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thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 3 months

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The Blackwood Knight prt.4

Disclaimer: Back to my usual shenanigans with another installment of Benjicot angst. The stakes are getting higher. Plus the start of the crossovers Victoria and I have planned with the Jump then Fall series.

Description: In which the Blackwood Knight bends the knee before his Queen.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Playlist:

One Thing~ One Direction

Risk~ Gracie Abrams

Only Girl (in the world)~ Rihanna

I think he knows~ Taylor Swift

A silver moon shone through the casement of the turret window of Raventree Castle Benjicot leaned against, staring out across the expanse of Blackwood vale towards the borders of Bracken lands. His arm raised above his head, leaning against the wall, soft candle light cast shadows over his disconsolate expression. Never had he wished to cross such an expanse before, so long had he been the arbiter of the very border which he now wished to dissolve. Raised as he was to inherit the Blackwood estate and lands, he was equally set to inherit the duty to further propagate the ancient enmity between the Blackwoods and the Brackens. A duty he had never railed against until now.

His thoughts turned to the lady whose beauty of mind and form had made him question all that had once seemed to him so certain. The very lady who he who he was determined to make his lady wife. He could not very well ask her to leave her whole life, her family, her House, to be at his side. He would not ask her to. Instead, he resolved, he would dissolve the very borders between them.

An amused voice broke his reverie.

“Oh look, it’s our resident troubadour, musing over his lady love.” Benjicot’s friend, Robb laughed at him, elbowing him in the ribs.

Turning to him with a bemused expression, Benjicot responded “And what if I am?”

Rob laughed again, turning to lean jauntily against the castle walls.

“I thought you were a man of action. Why don’t you just march down there, bend the knee and offer yourself in marriage to her. You bore me enough with your plans to do just that thing? Do you think she will refuse? I would if I were her.”

Benjicot pushed his friend in the shoulder, but his expression betrayed a hint of insecurity behind the action.

“That is definitely a concern. She is very shy and I cannot be sure that my love will be returned. There is also the small matter of our warring Houses. I would not merely be asking her to accept me, but also my House…and to forsake her own. I will not ask her to make such a sacrifice. I must instead find a way for both our Houses to resolve their differences. If my world will not accommodate her, I must tear it down and begin anew.”

Robb met Benjicot’s gaze with his own incredulous one.

“Trying to get the Blackwoods and the Brackens to resolve anything without the use of extreme force is beyond belief. Just the other day I encountered that Bracken fellow you like to refer to as a peacock, attempting to move the boundary stones further into our lands and I had to restrain myself from making him eat the damn rocks.”

Benjicot’s eyes darkened slightly, “that fellow is incorrigible but he is also, I’m afraid, the cousin of my lady, so I can’t very well dispatch him…though I have thought of doing so…many times.” He looked off into the distance with an almost wistful expression.

“I would not direct my proffers of peace terms to such an idiot. The future Lord of Bracken Hall, Aeron Bracken could be more reasonable. He does not wish for further bloodshed and may be amenable to a settlement. A dispute at the border with his own lady has convinced me of this.”

A mist had swept over the Riverlands overnight, coating the grass expanse with dew drops, as Y/N walked towards the Brackentree, struggling to contain her excitement at seeing her knight. Her thoughts continued to turn on the events of the previous day, when he had spun her close to him and had gazed at her with a look that held something behind it that almost convinced her that he harboured the same feelings that she did for him towards herself. Almost, for she had convinced herself in the intervening hours after he had walked her back to the outermost borders of the Brackenwoods that he thought of her as just a silly girl with fantasies of chivalry that he entertained only to be kind. This didn’t seem right either, considering his behaviour towards her. His actions had sometimes made her hope that the opposite might be the case, that he might grow to love her, as she did him.

Each day that they met to walk along the border of Blackwood and Bracken lands, he would bring her a book or a piece of art he believed might interest her, especially as it related to great female Targaryens like Visenya. He would hold her arm over his so gently, as he guided her across rockier terrain, sometimes lifting her across it by the waist, after first asking. If it was colder, he would unclasp his crimson cloak from his own shoulders to wrap it around her own, smiling at her as he did so, before making a comment about how well the colour looked on her. So often did he make comments of a similar ilk that she sometimes pretended that it was because he wanted her to bear the colours of his House, as his lady. But she quickly dismissed such thoughts, embarrassed at even entertaining them.

At Bracken Hall she was a shadow, unnoticed, unimportant, and frequently mocked by her cousin for her interests. Benjicot, in the way that he would meet her gaze directly as she spoke, nodding and smiling attentively as she did so, made her feel as if what she had to say was of value and his frequent offers to ‘dispatch your cousin’, whilst only jests that made her laugh, made her feel that he truly cared. All this aside, Benjicot was a true knight and she knew from his behaviour towards a lady from a house loyal to the Brackens who had encountered some hostile Blackwoods that he acted with chivalry towards all ladies. Perhaps his actions were just that, perfunctory, even if they were kind.

With these confused thoughts turning in her mind, she hardly noticed that she had already arrived at their meeting point, before she bumped into a hard obstacle. Crying out in surprise, and struggling to keep her footing, she felt an arm wrap around her waist, and another around her shoulders, as she looked up into the warm brown eyes of Benjicot, who smiled down at her in a mixture of amusement and something softer she couldn’t quite identify.

“Nice of you to drop in, my lady, although I had thought I’d have to do something truly heroic to get you to fall into my arms.” Lifting her back to her feet, he moved his arms to hold onto her elbows to steady her, holding on for a few moments longer than was strictly necessary.

“My apologies,” she said quickly, “I was distracted.”

Noticing the pink on her cheeks and her slightly panicked expression, Benjicot feared he had overstepped the line and embarrassed her, quickly stepping back to give her more space. When her expression didn’t change, he added in a jesting tone what he meant earnestly.

“No need to apologise, my lady. Feel free to fall into my arms anytime you so wish, that’s what they’re there for. And of course, for spearing your cousin on the end of my sword.” He added, with a wink.

Smiling at him indulgently and pushing his chest playfully, Y/N laughed as Benjicot rocked back on his boots, as if her light touch had actually succeeded in moving him.

Pushing him again for this jest, Benji placed his hand above hers on his chest, arresting it in its place. Smiling down at her, he held her hand in place like that for a few seconds before moving it so that he could graze it with his lips. Gently dropping her hand back to her side, he nonetheless retained hold of it, as he turned to direct them to their usual walking route through the borders of the Brackenwoods.

After a few moments of walking in contented silence, Benjicot began, “This knight has a proposition to put before his queen, if she be so pleased to entertain it?”

Turning with a laugh to swat at him, Y’N responded, “you jest!”

Catching her hand in his once again, Benjicot stopped them in their passage, looking into her eyes earnestly, “Do I?”

“You know you do” she scoffed, moving to continued walking, before Benji once again stopped her by taking a gentle hold of her elbow.

“I am sorry to hear you say so. I have begun badly already. I’m afraid you will have trouble listening to the whole of what I will say.”

Seeing that he looked genuinely troubled, she stopped to gaze back up at him.

“I’m sorry, continue.”

“Well,” he hesitated, taking a step towards her, to close the distance between them, “I would like to ask you a question, if you would permit it.”

Seeing her nod in acquiescence, he took a deep breath, more on edge than she had seen him since he had rescued her from his bannermen, before taking her hands in his and bending low, head lowered before her.

“What are you playing at again Benji” she said, half in amusement and half in confusion.

Smirking at her shortened version of his name, hers alone to use, he drew strength from the feeling of her smaller hands in hands.

“I once offered you my service as a knight in your protection. I meant it when I bent the knee before you that day and I mean it now as I offer myself to you as your husband and protector. I would dedicate myself to your happiness and ensure that your days and nights were safe. I would have you be my lady wife and the future Lady of Raventree, if you would have me.”

Fearing to look up at her and gage her reaction, Benjicott kept his head lowered, awaiting her response as the agonising silence continued.

To his surprise, she harshly withdrew her hands and began to walk away from him without a word. Momentarily stunned, Benjicot looked after her retreating figure before rallying himself, hurrying to catch up with her.

“My Lady” he called, to no answer. Repeating his call, she turned with a stricken look that made his heart drop into his stomach, seeing that tears were forming behind her eyes. Berating himself in his mind for upsetting her, he frantically replayed his words in his mind, trying to find the source of his blunder to correct it. Unless, of course, it was him, himself that offended her so. A painful thought, but one he would try to accept if it was the case.

“What is the cause of your distress, are you hurt? Have I said something to offend you?” He hurriedly stumbled out.

“You have hurt me.” Y/N responded with a hitch in her voice.

Feeling a sharp pain in his heart at this, Benjicott stumbled back a pace and lowered his head.

“I am sorry for having done so, please forgive me. How can I make amends” and more desperately he added, “what can I do?”

Y/N lowered her head, avoiding his gaze before responding in a quiet voice he had to lean towards to hear, “don’t make fun of me.”

Raising her voice slightly, she continued, each word a lance to his heart.

“I have endured enough mockery from cousin and his friends about my interest in knights and queens. I had thought that you, at least, would not do the same thing. I had thought that…that we were friends, that you respected me enough not to do that.”

As she had been speaking, Benjicot’s expression had become increasingly distressed and then finally determined, as he realised his blunder and the source of her pain. She did not believe him.

As she hurriedly turned to leave, Benjicot grabbed her hand.

Turning in frustration, attempting to wrench her hand from his firm hold, Y’N demanded he let her go.

Benjicot stepped towards her, wrapping his arm around her waist, closing the distance between them

“I will, once you listen to me…please.” He added, as she stopped struggling.

He raised his free hand to gently graze her cheekbone with the back of his knuckle, before tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I earnestly apologise for having acted in a manner which caused you to disbelieve the truth of what I have said, but please believe me when I say that I have never, and would never, mock you. Especially for something I myself most ardently believe to be true: that I am your loyal knight and protector, whether you will have me or not, and would be your husband, if you would allow it.”

Recognising in Y/N’s direct gaze a desire to search for the truth of his claims in his eyes, he lowered his head towards her, so that she could look into his eyes more easily.

A few more agonising minutes passed for Benjicot, before his lady’s gaze seemed to soften and she said in a soft, questioning voice.

“You are in earnest?”

“I have never been more so about anything in my life.”

“And you want me?”

Chuckling at this, he stroked her cheek again, “No, I mistook you for your peacock of a cousin, obviously.”

Laughing at this, she raised her own hand to wrap it around the back of his neck, causing butterflies to rise in his torso.

“Then I will be your lady.”

Breaking out into a smile, which conveyed love and admiration, Benji lowered his face towards her slowly, stopping intermittently to check for any sign of distress in the expression of his lady.

Hovering his lips above hers in hesitation, gazing into her eyes with a look that asked for her permission, he moved his hand to hold her head as he gently grazed his lips over hers, deepening the kiss when her arm wrapping around his neck made him sure that his lady was in fact his to love and adore, as well as serve and protect.

Breaking the kiss, he continued to hold her head in his hand, gazing down at her with a reverential look that could only be for a knight towards his queen.

Her expression suddenly becoming distressed as she pushed him away, Benjicot briefly panicked that he had, after all, been too forward, until she told him her fears.

“But how will I become your lady if I belong to House Bracken.”

Smiling in relief that he had not been the cause of her distress, he once again took her hand in his, raising it to his lips before he assured her:

“Don’t distress yourself on that account. I will find a way for you to be both Lady Blackwood and Queen of the Bracken lands. I’ll burn the borders down myself if I have to, although I am very fond of my boundary stones. Perhaps I will have to take my good friend Robb up on his idea for them.” He returned, a glint in his eye.

