#a knight's duty - chapter 13 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sw33ts444 · 3 months

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frozen crown

pairing: prince!leon x fem!reader x knight!wesker

synopsis: this marriage was something you were not looking forward to. your kingdom was struggling to maintain afloat, so you, the eldest and most demure of all your sisters, were arranged to be married of to the crown prince of the most successful, powerful empire on the continent. having to leave behind your whole life, your native kingdom, and have to marry someone who was not the knight who had stolen your heart was quite possibly your worst nightmare. but... this was for the good of your people...

content warnings: sexual content

wc: 2,031

an: hihi!! i'm going to do my best to keep leon and wesker in character but i can't make any promises as this is a completely different universe. honestly cant decide if the ml will be leon or wesker. will most likely be leon tho! pls lmk if i accidentally switch to 3rd pov, i'm not used to 2nd pov. ps. the residents are evilin

other chapters: 2

1: departure

"Sister, do you really have to go?" The youngest princess, Lucille, begged. You were in the midst of choosing clothes to travel in with your two ladies-in-waiting, choosing different gowns that would survive the long journey north. You let out a long sigh as you turned to the younger. She was just 13, a girl of ten years younger. And perhaps the sister you were closest out of the five girls your parents bore. She was innocent, na��ve, and terribly sheltered. You gave her a gentle smile as you strode over to sit beside her on the bed as the ladies-in-waiting worked on moving your gowns into suitcases.

Placing her hand in yours, you spoke. "I do. I have to go so our parents can continue to take care of you and the residents of our kingdom." You tucked a loose hair behind her ear as she gave you a solemn look.

"Why does it have to be you?" She grumbled, tears welling up in her eyes. "Can't it be Eleanor? She's younger and... and... I mean she's not as good as you but we need someone like you here! Who else will kepp the nobility in check and help the people?"

"Perhaps it will be you, Lucy," you smiled at her. "Learn etiquette, politics, how to care for our kingdom. I will support you... As the imperial consort." The final sentence came out strangled, your voice cracking as the words struggled to come out. Imperial consort... A fate you wished you could avoid.

Your kingdom was struggling to stay afloat, famine, droughts, and diseases were running rampant across the land. The royal coffers were not enough to fund the resources necessary to create solutions. If it were not for the diamond mines recently found, your marriage to the powerful northern empire would never have happened. In exchange for support towards your small kingdom, the empire would receive you and the rights to the diamond mines. It was of little solace to know you were worth the same priceless amount of multiple diamond mines.

Tomorrow was D-Day. The day you left for the empire. The day you would leave everyone and everything you left behind. Including your secret lover. Including your dearest Albert Wesker.

Albert Wesker was your assigned royal guard by your father. The most capable of all knights, the captain himself. He was far older than you, old enough to have sired you. And yet, there was an undeniable attraction between the two of you. When he was first assigned to you when you came of age, he was cold and unforgiving, never having said a word. But you must've grown on him over time, because there came a point where his attraction to you was undeniable. Of course, as eldest princess, you had a duty to keep your integrity. But that didn't stop you from sharing stolen, forbidden moments and tender kisses. Leaving him and being promised off to another was, as shameful as it felt to admit, possibly the worst part of this arranged marriage. Though, there was some mercy. He and your ladies-in-waiting were allowed to escort you to the empire, but from there, it was a high chance that they would be replaced with people native to that land.

The day was coming to an end far too quickly. After comforting Lucille, you had dinner with the rest of your family. It was a subdued affair. And soon you were up in your room again for your final night, but not alone.

"Wesker," you breathed, choking back tears. He had been waiting on the sofa in front of the fireplace, but as soon as you entered he crossed the room in few strides, pulling you into a desperate embrace. This was out of character for him. He never seemed desperate. "Wesker," you repeated, the tears that you so greatly wanted to keep hidden spilled forth as you buried your head in his chest. He gently rubbed your back in a comforting, gentle way. A tenderness he would only ever show you.

"Shhh, dearheart, I'm here." His voice was husky, laced with pain. He separated for a moment to pick you up, and he carried you to your bed, drawing the curtains aside before gently placing you down. He climbed in with you, entwining his body with yours beneath the silk sheets. And he kissed you, tenderly, so gentle it was like he was scared of breaking you. But it soon became heated, passionate, filled with desperation. His hands wandered your body, expertly removing your dress. Luckily, today you hadn't worn a very complicated one. Both of your garments now to the side, he returned his lips to yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth, drawing a gasp of surprise from you. His hands left hot trails everywhere they went; it was as if he was trying to memorise every inch of your body.

His mouth moved from yours down to your jaw and your neck, leaving a trail of kisses, careful not to do anything that would leave lasting marks. Eventually his mouth made its way to your breast, latching on to your nipple. You let out a quiet moan, trying to keep your noises as suppressed as possible. His tongue flicked and teeth grazed at your nipple whilst his hand played with your other breast, making sure to give the two of them equal attention. Your moans spilled forth, "Wesker!" Your noises seemed to light a flame within him as he began to move down your body, placing kisses on your soaked panties as he hitched your legs up on his shoulders. This was uncharted territory. You had never let him touch there, to maintain your dignity as a princess, you had always cited. But tonight was different. Tonight was possibly your last night to enjoy his embrace.

The older made eye contact with you, eyes asking for permission, but even with this being the final night, you could not bring yourself to breach your morals and teachings. Although, for going as far as you already have, you might as well. You bit your lip, struggling to come to a decision, but the hesitation was answer enough for Wesker. He moved out from inbetween your legs, guilt panging in your chest as your eyes fell to the tent in his undergarments. If only he was your intended, your future, your destiny. Desire burned beneath your underwear.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, wrapping your arms around him as he hovered above you.

He shook his head in response, "Don't apologise, dear," he laid a gentle kiss on your forehead before laying beside you. "You hold steadfast to your beliefs; it's something I love about you."

"I'm going to miss these nights we spend together," the lump was forming in your throat once more.

"So will I, princess, so will I." Moments of silence passed as you two simply enjoyed each other's company, his hands roamed your body freely, but a lot more tenderly than before.

"Do you remember when you were first assigned as my guard?" You whispered, a small smile gracing your face as you caressed his cheek.

A frown played about his lips. "I would rather not think about those days, dearheart."

You giggled in response. "Why? It's so silly to think back on."

"I was cruel to you, then. Treated you far colder than an esteemed princess ought to be treated."

"Being cold is just who you are." You paused, planting a soft peck on his lips. "I'm just glad you warmed up to me."

He smirked, drawing you in for a deeper kiss, still ever-so gentle. "Who could resist this charm of yours?" He smacked your ass and buried his head into the crook of your neck, taking in as much of your scent as possible. You had yelped in surprise at his sudden actions, but it quickly melted into giggles as his breath tickled your neck.

"Albert Wesker, I love you."

"I love you too," his response sounded filled with more sorrow than anything else.

The next day was busy; Wesker had gotten up to leave before the sun rose, despite your pleas, so the maids and your ladies-in-waiting would not find the two of you together. It was right in time that you got your garments on as well, as the ladies-in-waiting came in and drew the curtains almost as soon as you finished. They assisted you in bathing and getting dressed and having a quick breakfast before escorting you outside, where the row of carriages holding all your luggage was kept. It wasn't as much as one would expect from a royal; usually there would be as many as ten carriages, but being frugal and considering the state of your kingdom, you decided to take only two carriages of luggage.

And now, it was time for your awaited departure, which came all too soon. Your family was waiting by the carriage, and the palace staff were standing bowed as a farewell. These people, whom you have known your whole life, you may never see again. Tears welled up in your eyes as you walked towards your family, curtsying to the king and queen. "Greetings to the sun and moon of the kingdom," your ladies-in-waiting followed suit.

"Daughter..." Your father sighed, gesturing for you to stand upright. Your father wasn't one for affection, but his eyes were swimming with a multitude of emotions as he placed a firm hand on your shoulder. "You are doing us a great service, my daughter. My eldest daughter whom I feel nothing but pride and joy for." Your mother, the queen, sobbed quietly as she pulled you in for a hug.

"My dear, sweet, kind, girl," she whispered, "I know you'll make us proud." She separated and placed a gentle hand on your cheek to wipe away your streaming tears with her thumb.

"Thank you, mother," as you turned to your sisters, Lucille leaped into your arms, unabashedly sobbing loudly.

"You have to write me! All the time! Ok?!" She cried, burying her face into your cloak.

"I will," you croaked, patting her hair as comfortingly as possible. "I trust you to study diligently," you lowered your head to whisper in her ear, "I will support you if you decide to pursue the crown." She nodded. As you straightened yourself, the other three sisters approached you. None of them showing nearly as much emotion as your parents or Lucille. Two of them, Eleanor and Maribelle, envied your prowess whilst the other, Georgina, fears retribution from the olders if she were ever to side with you.

"Farewell, sister. I'll make sure to take on your duties and help care for our kingdom in your absence," Eleanor gave a wicked smile. Maribelle and Georgina didn't say a word.

"Thank you, kind sister, but I trust our parents far more than an inexperienced princess. I know you are eager to learn, but mistakes are far more costly to fix. Please, take your time in learning well my duties before you take them up," Your tone was sweet, and you felt a small twinge of amusement as the smile plastered on her face faltered.

"Safe... safe travels," Georgina's small voice came out from behind Maribelle. Her nervousness was the only thing that stood out about this princess.

"Your Highness, I am afraid it is time for us to depart." Abigail, one of your ladies-in-waiting, murmured. You separated from Lucille, who was still sobbing loudly, clenching her gown in her fists.

"Thank you, all. I will make sure to write and do our kingdom proud. And if time allows, I will visit as well." Wesker, who stood by your carriage, opened the door and held out a hand to help you in, which you took. As the carriages pulled away from the palace, your family stood, waving at you. It was a heartbreaking sight to see; you're finally leaving everything you've ever known behind. Your whole life, your whole family, what you thought would be your future, your whole everything. The tears couldn't seem to stop flowing from your eyes, no matter how much you wiped away at them.

please don't rewrite, repost, translate, or submit my work to ai 💜

taglist: ask to join:)

#albert wesker #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker x you #albert wesker x y/n #albert wesker smut #resident evil au #me when the residents are evil #albert whiskers

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studiocartridge · 5 months

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Chapter 2: Dawn of the Pilgrimage: Page 13

◆Read the latest◆

◆Start from the beginning◆

Reblogs are very appreciated, help us get more readers!

☾Lunar Blight is a gothic horror story about an elite knight serving a moon cult who must choose between upholding his honoured duty or condemning everything he’s grown to know.☽

#lunar blight #hiveworks #webcomics #comics #gothic horror #vampires

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sjsmith56 · 8 months

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Lord Buchanan - Series Masterlist

Series completed.

A bit of a mashup, set in an alternate universe, where a modern woman finds herself stuck in a medieval world. She needs the protection of a powerful man (guess who?) to stay safe in this world as there is danger in many places for an unaccompanied woman. The people of the medieval world (with touches of the Renaissance) are also aware of the modern world through the visions of their sorceress. Magic is accepted as being equal to religion. All MCU characters except for two will have different identities in this story. The two will be revealed during the story. Much of this story will be suitable for 18+ readers only. Minors should not interact with this story. If you follow me and your bio does not indicate you are older than 18 you will be blocked.

Characters: Lord Buchanan (James Buchanan Barnes), OFC (named), King Steven (Steve Rogers), Queen Peg (Peggy Carter), Sir Samuel / Knight Commander (Sam Wilson), Bruce the Giant (Bruce Banner), Lord and Lady Stark (Tony and Pepper Stark), King Thorn and Prince Loke (Thor and Loki), Dr. Jane Foster, Sorceress (Wanda Maximoff), Garrison Commander Rhodes (James Rhodes), Archer Barton (Clint Barton), the Baron (Baron Zemo), the Dreykov sisters (Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova), Prince Arthur David Joaquin de Torres Walker aka Quin Torres (Joaquin Torres as a teenager), Duke John Walker, Lord Fury (Nick Fury), and others in brief cameos. The final character of note is not an MCU character but a horse, Magnus, the black stallion ridden by Lord Buchanan; Magnus is a central character in several plot lines.

Warnings: sexual content, violent content, misogyny, talk of slavery, talk of child abuse, talk of sexual abuse, talk of incest, forced arranged marriages, death. There is also love, valour, honour, truth, and attention to duty so it balances out quite well.

Previously published on Wattpad and AO3 platforms, under the username SJSmith56.

Novels/Collections Masterlist Tumblr Masterlist

Read past the break for chapter titles.

Chapter 1. A New World

Chapter 2. To the Castle

Chapter 3. The Feast

Chapter 4. The Duel

Chapter 5. Declarations

Chapter 6. A Time for War

Chapter 7. Time to Live

Chapter 8. The White Wolf

Chapter 9. Two Brothers, Two Kingdoms

Chapter 10. Decisions

Chapter 11. Magic Moment

Chapter 12. Coronation

Chapter 13. Tactics

Chapter 14. Friends in Need

Chapter 15. Setting Things Right

Chapter 16. The Way Home

Chapter 17. Heavens Above

Chapter 18. At Home in the Rocky Woodlands

Chapter 19. Hope and Friendship

Chapter 20. Meeting of the Minds

Chapter 21. Solidarity

Chapter 22. Two Steps Forward

Chapter 23. Three Steps Back

Chapter 24. The Sweet and the Bitter

Chapter 25. Radio Silence

Chapter 26. Across the Waters

Chapter 27. A Single Step

Chapter 28. Home

Chapter 29. The Danger

Chapter 30. Celebrations

Chapter 31. Revelations

Chapter 32. Destiny Calls

Chapter 33. A Matter of Honour

Chapter 34. Time for Love

Chapter 35. A Call to War

Chapter 36. The Gathering

Chapter 37. Time to Fight

Chapter 38. The Last Time

Chapter 39. A Shot in the Dark

Chapter 40. Reap What You Sow

Chapter 41. Coming Home

Chapter 42. A Time for Everything

Chapter 43. Epilogue

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #james buchanan barnes #James Buchanan Barnes fanfiction #James Buchanan Barnes au #bucky barnes au #medieval world #buckybarneslongfic #Bucky Barnes long fiction

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disgraceful-writings · 2 months

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Meant To Be

Chapter 1

Y/n and Aegon were born on the same day, with velvet eyes and white crowns. Y/n is sent to Oldtown by their mother to keep her pure. What happens when she doesn't return so? How will her twin react?

