she pulled away in frustration.

“You’ll have me then?” her eyes bore into his. “When you come back with your ridiculous title and lands, you’ll have me officially?”

“If James consents I’ll pledge everything to you, My Princess.” Sirius returned to kiss her lips but Marlene sat up.

“Did James give you any indication that he wouldn’t?” Marlene grabbed Sirius hand and pulled them both to standing.

“Well, no,” Sirius looked like a confused puppy and Marlene couldn’t help but laugh.

“Has it occurred to you then, Sir, that you might return to my bed in my company as my husband?” Marlene wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly.

“Marlene,” Sirius spoke against her lips.

“I’m certain, Sirius,” Marlene began backing them towards her door. “I will not be sending you to war without first knowing you are mine and I yours. We’ll tell James in the morning. We can even go to a priest tomorrow if you’d like. When you return victorious we can make it known to the public. But I am yours tonight.”

Marlene almost broke out in laughter at the light in Sirius’s eyes as the connecting thoughts sorted themselves out. He was still a puppy, but now not quite as confused and doubly excited.

“I Sirius, do take thee Marlene, to my wedded wife and unto thee I pledge my troth.” His smile was perhaps the most genuine that Marlene had seen from him in the entirety of her time at court.

She took a deep breath and repeated the pledge that precontracted their marriage, after these words had been uttered they would be legally man and wife. They could be fussed with making it public in a church later. For that moment, as she promised her future to the man in front of her, she could feel only joy. “I Marlene, take thee Sirius, to my wedded husband and unto thee I pledge my troth.”

Sirius’ smile crashed into hers, sealing their vows as he kissed her with a happiness she'd never felt from him. That moment, and all the feelings captured in their kiss, seemed to transcend everything that she understood about the world. She hadn’t expected she’d ever feel real joy after the loss of her family, and perhaps it wasn’t the same to go into this new chapter of her life without them. But now she was sure that she was moving forward, the feeling of bliss was real. She was beaming as Sirius pulled back and swept her into his arms, carrying her into their room, the moonlight bathing his face in its soft glow.

“To bed, wife.”

#blackinnon #blackinnon fanfiction #sirius x marlene #sirius black x marlene mckinnon #sirius black #marlene mckinnon #medieval au #medieval fantasy AU #fake relationship au

[iimuchakk]

Thalassophile (Young!Sinbad x reader) Sinbad No Bouken

Summary : Moving to Tison village was never a noble girls dream, neither was meeting a young boy with both a passion for adventure and a talent at drawing people in. You thought the beginning of your life had ended long ago, but truth be told it starts here, and it starts now.

Warnings : Disturbing themes of parental and child relationships with one another

“So come all you pretty maids, whoever that you be, who love a jolly sailor bold, that ploughs the raging sea.”

Chapter : One

Volume 1 Chapter 4 : Precious lessons

Covered in the finest of silk’s and the most glittering of golds, you sat proudly in your seat. Hands laced together and propped up in a lady like manner on your lap. Your chin held itself high in the air proudly, and opposite you, your mother sat in a similar position, except her stature held power and authority, two things you were just beginning to grasp at your young age of 14. Your mother, Mrs Bedivere, was a well-known lady throughout Parthevia. People associated her with discipline, elegance and grace, as well as her ability to strike fear into the hearts of mere men just by glancing at them with her bright blue eyes. Currently, her gaze was off towards the direction of the window. Watching curiously as the view slowly changed from bright colors and rich statures into plain flat lands and dull living shacks. Despite being a wealthy women, the difference did not phase her. In fact, she seemed more pleased than not, and happily turned her attention down towards her pink dress.

Currently, your father was out fighting in the war. He was just as well known as your mother - if not more so - and was a respected officer who gave his loyalty over to the crown. He had never once been defeated, and you were keen on it staying that way. From your seat, your eyes shifted towards your mother, and you slowly opened your mouth to speak. “Mother.” You began gently, keeping your tone soft. In the past you had a habit of raising your voice and she was quick to scold you. Before replying to you, your mothers hands smoothed down a few kinks in her gown, careful not to scrape her nicely fuchsia painted nails. She took her time, then looked at you.

“Yes my sweet. What is it.” To anyone who dosent know her. In that moment she comes across as nothing more then polite and kind, as any mother would be when addressing their own flesh and blood. However to you, as somebody who has spent their entire life around her, and has seen every possible facade she owns, you know she is not happy from being brought out of her thoughts. Her eyes give it away, it is always her eyes. Holding back the urge to shift uncomfortable, you smile kindly.

“This village were moving to. What is it like? Will father soon be joining us?” Casually you moved a finger to your hair and began to twirl a strand of it vivaciously between your soft finger tips, that had obviously never seen a days of hard work.