“And what is that?” she asked with a slight tone of disapproval, anticipating an answer very much along the lines of the one Benjicot would give.

“Oh nothing to be concerned about, my sweet, just feeding the stones to a particularly troublesome peacock.”

We love desperate and pathetic men on this blog.

@lovebabe18 @poppyflower-22 @ithilwen-blackwood @spinachtz @lady-callisto @twistytimesandthoughts @abookloverlawyerfan-blog @mymoonempress

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #benjicot blackwood #aeron bracken #davos blackwood #aeron bracken x reader #benjicot blackwood x reader #hotd

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hotvintagepoll · 9 months

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Propaganda

Michael Redgrave (The Lady Vanishes)—my beautiful bisexual hot linguist geek dandy nerd. I'm specifically nominating him for "The Lady Vanishes," but how can you not love him in this—it's a strikingly modern performance, not a whiff of old school macho masculinity; he starts the movie as a bit of a cad, thoughtless and self-absorbed, but the second our heroine's in trouble he's attentive, he's helpful, he's running around speaking languages and helping her with international spycraft shenanigans and just being so funny and warm and JOYOUS. (and again. he is SO bisexual. see the picture [attached below]). he's hot in the debate club twink kinda way and i've never wanted to smooch an idiot more

Gene Autry (The Singing Cowboy, The Sagebrush Troubadour)—no propaganda submitted

This is round 1 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[propaganda photos submitted under the cut.]

"BISEXUAL."

#michael redgrave #gene autry #the singing cowboy #rudolph the red nosed reindeer #alfred hitchcock #fuck that old man #hotvintagepoll #round 1 #today in polls causing me stunning amounts of agony

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jessepinkmancrystals · 7 months

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Shshsjs I wrote gnr clasic line up orgin :3

The story of Guns n’ Roses starts with guitarist Izzy Stradlin. He was living with Tracii Guns, guitarist of L.A Guns. At the time, L.A guns was in need of a new vocalist, Izzy had suggested Hollywood rose singer, Axl Rose. This is the start of forming of what is to be Guns n’ Roses in March of 1985 by Axl. The line up at this point was of (Left to right) Rob Gardner (drummer) , Izzy (guitarist), Rose (vocals), Tracii Guns (lead guitarist), and Ole Beich (bassist).

Left to right! Ole Beich ,Izzy , Tracii, and Rob!! Axls obv the 1 at the bottom xd

Tracii stated in an interview with Eddie Trunk in 2019 that Rose had gotten into an argument with their manager at the time and said the manager had fired him. It was awkward for them because they all of them lived together, that night that they fired Axl they started Guns N’ Roses. The next day Tracii called Izzy asking him if he wanted to be in it. They got the name Guns N’ Roses from combining the names L.A guns and Hollywood Rose. Some of their rejected band names that the record didnt allow were “Heads of the Amazon” and “AIDS”. After the first two band rehearsals they fired Ole Beich and replaced him with Duff Mckagan. The band’s first rehearsal her duff they recorded three songs which would be featured on future records. These songs were : Anything Goes, Think about you. These would be features on their debut album ‘Appetite for Destruction’. The third song was ‘Don’t Cry’ which would be featured on their 3rd album “Use Your Illusion I’. These songs were played on their first ever radio interview. This interview was 2 days before their first ever show on March 26th (my birthday!) 1985, this show was at the ‘Troubadour’ Club. At the time, the band was planning on releasing an EP (Extended Play) with the three tracks recorded with Mckagan and a cover of ‘HeartBreak Hotel’ by Elvis Presley. But things backfired as Tracii had a fall out with Axl. This falling out was caused by an argument between Guns n’ Roses. Due to this argument, the plans of releasing the EP disappeared. Tracii Guns was then replaced with Hollywood Rose member Slash also known as Saul Hudson. Rob Gardner, the last standing L.A guns member in Guns N’ Roses, soon quit the band. Gardner was replaced with Steven Adler who was also part of Hollywood Rose. This concluded the formation of the “Appetite for Destruction” lineup, also known as the “classic lineup”. This line up was finally set in stone on June 4th when Slash and Steven officially joined the band.

:33 Hope u read allat!! I can write smch abt gnr bro ask me a question & give me 10 minutes 2 research if i don't alrd know & liek 5 to write w/no proper grammar & punctuation tho! :3

if theres anything that doesn't make sense/isnt spelt right js tell me English isn't my 1st language!!

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foxes-that-run · 7 months

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Part 3: 70 Heart kisses 2016 on

This post is in three parts:

When Harry got the Heart tattoo

70 Heart Kisses (1D years), and

70 Heart Kisses continued. (Solo career)

The amazing @womanexile and @this-daydream-is-dangerous-13started this off with finding a good chunk of these. This is by no means a complete list, I think that would be impossible. It’s also important to note that only Harry knows what this tattoo is about, why he kisses it or if that is for one person and who that is.

2017

After no performances in 2016 the heart kiss returned with HS1 but less frequently. In early 2016 Harry and Taylor had been close but by 2017 Taylor was dating Joe and Harry was very emotional on stage. See 2017 timeline. Harry also started performing with a guitar which gave his arms something to do and I think less kisses as a result.

Late March 2017 - London- During his Behind the Album performance for HS1, he not only kissed the heart, he also kisses the guitar it’s thought she had given him as a gift! This was a major moment for Harry and one he was emotional in. He is good at first but there’s a head in hands moment at 28:10. Then, emotional. Time stamps 32:09 during Sweet Creature 37:48 guitar kiss during ESNY 52:45 kisses OTHER arm during SOTT (when he was explaining the rest of the concert to that nervous fan in July, he described this song as “emotional but hopeful” so maybe that’s a hopeful thing, that arm has ‘Things I can’/the Eagle)

13 May 2017 - London- secret gig at the Garage in Islington - pink pants black shirt 7:52 during Sweet Creature

19 May 2017 - Troubadour, LA, on the eve of their 5 year anniversary of May 20th, while performing Leather and Lace with Stevie Nicks (1:18), Harry started crying and kissed the heart. Harry was really excited throughout the show, they performed two ghosts as a duet after which he said he was losing his s*** (but in a cool way, with a point to presumably James).

28 September 2017 - Radio City NY - Story of my life may have an aborted arm kiss (2:30) FTDT also (3:35). On Harry and Taylor’s 28 September anniversary. Taylor marked the day with a 70 song ‘Taylor loves’ Spotify playlist.

14 October 2017 - Phoenix - During Meet me in the Hallway (1:39). After “I walked the streets all day” before “running with the thieves”. This was Harry's last US show and he returned to Europe. His next show was in Paris where he cried twice in FTDT on 'even my phone misses your call' twice. (1:55 and again 3:30)

2 November 2017 - Glasgow- Sweet Creature on “you bring me home” (maybe, this tour had tricky lighting) (2:19) Kiwi and Reputation were released soon after.

2018

12 June 2018 - Nashville - Sweet Creature (2:45) Harry moves to kiss his arm but doesn’t after “you bring me home” he was in Taylor’s home city.

30 June 2018 - Chicago - Sweet Creature, a possible other arm kiss (5:11). Taylor and Harry were both in Chicago, Taylor played New Years Day with an introduction about jumping into icy pools that Taylor Nation has cut from their version.

2 July 2018 - St Paul - Only Angel - the other arm at 3:30 and the heart at 4:33. On the same night Harry changed the lyric of “running with wolves” to “running with you” (2:00) Taylor had played this stadium the night she had the temper trap song as arm lyrics which Harry tattooed on its anniversary. Taylor had been in nearby Chicago when Harry was there the day before and not seen this day.

In July 2020 Taylor released Cardigan with a reference to a ‘Tattoo Kiss’:

2021

The later we go the less we really know about what is going on. The heart kisses may also have different meanings.

The 2021 timeline is interesting, starting with talking at the Grammy’s then the Brits, Harry finished writing Harry’s House and Taylor started Midnights in this period.

22 September 2021 - St Paul - Falling, with Two Ghosts intro (4:31). Wildest Dreams TV was released a few days earlier, Harry and Taylor had spent time in St Paul in the past.

25 September 2021 - Chicago - Falling, at the end twice with a smile and again during Adore you. When Harry last played Chicago Taylor was also there.

21 October 2021 - Uncasville, during thank you speech. Harry and Taylor had been in Nashville at the same time earlier that month when Harry had written Satellite.

25 October 2021 - Boston - Falling. An old selfie of Joe and Taylor from 2016 leaked a few days earlier.

27 October 2021 - Atlanta - the start of Falling (0:09) right arm kiss. On the anniversary of 1989’s release. On the same day Taylor posted an instagram reel captioned ‘Basic autumn lovers RISE’ reenacting a 2014 Tumblr post including trying lyrics to ATW ‘Just between us did he love affair maim you too?’

10 November 2021 - Sacramento - Falling - on ‘it kills me we have run out of things to say’ link. Harry wore Red to celebrate the Re-record of Red TV, which is the first of Taylor's albums with songs about Harry.

13 November 2021 - Arizona, Falling with Two Ghosts intro (2:17), Red TV was released the day before.

19 November 2021 - LA, The Forum, in the welcome speech after thanking his support act. Taylor was in Panama to visit Joe, after Taylor returned for the All Too Well premier she wrote the majority of Midnights including You’re Losing Me.

28 November 2021 - Long Island - Falling (4:08) Right arm kiss. After this show Harry was MIA and Olivia seen alone. The next week, Taylor wrote You’re Losing me and wore a Gucci Lion Ring to a party.

2022

As above, we know less about Harry’s relationships now, however the 2022 timeline is also interesting. Taylor completed Midnights and based on it’s lyrics, her relationship with Joe was not great. Harry released Harry’s House and at the end of the year broke up with Olivia.

20 May 2022 - NYC - ONO - start of Satellite (1:13) another link. On Harry’s House Release, an important life event, in New York, on the anniversary of 20 May at the start of performing Satellite for the first time.

26 June 2022 - Hamburg during his welcome speech when introducing the support act. Harry was on his European tour dates, in the last months of dating OW. These were the first months of Harry touring the Harry’s House songs.

29 June 2022 - Stockholm - introducing Matilda (1:12 and again at 1:36) Harry said it was great to be back in Sweden (he once tweeted that same phrasing at a time Taylor was MIA in Europe and he posted a colour IG photo) and that he is happiest performing.

1 July 2022 - Oslo when inducing Matilda, Harry told the story about the party bus, that Oslo has a special place in his heart then that Matilda has nothing to do with that story but is special. (1:50) and again when introducing WMYB (0:06)

11 July 2022 - Munich during Adore You and LOML. (Better view of loml)

16 July 2022 Vienna - during Adore you, after the crowd saying let me adore you and him saying “okay”

5 July 2022 - Paris - after saying “I love Paris” while introducing As It Was. Harry and Taylor have referenced Paris many times as special to them.

31 July 2022 - Lisbon - start of Kiwi (12:49)

1 August 2022 - Toronto - cinema - kissed the eagle covering ‘things I can’ after “it’s you, and I’m not getting over it” previous kisses have been after break ups indicating wanting to change something

10 September 2022- Madison Square Garden Night 12, LOML. Harry and Taylor were both in NY, Harry started a 5 week stint of wearing the Peace Ring. Neither Harry & Olivia or Taylor & Joe seemed friendly, with both break ups announced in coming months.