Aegon II and y/n were born on the same day at the same time, with white crowns and violet eyes. Y/n was quieter than Aegon, she seemed to only observe those around her. Aegon was boisterous and needing someone’s attention all the time. However, when placed together, they would coo to one another and gravitate closer. As time went on, another princess and prince were born. Aegon didn’t seem to get along well with his other siblings, but he knew he loved y/n. Their father and mother spoke of them being betrothed due to the gods creating them as two halves of a whole. Viserys saw this as a blessing for years to come.

The burning star rose and gave warmth to y/n’s face. She rose and contemplated the dream she had that night when suddenly a knock was heard at her door, “Your grace? It is morning.” Savann, y/n’s favorite maid, opened the door with two others in tow.

“Good morning, Princess, did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you for asking, Savann.”

As she set a pitcher of water on the vanity, she started humming a tune and setting the princess’s beauty tools out. Y/n fumbled out of her large bed and onto her feet before walking to the vanity. “Savann?”

“Yes, your grace?”

Savann started to clean the princess’s face with the water from the pitcher. “Do you believe in visions?”

She paused for a moment and looked the princess in the eyes, “I believe people want and dream, however, they have to make those things come true.”

The princess hummed and Savann begun on her hair. “Savann, is Aegon really how people say he is?”

The elder looked into the princess’s eyes through the mirror for a moment, then said, “Your mother would never let him lay a finger on you. You will have your duty as husband and wife, but after that you are your own person.”

The princess looked down sadly. She had remembered their years together before she was sent to Oldtown at their mother’s request. He was always so gentle and kind to her, then they grew, and he turned to drink and whores for reasons unknown to y/n. Now she is 15 and bled for the first time, she will wed him. She always knew they’d be betrothed, it is their family’s way of things. That didn’t change her heart in the ways of the man she wanted.

“I suggest the green dress, your grace”, Savann pulled the dress out to show, “It will make your eyes stand out.”

The princess stood and walked over to Savann who called one of the other maids to assist. She was 10 when her mother decided to send her off. Queen Alicent claimed it was for her education, but everyone knew she wanted to keep her favored of the twins pure to the world. What she wouldn’t know is y/n didn’t stay pure. Around the age of 13, a certain servant boy caught her eye. He was tall, built, and 3 years her elder. On her strolls around the land, she would hear him speak of becoming a knight at the keep or going north to the wall. They always saw each other, him walking through the halls, bowing to her or her strolling through Oldtown and seeing him train with the swordsman. This went on until one day she gathered the courage to approach him and ask for protection, as she wanted to go outside the castle walls. How could he refuse a princess? The ride was quiet between the two. But there was a feeling of want anyone could’ve felt.

After their ride, they came to a clearing covered with wildflowers. Y/n hopped off her horse and laid in a patch with a sigh. “Do you ever feel like something is missing?”, she had caught him off guard while tying up the horses. “What do you mean, princess?”, she rose onto her elbows to look at him, “Life is planned out for everyone. If your father or mother are servants or peasants, you’ll be a servant or peasant. If you’re a Lady, you marry a Lord and give him heirs who will carry on the name and do the same as you.” He walked closer to her and sat beside her, “Not always. My father and mother were farmers in the north before they passed, and I was sent here. Now I am a servant working to be a knight, and I will do anything to be one. You can change your fate whenever you want.” She lied back and looked at the sky in contemplation. They sat like this for a time until he spoke, “Do you not like being a princess?”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, your grace, I do not mean to offend.”

She sat up, “It’s a good life, but I want more than just being someone’s child barer. I want to go out and explore, maybe discover something new.”

She felt his gaze locked on her, so she turned to him. He did not falter and slowly moved closer until his lips were on hers. Their hands wandered as their tongues searched on another’s mouths. He moved her to lie on her back, never departing from her lips. Her hands clawed at his chest wanting, no, needing to feel his skin on hers. With his shirt ripped open, she kissed and sucked on his neck, creating the most beautiful whimpers she's ever heard while he ground himself on her. She let him go, so he could push her skirts up, and he paused in awe at her pussy. Y/n sat up and started to unlace his trousers as he started to kiss her neck. He cried out, laying his head on her shoulder when she encircled his cock with her hand and started pumping. “I want you inside me”, she said into his ear and laid back.

“As you wish, your grace”, trying to catch his breath, he lined himself up and slowly pushed in as he lowered himself on top of her. She cried at the burn, so he whispered sweet nothing's while kissing away the tears. “Can I move? I don’t think I’ll last, princess”, she nodded and the pain begun to subside with every thrust of his hips until they were both a mess of each other. His hips started to stutter, and he removed himself from her to finish in the grass. Breathing heavily, “we should go back. They’ll be looking for you”, he wiped his face of the sweat and laced himself back up, making himself more presentable. Y/n sat up, this empty wanting feeling filling her, what could this be? When she saw him start walking to the horses, she turned to look over the sun kissed field and rose.

Taglist : @watercolorskyy , @xitsemm, @d3nny

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asykriel · 2 years

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Love is the Death of Duty - 3.

® do not repost or translate !

☆ Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Male! Targaryen OC

☆ Status: Ongoing

☆ Summary:

“He is half of my heart.”

War made monsters of them all, but it also brought the two second sons together in a flurry of death, love, deceit and delusion. The story of Aemond Targaryen and the eldest son of Daemon and Rhaenyra, Maegor Targaryen, second of his name.

☆ Warnings: Sexual content, explicit violence, dark themes, targcest etc.

☆ AO3 ☆ || ☆ Wattpad ☆

☆ CHAPTERS: (Prologue) / ( 1 ) / ( 2 ) / ( 3 ) / ( 4 ) / ( 5 ) / ( 6 ) / ( 7 ) / ( 8 ) / ( 9 ) / ( 10 ) / ( 11 ) / ( 12 ) / ( 13 ) / ( 14 ) / ( 15 ) / (16 from now on upcoming chaps only on- AO3 || Wattpad )

☆ Masterlist ☆ || ☆ Spotify Playlist ☆

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Chapter 3

Evening found Maegor pacing impatiently in circles around the guest chamber he shares with his older half brother, Jacaerys. Half a day passed since the events that unfolded took place and he could not still himself. If anything he felt even more nervous if that could even be possible.

Half a day since he killed a man.

Half a day since Aemond caught him in a vice grip with no words or touch.

To make matters worse and add more wood to his raging fire, King Viserys was feeling slightly better - albeit aided by milk of the poppy - and he had announced a large supper with just the two families together.

"Why are you pacing like a caged beast, brother? Has taking a life frightened you so much?" Jacaerys questions, amused from the chaise lounge he was sprawled on. Clearly the eldest in a mood to play jests to ease his boredom.

Maegor stops abruptly, fists clenched. Something dark flashes before his eyes but he does not yield to it.

Smug bastard.

"That may be it indeed, half-brother." Maegor retorts and his glare alone is enough to make Jace forget about picking on him and divert his attention on something else. Now that they were grown up his brothers grew weary of his hot temper. Maegor was quick to take offense and react much like his father.

I did everything while you hid behind mother.

At least Lucerys was with Joffrey otherwise he was sure he would not hear the end of it by dinner time.

No one should know what truly made him so restless, so angry and riled up. Maegor could bear with a few more childish jests from his brothers. He could even bear with them poking him constantly. Saying that he was afraid when he made his first kill because he was shaking like a leaf. Because he was so restless he could not resist sitting still longer than a moment.

The fact that he was burning because of Aemond however, that was his secret. Their secret.

Maegor resumes pacing, more furiously this time just to keep his mind distracted from spiraling into thoughts about the Prince again. Eyes on his feet he was counting his steps in silence like a mantra.

A heavy knock stops him again before the large wooden door is opened.

"My Princes you are awaited for dinner as per by request of their majesties the King and Queen." Ser Criston Cole enters to deliver the announcement. Maegor scowls at him but is the first to leave the chambers much to his elder brother's surprise who remains behind, escorted by the knight.

He was as eager for the supper as he was dreading it. Half of him hoped Aemond wouldn't attend and half was dying to see the Prince again. Dying to talk with him and just bask in his presence.

In the hall where the feast is held the gods curse and gift him at the same time. Maegor is seated at the head of the table next to Aemond right across Lucerys and Rhaena. One second son next to the other. Someone was either playing jokes or aiding him, he could not tell.

Maegor could not help but steal glances from Aemond and when no one else was paying attention he was staring at him shamelessly in front of everyone.

The One Eyed Prince looks at him once, glancing at him briefly while the main attention was on Viserys entering the hall on a seat carried by several of his guards. Everyone seated at the table stands for the King who keeps his dignity despite his sickness and grunts of agony. Maegor's throat went bone dry but brazenly he maintains the eye contact.

Then Aemond turns away. But he doesn't. He keeps his eyes on the Prince's side profile while the rest of his family is seated back. Maegor shifts in his chair, keeping a proper posture while he observes the rest of the people at the table with a fleeting glance. Most of them either purposely avoid his eyes or they are too engaged in other matters to notice. He does not mind, he only craved the interest of a sole person in this room and he was going to get it.

Maegor meets the eyes of his half brothers and scowls. Jacaerys and Lucerys exchange several lines that he can't hear from his side of his table and then they start quietly chuckling together. They were never going to grow up.

Shameless brats.

Maegor doesn't feel like wasting his energy tonight entertaining the jests of his childish brothers when the source of his burning pyre was seated next to him. He can understand why his mother was sheltering them when the majority of lords and ladies in the Kingdom knew they were bastards. Some wanted them dead, they were dining in this moment with several of those people. As their brother it was one of his duties as well to protect them even with all their fooling around.

However, tonight duty could wait. Aemond was his most pressing matter and Maegor needed to continue what they silently started in the throne room. He desired Aemond's attention like that on him again.

Unfortunately, patience never numbered among Maegor's virtues but he kept his facade as best as he could, feigning interest in all the dishes that were brought on the table but not touching any of them. Food was not what he was hungry for.

Pretending to close his eyes soberly when the Queen held her prayer for Vaemond Velaryon and his guard when in reality he was relieving the rush of the kill and Aemond's expression full of fervor and desire was replaying on and on in his head.

His father, Daemon in particular seemed to be the most amused during the prayer, not even trying to fake the mildest guilt like he was doing.

Maegor gripped the edge of the table, eyes still closed and sighed louder than he intended to still himself. He almost forgot that the real Aemond was right next to him. The Prince gave him a curious look but remained silent, choosing to observe his silverhaired nephew instead of speaking to him.

"This is an occasion for celebration it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke will marry their cousins Baela and Rhaena further strengthening the bond between our houses." the King announces, his voice slightly faltering in clear pain.

Maegor opens his eyes only when he hears the commotion of toasts pouring for his half brothers, as they are congratulated on their engagements. He feigns interest again, raises a glass in their honor and fakes the ghost of a smile. However, he doesn't feign interests when Aemond begins to steal glances instead. His skin is starting to feel tingly.

"Well done Jace, you finally get to lie with a woman. You do know how the act is done, I assume?" Aegon leans over and whispers in his ears, louder than he probably intended as it reaches to both him and Aemond but neither pay any mind to him. One thing never changed from six years ago - Aegon was still a fool and a drunkard.

"Let us toast as well Prince Lucerys... the future Lord of the Tides." Viserys continues and Luke awkwardly fakes a smile.

Aemond shifts in his chair - barely noticeable - but Maegor immediately sees the change in his demeanor when the Prince stares down Lucerys. Something dark flashes behind that violet eye but Aemond tries to mask it with a sip of wine from his glass.

Maegor need not guess what was causing his displeasure. Luke was the one who took out his eye and right now he was being put on a pedestal in front of him. He contemplated starting a conversation with Aemond and offer some kind of distraction but decided otherwise when Viserys staggered and stood up from his chair drawing all attention to him.

"It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in the world yet grown so distant from each other in the years past." The King removes the golden mask, revealing his grotesque face, his flesh eaten all the way to the bone. Everyone's eyes are set on him except for Aemond's who avoids looking at his feeble father.

"Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided." Viserys hits his cane on the floor.

"Set aside your grievances if not for the sake of the crown then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly." The cane thuds louder before the King slumps back in his chair, exhausted.

Rhaenyra followed, standing and raising her cup to the Queen, extending a peace offering to which Alicent returns it half heartedly.

Maegor observes everyone with mild interest before he returns to his main interest. He could feel Aemond's uneasiness. It was faint but Daemon trained his perception not just his swordmanship so he managed to pick apart the signs. Maegor's tongue was itching to just tell him something. Anything.

He is successfully interrupted again when Aegon suddenly comes between him and Aemond and hooks an arm around his shoulder, leaning into Maegor's ear.

"What about my favorite nephew? Where is your betrothed? Surely by now you have women throwing themselves at your feet." Maegor clicks his tongue in annoyance but does not engage in Aegon's antagonizing. He shouldn't waste energy on fools.

"Unlike your elder brother I'm certain you know all about how the deed is done." Aegon pressed on, patting Maegor over his back. Aemond sighs in annoyance and shifts further away in his chair to put some distance between him and his elder brother.

"Or maybe you prefer men instead? That's fine too, no shame in that. Just ask Aemond, I personally took him to an establishment when he was 13 to get his wet for the first time. He cried a week straight after that." Aegon laughs in his ear, his wine filled breath hitting his nose.

He tastes blood again.

Spineless fucker how dare you.

Maegor stands up abruptly to face Aegon. They're the same height so his venomous glare easily finds Aegon's alcohol glazed eyes.

"I would invite you to the sparring grounds right now if I didn't know you were too busy emptying wine cups instead of brandishing blades, uncle." It is his turn to lean in Aegon's ear.

Maegor places his hand on his shoulder, mirroring the gesture and squeezing it in a vice grip until Aegon's mouth twists in obvious displeasure. A clear, blunt threat. If only he would take his invitation so he could obliterate him on the training grounds.

Aemond watches him with interest and a glint in his eye humming in approval at the mentioning of blades.

"A toast for our children." Daemon suddenly clears his voice. His expression is amused but the gaze he holds towards his son is a firm, cold one. Maegor immediately understands and complies, seating himself at the table again. Causing a scene now would cast an ever darker shadow above his family.

Aegon returns to his seat as well irritated. He needed more to drink his humiliation away.

