#Stranger's Vassal
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sunshine-in-a-bottle · 1 year ago
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👀 for the end of year meme? also hi suds
Listen I could continue to talk about how I may be just utterly insane and need to give up trying to make the CKAU "written well" and just Write It but also there's another annoying thing I haven't gotten time to finish AND ITS. THE GODDAMN STRANGER'S VASSAL CHAPTER. I dont know how to do read more on desktop here have a snippet of the pre-Dreambur shenanigans.
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With each step they took towards an unknown future, Dream debated the pros and cons of making a run for it.
The likelihood of getting away from Tommy was easy; the boy next to him clearly lacked major discipline needed for the kind of chase Dream would give him, and his stamina was likely lacking, if his complaints about being tired were anything to go by. Dream could run into the nearby trees and lose him in a few short bursts of speed.
Ahead of them all, Wilbur seemed slightly trickier. He was frail in some ways, long and spindly, but there was a sharpness to his gaze, and muscle in his arms that implied he was an archer. If he had a bow in his inventory, it wouldn't matter if Dream could outpace Tommy; a good enough aim would pierce his heart, if the odds weren't in his favor.
Of course, that only mattered if Wilbur really did have a bow.
That left Techno behind him, who would be impossible to outpace. The horse he was riding was one of the finest Dream had ever seen, sharp and defined, with a regal bearing that would put kings to shame. It would catch up to him with no trouble at all, and then Techno would cut him down. Kind of anticlimactic after all the effort it took to escape.
He sighed. Wilbur perked up.
"Something the matter, Dream?"
He tried to put on a smile, but it felt weak on his face. He really needed that mask. "Just… getting used to being free. It's kind of strange, you know?"
Wilbur's expression softened. "Of course, I understand completely. It must have been very hard for you to live under the thumb of such tyranny."
Dream's smile twisted into a grimace, and he turned away to avoid Wilbur's gaze and his sorry sympathies. The prince didn't know a thing about tyranny, didn't know a thing about Dream. And Dream wasn't going to tell him. He knew better.
XD's mark grinned wide on the back of his hand.
Any reasonable person would want him dead, rather than risk the end of the world. And he didn't blame them, even if he would really rather live long enough to see his twenty-second birthday.
He would just have to wait for a better opportunity. Weigh his options a little. Eventually they would slip up long enough for him to make his escape, and then he'd be gone. Finally, truly free.
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"Have you ever fought a giant spider?"
"No."
"Have you ever fought a skeleton?"
"No."
"Have you ever fought a dragon?"
"No." Dream groaned, and turned to glare at Wilbur's youngest brother. "When would I have ever fought a dragon? You know they're extinct. Aren't princes supposed to get fancy lessons or something?"
"They can't all be right." Tommy grumbled. He kicked a pebble off the path, and Wilbur fought the urge to scold him over proper decorum; their guest needed to see them at their best. But even if Tommy couldn't maintain proper image, Wilbur could, so he would do his best to pick up the slack.
"Even if they were around," Techno said. His horse- Carl- trotted forward to walk beside Dream, and Techno peered down at him with amusement. "Its not likely he would have faced one and lived to talk about it. They're supposed to be pretty strong guys."
Dream scowled. "And you would do so much better?"
"Now I didn't say that."
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box-architecture · 9 months ago
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which are the aus You have more on your ming latetly?
A mixture of them!
I'm staring at the Dreambur AU I have (Strangers Vassal) and wondering if I should post what I had planned for it to look like. I'm struggling a lot with writing it, partially because I don't have a lot of people to bounce ideas off of, partially because it's an AU that would have a lot of fight scenes, something I don't have a lot of experience in and am unsure how to proceed with.
I really enjoy the concept of it, and I want to write for it, but it might once again turn into a bunch of shortfics in a series rather than the longfic I originally wanted. It's disappointing that I can't seem to consistently write longfics, but if I don't accept the limitation I might risk not getting anything done at all, and that's potentially more disappointing.
The Communication Knife AU is almost always on my mind. It's evolved from just pure demons and rotations to being a huge comfort that I can just idly think about throughout the day.
It's really neat, because I started out as a Dream-centric multishipper who wasn't sure if I could vibe with Punz and Sam closing the triangle, but after marinating in the idea, it's now really important to me that they become something too. They grow from two people fighting around their relationship with Dream to something based on trust and blunt honesty and Forgiveness Withoit Forgetting. They can be deeply affectionate with each other in a way thats different from their relationship with Dream. Not bad, not in a way that excludes him, just different.
The AU has also tentatively opened me up to exploring 2nd Gen characters, something I've literally never been capable of before. I have a lot of vague ideas for who gets together post-main story, and how those relationships works and why. Ponk/Foolish/XD is a ship for example, and I've designed a possible child for them? As well as designed Fooshs Totem children? It's always a maybe for if I actually want to give people kids, and it's not really the point of CKAU, it's just really fun to explore the rest of the smp in this sort of fix-it au and how it impacts their lives in the After of it all.
It's also helped me expand my Minecraft Lore and Worldbuilding Bible (how in my headcanon the mineacraft world works and its history/lore, including tying other media's like Hermitcraft and Maricraft to the dsmp to make everything part of the overall world.)
Writing CKAU post-story had also, ironically, made me enjoy benchtrio more, as I get to talk to my friends about their interpersonal dynamics and how they work and how they end up finally at peace. Especially considering Tubbo and Ranboo are bitterly divorced for a long time.
I had a lot of small ideas for a DNB Mass Effect AU in a similar vein to To Tear Asunder being my Dragon Age AU, but I feel really guilty getting into that when I haven't even finished the Philza fic or the Techno fic I have for the latter. I have significantly less people to bounce ideas off of for To Tear Asunder, which is why I struggle with it sometimes.
A lot of my writing in the beginning was done through utilizing my manic moods, but now that I'm better medicated/no longer constantly manic, it's led to me going a lot slower with writing. Demons (PWP stuff) are a lot easier to write, because they require significantly less scene set-up when I can use the sexual act as a template, and being horny-brained isn't particularly difficult.
(Also. No Plot Nessecary. Hence the Porn Without Plot. Plot is really exhausting to write sometimes.)
Obviously it's a lot better for my health that I'm no longer manic, but it's still disappointing that I can no longer work myself into a tizzy and write 30 pages of something (before collapsing and being unable to do anything at all for the next several days.) Give and take and all.
I briefly was very insane about Benchtrio fucking Dream in various ways. I made a whole Teacher/Student AU about it that's in my drafts, god willing I get my new laptop and can finish that up. I really enjoy CNC and bodice ripper type stuff, so it's pretty fun to explore crack AUs where Dream is just trying to be normal and the 3 most abnormal people in the world come into his life.
I'm not really a fan of the Tommy/Dream dynamic where Dream is preying on the Poor Helpless Child, especially because it has a habit of taking itself Very Seriously. I'm not looking for serious and dark and the villainization of Dream. It's a lot more fun for me to explore a strong, confident, and very tired 20-something desperately trying to figure out how to deal with the 17-18 year old being horny on main. Also it's just really interesting to me when the younger character takes advantage of normal social and power dynamics and subvert them so they can have the older character sub.
^I'm not sure if the explanation there is perfect or makes sense but I'm always happy to try to talk more about it if you'd like.
I have a little more of the Warden Hybrid!Dream type stuff in my head that I wanted to write out, mostly just a lot of Porn With Minimal Plot for purely kink reasons. I also have a Dream/Ravager fic I'm supposed to be posting, but God only knows when I can finish it. I need zoomies.
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lesmana-enterprise-ltd · 3 months ago
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WIP | National Simographics and Lesmana Enterprise Presents : Our World, Featuring Hitomi Okada ; Reconstruction of Almanara Castle in Porto Luminoso, Tartosa
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This is Hitomi Okada,
Model, Influencer, All-year-round Traveller, and a history-arts Enthusiast.
Hitomi is no stranger to Tartosa. In fact, she travels to Tartosa a lot for her works and leisure, not minding the 8-hours-long flights she has to take to fly from Del Sol Valley.
Today, we will be following Hitomi to visit one of Lesmana Enterprise's latest Reconstruction Project in Porto Luminoso, the Almanara Al-Tartos Castle or Almanara Castle, as how the locals refer to it.
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The Almanara Castle
Seated on top of a huge rock formation overlooking the Southern Tartosan coastline, is a Castle built in the 14th Century with an intricate Arabesque-moorish architecture, assimilated with Tartosan medieval architecture. Its beauty is a rare gem in Tartosa today, and Almanara Castle is currently the only one of its kind still standing in the country as a reminder of a bygone-era, of which the history books of our times refer to as the Tartosan Emirate period of 1396-1497.
In 2021, a powerful earthquake striked the coast and damaged the castle severely. In response, the Tartosan Government hired the Lesmana Enterprise to lead the reconstruction effort of the castle to restore it to its former glory.
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Accompanying Hitomi Today
Are some of the best minds Lesmana Enterprise has hired to lead the reconstruction of this one-of-a-kind castle. Greeting Hitomi by the ornate gate towards the castle courtyard, are Felipe Cardona, a Lesmana Enterprise Head Reconstruction Engineer that had been working with the reconstruction of the castle since its beginning in 2021 and ; Sabrina Abdul-Zayed, a professional Archeologist from the prestigious Al-Simhara University Faculty of Archeology who had been flying back and forth to and from both countries to oversee the reconstruction of Almanara Castle.
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A Heavenly Courtyard
Hitomi follows Ms. Abdul-Zayed to the picturesque courtyard where time seems to stop - the impeccable work of the engineers, craftspeople, and historians seems to keep this courtyard as how it was built in the 14th Century.
In the words of Ms. Abdul-Zayed:
"The original builders of this castle, the Al-Simharan sultanate builders, wanted to reimagine paradise by infusing masterwork craftsmanship and lush greeneries; I'm so grateful they left us with this"
As an Art-History enthusiast, Hitomi can't help but wonder:
"This place is so beautiful. But, if all the Tartosan Emirate structures had faded throughout history, why does this one still stand? "
Well luckily for Hitomi, her guide is a walking-talking encyclopedia of the Emirate's History, and knows the whole story of the Almanara Castle by heart.
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What Happened to the Castle? as narrated by Sabrina Abdul-Zayed of Al-Simhara University.
After the Al-Simharan Sultanate under Sultan Yusuf VI had successfully taken over Kingdom of Tartosa from Queen Isabel de Montejo in 1396 after a four-years grueling war, the Sultan appointed his son, Emir Nizar Al-Simhari to lead Tartosa as a vassal kingdom to the sultanate. Thus, the Emirate of Tartosa or Emirate of Al-Tartos was born in the same year.
After the Al-Simharan army sets off accross the sea, the Emir needed somewhere to base his court at, and a place close enough to coast to oversee the robust southern sea trade. Thus, a much-larger palace complex was built upon Porto Luminoso's hill called the Qasr Al-Zayl.
"What you're seeing now as vineyards accross the castle is where the Al-Zayl stood about 600 years ago.", She added.
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On the Final Years of the Emirate
The Emirate of Tartosa found itself at war with the western simland coalition from 1491-1496.
The Western Simland Coalition consisted of Kingdom of Henford, Kingdom of Britchester, Republic of Foxbury, Grand Duchy of Champ-les-sims, Kingdom of Windenburg, and finally the exiled Tartosan king Alfonso de Fiore XI.
The Coalition launched a full-scale invasion of the Emirate in 1491, and finally reaching Porto Luminoso in 1493, where the great 2-years siege of Al-Zayl began.
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King Alfonso de Fiore himself led the siege of Al-Zayl with an overwhelming force of about 3000 men and 200 mercenaries, accumulated from 6 different nations with the same goal in mind:
End the Emirate, restore Alfonso de Fiore, and secure the southern sea trade route- where all the gold comes from.
With brutal tactics from both sides such as naval blockades, starvations, and use of early firearms, the al-Zayl finally came down in 1495, forcing the then Emir, Emir Jabar Al-Tartozi IV to seek refuge in a much more smaller castle, the Almanara.
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On the Spring of 1496, the Almanara was finally breached, leaving the Emir and his last 100 men on the mercy of the besiegers.
He and his last loyal men were captured, and held prisoner in the Almanara until his execution in 1497 on the courtyard, which spells the end of the Tartosan Emirate.
To commemorate the victory over the Emirate, King Alfonso de Fiore XI spared Almanara due to its beauty, securing its place as a King's retreat after the war ended.
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Good Thing they Spared this Place!
Is what the three can agree. Hitomi continues the tour to some of the castle's most beautiful halls, such as the Hall of Jenane shown in above photo.
When it is complete, the Hall of Jenane will be a museum ; and a space rentable for picturesque weddings!.
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"Reconstruction of the whole castle; I can confidently say is at 90% to completion, and we can see reopening very soon around March 2025- or earlier maybe." Added Felipe Cardona.
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Into the Subterrane
You will find this beautiful Azur Sanctum, a room adorned in intricate geomerty made of the finest Lazuardi and gemstones. There is also a working subterrain fountain which had been flowing without eletricity for the past 600 years!, even the air here seems a lot cooler than the air outside!.
"You know, the Emir made his last stand here with his most loyal men-the Mamluks. Many of the Mamluks perished in this very room" said Ms. Abdul-Zayed
"Okay you do not have to scare me like that" replied Hitomi.
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And That ends our Short Trip for Today!
Don't forget to periodically check the Tartosan Board of Tourism for updates on the opening of the Almanara Castle!, experience the history for yourself ; or maybe plan an unforgettable wedding in the Hall of Jenane!.
Whichever you choose, don't forget to come here next time you're in Tartosa!.
I'm Hitomi Okada, and this is - Our World.
Sul-Sul!
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Sim Hitomi Okada by : @mellowtrait
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shiny-jr · 1 year ago
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✦ damnation [ the vizier's vassal ]
– Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.
– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.
– Characters: Kalim Al-Asim, Jamil Viper.
– Note: Please enjoy this post! Hopefully everything is okay, since I just copy and pasted from the quiz and skimmed.
– Pages: 42
– Not satisfied? Try looking here for the quiz to take it yourself and see where you end up banished!
The Diviner   |   The Vizier's Vassal   |   The Raven Retainer
Feathers. Colorful feathers tickled your nose. A woven shawl sat on your shoulders with vibrant colors and macaw feathers along the clip that held it in place above your collarbone. As your vision readjusted to the scenery, you could make out an old desert city stretching out as far as the eye could see, until it met over the horizon with the starry night sky. It was nothing like the court you were in moments ago. Instantly everything came flashing back to you, the trial, the judges, your punishment. This was your punishment. “Holy shit.” 
“Is something wrong?” 
You looked to the side, surprised to see a servant placing a tray beside you. You were on a balcony, a beautiful grand spacious terrace where the arches were decorated with ivy and walls of flowers while pillars of flames provided light and there was a large water fountain in the center. You were laying on the edge of that fountain, when you pushed yourself up and looked around. That’s when you noticed your clothes had changed too. Somehow your simple change of clothes from before had become easy-to-move-in loose trousers and a simple tunic, but with the colorful shawl over your shoulders that resembled wings. “What? What the hell?” 
“Is there something wrong with the food?” 
