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smarchit · 3 years

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Poetry for an Heiress Chapter 9

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: When a duchess and her children are abandoned far from home, they must rely on the kindness of one stranger to guide them home.

Warnings: Mild, canon typical violence

Notes: There is one final chapter after this, so please stay tuned. I appreciate every single one of you! <3

"That's enough!" a voice rang out, crisp and clear through the tension of the garden. "What in Kevva's name is going on out here?!"

Edgar whipped around to face the newcomer into the group. He looked bewildered and a little horrified when the woman approached and he glanced towards Ezra, who was still on his knees at the mercy of the two guards holding him down.

"M-milady," Edgar stammered, trying to shield her from Ezra with his body. "Is there something you need? More tea, perhaps?"

"I heard some commotion," she said softly as she tightened a shawl around her shoulders. "It sounded like the children!"

Edgar scowled and then smiled as he placed his hand on his chest. "Your highness, please know I have had my men searching diligently for them for months now. There's been no sign of them."

"Your highness," Ezra gasped, trying to crane his neck to look around Edgar. "Please, the children, they're---"

One of the guards holding Ezra slammed the back of his thrower into the side of his head. He grunted in pain and dropped to the ground. One guard let him go and the other twisted his arm around against his back and Ezra let out a sharp cry. He twisted his head around and stared up at her, his eyes brimming with involuntary tears.

"The children?" she whispered, one hand flying to the brooch at her neck. She stared at Ezra for a moment before she turned back to Edgar. "Who is this man?"

"A vagrant, your majesty," Edgar said dismissively with a wave of his hand. "We found him trying to break into the palace through the back gate."

"Please," Ezra groaned, trying to break his hand free of the guard's grasp. "Please, the children are in danger!"

"What is he saying?" the woman asked, peering around Edgar even as he tried to gently nudge her away. She glared at her butler and moved to push his hands free from her. "About the children? Young man, the children! Speak up!"

"Fuck! They're in the shed!" Ezra cried out in pain as the guard twisted his arm around further. He felt his shoulder pop and protest as it was pushed to its limits. Another guard delivered a swift kick to his stomach.

"Shut up, dog!" one of them ordered.

The woman began to weep and she shook her head. "You are cruel. Please do not speak of such things! Do not torture an old woman like this!"

"Grandmother!" Muffled, frantic voices echoed throughout the garden.

The woman, now known to Ezra as the princess, the Duchess' mother, froze in place. Tears streamed down her face and she slowly turned to face Edgar.

"What is the meaning of this?" she asked, finally pushing herself away from him. He let her go without trying to stop her. She turned to one of the guards and pointed at the shed. "You! Open that shed at once!"

"Please!" one of the twins shouted. "Mama is hurt!"

One of the guards swiftly moved to the shed, despite the loud protests from Edgar. He busted the lock holding the children and the Duchess inside and yanked the door open.

The princess shouted with joy and dropped to her knees as the children came running towards her. She opened her arms wide and pulled them in for a warm embrace.

"Your highness!" the guard shouted, drawing the princess' attention from laving her grandchildren with kisses. He stepped out of the shed, holding the Duchess in his arms.

Her face was covered in blood as it dripped from a cut on her hairline. There were streaks of it on the cream colored fabric of her dress and on her hands from where she'd grabbed at the wound.

"Princess!" Ezra croaked, his voice coming out jagged and rough with effort.

The princess turned to him and followed his agonized gaze to her daughter. She stood and rushed to her daughter's side, ordering the guard to set her body down.

"Call for the doctor at once!" she ordered. As the guard rushed towards the house, she quickly added, "And the police!"

Ezra grunted in pain as the guard holding him pressed down on his back with his boot.

"Fuck," he croaked, "Let me up! The duchess--"

"Do not let him up until the police arrive!" Edgar ordered. "He stays right there!"

"Mr. Ezra!" Marie cried, rushing towards him. She knelt down beside him and patted his hair. "Mama called your name in the shed. Are you okay?"

"Get away from him, girl!" Edgar snarled, yanking her away by the arm.

She gave a shrill yell and tried to pull away from him. "No!! Grandmama, he's hurting me!"

The princess looked up from her daughter and drew herself up to her full height. Even though the guards towered over her, they shrunk back in fear.

"Edgar, you will unhand her at once!" she ordered. She pointed to the guard that was still detaining Ezra. "And you, you will apprehend him!"

The guard glanced at the others and then at Edgar. He let Ezra fall unceremoniously to the ground and sprung towards Edgar. Though the butler attempted to flee, he was easily captured and wrestled to the ground.

Ezra wheezed and shook with the effort of holding himself upright on one hand. Marie, with all her little strength, tried to help lift him into a sitting position.

Aiden and Henry rushed over to hoist him up. They shouldered his weight as best they could and helped him crawl on his knees towards the Duchess.

"Grandmother," Henry said sheepishly as he glanced between the two adults. "This is Mr. Ezra. He rescued us."

Ezra bowed his head and winced in pain at the movement. "Your majesty. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"He saved us from the bad man," Marie said, climbing into his lap. She smiled and wrapped her little arms around his shoulders. "Tried to save us from Edgar too!"

Loud sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer by the minute as the authorities made their way to the palace.

"Grandmother," Aiden murmured, putting his hand on hers as she held the Duchess in her arms. "Is Mr. Ezra in trouble?"

She started to reply, but was cut off by a furious cry from Edgar as he thrashed in the arms of the guards. "This is an outrage! Completely ridiculous! Unhand me immediately!" He continued to resist them even as they dragged him into the house.

The princess smiled and looked at her grandchildren. She put her hand on Marie's cheek and looked at all three of her grandchildren. "No, my loves. If he rescued you, he is not in trouble."

Marie giggled and held on tight to Ezra as the sirens grew closer. She reached down and held her mother's hand, not wanting anyone to tear them apart.

The Duchess finally, blessedly came to when Ezra called her name just as police and additional palace security entered the garden. She reached up with a shaky hand and held onto his arm. "Thank you," she whispered.

Ezra leaned down and kissed her forehead. He nudged his nose against hers and smiled. "Always, Princess. Always."

A few days after the events in the garden, you finally were released from the care of the palace physicians and allowed to go back to your room. The children were grateful for that and insisted on walking with you back to your bedroom, asking you a million questions simultaneously.