27 October 2022 - LA - introducing WMYB (day music for a sushi restaurant dropped and 1989 anniversary). Taylor was on the Graham Norton show talking about the re-records and announcing the Eras tour.

29 October 2022 - LA N5 in Sign of the Times

31 October 2022 - Harryween LA Timestamp 1:50 during LOML before it's unfortunate..

2023

The later we go the less we really know about what is going on. The heart kisses may also have different meanings.

The 2023 timeline is interesting, Harry had separated from Olivia, Taylors separation from Joe was announced. They were both on tour and both replaced setlist songs with older Haylor songs.

29 January 2023 - Los Angeles, Forum Night 15 - Love of My Life - Anatomical Heart Kiss (0:42) Harry also played Medicine! Between filming Satellite and the Grammy’s

31 January 2023 - Palm Springs - during Matilda , after the lyric ‘make your tea and your toast’. (2:13) The week before Harry put Little Freak in the HSLOT set

21 February 2023 Perth LOML, During woman re-added to the setlist.

28 Feburary 2023 - Gold Coast, QLD - during Satellite after “do you want to talk?” (4:48)

13 June 2023 - Wembley - kissed other arm (0:06) during Grapejuice and kissed the Heart Tattoo during As It Was after “...and I’m the one who will stay” (0:41) The day before Taylor played All You Had to Do was Stay as a Surprise Song on the 10th June. Harry played Best Song Ever intro to WMYB.

17 June 2023 - Wembley - at the end of Sweet Creature Harry went to kiss the tattoo and stopped himself then looked at the crowd with a cheeky embarrassed look. (3:16). Gemma had a baby 8 months later. Taylor had a particularly emotional show that night. She gave an extra wild Champagne Problems speech and extra long and weird Betty Speech and had Aaron Dessner out to play Seven and hugs Taylor at the end. Later a photo of TR sitting with Jeff in one of the Wembley crowds surfaced months later. Interestingly, this is the anniversary of Taylors 2011 Lover Journal entry days after Harry was MIA in the US when Taylor had the Temper Trap arm lyrics in St Paul.

18 June 2023 - Wembley link Wembley n1 during as it was another link. I think the show above sums this up. Cruel Summer was officially released as a single 2 days later.

#haylor #harry styles #tattoo kiss #Youtube

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aventurine-official · 1 month

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Song challenge!

Share at least 5 songs that you associate with or remind you of your muse!

(Ooc: Tagged by both @veritas-ratio-rp and @spaceoddityhsr :3 Thank you!)

#1 : Unsweetened Lemonade - Amélie Farren

I fucked the reaper cause I knew My time was coming can't you see I was either gonna die At 12 or 90-fucking-3

I'd do anything for twenty bucks I'd sell my sour soul Cause lemonade is bitter till you Sweeten up the bowl

And I'm sitting in the bathroom I'm crying citrus tears Everything I used to love Decayed over the years

It's hard to finish sentences I'll sell my pride instead Cause it's easier to focus I'm just the price above my head

#2 : Poker Face - Lady Gaga

I wanna hold 'em like they do in Texas, please Fold 'em, let 'em hit me, raise it, baby, stay with me (I love it) Love game intuition, play the cards with spades to start And after he's been hooked, I'll play the one that's on his heart

Can't read my, can't read my No, he can't read my poker face (She's got me like nobody) Can't read my, can't read my No, he can't read my poker face (She's got me like nobody)

I wanna roll with him, a hard pair we will be (hey) A little gamblin' is fun when you're with me (I love it) Russian roulette is not the same without a gun And baby, when it's love, if it's not rough, it isn't fun (fun)

#3 : Slut! - Taylor Swift

Got lovestruck, went straight to my head Got lovesick, all over my bed Love to think you'll never forget Handprints in wet cement

Adorned with smoke on my clothes Lovelorn and nobody knows Love thorns all over this rose I'll pay the price, you won't

But if I'm all dressed up They might as well be looking at us And if they call me a slut You know it might be worth it for once And if I'm gonna be drunk Might as well be drunk in love

Send the code, he's waiting there The sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air Everyone wants him That was my crime The wrong place at the right time And I break down, then he's pullin' me in In a world of boys, he's a gentleman

#4 : Victorious - Panic! At the Disco

Double bubble disco queen Headed to the guillotine Skin as cool as Steve McQueen Let me be your killer king

It hurts until it stops We will love until it's not I'm a killing spree in white Eyes like broken Christmas lights

My touch is black and poisonous And nothing like my punch drunk kiss I know you need it Do you feel it Drink the water Drink the wine

#5 : Mirrorball - Taylor Swift

I want you to know I'm a mirrorball I can change everything about me to fit in You are not like the regulars The masquerade revelers Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten

Hush! When no one is around, my dear You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you

Hush! I know they said the end is near But I'm still on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you

I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try

I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything To keep you looking at me

#6 : End of Beginning - Djo

Just one more tear to cry One teardrop from my eye You better save it for The middle of the night When things aren't black and white Enter, Troubadour "Remember twenty-four?"

And when I'm back in Chicago, I feel it Another version of me, I was in it I wave goodbye to the end of beginning

This song has started now And you're just finding out Now isn't that a laugh? A major sacrifice But clueless at the time Enter, Caroline "Just trust me, you'll be fine"

#7 : Blame Brett - The Beaches

That's why I won't get vulnerable Don't you dare get comfortable Heartbreak is impossible Feelings doing somersaults

I'm not ready for therapy To take accountability Right now, it's about me Me and only 'bout me, hey

You could be my baby, baby, baby You could be my baby boy, dear lady You could be my baby, baby, maybe Oh, oh

I'm sorry in advance I'm only gonna treat you bad I'm probably gonna let you down I'm probably gonna sleep around

So sorry in advance Before you take off your pants I wouldn't let me near your friends I wouldn't let me near your dad

#8 : Mastermind - Taylor Swift

What if I told you none of it was accidental And the first night that you saw me, I knew I wanted your body? I laid the groundwork and then, just like clockwork The dominoes cascaded in a line

What if I told you I'm a mastermind? And now you're mine It was all my design 'Cause I'm a mastermind

No one wanted to play with me as a little kid So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since To make them love me and make it seem effortless This is the first time I've felt the need to confess And I swear I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian 'cause I care

So I told you none of it was accidental And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me I laid the groundwork and then saw a wide smirk On your face, you knew the entire time

(Ooc: Thank you!!! This was so fun :3

I'll lightly tag @sunday-halovian, @emanator-of-nihility, @intergalactic-singer, @teardrop-san, @sword-master-jingliu, @servallandauofficial, @stellaron-hunter-blade, and @scar-of-fractsidus only if you'd like or haven't already done it! ~ Mod Minie)

#roll the dice 🎲#(ooc: tag games)#honkai star rail

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theforgottenmcrmy · 2 years

Text

Strength ~ Part 2/2 (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

᯽ Please note that this is an overall part 11 of the series “Growing Strong”. The masterlist, and part 1, can be found HERE. ᯽

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: Character death, fire, mentions of burns (descriptive), death of unnamed background characters, mentions of someone unaliving themselves, GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, references to past character death, very suggestive themes, and a back-stabbing brother... heck, let’s throw kinslaying on there too while we’re at it.

Summary: Was there strength in honor? … Or could honor come from strength?

A/N: this chapter starts with a bit of spicy🔥 (nothing too wild or anything, but still pretty obvious what’s going on), and then ends up with actual 🔥🔥🔥, so... reader beware.

i don’t think I want to say anything else right now except thank you guys for the all of the support. i’ll put more of a blurb at the end of this.🖤🖤🖤

Deft hands untied the laces of your dress later in the evening.

You sighed from the immediate relief and leaned backwards calmly. As your head came to rest on Harwin’s broad chest, you closed your eyes and smiled in contentment.

Harwin chuckled amusedly at your antics. “Perhaps we should have retired sooner, My Love.”

The merriment of the family dinner continued well into the night. After supper had concluded, Lord Lyonel called for some musicians, which resulted in several singers and lute players providing a few additional hours of entertainment. Only when Derrik and Selwin started to nod off at the table and your own eyes began to feel heavy did you dare to suggest that it was time to retreat to your respective chambers. The Lord Hand tipped the troubadours generously, and everyone retired. The high spirits and mirth elated by the wine shared over dinner was still fresh on everyone’s minds as they departed from the dining hall.

By now, your sons were most likely fast asleep in their own beds.

You had dismissed your handmaiden for the evening, opting for a quiet night alone with your husband instead. Like your sons, the clutches of sleep were calling to you, but now, as Harwin’s hands skimmed across your back in feather light touches, your mind kept drifting to that of another, more tempting, venture.

“That was quite an eventful dinner this evening,” Harwin commented nonchalantly, seemingly unaware of the effects he had upon you.

You opened your eyes and stood straight once more. The pair of you stood in front of a mirror in your shared chambers. You watched him dutifully as his eyes narrowed at your as he concentrated on his efforts.

“That was quite the toast you made as well, Dearest.”

The subject of Princess Rhaenyra, and the Princes, was one seldom addressed between you over the past month. It was almost as though you were mutually afraid of shattering the newfound reverie that life at Harrenhal had come to provide. But Harwin’s offhanded suggestion to the topic during the niceties of the evening meal left you wondering what his intent had been.

“My father was in a good mood this evening,” Harwin prefaced, his focus still on the work that his hands were carrying out. “But… He is still disappointed in me.”

As you watched your husband’s crestfallen look in the mirror, your heart ached on his behalf.

“I am not a fool. I did not think he would simply forget…” Harwin admitted defeatedly. “But I had hoped, if I worked hard enough, and if I proved how dedicated I am to learning about all of the responsibilities and duties of the family seat and title, I might have given my father something else to focus on instead.”

You felt sympathy for Harwin. How could you not? Just as you had carried shame that was not yours to bear, Harwin had been forced to shoulder disappointment from Lord Lyonel. Disappointment that Harwin had not, at least not truly, warranted.

But there was little that could be done about it, for reasons that both of you had delved deeply many, many times before.

You turned away from the mirror slowly. Abandoning his work, Harwin’s hands fell to his sides, and he watched you somewhat apprehensively, as though fearing he had done or said something to offend.

“You are correct,” you agreed, earning a somewhat surprised reaction from your husband. “Your father will not forget the ‘truth’ that he believes in. But he will return to King’s Landing soon, and we will remain here. He will take that shadow of disapproval with him, and you shall feel free of this burden soon, Dearest.”

A small kindness. But, given the circumstances, it was the only one that could be offered. Harwin nodded understandingly.

“Now… are we done speaking of your father?” you pivoted then, your tone light and teasing. You placed your hands on Harwin’s chest, and your fingers settled dangerously close to the buttons of his doublet. “I wish to speak of something else.”

“Ah,” Harwin mused complacently, his eyes lighting up with mischievousness at once. “And what might that be, My Love?”

You slowly undid one button at a time, your eyes never leaving Harwin’s as you did so. Once they were all unfastened, you took the lapels in your hands, and pushed them upwards. Harwin smirked as he assisted you by shrugging the garment up and off his shoulders. The fabric fell down the length of his arms and landed on the floor with a soft thud.

“You’ve caught me,” you whispered coquettishly. “... Perhaps I do not wish to speak much at all.”

Since leaving the Red Keep, all aspects of your relationship with Harwin had improved greatly. A bit of time and distance from the issues that had caused a strain on your marriage had given it a new life.

