#Chivalrous Devotion AU

[pajulammas]

Concept sketches for my upcoming Lansoni AU fic, Chivalrous Devotion!

EDIT// Some of these designs are a bit outdated, check out the actual reference sheets!

50-year-old Sonic finds himself in the world of Camelot again, but this seems to be a different version of that world. Everyone else thinks Sonic is King Arthur who has simply lost his memories. Sonic takes a quick liking to the 50-year-old Lancelot, a lonely single father of the 19-year-old Galahad. He is very fascinated by this mortal version of Shadow. Sonic has to balance his responsibilities as a king and a stepfather for Galahad, while keeping the relationship between him and Lancelot a secret.

Separate images:

I'm very excited about this AU and I can't wait to post the first chapter and make more art for it!

Twitter | Bluesky | DeviantART

[tillytilli]

art trade with @pajulammas of his au Chivalrous Devotion!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! old man yaoi

[riddles-fiddles]

Pspspsp MC with a royalty kink and wants to act out this fantasy with Rook Hunt. Afab please:)

I am hearing you out. I'm pretty sure Rook does have a royalty kink as well, though he would rather take the paper of a knight, a bard, hunter, or any other kind of servant lmao

Au Clair de la Lune (+18)

Synopsis: Rook partakes the role of a loyal knight who's eager to please and show his absolute devotion to you. Charcaters: Rook Hunt Tags: royalty kink, praise kink, worship, oral sex, most foreplay Notes: AFAB gender neutral reader, 1k word count, everyone is 18+ Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Rook rests his forehead down to the back of your hands, the ones which he holds with deepest esteem - like they are a pair of jewels with indefinable value. "I thank the grace you bestow upon this humble knight," his voice is a melody of sincere devotion, lips ghosting over your skin. "I'm grateful for allowing me to taste your skin, your higness."

As his eyelids flutters open, his gaze is captivated by the way you stand there, a mighty and imposing figure sat on the throne - the bed you two shared - as the moonlight hugged your curves with lavender outlines, enhancing the strands of hair shadowing your features, the way your shoulder curved slightly to the front, an uncoscious gesture to your desires.

He revels on your beauty, the way your stern gaze looks back down on him paralyzing his heartbeat; the feeling of being merely a pawn to your orders sending thrills down his spine. Rook has the heart of a poet and the desire to please of a servant, and being by your disposal was enough for him - his merciful, generous ruler.

Rook reserves his duteous instance; knee firm against the floor, hat pressed against his chest in a chivalrous way, his sharp eyes are cloudy with restrained lust, resigned on your next demand.

"Your obedience is commendable," a gracious smile paints shyly between Rook's lips at your words, his features softening in antecipation for your approval. "But it's not quite enough to prove your loyalty to my reign." With a low tilt of his head, Rook glances over your majestic face with inquisitive silence while his hands traveled down to your thighs, his gloved digits a feather brushing along the lines of your knees before tracing the design of your ankles. The gesture was careful and zealous, as if he was touching a monumental paiting - because in his point of view, that's what you are anyway.

"I beg your pardon, my sovereign. Allow me to correct my unfit behaviour."

Rook gently enveloped the back of your sole, bowing down to press an affectionate kiss over the curve of your feet, his warm breath tickling on your skin as the gesture left a lingering, warm feeling over your exposed skin. Taking his time, his lips climbed with passionate devotion over the same trail his fingers had previously marked on your body, his contented sighs a sweet incantation.

You reveled on the silent worship that Rook incited over your skin, wordless promises of his love and desire for you spreading to your nerve endings with every new kiss. His confident gaze met yours by a flickering moment, the sight of his face resting against your skin as he held your thigh with adorational attentiveness making you sigh in antecipation, heart skipping a beat as you marveled at the raw emotions shared between you two. Though you played a stern facade with your uptight words, there was no concealing of the way your body naturally responded to Rook's touch, practically melting against the contrast of his warm lips and the cold leather of his gloves.

Slowly, your thighs parted, revealing your bare core. Rook admired with contented surprise as you did so, tongue dewing over his lips in antecipatio with hunger glistening over his indigo eyes, gladly coming up to meet yours as you held his chin up, grip possessive and urging. "Prove your devotion to me, Rook," your voice lingered like a sweet spell hummed into his ear. "Bring pleasure to your majesty."

"Oui, mon majesté. Votre commande est mon plaisir."

Rook readily removes his gloves, laying them on the floor right beside his hat. His lean, firm hands come to rest on your soft inner thighs before leaning in, pressing a kiss over your clit, tongue spreading the folds. He gently sucks the sensitive bud over his tongue before pressing down, circling around as he alternated between different kinds of stimulation.

Your gratified sigh beckons him further. Rook brings two of his slender fingers to your wet core, slowly pressing down as he kept his mouth occupied with your clit, languish laps being contrasted by the intense, eventual sucking.

His heart jumps with delight as your pleased groan fills his ears, a hand coming to grip on the back of his head before pulling him closer, breath hitching slightly by the feeling of your hips bucking up, desperate for more friction.

His tongue is quick to match the pace you so desperately urges to find, rolling around the bundle of nerves in reverse to your motion as his fingers thrusted inside you slowly - teasing your sweet spot by pressing his digits against the soft area everytime he pushed them deep inside you.

You cry his name out like a prayer as your back meets the bedsheets, pleasure quickly turning overwhelming. Taking advantage of it, Rook positions both of your legs over his shoulders, lifting your hips slightly from the bed to get better access to your sensitive area; skilled, lean fingers rolled deep into your core, building pressure beneath your abdomen. The wet sounds that resonated shamelessly through the room, Rook's slurps and the merciless slapping of his fingers against your slick core sent shivers down your spine, your orgasm nearing its peak as your eyes fixed on the man's focused face.

And with a final, rough thrust, Rook's finger curls agains, sending an aggressive jolt of pleasure all through your body, making your back arch and your thighs close around his head. Rook can feel your orgasm shaking you from head to toe, but his mouth doesn't cease until your body finally starts to relax, too enthralled by the way you squirm under his touch, a shudder of veiled excitement mixed with satisfaction running over his own skin at the prospect of being the one responsible for your climax. His tongue savours the taste of your cum, and as you lift your head, a panting mess from the overwhelming explosion of senses, your flushed face greets Rook's confident yet messy grin, his face glistening with your slick all over. Still, he looks absolutely overjoyed, licking the mess from his lips greedily. "My precious, terrific knight," you sing the praises in soft, panting whispers, your grip easing around his hair in gentle caresses. "Your devotion is undoubtedly unmatched. Come, allow your ruler to reward your efforts." Rook's smile widens, his whole being flourishing with a chaotic mix of love, gratitude, pride and excitement by your sincere praises, quickly lifting himself from the ground to taste your mouth he so much longed for.

[yandere-writer-momo]

baki yarems in royal au?? I personally think, yn would be a princess, katsumi as a prince. Maybe hector as her personal stylist? idk about the others tho... What do you think?

You are the fifth and only unmarried princess in your family. You are incredibly naïve and innocent of the world because you’ve been locked up for most of your life. So you don’t quite understand how dangerous words and actions are in society. Perhaps that’s why you caught so many troublesome men’s eyes?

Hector Doyle is your personal butler. He picks out the best outfits, and he always knows the juiciest gossip about your suitors. He is very good at protecting you, and he is still an assassin on the side. You two have been together since childhood and he knows everything about you… so why don’t you just accept his barely concealed feelings for you?

Hanayama Kaoru is a tyrant king from the north. He is a very cold and war hardened man. He has interest in you after you stood up to the other nobles who were slandering his name. How could a stranger have such kind words to say about him? Unless they had a crush on him… he’s the first to ask your father for your hand in marriage.

Matsumoto Kozue is your lady in waiting! She has known you since childhood and she is your best friend. She loves being able to be as close to you as possible. She knows her feelings for you are ‘wrong,’ but she just can’t help herself. After her engagement was broken off with her lover, you consoled her and she has been attached to ever since.

Orochi Katsumi is the crown prince of a neighboring country. He is a very beloved prince and revered for his kindness. He was shocked when you didn’t acknowledge him and instead chose to dance with your lady in waiting at the ball. You spent your time at the food table and joking with servants. He eavesdropped on your conversation and heard you asking about their children. He fell for you at first sight. He was second to ask your father for your hand and he wouldn’t take no for an answer! He believes you two are soulmates! (You haven’t even spoken to him).

Jack Hanma is your personal knight. He was a child born from conquest (he has no idea he’s half royalty) and abandoned in the streets to die, but you urged your father to take him in. You were his savior and for that, he would devote his life to you. Jack would protect you from anyone or anything. He’s working hard to earn a title so he can ask for you hand in marriage… if not, he will convince you to run away with him. Once he finds out he’s Half royalty, he fights to become a prince. He’d do anything to be with you… he wants to be with you

Baki Hanma is a Duke from the West. He is Kozue’s ex and he is known to be quite pretty. But he is extremely power hungry. You are the only one unfazed by his looks and his power. You don’t like him but he’s intrigued by you. You were once very kind to him in his youth (big sister energy) and he fell for you. You’re the reason why he broke off his engagement to Kozue. So why won’t you accept him?

