#napoleonic rpf

[armagnac-army]

OOC: The Napoleonic Askblog/Roleplay Scene Directory

Here's an Out Of Character post listing the blogs I'm aware of in the Napoleonic RPF Roleplay Scene! It's OOC because Lannes would want to make sarcastic remarks with typos.

If you want (or don't want) your blog on this list, message me and whether you want a main/other blog associated with your name or whether you want to be anonymised! Also happy to include non-Frenchmen and Frev folks.

Doubles or multiple versions of people are welcome, this is a varied afterlife. We all have our different ideas for what this afterlife is like as well.

Feel free to reblog or link to this!

The Marshalate

@armagnac-army - Jean Lannes, Duke of Montebello - played by @cadmusfly

@murillo-enthusiast - Jean-de-Dieu Soult, Duke of Dalmatia, and ADCs - played by @cadmusfly

@le-brave-des-braves - Michel Ney, Prince of the Moskva, Duke of Elchingen, and ADCs - played by @neylo

@your-dandy-king - Joachim Murat, King of Naples - played by @phatburd

@chicksncash - André Masséna, Prince of Essling, Duke of Rivoli, and others - played by @chickenmadam also playing as his ADC, with appearances from Marshal Augereau, the Cuirassier Generals d'Hautpoul and Nansouty, and the Horse Grenadier General Lepic

@your-staff-wizard - Louis-Alexandre Berthier, Prince of Neuchâtel and Valangin, Prince of Wagram - played by @chickenmadam, as above

@perdicinae-observer - Louis-Nicolas Davout, Prince of Eckmühl, Duke of Auerstaedt - played by @mbenguin

@bow-and-talon - Laurent de Gouvion Saint-Cyr, Marquis of Gouvion-Saint-Cyr

@france-hater - Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte, or Charles XIV John of Sweden

The Grande Armée

@general-junot - Jean-Andoche Junot, Duke of Abrantes - played by @promises-of-paradise

@askgeraudduroc - Géraud Duroc, Duke of Frioul, Grand-Marshal of the Palace - played by @sillybumblebeegirl, also with cameos from Marshal Bessières shared with your-dandy-king

@trauma-and-truffles - Baron Dominique-Jean Larrey, Surgeon to Napoleon and the Imperial Guard - played by @hoppityhopster23 who also plays his modern assistant

@generaldesaix - Louis Charles Antoine Desaix de Veygoux, most likely would have been a marshal if he lived - played by @usergreenpixel

@messenger-of-the-battlefield - Marcellin Marbot, aide-de-camp of maréchal Lannes - played by @a-system-of-nerds

@le-dieu-mars - Jean-Baptiste Kleber, General - played by @chickenmadam

The Bonaparte Family

@carolinemurat - Caroline Murat née Buonaparte, Queen of Naples - played by @usergreenpixel

@alexanderfanboy - Napoleon Bonaparte, The Big Cheese

@frencheaglet - Napoleon II, also known as Franz, Duke of Reichstadt, played by @usergreenpixel

@rosie-of-beauharnais - Rose Beauharnais, also known as Josephine Bonaparte, once Empress of the French

Other Notable Personages

@askjackiedavid - Jacques Louis David, neoclassical painter - played by @sillybumblebeegirl

Russians

@the-blessed-emperor - Tsar Alexander I, the Blessed

@loyal-without-flattery - General Aleksey Andreevich Arakcheev, who runs His Imperial Majesty's Own Chancellery

#napoleonic rpf #napoleonic roleplay scene #napoleonic roleplay #historical roleplay #historical rpf #out of character #organisational documents

[perdicinae-observer]

Title.

Urgh, how do people normally start this... Fancy greetings? Right, right. Hm...

Afternoon. (That was not fancy at all.)

This is Marshal Louis-Nicolas Davout writing. Or...well, typing.

I've decided to finally excuse myself from my moping session solitude and venture into unknown territory that is this strange platform. (Which I have been...observing from a distance.)

Seeing as my late colleagues have been up to some...shenanigans on this platform, I might as well find something to amuse myself with the ample time I'm given and do some...[*grimaces*]...socialising.

[*sigh*] I'm going to regret this...

So, to whoever may see this and care; you are free to send me your questions, letters, and queries regarding whichever subject you wish. I will be reading through and answering them accordingly when I am not busy tending to domestic matters around the painfully quiet estate.

However, do be mindful of the things you send. Respect goes both ways and I do not like to squabble. Unless it's against certain bastards.

Unsavoury comments regarding my hair will swiftly be ignored and used as fuel for the fireplace.

...Don't expect me to initiate interactions much. Sorry.

Regards,

L Davout.

!! This is a joke RP account run by @mbenguin, a guy who is in no way shape or form a bona fide historian-- just really enthusiastic about balding dead nerds and French history! This is in no way meant to be accurate, analytical, or faithful 100% to reality despite being based on actual historical facts to a certain degree. This is a fictionalised parody that is meant to be in-character as possible to my interpretation of the man himself and I'm doing it for shits and giggles !!

Handy list of folks participating in this madness (whose exchanges will be tagged separately!)

Events ──

Birth of "Lenoir", Hell's cutest ink demon chick

Local old man turned into the cutest owl ever, more on page 2

Princess of Eckmühl(?)

Tags ──

#correspondance de Savigny-sur-Orge -- The marshal's replies to his letters- sent straight from his humble, lonely manor. Could both be written and spoken answers.

#dépêches personnelles -- General responses/exchanges

#proclamations du Prince d'Eckmühl -- Important announcements/event messages

#représentations par la mystérieuse étranger -- Drawn visual representation by the marshal's mysterious companion...

#galerie d'oiseaux -- Collection of bird images that 'tickled his feathers.'

Be careful when asking questions regarding Aimée or his family!

#a wild davout appears! #proclamations du Prince d'Eckmühl #historical rpf #napoleonic rpf #napoleonic shitpost #louis nicolas davout #napoleon's marshals #rp blog #ask blog

[cadmusfly]

Cad Does Dragon Sketches

napoleonic marshalate dragons au chronological tag

ideas for some dragons in the Marshalate Dragons AU - in particular Lannes, Junot, Soult and Bessières

i do not know how consistency works but hey designs, but if anyone has other or alternate ideas I would love to see them too!

I’m liking the idea of basically having the dragons here be more birdlike/dinosaur like with feathery manes, to distinguish them from the very reptilian-inspired-by-butterflies Temeraire dragons - also they can have more whacky and weird varied body shapes and body plans, most have bat wings but some have bird wings and Junot can have both-in-one as a treat

The little stick men drawings next to the standing dragon sketches are vague size estimates but I’m awful at spatial reasoning and picturing things in my head so it’s very approximate

Bonus

#cadmus rambles #cad rambles about dead Frenchmen on main #marshalate dragons au #napoleonic rpf #historical rpf #cad talks about worldbuilding

[goddammitjosef]

josef if u write a napjuno fic i'd explode fr

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1MgXDWOZuKM-NecdmiuvoYfCHAPG6kvSIQXel0QTtMG8/edit?usp=drivesdk

here you go <3 [kiss]

im not putting this on ao3

trigger warnings under cut

Warning: homophobia, sexual assault, detailed descriptions of violence,

in the words of tyler the creator

junot isnt a good person here, im not defending his actions in my fic, dont assault people

#napjuno #napoleonic rpf

[josefavomjaaga]

Snippet from an abandoned napoleonic story

No, I will not even pretend this is still a WIP. But I've stumbled across this tiny bit with Lannes (and spouse) again and thought maybe somebody would enjoy it. Translations, as always, by DeepL.