"Aegon enjoys taunting people to get reactions out of them. He just needs to get put back in his place." Maegor suddenly feels a hand on his knee and Aemond's hair brushes against the skin of his cheek as he leans in to whisper in his ear.

Instinctively he flinches in surprise and snaps his head towards the source, finding himself just inches apart from Aemond. They were practically breathing in eachother's air. His skin was burning again, but Aemond's breaths felt hotter against his face. The scorching heat from where Aemond touched him travelled all the way up to his head making him dazed.

Gods give me strength.

Jace suddenly jumps up, his fists coming in contact with the table. All eyes dart to him in surprise. Maegor bites back his tongue and curses his half brother and that drunkard fool for the interruption. Aegon moved back to his elder brother and Baela to taunt them again with his perverted comments.

Aemond stands up abruptly. Maegor was suffocating from his earlier gesture but now the tension that was coming off him was even more unbearable. Aemond's violet eye silently stares down Aegon until he returns to his seat, shuffling nervously then it moves to Jacaerys. Maegor's elder brother is equally as uncomfortable, avoiding Aemond's stare and searching for an escape.

"To Prince Aegon and...Prince Aemond." Jace swallows with an empty mouth. The hesitation and slight pause before mentioning Aemond's name is not missed.

"We have not seen each other in years but I have fond memories of our shared youth." Jace continues, testing his luck like a fool. He swallows again, realizing those fond memories also referred to the constant taunting Maegor and Aemond endured in their childhood and the loss of the latter's eye.

"And as men, I hope that we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles." Maegor saw Aemond's jaw tighten and clench. Maegor casts a glance of disapproval to his half brother and thankfully Jace wasn't so dense to press on the matter.

"To you as well." Aegon muttered trying to shift his shoulder away from the hand Jace placed on him. He looked uncomfortable. Maegor smiled under his glass of wine at his discomposure.

All the eyes moved from Jacaerys to Aemond, awaiting for his own response feigning goodwill like everyone else was doing for the past length of this dinner. Aemond scowls, in obvious irritation and avoids the expectant stares of his parents. He was about to make a toast when Maegor's hand brushes against his leg under the table. Aemond's eye blinks in surprise but he retakes his seat. They exchange fleeting glances, Maegor offering an apologetic look before they resume their cold facades.

"Well done my boy." Viserys hits his cane in approval.

"Beware the beast beneath the boards." Helaena mumbles drawing Maegor's attention for a brief moment.

No one else pays mind to her until she stand up to make a toast to Baela and Rhaena. She spent most of her childhood alone, trapped in her own world but Maegor pities her fate that got her tangled with her vile brother. Aegon's preferences were well known in and out of court but he was glad his younger brother was nothing like the failure he was.

Music is ordered to be played. Jacaerys extends his hand to Helaena offering an invitation to dance to which she happily obliges. Aegon initially disregards his wife and mother of his children but then looks dumbfounded as he slowly begins to process his drunken thoughts. He searches for his younger brother to which Aemond just glares back at him coldly. Aegon scoffs and decides the wine is still the best company for him.

"I was wondering if you would indulge me with that promised sparring session one of these days, uncle." Maegor taps against the table with his fingers. Aemond's head immediately turns to him and he swears he sees the ghost of a smirk against his lips for a moment. Or maybe he was just going mad.

"Ah yes. I shall keep my promise. I always do." Aemond hums touching Maegor's wine cup with his own before sipping some of the drink. For once tonight it would seem he was less irritated.

Maegor's heart swoops with victory at the thought that he was the only one in the room Aemond seemed content interacting with without displaying hostile behavior. A genuine smile is returned to the older Prince and for a moment the violet eye seems to soften in response.

Suddenly the exhausted King is carried back to his chambers by his guards at the same time more plates with food are brought in by the servants. A steaming, juicy roasted pig is settled right in front of the two of them. Aemond's fingers twitch and his violet eye no longer carries any softness.

Behold the Pink Dread.

The voices echo through Maegor's mind and he is certain they are likely overwhelming Aemond as well. Before him, the older Prince was the main target of all the pranks and taunting, that was until he claimed Vhagar. No one dared to talk back at him after he became the rider of a conqueror's dragon. Aemond turns his head towards the nearest wall and avoids looking at the main course.

Lucerys suddenly chuckles staring right at them from across the table.

It was enough to make Aemond's head snap towards the source of the irritating noise. He stares him down but Luke continues to snicker in defiance just like he did years ago when he went down in the dragon pit and brought Aemond that fucking pig for him to ride.

Maegor shoots a glare to his younger brother, urging him silently to stop but if anything it only riles him up even more. Somehow it was more hilarious to his younger half brother that he was seated next to Aemond.

A fist comes crashing against the table as Aemond jumps up, gaining everyone's attention and surprise.

"Final tribute." Aemond states sharply. Darkness flashes against his features and Maegor could almost taste his rage on the tip of his tongue.

"To the health of my nephews." Aemond feigns calmness but the twitch of his fingers against his wine cup says otherwise.

"Jace." A violet eye stares Jacaerys down who shares a puzzled and wary look with Maegor then with Lucerys. Jace silently asks Maegor to intervene before it's too late.

"Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise… hmm…" Aemond continues in a collected manner and stops briefly as if searching for an appropriate adjective. Maegor knew what was going to follow and tapped the table to gain his attention, practically begging him silently to stop.

"Strong." Aemond doesn't stop.

"Aemond." Alicent Hightower warned, faintly shaking her head in disapproval but he blatantly ignores her.

"Come. Let us drain our cups to these three." The Prince raises his wine cup higher to which Aegon mirrors his gesture, joining him in amusement but he probably was already too drunk to realize the severity of the situation.

Maegor sucks in a nervous breath and places his hand on Aemond's leg under the table like he did earlier, urging him to stop.

"Strong boys." Aemond concludes satisfied with himself. He does not comply to Maegor's silent plead but he does not slap his hand away either.

"I dare you to say that again." Jacaerys warns, his fists curled in rage. His body is tensed up but he holds his head lower as if he knows the balance of power between them.

"Why? Twas' only a compliment." Aemond questions, masquerading his innocence before he shifts away from Maegor's touch to advance towards Jace.

Maegor stands up immediately sensing the tension that was brewing and was about to be unleashed. He was conflicted about his options. The urge to defend his family for it was his duty was battling the instinctive urge to defend Aemond.

"Do you not think yourself Strong?" Jacaerys throws the first punch but Aemond barely staggers. Maegor freezes up.

"Jace!" He hears his mother shout and he bristles up but he can't act without remaining neutral.

Lucerys jumps up to charge after Aemond but is swiftly slammed face first against the table by Aegon who clearly had a streak for going after those weaker than him. The drunkard's force makes Luke's vision cloud for a moment and it was the trigger Maegor needed to pick a side and intervene.

Aemond shoves Jacaerys roughly against the floor and chuckles in response of the grunt filled rage he receives in return when the guards manage to hold him back.

"That is enough!" The Queen demands with no avail.

Maegor darts besides Aemond, hitting him against his shoulder and making him slightly falter on his feet in surprise. Maegor lunges at Aegon offering an escape to Luke who is dragged by the guards as well. He flanks him from his side until Aegon is painfully slammed with his back against the floor where Maegor pins him down in a vice grip.

Aemond looks pleased by his doings, observing the chaos that was unfolding before his eye.

"Why would you say such a thing before these people!?" The Queen demands in desperation. She really thought a single dinner had the potential to heal all the wounds along years of bitterness. Aemond scoffs at her.

"I was merely expressing how proud I am of our family, mother. Hmm, though it seems most of my nephews aren't aren't quite as proud of theirs." The One Eyed Prince is not quite done yet but Maegor hears how he accentuated most. Almost imperceptible but clearly referring to him. A silent refusal to place him in the same pot as his half brothers. Respect and acknowledgement and perhaps something more.

Rhaenyra moves next to her children to soothe them down but Jace and Luke start struggling against the guards again at the fresh offense thrown in their faces.

"Wait, wait!" Daemon intervenes at last, lifting an arm towards his step sons and it is enough to stop them from charging after Aemond. They obey him immediately and he herds them back to their mother silently with his commanding presence alone. Maegor turns his head to his father briefly, easing his grip against Aegon momentarily.

The drunkard takes advance of the distraction and spits in Maegor's face, kicking his shin in a poor attempt at breaking loose.

He sees red.

All the fire triggered by Aemond earlier turned into blinding rage again.

"I killed a man today. Don't make me kill a second." Maegor growls in Aegon's face as his hands move from the the collar of his tunic where they were curled in fists to wrap around his throat. He hears gasps of shock but he ignores them until he feels a familiar burning gaze on him.

There's an itch Maegor feels as if Aemond is silently daring him to try. Daring him to kill someone in front of him again. It was tempting.

It takes Daemon to grab him by the back of his collar and yank him off Aegon to put an end to his thoughts and drive him too next to his half brothers. Maegor curls his lip in anger but complies.

"Go to your quarters. All of you go now!" Rhaenyra demands, exhausted and irritated. It was a long day and she was having none of it anymore.

At the command, Jace, Luke and their betrothed shamefully return to their chambers with their mother following closely behind to make sure they would obey.

Maegor doesn't follow, standing next to his father that was certain to scold him after all this was finished. Daemon stands tall with a seemingly amused smile on his lips, staring down Aemond in silence. He was the one daring Aemond to try anything now with eyes full of disdain but the Prince just hums in response feigning interest. The air was tense between them and Maegor could just hope Aemond was wise enough to not start an offense against his father as well.

Thankfully, Aemond gives in first, choosing to leave instead of antagonize. His hand lightly brushes against Maegor's unseen when he departs. A silent invitation.

Maegor doesn't take his eye off his back and how his long silver hair sways when he exits the hall. The rush was already fogging his thoughts. There was only a thin line of reason left in his brain that was stopping him from chasing after Aemond right under Daemon's nose.

"Go to your chambers. Enough ruckus for one night." His father commands in an exhausted voice but there's a certain look in his eyes that his son can't figure out. Maegor nods and disappears swiftly not waiting to see if any scolding would follow. Wandering aimlessly in the hallways, he finds himself in front of his chamber.

Maegor stops in front of the door and contemplates his choices for a moment. The hour was late, most were surely sleeping including Jace with whom he shared the room. Certainly his older brother would not mind his absence.

He decides to go against Daemon's words in the end and makes his way towards the sparring grounds with the intention to blow steam off and clear his head. Tonight he made progress with Aemond but Maegor was still not satisfied.

The training grounds are quiet and empty like he expected them to be. Solitude was sometimes his greatest aid in times of uncertainty such as these.

Nightbringer is unsheated with a sharp sound and Maegor closes his eyes. He begins his dance, striking invisible foes down with his blade certain he was the only one outside at this hour. The night air is crisp and cold on his scorching skin. It soothes Maegor.

"Like I said, I always keep my promises." A familiar voice makes him stop abruptly with a stagger. Aemond reveals himself from the dark with a slight smirk on his lips. His violet eye is blazing.

He tastes fire.

Maegor throat is bone dry. He does not utter a word, just nods in response, accepting the sparring invitation. He tries to straighten his body and retake a proper posture fit for a warrior. Embarassing himself in front of the older Prince would be the last thing he does.

Aemond unsheathes his own sword and allows his nephew to make the first move. They begin to move freely in unison, dancing as steel clashes against steel. The sound of metal echoes through the training grounds.

Maegor touches heaven at last. The force of the power displayed is enough to make him dizzy with bliss. The only thing that keeps him grounded are the heavy strikes of his opponent meant to disarm him to which he responds with equal strength. Neither of the Princes had any intention of yielding to each other. Which each strike of steel their breaths become heavier, their movements slowing down with tiredness but just as relentless as they were in the beginning. Maegor was getting more than a little excited.

With a deep inhale and the rush of renewed energy, Maegor twists his body and surges forward after a particular heavy strike. He uses the short window of time and comes from his blind eye, mirroring Aemond's move that assured his victory in front of Ser Criston Cole earlier at their reunion.

The older Prince stops in surprise when he feels the cold kiss of Nightbringer under his chin, threatening to bite his skin open. Maegor holds a victorious gaze full of confidence and he feels his spine set ablaze.

Aemond smiles and yields in defeat sheathing his blade and raising his hands in defeat. There's a strange spark in his violet eye that peaks Maegor's curiosity and lures him in like a fly to a spider's web.

Nightbringer is removed from Aemond's throat and Maegor barely has time to sheathe it when he is suddenly grasped by the collar of his tunic and pulled upwards. His uncle slams his lips against his own in the heat of the moment. It only lasts a few seconds as they both pulled away equally as stunned by Aemond's actions.

The air no longer feels crisp. It's burning. It's scorching his lungs painfully so. He cannot breathe and it feels like he is dying.

They exchange a brief stare that feels like hours, a war of confliction raging in both of them before Maegor decided to act first this time. He went after Aemond, catching his face in his hand and pressing his lips against him in a tentative and inexperienced kiss, rising his body on his tiptoes to be able to reach him. The older Prince immediately reciprocates and they shift from the middle of the courtyard to the nearest wall where Aemond takes lead and presses Maegor with his back against it. The kiss is quickly deepened when Aemond's hands find their way inside the other's tunic and Maegor shamelessly moans in his mouth like a man starved all his life.

He knew it was utterly lost and broken at that moment. There was no going back now for either of them.

It takes every ounce of strength for Maegor to keep himself standing and not crumble down like a castle of sand when they paused briefly to gasp for air. He takes his time and observes Aemond's face from close proximity. Maegor's fingers trace his features slowly, hesitantly touching the tip of his scar. Aemond allows him, studying his face with a soft gaze.

The fingers trace higher until they hit the edge of the leather eyepatch. Maegor pauses then advances boldly, touching softly the tender tissue under the eyepatch until he finds the glassy surface of what feels like a polished stone. The gasp he manages to draw out of Aemond's quivering lips hits him right in the depths of his core.

"From the moment I met you I always knew you were a true dragon, not like those bastards you call brothers." Aemond closes every bit of space between them and leans his head down so he can press his mouth against his nephew's neck.

"Is that true uncle? Would you let me burn you then?" Maegor smiles victoriously, renewed with a new kind of boldness and confidence he never experienced before. He shivers at the heat that was coming off from Aemond.