You answered each of their questions patiently, hoping they would understand what had happened. You decided it best to leave out the part where Edgar had essentially sold you all in an attempt to claim the throne for himself.

Your mother and grandmother had come to your room in the physician's ward as soon as you were feeling better and explained everything that had happened once Edgar had been apprehended by authorities.

It somehow had come to light that Edgar was to be dismissed following the death of the Queen, and a new staff would be brought in, as was customary. Apparently, he was not a fan of that tradition, and set about making it so he would never have to leave, by way of the murder and imprisonment the entire royal family.

However, he had not planned on the kindness of strangers when he dropped your pod over Muir's atmosphere. He never planned that you would even survive the drop.

He especially didn't plan on you falling in love.

Quite honestly, you didn't plan on it either. Falling in love isn't something one ever plans, like a dinner party or a trip to the store. It is spontaneous and beautiful, like a summer rainstorm.

Ezra had been to visit you every day while you were in the physician's ward. He would never have left your side had it not been for the palace doctor ordering you to bed at a reasonable hour.

When you finally reached your bedroom, the children opened the doors for you, insisting they wanted to help as much as they could. Marie was bouncing on her feet as her brothers pulled open the doors. You glanced down at her and raised a brow. The children had been more secretive this morning and you'd not seen Ezra at all.

Everything clicked into place when you stepped into your bedroom. Sunlight streamed through the large open windows that overlooked the garden. A gentle breeze lifted the gossamer curtains so they brushed the legs of the furniture. On almost every surface were vases brimming with flowers and hundreds of cards from well-wishers, their hopes for your speedy recovery scribbled inside. In the middle of it all, and perhaps the most beautiful sight, was Ezra.

He offered you that same boyish grin he flashed you the first day you met. His hair, normally shaggy and unruly, had been smoothed down, though it had definitely put up a fight. He wore a new deep green sweater, the sleeve of his missing arm neatly pinned up.

"Princess," he hummed, holding his arm out to you. "Welcome home. I suspect I am not the first to properly say so, but I am---"

You raced towards him and threw yourself into his waiting arm to kiss him deeply. Behind you, the children giggled and Marie clapped her hands.

"Mama, mama!" she cried, "Mama, guess what?!"

"Shut up, Marie!" Aiden shushed, putting a finger to his lips.

You pulled away from the kiss and scolded your eldest. "Apologize to your sister."

"Aw, Princess, they're just kids," Ezra hummed, cupping your cheek and pulling you back in for a kiss. "They're just excited, that's all."

"What are you all excited for?" you asked as you turned to your children. They glanced over your shoulder briefly before shaking their heads innocently.

"Nothing," Marie said, averting her gaze.

"Just excited you're back with us," Mama," Henry said with a toothy grin.

"Yes, we missed you!" Aiden chimed in.

"I'm so glad you're all terrible liars," you said with a chuckle. "I know you won't get into mischief when you're older. Now what are you planning?"

Ezra chuckled and wrapped his arm around your waist and rested it against your lower back. "Princess, will you take a walk in the garden with me?"

You raised a brow and then nodded slowly, a bit hesitant. Whatever they were planning, obviously all four of them were involved.

You wondered what could be such a big secret that they were keeping it from you - especially the children. They could never keep a secret from you for very long. "Of course."

Ezra grinned and offered his arm for you to loop yours through. The sunlight lit up his face, and for a moment, the blonde tuft of hair appeared white.

You smiled and gave his arm a squeeze. "Lead the way, sir."

The children trailed behind you at a distance, giggling excitedly and shushing one another. Every time you glanced back at them, they quieted themselves and straightened their backs, trying too hard to appear completely innocent.

The back garden had been meticulously cleaned and maintained in the few days since you'd arrived back at the palace. There was no evidence that something horrific had almost occurred there. Everything had been put back in order, per Ezra's careful dictation to the staff, though he had sheepishly admitted to lending a hand now and then.

He gave you a personal, private tour, pointing out the changes he'd made, and what was still to come.

"All of it," he said, kissing the back of your hand. "For you, Princess. I know how much you love this garden and all its vibrant splendor, so I hope I have not overstepped nor made any critical mistakes."

"Oh, Ez," you breathed, looking at the new plants he had helped the palace staff plant and place, "It's so beautiful! I love it! Is this what you had been keeping so secret, children?"

The three of them giggled and shook their heads. "No, mama," they answered in the type of perfect, rehearsed unison that usually came with ulterior motives.

"Alright, you three," Ezra said with a firm, but mischievous look. "I think it's high time you go find your grandmother. Or see if Mara needs help in the kitchen. Now."

The children giggled again and took off running back towards the house, whispering excitedly the whole way. Something was definitely up.

"What in the stars name is going on?" you asked, turning to look at Ezra.

He looked at you, his mouth set in a firm line, his eyes locked with yours. He gave your hand a squeeze and took a deep breath to steady himself.

"All of this," he said softly, gesturing with a nod of his head around at the garden, "All of this, is my gift to you, Princess. I couldn't simply just leave this place filled with those memories of what transpired here the other day. It would not have been right."

Your heart sank into your stomach and you felt your breath catch in your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes, stinging and threatening to spill down your face. "Ezra, why does this sound like you're going away? Like I'm never going to see you again? Why does this sound like our goodbye?"

Ezra reached up to brush the tears away before they even had a chance to fall. He gently pulled you in for a kiss and smiled against your mouth. When you let out a sob, he shook his head. "Hey, now. There isn't gonna be any of that, okay? No crying, no goodbyes. I'm going to stay here with you."

You hiccupped and looked at him in disbelief. Was he being serious? Did he mean it? He wanted to stay here. With you. With the children.

"You mean it?" you breathed, unable to find the words to properly speak. It felt as if the very air had been pulled from your lungs --- but in the absolute best way possible.

"With my whole heart, I do," he said with a soft smile. "When I saw you get pulled out of that shed a few days ago, I realized that if I lost you then, I would be a broken man. Nothing would feel complete in my life if I never saw you, never saw those kids again. So, if you will have me, I would like it very much if I were able to stay here with you. Forever, if you will have me."

"Ezra," you breathed, tears sliding down your cheeks before you could even stop them. "Ez, are you asking what---"

He cleared his throat and clenched his jaw so hard, you saw the muscle tense in his cheek. "I am asking you something that a few years ago, I would have deemed completely out of character for myself. But it would bring me the greatest joy in my life if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife? A-and not just a wife, Kevva no, a partner. For life."