For context: the female protagonist, E., has recently married into the high society of Paris, and her husband gives a ball on that occasion. She has to do the "honneurs", i.e. greet the guests from court, without actually knowing anyone (a servant whispering the names to her). The Lannes are invited, too.

[…] With a guarded smile but in a most familiar manner, Madame Lannes clung to the arm of a slender, sinewy Gascon who strode in with the self-assured bearing of someone who had organised the entire ball for his own sake. The marshal offered his congratulations in a flurry of words more chirpy than courtly and then immediately enquired which of his colleagues had already arrived. "You know, the best ball is useless if you only have Marets and Talleyrands for entertainment, no offence. Is Masséna here yet?" "The marshal has just arrived, together with his spouse," E. assured him. Her reply met with incredulous astonishment. "With his wife? Really?" He straightened up, seemed to spot the aforementioned gentleman, who with his companion was still standing close to Berthier, and grinned broadly. "Oh, no, no, that's not his ..." "Lannes!" His spouse (at least E. assumed that this was indeed Madame Lannes) gave E. an apologetic look and imperceptibly shook the marshal by the arm. His grin widened a little and he gave E. a shrug. "As long as the invitation says 'Madame Masséna'. The rest is unimportant, right? Come on, Louise, let's go give him and Berthier a paw." He dragged his wife away by the arm. "Hey, Masséna, ye old philanderer!"

#napoleon's marshals #napoleonic rpf #writing

[phatburd]

Everyone else is sharing their writing today, so have a snippet of something I’m working on. 👋

#charles pierre augereau #my writing #napoleon's marshals #napoleonic rpf

[murillo-enthusiast]

—·—·—·—

𝐿𝑎 𝐺𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒 𝑑𝑢 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑒́𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑙 𝑆𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑡

… Bonjour. This is Marshal-General Jean-de-Dieu Soult, though I do seem to be incarnated as I was when I served the Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte. Do not ask about my allegiances.

My colleague Marshal Lannes has hosted some correspondence for me at @armagnac-army. I suspect I will primarily respond to queries through that channel, but this is another channel through which I may be contacted.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have paperwork to attend to. Any queries can be addressed to the “ask box”, and my aides-de-camp will redirect them to me - if they are not drunk again.

We're not drunk all the time! --ADC Saint-Chamans Indeed, just most of the time! Greetings, dear reader, we are Marshal Soult's aides-de-camp. I am Alfred de Lameth, and in this medium I am accompanied by the indefatigable Alfred de Saint-Chamans, the sensible Louis Brun de Villeret, the observant Auguste Petiet and the botanical Jean-Baptiste Bory de Saint-Vincent. Our text will be marked in these colours, though the colours will vary if we are confined to, ah, "mobile". Do not be too intimidated by our marshal, and do send us inquiries! --ADC Lameth

—·—·—·—

Out Of Character

(( Hi! This is a joke RP ask blog run by @cadmusfly portraying the surly strategist Marshal Jean-de-Dieu Soult (wikipedia link), one of Napoleon's elite military commanders, and his quirky bunch of aides-de-camp!

Jean-de-Dieu Soult is mostly known for being a plunderer of priceless artworks and wanting to rule Portugal under the name "King Nicolas".

However, it's much more likely that he pressured monks into selling him those artworks for cheap while he was invading their country, and that he was trying to divide and conquer Portugal politically rather than actually wanting to be king - which isn't better, in all honesty. But it is fascinating!

This is in no way meant to be a faithful, accurate or analytical depiction of the actual historical figure Jean-de-Dieu Soult or his staff officers, nor is it meant to condone their actions or offer any historical commentary. This is also primarily focusing on his life during the Napoleonic Wars, but if you want to, I dunno, ask about his life as Prime Minister cozying up to the Orleanists or the French Foreign Legion, I will go look at Wikipedia and come back to you!

This version of Soult and his men does have a bit of Worldbuilding Lore about their existence in the afterlife, but it's not necessary to know to interact with him.

So feel free to ask this grumpy asshole or his entourage of weird ADCs anything!

I also play a very loud Marshal Jean Lannes at @armagnac-army! ))

—·—·—·—

Logistics

Directory of my Colleagues and Other Notable Personages - They will be filed under the "blog usernames".

Tags

proclamations from the duke of dalmatia - Announcements, proclamations and "self-posts".

the duke of dalmatia's correspondence - Letters and conversations with both anonyme askers and acquaintances.

the duke of dalmatia's aides de camp - The ADCs as a collective whole and their interactions.

adc saint-chamans

adc lameth

adc petiet

adc brun de villeret

adc bory de saint-vincent

madame la maréchale’s correspondence - Louise Berg-Soult has occasionally been asked for her opinion.

pertinent - Pertinent "reblogs".

murillo - The magnificent works of the painter Bartolomé Esteban Murillo.

—·—·—·—

#proclamations from the duke of dalmatia #napoleonic rpf #historical rpf #napoleonic roleplay scene

[rosie-of-beauharnais]

an introduction ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

hello to all the ladies and gentleman behind the screen! it is my pleasure to acknowledge you as well, welcome to my "blog" (that´s how you young people call it, right?). the after life has become some how fulled with boredom— nothing to do, except for reflecting upon my past life... but now, i´ve finally pinned down what other contemporaries of mine have been doing so far on the "internet", so i shall know discover what is so amusing about this activity.

(more should be added as time passes. hi. im silly mysterious person who runs mme. beuharnais. this is just an escape to my workaholic student life).

!! (this is not, by any means, an at all accurate depiction of josephine beauharnais, and just should be taken on more as a unserious matter) !!

#((read lol)) #josephine´s proclamation to all of tumblr.com #napoleonic rpf #historical rpf

[your-dandy-king]

"What the fucking hell are you?"

Murat had been in this strange life he'd awakened into upon dying for quite some time now, enough to know that the rules and logic of the living world didn't apply in this place. And right now, several completely illogical things were staring right back at him.

He'd found it milling around between his family's inn and the old church across the square. It had pebbly grey and brown skin like a lizard's, feet that reminded him of the elephants he'd seen in Cairo, and a powerful parrot-like hooked beak. The most impressive thing were the three massive curving horns it had, long enough to impale a man easily. A gigantic frill or crest rose on its head like a bony fan.

Thankfully, Murat was already dead, so he didn't have to worry about getting impaled.

"Where did you come from?" He looked at them suspiciously. "Well, I don't know how you got here to La Bastide, or why, but shoo." He lifted the broom at it. "Clear off!" It stood taller than him, and was longer than several wagons put end to end.