"Would you let me burn you until the wind scatters your ashes and fills my lungs with your being?" Aemond groans loudly at the thought and grips Maegor's slender waist with both of his hands as if he had to hold onto something so he wouldn't falter.

He was making Aemond feel like this. It was him alone and no one else. All the bottled up tension from the past day finally spilled over in the best ways possible.

"We shall burn each other like we were always meant to do." The One Eyed Prince whispers, only for them to hear. He inhales deeply the scent of his nephew with a loud sigh.

It was paradise. Maegor no longer held any doubts that Aemond did not reciprocate the feelings and fire that was scorching him.

Both men were branding their minds with every possible sensation of their beings. It could be years until they saw each other again. It could be the last time they ever saw each other.

They stay like that for a few moments longer in each other's arm, basking in the heat, craving the scorching touch until Aemond uses all of his willpower and straightens up with a silent sigh and an apologetic look in his eye.

Maegor understands. If anyone caught them after the events that unfolded during dinner earlier it could bring more unwanted consequences on both of their families. These crumbs that were hastily thrown had to sate their craving for the time being.

Aemond turns to take his leave reluctantly.

"I always keep my promises. Do not forget that." He stops and gives Maegor one last look before departing to his chambers as quick as his walk allowed because he was certain if he stayed a moment longer, if he stole another glance it would be impossible to leave.

Maegor leans back and groans in frustration, sliding down against the stone wall until he finds himself sitting on the ground. The leather pants he was wearing were painfully tight and his mind was in a haze. Aemond was his greatest sin.

We shall burn each other like we were always meant to do.

Everything inside him was howling in both delight and irritation. Dragonless or not the vigor inside him could allow him to slay through an army of men at that moment. He was certain of it.

Somewhere from the cover of balcony, unbeknownst to anyone, a pair of eyes closely watched the two Princes with a glare of scorn.

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merlinrarepairfest · 6 months

Text

Round Up 6

And another week of posting finishes; enjoy all these rare pair goodies if you need a break during the holidays if you celebrate, or to distract yourself from everyone else going nuts! <3

Title: smooth sailin’ Writer: masculinepeacock | @masculinepeacock Rating: T+ Warnings: none Word Count: 1.6k Pairing/Main character; Percival/Gwaine Up to 10 Tags; romcom elements, teachers, winter fair, gwen is mentioned, open ended

Summary:

Percival meets Gwaine at a winter fair and the two hit it off. Is this destined to be a one off, or something more?

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51381598#main

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Title: A Disrupted Destiny Writer: sillydegu | @sillydegu Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None Medium/Word Count: 11 874 Pairing/main characters: Gwaine/Merlin Up to 10 tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gwaine knows about Merlin's magic, Merlin's magic revealed, Episode: s03e04 Gwaine (Merlin), Angst with a happy ending, Gwaine being Gwaine

Summary:

3x04 AU. Uther is not convinced by Arthur, and sentences Gwaine to death anyway. Merlin uses his magic to break Gwaine out of the dungeons, revealing it to Uther in the process. The two of them go on the run together, and fall in love on the way.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51257899

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Title: Knighting Writer: cynthia1314 | @cynthia39100 Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Medium/Word Count: 4670 Pairing/main characters: Lancelot / Arthur Pendragon Up to 10 tags: Episode: s01e05 Lancelot (Merlin), Episode: s03e12-13 The Coming of Arthur (Merlin)

Summary:

Arthur is finally king, free to knight whoever he chooses. Lancelot pledges his life, honour and devotion to him. (Prompt by kairennart)

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51135934

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Title: all the devils are here Writer: litinthyheart | @lit-in-thy-heart Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death Medium/Word Count: 21,000 Pairing/main characters: Lancelot/Merlin Up to 10 tags: Enemies to Lovers, Fae Merlin, POV Lancelot, BAMF Merlin, Execution, Restraints, Intimacy, Internal Conflict

Summary:

In light of half of Camelot's knights being killed in a dragon attack, Uther Pendragon has been forced to broaden the eligibility criteria. Lancelot, who has wanted to be a knight all of his life, is given a quest to prove his worth as a final test before he is knighted. He must kill the leader of the Unseelie Court, Emrys.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51551500/chapters/130293436

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Title: Siblings and Soulmates Writer: Merthurallure | @merthurallure Rating: Explicit Warnings: Incest Medium/Word Count: 1 397 words/fic Pairing/main characters: Arthur/Morgana Up to 10 tags: sibling incest, first time, canon era, PWP

Summary:

Morgana and Arthur enjoy their first time together

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51564880

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Title: Matters of the Heart Writer: The_Questing_Beast | @ummyesisthisjasongrace Rating: General Audiences Warnings: none Medium/Word Count: Fanfiction; 11,313 words Pairing/main characters: Mithian/Morgana Up to 10 tags: Canon Era, Canon Compliant, Arranged Marriage, Slow Burn, Good Morgana, Initial Mithian/Arthur, Fluff and Angst, Mithian really said 'thank god you introduced me to your sister'

Summary:

It's all quite simple, really - marry the King of Camelot, fulfil her duty to her father and her country, become Queen. Or at least that's what Mithian thinks when she arrives in Camelot for the first time. However, things get complicated when the King's half-sister, the Lady Morgana, catches her eye instead. Turns out that no one, not even a Princess, has a say in matters of the heart.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51938515/chapters/131336134

#bbc merlin #merlin rare pair fest #round up post

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everlastingdreams · 1 year

Text

Weeping Monk x Reader : The Patience Of A Heart Chapter 13

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Story Summary: After fire claimed the lives of your family, the monastery of your Uncle Carden becomes your new home. As the niece of a priest you are expected to behave prim and proper, but not even the watchful eyes of the Weeping Monk can see all. An ancient magic returns to life when love and duty begin to blur.

Chapter Title: The Love Of A Son

Notes: Dragging myself through the last two chapters of this fic in the meantime. I guess the stress of daily life is getting to me. I’m sorry. Also, I think this is where the larger chapters start.

Warnings: There’s a list of warnings for this story: Murder. Violence. Death. Angst. Sexism. Strong Language. Trauma. Childhood trauma. Survivor’s guilt. Mentions of child maltreatment. Threat of Sexual assault. PTSD. Misogyny, Self-flagellation. Gore.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Pining. Smut. Spicy content. Little Slow-burn.

Word count of this fic: +120K

Chapter: 13 / lol Gonna keep the chapter count a secret until the end.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The axe narrowly missed the fool who had sneaked up on you.

They had stumbled back before it could cut through their chest.

Their voice was familiar “Bloody hell! Watch out with that thing!”

Your attacks stopped “Green Knight?”

He kept a distance now, weary of the axe in the hands of a spooked woman “Perhaps I shouldn’t have approached you like this. But do you always start swinging weapons? You’ll kill someone.”

Awkwardly you put the axe back were you found it and saw him look relieved “Sorry. I am just trying to be alert.”

He blurted out “That you are.” then pointed at the horse “Found him in the possession of a known thief. He was rather eager to part with this steed after he learned who the horse belonged to.”

You kept quiet, waiting to see if he knew who was in the barn.

The knight made no secret of it “A Fey scout saw two nuns and a boy drag the Weeping Monk onto a wagon in the woods. It’s bound to draw attention.”

In retrospect, that would pull anyone’s attention…

You wondered why he was there “We found them injured, the Trinity Guard tried to kill them. I thought you had been captured… why are you here?”

Gawain explained “I am here for the boy, Percival. And to help your Monk.”

It come out a little defensive “He’s not my Monk.”

The knight would not hear it and casually stated “Yes, he is. They are in the barn aren’t they?”

When he turned to walk to the barn door, you blocked his path and demanded to know “Why would you help him?”

He knew who you were talking about “All Fey are brothers, even the lost ones. I know what he is, y/n, and so do you.”

Was it so obvious that you knew Lancelot so well?

Gawain continued to walk to the barn, you followed in his tracks.

Quickly you informed him “He was badly wounded. Percival has bruises.”

He gestured for you to enter first, already planning ahead “After you.”

You quietly opened the barn door and walked in, only to be whisked away.

The knight was not surprised in the slightest and kept a safe distance while peeking around the corner to see the Ash Man cover your mouth and hold you away from danger, the sword ready in his hand “I come bearing no ill will against you, Brother.”

The sarcasm dripped from Lancelot “You have only come to return my horse?”

The last time he had seen this man, the knight could not even walk anymore. his skin had been burned and marked by Brother Salt, one of those marks resided in his neck and had become nothing more than a strange scar.

As if something rested beneath the scar now.

Gawain dryly answered “I recognized the horse from when you had me draped over it after stabbing me. I decided to return it, you’re welcome.”

You pried the hand from your mouth “He’s here to help. He knows Percival.”

The knight confirmed it “She’s right. I’ve come to take Percival home to his people.”

Lancelot released you but took a defensive stance towards Gawain “The boy is not going anywhere!”

The boy was still sleeping, he would not hand over the child to just anyone.

It did not frighten Gawain in the slightest “It is only a matter of time before they find the two of you, Ash Man. I have heard of the slaughter in the paladin camp. That was you was it not?”

He gave an arrogant nod, then the threat followed “They tried to stop me from keeping Percival safe, learn from their mistake.”

The knight sighed “If you would listen to me for a moment, you would learn that I wish to take the both of you with me. It will be safer where I am heading and as I have told you days ago, we need people who can fight. I meant what I said, those were not just the words of a dying man.”

You shared a look with Lancelot and found yourself moving closer against his side.

Gawain noticed and tried to reason with you as well “He belongs with his people now.”

It broke your heart to hear it. But it was true… only with the Fey would he find answers to everything that still haunted him.

Lancelot remained vigilante “How could I trust you? I do not even know how you survived, the last thing I heard was that you were dying and being taken to Uther’s camp.”

Gawain looked down at the ground “My dear friend saved my life with the power of The Hidden. The ‘witch’ you were ordered to hunt, our Fey queen, sacrificed her life for our people. Father Carden spend weeks hunting down a girl who was braver then all the Red Paladins combined. Percival was her friend too, if that boy is able to trust you then I owe it to the boy to offer you a chance to start anew.”

The Wolf Blood Witch was dead? It was the first he had heard of it.

You made Lancelot lower the sword “This is your chance, Lancelot.”

His attention snapped to you “I cannot just leave you-”

You did not let him protest further “You have to. It is too dangerous to remain here. It is as you said, they will be searching for you. I need you to be safe.” your sight glided to Gawain “I trust the Green Knight. He also came to help the little Fey girl, Neia, remember?”

The knight chimed in “Neia is doing well, she is not as frightful as she first was.”

It pleased you to hear it and you hoped Lancelot would take this opportunity “See. Lancelot, you said you would help Percival get back to the Fey. Like this, the two of you could remain together.”

He had a choice now…a chance to be with his kind, you had to let him take it.

Gawain began to believe it was not the lack of trust that was stopping the Ash Man from tagging along “Now that Father Carden is dead and you’re away, the paladins are disorganized. Now is the time to travel before too many of the Trinity Guards show up. Come with me, Ash Man. You’ll be able to stay alongside the boy, I swear it.”

Lancelot’s expression changed completely “What?”

You couldn’t believe it either “Did you just say that my uncle is dead?”

The knight had thought the news would have reached you by now “I am sorry. He did not survive the attack on Uther’s camp.”

You had not know your uncle well enough to mourn, but Lancelot had.

The sword was lowered and he moved past Gawain to walk out and towards Goliath.

You feared he would ride off to somewhere, which would be unwise in his condition, instead he stopped right beside the horse.

He took hold of the reins and faced away from the direction you and the knight were in.

You pointed to where the boy was sleeping “Percival is sleeping over there, feel free to wake him and speak to him. I need to speak to Lancelot alone for a moment.”

Gawain understood, he was no stranger to the stories of the Weeping Monk spending his whole life protecting the priest.

When you neared him, it was clear he had gone to the loyal steed for comfort.

The outlines of the marks beneath his closed eyes were glowing red, tears traced their path down his cheek. The magic in him reached the surface by the suffering the news had caused in him.

You didn’t know what to say…

So, you went to stand right next to him, your arm touching his, your hand went to rest on his shoulder.

Everything he felt was conflicting inside, sorrow and rage combined their power and tore him down. All these years, everything had been to earn the love of a father and salvation. And now he would never have either.

Father had forced his hand and pushed him past any limit, he had raised him into a weapon.

And still, to know that he would never have Father’s recognition pained him greatly.

In the end, nothing he had done mattered.

The only thing left was the blood of the Feys, of his kind, on his hands.

And here he was, mourning the man who had made him into what he was.

A traitor to the Church and to his people.

His mouth opened to speak, he couldn’t bring out what he wished to say “I…”

It was heartbreaking to see “Breath.”

He took the advice and took a couple of shallow breaths “I do not want to become him.”

He was tired of walking the path forced on him, it had numbed all he was.

To survive…the expectations had suffocated the hope and faith out of him.

And he was ashamed of it, even now.

Your voice was quiet “You won’t.”

His tone was almost a snarl “Then why can I not hate him?”

After every insult, every threat and every hit…

It wasn’t personal, he was mourning “You were taught not to.”

Finally, his eyes opened and sought yours.

Taught…

To obey.

To serve.

To kill.

Deep down, he knew it was true “Is that what you believe?”

Did he fear you questioned if his sorrow was real?

You never let go off his shoulder “He raised you. You were just a child. What we say to children influences them, words of love or hatred, no matter how little. I believe you loved him, even after everything he has done to you.”

He turned and caught your hand as it moved from his shoulder.

You could see him calm himself, but his eyes betrayed him still.

With both hands, he held on to yours “I need to know the truth about the Fey, about what I am. I will only learn if I search for the answers myself.”

No more scriptures, no more lies or inaccuracies. He needed to know the truth.

He prepared himself to say it “You were right.” eyes locked on yours “I owe it to the Fey. I shall go with the Green Knight.”

Hearing it made you proud and sad at the same time, proud that he was allowing himself to grow and sad that it meant you would be seperated again.

It must have been visible on your face, because he softly brushed his knuckles down your cheek.

Staying here for much longer would endanger you and Sister Anne, he prayed you could forgive him “I am sorry.”

Even though your voice broke, you still managed a small smile “I understand. All I want is for you to find your happiness.”

He frowned, then firmly spoke “I have.” and lightly cupped your cheek “I hope it will still be here when I return for it.”

