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legend-of-dorte · 2 years

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Through Flame and Flood - Chapter 1 (Felix x Reader)

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Felix x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Tags: #Angst and Hurt/Comfort #Blood and Injury #Canonical Character Death #Gender Neutral Reader #Enemies to Friends…Frenemies?

Chapters: 1/?

Words: 3178

Summary: Verdant Wind route, Great Tree Moon. Reader (Gender Neutral) is a member of the Golden Deer House by the start of Edelgard’s campaign. Felix was not recruited and thus follows Dimitri to Gronder to unleash vengeful fury upon Edelgard. Stationed between a hill and a hard place, you are unfortunate enough to get caught in the middle.

Notes: This fic will follow the events of Chapter 17 in the Golden Deer/Verdant Wind route, during the shitstorm of Gronder. Scenes of death and injury will be toned down where possible, but take caution all the same. Enjoy! -sir dorts

also available on ao3!

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You descended the field with practiced footfalls, making nary a sound as you closed in on a patch of trees dead ahead. Taking shelter in the wooded grove, you ducked low as the air above thundered with the wingbeats of wyverns and pegasi overhead - airborne soldiers in tight formation. Kingdom? Imperial? It hardly made a difference if they marked you an enemy.

The Battle of Gronder Field was nigh. The rest of your comrades were assembled north of the Airmid River, ready to march on Claude’s signal. You, however, were tasked with a different assignment.

Reaching for the bow strapped to your back, you recalled your Professor’s instructions.

“This concerns the Blaiddyd standard. I need you to keep eyes on whoever is flying it.”

Easy enough, right? Claude had made his position clear by uniting the Church of Seiros and the Leicester Alliance under a single banner. If Edelgard was determined to stamp out any remnants loyal to the Kingdom, it stood to reason that whoever was marching on behalf of House Blaiddyd would throw in their lot with the coalition.

Except that hasn’t happened. From this mysterious group, there were no overtures of an alliance. Even if Dimitri were somehow alive and leading this retinue, there was no way of knowing what designs he had on Gronder Field.

Your professor may as well have sent you behind enemy lines to chase ghosts. Ridiculous, you thought. And yet there was a knot of dread tightening in the pit of your stomach.

If they wanted to play nice with us and gang up against the Imperial Army, they would have said something by now. Sent a message. A hello, at the very least. All we’ve gotten from them is silence.

Silence that was somehow more ominous than Edelgard’s declaration of war five years ago.

Whoever they are, whatever they are planning, it’s obvious they’re not interested in coordinating.

You picked up the sound of faint explosions from the west, followed by the shouts of Imperial foot soldiers and the thunder of their march.

Shit. They’re ramping up already.

Taking position up behind a tree, you motioned for your companion to hurry up and do the same. Poor Marianne - a bishop’s habit was not constructed for stealthy movement through the overgrown field. You stared at her with equal parts pity and frustration as she hurried to your side.

The idea was hardly yours. It was Claude trying to fill in the gaps in his strategy, insuring you and your comrades against all the unknowns.

“Sorry to spring this on you right before sortie, but I need you and Marianne to hold that position east of the hill. If you remember how we won the Battle of the Eagle and Lion five years ago, then you know the one. I’ll find a way to make us even, I promise.”

No problem, Claude, you thought irritably. But you owe me a week of night patrol duty if I manage to survive this.

Could you even? Aileil had been horrid enough, now here you were stuck between a heavily contested area and an unknown band of soldiers.

Marianne must have sensed your unease, for she wore a look of guilt.

“…My apologies,” she murmured. “If any harm were to befall you, the fault would surely be mine.”

“Nonsense. I wouldn’t trust any other partner for this task,” you chastised her. “Don’t worry about what might or might not go wrong. Let’s try to support our friends and stay alive.”

“Y-Yes, of course. You’re right,” your companion nodded, drawing in a sharp breath to steel her nerves. “I must focus on keeping everyone safe.”

“That’s right. Just like the last time we were here,” you encouraged her. “Remember how you hid in the foliage and healed our wounds from afar while we took the central hill? And the look on Hubert’s face when you cast Silence on him!”

The glorious Battle of the Eagle and Lion. You and the Golden Deer had won the day. No doubt Claude was banking on that same trick from five years ago, except this time you would provide cover fire and prevent any errant forces pinching the main force from the east. Imperial, Kingdom, or otherwise.

She blushed, ducking her head down lower. “Please don’t remind me. I’m not certain if I could pull it off again. And I don’t know how brave I could be if I were to face off against Hubert now.”

“If we’re lucky, you won’t have to,” you told her grimly, tightening the string on your bow. “Just keep your eyes on the hill and use your magicks on anyone coming from that direction. I’ll keep tabs on the east in case that renegade troop decides to show their faces.”

“The ones marching under the Kingdom’s banner…” Marianne bit her lip before daring to ask. “You don’t think it could be…?”

You patted yourself down, counting the throwing knives stored on your person and making sure they were well within reach. “Dimitri? Dedue? The rest of the Blue Lions? They could be dead in a ditch for all we know…”

“I suppose,” Marianne mused, frowning at your cold remark. She flexed her fingers to keep them from trembling. “But…There’s still a chance that some of them managed to flee the Kingdom. Like, for example…”

“…who?”

Where her gaze was usually timid, there was now a strange intensity as her eyes met yours.

“Like Felix.”

In that moment you fell silent, rapt by a sudden flash in your memory. The clash of a wooden blade. The sand of the practice arena flying from beneath your heels. Dark hair, piercing eyes, and a familiar voice taunting insults that you couldn’t remember but still boiled your blood all the same. Blue skies above and your bruised knees beneath you. Your battered pride. An outstretched hand, unexpected, clasping yours and lifting you onto your feet.

There was a sting in your chest that you knew all too well, though dulled over the passing of years. You shook your head to purge your thoughts.

“Felix?” you scoffed. “Why him, of all people?”

“Wasn’t he your friend?”

A friend who was all too happy to let you know how garbage you were at wielding a blade.

“…I sparred with him maybe once or twice,” You mumbled lowly. “We weren’t even in the same House. I wouldn’t exactly call him my friend.”

“A-are you sure?” Marianne asked, eyes wide with confusion. “But the two of you were always… Back then, it always looked as though-” She cut herself off. “Never mind… I probably got the wrong idea…”

The wrong idea? About what?

You wanted to press the subject further, but there was no time to reminisce about carefree days long gone. Not when the very field you stood upon was about to erupt into a battleground.

“It’s fine,” you breathed, feeling your nerves hitch. “It’s gonna be fine, we’ll be fine. Just follow Claude’s playbook. Break the blockade, rush the artillery station, use long-range fire to suppress the Imperials, cover the advance guard…”

Easy both said and done, right? But luck would have it otherwise.

“… Something’s wrong,” Marianne uttered, her stare intense.

You narrowed your gaze towards the east. “What, the Kingdom army? Are they here already? I don’t see anyone approaching…”

Marianne shook her head. “No. The hill. Something’s different. Did they do something to it?”

You glanced over your shoulder, frowning. Sure enough, there was the central hill, with the artillery station mounted at its apex. Someone was seated there, but you were unable to discern their features from this distance.

“They may have done something with the ballista,” you reasoned, shifting your position to get a better look. “I mean, if they anticipate us coming up the hill, it would make sense to occupy it first-”

Something was making the soles of your boots stick to the ground, like you had stepped in glue. Except the smell of it made your nose burn.

“Why is the ground all sticky?” Marianne asked, lifting the hem of her skirts. There was a black stain that wasn’t there before.

Keeping one eye on the turret, you dared a few steps toward the hill. Quick and quiet, in spite of the strange liquid clinging to your soles. Crouching down, you rubbed your gloved fingers against the ground, catching grass and more of that sticky substance. Was the hill… dripping?

Then it clicked. Your nose stung with the scent of something dark and bitter, like tar. A hint of pine, but also something more noxious. In an instant, you recalled the explosive noises further afield. Your eyes lifted towards the hill and widened as you realized in horror the depth of Edelgard’s scheming.

The entire hillside was slick and glistening - with foul, putrid-smelling, volatile pitch.

Horrified, you turned a heel and darted back into the trees where Marianne was waiting fretfully.

“Get back! Away from the hill!” you hissed. “They’re going to burn it! We have to warn the others!”

You grabbed Marianne’s arm, pulling her along with you. Just as you were wondering, frantic, how to communicate Edelgard’s plan to Claude and the Professor, there was a sudden clamor from the treetops above.

A pegasus descended from the skies, landing on its hooves with an impact that made the ground tremble, majestic wings spread in a threatening stance.

As you fumbled for an arrow in your quiver, a lance was brandished in your direction. Adorning it was an elaborate spearhead that glowed like embers, set with a sigil you had seen before.

“In the name of his Highness, make way!” a familiar voice ordered. “Or die where you stand.”

Marianne’s eyes widened in shock, recognizing the rider before you did. “I-Ingrid?”

Flooded with disbelief, you struggled to make sense of the situation. The pegasus reared, threatening to charge. Instinctively, you shoved Marianne out of the way and darted to the side as Ingrid surged past. Nocking an arrow to your bow, you drew the string back, taking careful aim.

“Ingrid, stop! Or I’ll shoot!” You had no desire to open fire on your former schoolmate, but if she forced your hand…

Suddenly, you picked up movement from the corner of your eye, the sound of someone sprinting through the grass, charging in your direction. You whirled around and let the arrow fly towards your new assailant.

Felix uttered a noise of rage and let his blade fall early, cutting the arrow down mid-flight before it could make its mark. The split-second that followed was just enough time for you to dive towards the trees.

“Try that again and I’ll make you pay!” he snarled, angling his blade for another attack. You ducked behind a branch as he lunged. Steel struck wood instead of flesh, sending bits of bark flying.

Glancing over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of his face. Where there was once a cold smugness, there was something different in his eyes. Anger, loathing, and bitter desperation.

You left him to contend with the fallen branch as you darted back the way you came, searching for Marianne. All the while you prayed, just prayed that he would let up-

The singing of metal filled your ears as something caught your shoulder, sinking into flesh and slicing across. Of course he wouldn’t.

Reaching for your belt, you detached a throwing knife and flung it at him. Felix ducked and brought his arm up. A shield flared with crackling energy, deflecting the knife into the grass.

You let out a cry of frustration. That’s so not fair.

As you braced yourself for another strike, the one that could end you, the temperature around you suddenly plunged. Felix must have sensed it too, for he halted in his tracks. His labored breath turned to mist in the icy air.

This time it was his turn to back away as flowers of frost formed at your feet, snapping the grass underfoot. The earth buckled and burst as massive spikes of ice jutted outwards, forming a treacherous barricade before you.

By your side stood Marianne, panting with exertion, outstretched palms awash in a blue glow. Pride surged in your chest. As Felix deliberated whether to risk impaling himself upon the ice or carve another path forward, your ears picked up the shriek of a pegasus descending from somewhere above.

You stepped in front of Marianne and nocked another arrow, this time aiming upwards. This forced Ingrid to veer away sharply instead of diving at you both. Her pegasus jerked violently in mid-air, coming short of crashing into the trees. Excellent. This gave you enough time to think and-

Something burst through the icy barricade, splitting it apart as though it were a gate dashed upon a battering ram. You brought your arm up to shield your eyes from the flying shards of glass. A towering figure forced its way through the ruined barrier, armed with a lance that glowed like Ingrid’s relic, but like none you had ever seen before.

The crest that flared in mid-air before you, however, you recognized as that of Blaiddyd.

It couldn’t be, you thought, eyes wide. He should be dead.

Yet there he was in the flesh, though he reminded you more of a beast than human. Prince Dimitri of the former Kingdom of Faerghus. His massive shadow loomed as he peered down at you coldly with a single eye. The other was concealed behind a black patch.

At his side was Dedue, smashing down the remaining ice with his great-axe to clear a path for his lord. Felix emerged through the opening, as did Ingrid. All four of them moved to surround you both. Their eyes were filled with menace. But why? These were your schoolmates! Though from different classes, all of you had studied together. Trained together. Laughed and argued over meals in the dining hall. Spent the passing seasons together within the same walls. Why did they look upon you now as though you were an enemy? Scarcely a person, more an obstacle to be cut down?

“Run. Find Claude and the professor,” you ordered Marianne, shoving her away behind you before she could protest.

She tried anyway. “But-”

“GO! HURRY!” you snapped with a forcefulness that sent her running towards the Airmid, as fast as she could manage.

You pitted yourself between Marianne and the former Blue Lions, preventing them from giving chase. As they surrounded you with weapons at the ready, you immediately dropped your bow and raised both arms into the air. Your shoulder blade stung from the shallow cut Felix had inflicted earlier.

“Stand down!” you yelled, thinking fast. “We’re not Imperial soldiers! We’re part of the coalition between the Church and the Alliance! There’s no reason for us to fight!”

You felt the press of cold steel against your neck.

“Drop your knives,” Felix warned, adjusting the grip of his sword. “All of them. I won’t say it twice.”

Daintily, you reached down and plucked the knives attached to your belt one-by-one, dropping them into the grass. All the while you shot Felix a look of pure venom. Asshole.

“We’re wasting time,” Dimitri growled, brushing past without deigning to look at you. “Cut this one down and move. We take the hill.”

Your eyes went wide as you suddenly remembered.

“You can’t,” you warned, turning your head towards Dimitri as far as Felix’s blade would allow. “It’s rigged. Edelgard is going to set it on fire. You’ll never make it to the other side.”

Without meeting your eyes, Dimitri swung his lance at you, stopping short of slicing your chest open. “You claim to be no ally of the Empire, yet you are privy to Edelgard’s plans?”

He snarled her name with a baleful hatred that chilled you to the core. “Which is it?! I’ve no patience for lies!”