His broken heart had kept tugging him here to this afterlife recreation of his family's inn for the last few weeks. He was happy for Jean, he was, really. It still hurt though, and maybe his heart thought he'd find comfort in a place like this. And it was cozy and homey, if a bit lonely still. He couldn't magic people out of nothing, which had its good and bad points, but it meant this mimicry of his childhood village had no one else in it.

Then this thing had shown up while he'd been cleaning off the front steps of the inn. He had no idea where it'd come from or what it were called. Sometimes there were intrusions into his little slice of the afterlife, whether it be deliberate or accidental. This, he was guessing, was an accident.

"Go on, out," He waved the broom at the three-horned parrot beast. It looked at him dumbly with tiny eyes, and then it grabbed the end of the broom with its powerful beak and began munching on the straw. With one yank of its massive head, it pulled the broom out of his hands and continued to strip the remaining straw off the broom handle. Then it nudged him for more.

Great, he'd accidentally fed this stray whatever-it-was except it wasn't exactly like keeping a stray cat or dog. He reached out to pet it anyway. It snuffled happily.

Murat stroked it for a few more moments, the slow beginnings of an idea forming in his head. "You," he told the creature, "wait right here." He winked at it as if it were a beautiful woman. "I just need to get something, and then you and I, I think, are going to have the start of a fruitful relationship."

___________

So, @phatburd breaking OOC here, as the owner of @your-dandy-king, I feel obligated to explain what the hell is this.

Earlier today, I got the bright idea of giving Murat a horsie in the afterlife. Horseman needs his horse, seems natural, right?

Then while cleaning out my phone's camera roll, I found this image.

And my brain said, "Yes. Forget the horse. Murat needs a triceratops to ride on." And then I followed that train of thought to its completely illogical conclusion. I can't even.

I hope you enjoyed that though? 🫣

#weird shit #not really #napoleonic rpf #what the hell

[neylo]

Certainly not me eating the beef while having beef with all the other Napoleonic RP blogs.

Except for Duroc. Duroc is a baby.

#ney ask blog #napoleonic rpf

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

rate, from 1 to 10, weird Napoleonic ships that were on Ao3

I mean, what constitutes "weird"?

I am, after all, a purveyor of fine Galaxy Brained takes when it comes to pairings.

I suppose I will apply my not-at-all standardized or rigorous or consistent concept of "weird" with 1 being "whatevs/normal" and 10 being "we should marry because our brains are the same brains"

I am only taking non-real relationships. Like, no Napoleon/Josephine or Arthur/Kitty or whatever. Also no fictional things (so no Assassins Creed etc.)

Napoleon/Alexander I - 1. This is entry level Napoleonic shipping. People shipped it in 1806 and people ship it now. Weak in the weirdness category.

Napoleon/Duroc - I give this a 2 only because no one in 1806 was like "hmmm, let's make miniature portraits of them kissing". But it's also entry level. Not weak, though, because Duroc is tender and I love him. They're also a solid heart-break ship, but in a different way to Napoleon/Alexander

Jean-Baptiste Bessières/Jean Lannes - 5. Solid. They're marshals, it's going to be messy. It's going to be spicy. It's Bessieres, the man with the best nose and the biggest balls when it came to confronting Napoleon. And Jean "I call Napoleon a whore [affectionate] in public" Lannes. It's also a pairing I wouldn't have initially thought of, so points for originality.

William Pitt the Younger/William Wilberforce - 4. Not common, but that terrible Amazing Grave movie really set them up so it's less out of left field as one would think. Also Willy Pitt Jr. ran with a racy and wild crowd when young so I can see him making out with Wilberforce, drunk, at 5am and being like "it's fiiiiiine"

Napoleon Bonaparte/ Ludwig van Beethoven - FINNALLY some real meat on the bones! I give this a 9. This is a solid ship that I am now invested in, having thought about it for approximately ten seconds. Love it. Anyone who writes music for another person, only to have their heart shattered by that person, then just retitles it and is petty about it all - Glorious. Whoever over on AO3 that wrote some hard smut for these too, call me maybe?

Napoleon Bonaparte/Jean Lannes - another 1 to 2. Unoriginal. Everyone thinks of them after pondering Napoleonic pairings for more than ten minutes. Lannes was as clingy as Duroc but was feistier about it. Napoleon's heart shattered at both their deaths. Yes, yes, been there done that. Give me something weirder.

Napoleon Bonaparte/Arthur Wellesley - OBVIOUSLY I am here for this pairing. I give it only an 7 on the weird scale though because they are SUCH classic Enemies-to-Lovers that it's like...textbook. They might not have met in real life, but Arthur supposedly did save Napoleon's life on the battle field when that sniper had N in line of sight and asked for permission to shoot and A was like "we're generals fighting a battle, not assassins" or something along those lines. Also, BOY HOWDY have they met in my head. As always, any who ship them, ummmm look me up?

Alexander I/Metternich - GOOD. YES. This is a 10. This is a: hahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahh I love it. Bonkers. What even! Galaxy Brain. I will say, I wouldn't read anything with them because Alexander annoys me on a personal level, but I fully respect this ship and those that are into it.

George IV/Female OC - eh a 3. Purely because Prinny is usually not sought after material, in terms of fiction, so respect for that. But it's straight and not buck-wild as a concept so 3.

Fouché/Talleyrand - OK SO YES. But the ONLY reason this isn't getting a 10 and only like a 9 is that I thought of this when I was fourteen and if fourteen year old me was like "those two old men fucked but in a hate-fuck way" then I feel like it's sort-of low hanging fruit? BUT. It's also fucking WILD because of the two men involved so hence the high rating. Fouche and Talleyrand would ROLE in their graves and this delights me.

I’ve revised my thoughts on the above - they’re a 10. It’s weird. They’re absolutely a 10 together. Eat it, Charles-Maurice. 

Napoleon Bonaparte / Sir Sidney Smith - giving this a solid 9 because of rare-pair reasons and like William Sidney Smith was a Piece of Work personality wise and so was Napoleon and the two of them just like...fucking on a boat is delightful. Also, as Napoleon's prisoner for that while in Paris, I feel like it can go to some weird dark places which pleases me. 

Alexander I/Caulaincourt - 10. THIS IS A 10. WHAT EVEN. Sorry Caulaincourt and anyone is like above a 5 by virtue of involving Caulaincourt. Bless him. Napoleon would be j-e-a-l-o-u-s and hahahah oh man. Ohhhh man. yeah. this is for sure a 10.

Berthier/Napoleon Bonaparte - Ooooh I think this is a sweet 7.5. Maybe an 8. But it's an 8 that can call me maybe?? the person who thought this up? Berthier out here defenestrating himself because of Napoleon. Heartbreaking. Berthier all overworked and under appreciated - my love for the civil service continues. Yeah. This is a little weird, a little unepxected, but I roll with it.

Talleyrand/Napoleon Bonaparte - ok so I can't decide if this is a 10 or an 8. Because as soon as I saw this pairing I was like "YES. this is it. This is Gold" but then I was like "wait, though, it makes a lot of sense. I can make this work" which lowers in the weirdness category. what even is weird. Regardless of whether you feel it is an 10 or an 8 in your soul, the person who came up with it can invade my brain and heart all they want. Gout and all.