To put it bluntly- it’d been hard to keep your hands off one another.

“I hope you do not mean you intend to be quiet,” Harwin admitted, his hands reaching up to cradle your face. “For that would not be very enjoyable… and, to be honest, My Love, I do not think that is something you are capable of achieving.”

“Is that so?” you challenged flirtatiously, standing on your toes to put your face closer to his. He drew you nearer, and one of his hands fell to rest on your waist. “Would you care to make a bet then, Dearest?”

“A bet?” Harwin laughed. The sound sent pleasant shivers down your spine. “What do I earn if I win?”

In the blink of an eye, Harwin tucked his chin and leaned down to press a few open mouthed kisses at your neck. The hand on your waist pulled you closer, pressing you tightly against his chest.

You fought to keep your voice level as his ministrations made your legs feel unsteady. Despite the upperhand your husband had, you smirked. “Perhaps I shall only tell you if you are victorious.”

“Hm,” Harwin mumbled into your neck. He tore himself away, looking rather reluctant to do so. His eyes were dark with desire, but you knew you were in no safer hands than his. “I believe that leaves me but with one choice.”

“And what is that?” You kissed him chastly on the lips, relishing in teasing him.

“I must ensure that you are unable to keep quiet.”

You were swept away with pleasant dreams when something stirred you.

As you slowly came to consciousness, you looked around. You were still in the safety of your bed; you’d deduced that much upon your eyes meeting Harwin’s bare chest.

… Perhaps it was nothing.

You sighed tiredly, burrowed further into the sheets, and scooted closer to your husband.

But a moment later, you were roused again.

This time, you could tell it had been Harwin. His whole chest rumbled as he coughed lightly, making him a rather poor makeshift pillow. His eyes were still shut tight; he’d yet to awake from the fit. You decided to wait it out, not wishing to part yourself from him, nor the warmth that he provided.

Although, it was a bit warm in the room already…

However, Harwin’s occasional coughing did not cease. In fact, it yanked him from his own slumber a few moments later.

Your eyes widened, and you leaned back, attempting to give him some space. “Gods, are you alright?”

Harwin cleared his throat and shook his head; a wordless way of dismissing your concern. But when his coughing did not cease, you sat up.

“Let me get you some water-”

Your blood ran cold as your eyes were met with the eerie glow underneath the door across the room.

Flickering lights of reds, oranges, and yellows. Crackling noises too loud and a heat too warm have been caused by the flames in the hearth that would have long since simmered.

Fire.

“Harwin!” you exclaimed frightfully, pointing across the room.

At the sound of your alarm, Harwin shot up straight, and his head whipped over towards the direction you gestured to. You watched as his body tensed with stark realization.

The pair of you scrambled out of bed, finding your night attire with a haste in which neither of you knew you possessed. Harwin looked to make sure you were beside him before hurrying over to the door. Once there, his hand lingered over the handle for a moment, and he touched it lightly, cautiously. He drew his hand back and hissed.

You looked about the room, looking for something, anything. Your eyes landed on Harwin’s discarded doublet. You swept it up and tossed it to him.

Harwin caught it with ease, and placed it over top of the door handle. Now armored with additional fabric, he had a much better time of trying the handle.

The door took a solid few yanks, but eventually, it gave way. The pair of you squinted as the light emitting from the flames hit your eyes immediately. Once you recovered, Harwin stepped out into the hallway first, mindful of his step, and you were right behind him.

Fire lined the walls, and the decor that had adorned them was already reduced to ashes. Flames littered the ground, dancing about your bare feet. But none of that mattered when the pair of you were hit with a moment of dread at the same time.

Derrik. Selwin.

…

“What are children, but a weakness?”

…

Harwin grabbed your hand at once and began to lead you through the fire-kissed corridors.

The chambers that your sons shared- fortunately, they had chosen to share the same rooms for now- were not but a few halls over. But the time it took to reach the door felt far too long.

With the doublet still in hand, Harwin attempted to turn the door handle.

It was to no avail.

Harwin tried again.

Unsuccessful.

…

“A folly, a futility?”

…

Panic settled into your bones more harshly than it had already had. With the nearby flames, the gods only knew how easy it would have been for the metal fixture to start giving way under the sheer heat of the surroundings.

Harwin turned, pressed his shoulder against the wood, and began to throw his entire weight forcefully against the door.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The door would not budge.

Feeling desperate, you joined him in his efforts. Although, a cynical part of you knew that if a man nicknamed Breakbones was unable to force open a door, any additional help from your own strength was not likely to make much of a difference.

…

“Through them you imagine you cheat the Great Darkness of its victory.”

…

But you’d heard the musings of a parent’s strength when their children were in danger. You shouldn’t have doubted them.

After a few more tandem attempts, the door to your sons’ chambers flew open under yours and Harwin’s forces.

Derrick and Selwin were awake, but as their hair was disheveled, sleep lingered in their eyes, and their faces had yet to display anything but utter confusion, you realized they did not understand the extent of what was occurring just on the other side of the door.

“Mother, Father?” Derrik asked with a scrunched nose, wiping at his eyes absent-mindedly. You rushed over to him, throwing the covers off of him and helping him out of bed.

Meanwhile, Harwin dropped the doublet and plucked Selwin up and out of his bed with little effort at all, as if your youngest son was still a babe, and not a boy of almost eight years of age.

…

“You persist forever in some form or another, as if they would keep you from the dust.”

…

The four of you made your way through the brightly lit hallways as fast as you could. Heat weighed heavily down upon you, stray flames danced around your feet, and smoke stole the breath of your lungs. You and Harwin kept Derrik and Selwin between you in an attempt to keep them as secure as possible, and you refused to let either of the boys dawdle. Thankfully, your sons gave you little opposition to this.

When you reached the staircase that would lead you to the bottom of the tower, and more importantly, your subsequent freedom, you were relieved. You took a step towards the stairs, but Harwin halted beside you.

“Go on. Take the boys with you.”

You looked at Harwin like he was mad. Maybe he was. “What?”

“My father,” Harwin recalled gravely. “I have to go back for him.”

…

“But for them, you surrender what you should not.”

…

Perhaps the Lord Hand had already discovered the fire, and fled. Perhaps he was a lost cause already. Perhaps Harwin himself would meet a grim fate in his effort to save his father from the scorching flames.

All of these were extremely valid and persuasive arguments, and yet, none of them came to your tongue. As Derrik and Selwin looked frantically between the two of you with fear and confusion plain upon their face, and as Harwin gave you a look of firm resolve, you found yourself at a loss for words.

“Go, Y/N!” Harwin ordered in response to your inaction. His stern tone left no room for argument.

But still, you hesitated, and looked at him with complete dismay. You couldn’t leave him, not like this… And yet, your children could not remain here either.

The look on Harwin’s face was oddly mournful. …Did he know something you did not?

You searched his face despairingly, frantically trying to commit it to memory, despite the precious time ticking away with every passing second.

“Go, My Love,” Harwin commanded again, his voice softer, but no less commanding. “I shall be right behind you, I swear it.”

…

“You may know what is the right thing to be done, but love stays the hand.”

…

Your eyes filled with tears of unknown cause as you ushered Derrik and Selwin out of the castle and into the scene of utter chaos that was the courtyard.

The entire picture before you was grim and chaotic. People were running about- some carried buckets of water, others drew attention to their wounds to anyone who would listen. Some of the more seriously injured sat down wherever they could find, drawing in upon themselves.

A few of the less fortunate laid on the ground, stiff and unmoving.

The sounds of Derrik and Selwin coughing as fresh air finally blessed their lungs garnered your attention. You grabbed them by the hands and led them away, attempting to put as much distance between yourselves and the chaos behind you as was possible.

As you hurried across the courtyard, several of Lord Lyonel’s men rushed past you.

“The Lord Hand!” you plead to them desperately. “He is still inside, as is my husband!”

“We’ll find them, My Lady.”

You wanted to believe that was true, but the tone of the man who responded to you did not sound entirely reassuring. You trudged on.

On the periphery of the courtyard, Maester Briden was in the midst of attempting to triage. Once he saw the three of you approaching, the elderly man beckoned you over hurriedly. You released your sons’ hands, and let him look over Derrik and Selwin to swiftly assess for any significant injuries. As the Maester worked, you turned around, looking back at the tragedy that was unfolding before your very eyes.

Flame covering stone already blackened by previous damage. Dark smoke billowed upwards towards the sky, reaching higher than the towers themselves.

History had repeated itself; Harrenhal was aflame once again.

The gods had a cruel sense of humor.

“The smoke has gotten to them, but otherwise, they seem to be alright, My Lady,” Maester Briden decided thoughtfully. He turned, directing his next order to an assisting servant girl. “Let’s fetch them some water.”

Your eyes remained affixed to the flames as you offered a level reply. “Thank you, Maester.”

You swallowed thickly. The action caused you to flinch at the dryness of your throat. Every passing second that neither Harwin nor his father emerged from the castle wretched your heart tighter and tighter, until it felt almost impossible to breathe.

A loud rumbling echoed through the air as part of the Kingspyre Tower, where the Strong family’s chambers were located, and where all of you had just been a short while ago, collapsed upon itself. Shouts and screams echoed through the courtyard and as the ground trembled.

Now that they’d been given some water, Derrik and Selwin’s coughing had begun to lighten. You watched them keenly, desperately needing to focus on something else other than your breaking heart.

…

“Love is a downfall.”

…

You sat on the ground beside Derrik and Selwin, feeling helpless and completely numb. You had tried to keep them distracted from the madness around you, even though it was futile.

Amidst the chaos, passerbys looked at the three of you curiously, pitfully even. You could practically read their thoughts as they eyed you before their gaze drifted over to Derrik.

Is this Lord of Harrenhal, now?

…

But then, a sudden struggle across the courtyard immediately roused your attention. Your head whipped over in that direction.

Three of Lord Lyonel’s were emerging from their castle. They wrestled a madly writhing figure in their arms.

“Let me go!” the thrashing man shouted at them viciously. “I have to go back!”

“We’re sorry, My Lord, but you know we cannot do that!”

You almost choked on your relief as the man the soldiers struggled to contain threw his upper body upwards in a vain attempt to break free of their hold. The man’s curls flared wildly outwards, revealing his soot covered face.

Harwin.

Harwin. Harwin. Harwin!

The three men marched across the courtyard, and your husband continued to fight them verbally and physically as they did so. When the men were satisfied with the distance they’d put between themselves and the castle, they deposited Harwin unceremoniously at the feet of Maester Briden.

“Stay here,” you instructed Derrik and Selwin hastily as you rose to your feet. The boys still looked ready to run over to their father at a moment’s notice, but thankfully, they heeded your order.

You scurried over to Harwin instead. When you reached him, you ignored his shouts, which continued to throw impassioned verbal insults at the men who had saved his life. You fell to your knees exhaustedly, so that you could be at his level. Then, you grabbed his face in your hands and forced him to look at you.

Upon your touch, Harwin’s shouting ceased immediately. His eyes shot up to meet yours, and your heart broke for the second time that evening when you saw the tears in his eyes. That’s when you knew.

Lord Lyonel of House Strong, Hand of King Viserys, First of His Name, was dead.

“Y/N,” Harwin breathed brokenly, still struggling for air. Despite being restrained in your hold, he shook his head as he tried to find the words. “My father… I could not-”

You shushed him softly and pulled his head to your chest. Tears fell down your face as the front of your nightgown began to be littered with Harwin’s own. You ran a soothing hand through Harwin’s sweaty curls, knowing through personal experience that no words, no gesture, nothing at all would be able to compensate for the loss he was experiencing.