It had sounded like a request…

This time the smile was genuine “Fear not, the mark will still be there when you do.”

It brought him some peace of mind to know that you would not break the bond.

Goliath brought out a noise and bumped his nose into the side of Lancelot’s head, clearly done with his rider’s shenanigans.

It was needed to pull him back to the matters at hand, he took hold of the halter and scolded “Patience, Goliath.”

The look you shared was bittersweet, this was a goodbye.

Again…

He read your eyes and assured “When it is safer, I will return for you. I swear it.”

There was no doubt in your mind about it “I know.”

Such trust in him…

You saw his gaze drop from your eyes and land on your lips.

He seemed to snap himself out of the trance and signaled for you to walk beside him while he leaded the horse to the barn door.

Lancelot saw how Percival was awake and very happy to see the Green Knight alive “Green Knight?”

Gawain turned to look at the Ash Man “Have you decided?”

He gave a nod and went to put the aketon on and take his cloak “I will join you along with Percival.”

Percival was pleased to hear it and came to hand you the cloak back “So, we are all going together?”

Gawain had to explain it to the boy “I am sorry, Percival. Y/n won’t be able to come along. It would not be safe for her. As Father Carden’s niece, the Church will have their eyes on her whereabouts. Once some time has passed, it will be safer for her to join us.”

You would draw attention and there was a high possibility that the Fey would not be happy to have you around, Lancelot alone would already be faced with discontent.

It halted the boy “But-”

Lancelot felt the storm coming “No ‘but’.” he turned to you “May we take the basket with us?”

You went to grab it for them and handed it to Percival “If you give me a moment, I can go and see if I can find more food in the abbey’s kitchen.”

He wanted to refuse the offer, but it was Gawain who considered it wise.

Food was difficult to come by for the Fey.

The knight spoke up “If you could, that would be great.”

You headed out of the barn and made the short walk to the abbey.

The only thing you truly worried about was that the Abbess would be drinking her nightly ‘tea’ again.

It was nerve-wracking to open the door that led directly into the kitchen. All was dark, no candlelight to be seen.

Good.

You took another basket and began to fill it with what you could find and what wouldn’t be caught missing easily.

A loaf of bread, some more cheese and berries. A tomato,a carrot and two apples…

Then you sneaked to your room and went through some of your finished knitted items, grabbing the scarf you had finished last week.

Somewhere between the search for items, tears had fled from your eyes at the impending second separation.

You tried to hold yourself together and even wondered if he could feel your sorrow through the mark that linked you to him, as you had felt his pain and sorrow through it.

With the basket filled, you sneaked out of the abbey again.

While passing Goliath, you broke the carrot into smaller pieces and fed it to him.

As you were doing that, the three of them walked out of the barn.

They were leaving already…

You had to keep your focus on Goliath or risked crying in front of them.

Gawain gestured to the horse while speaking to Lancelot “You should ride. I will walk.”

Lancelot looked at Percival, curious whether the boy would choose to ride or walk “And you?”

The boy thought for a second, then shrugged his shoulders “I’ll walk for a while.”

You moved passed them and into the barn, correctly assuming he’d forget something important.

They were all looking when you walked out again and towards Lancelot “You forgot the ointment. Use it everyday until your wounds feel better.”

The bowl was handed to him and he stored it into Goliath’s saddle bag, hoping it would not spill.

You took the moment to say your farewells to Percival, lifting a finger under his cheek while doing so “Such a brave and handsome young lad you are. Don’t get into too much trouble.”

Both Gawain and Lancelot were amused by how the boy started to resemble the tomato in the basket you had brought.

You took the scarf from the basket and placed it neatly around Percival’s neck “This will keep you a little warmer.”

Percival quietly uttered “Thank you.”

Gawain spoke under his breath to Lancelot “I never saw him so quiet before.”

Ah, so it was indeed uncommon.

Your gaze traveled to Lancelot, who came closer upon noticing it.

His eyes flowed over your face slow like a river’s stream “I won’t get into too much trouble.”

The jest was returned “You’re just saying that in the hopes that I’ll call you handsome and brave too.”

He hummed and failed to fight off that boyish smile.

You gestured to him “Be careful. And don’t tear those stitches open.”

He was well aware of the curious looks aimed at him by Percival and the knight, it is why he moved closer to you so little and hoped you would understand the intention and request behind it.

That small step closer had you curious until realization hit, he would not ask… not when others were near and not in words.

And it was not necessary, you would always oblige the unspoken request.

When you closed the distance and pulled him into an embrace, you could’ve sworn he let out a relieved sigh. And perhaps you were being a little demanding by hugging him so tightly, yet no complaints came.

You felt him bring a hand to your back and lightly grabbing hold.

Percival looked up at the display, sensing that something was…odd.

Gawain already suspected what that ‘oddness’ was, he cleared his throat and watched the two of you break apart “We should be heading out.”

The last thing Lancelot did before mounting Goliath was give your arm a comforting squeeze.

The Green Knight made a slight bow before heading off with them into the woods.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

After sneaking yourself back into the abbey and to your room, you couldn’t fall asleep.

How long would it be before you would see him again?

Would they be safe? Would the food be enough until they reached the place Gawain had in mind?

It kept you wide awake through the rest of the night. In the morning you went to Anne’s room to tell her they were gone, you left out the part where Gawain had come to find them, it was best for her not to know too many details on something that could get her into trouble for knowing them.

She was cutting the carrots beside you in the kitchen that noon, while you washed and cut the tomatoes, her voice a hushed whisper “I can’t believe the Monk is walking again. Do you think some Feys have the ability to heal faster than normal?”

You looked around to see if someone was listening in “I don’t know. I never thought of it.”

But now that she mentioned it…

She tempered her own curiosity “I shouldn’t be asking. If the Abbess knew I have helped Fey-kind, she would probably hand me over to the paladins for judgment.”

You understood the concern “I am sorry for dragging you into this. I know you have taken great risks when you decided to help me.”

She wouldn’t hear it “I would not feel good if I turned my back on someone who needed help. You didn’t drag me into anything.”

You handed her the tomatoes that were finished “Well, you certainly earned yourself another pair of socks.”

Anne was not opposed to it “Make sure they fit.”

The witty remark was deserved, you really needed to practice knitting socks more “Alright, alright, I’ll do my best.”

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Later that day, the Abbess had summoned you to talk.

Of course you feared someone might have seen something and told her. But the Abbess’ reason to speak to you privately was to inform you of your uncle’s passing.

Fear turned to relief, until you realized that relief was not what the Abbess would be expecting.

You felt a little guilty for having to pretend to feel sad at the news, you weren’t happy, but your short time with the man had not given you many reasons to miss him.

The Abbess was kind enough to relieve you of your duties for the day.

You had went to your room and began knitting, perhaps it was silly, but you hoped to make some things for when you would see them again. Especially for Percival, some warm socks and maybe even a hat if that would be possible.

Anne had found you a small book on knitting that held some descriptions on how to make some items. It was a clever gift considering the sizing mistake you had made before.

You would need to get more yarn at the market soon, it was almost all used up.

To delay that, you took apart some things you had made that were flawed to make the new items.

It was half a miracle that you were able to finish a pair of socks, and after bringing them to Anne you found out they were the right size this time.

Evening came and you had finished half a scarf when your eyes grew heavy. After putting the needles and yarn aside, you laid down to rest.

With the promise of his return, sleep came rather quick.

Only for it to be taken away so rudely when you were awoken the next morning by people nearly kicking your door in.

The Abbess tried to calm and reason with those who had come to collect you while poor Anne stood frozen in fear.

Masks of gold hid the faces of the armed force that dragged you from the room.

Taglist:

@ourlazydetectivekitten @the-great-adventures-of-me @linkpk88 @fxrchxldws @elenaoftheturks @slytherlight @beananacake @crystallizedtime @moonlightaura03 @angrygardendeer @have-aheart @5am-cigarette @arcanenature @thewinterskywalker @notyourwildestdream @coloursforyourportrait @koressecretidentity @nike90 @n1ghtlux @rachlovesactors @luckyzipperscissorsbat @morena-doing-stuff @the-fangirl-diaries @gipsydanger17 @heavenly1927 @phantasmalbeiing @labyrinthonmymind @asarcastic-thiamstan @rainyv-skies

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story.

#weeping monk #theweepingmonk #the weeping monk x reader #weeping monk x you #weepingmonk #lancelot #lancelot x reader #reader x lancelot #lancelot fic #Cursed Netflix #cursed #lancelot cursed #cursed fic #netflix cursed #daniel sharman character #Daniel Sharman

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thephantomcasebook · 2 years

Note

I’m a pretty casual fan of ASOIAF, Lord of the Rings is more my style, but I’ve been reading some of the lore recently and I’m absolutely delighted by how many parallels and clear inspirations GRRM took from Arthurian legend. Aemond in particular caught my attention because he bears such a striking resemblance to Mordred in so many ways in terms of his role in the narrative. Mutual kill with his uncle? Check. Close relationship with an evil sorceress? Check. Mommy issues? Check. Doomed by the historical narrative? Check. Are you a fan of Arthurian legend? What are your thoughts?

Same.

I'm pretty steeped in ASoIF lore - though Martin continues to change the lore at convenience - but I'm a bigger Tolkien fan and nerd than G.R.R. Martin. Especially Tolkien's First Age Stories like "Beren and Luthien" & "Children of Hurin".

"Beren & Luthien" might be the greatest story ever told. Around Christmas I put that chapter on when I'm out doing Christmas shopping and when I'm out on my Birthday.

And "Children of Hurin" is one of my favorite books of all time - the audiobook as read by Christopher Lee is beyond epic. And has been one of the biggest influences on my writing.

As for Arthurian Legend, I grew up on it. My old man was a geek before the word really existed and he was into fantasy. So, I was introduced into Knights and Chivalry at a very - very - early age. Especially in the early-2000's when "Lord of the Rings" was big but there wasn't a lot of it available where I lived, my 11-13 year old self's want for Lord of the Rings anything sent me back down into the Arthurian rabbit hole.

I grew up with and still love "Excalibur" and the Merlin Mini-Series from the late-90's that Jim Henson and NBC did.

It's funny you bring up Tolkien and Arthurian Myth because I've written Downton Abbey fanfiction for years and a lot of the story series is based on "The Children of Hurin" by Tolkien and I used archetypes from Arthurian Legend for the characters. I steeped a lot of those Downton Abbey stories in an Arthurian mold and Tolkien sensibilities.

As for Aemond being Mordred.

Oh, you done done it now, my friend.

You got me started.

If I might expand your ascertain of Aemond being Mordred.

The way I see it is that Alicent is Guinevere and Criston is Lancelot. Aemond is most definitely Mordred. And Daeron is absolutely Galahad.

I would postulate that both Aemond and Daeron are the sons of Alicent and Criston's duality. Of course, I don't mean literally - but figuratively. They were both born after Alicent and Criston devoted themselves to one another, both were raised by the two, and both look at Criston is more of a father than Viserys. Unlike say Aegon and Helaena. Both Aemond and Daeron see Alicent and Criston as their parents.

Much like Mordred, I see Aemond as sort of the manifestation of all of Alicent and Criston's sins of envy and lust, not just of Rhaenyra's transgressions, but of their want for one another. Aemond bears Criston's hatred and Alicent's anger. He is a creation, a creature, of that darker and more human side of a virtuous and righteous idealistic veneer.

While, much like Galahad, Daeron embodies the ennobling features of Criston and Alicent's relationship. He is the dutiful and virtuous figure that his mother strives to be and the stalwart and just warrior that Criston tries to maintain. Making him the noblest of all knights.

While Aemond carries Alicent and Criston's humanity and flaws

Daeron bears their idealism and dreams.

The two showing the almost duality of their parent's two natures as a whole.

#House of the Dragon #Alicent Hightower #Criston Cole #Aemond Targaryen #Alicole #alicent x criston #Daeron Targaryen #Arthurian Legend #Arthurian Mythology

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four-loose-screws · 1 year

Text

FE7 Novelization Translation: Book 2 - Front Cover & Introductory Pages

Happy 2023 all!

At a giant ~360 pages, this book alone is going to command almost an entire year to itself! Enjoy spending an entire year reading everything this novelized rendition of FE7's story has to offer.

Covers

Fire Emblem: The Blazing Blade ~ The Binding Blade

Turmoil in Elibe

Book 2

By Masaka Kazuyoshi

Illustrated by Kaneda Eiji

Published by Square Enix

Eliwood leaves on a journey to follow the trail of his missing father, Marquess Elbert of Pherae.

Along the way, he joins forces with his friend Hector, next-in-line of Ostia; and together with their dependable allies, they arrive within Laus territory. However, they do not achieve their goal there, only finding themselves pursuing even more mysteries and continuing on their journey.

Eliwood, together with Hector, and Lyndis of Caelin…

Their journey is now on a course towards its final stage, where the remaining mysteries will all be revealed.

This historic turmoil that ripples across all of Elibe, and the first half of this story, will reach their climax here in this book!

Title Page

Fire Emblem

From “The Blazing Blade” to “The Binding Blade”

Turmoil in Elibe

Book 2

Table of Contents

Chapter 8: Noble Lady of Caelin

Chapter 9: Dragon’s Gate

Chapter 10: New Resolve

Chapter 11: Four-Fanged Offense

Chapter 12: Cog of Destiny

Chapter 13: Light

Continent of Elibe

Character Introductions

Fire Emblem: The Blazing Sword Book 2

Characters

Eliwood

[Lycian League・Prince of Pherae]

The main character of the latter part of this first story. He sets out on a journey to find his missing father, Elbert.

Marcus

[Lycian League・Knight in Service to House Pherae]

A senior knight of the Knights of Pherae. He risks his life to protect Eliwood.

Lowen

[Lycian League・Freshly Recruited Knight of House Pherae]

A fresh recruit of the Knights of Pherae. He is being trained personally by Marcus.

Rebecca

[Lycian League・Archer Living in Pherae]

The daughter of the village magistrate of a village in the mountains. She is traveling with Eliwood after he saved her village.

Bartre

[The Western Isles・Axe Fighter Who Boasts of His Strength]

Hired as a mercenary by Eliwood while staying at a village in Pherae. Honors duty and morality.