Food? You looked down at the tray the servant had brought, surprised to see a plate of kofta with a chalice of water. The delicious smell wafted in the air, making your mouth water and stomach grumble. How long has it been since you ate? Probably well before you were arrested. If you got food, you were expecting cold slop, not this scrumptious meal that was cooked to perfection. Instantly you snatched it up, assuring the servant, “No, no, forget it! This is fine, uh, thanks…!” 
“Very well.” They bowed their head to you, “Please, enjoy the meal, vassal.” 
Vassal? You stopped mid-bite, about to ask them about it and where you were, but they had already taken off. Well, you weren’t complaining. You had thought you were going to die, or end up in some horrible hell. This place was actually quite nice. You could feel the breeze of the cool desert air and smell the flora growing on this terrace, you heard the city below with the crackling of fire from the pillars and the running water beside you, not to mention you were eating the best food you ever tasted! If this was hell, then being banished might be the best thing that’s ever happened to you! 
“You! Jamil’s vassal!” 
There it was again. What the hell did they mean by vassal? Your cheeks were stuffed with food you had shoveled into your mouth, as you slowly and awkwardly turned around to face whoever called you. Who was Jamil? You had no idea. A little annoyed that your dinner was interrupted, you eyed the approaching stranger up and down before swallowing your food and muttering, “What do you want?”
Appearing offended at your response, the young man stomped up to you, closer so you could see him better in the dim lighting. He looks a little young, if you had to guess, you’d say the guy was no younger than eighteen. Sharp blue eyes and long thick black hair styled into a single braid, not to mention he wasn’t smiling. This was no servant judging by the expensive looking blue garbs he wore and the gold on his bronze ears that complimented his handsome face. It had to be someone of high standing. When he was right in front of you, he frowned down at you and placed his hands on his hips, “Where is Jamil? And where is my cousin?” 
You lowered your plate of food, squinting incredulously at this stranger. Who did he think he was? Jamil? Cousin? “Your cousin…? Jamil…? How should I know?” 
“You should know. As the vizier’s only vassal, you should know where Jamil is. That is your job, to serve him. Or is he slithering about in places he shouldn’t be?” As his blue eyes bore down at you, he continued his tirade, “You haven’t bowed your head or greeted me as everyone does, by saying, good day, Prince Jaseer. And you’re here slacking off while everyone else in the palace is dutifully working.” 
“I’m on a lunch break.” You mumbled in reply, tempted to snap. Wait… had he said prince…? A beautiful royal in blue wearing gold, with long black hair, who is spirited and no-nonsense, like a princess in a fantasy tale. A princess that lived in a palace just like this one, where there was a vizier and sultan–– oh fuck. How was that possible? This was like a stupid kid’s story you heard all the time! Before you could ponder on the topic, you were reminded of who was in front of you by him cleaning his throat. You immediately bowed your head sloppily, begrudgingly, as you recited the words he wanted to hear. “Good day, Prince Jaseer…” 
At your less-than-satisfactory response, he crossed his arms over his chest and replied still with that frown, “If you can’t answer my question, then there’s no use talking to you. I’ll find someone who can tell me where my cousin and Jamil are. Let it be known, I have my eye on you and your master. My cousin may be fond of you both, but I am not.” 
When you slowly lifted your head, you watched the prince storm away, likely to go find his cousin, whoever that was, and the vizier, this Jamil guy. As soon as he turned a corner, you scrunched your nose and scoffed, “Brat.” 
Wait… that meant this was a story. It was all too similar to a story that began much like: it begins on a dark night, where a dark man waits with a dark purpose. If this was that story then what were you…? Apparently working for the vizier, wearing a shawl of rainbows, and feathers… oh my god, you were the fucking parrot. As you resumed your eating you busied your mind with processing these thoughts. “At least the tax collector can’t find me here.”
All you knew was that you were in the role of his parrot, his pet. What a stupid role to end up in! In this version you hoped you were at least some sort of glorified servant! At least you weren’t dead, this was much better than that. You knew the tale of Aladdin by heart, it was a very popular story growing up. You had even envied the protagonist, a thief, for ending up with a genie and winning the love of the princess. Turns out that princess, or prince in this case, was not all that. Well, they always say to never meet your heroes. But, there was one thing that was bound to be great, no matter how much this story would change. The magic lamp that held the genie. You wanted it. Maybe if you stuck around this vizier long enough, you could take it for yourself whenever the opportunity presented itself. You had the advantage, you knew exactly what was going to happen. That genie could grant any of your wishes! It could take you home if you wanted. You could make all those judges rue the day they banished you! You could rule this world and yours! You could bathe in an endless amount of gold and cash! The possibilities were endless! 
As you finished your meal, another figure came into view. The figure of a guard, like the ones you’ve been watching patrol and march around, approached you nervously. Only when he noticed you glance at him and nod your head, did he begin speaking, “G-Good evening, vassal. The candidates, they’re ready for the vizier, he’ll be here any moment. You are the only one he trusts, everyone knows this, won’t you put in a kind word for me? I fear he’s in a foul mood, his venture to the cave in the desert didn’t end well again.” 
Candidates? Vizier? Cave in the desert? After a few seconds of the guard waiting in anticipation, you were able to connect the dots. This must’ve been a specific rendition of the story where the vizier found the Cave of Wonders in the desert but instead of using a magic machine he created to find the diamond in the rough that could enter the cave, he used his power behind the scenes and in the dark to search through prisoners and criminals and send those he thought might be worthy to die trying to enter the mystic cave. This vizier, Jamil, would no doubt be growing frustrated since he’s likely been keeping at this for so long without finding a single person that can successfully enter the cave. Jumping off your seat on the fountain after finishing your last bite of food, you looked over to the guard and smiled, “Alright, let’s go. We can’t leave the master waiting, can we?”
“Of course! Allow me to lead the way.” So you followed the meek little guard, and as you trailed after him you thought about what would happen and what would you do. The guard had said that it was a fact that the vizier trusted only you, or rather, the person who you’ve replaced. The prince didn’t notice you were not the vassal, and neither did this guard or any of the other servants, so it was likely that no one would notice unless you slipped up, not even the Vizier Jamil. Hopefully. 
You watched as the pristine halls of the palace became dark and dim the deeper you went. As the smooth walls became rugged stone lit only by lamps of fire, and the lush green plants and overpriced furniture and decorations became absent. There were also, noticeably, less people. It felt like you and the guard were the only ones as you followed them deeper into what you guessed was a dungeon where you heard chains rattling and the echoing screams of those held captive. Before you could enter the room, the guard turned to you and pleaded, 
“Please, stay here. I’m sure seeing you will give the vizier a bit of peace. He should be here any second now. I will go ahead and be sure everything is in order.” 
Before you could even protest, the guard scurried ahead to the end of the hall and not too long after, you detected footfall behind you. When you turned around, you saw what you presumed had to be the Vizier Jamil. The vizier looked sort of imposing as he appeared from the dimly lit halls, and with the flames on the wall you could just make out his appearance. A thin figure clothed in red and black robes decorated with gold, holding a golden staff that ended in the shape of a cobra’s head. Long thin hair as black as night coiled down his brown shoulders like snakes in multiple small braids and loose strands decorated with gold, and instantly his sharp gray eyes painted with eyeshadow darted over to you upon noticing your staring. He looked irked, but since you supposedly had a good relationship with him, maybe you could poke and prod without worrying about suffering any consequences. From what you recalled, the vizier’s parrot in the tales was a loud-mouthed creature with a bad temper. 
“Welcome back, oh great vizier. So, how did it go?” 
“Not a word.” The vizier hissed, sending you a glare. Yet it wasn’t threatening, it felt more… annoyed. Like when your friend was pestering you, except without the light-heartedness. At least he didn’t snap, he did have the power to command you to be put to death. Yet all he did was give you a look before his frown instantly morphed into a stoic expression in the blink of an eye, so fast that it sent you reeling.
Jamil wasted no time in walking forward, not bothering with greetings as he entered the first room of the dungeon that was dingy and dirty. Inside was the guard from before, nervously standing off to the side just across from a line of prisoners in shackles with their heads hanging low, and more guards behind them. These prisoners reminded you of yourself, but less. Now you’re free of any shackles, you’re wearing fine clothes and eating food made by the best chefs while living in the luxurious palace. To avoid being at the center of attention, you stood off to the side, leaning against a corner. Listening in could give more insight.
You watched intently, curiously, as Jamil approached the line of prisoners, scanning them all with those sharp eyes as he walked by them slowly. The men and women in rags and chains tensed when he stepped near, but kept their eyes glued to the ground. Whether it was out of respect or fear, you weren’t sure, but you watched as some of them squirmed in place or nervously glanced at him. After a minute of going down the line of a dozen or so prisoners, he stopped in his tracks and turned to face the guard who guided you. On his face was obvious disappointment. 
“You bring me the rough, but never a diamond.” That cold stare of his remained on the anxious guard, never looking away even as he commanded the others, “Take them away.” 
You purse your lips and shake your head, watching as the other guards forcefully dragged the prisoners down another hall, to a fate unknown. Poor suckers. You could hear them pleading, begging the vizier for mercy from whatever end they knew awaited them. In one rendition of the story, when the princess snuck out of the palace and gave apples to poor children, apples she had no money on her to pay for, she nearly lost her hand as punishment. It was likely that these prisoners were about to lose much more than a single hand.
The meek guard sent you a pleading look as they whispered frantically, “You said you would put in a kind word for me…!” 
Turning your attention to them, you scoffed, “I never said that. I said I would follow you.” 
“You…!” At your shrug, he directed his sights towards the vizier who was walking away, his back toward him as he seemed to be prepared to follow the guards and prisoners going elsewhere within the dungeon. “Please, my vizier.” The vizier stopped, and the words were caught in the guard’s throat until he finally forced them out with wavering uncertainty, making it sound more like a question than a statement. “... Perhaps this diamond in the rough does not exist…?” 
For a moment he paused but didn’t turn around, and quietly replied, “They’re out there.” A response with unwavering certainty. 
“But we’ve searched for months!” It appears that the guard was showing signs of frustration as well. Who knows how many prisoners they’ve interrogated and how many criminals they’ve captured in these months, all in an attempt to satisfy the vizier’s wish of finding a diamond in the rough. “I do not understand what could possibly be in that cave that could help a… a man as great as you. You are already second only to the sultan!”
“Second? Uh-oh.” You exclaimed, bracing yourself for what was to come and ignoring the guard’s growing irritation towards you. In the tale, yes the vizier worked for the sultan, he was the sultan’s most trusted advisor. But, behind the vizier’s facade of charm and loyalty, there was only a burning hate for the sultan who believed in him. The vizier wished to be the most powerful man in the kingdom, second to no one. So to be told he was second, straight to his face, would be like a slap. You watched as Jamil turned to the guard with a deep frown, and you could only whistle, “Who’s in trouble now~?” 
Jamil turned to face him fully, staring at the guard beneath him with such a disdainful gaze before questioning firmly, “Do you believe second is enough?”
Without hesitation, they nodded, the answer to them was obvious. “Yes. You were not born to be sultan, you are not of royal lineage. His Majesty, Kalim Al-Asim, was born to be sultan.” 
Kalim Al-Asim. So that was the sultan’s name. The mere mention of him was enough to tick off the vizier. He narrowed his eyes and began to speak in a quiet murmur, “Do you know that I’ve served him my entire life? From the day I was born, they dictated that I was a servant to him and they chained my entire existence so it depended on him.” Slowly he stepped forward, inching closer with every word he spat like venom. “You have no idea of the things I’ve been forced to do for him. The sacrifices I’ve made and blood that’s stained my hands, the bodies I’ve buried and times I’ve watched him be praised for his minimal efforts I can easily best.” The closer he got, the more frightened the guard appeared until he was right in front of them. “Everyone will one day learn that I am not worthy of a mere second place, I am supposed to be first. That’s why I need the lamp, and I no longer need you––!” 
Right before your eyes, you watched as Jamil swiftly struck him with the bottom of his staff and he fell backwards into a well. A seemingly bottomless well, because you heard his scream growing distant until an unsettling silence lingered. You covered your mouth in shock, but Jamil paid you no mind. It’s as if he’s done a dozen times before, as if you had witnessed all of them before. 
After a moment, he sighed and lowered his staff, regaining his composure to cover up for the anger that slipped through in that moment. Again, in a flash, he had a stoic expression as he turned to gaze at you in the corner, when he beckoned you closer with a motion of his finger. “Come here, my vassal. It’s time for a meeting with that irritating sultan.” 
Now you were on your way to meet the sultan. Kalim. You hoped he wasn’t anything like Jamil. This vizier was to be feared, but at least he didn’t seem to mind you. So you probably won’t be pushed down a well anytime soon. As you followed him when he began walking, he questioned abruptly, 
“What did you do while I was gone?” 
This wasn’t good. You weren’t here for that long before he returned, and you got the feeling that Jamil was a particularly observant fellow judging by how he glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. “That royal brat confronted me while I was eating. They’re so annoying.” 
“Ah, Prince Jaseer?” Slowly he nodded, as if agreeing with your words. Phew. You were doing alright, fitting the role just fine it seemed. “Annoying would be putting it lightly. He’s just another entitled royal born with a golden spoon in his mouth, an ignorant person who knows nothing of how the real world works.” 
“You’re telling me. The guy made me bow and recite a greeting like I was nothing but a pleb beneath him! Then he had the gall to say I was lazy! I was eating! Can’t a person like me eat in peace once in a while? I was starving!” 
By now you were in a better part of the palace, where you were once again surrounded by riches. Upon hearing your response, Jamil replied without hesitation, “You are lazy when I’m not around.” At his remark, you stared at him incredulously as he continued with zero reservations, “You are uncaring, murderous, deceitful, aggressive, cunning, and annoying.” 
Unable to help it, you snapped back in reply, beginning to rant and list off your fingers. “ME? Look in the mirror bud, you just basically described yourself! You’re cruel, immoral, narcissistic, power-hungry, sadistic, and secretly deranged! You're a two-faced, snake!” When you looked over to him, he still had that stoic expression but he rolled his eyes. Your jaw dropped. There was no way he just fucking–– 
“You used that insult, two-faced snake, two weeks ago.” Before you could add anything more to the growing pile of insults, he lightly tapped your forehead with the cobra head of his golden staff, appearing unbothered. “Come up with something else or get on my level, then you can talk back. For now, be quiet. We’re nearing where Kalim wanted to meet us. I don’t need to remind you to be on your best behavior around the sultan.” 
Rubbing your forehead, you glared at him and mumbled, “Oh, I’ll come up with something shocking, you sorry sack of––ACK!” You coughed, bending over in pain as he quickly jabbed the end of his staff against your stomach to shut you up just before a silk curtain separating the halls from a room opened up. 
“Jamil! Oh, and your vassal too! I’m so happy to see you guys! You’re just the ones I wanted to see!” 
You had to squint just to look past the stranger’s bright beaming smile. It was a young man, just a bit shorter than Jamil, yet he was dressed in finer garbs than the vizier. The bright pearly-white smile matched some of his odd white strands of hair that poked out past the silk cloth messily tied around his head, the turban he must’ve usually wore to show his high status was off to the side beside a model of the entire city. The energy in his red eyes was just as bright as his smile, but even brighter than that was the gleaming golden accessories glittering over his tawny brown complexion. Golden rings and jewels over his fingers, gold buttons stitched onto his silk clothes, even the tiniest patterns on those silk garbs looked shiny enough to be real gold. So much gold–– 
Jamil wore a charming devilish smile, but once this Kalim looked away for a second, he quickly slapped your hand as soon as you lifted it, sending you a warning glare, as if saying, do not touch. You glared right back, but as soon as Kalim returned his attention to the two of you again, he pleaded, “I could really use your help, Jamil! You’re the person I can trust the most!” 