“I’m not lying!” you insisted, mustering courage as the spearhead pressed into your chest. “The entire hill is covered in pitch! You can check for yourself.”

You noticed Felix suddenly glancing down at his feet, the same way you had when you first discovered the ruse. Dimitri continued to stare dead ahead towards the hill, paying no heed. His lips curled into a sneer.

“It matters not. We’ll cut our way through the flames if we must. No matter how many stand in our path, Alliance or Imperial, we will crush them all the same. Edelgard will pay for her sins.”

His words left you numb with disbelief. This was Dimitri? The earnest and wholesome boy who treated everyone around him with the highest courtesy, never expecting the same in kind? Or was this the boar you heard Felix muttering about once in passing? Only now did you begin to understand what he had meant that day.

“That’s insane. Claude is not your enemy!” you insisted, too caught up in your emotions to realize that the blade against your neck was no longer there. “We should be coordinating our attacks, not fighting each other like this! Stop and think for a second!”

“Enough! You will be silent!” Dimitri roared, rearing back his lance to deliver the killing blow himself. You stared into the eyes of your would-be murderer and saw no humanity, only torment. Eyes filled with bloodthirst. A monster, depraved beyond all redemption, feasting upon pain and terror in the battlefield.

You wondered how in the world this could have happened. What made him into this thing. How could you have met your end at the hands those who could have once been your friends.

As you waited for death, Felix spoke up. “Hold it. I have a better idea.”

He shoved you viciously towards the hill, almost causing you to stumble. “Why don’t you take the lead? Might make a good shield.”

You sneered incredulously, but did not argue. How kind of Felix to convince Dimitri to spare you, only to march you into the flames. Better than instant decapitation, you supposed.

“At least let me grab my bow.”

Dimitri withdrew his lance and whirled, marching off in the western direction. He had ceased to care. Ingrid and Dedue followed obediently, the same deadpan stare in their eyes. Felix remained, his blade hovering inches above your head as you crouched down to retrieve your bow. Half your knives lay scattered upon the ground, but you dared not even look at them for fear of testing the swordsman’s generosity.

Felix spoke in a low voice, unheard by all except you. “If you see a chance, take it and run.”

You said nothing and straightened your back, bow in hand.

His blade pressed into your spine. “Start walking. Move.”

You obeyed, keeping pace with your captors. Felix urged you faster, forcing you to take point and lead the climb up the hill. You tensed, ready to meet death by artillery fire or burning pitch - whichever came first. Yet despite whatever misgivings you felt in the moment, you had the sense that Felix liked these circumstances even less than you did.

#Fe3h #felix x reader #felix hugo fraldarius #blue lions #fire emblem three houses

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

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tapestry 👑 XXVI

Warnings: dark elements, dub/noncon (cummies!)

This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: King Steven had a wandering eye but you never thought it would fall upon you.

This Chapter: The wedding day comes to and end.

Note: Wedding night = wedding cummies. I have nothing else to say.

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply! Love ya!

masterlist

You’d never pondered much on the concept of time. It loomed in your mind as it did any person. Foreboding and inevitable. One day it would pass you by and you would succumb to it as all did. But you’d never thought of it so deeply because it had never come to such a defining and startling stop.

You hung from the precipice as you stood before the tall doors. They were closed but the din of voices came clear through the studded wood. Beside you was the man who had strung up your world so definitely. And as you looked at him you saw the toll of time; the fresh bloom of life, the frightful promise of death, the slow and crippling march of mortality. The crushing hand of fate was his; decorated with gold and gems.

He turned his head and you winced at the movement. You looked to him in turn and he smiled down at you. To any other, it was a kind smile; to you, it was vulgar and knowing. He had so easily disassembled you in the carriage and he could do it again. He would. And he anticipated it gleefully, like a child on Yuletide.

He took your hand and held it in his. His fingertip rubbed the sapphire he’d guilded you with. He looked ahead and inhaled deeply. His chest puffed out as he nodded to the servants on either side of the doors. You stood as straight as you could. You were a queen now, or at least married to the king. Once the coronation was past, the title would be true, but you were as good as.

How did Eleanor ever do it?

The doors opened slowly and the voices within died slowly. Another blast of horns that was becoming all too familiar and distressing. Was this to be your entrance to every occasion? Were you to be met with the eyes of every other person whenever you passed through a doorway?

You didn’t move until you felt him tug you forward. You knew it would be a poor impression to be dragged into your own wedding feast. You let him guide you into the hall as the guests stood at their tables and quieted entirely. They bowed as the king waved to them and squeezed your hand. You mimicked him and did your best to keep your lips curved.

He led you up to the dais above the tables along the front of the hall. Two chairs; one for each of you as you sat above the rest. Your parents, his mother, Lord Barnes, his council and their respective wives, all sat along the nearest tables. Lady Diana and Mabel had returned to their former esteem; tails between their legs as their confessions secured their lives, though they were not without stain. It was a pauper’s court indeed.

Steven made a show of lifting your hand to his lips and kissing it before he turned back to the people. He cleared his throat. “We thank you all for attending our wedding and we do hope that this feast does mark the beginning of an equally fruitful and fulfilling union. We welcome you to share at our table and all that should entail. May you all find your stomachs full and your hearts content when the night is through.”

He raised your hand as he had at the altar before he sat and pulled you down with him. Chairs creaked and scraped as others followed suit and platters were uncovered in unison by servants. His hand lingered on yours as he sat back. His other reached to shift your seat closer as he leaned over your arm.

“Tell me, my queen, how did you enjoy our ride?” He purred. “Hmm?”

You gulped as you looked at him. Your cheeks burned and you blinked. You didn’t know what to say so you parted your lips dumbly.

“It’s alright. You did make your pleasure most clear. Sang it, even, though you’ve never seemed the musical type,” He kept his voice low as the servants filled your cups with wine. He reached to one and offered it to you. “I promise, there is much more to come before we retire this night. More than you could ever know but I shall guide you as you bid me.” You wrapped your fingers around the stem of the cup and he let you take it as his hand brushed yours. “I shall show you what it means to be a wife.”

You nodded and sipped from the wine. He chuckled and grabbed his own.

“It is expected that you may be nervous; afraid, even. But did I give you an cause to be in the carriage? Did you not feel...divine?” He shielded his lips from the room with his cup.

You nodded and drank again. Your hand threatened to shake.

“Say it.” He demanded. “Tell me you liked it.”

“I--I did. I liked it…” You sputtered and set your goblet down before you could drop it. “...very much, my king.”

“I did too.” He hummed. “You tasted marvelous.”

You looked down at your skirts. You imagined them pushed up as they had been in the carriage. His head just below them, your hand in his hair. The way you’d beckoned him to your body. How you had welcomed him. The tingle that returned and called for more. The flames that washed over you though you could not tell if they burned of desire or shame. Did it matter for he would have his way regardless.

👑

The night wore on. You found yourself dancing with the king as clumsily as that first night he’d asked you. Your lack of coordination was the only thing that hadn’t changed. Eleanor was gone and no longer there to surveil you. Rose was married and glowing as she neared her due date, entirely unencumbered by the king. The ladies were yours though you hadn’t any idea how to lead them. You were just as clueless but all else had shifted around you.

You paused from your hideous dancing as you saw your mother approach. The king, your husband, never quite stopped touching you. It was a quickly formed habit and you found it wearing on you as the evening progressed. But more, you found it stoked that same heat as before. Though you told yourself it was natural, and legally consecrated, it still felt so wrong. You had supplanted another, even stolen her life.

“My dear, uh, your highness,” Your mother corrected herself as she neared. “Oh, you do look absolutely wonderful.” She grabbed your father’s arm as he retained his usual grimace. “Husband, isn’t our daughter just stunning?”

“Mmm,” Your father grumbled though his eyes never met yours. “That she is.”

“I couldn’t ask for a more beautiful wife,” Steven affirmed. “Lady Elizabeth, pardon me, Lady Bess, I promise I shall take care of her as she deserves.”

“And my girl deserves the best,” Your mother asserted. “And I shall hold you to such a promise.”

“Yes, yes, she does look a might better than the quiet little bird I first met,” Another voice sounded from behind her mother. “Bess, your daughter is much more comely than I did think. I suppose she should bear some fine heirs.”

“Mother,” Steven greeted and kissed her cheek. “I did think you would retire early, as you usually do.”

“There is much more wine here than even my chambers,” She quipped.

“Thank you,” You piped up. “Your highness, we do appreciate your presence and your efforts in coming to the capital for our wedding.”

Sarah regarded you for a moment before she replied. “Why, Steven, I’d say she learns fast but I daresay it more likely you offer a stark enough contrast that she does seem rather courteous.”

“We are very grateful, mother,” Steve said, though he could not completely hide his irritation. “We always welcome you here.”

“Though I do not always welcome this place,” She remarked. “Or weddings. The first was damned enough for me.”

Steven chuckled and ignored his mother’s complaints. He peered around and waved to another nearby. It took a few sharp gestures before you caught sight of who it was he beckoned to. Lord Barnes appeared among the crowd and nodded to his king and friend. His blue eyes were dull and dilated; as if he too had been imbibing.

“Your highness,” He gave a dramatic bow to the king. “A most splendid occasion. I daresay, hard-fought and long-awaited.”

“I daresay,” The king agreed as he squinted as his friend. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I would never gripe at free wine,” He smiled. His blue eyes caught yours for a moment and he quickly looked back to Steven. “And dancing! Though I do lack a proper partner.”

“You must have your selection, Lord, there are many ladies who no doubt prefer a duke,” The king mused.

“No doubt, though I do not prefer them,” He rolled his eyes. “I shall dance another night. A cup shall see me well enough.”

“Buck, do not be so dour. Perhaps even some water should lighten you up,” Steven remanded. “And if you insist on a partner, I might lend you mine for a tune, though not for long.”

“With her errant feet I should find my toes flattened,” He chided. “You keep your queen to yourself,” He returned. “You make a pretty pair.” He covered his mouth and withheld a hiccup. “A pretty pair…” He righted himself. “Indeed.”

He winked and disappeared back into the crowd. You watched him and wondered at his demeanour. Surely he was drunk but uncannily bitter as well. Steven barely seemed bothered as he pulled you to him once more and excused you from your parents. He drew you onto the floor and clung to your hand as he set back to following the melody of strings and brass.

“The night wears on…” He said as he turned. “But my eagerness does not, my queen.”

👑

When at last the dancing began to wind down and the band tired, the departure of the royal couple was announced. As you neared the doors, the king’s men guided him to the left and your ladies diverted you to the right. As was the rite of any bride and groom, you would be undressed and readied by your retinue for your wedding night.

As you walked along the corridors with Rose at your side and several other women in your stead, your stomach knotted painfully. For now, you would be apart from the king but only for a moment as you were stripped down for your consummation. The last of your former life would be left behind and you would face what was to be.

You were ushered into a small room just along a corridor not far from the king’s. The giggles of the ladies echoed along the walls before they closed you in and set about their task. Rose rubbed her stomach as she watched Beatrice and Marion unlace your bodice and your sleeves were pulled off by Mary. You felt as if a thousand needles pricked at your flesh.

“It’s not so bad, your highness,” Rose offered. “I promise though, it could be worse.” She reached to her back and groaned. “If you are successful, you’ll be much like me in no time.”

You tried to smile but your lips only quivered. You let them remove your gown and stepped out of it as they removed your coronet and veil. They unbound your hair and your slippers were bundled up with your stockings. You stood in nothing but your shift; trembling from more than the cool castle air.

“Rose,” You turned to her. She was the only of the ladies you could ask. “What do I do?”

She considered you and nodded. She smiled kindly and touched your shoulder. “Let him do as he wants. If you at least try, it will not be so bad… it will hurt at first but it gets better.”

You nodded but you felt even more on edge. You anticipated more than pain; worse, humiliation, regret, immorality. It was all so vague in your head that you felt as if you marched to the block.

“You needn’t worry so much,” Rose comforted. “For as long as the king has waited, he cannot be disappointed. Just breathe.”

“Breathe,” You let out a long breath and nodded as you were wrapped up in a robe. “Alright.”

“Come on,” She held out her hand. “We cannot delay any longer. Better to have it done with anyway.”

You took her hand and she led you back into the corridor. She waddled beside you but her step was even. You approached the king’s chambers and the guards greeted you with knowing looks. The opened the doors and Rose squeezed your hand. She turned you to her and untied the belt of your robe. She grabbed the front of it and paused before pushing it down your shoulders.

“He loves you. You might be scared but it will not change his feelings for you. His want. He is a man who gets all he desires and if you give it to him, that will be your security.” She slowly shoved the robe down your arms. “You can be better than Eleanor. Be you. Be kind.”

“Thank you,” You said quietly.

The robe fell away entirely and she swept it up in her arms. She smiled at you. Envy mixed with pity. You thanked her and stepped through the doors and they closed behind you. The bedchamber was open and a subtle glow escaped the arched doorway. Just breathe, you told yourself.

You walked to the door and peeked inside the chamber. Candles were set in sconces along the wall and gave a low light to the room. The large canopied bed cast shadows like wraiths and the tall fireplace gaped like a hungry mouth. You didn’t see the king as you stepped inside. Your heart beat furiously as you turned back and yelped.

Steven appeared from behind the door to frighten you. He scooped you up as you almost stumbled over your own feet and you struggled against him. You hadn’t been expecting such a sudden encounter. You felt his bare chest against your arm as he carried you towards the bed. He dropped you onto the mattress with a chuckle.

“My queen, I did not mean to scare you so, only a little trick, you see?” He wore a pair of undershorts and nothing else. He climbed up on the bed beside you as you sat up.

“I… It was only a surprise, my king,” You assured him. “I was not expecting it.”

“Oh, but I do love to hear you make such noises,” He slid his arm behind you and pulled you close. “I should like to hear it over and over.”

