#Guinevere Appreciation Time

[doomspaniels]

Was there something you needed, or...?

[bumblesimagines]

i bet your neighbors hate us.

you're wearing my shirt.

Guinevere Beck

you're wearing my shirt.

i bet your neighbors hate us.

Pronouns: They/Them/Their, GN!Reader

The dream of a nice vacation on a warm, sunny beach in a new country waiting to be explored shattered abruptly at the agonizing sound of your alarm blaring in your ear over and over again until you lazily pawed at your phone and somehow managed to silence it. You sighed heavily into your pillow and contemplated sleeping for a few more minutes that would surely turn into a few more hours, but you doubted your friends would appreciate you ditching them for sweet, out-of-reach dreams. 

Lifting your head from the pillow and rubbing a hand over your face, your eyes cracked open when the smell of food slipped into the room. You lived alone and the only people who had copies of your apartment key either couldn't cook or weren't nice enough to. You rolled off your stomach and sat up to give your bedroom a quick scan. 

You first noticed the clothes you'd worn the night before scattered around the floor haphazardly as if they'd been aggressively thrown around. The unfamiliar jeans and shirt stood out to you next, also on the floor alongside a pair of beige sandals and a vibrant red jacket that looked vaguely familiar to the one your sister's friend wore often. The bottle-blonde with pretty eyes and naive enough to believe your sister's other friend vaguely gave a shit about her otherwise known as the lit student your sister had taken under her protective wing.

...Shit. 

Peach would have your head served on a silver platter or worse if she were ever to find out. She'd never been the most rational or level-headed, no matter how hard she tried to come off as put-together, and she'd become rather obsessive over... Bella? Beatrice? Your foggy mind refused to remind you of the aspiring writer's name but it happily reminded you of that time Peach had pulled you aside at a party to borderline threaten you into keeping a friendly distance from Beck because she 'already had one asshole in her life and didn't need another'. You could only pray Brooklyn? kept her lips sealed about the whole ordeal. 

The door creaked open and the blonde poked her head, a smile breaking out on her soft features. "Hey, you're awake! I heard your alarm go off." She laughed airily, and somewhat nervously, before fully stepping into the room and tugging lightly at the shirt that almost covered her bare thighs. 

"You're wearing my shirt." You mumbled in a still drowsy tone. Besty (you were fairly certain her name started with a B) nodded, her cheeks flushing a light pink as she glanced down at the shirt and smoothed it out with the palm of her hands. For a girl you knew too much about- other than her goddamn name- due to your sister's inability to not complain about those close to her, she seemed awfully shy. She'd had her fair share of encounters from what you'd heard and you doubted you'd be the last one-night-stand. 

"I hope you don't mind. It was the first thing I saw when I got up and I didn't want to walk around shirtless." She chuckled and her eyes flickered up to meet yours, her smile turning mischievous. "Unless that's what you're into." Ah, there she was. The Bianca you knew from the countless parties you'd seen her in. Cheeky, sweet, and an overall hot mess that attracted trouble. 

You released a huff of amusement and pushed the covers off to get out of bed and slip on the first pair of pants you got your hands on. "You making something?" You asked, pulling out a shirt from your drawer. 

"Well, I planned on doing sunny-side-up eggs but I always end up burning them so I settled on scrambled instead," Berdie responded with a light shrug, her fingertips raising to toy with the silver necklace around her neck. Her cool and flirty demeanor faltered when you moved closer to her but she quickly covered it up by cupping your face and pressing her lips to yours. Her arms wrapped snugly around your shoulders and she let out a flustered giggle against your lips. 

But the moment felt too intimate, too close and domestic for your liking. With a family like yours, it was best to keep everyone else at arm's length. The Salingers destroyed whatever and whoever got too close, the things around them wilting and rotting at just the lightest touch. People were often ruined beyond salvage over the smallest of things. You'd lost count of how many careers and lives had been ruined by your family over a bruised ego or the slightest hint of rejection. 

Almost as if sensing your hesitance, Brianna pulled back and cleared her throat, tucking a strand of hair behind her reddened ear. "I bet your neighbors hate us. We were... pretty loud."

"The Daltons are too busy traveling Europe and ignoring their kids to care." You reassured her lightly, combing your fingers through her soft, frizzy hair. "I think we should probably talk about this... Guinevere." 

"How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Beck? Guinevere is... a lot." Beck. Close enough. "But, yeah, we should talk."

[madou-dilou]

Harrow and Viren : analysis

Viren, since he resurrected in season 4, is constantly paralleled with Harrow.

"It's been a long time. Our kingdom is prospering. There is peace. My boys, they are growing up. Perhaps it's wiser to stay focused on these blessings."

"My whole life, I have been chasing after things I did not have. Now that I'm here and may have only thirty days left, do I really want to spent those days ... chasing ? Maybe I should stop and appreciate what I do have. A whole month, enjoying every moment with my daughter. Maybe it's time for me to accept that I am who I am. And when I reach the end, I'll be at peace. And it will just be the time to let me go."

Both reevaluate their lives, questioning the crimes they left in their wake. They feel like they have escaped justice. Their loved ones do their best, encourage them to continue living, of course, but they have come to the conclusion that if their life has left such a trail of blood, prolonging it will only spread more.

That at this point, the only right thing they could do for the world was leaving it.

For said loved ones, this attitude makes no sense and feels straight-up ungrateful. ("You are acting stubborn and ungrateful!"/"Please, dad, don't. Don't do this. Don't leave. It's a mistake. You can't. I saved you! You me your life! You have to stay...")

Especially since Harrow and Viren are both incapable of explaining themselves clearly. Viren straight-up tells Harrow he doesnt understand where he is coming from, and Harrow only answers "I know you don't. Leave me." Viren, meanwhile, talks about "a path of truth of freedom" that he needs to face.

In short, to quote Kaamelott's queen Guinevere "You slit your wrists in a bath I had myself prepared just for you."

Two kings caught in blood feuds, pushed by the devils on their shoulders to prolong an existence they no longer want, even at the cost of two being supposed to be sacrifices: a soldier, who signed for that (unlike the High Mage, side-eye Harrow), and this homunculus.

Both thus renounce dark magic by, as Harrow says, "calling it what it is" for the first time; and no longer “a creative solution to solve this” as Viren used to say.

And just as Harrow wrote a letter to his son Callum to free him from the wrongs of the previous generation, Viren attempts to do the same.

To Callum, Harrow tried to explain that the past, which we must nevertheless seek to understand, should not define the future; that his death must close the cycle of revenge that he initiated with the assassination of the Titan and for which he takes full responsibility; and that his sons must ensure a new era of peace. As he prepares to face death, he also makes sure his last conversation with Ezran is completely mundane, so the boy does not grow up thinking he abandonned him.

However, Harrow did not think to officially appoint a regent (Viren, Amaya or Opeli), which forces poor Ezran to assume a horrible role for which, at eight years old, he is obviously absolutely not prepared.

Which obviously puts the kingdom in a dangerous situation.

In his letter to Soren, Viren is very literal. He wants Soren to judge him, but for him to have all the necessary elements to do so; he wants Soren to understands why he made all these mistakes. Viren tells Soren that all the suffering he felt was never his fault, but his own.

It was Viren and Viren alone who chose to become a monster by violating Kppar then Lissa, thus causing her departure, then making Soren pay for it throughout his childhood.

The letter was intended to free Soren of all guilt. Because, when you get given the cold shoulder by your father throughout your whole childhood, you believe it has to be your fault. All divorce children think it's their fault.

The problem is, reading the truth might as well make Soren feel worse. Because this letter confirms that it was to save him that Viren destroyed the family, even if it was a choice that Viren made. According to Puzzle House, Soren remembers that he was sick, that his grandfather disappeared, that his father saved him, and that his mother left, but he could never connect the dots between all these events.

This letter means that the simple fact that Soren was alive was indeed the first crack that eventually caused the whole house to collapse.

Viren therefore chose to burn the letter, hoping to spare his son such a burden.

Both Viren's and Harrow's deaths have something of a suicide to them, and not just in the letters they leave behind.

Remember my post comparing their actions to the quote from the Kaamelott show ? "What is someone who suffers and spills his blood on the floor so that everyone is guilty? All suicides are Christ. All bathtubs are the Grail."

In short, I was trying to explain how their masochism made others suffer.

Harrow claims to consider himself a servant, and he certainly means it. He is humble, is aware monarchy is an unfair system and has a great sense of honor, not hesitating to defy certain traditions - by sharing his official portrait with Viren - and to put his own life at stake. But when, for example, he finds nothing better to do than deprive his people of food simply to honor a promise, his claims sound particularly hollow. He is out-of-touch enough not to know the state his kingdom is in, so he will certainly not have to see his own family starve. But he set out to restore some justice to the world, however stupid this justice is. He seems to consider that by sacrificing the kingdom, he is sacrificing himself. And during his heroic death, that by sacrificing himself, he will save the kingdom instead of plunging it into chaos.

Viren, most probably partly because of his social origins that he keeps getting reminded of (and a fun childhood too, the guy insults himself in front of the mirror until he breaks down crying and constantly devalues his son) is haunted by an inferiority complex. To be useless. He has a morbid need for gratitude. Hoping to matter, to serve a purpose, he spent years self-destructing through dark magic, constantly putting himself in danger, ruining his health, wiping behind the king's decisions, or letting Aaravos exploit his body in increasingly abject ways. In short, to see himself only as a means to an end.

This feeling of ungratefulness is not unfounded: not only is the king actually incompetent enough not to have the slightest idea of ​​the state of his kingdom's resources, but in addition, where any swordsman would display with pride the scars of his craft, Viren is forced to hide his swollen face - it is even part of the reason why his wife left him.

The problem is that his own self-sacrificing tendancies made him think he had the right to exploit others: his wife, Sarai, Harrow, the princes, Soren, and a few thousand others, and I'm probably forgetting some.

That since sacrificing others was difficult for him, it made him the hero.

Viren probably suffers from a huge martyr syndrome: being able to exist only through the gratitude of others, he begins to take charge of all their problems, even unsollicited, and even if it means creating others in the process. It doesnt make him evil. It's an unconcious strategy to simply survive.

Since he is competent, no-nonesense, pragmatic and literally magical, he ends up making himself absolutely indispensable. No one but him could save two kingdoms from famine. Even more so, Sarai, Harrow's wife, sacrificed herself to save him because he was a mage. This survivor's guilt may have made this problem worse.