“Tison village?” Your mother murmured quietly to herself, taking a short moment to ponder on what she should say. After a second or so, she glanced back out towards the window. The blurry colors of the quickly passing scenery not escaping her hawk like vision. “It’s not nearly as beautiful as what were use to back at home. Poor people at every turn, fishermen, most likely thieves and ruffians…However, I have been assured we will be given every luxury possible that comes with taking on this task the military has given your father once he returns. I’ve been told by the palace that our house is to be a suitable distance away from the others, and it will be the most well kept there. In addition, we will be given steady income, and wont have to associate ourselves to much with the people. As for your father -” Her gaze finally settles onto you, and for a moment, you swear she is hostile. “He will be joining us shortly. Now if you don’t mind. I would like to enjoy the rest of the carriage ride in silence.”

You note that is her lady like way of telling you to shut up, and so you comply. Soon, silence engulfs the two of you.

The carriage you both ride in is extravagant. The interior looks as though a chunk of the Parthevian castle has been taken, and the exterior not much different. You think back to the task at hand your mother mentioned your father having. When he returns from the war, he is meant to be taking control over Tison village for the emperor. A few years back when you were just a young girl, a Reim spy by the name of Darius had been sheltered by an expatriot, and ever since, the village has been less compliant to the needs of the Parthevian war. The kingdom hopes your father can restore the faith they once had in the military. As do you. The war is not something the rest of Parthevia takes lightly. In order to win, everybody is needed to help out in some way shape or form. Weather that means sending off their fathers and sons, or giving away their boats and money. That, is the Parthevian way.

Upon arrival, you watched from the shelter of your ride as people from the village crowded together to watch the commotion. Two horses rode beside the carriage, with two guards heavily armored controlling the reigns. Those two men were supposed to be yours and your mothers personal guards. Without your father with you, the two of you wouldn’t be able to fend for yourselves after all. You smiled widely when catching the boisterous grin of Knight Strous. Ever since you were a young girl, Sir Strous had been your only real friend. He was four years older than you, and while you were busy learning how to read and write, he was busying himself with the task of swords skills. Unlike his mentor Sir Gregor the third, who was also accompanying you. Strous was a lot kinder, and a lot more clumsy. He did make up for it with his charm though. You’d never seen somebody so easily talk an old women into stop hitting them with her bag. Holding back a laugh, you scanned over the people of Tison village.

The people dressed dully. Most of them wearing dark mucky brown clothing, or fabrics you could tell were of poor quality. You frowned. Unimpressed with the conditions. You expected something more. But what of you did not know. At the front of the crowd young girls and boys stood. Whispering excitedly about the new sights and carelessly pointing and tugging on their parents clothes. It was an odd exchange, you and your parents hardly ever acted towards each other like that.

“He looks strangely familiar.” Your mother quietly whispered to herself. Looking to her, you followed her stare dead ahead, to meet the face of a young boy around your age. He was handsome, that was a given. He had long purple hair tied into a ponytail, and his facial features were well defined. His clothing was simple, but suited him well. For a brief moment, his golden orbs moved ever so slightly to meet your own. As if by reflex your cheeks grew hot, and your eyes nervously shifted to any where other then his own. A higher class should not be caught staring at someone of lower status, and from your mothers disapproving hum, you knew the act did not go unnoticed. 

Your posture faltered, and you sunk back into your seat to escape the gaze’s of the villagers and perhaps spare yourself from doing anything else your mother could criticize you for. Your mother didn’t seem to care about your bodies sudden lack of nobility. Nobody could see you from your position now. The public could not judge what they could not see. After that moment, you couldn’t get that boy out of your head, and you most certainly couldn’t get the fact your mother recognized him out of there either. The carriage continued on for a couple more minuets, until it finally stopped outside your new home.

Stepping out of the carriage, you curiously staggered over to the sight. Then, you paused.

“This could be nicer.” You concluded. Strous laughed, joining you.

“It’s nicer then the other houses. Believe me.” He told you, picking up your luggage. “I’m not even living in this. Count yourself lucky my lady.” Using his free hand to take off his helmet, Strous shook his head allowing his blond curly hair to run free. “Me and Sir Gregor will be living in a nice little shack behind your house. The thought of being cooped up with that grumpy old man really makes my day.”

“I’m glad to know you like Sir Gregor as much as the next person.” Playfully Strous nudged you. It caused him to stumble more then you since he had a bag of your heavy luggage in his other arm. If he was anyone else you’d have them arrested, but this was Strous. He’d do anything to protect you. With one final chuckle, Strous ventured towards your house. It was large and built completely of wood like many of the other buildings in Tison village. This one however, was decorated with flowers and expensive looking ornaments. Still, it hardly even rivaled your old home.