Kaioh Retsu is a diplomat from the East. He is very kind and chivalrous. You were the only one who warmly greeted him in the castle and held conversation with him. The two of you share knowledge about each other’s cultures and you two drink tea together a lot. Retsu is actually a prince from a foreign country disguising himself as the diplomat. And you were the perfect candidate to unite your respective countries…

Shinogi Kureha is the high priest. His word is law. He might have even more power than your father, the king. So when he heard about his precious childhood friend being pursued by so many people, he immediately spread the word that you’re meant to be the saintess! He completely made it up but no one needed to know that… after all, who would question the word of the almighty? Didn’t Kureha deserve happiness after devoting so much of his life to a higher power already?

[theanoninyourinbox]

New Years Requests 1

First cats of the year! @the-crypid-moth asked for TransM!Goose/TransF!Sage, @herald-of-the-end asked for any BlueOakThrush scenario I wanted, and an anon asked for StormLeaf!

In the first AU, at the first half-moon of Goosekit’s “apprenticeship”, Sagepaw kindly inquires pronouns (a traditional Shadowclan thing when meeting new cats). When he says he/him, and Cloudberry says no you’re a Girl, Redthistle interjects loudly. While the mentors argue, Sage asks how old Goose”paw” is, and is horrified. Redthistle! He’s barely 4 moons old!!!! Redthistle and Sagepaw angrily kitnap poor Goosekit back to Shadowclan, where he’s cuddled by the queens and comforted by the spirits, who vow to go slap the Thunderclanner’s spirits around a bit. After a scolding at the Gathering, Goosekit stays in Shadowclan, and becomes Redthistle’s apprentice after Sagewhisker. Sage and Goose bond over Gender, Rude Ghosts, and Medicine, and when they fall in love, Moth Flight herself shows up to announce new rules for medicine cats at the Moonstone.

In the next AU, Bluefur and Oakheart are snuggling in the tree (y’all know the scene) when an angry Mapleshade attacks. Oakheart kills her ghost at the expense of his own life, and Riverclan is devastated. Bluefur is as well, but with the help of Thrushpelt, who was her Thunderclan “boyfriend”, she begins to recover. And then realizes she’s pregnant. Bluefur gives birth to Mosskit, and falls in love with Thrushpelt for being a wonderful father. Mistykit and Stonekit follow when Mosspaw is apprenticed to a much kinder Thistleclaw. Snowfur helps from the elder’s den, leading to her broken legs getting stronger, and stopping the ableism before it gets off the ground.

In the last AU, Leafpaw goes on the Quest with Stormfur and the gang, and he’s crushing hard. Her medicine cat skills save Feathertail, though with a permanent wobble. Brambleclaw is mad about being shown up or something, and belittles Leaf until Storm yeets him into a wall and thumps some sense into the idiot. Being chivalrous makes Leafpaw all melty, but both agree to hold off, because Leafpaw is underage and Stormfur isn’t Gross, and because both want to talk to their leaders. This leads to Leafpool eventually moving to Riverclan, with Mothwing switching with her, and the Three being born on a moonlit night, surrounded by love and devotion.

Enjoy y’all cats!

[neonponders]

A cheeky WIP for the next Hunger Games!au chapter ~

Robin Buckley could take a fresh, black manicure down to chips within minutes, and she’d been through several as she waited on the Academy stairs. Steve allowed himself a casual jog once he made it a block away, but it sped up the closer he got until Robin practically caught him on the stairs and used his momentum to get herself hustling into the building. “There you are! Took your time.”

“I’m not late,” Steve defended, but mostly he hoped to will the fact into reality.

“No, you’re not late. You’re only leaving me with these people.”

“It’s your own fault for speaking three languages. Maybe if you flunked a little more, you’d be happier.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re skipping over the moon,” she sassed, elbow firmly hooked with his as if it were freezing or he might fly away. Steve felt grateful for the anchor. Robin stood almost as tall as him, making their strides through the cathedral-like lobby of the school strong and quick.

His mother’s voice echoed in the chambers of his memory. Gothic Revival. How many times it’s been revived, who can say?

Like she’d heard it too, Robin whispered, “How is she?”

“Same,” Steve clipped.

Robin nodded once, understanding, and then said at normal volume, “I’m coming over today.”

“Sure.”

She didn’t mean the penthouse. She meant his workplace. Steve had all but forgotten that he had a shift tonight. The elite of the Capitol were devoting more work hours than ever for the Reaping and Hunger Games, while regular people still had glasses to wash and food to serve. A part of him took it as a light at the end of the tunnel. The work at the old music club was hardly difficult, and the owner had been a close friend of his parents. Steve just hoped the whiplash wouldn’t damage anything in his head; he had to be Steve Harrington every day until the Games were over. Fresh as a rose.

They traversed the stairs and long hallways, more and more people loitering excitedly about as they went. Eventually Robin let go of him so he could do his chivalrous duty and letting her walk in first. When he stopped with his arm open, gesturing for her to go ahead, she scoffed, “Shut up,” which cracked a grin on his face.

[automatonkisser]

omggg 4 and 9!!

HI thank u for the ask!! ^_^ sorry in advance i'm going to get insane in the membrane about them (doing this for dottore & silvi)

4: "I'm Like a Lawyer with the Way I'm Always Trying to Get You Off (Me & You)" - How might either of you show your affection for the other? Is it more verbally, physically, or a secret third thing?

secret third thing in the sense that dottore is the "i would kill for you. ask me to kill for you" part of the relationship except silvi would be like "omg really?? 🥺"

gfhjgf NO BUT SERIOUSLY i think both of them have a hard time showing genuine (romantic) affection and it takes them a long time to actually...develop & recognize these feelings for each other in the first place. because one of them is an automaton who doesn't actually understand human sensations and emotions and the other is a human who's been severely traumatized and sheltered from other humans. but if we're putting that aside and get to where they actually begin being affectionate with each other (and if u'll allow me to get a bit gay and insane for a moment) then um...well, dottore has literally been built to be a performer (which, yeah, also includes killing people) and to be eternally devoted His Lady Francine and his efforts to make her smile...and while the automata obviously aren't romantically interested in her (she's more of a revered holy mother figure to them), i like to imagine this behavior/"programming" at least partially extends to his partner. i think he'd definitely put on little shows for silvi all the time, trying to entertain him and make him laugh (which actually works in his case), go full on cheesy mode and recite poetry or maybe even sing for him, get him bouquets of flowers and fancy chocolates and all that....also lots of pet names preferably in french. like he's kinda "performing" romance in this almost ridiculous over the top chivalrous way because he's just Built Like That. he's just trying his best. anyway at the same time he also definitely won't hesitate to kill & make minced meat out of anyone who dares try hurting silvi...or disagrees with him. or looks at him wrong. AHEM well once he gets his domestication redemption arc in my au, he actually makes an effort to refrain from hurting any humans...but it's still better not to test him :)

he's not too great at dealing with physical affection at first, though. he does touch silvio when he first starts spending time with him, but it's more about seeing how he'll react and because he thinks it's amusing to see him get flustered or startle him. however, showing actual genuine physical affection and being gentle with another (very breakable) being....that's something he needs time to figure out i think.

silvio, on the other hand, usually has an easier time expressing himself physically than he does verbally. actually talking about his emotions (and admitting he has them in the first place) is very difficult for him, and he's used to concealing how he really feels. other times he's also not actually sure what he's feeling, so he has a hard time verbalizing it. physical affection, while not always being an easy thing for silvio either, at least comes to him a little more naturally. with dottore, this mostly shows through silvio allowing himself to relax around him at first, like standing/sitting closer to him, falling asleep near (or even on) him, leaning against him for support, fleeting little touches that just happen instinctively because he's still a human with a need for physical connection....considering dottore is a large, dangerous puppet that could EASILY hurt or kill silvio, these sort of gestures and the fact that silvio allows himself to be this vulnerable around him are pretty meaningful, especially during the time dottore hasn't really made his intentions clear towards him.

once they become uh. a thing or whatever silvio also becomes a lot more overt in showing physical affection - he can definitely be seen clinging to dottore a lot, hugging him, napping on him, asking to be carried around by him etc etc....it's very new for dottore but he doesn't mind obliging. on top of that, silvio is also very ride or die for dottore gfhfg...he might not be as physically strong or imposing, but rest assured that he WILL find a way to get back at u if u cross his beloved.