His mentality, which he summed up as "get a grip" to a traumatized Terry, also likely played a role in the deterioration of his relationship with Harrow. After Sarai's death, Viren probably felt that he ought to be the immovable and unshakable pillar on which Harrow should be able to rely. That if he ever showed the slightest doubt, the slightest weakness, Harrow, and with him, the kingdom, would collapse. Whereas if Viren had been less constipated, Harrow would undoubtedly have felt less lonely, and would have been less likely to take his own life as he did.

Viren is the brain of the heart. He provides a safeguard to Harrow, whose sense of justice blinds him. Harrow has, after all, indeed chosen the Blindfold in his dream, to push him to imagine a system aimed at protecting everyone equally. An ideal, unrealistic and inconsiderate. Viren is the Scales, in my opinion: he compares the costs of his actions to the positive consequences that will result from them. He is a result-oriented person, measuring his self-worth by his productivity.

Now, it's time for me to talk about the Drama Triangle, theorized by psychiatrist Stephen Karpman in his article Fairy Tales and script drama analysis.

Karpmann first applies this schema to fairy tales: for example, the Piper of Hamelin saves the villagers, victims of the rats who persecute them; but instead of thanking him, the villagers throw stones at him and banish him without paying their dues; which pushes the Piper to take revenge, becoming a persecutor, by making all the children of the village disappear.

But this Triangle, as Karpman explains, is also an unconscious psychological game, a relational pattern between victim, persecutor and savior that cannot be applied to an emergency situation. It is not necessary for all three instances of the triangle to be present, but it is often enough for one person to play the game for the others to get involved. Stephen Karpman adds that the more roles are reversed in a single scene, the more intense it is in emotion and conflict.

The victim is isolated, passive and unable to make decisions to resolve their problems. The persecutor belittles them, minimizes their suffering and mocks them in the hope of making them react. The savior defends them, feels obliged to solve the victim's problems for him even unsollicited, which is very gratifying for them but maintains the victim in a state of dependence.

None of these roles are positive because they create unbalanced relationships.

The problem, you can see it coming, is that over the years, Harrow has become completely dependent on Viren to put his grand ideas into practice, and therefore on the "necessary" crimes that Viren lined up like pearls on a necklace. It's not just dirty, it's also infantilising. Viren constantly acts as a savior, which places Harrow in a victim role, unaccustomed to questioning Viren's decisions even when he is wrong.

Harrow couldn't take it anymore.

He became so fed up with his own dependence on Viren that he concluded the only way to get rid of him was to die.

Harrow could have hidden with the princes, or fired his entire guard and faced the consequences of his actions alone, but he just seized the opportunity to sell his skin dearly and die a hero.

I would even go so far as to say that for Harrow, his own death served three purposes:

Reunite with Sarai without whom his life no longer has meaning

Finally receive his rightful punishment and put an end to his own feelings of guilt

Make Viren finally feel guilty about something, even if it was his suicide. He wants him to see his blood spilled on the floor.

In short, to finally regain control by placing Viren in the role of victim, while becoming the persecutor.

"I have tolerated your arrogance for to long. But if this is my last day as king, I will make sure you will know your place."

Viren, throughout seasons 1 and 2, paying for Harrow's mistakes as he always did, tried to position himself as the savior of the human kingdoms, that were then facing a crisis situation: as a result, he is rejected at every turn, completely isolated, sentenced to death for treason and completely unable to resolve his problems. In short, a victim.

And who is it that "saves" him ?

Aaravos, by presenting himself as Viren's "servant", flatters his ego and points out persecutors to blame. However, Viren is not a fool: he is aware of being manipulated. He knows that Aaravos is deliberately withholding a lot of information from him. But he throws himself into it of his own free will. He's more stressed than everyone else as well as grieving, he back to the wall and isn't thinking like the rest of the world: as far as he is concerned, he has only made a series of unavoidable decisions, which had doors and doors shutting in his face over and over, plunging him further and further into sheer darkness.

Until he has "nothing left to lose". Until the man who he has chained to a wall is freer than him. Until the knife eventually becomes the border between two worlds, separating him from the only source of light, pale, artificial, unforgiving, coming from "worse than death": Aaravos.

Yeah, it's clearly suicide-coded.

Viren (believing he was doing the right thing) got the worst out of Harrow, just as Aaravos (wanting to cause chaos for fun) got the worst out of Viren.

And just like Harrow, the only way Viren had to get rid of the devil on his shoulder was to die.

And as for Viren's third death in the sixth season, heroic if ever there was one (on the very balcony where he looked at his wrist in season 2), it is also no coincidence that he repeats Harrow's last words to him, told to humiliate him : "I am a servant."

This term carries an ambivalence: the nobility of abnegation and the humiliation of submission.

Although Harrow saw himself as a servant of the kingdom and promoted equality in his reforms and symbols, he eventually grew tired of it. He does sacrifice his own life to end the cycle of revenge, but since he does not take the trouble to prepare for his succession, even if only by ensuring that the princes are safe, the result is a total disaster. He also devotes the last minutes of his existence to being completely unjustified cruelty towards Viren. His death was a way for him to finally regain control.

Viren, hurt that Harrow lowered him to the ground by mistaking his self-sacrifice for arrogance and once again leaving him to pay the price for his decisions, has made this term the justification for his crimes... confusing, in his good intentions, “serving the people” for “using the people”.

Viren was completely willing to sacrifice himself to save Harrow in Season 1, but Harrow, determined to regain control, didn't even listen to him; and Viren immediately recanted when Harrow refused to recognize him as an equal. Although it could not have been more sincere, the sacrifice of his own life was then rejected by the plot because it was done without humility.

(or maybe Harrow immediately understood what Viren was going to do and scolded him to dissuade him)

Viren was then reduced to his greatest weakness : his existential need for gratitude.

And more than ever, he was the only one with common sense in the room, on top of being belittled for his absence of royal blood. He still thinks he knows better than everyone else, just as he always actually did. Anyone who crosses his vision ought to be killed. No matter how much he has to harm others and himself (burning his own eyes, committing high treason and sentencing himself to death, giving in body and soul to "worse than death", letting Aaravos manipulate his body in absolutely gross ways, risking being burned at the stake) in the process. Aaravos sees straight through, exploits this, because it's what dark magic is: it's dehumanising yourself as well as others; seeing no longer people but components and obstacles. Viren harms himself to be seen as a hero, not a servant. He needs gratitude, admiration. To be seen as above. A servant is beneath, only ever doing what he is told.

But today, Viren, haunted by the vision of Harrow's blood on the floor, chooses to sacrifice himself, thus saving the population of Katolis in the face of dragon fire, to sacrifice himself alone and no one else, reviled, hated, and misunderstood. The official portrait of him and Harrow, symbolizing his noble deeds and the good they were able to do together, burned in the castle fire.

He dies not in court clothes but in rags, not as an official hero showered with praise, but as a traitor. Soren will never know what he did for him as a child, Viren doesn't want his death to haunt him.

Even though he dies as the Lord Protector of the Realm Ezran could not be, in the eyes of history, Viren will remain the traitor. The Evil Chancellor, Jafar, Richard III, Iago, Scar.

No one will see his blood as he spills it on the floor of Harrow's room.

Servants of the realm indeed.

[aetherdecember]

Look, I love BBC Merlin and how they told the lore, but I’m a sucker for the relationship between Arthur and Mordred in the mythology. Specifically, I love how Mary Stewart (author of The Arthurian Saga**) and Nancy Springer (author of I Am Mordred**) wrote about the father/son relationship between them. So naturally, my brain has been conjuring up how I can include that in my Flipping the Coin au.

Since the main premise is Merlin died/Arthur lives, and now Arthur is the one waiting for Merlin to come back, things would stay consistent with canon up to the last episode (when Merlin flips the coin of their destiny and sacrifices himself so Arthur can live and thus stop Camlann from happening altogether). Which is where this idea will start:

Gwen is barren. She and Arthur never have kids. Eventually, everyone Arthur knows and loves dies. He can’t rule Camelot forever, and after Gwen’s death, he no longer wants to, so he fakes his death and wanders off figure out why he’s still here. He never gets an answer for that. Arthur spends the next millennium waiting. He keeps living. He meets people, experiences things he’d never experienced before, and learns things he’d never dreamed of learning. He can’t stay anywhere long, or else suspicions will rise, but he gets to see the world change, how technology advances, and witness humans continuing to be humans. When war breaks out, he joins the battle. It’s familiar. The rush of adrenaline is the same whether he’s wielding a sword or a gun. Only, he can’t see the enemy’s face anymore.

Peace comes again. At some point, he sleeps with a woman, and she happens to become pregnant. Bisexual disaster that he is, he’s had all sorts of partners from both sexes, but has never had this happen, even before the advent of reliable birth control. Later, he’ll learn her name is Morgause. She doesn’t look like the Morgause he knew before, nor does she act like her, but her name haunts him. After the baby is born, she gives him to Arthur, says she has no intentions of being a mother, and leaves. The last thing she had said to him was the baby’s name.

Mordred.

That night, Arthur holds Mordred and weeps.

There is irony in his son being named Mordred. First, in that the legends surrounding him, Merlin, Camelot, the Knights of the Round Table, and all of it, had long ago decided Mordred was his son. And two, in a retelling of that legend, it had aptly phrased what he sensed was happening now. Granted, he isn’t a sorcerer, he doesn’t have magic, so he can’t support his feeling with anything other than he’d been around a long time and knew to his very core that it was true. Mordred’s birth is a signal of the beginning of the end.

Fatherhood brings him a new sense of purpose. Gone are the days of loneliness and drudgery. Every day with Mordred brings a new light into his life. Each smile is a miracle. Seeing Mordred experience things for the first time brings a new appreciation. Being there to watch him grow makes time fly like it never has before. But Arthur is afraid. He doesn’t want to be his father. He doesn’t know how to be a father, or what the right way to do it is. In all the years he’s been on the Earth, he’s never known a man who could concretely say, “This is the way to raise a son,” and actually reap the fruits of their efforts. Too frequently, he’d seen sons grow outside of the visions their fathers molded for them and receive only disappointment and disdain in return. So he was afraid, because he too had been that son.