You nodded quickly and threw your arms around his neck, breathing in the spice of his soap. "Yes!" you gasped breathlessly. "A thousand times, yes!"

Ezra let out a bark of excited laughter and threw his arm around your waist. He pulled back and kissed you deeply, only to part with another breathless peal of laughter when the children came sprinting back into the garden.

"Did she say yes?!" Marie demanded immediately. "Mama, did you say yes?"

"Of course she did!" Henry replied with a grin. "I told you she would!"

"Does this mean we need to call Mr. Ezra "papa" now?" Aiden asked, tugging on your dress.

You chuckled and looked down at Aiden. You put a gentle hand on the top of his head. "My sweet, you can call him whatever you wish. Though I'm sure great-grandmother will have some say as to---" You paused and looked back at Ezra.

"What's the matter?" Ezra asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he held you close.

"Did you ask for my grandmother's approval?" you asked quietly. When Ezra looked confused, you shook your head and continued. "She is the only one who can approve marriages within our family."

"And you have no say in this?" Ezra chuckled in disbelief. He shook his head and then looked down at Marie who had started to cry.

"I don't," you murmured. "She's the only one. It's a barbaric practice, and one that can clearly be omitted, but my grandmother is nothing if not traditional."

"Mama," Marie cried, "She's going to say no!"

You gently shushed her and bent low to pick her up. "You don't know that, little bug."

"Well, let's go ask her," Ezra insisted with a small, reassuring smile. He rubbed his thumb over your back reassuringly. "I am willing to do whatever it takes," he promised you.

You choked out a sob before you smiled through your tears. "I can only hope she will be in good spirits when you approach her."

Ezra gave a half shrug. "I've worked with far less hospitable and agreeable people, Princess. Don't you worry."

***

You felt like your grandmother was taking an exceptionally long time to give Ezra her answer. Though she was incredibly old, she was still as sharp as a tack. It was definitely something she used to her advantage - not many people anticipate her being a formidable adversary in regards to disputes. Perhaps both she and Ezra had met their match in terms of wit.

You sat out in the dark hallway on one of the plush benches outside of her drawing room. You were no stranger to sitting here.

This was where you'd sat while you waited for a lecture on how a proper duchess should act when you were caught climbing the tree in the garden as a child. Where you had sat when you got in trouble for sneaking off with the cook's son as a teenager. And where you had sat for hours while your first husband asked for your grandmother's blessing of his proposal.

Now, you were back. It was agony. The fear of her disapproval hung over you like a dark cloud. If she said no, it would absolutely crush you. And not to mention what it would do to the children. They were so excited at the idea that they might soon have a father. You didn't know what you would tell them if her answer was no.

Maybe you could run away with him and the children? Could that be even in the realm of possibilities? Or would they send someone after you? After what happened with Edgar, it didn't seem too unlikely.

You were finally about to give up hope of Ezra ever actually coming out of your grandmother's drawing room again when the handle jostled slightly as if someone had out their hand on it.

There was a boisterous laugh from Ezra that echoed in the room behind the door and you shot out of your seat like it had burned you. You were nearly vibrating with anticipation, waiting for Ezra to open the door and give you whatever news he had, good or bad.

He came out into the hallway and shut the door quietly before turning to you, a serious and grim expression on his face.

"Well?" you asked, nearly breathless. You clasped your hands to your chest and held your breath.

"She gave us her full approval," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "She commended me for my part in your rescue and how I helped you and the children on Muir. I suppose she wanted to hear my side of the story as well."

You threw yourself into his embrace and laughed with him joy. "Ez!" you squealed as he peppered your face with kisses. "Oh, this is wonderful! We must tell the children immediately!"

Ezra grinned and pulled back to press an open mouth kiss to your jaw. "They are playing outside, Princess. I figured we have a few minutes to ourselves. Now that you're not in the physician's ward anymore."

Ezra kissed you again and pressed his forehead to yours. "Now who would I be to deny such a simple request?"

****

TAGLIST:

@the-feckless-wonder @gallowsjoker @phoenixhalliwell @waatermelon-sugaar @huliabitch @miscellaneous-mando @lestrange2703 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @auandromedus

#my writing #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #prospect #poetry for an heiress #pedro pascal

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iniziare · 4 years

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Olympian Aesthetics

Aphrodite

Laughter loving. Sweet smiles. Dressed in silk and satin. Flower in their hair. Sees the world as a runway. Unapologetically sexual. The sea washing their ankles. In love with love. Stirrer of passion. Cunning concealed by painted lips. Secret daggers. Doves. Revolution in their kiss. Delighting in the waves. Flirtatious winks. Strolling along the beach. Staring wistfully from a balcony. This is how to be a heartbreaker. Wants to be adored. Gets turned on by danger.

Apollo

Glitz and glamour. Art galleries. Turning the volume up. Being made of gold. Neatly organized music sheets. Notebooks filled with poetry. Bathing in the sunlight. The powerful urge to create. Collecting vinyl records. Beautiful cover of Wonderwall. Playing multiple instruments. Tasting like sunshine. Healing touch. Speaking in prophecies. Smile mingled with wrath. Shunning lies. Sporting shades. Hanging out at music festivals with their friends. Sleeps naked. Arrow to the heart. Paint brushes. Probably has a Tinder account.

Ares

Armed for battle. Wants to raise a dog with their significant other. Soft spot for children. Gives piggyback rides. Scarred body. Blood on their hands and face. Willing to fight the world for the ones they love. Fights against injustice. Warm hugs. Well worn combat boots. Boxing gloves. Bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. Fist raised in protest. Ignites revolutions. Fear is a prison. More sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think. Exhausted. Damaged goods. Force to be reckoned with. Red roses. Curses under their breath.

Artemis

Keen sense of a hunter. Freckles like constellations on their skin. Piercing eyes. Disheveled braid. Moonlight peeking through the shadows. The calm of the forest at night. Lying on the grass and staring at the stars. Mother doe and her fawn. Protecting their kin. The moon shimmering on a still lake. Quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree. Running with wolves. Bonding while circled around a campfire. Not being much of a people person. Arrow hitting a target. Popping egos. Patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.