Ok - there are endless pairings in the Napoleon RPF tag on AO3 and I've picked from the first two tabs. There were some I didn't include for various reasons (Bessieries/Duroc, par exemple) but I hope you enjoyed.

And if anyone wants to take a swing at Talleyrand/Napoleon or Beethoven/Napoleon or Fouché/Talleyrand, I'm *here* for you.

#call me maybe #some of you with galaxy brains need to come talk to me #napoleonic rpf #ask #reply #I realized this person might have only wanted ten pairings rated on a scale with one number each but whatever #anon #napoleon boanaprte #arthur wellesley #duroc #talleyrand #marshals of the empire #lannes

[armagnac-army]

HOW TO NOT BE AN ASSHOLE IN ROLEPLAY BLOGS: A KINDA IN-CHARACTER GUIDE BY TWO FICTIONALISED DEAD FRENCHMEN AND THEIR ROLEPLAYER

Ahem!

This is an official communiqué from the Marshal Dukes of Montebello and Dalmatia!

We have the greatest faith in the conduct of those marching in our Grande Armeé and those that we associate with BUT this bulletin has been written wit hthe express objective of instructing you fine folk on PROPER ETIQUETTE in the context of "internet roleplaying!"

We welcome any corrections, comments or suggestions in either of our respective inboxes, or in the inbox of our roleplayer, @cadmusfly. We also do not intend for this curricular to be construed as blaming anyone, while it is written in reaction to certain events and conversations that have occurred. We understand that some recent conscripts and recruits do not have the context and understanding of "roleplaying" that others may have, and we do not wish to cast judgement on people who do not know.

This is an instructional guide on certain concepts that are useful to be aware of when roleplaying, as well as an imperative on the golden rule: Do Not Be A Fucking Asshole!

~

Contents of this Proclamation:

On The Matter of Basic Courtesy (Mature and Intense Topics, Real Life Comes First, Different Roleplaying Styles)

On The Difference Between In Character And Out of Character

On the Subject of Emotional “Character Bleed”

On “Metagaming” or the Subject of Abusing OOC Knowledge

On “Godmodding” or the Subject of Writing Other People’s Characters For Them

On “Powerplaying” or the Subject of Winning All The Time

On Joining Existing Ongoing Conversations And Interactions

On Interacting With Non-Roleplayers

~

On The Matter of Basic Courtesy

First of all, while this is a mature roleplay scene that addresses topics such as violence, sexuality and so forth, we are asking you to PLEASE observe common courtesy!

Certain topics should not be approached lightly, especially as an anonymous ask or message! These include but are not limited to: non-humourous insults and harassment, suicide baiting/suicide encouragement, heavily sexual and/or non-con content, non-exaggerated detailed threats of violence and other things that, if sent to a non-roleplaying blog, would be considered to be abusive and rude!

By default, assume that most people do not want to receive those things! Those blogs that are okay with answering such asks should tag posts that clearly fall under one of those topics under an easily blacklisted tag such as “harassment” or “tw harassment” and the specific topic, so that others who don’t want to see that can filter that out.

If a roleplay involves such topics or involves topics such as detailed sexual content, be considerate and put that under a cut!

This is also a reminder that you are not required to answer every ask or message that you receive! You are not required to have your inbox open or to have it open to anonymous messages and you may close or open your inbox as you wish! You may delete messages at your will. -

Second, we will advise you to keep in mind the maxim that Real Life Comes First. We are not expecting you to dedicate all your time and energy to this roleplay and roleplay interactions. While it is pleasant to receive swift timely responses, we recognise that this is not often feasible. We therefore ask that you attend to your own needs before dedicating time to fiction.

This is an activity for entertainment, and it should remain entertaining.

However, it is polite that if you are engaged in an ongoing involved roleplay activity or interaction that is dependent on your interactions, that you update the other people involved in this activity if you foresee that you are unable to respond for an abnormally long period of time. An example of an ongoing involved roleplay that is dependent on common updates is the current incident with Murat and Bessieres nicknamed “Phantoms of the Opera”.

If you are also involved in such a thing and find yourself not responding for weeks or months, it is better to apologise and communicate rather than to expect yourself to one day pick it up again. This may sound ridiculous, but our roleplayer was involved in a Tumblr roleplay scene dedicated to lengthy third person prose roleplays, where the common length of response was a few hundred words per response. The roleplayer was committed to multiple of these roleplays at once, which proved to be a far too involved activity that had unfortunate repercussions.

Our particular roleplaying world is far more casual and far less involved than that, and not even “Phantoms of the Opera” is as involved or as time-consuming as those threads. But we bring up that past history to illustrate that communication is important, and roleplay should never feel like an obligation. -

Third, we are well aware that there are different roleplaying styles, different levels of proficiency with language, different levels of knowledge on the historical subject  and different viewpoints. We are grateful to see that nobody has been rude about this. But! We think it is worth asking people to be understanding about this matter! Be gracious and do not be an asshole, or we will have words!

In fact, if you and someone else's roleplaying styles clash or you're not having fun, you're allowed to not interact with them but be a goddamn adult about it!

Now, let us move on to some roleplaying concepts that it is prudent and useful to know.

~

On The Difference Between In Character And Out of Character

That being said, we will emphasize a few things such as In Character and Out of Character separation! In Character means actions and words that are taken by the character, while Out of Character means anything else that is not in the context of the roleplay!

(( For example, Out of Character stuff during a roleplay is usually denoted by two parenthesis, like this! This is me, Cadmus, speaking out of character - I've indented this to make this stand out from Lannes. Other OOC stuff includes, well, anything I say on my main blog or discord or whatever. OOC communication that relates to a roleplay often involves talking about things like planning plots, chatting about characters, etc! ))

It has surely not escaped your attention that this communique is written In Character, as an imagined collaboration between heavily fictionalised parodic depictions of Marshals Soult and Lannes. However, this bulletin is curious in that it depicts us as being aware of meta elements such as this roleplay. This is not intended to be part of either of the assumed narratives that is present on our "blogs", and is thus why this is labelled as "kinda in-character".

We are also aware that some people are playing themselves or fictionalised versions of themselves. There is nothing wrong with that, and it is gratifying to see that there is more acceptance for this than there historically was. But if you are roleplaying a fictionalised version of yourself, do be mindful of keeping IC and OOC separate.

Yes! It is important to make sure that In Character and Out of Character actions and emotions are separated! Two characters may have an argument that escalates into violence, but the roleplayers behind the characters should not feel ill will towards each other. That said!

~

On the Subject of Emotional “Character Bleed”

Emotions can run high, we know, and we are not saying that you cannot be affected by roleplay! There is a concept called Character Bleed where a roleplayer and a character can be influenced by each other’s actions; a character who is very angry at someone making their roleplayer feeling a bit irritated at the other character. Bleed is not inherently positive or negative - getting a sense of catharsis from good roleplay is considered to be bleed! 

This is an informative article on the idea of Character Bleed in the context of Live Action Roleplaying. We personally advise you to be aware of the concept of bleed and to be mindful of how you’re feeling. In the case that the roleplay is feeling far too intense or upsetting, we recommend talking to your roleplay partners about what is going on and/or stepping away from the roleplay and computer.

