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#also in honor of the other kings ill tag

ilynpilled · 1 year

Text

links

+ art sideblog: here

if some links dont work just replace the @ with ilynpilled

ask: link

courage: link

vows: link

bran: link

the knight and power: link

riverlands: link

parallax: link

punitive justice: link, link

honor deconstructed and reconstructed: link

whatever the hell is going on with moon symbolism: link & link

etymology: link

agency (ASoS): link

hand symbolism: link

passive suicidal ideation: link

narrative PoV and prose: link

babies & trebuchets: link

rhaegar’s children: link, link

forgiveness theme: link

redemption theme: link, link, link

jaime and the obsession with embodying the protective figure + tywin: link

handloss, vargo & tywin: link

more on AFfC: link

violence & masculinity: link

symbolism from book 1 to 5: link, link

trajectory: link

laughter: link, link

the game & the family: link

confession motif: link

silence motif: link

#or go thru his tag on here #since i missed a lot probably who cares #older ones are less good bc i change my mind every other month but u know 💯

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jiminsproof · 8 months

Text

tag game 📺

I was tagged by Heather @summerwave to list 10 TV shows so that you besties could get to know me better! Thank you my dear, hope that this week has been good to you so far 💗🫂

Here goes:

Hannibal (nobody is surprised). I'm obsessed with this series, I know dialogues by heart, probably my ultimate favourite. I don't even know how many times I watched it but it's a LOT. Especially season 3, my favourite (where does the difference between the past and the future come from? ... mine? before you and after y- [gets dragged off stage])

Good Omens. I have just recently watched season 2 and it ripped my heart out in the best way possible!! I loved it, very cathartic, can't wait for s3 to fix this mess though 😭

Fleabag. Another TV series that I've watched very recently but moved me in many ways! Really heartbreaking and hilarious at the same time!!

The Untamed. One of the best character development I've seen! I loved how everyone got to explain their side of things, it was very refreshing and interesting to see. ALSO LAN XICHEN IS MY CHILD (and Wuxian obviously, mental illness bisexual king, also shoutout to the best line ever aka: If I am doomed to death, then I could at least be killed by you, that would be worth it 💯💯💯😧😧😧🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 ATE. PEAK ROMANCE)

Killing Eve. I hated the ending but I loved the series for most of it! And I especially loved Eve's journey in this, it was so fascinating to watch her change!

Bad Buddy. Such an amazing TV series aka modern (and gay) retelling of Romeo and Juliet!

Word of Honor. I honestly think this series (similarly to The Untamed) has one of the best character development I've ever seen and it makes up for all its (more technical) shortcomings. I love the main characters and how they do not truly fit the hero archetype! Very refreshing. Heartbreaking in many ways, also fascinating female characters. It's all about unconditional love bro and breaking free of the harmful patterns created by a traumatic past- [gets booed, leaves in shame]

Love is Blind. Had to add in something silly as well 🤣 It's a reality show in which people fall in love not seeing each other. I will never understand straight people, this show is hilarious. I watch it for the memes

Sharp Objects. Incredible show with just the best female characters and allusions to mythology. Deals with a lot of dark topics and has an amazing plot twist! I loved its atmosphere.

Heartstopper. Despite having watched it only recently, I absolutely loved its depiction of queerness! Especially the refreshing treatment of bisexuality, which sometimes is lost even in BL dramas I've watched so far. Lovely!

Honourable mentions: Crash Landing on You, Kinnporsche, Vincenzo, It's Okay not to be Okay

Tagging some of my lovelies and giving each and every one of you the biggest hug!! 🫂 Also no pressure: @aprylynn, @blueside-hobi, @cordiallyfuturedwight, @kimchokejin, @banghwa, @india-stoker, @lyubins, @nodtnutthasid, @platypusplayhere, @raplinenthusiasts, @seraphjimin, @young-jae. 💗

#tag games #moots 💗#heather 🌊#hope that everyone is well!!#please remember to drink tons of water (ESPECIALLY if you're in europe the heat is smh.....)#ily 💗

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groovyghostie · 9 months

Text

The Seer: Part 1

Hey, guys! This is my Storytime Big Bang 2023 (@tss-storytime) submission! It was a lot of hard work and fun to get this done, and I'm really super proud of it! Mind the tags, stay safe, and enjoy! I was partnered with @creative-lampd-liberties, an amazing artist, for this event. You can find the art they made here. They also made the cover below!!! I'm putting this fic on Tumblr (even though I hate posting fics here -_-) because I have it set to registered users only on AO3 to help avoid bot AI scraping. That said, here's the AO3 link for those who are registered users on AO3:

[AO3 Link]

Summary: After spending most of his teenage years pretending to be something he’s not (a girl), then spending his adult life so far pretending to be something else he’s not (a clairvoyant), Janus is caught off-guard when he is granted real powers. He is the seer that predicts the downfall of the kingdom, as well as the potential salvation. The problem? The kingdom’s hero is Roman, Janus’s best friend’s brother, who… dislikes Janus. A lot. Now Janus is stuck going on a quest to destroy the source of The Dragon Witch’s power with a ragtag band of adventurers, and he has the unfortunate task of making sure they all survive. The forest is dangerous. So is their enemy. Janus hopes his friends are even more formidable.