Athena

Discerning gaze. Unreadable face. Quiet museums. Owl perched on their finger. Armour that intimidates. Eye for architecture. Plays the Sims for the sole purpose of building houses. Studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid. Big fan of logic. Loves brain teasers. Ancient buildings. Sweaters in neutrals and cool colours. Hair done up. Can kill you with their brain. Heads to the library often to research. Sharpened pencils. Abs that can cut steel. Stoic statues. Pottery classes.

Demeter

Soil covered hands. Smile that can bloom flowers. Skin loved by the sun. Being the mom friend. Can lift you and your friends. Flowers kept in the pockets of overalls. Takes pride in their beautiful garden. Speaks to their plants. Leaves rustling in the wind. Stalks of wheat. Picking fruit. Greenhouses. Heart as strong as a mountain. Values simplicity. Daisies dotted across a collarbone. Curls crowned with flowers. Folded pile of sweaters in warm hues. Pulling out fresh baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

Dionysus

Drunk shitposter. On their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second. Seductive smirks. Untamed curls. Rich fabrics on dark skin. Sleek furred panthers. Theatre masks. Stage productions. Receiving a standing ovation. Rose caught between their teeth. Being the baby of the bunch. Wild parties that last from sundown to sunup. Creeping vines. Inspiring loyalty. Grand opera houses. Masquerade balls. Rolls of film. Shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine spilled floor. Pouring champagne into flutes. Lives for the applause.

Hephaestus

The calloused hands of someone who knows labour. Sweaty brow. Flame burning in their eyes. Inventive mind. Broad shoulders. Steampunk goggles. Nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes. Ashes. Striking a match. Blueprints for future projects. Fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades. Wrestles with bitterness. Work boots have seen better years. Wrinkled plaid shirts. Iron melted in blazing fire. Huge jackets. Crafting masterpieces. Greased stained overalls. Fascination with robotics. Pain is fuel. Stack of weaponry. Even their muscles have muscles.

Hera

Resting bitch face. Dressed to the nines. Cows grazing on a pasture. Cool rain. Loving and hating fiercely. Hand clutching a string of pearls. Large chandelier with glittering crystals. Plays the Sims for the sole purpose of killing off their Sims. Romance to realism. Pictures of the sky while flying on a plane. Files that under fuck it. Downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and Netflix. Like their selfie or you’re grounded. Knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man. Dark eyes that penetrate your soul. Marble and gold.

Hermes

Devil-may-care smile. Always up-to-date on the latest technology. Will steal your French fries. Does it for the vine. Shitposter. Puts googly eyes on everything. Meme hoarder. Long drives on the highway. Ma and pop diners. Spontaneous road trips. Folded maps. Fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop. Shooting hoops on the basketball court. Chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations. Goes jogging in the morning. Mixes Redbull with coffee. Menace on April Fool’s. Hoodies and sneakers.

Poseidon

Storm with skin. Colourful coral reefs. Waves crashing against the shore. Stroking the soft fur of a cat. Their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop. Tousled locks. Clothes smeared with paint. Owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more. Leather jackets. Fondness for DIY projects. Handwriting that flows across the page. Nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin. Velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams. Mood as ever-changing as the sea. The roar of a motorcycle. Compass with a spinning arrow.

Zeus

Thunder in their heart. Running on coffee. Flash of lightning. Unnatural charisma. Eloquence. Badass in a nice suit. Aficionado of history. Force of nature. Lenny face. Nightmare-filled nights. Proud arm around their lover’s waist. High- rise buildings. Planes soaring through a cloudless sky. technician on the piano. Maintains order. Strong handshake. Juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease. Expensive watch.

Tagged by: @agentscullied / @sicsemper Tagging: ... @sicsemper (Connor) / @agentscullied (Catherine) / @mvseums (Milady and/or Hank) / @loialte (Luther) / @immobiliter (Pepper) / @toendwar / @outlawiism / @widcwer / @watchkept / @finiarcl (Henry)

#[ francis ii. ] we will not bow to the english. not in france or in scotland. i will fight for scotland until my last breath.#[ francis ii. / et cetera. ] the throne doesn't judge what a man believes in his heart. we only judge what he does with his hands.

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deathnied · 6 years

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@ladyferros

→ The man before her is intriguing, if anything, though more than that, he is cold and blank. It much reminds Camille of herself, if anything, or at least the impression which she strives to give to the world- she learned long ago that to put on an icy visage was much more beneficial to give the illusion of softness and comfort. To be feared was much more beneficial than to be seen as accessible. And, it was just as well for Lady Ferros, for she was neither kind, nor generous. She would do what was best for her family, and her city, and such was something that the townspeople best be aware of.

The spoon stirring a sugar cube into her teacup clicks lightly against the side, porcelain rattling just briefly in the saucer before the Piltoven puts a stop to it with the touch of her index finger. She brings the drink to her lips and sips with a short hum of response, hugging the cup between her hands and swallowing as she looks up to the man before her.

– “Mm. Perhaps that’s true, though I like to emphasize what death does for politics. After all, what sort of thing can turn the tables as sharply as a killing? Not negotiations, that is for certain.” –

Though her slight shift in the conversation isn’t for naught, and Camille pauses to look over the man sitting across from her. While they’d been able to make idle, pleasant conversation over the course of their meeting, she couldn’t help but wonder what he was really after, and why he’d appeared in her city. This was her greater concern- he didn’t seem especially dangerous, though the woman knew all too well that looks could be deceiving. And some piece of him alerted her that he wasn’t only what he seemed- though this could be her unfamiliarity speaking on her behalf. The fan of her eyelashes cast a dull shadow against her colourless cheekbones as she blinked once, then spoke again, voice even.

– “Tell me, what are you looking for? I doubt that you’re here simply on a pleasurable visit.” –

COLD AND BLANK, those are two adjectives that make for perfect slates for no man’s assumption. give them little and they’ll assume all the wrong things in all the wrong angles. he’s learned how to be so through the years, the image of solemn indifference. the reaper, they called him, the wraith, neither of which held true, but made his purpose in his homeland earlier. he was an enforcer, the looming shadow of the government so many feared. it served him right, to be feared. it served him right to be an unfathomable concept. bringing his own cup to his lips, he drinks his beverage quietly, single purple eye settled upon the curious figure of lady ferros.

two anomalies, the both of them. she doesn’t feel like the other folks of the city of progress he’s met prior, nor does she look like most of them.

a soft chuckle at her response, more courteous than amused, he places the cup back down. they did share similar views on politics. to him, death had been a tool, time and time again, and somehow, quaintly, death decides to ignore him when his turn came. it didn’t matter in the long run, the poetry of it, as pragmatism was far more appealing.