~

On “Metagaming” or the Subject of Abusing OOC Knowledge

We also will advise that it can be awkward if Out of Character knowledge is used to make In Character decisions in a way that confers undue benefits to the character! For example, if two characters are having a private conversation about one of them having an allergy to bread, and then another character later weaponises bread because they magically know about that weakness, that is rude of the roleplayer to have their character magically know what is private information!

(( This is known as "metagaming", when out of character knowledge is used to make in character decisions. A lot of people don't like metagaming! However, I'm actually of a slightly different opinion: metagaming can be fun if used correctly - that is, to complicate your characters' lives or create opportunities - but it has to be believable. For example, Soult showing up on Lannes' blog for coincidentally funny interactions is arguably a form of metagaming. I also enjoy having my characters make stupid decisions based on in-character reasoning, while I know or suspect that those decisions will lead to entertaining results based on my OOC knowledge! ))

We recognise that due to the fast and casual nature of this roleplay, ideas of what is private and what is not may not be understood in the same way by all people! When the Duke of Montebello is answering “asks” on a “blog”, sometimes it’s implied to be via a computer somehow set up in the afterlife, sometimes it’s implied to be via handwritten letters in some kind of bulletin, and sometimes it’s an in-person communication, or maybe it’s somehow all of those at once. This is a rather confusing state of affairs!

But generally, if two characters are sending private letters to each other or have marked something as private, that information is private.

Arguably, matters of historical fact may or may not be metagaming here. We do not wish to come to an actual judgement on this,  though we are leaning towards no as l’Art de Google (as invented by Jomini) is accessible to everyone for the most part. Our roleplayer prefers to play his characters as being ill-informed on matters past their deaths, but others do choose to play their characters differently in this regard!

~

On “Godmodding” or the Subject of Writing Other People’s Characters For Them

There is another concept called "godmodding" which is when one roleplayer narrates or specifies another roleplayer's character's actions or reactions. This is usually seen as rude, but is sometimes hard to work around with certain interactions such as fighting.

This is where communicating with the other roleplayer about intentions and getting permission to narrate what the other character is doing is a polite thing to do, or else deciding together on what the end result of the interaction is in advance. Otherwise, you can describe your character making an attempt at an action that impacts another character, but leaves the other character free to react.

Example! I punch Soult in his face! But I'm not going to be rude and say that my fist automatically connects with his face!

And I will reel back most ungracefully, my hand grasping at my face. It is also a little impolite to always dodge attacks and to always have the upper hand, so we do suggest occasionally letting your characters face some failures. To interact with someone who never loses is rather irritating.

If it makes sense for your character to know something about the other player’s character based on magical and supernatural abilities, we highly advise contacting the other player and asking if your character can have that information. If they say no, respect that answer!

~

On “Powerplaying” or the Subject of Winning All The Time

Related to the above two subjects is the topic of “Powerplaying”, also colloquially described as the “Ass-Pull”. Simply, this is when a character happens to have always have an “overpowered” advantage for any situation that is not established or grounded in previous facts established about the character. 

For example, we can consider an example where a group of intrepid adventurers have been captured and locked up, and then one of them says that they secretly learned since they were age five how to explode locks with their minds! If this character was established as having a predilection for lock exploding or psychic powers, this would be more excusable, but it frankly comes across as ridiculous and as a game of one-manupship if done repeatedly.

In this casual humorous roleplay world set in an ill defined afterlife, we do have a certain amount of leeway in having interesting characteristics! Certainly, the phenomenon of “Magic Anons” where magical effects are unleashed upon people is a source of entertaining and interesting consequences, and we do not begrudge playing around and exploring this and other interesting ideas!

We merely ask that you do not view the goal of a roleplaying interaction as “winning”. There are multiple ways to “win”, and ultimately the goal here should be thought of as entertainment!

All things in moderation.

~

On Joining Existing Ongoing Conversations And Interactions

Again, we will reiterate that some conversations may be private or in between a few people only. For example, again, the ongoing “Phantoms of the Opera” is/was open for additional participants, but they were advised to ask the GM (Game Master) - your-dandy-king’s roleplayer - or our roleplayer first.

As a general rule, if you are considering joining in an existing interaction, first we will advise that you judge the tone of the interaction. Most of the interactions are lighthearted and humorous, and such lighthearted humorous interactions are generally assumed to be open for anyone to comment on. However, a serious and heartfelt conversation is most likely not conducive to additional humorous banter. 

Secondly, we’ll say that communication is really useful! So if you really want to join in something and you’re unsure, just ask!

We’ll point out that roleplays that were open to all to join were marked as “Open” roleplays, while roleplays that only involved preset participants were marked as “Closed”. This terminology has not been used in this particular roleplay scene, but it’s a suggestion if you want to be very certain about stating that a particular ongoing interaction is open or not!

~

On Interacting With Non-Roleplayers

(( This is something that I’m personally not as certain about, because maybe the consensus has changed.. Basically, when I first used to do Tumblr RP in 2013 or 2014, it used to be considered rude for non-roleplayers and roleplayers to interact. It was like the two had their own different worlds. There were posts telling non-roleplayers not to reblog roleplayer threads. Nowadays, I don’t care and you are all free to reblog my roleplay threads onto your non-roleplay blogs if you want, but maybe someone might not want their roleplay threads reblogged and it might be nice to respect that. There was also a consensus about not reblogging non-roleplay posts with roleplay commentary. I’ve seen this happen a few times here and I’ve talked to a few people about it, and I don’t know how I feel about it! I do reblog things in-character occasionally - sheep for Lannes, nice art for Soult, occasionally info about both for both - but I try to make the tags fairly generic. I guess I’m a little paranoid about the idea that someone might be weirded out by historical RPF or roleplay happening on their posts. I won’t be telling people off for this, now that I’m writing this post, and it’s probably okay if the original poster of that post follows you, but be mindful of this. And probably keep it to a comment or two if you do! Don’t do long roleplay threads on non-roleplayers’ posts!))

~

We thank you for reading this instructional bulletin on roleplay etiquette and thank you for your participation. Now get out there and be polite fucking soldiers!

THIS PROCLAMATION IS THUS SIGNED AND AUTHORISED BY–

Le Duc de Montebello

Le Duc de Dalmatie ~

I better not get any talkback abot my spelling here!!! im not going to be unprofessional and distribute official announcements with a shitton of spelling mistakes!

You are welcome for the proofreading, Montebello.

#napoleonic roleplay scene #napoleonic rpf #historical rpf #dispatches from the marshal

[the-adventures-of-lydia-brown]

Phantoms of the opera - team Lannes

((Previously on Afterlife Shenanigans:))

Seeing their crucial source of light running in the direction of the noise, Lydia has to make a split-second decision: She shoves the spool of thread unceremoniously into Lameth's hand, commenting:

"The other end is tied outside."

Then, she launches herself in the direction of Lannes' party.