“You have always placed your trust in me, and I’ve never failed to deliver.” He replied smoothly with a bow of his head. Damn, he was really good at lying. It was a teensy bit concerning. 
“It’s all this suitor thing with Jaseem!” Kalim exclaimed, beginning to lay down his worries, “You know I promised I would take care of my cousin before his parents passed, I promised them to help him find a wife when he got older. And now, well, he’s older! I don’t remember it being nearly this hard when I had to marry.” 
The vizier followed Kalim as he continued to rant and bemoan, stepping beside him as they stopped in front of various shelves of scrolls and books and tables of documents and knick-knacks. Meanwhile, you followed closely behind, reminding yourself not to input anything or risk gaining suspicion. Once Kalim was finished, only then did Jamil respond casually, “To be fair, your marriage didn’t last long due to… unfortunate circumstances. I’m afraid Prince Jaseer is different. He’s already met ten times the suitresses you ever did. Your standards are nowhere near as high as the prince’s.” 
“Pfft…” You slapped your hand over your mouth, going quiet as both Jamil and Kalim looked over at you. Fuck, you were in trouble now, weren’t you? 
Kalim blinked before joining in on the shameless laughter, lifting the mood substantially. “You’re right, I never had this problem. It honestly didn’t take a lot to impress me! Oh, have you eaten today? You should totally try these cheese and sauces on crackers! They’re my favorite snack right now! Here!” 
You held up your hands in defense, “Wait, a minute. Actually, maybe–– mmph!” You nearly choked as he abruptly stuffed a handful of the crunchy saltines in your mouth, and he placed his other hand to pat your back so you couldn’t step away. 
The sultan grinned as you were forced to swallow the food. That’s when he held up more, and urged, “It’s good, isn’t it? You should try more! Hey, you can even have dinner with me if you want! The more the merrier, right?” Before you could even input anything, Kalim shouted loud enough so the servants outside could hear him, “Keep the snacks coming! And make sure to have an extra seat for later! I’d like to eat dinner on the balcony tonight with Jamil’s vassal! Make sure to serve the best, most delicious dishes we have to offer!” 
“Hah, you have such a kindness that extends to everyone, don’t you, Kalim? Even to the dense little attendants.” 
You shot the vizier a glare at his not-so-subtle jab directed towards you. The only reason you didn’t say anything to his face was because you still had a mouthful of crackers that you could barely swallow without gagging. 
Clearing his throat, his soft laughter stopped as he resumed his professional attitude and he was back to business. “Now then, allow me to divine a solution to this pesky problem. As well as take care of… the work you often leave in my care. As per usual.” When you glanced at him, the moment Kalim spun on his heel to catch up with the slowly moving vizier is when you noticed the dark haired man’s annoyance that flashed for a second. “However, I will be needing access to the restricted area of the library, to look at the ancient texts of laws and such. You understand, don’t you?” 
“The restricted section? The one reserved only for me and other members of the royal family?” The young man tilted his head, appearing a bit apprehensive as he tapped his finger against his chin in thought. “I dunno, Jamil. Normally I’d let you, but I think that’s against the rules. There’s a lot of secrets hidden there.” 
“It’s necessary for us to continue.” Lifting his golden staff, he nonchalantly examined its enchanting ruby red eyes before his fingers slid across the smooth golden surface and he turned it so the cobra head was gazing right at the sultan. A slight sly smile grew on his face as he hummed, “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” 
You watched with intrigued, both fascinated and horrified as he pressed the end of his staff against the ground and leaned the cobra head forwards, causing the sultan to stiffen up and go oddly silent. That’s when you realized it was happening. Jamil was using his powers to hypnotize and manipulate the sultan, just like in the stories. 
The sultan’s own red eyes mirrored the rubies of the staff, but quickly his smile dropped into a blank expression as held a staring contest with the cobra head. As if in a trance, he quietly repeated the words spoken to him. “––Everything will be fine…” 
That smile on his face grew to a smirk as the vizier repeated his request, “Permission to use the restricted area of the library?” 
“Yes, Jamil…” Kalim remained unblinking. His once bright eyes full of life were now… empty. It’s like they were covered with a mist. Slowly, robotically, he held up a blue diamond ring and spoke, “The key… Whatever you need will be fine.” 
Instantly he snatched it up, tucking the ring away safely within his robes as he thanked, “You are most gracious, my liege. Now, run along and have fun, enjoy your dinner. Hm?” 
“Yes…” 
With a swish of his cloak, Jamil began to walk away and you trailed behind him as Kalim stayed in the room, mindlessly gazing out the window. As soon as you were past the curtains and saw no one else present, Jamil’s professionalism dropped and he rolled his eyes, wearing an annoyed frown. You spat out the crackers you couldn’t swallow, it left crumbs in your mouth and salt that burned the roof of your mouth but at least now you were able to speak your mind a little more freely. “I can’t take it! If he tried to stuff one more cracker in my face, I’m was gonna––!” 
“Calm yourself, my vassal.” Jamil replied, his expression less refined and now just a resting bitch face. Turning to you, he stopped and instructed, “I will go scour that private area of the library to see what secrets it may hide. The key to our troubles may very well be hidden among those carefully guarded secrets. You will stay here.”
You gawked. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” Pressing a pointed finger against your shoulder, he continued his instructions, “Keep that halfwitted idiot busy, stay for dinner as he wants. Have a little tea party with him if it amuses him. Afterwards, I expect to see you back within my tower. I’d prefer you not stay around Kalim for longer than necessary, especially because his ignorance may rub off on you. Or has it already?” 
“Haha, yeah, sure, laugh it up. Very funny.” You scowled at his grin, watching as he turned to leave. “Have fun doing that lame boring reading! I’m gonna enjoy this time off eating until I can’t take another bite!” Once he was out of sight, you spat, “Jerk.” And promptly returned back inside beside the sultan. 
When you found him, he was still gazing out the window with those empty eyes. The hypnotic technique continued to last for a few seconds even after Jamil took his leave. However, thankfully, after waving your hand in front of his face and lightly slapping his cheeks, he was beginning to regain consciousness. “Hey, you! Kalim–– er… sultan, wake up.” 
Kalim blinked repetitively, the hazy mist in his gaze disappearing until his eyes were bright and red like polished rubies once again. As if awaking from a deep sleep, he groaned and pressed his cheek against your hand, not fully realizing what was happening until he blinked again and looked up at you. “What…? What happened? Ah, I’m sorry, I zoned out again…!” Despite realizing how close you two were, he made no effort to move. Was he that trusting or that stupid? “Where’s Jamil?” 
“He’s busy. Had to go back to work, uh… sultan.” You were a little upset that he’d leave you with this odd little ruler, but you couldn’t complain too much when you’d get to have your fill of food. 
“Ooooh, okay then! And please, you can just call me Kalim! Any friend of Jamil’s is a friend of mine.” He hummed, taking your hands as soon as you stepped away and lowered them away from his face. “I’m so happy to finally get to spend time with you! Jamil is always so hardworking and you are too! I mean, you’re always helping him, and he seems to trust you a lot and that’s saying something because he hardly trusts anyone! So I’ve never gotten to really talk this much to you until now! This is a little exciting, isn’t it? Come on!” Without warning, he began to tug you along, apparently forgetting the exchange from earlier. So he really didn’t remember that he had been hypnotized. As he dragged you along outside of the rooms and down the pristine extensive hallways, he continued, “I wanna know all about you! Our dinner should be ready by now! And what better way to get to know someone than over dinner? What kind of food do you like? What’s your favorite drink? Oh! And we can’t forget dessert!” 
Suddenly you were out on the balcony where you first gained consciousness, it was still dark out. It all happened so quickly, in a flash you were seated on a long plush chaise lounge draped with numerous pillows and blankets. In a rush, the servants came out, setting out tables and trays filled to the brim with food until you were surrounded by mounds of food that all smelled so delectable. Before you could even think of something to say, Kalim was already piling food on your plate, making it so high that it resembled a small mountain. 
“Eat as much as you want! Oh, try this! And this too! And you gotta have a little of this! Dinner is one of my favorite times of the day, because you get to relax with someone, whether it be family, a friend, or a complete stranger, and talk about anything!” 
There was so much on your plate that you almost struggled to peek over it just to see the face of the sultan. Yeah you wanted food, but this was too much even for you… As the young man explained what dish was what, you glanced behind your shoulder at the servants transporting trays and pitchers. Your eyes narrowed, but you pretended to pay attention to the sultan by nodding at whatever he said, as you watched out of the corner of your eye. One servant carrying another silver tray, leaned forward to place it on the table, while his other arm was folded at his midsection. His body had been covering your view of the pitcher, but once he stepped back and began to walk away, you noticed the liquid fizzing for a moment and became an odd color before the solution dissolved to blend in with the beverage. That substance he slipped into the drink… was he trying to poison the sultan?
Your eyes followed the servant as he turned on his heel and began to retreat towards the kitchen. Narrowing your gaze, you interrupted Kalim while he was going on about some story of him having dinner with other royals, when you blurted out, “Hey, you.” 
It went quiet, the sultan appeared confused and leaning over to get a better look at what you were glaring at while all the servants froze in their tracks. 
“Yeah, you with the stupid face and red sash. I’m talking to you. What the hell were you slipping in that drink? You sure have guts to be doing that in front of me. Either that or you're brain-dead.” 
Everyone tensed up at your implication, the guards nearby honing in on the servant with the red sash around their waist. Immediately they had them restrained, one of the head guards ripped off his sash to remove a suspicious vial with some liquid still left in it. Despite the servant’s panicked squirming in the hold of the soldiers, the head guard turned towards the sultan, holding up the vial and nodding in affirmation, “Your Majesty, it is poison…” 
“Again?” Kalim sighed somberly, slowly gripping onto your sleeve. 
Again? What the hell did he mean by again? How many times did this usually happen? As if on cue, the remaining servants rushed in to remove all the food that had been brought. Now, they would have to double check everything to make sure nothing else was poisoned. Without even being told, the armored men escorted away the frightened servant that had failed to harm the sultan. Instantly the area was cleared, save for extra guards further away but still close enough to watch. 
After a few seconds, the realization of something appeared to dawn on the sultan’s face as he gripped your sleeve tighter and peered up at you with wide sparkling red eyes. “You… You saved me! I knew it! You are trustworthy! Wait, what am I talking about? Of course you’re trustworthy, Jamil trusts you, but this just confirms it! I might’ve been poisoned if you hadn’t said anything! You are a good person, just like I thought! You see, I’m a great judge of character so I knew that you were good from the moment I met you!” 
You resisted the urge to laugh at his choice of words about you being a good person. At first you thought of letting it happen, but if the sultan were to die now, that would rush things along. Prince Jaseer would inherit the throne if he gets married quick enough, and then he would definitely get rid of you and Jamil. Then, you’d be poor and powerless on the streets, or worse, dead. So what did you do? Call out the servant, duh. “It’s nothing, really.” 
Shaking his head in refusal, he continued to insist, “But it is something! Don’t be so modest. Everyone should know of what you did for me tonight! The whole kingdom deserves to know! You deserve a reward! If you need anything, just say it, and it's yours! Anything at all!” 
You couldn’t help but scoff, rolling your eyes as a semi-amused smile appeared on your face, “Don’t say that, I’m going to make you regret it.” You’d definitely rob him blind if you could. He would be such an easy target too, like stealing candy from a baby, if he wasn’t always being watched by a troop of guards twenty-four-seven. 
For a moment he was quiet, his red eyes analyzing your smile with surprise before he broke out into the brightest beaming expression that nearly made you shriek from being blinded. “But I mean it! I really do!” As his hands gripped your arm a little tighter, he noticed your colorful shawl. Curious, he began to trace his fingers across the woven shapes, entranced by the colors as he murmured in awe, “Woah, I really like your shawl. The feathers are pretty, and I love the colors! I think I might want something styled like that.” 
He was actually… strangely casual for a guy that was nearly poisoned. Then again, maybe it was a common thing for him. He was the most powerful man in the entire kingdom. “You like it that much?” You watched as he quickly nodded, to which you plucked one of the five long red feathers beside the clip of the shawl. Its red faded into blue, with one edge even tinted with the tiniest bit of yellow and green. “It’s the only thing keeping me from freezing right now, so I can only give you this. That way you can show it to your tailors or stylists or whatever you rich people have, and they know what you want.” It was totally not to distract him and get the sultan off your back so he’d let go of your arm. 
Kalim’s eyes widened as he swiftly reached out and gingerly took the feather in his hands. Those eyes of his looked at the feather with wonder, as if it was worth more than rubies or gold. Turning his wonder-filled expression up at you, he looked so joyful as he leaned forward and spoke, “Thank you…! I love it!” Then, his expression flattened a bit to a more solemn look as he glanced down at the feather he held tightly and back to you. His voice got even quieter so as to not be heard by anyone that may be in the halls nearby. “Since I trust you… can I tell you a secret…?” 
You deadpanned, turning your attention away to the scenery. “No.” 
“Whew, okay, here it goes…” Focusing on the feather, he quickly forced out, “I’ve never gotten a gift like this before…! There. I said it!” 
In that moment you stopped to squint at him, not believing a word he said. “Wait a second, you’re kidding, right? I mean, you’re sultan. You live in a giant palace, you have countless servants and soldiers, your kingdom is one of the most powerful and prosperous! Don’t lie to me, I bet you have people lining up to give you gifts everyday! Gifts of gold, jewels, all that fancy expensive stuff!” 
“I’m not lying! All of that is true, but… this gift is special!” Kalim immediately replied, only gripping the feather tighter as he explained, “I think gifts given on the spot, out of the goodwill of your heart, are way more valuable. Yeah, I get a lot of gifts, and I’m thankful! But it’s not the same! I will treasure this feather because it’s from you, and your kindness!” Eventually his gaze traveled down to your shawl, he was shivering a bit from the cold desert winds. Looking back up at you, then your shawl, then you again, it’s as if he was trying to convey something. “I-It’s getting a little cold, aha… Can I…?” 
Frowning, you flopped back onto the soft cushions, your fingers gripping the very edges of the shawl. “This is the one thing that’s mine. No, you can’t have it.” 
“Haha, I wasn’t asking for it! Don’t worry, I’ll definitely be asking my tailors to make me one like yours so we can match! I meant I wanted to share it with you right now!” With zero hesitation, he flopped down beside you. He was close, so incredibly close, enough that you could feel his body warmth and he could probably feel yours. It did not help that when you tried to inch away, he took the initiative to snuggle closer, draping the ends of your shawl around himself as he continued to hold the feather you gifted him. 
When he was right up against you and gazed up at you with those bright eyes and always happy smile, you scowled and muttered, “What’s with you? You got a problem, princey?” 
Without missing a beat, he responded casually. “I’m not a prince, that would technically be my cousin! I’m a sultan! Although I was a prince before, but not anymore.” 
“That’s not what I–– nevermind.” You tried to ignore him for your own good. You couldn’t exactly get away with hurting the sultan, no matter how much you wanted to take a swing. Well, it wasn’t all bad was it? This meant you were on his good side, right? 