Rating: T

Word Count: 26,268

Ships: Janus/Roman, Remus/Patton, Logan/Virgil, Thomas/Remy, Prince/Anxiety (shorts), Dad/Teacher (shorts)

Content Warnings: fire, description of burnt bodies, description of corpses, minor character death, animal death, parent death, sibling death, blood, assault, description of being burned, main character disowned by parents, mortal peril, kidnapping, injuries, transphobia, alcohol use, deadnaming, swearing

[Fic under readmore]

Prologue

Logan took his job very seriously. Being the prince’s manservant on top of being co-leader of the servants was a monumental task, but it was also a monumental honor. Of course, it was hard to feel honored when he was in the middle of taking the prince’s now-dry laundry back to his room so he could hang it up in the wardrobe. One basket on his head and the other on his hip with a hand on each one, Logan balanced the large burden carefully. He was passing one of the guest bedrooms, of which the door was cracked open, when he heard voices. He wasn’t sure who was in that room. Guests were more Remy’s department, because Remy could be charming when he wanted to be. That wasn’t Logan’s department either.

He slowed, drifting closer to the door to listen.

“...illing him won’t be easy,” said a male voice.

“Please, with me on your side, we’ll have no issues. It’s the chaos after that we must worry about.” This voice was female. It was smooth and sweet, the definition of comforting.

“Still, we must be careful that no one guesses what we’re up to. We’d have to act fast to prevent anyone from stopping us.” Logan recognized that voice. It was Prince Eschive, the king’s brother. That couldn’t be right, though. He wouldn’t be conspiring like this, surely.

“You’re right, of course, Dear One. Caution is of the utmost importance,” said the female voice.

Logan peeked through the crack in the door. He could see the woman, now, and was fairly certain that it was Duchess Adalinda Draco. She was visiting the palace because she was a childhood playmate of the queen. This didn’t make any sense.

“I’m glad we’re agreed, Darling,” said Eschive. “And when we kill my brother and his family, you shall make a lovely queen.”

Logan’s eyes widened. They wanted to kill King Marceau, along with his entire family. But that couldn’t be right.

Adalinda grinned and leaned in toward Eschive. “And you shall be a powerful, respected king.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him. Logan’s eyes were drawn to her shadow. It shifted against the wall, forming unfamiliar shapes. It took Logan a few beats to figure out what he was seeing. Then the shape came together in his head. Horns. A tail. Wings. Very draconic, indeed. He gasped.

Adalinda pulled away from Eschive. “Did you hear something?”

Eschive nodded, face darkening, and Logan took that as his cue to leave. He rushed the rest of the way to the corner and turned it quickly, then ducked into a servants’ kitchenette. He waited there, his heart pounding in his ears.

After a few minutes, when he realized they weren’t going to come after him, he left the small room and headed towards Prince Virgil’s room again. No one would believe him with his word against Prince Eschive’s. He’d have to take this into his own hands.

1: The Conman

Janus leaned forward, placing his chin on his folded hands with his elbows on the table. “Tell me, Ms. Fortuna, what can I do to help you?” He looked her over. Salt crusted her hair at the tips, her lips were dry, and she had a spyglass tucked into a loop in her belt. A sailor, then. Judging by the spyglass, probably a captain. Her clothes were fine, too, so probably a merchant, especially when considered with the lack of scars. A pirate would have more scars, and any other kind of ship’s captain would have plainer clothes. “Business, or personal?” he asked.

“Business,” the woman across from him answered in a deep, sonorous voice. “A friend recommended I come here, because I’m worried if I call my fleet back from Hertland they’ll be lost to the storms. Can you tell me whether to wait or to call them back?”

Janus was surprised. If she was, herself, a sailor, she should know that there was a fleet of pirates going up the coast of Hertland, probably toward her ships. He hummed and made his usual show of looking into his crystal ball. His brow furrowed. Then he looked up suddenly. “If you don’t call them back now, they will be taken by pirates. Do they have a mirror you can use to speak to them?”

Ms. Fortuna nodded quickly. “I must go tell them. Thank you so much, Janus.” She reached into her satchel and pulled out a bag about the size of a cantaloupe. When she set it down onto the table, the action was accompanied by the sound of clinking coins. “You’ve done me an invaluable service.”