Come the dawn, the scene was just as grim.

Harwin had taken some time to compose himself, and he swallowed down his grief to be dealt with at a later time. Once he was refocused, the pair of you worked together. Water was directed to the strongest points of the fire. There was an accounting of everyone believed to have been in the fire-affected areas of the castle. Maester Briden was assisted with tending to the wounded. Comfort was given in the last few moments to those who were already lost. Those who were gone were moved, clearing additional room for the other wounded to be seen to.

Despite the brokenness you knew Harwin had to be feeling, he stepped up in the time of desperate need. The people of Harrenhal, who were now his people, looked to him for guidance, and he did not fail them. ‘Proud’ wasn’t a world you felt was apt to describe what you thought of him anymore. As you watched Harwin assist the people of his home, which, now, officially was his, with dried tears staining his otherwise smoky complexion, you recalled House Strong’s words.

Strength in Honor…

Was there strength in honor? … Or could honor come from strength?

Only when the final embers began to simmer did Harwin allow Maester Briden to tend to him.

Harwin had some nasty burns on his arms and legs, which were undoubtedly the result of exposure to flames that he’d endured in his attempt to save his father. As the Maester tended to the wounds, Derrik and Selwin sat closely nearby, not wishing to be parted from either of you.

You felt for them all. In the span of a few hours, Harwin had lost his father, and inherited the duties of the family lordship; your sons had lost their grandsire, and had lived through a terrifying ordeal at such a tender age. You grieved the loss of Lord Lyonel as well; your Good Father had come to be a secondary father figure for you. The painful loss of such a presence felt all too familiar.

“Lord Strong?”

The previous Lord of Harrenhal’s steward had approached them.

It took Harwin a moment to realize he’d been addressed, but when he did, he looked to his father’s steward expectantly. It felt like a punch to the gut when you realized it was likely to be a while for him to make that sort of adjustment.

The steward delivered his report solemnly. “After the fire started, a stable boy noticed someone suspicious lingering about. The man was cloaked, and when the cry for help rang out, he did not rise to the call, and instead, retreated to the shadows. When this matter was brought to me, I decided it was best to apprehend him, with the intention of questioning him once things had settled. I sent a few men to find him, and, as of a few hours ago, they were successful, but… I think it is best if you see him for yourself.”

Harwin moved to rise, but before he could get to his feet, he grimaced in pain.

Maester Briden tsked at him in protest and disapproval. However, the elder man was not affected in the slightest, and he continued tending to your husband’s burns dedicatedly.

“I will go,” you volunteered, looking at Lord Lyonel’s- well, now Harwin’s- steward. “Take me to him. My husb- Lord Strong- still needs to be tended to at this time.”

The steward nodded understandingly. “As you wish, My Lady.”

Harwin gave you a grateful look, but it was not needed. He’d always been a pillar of strength for you when you’d needed him to be. The least you could do was to be the same for him.

“Stay here with your father,” you instructed Derrik and Selwin. It was redundant; you knew it would be hard to tear either of them from you or Harwin’s side for quite some time.

“It appears as though his tongue has been cut out, My Lady.”

You scowled at the scene of the deceased man before you.

After the man had been apprehended, the steward had confined him in one of the cells beneath the castle, which had, fortunately, been spared from the fire. In the morning, the guards found the man dead. There were no physical wounds upon him, but an empty vial, which had held a liquid you could only guess the origin of, was resting in his limp hand.

Staring hard at the man’s face, you raked through the many faces you’d come across in your time at Harrenhal. But nothing, and no one, came to mind. You questioned, “And no one else recognizes him?”

“No, My Lady,” the steward confirmed. He nudged the leg of the body with his foot in disgust. “Whoever he was before, he was a coward when the Stranger took him.” He spat on the ground.

That was easy to agree to. Even though the questioning would have been difficult, given his incapability of speaking, the deceased man had robbed you of the opportunity altogether by quenching his thirst with poison.

“Bury him with the others,” you decided after a moment. “Whether he knew something about this travesty or not, I will not have the gods frown upon us even more for mistreating his body.”

“If that is your command, My Lady, then it shall be done.”

You turned to leave, but you stopped when the rising sun caught the glimmer of something on the man’s cloak.

The steward watched you curiously as turned back to face the deceased man. After crouching down, you leaned forward as closed as you dared, and attempted to get a proper look at what had caught your eye.

It was a pin, affixed to the front of the fabric of the cloak. But it wasn’t just any pin- a small jewel embedded in the metal was the culprit that had caught the sun’s rays. You squinted analytically.

The pin was a firefly. How odd, you thought queerly to yourself. You stared at the pin for a few long moments, before the realization struck you.

You had seen something very similar to the pin before. You were absolutely certain of it.

… But where?

“... Best to make your way through life unencumbered, if you ask me.”

Back in the Red Keep, Queen Alicent Hightower was still reeling from the atrocious suggestions that the now presumed Lord Larys Strong had just conveyed to her.

“They’re dead?”

“You’ve heard the stories of Harrenhal, Your Grace,” Larys danced around her question. “Built in hubris by Harren the Black as a monument to his own greatness. Blood, mixed into the mortar…”

Deeply troubled at the man’s apathy, Queen Alicent clawed at her own throat.

“It is said to be a cursed place, that it passes judgment beneath all who pass beneath its gates.”

“You,” Queen Alicent corrected, appalled. “You passed judgment.”

“The Queen makes a wish… what servant of the realm would not strive to fulfill it?” Larys posed flippantly, as if the answer was simple. “I assume you will write to your father now?”

“Larys,” she hissed despondently, not giving a damn at that moment about who was to fill the suddenly empty post of Hand of the King. “I did not wish for this!”

Her own opinion of Ser Harwin Strong, Princess Rhaenyra, and even Lady Y/N Tyrell aside, there had been the couple’s trueborn children to consider. The children!

“Gods, what of the boys? Your nephews? Your own blood?!” As if his father and brother had not been bad enough.

“Ah, yes, what a pity,” Larys feigned regret. “It is rather tragic when the gods decide to snuff out the light of young lives… But, unfortunately, it would not be the first time in history that children pay for the sins of their parents, would it?”

She was shocked speechless.

“I feel certain you will reward me,” Larys informed her as he plucked a flower he’d been toying with from the vase on the table beside him, “when the time is right.”

Queen Alicent clenched her eyes shut tightly in horror, until a rapt of knocks on her chamber doors forced her to open them once more. She was certain her voice was unsteady, but still, she called out, “Come in!”

Her handmaiden, Talia, entered her chambers. “It is a raven for the King, Your Grace. I would have brought it to him directly, but-”

Queen Alicent recomposed herself. “No, no. You were right to bring it to me. Thank you, Talia.”

The girl handed her the scroll of parchment, and then excused herself.

Larys watched with an amused twinkle in his eye as she read the contents of the correspondence. Redundantly, he inquired, “Has something happened, My Queen?”

“There was a fire at Harrenhal,” Queen Alicent relayed numbly, voice still rough with emotion. “... The Lord Hand is dead.”

Larys’ face was neutral. “Truly? That is most… unfortunate. My father was a good, honorable man… But alas, it would appear that the curse of Harrenhal has claimed yet another victim.”

Queen Alicent’s eyes never left the parchment in her trembling hands. Part of her wanted to desperately cling to every word before her eyes; the other part of her wanted to avoid acknowledging the monster across the room.

When she failed to say anything further, Larys decided she needed some encouragement. “And, what else does it say, My Queen?”

Suddenly, Queen Alicent exhaled a watery sigh of relief, and placed a hand on her chest. She read to him, “Your brother, Ser Harwin, his wife, Lady Y/N Tyrell, and their sons are said to have survived… and Harwin has been named as Lord of Harrenhal… Thank the gods!”

Queen Alicent finally lifted her eyes from the parchment.

The smile on Lord Larys’ face was an extremely unsettling one. His eyes were alive and present, but they contained not a single morsel of joy at the revelation.

“I see…” he commented plainly, clearly at a loss for other words.

Larys idly twirled the flower he’d plucked several times. One, two, three, four spins. Then he suddenly crushed the petals in a tightly-clenched fist. The skin on his fingers turned ghost white from the pressure.

“What splendid news, My Queen.”

A/N: I’m so sorry you guys😢🖤 like previous deaths in this fic, Lord Lyonel’s was a necessary evil. at least I spared Harwin and the boys?😰

Anyways, thank you guys for all the love🖤 I’m going to get working on the next part, which I’d like to have out sometime next week, but I may need some extra time to get it prepared. We’re going to do a time jump once again, to the time span of episode 8. Andddddd, since we lost a character this part, I think it’s time we introduce another on this next one...😉

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend🖤🖤🖤

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octopuscityblues · 4 months

Text

Kafkaryan, The Wrath Of Cod

June 2024 Progress Report

TLDR: Unfortunately we had to push back our planned release date again. We don't have a new date yet, but we're trying our best to bring you Octopus City Blues as soon as humanly possible. We're very sorry about that. The rest of the update will go over some of the things we've been working on and provide additional context for the delay.

Progress

Starting in April, Marina (benevolent tentacle artist) and I (Firas, malevolent snail) significantly changed the way we work. Previously, art and development were mostly done independently and we communicated on a weekly or biweekly basis. We switched to a virtual office kind of setup where we dedicate fixed hours to working together every day. It's been going great so far and we feel much more motivated and productive.

Our current target is the Robot Graveyard, the lawless wasteland at the base of Gold Tower. We're mainly working on the remaining interior locations such as the Conman's shop or the cyborg club.

By the way, we recently released yet another demo update, based on all the quality-of-life and interaction improvements made since the previous one. These include:

🦔 Kaf the Hedgehog is now 33% faster and has 100% more walking frames!

🖼️ Intuitive top-of-the-line settings menu to crank up your sim's colors to 11.

🎨 New text background colors to make your eyes bleed. From the grimy "Jungle" to the ominous "Caput Mortuum".

💬 Switch between the gossip and item menu modes like a pro using Q/E keys or the gamepad's shoulder buttons.

🎮 Say goodbye to gamepad confusion! The simulation will reliably remember the most recently used controller.

🍄 Beetles crave mushrooms. Drop the right item in the plaza and watch the little critters go!

😷 You no longer have to "touch" dirty objects or people to interact with them. Standing close by is sufficient.

🤖 Sacrificing Mom to science will pay off sooner.

🪲 And numerous other fixes, copy editing changes, and a host of new potential bugs for you to discover!

I'm also happy to present one of several music tracks that the newest addition to our team, Shannon (omnibenevolent troubadour), has been working on:

youtube

There's a lot more happening behind the scenes. For example, Julia (unambivalent wordsmith) went over and helped improve large portions of the script, while Karl (ambivalent doodler) is practicing card tricks.

The Delay

Octopus City Blues has had a long and rocky journey over the years, so I apologize if the following is too long and boring. Nevertheless, you all deserve an honest explanation for the delays. Back in late 2021 when I was pitching the project to the Midgame Fund, the plan looked something like this:

Early 2022: Demo play testing

Late 2022: Release of Act 1 in Early Access.

Mid 2023: Steam Next Fest demo

Late 2023 / Early 2024: Release of Act 2

Later in 2024: KS reward fulfillment, possible localization and console ports

After getting funded, the helpful investors at Midgame Fund advised against Early Access and recommended releasing both acts together. Much of 2022 was spent on discussions, planning, and extensive play testing that took place in two main rounds. The testing feedback showed us that we still had much to do, particularly when it came to guiding the players.