9: "The (After) Life of the Party" - What was the moment that made you realize you had fallen in love with your f/o (this can either be answered as an irl moment or a moment in a story-driven way)? And vice versa, what was the moment that your f/o realized they’ve fallen in love with you?

augh ok so irl it was. kinda funny because when i first began watching/reading the series i actually didn't pay much attention to him. like, i thought it was pretty exciting when the pionniers showed up but i had no strong interest in dottore in particular. or so i tought..........i remember seeing this art of him and it definitely awakening something in me as u can tell by my tags probably jddhws

anyway i also did get a message from my cherished mutual @dissonantyote (who also got me interested in k/arakuri circus in the first place) encouraging me to become abnormal about him which was enough to turn the switch in my brain. every since then i've been doing so great (giving a thumbs up crying shaking covered in blood) (no i DO love him a lot though and he actually makes me very happy he's just also controling my brain)

ANYWAY uh...in-universe i'm not exactly sure yet what moment it was for both of them yet. the interest they had in each other at first was born more out of selfish desires rather than anything even remotely romantic, and it had to develop into something more genuine and affectionate over time...very slowly. [mild? spoilers for k/arakuri circus ahead in case anyone cares] either way i don't think The Realization happens until after the point at which the pionniers (which also includes dottore in this case) have been rebuilt by faceless and are starting to question their old ways. also i don't wanna get into this too much because it'd get way too long but let's just say they are both also really not having a good time for various reasons at this point and they try and find solace in each other a little bit maybe.....and i like to think that there's some point at which dottore realized that, for whatever strange reason, he genuinely doesn't want to lose silvio and that he is not replaceable to him. which is a lot more than he could ever say about any other human lmao. for silvio it was probably kind of similar....but i'm still in the process of figuring that out and trying to work it into the story

[jandjsalmon]

2021 Fic Reading Challenge Stats - November ⛄

It’s that time again - where I reflect upon what I’ve read for the past month to keep myself accountable - and for the @fanfic-reading-challenge​​​.

Speaking of the challenge - I FINISHED the CHALLENGE! I managed to complete both the easy and the hard challenge and I’m feeling pretty accomplished! Of course, I’m still keeping track of every fic/chapter I’m reading for the rest of the year and I’ll do a final round up at the end of the year.

Now - November. My gorgeous friend @feelavalanche​​​ recommended a million Sterek fics for my trip to Mexico and LET ME TELL YOU - it was freaking wonderful to spend my vacation sitting on a gorgeous beach reading amazing and awesome stories. Thank you to Paige for the recs - and thank you to everyone who sent me messages and links in my email and DMs. I haven’t read all your suggestions yet - but they’re all on my TBR pile and I love you and appreciate you!

Anyway, here are my November stats:

Here are just a few favourite stories I read this month.

⛄ The Standing Dead (2 fic series) by standinginanicedress (Derek/Stiles - E) Note: Stiles is a singer/songwriter (think TSwift) - and there are some SUPER dark themes (primarily Alcohol Abuse and Intimate Partner Violence that occured prior to the fic taking place and not between Sterek). But HOLY COW - the universe and the characters are so rich and developed. It’s a hard read but it’s amazing and moved me to tears several times. VERY VERY good.

⛄ The Galahad Principle by Chezzles.ze.Great (Sheldon/Penny - M) Summary/Note: A foray out of the sit-com world. Penny is attacked and reaches out for Sheldon's help. --- This one has some darker themes as well but it’s almost a ‘comfort’ fic to me because I’ve read it so often. 

⛄ Welcome To Your Life (Nine/Rose) and Life As You Know It (Ten/Rose) by cenowar (both fics are rated T/M) Summary/Note: Clips and companion pieces to every Doctor Who episode throughout seasons one and two. As the relationship between Rose and the Doctor develops, can he resist the temptation of his own selfishness?

⛄ What Will Survive by @thepointoftheneedle​​​ (Bughead - T) Summary:  This is a chivalric romance AU. There are knights and dragons and quests. There's a little bit of halloween-y spook. Think Green Knight but less scary and with an unambiguously happy ending. --- I read this twice this month... along with several more of Needle’s fics. This really appeals to my medieval history loving heart. I love a good AU (and all of Needle’s fics are good AUs). I love devoted Bughead. I love clever dialogue and beautiful imagery. If you haven’t taken a second to read this one yet - DO IT. 

–

So, I’ve completed the challenge now so I can read whatever I want. 

If you have any favourite pairings or fandoms that you think I may be interested in - please share! The year is winding up and I’d love to try something new - especially if it’s one of yours - please hit me up. I’d be happy to read it. Some of you have already shared links to your work and you’re on my tbr pile that I’m working my way through, I promise. 😉

ANYWAY - I know we’re all crazy busy with various holidays and busy times - but I hope you all have a wonderful and safe December. Thank you for being here. I appreciate every one of you. 

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

what are your thoughts on canon alutegra? no AUs or canon divergence?

Hm I’m not sure do you mean what I think their relationship is like, if it’s a canon thing at all, or whether I ship it?

Basically I think any romantic tension is entirely in subtext and not a thing either of them ever actually voice. I see their relationship more as pining from a distance, or perhaps a missed opportunity that during the timeskip Integra regrets never having taken.

Alucard’s canonically utterly devoted. But I think he’s also somewhat guarded and hides behind a veneer of apathy. Though he calls her his “beloved” master, and we see quite a bit of teasing and innuendo from his side, that’s not the same as saying anything to her in earnest. It’s not the same as making himself vulnerable or actually admitting feelings. I don’t think he‘d ever take the first step. Not with her... or anyone really.

Integra is similarly guarded, even moreso; I don’t think she’s at all ready to be vulnerable either.

They literally never touch in the series, which is made verrry clear during that last scene when she offers him a drop of blood from an impractical three feet away lol. She’s also pretty quick to pull rank when he strikes a nerve or in any way oversteps.

It’s difficult to analyze Hellsing without inserting any headcanons, given how opaque the emotional side of... everything is. But I think she does struggle with the idea of like caring about a vampire at all, which is part of why she’s so closed off and wary of him. That might change post time skip, when she’s washed her hands of a lot of expectations over what she must do or how she must act. But it’s difficult to be certain without seeing what actually happened during those thirty years.

Regardless, I think absence definitely made the heart grow fonder in her case. And if their relationship ever becomes more standard (instead of the weird BDSM chivalric devotion thing they have going on) then it would be after Alucard’s return.

As for whether it’s canon... I think so? Word of God has confirmed it twice. (We got both the “twisted love” comment, and Hirano saying that he always intended an AxI pairing so he matched Pip with Seras instead) And I personally think all. the. innuendo. put in context with the overt BDSM dynamic, and the romantically framed ending mean that it’s textually canon too.

Anyway, obvs I ship it, I think it’s cool and complex and pretty tragic. Like 90% of the Hellsing fic I’ve written has been Alutegra lol, though it’s usually a touch softer than I interpret them in canon and admittedly OOC in that they actually discuss feelings being a thing that exist at all! I like tragedy in romance and I think there’s a lot of that in this ship. And there’s just soooo much baggage and conflict that makes it fun to pick apart.

I hope... any of this answers your question ahaha

[pajulammas]

[Chivalrous Devotion]

Being a single father is tiring. Worry not, Galahad will soon wake Lancelot up and ask him to play with him.

loud_dad_snore.mp3

Heavily based on this Sonic Channel art by Yuji Uekawa. The dad energy in it is just so strong that I had to draw it as my AU's Lancelot and Galahad.

The fic can be read here!

Twitter | Bluesky | DeviantART

[kavkasia]

hey jade I know you said you're busy but 👉👈 could you tell us more about your georgia of? i love the vibes I get from him and I'm not very well versed in the history of the caucasus so I'd love to hear more about him 👀

You know the way to my heart... ❤️

I’m going to ramble, so if you want me to expand on anything don’t be afraid to send an ask about it! I’m just trying to compact my notes and not write one giant paper LOL.

NAME

Human Name: Giorgi (Ilias Dze / Ilyich) Davitashvili

Giorgi — His first name actually started as a joke (Georgia... Giorgi... very clever) but it also works well. The patron saint of Georgia is Saint George: a military saint which has been popular in Georgia for centuries (parts of Georgia post-Christianization are believed to have combined the cult of Saint George with the cult of the pre-Christian moon god Armazi). Giorgi is also the most common male name in Georgia and the name of many Georgian kings.

Ilias Dze / Ilyich — He doesn’t actually use his patronymic anymore, but during the USSR he did have one because Obligatory Russification Time™. It’s after Prince Ilia Chavchavadze, a major contributor to the revival of the Georgian national movement in the late nineteenth century and widely considered to be the “Father of the Nation”.

Davitashvili — A Georgian surname roughly meaning “David’s child”. It’s a reference to the Bagratoni King David IV of Georgia (also known as David the Builder) who is famous for keeping the Seljuk Turks out of Georgia at the Battle of Didgori. It was under his reign that Georgia began to experience its Golden Age and much of the Caucasus region fell into Georgian hands.

AGE

He is around 2500 years old (physically he is in his mid-late 40s).

He considers himself to be an ancient nation like Armenia and Iran. Not that he’s wrong! It’s just not often acknowledged by others who aren’t familiar with him.

PERSONALITY

[steals bits of this from my RP blog because I got tired from linking wikis in an upcoming section oops]

MBTI: ESFP

• hospitable • sociable • stubborn • prideful • short-tempered • charismatic • confident • passionate • brave • spontaneous • lazy • sincere • boisterous •

Ok, listen. He is a bit of an asshole I’m not going to lie LMAO.

He is the type of guy that argues a point even when he knows jack shit about it (he knows more than a professional!!).

He has an opinion on everything.

He is super prideful to the point where he genuinely believes his culture is superior and his language/food/people/etc. are the best.

He has a bit of a temper (the kind that just jumps out with some build up) and he is sensitive to feeling slighted.