((Tag: @your-dandy-king, @murillo-enthusiast, @askgeraudduroc, @armagnac-army))

#napoleonic roleplay scene #napoleonic rpf #Lydia roleplays

[cadmusfly]

Only With The Light You Gave Me

Summary:

In 1813, after increased instability and erratic behaviour, Jean-Andoche Junot was sent to the village of Montbard to be cared for by his elderly father and family. This is not a recounting of what happened there, not exactly.

This is more of an incoherent rumination on the nature of something very much like sunlight.

Relationship: Jean-Andoche Junot/Napoleon Bonaparte

Fandoms: Napoleonic RPF, 19th Century RPF, Historical RPF

Additional Tags: Second Person POV, Past Relationship(s), Descent into Madness, Unrequited Love, Background Het

Words: 1256

Chapters: 1/1

Author’s Notes: Written for an art trade with @apurpledust based on a prompt about Junot at Montbard. I have no idea what happened here, it was fun to write and I hope you like it!

#jean andoche junot #napoleonic rpf #historical rpf #napjuno #cadmus writes #cadmus rambles #cad rambles about dead Frenchmen on main #descent into madness as a ao3 tag is not being used in the same way here as the other examples in the tag I feel

[apurpledust]

old doodle of napjuno🥺

#guys reading their 1926 rpf hurt me #they make me so sad uwu #found this in my drafts while cleaning it #napoleon #napoleonic era #jean andoche junot #napoleon bonaparte #napjuno #napoleonic #my art

[write-r-die]

By Tomorrow - Part 10

Masterlist

A/N: Long time no post! Hopefully I can get things rolling again!

Sybil sat back on her heels as she knelt beside the wooden rail that looked out on the hall below.

The door to Catherine’s room was directly behind her, the door still shut. She hadn’t bothered knocking yet; she wanted to remain where she was and see and hear what she could of what was going on below.

The men were shouting most of their words, so it wasn’t difficult to hear them, but they were speaking very fast and in Gaelic. Sybil knew a great deal of Scottish vocabulary, but the language’s grammar was mostly lost on her. She the gist of the conversation – bone, boy, horse, hunt, blood, and a handful of profanities of which she did not know the exact translation – but without knowledge of the finer details, she mostly had to riddle it out for herself.

The door to Catherine’s room creaked open, and her lovely face appeared. Her brows were furrowed. “What are you doing down there?” she asked.

“Shh!” Sybil grabbed Catherine by the wrist and pulled her down to sit beside her. “Didn’t you hear the commotion?”

Catherine’s look was blank and glassy; she must have just woken from a nap. “What commotion?”

“Ugh! Must I always explain everything?!” She made it sound like talking a lot was a great inconvenience to her; Catherine didn’t correct her on it.

She explained as much as she could: A group of Cavill warriors were hunting a deer that they thought crossed the border from Maclean territory into theirs. They did not realize someone else – one of the laird’s sons – was also pursuing it. Someone shot an arrow but didn’t aim well. They’d deduced that the arrow flew too close to the Maclean boy’s horse and startled it, bucking the boy from its back and possibly trampling him.

“The bone is sticking out of his leg, and they had trouble stopping the bleeding,” Sybil finished. “I think they may have to cut it off.”

“That’s awful!” Catherine said, covering her mouth with her hand as she leaned forward to look through the posts of the rail. A moment later, she turned back to Sybil. “Why are we hiding up here?”

“Henry told me to go into your room until he came to get me. I suppose he doesn’t think I have the stomach for it.”

Catherine frowns. “That’s part of it, I’m sure, but I think he doesn’t like the idea of you being close to a Maclean.”

“That’s very silly,” Sybil declared. “He’s not a proper Maclean now. At this moment, he’s just a boy with a bone sticking out of his leg. He’s younger than the triplets, for goodness sake! He couldn’t hurt me even if he wanted to.”

“I know and Henry knows that, too, but he’s not terribly rational where Macleans are concerned.” She looked at Sybil. How much did Sybil know about her husband – about his mother? Certainly not enough, if she didn’t understand why Henry was so agitated by a simple name.

On the main level, Arran had regained control of the situation. He was giving orders of some sort. His voice was loud but he wasn’t shouting. Sybil didn’t catch a word of it.

“What are they saying?” Sybil hissed to her friend.

Catherine shushed her as Arran pulled Henry aside. “Let me concentrate!”

***

“Henry,” Arran called.

“Yes, Uncle.” Henry came in close as his uncle gestured him to do so.

“I’m sending a party to the Maclean keep. The boy’s kin should be with him,” Arran said. “Some of them will come here. Do you understand?”

Henry swallowed hard. “Yes.”

What Arran wasn’t saying was that it was meant to be a peaceful “visit,” for lack of a better term. That meant that Henry had to keep his temper in check.

Arran nodded. A moment later, he added, “We cannot predict how they will behave. I don’t know where things stand with you and the lass . . .” He kept his voice low so that only Henry could hear. “But if you haven’t bedded her . . . you ought to do it now, before they arrive. In case any questions arise.”

Henry glanced upstairs towards Catherine’s door and was quite sure he saw Sybil duck out of sight just a moment too late.

Arran was right, of course. Henry and Sybil’s marriage could be dissolved if it was not consummated; he wouldn’t put it past a Maclean to force a priest into declaring an annulment and then, presumably, perform another wedding ceremony with Alexander standing as bridegroom as he was originally meant to.

Henry wouldn’t put anything past a Maclean, particularly the son of the laird. The laird, who beat a pregnant woman within an inch of her life with the intention of killing her unborn baby –

He couldn’t think about that now.

Henry clenched his jaw and nodded once. “Aye.”

***

Catherine and Sybil hustled back into the former’s room and pretended to be entirely at ease, acting as if there were not a dying boy downstairs and Sybil’s husband hadn’t just caught her snooping about like a disobedient child.

Henry had never been angry with her before, had he? She was fairly certain he wouldn’t shout at or frighten her – at least not intentionally – but the concept of his wrath still made her anxious. She’d been known to break into tears at even a stern look.

She was about to ask Catherine what would happen next when a knock sounded at the door.

Henry didn’t wait for a response before entering the room partway. He still had a hand on the doorknob, one foot behind the door, like he was hoping to hide part of his substantial form behind it.

“Your father wants you,” he said to Catherine. Sybil thought his voice seemed gentler than usual. It only added to her anxiety.

“What for?” Catherine asked.

His eyes darted to Sybil for the slightest moment before returning to his cousin. “I don’t know.” His voice was still soft.

Catherine shot a look at Sybil from the corner of her eye, measuring the other girl’s chances of breaking down if she and Henry were left alone. “All right,” she said after a moment.

Sybil started to reach for her arm, to pull her back and use her as a barrier between herself and her husband but she managed to stop herself.

Henry wondered if he should smile – if that would set her at ease. No. he would just look like he was grimacing, and that would make her very uneasy. He kept his usual expression in place.

Sybil was uneasy all the same. “Why are you making that face?”

“Sybil,” he began, “I think it’s time that I take you to bed.”

The color drained from her face. “You said that we could wait until I was ready.”

“I know, and I wish we could, but more Macleans are coming to see to the boy. We must be . . . properly wed . . . when they come.”