He pushed you down onto your back and pressed his lips to yours. Your hand grasped at his broad chest as he did. You felt the soft hair along his firm muscle. The strength corded beneath his flesh. It assured you of your helpless and added to the pluck within you. You wanted to shove him away and yet wanted to pull him closer too.

His tongue explored your mouth as his fingers pinched and tugged at your shift. He felt your shape beneath, groped you as he hummed into your mouth, rolled his body against yours. He parted from your lips and you gasped, overwhelmed by his hands on you. His warmth surrounded you; suffocated you.

He pulled his arm from beneath you and sat back. His blue eyes sparkled in the candlelight as he traced your collarbone with his fingers. His hand slid down and gripped the neck of your shift. He grabbed the other side and tore it so sharply your body jolted. Your chest was bared to him and your nipples hardened at the cool air.

“Wow,” He let out a small gasp as his hand covered your breast.

He purred hungrily and bent over you as he took your nipple in his mouth. He kept his hand on your chest as his other felt around between you. He pushed your shift up until it was past your knees and slipped beneath it. His fingers crawled along your thighs as you shuddered. You were trapped but the more he touched you, the less it felt like you were.

He ran his fingers along your vee and you slapped your hand against his shoulder in shock. He trailed further and pushed between your legs. With two fingers, he teased your bud and slipped between your folds. He rubbed you until the tickle grew unbearable. Until you felt the wetness gather at his touch and he spread it with his fingers.

He moved his mouth to your other breast as he shifted his body over you. He pushed one knee between your legs and then the other. A steady beat formed in your ears and deafened you. You could barely hear your own breathing as he raised his mouth back to yours. He kissed you sloppily as he cupped your sex in his hand.

He sat back and ripped your shift entirely to its hem. You gasped at your nakedness and his eyes roved over you. He reached to his shorts and shoved them down. He was careful not to catch his member as he uncovered it and your eyes rounded at the sight of it. Your chest rose and fell and his gaze followed it.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows and tried to wriggle backwards away from him. He caught your hips and forced you back down to the mattress, your legs splayed around him. He leaned over you, his hand on your throat, as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“My wife, this is your duty,” He growled. “We must consummate our union this night.” He tightened his grip enough for you to squeak in fear. “Though it is up to you whether your duty should be a task.”

You gulped and nodded. He let go and sat back again. He stood to slip free of his shorts and tossed them away. His thick thighs pushed against yours as he knelt between your legs and his muscles tensed as he looked over you. You covered your chest shyly and closed your eyes.

“Look at me,” He commanded. You shook your head. “I said,” He reached to tweak your nipple and you whimpered. “Look at me.”

You opened your eyes and he grinned. His hand fell to his cock. He glided up and down his length and groaned. He did it again as his other hand dipped between your legs. He felt along your folds as he moved closer until your legs were draped over his thighs. He swirled his fingertip around your clit and you spasmed.

“Now is not the time for modesty,” He rasped. “Your little act is over.”

He guided the tip of his member to your bud and dragged it up and down. You dug your nails into the blankets below you and held your breath as you struggled to keep from closing your eyes. He looked sinister in the shadows as he admired his body over yours.

He slickened himself along your folds. He stretched a hand over your thigh as his head met your entrance and he held himself there. He lifted his head and looked you in the eye, his lips curved. He inhaled as deep as he could and let the air whisk out shakily. He lowered his gaze again and you followed it as you felt him pushing against you.

He entered you slowly. Just the tip as you cried out in surprise and pain. Your legs tensed against his and you tried to sit up to shove him away. He caught your wrists and pushed them back down to the mattress. He held them there as he bent over you and forced himself deeper. You whined through gritted teeth.

“Stop! Stop! It hurts!” You begged. “It hur--”

Your voice caught in your throat as he slammed into you entirely. He pulled back and thrust again and you exclaimed. The tears rose and you shook as he repeated the motion once more. You bent your legs as you braced yourself against the mattress and he rocked in a steady motion.

“Lord, you feel so good,” He growled as he released your wrists.

He framed your face with his hand and kissed you. He didn’t stop as he swallowed your breath and his tongue invaded your mouth. He smothered your whimpers as you shook beneath him.

He planted his elbow beside your head and snaked his hand between your bodies. He reached down and found your bud as he worked in and out of you. He rubbed you as he kept his pace even. The pain intertwined with the peculiar strumming at your core and you brought your hand up to grip his bicep.

You bit your lip as you tried to resist the pleasure as it nipped away at the pain. He sat up and looked to his hand as he circled his thumb around your clit. A wild smoke filled your chest and clouded your head. You writhed and cupped your chest in your hands. He sped up and smiled as he watched you react.

He thrust harder and harder. It still hurt but his hand distracted you and built a different sort of pressure that threatened to burst. Your mewls turned to moans and you panted frantically. You needed the release. You needed that same relief you’d found earlier. The sudden and simple deluge of bliss that would carry you away.

You arched your back as your climax bloomed along your thighs and spine. As it enshrined you and unravelled all at once. As you let forth a carnal cry and clawed at your skin as the sensation overwhelmed you. He didn’t stop, even as your bud grew overwrought and sore. He kept on until you begged.

He smiled but in the dark it was almost a sneer. He stilled his hips but remained inside you as he bent over your body. He shoved his arm beneath you and lifted you with him as he sat back. He hugged you to him as his other hand gripped your hip and he guided you. You began to rock under his guidance, your arms slung over his shoulders.

“No more hiding,” He snarled. “I see it in your eyes.” He jerked himself up sharply as you tilted into him and you flinched. “You don’t want to but you like it, don’t you?” You shook your head and his dug his nails into your hip. “Don’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” You gasped. “I--I--I like it.”

“You like it?” He urged.

“I do, my king,” You hissed.

You felt the rise again as your clit rubbed against his pelvis. He moved you against him faster as he plunged deeper. He brought you down harder and harder as he groaned louder and louder. Your moans streamed forth without restraint and you chased the pique. Again. You wanted it again.

“My queen,” He purred as he thrust into you over and over. The sound of your flesh mixed with your voices in a lurid melody. You were breathless as you came once more. “My...queen…” He dragged his hands up your back and hooked his fingers over your shoulder. He crashed into you over and over. “My…”

His words crumbled and he only grunted as his body spasmed violently against you. He fell forward and crushed you against the mattress. His hips slowed as he hung his head and his shoulders fell. He rested his weight on you as he remained between your legs. You were helpless beneath him; your chest hammered in time with his.

You closed your eyes as the glow faded. As the candlelight dimmed and the night returned. As you laid beneath the spent king on his messed bed, his seed leaking out around his cock. Your heart slowed and you were suddenly very tired. Your walls ached around him and he wiggled his hips as if to taunt you. He lifted his head and looked down at you with triumphant smirk.

“Don’t worry, my queen,” He nuzzled your cheek, “We will not have to wait so long ever again.”

#tapestry #Steve Rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #medieval au #series #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #mcu #marvel #au #captain america #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes

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a-world-in-grey · 4 years

Text

Take My Breath au - Roadtrip (Duscae)

Some bad, some good, some cute - and some of Sola terrifying the shit out of Ravus. @secret-engima because hey, we get to see Ardyn and Sola exchange words!

-Sola has to admit that helping Uncle Cor take out the Norduscaen blockade was cathartic (though the exasperated why me look he gave her after she walked in the front gate with the rest of the Retinue, glaive across her shoulders and she cheerfully announced that being the distraction was fun was completely unnecessary) and she’s in a much better mood as they wander through Duscae looking for more royal tombs.

-They pick up a couple hunts - including a damn behemoth so Prompto can ride Chocobos, but in the face of Prompto’s delighted expression no one can begrudge the blonde - and Sola heals a few people from what looks like poison. Black crawling through their veins that feels like a smothering, choking fog as Sola pulls it into herself. She frowns as her magic fights off the poison, but sluggishly, taking hours, even days where normally she’d be fine in a manner of minutes.

-It’s odd, but her magic beats it off as it does everything else, so Sola simply keeps her gloves on and jacket sleeves down to hide the black creeping up her hands and wrists. The others would only worry, and she’s fine.

-Until she’s not.

-Until the poison in her veins are creeping up her forearms, up her arms, and she’s vomiting up black goo almost every night. Fortunately, she has her own tent - as big as Gladio’s is, there’s no way to cram four people inside when three of them are six feet tall, and Gladio is... Gladio - and a decade of having hanahaki has taught her how to hide the fact that she’s getting sicker every day.

-In Lestallum, Sola crashes hard when they reach the Leville. She sleeps in later than Noctis even, and wakes up after Noctis has left with Iris to tour Lestallum. Ignis returns first, and it turns out that Pelna and Axis are in Lestallum and Sola takes the chance for an update.

-She even waves off the Chocobros when they go to find the next Tomb, instead going out to get takeout and finding a discreet place to have lunch and talk about glaive operations.

-Then lunch gets interrupted by that same silky tone Sola is coming to hate. She’s not the only one to react violently, weapons whirling through the air. Ardyn casually sidesteps them all. His casual remark that Sola’s finally found herself a Shield is met with a snarl from Axis, but Sola waves both Pelna and Axis down. They cannot afford to start a fight here - too many civilians, too many refugees that cannot afford Imperial attention turning to the city - no matter how much Ardyn deserves a knife to the kidney.

-Then Ardyn grabs Sola’s hand, pushing her sleeve up and revealing the black poison stark against pale skin before Sola can wrench her arm away. But Ardyn knows what this is, mentions that it is the Scourge her little brother is fated to defeat, even if at this rate Ardyn doubts Sola will live to see it. Pelna and Axis still dangerously, and Adryn leaves with a vague comment of wondering how Sola will go.

-Sola, Pelna, and Axis return to the Leville, where Sola pulls Jared aside and asks him to look into the Starscourge - and what happens to those who are infected with it. It means revealing her infection to Jared and making the man promise not to tell the others, because Sola can feel it now. She’s dying, and unless they miraculously find a cure, Sola won’t survive.

-Pelna and Axis are not happy. They argue with Sola when Sola refuses to divert Kingsglaive forces to researching the Scourge. She tells them that they don’t know if there is a cure, and it’s more important that they continue to fight the Empire. Pelna is named Second, and if when Sola dies, he will be Chief.

-Unfortunately, Iris overhears enough and bursts into the room to confront Sola about it. Sola sighs and lets Iris look at her arms with trembling fingers. She has Iris promise not to tell the others, because they need to focus on protecting Noctis, not her. Iris nods, and Sola kneels down to wipe away Iris’ tears. Especially because Iris sniffles that she’s going to leave her Shield all alone. The glaives blink down at Iris, and Iris sniffs again, this time in part offense and says that she’s not blind. Axis is Sola’s Shield, and... Iris hesitates before she quietly adds that he’s family too, isn’t he?

-Axis is still as a statue, and Iris babbles that he looks a bit like her grandmother, and he acts a lot like Gladdy and her father around Noctis and the king. Iris shuffles when Axis still doesn’t react, and she asks why he never said anything. Axis, faced with a crying kid, immediately switches over into dad mode, and he gently tells Iris that he’s a bastard. It would’ve brought too much scandal for both Lord Amicitia and Axis’ family if Axis came forward. Iris pouts, but she grew up in Insomnia and while she wasn’t involved in court, she was still trained, and so she doesn’t try to argue against what she knows is true.

-But Iris is also whip smart for being only 15, and Iris asks if they were worried about the Council forcing Axis to be Sola’s Shield. Axis blinks, but Sola smiles at Iris and confirms it. It’s why Sola helps Axis hide his ties to the Amicitia, because both Axis and Sola wanted it to be their choice. Iris nods, hugs Axis tight, before scampering off to help Jared and Talcott with their new research project. Because she doesn’t want either of her older brothers to lose their King/Queen.

-Sola is out with Pelna and Axis, finishing up reports and orders and plans (and telling them to send some of the Ornata over to Galdin Quay to find one Dino Ghiranze) when she gets a text from Ignis that they’ve returned from the tomb and are going to check out the Disk of Cauthess. Sola texts back and tells them to be careful of the Imperial presence in the area. Sola doesn’t worry when they aren’t back by nightfall - Ignis texted her to tell her that they’d rented a caravan for the night.

-Axis and Pelna, being absolute shits, stick Talcott on Sola babysitting duty before they leave. A duty little Talcott takes to with enthusiasm. Sola sighs, flips her two glaives the middle finger where Talcott can’t see, and proceeds to bow to Talcott’s every whim. Because she’s always been a sucker for kids. (Iris, the traitor, hides giggles behind her hands and cheerfully waves as Talcott drags Sola to wander around Lestallum. Sola won’t admit it, but the sunshine hurts on her skin, hurts her eyes and she makes sure to buy sunglasses. Sola refuses to give up sunlight, even if it hurts.)

-Sola abruptly worries a lot more about her little brother when Titan wakes up and throws a fit. Lestallum isn’t too damaged in the resulting earthquake, but the sight of the giant Astral is... an eye catching sight to be sure.

-Then the Chocobros return to Lestallum by Imperial airship, and Sola learns that they’ve been interacting with Ardyn. Sola snarls, because herself is one thing, but he is not allowed to meddle with her little brother!

-Without the Regalia, the group is forced to rent Chocobos to get around. Fortunately, the birds can cover more terrain than the car, and it allows them to avoid the sudden Imperial blockades that have cropped up. Sola splits off from the group in order to organize and lead glaive operations in blowing up the blockades and bases.

-And, well, Sola’s seen the way Ignis keeps glancing at her, and she’s worried that he’s starting to suspect that she isn’t as well as she pretends.

-Sola gets a call from Cindy pointing her towards Archeole base, where the Regalia has been impounded and waiting for shipment to Niflheim. Sola leaves Pelna in charge of wider operations, and takes Axis and two other glaives with her to meet up with the Chocobros just outside the base.