He is a flirt but it is not cool at all. He is an attractive guy (I have a reason lol) but he uses the worst pick up lines.

At the same time:

He is very devoted and loves genuine relationships. If you gain his favour he will do almost anything for you (there is also the reverse of this though).

He is so hospitable he is famous for it.

He treats his guests with the utmost respect.

He can be very chivalrous towards women (but it can come from a sexist place oops).

He is very friendly once you break through his initial serious shell.

He loves jokes and anecdotal humour.

Miscellaneous:

He loves rugby, wrestling, football, singing, dancing, wine, this movie, and eating absurd amounts of (hopefully Pasanauri) khinkali.

He hates rules, not having enough money for cigarettes, if you put on a seat belt when he’s driving, criticism, refusal, and being called “Gruzia.”

He also plays the panduri.

TIMELINE

Before I start, I have to say Giorgi is not a collective personification of Georgia. Giorgi is actually the personification of the Kartlians! He just has the title of Georgia and so represents the nation on the international level (and also the domestic level depending on the situation).

Start (~5th century BC)

I pinpoint his “birth” to be around when several Anatolian tribes settled in Eastern Georgia and merged with the local tribes. He had a couple caretakers who were like siblings or sibling-parents.

Kingdom of Iberia (Kingdom of Kartli) (302 BC–580 AD)

In this period he gets baptized, starts loving God and Jesus (becoming the second nation in the world to adopt Christianity) and says no to paganism (but lowkey-highkey pagan practices were kept up for a long time).

Also, Iberia is the Greco-Roman name that is used for the area. When you see Iberia, know that it’s Kartli.

Principality of Iberia (588–888)

He is just trying to live his life but the Byzantine Empire and Sassanid Iran are ruining everything by fighting over the area. He also continues to love God and Jesus.

Kingdom of the Iberians (888–1008)

Lots of politics. Honestly, I hate it here.

Kingdom of Georgia (1008–1490)

The Battle of Didgori happens during this period and it was the best moment of his life. He has several amazing rulers including King Tamar. Lots of wars against the Byzantine Empire, various Turkic states and more. Eventually, the kingdom breaks up.

Kingdom of Kartli (1478–1762)

Here he gets fucked over by Safavid Iran multiple times and also works as a weird slave soldier too so life is great.

Kingdom of Kartli-Kakheti (1762–1801)

He has a short marriage to Kakheti that ends after he gets completely fucked over by Russia and then forcibly annexed into the Russian Empire.

Georgia Governorate (apart of the Russian Empire) (1801–1917)

There were actually several governorates in this period but for the sake of simplicity I’m going to list it as that one.

I have a small write up about the time here.

Transcaucasian Democratic Federative Republic (1918)

The Caucasus splits off from Russia. Giorgi represents Georgia and the TDFR (Armenia and Azerbaijan are also there as co-representatives of the TDFR). The Entente will later say they need to stick together but they forget one crucial detail:

Democratic Republic of Georgia (1918–1921)

Georgia splits off from the TDFR. Time to create a republic with a socialist government! Amazing! Too bad he’s the wrong kind of socialist according to the Bolsheviks and gets brutally stomped by the Red Army in 1921! 

All his neighbours want to fight in this period as well. The Entente also won’t commit to helping Georgia until it’s too late because they were suspicious of him after he had been forced to ask the German Empire for protection in 1918.

Georgian Soviet Socialist Republic (1921–1991)

Listen, the USSR was terrible, but at least Georgia was actually one of the nicer Soviet republics because he won the geographic lottery. He even got stereotyped as being the rich republic.

We just aren’t allowed to talk about Russification or the purges or the discrimination or the fact they would only print Georgia’s most iconic piece of literature in Russian.

(Oh, it’s also my headcanon that until 1936 he shared the title of USSR with the other republics.)

Georgia (1991–present)

1990s sucked. 2000s sucked. 2010s sucked. 2020 sucks.

Summary:

NOTABLE RELATIONS

Ukraine

Best friend. Best girl. His Suliko. He loves her.

(I also have way too many dumb AUs for them 😭)

Lithuania

Other best friend. They call each other by their proper names because fuck Russian names. Also, this video is them (Giorgi is the wrestler).

Kakheti

They were married at one point in time. He is closest to her out of all the other Kartvelian regions (it’s the Eastern Georgian solidarity).

Armenia

He is like a brother but they only really acknowledge that when they’re in a good mood or when one wants something from the other. It’s a love-hate relationship that has gone on for centuries.

Russia

Azerbaijan

They are... okay. They go from tolerating to disliking each other pretty quickly. He hates when he hangs out with her and Turkey and they only speak Turkish to each other so he ends up being a third wheel that didn’t want to be here in the first place but his economic situation means he has to show up.

Iran

They had major issues but things are fine now, I guess.

Okay, Giorgi actually still has some issues, but Iran just wants to come over for a vacation sometimes.

EU and NATO

BUT YEAH UM... that’s Giorgi. This is all mostly surface level stuff so again, if you want me to expand on anything just ask. Thank you for the ask and ily. ❤️

[tsc-living]

The Hogwarts Houses I have put The Last Hours characters in for my Harry Potter AU, and the reasons why!

These are well and truly up for discussion because I am only in the planning phase of the fic 😊

Please keep in mind that the Sorting Hat puts people in houses based on what they value and not because of who they are. (If it was based on who they are, Hermione would be in Ravenclaw and Luna would be in Hufflepuff, and god knows where first year Neville would have been).

Thomas: Hufflepuff- he is loyal and devoted to his friends and his family. He believes that everyone deserves a chance and equal opportunity. He is patient, kind and pure hearted. He believes in a very strong sense of right and wrong, and his morals are strong and clear.

Alastair: Hufflepuff- look I get that this one might ruffle a few feathers because Alastair is cold and arrogant, but he wears that like an armour more than anything. Alastair loves his family, his little sister and his mum at least, more than he could ever admit. He spent so many years of his life working as hard as he could to keep his family safe, and he wanted Cordelia protected from the shame. He is loyal and dedicated, and he has a very strong sense of right from wrong (like the not deceiving a woman because it would be wrong kind of attitude). He was also loyal to Charles, even when his love was engaged to someone else.

Matthew: Slytherin- okay so I am a little unsure on this one? I think that Matthew is a Slytherin because he is achievement oriented even though his achievements are not like others. He is cunning as well, he will lie and cheat in some regard, to get what it is that he wants or needs. I did consider putting him in Ravenclaw because of his wit and cleverness, and his love of beautiful things, but Slytherin sat better with me.

James: Slytherin- James is a leader, he possesses all the qualities of being a good leader as well as being ambitious. He also has a cunning streak, a secretive streak. However, part of me wonders how much of this is influenced by Grace and her bloody bracelet, so he is subject to change as time wears on, but for the fic I will keep him in Slytherin.

Christopher: Gryffindor- this took a lot of thinking about, and even some background research into the traits of Gryffindors that stems further than what we know in the books (and a discussion in group chat of wonderful girls and women on their thoughts). Christopher is so brave, he dares to be himself in a world that so often doubts him. He is chivalrous and he has nerves of steel, never backing down from any fights that he is faced with. The way he would battle through the possession of Belial that the infirmary faced, to try and warn someone he cares about, was incredible.

Cordelia: Gryffindor- she is a wannabe hero; she wants to battle and fight and bring honour and pride. She doesn’t feel nervous, and when she does it only ever makes her stronger. Tbh I don’t think I need to say more than that, Cordelia is clearly a Gryffindor.

Lucie: Ravenclaw- she is so creative and intelligent, I felt like this one was really easy to choose. She loves to make a joke, and is awed when someone has witty comeback to something. She finds writing to be the most important thing she can do and is even worried that she will never amount to something with it because she is a Shadowhunter. Like come on, let’s face it, she takes her writing materials places in case something interesting happens. Ravenclaw through and through.

Anna: Slytherin- I think that this lovely young woman is a Slytherin, although she very nearly could have been a chivalrous Gryffindor. I mainly chose this house for Anna because she has leadership qualities, and she is so ambitious and cunning in her wiles and ways. But mainly, I feel that it is because of her self-preservation that I put her in Slytherin.

[katemarley]

Priority One

Fandom: Mó Dào Zǔ Shī /Chén Qíng Lìng/The Untamed Pairing: XiYao Characters: Niè Huáisāng, Jīn Guāngyáo, Lán Xīchén, Niè Míngjué Rating: T

Summary: Whenever the vice president of the student union has a task for the union’s secretary, it becomes his top priority. The president’s younger brother notices.

Also available on AO3 (see the link in my profile).

*

Note: The student rep system in this story turned out vaguely British, I suppose… Anyway, MDZS is set in a fantasy world, so why not keep this Modern AU in sort of a fantasy setting, too?

*

“Oh, hello, Huaisang-xiong. Break between lectures?” Meng Yao entered the room with a cardboard box on his hip and his characteristically dimpled smile on his face. The trousers and waistcoat he wore were cheap but elegant, Nie Huaisang noticed with a practised eye as he looked up from his place on the sofa.

Huaisang was painting a fan for the theatre group. There was never enough time to unpack art supplies and get something done in between university work and performances, but his big brother was the president of the student union. That allowed him to use the union’s office rooms, leave his art supplies on the table next to the sofa and work in between lectures.