As you glanced back at him, you could feel him beside you. Shoulder-to-shoulder, as he gazed up at the stars, looking up at the endless night sky with twinkling eyes. “This is great! I rarely ever have company like this. I mean, I always have company but like–– company that I can just relax with, you know? Oh, look up there, at those stars––!” 
At this point you weren’t really focused on the sultan or what he was saying. Actually, you were focused on something just past him, past the stone curved ends of the balcony where you could see the rest of the city and part of the palace. That's when you made out a figure, like a small ant against the vast backdrop, running fast. They moved quickly, jumping over obstacles and climbing walls like an acrobat, as if it came natural to them, all while avoiding the lights of torches and staying in the shadows. They were dressed in rags too, like a peasant. Like… a thief. 
“––Anyways, that’s the story behind my favorite constellation! What about yours? Do you have a favorite?” 
“OH MY GOD––” Your eyes widened as the realization struck. The thief, they were the protagonist! The protagonist was making their move!
The sultan appeared startled at your sudden exclamation, but his shock quickly turned to a smile as he laughed, “Did you like the story that much? I like it too! Let me think of another one to tell you about!” 
Immediately pushing him away, you sat up and scrambled to get off the chair, “Welp, this is getting weird. And I have to go report back to Jamil! Damn, you know how it is, with work and all. You get it, don’t you? Yeah, of course you do!” Brushing yourself off, you bolted just as the sultan was sitting up and looking bewildered at your odd reaction. “Okay, I’m gonna go before you can say anything, m’kay, bye!” 
“W-Wait!” 
Nope. Not waiting. You ran, not even sure how to reach the vizier because you had no idea where his main quarters were, so you disguised your lack of knowledge as questions such as looking for his extra robes or even where the vizier himself was currently at, demanding answers along the way from unsuspecting servants until they pointed you in the direction. You had to hurry, you had to point out the thief so Jamil could use him and lure him to the lamp. Once he got the lamp, you’d take over from there, you’d come up with a plan eventually. Just not right now, not when you were rushing to make it back to inform the advisor of the intruder as quickly as possible. You climbed the spiraling staircases to one of the towers where the vizier’s quarters were located. 
As soon as you threw open the doors, you found him looking over a tome. However, as soon as you entered, he turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow as you heaved for a breath while you slammed the door shut behind you and leaned your weight against the wooden surface. You exclaimed breathlessly, “Thief!! Thief in the palace!” 
“Thief in the palace?” Jamil parroted, looking even more perplexed as he narrowed his eyes at you and you pointed to his open balcony that overlooked part of the city and part of the palace. 
Stumbling over to the balcony, you leaned your weight on the stone edges, letting the cool desert air fan your face. Quietly you mumbled, “That’s what I said. Catch up, or are you deaf?” When Jamil joined you at the balcony, he stood straight and tall as his dark eyes gazed out into the night. 
There, shrouded in the shadows, was the thief moving nimbly on rooftops and wooden pergolas covered in vines. They moved so quietly and effortlessly, going unnoticed even by the armored guards on patrol just below them. Finally, they disappeared into a hall, where there would only be servants cleaning and handling chores to keep the palace pristine. For once he finally appeared pleased, content, as he glanced at you and instructed, “Have the guards extend an invitation to our intruding guest. I will be escorting them to the cave. And you, my vassal?” 
You? As much as you wanted to go, it wasn’t like you could go into the cave yourself. You also couldn’t reveal that you knew that this thief was the diamond in the rough that the vizier had spent months searching for. No matter how much you wanted that lamp now, you couldn’t risk changing the plot. It was probably better to stay here until the thief would come back with the lamp, genie, with riches and a new name. While they would be busy with wooing the prince, that would be your opportunity to strike. “I’ll stay, keep Prince Jaseer and Kalim off your back if they come asking.” When you noticed Jamil’s attention still on you, you clarified smoothly, “I don’t wanna watch another failure with the cave going up in smoke.” 
“Quit being so pessimistic. This is the one.” He scolded, immediately turning to walk away. However, not before leaving another command to follow. “Go, make yourself useful and inform the guards immediately. I’ll be preparing to leave with the thief.” 
Rolling your eyes, you stood up and prepared yourself to rush down the steps and inform the guards. At the very least, you could get some well-earned rest once he left. “As you wish, your rottenness.”  ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧
“(Y/n)?” 
Your peaceful slumber in the vizier’s quarters was disturbed. On the lounge on the balcony you lay, eyes groggily blinking open only to be met with a familiar face leaning over you. You blinked again for extra measure, your mind processing who you were seeing. 
“Good morning!” Kalim smiled, his head just over yours. Out of instinct you jolted upright, accidentally hitting your forehead against his. “Ow! Ah–– you’re finally awake!” The young man cheered, ignoring the pain on his forehead as you hissed and rubbed your own head where it now hurt from the brunt of the impact. 
Glaring at the sultan for waking you up from a pleasant sleep, you squinted at his bright expression while rubbing your eyes and the now sore spot on your skull. “What the hell are you doing here? How did you even find me? How did you get in here? I locked the door before I fell asleep!” 
“Oh, that? Well, when everyone found out I was looking for you, they told me that you were asleep in Jamil’s tower. Obviously I knew where that was, but when I came to find you, the door was locked! I know, I know, Jamil really likes his privacy, but I just wanted to see you and you wouldn’t open the door! So, I just had the guards use the backup key to open the door and I’ve been waiting here ever since!” 
You sat up, taking a moment to process everything. If you weren’t already squinting because of your vision not yet adjusted to the brightness of the sun from the open balcony and grogginess from your own sleep, you would’ve been squinting even more to look at his smiling face incredulously. Rubbing your tired face, you sighed, “Let me get this straight. You couldn’t wait, so you had your people basically break into the vizier’s room and for what? Just to say good morning? How long were you waiting for me to wake up? Don’t tell me you were watching me sleep.” You scoffed somewhat sarcastically.
“I wasn’t watching you! Well… kinda. I just wanted to make sure you were okay! I do owe you.” You were kidding about that last part, so his response genuinely surprised you. Before you could even think up something to say, he stopped leaning over the long lounge chair you were on and stood up to show off a new article of clothing. A colorful woven shawl, similar to yours. “Look! Isn’t it great? They finished it while I was sleeping, and now we match! The tailors sprayed it with perfume too so it even smells like jasmine!” 
Frowning as you watched him happily twirl and show off the shawl, the feather you gave him stuck to his headband, you muttered, “All I smell is bullsh––” 
“Shhhh!” Appearing incredibly content with his new shawl, he continued to chatter on happily. “I love it so much! Tell me, is this the latest fashion trend in the city? It’s been a while since I’ve gone out.” 
You replied gruffly, “I dunno, why don’t you stick your head out the window and check? I’m not your tailor. Why don’t you ask them? Or even ask to go out or something.” 
At your words, his smile faltered the tiniest bit. It turned somewhat sad, but he continued to force that cheery expression as he averted his gaze downward albeit awkwardly. “I’d love to go out! But… I’m not really allowed. I’m sultan, remember? I’m only allowed to go out during special occasions, and I’ve never been allowed to just be with everyone else past the gates. My dad used to say it was dangerous, and even now the council says it’s not a good idea.” 
Wait a moment… This could work well to your advantage. There was plenty of time before Jamil returned. It would serve as a good excuse to gain your bearing and at least a bit of knowledge on the environment past the high palace walls. Plus, you would get points with the sultan if you made him happy. Besides, being on Kalim’s good side, as annoying as he was, could work out in the end. Especially if things start to go south. It didn’t hurt to be trusted by both the first and second most powerful people in the entire kingdom. Damn you were a genius. You smiled somewhat slyly. “Who says you gotta ask?” 
“H-Huh?” For once Kalim was caught off guard as you hopped up from your spot on the lounge. Once you got up, so did he. He followed you as you stepped over to open a cabinet of clothing. “You mean, go without asking? You really mean it?” 
Kalim was sultan, he’d obviously be recognized without a disguise. But if you just covered his white hair and lower face and switched his riches to common rags, he’d be fine. Probably. Hopefully. Picking up a few handkerchiefs and scarves he could use, you pretended to reconsider, “I dunno… We’d have to sneak out and break the rules–– just kidding, let’s sneak out!” Holding up some cloaks and fabrics he could use as a hood to cover his signature white hair and to mask his lower face, your smile grew as you persuaded him further, “Come on, let’s just go for a midday stroll and snack. We’ll just let everyone think you’re spending time in the vizier’s chambers waiting for him to return or something. Just follow me, out the window, ‘round the garden, I’ll carry you over, and we’re gone.”
Those red eyes of his turned to the open balcony and view of the city on this hot summer’s day. He stood still, as if contemplating it. But it didn’t take much convincing, or that long to ponder over his decision, because like in a snap, he broke out into a grin and eagerly bobbed his head up and down. That’s when you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. 
It took a bit of tip-toeing around, but eventually you managed to get Kalim past the gates with little to no trouble. You had a few coins you snatched from Jamil’s chambers safely secured within a pocket on the inside of your shawl, along with a few knives you tucked away in various parts of your outfit but those were mostly for a last resort. You didn’t plan to go too far because you didn’t know the layout of the city well, and plus you knew there was always the chance of thieves and pickpockets skulking about. The good thing was, that thief protagonist wouldn’t be here, they’d still be in the desert and the Cave of Wonders. All you were here for was a snack and to make the sultan happy, and happy sounded like an understatement. 
The young man was practically glowing, vibrating with energy as he danced on his heels. Kalim fit in surprisingly well. Since he wasn’t tall, he didn’t stand out that much in the busy crowd. Not to mention the lack of silks and fancy garbs helped. It was a good idea you gave him that average quality material to wear. On his body he wore a casual old white tunic turned beige with age and loose-fitted orange pants, with that rainbow shawl he commissioned recently and a dark orange hood with a black cloth around his lower face to top it off. The only thing you could really see if you got close to his face, were those big red eyes just sparkling with life. 
“Stop staring at me with those big old eyes.” 
Immediately he closed his eyes. Although the black fabric concealed the lower portion of his face, you could just tell he was wearing some stupid grin by the slight crinkle appearing on the bridge of his nose and the mirth dancing in his tone. “Sorry, sorry! This is all just so exciting! What are we going to do now? Everything smells so good! Oh, what’s all that––” 
When the sultan seemed set on some shady foreign merchants selling a variety of unlabeled goods, you grabbed the back of his collar, preventing him from dashing across the busy streets and being run over by carts hauling goods or being scammed for all the cash he had, or worse. “Hold on. When was the last time you actually went out? Like, as a normal person.” 
“Oh, the last time was… the beginning of never, actually. This is my first time!” The sultan beamed. 
Kalim was a merchant’s dream, like a sitting duck susceptible to astronomical prices and greedy exchanges. But more like a golden goose instead of a sitting duck. For now, the plan was to safeguard him. He already owed you for saving his life when calling out that assassin with the poison, but there had to be a definite connection. The sultan would be your plan B, should all else fail when attempting to acquire the lamp with the vizier Jamil. If Jamil were to go down, you would betray him in a heartbeat, and turn to Kalim. However, in order for Kalim to truly believe you, the trust had to be as solid as the gold that filled his palace. 
“Of course it is. I should’ve guessed.” Resisting the urge to just drop him off at the gates and enjoy your freedom, you opted that the safest options would just be the food stalls and he would be entertained by all the happenings in the market.
And you had been right, but what you didn’t take into account was how talkative he might be. Even as he happily munched away on street food sold at various stalls and carts. “You know, it makes me sad that I can’t go out like this. This is the first time I can stand in the middle of the city, without people crowding and staring. People just walk past me as if I’m nothing–– do you know how crazy that is?” 
He was sultan, and a prince before that, so he must’ve been accustomed to everyone bowing to him as he passed. All eyes would be on him, but here? Not a single person gave a passing glance. 
Taking a bite of the skewed spiced meat and grilled vegetables you bought for yourself, you shrugged at his words before finally adding in your own two cents. “If you take away your title, you’re just a guy.” 
“Just a guy…” He murmured quietly, like he never really considered the fact that without his name and his family’s wealth, he was practically a nobody. Taking a slow and concentrated bite of his own skewer, he allowed the taste to settle before looking down at it with a sense of wonder. “This is delicious! I’ve never had the privilege of just eating food without a taste tester. I might have to bring the man who made this back to the palace with me.” 
“Don’t blow your own cover.” 
“I won’t, I won’t! It’s just…” Kalim appeared to look down thoughtfully, taking another bite. As a sultan, he was probably so pampered and protected that he never once tasted street food or walked on a dirt road before. “Today, you’ve done something truly special for me, my friend. You gave me something worth more than gold or gems, you gave me a once in a lifetime experience! These days it’s hard to trust anyone around me.” 
Pausing mid bite, you raised an eyebrow and listened attentively. Possible intel? This could be useful, good information to store in the back of your mind for a later time to utilize when it was most advantageous. 
“All the servants are loyal for the most part, but that’s because there’s rules and payment involved. Sometimes, there’s one or two among them that have tried to harm me and my family.” He continued softly, almost seriously. This wasn’t like his usual cheery demeanor and loud tone. Right now his gaze was eerily calm and he spoke quietly, just loud enough so you could hear as you stood beside him. “For a while, I was okay with it. That’s how I grew up, it was my normal. But then I got older, my parents passed on, I got married for a little while but that didn’t last. Even some of my siblings, who I thought I could trust, turned against me just to get to the throne. It seems like everyone I love is either taken away from me or turns against me.” 
In that moment, he turned to face you, gazing at you with those big red eyes.  
Softly, he pleaded, “Promise me you won’t be like that? Taken away from me or turned against me–– I don’t think I could bear it. I can’t believe I never spoke to you properly sooner than I did! We could’ve been best friends by now!” His soft hands clutched yours, as he still awkwardly held the skewer between his thumb and pointer finger. 
You began freaking out a bit when his hands moved up to your face, squishing your cheeks between his palms as he brought your face closer to his 
“I mean, you make me so happy I could just kiss you! It wouldn’t be hard.” 
There was no way you just accidentally snagged a sultan. How? You of all people! With the rotten personality and a heart so shriveled and three sizes too small that it could rival the Grinch’s own beating core. Oh this made things too easy. Kalim was now the ace hidden up your sleeve. If worse came to worse and the original plan had to be abandoned, well, certainly playing the role of the sultan’s favorite little lover wasn’t too bad. At least until you could obtain the lamp. 
Certainly while the sultan was oblivious, he wasn’t dumb. However, he was most likely no expert when it came to love, as it appeared he wasn’t the most skilled at basic interactions from his cushy palace life. It couldn’t be that hard to keep him seduced, could it? Surely if he miraculously felt attracted to you, it was possible to keep him hooked for a while, until you had the wishes you desired. 
All it took was a single kiss on his forehead, to see those ruby red eyes dazzle so brightly in the sunlight. Although his lower face was concealed by the fabric around his head, he was bound to be grinning ear-to-ear like an idiot. And wrapped around your pinky to have at your disposal. “Happy?” 
Eagerly he nodded, taking a deep breath to hold so he wouldn’t squeal with joy. What a sucker. “So so happy, my dove!” 