-Sola does not step into the Haven. She tried that a couple days back and it was not fun, Sola does not recommend. It means she’s now running mostly night shifts so she can sleep during the day, but she’s managing.

-Instead, Sola leaves the two glaives to coordinate with Ignis and the others while she and Axis sneak around to scout out the base.

-Night falls, and Sola and Noctis’ group infiltrate at separate points. They proceed to sneak around and murder their way through the base. Sola’s group focuses on taking out as many MTs and imperial forces as possible, while Noctis’ group heads for the main generator and the Regalia.

-At several points, Sola calls forth bursts of sunlight to disorient the mech sensors. It sears through her veins like nothing has before, but it’s the best option she has so Sola forces herself to continue through the pain.

-Frankly, Sola thinks Noctis calling down Ramuh to smite the generator is overkill, but the glaives are an Awe.

-Ravus has just pushed Gladio back against the Regalia when about two dozen weapons materialize around him. And Sola slinks out of the shadows, all predatory grace and lethal smile. “Hello, darling.”

-Ravus doesn’t dare move. Not with the blades pressed against his throat, against eight different spots that will kill him instantly if Sola wills it. With the two blades pointed at his eyes and the gun against the back of his head.

-He’s seen the power of a Lucis Caelum armiger. It’s not something he ever anticipated being on the other end of it.

-Sola’s almost a foot shorter than him. That doesn’t stop her from using the tip of her wickedly sharp blade to lift his chin. “Tell me, darling,” And Ravus has never heard an endearment sound so threatening, “why I shouldn’t cut you down where you stand?”

-He says nothing. There is nothing to say, no convincing reason he can give for Sola to spare his life. And Sola knows it. Her smile widens until it’s less a smile and more a snarl of bared teeth.

-“I’m afraid I will have to protest, dear Princess.” Sola twitches as Ardyn materializes behind them, but her glaive doesn’t move as she turns to glare at the High Chancellor. Thank the Six, that blade is uncomfortably close to his throat. “Lady Lunafreya will be most put out if her brother dies.”

-Out of the corner of his eye, Ravus sees Noctis wince. Sola however, is unmoved. “This is war.” Sola drawls, “Lady Lunafreya will understand.”

-“Let him go, and all of you will be allowed to walk free with your Regalia.” Ardyn promises.

-“Please, I’m not that stupid.” Sola scoffs. “I let him go, you’ll kill all of us.”

-“You have my word, you will not be harmed.” The Lucians give Ardyn dubious looks, and Ravus honestly agrees with them. After Insomnia, what Lucian would trust anyone from the Empire?

-“Your word means nothing.” Sola counters with a vicious smile, “Try again.”

-Ardyn tilts his head thoughtfully. “Oh? It almost seems like you want a reason to spare him, dear Princess.”

-Sola laughs. It’s the most chilling thing Ravus has ever heard.

-“Hardly.” Sola says. “But your attempts amuse me.”

-“Sola,” Noctis intervenes, voice quiet but firm. “Withdraw. We’re leaving.”

-A breathless moment where Sola is utterly still, before her weapons shatter into shards of golden magic. Her hand forms a shape, and Ravus suddenly spots the three figures waiting in the shadows when they move, forming a formation and waiting for Sola to join them.

-“As my king commands.” Sola intones. She fades back into the shadows with inhuman ease, sparing a moment to send Ravus a smile that sends shivers down his spine. “Until next time, darling.”

-Those words are going to haunt his nightmares. And Ravus prays to the Six that there won’t be a next time. He’s not certain he’ll survive it.

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wrathofthewind · 3 years

Text

xi. Fire

What greets him is the sight of a thousand suns, fire bursting from the walls, the curtains, the furniture. In front, the outline of that paper woman holding her head, but her body is now somehow larger, deformed, folded unto itself in parts like a gruesome origami. She is completely engulfed in the flames and suddenly two slits on her face open wide, pitch-black. Those darkened eyes stare at Arnalt as a blood-curling scream springs from her throat. Her entire being is a fountain of fire, the paper-like skin burning while her flesh seems to boil and curl. It’s a dark inky substance, not muscle, not bone, not even blood… just, a bubbling darkness like melting charcoil starts pouring out of her eyes and ears and mouth as that scream morphs into a wail-like screech.

He’s seen this substance before, oozing from wood and dripping down on unsuspecting faces, melting them off--in the Jungles of Tahr.

Arnalt is frozen on the spot for a few seconds, his own skin feeling the singe of the fire, his hand twitching, knowing there is no Aerial ring on his finger, knowing that even if he had one he can’t do anything inside a mirage. This was supposed to be a dream-world, the pain was only registering in his mind… but the mind was a powerful thing and some wounds from the mirage often manifested in a body. But Arnalt was adept at these illusions, they never actually affected him. He knew that as long as his mind was firmly planted and conscious of this being a dream, he could will the pain away and go back to normal. But this was, so violent and so sudden… it fucking hurt him. Too late he realized he’d fallen into the trap.

He felt the flames lick at him before a scream was simultaneously ripped from his throat, and his skin glowed red and even his eyes felt like they would melt any second. It only took the space of a single scream morphing into that gut-wrenching screech for him to catch fire. He panicked. Other wounds could potentially heal, but if this manifested in his real body, he was… he was… he was going to die!

But just as quickly, just as dizzyingly, he felt a strong yank in his chest and a splitting headache like his soul was being ripped apart. The pain inside was worse than the pain his skin suffered. The flames didn’t even matter, their impact receded, and a crackling electrical aura surrounded him, but the pain persisted.

The creature lunged towards him, its fragmented figure scattering in bits and pieces as it condensed that strange inky substance into sharp claws and… and what? Was this thing going to also rip him apart? Was it going to bring Arnalt down with it in this fiery inferno? He had no time to think!

Arnalt felt that pull again, like a black hole opening inside his skull, and a blue-golden light engulfed him, thunder crackling and blasting forth, disintegrating the illusion of a fiery room and flinging him into the dark seas of unconsciousness. The sound of that woman… that figure… screaming, still ringing in his ears as he blacked out and felt himself rolling as if caught by a tidal wave.

He woke up, eyes blank for a minute before the shape of a medical room began to materialize. He was still dizzy and felt an unbearable nausea, immediately throwing his body to the side to retch.

Cough. Cough. Cough.

He groaned. His eyes were wet with unshed tears. He held his stomach and the only thing anchoring him slightly was the sensation of an iron-firm grip on his healthy upper arm. His bad shoulder throbbed as he’d inadvertently leaned his weight over it, but he couldn’t stop the bile. Someone passed him a warm towel and then, realizing he couldn’t just hold it, that towel came up to gently wipe his mouth and chin.

He was gasping for breath, the pounding headache barely residing. Later he recognized that the sound coming out of his mouth was much like sobbing. He quickly bit his lips and tried to regain himself.

When he first entered the dream, he’d been standing, and now, he’d somehow woken up on the bed of the medical room, his legs as stiff as lead. He gave a cursory glance to the side and saw the shapes of Pallax and Tyssen still sprawled on the floor, and once his senses gradually returned, he sniffed a smoky, inky and slightly bloody scent permeating the room. His eyes began to focus, he swallowed his panicked breaths and looked at the towel, then followed that towel up a well-toned arm and into a pair of serene amber pools resting on an extremely handsome face.

“M-Marius?” He choked.

His first instinct was an instant relief and almost a quiet inner sob. He’d never been scared out of his wits so quickly like that. Every other mirage had been weaved by Gala, someone that, while unnecessarily cruel at times, would still never genuinely hurt him. His missions were all carefully planned, with a retinue of soldiers, and always his guardians by his side… the battles at the arena were practiced duels, coordinated, calculated in pros and cons. Pain was expected. But this was the first time he’d genuinely thought, even if for half a second, that he was about to just die.

A warm palm came to rest by his cheek, and the slight tremor in his body calmed down. The lids on those calm amber pools softly came down with concern. “Were you scared?”

He wanted to scream.

Yes! I was fucking terrified! And I’ve been worried about you! I hate this! What’s happening! Why does it smell like smoke! What’s going on? Where were you!

He didn’t even know why the torrential accusations came this way… Marius was younger than him, Marius was the one in danger and all this time he’d been making moves to prevent him from being sent off to the Winterlands. Yet a voice that he barely recognized as himself, that was uncontrollable and hidden inside, scratching at his veins, was shouting through the mire of his feelings as if through the bars in a cell. A pale hand was reaching frantically towards the golden presence on the other side, begging to be spared, begging to be saved, begging to not be forgotten… Why am I here! Why is this happening to me! I needed you! Get me out of here! Marius!

It was so ...uncharacteristic. It shocked him.

But he felt the waves of that voice in his very bones, ripples and shadows of himself, something shameful he had to kept locked. He felt those waves rise up his face, wet the edges of his eyes. He fiercely blinked it away.

The hand that was gripping his healthy arm, the one that kept him steady as he felt sick, once again brought a towel to his face and gently pressed, the soft cloth cocooning his violent agitation.

But Arnalt said nothing, freezing instead. This was Marius standing in front of him. Marius and the echo of his conversation with precisely that paper woman, that… person, that burning thing called Iris that until now he’d been regarding with some fondness… and then that figure full of rancor in Marius’s room, and those declarations… and that burning beast with claws reaching out to maim him.

He stared at Marius like a block of unmovable ice. His lips slightly parted, his brows impassive. He closed his mouth, gulping softly.

“How?”, was the only word Arnalt could muster, his voice monotonous.

Dread crawled up his spine and slowly ate the bubbles of relief that first clung to his bones when his eyes landed on this figure. Arnalt was very practiced at schooling his face, so he summoned his best skills to look only slightly surprised and even mildly irritated, but inside, a very different kind of panic was settling in.

He was indeed in the medical office. He had woken up safe, except for the fright, not a sign of a single injury on his flesh. Tyssen and Pallax were unconscious, which was typical in this kind of spell, it would take a bit of time for their souls to rouse. Illusion spells weren’t like the average nap after all. This was not another layer of the dream because ever detail inside the room was stark and detailed, harsh and obvious. No fog. No veil. He was indeed awake, safe and sound.

The woman was gone. The scent of burning was strong. But the door was still closed, still locked. Nothing had actually changed or been shifted except that now, in front of him, a young man who was supposed to already be chained and locked inside a carriage on his way to certain death, was calmly standing by his side and in the same room.

Arnalt glanced at the door, then back at Marius. He glanced at the door again.

“Arna—-My Lord…” the phrase was slightly sheepish.

Arnalt instinctively drew back from him and stared.

Marius was looking at the floor for a good while before his eyes looked up with an unreadable yet burning expression. He sighed, shoulders sagging momentarily, then straightened his posture so that he no longer seemed like a quietly concerned and helpful youth, betraying a firmness of temper, even a slight arrogance.

His voice came out again, but the shyness was gone, instead a low timbre pressed like velvet against Arnalt’s ears and every hair in his body stood on end.

And it wasn’t a request, nor was it a question.

“Arnalt, you’re coming with me.”

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smallblueandloud · 4 years

Text

thoughts on episode i

subtitled how to fix the phantom menace by essbie (seriously disney i would take money for this. like. minimal money. hire me, i swear i can be more creative than anyone you’ve got working on the movies at the moment)

ahem. anyways.

good ol’ george lucas really looked at the trade federation and was like, “i can make a bad chinese stereotype out of that”. i don’t like it. i also don’t like the implications of jar-jar being an idiot with that accent and just like... no. stop. if you’re not gonna get into social allegory, don’t be racist.

(actually just don’t be racist. that’s not star wars related, it’s just general life advice)

i know people complain about the politics, but the politics was great!! it was really clear to me how palpatine is angling himself into becoming emperor FROM the GET-GO and like. good for him.

the issue, i think, is that it’s not what people were expecting. it’s never what people expect out of star wars. they want space battles and lightsaber fights, and i get it, i really do. but the concept of the prequels, and how they’re supposed to chart the meteoric fall of the golden days, is such a good concept. it’s just that it requires politics, because that’s how he did it, and that’s how no one saw it coming. ah well.