“Yep. Making a prop for our next performance.” He turned the fan in his hand, showing the ferns and flowers he had drawn. Meng Yao put the box on his desk and stepped closer to admire the decorations in more detail.

“Beautiful!” he exclaimed. His dimples became even deeper. “Seeing this, I’m sure all the props you have made will be extraordinary once again!” Huaisang acknowledged the flattery with a smile. Meng Yao’s words didn’t mean much. They were often casually flattering.

Returning to his desk, Meng Yao started to unpack the contents of the cardboard box.

“Forgive me if I don’t stay here to chat,” he said, “but I’ve only got an hour in between lectures, too. I needed to pick up these posters from the university print shop and will try to put up as many as I can now.” He took one of the posters from the box and unfolded it so Huaisang could see what was on it.

“Oh, it’s the next performance of Lan Xichen’s ensemble!” Huaisang exclaimed. What he didn’t say was Now I know why you’re so eager to sacrifice your off-work hours to some student union-related task again. He was in the union’s offices often enough to be familiar with Meng Yao’s schedule, and squeezing in an hour of extra work in between lectures was not his normal way of handling things. Meng Yao’s usual planning was too meticulous for last-minute troubleshooting to even become necessary.

“The printing process took a little longer than estimated.” Meng Yao rolled his eyes. “I already filed a complaint with the administration, but it’s likely nothing will come of it. Anyway...” The polite smile was back on his face, dimples included. “I’m off now. Will you be here this afternoon, too?” During your regular work hours, Huaisang added in his head.

“I guess so,” he said out loud. “This isn’t the only prop I need to make.” He waved Meng Yao goodbye with the painted fan. “See you later then!”

*

“You put up all the posters already?” Lan Xichen exclaimed incredulously. “How—” He paused and a frown appeared on his handsome face. “Wait. A-Yao! You didn’t skip lunch in the canteen for this, did you?”

“Don’t worry, Vice President,” said Meng Yao with a smile that was just that tiny bit wider when he looked at Lan Xichen. “I had lunch.”

Huaisang looked up from the forest he was painting on canvas. He knew he was the only one in the room, apart from Meng Yao, who had seen the box of cheap noodles in the bin. His brother was sitting behind his desk, too focused on his work to notice such things, and Lan Xichen was too honest to realise that his question about “lunch in the canteen” and Meng Yao’s answer didn’t necessarily match. Meng Yao, Huaisang had noticed, was a master in the art of not exactly telling the truth while simultaneously avoiding an outright lie.

“Still,” Lan Xichen insisted, “you shouldn’t have done this all on your own. Putting up posters is so much easier with a second person and I wouldn’t have minded helping you. After all, these were the posters for my ensemble.”

That, Huaisang thought, is exactly why he did this for you. Don’t you see how he’s looking at you? That soft glow in his eyes?

But Lan Xichen, the ever chivalrous, seemed to be oblivious to acts of chivalry done for him. And that, Huaisang pondered, even though it had been him who had started this by being pointedly kind to Meng Yao where others were not.

It had gone around that Meng Yao was the illegitimate son of the university president, Jin Guangshan, as soon as he had started his first year. Huaisang had only heard it from his brother, but there seemed to have been some nasty attempts at bullying Meng Yao, mostly by those of the rich folks who tended to look down on scholarship boys anyway. These attempts had all failed spectacularly, however, after Lan Xichen had made a point of sitting next to Meng Yao during lunch … and after Nie Mingjue had yelled at the bullies, telling them he’d break every single bone in their bodies if they didn’t stop. (That, Huaisang was sure, was also the reason why no one had ever attempted to bully him. His brother could be quite scary if he towered over you and yelled.)

From that moment on, Meng Yao had been part of the in-group. Some people were still talking badly about him, but never within earshot of his protectors, the two most popular students at the university. And when Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen had run for the student council, the ever well-organized and hard-working Meng Yao had managed their election campaign. When they had won, it had only been natural for him to apply for the position of student union secretary – and get chosen not out of familiarity or favour, but because he was actually the applicant with the most credentials.

Meng Yao treated both Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen with the utmost respect bordering on devotion, but with Lan Xichen, there were certain … differences.

Unlike his younger brother Lan Wangji, who was Huaisang’s age and seemed to hate any sort of physical contact, Lan Xichen would occasionally put his hand on Nie Mingjue or Meng Yao’s arm when he was looking over their shoulder at a computer screen. It was almost imperceptible, but whenever he did that with Meng Yao, Meng Yao would lean into the touch.

The moment when Huaisang had become convinced Meng Yao had a thing for Lan Xichen had come when he had seen them practice the guqin together. Lan Xichen had put his hand over Meng Yao’s to show him some finger movement, and the flush on Meng Yao’s face had been unmistakable… Had Lan Xichen looked up in that moment, he would have seen it, too. But he had only had eyes for the instrument.

While Huaisang had been pondering over his observations, the conversation between Lan Xichen and Meng Yao had moved on.

“…need to consider how to arrange the seating this time,” Meng Yao pointed out. “There are some new staff members – I sent them an invitation already, but since I’m not in the arts department, I don’t know their exact hierarchy and who gets along with whom.”

“Don’t worry, A-Yao!” Lan Xichen gave him a reassuring pat on the back – and again, Meng Yao leaned into the touch. “We can look over the seating arrangement for the invited guests later this afternoon.” Lan Xichen took his phone to check his schedule. “Well, early evening. There’s a meeting I have to attend at five, but after that, I’m free. It shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

“That would be perfect,” Meng Yao said with another dimpled smile. “I’m just going to wait for you in the office then. There’s still plenty of work to do anyway.

“Speaking of meetings,” Nie Mingjue made his presence known for the first time during their conversation. “Xichen-xiong, shouldn’t you be on your way to the master class now?”

“Oh dear…” Lan Xichen glanced at his phone again. “Thank you, Mingjue-xiong. You’re quite right.” He grabbed the bag with his xiao in it and rushed out of the office.

“As for you…” Nie Mingjue stood and strode to Meng Yao. “You shouldn’t say ‘yes’ to each and every task someone gives you,” he scolded. “The number of your overtime hours is already higher than what we can pay you. Take a day off, Meng-xiong.”

“Thank you, President,” Meng Yao said with a polite bow. “I will follow your advice. However, please allow me to help Vice President as promised.”

“You already confirmed the appointment.” Nie Mingjue nodded. “That means you must keep it.” Then he glared at Meng Yao. “Still, stop taking on so many chores. You don’t have to prove to us that you’re capable. We know that.” Saying this, he gave Meng Yao a friendly pat on the shoulder that almost brought him to his knees. Huaisang winced in sympathy. He knew how that pat felt.

*

Huaisang kept Meng Yao company as he waited for Lan Xichen’s meeting to be over. It hadn’t been a conscious decision – it was just that it took very long to thread the beads for a tiara on the metal frame he had made for this purpose.

“Huaisang-xiong, don’t you think it’s enough for today?” Meng Yao asked after Huaisang had yawned for the second time. “I think you should go home and rest. You’ve made a lot of props on one single day.”

Look who’s talking, thought Huaisang, but when he yawned for the third time, he admitted to himself that Meng Yao was right.

“Fine,” he said, almost yawning once again. “I’ll leave everything as it is, alright? Let me just collect the spare beads and put them back in the box, and then I’ll be off.” He gestured at the beads he had taken out of their box because he had expected to use them up within the next couple of minutes.

“Sounds good to me.” Meng Yao nodded. “Meanwhile I’m going to check if Vice President’s meeting is still going on. It’s past six already. Have a nice evening if we don’t see each other anymore today!”

“You, too!” Huaisang waved again, this time without a fan in his hand.

When Meng Yao had left the room, Huaisang picked up the beads he had put on the table, throwing them back in the box. And then it happened. He might have been too inattentive or too tired – in any case, the box tipped and most of its contents spilled across the room.

Oh no, not that!

Huaisang accepted his fate with an acquiescent sigh and kneeled down on the floor, picking up the spilled beads and putting them back in the box.

It took a while for him to clean the linoleum floor as best as he could – Meng Yao didn’t return in the meantime – but just as he thought he had finally found all the beads, he noticed one of them half hidden under the sofa. He pushed the sofa from the wall, collected the beads underneath, and pushed it back.

Then he realised that there might be even more beads under the roll cages beneath all three desks in the room. He checked them quickly – but then he noticed a bead that had found its way behind the partition that sectioned off the large printer and a small desk with a cutting machine, a punch, a stapler and scissors on it.

With a sigh, he took the bead box and checked under the small table. Sure enough, he found two beads and spotted another that had rolled in the gap between the floor and a part of the printer that didn’t carry its weight.

Huaisang was fishing for the stray bead when the door opened. He lifted his head to tell Meng Yao about his mishap – and immediately ducked. Then he had to look up again or, he thought, he would forever doubt what he was seeing with his own eyes.

Meng Yao had pulled Lan Xichen inside and was now pushing him against the door, kissing him with what Huaisang could only describe as hunger. He was standing on tiptoe, fingers digging in Lan Xichen’s shirt both to pull him close and to make him stoop enough for Meng Yao to reach up to him.