Dorcas

[The Kingdom of Bern・Powerful Axe Fighter]

Bartre’s partner. Currently working away from home as a mercenary to save money for his wife. Though he is a man of few words, he has a gentle and friendly personality.

Hector

[Lycian League・Next-in-Line of Ostia]

The second main character of the latter half of this first story. As Eliwood’s best friend, he rushes to his aid as much as he can. He joins Eliwood on his journey to find Elbert.

Matthew

[Lycian League・Spy of House Ostia]

He conducts work from the shadows at his lord’s orders. He is working with Hector, having taken a liking to him.

Oswin

[Lycian League・Armor Knight in Service to House Ostia]

A loyal retainer of Uther. He travels with Eliwood on his journey to watch over Hector.

Serra

[Lycian League・Cleric in Service to House Ostia]

Chases after Hector with Oswin to serve as a medic. A loud and self-absorbed young woman.

Guy

[Sacae Plains・Swordfighter of the Lorca Tribe]

A young man on a journey aiming to become a swordfighter of Sacae. He is indebted to Matthew.

Merlinus

[The Kingdom of Etruria・Traveling Merchant]

A wealthy merchant who travels across each region of the continent. Eliwood saves him when he is attacked by ruffians in Santaruz territory.

Priscilla

[The Kingdom of Etruria・Daughter of Count Caerleon]

She visits Laus, a territory of Lycia, for personal reasons, but the first time the marquess lays eyes on her, he prevents her from leaving (see Book 1).

Erk

[The Kingdom of Etruria・Mage-in-Training]

He is entrusted as Priscilla’s guard by his magic teacher. He dreads reuniting with one of his previous employers, Serra (see Book 1).

Lyn (Full name: Lyndis)

[Sacae Plains・Sword Fighter of the Lorca Tribe]

Main character of the first book of the first half of this story. After the inheritance dispute in Caelin one year ago, she was formally recognized as next-in-line to become the marquess.

Kent

[Lycian League・Knight in Service to House Caelin]

The new commander of the Knights of Caelin, whom Lady Lyndis trusts deeply.

Sain

[Lycian League・Knight in Service to House Caelin]

Kent’s partner and sub-commander of the Knights of Caelin. He can’t help but flirt with every girl he sees.

Florina

[Knights of Ilia・Pegasus Knight-in-Training]

A close friend of Lyn’s. Currently serves House Caelin. She was afraid of men and a crybaby, but now…

Wil

[Lycian League・Archer in Service to House Caelin]

A cheerful young man who fought with Lyn during the inheritance dispute one year ago (see Book 1), and continues to serve her as an officer.

Raven

[Lycian League・Mercenary Under Contract with House Caelin]

An aloof swordsman with a darkness in his eyes. His skills are so great that he can serve as Lyn’s sword fighting partner.

Lucius

[The Kingdom of Etruria・Raven’s Attendant]

A kind-hearted monk who fought with Lyn during the inheritance dispute one year ago (see Book 1).

Ninian

[Traveling Dancer]

A young woman who, alongside her younger brother Nils, has been saved by both Lyn and Eliwood (see book 1). She has the power to predict danger.

Nils

[Traveling Bard]

Ninian’s younger brother. He has the same mysterious power as his sister.

Isadora

[Lycian League・Female Knight in Service to House Pherae]

Commander of Eliwood’s mother, Eleanora’s, guard. She serves as leader of the Knights of Pherae in Commander Marcus’ absence.

Rath

[Sacae Plains・Archer of the Kutolah Tribe]

A warrior from the plains and man of few words. One year ago, after seeing Lyn off in Caelin, his whereabouts became unknown.

Pent

[The Kingdom of Etruria・Count Reglay]

A sage who, as a high-ranking noble of Etruria, holds the position of current mage general. While working to excavate a magical artifact in the Nabata Desert, he is attacked by a group of thieves.

Louise

[The Kingdom of Etruria・Spouse of Count Reglay]

Pent’s wife. Though she is gentle and sheltered, she is also a first-rate archer.

Hawkeye

[The Missur Peninsula・Berserker from the Nabata Desert]

A large man of few words with a muscular physique. He guides those who enter the desert.

Athos

[?]

A mysterious old man who lives in the Nabata Desert.

Elbert

[Lycian League・Marquess Pherae]

Eliwood’s father, who suddenly went missing half a year ago.

Eleanora

[Lycian League・Spouse of Marquess Pherae]

Eliwood’s mother. As she waits for her husband and son to return home, she prays for their safety.

Uther

[Lycian League・Marquess Ostia]

The new marquess of House Ostia, Lycia’s leading power. Hector’s older brother.

Leila

[Lycian League・Spy of House Ostia]

Currently infiltrating the mysterious “Black Fang.” Matthew’s beloved.

Desmond

[The Kingdom of Bern・King of Bern]

The King of Bern, a country proud of its great military might. He thinks little of his wife Hellene and his son Zephiel.

Zephiel

[The Kingdom of Bern・Prince of Bern]

An intelligent prince with all the qualities of a benevolent ruler. He works hard to gain his father, the king’s, approval.

Darin

[Lycian League・Marquess Laus]

A greedy marquess. He is plotting a rebellion against Ostia. He holds clues about the disappearance of Marquess Pherae.

Ephidel

[Mysterious Man Dressed in Black]

The mastermind controlling Marquess Darin of Laus from the shadows in Lycia.

Brendan Reed

[Leader of the Black Fang]

Leader of the “Black Fang,” an assassin organization, once known as chivalrous assassins.

Sonya

[?]

Brendan’s second wife. A bewitching beauty who ensnares men in her clutches.

Lloyd

[Leader of the Four Fangs, the Top Assassins of the Black Fang]

An exceptionally skilled swordsman also known as the White Wolf. He possesses the ability to make calm decisions, and is Brendan’s oldest son.

Linus

[Member of the Four Fangs, the Top Assassins of the Black Fang]

A hero also known as the Mad Dog for his fierce fighting style. He always works with his older brother Lloyd.

Jaffar

[Member of the Four Fangs, the Top Assassins of the Black Fang]

An assassin known as the Angel of Death, who completes his work with a lack of emotion unlike any other.

Ursula

[Member of the Four Fangs, the Top Assassins of the Black Fang]

Also known as the Black Crow. A cruel Valkyrie entirely devoted to Sonia.

Legault

[Ex-Member of the Black Fang・Thief]

Disgusted with the changes to the Black Fang, he decides to leave the organization. Also known as the Hurricane.

Nino

[Member of the Black Fang]

Sonia’s adopted daughter. Though her mother thinks nothing of her, she bravely acts bright and cheerful.

Limstella

[?]

Nergal’s loyal servant. Their gender and true colors are both unknown. They are gathering something for their master.

Nergal

[?]

The mysterious man that Limstella, Ephidel, and Sonia serve.

#fire emblem #fe #fe7 #fire emblem 7 #the blazing blade #the blazing sword #fe7 the blazing sword #lyn #lyndis #eliwood #hector #gba #game boy advance #japanese #japan #translation #novel #light novel #fe7 novelization translation

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emblematicemblazer · 3 months

Text

World building and theories of Engage

Solm and freedom

Solm is associated with the theme of freedom and this is represented by the royal family. Unlike the royalty of the other kingdoms they are bound by duty to their castles. Sefonia, Timerra and Fogado freely travel throughout the kingdom to perform their duties. In Chapter 12; The Sentinels and Chapter 13; Heroes of the Oasis, Diamant, Alfred and Alear are surprised to learn that the Prince and princess are hardly ever at the castle, Alfred comments that

“You can't leave your castle whenever you want.”

The freedom to leave the castle is one way Solm and freedom are related, another is the way the Prince and Princess get to choose their retainers. There are no educational or strength requirements, no cronyism and their mother does not select for them. Fogado chose Bunet as his personal chef and retainer because of their friendship and his cooking talents. As his retainer he could make certain that he would never lose track of his friend again. Pandreo was chosen due to friendship as well. Timerra selected Merrin because Martin dreamed of being a knight and Panette was a fierce friend who she fought alongside. Fogado and Timerra prioritise friendship over anything else. Their friends could be anyone from a chef turned mercenary, a partying cleric, the runaway matriarch of a tribe or a thuggish lady taking her rage out on people.

The royalty have no rules or standards of etiquette as discovered in Panette's support conversation with Boucheron. She learns that Firene has quite rigid standards whereas Solm has none. This freedom of behaviour is reflected throughout Solm society; Alcryst learns that there are no restrictions nor rules at a party when he finds it hard to enjoy a Pandreo party in their support conversations. He starts to enjoy himself when he is free to move as he pleases.

Singing is another Solm symbol of freedom. Anyone can sing, no matter how out of tune they may be.

Each retainer expresses freedom by defying expectations and living as they please.

Bunet - he desires to live as a chef, despite being a retainer, he is hardly ever seen training or fighting in his supports instead he tends to his garden and comes up with flavour combinations. H e has the freedom to expand his flavour experiences beyond the kitchen, anything from a chandelier in the Somniel to a flower in a flower crowd could be a flavour adventure. Sometimes people are taken aback by the way he interacts but Fogado understands him.

Pandreo - His love for partying represents his freedom to show his devotion in his unique way, even if some clergymen disapprove. There are no rules at his parties, you can dance as you please, interact how you want and enjoy yourself. Pandreo is opened minded enough to offer prayers to Veyle and to pray beside Mauvier who is a worshipper of the Fell Dragon. Commoner (Louis) and noble (Alcryst) alike are invited to party with him.

Merrin - She was destined to be the matriarch of her tribe but her destiny to become a knight made her leave and explore Solm. Once she had left her tribe she was free to carve her path as a knight, fortunately she happened upon Timerra and became her friend.

Panette - Her freedom started with her leaving her parents and raging around Solm looking for a fight. When she met Timerra and became a retainer she was free to adjust her personality as she desired. She felt the need to be more ladylike. Timerra was happy to love and accept whoever she wanted to be, even when other people called her a fake.

The wolf and birds are two animals used to represent Solm and can both symbolise freedom.

Seadall was part of a travelling caravan who was free to live beside nature and roam as pleased. As an orphan he was invited to join and become part of a large family where he was taught to dance.

#fire emblem engage #fe engage

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captainswanapproved · 1 year

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An Indecent Proposal- Chapter 19

A03,Prologue, Chapter 1,Chapter 2,Chapter 3, Chapter 4,Chapter 5,Chapter 6,Interlude,Chapter 7,Chapter 8,Chapter 9,Chapter 10,Chapter 11,Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18

Daemon x Rhaenyra Multichapter AU:

Daemon leaves Rhaenyra at her wedding feast. Rhaenyra marries Laenor. After a year of trying to do their duty and produce an heir, Rhaenyra writes to Daemon.

She needs a true Targaryen heir.

It only needs to be an arrangement of business, she says. And it would result in Daemon’s child one day taking the Iron Throne.

Daemon accepts the proposal and returns to court.

Only, ventures like these are never simple. As much as they would wish to, Daemon and Rhaenyra cannot let go of the past, or the feelings they once had for each other.

124 AC

“Muña!” Aegon the Younger cried in the middle of a stormy night.

Rhaenyra burst into her youngest son’s bedchamber at Dragonstone. She wrapped her arms around the child. “What is it, my love.”

“Egg,” Aegon said, pointing to the iron egg warmer in the fire. “Gone.”

Rhaenyra hurried over and withdrew the warmer from the fire, ignoring the heat as she opened the lid. Thank goodness true Targaryens did not burn. Her son had yet to learn this though, and was frightened by some sort of vision that had intruded his dreams.

The egg was not gone though. It had solidified into stone. A dragon would not hatch from this egg.

***

Alicent was beginning to wonder if the gods were punishing her.

Her beloved Daeron had lost his eye. The maesters had been able to save his life, but only just.

Then, the first month of the year, she had felt the quickening of a baby. To make matters worse, this pregnancy had been her most difficult yet, making her weak and bedridden since having felt the first movements. She feared that this would be the last child she could cary, which would leave her amount of heirs smaller than her rivals.

Her saving grace was that she knew this one belonged to her husband. But Ser Criston was joyful that he would soon have another child.

Alicent knew that her lover was becoming a liability, seeing as she had denied him access to her bed for months. Still, their last joining had been close enough that Criston could be convinced that the babe was his. That would keep him loyal.

But only until the babe was born and Ser Criston saw signature Targaryen features. Then her knight would turn on her and Alicent would have to dispose of him.

Alicent looked down at her rounded abdomen. She would know how to act soon enough.

***

Three months later, Alicent gave birth to a little girl with silver-gold hair and brilliant amethyst eyes.

She was named Maegelle, and declared to be the epitome of Targaryen beauty by the king.

Alicent’s lip curled in satisfaction as Viserys presented the babe to court.

Ser Criston was blessedly out of King’s Landing on a quest. Daemon, Rhaenyra, and their horde of bastard children had arrived to see the new Targaryen child.

But thanks to her father’s machinations, the false Aegon had no dragon. Alicent would ensure that Maegelle had one.

At this very moment, Criston Cole was journeying to Dragonstone to steal the last of Syrax’s most recent clutch of eggs. The foolish little bitch had left it barely protected at her ancestral seat.

The eggs in King’s Landing were tainted. But the last egg in Dragonstone was unmolested and sure to produce a dragon.

Maegelle, a true Targaryen princess, would have what she deserved.

Ser Criston would bring back an egg, and if he was caught in his attempt, Alicent would not have to dispose of him herself.

Her fortunes had turned.

***

“Must you leave us?” Rhaenyra asked, after the children were safely tucked away in their chambers.

“It will only be for one night, my love,” Dameon said, kissing her tenderly, then he bent to kiss Rhaenyra’s abdomen.

“Our new prince or princess will need a dragon egg.”

“Our next child will not be born for months, my love,” Rhaenyra said, only having felt the quickening that afternoon, but it had spurred Daemon to action.

“Perhaps not, but as much as it pains me to say, I believe it is best if we move our permanent residence to King’s Landing.”

“Why? We have been so content at Dradonstone. You have been able to maintain your position as Hand while the children have not been forced into the proximity of our enemies.”

Daemon smiled sadly. Indeed, he had been happier in the recent years than he ever had been in his life, solely because of Rhaenyra and his children. But happiness had a price. “In our absence, the Green Bitch has brought Viserys under her thrall once again. And now she has given him a daughter. You, more than anyone, know his weakness for daughters. We cannot keep travelling back and forth. We must keep a closer eye on the little harlot and her spawn.”