By early 2023 we were struggling to follow the original plan as we addressed all the testing feedback. That's why I decided to cut a lot of planned content and rewrite the story so that it no longer had two acts. The original acts were separated by a 10-year gap, which would've required a lot of art editing and writing completely new responses for every character.

The next play testing round coincided with the Indigo event. Even after all the changes made, some players were still struggling with certain parts or running into bugs. That's why we decided to participate in the October Steam Next Fest edition instead of the June one. The release date was pushed back to Q1 2024.

The Next Fest event itself was a great success. After years of neglecting marketing, we used 2023 to promote the project and make it more viable financially. On the other hand, the event left us with even more feedback, some of which we were still addressing in January (2024). The release date was pushed back to Q2.

In early 2024 the Q2 release plan was still feasible. However, things temporarily took a turn for the worse after our last update. The first roadblock was due to real life developments and personal circumstances that impacted the availability of key team members. Thankfully, everything is back to normal now.

A more general problem is that the more we get done, the more work we end up creating for ourselves. The complex branching quest design means that the amount of testing needed can grow exponentially. Automated testing and play testing rounds can only take us so far.

The next obstacle had to do with the 2023 rewrite. Taking a story with many characters and intertwined elements and completely rewriting major parts of it turned out to be much trickier than expected. Some major plot elements simply didn't work in the new framework, and I had to make additional changes to improve the story's overall pacing and consistency.

At first I thought we could still release the main parts, and then slowly restore some content after release. That would've meant early adopters and our biggest supporters wouldn't get the complete intended experience. There are also many more things we'd like to tackle after release (Kickstarter rewards, localization, porting) instead of adding more content.

To be clear, there are some things that we still plan to add after release (as free DLC). In particular, there are the arcade games and the quests related to them. While not part of the main story, they were in our original pitch (and much of the art is already done).

All of this brings us to our current plan. The story is still in one act, but some previously cut areas and quests will be restored. As mentioned in the previous section, we've adopted a new way of working since April and have been slowly adding the remaining areas and characters to the simulation. While things look promising, it's hard to tell what will happen tomorrow or if additional play testing will require even more changes.

OCB is something that particularly benefits from these play testing rounds, because the more we can anticipate the player's actions (e.g. trying to combine the knife and baby items), the more fun and immersive the experience feels. Obviously, we can never get rid of every bug or address all feedback before release. That's why we'll just have to find the right balance.

We still have to finish the following parts: Graveyard (in-progress), Big Beef, Turkeys, and the ending. Of those, Big Beef is the most involved one. I changed the planned release date on Steam to simply 2024 because that's our goal, but please keep in mind that it's not a release date either. We'll only announce a concrete release date once all of these areas are done and work primarily shifts to testing and polishing.

If you've made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read all of that! We remain as committed to this project as we were on day one, and we're genuinely trying our best as flawed and naively optimistic humanoids. We owe it all to your continued support and understanding.

#octopus city blues #pixel art #pixelart #gamedev #screenshotsaturday #indie game #news #update #Youtube

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hidden-misthios · 1 year

Text

Something in the Orange (part 3)

Pairing: Lambert x female!sorceress!reader

Word count: 3 427

Summary: When Geralt of Rivia disappears, Jaskier has no choice but to ask his best friend for help. Although struggling with her own issues, Y/N agrees and they join Vesemir and the others in Kaer Morhen. The search might be difficult but not as difficult as the certain redheaded witcher who keeps challenging her.

A/n: I’m sorry for the long wait AGAIN but the last two months were wild. Enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2

After a couple of failed attempts, impatient mumbles from Ciri and words of encouragement from Jaskier, Y/N did it. The portal was right there in front of them. She felt dizzy and could feel her energy draining incredibly fast but she was awfully proud of herself. Making portals was always risky but this one seemed completely stable. The only problem is going to be keeping it open until everyone crosses.

“Go!” Y/N yells but no one looks like they are ready to go first.

Lambert, who was standing closest to the portal, moves a step back.

“I’m not going to be able to do this whole day. Go.” Y/N looks at him, keeping her arms steady in front of her.

“Why me? So you can close it as soon as I cross over?” he crosses arms. Y/N rolls her eyes and turns around to her best friend.

“Jaskier. Please.” she looks at him with hope in her eyes. Jaskier hesitates for a bit, but slowly nods.

As soon as he moves a step forward, Lambert scoffs and slightly shakes his head.

Jaskier doesn’t say anything but steps forward again.

“Fine, I’ll go first. Save your precious troubadour ass from potential downfall.” he says and steps forward, standing in Jaskier’s way. Jaskier slightly frowns at him, but doesn’t say anything, as if he’s trying to read his mind.

“Go!” Y/N repeats before both men could say anything else.

Lambert glances at her then steps in front of the portal. The portal makes a loud sound but nothing happens as Lambert’s hand slowly touches the dimmed veil. He hesitates for a second before finally stepping inside.

Y/N is holding her breath.

There’s no response from the portal when Lambert fully disappears. Portal is still stable. Y/N feels her heart beating like she just ran a marathon.

He crossed safely. He’s fine.

“Next!” she says, her voice shaky.

Jaskier, who was already on his way when Lambert stopped him, moves forward again.

His fits are nervously clenched but he looks determined.

Once he’s gone, the rest of the group looks a bit more certain now. Portal is still stable, but Y/N feels the energy shifting slightly. Ciri moves closer as soon as Jaskier is through.

“We will have to speed things up a bit.” Y/N tells Vesemir when Ciri crosses over without a word.

She could feel the portal taking more and more energy from her. Y/N wasn’t sure was Ciri’s magic somehow to be blamed for that but she didn’t want to question it any longer.

Vesemir nods and moves forwards immediately. He knew what this meant. Portal was going to be unstable soon.

As Vesemir passes through, Y/N feels something warm on her lips. Her nose was already bleeding.

Shit.

She still had Coen and herself to go through. Portal could go unstable any minute now.

“Coen, wait!” she calls for him. The witcher halts and turns to her. “We need to go together!” she tells him, with hint of panic in her voice.

Coen is visibly confused but nods in silence. He joins her and slowly they start to approach the portal. Y/N’s arms are slightly shaking at this point and her vision is getting blurry.

Come on, you can do this.

As they are about to enter, portal suddenly shatters.

“Jump!” Y/N screams, flinging herself towards. The white light surrounds her and forces her to close her eyes.

The pressure inside her own mind is insane. It lasts only for couple of seconds and then suddenly Y/N feels the ground beneath her and the heaviness is gone. She dares to open her eyes, fully prepared for the worst.

But there she is, standing in front of small rescue group.

Relief hits her and she falls down on her knees. All of her energy was gone. It’s going to take days before she’s fully healed. The energy drained from her by the portal was equivalent to an entire month's worth of effort for an oneiromancer’s work.

Jaskier runs towards her, grabbing her around the shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” brushing the blood off her lips. Jaskier immediately offers her a handkerchief and Y/N takes it.

“Where is Coen?” Lambert asks. Y/N looks at him and then around herself. He wasn’t there. Her heart sinks.

“Where is he?!” Lambert asks, this time, much louder. Y/N manages to stand up with Jaskier’s help.

“He didn’t-”

Lambert is standing in front of her, lifting his arms and aiming for Y/N’s shoulders. Or neck. Y/N couldn’t be too sure.

Whatever his goal was, Lambert was stopped by Vesemir, who suddenly appeared by his right side.

“That’s enough, let her explain.” Vesemir gives him a warning look. “Y/N.” he looks at her now.

“Coen should be just fine. He didn’t jump on time so the portal closed in front of him.” Y/N says, finally leaning on her own feet without Jaskier’s help. Her friend still stood near, monitoring her every movement. “He is unharmed. Probably just upset he didn’t cross over.” she adds.

“If he’s not-”

“Oh, won’t you give me a break! I just held the portal open for 5 people. He is alive and well!” Y/N snaps at redheaded witcher. Lambert’s brows furrowed but he didn’t say anything this time. He turns his back on her in utter silence.

“Now…where are we?” Jaskier quietly asks, looking around. Everyone else does the same. Unfortunately, there isn't much to go on. The eerie woodland lay shrouded in an ethereal mist, its gnarled trees stretching their skeletal branches toward an ominous sky. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and moss. Jaskier, who was still standing next to Y/N, slightly trembles when a distant howl fills their ears.

“Maybe it’s just me, but this doesn’t look like Hengfors.” Ciri mumbles. Y/N feels the wave of shame overwhelm her. She really believed she was powerful enough to do this right.

It was still an early morning but the dense, dark clouds hindered the sunlight from piercing through. With each passing moment, the mist enveloping them grew denser and heavier.

“No, but we have to find our way there.” Vesemir adds calmly. Y/N slowly makes a step forward and approaches him.

“I’m sorry-” Y/N says. Vesemir’s yellow eyes stared at her with a piercing gaze. “Do not apologize, Y/N. You helped us.”

“We don’t even know where we are.” Y/N says feeling the slight dizziness overcome her again.

“We will get to the closest town. We should head west.” he says, this time to the whole group, which meant their discussion was over.

Vesemir took the lead and Ciri followed, tightly gripping the hilt of her silver sword.

Y/N nervously swallowed. Despite taking a deep breath, the dizziness persisted. She wouldn’t dare to stop the group for her own troubles. She had to walk.

Jaskier, who remained by her side, regarded her with a gaze filled with concern. Y/N felt even worse. She didn’t want anyone’s pity for her own failure.

“I’m fine. We should go.” she tells him.

“Can you walk?” he asks, obviously not convinced. Y/N nods and takes a few steps forward. The bard lets out a sigh, refraining from uttering a word, and began trailing behind Ciri.

Y/N's attention was drawn to Lambert's figure, catching a glimpse of him behind her with the corner of her eye. She didn’t like him walking behind her but had no energy or desire to fight him again.

The group walked in a tranquil silence, enveloped by the ambient sounds of nature that surrounded them. Even Jaskier remained quiet, occupied with his own thoughts and worries about their current location.

But no one blamed Y/N. Not even the red headed witcher at the end of the line.

Y/N fixated on her own steps, each one proving more difficult than the last. All she wanted now was to lay down and sleep for days.

***

After a few hours of (mostly) silent walking, the landscape around them began to change - woodland was replaced by eerie swamp. Y/N took a deep breath. The air became infused with a pungent aroma, carrying the unmistakable scent of decaying vegetation and stagnant water that defined the wetland.

Muscles in Y/N’s legs were screaming. Her whole body did. She had reached the point where she truly didn't know how much longer she could continue walking. When she finally raised her gaze from the ground, which had captivated her attention for the past half hour, she came to the realization that she had fallen behind. Jaskier now walked at least 10 meters ahead of her, leaving her with the undeniable awareness that her pace had slowed down.

“We have to pick up the pace. We don't want to be trapped in a swamp when it gets dark.” Vesemir shouted from upfront. Lambert, who was still walking behind Y/N quietly, didn’t say anything, but Y/N heard his steps getting closer to her now. When he finally bypassed her, Y/N felt helpless. Her own feet were betraying her. She struggled to focus on each step, but her vision was blurring with every moment.

She abruptly stopped. At last, her body yielded to the unforgiving grasp of exhaustion, and her knees crumpled to the ground with a muffled thud. Y/N’s eyes already closed when she felt someone’s hands catch her around her waist.