“Of course, Ms. Fortuna. I wish you good fortune,” he said, smiling at her.

As soon as the front door closed behind her, his smile grew into a grin and he chuckled. He snatched up the bag she’d left him in one hand, his cane in the other, and made his way back to his bedroom.

The room was small, with a comfortable bed, a bookshelf, a wardrobe, and a locked chest all crammed into what little space there was. He went to the chest and knelt to unlock it with the key on a leather strap around his neck. He carefully set his cane on the ground next to him. He grabbed his coin purse, emptied a bit of the bag of coins into it, then locked the bag in the chest. The coin purse got attached to his belt. He left his shop-and-home, locking the door behind himself.

“To suckers!” Remus exclaimed, raising his glass. It was the third of the night, half empty, and Remus’s cheeks were red.

Janus laughed and tapped his glass, still his first, against Remus’s. “To suckers,” he responded, though his smile was fading a bit.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong, sourface?”

Janus shook his head. “It’s nothing. Everything’s perfect.”

“Liar,” Remus accused, pointing at Janus. “Something’s bothering you.”

Janus huffed. “I didn’t lie. Everything is perfect, and that’s what’s bothering me.”

Remus tilted his head, considering that statement for a moment. “What, are you bored?”

“Yes, Remus,” Janus said, voice full of frustration. “Everything’s too easy. It’s both unsettling and incredibly boring.”

“Excuse me,” said someone behind them.

Janus jumped, and they both turned in their seats. The person standing behind them was mostly obscured by a deep midnight blue hooded cloak.

“I couldn’t help but overhear that you’re bored. What do you do for work?” the person asked.

Janus narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but nonetheless answered, “I’m a fortune teller.”

The person sounded like they were grinning, but it was hard to see in the shadows obscuring their face, as they said, “I think I can give you a challenge.” They pulled a hand mirror from their cloak, revealing that their skin was extremely pale. After placing the hand mirror, set against a simple bronze back with a handle, on the bar, leaning between Janus and Remus, they turned on their heel, then they were gone.

“Well, that was weird and creepy,” Remus said, turning back to Janus.

Janus was staring at the mirror. “Yeah.” He shook his head and looked up at Remus. “Well, nothing left to do but keep drinking,” he said with a smile.

Janus awoke with a groan. His head was pounding. He dragged himself from his bed, still wearing his clothes from the night from before. He needed to splash water on his face before anything else. At least he’d gone to the well twice the day before. As he padded towards his basin, leaning more heavily on his cane in the sleepiness of the morning, he suddenly froze.

He stood in the street outside his shop, looking up at the palace. It was on fire, burning bright and hot. People were screaming and crying. There was a sound, the loudest cracking that Janus had ever heard, then the tallest tower of the palace began to fall, right towards Janus. He covered his head.

He was back in his room, the brightness and heat gone. He breathed heavily, looking around in confusion. His hands shook. He looked back toward the bed. There on the blanket lay the mirror, in all its plainness. He’d been looking into it before he fell asleep, noting the odd feeling it gave him. Like a sense of impending doom.

With nothing else to do, he dismissed what he’d seen, felt, and heard as a waking dream and continued his morning routine.

His hands shook for hours.

2: The Duke's Sons

Janus didn’t know why he’d agreed to go to the palace. He hadn’t been back since everything changed. But Remus had requested he accompany them. When the group stopped at his shop, he greeted Duke Erex politely, then Roman Erex, this time his voice dripping with sarcasm. Roman glared at him. He made his way to the back of the group to stand next to Remus and Patton.

“Hi, Jan!” Patton greeted him excitedly.

Janus couldn’t help but smile back at Patton. Patton could almost always improve his mood. “Hello, Patton. Remus, how are you?”

Remus glared at him in a way that was quite reminiscent of his brother. “It’s not fair, you always recover from drinking quicker than me,” he grumbled.

Patton cupped a hand around his mouth and stage-whispered, “He’s been grumpy all morning.”

Janus grinned. “Well, that can only be expected from someone who’s hungover as fuck.”

“Fuck you,” Remus grumbled.

By the time they were near to the palace, Remus was feeling much better. The fresh air had revitalized him. Still he was complaining, just more energetically. “I hate going to the palace,” he groaned. “It’s so stuffy.”

“Can you shut up?” Roman hissed from just in front of them.

“Can you?” Janus shot back.

Roman shot him a glare. “At least I’m not going to the palace in commoner’s clothing,” he sniffed.

Janus grit his teeth. “At least I’m not a stuck-up bitch,” he replied.