*cue a series of fluffy father/son one shots of Arthur raising Mordred until Merlin comes back, takes one look, and is is like WTF????? No, I won’t have Mordred for a step son >:(*

**Mary Stewart and Nancy Springer have several other works, not just the stories I mentioned. The ones mentioned are the ones I’m pulling inspiration from ^^

Additional notes below the break:

Guinevere’s barrenness is not a headcanon I typically subscribe to for BBC Merlin. My headcanon is that after Arthur’s death, Gwen gives birth, and their child eventually succeeds her as ruler.

I’ve always seen Mordred’s appearance as the harbinger of Arthur’s downfall. Thus, the reason for the plot bunnies in my brain going crazy with this idea of how I could bring him in, still remain mostly canon compliant with BBC Merlin, and build off some of my favorite parts of the lore. (Mandatory disclaimer: for BBC Merlin, I don’t headcanon Mordred as Arthur’s son. But for the mythology, I do wholeheartedly support that canon.)

Arthur’s choice to participate and live once Camelot is gone is a decision to contrast my headcanon of how Merlin handled it. I don’t think Merlin thrived. I think he stayed busy, and tried to remain hopeful, but I think he was anxiously consumed with the anticipation of wondering when Arthur would come back. In this au, Arthur may or may not know that Merlin is supposed to come back (I’m still working on that detail), but he’s always been around others. I think he would seek camaraderie, and companionship, and that he would connect with others but only to a superficial level. I don’t think he’d exist in a void of loneliness. Plus, he doesn’t have the guilt of knowing he failed because the pressure from the prophecy is very one sided *coughcough*causemerlinnevertoldhim*coughcough*

Anyways, that’s enough rambling from me about this. I’ll probably share some snippets of writing next because there are some fantastic scenes coming together in the draft so stay tuned! ;D

[queer-ragnelle]

Camelot (2011) | Created by Michael Hirst & Chris Chibnall

Arthurian Film List | Arthurian Show List | Movie review below the cut ⤦

Star Rating: 10/10

Content Warning: graphic nudity & sexuality, heavy gore, torture, rape

Overview: Full disclosure, I'm hella biased. I watched this every week while it aired back in 2011. But having re-watched the series again numerous times since then, I stand by my love for it. If there was anything I would add, it would be dogs. Where are the puppies?! The costume designer for this show went on to win awards for her work on The Tudors, all the acting is prenominal, the set designs, the score and sound design, the writing is just insanely good. Even when I don't agree with all narrative choices, I'm convinced to appreciate them here. Eva Green is by far my favorite Morgan and James Purefoy my favorite Lot. I wasn't born queer, their intense sex scenes with blood oaths and body hair queerified me. Who said that. Anyway the biggest thing to praise about this show is how abundantly and well it centers women's stories. Igraine, Guinevere, Morgan, Vivian, Sebile, Bridget. You're all really amazing. I support women's rights and women's wrongs.

Synopsis: Morgan returns from her many years at the nunnery and is immediately rejected by Uther and her step mother Igraine. She vows vengeance and returns to the castle later in the guise of a child to secretly poison the king. As Uther lays dying, Merlin gets him to sign over his kingship to the son he never met. The show then transitions to Arthur, who has been raised along side foster-brother Kay by their loving parents in ignorance they are not fully brothers. Merlin shows up and spills the beans, taking Arthur and Kay with him to Camelot, an old crumbling castle they need to rebuild as the center of a great city. There, Uther's old knights, including Lancelot Leontes and his fiancée Guinevere, wait for them. Meanwhile Morgan turns castle Pendragon inside out to remake it for her own liking, including bringing on Vivian as her messenger and handmaiden, and Sebile the nun as her advisor. She also allies herself with King Lot intending to claim the throne of Britain for herself. Morgan and Arthur must battle for the right to take their father King Uther's place.

Final Thoughts: This show really has it all. It's a tragedy it was cancelled after a single season. There was so much set up that will never get pay off. I cry every day. The homoeroticism between Kay and Gawain going unfulfilled haunts me. Read Exiled From Camelot by Cherith Baldry to get your fix but damn I'm so sad we didn't see more of them in a second season. HUGE SPOILERS FOR THE ENDING but it set up that Guinevere was pregnant with Galahad and would take the bloody seat of the Round Table where Leontes was meant to sit, meanwhile Morgan was pregnant with Mordred in a last bid for power after she was finally revealed to Arthur as a threat. GO WATCH!!!!!!!

[marmotish]

I’m remembering that pic with Freyja emerging from a lake with Excalibur and now I’m headcanoning that she probably accidentally apparated in the lake during one of her unwanted time/dimension shifts, and just grabbed the sword bc she has no idea what dangers await on the surface as she swims up.

Cue her being confused by the group of young men worshipping her as the Lady of the Lake—? Wait why are they taking her sword? She found it first. Huh. Merlin looks nothing like his immortalized painted depictions. Guys. Really. She isn’t the Lady of the— aaaaaaand Lancelot looks like an older Francis. Well, rats. Now she’s feels obligated to stay, at least long enough to convince her adopted son Francelot—er, Lancis—*ahem* that swooning after married queens is the worst thing he could do in his spare time and make sure he behaves. In fact, does he have to be a knight? Surely he could put his skills into something safer, like bakery or farming? Sure, it’s not glorious, but it’s fine work that brings an honest wage that people appreciate more than knights chasing after dragons and the like. Knights are totally contributing to collateral damages to crops, anyway, with their “heroic quests.”

Bonus: she actually is related to The Lady of the Lake, or she’s related to Mordred/Morgana. She is not pleased in either of these options.

I’ve officially decided that time travel AU is part of Freyja’s canon timeline because a) it’s fun and b) it gives a lot more freedom creatively in terms of what she’s up to between graduation in 1991 and 1996, between 18 and 23 years of age.

Her appearance in medieval Britain is her third uncontrolled time shift, which occurred after falling off the Titanic in 1912.

After getting Excalibur taken off her by King Arthur, she is taken aside by Merlin who, with his powers of prophecy and visions of the future, had been expecting her. Freyja had to explain that she wasn’t a water fairy, rather a witch with a terrible grasp on time travel. She believes there’s nobody better equipped to help her with her time travel woes than the most famous and most powerful wizard of all time.

She spends a couple of years in this time period, learning all she can from Merlin. Who turns out to be quite different from what she was taught at school. A trickster and shapeshifter, he takes on the appearance of whatever he feels will be most advantageous. Appearing as a wise old man in the court of Camelot more easily gives off the impression of years of experience and knowledge in the eyes of Muggles. His next most common form to take is that of a talking blackbird, in reference to his name.

As part of her role as Lady of the Lake, she is involved in the care of young Lancelot. She teaches and guides as best she can, given she is only about 20-21 at the time. She’s all too painfully aware of Lancelot’s future concerning his doomed affair with Guinevere, and right up until she’s tasked with taking him to Camelot at the age of “18” (he’s actually 15), she’s trying to talk him out of becoming a knight.

[taeloke]

Can we take a moment on 148...

...and appreciate how thoughtful the setup for King's nerfing feels?

Let's be honest--he needed it. If this hadn't happened, he would have taken care of whole problem on his own. Camelot wouldn't stand a chance in infiltrating the Fairy Realm if nerfing him wasn't a part of their plan. Most notably, Nakaba wouldn't be able to write this arc with any sense of real tension.

This nerf could have been written in much simpler, cheaper ways. The realm could have been "steadily flooded" with a magic-draining poison over a couple or more years. A spell to let Kilbeggan sneak into the Realm undetected could have been invented into the story on the spot. The Kiane couple could have been put through yet another amnesia incident to remind us they've experienced that before. I watch a lot of bad movie/show reviews, and they all have overly convenient conflict causes like that. It's become a lot easier for me to expect that from media in recent years.

But here, I see a path that feels completely reasonable to me. For reasons we don't yet know (but I guess it's for Diodra), Camelot wants the Drug of Yore. To get that, they need to bypass the filtering defenses of the Fairy Realm's passageway. Once inside, they need a way to remove the Fairy King's (and maybe also the Giant Queen's) threatening power for as long as possible. After they made their sacrificial plan for the latter issue, Kilbeggan was sent to the Fairy King's Forest, almost certainly to scout the area and find a solution for the former issue.

Yes, there is some sense of convenience to that. We've only reached this point because King decided to offer the Drug of Yore to Nasiens and Mertyl witnessed that and got the wrong impression from it. But King made that offer because he caved in on his concern for Nasiens after seeing him hurt for two whole years. He didn't tell Mertyl the truth yet because he wasn't ready for it. The only real over-convenience is Kilbeggan arriving to scout on the same day this happened, which could have been timed with the help of Guinevere's visions. Despite that, it all lines up.

Idk. This thought was just stuck in my head. I specifically can't stop being happy that King got distracted because he's a loving dad and not a fool then shifted his priorities and killed his enemy right after. On top of that, he still prioritized Sixtus immediately after having a sealing curse put on him. That thing probably won't be easy to get rid of, but he is actively pushing that out of his mind for now.

I love King. He's such a klutz but he's a loving klutz. I love this klutz.

[caram3lla]

I just couldnt merge the two series so I made separate ones. To be fair, I haven’t really read 4koa so my opinion may be misguided but whatever (and I also haven’t watched 7ds in a while also, so…) PLEASE hear me out anyway😭🙏

I don’t have much to say about favorite character, I’m literally in love with Howzer and I’ve never loved a character as much as him. for Chion, he’s just an asshole and that’s enough for me. He has a lot of potential as a character and I’m really excited for him in the series, I would not be his friend IRL though because he would literally be the worst person to be around. And you know what, everyone can hate him but I will always appreciate him😚💖Gilthunder, Diane and Donny are runner ups for fav character!

To be honest, I don’t TOTALLY dislike Ban but…idk. I don’t like him very much, but not only for the very obvious Elaine related reasons. Something he did at the beginning of 7ds kinda stuck with me, when he tried to kill Meliodas to get Elaine back. I guess it’s supposed to be, like, heartbreaking that he wants his woman back so bad he’d kill his best friend???? Mid battle???? Like girl this is not about you rn😭 Idk if my friend tried to kill me to get her boyfriend back, I think I’d have to kill her idk that’s just me😭 and I’m really sorry to the Ban fans because I know he’s a good character and I get that he becomes a better friend later, that scene just stuck with me though

I feel like this might not be a super unpopular opinion but I didn’t really like Escanor at first. Ig I just didn’t really care about him. I like his night time self, he’s very sweet and dorky. The thing I like about SUPER confident and cocky characters is them getting taken down a notch, which he was, twice, so it’s fine. For Tristan, I’m so sorry but I really didn’t care for him at all😭 Before I read most of the scenes with him in it, I thought he was SOOOO bland and boring. Like, he was just nice, and loved, and that’s it. He seems like a character that thinks everything is his fault, which isnt a problem with him or his character, I just don’t really like characters like that. I like that he looks more like Elizabeth, I think that’s nice. Anyway I like him now and I think he’s more complex than I thought before!