As her consciousness slipped away, she was embraced by the sudden darkness.

***

She slowly regained consciousness, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal the unfamiliar surroundings. Groggy and disoriented, Y/N took a deep breath, feeling her body gradually come back to life.

“Y/N!” she heard a familiar voice next to her. She moves her head to the side. Jaskier lowered himself into a crouch beside her, immediately helping her to sit up. Y/N looks around.

By the sound surrounding them, she was sure they were still in the wetlands. A disappointed sigh escaped her lips.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jaskier asks her, monitoring her face as if she was about to faint again.

“I didn’t want us to stop walking.” she mutters, trying to get up on her unsteady feet. It was pitch darkness around them, the only light sources were small lanterns placed around their improvised campsite.

“Sit down! We won't be going anywhere until morning.” he scolds her.

“Jaskier, I’m fine. We can go.”

“That’s what you said the last time and then fainted into that revolting mud.” he retorted with a tinge of frustration in his voice.

Suddenly Y/N remembers the last moment before the world blackened in front of her eyes. She instinctively touches her waist, as if expecting to still feel the lingering touch of hands upon it.

“But you got me. I didn’t fell.” she says, unsure in her own words. Was it Jaskier? Or was she imagining the whole thing?

“I-I didn’t.” Jaskier says reluctantly, his eyes suddenly looking away from her. Y/N frowns.

“Jaskier…”

“Fine! It was him!” he finally confessed, lowering his voice. Then his gaze shifted to Y/N’s left side. She slowly turns her head.

Lambert.

He rested against a fallen ash tree; arms crossed over his chest with his head slightly bowed down. He was asleep. Or at least looked like he was. Y/N wasn’t even sure if witchers ever properly slept.

“Him?” Y/N whispers but there was panic in her voice.

“Yes, him.” Jaskier says impatiently, still looking at the redheaded witcher. “He carried you for an hour without a word. When I insisted that I should be the one to carry you, he told me to get lost. Can you imagine!” he says, not even bothering to hide his reluctance.

Just as Y/N was about to voice her complaint, the witcher's sudden movement startle them both, causing them to jerk back in surprise.

“In fact, I believe my exact words were ‘sod off’.” Lambert mutters to Jaskier, but his gaze is pierced on Y/N. Y/N’s mouth open but she’s speechless.

Why on earth would he carry me?

Jaskier stood up. With an indignant huff, he straightened his posture. "Well then, aren't you a delightful specimen of manners." he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Lambert glances at him with a sardonic smirk, clearly amused. “Happy to be of service.”

“Alright, now that’s settled...” Y/N interveners, still feeling uncomfortable. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere near Creyden or Luton. Braa river is this way.” Lambert turns the point of his dagger to the north.” We won’t be sure until the morning.”

Y/N took a moment to realize where they are. “So…I didn’t mess up.”

“What do you mean ‘mess up?” Jaskier asks with confusion. Y/N finally manages to get up on her own feet. She located her leather bag just a few steps away from her. Thankfully, she carried a map with her!

“Hengfors,” she exclaims optimistically as she crouched down, “is just right behind us.” Y/N lowers the map on the somewhat of a flat stone. With a quick motion, she straightens the crumpled piece of paper. Jaskier and Lambert appear beside her, each holding a lantern to illuminate the map.

“If your assumptions are right, we should be right here.” she points to a blank part of the paper, surrounded by four cities – Blaviken, Luton, Jamurlak and Hengfors.

“Fuck.” Lambert quietly says, turning around. Y/N’s optimism suddenly vanishes.

“Isn’t that good? We know where we are.” she asks, standing up again. Lambert doesn’t look at her, but somewhere in the black void that was surrounding them.

“These roads are feeding grounds for kikimoras.” he mutters, as the flickering glow of the lantern bounced off the contours of his stern face.

“Of course they are.” Jaskier anxiously uttered his words, his throat tight with tension.

Y/N felt the chills down her spine. She never encountered any monsters. She had no idea how to fight. She didn’t need to do that in Novigrad anyway.

“I’m sure you have plenty of experience in fighting monsters with Geralt, bard.” Lambert mocks him, lowering the lantern on the ground.

“Actually I’m- “

“Don’t answer that.” Y/N interrupts him. “Where are Ciri and Vesemir?” she decides to change the subject.

“They are taking turns guarding the camp.” Lambert answers and settles down on the very same tree where Y/N first spotted him when she woke up. “My shift just ended so excuse me for a next hour or two.”

Y/N and Jaskier return to the spot where Y/N woke up and they sit down on her bedroll.

“You should sleep too, you know.” Y/N tells her friend. Jaskier shakes his head immediately.

“Not a chance. I’ll watch over you.”

“I just woke up. You should be the one sleeping.” she insists.

“I’m not-”

“You don’t own me anything, Jaskier.” she gently nudges his arm, smiling at her friend.

“I do. And least I can do is let you sleep.”

“You won’t be of any use to me tomorrow if you’re going to be tired.” Y/N continues. Jaskier lets out a sigh. Heavy-lidded and burdened with the weight of exhaustion, his eyes were veiled by a haze of fatigue.

“Fine. But only for a few minutes.” he says, leaning against the log behind him. “Promise you’ll wake me up.”

***

Y/N, of course, did not wake up the bard. She sat there, surrounded by the darkness of the eerie swamp and just watched. Her surroundings were mostly quiet – occasional hoots or croaking from shallow waters. The night seemed peaceful which calmed her nerves.

As the early light of dawn emerged on the horizon, Vesemir and Ciri made their way back to their camp. Despite their appearance of alertness, Y/N knew that the lack of rest was taking its toll on them.

“Someone’s finally awake.” Ciri says with a mocking tone, but the smile on her face was friendly.

“I’m sorry-”

"Pay no attention to her, Y/N," Vesemir softly adds, tossing a flask full of water towards the girl. Ciri catches it swiftly, gulping down half of it in an instant. Older witcher walks over to Y/N and gazes at the slumbering bard. Jaskier's mouth is slightly ajar, emitting gentle snores as he rests peacefully.

“Not quite a guardian, that one.”

“I told him to sleep.” Y/N explains and finally gets up on her feet. She felt safer now when they were all together again. Ciri joined Lambert, gently tapping him on the shoulders. Witcher instantly opened his eyes and looked at the group surrounding him.

It was time to move.

Few hours and lots of kilometres later, they finally saw signs of civilization. The sun had risen high in the sky, yet it offered little warmth. Vesemir and Ciri were leading the group, but even their firm steps started to slow down after a while. Jaskier was awfully quiet again, but Y/N knew better than to ask questions.

And behind her, there was Lambert again.

From time to time, Y/N swore she could feel his gaze but when she subtly turned around to check, he wasn’t looking. It was annoying and distracting, she realized, but there was nothing to say or do without starting another fight with stubborn man.

It was late afternoon when they finally reached the city of Luton. If such a place could even be called city, Y/N thought. At the core of the city lay a bustling and malodorous port, where the constant cries of seagulls filled the air, circling overhead as they mingled with the scent of the sea.

Vesemir suddenly stops and turns around to face the group.

“Alright. This is where we split up. Ciri-” he turns to the girl “Find us a supply shop. Herbs, oils, whatever you can think of.”

Ciri nods and leaves, not waiting for other instructions. Y/N is nervously looking around, not really sure if splitting up is good idea.

“Jaskier.” Vesemir turns to face the bard. Jaskier clears his throat and steps forward as he was waiting for his instructions. “Find us a quiet inn for tonight. Not too crowded nor too empty. Somewhere we won’t draw attention. Find me here in an hour.”

“Got it.” Jaskier nods quickly, looks around a few times and then leaves in the same direction where Ciri left just few seconds ago. Y/N knew it was her turn now.

Vesemir turns to her, with a soft look in his eyes. “Y/N. You’re going to snoop around. Look for the notice boards. Eavesdrop for the stories about our whereabouts. If someone is looking for us, we have less time than we thought.” he says, occasionally glancing around. Y/N suddenly straightens her back, as she feels chills going down her spine.

“Where should I meet you?” she asks quietly.

“We will find you after everything is prepared.” Vesemir says. Y/N quietly nods and decides to follow Ciri’s and Jaskier’s direction.

“Oh, and Y/N.” Vesemir adds before she has the chance to make another step forward. “Take Lambert with you.”

Both Y/N and Lambert groan.

“I can do this on my own, Vesemir.” Y/N says. Vesemir’s eyes suddenly darken.

“Can you? Could you defeat a drunkard who wants to fight you? Would you find a thief who steals your bag or money? “He asks her, his voice suddenly colder. Y/N suddenly feels ashamed and doesn’t know what to answer. She was a sorceress. If things got out of hand she could always rely on her magic. But she knew that would be the end of her. This wasn’t Novigrad – and magic wasn’t welcomed here.

“And you” suddenly he turns to Lambert. “Stay out of trouble. Keep an eye on Y/N. And don’t draw attention to yourselves.”

Lambert looks at Y/N and then back to Vesemir. “Got it.” he mutters and joins Y/N.

“What about-” Lambert was about to ask, but when he turned around again to face Vesemir, he was already out of sight. “Fast for an old man.” he mutters and faces Y/N. He looks at her for couple of seconds and sighs.

“What?” she asks, even more nervous now when he was completely focused on her.

“You’re not good at this, you know.” Lambert says and approaches her. Y/N freezes when his hands move towards her shoulders. He grabs the edges of her coat and pulls the hood over her head. Y/N frowns a little.

“Of course I’m not! I generally don’t waste my days hiding around foul-smelling cities or looking for kidnapped witchers.” she finally says, crossing arms on her chests.

“Well today is your lucky day, your highness.” he grins and pulls hood over his own head as well.

“Let’s go.”

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thislovintime · 2 years

Photo

(Photo 1) Michael Nesmith, Davy Jones, and Peter Tork onstage in August 1967, photo by Tom Morton; (photos 4, 6 & 7) Peter taking photographs of Michael and Davy, published in Flip magazine, March 1968; (photo 5) Peter and Michael at the 2014 Monkees Convention, photo by Bobby Bank/WireImage.