“My dove? Huh…” At the little nickname, you sigh and shrug, stopping yourself from rolling your eyes so as to not appear too cold toward his advances and words. “Then let’s go back now before they go looking for you. Oh, look over there, what a beautiful bracelet…” You casually remark, gesturing toward a stand across the road that sold a variety of jewelry. If you had to kiss up to a man, might as well make it all worth it by causing his pockets to hurt. But what was a bit of gold and jewelry to his pockets that ran so deep? 
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“What is that…?” The vizier demanded, glaring at you. When he returned, he was in a foul mood. It must’ve been because the story was progressing and that thief got trapped in the Cave of Wonders with the lamp, but he said nothing about it other than it’s gone. However, even when he was outraged by his recent failure, he still noticed the golden bands wrapped around your arms. 
Seeing where his gaze was directed, you lifted your arm and showed off the golden bands speckled with white diamonds and decorated with swirls within the metal itself. “Oh, this? You like? The sultan gifted them to me.” You grinned, noticing his frown deepening. Using the opportunity, you flaunted. “I think that chump has taken a liking to me ever since I saved his skin.” 
"So I heard of your heroic deed." If the vizier had laser vision, he’d be searing your bracelet into a puddle of molten metal liquid by how hard he was glaring. “Don’t lose sight of what we’re after. In the end, the lamp can provide enough wealth to put that tiny gaudy thing to shame.” 
At his words dissing the rather expensive and delicately crafted accessory, your eyes widened as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Ohhhh, I see… You’re jealous! Ha! You’re mad! Stay mad!” 
A scowl etched his way onto his features as he hissed, “You think I’m jealous…?!” Pausing, he collected himself. Or at least, he tried to. But it was probably difficult to do so with the reminder in the back of his mind that his victory was within his grasp, only to be fumbled. Taking a deep breath, he seethed, “No, I am not jealous. In fact, you’re doing me a favor by distracting that airhead and also that bratty prince in the process. So, continue. I encourage you, but remember who your efforts are for. Now, there has to be another way to find another person worthy to go into that cave…” 
Scoffing, you readjusted the bracelet over your arm. Such a shiny thing that would’ve cost a small fortune back home. “Don’t worry, even though you’re a despicable serpent, you’re still my favorite.” Whether that was true or not, it was best to stay in his good graces. “I heard what happened from the few guards you took with you… it’ll be fine. The lamp is gotta still be there under all that sand.”
Ignoring your words, he still paused when he heard them, but he didn’t acknowledge them in the slightest. In fact, he only gave a command without so much as a glance in your direction. “Go get me my tome from that shelf.” 
Offering a smile without the pretentiousness, you went over to the shelf and picked the heavy tome he required. Almost everyday he seemed to read from this thing. “Okay, master, I’ll get you the dark wizard daily so you can enchant yourself some bitches.”
Bringing his fingers to his head, he rubbed the bridge of his nose as if in annoyance. For a moment you thought he might snap, but instead he only muttered, “I already have one that talks day in and day out, endlessly bothering me to no end. I do not need another one of you.” 
“Haha–– Wait, what?” 
That cold expression didn’t change, until his eyes wandered down to your arm. And as he continued speaking slowly, he grabbed your wrist within his hand. He removed the golden bracelets Kalim had bought for you in the market. Those golden bands were eventually in his hands. At their brilliant shine, he scowled and tossed them aside. On your arms, he placed silver ones. Silver bands that curled around your arms like snakes, to replace the ones the sultan gifted you. 
“What I mean is…” Using his golden staff, he extended it outward, using the cobra head on it like a hook to turn your head towards where he was seated, directing your gaze to his eyes. Those gray eyes were hypnotizing, this was what it must’ve felt like when Kalim was met face-to-face with the cobra head on his vizier’s staff. However, there was no magic being used at the moment. “You’re mine, not Kalim’s. Do you understand?” 
You frown as he switches them, closely examining the shine of your new bracelet. “Gold is shinier than silver…” 
He sighed, irked. “Then I’ll just make sure to take a gem, as big as your greed, from the treasury and have it engraved into one heavy necklace. Now––” Seeing you grin in content at his promise for another shiny treasure, he continued from where he left off. “You are mine. My vassal. Say it back to me. Yours.”
Jamil was dead serious as he spoke, clearly not in the mood for too many jokes or teasing. And for once, you were too stunned for words to blurt out anything. Besides, it wasn’t like you could when he was so close and staring at you so intensely. 
“You… Yours?” You parrot awkwardly, wincing at the way it came out of your mouth. However, the young man still keeping you close with his staff seemed content with your response. 
Those gray eyes remained focused on you. His eyes were thin and sharp, making it look like he wore eyeliner. As cruel and cold as he could be behind that calm and polite facade, there was a mysterious charm to him. It was as enticing as it was dangerous, and yet that was how you liked most things. Curse him for that. 
It’s strange. You thought he would be more enraged about the lamp and the incident at the Cave of Wonders. However, he seemed almost calm as he gazed at you. And without his fancy garbs composed of so many layers that pooled around him, he didn’t look so intimidating. The black sleeveless shirt he wore was loose but intricately decorated, and his pants looked like flowing silk. There wasn’t even that headpiece over his hair, which made him look… normal. If that were even possible. It made you forget the fact that he was a villainous vizier, meant to eventually go mad with power and accidentally curse himself to an eternity of solitude and servitude when he finally wished to become an all-power genie. Maybe if you could steer him down that path, you could have him for yourself as a second wish-granter...
“Mine.” He confirmed, giving you a hard stare as he lowered his staff. With a hand, he guided your fingers to his long dark tresses. Most of it was loose, but some strands were in thin braids that extended all the way up to his scalp. When you delicately pinched one of the braids between your fingers, the braids tied so tightly made them look like little scales. Slowly you unravel them for him, he didn’t protest. In fact, he appeared almost relaxed. “I’ve let him take away many things from me. Too many things. And I’m not about to let him snatch you away too.” 
“Eh, he’s annoying. Silly, but annoying. You on the other hand… my boss who’s a tall, dark, and sinister ugly man.” 
His eyes watched your every movement, looking on idly as your fingers slowly untwined his braids. So casually you were touching a man who had committed unspeakable crimes, most of which you could not even begin the picture. What else had he done to defend the sultan when it was his duty? What had he done to climb the ranks and try to climb even higher to the most dangerous heights? How many souls had he sacrificed to the Cave of Wonders? How many assassins did he personally fend off? How did he punish and silence those that dare try to reveal his secrets and plans working behind the scenes without the royal family or others taking notice? 
Jamil crossed his arms, indifferent to your insult. His gaze never once left your figure as he replied smoothly. “You’re a terrible liar… If I was as ugly as you claimed, you wouldn’t be staring at me like that or touching me. Now, sit down.” He was close–– too close when he added the next words in a way that left you puzzled as to what exactly he could’ve meant. “You’ll be rewarded for recognizing my greatness, before anyone else did. But for now.” He handed you a scroll. "Read, find something useful of the lamp or the cave."
Maybe the most unnerving thing about Jamil, was his mysterious allure. The sultan you knew was cheery and laidback, the prince was spirited and independent, and the thief you would learn about in due time. But the vizier? It seemed impossible to pinpoint anything to him. One moment he was stoic and silent, the next he could be taking your banter and come up with a witty reply, and the very next second he was enraged and permanently extinguishing a life. Yet he wasn’t wildly violent nor too charming that it felt like a mask. And yet, you couldn’t distinguish was was genuine emotion from him or just acts with different intentions behind them. And that was the most concerning part about the vizier–– did he truly like you or was this some elaborate facade?
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The following day you were awoken by thumping. Staying up late to assist the vizier search through old scrolls and books, wasn’t the brightest idea. The night was a bit of a blur, as you had stayed up so late researching with him. It was a blur of printed text, bickerings and snide remarks, fingers running through hair, and intense gazes, among other things. As you awoke later in the morning to an uproar from outside and a shaking of the ground like an earthquake. Trumpets and bells served as your alarm, as you fell out of the desk you had slumped over last night, a blanket over your shoulder that you hadn’t placed. 
Outside was quite a parade that could put all festivals to shame. White stallions carrying men with banners, camels carrying drummers whose sounds vibrated in the air, bands marching in the most vibrant uniforms, dancers in fine purples like pristine peacocks. It was like a traveling circus, zoo, and party all in one. And in your dazed state, the realization arrived suddenly–– 
“That’s the thief––!” 
Instantly you ran to your own room, or rather, the old vassal’s room, to wash up and change as quickly as humanly possible. You knew this would happen eventually, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. The thief, now a princess, was here! Here, arriving with a genie masquerading as their most faithful trusted servant. The lamp, she had the lamp with her! 
Once changed, you stepped back into the vizier’s tower. There was no one there, he even cleaned up after his research session, leaving no evidence behind of his plot with the Cave of Wonders. No book, scroll, or even a page was left. Damn, he was good. In your mind there’s no doubt he’s cleaned up after other plots and murders. What a slippery cretin. 
Quickly departing from the tower, you made your way through the grand halls, past the guards and servants. Although most were entranced by the grand spectacle that princess, or rather a crook, managed to display through the streets of the city. To think all that splendor and so much more was just within reach. But just because the finish line was in sight, did not mean that it was safe. There were more ways to die here than the number of tales Scheherazade had to tell. While having the favor of the sultan and vizier was certainly both an ego boost and a benefit, it didn’t make you invincible. That could only truly happen when you finally had the lamp in hand. 
As soon as you turned a corner, you heard laughter. Immediately, you got the wind knocked out of you and went flying. Literally. You went tumbling backwards, some type of fabric draping over your face and the weight of a body crashing into yours as you collapsed on your back in an awkward angle. You were milliseconds away from screaming bloody murder and ready to tear into whoever could be blamed, but you shut your mouth and clenched your teeth shut when you heard the familiar giggling. 
The cloth, whatever it was that had been over your head and obscuring your vision, was removed. However, it wasn’t removed by a person, it moved on its own. That’s when you realized it wasn’t a piece of cloth, it was a piece of fabric, woven wool to be more specific. The wool that composed the magic flying carpet from the story. It moved like a sentient being as you blinked at it in shock, and it extended one of its tasseled yellow ends to dust you off. 
“How in the hell…?” 
“My dove! I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?” He was gasping a bit from laughing so much on that magic carpet joy ride he must’ve just been on, the adrenaline still pumping through his system from flying within the palace’s high-ceiling rooms. 
Yes, you simple-minded idiot, you hit me like a train at full speed! Is what you would’ve said if you could, but it wouldn’t do to say that aloud when others might hear and get the wrong impression. It would attract too much attention if someone was blatantly disrespectful to the sultan. “No, I’m fine––” Your backside would be aching for a whole day. God, if only there wasn't a need for formalities, you would–– “And thank you… carpet.” The thanks came out awkwardly, as you were unused to thanking carpets but it seemed like a rather harmless and curious thing. 
“This contraption that the princess has brought is wonderful! You should try it!” 
The sultan gestured to the carpet. For such a priceless magical item that was stuck in a cave for who knew how long, it was in shockingly good condition. It had vibrant blues, and yellow patterns and symbols etched onto its surface. Yeah, you were definitely gonna keep it once you were in charge. 
“You know, I really think that my cousin Jaseer will love her! You have to meet her! And well…” He awkwardly scratched his cheek, looking somewhat sheepish as he mustered up the courage to speak the next words. His cheeks grew warm when he averted his gaze. Yet after a moment, his eyes shifted back to you. Such big innocent eyes, like the rarest of rubies. Usually you would try to admire the shine in such gems, but it was impossible to not take note of the obvious adoration within his gaze. “I was thinking, maybe you would like to join me later? We’ll be holding a banquet tonight, a party to celebrate our guests. But also, I wanted to spend time with you. What do you think? Is that alright?” 
For a moment you thought about it, slightly distracted when the carpet’s tassels were brushing against your arm and it appeared to stand so close. Not that you blamed the thing. If you were trapped in the Cave of Wonders like it was for so long, you would’ve gone insane. Maybe the thing just craved company or attention. Maybe it craved freedom. 
Kalim was providing the perfect excuse. You were the distraction, while Jamil could do whatever nefarious deeds he needed to complete in order for the plot to progress. However, it was already past the tipping point. Last night within those books, there was mention of the magic carpet within the Cave of Wonders. So chances are, the vizier already knows the princess is a fraud. 
“Hm, sure. Why not?” 
“Yes! Yes!” Quickly, he took your hands, clutching them tight. His energy was contagious apparently, because the carpet who had calmed down from the flight, received this burst of energy and was spinning around you too with great speed. “You won’t regret this! We’re going to have so much fun. And don’t worry about being overwhelmed by everyone, I know it can be a lot. So I’ll have an area set up just for us, away from the party guests, okay? That way, when we’re together and want to be alone, we can retreat there. Alright?”
Somehow with that invitation, while Jaseer and the princess whose name you’ve yet to learn, let alone care for, were likely learning about each other during the festivities and going off on their own romantic flight on the magic carpet, you were keeping the sultan distracted as the vizier had other matters to handle. Even when you were certainly not elegant or charming in even the slightest sense, appealing to the bubbly young man was surprisingly easy. Perhaps it was because he already was attracted to whatever he saw within you. 
Forced to entertain his request for a dance when the music began, he pulled you back behind a curtain to avoid people seeing, much to your great relief. He had a great big smile as he spoke about various things from the happenings of his kingdom to his own personal matters. 
“Do you care if I was married?” He asked a bit nervously, looking unsure if he should have even mentioned that to you. As far as you knew, the sultan was previously married, but nothing really came of the union. For whatever reason, he was single now with no children and his wife was no longer in the picture. Some creeping suspicion conjured up the possibility that Jamil had something to do with that. 
“I do not care.” You answered honestly. Why was he even asking that like how a boy would shyly ask a girl he liked if they mind the fact that he dated somebody before? Talk about zero charm. Was the only reason he got married because of his status? Most likely. Even if he was filthy rich and powerful, maybe even elegant looking in a way, he wasn’t exactly marriage material. “Tell me anyway. Details. I want details.” 
Surprised, he blinked at you. “Me? You wanna know about that? Well, it’s not very interesting… I would say it’s a long story, but it’s really not.” He chuckled a bit dryly, absentmindedly fiddling with the ends of the curtains where they had privacy on a balcony with a wonderful view of the port where the city met the waters. “I was young, an eighteen-year-old prince. Accidents happened to most of my siblings that were my age, so I was next in line. There’s a law that states that those next in line for the throne have to be married by a certain age. My father picked her when I couldn't decide. She was a princess from the north where apparently it’s all cold and snowy. A year or so after the wedding, my father and mother passed in an accident. Then, later on, she was gone too.” 
These sort of details were never mentioned in any rendition of the story that you remembered. At least, none that you recalled. However, it had been a while since you read them, so it could just be your memory. And the fact that in those takes, the sultan was an old man. “Do you ever miss her?” 
“Hm… sometimes. I thought I would miss her more, I feel like I should miss her a lot, but… I don’t.” He admitted quietly, lounging on his stomach so his arms were folded in front of him and his cheek was resting on his arm. “Over the years, I feel like I’ve lost track of all the accidents. My brother married into the royal family of a neighboring nation and urged them to wage war on our home, my sister attempted to bribe bodyguards to do her dirty work, aunts and uncles sent assassins.” 
“Drama.” You hummed as you lay across from him, laying flat on your back instead of your stomach. 