I dislike Guinevere for the obvious reasons that everyone hates her for so I don’t have much to say😭I guess to cover the least favorite ship category, I don’t like her and Lancelot together and that one scene was super weird. I like her design tbh, she’s super cute, but yeah…

I honestly don’t dislike Veronica, I just like her design more than her herself😭She’s super caring and sweet, and loyal, just very abrasive sometimes. When she interacts with people and her family especially, you can tell that she really cares, even if she’s kinda mean. Anyway I love da bob and her dress, it’s very cute😌 on the flip side, I like Tioreh herself WAY more than her design. I honestly cannot pin down what I don’t like about her design, I just really really don’t like it😭 I’m sorryyyyyy

For the fav ships, I don’t have too much explaining to do (I’m gonna keep saying that and I’m lying every single time). For Gilthunder x Howzer, I just really love the friends to lovers trope. Although a One-sided! Howzer x Gilthunder is probably more realistic. Anyway I love their friendship as it is :) To be honest I never liked rivals to lovers until this Chion x Donny phase I have going on right now, I have no explanation for this I just think they’re cute.

Elizabeth is super sweet, and honestly I don’t mind her voice, she is such a caring friend. Jade is just like, the most normal character I think ever so I would be his friends irl, probably😭

I would NOT be friends with Gowther, I feel like he would expose me so often, and like, one of my biggest fears is that someone is reading my mind, so he’s literally my nightmare, and I don’t wanna know him😭

Anyway I’m done yapping now, thank you for reading this if your at this point lol

[morri-draws]

Gwaine x Reader - 'The Threads That Bind Us' - Chapter 3

Story Summary:

You, a humble dressmaker from Camelot’s lower town, are commissioned to make a new gown for Queen Guinevere. Impressed by your skills, she offers you the position of Royal Clothier. During your time in the castle, you catch the eye of one of the knights of King Arthur’s inner circle, Sir Gwaine. What starts as a sweet courtship is turned upside down when misfortune strikes and you must deal with the aftermath, as well as an unwelcome visit from Gwaine’s unpleasant sister.

Rating: Mature

Tags: Female Reader/Gwaine, set between seasons 4 and 5, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 4,536

Read Chapter 1

Read Chapter 2

Read on Ao3

With the finishing touches done, Sir Leon’s gambeson and Sir Gwaine’s cloak are complete. The day still being young, you plan to find the knights at morning training to inform them that their new garments are ready.

Passing through a covered walkway, you step into a grassy clearing, the clash of swords ringing through the air. The knights spar in the centre of the clearing, weapon racks and training dummies positioned around the perimeter.

Spotting Merlin leaning against one of the racks, you step up beside him and watch the sparring as the king shouts instruction from the sidelines. His damp hair tells you that he was involved in the mock-fight just moments ago. Eyes flicking between the helmeted knights, you manage to work out which is Sir Gwaine, by the curled ends of dark hair peeking out from under his helmet.

You nudge Merlin’s arm. “Having fun?”

He turns to you with a playful frown and shakes his head. “No, not really,”

“I just wanted to let Sir Gwaine and Sir Leon know that their new pieces are finished, if they could come to my chambers when convenient?”

“I’ll tell them to stop by after training,”

“Thank you Merlin,” You give him a smile and head back to your chambers.

~

A knock at your door some time later reveals Merlin.

“They are on their way, but I told them to wash first. They were dripping with sweat and stinking,” His nose wrinkles in disgust.

You laugh. “I appreciate that, Merlin. I would prefer if their new clothes aren’t immediately soiled,”

“That’s what I thought,” he grins. “Anyway, I’d better be off to clean Arthur’s sweaty clothes,”

“Sounds lovely,” You grimace. “See you around, Merlin,”

A short while later, Sir Leon arrives.

“Sir Leon, please come inside,”

You fetch his new gambeson as he enters the room. He’s out of his knight’s kit, wearing just a plain tunic and trousers, which make him appear even slimmer than usual. You approach with the gambeson in hand and assist him with putting it on, before preparing to fasten it in front, but Sir Leon has already begun to do so.

“I’m used to getting dressed myself,” He says, cheeks red.

You step back, allowing him to get a feel for the garment. He flexes his body, moving his arms around at different angles.

“This is very nice,” He says. “Extremely comfortable. Thank you,”

You bow your head. “Thank you, sir. I hope it serves you well,”

“Sir Gwaine might be some time. He was still preening when I left the armoury,” Sir Leon smirks.

You laugh. “Alright, I will try to be patient,”

He gives you an amused smile and leaves your chambers.

A while later, Sir Gwaine arrives.

“Finished making yourself presentable?” You ask as you answer the door.

He narrows his eyes. “Did Sir Leon mention something?”

“Mention something about what?” You feign ignorance.

“Never mind,” Gwaine steps inside.

You fetch his new cloak from the worktable and bring it over.

“Here we are, one new cloak, as requested,”

You drape it over his shoulders and align the front, fastening it. You focus intently on the metal buckle, very aware of how close you are to the knight. You can hear his breathing and are sure you can feel his gaze burning into the top of your head.

“There,” You say as you step back. “Give us a twirl,”

“Really? A twirl?”

“It’s important,” You suppress a smile.

Gwaine sighs and turns stiffly on the spot until he’s made a full rotation.

“Lacking grace, but it will do,” You say. “Are you happy with it?”

“I am, thank you,”

“And no more getting dragged behind horses,” You raise a stern finger.

Gwaine laughs. “Speaking of that, Camelot’s annual jousting tournament is approaching. I’ll be competing for the first time,”

“Oh, that’s exciting,” You smile.

“Perhaps, unless I make a complete fool of myself,” Gwaine grimaces. “I’m much more used to swordplay,”

“I’m sure you won’t, you do ever so much training,”

“That I do,” Gwaine laughs. “And it’ll be more so leading up to the tournament, so you may be deprived of my charming company,”

“I’ll bear it as best I can,”

“That being said, I must leave you now. Arthur will have Elyan, Percival and I learn the rules by heart. Theory as well as practice, he says,”

“Then I will wish you good day, and good luck,”

Gwaine gives a small bow and leaves your chambers.

~

With your first jobs as royal clothier now complete, and your chambers tidied, you decide to visit the queen to see if there is any more work for you.

The queen greets you when you knock on her chamber door, welcoming you inside.

“I have completed the knights’ new garments,” You say as you enter. “And I wondered if there might be more work for me,”

“I see that you aren’t one to be idle,” The queen says. “Now you mention it, there is another task you could do,”

She wanders over to the wardrobe and retrieves a red tunic.

“You see this,” She says, bringing it over and holding it up in front of the window. “It is threadbare, yet Arthur insists on still wearing it. They’re all like this. All the tunics he has, he’s had since he was still the prince,”

You inspect the garment and can indeed see the daylight shining through, in between the threads of the fabric’s weave.

“When he wears it, you can see through it. He almost might as well be shirtless,”

You stifle a laugh. Gwen sees and breaks into a smile.

“Excuse my ranting,” She laughs. “Anyway, I would like you to make some new tunics for him,”

“Would you like them to be made of a finer fabric to reflect his station?” You ask.

“Arthur isn’t one to wear fine things or flaunt his wealth. He’s always dressed simply,”

You nod thoughtfully. “Perhaps finely woven linen then? Not too fancy, but still good quality,”

“That sounds perfect for him,”

“Excellent. If you could send him my way when he has a free moment, I can get his measurements and make a start on the new tunics,”

“I will. Thank you, (Y/N),”

You turn to leave.

“Before you go,” Gwen says. “You may have noticed the extra bustle around the castle. We’re getting ready for the annual jousting tournament,”

“Oh yes, Sir Gwaine told me of it,”

“Well, I was wondering if you would be my special guest to the event. You can sit with me in the stands and we can watch the tournament together,”

You smile. “I would be honoured to go with you,”

~

Early the next morning, shortly after you’ve taken the last bite of your breakfast, there’s a knock at your door. You answer to find the king of Camelot.

“Welcome, sire. Please do come in,” You hold the door open so the king may enter, while sinking into a low curtsy.

He’s casually dressed, wearing one of the threadbare red tunics.

“It’s (Y/N), isn’t it?” He asks.

“Yes, sire,”

“Guinevere is very pleased with your work. She looks beautiful in the gown you made for her,”

A warmth floods through you at the king’s high praise.

“Thank you, sire. It fills me with happiness to hear you say so,”

The king smiles. “So, where do you need me?”

“Oh, just over here,” You direct him to the spot beside your worktables.

You grab your tape measure and begin taking measurements, marking them all down in a new page in your journal.

“Will it just be the new tunics today, sire?”

“Yes thank you, (Y/N),”

You take some bolts of fabric off the shelves, in different shades of red.

“Just come in front of the mirror please,”

“I hope you have enjoyed your time in the castle so far?” He says as he steps in front of the mirror. “Let me know if there is anything else you need,”

“I am very happy with my situation,” You reply. “I have generous chambers with ideal lighting and workspace for my trade, and I live amongst good company,”

Taking up one of the bolts of fabric, you unwrap it partially, draping the end over one of the king’s shoulders.

“Does that good company include Sir Gwaine?” He asks.

You spot his playful smile in the mirror, as well as your own reddening cheeks. You turn your gaze away in an attempt to hide that fact.

“It does include him, since everyone I’ve met so far has been kind,”

Glancing quickly back at the mirror, the king’s eyes are studying your reflection.

“He talks about you a lot,” He adds, giving a knowing smile as he spots your face reddening further. “Sir Gwaine is a good man,”

“Yes sire,” You reply weakly, wanting this part of the conversation to be over before your face resembles a beetroot.

You clear your throat and focus your attention back on your work.

“I have a scarlet linen here,” You pull the end of the fabric taut against the king’s chest. “Also if you want something more subdued, I have this one, which is more of a burgundy,”

You swap out the scarlet for the other colour, draping it over his shoulder in the same way.