Rhaenyra nodded. It was a wise move to make, but the idea of living in King’s Landing full time after spending so many happy months at Dragonstone with her family made Rhaenyra’s heart ache.

Daemon seemed to sense her thoughts. “I will make the arrangements and return to you and our family as soon as I can.”

Rhaenyra nodded and squeezed his hand. “See that you do.”

***

Ser Criston Cole panted as he leaned against the damp stone wall.

The caverns of Dragonstone were nearly endless. How was he meant to find Syrax’s last egg?

His second child deserved a dragon, especially considering how poor Daeron had suffered.

Ser Criston knew his relationship with his queen had been imperfect as of late. He had been unable to bed her in months. But he still loved her, and would serve her until his dying day.

With that in mind, Ser Criston hurried through the catacombs. He would find that egg and present it to his beloved queen, and she would finally welcome him back to her bed.

So caught up in his fantasies of pleasuring Alicent, Criston was unaware of the footsteps that joined his.

A moment later, the knight felt a blade at his back. A strong arm wrapped around his neck. “What are you doing here, Ser Crispin?”

Ser Criston’s blood turned to ice.

He’d been caught. And Prince Daemon would surely stop at nothing to ensure a deadly punishment was doled out.

When Ser Criston refused to reveal his purpose—though it would surely be obvious to anyone with a modicum of intelligence—the world faded away.

***

Ser Criston awoke the following night in the dungeon of the Red Keep, his wrists shackled to the wall.

“What is the meaning of this? I am the Queen’s protector!”

A guard appeared at the door of his cell. “You were,” the man said, his voice disdainful, “And now you are guilty of treason. Your trial will take place on the morrow.”

“I need to see the Queen,” Ser Criston argued. “Surely she will pardon me. Please, I will see to it that you are rewarded with gold if you bring her here with haste.”

The guard appeared to be conflicted, but eventually the promise of gold won out.

Alicent appeared in the dungeon half an hour later, resplendent in a gown of green brocade. But her lovely face was drawn and pinched.

“You are a fool. I have no use for fools at my side in these dangerous times,” Alicent hissed.

“I went to Dragonstone on your orders,” Ser Criston argued.

“And you failed. You were caught by Prince Daemon, who has spent the day providing the king with evidence of your treachery.”

“My treachery? I have only ever done your bidding.”

Alicent smiled. “I believe you’ll find, Ser Criston, that I am completely innocent of your attempts to unlawfully obtain a dragon. The witness I sent to Prince Daemon has ensured your guilt. You will be tried and sentenced tomorrow.”

Ser Criston stared in disbelief at the queen. “Why would you do this to me? I am the father of two of your children.”

“You are the father of my third son. I was a fool to let you get me with child. You have never been the most clever or ruthless, and now, even your loyalty has run its course.”

“I would do anything for you, Alicent, and for our children.” Ser Criston protested.

Alicent’s eyes gleamed malevolently. “Would you? Maegelle is a true Targaryen with true Targaryen features. I knew the moment she was born that you would betray us. Your pride will not allow you to defend her. And so I am forced to act in the interest of her protection. Goodbye, Ser Criston.”

Alicent swept out of the dungeons, leaving Ser Criston to stew in anger and betrayal. How dare Alicent open her legs to the old king again, when she had already given Viserys three legitimate children. Ser Criston thought that his queen belonged to him, body, soul and heart.

He curled his fingers into a fist. If his fate was to die on the morrow, Criston Cole vowed that he would drag Alicent down with him.

***

All things considered, convincing Viserys of Ser Criston’s guilt had been almost too easy.

Especially when one of the Queen’s attendants came to him with a story of Ser Criston’s betrayal, swearing that the knight had acted alone in trying to procure a dragon egg. That Queen Alicent had begged him to reconsider and ordered him to go to Dorne instead of Dragonstone.

Daemon knew that Alicent was complicit. Furthermore, he was certain that Cole and the Green Bitch had conspired to steal the egg that had been presented to Daeron. Fate had taken care of that. But another attempt could not go unpunished. As it was, the attendant's testimony was a neat little tale that ensured Ser Criston’s death sentence and absolved the queen of guilt, which had been enough for Viserys. Daemon would settle for the result.

The next day, the court assembled in the throne room.

Daemon’s fingers curled around the hilt of Dark Sister as the evidence against Ser Criston was presented. Daemon kept his eyes on the Green Bitch, wondering why she had turned against her protector. Likely it was due to the birth of her daughter, who once again, had the looks of a Targaryen.

Princess Maegelle was still a half-breed, but Daemon knew that Viserys was the girl’s father.

He suppose it didn’t matter why Alicent lost faith in her lover. Soon, another in opposition to Rhaenyra’s rule would be disposed of. Daemon was certain the queen would eventually take a new lover, and when she did, Daemon would ensure that she was discovered and cast off.

After a quarter of an hour, the evidence was presented. Viserys rose from his throne and declared the verdict. “Ser Criston Cole, you are charged with attempted theft of a dragon egg and high treason against the Crown. For this, you will be put to death.”

The crowd’s response to the declaration was mixed. Those loyal to the Blacks began to shout for Ser Criston’s head, while those loyal to the Greens looked saddened and dismayed. The Green Bitch, however, looked carefully triumphant.

Daemon supposed he could not blame her. He had always hated the Dornish knight.

To his left, Rhaenyra stood still, her beautiful face carefully composed. She had once harbored a tendré for the knight, but Daemon knew that nothing remained of that youthful infatuation. Still, Rhaenyra had always been compassionate, never taking death lightly. Her mercy and benevolence often stayed his hand, but it would not do so today.

Daemon left Rhaenyra’s side, stepping up to where Ser Criston knelt. As the Hand, and the executioner, Daemon prepared to do his duty to his king. He held Dark Sister to Ser Criston’s throat. “Do you have any last words?”

The knight drew a breath. “Yes. Prince Daeron is my son. The Queen is a traitorous whore.”

Many in the crowd gasped. Daeron the Dornish was what people called the one-eyed prince when not in hearing of the king. Daemon spared a glance for his brother, but Viserys had Alicent’s hand in his, and Daemon could tell that it would take more than this confession to turn the king against the queen. Viserys was willfully blind when it came to his family.

“You deserve each other,” Daemon sneered. Then he swung Dark Sister in a graceful arc, beheading the foolish knight at last.

#daemyra #daemon x rhaenyra #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd an indecent proposal #my writing

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misiwrites · 1 year

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Mayblade Day 13

proceed to pretend it hasn't been 2 weeks without updates

CHAPTER 13 prompt: royalty characters: hiromi, emily, giancarlo, ralf, johnny, olivier, king, queen, brooklyn, yuriy + barthez soldat pairings: olivier/giancarlo

One day while looking for the oddly covert entry to the school kitchens during helper duty, Hiromi discovered a strange door in one of the basement floor corridors. It was fancy, a robust oak door with paneling and a golden handle, an elaborate carving in the middle in the shape of a knight, the chess piece. She tried the handle on a whim only to find the door locked.

“That’s the chess club,” Emily told her afterwards. “But they’re weird. I don’t recommend trying that one out.”

But, as usual, Hiromi’s curiosity had already been awakened. Besides, she had always enjoyed strategy games like chess, go, and mahjong and wasn’t about to pass the opportunity to check out something she actually was interested in, as opposed to all this other gunk she wasn’t, like tennis and circus.

So she headed over once classes were done with. Maybe she’d get lucky and find someone at the club room. Finding the strange door again took a while, but eventually she raised a hand to knock on the fanciful oak paneling.

To her surprise, it soon opened – an inch, anyway. Someone glanced at her through the slim crack of the door; it was an old man, peering down at her from above. Her eyes got stuck in the silvery moustache leering over her as she looked back at him.

“Entry is forbidden from non-members,” the man said and promptly slammed the door on her face.

Hiromi stood frozen in place, staring. Wait, what? What was this old man doing at the school? He’d appeared to have been wearing a suit, though she didn’t get a good look on such short notice.

She knocked again. This time the door remained shut. Not a peep from inside. A minute later, she backed away in resignation.

But someone was approaching the scene down the corridor. Hiromi turned to see – not Max this time, which would have been notably strange in this situation, but another chaotic blue-eyed, fair-haired blond she’d come across recently. It was the Casanova, strolling at a leisurely pace towards the door with his hands in his pockets.

Hiromi had no time to think. She stooped on a level any self-respecting girl never ought to and assumed the demeanor of a damsel in distress. She laced her fingers together and hoped to be making a decently Bambi-eyed impression as she turned to face Giancarlo. Good thing she’d chosen to wear a short skirt today.

As she batted her eyelashes at Giancarlo who’d only just noticed her, he gave her a face of slight alarm, perhaps due to the odd nature of their previous encounter.

“Heeey,” she chirped. “So glad to see you. I’m in a bit of trouble here…”

“Oh!” He lowered his shoulders, dropping the wary act at once. It took him approximately half a second to switch gears to his usual flirty self. “Yeah, I am. What are you looking for, little lamb?”

“I wanted to check out the chess club, but some horrible old man told me to get lost.” She brushed a subtle finger by the corner of her eye, lower lip twitching. “It was s-so rude. All I wanted was to see what the club is like because I like chess. I got scared…”

Giancarlo was exactly as simple a guy as he appeared to be: he was in chivalry mode immediately. “Oh, I’m so sorry – that must have been our butler, he can be such a jerk. Of course you can check out the club if you want to. Come on, let’s go together.”

Hiromi swallowed her urge to retch at Giancarlo placing a hand on her waist and guiding her back towards the dark and dramatic door. And why the fuck would a chess club have a butler?

Giancarlo had a key to the door and opened it with perfect ease. The first thing he did was scold the old man standing by the door in his tuxedo. “Johann, I heard you were rude to this young lady who only wished to come see how our honorable club operates! That was shameful of you. The lady is my guest and welcome here any time.”

Hiromi wasn’t listening to his cheesy mumbo jumbo. She eyed the strange room unlike anything she’d seen elsewhere at the school; it had the appearance of a classic Victorian study. Lots of dramatic dark wood, a fireplace, large paintings on the walls. A dark red carpet covered the entire floor. Several wooden tables were scattered here and there, equipped with expensive-looking chess sets, most sitting vacantly atop the round tables. Only two of the tables were occupied, both of which had two players sitting opposite each other on dark leather seats, and a third person observing on the side. The ones closer to the door, Hiromi recognized: one of the players was Johnny McGregor, the student council member, and the other a guy whom she knew to work in the school library often and, for all she could recall, now saw outside the library for the first time. The third wheel scrutinizing their game from a sofa with a hand raised to his chin was Olivier.

The other pair of players in the back of the room, Hiromi didn’t know. But the third person following their game, sitting with his back towards her, was none other than Brooklyn. This trio paid no attention to her and Giancarlo entering the room.

The other three, however, did. They all turned to stare at them with unmasked contempt.

“What the hell?” asked Johnny, scoffing. “What’s this random lass doing here?”

“I literally just said she’s my guest,” Giancarlo said, scoffing. “You wanker. What’s so bad about having more girls interested in our club?”

“Bollocks. More like more girls interested in you. Who's the wanker here?”

It wasn’t Johnny, though, who looked the iffiest man present. Hiromi was immediately aware of how Olivier was positively glaring daggers at her across the room.

Giancarlo was obviously unbothered by Johnny’s remarks. One filthy hand still on her, he waved the other around to show off the room. “Welcome to our private club! Only the most special people in this school get to ever see it, so consider yourself lucky, Miss… uh…”

“Tachibana,” she uttered.

“Yes.” Making no effort to repeat or learn her name, he then introduced the other members present. Apparently it was Ralf Jürgens, the librarian (who, after an initial foul look her way, remained focused on the game throughout this exchange), who had arranged this old storage room to be renovated for the club’s use. The two people she didn’t yet know, Giancarlo introduced as King and Queen from 2-A. She did wonder how and why they would be called like this, as they obviously weren’t their real names, but didn’t have enough interest to follow up by asking about it. Perhaps it was some kind of strange chess-themed live roleplay they had going on here.

After the introductions, what mild attention was paid to Hiromi evaporated completely. Giancarlo finally withdrew his hand and moved over to sit next to Olivier on the sofa, casually throwing that same hand over his shoulder instead. Olivier made a point to cast Hiromi a smug look while pulling the other guy’s hand tighter around himself, as if she in any shape or form gave a shit about this.

Everyone present seemed like a jerk, perhaps with the exception of Brooklyn. Not that she knew him much either. Why was he here, anyway? Hadn’t he just been at the circus club? And the wushu club as well. Had she seen him at the kendo club too...?

For whatever reason that she couldn’t justify to herself, Hiromi remained watching Ralf and Johnny’s chess match, which turned out to be more of a sitting match. Ralf had been pondering his next move ever since she entered the room and had yet to decide it at this point. Giancarlo and Olivier were nested on the sofa, apparently so engrossed in each other that Giancarlo no longer remembered the existence of his “guest”; whatever this weird dynamic between the two guys was, Hiromi couldn’t wrap her poor brain around it. And Johnny, who sat lazily back in his leather armchair, one leg crossed over the other, appeared perpetually distracted by the pair at the other end of the room and didn’t give a rat’s ass about Ralf taking his sweet time.

Hiromi glanced over at the table occupied by King, Queen, and Brooklyn. The regally named couple was the opposite of Ralf and Johnny: their game was fast-paced and timed with both slapping a clock set next to the checkered board in turns. They were dressed in identical white uniforms and bore some uncanny likeness to each other; if it weren’t for the fact that King was black and Queen white (on the board they played the opposite), they could have been twins. Playing this high-paced game of chess in complete silence and perfect sync, it was another strange duo to add to Hiromi's school findings.

About five minutes later, Ralf finally made his move on the board. He switched the positions of his black queen and rook. And Johnny didn’t even notice it, eyes still glued to the other table across the room.

Ralf, who sat back and folded his arms over his chest, turned to look at Hiromi. He frowned.

“Who are you?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

She decided to take her leave.