ANYWAYS.

how to fix the phantom menace, as promised:

get rid of jar-jar. i know this is obvious, but do it. padme’s day-saving plan came from jar-jar’s mention of the gungan army, and i’m not sure how to fix that, but first get rid of jar-jar.

the issue with getting the information on the army is that you don’t want to imply that padme’s spying on the gungans, because, again, george lucas doesn’t want to go in to social allegory (even though the gungans would be an EXCELLENT opportunity to talk about colonialism. i’m a star trek nerd at heart, what can i say)

AND the fact that she gets the information from jar-jar, someone who everyone already hates, shows how she’s a good listener and that makes her a good queen. i’m a padme stan at heart, so i can’t fault her for that.

so, i guess what i would do is have the information come from the gungan ambassador, who padme keeps close because she values naboo’s friendship with the gungans.

when she flees naboo, she takes the ambassador with her retinue, and they hide out on the ship with amidala’d!sabe.

then, at some point when she’s frustrated with the senate on coruscant, she’s talking to the ambassador and she says something about how they were “foolish and complacent to not build an army before now.” the ambassador says, offhandedly, “the gungans have always had an army. we have always been ready for war with the naboo. but it is honorable of you to be so dedicated to peace and diplomacy and democracy that you only have a small volunteer corps.”

later, she connects this to their problem and flies them back to naboo. this also means that her petition comes from an actual government advisor, and makes the boss at least a LITTLE more intelligent and less ego-driven.

there is no godly reason for anakin to be so young. make him fourteen, just like padme. this is good for several reasons:

DEAR GOD THIS KID IS SO OVERPOWERED. he’s downright obnoxious. it’s like wesley crusher (tiny science genius), except he also has magic powers and is prophesied by the space wizards that he will save the universe. i hate it.

a nine year old is too young to be doing these things. he’s too young for pod racing, he’s too young for flying, he’s too young to be building. but a teenager is just old enough to be allowed to practice the hobbies he’s been interested in for life. he’d also have?? manual dexterity?? hand-eye coordination?? actual patience?? rare qualities, i know.

a fourteen year old is just old enough to start developing his own personality and opinions. he’s gonna be able to leave the house, and he’s gonna want to - even though he’s too young for it. anakin skywalker is, at heart, a child who doesn’t have the emotional capacity for all of the problems that life deals him. it’s why he’s drawn in by palpatine, who offers comfort and reassurance in his time of need. a fourteen year old will think he’s mature and ready to be on his own, but he’s not. the jedi philosophy doesn’t help with that issue - he’s used to emotional support, and he’s suddenly not receiving it.

fundamentally, anakin is isolated. i don’t know if y’all have been around young teenaged boys, but their whole thing is emotional isolation. it’s very frustrating to watch and be around if you’re not one of the young teenaged boys (hey! just like anakin is!), but it’s there.

a fourteen year old boy is MOODY and CRANKY and ANGRY. let’s not have yoda being “irrational” and telling us that this absolute sunbeam of a kid who’s scared and missing his mother is going to turn that fear into anger! let’s see it! young teenaged anakin is going to have moments of rebellion - he’s going to purposefully go into the fight, rather than it being an accident, for example, or purposefully blow up the ships in the pod race - and we’re going to see them. it’s going to be scary to us because we know what’s coming, just like yoda does!

also, he’d be old enough to see the injustices of slavery, and to never really forget them. i think movie!anakin hasn’t really realized how terrible slavery is, yet, and that just might be because he doesn’t know that others don’t have that life. older!anakin would KNOW and it would KILL him to leave his mother behind. let’s have a compelling narrative about slavery, instead of using it as a plot device to prop up shmi, who is a plot device used to make anakin angry! i’m tired of it!

anakin and padme would be the same age, and very very different people in very different situations. look, if we’re gonna make this a myth, let’s make this a myth. water and fire, opposites coming together and destroying each other. i stand by my opinion that anakin/padme is a fundamentally doomed relationship and narrative contrast/parallels would only HELP MY CASE. c’mon, georgie boy, if you’re gonna make a myth DO IT PROPERLY.

lessen the age gap between anakin and obi-wan. neither of them know what they’re doing, no one in the jedi order really respects these two kids who are simultaneously too young and too old, etc. brothers! let’s do this!

WHAT KIND OF PERSON THREATENS TO KILL A NINE YEAR OLD?? on the other hand, a fourteen year old, yes, i can see that happening.

i stand by my opinion that sabe should’ve been expanded upon. she and padme are two halves of one person, let’s see that in action! at least let sabe have a conversation with anakin that’s startling in its similarity to one with padme. again: if this is a myth, give it mythical elements, like two people who are the same person, both thinking and saying the same thing, but separate.

all the time from every scene that used to have jar-jar as the “”comic”” “”””””relief””””””” should be used to expand on maul. give him backstory! give him an arc! give him a driving motivation! you know what would be cool? more between him and qui-gon. they were made to destroy each other, maybe?

I LOVE QUI-GON JINN. that isn’t a correction, i just wanted to say it.

okay, i know i said we weren’t doing social allegory, but let’s talk about the slaves. you want to talk about freeing the slaves, fucking COMMIT, georgie! take notes from @fialleril‘s tatooine slave culture and TALK ABOUT WORLDBUILDING.

(sidenote if y’all have not read fialleril’s tatooine slave culture fics/meta, y’all have not LIVED. go and read it, immediately!!)

take out the ten minute podrace sequence. that’s just gratuitous.

oh, and one last thing! i see what they were trying to do with the midichlorians, and i appreciate it, but could they not. like. i like science as much as the next math nerd, but don’t try to retcon stuff into making sense. this is STAR WARS. things aren’t supposed to make sense! they’re supposed to LOOK COOL. psh, can’t believe i have to tell this to george lucas himself.

anyways, there’s a (much shorter) list of things i WOULDN’T change, and it is:

duel of the fates

the politics

padme amidala

qui-gon jinn, and his death (even though i’m SAD about it), and his funeral

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#meta #star wars #episode i #the phantom menace #anakin skywalker #sb and l rambles #sb and l watches sw #long post #idiot goth boy anakin skywalker #this is a full one thousand and four hundred words #apparently i had?? thoughts??#seriously i feel SO STRONGLY about the aged up anakin thing #his being nine makes NO SENSE TO ME #if he's gonna be too old LET HIM BE TOO OLD ALREADY

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libraryscarf · 4 years

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i was thrilled to write something for @fast-moon for the @noragamisecretsanta2019. i hope you like this silly little slice-of-life, and consider it a sincere ‘thank you’ for all you do for the fandom. <3

we fish you a merry christmas

“That kid doesn’t get out enough,” Daikoku mutters, glancing into the loft where two figures sit eyebrow-deep in a pile of textbooks. Hiyori’s been putting Yukine through his paces as the final year of high school bears down on her, and it wouldn’t surprise Daikoku if she were on the verge of springing a practice test or two on her captive student.

“Whatcha doin’, peeping Tom?”

The voice at his elbow makes Daikoku jump. The goblinish smirk on Yato’s face somehow makes it exponentially more punchable.

“You’re one to talk,” Daikoku snarls. “Has Hiyori forgiven you for your little photo collection yet?”

Yato blanches. “That’s—that’s water under the bridge.”

“Should I remind her of when her sleeping face was your lock screen?”

“Waitwaitwait, I’m sorry, please don’t, Daikoku, I’ll do anything--”

Daikoku grins. That’s more like it.

“Don’t you think he’s lookin’ a little anemic?” he asks, motioning with his head at Yukine, who remains miraculously engrossed in studying despite the disruption right outside the door.

“Anemic?” Yato repeats stupidly.

Daikoku’s eyebrows pull together. “Peaky,” he clarifies. “Pale. Wan. Feeble. Insipid.”

Yato bristles. “You calling my boy feeble?”

“He needs some fresh air! All kids do!”

“He gets plenty of that when we’re on jobs,” Yato says in a dismissive tone, before withering like a sunflower under Daikoku’s freezing glare.

“You call scrubbing strangers’ toilets and picking up after your littering ass, ‘getting fresh air?’” he rumbles menacingly.

“What are we saying about your littering ass?” Yukine asks, his head popping into sudden view around the door.

“Respect your elders!” Yato and Daikoku thunder in unison.

: : :

“So where are we going?”

“Somewhere.”

Yukine grimaces.

“You know, Daikoku, it’s not that I don’t totally trust your intentions and all, but sneaking me out of the house, away from both Yato and Kofuku is…well…”

Daikoku grinds his teeth so hard his jaw cracks like a gunshot.

“Kid, for the last goddamn time, I am not a—”

“There you are!” Hiyori trots toward them, a backpack slung over her shoulder and a big, floppy sunhat bouncing with every step. Her arms are bare and freckled, like she’s been spending quite a bit of time outdoors.

“I thought I heard someone yelling,” she says brightly.

“I wasn’t yelling,” Daikoku grumbles.

“You were kind of yelling,” says Nora, silently manifesting right behind Yukine, who curses with such vigor that Daikoku and Hiyori both “shush” him.

“Please don’t do that again,” Yukine gasps, clutching his chest. Nora pats his shoulder in apology.

The four of them continue along the same path for about half an hour, until quite suddenly an arresting view opens up in front of them. It’s a small, sparkling lake, the surface of it as flat and peaceful as a mirror. Rocks, slick with algae, line the shores. Except for the monotone rill of summer insects, it is absolutely silent. To Daikoku, the existence of this place feels like a great miracle.

“Wow,” says Yukine, appropriately awestruck. Hiyori’s eyes are round. “This is so pretty!” she exclaims.

“Lots of fish live here too,” utters a small voice to their left. The three of them turn to see Ebisu, balancing precariously on one of the slippery rocks nearby, a hand shading his eyes as he gazes pensively across the lake.

“I protect this place,” he states almost casually, his eyes fixed somewhere distant across the bright water. “That’s why it can still be so quiet like this, even in the middle of such a big city.”

Hiyori, Yukine, and Nora look to Daikoku, as though expecting him to tell them he’d known this all along. He hadn’t.

Then Ebisu slips.

“Oh!” he cries, as his legs shoot out from under his tiny body. But before he hits either the rock or the slimy surface of the algae, Daikoku springs into action. Plunging shin-deep into the water, he snatches Ebisu from the jaws of what would almost certainly be a nasty concussion.

“Young master!?” Kunimi explodes from the edge of the trees, his face the color of a ripe plum and his suit a wrinkled, muddy disaster. “How did you get so far ahead of me?”

“Your guidepost is shirkin’ his duties,” Daikoku mutters.

“He is still fairly new to his job,” Ebisu says, seeming absolutely unbothered by his own close call with disaster. “He needs a few centuries to get to Iwami’s level.”

Kunimi reaches the edge of the lake and doubles over, heaving with exertion. After he regains his wind, Daikoku strides back to shore and hands Ebisu off to his disheveled guidepost.

“You’ll be joinin’ us then?” Daikoku jerks his head back toward Hiyori, Yukine, and Nora. Hiyori, having seen Ebisu safely back to shore, kneels and begins unpacking her backpack. Yukine and Nora watch as she removes a canister of bait and unfolds a long fishing pole.

“Fishing?” Yukine says incredulously.

“Yeah,” Daikoku says, walking over and taking the rod Hiyori holds out to him. “You three really need some off-time. This is one of the best ways to blow off steam.”

Yukine, looking a touch green, eyes the squirming bait in the canister Hiyori has just uncapped. “Couldn’t we have just played ‘catch’ or something?” he says mournfully.

Daikoku glances at him from the corner of his eye. “You wanna play catch?”

Yukine turns pink. “No! Absolutely not! It was an example! A what-if situation!”

A grin tugs at the corner of Daikoku’s mouth. “Got it, kid.”

After he hands out the fishing rods, it grows quickly apparent to Daikoku that he has severely overestimated the hand-eye coordination, as well as the capacity for silent waiting, of two of his three charges. Hiyori does quite well, having accompanied several summer fishing trips with her father, but not so well that she manages to actually hook anything at the end of her line. Yukine makes miserable noises as he applies the bait to his tackle, then becomes ensnared with his own fishing line and must be untangled by Kunimi. Nora refuses the fishing rod outright, preferring to wade waist-deep into the water, vanish beneath the surface, and reappear seconds later holding a live, struggling fish in each fist.

“Do I win?” she asks calmly.

“This isn’t a—” competition, Daikoku is about to say, but before he can finish, something streaks past him and plummets into the water, churning up waves like a school of piranha.

“If I am to win, I must know the method and the stakes,” comes a voice from the edge of the trees, and Bishamon appears with a small retinue of her shinki.

“Why are they here?” Yukine whispers out of the corner of his mouth to Nora, who is attempting to stack her growing pile of squirming captives against an errant boulder, but mostly succeeding in creating a sort of fish Slip’N’Slide down into the algae.

Nana’s messy head surfaces from the middle of the lake with a splash, and its owner gives a muffled whoop. “Hugh guht wuh!” she crows, teeth clamped around a struggling trout.

Daikoku hauls Nora back from her sixth journey into the lake to capture more innocent fish and plants her firmly next to Yukine with a fishing rod in her hand. “We’re learning with these,” he says emphatically, then begins to shovel her hard-won pile of scaly trophies back into the lake, where they thrash away from the shore as fast as possible, shimmering like little bolts of lightning beneath the water.

“Well then that’s just cheating,” Nora says, pointing at where Ebisu stands at the very edge of the shore, hand held safely in Kunimi’s. The water right in front of him is boiling with eager fish that are nearly throwing themselves onto the rocks at his feet. He leans down, reaches into the foaming mass, and effortlessly pulls out a fish.

“Seriously,” Daikoku says in despair, “Why is everyone here?”

A pink head pops out from behind Bishamon.

“I told them!” Kofuku says gleefully, then launches herself at Daikoku, tackling both of them into the water.

: : :

“So when you heard me say, ‘I’m taking Hiyori, Yukine, and Nora on a quiet fishing trip to the lake,’ what you actually heard was ‘Tell everyone in our circle of acquaintance there’s a big competition at the lake; be there or face eternal dishonor’?”

Kofuku’s wet hair smacks into her face as she nods at Daikoku. “Yep! Pretty much!”

Yukine glares at her, utterly betrayed. “You said you could keep Yato off my case for one day.”

“And I did!” she chirps. Yukine looks pointedly at Yato, who, once he saw Hiyori was trying to fish, could not be persuaded away from joining her. So far all he’s managed is to lose his bait, break a pole, and frighten away every single fish investigating Hiyori’s line.

“Okay,” Kofuku corrects. “But I tried. You didn’t give me enough Umaibō!”

“I gave you fourteen.”

Kofuku shrugs. “He’s insatiable.”

Yukine gazes forlornly down at his fishing pole. “Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter. I’m not gonna be able to catch anything.”

Daikoku grunts. Then he snatches a piece of bait from the canister, stuffs it in his pocket, and steers Yukine away from the crowd of people at the shore. Yato and Hiyori glance up at them as they walk off, and for a moment it looks like Yato wants to follow, but Kofuku (occasionally, if not entirely reliable), throws her arms around his neck and knocks him straight into the water.

“Try here,” Daikoku says, once they’ve reached a quiet stretch of shore on the opposite side of the little lake.

Yukine still looks skeptical. To give him a little nudge in the right direction, Daikoku pulls the bait out of his pocket, picks off the lint, and affixes it to the end of the fishing line.

“Trust me, kid.”

After a few failed casts, Yukine manages to send his line out far enough for any questing fish to bite. He settles down on the rock, and Daikoku crouches next to him, both their eyes searching the ripples.

Several minutes go by. Daikoku clears his throat.