“I’ll take a tunic in each colour,” The king says. “Do you also have some kind of… dark blue?”

“I should have, sire. I’ll just look at my stocks,”

You rest the bolt of burgundy linen down on the table and return to your shelves, retrieving a bolt of rich blue linen, and one of a more muted shade of blue. You take them to the king and hold them out for him to inspect.

“I have these shades of blue in the same linen as the reds,”

The king looks between them thoughtfully.

“I think that one,” He points to the muted blue. “It always pays to have something to make me look less like the king of Camelot,”

You look at him quizzically. Noticing your confusion, he adds:

“Some missions require me to be… unknown,”

You nod. “I see, sire. So, a tunic in the scarlet, one in burgundy and one in the blue here?”

“Yes that would be perfect, thank you (Y/N),” Arthur heads for the door. “Let me know when they’re finished,”

Next thing you know, he’s gone. You suppose he must be a very busy man.

~

In the time leading up to the tournament, you spend the days working on Arthur’s tunics and the nights reworking one of your old bodices. Since you will be going as the queen’s guest, you want to look your best, so you replace the old outer fabric with a red and gold brocade, the colours to show support for the competing knights of Camelot, or perhaps just one knight in particular.

On the morning of the tournament, you dress in a grey-brown skirt and a white blouse with your reworked red and gold bodice over the top, laced with gold ribbon. You fix your hair into a braided up-do, and since it threatens to be a chilly day, throw a plain shawl over your shoulders before you head out from the castle and begin your walk to the jousting pitch, which is situated just outside the city’s walls.

You make your way through the lower town, the streets bustling and buzzing with citizens excited for the day’s events. You catch bits of conversation here and there, about who will be competing and who has competed in the past, as well as things that have happened at previous tournaments. One such piece of gossip alarms you, and you quicken your pace, weaving through the crowd to get to the pitch as fast as you can.

You know you’ve made it to your destination when your vision is swamped with multi-coloured striped tents. Servants and participants rush about between the tents, appearing from and disappearing into the sea of striped canvas. How will you know where to find Gwaine?

You begin your helpless walk through the sea of colour when you spot a familiar face headed your way.

“Merlin!” You shout above the noise.

He looks up from the plate armour he is carrying and heads your way.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here?” He asks.

“Do you know where I can find Sir Gwaine?”

“He’s in that tent there,” He turns and points behind him, to a tent in a north-eastern direction from where you’re standing.

“Thank you Merlin,”

You rush off immediately and approach the tent, stopping outside the entrance flap for a moment to listen. You hear two voices inside, one which you are certain is Gwaine’s. Pulling the tent flap aside, you step inside. Gwaine looks up with surprise from where a squire is helping him into his kit.

“(Y/N), I wasn’t expecting you,” He says, brows raised. “You realise it is customary to knock before entering?”

“How is one to knock on a tent?”

“Fair point. Well, you should have announced yourself at least. What if I had been in a state of undress?” He teases with a grin.

Given your current state of anxiety, you give no reply but a concerned frown. Gwaine’s expression drops.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

The squire steps away from Gwaine and busies himself with something else.

“I heard people talking on the way here about past tournaments,” You say. “They said that once, a splinter from one of the lances pierced a knight’s throat and he bled to death,”

“(Y/N),” He steps closer. “If that even did happen, it would have been a long time ago,”

“How do you know that? How do you know it won’t happen again today?”

“Let me show you something,” He leads you to an armour stand. “You see this?” He points to a section at the top of the breastplate, where another metal plate sticks out just under the neckline. “This here is to protect against things like that,”

You inspect the armour and, thinking about how jousting is performed, see that he is right.

“The most injury I might get today is some bruising,” Gwaine says reassuringly.

You hang your head with embarrassment. “I’m sorry for disturbing you,”

“Hey,” He puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Don’t be sorry. It’s nice to know someone’s worried about me,” He smiles.

“I really should get going,” You say. “The queen will be waiting for me,”

“The queen?”

“She invited me to attend as her guest,”

“Then I shall look for you in the royal stand,”

You nod and turn to leave.

“(Y/N),”

You turn around.

“You look lovely today. Did you make your outfit yourself?”

“Of course,” You smile and exit the tent.

You find the queen waiting outside the entrance to the stands.

“So sorry I’m late,” You say as you rush toward her.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t been waiting long,” She smiles. “Shall we head in?”

You and Gwen climb the stairs to the royal stands, where two ornate chairs stand in the middle for the king and queen, and a smaller chair beside the one on the left has been placed for you. The queen takes her seat in the left of the larger chairs and you sit down beside her. The king’s seat remains empty at first, until he joins about ten minutes later. He smiles and greets you and Gwen as he sits down, peering into the lists below with anticipation.

Once the tournament is opened and announcements are made, the first contestants come onto the field. A knight mounts his horse at the east end of the lists, his heraldry telling that he is a knight of Camelot.

“That’s my brother, Sir Elyan,” Gwen leans over to speak in your ear. “It’s his first time competing,”

“Then I wish him good luck,” You smile. “Though I must admit, I do not know the rules of jousting, so I’m afraid I won’t know when to cheer for him,”

“Honestly, I don’t either,” Gwen grins. “Every time I think I’ve grasped it, there turns out to be a new rule I didn’t know of. Just applaud when the rest of the crowd does, that’s what I do,”

You laugh and turn your attention back to the lists, where Sir Elyan and his opponent are preparing. The king cheers from his seat, shouting encouragement.

“I can tell Arthur wishes he was down there in the thick of it,” Gwen says.

Below, the two knights charge toward one another, lances pointing up, but lowering as they approach. Sir Elyan’s lance taps against his opponent’s shoulder, but does not break. The crowd gives a subdued cheer.

“It’s not worth as many points if the lance does not break,” Gwen explains.

You nod and clap along with the crowd.

The match continues and the next two points are earned by Sir Elyan’s opponent, eliminating Elyan from the remainder of the competition. Next up of the knights of Camelot is Sir Percival, a large knight wearing questionable armour, his arms bared for all to see. He wins the majority of points and gets through to the next round. After Sir Percival’s round, Sir Gwaine is announced. He mounts his horse with the assistance of a squire, who then passes the knight his helmet and lance. Steering his horse into position, he looks to the stands and spots you, bowing his head with a smile. The horn marking the start of the round sounds and Gwaine hastily dons his helmet and urges his horse into a gallop. The two knights proceed and Gwaine’s opponent strikes him in the chest, splinters flying in all directions. Your gut clenches as you frantically look him over, but finding no sign of injury, you release a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“He should have focused!” You say.

“He had more important things on his mind, it seems,” Gwen smirks.

The knights return to their starting positions and begin the next pass. Gwaine doesn’t look to the stands this time, his focus entirely on his opponent. He lowers his lance, his horse’s hooves pounding beneath him. His lance strikes his opponent square in the chest. You shout and applaud enthusiastically. Gwaine turns his horse around and removes his helmet, finding you in the crowd again. He grins and crosses an arm over his chest, bowing, before putting his helmet back on and returning to his starting position. Hooves pound and lances fall, Gwaine striking his opponent again. You stand, cheering and smacking your hands together with glee. When the knights leave the field and you sit down again, Gwen leans over to speak to you.

“Sir Gwaine has beginners’ luck, he is through to the next round,” She smiles. “There is an intermission now. We can stretch our legs and get some refreshments,”

You and Gwen exit the stands and head to a make-shift food market that’s been set up just outside the jousting pitch. Food and drink stalls stand in rows through the grassy clearing, serving the townsfolk and nobles alike, since all are welcome to watch the tournament.  Just as you turn to ask Gwen where she would like to go, a knight approaches.

“Elyan,” Gwen greets him with a smile. “This is my friend, (Y/N),” She introduces you.

“So you are (Y/N)?” He says with a smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. I’ve heard so much about you,”

“Only favourable things, I hope?”

“Do not fear, I’ve heard only the best of things,” He smiles mischievously, as if amused at an inside joke.

“You did well in the joust,” Gwen says.

“Is that what you call doing well?” Elyan shakes his head.

“But you are a beginner to the sport,” You say. “To compete for the first time, in front of such a crowd, takes great courage. Even the most skilled jousters, including the king himself, were once in your place. You can only improve from now,”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” Elyan says earnestly. “That is very kind of you,”

Gwen gives you a warm smile.

“Let me get you ladies something to drink, I’ll be right back,” Elyan turns around and heads toward a nearby drinks stand.

“Elyan can be very hard on himself,” Gwen says. “Thank you for your kind words,”

You smile in reply, and Elyan returns a few moments later, a tankard in each hand. He passes you and Gwen one each, filled with warm mead.

“What about for yourself?” Gwen asks.

“There’ll be plenty of time for drinking later with the other knights,” He grins.

You take a sip of your drink, the warm honey sweetness pleasant on your tongue.

“Sir Gwaine did quite well, don’t you think (Y/N)?” Elyan asks.

“Yes, very well. You must be proud of him,” You reply.

“I am, I just hope he doesn’t boast about it too much later,”

“Known to do that, is he?”

“If he’s in the mood,” Elyan shrugs playfully. “I should head back and see how the others are doing. Very nice to meet you, (Y/N),”

He gives a smile to you and Gwen and heads toward the tents.

After your drinks are finished, you return the tankards to the merchant stall and go back to your seats in the jousting stands. You watch all the knights who made it to the second round, including Gwaine, who wins again, making it through to the third round along with Sir Leon who, as Gwen informs you, has been participating in the annual joust for years.

The third round commences and you watch Gwaine’s turn with bated breath, but having made it this far along with other very skilled participants, he loses the round and is disqualified from the remainder of the competition. You applaud him all the same as he leaves the pitch, giving him a small smile and wave when he looks at you in the stands.

You stay by Gwen’s side for the remainder of the tournament, though you are altogether bored with the competition, being that the only competitor you cared to cheer for is no longer in the running. But you still applaud politely for each winner, until at last the tournament is called to a close. The king quits the stands first to go to congratulate the winners, before you and Gwen leave, beginning a leisurely walk back to the castle.

Some way up the path, you spot Gwaine speaking with a woman. His expression and movements suggest some frustration. As you approach, he glances up and spots you, saying something to the woman before they both head your way.