Lan Xichen’s eyes were closed and he responded to the fierce kiss with an expression of reverent abandon. One of his hands was wrapped around Meng Yao’s shoulders, keeping him close; the other still held the bag with his xiao.

After a while, Meng Yao broke the kiss. Huaisang ducked again, mind whirring. He had thought Meng Yao’s yearning was unrequited – or unfulfilled, at the least – but this…

“My apologies,” he heard Meng Yao whisper. “I … just couldn’t wait any longer. Being close to you without being able to touch you is torture.”

Lan Xichen gave a quiet laugh. Then there was another lapse in the conversation.

Huaisang peered over the partition – and ducked his head once more. Now Lan Xichen was kissing Meng Yao. He had put his xiao on the nearest desk – Meng Yao’s, as it happened – and was holding Meng Yao’s chin in his fingers. From this angle, Huaisang couldn’t see Lan Xichen’s face, but he had never seen Meng Yao with such an open and vulnerable expression.

Huaisang clenched his fists, staring at the floor with burning cheeks. He had to find a face-saving way to get out of this situation. Nothing of this was meant for him to see. Especially this expression … Meng Yao would kill him if he knew Huaisang had seen it.

“Now, A-Yao,” Lan Xichen said in a teasing tone, “we’ve still got work to do, don’t we?”

“As if I could ever forget!” Meng Yao replied with false indignation. Lan Xichen laughed.

When there was another silence, Huaisang dared to take another look over the partition.

They were sitting on the sofa now, far too close to leave any room for doubt about their relationship. Lan Xichen had wrapped an arm around Meng Yao’s shoulders, who leaned into him, a tablet in his hands.

Meng Yao’s tablet.

Huaisang remembered his surprise when Meng Yao had come to the office with that tablet the day after his birthday. His brother had told him he and Lan Xichen had gifted Meng Yao the economics textbooks he needed for his finals that year, so the appearance of the tablet had been mysterious… Until now, that was. If the tablet was a special present for Lan Xichen’s boyfriend, it all made sense.

The following conversation was incomprehensible to Huaisang because he didn’t see the tablet screen. There were murmured sentences like “How about seating them here?” – “No, I think over there would be better.” – “Then what do we do with… Ah, yes, good idea!” and “No, no, better place another person in between…” Huaisang inferred that Meng Yao had a digital seating chart on his tablet and probably a list of the invited guests as well. He made a mental note to ask Meng Yao about it for the theatre performance … if he made it out of the office without embarrassing himself.

“…and that’s it!” he heard Meng Yao exclaim in pleasant surprise. “That’s really it, isn’t it?”

“It’s the best we can do,” Lan Xichen replied. “We’re finally done, so…” There was a hint of uncertainty in his tone. “Will you come to mine tonight? Stay with me?”

“We shouldn’t do this too often…” Meng Yao said uncomfortably. There was a short pause. “Yes – yes, I will. And believe me, I want to – I’d love to stay with you forever! It’s just that…” He paused again.

“I know,” Lan Xichen said in the gentlest tone. “You want to gain the recognition of your father and everyone around you all by yourself, and I admire you for that attitude. Still…” His tone changed again, turning emphatic and almost pleading. “Please let me help you at least a little bit. Let us help you – Mingjue-xiong and me.”

“You’re already helping so much,” Meng Yao replied. His tone was gentle and fragile as glass. “But you must understand … If people knew about you and me, they would accuse me of sleeping my way up to the top of the social ladder. They say that about my mother, too. I don’t want…” His voice cracked. “I couldn’t bear it if they talked about you as if I was only using you. Them talking badly about me – I can take that. But not about you. Never about you.”

“Oh, A-Yao…” There was a rustle of fabric, and Huaisang didn’t need to be a genius to figure out that Lan Xichen was taking Meng Yao in his arms. “I still think we should tell the Nie brothers about us,” Lan Xichen said. “They won’t spill our secret.”

Huaisang’s heart started to pound in his chest at the mention of his own name.

“I,” said Meng Yao in a muffled voice. “I don’t want to burden them with the knowledge. I’m already selfish as it is, because…” There was another pause. Then Meng Yao whispered: “Because I want you for myself. The sensible thing would have been to keep my distance from you, but I can’t. I can’t…” His voice cracked.

“And that is a good thing,” Lan Xichen said earnestly, “because I couldn’t keep my distance from you either.” He paused. When he spoke again, his voice was raw and vulnerable. “Now let me be selfish, A-Yao: I want you. I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes upon you, carrying on as if it was nothing even though everyone was saying such bad things about you. I would be an unhappy man if you hadn’t reciprocated my feelings.”

Huaisang inwardly rolled his eyes. He hadn’t known Lan Xichen could be this soppy.

When there was another pause, Huaisang didn’t check what was going on. He was glad about his decision when he heard someone moan – he forbade himself to think about who it was – and was about to put his fingers in his ears when he heard Lan Xichen laugh.

“If we continue like this,” he said, “we’re not going to make it to my flat today.”

“That would be a pity,” Meng Yao said in an equally amused tone. “Your bed is far more comfortable than the sofa.”

“Then take my hand!” Lan Xichen laughed again. “Let’s go home!”

“Let’s go,” Meng Yao repeated. There was a timbre to his voice, a slight waver. “Home,” he continued eventually.

At last, Huaisang heard the door open and close again. He didn’t move.

He was … shocked. Yes, that was the right word for it. Meng Yao’s love for Lan Xichen … it was so obvious because Lan Xichen was the only person he treated differently. Lan Xichen’s love for Meng Yao, however … it was literally hidden in plain sight, Huaisang decided. It didn’t attract anyone’s attention because Lan Xichen was kind to everyone. That was what had fooled him. But now he knew, and he was bursting with that knowledge.

Please rethink your decision, Meng Yao, he pleaded inwardly. I don’t think I can keep that secret from my brother for long.

[shredsandpatches]

I've reread your wip wednesday snippet of the badly timed pregnancy au and I definitely stand by everything I've ever previously said about the Lords Appellant even if Thomas (Glouscester?) seems to be a bit more human/humane. And Anne's last sentence at the end was BRILLIANT!

Thank you! I was rather pleased with it. She means it, too; I write her as friends with the de Bohun sisters and they actually have a major role in the fic (they are both very sick of their husbands’ shit and concerned that they will get themselves killed). I tend to write Gloucester as having a bit of a chivalrous streak, at least where cute young women are concerned -- not in a pervy way (he’s pretty devoted to his wife!) but certainly in a somewhat condescending way. Like, here he’s certainly concerned that Anne doesn’t suffer more than necessary but, like Arundel, he definitely thinks of her as not really knowing what she’s talking about. (This is also how I wrote him interacting with her in this fic, for example.)

I also thought, when writing this scene, I should keep it reasonably close to the way I’d write it in the prime timeline, that’s why I didn’t spend too much time on Anne being Pregnant and Emotional even though she is clearly both things, and I kept her arguments focused on the politics and the motivations involved. And yeah, the Lords Appellant were total douches. I always get a bit bristly when historians frame Richard’s eventual retribution against them as the result of an irrational grudge or something; as I’ve said before, I’m not going to argue that everything he did in 1397-98 was cool or okay, and I know it’s difficult to prove psychological stuff like whether someone was traumatized, but you can also suggest those things -- if you can diagnose someone who died 600 years ago with a clinical personality disorder, you can argue that they were traumatized by something really bad that happened to them -- and that seems much more plausible than the implication that 1397!Richard was what he was really like all along and so there’s a reason he needed to be smacked down repeatedly. Like, of course he was obsessed with royal prerogative, his reign was defined by the struggle to have it acknowledged at all!

[neonponders]

When Coal Turns Into Pearls - Harringrove x Hunger Games!au - ch. 2

Ch. 1 | Ch. 3

• • •

Robin Buckley could take a fresh, black manicure down to chips within minutes, and she’d been through several as she waited on the Academy stairs. Steve allowed himself a casual jog once he made it a block away, but it sped up the closer he got until Robin practically caught him on the stairs and used his momentum to get herself hustling into the building. “There you are! Took your time.”

“I’m not late,” Steve defended, but mostly he hoped to will the fact into reality.

“No, you’re not late. You’re only leaving me with these people.”

“It’s your own fault for speaking three languages. Maybe if you flunked a little more, you’d be happier.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re skipping over the moon,” she sassed, elbow firmly hooked with his as if it were freezing or he might fly away. Steve felt grateful for the anchor. Robin stood almost as tall as him, making their strides through the cathedral-like lobby of the school strong and quick.

His mother’s voice echoed in the chambers of his memory. Gothic Revival. How many times it’s been revived, who can say?

Like she’d heard it too, Robin whispered, “How is she?”

“Same,” Steve clipped.

Robin nodded once, understanding, and then said at normal volume, “I’m coming over today.”

“Sure.”

She didn’t mean the penthouse. She meant his workplace. Steve had all but forgotten that he had a shift tonight. The elite of the Capitol were devoting more work hours than ever for the Reaping and Hunger Games, while regular people still had glasses to wash and food to serve. A part of him took it as a light at the end of the tunnel. The work at the old music club was hardly difficult, and the owner had been a close friend of his parents. Steve just hoped the whiplash wouldn’t damage anything in his head; he had to be Steve Harrington every day until the Games were over. Fresh as a rose.