At your casual remark he almost laughed. Maybe that was his way of processing trauma, through humor and positivity. All this betrayal and hurt was certainly enough to drive someone mad. Maybe he wasn’t completely right in the head. “Okay, this is getting depressing, so I’ll stop. But you see why I like you? Why I trust you with my life? You’re so… so… real. It doesn’t feel like you sugarcoat things, and you’re so blunt! No one ever talks to me like that. You talk to me as if I’m just a guy, and nothing else.” 
He remembered what you said that time in the market. “You are just a guy.” You repeat. And that’s all he would be. If you couldn’t get the lamp, and Jamil got his greedy hands around it first, well maybe it was worth wishing for the vizier to spare the poor sultan. Besides, he was likable. Annoying, but entertaining. “And you really shouldn’t.” Trust. He shouldn’t trust you.
“But I do!” He pushed himself up, until his head was right above yours. Those ruby red eyes gazing right down at you, his face so close to yours that his nose brushed against yours. Gold around his ears dangled, making small rings like wind chimes. Kalim peered at you so immensely, so focused, but it was a gentle tender gaze as he lowered his face closer to yours. “I trust you, so, so much…” 
It only took a few moments for things to get out of hand. Oh, it was so easy, too easy. You were no tempest, but Kalim made it simple. Like toying with a doll. So after several minutes in, you hear the familiar voice of the vizier calling you, you immediately pull away and sit up. Panic was plastered over your face at the thought of being seen by that envious viper. When Kalim sat up with you, he looked much more dazed, like a lovestruck fool. To which you immediately pushed him down and hissed. “Shit! What’s he going to say if he finds me here with the sultan?” 
Part of his white hair was messy, as the cloth he usually wore around his head fell off sometime ago. His short strands stuck out at some angles, and he didn’t bother recollecting his composure as he was still dizzy. “Lucky sultan?” 
When he gave you a stupid grin, you pushed him aside. Luckily the spot was relatively hidden by curtains, pillows, and plush blankets and carpets. “Shut up…! Just, stay here.” 
Quickly you smoothed down your appearance before exiting the area, entering the halls to search for the vizier that had called you. Apparently, the time to act was here. Mere moments ago, he had instructed his loyalest soldiers under his command to bring in the princess they had cornered. 
So by the time you arrived at the vizier’s tower, there in the open window strapped to a chair atop an elevated surface of a table was the princess. Beautiful, sure. Especially when she wore such flashy garbs of pure white and purple. Cleverly she had wrapped a cloth around her head like a shayla, hiding her hair which could’ve been a key feature used to identify her, besides her face of course which she couldn’t exactly conceal under these circumstances. Her feet and wrists were bound tightly with rope, and if her chair tipped backwards she would meet a cold end in the salty waters of the sea right below. 
There was a distinct hint of nervousness in her tone as she attempted to persuade the two guards that this had been a misunderstanding, that they must’ve had no idea who she was, you watched the pair of soldiers double-check the security of the ropes bounding her. While in walked the vizier. It seemed like he was busy while you were taking a… break. Now, if the princess was here, where was that cursed lamp? Your eyes scanned her figure, searching for pockets she might’ve had. 
“We know who you are, Aliyyah.” The vizier spoke, sounding way too casual at the moment as he walked over to his tome situated on his desk. So that was the thief’s true name.
“Aliyyah…? I don’t know who that is–– I’m Princess Alya!” 
Jamil interrupted her, as she looked increasingly anxious. “A princess from a kingdom which does not exist. And who arrived on a magic carpet told to only be obtainable from the Cave of Wonders.” 
Carpet. That’s right. The carpet and the monkey the thief owned were still somewhere within the palace. There couldn’t be any loose-ends. Not when the lamp’s location was still unknown. It could be anywhere within the palace. 
Silently stepping over to the door where two more guards were situated to look-out, you allowed the vizier and thief to continue their stand-off while you opened the door slightly to whisper to one of the additional guards. “Go to our guest’s quarters. There, you should find our visitor’s pet and that magical carpet. Do not let them leave the quarters. And do not go alone, bring multiple other soldiers if you have to, but this is to remain discreet. I don’t care what you do to the monkey, but I better not see so much as a loose piece of string on that carpet. Capeesh?”
Being the vizier’s vassal had its benefits. As they usually only ever responded to the vizier himself, but since you were known to be the wise young man’s trusted advisor, your words carried weight among the staff wielding weapons and wearing armor. So obediently, the soldier nodded and immediately went off to see that the task was done. Afterwhich, you closed the heavy wooden door shut to prevent any sound from escaping, and returned your attention back to the vizier and the thief. 
“I’m afraid you’ve worn out your welcome.” His tone was no longer so casual. There was an icy coldness to it as he stalked closer, quickly growing tired of her adamant denial. “If I throw you off of that balcony, and you are who you say you are, you will die a watery death.” 
If Jamil pushed one of his own guards into a well for even considering the action of refusing orders, well, pushing a thief turned princess off several floors into deep waters was something he wouldn’t hesitate doing. So you watched carefully as the severity of the situation was settling on the princess, as she struggled in her bonds and her seat. However, there was no lie or tricks that could get her out of this one. 
“And if you survive, it can only be because of the lamp. Now…” 
Waving off the pair of soldiers, they left, leaving only the thief, the vizier, and yourself. As the dark-haired sorcerer did the familiar movement of lifting the end of his spear so it was directly against her collarbone, the princess gulped and an ominous look came over the vizier’s face. When the princess glanced at you, you only grinned and wiggled your fingers like waving goodbye. However, when she turned to face you, that’s when your sharp eyes caught a glimpse of something sparkly in the cloth around her hair, right behind her neck. Slowly you walked closer.
“Where is the lamp?” Jamil demanded. 
“Listen,” The young woman pleaded. She was young, about your age. And surely you knew that she would die a watery death, because now you knew where the lamp was. Whatever name she went by, or whoever she was, Princess Alya of a faraway nation or the thief Aliyyah, it wouldn’t matter. “I swear to you,” Her voice wavered with uncertainty. “I am––” 
You bumped the tip of his staff, with enough pressure to tip her off the end just as you leaned forward to reach the cloth around her skull. Your grip was on the fabric, not her. So she went tumbling down multiple floors, plunging into dark brine. Her scream was cut off by the sound of a splash and the breaking of wood. The chair must’ve broken upon impact, but she went sinking down and down. The only thing preventing you from falling as well, was the curved cobra head Jamil had used like a hook around your back to secure you from falling. And in your hands, wrapped in the silk white cloth, lay what would’ve been her salvation, what was your salvation–– the lamp. 
“This is convenient. Now it’s time for you to answer the same question I asked her.” 
“What? Aren’t you going to pull me to safety?” You stared at him wide-eyed, as he practically dangled you above your doom. Yes, the lamp was in hand, but you couldn’t rub it to summon the genie. Not when your fingers were gripping it tightly so it wouldn’t fall into the waters below and risk hitting the jagged rocks, while your other hand gripped the golden staff to avoid falling, your toes just barely on the edge. Even the slightest wrong move, would send you plummeting to those sharp stones and salty waters so far below. Could you survive that fall? Maybe, if you could avoid the rocks. Which seemed like a slim chance. 
Ignoring your growing fear, he continued calmly, keeping a steady grip on his staff. A small tremble could unbalance you and make you fall. Or, he could be so cruel as to let you drop. But, you had the lamp, which might’ve been the only reason he held on. “I know who you are, criminal.” 
Down below, there was no sign of the thief emerging. The only thing that came up to the surface of the waves was a purple sash from her garbs. Something about his words was enough to tell you that he didn’t mean the role you were playing, he meant you. You who were arrested and sent here as punishment, as your own personal hell, to die for your crimes. And here you were, just as those bastard judges wanted, on the very brink of death. Literally. “You know nothing about me––” 
“I know everything about you. I know your crimes, your anger, your burning hatred for those who have wronged you. I know.” Gray eyes narrowed at you, but his hold was unwavering. You couldn’t save yourself, not in this position. You were at his mercy. Even when your heart felt like it was beating rapidly, and you were thinking a mile a minute of possible ways to get out of this situation only for each idea to end in failure. You heard his words he spoke bitterly, like they had a deeper meaning. But then he added, “I know you hide a knife in your shawl, a second in your pillowcase, and a third under your mattress because you never trusted me completely. It pains me to see you reduced to this.” 
No, he knew nothing about you. The real you, even if he thought he did. He could never imagine what it was like, the things you had done. Even if he somehow discovered the truth, that you were not his trusted vessel but acted like them, you weren't them. “You–– You don’t know me!” 
“A criminal from another world, sent into what was like a story. You thought you could trick me and everyone else. But you underestimate me. As soon as you opened your big mouth, I knew you were a fraud. What did you call me? A two-faced snake? Ironic.” 
You had called him that, while playing a role to trick him this entire time. Just as the protagonist had tried, and look where she ended up because of that. Dead. Drowned by water and salt, with a body that would either become fish food or wash ashore as an unrecognizable corpse. How did he know? There was no possible way to know! You told no one! Trusted no one!
The air was a bitter cold. Moonlight shone on his face, letting you see the royal vizier’s cunning features and how he was grinning. He was grinning at your predicament, as he held your fate in his hands. Your arm was starting to feel numb from holding on for so long, but you couldn’t let go. There was no way you would let go of the lamp or of yourself, after everything and how far you got. When glory and sweet revenge on everyone was literally in the palm of your hand.
“But you leave yourself unguarded when you sleep.” That was the answer, you realized with horror. That was how he knew way more than he should! Jamil invaded your very mind, controlling it with this very cursed staff he held you from. “They wronged you, those above you. Underestimate you. We’re more alike than you would like to verbally admit.” 
“Jamil, you––! Vile liar, son of a––” 
“That’s sorcerer to you.” He corrected you. 
That’s right–– in the story once the vizier gets a brief moment of victory, he uses his wishes to place himself atop the social hierarchy of power. First sultan, then a sorcerer, then a genie. Above a sultan: a sorcerer. But why was he skipping the sultan stage? 
The vizier turned serious, stretching out his hand that did not hold the staff. He held out the palm of his thin hand, offering a twisted grin that made your stomach weave into knots. Speaking firmly, he offered a once in a lifetime deal. And it was either accept his deal, or die for the price of what was committed. “I told you, you are mine. I meant that. I plan to be something great, much greater than that simpleton. So, once I become the most powerful man in the world, you may take the title of sultan if it’s what you wish. All you have to do is hand me the lamp, my Treasured Vassal.”
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m00na333 · 4 days ago
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Catelyn Stark, Jon Snow, and a particularly annoying fandom myth:
"Wow, if only Ned told Catelyn that Jon Snow is actually Brandon Stark's bastard/ Rhaegar and Lyanna's son, then she wouldn't have thought that he cheated and that he was a threat to her kids and we could have happy wholesome family times."
Guys. Lords and Peasants. My sweet summer children. Catelyn Stark's apprehension was justified.
First, please consider that Catelyn did not feel betrayed by Ned. They had spent one night together - purely for the purposes of securing the bloodline - before he went off to do a coup. She was aware of the fact that the man who she had only met once, who was not originally her betrothed, may do some light adultery. She expected that if he were to sire a bastard, that he would do the right thing, the noble thing, and ensure he was provided for.
She's furious that he brought his bastard home, with her trueborn children because - say it with me folks - Jon Snow does, in fact, pose a political threat to Cat's children.
Cat's uncle is a survivor of the war of the ninepenny kings, an off-shoot of a series of wars that stems from the time one guy decided his bastards should be legitimised actually. She's learnt of the dangers that come when succession is messy.
Also, consider that the North appears to view bastardry differently. many Mormont women are bastards, and they're still allowed to keep their last names. Roose has his bastard running errands for him.
Even Cat's own son is willing to disinherit his sister - her trueborn daughter - to make Jon heir to Winterfell.
And to top it all off, the bastard seems more accustomed to the north than she, or any of her own children do, when she still feels at an outcast at times. She feels ill-at-ease in the godswood, she often reflects on how strange the north's customs are. She often quibbles with her son's vassals and advisors, has to at one point reassert that she was Ned's wife to stop them from messy, brutal revenge.
To make matters worse; Jon beats Robb during training. He has the Stark features. His direwolf is a literal avatar of the weirwoods and the religion of the old gods.
But yeah, if ned could've gotten over his darned PTSD and trauma from the time he went to war and his family was brutalised and told the woman he was sworn to but otherwise was a complete stranger:
''oh yeah, he's not a threat to our children at all. He's actually the bastard son of my brother who was supposed to inherit Winterfell instead of me and many factions would prefer/Yeah he's the rightful heir and son of the guy who the king just brutally slaughtered and who's family was also murdered. But don't worry, we have no reason at all to worry. We're perfectly safe."
Besides, Cat is prejudiced. She's the archetypal Westerosi noble-woman. She's judgemental towards Mya Stone and Brienne of Tarth. She still genuinely puts her faith in guest right and the words of lords. She's courteous and wise.
People seem to forget that Cat and Jon are the main introductions to the political semi-feudal structure. From a doylist perspective, Cat is judgemental and vicious because the class system is brutal and unfair.
But I can't justify her actual treatment of Jon, and you shouldn't either.
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eilinelsghost · 10 months ago
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One thing I can't escape in wrangling with Finrod's complex relationship with the Edain (especially as it is worked out in Atandil, but also generally in the text of the Silmarillion) is how the heart of Tolkien's vision for Elves and the relationship between the First and Secondborn Children can be traced throughout his story, specifically as relates to the First House of the Edain.
Tolkien outlines his general thoughts behind the Elves and their place in Arda in his letter to Milton Waldman where he says:
“The doom of the Elves is to be immortal, to love the beauty of the world, to bring it to full flower with their gifts of delicacy and perfection, to last while it lasts, never leaving it even when ‘slain’, but returning – and yet, when the Followers come, to teach them, and make way for them, to ‘fade’ as the Followers grow and absorb the life from which both proceed.”
Letter 131 to Milton Waldman
The "purpose" of the Elves, then, is to love and lift up the Secondborn and then to hand the world on to them.
In Finrod, we see this from the moment he meets Men in Ossiriand. We are told that he sees them and at once "love for them stir[s] in his heart." He loves them exactly as he finds them, before any interaction with or influence over them. They—the new, the stranger, the unknown other—are lovely and beloved in their difference, fellow Eruhíni in the darkness of Arda Marred.
And from that point onward, he works consistently as a mediator to establish peace and friendship between the various Elven peoples and Men.
He teaches them, yes—in Ossiriand and presumably after as they begin to integrate with Elven settlements—but he is also eager to learn from them as well. We are told this in the intro to the Athrabeth, but more importantly we are shown this throughout the text of that same chapter. He enters the conversation with one mindset and understanding, then leaves the conversation having changed his entire understanding of Arda and its future based solely on what Andreth has taught him of humans' philosophy of their own embodiment. Together they wrangle through the pitfalls of each's position and it is their combined knowledge and understanding which brings about the hope at the end of their conversation.
Finrod embraces this mutual work and discovery and holds to the new-found hope at once. "Await us there," he says in closing, both asserting that he has changed his understanding based on Andreth's words and also placing himself in a position of dependency. It is humans whose nature could bring about this hope of Arda Remade and he does not hesitate a moment in embracing that they, the Followers, would then be "the lordly ones." And he does this with joy and eager anticipation.