“My lady,” He addresses Gwen. “May I introduce my sister, Erika. Erika, this is Queen Guinevere,”

Erika dips into a low curtsy, her long dark hair swaying with the movement. “An absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady,”

Gwen inclines her head. “A pleasure to meet you, Erika. Welcome to Camelot,”

Erika glances to you, her expression unsure. You notice a likeness between the brother and sister. Erika and Gwaine share the same shape of nose and eye colour. But while her eyes may be the same shade, they do not contain the same softness as Gwaine’s do.

“And this,” Gwaine gestures to you. “Is Lady (Y/N),”

You shoot Gwaine a quizzical look as Erika dips into a much shallower curtsy, and mouth at him: Lady? He replies with a grimace.

“Nice to meet you, Lady (Y/N),” Erika says.

“A pleasure to meet you too, Erika,” You reply. “What brings you to Camelot?”

“Oh, I thought I should see how my dear brother is doing,” She grasps Gwaine’s arm with a smile. “He’s been here, becoming a knight and having all sorts of fun, while his poor sister was left behind, in the same old city with the same old people, bored to death,”

“I hope you will find some amusement during your stay in Camelot, then,” Gwen says.

“Indeed, my lady, it seems a charming sort of place,” Erika says. “On that note, you absolutely must introduce me to your fellow knights, Gwaine,”

She tugs on his arm.

“Good day to you both,” Gwaine says to you and Gwen as Erika steers him away, toward the tents.

You and Gwen say goodbye, before continuing the way you came.

“That was… a bit strange,” Gwen says.

“Indeed. She seems… fun,”

You both laugh.

“Speaking of fun, I’ve learned of a textile market that is famous for its beautiful silks. It is some distance to go, but I was wondering if you might like to make an outing of it and go together?” Gwen asks.

“I would love to go,” You reply.

“We should head out three days from now, if we’re to get there before it’s finished.”

“That works for me,” You smile excitedly.

Once you reach the castle courtyard, you say goodbye to Gwen and head up to your chambers. After making a simple dinner, you decide to get an early night since you feel quite exhausted from the day’s activities.

You take down your hair, about to get ready for bed, when there’s a knock at your door. Curious about who might be visiting at this hour, you exit your bedroom and answer the door to find Gwaine.

He glances at your hair. “I’m sorry if I’ve disturbed you,”

“Not at all,” You reply. “Is everything alright?”

He sighs. “I wanted to talk with you earlier, but my sister has been interfering since she got here,”

“Did you know she was coming?”

“No, I didn’t. I was just getting ready to head to the armoury when she suddenly showed up, saying she’d come for a visit,”

You give a sympathetic frown. “Well since you’re here now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Gwaine perks up. “I’ve got a day free, three days from now, and I wanted to ask… if you’d like to go on a picnic with me?” He smiles.

“Oh,” You frown. “I would love to, but I’m afraid I’ve already made plans with the queen,”

“I see…”

“I’m so sorry Gwaine, perhaps another day?”

He puts a hand on his hip, looking down thoughtfully.

“What about tomorrow? Are you free?”

“I can be,” You smile. “I have no firm plans,”

“Excellent. We can go tomorrow then, if that suits?”

“It does, but won’t you have duties to attend to, or training?”

“I’ll work something out, don’t worry,” Gwaine grins. “I’ll come by tomorrow before breakfast. We’ll take a couple horses to a nice spot I know of not too far from the castle,”

“That sounds wonderful,”

“It’s set then! I’ll see you in the morning,” He turns to leave.

“Gwaine,”

He looks back.

“You did very well in the joust today,” You smile. “You should be proud of yourself,”

He grins. “I couldn’t very well make a fool of myself while you were watching, could I?”

You laugh. “I would have cheered for you all the same,”

He looks down sheepishly, but with a smile still on his lips. “Goodnight, (Y/N). Sweet dreams,” He glances up at you through his dark lashes.

“Goodnight, Gwaine. See you tomorrow,”

[the-moon-will-not-sing]

I watched Castlevania: Nocturne and saw this "white dude with a black/BIPOC girlfriend" (Annette in this case) again I'd seen in many other shows. Why do the creators choose a female character to be BIPOC but ALWAYS keep the main character a plain white dude with, most of the time, no interesting characteristics?

Annette

It's not just that they want to add more diversity, it's just that they want to kill two rabbits with one bullet:

—Adding a female character;

—Adding a BIPOC character.

Bonus points if that character is also queer. Sometimes they make a black guy and not a female but they also make him gay.

But they would literally never make the main character a black woman, because the main character is always a white dude??

More examples of this:

Annabeth Chase.

I love the actress and she did great. But why wouldn't the creators make Percy black? Black Percy is very popular in fandom. Oh, right, because he's a male main character and we can't let him to be black, so let's make the girl black. "I mean, we should be more practical, right?? We should use our recourses right but we also want to be more inclusive. We already have a female character, there is no room for another character just to be a BIPOC so let's make HER a black character".

I don't care that Percy is a white boy in the books, Annabeth is also a white girl but why do you care about the male main character's race more about the other's?

Hermione Granger.

Same as for Annabeth, they just wanted to have at least one black character but they would NEVER cast a black person for Harry and Ron. Because these two characters are two white dude with their own chemistry.

Guinevere Pendragon.

My poor little girl, I wish she had more love from the fandom. But the truth is, the creators AND the fans are so obsessed over two white dudes that none of them give enough attention to Guinevere. There is literally "anti-gwen" stuff going on inside of fandom. And people would ship Arthur with literally every white girl (or Merlin) but never with his WIFE WHOM HE LOVES IN THE SHOW. Because she's a black woman love interes to our "precious little white male main character". They would never make Arthur or Merlin black.

Inej Ghafa.

Can't say much about her, I just started watching Shadow and Bone. But as soon as I saw that she is supposed to be a love interest to the main white male character Kaz, I rolled my eyes.

Laena Velaryon and Baela Targaryen.

Mother and daughter. Wife and betrothed. It's an interesting choice to make all the Velaryons BIPOC but it was supposed to backfire because the Targaryens would be at least partially black, too (Aenys's wife, Alyssa, was Velaryon, and it's their lineage that survived). But no, of course they wouldn't make Daemon and Jace black or BIPOC, they have to be two white dudes. The creators literally had a chance to make Jace black, because in the books his legitimacy was questioned only by "the greens" and could be just rumours. Yes, Laenor is gay, but you are telling me he had no chance, especially when Addam (in the books) was supposed to be his bastard? (Laenor is half Targaryen, unlike Corlys, and Laenor's bastard could be dragonriders).

Honorary mentions (because I'm tired):

Elle Argent.

Technically, she is a trans woman which only adds bonus points in making her character. Because our main characters are two white dudes.

Eric Effiong.

He's a gay black man, our main white character's best friend. Though, I do appreciate that he has a lot of screen time unlike most of the characters I mentioned.

Rose Weasley.

Because the main characters are two white boys and she's the only female character. (I cannot attach a photo of her because of the limits per post but you can see her with Hermione)

Starfire.

I know she's technically not a human. But the actress playing her is BIPOC. The creators have no balls to make Dick Grayson a black character.

I do not hate those characters, I love all of them. And I am a person of colour who is just tired of seeing how the creators are trying so much to include more BIPOC characters but they also try SO HARD to NOT cast for the main male character a black/BIPOC actor. Because they want to keep the main male character a white person and I have literally no idea why.

Make Percy Jackson black!! Make Merlin black!! Make Trevor Belmont black!! Why does it always have to be a female character of colour???

[rhikasa]

Seven Deadly Sins Tag

Thanks @the-golden-comet (here), @sableglass (here), and @tragedycoded (here) for the tag! ♥️

Rules: Which of your OCs would you assign to which of the seven deadly sins and why?

Lust

Lian has a lust for power and is willing to do anything to obtain it, but I cannot go into further detail on that since it would be a major spoiler.

Gluttony

Vangilyne has expensive taste and a tendency to overindulge in what she enjoys. I'm still trying to figure her out as a character, so I don't have much left to add, but she suits this sin.

Greed

Nykia wants to have dominion over the entire world. As the spawn of the primordial Darkness, she feels entitled to it. The world had come into existence without light, so it's only fitting for it to return to its natural state. She views lesser beings as toys for her to break and bend to her will, and nothing would please her more than to take them all from the other deities.

Sloth

Some in the wos universe would argue Damaeris has shirked his responsibilities, but not for lack of trying or care at least in the beginning. He is a Cassandra figure of sorts, cursed with visions of the future but with no one to believe him. And once everything happens as was predicted, he is often appointed by others to take the fall; a sacrificial lamb used to absolve them of their own blame and guilt. Over time he grew tired and traumatized by this and set off on his own, only to run into Guinevere years later and be forced to confront yet another one of his visions with her at its epicenter. He knows that he should warn her of the upcoming devastation, but he's been wronged by his own kind before. How can he be sure it will go well this time around?

Wrath

Silas has a strong desire to inflict pain and suffering onto those who have harmed him as a child. This need for vengeance has consumed him to the point where he cannot tell when this path ends and where his life is finally allowed to start. He has clung to this anger for so long that he cannot even begin to understand who he might be without it. Perhaps obtaining inner peace will never be an option available to him, leaving him no choice but to become a monster in turn.

Envy

Taliesin is the second son of King Balis, the spare. Whilst Radan gets all the love and admiration of their father, he is left with nothing but his neglect and abuse. He wants nothing more than to be his brother's equal, but the lack of affection over the order of his birth and his notice of Radan's dislike of being in the spotlight breeds resentment in his soul. Taliesin wants to take his place, as he would have a better appreciation for his brother's position as heir to the throne.

Pride

Alinar was once considered a child prodigy, as he excelled in magic far beyond the capabilities of his peers at the time, and the praise he received bolstered his ego. Over time, however, he begins to stand out less and less as those around him become his equals. He still craves being the center of attention, but there is no longer something special about him and he cannot stand it. This need to prove himself causes him to plunge the angel/reni war into further chaos in an attempt to create a self-fulfilling prophecy and come out on top. Surely if the world becomes unstable enough, a deity will feel compelled enough to take on an avatar once more in order to balance the scales, and who better than himself is able take on this burden of power?

Tagging (no pressure): @ashfordlabs @captain-kraken @snowthornes and an open tag for anyone who’d like to join!

[doomspaniels]

It is Guinevere Appreciation Time. You will Appreciate Guinevere now.