Properly wed. A marriage wasn’t true until it was consummated.

Henry led her by the hand through the keep and down the hill to their cottage. None of the men in the hall - God bless them - laughed or made lewd jokes as the pair passed through. Perhaps the men assumed the two had already slept together, so they didn’t think much of what was happening. 

Catherine was too engrossed in conversation with her father to spare a look in her friend’s direction as Sybil passed her at the top of the stairs - she probably wasn’t even aware that Sybil was leaving. 

Everyone else was shut up in their cottages, so there was no one to speak to them on their walk down the hill either. Most of the clan probably assumed their marriage was already consummated anyway. It was strange to wait this long.

Sybil focused her eyes on where her shaking hand was joined with Henry’s. It was big enough to swallow her own.

She was trying very hard not to cry. She was teetering on the edge of panic. You mustn’t weep, she told herself. You’ll only make it a thousand times worse. Be brave. It will be over and done within an hour.

But as they neared the cottage, her shaking only intensified.

Henry released her hand to open the door for her; she walked into the middle of the cottage. When she realized her proximity to the bed, she panicked. 

The door shut and Henry slid the bolt into place.

“It won’t fit!” she declared before he’d even turned around to look at her. 

Henry raised his dark eyebrows. “You haven’t even seen it yet.”

“I know it won’t fit.”

“How?”

She looked very intently at the wall. “That night when we slept in the cave . . . It - well, it grew in your sleep and I felt it and I know it won’t fit. Not easily. Not without . . .” Her face had lost all color. 

Henry took her arm and pulled her to sit on the edge of the bed before she had the chance to swoon. He knelt on the ground before her, gripping both of her hands in one of his.

“Why are you kneeling?” she blurted. It was a strange thing to ask, but it was a strange thing for him to do. “Don’t we both need to be on the bed in order - ?”

“I won’t hurt you, Sybil.” His voice was low but strong. “And if you think I would, then I have failed as your husband.” 

She was startled by his intensity. She couldn’t remember hearing such emotion in his voice except when talking about the Macleans. 

And they hardly knew each other. They hadn’t been married long enough for him to fail her.

“No,” Sybil said with a sniffle. “I mean yes. I do know you wouldn’t hurt me. Not intentionally. But you’ll hurt me no matter what. That’s not your fault, of course; all husbands hurt their wives when they . . .” She swallowed, trying to ease the familiar soreness in her throat that usually preceded tears. “But your good intentions do not change the fact it’ll be painful, and it certainly does not change the fact that I’m . . .”

“Frightened?”

“Terrified,” Sybil said. 

His brilliant eyes seemed to drill holes in her skull. “Of me?” his voice was low. Sybil was too worked up to notice that the idea upset him.

“No. Yes. Oh, I don’t know, Henry! Don’t ask me!” She lunged forward into his arms with such force that she knocked some of the wind from his lungs, forcing an involuntary grunt from him as his arms encircled her. She had no idea what emboldened her to embrace him, but it was either that or start weeping. 

She was holding him tight enough to break his ribs. Maybe that was her intention. “I know what I am doing,” Henry said. He meant to comfort her with this reassurance, but her face morphed into a mix of embarrassment, surprise, and disgust as she pulled back.

“Oh, don’t tell me that, Henry! I don’t know what I’m doing and I won’t be nearly as good as any of the other girls - have there been many others? No, don’t tell me! I don’t wish to know.”

“I know what I am doing,” Henry said again, speaking over her. He continued before she had the chance to interrupt him again: “I won’t kill you. I won’t maim you. Men and women do this all the time without anyone dying.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” Sybil said. Henry raised an eyebrow at her; she exhaled loudly and settled back against his chest. “All right. All right. I’m only working myself up, aren’t I? I am. You really shouldn’t let me speak, Henry. It only ever ends badly.”

“Let you?” he repeated. What he did or did not allow her to do was piss in the ocean. Christ Himself couldn’t shut this woman up. 

She remained firmly in place and showed no sign of moving anytime soon.

“Sybil?”

“Yes?”

“Are you hiding from me?”

“I’m not hiding,” she said against his chest, voice muffled. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He knew better than to contradict her. “All right.” He rubbed his hands across her back in broad strokes and she began to relax. He moved one hand to her outer thigh; she stiffened at first, but relaxed when it became clear he only meant to run his hand back and forth like on her back. He wasn’t trying to touch her there.

She seemed to like when he touched her in other places. He let his hands roam back up her body toward her breasts as he kissed a trail from her mouth to her neck. It didn’t chase away her fear, but it lessened it somewhat.

He pressed his lips to her throat. Her reaction was dramatic to say the least. 

She jolted as if struck with lightning and dug her fingers into his shoulders and started making these sort of gasping noises that she couldn’t control. 

Her reason dissolved into nothing as her husband shot lightning bolts all across her skin with his hands and his mouth. She couldn’t make sense of anything. 

She wasn’t aware of him removing either of their clothes, but suddenly they were gone and he was everywhere at once.

“Hold on now.” He carefully aligned himself at her entrance. He moved his hips forward to enter her the slightest bit as if to test the waters.

God, she was tight. 

She tensed when she felt him at her gated entrance. He thrust, but she was too tight for him to enter. His hardness was pushed up along her slit rather than into her passage.

Sybil made a little noise of pleasurable surprise when his head bumped against the bundle of nerves above her opening. “Isn’t that meant to hurt?” she whispered. 

He pulled away, sighing.

“Is it over?” Sybil whispered. “My stepmother told me that it’s often quick but…”

“No, sweetheart, it isn’t over.” He kissed her long and hard to distract her.

She started speaking again the moment he broke away for air. “There’s more? Can’t we please just get it over with? Catherine told me that the waiting is the worst part, worse than the act itself, and I don’t - aren’t we supposed to have it over and done with, anyway? Isn’t that why you said -”

“Shh.” Henry gave her a soft kiss to silence her, but she immediately started talking when their lips parted. She was still trembling, her body still balancing on the precipice of some great unknown. Henry didn't pay attention to her words - she wasn’t asking him to stop or slow down or complaining of pain or any such thing, just babbling. 

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Hold onto me.”

She did as she was told, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders as she let her trembling knees fall in opposite directions.

She was too foggy to be nervous, exactly. It was all so strange, so overwhelming that she felt separated from it all, somehow. Separate and yet entirely present. It made no sense. She was grappling at any hint of reason, a coherent thought - 

Using his hand to guide himself, he snapped his hips forward, using all of his brute strength to enter her in one swift motion.

The noise she made was something like a yelp, followed by a shallow sort of sob. 

The look on Sybil’s face was a mix of pain, humiliation, and anger. Tears dripped from her eyes. “You’ve ripped me apart!” she accused.

“Sybil,” he began, voice soothing and soft.

“You lied!” she said, practically sobbing. She didn’t notice Henry’s distress at harming her. “You did maim me. Something is broken or-or torn or - I know it!”

He hushed her. “Stay still. Try to relax.” She turned her face away when he tried to kiss her lips. He pecked her cheek instead. The hand he’d used to guide himself now glided soothingly up and down her side. “The pain will be gone soon.”