“negotiations have its place, but so does death. it suppose one could call the latter the greatest remedy to failed negotiations,” and there’s a smile to his face, but it still remains hollow, lacking any warmth. he had often been witness to the weight of what he spoke --- not only witness, but maker of it as well. her question comes in its due place and he hums, gently. “i was waiting for you to ask so, milady. i am seeking for a perilous individual, one that could likely jeopardize your city. she’s a wanted fellow back at home, you see? i doubt one would enjoy having her loitering about by their own home, all things considered.”

#ladyferros #—v: main.#[ this took so lONG I'M SORRY ]

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prinzenhasserin · 6 years

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Fandom5K 2018

Dear Writer!

I had so much fun doing this exchange last year, and please don’t feel obligated to use my prompts. This letter is just in case you might want to poke at some more of my likes. Generally, I’m open to a lot, and will be happy with any rating from gen to explicit.

My AO3 account is here. My prompts are pretty ridiculous in places. That’s just how my mind works! Feel free to play them entirely straight, or subvert them to your hearts desire. I’m not so much a fan of darkfic, exceptions apply for hopeful/happy resolutions.

Feel also free to include other characters or OCs as side-characters, if they are necessary because of plot reasons. ❤️

(If this letter cribs a lot from my other letters, it’s because I’m lazy, and my likes don’t change around that much :D You can find some of my other letters under the exchange letter tag. I hope you have fun creating!)

Likes:

loyalty

odd couples!

found family, dysfunctional families that nevertheless love each other

historical stories for same-sex pairings that aren't unhappy but that fit with the society of the time (so like, spinster ladies living together; bachelors-for-life); I also like homophobia-free societies!

cultural differences! age differences! height differences!

heists, rescue missions

character driven narratives

dragons, fairy tales, magical realism, urban fantasy

Space AUs

competent characters

people not realising they’re the most competent at their job/hobby

people failing their way to success

happy endings, earning your happy ending, open yet hopeful endings

cynical humour

mutual pining

everything is better in suits, corsetry, fancy dresses

crossdressing

Identity shenanigans (secret identities, mistaken identities)

Blatant Lies

Enemies becoming friends and/or lovers

outsider POV

epistolary, poetry, unusual narrative formats

orange/blue morality (that is, not entirely human morality); grey/grey morality

non-verbal expressions of affection

Kinks I’m always down for:

wall sex

shifting power dynamics

semi-public sex

lots of foreplay, drawn out orgasms, edging

desperate sex, drunk sex, we-just-can’t-help-it!sex, sex for life-affirming

sex toys

sex toys in public (though I get embarrassed if someone else notices)

DNWs:

infidelity in mentioned pairings

suicide

permanent character death

Yuri!!!on Ice

Pairing: Lilia Baranovskaya/Okukawa Minako

Freeform Tags: Getting Together, Established Relationship, Interpersonal Drama, Smut, Character Development

How do these two know each other? Did they meet when Minako was a shining new ingenue? Did Lilia feel like her position was threatened, or did she teach her replacement? Was Minako perhaps the reason for Lilia/Yakov's divorce, or was she perhaps Lilia's rebound? (I would love if there was a presence of time and place in this, if the characters background would be a strong drive for whatever they are doing, but PWP would be great too)

…they are my favourite pairing coming from Yuri!!! on Ice, because they seem so utterly competent, and have amazing life journeys, and yet they are only hinted at in the series.

I know I don’t want infidelity, except here I wouldn’t mind if Lilia and Yakov are married still (they could be separated, or just in an open relationship, or on their way to get a divorce, too)

Minako seducing an older, more experienced Lilia? Lilia seducing her bright-eyed ingenue

Minako and Lilia competing for the same roles, and admiring each other’s techniques without being able to admit it.

Or, during canon, applying their rivalry indirectly by competing with their skaters?

Les Trois Mousquetaires | The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas

Pairing: d’Artagnan/Athos; d’Artagnan/Jussac

Freeforms: Action/Adventure, Getting Together, Canon-Style Plot, AU - Canon Divergence, Fix-it fic

d’Artagnan/Athos

d'Artagnan pays so much attention to Athos, and his many swings of temperament, and he has such a crush on him! It's hard to tell if he wants to be him, or bang him, and I really really want the latter. When Athos says, he's sworn off of women, what he means, he's only interested in men, right? right? that is to say, I'd love canon divergence, where they end up together (and please, with the possibility of longterm happiness) If you want to set this before Milady's appearance, sure! If you want to set this after Milady's appearance, I would love to see the dramatic fallout of Milady flirting with d'Artagnan, or hurt/comfort after Athos kills his wife the second time.

Treville makes them root out the Cardinal’s spies out of his ranks! They have to spend a lot of time close together; or Treville makes them go on duty together, because Athos is very experienced, and that’s not the only thing he’s experienced with ;)

d’Artagnan needs help managing the estate the King grants him, and Athos lends a helping hand

I like a good helping about catholic guilt, but not just specifically about homosexuality.

d’Artagnan/Jussac

Then, there's also Jussac--and their rivalry is set up so well! The longstanding Cardinal's Guard against the new impulsive Musketeer? Perfection. And then Jussac disappears, and it made me so sad. So, rival hate!sex? Are they assigned to protect someone and have to arrange themselves with each other? Are they banding together for a greater enemy? Is one of them blackmailed for their sexuality, and they can only go to the other for help, because nobody is going to believe the gossip they have about the other? I'd prefer if the blackmail doesn't put emphasis on homophobia, just that the sexual behaviour was not socially acceptable.

They are wooing the same mistress. Because of reasons, they have to hide in her closet together, and the only reasonable recourse of action is banging each other.

Foiling an assassination attempt? getting imprisoned together, because they duelled in public?

I'd also be game for a total AU! But please preserve the general fucked up character dynamics, because they are what I like about this canon.