The clearest example of how he embodies this vision is also the broadest: his relationship with the Edain begins with Balan—Bëor, the Vassal—and culminates with his oath to Barahir and his sacrifice and death on behalf of Barahir's son. He marks this oath with the crest of his own house, which then shifts from the Ring of Felagund to the Ring of Barahir, by which name it is known for the duration of Middle-earth's history.
Within the brief 155 years that Finrod operated in relationship with Men, the First House of the Edain moves from wanderers to Vassals to Heirs.
And thus Finrod is embodying that very purpose which Tolkien outlined as the doom of the Elves: he prepares the way for the Followers, he willingly fades before them, and he passes the world (his life, his own crest/birthright) freely to their keeping.
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kurithedweeb · 9 months ago
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An idea I had last night: Jacob survives.
So, instead of the amulet just making everyone drop dead, we're going with the curse being a plague. (Thank you @irenes-journal for turning the plague amulet idea into what it is today.)
In canon, the amulet kills everyone save the person holding it, so the plague amulet would theoretically grant one person immunity, or at least resistance. How it grants some kind of immunity/resistance is by releasing antibodies for the plague, slowly at first to acclimatize the body a bit before it floods the system, and Jacob got some of the antibodies before he gave it to Aaron.
He was the first to fall ill, and he took twice as long to succumb to the illness than anyone else infected did. The town doctor died before Jacob did, so when he fell into a coma that looked a whole lot like death, he was mistaken for dead.
Lily was barely holding on herself at this point, and Aaron came back from burying the day's dead to find his wife and son dead in Jacob's room. Lily worshipped Menphia and some minor gods, being from Tu'la, and raised Jacob to do the same since Aaron's side of the family doesn't worship any recognized religion (Ultima stuff is for later), and there was a small tomb previously made for when Lily and her children died according to Tu'lan burial practices. Which gives Jacob some more time than he'd have in a grave to get out before he runs out of air.
Aaron goes on burying bodies and surveying the sick while he mourns his own family's loss. Jacob wakes up maybe a day or two later in the dark with what remains of Lily. Obviously, he freaks out, crying out for help, and no one comes. Fueled by adrenalin and fear, he manages to open the tomb door just enough for him to squeeze through, and he finds the streets covered in graves. He has no idea what's going on, no clue how long it's been, but he runs home and his dad's not there and all the streets he's run down are empty and stinking of rot. He needs his dad to not be dead, so he comes up with this idea that obviously Aaron thought he was dead like everyone else and left.
And so Jacob packs a bag and sets out to leave Falconclaw, and he leaves barely an hour before Aaron gets home. They just miss each other.
Jacob isn't well. He collapses on the road and wakes up in a merchant caravan bound for some village way North. He asks if any of them have seen his father, says he's the son of the Lord of Falconclaw, and one of the mercenaries hired to guard the caravan sees an opportunity. By the time the caravan reaches its destination, Aaron is already in O'khasis being groomed by Zane to become a Juror.
Jacob is snatched off the street by the same mercenaries who were guarding the caravan and sold to someone visiting from Tu'la, and he winds up a servant boy for one of the king's vassal clans. Maybe Nana's, maybe the one his mother escaped from. The plague left him incredibly scarred, so for a long time he's a faceless, bandaged figure in the shadows of the house, all this anger and frustration building up inside him at not being able to figure out a way home, until one day the master of the house thinks it'd be funny to match a servant boy against one of his soldier-apprentices.
And Jacob wins. No training, having thrown away his weapon and beaten the other boy with his bare hands until they were dripping in blood. He's sent to the gladiator pits, maybe the same ones Liochant grew up in, and as long as he has his anger he dominates. His contract is bought by some wealthy noble with a penchant for collecting pretty, broken things, and on the road he kills them and flees into the night.
By the time he gets back to O'khasis, Aaron's time on the Jury is over and he's disappeared completely, having forsaken his own name and become The Stranger. This is when Jacob finally hears about, finally confirms, the fall of Falconclaw. He goes to Zianna, waiting for her to be out in town before he approaches her. She and his mother considered themselves sisters, once, and Zianna had been an excellent spy in Tu'la, if anyone would help him it'd be her. All Zianna has to give him is rumors, but anything is better than nothing.
He takes it, he thanks her, he goes on the road trying to find his father, and gets waylaid a bunch on the way by saving people and taking out the mercenary company that sold him to that Tu'lan visitor and into years of servitude and gladiator rings. He had a number of names in Tu'la, but he goes back to the name from a lifetime ago, introducing himself everywhere he goes as Jacob Lycan, son of Aaron Lycan, last Lord of Falconclaw, in an effort to see if his father will be drawn to the man using his son's name. By the time he makes it all the way around to Phoenix Drop, it's the middle of the Irene Dimension time skip, and since no one knew who The Stranger was or ever really saw his face, they don't realize that that's exactly who Jacob is looking for.
He goes back to Falconclaw, thinking maybe he can find some clues where this all started. It's practically the same as he left it since everyone thinks the land is extremely cursed, and in looking through their home he finds books on the teaching of his father's faith. He fits his father's old clothes, his old faith. He takes whatever he cares to keep from the Lycan estate and visits Lily's tomb before he leaves, and not a day later he comes across Abby, who's taken to the road hoping to find a lead on the woman she believes killed her father, Lady Katelyn the Firefist, who disappeared without a trace years ago about the same time High Priest Zane Ro'Meave and a few other Jurors did. She and Jacob agree to help each other and become good friends, and eventually they round back to Phoenix Drop.
A week after Aaron died.
Jacob introduces Abby first, notes that the Lord, or maybe she's the Lord's mother, seems to know who Abby is, and then he introduces himself. As Jacob Lycan, son of Aaron Lycan, last Lord of Falconclaw. And the look on this Lord's face is indescribable. She asks to speak with Jacob alone.
She tells him about his father in the last part of his life. She tells him how he saved her several times, taught her to fight, saved her guards, those two over there. That one he sacrificed himself for just last week, when he saved the man from another realm and finally got vengeance for his family and village. How he once said that when his journey was done, when he had taken the life of the man who cursed them all, he would finally be at peace with his wife and son.
Then there's a child's cry, and suddenly Jacob is being introduced to two little girls who his father helped raise. To his sisters.
He can't even process it properly before he hears Abby scream, and suddenly he is running to pull her off a blue-haired woman and holding her, thrashing and spitting vitriol, yelling how she thought of Katelyn like her mother, as Katelyn explains what really happened that day, and everything Abby has been keeping inside her for years spills out in wave after wave of tears. She clings to Jacob, and he finds himself crying too. If only they had known the truth earlier.
If they'd only learned the truth earlier, Abby wouldn't have spent so long hating an innocent woman she once adored, and Jacob could have seen his father again. Maybe if he'd known Aaron was The Stranger, if he'd known to wait in Phoenix Drop, Aaron would be alive. He would have had his son to live for.
They can't make themselves stay there once they know the truth. They're not ready. Abby tells Katelyn she'll be back to catch up later, and Jacob tells the Lord he'd like to meet his sisters another time, and with Jacob's quest over they go to hunt the Jury of Nine for Jeffory Goldenheart.
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fonsmortem · 1 year ago
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Bloody Baron | Phillip Strenger
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❛ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ. ᴮᵘᵗ ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒᵒ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ❜
❝…The local peasantry anointed him the "Bloody Baron," a clear indication that he did not handle his vassals with kid gloves. On the other hand, he proved a surprisingly gracious host to an unexpected guest who was also a stranger and a hired monster slayer.
His treatment of children and young women, towards whom he demonstrated wholly sincere, near fatherly-concern, likewise contradicted his bandit-like appearance and terrifying monicker. Ciri had learned this for herself, finding care and shelter under his roof…❞
✥The Witcher 3, Journal entry one of the most "alive" art that I have painted, I love story of this character
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corduroyserpent · 2 years ago
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The days blend together beneath Mount Tonglu. Time stretches and bends, one day feeling like a week feeling like a shichen feeling like a year. Nothing changes. Aside from Mei Nianqing’s daily visits, there is only Jun Wu in the dark with his thoughts.
Which is why he notices immediately when something changes.
He does not often sleep, preferring meditation, but he will sometimes slip into unconsciousness without realizing. Only after having jolted awake, reaching fruitlessly for a sword he no longer has, will he remember where he is and why he’s alone. It’s familiar. He’s used to it.
It’s different today. He struggles into wakefulness, eyes refusing to open despite how he wills them to. And he is no stranger to pain—the faces of his old vassals act up often enough, making his head ache and jaw pound—but this is something else entirely. He feels weak. And he can barely breathe through his nose and his blood seems to be boiling. Eyes still closed, he pulls at his collar in an attempt to bare some skin. It’s too hot, he’s too—
“Hold on,” Mei Nianqing says. Cool hands cover his, clinically pushing them aside to help remove heavier-than-usual robes. “There we go. Is that better?”
Jun Wu cracks sore eyes open. “Tell me if I’m dying.”
“No, Your Highness.” Mei Nianqing smiles, patting Jun Wu’s arm. “You have a cold.”
“That’s impossible.” Talking hurts. It’s as if the inside of his throat has been covered in shards of glass. “I have not been sick since—”
“Two thousand years, give or take. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Your Highness. With your spiritual powers sealed, it was bound to happen sooner or later.”
Jun Wu can’t believe this. It can’t be a mere common illness that causes such suffering. It must be more serious. He pushes up onto his elbows; a sudden wave of vertigo nearly sends him crashing back to the bamboo mat below. His stomach clenches but will not be sick. Besides, he practices inedia. There’s nothing to throw up.
Mei Nianqing clicks his tongue, pushing Jun Wu to lie back down. “Your Highness, what do you think you’re doing?”
“I need to…” Jun Wu tries to clear his throat. Bad idea. “...figure out who cursed me.”
“Nobody has cursed you.”
Jun Wu finds this highly unlikely.
Mei Nianqing reaches for a nearby bowl of water. Jun Wu grabs it. Or he tries to. He thinks about it. His limbs don’t want to respond to his desires. Mei Nianqing takes pity on him and holds the bowl to his cracked lips, tilting a trickle of bitter liquid into his dry mouth. Jun Wu leans away, suspicion clouding his mind.
“Refusing to take your medicine at this age?” Mei Nianqing sighs. “Your Highness, I ground the herbs myself. There is nothing in this mixture that will do you harm.”
Mei Nianqing knows him well. But Jun Wu’s doubts are not assuaged. “You drink it, then.”
“Fine. If that’s what it takes.” Mei Nianqing takes a sip and, holding the medicinal liquid in his mouth, leans down to kiss Jun Wu. Lips part, a reflex, and that awful bitterness coats Jun Wu’s tongue.
He swallows, unable to spit it out.
“There.” Mei Nianqing pulls back, one hand splayed on Jun Wu’s bare chest. His thumb rubs light circles against heated skin. “Was that so difficult?”
Jun Wu holds back the urge to cough. Giving Mei Nianqing a wan look, he asks, “Are you not worried I’m contagious?”
“Not at all.” Mei Nianqing sets the bowl aside in favor of fetching a damp cloth. He blots at Jun Wu’s face, carefully avoiding the remains of their old friends. “Besides, I am far too healthy. Your Highness, how many times have I told you about—”
“Do not mention your special tea.”
“It’s a good blend! I harvest the leaves myself. Two cups a day will keep you strong and in perfect health.”
Jun Wu flicks his eyes up, too tired to manage a full roll. What Mei Nianqing neglects to mention is that, healthy or not, the tea tastes absolutely disgusting. He is already trapped beneath a mountain, cursed shackle binding his powers. Why should he add more to this divine punishment?
“Rest.” Mei Nianqing folds the cloth and drapes it across Jun Wu’s forehead. “I will go brew us a pot.”
Jun Wu grasps his wrist. It takes no effort at all for Mei Nianqing to pull away from Jun Wu’s grip, taking his hand instead. How embarrassing. To be so weak. He hates this. And even more than his physical weakness, he hates how his heart stutters at the idea of being left alone in this state.
“Your Highness…”
“Don’t leave,” Jun Wu says. A quiet order.
Mei Nianqing squeezes his hand gently. “I will be right back.”
Jun Wu grits his teeth, the headache and the fever feel too much like when his vassals act up. For all he knows, they might be contributing to the pain. He can’t exactly see them.
Mei Nianqing looks at him for a long moment, expression softening. His free hand slides up to stroke Jun Wu’s hair. It unearths ancient memories. Those same hands, sliding through a forgotten crown prince’s damp hair, coaxing him with sweets to get him to swallow spoonfuls of medicine.
“Later,” Jun Wu nearly whispers, voice hoarse, “I will drink your terrible tea.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I will.”
Mei Nianqing considers this, a soft smile rising. “Then I suppose I can stay until you fall asleep.”
Good. The exhaustion of illness may be pervasive but Jun Wu is stubborn, and he has difficulty sleeping on a good day. “That may take a while.”
“I know.” Mei Nianqing presses a chaste kiss to Jun Wu’s temple, just shy of the compress. “Rest, Your Highness. I will not go anywhere.”
“Until I fall asleep.”
Mei Nianqing shakes his head. “Not even then. Everything else can wait.”
Jun Wu’s doubt is no small thing but he pushes it aside, looking up through tired eyes at the one man who has chosen to stay.
[also on ao3!]
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sunshine-in-a-bottle · 2 years ago
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YOU
YOU WANT FUNDYWASTAKEN WEDDING
YOU WANT FUNDY AND DREAM GETTING MARRIED EVEN AFTER THE MESS IT WAS
YOU WANT FUNDY TO BE A MAJOR CHARACTER WHO GETS TO KNOW ABOUT DREAM'S PLANS AND HAS A STORY ARC AND EVERYTHING
YOU WANT THIS
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militantinremission · 5 months ago
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What's REALLY going on in Southern California?
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Why did roughly 75,000 Home Owners mysteriously lose their Fire Insurance before this catastrophic Event, & WHY are Real Estate Investors sending offers to Folks while their Properties are STILL smoldering? What about the UFO sightings- WHAT exactly are they??? What about the Water Shortage? It's not like Gavin Newsome & Karen Bass didn't know that they already had a Water Crisis. California has been plagued w/ Wildfires for Years! Why did they take that Reservoir Offline? It was originally scheduled to go Offline back in April 2024; what took so long? WHAT happened to that Rail Car loaded w/ 60,000Lbs of Ammonium Nitrate??? While i'm at it, WHY was Joe Biden saying: 'Fire Away' each time he invited an Official to speak at his Press Conference? It goes beyond mere insensitivity.
NONE OF THIS passes the 'Smell Test'! I agree w/ Dane Calloway's assessment of this Event- are We seeing another Maui Disaster happening on the Mainland? Some are pointing out that Homes w/o 'Smart Meters' are still standing, similar to the Blue Roof Homes in Maui. Is this yet another Land Grab by Corporations like BlackRock, BlackStone, & Vanguard Properties? Like Maui, the Majority of those affected are Working Class People who lived in the Area for Generations. The Wealthy can afford to Rebuild, but what about Folks who had their Fire Insurance Policies Cancelled? These People lost EVERYTHING! ADOS/ FBA aren't Strangers to these Tactics; Our Ancestors survived Events like This in the Past. We've been Burned Out, Flooded Out, & FORCED OUT (by way of Terrorism, Imminent Domain, & Asset Forfeiture) of Our Independent Towns & Enclaves. Those Areas are currently NON BLACK.