They traversed the stairs and long hallways, more and more people loitering excitedly about as they went. Eventually Robin let go of him so he could do his chivalrous duty and letting her walk in first. When he stopped with his arm open, gesturing for her to go ahead, she scoffed, “Shut up,” which cracked a grin on his face.

Robin wasn’t a mentor, but she was working closely with one of her professors, so she would not be sitting with Steve and the others when the time came. A couple of mentors already sat in the fan of chairs around a raised dais, reading through notes on previous Games. On the wall behind the dais, a massive television screen glowed with the seal of Panem. Occasionally it faded to be replaced with various things:

10th ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES.

Welcome, Gamemakers.

Welcome, mentors.

“Where’s the food?” Steve prioritized, trying to peer around without looking like a bird.

“There’s an itinerary,” Robin said like an apology.

Steve swiveled his head to look at the screen, but the plan for the day did not flash across it. “Okay, and when’s the food?”

“I guess they don’t want us to know. Probably after a lot of talking. They won’t feed us until the guests have their asses kissed.”

They shared a smirk. With the Gamemakers around, students fell one rung lower on the ladder. There was a very slim window of allowance for rudeness today, but even Capitol teenagers wanted a buffet over a lecture.

Too many people stood around the room for their complaints to matter anyhow. The crowded buzz of noise soothed Steve’s nerves. He liked crowds. He had heard that some people reacted to a hoard of people the same way he did to an elevator, but in his mind they were nowhere near the same. Every scent that drifted by told a story, and Steve felt like a kid at his parents’ soirees again; all of his senses absorbing colors, textures, scents and sounds like a sponge. The social rules changed the more people stood together. A person could hide while being completely visible. A person could walk up and talk to anybody. It was a fun paradox, having all shields down while also being fully shrouded. The only thing missing was—

“There we go,” Steve said to nobody, eyes on the beverage table. He hadn’t seen it before because everyone else had the same idea. As he made his way through and the libation enjoyers dispersed, he took in the options. Water with green coins floating in it. Cucumbers. Fresh cucumbers. Green bottles that poured bubbly yellow and pink alcohol. Alcohol! Before eight o’clock! The day was looking up.

He preemptively celebrated, “Oh, baby, that’s what I’m talking about—”

The white fabric of gloved hands interrupted his path to the drinks. An Avox held out a glass of the cucumber water. Steve all but choked and managed an inaudible, “Thanks,” as he accepted the glass.

For a hard second, he stood with the water in his hand, feeling dumb. His brain began to swing wide, trying to find what exactly he’d done wrong and pilfering the corners of his memory for the manners his parents had ingrained in him—

A loud but lazy laugh arrived beside him and Steve looked at the balding head of…of…

“Murray Bauman,” he introduced with a lift of his glass. The size and shape of the glass told him enough, but the clear liquid swirling with Bauman’s movements left a meniscus line on the glass. Steve knew it to be a clear liquor of some kind. He poured plenty of such drinks at the club. “Sorry, kids have to behave while the adults play. I hear the water’s good, though.”

Steve rushed to get his countenance back together and took a sip. He knew of Murray Bauman but had never actually met the guy. His official role was a professor at the school, but nobody really knew what he did outside of that. Every teacher had their sabbaticals and extraneous studies, but no one dared ask what Bauman got up to. Now that Steve had a point blank view of him, he could definitely understand why Nancy kind of hated the man. Bald crown but full beard, he had a reputation for drinking in the middle of class. Whatever he did to fill his time, it gave him enough heft so nobody punished him for being the Academy’s alcoholic.

“You’re wondering if I’ve tasted water in the last ten years.”

Steve blinked. Yep, that’s exactly where his brain had gone. “Sorry, what?”

Bauman laughed again. “Well I’d have to, wouldn’t I? Can’t make this last the morning without diluting it.”

He raised his glass again and gave it an intentional swirl. Then all at once, Steve had those dark eyes behind thick spectacles boring down on him. “You’re familiar. Whose kid are you?”

Steve had his brain back into gear and held his ground. “I’ve never taken your class, sir.”

Bauman rolled his eyes patiently. “I know that. My guess is you take after both of your parents. That’s why I can’t place you. It’d be easier if you were the direct copy of just one person.”

Bauman was definitely an alcoholic. People knew who Steve’s parents are. Even with one dead and the other a recluse, they still only wanted to talk to Steve about his parents. A quiet corner of his brain grumbled, Enough of that.

“I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Steve! ” Bauman sighed with a bizarre amount of recognition, even fondness. Steve didn’t have time to figure that out because without warning, he crooned, “And Miss Wheeler. How apropos.”

That last part didn’t sound like a compliment. It sounded teasing and belittling in the way like Bauman knew something Steve didn’t. Steve knew the feeling; growing up, classmates loved holding things above him because he took a little longer to understand stuff. He gratefully looked to Nancy Wheeler for a clue on how to escape this guy.

“Murray,” she returned curtly, and…that’s all it took. Steve gazed in wonder between them as Murray sipped his drink, silently observing them while Nancy took Steve’s arm to guide him elsewhere.

He also realized that Robin had never left him, and stood with her own glass of water when Nancy found them a space by a wall. He asked her, “Have you taken his class?”

“No, but he came into one of my language classes a lot. I got the impression he’s more comfortable in another language.”

“He’s a nightmare,” Nancy intercepted. “He might actually be productive to society if he stopped drinking.”

Steve had known Nancy long enough to know this was praise and lifted his brows. “He’s smart, huh?”

Nancy sighed, deflating a little but not so much as to relax. Steve felt an old, worn out and unplayable string twang inside of himself. The emotion was fondness. Nancy was too pretty to be this high strung, but she cared so much and he couldn’t fault her that. “He’s a genius. He might actually be the smartest person at the Academy.”

That’s why Steve hadn’t met him before. He sipped his water, willing any thought of his grades away. The things granting him a seat in this room were his father’s last name and his own athletic prowess. But before he could ask what the man actually taught, she pointed out, “Chief Hopper is here.”

Chief…Hopper? Steve followed slowly. He and Robin found the direction she indicated and sure enough, the Head Peacekeeper of the Capitol stood looking like the unhappiest person in the room. Perhaps the whole city. A big man, Jim Hopper ran a palm over his neatly combed hair and followed it with a brush of his mustache. Someone was talking to him but the man’s wandering eyes and random nods indicated he might not be listening.

Robin voiced for all of them, “Why is there a cop here?”

Nancy sighed, “They have to keep everyone bought and paid for.”

“Nance,” Steve warned quietly.

Robin agreed, “He’s halfway dressed for work…but what’s the worst a bunch of Academy kids are gonna do? Shouldn’t he be watching the streets for drunk drivers?”

Steve’s brows stitched a little bit. Halfway dressed for work was a good way of describing how he looked: steel toed boots under Peacekeeper uniform pants. Instead of the uniform jacket, he covered his textile armor with a nice blazer. No gloves, just clean and manicured hands. He looked like a soldier slightly gilded for the swanky breakfast.

If we ever get to breakfast. Steve’s stomach had begun the steady, pinched cramp of hunger. The shrinking feeling that would make finally eating less of a victory because his stomach had shrunken too much to actually eat his fill.

“Maybe they think the Capitol citizens will grow a spine this year,” Nancy said.

Both Steve and Robin shifted restlessly, the former inhaling through his nose in a jaded manner. “You know, you don’t have to remind everyone all the time that you’re from District 3.”

Steve knew he’d messed up before he was even through with the sentence. The way Nancy’s lips parted, before they puckered in steeled resolve. Once upon a time, he’d pinch her chin softly and try to say something soothing and funny to that expression. That time was long gone.

“Yes, I do. Because someone has to remind all of you that you’re not superior. We eat the same food and you bleed red just like me.”

“Nance,” he tried to say, but she strode away. He’d just apologize to her later. Or not. He wasn’t her boyfriend anymore, plus he never seemed capable of reaping the benefits apologizing was supposed to give.

By Capitol standards, the Wheelers were top of the line: money and brains. That had been Nancy and Steve’s issue. He was too Capitol and she too District. She was too rich and he was too poor, though he never revealed that to her. He’d wanted to. Wanted to have help with his mother, someone else to talk to her, someone else to fill the void silence of the empty home.

Nancy’s father had made such a fortune in District 3 that he moved his family to the Capitol, thereby safeguarding his children from being reaped for the Games. Therein lay the issue. Nancy loathed the Hunger Games. Plenty of people did. Nobody in their right minds actually liked the notion of children dying, much less putting them in an arena to kill each other. But Nancy spoke too loudly about these things.

Steve’s eyes involuntarily found one of the Avoxes standing by the wall, eyes watching the goings-on in a manner that some would consider servile. To Steve, the person looked barely awake, lashes hanging too low. Like they were only half alive.