Gokusen (Manga)

Pairing: Sawada Shin/Yamaguchi Kumiko

Freeforms: Canon-Style Plot, Humor, Mystery/Procedural, Smut, Slice of Life

I want to see Yankumi/Shin as a couple so badly--and I would like to see how they interact with the world. Will Shin become a Yakuza member to oppose his father? Will Yankumi be accused of using the highschool as a Yakuza front? Will she still call Shin to come and help her beat up people when he's a fancy lawyer? How will the other groups react to Yamaguchi's boy toy?

How does Shin convince Yankumi to have sex with him? (A wonderful fic I got was with plenty of bad yakuza movies, which :D :D :D but I am always open for more! Maybe Shin speaks to Kumiko’s competitive spirit? Maybe he asks her to spite the police commissioner, by doing it in his house? Maybe there is some heavy kissing because they are trying to escape thugs/police/Kumiko’s students?) Is he getting kidnapped left and right before they actually get together because all and sundry already think they’ve been doing each other for years?

If they are already in an established relationship, how does Shin deal with Yankumi’s students (especially when one of them develops a crush)?

I’d be also super interested to see how other people view their relationship, like Shin’s father, Kumiko’s grandfather, the other yakuza groups, her students– or simply Kumiko and Shin setting out to fight an up-and-coming group of delinquents, rescuing kittens, or Shirokin, from an overzealous school commissioner?

I have no problems about depicting violence, or graphic criminal activities, but please no major crimes involving children.

Crossover Fandom

Pairings: Elle Woods (Legally Blonde)/Cher Horowitz (Clueless); Jane Marple (Miss Marple)/Phryne Fischer (Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries); John Constantine (Hellblazer)/Severus Snape (Harry Potter)

Freeforms: Canon-Style Plot, Mystery/Procedural, Smut

Elle Woods/Cher Horowitz

I imagine them meeting at a charity dinner, wearing the same dress and insisting that the other wears it better. Or through a sorority donation drive, where Elle lets her car get washed by girls in Bikini, and then they start flirting. Or, if you want to use the other Legally Blonde movie--how about Elle Woods running for Senate, and meeting Cher during a workshop for foreign policy? I'd love to see either one of them running for office, too.

I am here for all the tropes: does one of them have an ex who invited them to their wedding, and they really need a date? high school reunion? stranger at a bar?

Also excellent would be: Elle does criminal law, Cher is in charity work, and they need to solve this embezzlement case.

But I’m also here for the porn, because that would also be amazing. Or like, buying a house together. Getting married. Deciding to adopt a puppy together.

Jane Marple/Phryne Fisher

Do they meet during the war? We know Phryne was an ambulance driver, but maybe Jane's code division was a euphemism for spy work, and Phryne has to get her across enemy terrain? Would also love a story later in their lives, where they visit each other to solve murders and gossip about life.

teaming up to solve a murder!

teaming up to drive a poor inspector up the wall

teaming up during the war, codebreaking! and seeking comfort with each other

they went to girl’s school together, and now have to relive old glory days!

definitely here for Phryne and Jane being each other’s lesbian experience

John Constantine/Severus Snape

It's a pairing with everything I ever wanted: So much inferiority complex wrapped in a shabby facade with too much bravado and not enough sense of when to back down, and they're both such delightful fuck-ups and it's glorious. I mean, this is definitely not the first evil person who John Constantine wanted to fuck, and it's nice that he sometimes helps out with the more structured magic. AU's are great, as long as they both keep their magic, and their general personality. Would also read a Severus-Snape-Lives!AU in which he's resurrected because the devil didn't want him, or whatever, or he goes to the US to hide with a more Legends of Tomorrow!Constantine. Basically, anything is good.

they’d be so glorious together! I’m here for all the fucked-up-ness this pairing can generate

hatesex? sex pollen? :D i hate repeating myself, but really, anything would be great; I’d love a AU in which John convinces Severus to not join the death eaters because they are all wankers anyway

or a AU in which Severus survives and joins John on madcap adventures trying to survive eldritchs horrors

or like, a one-night-stand that ends in Severus hearing the prophecy and defecting from Lord Voldemort

also, I’d love if they’d bonded up over their chavness, or something. really, anything would be great

Original Work

Freeforms: Smut, Getting Together, Mystery/Procedural, Action/Adventure, Humor

17th Century French King's Male Musketeer/17th Century French Cardinal's Male Guard

The Musketeer/Cardinal’s Guard request comes from my love of 'enemies to lovers' and 'love across enemy lines'. The real life feud between the two corps is a great premise for this! I'm more interested in the adventures they have. How do they resolve it? Do they end up getting new jobs, or succeed in ending the feud, or forever pretend to hate each other?

(See also my prompts for d’Artagnan/Jussac for a more specific pairing of this dynamic!)

Some interesting prompts:

The King requests that they work together to... guard a diplomat? foil an assassination? root out some bandits?

They start wooing the same woman, but then it turns into some strange kind of one-up-manship, and then it turns into gay chicken, and then it turns into a proper relationship and when they retire they get a cottage in the woods somewhere

they hunt down the thief who stole the King’s jewels and happen to get into a storm. Luckily, there’s an inn not far from where they are, but when they get there, there’s only one bed...

Art Thief/Museum Curator

This is also an excellent request for enemies to lovers! Do they meet during a casing of the joint, all the while the museum curator thinks the art thief is just a normal art appreciator? Or the Thief becomes an art thief because the museum curator is bemoaning that more and more of the art disappears into private collections far away from the public eye?

I’m here for all the identity shenanigans! maybe the curator realises their new lover is a thief, and they deliberately talk about paintings that they’d like to see, and fake incredulity when they’re suddenly rediscovered?

fake dating that turns into real feelings?

I have no preference for gender combination! I’d love this dynamic absolutely anywhere, anytime. Singapore 2018? Paris 1940? New York 1920? Set in space?

Or like, the museum curator finds them in the act of stealing, and is more upset about how they keep handling the priceless art than the actual stealing (it belongs to the jerkass major who cut funding for the arts, you see)

Master Thief/Put Upon Art Restorer Just Trying To Do Their Job FFS Steal This One Next Week

Basically, the same prompts as above apply! I’m very interested in this rivalry! How does it play out? Does the Thief only steal sanctioned paintings? Does the art restorer understand what kind of power they have?

Is the Thief trying to slowly seduce the art restorer by getting them “new” paintings to restore, and the art restorer is just... very done with this.

perhaps the thief keeps faking these very elaborate paintings, and aging them with all sorts of techniques, and the art restorer is just, like “why would you do this to art?”