Roman whirled around, stopping Janus, Patton, and Remus in their tracks.

“Guys, pl-” Patton tried.

“No, you’re not. But you know what you are, Janus?” Roman asked.

“What?” Janus challenged.

“Dumbasses!” Remus exclaimed, trying to pull their attention to him.

“You’re a fraud. You pretend to be so confident, but you know that, deep down, you’re just faking it. You pretend all the time,” Roman accused. He turned and began to jog to catch up with his father and the bodyguard.

Janus stood, frozen, mouth slightly open.

“Jan…?” Patton asked gently.

Janus snapped from his stupor, set his jaw, and squared his shoulders. “Let’s go.” He began to walk quickly, trying to catch up. His short legs did not help. Patton was in the same boat, but Remus kept up with the two of them effortlessly. Damn his height and long legs.

Still, they did catch up, right as the group arrived at the palace gates. Janus glared angrily at the back of Roman’s head, imagining that his eyes were burning holes into him. Roman ignored him.

The palace corridors were cold, and they echoed. Janus had always disliked that. It drew attention to him when the sound of his cane against the floor was amplified so loudly.

Patton grabbed Remus’s hand, then held his other hand out to Janus. Janus took it gratefully. His heart flooded with gratitude for his friends. He genuinely didn’t know what he’d do without them.

They had to let go of each other, though, when they reached the parlor where they were to meet Prince Eschive. Janus had always disliked Eschive. He reminded him of a weasel. A servant, tall and graceful, with spectacles perched upon his round nose, opened the door for them, and Duke Erex led the way into the room.

The duke and his sons, as well as Patton, sat down in the chairs provided for them when the servant gestured to them. Janus stood against the wall behind Remus and Patton, and the bodyguard stood against the wall on the other side of the door. The servant glanced at Janus’s cane and gave him an apologetic look, presumably for not having a chair for him. Janus shrugged one shoulder and smiled at him.

The tall servant poured them all tea, including Janus and the bodyguard, and even offered them all sugar. Janus always took his tea black, unless it was herbal, then he would add honey.

They waited for a few minutes, sipping their tea before Eschive finally entered the room. The duke, his sons, and Patton stood to greet him, bowing and then shaking hands with him. The prince seemed to revel in the attention and respect.

“I apologize for my lateness,” Eschive said. “I was caught up in another matter.”

Janus noticed the tall servant making a concerned… or worried face at that.

“Of course, Your Highness, we do not mind,” said Duke Erex. He turned and gestured to Patton. “I do not believe you have met my son Remus’s husband, Patton.” His expression dripped with disdain, and Janus’s blood boiled. He saw Remus clench his teeth.

“I have not,” said Eschive.

“A pleasure,” said Patton.

“The pleasure is mine,” said Eschive with a crooked smile. A shiver went down Janus’s spine, and Patton looked like he felt much the same.

They all sat, Eschive across from the duke, and began to discuss as the servant poured Eschive some tea as well.

“Tell me, Achille, the state of your land. How is the crop this year?” Eschive asked.

The duke nodded and began his spiel on how well the crop was coming in, and how the cows were producing well, and the weavers were working hard on the wool he’d imported from Hertland.

Roman interjected occasionally, as he had been put in charge of managing the numbers for the sales of their textiles.

Remus, for once, sat silently.

There was a knock at the door. Eschive looked up, then motioned for the tall servant to open the door. Outside the door stood a beautiful woman and a servant. The woman was of average height, with pale skin and a perfect figure. Her curly hair, which went down to her waist and had two braids in the front tied together at the back of her head, was a striking fiery red. The servant was short and skinny, with perfect, swooping dark hair, and tinted glasses covering his eyes.

Eschive grinned, his eyes almost glazed over. “Duchess Draco! Come, join us.” He stood, so Duke Erex, his sons, and Patton stood as well. The duchess walked over to Eschive, and Eschive took her hand, then leaned down to kiss it. He let go in a way that seemed almost reluctant, then turned to Duke Erex. “Achille, this is Duchess Adalinda Draco. She is visiting from the province of Noerel.” He turned to the duchess. “Adalinda, this is Duke Achille Erex and his sons, Roman and Remus.” He gestured to each man as he spoke. The short servant slipped out.

The duke also took Adalinda’s hand and kissed it. “Wonderful to meet you, Your Grace.”

“Likewise, Your Grace,” said Adalinda. She turned, and her eyes caught Janus’s.

Janus dropped his cup, freezing up. It shattered. On her head were curling black horns. Behind her back, blood-red wings and a matching tail.

He was in the street outside his shop again. The heat and light were so intense. Smoke burned his lungs. A shadow fell over him, and he looked up. A dragon flew overhead, towards the palace, and began to breathe fire to add to the flames. Again, the tower cracked and began to fall toward him.