With fingernails. Right there. Melting now.

[iceiclehorned]

Comfort food(s): So… admittedly, I have quite the sweet tooth. I’m quite guilty of enjoying a range of snacks, including oreos, buenos, ice cream… you name it. I mean, I work it off easily in the gym, so it isn’t too bad. It’s finding the will to not indulge in something delightful — which, at this point in time, will never ever happen.

Comfort drink(s): I enjoy drinking mochas occasionally, as well as a cup of tea (British things, innit?) and hot chocolate. Hot chocolate has always been my favourite since I was young, and then I started to explore different coffees, found that mocha was perfect. Oh, and when I say I like tea, I mean sweet tea with a minimum of two sugars. It’s satisfying to have on days where I just don’t have the energy to do much, in honesty.

Comfort movie(s): I already have a post that is due to be deleted about it, but Pride and Prejudice. No matter how many times I watch it, it still gives me this giddy, excitable feeling that can only be expressed through that goddamn romance. I don’t normally find my interest piqued by romance generally speaking, but the way feelings are there, protected by the ego and pride of both parties involved, unwilling to admit wholeheartedly that they are in love, using the excuse of their differing circumstance to keep them apart — until the ache of what the heart wants becomes far too unbearable, forcing one another into each other’s arms. Such splendour should be appreciated and adored! It fills my heart with a joy that is rarely communicated with through media such as a a movie or show. There is also Howl’s Moving Castle. The art, the story, the sheer romance (the scope of the story does go beyond that of a simple love story, but i am trying to avoid rambling on too much) of it all is so freaking enthralling! but I don’t want to claw into that just yet. Okay, so, maybe there is a theme here that will never be discussed beyond this post! I forgot to throw in Coraline.

Comfort show(s): Naruto/Naruto Shippuden is one of them! It honestly stuck in my brain for quite some time to the point where I was constantly watching it. I don’t have it in me to revisit it, but Itachi’s character was one that I fell in love with, given the choices he made & the overarching plot twist behind his actions. I feel like the story for it is one of the best-written forms of media I have ever consumed so disgustingly, and I can’t wait to do it again!

Comfort clothing: I enjoy wearing sweatpants the most, baggy t-shirts & hoodies are my main go-to clothing pieces.

Comfort song(s): My taste in music is vast. I’m happy to try out absolutely anything that is suggested to me by a friend, even if it turns into a whole playlist. Naturally, I have songs that I listen to that count as my base, such as Something About You by Eyedress, Dent May. I also just listen to a lot of The Weeknd’s music.

Comfort book(s): I don’t really have a set of comfort books to share right now. I might update this in the future with some, but the only memorable story is “You”. I prefer it over the show for sure. The exploration of a man so psychologically twisted that when he finally “settled” and had a kid, he would abandon a son, purely out of disgust, knowing that he would turn out just like him. Also, Guinevere Beck is my favourite. I just perceive her as a human character, somebody with flaws that are outlined clearly, and it was an aspect I really enjoyed. I might even reread the first book, just for her. Side note: the cage is such a cool concept, and I will be taking notes. kidding. not really.

Comfort game(s): If I’m honest, I’m not sure if I have any specific comfort games? I really enjoyed games like The Crooked Man, Ao Oni, Paranoiac, etc., RPG horror games have always been my beat, but it’s funny because I can’t cope with horror movies, even if it is a thrasher. Thrillers aren’t so bad, but I’m a wuss puss T_T I’m not too ashamed to admit it.

tagged by: @wifeysaremylifey - thanks for tagging me, you beauty! (Since I started writing this, @mysticallities also tagged me — thank you!!)

tagging: @boomania @ancicntforged @wildnin @capravulpes @captivemuses @eternalbxtterfly @eternity-hero @hxroic-wxlls-rxborn + anybody else that would like to take part!

[forgottenedmund]

arthur & edmund: "don't you dare throw that snowba--goddamnit!"

[ 15 years ago ]

"What on earth are you doing?"

It was snowing. And not just any snow: it happened to be the first snow of the season. The entire courtyard was covered with it. Edmund had stopped on their walk to grab himself a handful of the stuff.

"We don't have time to play in the snow." Arthur continued. There was no patience in his voice. All five of the Varmont children had been presented to their father that morning on one of his rare appearances. He had tested them all (Guinevere, Arthur, and Edmund more than the rest) and Arthur and Edmund had both been found wanting. It was Guinevere who had won the round and with this victory, he had asked her to stay behind after the other's left.

The jealousy and frustration Arthur felt at this slight was apparent.

"Arthur's right, Edmund," Sebastian said softly. "Our tutors are expecting us."

Edmund stood upright, packing a handful of snow in his hands.

Arthur arched an eyebrow, "Are you going to throw that at me?"

"Of course not," Edmund replied sarcastically. "I never throw a snowball after I've gone through all the effort of making one. That's the real fun."

Arthur did not appreciate his brother's sarcasm -- especially in this moment. "Stop being such a child."

"I am a child. And so are you." Edmund would have thrown it at him right then if he'd been confident he wouldn't miss. His throwing arm wasn't particularly strong and he didn't want to look like an idiot just now.

"I am not a child!"

Edmund supposed, in a way, he was right. Despite Arthur's rather childish declaration of not being a child, they hadn't had much of a childhood thus far. The three of them had been pitted against each other for their father's throne since the day they'd been born and Sebastian was always trying to run interference whenever their tempers flared. The only one who had ever really been allowed to be a child was Cassandra, who was too busy trying to catch snowflakes on her tongue to notice that her brothers were on the verge of fighting with each other.

"Alright, enough. Let's go," Sebastian interjected.

Arthur and Edmund stared at each other for a few more moments without saying a word. It was Arthur who turned first and started to head off after Sebastian. The fact that Edmund still hadn't dropped the snow in his hands had not escaped him. And after he'd turned around, he gave his brother one final warning,"Edmund, don't you dare throw that sno-- Goddammit!!"

At that moment, a snowball came crashing into the back of Arthur's head. To say that Arthur looked infuriated as he turned round, was an understatement. Before he could say another word, Sebastian stepped between the boys. "Arthur, Edmund I -- "

"-- I told you not to throw that snowball!" Arthur pushed passed Sebastian, heading straight for his youngest brother.

"I didn't." Everyone looked down to see that Edmund still had the snow in his hand. It was hardly resembled anything more than a melting mess, now.

"What -- ?"

Everyone turned then to see Cassandra standing behind Edmund, eyes wide as she witnessed her brother getting angry. She'd seen Edmund making snowballs earlier and, while everyone was talking, had begun making one of her own oblivious to the tension that had been rising. She'd honestly meant to throw one at Edmund, but she'd thrown it too hard and it passed up over his head and landed, instead, on Arthur's.

"Nice shot." Edmund was both impressed (even if he knew Cassandra wouldn't have been able to replicate that again if she tried) and amused (it took everything he had not to laugh -- Arthur truly looked a ragged mess).

But Cassandra beat him to it yet again and although her brother's were all suddenly afraid that she might cry, the next minute she started to laugh at how ridiculous Arthur looked. Whatever tension had been growing between Arthur and Edmund began to fade away and it was now Arthur's turn to laugh.

"Your turn!" Cassandra shouted.

Arthur bent down and made a snowball of his own. "Don't think you I won't get you back, just because you are a girl!"

Cassandra squealed, laughing as she ran to hide behind Sebastian, "You won't be able to catch me!"

"Hmm, perhaps you are right," Arthur mused and, instead, he tossed one to Edmund instead.

"Not too old for this, after all?" Edmund raised an eyebrow.

"Guess not." Arthur shrugged.

It was Edmund's turn to throw and this time he hit Sebastian who had long ago given up on trying to get any of them to their lessons on time.

Moments later, the four of them were properly drenched from the snow and they'd managed to leave their footprints over almost every inch of the courtyard. It had been a long time since they'd played like this: forgetting every care they had in the world.

"What on earth is going on? Look at the four of you. Absolutely Deplorable."

All four of them stopped in their tracks and stared at Guin. No one had noticed her step outside and, noting the disapproval on her face, each of them were suddenly ashamed at this display. It was not befitting of princes and princesses.

"If you are going to have a snowball fight, you must do it properly. Not a single one of you have constructed a fort. How can you prepare your arsenal if you do not have the right defenses? Come, let me show you all how it is done."

[queer-ragnelle]

I saw your list of favorite Arthuriana authors and I can't help but ask for a few of them. What can you tell me about...?

Gerald Morris

Phillis Ann Karr

John Erskine

Marvin Borowsky

Hi anon!

Gerald Morris is the author of The Squire’s Tales, a 10 book children’s series that covers many points of view. A lot of lesser appreciated side characters get focus, like Gaheris, Dinadan, and Lunete. He also has another series written for an even younger audience called The Knights’ Tales. These are still in print and Mr. Morris alive, so I’ve linked to goodreads and you can decide from there if you want to get the books from the library or buy them.

Phyllis Ann Karr is the author of murder mystery Idylls of the Queen which covers the story of the apple poisoning in Le Morte d’Arthur and subsequent search for the culprit. It’s written from first person Kay perspective with deuteragonist Mordred. It’s excellent. She also wrote The Arthurian Companion (which is out of print, so that link is a PDF), The Follies of Sir Harald, and recently published a compilation of short stories that were previously included in now defunct anthologies called Arthurian Tales. They’re all wonderful.

John Erskine wrote two Arthurian books, one is Galahad and I actually haven’t read that one yet but have heard good things. He has another one called Restoring Palamede which is mostly from Palomides perspective and really goes a long way of handling his character with respect and dignity previously never explored. I loved it a lot! It’s an old book so it’s far from perfect in its depiction of a Muslim family (Palomides’ parents are both in it too!) but the effort comes from a good place and was enjoyable. Those links are PDFs where you can read them too!

Marvin Borowsky has a single novel to his name and that novel is The Queen’s Knight. I thrifted this on a whim as I’d never heard of it. Anon, I devoured it in a single day. Enthralled, I tell you. It reminds me of Knights of the Round Table (1953) in that Mordred is an adult from the start as another warlord butting heads with Arthur. The majority of the book is in Lucan the Butler’s point of view, sometimes switching to Mordred or Arthur, and has omnipresent narrative at times too which occasionally dips into other characters’ minds. This book has a whopping four ratings on good reads (one of which is me) and no cover. It’s so niche. Mordred is gay in it (content warning for pederasty) and near the end of the book has a loving relationship with another knight. Agravaine also appears to be hopelessly in love with Lancelot the whole time. I like the characterizations of Orkney bros, Kay, Lucan and kin, Guinevere. Most of the characters really! The writing style is delicious. Lucan’s wife Jocelyn and Kay’s mother Margaret are both fun characters. I also find it endearing that this book has a newspaper article dedicated to it, published April 10, 1955!!! My friend @waleweinn was able to get it for me. Check it out!