Female Mobster/Woman Who Is Running Their Front As A Legitimate Business

I love the dynamic of scary person/person who is not afraid to talk shit about them -- and I can see the endless conflict there could be between the two of them. What is this Front? A restaurant? An orphanage? A charity organisation? Either one would be great, and need a lot of know-how, and the female Mobster can just suck it up and keep hauling in the crates, because they need this, dammit.

One gets kidnapped by rivals, and the other has to go in to save her

the mobster was just looking for someone to run the front-- they don’t need it to make any profit, since it’s just a front, but now it’s evolving into an actual business conglomerate, and all thanks to one woman--success is very attractive

Selkie Pirate Captain

Look, okay, I love Age of Sail, and I love fairytales. I just think the adventures of a pirate captain selkie could be super interesting!

Do they fret about the crew finding out about their secret? I’m very into found family tropes, and it would be very interesting to see how the crew reacts to the reveal. Perhaps they’ve known all along? And tried to protect their captain to the best of their abilities?

The best thing about selkie captains is that they are resistant to sirens, and they can always find the way home, in every storm

I’d read about them going treasure hunting! Or perhaps captain is after a Great White Whale and their life’s mission is to see it dead

would also read a shipfic! (heh)

#exchange letter #fandom5k letter

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tentori21 · 7 years

Text

SLBP Choose Your Own Adventure Prologue Teaser

I posted this on my writing blog laaattteee last night and forgot to post it here ^_^;

It was a very clear day as I looked up at the sky. A few wispy clouds flitted by on the spring breeze, painted orange, crimson, and purple by the freshly setting sun. It was busy tonight; all the rooms had been booked and I was told several important lords were going to be here. I stood inconspicuously outside in plain clothes watching people filing into the expansive restaurant and teahouse where I worked. Rumors passed the lips of the people all around me about how the Oda were in town. I suspect that was the rather large group I saw roaming around earlier.

“You aren’t thinking of running again on a night like tonight, are you?” A gruff man’s voice called to me from the door way. “You know Milord is counting on you to entertain our top clients tonight.” I turned my attention from the twilight sky to him. It was the samurai assigned to guard me. Well more like he was my warden.

“I know… Lord Azai Nagamasa and some of his retainers are here tonight.” I replied feeling the energy already leaving my body as I trudged towards the door. “Rumor has it the Oda reserved a large room as well but did not request me.”

“Neither did Lord Nagamasa.” He explained following me through the bustling corridors. “However, the Asakura are trying to romance them so we need to present our best.” I nodded as we headed upstairs to my room. He left me to change into my very formal attire and all the trappings. If any of the lords had seen me on the street, they wouldn’t recognize me now with all this makeup on and my hair back. I hefted my koto into my arms and headed downstairs to the room I knew the Azai were in. As soon as the door slid open I saw Lord Nagamasa and his gorgeous wife Oichi. The rumors of her unparalleled beauty were so true I found myself a bit speechless. He quickly noticed me at the door and motioned for me to come in.

“Forgive me my rudeness.” I said quietly as I pressed my head to the floor. “I thought I had somehow died and a heavenly creature had come for me…”

“Mejiro?” Lord Nagamasa’s head quirked to one side as he regarded me. “It is you! You’ve grown so much since I saw you last!” He beamed excitedly. “What were you talking about?”

“Your wife, Milord. Truly the rumors of your beauty pale in comparison to the reality of your radiance, Lady Oichi.” I replied bowing to her. She hid her face with her fan as she giggled.

“Who is this charming young lady?” She asked regarding me carefully.

“This is Asakura Mejiro. Well Mejiro is her childhood name. I have known her for years but I haven’t seen her in quite some time. This is a great treat!” Lord Nagamasa mused delighted as I moved my koto and settled myself in a far corner.

“Wait… Mejiro?” Lady Oichi quirked her head to the side as she regarded me even more intensely. “The Songbird of Kyoto?” I looked up at her, careful not to meet her eyes. Her face was glossed over in anticipation.

“That is what some people call me…” I replied a bit apprehensively. She suddenly burst into absolute glee.

“Oh Nagamasa!” She sighed romantically. “You set this all up didn’t you? You knew I wanted to hear the rumored Songbird of Kyoto and you feigned ignorance to keep it secret!” Since she was looking right at a bewildered Lord Nagamasa I snuck him a wink and a nod.

“Well what kind of husband would I be if I could not indulge you from time to time.” He answered quickly as he turned to her with a smile. She was absolutely glowing, her love for him clear on her face.

“I am truly honored that the magnificent Lady Oichi wished to hear me perform. I shall give you nothing less than my best performance!” I beamed before putting fingers to the strings. “Do you have a request?” She shook her head no so I just started playing. She seemed to hang on each chord, every word making her eyes shine brighter. When I finished the first song, she seemed fit to burst.

“Do you find my performing to your liking, Milady?” I asked hopefully.

“Nagamasa.” She turned to her husband looking rather stern. “When the Asakura come to Odani next I demand she come with them. I would like for her to play for us at the feast.” I stiffened slightly and looked toward Nagamasa.

“Well I will certainly speak to the proprietor, he’s a friend of mine in the Asakura clan. And her Father as well. Her Father will certainly be coming as an advisor and bodyguard. I don’t see why she couldn’t come with him…” Lord Nagamasa looked to me then back to Lady Oichi. She liked his response.

“Please sing for us more!” She beamed turning back to me. Her radiant smile putting me at ease.

“As you wish, Milady!” After only an hour or so, I heard a commotion in the hall. I paid it no mind as it died down quickly enough. That is until the doors opened and the lord and proprietor bid enter.

“Please forgive the intrusion, my friend.” He went on in a congenial tone as he sat down before Lord Nagamasa and Lady Oichi. “You may be well aware Mejiro has a bit of a reputation. It seems another customer is requesting her.”

“Ah. I see. That is well enough, I doubt I could get Oichi to leave so long as she can keep listening to Mejiro play. She is quite taken with her.” Lord Nagamasa replied with a bracing grin.

“I am glad to hear you enjoy her performance so.” The Lord Proprietor grinned in fake relief. “We do aim to please!”

“Then you’ll permit her come to perform at Odani for us when the clans meet next. I will not take no for answer.” Lady Oichi announced rather than asked, her features firm yet dignified.