Sighing, you looked back towards where you had just came from before beginning to walk towards your house.

Suddenly a hand clasped gently around your wrist. Turning you directly back into golden orbs you didn’t think you would see again for a while. A tiny squeak surpassed your lips and you watched as the boy from earlier got down onto one knee, placing a gentle kiss to the back of your. Your face flushed yet again, and he winked. “My lady. It’s a pleasure knowing someone as beautiful as yourself will be staying here. My name is Sinbad, Sinbad the sailor. What’s yours?”

Whack.

A dumbfounded expression replaced his flirtatious grin, leaving him looking like a lost puppy. You on the other hand, were both outraged and deeply confused. No boy had ever made such a brash movement like that towards you before. This boy - Sinbad - had a large red hand print on his cheek, his lower lip stuck out in a futile attempt to make you feel bad for him. You narrowed your eyes at him, watching as he stood to his feet, towering over you by two inches or so. You both stood a whiles length from your house, in the entrance of the small wooded area where the carriage had stopped. In an instant, he snapped back to his earlier self. “You have an arm on you.” 

“How dare you -” He stepped forward abruptly. And so you took a step back. The heel of your shoes catching on some sort of rocky surface, causing you to fall backwards. It was most certainly ungraceful, your arms flailing recklessly above you for some sort of balance. In the end, you got your wish. But it came in the form of a slim arm wrapping around your waist, pressing you close to their body.

“Could have been quite a fall. You’re lucky.” In a space of a minuet, you have been told twice about how lucky you are, but it is quite the opposite of how you feel. By now you sure your face is a bright red, and Sinbad smirks arrogantly. “I have saved you my lady. The least I can get in return is a name?” You glanced away, and slowly heaved yourself from his chest, standing up straight and lifting your head high. It seemed to amuse him.

“If your going to keep pestering me then I’ll have you know you can address me either as Miss Bedivere or Lady Bedivere, Sinbad the sailor.” You spat his name out coated in venom. Causing him to pout. “Now. I must be taking my leave as should you. Otherwise I will most certainly be getting my personal guard over here to escort you out of my families land. Good day to you.”

“Wait!” Nostrils flaring, you were ready to give this boy a good piece of your mind. You wouldn’t have cared about talking to him, but his greeting was rude and his manner even worse. He needed to learn his place and you wouldn’t mind fetching Strous to teach him it. “Now listen here-”

“Will I see you again?”

“Pardon?” Sinbad smiled gently, resting one hand on the hilt of his sword. It didn’t seem to be an act of aggression. But more like a habit of his he’d picked up along his way. Taken a back, your lips pursed as you tried thinking of a way to answer him back. “W-well.” You stuttered, not pleased with yourself in the slightest. “I-I live here now so it’s not as though we wont be seeing each other.” Your reply seemed to please him and he turned his back towards you. Then sauntered away. This Sinbad, he certainly left an impression.

The inside of the house was much more pleasant then the outside’s appearance made it seem. It had a cosy feel to it, and even though it was very different from what you were use to. The change was nice. You were sat in one of the kitchen’s wooden chairs. A plush pillow placed behind your back. Your hand was clasped softly around a quill as you used the roses in the flower pot that was situated in the middle of the table as inspiration to draw. You had always been a good drawer. Your old nanny had said you had an eye for things others could not see. In fact, when you were little you believed her. You always found yourself zoning out and a moment later you’d look down to see something spectacular sketched out to perfection on your paper. This was one of them moments. Like chimes ringing in your ears, white noise had completely left and was replaced with the calm waves of the ocean near by, and the chirping of woodland birds. On the page, an image of a rose covered meadow had been drawn, and in the midst stood a figure shadowed in the rays of the sun.

“Darling.” Pulling you out of your daze, you looked up to your mother who had turned from stirring the stew to study your form. She simply glanced to the picture you had drawn before pursing her lips. “Whats on your mind? Your worrying me. Has something happened?” Lies. Your mind betrayed your heart, which clenched in pain knowing you were right. She didn’t care, she didn’t worry. She just wanted to know, she just wanted control. In your throat, a lump formed. It formed from fear. You smiled crookedly at her, and shook your head.

“Nothings wrong mother. Please don’t worry.” You willed. “Nothing has happened at all. It’s just such a change I’m still adjusting to life here.” You regretted hiding the truth from her immediately after, as a hateful smirk arose on her face. A “Tuting” noise escaped her lips, and she walked over to stand behind you, her hips swaying, much like a lions as they stalked their prey. Leaning down into your ear, she used her nails to grasp the lobe. Making sure you couldn’t tug away, even though she full well knew you wouldn’t. It would leave indents in the skin. She knew that too.

“I want you to stay away from him. Far, far away.”

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