Then he was back, the cool air of the palace washing over his skin. He leaned heavily on his cane, his legs feeling weak. Patton and Remus hovered by him worriedly, and the servant was knelt by his feet to clean up the glass. Thankfully, the teacup had been empty. “I’m sorry,” he choked out.

Adalinda was looking at him with concern. Roman was looking at him with disdain.

“Let’s go outside,” Patton murmured. “Excuse us, Your Highness,” he said louder.

“Of course,” said Eschive, waving them away.

Patton escorted Janus out of the room, Remus following behind them.

“What happened?” Remus asked worriedly.

“I… just felt faint,” Janus answered. “I’m fine now, really.”

Patton didn’t look convinced, nor did Remus, but he knew Janus well enough to take that as a cue to drop it.

“I have to go back inside,” Remus said. “Are either of you coming?” Janus shook his head. He couldn’t go back in there with that woman.

“I’ll stay with Janus,” Patton said.

“No,” said Janus, shaking his head, “Go keep Remus out of trouble. I just need to gather myself.”

Patton frowned, “But-”

“Go on, keep your husband from saying something regrettable,” Janus repeated.

“Hey!” Remus exclaimed.

“Oh, I’m right and you know it,” Janus replied. “Now go.”

Reluctantly, Remus and Patton went back into the parlor.

Janus sighed and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. He had a headache.

“Pssst,” he heard. “C’mere.”

Janus opened his eyes, looking around in confusion. There, across the hall from him, there was the shorter servant, peeking out from behind a plain wooden door. He raised an eyebrow. The man motioned for him to come closer. He hesitated for only a few moments before carefully standing upright. The cane, like always, echoed.

The servant opened the door for Janus to come in. Inside were both the taller servant and the shorter servant. When he was in, the shorter servant closed the door behind him. He looked around. They were in a little kitchenette that was probably primarily for preparing tea if Janus had to guess.

“So…” Janus said. “What did you want, exactly?”

The taller servant cleared his throat. “My name is Logan. I think we have some things to talk about regarding Duchess Draco.”

“Oh?” Janus asked, carefully keeping the nerves from his voice.

“I’m Remy, by the way,” interjected the shorter servant.

“Janus,” replied Janus politely.

Logan cleared his throat. “How about I recount to you what I’ve seen, then you can return the favor?”

“That sounds agreeable,” Janus answered, eyes sparkling with interest. “You've noticed something odd about her, then.”

Remy gave a small laugh. “You could call it odd, I guess. I’d just call it freaky.”

Logan shot him a glare, then continued, “I’ve definitely noticed something odd. You’ll hear my story, then?”

Janus gestured for him to go ahead.

“I was passing by Duchess Draco’s quarters, and I heard her and Prince Eschive conspiring to… get rid of the king,” Logan said.

Janus’s eyes widened.

“That’s not all,” Remy added.

“Indeed,” Logan agreed. “They kissed, and when they did Duchess Draco’s shadow morphed.”

“She had horns and wings,” Janus guessed.

Logan blinked. “And a tail.”

Janus nodded. “I saw that, too. And more.”

“More?” Logan inquired.

“I had a vision this morning… This sounds insane.”

“You’re the seer whose shop is down the main street, are you not?” Logan asked.

Janus hummed. “I suppose I must confide in you. I… am a fraud. Before this morning, I had never seen the future in my life.”

Remy snorted. Again, Logan glared at him. “That is a very unethical way to make a living.”

Janus took a deep breath. “I’ve done what I needed to do. I have a clear conscience. But that isn’t what this conversation is about. I had a vision this morning. The palace was burning. It felt so real… And…”

“And?” Logan prompted.

“I saw it again, just now. But this time there was a dragon, adding to the flames,” Janus said.

Logan and Remy were silent for a few moments, seeming to communicate with their eye contact. Finally they turned back to Janus.

“The course of action I propose is to keep this to ourselves for now,” Logan said. “Our word against the prince and duchess’s is not worth much.”

Janus nodded in agreement. “We should find more information. I can… speak with some of the mystics and magic shop proprietors. Hopefully one of them will have something useful to say.” He was hesitant. He’d avoided the other professionals in the capital to keep from being exposed as a fraud. This situation called for it, though.

Remy grinned. “We get to spy on the duchess and the prince, then?”

Logan gave a long-suffering sigh. “It’s not spying. It’s gathering information.”

“By watching them,” said Remy. “So, spying?”

Logan groaned.

“Janus?” called Remus’s voice, followed quickly by Patton repeating the call.

“I have to go,” Janus said. “It was nice to meet you both. Stay safe.”