“So…how’s school?”

Yukine’s mouth twitches.

“It’s good. Hiyori’s kinda strict, but she’s really smart and knows how to explain stuff.”

Daikoku rubs his chin. “Great,” he mutters. “That’s great.”

Yukine snorts quietly. “You know, it’s okay with me if we just sit here and fish in silence.”

Daikoku deflates in relief. “Thank god.”

After a few more minutes of wordless waiting, Yukine’s shoulders seem to loosen.

“I think you were right about blowing off steam,” he admits. “This is…nice. Even if I don’t catch anything.”

The edges of Daikoku’s mouth soften. “It ain’t so much about the catching,” he says. “It’s more about the sitting.”

Not particularly profound advice, but Yukine nods solemnly, like it’s the truest wisdom he’s ever heard.

Then, a tug comes at the end of the line.

#scarfwrites #noragamisecretsanta2019 #fast-moon #noragami #noragami fanfiction #i've never gone fishing.#my only experience comes from stardew valley and i'm pretty sure that's Exactly how it works irl

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angelqueen04 · 6 years

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Made-up fic title meme - "Lost for Never", please?

For this ask game.

When the Council gets the bright idea of having Anakin spy on Palpatine, Obi-Wan fights the idea, pointing out that Anakin is not an ideal infiltrator, being someone who wears his heart on his sleeve and believes in people, not abstract ideals. He talks them down, and suggests they look for an alternative informant, and asks for a little time to find one.

This leads Obi-Wan to Padmé. Citing her relationship with Palpatine - former queen, holding his former position, etc. - he explains the situation to her, that the Jedi have traced the Sith Lord behind the war to somewhere within Palpatine’s immediate circle. Obi-Wan coming to her with this information leads Padmé to confer with the other Delegation of 2000 senators, who upon seeing that the Jedi are not following blindly in Palpatine’s wake, are more open to an attempt to coordinate with the Jedi in their attempts to restore democracy. They start pooling their own resources, looking into the people surrounding Palpatine, and even into Palpatine himself.

Meanwhile, Anakin’s dreams of Padmé’s death continue to haunt him, and he becomes more and more desperate to get into the Jedi Archives to look for information that might save her from dying in childbirth. His increasingly erratic behavior is noticed by both Obi-Wan and Padmé, and although both feel guilty for not telling him of their investigation into Palpatine, they both agree that he is too close to the Chancellor to be trusted with the information (citing the very reasons Obi-Wan gave to the Council earlier).

Then comes the news of General Grievous’ whereabouts on Utapau. Palpatine makes it known that he wants Anakin to lead the campaign to deal with the menace in a classic reverse psychology move that the Council falls for when they insist on Obi-Wan dealing with the issue. Obi-Wan interjects, suggesting a compromise that has both of them go, which soothes Anakin’s smarting ego a bit and also sends the silent message to Yoda and Mace that they need to keep things on an even keel as much as possible while Obi-Wan and his allies investigate Palpatine and his inner circle.

Anakin is optimistic. Though he is convinced he could deal with Grievous himself, he thinks he and Obi-Wan can handle it that much faster and he can get back to Coruscant to continue his own quest to save his wife. He’s also a bit confused as to why Padmé and Obi-Wan are chatting more and more often these days, and is even a bit suspicious, though he is mollified when Padmé tells him that she was asking Obi-Wan to look out for Anakin as Anakin looks out for Obi-Wan, since Anakin’s been a bit scatterbrained and distracted lately.

So Obi-Wan and Anakin take off with the 212th and the portion of the 501st that Anakin didn’t leave on Mandalore with Rex and Ahsoka to go render Grievous for scrap. Meanwhile, back on Coruscant, Bail Organa’s spies strike gold when they accidentally hack Palpatine’s private comms, in particular the ones he has with Dooku (before his untimely demise) and Grievous. This leads them to new avenues of exploration, and they are able to trace Palpatine’s dealings which led the Republic into the war. The news is shared among the core group of Do2000 senators and they are rightly freaked out, but are uncertain as to what to do with the information. Obi-Wan was their sole Jedi contact, as they hadn’t thought they’d find information so quickly to share with the Jedi, and they aren’t certain who to trust on the Council.

Fast forward, Anakin and Obi-Wan return to Coruscant after dealing with Grievous with the news that they know where the Separatist leaders are going, and are immediately jumped on by Padmé and her co-conspirators. They’ve been growing increasingly frantic as another vote to give more power to Palpatine is coming up and they think this will be their only shot at outing Palpatine. Padmé tells Obi-Wan this, but doesn’t bother trying to hide it from Anakin anymore.

Anakin doesn’t believe it at first, clinging hard to the trust he’s had in Palpatine for the past 13 years, and when he finds out that she and Obi-Wan have been conspiring to spy on Palpatine, he gets more and more irrational, accusing them of all sorts of things. In desperation, Padmé pulls out a copy of some of the messages that Bail gave her, including one that Palpatine sent to Grievous about Dooku’s death and how he’d soon have a newer model for an apprentice, one far more powerful. For Obi-Wan, the pieces fall into place, and he’s franticly trying not to freak out because omg he left Anakin alone with a Sith Lord for 13 years. Anakin hears Palpatine’s voice, knows in its heart that it’s him, and starts to break.

Eventually, the news makes it to the Council, and predictably, Mace reacts badly. He wants to go in right the fuck now, lightsabers blazing, but again, Obi-Wan talks him down, this time with help from Padmé. The Jedi do not have authority to arrest people anymore, having been put under the Chancellor’s direct purview. So instead, they put together a plan to reveal Palpatine’s dealings and how he was behind the entire war from the get-go at the upcoming Senate meeting, with the Jedi coming in in disguise so as to not tip him off. They hide among the various senators’ retinues.

The gang puts together all of the evidence and at the Senate meeting, Padmé gets the floor to speak before the upcoming vote. She reveals everything, and causes utter bedlam to erupt within the Senate chamber. Palpatine tries to play everything off as him being framed, but Padmé keeps needling him with information she should not have, and succeeds in really pissing him off. He lashes out at her in what he thinks is a discreet use of the Force, choking her and forcing her to go silent. The Jedi, though, have been hiding and waiting for him to do something. They reveal themselves throughout the chamber. Anakin, who has glued himself to Padmé’s side, panics when he sees her being choked and tries to disrupt the connection, to no avail. Desperate, he lunges for the Chancellor’s podium, which does stop Palpatine’s efforts to kill her.

Palpatine manages to flee into his office and he opens up his communication channels, ordering the execution of Order 66 just as Mace and Obi-Wan and Anakin come rushing in. His plans are getting busted, but at this point, Palpatine is going to make any victory the Jedi manage to gain here as bitter as defeat.

Insert epic lightsaber battle coupled with the fight for Anakin’s soul. Palpatine loses both, ultimately (him attacking Padmé assured his loss of Anakin’s allegiance), but he’s still unleashed full chaos on what’s left of the Republic. The Jedi with the GAR are mostly wiped out, though thanks to a last-minute gathering of security forces, the Temple survives an attack from the Coruscant Guard.

In the wake of Palpatine’s death, various factions start jockeying for power. The Delegation of 2000, Separatist sympathizers that still remain in the Senate, and Palpatine’s supporters (led by Tarkin) all start scrambling for the scraps left at the table. In the end, the Republic still falls, and war continues, just in a different form, but there’s still hope. Anakin didn’t completely lose his mind, Padmé lived, Obi-Wan didn’t end up spending the next twenty years surrounded by sadness and sand. The different factions all end up going their own way, at least for the moment.

#star wars #ask games #answers #fanfiction #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #sheev palpatine #foiling palpatine's best laid plans #but everything still goes to shit

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thaliademaccuswell · 6 years

Text

An Tir's September Crown Tournament was last weekend, and my job as Royal Court Coordinator (plus, you know, my real life job at Amazon) have kept me too busy to post this until now. Then these pictures got posted today (copyright Anne Asplund)...So here goes.

When I looked up, Saturday afternoon, from whatever Court Thing I was doing, and saw who was in the finals, I cried. You see, I had promised my partner prior to this event that I would take a break from retinue, from service, from doing things for others.

And I knew as soon as I saw him that Kjartan was going to win. He just had that look, that set of his shoulders. You can see it right there, in that first picture, which is from the finals. He owned it. The end.

The problem is that the new Crown Princess is one of my absolutely literally favorite people of all time. She is fierce, she is funny, she is wicked smart, and she doesn't take misogynist or racist bullshit when it crops up in the Society like a bad penny. To see them win again was something I'd been dreaming about since their first reign, since we'd gotten together at Collegium the week after the Presidential election and just leaned on each other, absorbing each other's sadness.

In short, she fucking inspires me. I fangirl her, largely from afar, and this would be an amazing opportunity to get to absorb some of that wonderfulness. But. I had made a promise.

---

At 3am the night after the Tourney, my partner stumbled into bed, curled around me and said, 'We have an appointment tomorrow with Kjartan & Shaya.'

I groaned. 'What did you do?'

'Not me, silly. You.'

I was suddenly wide awake. 'I'm sorry?'

'Shaya was telling me all about how much you inspire her, and I said-'

'How much I inspire her?!'

'Yeah, and I said I'd tell you but you wouldn't believe me-'

'I don't believe you!'

'-so we have an appointment tomorrow.'

---

Turns out, she'd also said she understood why I couldn't serve on her retinue in a major capacity, but if I wanted to sing for her she would never say no. We did talk the next day, briefly due to everyone's insane schedules (this is a hobby, right?!), and hugged it out, and I didn't stumble over my words too much, or blush too fiercely. I don't think.

So here's to growing. Here's to inspiring others without even realizing it, without even meaning to.

And here, especially, is to the strong women of the SCA.

Who run the world.

#society for creative anachronism

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catthefearless · 6 years

Text

Blahday

I have been sick off and on for almost two weeks now. This is the problem with being immune compromised. One little virus and my whole system reacts and does nasty things. Today, it’s my intestines with mesenteric lymphadenitis which means they're angry and it’s like having an intestinal flu and an appendix reaction all at once. Add to that a migraine headache from the rainy weather right now and random joint pain from RA. Blargh!

The immune stuff started with my RA taking over my system decades ago and having a field day every now and then. Add to that the harsh chemotherapy for breast cancer I went through 13 years ago that completely destroyed my system and it still hasn’t fully recovered. Every time I get sick, I get knocked down pretty hard. It’s never fun knowing if I’ll be able to function one day to the next. It’s one of those “Silent” illnesses and it’s horrid at times.

But this isn’t about just complaining because I don’t do that! I laugh at my pain and suffering because that’s how I cope. Going through breast cancer treatment 13 years ago taught me to laugh in the face of pain, so I do! It’s amazing the absurdities that come with cancer treatment. Like, radiation treatment is laying on a big table with my arms akimbo and laying still while a machine moves around me. I would laugh, sing absurd little songs and try to recall any bad jokes I’ve heard. The techs always laughed with me. Going through chemo I would always comment on them giving me “the comfy chair torture” since the room was filled with recliners for the patients to sit in while receiving treatment. I would joke about how many pricks I had to deal with and no, not the green jello, the red one! When my hair started to grow back in I would joke about the latest in hair styles and make fun of the fact that it wasn’t in my face all the time anymore. I joked about it was a great Summer because I didn’t have to shave my legs or underarms once!

With illness and pain, you can either embrace it or you fail to survive. I choose to embrace all that I am and look at the funnier side of things so I don’t go crazy or fall into the self pity trap. Sometimes sharing your experience with others helps them too.

I play in the SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism) and I have a dear friend that is about to step up as Queen with a mutual friend as King. A little over a year ago she was diagnosed with cervical cancer and went through chemo and radiation and surgeries. I texted her the second I found out about it and told her if there was anything I could do for her, please just let me know. Her reply still brings tears to my eyes. She said that she appreciated being in my thoughts and in my heart and if she could only be as brave as me, she would be OK. I cried over that and now she and I are even closer. I am making their special garb for Coronation in two weeks and am on Royal retinue too as Mistress of the Robes. I get to make or coordinate the making of garb for them for their reign. I can’t wait to spend more time with this lovely woman!

All in all, life in my body is a crap shoot at best but at least I’m still alive and kicking to keep going on and laughing at all the absurdities in life.

@theincaprincess @deepestfirefun @pixiedurango @bofursunboundbraids @cd1242 @abiwim @armitageadoration @september-stardust @thorins-magnificent-ass @calicoskatts @loki-the-fox @tomssweetbouquet @patanghill17 @bellevox @mypatronusisastag-osaurus @princess-of-erebor1992 @fandomgalcentral @thestorybookmistress @thedarlingwriter @thegreyberet @sweeticedtea @raychellefay

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brenmeta · 6 years

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NANNA + COURT LIFE

Doesn't have much experience in court life

Alster was basically Nanna learning how to be a well-behaved little lady who says please and thank you, because she's 3

Tahra was training as a troubadour and watching Leif grow stronger and yet more "where the hell do I go from here", and the manners she learned from Alster and reinforced by her parents were enough

And then Fiana is a village in the boonies, and then FE5 and the rest of FE4 and uniting the Agustrians under Ares happened, and then suddenly Court Life

I like to think that the three of them (Nanna+Ares+Diarmuid) were all hired tutors and etiquette teachers to help them adjust

So that they can Not embarrass the shit out of Agustria once they start to go abroad on diplomatic trips

Nanna is willing to learn, but also struggles from the lifestyle changes and having a lot of her day-to-day routine done by other people.

But she's nothing if not adaptable, so she makes herself go with the flow

Nanna's schedule includes learning some sort of musical instrument (the voice, since Nanna is already a good singer,

The best part of court life? Ladies-in-waiting/attendants

Considering that Nanna knows so few people in Agustria, it's a grand way to make new friends for herself

She feels strange about ordering them about and asking them to draw her a bath or brush out her hair, because they're friends and friends, like, don't do that

They came at a time when she really needed friends, when she and Leif parted ways and her old life was gone forever

We love emotional support… we love having people we can cry to when the Fam is too much… we love people who understand this strange new place and can help her understand too… we love having friends!