“I have a great deal of respect for Mike as a musician and a songwriter. He’s very good. He could make it on his own easily. Also he’s one of the funniest people I’ve ever met. [...] Davy has a lot of guts. Internal fortitude if you prefer.” - Peter Tork, Flip, August 1967

“The first time I met Peter was at the Troubadour where he performed, long before the auditions. I’ve always liked his warmth and honesty. And he’s always been very kind to me. Both Davy and Peter have lived with us and Peter was always very considerate, helping with the dishes and all. [...] Christian liked all of them right from the first. He’s always so happy when any of the Monkees drops over. When Davy and Peter lived with us it was kind of a family atmosphere. They just all kind of pitched in — and even babysat for us!” - Phyllis Nesmith, Fave magazine, January 1968

“I remember staying at Mike’s house in Hollywood when we first started filming the series. It was the upper story of a two-story building on a little hillside. Mike’s wife, Phyllis, was wonderful. Mike and I laughed a lot and played music together. I remember that time very fondly.” - Peter Tork, When The Music Mattered (1984) (x)

“Looking back I have to say that Davy was the one I had the most feeling for, Micky was the one I had the most fun with, and Mike was the one I had the most respect for.” - Peter Tork, Monkeemania: The True Story of The Monkees (1997)

“The man was unique and a huge, huge talent. We’re not going to replace him. [...] [Davy] was such a little heartthrob. I don’t think people knew how bright and talented and gifted he was in all things. I’ve come to believe he was, in his own way, the smartest, most musically talented and best actor among us.” - Peter Tork, Boston Globe, May 16, 2013

“Basically with Michael we don’t ask [about touring with The Monkees]. If he says that he doesn’t want to do it, then he doesn’t want to do it. Nobody has very much influence on Michael in any case so there is hardly any point is us trying to cajole him into anything that he doesn’t want to do. We will miss Tex.” - Peter Tork, UK Music Reviews, May 28, 2015

“We dearly miss our dear departed brother; our brother in arms; the small one, now what’s his name, it will come to me in a minute (laughter). We called him the Manchester Cowboy. Davy had a love affair; a brief flirtation with country music for a little while and we called him the Manchester Cowboy from that, and it stuck. It’s all fond memories.” - Peter Tork, UK Music Reviews, May 28, 2015

“The first time I heard that [’Me and Magdalena’] I heard just Michael’s lead vocal without Micky’s harmony part, and I was really struck. Michael has tapped some new, personal emotional depth within himself that I never expected to hear on record. [...] I only now have, in the last couple of years, come to understand how smart and good-hearted Davy Jones could be. I did not have the skills to notice that, even though I was drawn to it without knowing exactly why. But I certainly did not have the first clue of how to encourage all of the good stuff from Davy that I loved. I wish I could have known how to do it — and he might still be with us, even.” - Peter Tork, Las Vegas Weekly, September 14, 2016

“Mike and I have been back and forth with the emails […] I bore him no ill-will. I have a lot of respect and admiration and some affection for Mike. And I’m glad to be back in touch with him.” - Peter Tork, interview with Iain Lee, 2012

"What I made the decision to do [in the last year or so of Peter’s life] was to stand by his side, be a friend and give him as good a send-off as I know how to give from this plane of existence.” - Michael Nesmith, The Courier Mail, April 10, 2019

"I will miss [Peter] — a brother in arms. Take flight my Brother.” - Michael Nesmith, Facebook, February 2019 (x)

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irisopranta · 9 months

Text

The Girl from Gridania - Part 3

Part 3 of Iris’s origin story Part 1 Part 2 Word Count: 2028

Night has fallen over the forested city-state. The tavern was bustling. The troubadours bellowing out songs and patrons of all sorts merrily danced to their tunes. A cloaked woman approached the proprietor of the tavern, Miounne.

“I’m looking for some adventurers,” the cloaked woman whispered. “ A lalafell named Papalymo and hyur named Yda. Have you seen them?”

Miounne smirked, “Why yes, I’ve heard that they are looking around the Spirithold. You might be able to catch them there.” The cloaked woman nodded and walked away. “Oh, and Iris, I won’t tell anyone you were here.”

Iris sighed, “Thank you, Miounne.” She headed out, with a lantern in hand.

The darkness enveloped the forest. The only light is from the flicker of Iris’s lantern. It had an eerie feel to it that Iris just couldn’t shake off. She approached the fortress. She looked around to see if she could find those adventurers. However, no one was there and only the leaves made sound in the wind.

With a sigh, she turned around to start her search again. As she made her way to the entrance, the ground rubbled. This didn’t feel like the tremors from earlier. Thumping echoed through the ruins. Iris turned around to see a golem. “Oh jeez.” Iris was getting tired of all these giant creatures going on a rampage. She pulled out her staff. “Oh graceful wind, I call you forth. AERO!” A gale of wind enveloped the golem. In its anger, it swings its sturdy arm trying to crush the elezen woman. Quick on her feet, she was able to dodge the heavy blow. Debris from the stone floor scattered about. The golem roared. Iris realizes that she needs to neutralize the golem somehow.

Before she knew it, a fireball radianted before her. "Are you okay?" A familiar voice called out to her. Iris looked beyond the golem to see Papalymo and Yda. The golem stabled itself again. It started to wind up another punch towards the lalafell. However, his Hyur companion knocked the punch out of the air with her own.

The force from it was so strong that the golem started to rumble and crumble. Its body couldn’t hold form and started to separate boulder by boulder. As they fall to the ground dust and rubble kicked up into the air. The three cough and gagged from all the debris. It started to settled. As it did Iris looked over to the two adventurers that she was hunting down. The two were still coughing from dirt.

Iris cleared her throat. “There you are.” She glared at the two. “I have questions and you have answers.” The two adventurers finally cleared their own throats as the dust was cleared from the atmosphere. The two were unsure as to what she wanted them for. They could only trade a confused look to her.

A silence grew between the three. Papalymo cleared out his voice once again “Well?” He questioned her as he expected her to asked it as they looked at her.

“Ah right. Well it seemed that you two knew what was going on when I fainted.” She tries recalling what Papalymo said “A surfeit of aether you said. Isn’t that right?”

Papalymo nodded “Ah the aether of course.” He mumbled before pondering for a moment. He paced as he thought. “Well, It could be a surfeit of aether that just gives the headaches but…..” He trails off his sentence.

“But what?” Iris inquired more wondering what the knowledgeable scholar knows.

Speaking again Papalymo exclaimed “Nevermind that, we need to track down that villain that’s threatenings the twelveswood.” “Villain?” Iris confused as to why the lalafellin man would changed the subject. “What are you even talking about? Couldn’t you just answer my question?”

He shocked his head, “This is more important. If we don’t get this situation sorted out everything will just get worse here.” He ran off out of the keep. Yda followed suit before waving her goodbyes to the elezen woman. Iris could only sigh, now alone in the keep. There wasn’t much left to do in this decrypted fortress so she decided to leave.

“Back to square one.” She sighed once again. She looked around now she is outside. She couldn’t see far from the light of her lantern. “Now where did those two go?” There were no signs of their departure. Iris could only sigh in disappointment. She figured this trail had gone cold that she was better off going home.

She took a break at Bentbranch. She got a cup of tea from one of the chocobo tenders while she thought. It was getting close to midnight she figured. She was tired. She knew she should make it home and go to bed. However, she couldn’t let this go. For once, she might have the answers to what is going with her. Would she ever get the chance to get these answers.

She finished her cup of tea and gave it back to the tender before heading back to Gridania proper. As she took the path back a dark figure appeared before her. They stood in front of her, as though they want to catch her for stealing. She wasn’t sure what to make of them. Wary, her guard was up.

“Who are you?” Her voice shaking in her speech.

“I wouldn’t worry about me, my dear.” His voice was gravelly. Before Iris realized it, the figure cast a spell. She found herself in a different location. Looking around, Iris realized that she was teleported to a large tree. It wasn’t long though that she heard some rustling. Quickly, she hid behind a rock. She looked over it and spied a group of Ixals. She tried to make out what they were saying but couldn’t over their growling voices.

“What do we have here, well?” She heard a hoarse voice spoke behind her causing her to jump. It belonged to an Ixal. Their sword was brandished. Iris wasn’t sure what to do. If she ran, who could say that the Ixal wouldn’t give chase and chop her down. Staying also didn’t seem like the best idea either. Her body moved on its own and she tries scattering away before falling down. Terrified, she grabbed her staff hoping to defend herself. The Ixal knocked her staff away, disarming her. What else could she do but run away. She turned her back on the beast man and scamper away. As she did, the Ixal used the pommel of their sword to knock her out.

Awhile later, she woke up, tied up and surrounded by Ixals. Iris tried struggling through the ropes to free herself. The Ixals were getting rowdy. It was as though they were planning on executing some ceremony. One of the Ixals stand above the group.

“Garuda, we will summon. Featherless, become one of us, they will.” The ixals all cheered to the leader’s message. She continue to struggle out the ropes. It was hopeless, they were bound to tight for her to even get free. Was this how it was going to end for her; tempered to be Garuda’s thrall. Iris’ face grew pale, sicken with the situation she found herself in. Her breathing was more labored than before as panic sets in.

As she accepted her fate, the ixals started to get knocked out, one by one. Looking onto the direction they were felled she spotted a familiar Hyur woman and Lalafellin man. She wasn’t to surprised that the woman was throwing her fist at every ixal she could find. The Lalafellin man made his way to Iris. He started to untie her. “Are you alright miss?” He asked.

“As alright as a tired Elezen can be.” Realizing that it’s terribly late, it’s probably coming up to the morning. The Lalafell gave her staff back and help her back on her feet.

“Good, well, we should take care of these beast men.” Papalymo ready his staff. Iris follow suit. The good news for these two was the Ixals were busy with Yda, who at this point had taken down at least half of the group. There were at least a dozen Ixali laying down on the ground unconscious. The beast men retreated and regrouped, ready to face off the three.

“Featherless, wish for death, you do?” The leader of the Ixali exclaimed towards the group, hoping to scare them off.

“Knowing what you plan on doing, It’s worth the risk.” Iris spat at the the group. Knowing that this can’t end well if left unchecked. Yda and Papalymo were standing beside her, the two were willing to help her out. The Ixali growled a bit before lunging at the three.

Yda stepped in front of the mages, facing the now angered beast men. She breathed in to gained some composure, then exhaled. At the instant she was in the middle of the Ixali group. She was quick to deliver a flurry of punches to a few of them. Feathers falling off their bodies, creating cover for both sides. The few that were lucky to avoid the barrage figured it would be better to spend their energy taking down the mages that are now defenseless.

“Oh graceful wind, I call you forth. AERO!” Iris chanted out, as gales of winds started to wrap itself around the group. They twisted and whirled, but the Ixali didn’t seemed too fazed by the wind. She felt she should have thought that through considering who they worship. She looked over to the lalafellin man that is next her as his spell fired off. A blaze let loose on a few more of the Ixali. They seemed to back off for a moment before they realize that the monk who was just behind them was already throwing fists at them.

The Ixali realized that they weren’t going to defeat all three of them and decided to retreat. The three watched as they ran off, deciding that pursuing them would do more harm than good. Iris met up with Yda, who was a bit winded from the fight. The elezen realized she was injured ever so slightly. Seeing this, she brought forth some aether to heal her up. As she was healing her, she chimed up. “Alright I need to know, what is going on. Rarely do I run into a group of adventurers more than once a day. Why are you here? What do you know about what’s going on with me? What was up with the Ixali?” She eyes Papalymo as she has a feeling that he is the brains of this whole operation.

A silence fell over the dark night. Papalymo wasn’t quite sure how to answer the barrage of questions. He hummed and hummed as though he was trying to answer them but not to give too much information. “We are here to investigate what is going on here. You see there is…..”

“Yda!” Yda started to answer her question but was swiftly interrupted by Papalymo. His loud protest to her answer tells Iris something is up. He gritted his teeth and continued to speak. “We need to keep that secret. We don’t know where that fiend may be.” He then ran up the Yda, grasping at her wrist. Before run off again he shouted “Fare thee well, fair gridanian woman. We must be off.” Shockingly he was able to drag the woman who just beat up a dozen of Ixali just a moment ago. Mayhaps she accepted that the lalafell might do something if she spill their secret.

“Wait!” Iris tried stopping the two. But they disappeared into the night. As annoying it is, Iris realized that she should really call it a night.

She turned heel and was ready to take her steps back to the city state. “Well, why would a seamstress be here this late at night?” A deep baritone voice broke the through the dead of night. She recognize the voice and feeling of dread over came her. She knew that her night had only gotten longer.

She stared at the eyes that had their sights on her before sighing out his name “Gritort.”

#flower of hope #oc: iris opranta #ffxiv

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