“You’re a liar.” she sounded almost petulant. The stretching sensation was just so strange - like she was a too-tight piece of clothing he was intent on fitting into but he just didn’t. He’d make it worse if he moved inside her. She would tear along the seams. “It hurts.” 

Henry returned to where he was before, hovering above his wife, his weight on both his elbows, their bodies pressed together, their faces only a few inches apart. 

Sybil wrapped her arms around his shoulders again, sniffling. She was still furious with her situation; putting her arms around Henry was a reflex, not a conscious decision. 

So was leaning into him. So was wanting him to hold her closer. 

Henry's body was at war with his mind.  She was also hot and tight and wet and his body shook with need. He might die if he stopped now; he’d hate himself if he continued.

He couldn't stifle his groan.

Sybil sniffed. “Are you hurting too?” She sounded relieved and concerned and somehow reassured by that thought. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he managed.

“Are we done now?”

Henry exhaled through his nose, nearly a sigh, and explained that they weren’t technically done until he finished. 

“Yes, finished,”  she said, sounding more like herself, “that’s what done means. Sometimes I forget that English isn’t your first language. I can instruct you sometime if you like.” 

His answering noise was something like a groan and a sigh and a laugh, and it was both exasperated and amused. He let his forehead fall against hers and rested it there. 

“Does it still hurt?” he murmured.

It wasn’t painful anymore but whatever it was, she had no name for it. Discomfort, perhaps?

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

She didn’t try to explain; she knew she would make no sense. “You can keep going.”

“Are you sure? I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“You need to . . .”

Henry brushed his nose over hers and it felt strangely intimate - even more intimate than consummating their marriage.

Henry reached down to stimulate her but she stopped him again. “I want to make this better for you,” he murmured. “Let me make this better for you.”

She shook her head, eyes frightened and wide.

It's the only way I can help you, he wanted to say. 

He wasn’t going to push her on this, not now. They could work on that next time - or, if she still didn’t want him to touch her then, he could teach her to do it herself. 

He told himself to end it quickly, not to postpone his release. He thrust and thrust and groaned and shuddered and then he went still.

Henry’s muscles seemed to give out with his release so he wasn’t propping himself up on his massive arms anymore. His body was heavy on top of hers, a fine sheen of sweat coating his skin as he struggled to regain his breath.

Her discomfort was back. She tried to wiggle her hips a bit, enough to ease the stinging sensation at her entrance. Henry groaned at the pleasure that little movement gave him and she went still.

He pushed himself up on his forearms and eased out of his wife. He wasn’t inside of her anymore but she wasn't empty. He left his seed behind. Sybil didn't like how it felt dripping out of her. She was still stinging where he’d torn her, too. She clenched her thighs together in a vain attempt to soothe the pain.

Henry turned her head towards him so he could see her face. She looked surprised by what they’d just done. “Are you well?”

She nodded mutely.

“Don’t lie,” he murmured. 

“I’m all right,” she managed. “Just a bit -”

Someone pounded on the door. Sybil gasped and scrambled to cover herself. Henry absently hushed her as he ran his hand down her shoulder. He’d really have to do something about her nerves - maybe more of what he’d just done. Well, hopefully. First he had to see if she’d ever let him near her again. Then, he would have to make her enjoy it . . .

“Henry, the scout just spotted them,” one of the triplets called through the door in Gaelic. “They’ll be at the keep any minute.”

Henry exhaled deeply through his nose. “All right, Will. I’ll be there soon.” He turned back to his wife, who had the blankets pulled over her, the edge all the way up to her eyeballs. “Next time will be better,” he assured her. “We can move slowly. I have a feeling it will take a long time for you to finish the first time.”

She lowered the covers to her chin. “We did just finish.”

Henry smiled broadly and chuckled. Sybil wasn’t sure she’d ever seen that before.

“Was I . . .” she hesitated. “Did I please you?” she asked quietly, eyes focused on his mouth. She looked ready to weep again if he said no. She was desperate for a kind word, any reassurance. She didn’t care about her own experience, it seemed, just his.

“Yes, you pleased me.” It wasn’t entirely true; it was hard to find pleasure knowing he was hurting her. Sybil was only somewhat appeased by his answer.

Henry looked over the plains and contours of her heart-shaped face - straight nose, smooth skin, black brows. “You are so beautiful.” He thought he saw the shadow of a smile on her rosy lips.

It was easy to give a lovely woman compliments and Henry was eager to soothe his wife. Distracting her with information from his past on the night she wept had been a last resort that he had no intention of returning to. He made a note to say something sweet the next time she was upset. It seemed to work better, anyway.

He brushed a lock of dark hair behind her ear; she stilled, wary of the touch.

His expression turned serious. “Next time will be better for you. I promise.” He slipped from the bed and began to dress. When the task was complete, he swiped his wife out of the way to study the bloodstain on the bed linen - proof of their union. 

Instead of stripping the bed, he produced his knife and cut out a large swath of the sheet. He didn’t want to force Sybil from the bed and then make her sleep without a bedsheet. If her expression was any indication, it would be more than she could manage without tears. 

She knew it was expected for them to display the stained sheet in the keep - it was a well-known tradition; even Catherine’s stained bedsheet was hung out for people to see after her wedding night - but the idea made Sybil want to shrivel up into nothing.

She should be relieved there was a stain at all, that her fathers friend had left something behind, proof that she was a virgin. A virgin, she thought, but not untouched…..

Henry pocketed the fabric and pulled the blankets up around her until he assembled a sort of nest for her. She just lay there, looking up at him, still processing what they’d done. 

“I’m sorry to leave you. Try to rest. I’ll be back soon.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead and left without another world.

Sybil started crying again. She was sore and painfully lonely now that Henry was gone. And overwhelmed. So, so overwhelmed.

She thought of her father’s friend, his rough hands and cruel mouth. His fingers in the same place as Henry tried to put his own . . .

This was nothing like that and Henry was nothing like him. Henry was odd but kind and he did his best to make their coupling easy for her.

But she still thought of the other man. She couldn’t help it. It was all too much.

And the act itself – it wasn’t how she used to imagine it, years ago, before everything happened. Lovemaking, people had called it, and she liked to imagine that it was transcendent and beautiful and it wasn’t. It was awkward and strange and she was hyperaware of every detail, but Henry was kind and doting and she supposed that was the best she could ask for.

She was overwhelmed and underwhelmed by what had just happened. And suddenly her tears dried up, as if by acknowledging her conflicting emotions, they canceled each other out.

She lay awake for a long time staring up at the ceiling while the tears dried on her cheeks. She hoped that Henry would come back soon, and she hoped that he wouldn’t come back at all.

A/N: Anyway, yeah, hope you enjoyed. The experience is supposed to be not-so-satisfactory for either of them; it's all part of the greater plan!

#henry cavill #henry cavill rpf #rfp #night hunter #the man from uncle #man of steel #superman #kal el #clark kent #walter marshall #napoleon solo #highland romance #medieval au #medieval romance #the witcher #mission impossible #august walker #the tudors #the cavillry #i capture the castle #the cold light of day #blood creek