Would often ask one of them to sleep in the same bed as her for a night so that she wouldn't be alone and maybe talk about the stresses of the day. Sleepovers every night.

Retinue contains her tutor and four ladies-in-waiting

One thing that Dorias and the troubadour thing did teach Nanna was the importance of appearances

Dorias (and Finn) wanted her to be a troubadour. Why? So that next to Leif they would be like Cuan and Ethlyn come again to reclaim Leonster

So she brings that back to Agusty and Agustria and tries to apply it

Nanna starts to grow out her hair again for Lachesis, and incorporates more pink into her dresses

It's not quite successful, because lmao no one's here for Lachesis. If anything it starts drawing more attention to her from older men from before the war and people aware of the Eldigan/Lachesis rumors. Nanna stops wearing pink, but she keeps the long hair (albeit in updos)

Outside of the advisors, she's probably the one nagging Ares about him needing to incorporate more red and gold into his clothing

"Wear the red curtain too, dammit, and make sure Mystletainn is visible at all times."

She would also find value in the three of them looking like an unbreakable family unit, coordinated outfits and colors and all.

Nanna and Diarmuid can't wear as much black as Ares does without looking like they're at a funeral, so she wants Ares to compromise for them

"It really is unfortunate that Lachesis and Eldigan didn't have a third sibling for Diarmuid to resemble, but we Nordions make do" "Nanna please I'm right here."

Around this time is definitely when Nanna starts flirting and being flirted with, courting and dating and all that

It was…. New. And difficult

"Be a courteous and lovely young lady who gently dismisses all flirtations. No dating until we decide whose ring we put on your finger"

"Courteous young ladies DO NOT TALK DOWN TO IMPORTANT AGUSTRIAN LORDS!!! YES EVEN IF THEY STARTED IT."

Nanna is a teenage girl in a room filled with attractive, well-dressed people who give her love and attention as the princess of Agustria, and you're telling her that she has to indirectly ask for someone to make out with her in an empty room. Unbelievable. Where's Ares and his lawmaking powers.

#nanna #jugdral

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merinathropp · 6 years

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Tanz der Vampire - Hamburg 2017: Detailed Breakdown

It’s official, folks: I have finally, finally seen Tanz der Vampire live. After 17 months of hoping, dreaming and saving - my little dream came true, and I flew to Germany to see the show. So! In loving memorial, I’ve written up a stupidly long review of my experience below. I saw the show twice, but have combined the entire experience into this one post. If anyone has a particular question about a scene or song, please just shout at me :) I’m up for any excuse to talk more about this show, being the obsessed fan that I am...

First night - from stalls left Second night - from stalls front row, right in the middle Graf von Krolock - Mathias Edenborn Alfred - Tom van der Ven Sarah - Maureen Mac Gillavry Sarah - Anja Wendzel (alternate) Professor Abronsius - Victor Petersen Herbert - Kiryll Zolygin (alternate) Magda - Sara Jane Checchi Chagal - Jerzy Jeszke

GENERAL

- This trip was worth every dang penny. Hands down one of the greatest musical theatre experiences of my life I encourage everyone to save up, spend the money and fly to Germany to see this musical live, at least once your lifetime. You will not regret it.

- What blew me away the most about my entire experience was coming to the realisation that Tanz der Vampire is a legitimately spectacular musical at its core, more so than I had ever given it credit for. Everything comes together to create an entirely immersive experience that sweeps you off your feet for 3 hours, and a shaky camcorder bootleg can never, never match its true glory.

- Orchestra was full and luscious, to my ears. No idea what all the complaints are about, Hamburg has definitely pulled out all the stops in this regard. There was a killer pianist banging out some stuff I’ve never even noticed on the CD! - The lighting was pure magic. My word, this show does not get enough credit having some of the most awe-inspiring lighting I think I’ve ever seen onstage. Highlights for me were the gleaming moonlight that floods the back of the stage during Tanzaal and the eerie golden glow of sunrise in Carpe Noctem.

- The sets are unearthly and gothic and stunning; the rotating cottage blanketed in snow, the graveyard swimming in mist with its wrought-iron gates in silhouette, the cavernous ballroom with its winding staircase, the maze of bookcases draped in cobwebs and dust...gosh, there are too many to name. I’ve always leaned more towards the Kentaur Revival sets, but having seen these ones live, I’m starting to seriously reconsider my opinion.

ENSEMBLE

- Is it just me, or are the German casts always uncannily brilliant when it comes to their mirror doubles? I swear this is one thing the Russian casts never managed to pull off. Even from the front row, it still looked like Alfred’s reflection was dancing with an invisible Herbert. And the trio at the end were perfectly synced, right down to drawing breath in unison. Absolutely ingenious.

- Roten Stiefel was sublime, especially the first time I saw it. The ensemble seemed to be dancing on air, every movement just flowed and Sarah literally flew around the stage like she was on cloud nine. I don’t think I breathed for the entire sequence.

- The coordination of the choreography in Ewigkeit blew me away. You just don’t know where to look during that number, it’s such a visual spectacle! Like a literal load of rotting corpses, each trying to keep themselves in one piece long enough to feed. One guy clearly had a case of Nearly-Headless Nick, one guy kept ‘popping’ his arms back into their sockets, one lady was totally spastic - they’re all so individual and creative!

- Nightmare!Alfred and nightmare!Sarah were haunting and lovely. Every movement between them was so gentle and full of longing. The way nightmare!Alfred looked at her, guh - tender and sweet, yet oddly aloof and mysterious, he was so interesting to watch! And his snarling at the end was vicious, like a mad dog or something, really chilling stuff.

- Nightmare Solo 1 was replaced by HERBERT HIMSELF! Yes, it was HERBERT who appeared on top of the bed and introduced Carpe Noctem, cementing his ‘puppet master’ role 100%. He was so graceful and controlling throughout the entire number, moving his hands like he was ‘guiding’ each dancer into place. And I loved that the replacement meant that Herbert was the first and last character to leave the nightmare, he remained on the bedpost gazing down at sleeping Alfred until the very end of the singing, before drifting off upstage. Ugh, so many new Carpe Noctem headcanons...

- I was disappointed with our Black Vampire. He never threw himself into his movements, there was no power or danger in anything he did, just...perfectly okay dancing, and one really odd lacklustre jump. Bit of a let down :(

KROLOCK (Mathias Edenborn)

- You know how everyone in the fandom says you never forget your first Graf? Well...shoot, turns out they’re absolutely right. Mathias was magnificent and blew all my expectations away; I’ve never thought much of him, in the videos I’ve seen, but watching him live was an incredible experience. He was electrifying from the moment he glided onstage, and commanded the attention of the whole theatre. His Krolock was refined yet animalistic, powerful yet broken, charming yet icy cold, passionate yet subtle. He could also be raw and human when he needed to be, and for the first time, actually made me FEEL for the character. And he has this massive booming powerhouse voice to boot.

- During Vor Dem Schloss, he was very intent on Alfred, standing right up close to him and wrapping his cloak around his shoulders. He also did a lovely elegant gesture where he traced the outline of Alfred’s face with his fingertips. Tom was reacting so well to him, the two just played off each other beautifully throughout the whole scene, just this constant push and pull, like there was a magnetic force between them - brilliant stuff. That chemistry, I Am Here For It.

- When he was talking about Die Fledermaus, he went: “Genial! (deadpan sarcasm, staring straight out into the audience) ...Ich war gefangen.” Ouch :)

- During Einladung, he examined the planks of Sarah’s door and ran his fingers over them in a mocking sort of way when he sang the word ‘sicherheit’ - like he was sneering at Chagal’s efforts and how feeble/useless they were.

- During Totale Finsternis, he did something very interesting; every time he turned away from Sarah, he seemed to be secretly struggling with himself, not from thirst, but almost as though he was overwhelmed by the sin he was committing, and feeling some measure of conflict over it? He’d reach towards her, and then shake his head and pull back at the last minute, and turn away from her with this broken expression and put a hand to his heart. Finally, at the very end of the song, when he turned to face her and saw she’d bared her throat - his face went entirely blank, cold and decisive, like he’d made up his mind in that moment. Such an interesting take on the number, turning it into a moral dilemma for Krolock even as he’s drawing Sarah into his web!

- During Tanzaal, at the very beginning when he first appeared at the top of the stairs, he greeted the retinue of vampires with a German word I couldn’t catch, and then held out a hand in Herbert’s direction, and announced “Sohn!” with great solemnity and I absolutely loved it :’) all the family Krolock feels.

- He had so much adorable interaction with Herbert throughout the rest of the number, it warmed my heart. They would laugh together and Herbert tapped his shoulder when Sarah entered the room, then leant over to say something to him and they grinned together like two gothic super-villains, it was AMAZING. When Sarah came down the stairs and revealed her full dress, Krolock glanced back at Herbert and raised his eyebrows, like he was saying “See? Told you she was something.” and it was the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen a Krolock do.

- When Alfred almost collided with him at the end of the minuet, he reached out a hand and sort of flicked/stroked Alfred’s open fingertips with one of his nails. It was so creepy and menacing, like Alfred was a mouse on a cat’s claw.

ALFRED (Tom van der Ven)

- Mixed feelings on Tom’s Alfred. I found his first performance dull as dishwater, he had this odd vacant expression for about 50% of the show and it was maddening how bland he made Alfred, even though his chemistry with Sarah and Krolock was fantastic. But! Low and behold! His second performance was much better: more reactive, more expressive, more everything. He brought the character to life, at least in most scenes, and won me over against all the odds.

- I know I’m preaching to the choir here, but oh my word, he is the absolute cutest of cute Alfreds. If him and Sergey ever starred in Tanz together, the theatre would implode from sheer cuteness overload. He’s so small and slender with these big wide innocent eyes, you just want to hug him every time he walks onstage. He also puts on an oddly plaintive high-pitched voice for Alfred, which I found ??? initially, but I do think it works with his performance. Also: my relatives said his accent was distracting, but I didn’t notice.

- I love, love, love how truly sincere and ardent he plays Alfred, during any interaction with Sarah. Wirklich Sehr Nett was a real love-at-first-sight moment for him: he spoke so softly to Sarah, he was tentative and gentle, but so genuine. He clearly meant every single word he said, and he gazed at her like she was the sun and moon and stars. My heart, it hath feelings.

- Another Sarah-related thing that he kept up through the entire show: whenever he was singing about Sarah, thinking about Sarah, even remembering Sarah in Ein Guter Tag (“Heut oder nie finde ich zu ihr!”) or Der Gruft (“Denk an Chagal’s Tocher!”) - he got this dorky, dreamy, crooked half-smile and gazed off into the distance like he’d been momentarily transported to Heaven itself and oh my gosh that smile could melt the coldest heart I swear...

- During Tanzaal, he didn’t recognise the Professor at first and just stood awkwardly beside him for a bit...before doing a double take, like “Oh Professor, it’s only you!” which was ever so cute. Then during his little step-toe dance across the stage, he picked his feet up SUPER HIGH like he was trying extra hard to be a Fancy Vampire and it made me giggle so much.

- Any Krolock/Alfred shippers in the house must have been having a field day, because he was so FOCUSSED on Krolock during Vor Dem Schloss, I don’t think he took his eyes off him for a moment. He’d take little stumbling steps towards him like he couldn’t help being drawn in, but then he’d shrink away and sort of ‘hunch’ in on himself in defence when Krolock came close. But when Krolock came right up behind him and shadowed him with his cloak (“Ich lehr dich was es heißt zu leben”), Tom actually turned his head over his shoulder and tilted his face up to gaze at Krolock, VERY reminiscent of Totale Finsternis (paralells!!!!! my favourite thing!!!!!) which was just awesome.

- Der Gruft was a highlight of both shows, Tom was legitimately hilarious with perfect comic timing, but still so sincere that it broke my heart. When he dropped the hammer, he gazed out at the audience in total horror for a few seconds, before squeaking “Ich kann das nicht” in this tiny high-pitched voice that made the audience laugh so much. Then he delivered “...Aber ich kan dass troztdem nicht!” even higher and squeakier and the audience laughed again and a lady near me went awwww, because it was just so pitiful and sweet.

- I also liked that he went to stake Herbert’s coffin first, out of complete instinct, before the Professor called him back. Interesting that he would consider Herbert most dangerous on a purely subconscious level, even before the events of Wenn Liebe.

- During Draussen Ist Freiheit, when Sarah booped his nose with her finger, he blinked and raised his own hand to touch his nose in wonder, like “Oh, she nose-booped me :3” and it was just. so. freaking. adorable.

- HE TRIED TO KISS SARAH AT THE END OF DRAUSSEN, A PROPER KISS ON THE LIPS, MY BRAVE SON...and he mirrored the gesture in the Draussen Reprise as well, right at the climax of the song, he went for a big sweeping kiss right before Sarah bit him. My heart, it hurts. #GiveAlfredHisFirstKiss2k17.

- He also had a fantastic reaction to the bite. He was choking and lolling his head, jerking from side to side and crying out but not quite screaming; he made it believable that the Professor would never hear :(

- His voice has improved, he belted out the latter half of Fuer Sarah with all the warmth and passion in the world. He had a huge grin on his face, and after the end of the song, he let out his breath and collapsed back against the bed, like The Emotion had just overwhelmed him completely <3

- During Wenn Liebe, his delivery of “Ich zittere niiiiieeeeeee!” was hilarious, his voice was so squeaky and he drew out the last vowel like pleeease noooo.

- He spent the whole dance with Herbert going ‘oof!’ and ‘ah!’ and brought out the protective mother bear in me, because he’s such a delicate guy and needs to be Handled With Care but alas, this is not a concept Herbert understands...