“You as well,” Logan answered.

“Yeah, don’t get yourself killed or anything,” Remy said.

Janus huffed out a small laugh, then went to join his friends.

“Where were you?” asked Patton when Janus emerged from the small room.

Janus gave his most convincing smile. “Just gossiping. The servants always have the most interesting things to say.”

Remus giggled. “You’re always looking for things to use against people, aren’t you?” he said as they followed behind the rest of the group.

Janus gave a scandalized gasp. “I would never! I’m just a harmless busybody.”

Patton laughed a little. “Right. He’s just curious and nosy, Remus,” he said playfully.

“Right. Patton knows I’m telling the truth,” Janus said, barely holding in laughter.

Remus shook his head. “Riiiight. Well, I suppose I just have to believe you, seeing as you’re my best friend.”

“Good,” Janus replied.

About that time, they reached the palace gates. “We’ll see you soon, right, Janus?” Patton asked.

“Of course,” Janus answered. “Feel free to drop by any time.” He smiled. When Patton hugged him, he hugged back. And when Remus punched him in the arm, he punched Remus in the chest. They all laughed.

Patton and Remus followed Duke Erex, and Janus walked back toward his shop with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

The wooden training swords clashed in a way that sent the vibrations all the way up Pryce’s arm, making him wince. His opponent saw an opportunity, and she forced him back until his back collided with the stone wall around the training area. She grinned, and he laughed breathlessly.

“Good match, Val,” he said.

“Wish I could say the same,” Valerie teased, then immediately continued, “and I can. Thanks for the pointers, Pryce.”

“Val!” called a voice from the west viewing platform.

“Virgil!” Valerie called back. She gave Pryce a little wave, then jogged off to her brother.

Pryce watched, then his eyes slowly moved to the right of where the prince and princess were now talking, and he saw the very person he always looked forward to seeing at the end of his practice. His face split into a wide grin, and he waved.

Andy waved back. He looked a bit less self-assured than usual, which worried Pryce. He ran to meet him a little quicker than he usually would, scrambling up the ladder to the platform. “There’s my least favorite sarcastic asshole,” he greeted jokingly.

Andy gave a half-hearted smile and pulled a cookie from the basket he carried. He held it out, and when Pryce reached for it, he snatched it away. “I need help,” he said, the smile falling away. He looked as if he might cry.

Pryce stepped closer and guided him over to a more secluded corner, his blood running cold. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Andy so upset. Annoyed, sure. Grumpy, sure. But never anything like this. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Andy took a deep breath, and it came back out much shakier. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment. He wouldn’t make eye contact when he opened them again. “My father still hasn’t come back,” he said, voice breaking slightly.

“He left three weeks ago, didn’t he?” Pryce asked, his heart breaking at the expression on Andy’s face as he nodded. “I’ll go look for him then, okay? It’ll be okay,” he assured him.

Andy sniffled softly. “By yourself?” He sounded terrified. Pryce had never seen him so vulnerable.

Pryce gave him a reassuring smile. “How about I take Thomas? Sound good?”

Andy nodded again. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright,” he said, opening his arms.

Andy surged forward and buried his face in Pryce’s chest, dropping his basket to the floor. Pryce rubbed his back as he cried silently. Over and over again, he reassured him that it was alright. He wished he knew that were true.

3: The Prince

Virgil’s arms were folded in front of him. “You didn’t show up to our history lessons today,” he accused.

“Ugh, I forgot it was Monday,” Valerie groaned. “I’m so sorry, did you cover for me?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Of course I did, I’m the best brother ever, remember?”

Valerie nodded, smiling. “Ah, yes, how could I forget?”

“That’s right,” Virgil sniffed. “And I deserve compensation.”

She shook her head fondly. “What do you want, Virge?”

Virgil pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “Give this to Logan for me?”

Valerie sighed. “When are you going to tell him you’re his secret admirer.”

“Never. Ever. That would be the most embarrassing and mortifying thing ever. Why would I do that?” Virgil asked, his face starting to turn red.

Valerie patted her little brother’s head. “Because if you don’t, you never get to find out if he feels the same, you never get to properly court him, you never get to marry him… I could go on.”

Virgil glared at her. “How dare you make sense at me?”

She finally took the note and placed it in her own pocket. “I need to go get changed into my dress for dinner. I’ll give it to him as soon as I see him.”

Virgil smiled, just a little. “Thanks, Val.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be a very good sister if I didn’t enable you in your quest to never talk to your crush about how you feel,” Valerie snarked, starting to walk back toward the armory.

“A lot of sass for someone who’s gonna need me to cover for her again in the future,” Virgil responded.

Valerie waved him off and walked away quickly.