Music ripped him from his reverie, and he met Robin’s gaze. As the instrumental melody of Panem’s anthem played over the room, they understood it was her time to go be a professor’s protégée, and he to be a mentor. Steve felt the tri-colored amber bracelet Robin wore against the back of his hand when she bumped their wrists together. He understood, See you later.

Steve took a seat and kicked his bag under the chair after he unpacked a notebook and pencil that he’d sharpened with a box cutter at home. Dustin got free pencils at school and for all of his extra curricular nerd activities. The box cutter was from work. A lot of boxes of liquor to open.

The room fell into silence as the guests of the Academy took their places. Namely, a man with white and gray hair and a suit to match. He did not have a podium, but he did have a tall, skinny microphone to introduce himself with.

“Good morning. My name is Dr. Martin Brenner. It is my honor to welcome all of you to the Tenth Hunger Games, and more importantly, to our first and very special collaborative effort. The Games may be our way of remembering the past, but this year we are embracing the future. As a former teacher at this very school, I know how invaluable it is to one’s passion and study, the insight and rejuvenation of young minds. We learn from you just as much as you learn from us. And as Head Gamemaker, I am excited to guide the next generation into our traditions and to watch these young birds fly.”

Steve almost clapped with the rest of the room. Nancy’s rigid shoulders sitting diagonally in front of him made him pause to watch how she crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, defiant. He couldn’t help but wonder why the hell she even agreed to be in the mentor program with this being how she felt about it. Then again, Steve had no real love for the Games either. If anything, it was far more like Nancy to want the gold star on her university applications. Steve needed the tuition money prize for winning.

“Without further ado, I’d like to introduce this year’s mentors. Students, when I say your name, please remain standing. We will follow your lead into the room to my right for more substantial refreshments before we come back here for the Reaping ceremony.”

Food. Steve fixed his posture.

Twenty-four students. Two for each district. Not unlike the tributes themselves, each district would have a boy and a girl mentoring it, but that would not mean that the mentor and tributes’ sexes had to match. And just like the competitors, that did not mean that mentors had to team up. They had the choice to strategize together, or to keep their lips sealed.

There ought to have been twenty-six mentors and tributes, but that was another story. Specifically, the story of District 13. The place got blown sky high right at the start of the war, and with it, the river that fed the Harringtons’ bank accounts. At the start of his and Nancy’s relationship, she had pointed out how his family must have hated the Capitol for making such a decision. A decision that failed. The idea was to scare the country into immediate submission. Cut down a tree before lightning strikes so the whole forest doesn’t burn. As if humanity could control the sky. Instead, the forest did burn. The districts fought back, and fought hard. The Capitol almost lost. In so many ways, the Harringtons truly did.

Steve hadn’t known what to say to Nancy. He’d managed to put together a silly, flirtatious and self-deprecating remark, “Only if you can’t stand to date a loser like me.”

Nancy had smiled like the stars. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

“Steve Harrington,” Dr. Brenner announced.

He blinked, jarring awake but rising smoothly to his feet. No one clapped for the students; the simple introduction was meant to be an honor, but fast. They had to fill the time until the two o’clock Reaping, after all, and the best way to keep people docile and happy was to get them to food as quickly as possible.

Still, Steve felt eyes on him. Like following the origins of a sound, he peeked in an intuited direction, which in this case was diagonally to his right. Tucked behind the dais, he felt his lungs freeze in his chest. Chief Jim Hopper stood against the wall with Murray Bauman, both of them looking at him despite another student’s name being called. Hopper’s bright blue eyes were expressive but…Steve didn’t understand them. The ghost of his father and how Steve had a hard time knowing whether Robert Harrington was angry or sad or both passed through his body, inciting him to flick his gaze elsewhere.

But not before he absorbed the closed-lipped smile behind Murray’s beard. Steve didn’t like that one bit.

[peggycarterisacat]

Thanks for the ask, I love the pre-rebellion era 😊 I tried to pull as much from the books as I could, but since there's so little info I had to fill in the blanks a little, and a big part of the characterization in faith was because I really wanted Jaime to have more positive, quasi-familial figures in his life. (Some of the little details were based on people in my own life, but I'm not gonna focus on that here.)

I've written about this before, but I'm certain that there was some secret plotting going on within the kingsguard, namely that Rhaegar had a plan in place to overthrow Aerys. The reason it looks like they weren't doing anything is because none of our POV characters knew about it. The Kingsguard couldn't let themselves appear disloyal to Aerys or risk revealing the entire plan.

Barristan and Jaime had no idea this was happening — Barristan was loyal to his vows, and there are all kinds of reasons Jaime would be left out. He was like seventeen, he joined the kingsguard when the plans were already in motion, and they couldn't be certain where his true loyalties were. And, not that Jaime was incapable, but his appointment to the kingsguard was more of a fuck you to Tywin than anything else.

In light of all that, I think that the other kingsguard (at least partly) intended to protect Jaime by telling him to obey Aerys's orders. They knew there were plans in place to remove Aerys, they didn't expect the Rebellion to escalate the way it did, they definitely didn't expect Aerys to attempt to blow up all of King's Landing, and they didn't want Jaime to get himself killed in the meantime.

Here's (most of) what we know about them:

Gerold Hightower: Lord Commander of the Kingsguard — he would have been on Aerys's Small Council. He initiated Jaime into the Kingsguard, and then when Aerys ordered Jaime to leave the Harrenhal tourney, Hightower offered to go instead. This is admittedly a small example, but I think this shows both that he was fond of Jaime and that he wasn't unthinkingly following orders.

Hightower was also at the Tower of Joy at the end of the rebellion, which would indicate his loyalty to Rhaegar rather than Aerys. Yet, after Rickard and Brandon were killed, Hightower told Jaime "you swore a vow to guard the King, not to judge him." I have a couple of conclusions from that — 1) Hightower might have been more comfortable disagreeing with Aerys privately (e.g. in the small council) but not so much publicly (because of his collaboration with Rhaegar or otherwise) and 2) he was trying to protect Jaime because Jaime wasn't being at all subtle about how he really felt.

Barristan Selmy: Both Barristan and Jaime have a particular interest in the White Book, so that's where I started. He also romanticizes the hell out of knighthood and his vows (very like young Jaime).

Barristan's view of Ashara aligns with the idea of courtly/chivalric love — he never expected anything from her romantically or sexually, but he's definitely putting her on a pedestal. His view of her is romanticized in line with his own values, rather than who she was (he maintains that she was "dishonored" at Harrenhal, ignoring her own agency, when no one else thinks that Brandon/Ned/whoever took advantage of her). And he's still focused on being worthy of her — he never approached her and would not have done so unless he could crown her queen of love and beauty. Her memory haunts him even years later, and he dwells on what might have happened if only he'd been a better knight.

Lewyn Martell: I don't think he was actually in on Rhaegar's plans, but at a minimum Lewyn was loyal to Elia and the Martells above Aerys.

Jaime's POV and A World of Ice and Fire both note that Elia and the kids were Aerys's hostages during the Rebellion, to ensure Dorne's cooperation after the loss on the Trident. However, Jaime ALSO notes that Aerys had to threaten Elia before Ser Lewyn left to lead the Dornish army to the Trident in the first place.

Then there's also his paramour — I don't think their gender is specified in the books? (I wrote them as a woman because I was trying to draw a parallel to Oberyn and Ellaria, but axed it because it didn't flow)

(I have a very self-indulgent AU in my head where Ser Lewyn breaks Elia and the kids out of KL and then marches the army right back to Dorne to wait out the rebellion.)

Jonothor Darry: The only description we have of him is "earnest." He was the one who told Jaime that yes they are sworn to protect Rhaella too, but not from Aerys. He also reacted strongly when Jaime asked to be sent to the Trident instead of him. "Then guard the king," Ser Jon Darry snapped at him. "When you donned that cloak, you promised to obey."

Idk. To me that seems a little too angry to be in line with "earnest." Maybe it was the stress? But there really wasn't much point in reprimanding Jaime like that, because there was absolutely no way he'd be allowed to leave King's Landing at that point in the war. So I chose to interpret that as protective but unable to express in a healthy way.

(also I wanted someone in the fic to be ace, and I envisioned Ser Jon very seriously explaining this to Jaime and Jaime just wanting to DIE of embarrassment)

Oswell Whent: Whent was a part of Rhaegar's inner circle from the beginning — not only was he at the Tower of Joy, he also played a crucial part in Rhaegar's original plans (aka setting up the Harrenhal tourney as a cover for a Great Council to discuss removing Aerys). Also had a dark sense of humor.

(I struggled with Whent the most — ended up spinning this as a willingness to bend the rules a little.)

Arthur Dayne: where to start? Characterization-wise, I lean on the way Arthur dealt with the Kingswood Brotherhood — patient and empathetic to the needs of people whose lives were completely different his own experiences. Also able to convince Aerys to grant rights to a group of smallfolk who were actively rebelling against him. (Also great at dramatic one-liners, but I'm not good at writing that kind of dialogue.)

Then there's Jaime's knighting which was like. Alone at dawn in a secluded countryside sept, Arthur says "blood is the seal of our devotion" and then cuts Jaime. Any implications from that seem to have gone completely over Jaime's head, because of course. This is one of the reasons I don't think Arthur was very straightforward or direct when dealing with his personal life.