[sinners-in-paradise]

Chapter Two: Victims in Paradise

Masterpost

Chapter written by @camachine

[This chapter contains graphic descriptions that may be disturbing to some readers.]

–––

Seeing as Dero was incapable of moving properly, the group decided on carrying him to a sheltered cave and treating him there. His wounds seemed to be more emotional than physical once he had been pulled down from the tree, but he sobbed and wailed as if dying regardless. Ironic.

"His name is Dero," Dulciana explained. "He's Dark Matter... surely you recognized that, Cele?"

She nodded. "He's not... dangerous... is he?" she fumbled.

"No, not at all. I knew him from my time watching over dearest Pleiades... They were good friends, and from what I know, he was the sweetest thing. A knight, and a very noble one at that. Perhaps not the sharpest knife in the drawer... but he was so full of joy and goodness. It's awful to think of how he could've gotten in this situation."

"A knight. Hmph," Gwen mumbled to herself. "Seems he was stabbed to death..."

"I know it's a delicate thing for you, Guinevere, but it's best if you're as cooperative as possible. We don't want him to feel unwelcome."

"Unwelcome?" she asked reluctantly. "We're welcoming him?"

"If he wishes to accompany us, I don't see why not."

Eventually, they finally stumbled upon a dark, damp crevice along the edges of a large cliff, which was fortunately just large enough for the four of them and a small campfire. While Guinevere tried her hardest to make sparks with two rocks and Celeernyx watched her idly, Dulciana tried her hardest to clean Dero's stab wounds and explain his situation to him.

"It seems you've died, dearest," she told him sweetly. "I'm sure you already knew. It happens to the best of us."

There was no reply. If Dero had something to say, he was too shaken to say it.

"He's unsettled," Celeernyx mustered. "O-Of course he is. He-e's surrounded by a b-bunch of dead wo-omen."

"How'd you die? From the looks of your wounds it was something real nasty," Guinevere asked him casually.

"Gwen!" Dulci snapped at her. "If we're unsettling him now, you're going to make him have a panic attack!"

"Tis... tis alright..." Dero finally mumbled. "Tis alright."

"Huh. So he can say more words." Gwen smiled. "It'd help us plenty if you could a tell us a bit about how you died, dearie, seeing as you and Dulci here seem to know each other a bit. Maybe we can help you by... well, we'll get there. And it might affect how you end up in the end, similar to Cele and her wings."

"End up in the end? Wings?" he asked her nervously.

"I don't want to think about it too hard or explain it either. Again, we'll get to it when we get it. I... eh... I think we have time. Go on."

"Oh! Uhm... I..." He paused, hesitant to bring up the fatal incident. Simply thinking of the moment, of his raspy, tired breath, of the pooling blood, of her satisfied gaze... it was too much.

"I wast fatally wounded. In combat, I mean," he said. "I art a knight. And I... I wast stabbed to death by an enemy. By a horrible beast. That's all." It's not a lie per se, he figured.

Though Dulciana suspected he might be twisting the truth ever so slightly, none of her friends doubted him, and as such she decided to keep her mouth shut. Best to avoid conflicts, she thought.

"Thank you," she said softly. "That must've been a rough memory for you. I appreciate your openness." She cleared her throat. "How about we introduce ourselves to you, as an icebreaker? That way you can get to know us and how we died."

"O-Oh! An introduction! Of course," Dero said quietly.

"You already know me... Miss Dulciana, yes, Dero?" she told him. "I was engaged to my dearest Pleiades, remember? But I died of health complications when I fell ill. At the very least I passed on with my true love by my side." She sighed dreamily. "Your turn, Celeernyx."

"O-Oh! My turn! Right!" she said. "Oh... m-my name is Celeernyx. I was a Hero of Yore. Right. I helped seal away... V-Void Termina. And... and... my crown... you see m-my crown, right? It.. it t-took my mind. And it turned i-into something horrible... something really horrible. I... I was a queen. I loved my pe-eople, I think. And I... I failed them. I-I... the crown... I destroyed everything. And then I saw light... I saw mysel-lf and what I had done. Wha-at the crown had done. I felt myself growing w-weaker and weaker and then I sh-shat-tered."

"Why... t-that's awful, m'lady! I mean... My queen!" Dero fumbled. "As a knight, I can only imagine how awful it must be to fail that which I serve... Thou hast mine sincerest condolences."

Even now, he's so loyal and over-the-top, Dulci thought. It was endearing, in a way, and it was relieving to hear that, though upset, he wasn't unhealthily panicking about what he was hearing. It seemed as if he had come to a certain degree of understanding about his current state and the people surrounding him.

"Now you, Gwen," she said. "Tell Dero about yourself."

"Hmph. Right. Well, my name is Guinevere King. Or... not Guinevere King. I'm not sure if I'm still comfortable with the surname. I was transformed into a monster type as a young child by an entity commonly known as 'Nightmare'. You've heard of it?"

Dero nodded. "I wouldn't have guessed thou were a monster if thee hadn't told me, though. Thou... ehm... Thou art very beautiful."

She blushed at the comment, her face going slightly red beneath her fur. "Well, you wouldn't be the only one to think that. A-About not being so recognizable as a monster, I mean," she said nervously. "I've always been a bit odd, but when I escaped Nightmare and tried to live a normal life, I went unnoticed as what I was by my peers. I... I fell in love, like a normal girl. And I got married and had myself a son and I got a job as a soldier knight and I was happy. And then..." She trailed off, carefully picking out her next words. "My partner found out I was a monster. We were in bed when he took his sword and slashed at me... completely unprompted, I mean. I tried to... defend myself with my spear. For a few minutes, we scuffled, until he finally caught me with the blade and twisted it inside. I screamed and begged and eventually, he released it in a flurry of blood. And you know, it was scary, right? I could see the edges of some organs beginning to peek out, and still my body wasn't giving in. I think he was scared too, maybe, because the next thing he did was to hack at me again and again and again, until I could barely breathe and I had collapsed into his arms. It's so strange, because I wasn't worrying about what was going to happen to me... I was worrying about my son. I don't know. I think... I think my husband thought I was dead, because I had stopped screaming and I was covered in our blood and guts and my eyes had started glossing over, and I wish I had been, because then he took my body and started wrapping it up in our bedspread." She paused to take a deep breath. "I think... I think he might've done something else to me, but I can't remember, because I was barely lucid. And once the bedspread had covered my mouth, I really couldn't get any air into my system at all, so I pretended I was falling asleep and blacked out to the smell of my rotting insides. The end."

Dero stared at her wide-eyed, his eyes tearing up. Eventually, a sob escaped his throat.

"Gwen! Now look at what you've gone and done!" Dulci snapped at her.

"What?! You told us to tell him how we died!" she said very matter-of-factly.

"You didn't have to be so graphic about it!"

"Art exists to comfort the disturbed and disturb the comforted," she shrugged.

"You are not art."

"My... My husband's cheesy poems would care to disagree."

"He stabbed you to death," Cele pointed out.

"I can't believe he would do that!" Dero sobbed. "Why would... why would he hurt thee like that?! J-Just because of thine monstrous blood?! THINE OWN LOVER!?!”

"Now, now. It's all in the past," Dulciana told him comfortingly. "That one really got to you, hm? Guinevere's not usually like this, I can assure you..."

"That's awful! That's so awful!" he wailed.

"Dulci's right. Don't fret," Gwen sighed, growing melancholic herself. "It hurts me too, but there's not much I can do for now. It's best to let it go, forgive and forget... even if it's really, truly hard. I... I'm sorry if I made you 'sad'. I know you were stabbed to death too. Maybe I was too harsh."

"I... I art sorry too," he said. "I art sorry. Tis horrible. I wish I could make it up to thou, make it up to all of thee."

"Dero, you don't have to–"

"But... but there art nothing we can do. We're dead," he sighed. "We're... We're dead!"

"It is i-inconvenient," Cele sighed. "But... We're plotting to return to liv-ving world, soon!"

"Cele! Too early!" Gwen told her.

"Well... I suppose there's no use in hiding it now," Dulciana said. "Dero, I am uncertain of how long you've been in Hades. I don't think you've heard of much of this but... there are rumors." She lowered her voice. "Of course, these rumors have existed for... a very long time. But local legend states that there is a way for dead souls to return to living world, if temporarily. I suspect it has something to do with the current ruler of Hades, which can drift between worlds... but of course, we'd have to be unfathomably powerful to channel this... we'd have to gather power, yes?" She rubbed her temples anxiously. "It's all very unclear at the moment, but I know there ought to be a way for me to see my dear Ades again... and we have two powerful knights and a Hero of Yore on our side! Surely it cannot be impossible."

His eyes widened. "We... We can attempt closure? We can go back?"

"Maybe," he heard a rough, strained voice say behind him. "But I wouldn't try it if I wanted to maintain my sanity."

He swerved around to get a look at whoever had interrupted the conversation, making a quick, burning pain shoot through his body. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't... that.

A slim, goopy figure had emerged from what he assumed to be a puddle of paint on the ground. Its abnormal pinkish silhouette vaguely resembled that of a woman with long, drooping hair, but it was so disfigured that it could barely be recognized as such. This was made even more unsettling by its multiple glowing yellow eyes and its slim, golden mouth, which appeared like a slash across the middle of its body. Fortunately, this was mostly covered by a thick purple scarf wrapped just below the mouth slit and a large, floppy hat placed upon its head.

"You couldn't even hear me appear behind you, and you expect to best death itself?" It let out a shrill screech, which he assumed was a laugh. "You have so much to learn about this god-forsaken place. You're fresh meat, aren't you?"

"Who do you think you are to barge in on us?" Gwen asked her, lifting her spear from the ground.

"...An overlord!" it cackled. "Who else?"

Witch's laugh, Dero thought. He doubted whoever this person was was up to any good.

But more importantly... What the hell... no... What in hades was an "overlord" supposed to be?