We WARNED Everyone: The Pendulum swings Both Ways; What afflicts Us WILL swing back on You! Jim Crow Joe said that The Federal Government will "cover 100% of the Cost over the next 180 Days"- WHAT does that mean? Sounds like He's covering the Cost of Clearing Debris & Relocation of People who can't afford to Rebuild. $57B in Damages & counting, but neither Biden, nor Newsome said that They will assist Home Owners w/ Rebuilding. We already heard that Property Values in the Fire Zone will likely plummet, due to the unwillingness of Insurers to offer Fire Insurance Riders. In essence, it looks like The Federal Government is prepping The Area for Corporate Oligarchs to buy up Huge tracts of Land for Pennies on the Dollar.
Mechee X made an Excellent Point on the Subject: Is this part of a larger Plan? Are We being PRIMED to accept a Hidden Agenda? These people already think that We've been sufficiently Dumbed Down & Pacified... I can't help but remember the WEF Summit, where Globalists were telling Us: "You will Own NOTHING & you will like it". They spoke about '15 Minute Cities' where EVERYONE leases EVERYTHING; from your Home, down to the Electric Car or Scooter that you drive. 'Smart Technology' plays a Major Role in this narrative. We've heard the phrase: 'As California goes, so goes America'- if this is indeed true, then there's good reason to get prepared.
The Timeline between Maui, North Carolina, & Southern California shows that whatever name We call the Agenda underway, is escalating. We're being told that All 3 Events were 'Acts of Nature', but NONE of them feel natural. Programs like H.A.A.R.P. (High Frequency Active Auroral Research Program) have instigated many Conspiracy Theories over the Years. H.A.A R.P. in particular has been associated w/ Beached Whales & Giant Squid, along w/ Earthquakes in Haiti & Ecuador. My Question is: What's the End Game? If it's about the Billionaire Class, How much is enough? Most of Us are comfortable w/ a House & 2 Vehicles. Why are Companies like BlackRock so vexed on Owning ALL of the Land (& Fresh Water)?
It appears that the Globalists are INTENT on creating a New Feudal System, where EVERYONE is a Serf or Peasant under some Corporate Oligarch & their Political vassals. As a Collective, Europeans have that history in their Genetic Memory; so it may be Muscle Memory for them to fall in line w/ the Experience of their Great Grand Parents. Those of Us 'From The Soil' come from Matrilineal Societies that practiced 'Communalism'- We FIGHT for Freedom on This Side of The Tracks. Our Ancestors died fighting for their Right of Expression & Autonomy. The very same European Peasants that FLED the oppression of their Mother Countries, in turn, tried to make Us 'Their Peasants'- but We continue to fight them to This Day.
Looking at things from a Black Perspective, Delineation is actually a Godsend. As The 'Powers That Be' try to consolidate wealth, they're DESTROYING Europe & weakening America, to the point where BRICS+ has become a Real Time Competitor on the Global Stage. Indigenous Black Americans number over 50 Million Strong & represent over $1.5 Trillion/ Yr- as an Oppressed People. We're already a 'Global Cultural Superpower', & well on Our Way to becoming a formidable Political Power Block. If We can consolidate into a Economic Trading Block, We won't just fulfill the dreams of Our Enslaved & 1st Generation Freedmen Ancestors; We will become REAL PLAYERS on the World Stage [Again].
Regardless of their Agenda, the Colonizers CAN'T HAVE THIS LAND! We were HERE long before they came, & We'll be Here long after they're gone.
-Just My 2 Cents
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goodqueenaly · 1 year ago
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Forgive me if you’ve addressed this before over the years. You’ve covered a lot.
As far as is know, is Betha the only Queen of the Seven Kingdoms to, based on her familial background and upbringing, likely keep the Old Gods? If so, do you imagine this was a factor raised at the Great Council by lords aligned strongly with the Faith against Aegon?
That’s actually a great question, and one I haven’t considered! 
Yes, as far as we’re aware, no other queens during the Targaryen kingdom in Westeros (and obviously not under the Baratheon dynasty either) worshipped or otherwise honored the old gods. (This conclusion obviously does not count de facto crown princess Sansa, of course.) Granted, we know very little about the personal piety of virtually any of the Targaryen queens (Betha included); Naerys, and to a much lesser extent Alysanne and Aelinor Penrose, represent pretty much the only queens about whom GRRM has given any insight regarding their personal religious feelings. However, given that there were no queens from the North, nor any other Houses (besides House Blackwood) which are specifically noted to worship the old gods elsewhere (of which House Blackwood is really the only certain one anyway), I think it’s fair to say that none of the other Targaryen-era queens worshiped the old gods. 
Whether Betha’s religious feelings (real or presumed) would have factored into the debates at the Great Council of 233 AC and even beyond … maybe. Certainly, Westerosi politics historically has been no stranger (no pun intended) to criticisms of religiously unorthodox figures and their supposedly negative influences, from Lelia Lannister during the Hoare dynasty on the Iron Islands to Larra Rogare during the Lysene Spring under Aegon III (and indeed, I’ve suggested such criticisms may have been leveled against Jeyne Manderly, wife and perhaps widow of Rickon Stark). Too, according to Yandel, that “most outspoken of [Aegon V’s] foes” specifically referred to the “gods-given rights and liberties” of which the king allegedly sought to deprive his vassals; however, the quote does not mention which “gods”, old or new (or both), to which the speaker referred, nor the source of the complaint, leaving the potential religious context to the issue unclear. We also do not have a strong understanding of the relationship between the Faith and the crown in 233 AC (or, indeed, during Aegon V’s reign afterward), although there certainly had already been intriguing intersections between the two entities: consider, say, the High Septon under Daeron II, who used the Faith's prejudice against bastards to explain and criticize the rebellion of Daemon Blackfyre, or the nameless septon who used specifically theological arguments to denounce Bloodraven (and was executed for doing as much), or even my speculation on the installation of the office of High Septon permanently in King’s Landing (in its Avignon-esque exile from Oldtown). More directly, the fact that the High Septon of 233 AC was willing to absolve Aemon of his maester’s vows so that Aemon could become king might, perhaps, suggest a desire on the part of the Faith to support the surviving son of Maekar who had no troublesome ties to the old gods, rather than the son whose wife worshiped those strange and ancient gods. 
Again, none of this is explicit canonical evidence, but all of these ideas and suggestions may indicate that Betha’s familial religion was used as an argument against Aegon V’s kingship , at the time of the Great Council and/or during his reign. How could Prince Aegon be trusted as a prospective defender of the Faith, so the argument might have gone, when his own queen worshiped god who were, to borrow Yandel’s phrase when describing the Andal Invasion, “little more than demons”? How could the Faith support the succession princes who may well, so these Faithful might have feared, have been raised to worship those same old gods, and been encouraged by their no-good-very-bad mother to turn away from the light of the Seven? Would Betha have been assumed to share the penchant for sorcery and evil popularly associated with that other Blackwood-blooded old gods worshiper, Brynden Rivers? For those perhaps already inclined to distrust the hedge knight-trained "half a peasant" Prince Aegon, the fact that the prince's wife and the mother of his heirs worshiped gods other than the Seven might have been useful ammunition in their arguments against his accession, or during his reign afterward.
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see-arcane · 1 year ago
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Blood of My Blood Novella Pile
Just a handy place to keep all these spinoffs of the Blood of My Blood AU masterpiece in one place. Shout out once more to @ibrithir-was-heree and @animate-mush for the addicting vampire family drama.
Domestic: Tumblr Ao3
In which the happy ending didn't come, good men died, and the Harkers and their young vampiric son, Quincey, now live under Dracula's rule. The Count is the self-appointed Master and patriarch of the castle and is, on the whole, quite enjoying this sadistic consolation prize following the frustrating pause of his plans for England.
...Of course, there are bound to be hiccups even in a diabolically domestic monster's routine. Case in point, this special night.
One of strange intimacies, stranger revelations, and secrets hidden in stone and cemetery earth.
Something to Cry About: Tumblr Ao3
In which the Master of the castle runs into an unexpected concern regarding his dear vassal and being the monster in the picture is not quite as fun as he recalls.
The Law’s Delay: Tumblr Ao3
Jonathan Harker, now fifteen years deep into his life at Castle Dracula, finds himself the unwilling guest of yet another frightful host and his company. Talk and violence and time tick by. The sun sinks low. The dead travel fast. And a vital Lesson is taught regarding the Law of the land.
Never Loved: Tumblr Ao3
Castle Dracula is abandoned. By son, by subjects, by its Master. The latter finds himself dwelling in the dirt and dark as he waits to strike the English shore once again. Thinking on traitors and thieves. And on his dear friend, who makes him bleed still into the grave earth.
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box-architecture · 3 months ago
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But ten chapter dreamnoblade :((
I HAVEN'T EVEN FINISHED THE FORENSIC AU, OR GOTTEN A SECOND CHAPTER OUT FOR STRANGERS VASSAL (i have half of it written but I don't really have anyone to zoom it with so its harder to have energy for it)
it is really nice to write Winnie The Pooh-esque vibes though. What would a Winnie The Pooh character do if one of their friends was hurt in a way that affects them irrevocably. What are characters like in this new, softer world where most of them are Plushies and conflicts are very ordinary indeed.
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victoriadallonfan · 10 months ago
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Still doing trigger events? How about this:
Cormac didn’t have many friends growing up, but now, in college, he has a lot of friend groups. No best friend, though; he’s acutely aware that given the choice between him and someone else each friend in each group would pick someone else. He tells himself he’s okay with this, and tries to be content hanging out on the peripheries. Of course, if one of the people he considers a friend asks him for help, he drops everything, like a good friend. Trying to be a good friend to all these different groups, balancing when to see which group, he finds himself falling behind on his thesis and still not seeing everyone enough, creating stress and fomo in equal measure. But once the thesis is done, he invites all these groups out for dinner. All is going well until he starts choking on his food. He spends several minutes retching, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat, and when he finally throws it up, on his hands and knees, he realises it’s dead silent, and not a single person got up to help. Why not? Did they think he was joking? Were they too shocked? Doesn’t matter. Trigger.
Oh this was a tough one!
So the end point that crystalizes it all is that he doesn't understand WHY this happened, with a throughline of his being able to seemingly "understand" his place/position, and an iota of harm/danger.
I ultimately settled on Thinker-Stranger (sub Master).
Power:
Vassal (Thinker-Stranger, sub Master) - Vassal has the ability to devour the knowledge of anyone around him within 5 meters - though information must relate to himself - allowing him to gain all of said knowledge in a burst of data, with some leeway for adjacent matters involving him depending on Shard allowance. His targets do not immediately notice the missing information, a sort of face blindness occurring in retrospect, but far more broad in scope.
In return for this data drain, his power also sends in a package of information that cements Vassal as a trusted "underling", "subordinate", "acquaintance" etc etc. in all future interactions. This effect is incredibly subtle, and not something that Vassal can manipulate, often working in tandem with the face blindness to fill in the blanks as him always being "that guy".
Beyond range, Vassal's power has several weak points he works to cover: His power only works via line of sight, anyone who has already been under his power is now immune from future uses, and his targets' opinions on him will change based on his behavior if he isn't careful. It's very easy to go from friendly acquaintance to irritating guy you know but keep around, for example, which can be dangerous around certain capes.
In practice, Vassal was an on the ground member of the Watchdog branch of the Protectorate and then found himself as a member of Foresight, and not much has changed between then and now. He was rarely in costume beyond PR and meetings, preferring to use various disguise kits and aliases for his work.
Vassal is an infiltrator, someone who makes himself known on the fringes of a suspected criminal organization (often by using his power on people on those fringes to create a network) before slowly using his power one by one on greater people in power. He becomes a trusted lackey, an extra pair of eyes they might need, a friendly face in a bar they might go to for information, and when playing his cards right, an outright advisor.
It's a dangerous, precarious position, but he's good at his job and more often than not has the PRT and more colorful heroes swoop in on the information he delivers.
More dangerous than all of that, however, is his secret. He had used his own power on his "friends" the day that he triggered, learning everything they knew about him, and immediately regretted the aftermath. Guilt fed into his actions as he worked to make sure they had his undivided attention to make up for what he had done, using his position in the Protectorate to help with that, but he wouldn't lie and say he wasn't relieved that they all died during Gold Morning.
However, he knows that anyone learning about this is a quick way to ruin the true relationships he's made with his fellow heroes, and silently dreads the day someone with the right power or resources exposes him for what he did.
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scifrey · 2 years ago
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Somehow I wrote 137k words of The Sandman fanfic in the last 5 months. Behold: the result!
This has been an incredible journey - I decided to step back into fandom while I was waiting on some publishing info and news, just as something to do to keep my creativity sharp. The community and reception I discovered, however, has been astoundingly welcoming. I feel reinvigorated and ready to tackle my revisions on my next novel!
THE HOB ADHERENT SERIES
In which Hob Gadling's Stranger returns, they start a weekly hangout, Hob becomes Morpheus' Emotional Support Human (tm), Matthew bullies Hob onto a Docudrama TV series where Hob pretends to be his own ancestor, and Morpheus is the King of Repressed Symbolism.
Status: Complete
Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Includes some comics canon, and some fun cameos from the wider Gaiman-verse, but it’s not necessary to know to enjoy the story.
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Discussions of grief and in-canon character death.
Relationships: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Eleanor | Hob Gadling’s Wife/Hob Gadling (past)
Primary Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Matthew the Raven, Lucien | Lucienne (The Sandman), Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Patrick the Bartender, All the Endless Siblings, Rose Walker, Jed Walker, Lyta Hall, Daniel Hall, Orpheus, Lucifer, (plus some cameos from other characters from the Gaiman Television-Literary Universe)
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CLING FAST
Hob Gadling is a clingy bastard, and he’s not ashamed to admit it. He clings to life. He clings to hope. He clings to his love of humanity. He clings to his Stranger. He also, unfortunately, has a habit of clinging to his name.
Which means, when the BBC is looking for a new pet history expert to appear in their educational docudrama series “Elizabethan Manor,” they’re overjoyed to find a professor who (according to their meticulous research) is actually descended from the Master of the National Trust building they’re filming in - Gadlen House.
Only Hob knows how right they are.
Picks up a few hours after the end of Season 01 Episode 6.
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CARPE DIEM
Hob turns six hundred and sixty-six, invites some fellow Immortals to his pub to celebrate, and receives a gift from Satan themself. Or, the Key to Hell was always going to Be a Problem(tm).
Set between the epilogue and chapter one of Cling Fast.
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HOLD TIGHT
Hob is tasked with his first quest as Vassal of the Endless, Morpheus is bad at using his words, Destiny thinks he's so clever, Desire makes a confession, Rose Walker meets her Uncle's boyfriend, and Lyta Hall punches Dream of the Endless in the nose. Or, the one where Hob Gadling turns into everyone's therapist, and honestly, he ain't mad about it.
Set at the end of Cling Fast - after the premiere of “Elizabethan Manor”, but before the Epilogue.
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KEEPSAKES
Short ficlets set in the Hob Adherent world, based on prompts received from readers. Includes tales of how Hob and Eleanor met and wed, Hob being a badass at a Ren Faire, some hurt/comfort and sleepy smut, and the story of how Hob met Orpheus.
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TAKE ROOT
A deleted scene for a sequel I ended up scrapping.
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