- One acting choice I will never understand from Tom: his very mild, bland facial expressions during certain scenes where the focus isn’t placed chiefly on Alfred, e.g. the whole Chagal-vampire-staking sequence and Wenn Liebe. It’s almost like he doesn’t think anyone will be watching him, during these scenes? But I find it very distracting. For example, when he and the Professor discovered Chagal was missing, he looked...vaguely surprised, rather than shocked/terrified. And during Wenn Liebe, most of the time he’d just stare blankly out into the audience, even when when Kiryll mock-kissed him or declared his love. I think Alfred’s reactions are a HUGE part of what makes these scenes work, and it feels like something is missing without them.

HERBERT (Kiryll Zolygin)

- Kiryll was fine, but he wasn’t my kind of Herbert. He was cold, vain and predatory. He strutted around the stage like a peacock, smoothing his hair back and sticking his chin up and posing just like his father. Very refined, very confident, very intimidating; definitely the Graf’s son through and through. There was nothing amusing about his Herbert, he was cool and prowling and Wenn Liebe played like a sinister game of cat-and-mouse.

- He was also hard to read at times; his expressions were oddly closed-off and there were times when I honestly didn’t know what Herbert was supposed to be thinking/feeling. When he saw Alfred for the first time, he simply looked steadily at him, his face smooth and expressionless. Even throughout Wenn Liebe, he didn’t seem very besotted with Alfred, just amused - which made his groping extra-creepy and his declaration of love seem more ironic than sincere.

- Speaking of ironic, can someone tell this guy it’s okay to cosy the heck up to Tom when they’re dancing because I swear he was keeping about 3 feet of space between their chests and idk why Herbert von Krolock would ever keep Alfred at such a chaste, safe, heterosexual distance from himself...

- He had the sweetest, most delicate, most Herberty-y giggle I have ever heard in my life, it was perfect and made me smile every time I heard it.

- During Vor Dem Schloss, he did this amazing piece of catwalk nonsense in front of Alfred, striding back and forth like “yes admire me human, behold my glory” whilst Tom stared in bewilderment. My poor son, so confused :)

- He cracked appallingly in Carpe Noctem, both nights. I physically winced. The second time I saw him, he also broke off one of his notes way too early, which was obvious to everyone because Magda held hers perfectly. Poor guy.

- During Wenn Liebe, he mocked-kissed Alfred in the middle of the dance, but Tom didn’t react at all, and I felt bad for him because that’s actually quite a daring thing to attempt, but Tom’s lack of reaction made the moment fall flat.

- This is a bit yikes but I have to mention it: he very slowly and obviously licked his lips whilst watching Alfred run away into the audience, which definitely takes the jackpot for Creepiest Herbert Gesture Ever.

- During Tanzaal, he came down to the front of the stage and looked RIGHT DOWN AT ME THE AUDIENCE and sneered down at us like we were all Mere Peasants who were unworthy of his presence. I actually shrank back in my seat a bit, it was incredibly intimidating!

- One VERY interesting addition: he deliberately turned around and watched Alfred dragging his Ewigkeit vampire off-stage to steal his costume. He didn’t react much, just gazed after Alfred like "Hmmm..." - but it was interesting nonetheless, I’ve never seen a Herbert do that before.

SARAH (Anja Wendzel)

- Both my Sarahs were fantastic, but Anja truly did steal my heart. Bursting with energy and emotion, radiating chemistry with anyone she shared the stage with, and her belt was to die for (plus the sweetest, prettiest head voice too).

- She was such a SULTRY Sarah! I couldn’t believe how flirtatious and sensual she was with Alfred during Wirklich, it was almost too much to watch, and Tom’s Alfred was a complete wreck by the end of it :’) she was also very teasing during the bathtub scene in Act 2, waggling her finger and leaning in towards him when she talked about having one dance free. Poor Alfred.

- During Draussen, she also did this hilarious thing at the beginning of the song: she’s tiptoeing around outside, and suddenly Alfred starts belting “UNTER DIESEM DAAAACH” and she panics and gestures frantically like “nonono shhhhh SSSHHHH!!!!!” and it was so fresh and absolutely hilarious :)

- During Red Boots Ballet, she’d gaze off into space and move in perfect unison with her dance double, lifting her arms a bit or swaying backwards and forwards, basically play-acting the entire dance sequence going on behind her.

- During Gebet, she did something so beautiful, it moved me almost to tears. When Rebecca started singing, she froze in place and her face lit up with recognition, and she whispered “Mama!” so softly. Then she unfolded her shawl, knelt down to pray, but as she prayed, she was shaking her head and trembling and fighting back tears, and finally she couldn’t stop them any longer, and she stopped praying and started sobbing - actually, properly sobbing. It was almost like she was grieving the life/family she was leaving behind. And then as the song built and built, she stopped crying and got this new expression of strength and determination, like she’d finished her mourning, and now she was ready to make her move and start her new life, and finally by the end of the number, she was belting out the final notes with so much passion, her voice was exploding off the stage in front of us, and it was breathtaking.

SARAH (Maureen Mac Gillavry)

- This woman had a belt that could rival any Elphaba, and her Sarah was so vivacious and likeable, I think she made the entire audience fall in love with her alongside Alfred, which is my very favourite kind of Sarah tbh.

- She ADORED Alfred, she seemed so giggly and awww over him during their interactions together. Even during Draussen, she clearly still thought he was sweet, she bopped him on the nose and it was simultaneously super cute and a bit patronising all at once - such an effective little gesture!

- She also made me tear up when Chagal was beating her, she full-on sobbed and cried out at the top of her voice, and then begged him with clasped hands. It was very upsetting, the most harrowing rendition of the scene that I’ve ever watched, she was so raw and desperate in that moment, you just knew you’d do anything to escape if you were in her shoes.

PROFESSOR (Victor Peterson)

- This guy was was...argh. Not my cup of tea. A very unsympathetic Professor, he came off as plain selfish and annoying. His self-obsession was unbearable in Wahrheit, there was nothing endearing about it at all, he was so shrill and simply came across as obnoxious and over-the-top, like he wanted the whole world to worship him. And half of his jokes didn't land, I swear the audience laughed more at Tom during Der Gruft than they ever did at him.

- His relationship with Alfred was downright cruel in places. He pushed him around and hissed at him really aggressively and pinched his cheek and gosh it was just Not A Good Time. No wonder Tom struggled to show any kind of real devotion to this guy; I usually live for the Professor/Alfred dynamic because it’s so heartwarming, but this was...gosh. This made me almost (almost!) want Alfred to leave him and serve Krolock & Son instead.

- His voice was brilliant. I cannot deny this, it was brilliant. He handled the falsetto sections with absolute confidence and every note was perfect.

MAGDA (Sara Jane Checchi)

- Magda belted stunningly twice...and belted badly twice. I think perhaps she had a bit of a cold, as she seemed to be straining on some of the high notes.

- That being said, her portrayal was wonderful in every other regard; she was so sweet, so cautious and observant, and seemed to really like Alfred. She spent the whole of Knoblauch trying to get his attention, and seemed to find his ogling very endearing and sweet. Strange, because the patrons of the inn also ogle her like crazy, and grab her skirts etc. which she clearly hated. Maybe she saw Alfred’s ogling as more involuntary and therefore more innocent? (though tbh Tom could make robbing a bank look innocent, so maybe that’s moot point)

- She also gave Chagal a few little smiles during Nie Gesehen which was very unexpected, almost like she was disapproving of his behaviour on principle, but deep down thought he was quite amusing. Interesting take on that relationship.

- During Wahrheit, she and Rebecca were signalling back and forth, across the yard; Rebecca wanted her to eaves-drop on Alfred and the Professor whispering together, but Magda couldn’t make out the words as she was too far away. I love the idea of these two characters being in ‘cahoots’ so to speak.

CHAGAL (Jerzy Jeszke)

- I want to mention that Chagal was not only hilarious, but also slightly less lecherous than other performances I’ve seen. His voice was also fantastic, a very strong full sound, which made his more honourable moments (e.g. “Ich bringt sie wieder!”) surprisingly impactful. Good job, my dude, good job.

#tanz der vampire #dance of the vampires #tanzblr #the fearless vampire killers #bal vampirov #vampires #musicals #germany #merina rambles #save #calcu-lass #theadventuresofacatholicnerdling #I finally wrote The Thing

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heartslogos · 5 years

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newfragile yellows [641]

“Alright, Chief, I hate to bring it up and be the bearer of bad news…”

“And yet here you are, pushing onward,” Bull says, eye closed as he unenthusiastically flops his hand outwards. “Yeah, what is it?”

“It’s about that time of year when the Inquisition makes its rounds doing the usual stuff. Orlais is throwing yet another ball and we’re all to attend,” Krem continues. “That means you. You know. As a bannerman of the Inquisition. And I’ve got to submit a headcount to the Ambassador so they can begin the plans for organizing the Inquisition’s retinue and stuff.”

“I just got my entire ass handed to me by a dragon,” Bull says. “And nearly died. And then my wife found out about it and then nearly finished me off.”

Lady Ellana clicks her tongue, just barely audible over the sound of her knitting needles.

“You both know I’m not very good at this,” she says, “I’m just learning. I was just getting into the right mindset. The correct pattern, if you will. And now you’ve distracted me with this unpleasantness.”

“Sorry, my lady.”

Ellana shakes her head and attempts to puzzle out where she went wrong.

“We’re thinking that you might be good for travel by the time the Inquisition needs to get moving to meet the various party dates in time,” Krem says, turning back to Bull. “I mean, you’ve got two months. Two and a half if we’re pushing it. Chances are the weather will even be better for you down there.”

“Mighty bold assumption of you to make that I’ll be well enough for travel,” Bull says, weakly pointing his thumb towards Ellana. “If I do go it’ll be me, her — “

“And that’s a very bold assumption for you to make, lord husband,” Ellana says, tossing her knitting into a small little basket at her feet. “You haven’t even asked me if I would go.”

Bull opens his eye and slowly looks at her.

Krem looks between the both of them as Ellana gives Bull a very stern and disappointed look.

“Why in the world would I want to go to a ball in Orlais?” Ellana asks. “And for that matter, why would I want to go to Orlais? At all? It’s been almost a full month since I’ve left Morrin and I cannot leave it unattended for that long. There’s things to manage, Bull. Correspondences to handle. Various projects to oversee. Disputes to settle. It wouldn’t do to leave our lands out of order in order to go galavanting around the disappointing countryside that is Orlais.”

“You’d leave me to the wolves?”

“If there are wolves in Orlais they’re Dalish bred, I assure you,” Ellana examines her nails. “It’s unusually presumptuous of you to just assume I’m going to do something just because I’m your wife.”

“So that’s a no.”

“You haven’t asked me my opinion at all.”

Bull looks at Krem. Krem gestures at Bull to go on.

Bull sighs.

“Lady wife?”

“Yes, lord husband?”

“Will you accompany me on the Inquisition’s trip to Orlais for the yearly ball?”

Ellana smiles at Bull serenely, shooting Krem a quick wink.

“Bull, I’m your wife. Of course I’m going to go with you. It would look quite poor of us not to attend as a united front.”

Bull lets out a long, quiet sigh.

Ellana turns towards Krem, “Now. It’s in two and a half months time? There is much to be sorted out. We’ll need to send word back to Morrin and coordinate to make sure things are going reasonably well and that they can handle a slightly prolonged absence. Krem fetch a pen and paper for me, I have instructions that I need to send out. And I will also need to commission some clothes, and I will need to send word back to my family. By what route will we go? I might be able to get a quick word with Lord Surana, the two of us haven’t spoken in ages. Not since I was a little girl, I think. And it would be good to renew ties, especially now that I’m no longer an official for the Dales. Krem, could you fetch me a list of people I can speak to regarding the contents of this ball? And send for a healer to check on my lord husband, he was being a bit of a fool earlier and I think he jostled something.”

“I was not.”

“You certainly were. Just because I wasn’t there doesn’t mean I don’t know,” Ellana reaches out and pats Bull’s arm, “I was a former master of spies. I know things.”

“Yes, my lady,” Krem says, sketching a neat half bow and smirking at Bull, “Don’t cause trouble, Chief. Your lady wife might oust you. And I can’t say for certain who would side with you over her.”

“You’re all traitors. I’m putting all of you on the most miserable patrol duty I can find when I get back to the Coast. I’ll stick it right next to the worst slopes, the ones that we’ve been meaning to redo the roads on.”

“You sure know how to inspire loyalty in a guy.”

“Stop raising baiting him while he’s recovering from blood loss,” Ellana says, waving her hand at Krem, “Get me my paper.”

Once the door is closed Bull holds his hand out to her. She takes it, running her thumb over his.

“I was hoping you’d say no, that they’re crazy to think I’d be going in my current state, and drag me back home to Morrin,” Bull admits. “I think this is the closest I’ve ever come to being free of having to deal with the entire Orlais party scene.”

“I was under the assumption that you enjoyed such things,” Ellana says, bending down to kiss Bull’s fingers. “Though I suppose one cannot trust rumor.”

“I’m sure I’d enjoy it a lot more if I didn’t have trouble getting up to piss by myself,” Bull says, “I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like to stand around for hours in formal dress.”

“Well perhaps if you hadn’t attempted to do something stupid by yourself when you can barely sit up you wouldn’t be so uncomfortable now, hm?” Ellana squeezes Bull’s hand and gently lets it go, “Now. Before someone gets here to educate me on Orlesian parties, no doubt someone very respectable and knowledgeable and to my liking, you’re going to tell me what really goes on at such a party and how to handle it. I’m not walking into this with the manners of a Fereldan. And bless her heart, Ambassador Montilyet is a treasure, but I highly doubt what works for her is going to work for me.”

#heartsfic #gather your party and venture forth

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