Virgil shook his head fondly and headed back for the palace. He slipped in the door at the east end of the palace, near the kitchen. The halls were empty, which he was glad for, given he was technically supposed to be in his room studying.

He turned a corner, and there was Logan, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “What are you doing, Your Highness?” His intonation did not make it sound like a question.

Virgil felt very small with Logan towering over him. “I went to see Valerie.” His intonation made it sound like a question.

“Right. It’s not as if you need to practice your spells, is it?” Again, it did not sound like a question.

“I, um… I’m on my way back to my room now.” Again, it sounded like a question.

“Hm. I suppose that’s acceptable.” Logan cracked a small smile.

Virgil took a deep breath. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you, Virgil,” Logan assured him. “I’d prefer that you stick to your schedule, but I’m not angry.”

Virgil smiled a little, relieved.

“I’ll accompany you back to your room. I have some work to do nearby.”

“Okay. Sounds good,” Virgil said, as casually as he could manage.

“Good,” Logan answered.

“Good.”

The next day, Remus and Patton joined Janus in his garden.

“That one looks like a duck,” Patton said, pointing up at a cloud.

Remus nodded. “A duck who’s up to something,” he added.

“Noooo!” Patton whined. “He’s a nice duck. Very polite. He’s doing some cooking, see?” he said, pointing again.

Janus pointed at Remus. “That one looks like a husband who’s sleeping on the couch tonight,” he joked.

“Only if that’s where we fall asleep after-”

“Remus!” Patton exclaimed, his face cherry-red.

Remus chuckled, reaching up from where he rested with his head on Patton’s lap and booping Patton on the nose, even as Janus made a disgusted face.

“Remus, Father wants you,” Roman’s voice interrupted.

Remus groaned, lifting his head up from Patton’s lap. “What does he need?”

“How should I know?” Roman asked.

Remus rolled his eyes and began to stand up. He licked Patton on the cheek as he did, causing him to break out in giggles and wipe at his cheek with his sleeve. “I’ll see you soon, Darling,” Remus said, getting to his feet fully. “Bye, Jan-ass.”

“Bye, dickhead,” Janus responded as Remus opened the gate of Janus’s back garden to leave.

Roman was about to follow him when Patton called out, “Roman, are you busy?”

Janus shot Patton a glare.

“No, I suppose not,” Roman said, pausing by the gate. “Why?”

“Come join us!” said Patton. “We’re cloud-watching.”

“Oh. Fun,” Roman said, sounding slightly conflicted. His gaze wandered over to Janus, and they both narrowed their eyes.

Janus gave in first, letting out a frustrated sigh. He poured Roman some watered wine into the extra cup he’d brought out with him (Remus had a habit of managing to break the wooden cups, but he always bought a new one when he did, so Janus didn’t mind much). He held out the cup, a peace offering of sorts.

Roman opened the gate and stepped into the garden. His red coat looked out of place in the green of the small fenced-in area.

Patton grinned. “Yay!”

Roman reached for the cup. As his hand closed around it, his fingers brushed Janus’s. Janus found himself dropping yet another cup as he sprung upright. He stood in a grand ballroom, smoke and screams filling the air. Roman stood a few feet away, and, past him, a great shadow in the shape of a dragon with glowing red eyes. It began to move toward Roman, and Janus cried out.

Janus was back in the garden again, breathing heavily. Roman was in front of him, their faces just inches apart. Wine dripped down Janus’s shins, staining his dark pants even darker. “Watch it!” he hissed, unable to think of what else to say or do.

Roman’s stunned expression turned offended. “You’re the one who dropped it!” They were even closer now.

Patton snickered, and Roman and Janus jumped apart like they’d been burned.

“I have to go,” Janus said quickly.

“Janus!” Patton called, but Janus was already out the gate and rushing toward the palace.

Logan set the tray down on the table more loudly than he usually did things, especially in the library. As a result, Virgil jumped.

“Holy shit, Logan! Don’t do that to me!” Virgil exclaimed.

Logan gave him a disapproving look. “You are going to get in trouble with your father one of these days using that sort of language.” He began to take items off the tray and set them near the tomes that Virgil had laid out on the table. “Time for lunch. Take a break.”

Virgil looked at the food, then back to his books again, then rubbed his hand over his face. “Fine. Thanks, Logan.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Virgil opened his mouth to say something, but then the door burst open and footsteps, along with the tapping of a cane, hurried toward them.

“Logan? I need to talk to-“ Janus stopped as he rounded one of the shelves and spotted Virgil. He bowed quickly, wincing at the spasm in his back. He hoped they couldn’t see his expression. “I apologize, Your Highness.”