Hiromi paced a strip of bright green, impeccably mowed grass of the Bey High sports grounds back and forth. Emily was taking longer than usual with tennis practice, and she was getting hungry. They had plans to go grab some early dinner together and maybe do a little card reading on the side, as it had been a while since their last session together. Besides, Hiromi was dying to complain about the chess club to Emily; she’d been waiting for so long by now, her thoughts were inevitably starting to circle around speculating what the bizarre relationship between Olivier Bohringer and Giancarlo Tornatore was, despite repeatedly telling herself she couldn’t have cared less about these rich boys and their odd relations and chocolate bar rituals.

“Come on, come on, come on,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Come on! Come on!” a voice echoed – one that, to her confusion, was not her own.

Hiromi stopped pacing and turned to look out into the stadium. There was a small group of people practicing sprinting. It must have been the track & field club, she thought first – but could have been other students training for the upcoming sports day, too. Hiromi didn’t have enough motivation to do so herself despite the fact that, with a bit of training, she might have done decently in a couple of sports. Knowing how many students were involved in the insanely competitive clubs, her “decent” wouldn’t carry far in the sports day qualifiers.

There was a band of five people repeatedly sprinting down a 100-meter strip of the track. After observing two iterations of this, she could already tell that two of them were far ahead of the pack speed-wise. Both had wild hair sticking up like a pair of demon horns, one a redhead, the other with a blend of blonde and brunette hair.

Then, while watching the other three make their way to the goal line, she realized that one of them was Brooklyn. Whom she’d not too long ago seen at the chess club. Hiromi knit her brows together, staring at his tracksuit-clad figure now slowing down to catch his breath at the end of the track. When had he ever had the time to get here? Hiromi hadn't seen him leave with her.

While Brooklyn and the redhead remained solitary after the performane, the other three quickly gathered together and moved over to the side of the track. Only then Hiromi noticed a sole spectator they now collectively approached, it was Mathilda holding out bottles of water for them. Perhaps she was there timing their runs, a team manager of sorts.

That was when Emily startled the life out of Hiromi by slamming a hand on her shoulder from behind. “Boo!”

“Oh, my fucking god. Don’t do that ever again or I’ll give you a right hook next time. And what took you so long? It’s almost half past already.”

“We had a, well, thing for the enhancement program. Didn’t I tell you?”

No, Emily had not mentioned anything such. “Do you know who those people flocking to Mathilda over there are?” Hiromi then asked, pointing at the track where said scene was still playing out.

After a brief observation pause, Emily told her they were Mathilda’s classmates. “Ah, the weirdo battalion. That’s Claude, Aaron, and Miguel. Totally insufferable. They worship the ground under her feet – they seem to think she’s their princess, or something equally dumb.”

“What, really? Three guys simultaneously?” Mathilda never seemed like the type wooing guys left and right.

“Yeah, I know. Some people are too popular for their own good. And that one,” Emily suddenly pointed at the redhead on the track, “is the Blitzkrieg Boys boss. Or I think he’s the boss.”

Hiromi turned to look at the boy who, rightfully so, was currently standing with his hands on his hips and evidently glaring at the three chivalrous knights still too busy pampering Mathilda to get on with the practice once more. The guy looked unassuming enough from far away. “He looks kind of normal.”

“But is another nutcase. I heard he got suspended on the first week of his first year for bringing a gun to class. Anyway, let’s get going – I need a burger or several.”

“Is that appropriate for your diet?”

“It is today. I’m starving.”

#mayblade #mayblade 2023 #my writing #fic update

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studiocartridge · 1 year

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Chapter 1: Convocation: Page 11, 12 +13 🩸🌙3 page update!🌙🩸

◆Read the latest◆

◆Start from the beginning◆

Reblogs are very appreciated, help us get more readers!

☾Lunar Blight is a gothic horror story about an elite knight serving a moon cult who must choose between upholding his honoured duty or condemning everything he’s grown to know.☽

#comics #webcomics #hiveworks #Lunar Blight #gothic horror #vampires #manga

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damienthepious · 10 months

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every time i post fanfic now i'm going to fucking bitch about how fucking SHITTY this new editor is, i hate it so fucking much. Anyway.

The Beast In On His Chain (chapter 16)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ch 5] [ch 6] [ch 7] [ch 8] [ch 9] [ch 10] [ch 11] [ch 12] [ch 13] [ch 14] [ch 15] [ao3] [???]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien, Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Sir Damien, Lord Arum, Rilla, Sir Absolon

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, prisoner/guard dynamic, Dehumanization, (which feels like a weird word to use for a nonhuman person bUT. it's what i got.), Despair, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, (EVENTUALLY!!!! it'll take a while), Captivity, Suicidal Thoughts, (that will be a theme throughout. inescapable in this particular fic. alas.), Eventual Romance, (Yes the dynamics in this one are fucked. honestly i'm kinda Stretching my limits these days.), (having fun with it. fucking around. it's fine.), Recovery, (eventually), Self-Reclamation

Chapter Summary: Queen Mira has been made aware of certain worrying circumstances. Damien experiments with treasonous misdirection.

Chapter Notes: chapter specific warnings for references to physical assault, mentions of suicidality. lmk if i missed anything else!

The Queen unexpectedly assigns secondary staff to take positions in the Trophy Room, and instead summons all of those positioned in the surrounding section of the inner Citadel to a meeting, before Damien's next shift, and Damien tries very, very hard not to feel as if every organ in his body has turned to either acid or ice.

(Even before he turned his efforts to... well... literal treason, such a summons would be cause for Damien to panic, with the wild and unfounded terror that he could be in trouble for something he did not even know that he did incorrectly, but now-)

His heart pounds behind his ribs, behind his temples, at the hollow of his throat. He can hardly swallow around it.

Saint Damien, he thinks desperately, keep me still, keep me still, keep me still-

He nearly stumbles when he feels-

The old coolness, like he once felt in the grips of the river. Almost like a voice, almost like an echo. Something whispered back, or-

Tranquility. Tranquility...

Damien feels his breathing slow, feels some measure of tension ease from his shoulders, his clenching stomach.

(Saint Damien used to answer him, used to linger as a presence, an aura around Damien's very soul, but slowly- slowly- so slowly that Damien had not been sure until it was too late, his saint had gone silent. Damien thought- he used to worry, perhaps, that his efforts in knighthood were not enough, that he had made it through his training and despite his successes, had come out lacking into knighthood, and even his own saint had been able to see the deficit within him. Else, his saint simply thought that Damien no longer needed him. That was, of course, the kinder idea. He was rarely able to convince himself of it.)

(When did Saint Damien begin to drift away? During his training? In the early days of his knighthood?)

(The last time he heard Saint Damien's voice in his heart, in his mind-)

(It was before his first kill. It was, wasn't it?)

Damien swallows, breathes slow, and joins the dutiful trickle of knights and guards into the wide meeting room that Queen Mira has selected for this day. For whatever, exactly, this is.

Sir Absolon already stands on the far side of the room, bracing his weight on the back of a chair and sneer-grinning at another, younger knight as the queen looks through papers a few feet away, narrowing her eyes towards the table. The group is... fairly small, split near evenly between sworn knights and more simple guards.

After a few minutes, Queen Mira straightens, and the assembled all silence themselves from their low chatter in response, attention given immediately.

"Something rather troubling has been brought to my attention," Mira says, her tone grave, and Damien's stomach gives a very unhelpful lurch. He breathes, and breathes, and keeps his face still. "A monster in the Trophy Room- the Lord of the Swamp." Another lurch. Tranquility, tranquility in stillness. Focus. "I have been given reports indicating that its condition... its condition has recently begun to change."

A ripple of uncomfortable breaths and subtle murmurs permeates the room, and Damien allows himself to shift with his very real discomfort. Before, he is certain that such news would spin him into a panic for quite different reasons than it does currently.

"Its condition has been decidedly static for more than a year, at this point. After its initial diminishing-" (oh, an unexpected spike of indignant fury, at that) "the monster had been stable and under control for quite a long time. It has, however, to appearances, been recently rallying. Growing stronger. With no apparent trigger, or cause. I thought it best," she says calmly over the low smattering of distressed murmurs, "to gather those who have been in proximity to the creature, to note if any of you may be aware of anything that could be responsible."

Damien feels another unexpected pulse of anger at her phrasing. At her avoidance of actually saying, he no longer looks as if he is starving to death, a still-aware desiccated corpse. He feels reasonably certain that any anger that manages to leak through into his expression is likely to be interpreted as aimed towards the monster, and not the queen, so he does his best not to worry too terribly about obscuring the feeling.

"Would anyone like to begin?" Mira asks, sounding very tired, and Damien notices Sir Absolon tipping his face towards him, all furrowed brow and disapproval.

The room is murmuring-quiet for a few beats while Damien purses his lip, ignores Sir Absolon, and pretends to consider, as if wracking his memory for any such trigger that he most certainly is not responsible for.

"Sir Damien," Absolon interrupts, apparently either unconvinced or simply choosing a direction for his own irritation. "You've been maintaining the chamber during the daylight shift, haven't you? Anything you've seen?" He grins, a baring of teeth that Damien might, in the past, have interpreted as the friendly goading of a comrade. Now, it makes him bristle. "Besides that one incident, of course."

Damien shoots the other knight a look, tipping his chin up with as much dignity as he can muster, even as he feels his cheeks heat with some combination of indignation and very specific fear.

But-

The incident. Right. Well.

That could certainly work.

It's almost too easy, in fact.

Damien drops his gaze, furrowing his brow again and putting his hand to his chin, angling his tone towards thoughtful. "Perhaps," he starts, his voice thankfully steady. "Perhaps... when Sir Absolon beat the monster in retaliation after the mentioned incident, it may have triggered some latent regenerative ability," Damien suggests, as smoothly as he is able. To his satisfaction, that makes the Queen blink, and then turn towards Sir Absolon. "It is not unusual for monsters to exhibit certain unnatural capacity for healing," he adds, as if that point is still the focus of the conversation.

"Beat the monster," Mira echoes, her own tone very blank.

Absolon's own face has gone ruddy and dark, at that, a very clear tension in his neck.

"Well-"

"Indeed," Damien continues, and then he blinks. "Were you unaware of what was done to the creature, my queen? Oh. My apologies, then. I would have reported the damage done to your trophy, had I known you did not order it to be beaten."

Referring to Arum explicitly as Mira's trophy, as an it, does make Damien's stomach turn, but- Mira's lip curls in a way that Damien thinks might indicate discomfort at the phrasing for her own part, and that is satisfying enough to warrant the slight.

It is also... he admits, an odd relief to know that Mira did not order Arum to be hurt. At least, not in this one specific way.

"I assumed that Sir Absolon would not perform such aggressive and extreme actions without orders," Damien adds, blinking, remembering the uncomfortably recent time when he would have spoken that sentence with full, naive honesty.

"You injured the monster," Mira says slowly, stern and measured, "that we very specifically have cause to keep safely alive. Without orders."

"No," Absolon says, and then he shakes his head, visibly aware of the attention now aimed his way. "Or- yes, but- it wasn't like that, my queen." He aims an irritable look towards Damien, and through sheer force of will, Damien keeps his own expression puzzled and implacable. "The thing needed to be wrangled, that's all. If it got hurt, that was only incidental in the effort to-"

"That is rather odd," Damien hears himself interrupt, ice in his own tone to overlay his incandescent rage. "Considering that the monster was placid on its stone when I was ordered from the room. There was no one at all within arms reach, last I saw, and no reason I could think of to approach it after the fact, barring an explicit intention to cause damage." He pauses, then adds, "To retaliate."

Absolon's eyes spark with fury, but Damien does not drop his gaze until the queen speaks again.

"That is a highly concerning assertion, Sir Damien."

"It's- it wasn't like that," Absolon lies again, scowling.

"It let me go, when it became clear that it would not be released or killed," Damien explains, knowing that the truth is dangerous but also knowing that there were other witnesses to the event. In fact- "It was, frankly, barely strong enough to stand, after it let me go. It collapsed. Is that not right, Sir Marinell?" he says, turning to one of the other guards who had been present. Marinell, for his part, winces very hard, obvious guilt on his face.

"Ah- er, that is-"

"You don't know what happened after you left the room, Sir Damien," Sir Absolon says darkly, prickling anger in his tone. "You don't-"

"Clearly," Queen Mira says, "none of us do, save those of you who were there. So, perhaps you should explain."

Absolon half-cringes, but he manages to pull himself together with annoying swiftness. Not swift enough, however, because Marinell breaks before he can weave together his own explanation.

"Sir Absolon was in charge," Sir Marinell says breathlessly, still wincing. "We were just doing as told. We were careful! Absolon had us leave our weapons out of range, we knew the thing isn't supposed to die. But Absolon said-"

"Marinell," Absolon warns.

"That he promised that the thing would wish it was dead, and-"

"Oh," Damien says, something cold curling against his heart. "Oh, yes. I remember, now. You promised that while the beast still held me, I believe." He locks eyes with Absolon, matching the fury there with his own. "I suppose you made good on your promise, then. Though- I think we rather have proof, do we not, that the creature already wishes that he were dead."

"Oh, you smug little s-"

"Sir Absolon," Queen Mira says, sharp, and the room goes breathless-silent again. "I am unspeakably disappointed by your conduct in this matter. There is still so much that we do not know about this creature and its capabilities, and if a single moment of impulsive, unnecessary violence by your own unilateral decision has caused this monster to begin to grow stronger again, that could have consequences that effect our entire kingdom."

Sir Absolon opens his mouth, possibly to argue, lie, plead his case, but something on the queen's face must be enough to quail him because he snaps his jaw back shut and cringes with his entire face, his fists balled tightly at his sides.

"I will speak with you privately, now," she says, tone utterly cool. "I apologize, for removing the rest of you from your duties for such a- needless cause. Your relief from your positions is intended to last the entire day; so you may be dismissed, now. Sir Damien," she adds, as the majority of the room immediately takes their cue to retreat from this now deeply uncomfortable space.

Damien lifts his chin towards Queen Mira, face as still as he can force it, a chant of tranquility taking up the majority of the space in the back of his mind. "Yes, my queen?"

She inhales, then exhales a sigh. "I thank you, for your candor. You are dismissed for the day as well."

Relief like a flood, rinsing through him from the base of his skull to the bottoms of his heels.

"Thank you, my queen," he says, tipping his head into a bow, and then he takes his turn to retreat as well.

#elle's fanfic #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #sir damien #queen mira #i HATE THIS NEW EDITOR SO MUCH #STAFF ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME. FUCK OFF.#GIVE THE OLD EDITOR BACK GOD DAMN IT

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