“But… but of course, Milady!” The Lord Proprietor stammered as he bowed deeply. He had no choice now but to let me go, whenever the meeting might be. “If you will excuse us…” We both bowed deeply once more. I followed my Lord but stopped just inside the door.

“It was nice to see you again, Lord Nagamasa.” He smiled and nodded.

“Take care, Mejiro.” I smiled and nodded back before leaving the room and closing the door.

“Lord Oda Nobunaga heard you singing and demanded you entertain him.” The Lord Proprietor hissed in my ear as he grabbed me by the neck. “You had better impress him or he might just kill you…” He squeezed my neck loosely as a warning. “If he doesn’t… I will…”

“And lose one of your most lucrative meal tickets? I doubt that…” I scoffed yanking his hand from my throat before dropping to my knees before the door opposite the Azai. He got down on his knees and announced us before sliding the door open. I shuffled into the room behind him with my koto and sat down, smiling brightly in the corner.

“This was the singer?” A man with piercing grey eyes scoffed as he regarded me with nothing short of disdain. “She looks like nothing more than another one of the painted dolls you keep around here. Bring me the real singer or I’ll have your head on a plate instead of whatever this sorry excuse for food is.” He gestured vaguely to the spread of food before him with his closed fan. As much as I wanted to laugh at how my Lord was squirming, I knew I would pay for it later. Before he could make any explanation, I took a kerchief from my sleeve and started to wipe the makeup from my face. All the while I sang and sang. When I was done, I looked over at the man with a serene look on my face.

“If painted dolls are not to your liking, perhaps this is more to your tastes, Milord Oda.” I went on as he settled himself in a sitting position. The Lord Proprietor quickly turned his gaze back to Lord Oda Nobunaga.

“Unless you plan on bringing me something acceptable to eat, get out of my sight.” He snapped eying the proprietor in a rather disinterested manner. My Lord excused himself quickly, leaving me to the wolves of the Oda clan. Or at least that’s what I thought… Lord Nobunaga settled himself comfortably and looked me over discerningly. “You’re the nicest dressed painted doll here. You must truly be the best… But then again if you were the best, why didn’t they bring you before me first instead of that shrill harpy?” He asked as I folded the kerchief up and returned it to my sleeve.

“It is often said that my singing is a novelty, Milord. People are only interested in hearing it because I cannot sing in the popular style. That I have no real or true talent.” I explained as I strummed a song on the koto. “Perhaps, the Lord Proprietor thought it offensive to someone has great and powerful as Lord Oda to present someone such as myself to you right off.” I added trying to hold firm in the face of the man known as the Lord of Hell.

“No real or true talent?!” An older samurai exclaimed boisterously, startling me just enough that I almost played the wrong chord. “Those people cannot appreciate real talent and art then!”

“Well said, Lord Katsuie!” The man sitting next to Lord Nobunaga quietly agreed.

“That last one really was shrill. I thought my ears were going to explode.” A samurai in a pink kimono muttered before knocking his drink back.

“If you keep saying things like that, the only marriage you’ll have is to a flask of sake, Puppy.” The samurai next to him teased.

“The Hell you say?”

“Enough you two…” The man beside Lord Nobunaga chided them gently before looking to me once more. “Forgive me, but have we met before?”

“I believe so, although we were both much younger. You were being aided by my family. Well a more powerful branch of it, that is, Lord Akechi.” I replied with a sanguine smile. He looked at me thoughtfully for just a moment longer before the distinct look of dawning realization struck his features.

“You were one of the young girls that visited Ichijoudani from time to time… We used to play shiritori and read poetry.” His lips formed a pressed smile. “I’m afraid I have forgotten your name though.”

“You probably knew me by my childhood name. Asakura Mejiro.” I replied continuing to strum a new song.

“Yes, of course…” He shook his head slowly. “You’re the Songbird of Kyoto then, aren’t you?”

“I am honored my reputation has traveled so far as the lands of Owari.” I replied with a bow.

“Enough talking. If you’re a songbird then sing.” Lord Nobunaga huffed.

“As you wish, Milord.” Despite his rather rough demeanor with my Lord, Lord Nobunaga contented himself to eat desserts, drink tea, and listen to me sing. The Oda were not at all what I expected. They praised me after every song and were constantly asking after me to pour their drink or to let them pour a drink for me. They were a very lively group, especially Lord Shibata Katsuie and Lord Maeda Toshiie.

“Lady Mejiro.” Lord Katsuie addressed me very seriously. “If I were ever graced with a daughter I should hope she be half as talented as you!”

“Perhaps you shall have your wish if I buy her and take her back to Owari.” Lord Nobunaga mused with a mischievous grin. “I might permit you to adopt her.” I hid my face behind my sleeve and feigned a giggle. He was not the first to suggest negotiating I leave with them, he would not be the last.

“You honor me with such praise.” I bowed to him but when I raised back up the look on his face was completely serious. “Oh…” I gasped quietly before I could stop myself, his piercing eyes seeming to see right through me.

“Do you not think I could make it so?” He was testing me.

“I know not what monetary value Milord would place upon me. Nor do I claim to know what you would be willing to pay for a novelty such as I, Lord Oda.” I answered honestly as I saw no better recourse. I dared not shrink away from him though, something told me weakness was not something he accepted.

“If I am to buy something, I only buy the best quality. People are no exception.” The look on his face, the tone of his voice, the way he said it as if it were nothing… I knew he was serious.

“I…” I tried to speak but words failed me to start with. “I am so flattered I cannot even speak…” I stammered out feeling my cheeks growing very flushed. “Thank you for such high praise, Milord.” I bowed to him deeply, pressing my forehead to the floor. For my efforts, I earned a satisfied smirk from Lord Nobunaga.

“All this talk of buying people is rather off putting, don’t you think?” Lord Toyotomi Hideyoshi cut in with a lighthearted tone. “Let’s get back to singing and drinking!” Although I would never dare hope for it, I secretly wished Lord Nobunaga could have bought me and taken me away that day… Alas, the Fate of Tragedy was not done with me…

#slbp nagamasa #slbp oichi #slbp nobunaga #slbp mitsuhide #slbp katsuie #slbp inuchiyo #slbp toshiie #slbp hideyoshi #slbp #choose your own adventure #choose your own story #why did i decide to do this #oh yeah #i'm a masochist

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