Virgil huffed. “No need for that. Please.” He paused as Janus righted himself. “Hey, aren’t you—“

“Janus,” Janus interrupted quickly. He realized his mistake quickly, but he decided to double down, clenching his jaw. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s Janus now.”

“Oh!” Virgil said. “Cool.”

“You needed to talk to me, Janus?” Logan asked.

“Yes. It’s urgent.”

Logan looked to Virgil, and Virgil waved him off. He and Janus began to leave, and as they were rounding the shelf, Logan looked back to see that Virgil had gone back to his books, the food untouched. He sighed softly but continued on his way.

He led Janus to an empty sitting room, then closed and locked the door behind him. He turned back to Janus, who had begun to pace nervously. “What do you have?”

Janus bit his lip. “I had another vision.”

Logan stepped closer. “That sounds ominous.”

“Yeah, it’s…” Janus sighed. “You remember Roman Erex, yes?”

Logan wrinkled his nose slightly. “Yes. Yes I do.”

“Well, his brother and brother-in-law are my friends, and we were spending time together in my garden when Roman came to tell Remus to go see their father. Then Patton said that Roman should join us, and I didn’t want him to, but Patton was giving me those puppy-dog eyes, and… I went to hand him a drink, and when our hands touched, I saw… him, fighting a dragon in a grand ballroom. Maybe the one in this palace.” As Janus finished, he felt the tension drain out of him, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.

Logan looked off into space, considering it for a while. “There seems to be no other reasonable conclusion. Roman is the one who must save the kingdom.”

Janus winced again. “That’s exactly what I didn’t want you to say.”

“Well, on my end, I’ve seen Eschive and Adalinda entering and exiting the same rooms furtively around the same time. They are certainly in it together. But, Eschive… He’s different around her,” Logan said.

“I noticed that yesterday,” Janus confirmed.

“What are our next steps?”

“You keep an eye on them. I’m going to spend the rest of the day talking to the other mystics. I was putting it off, but it’s becoming more and more urgent,” Janus said. “And you can clue in Remy, too.”

Logan nodded. “Shouldn’t we talk to Roman?”

Janus clenched his jaw and his free hand. “More information first.”

“Got it. Stay safe, Janus.”

“You too,” Janus said with a strained smile. He exited wordlessly, leaving Logan behind with only a sinking feeling.

When Logan returned to the library, it was to find Virgil having actually eaten a little bit. Not as much as Logan would like, but he would take the small victory.

“Why are you studying so hard?” he asked as he approached. “You hate studying.”

“I found something that interests me,” Virgil replied, leaning away from his books and stretching with a wince. “Healing magic is actually really interesting. Kinda complicated, though.”

“Good. But I would encourage you not to neglect your physical wellbeing, Your Highness,” Logan chided.

Virgil rolled his eyes and took another bite of his food to placate him. “You don’t have to call me that,” Virgil protested with his mouth full. “In fact, I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

Logan stiffened slightly. “I’d prefer to follow the rules, Prince Virgil.”

Huffing, Virgil took another bite, but this time swallowed before speaking again. “So, what’s going on with Janus?”

Logan looked unsure of what to say. “Just some palace business he is helping with.”

Logan, Virgil thought for the millionth time, was a horrible liar. “Right,” he said skeptically.

“If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness, I have some chores to take care of,” Logan said, looking uncomfortable.

“Of course,” Virgil answered defeatedly.

“Will you finish your food?” Logan asked.

Virgil softened. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll eat. You’re good at taking care of me.”

Logan allowed himself a small smile at the praise. “It is my job.”

He turned and left, and Virgil wished he would stay.

4: The Mystic

“ Mirror’s Shop of Curiosities ,” the sign hanging from a post above the door read. Underneath the words was painted a crystal ball with an eye inside. The building was sort of squat, the walls bowed outward, but somehow not suggesting a lack of structural integrity. In fact, the building itself seemed to exude comfort and safety. The walls were a ruddy brown color, the windows dirty with shutters that were likely once a deep blue but now a cracked and faded cerulean. The door was the most well-taken-care-of part of the exterior. It was a deep brown, almost black, leaving passers-by wondering what kind of wood it was.

Janus steeled himself, took a deep breath, and knocked twice before entering. A bell rang above him as he walked in. At first glance, the shopfront was emptier than expected. Scattered potion bottles and dried herbs sat on shelves, along with jars of things that looked suspiciously like pieces of once-living animals. A layer of dust coated almost every surface except for the products themselves, the counter, and the table and crystal ball toward the back of the shop. The table looked a lot like Janus’s own setup back at home.

“Hello?” Janus called.

A head, mostly a mop of gray hair and the lower part of a face (which looked awfully young compared to that color of hair), popped up from behind the counter. “Hello!” the person said in a smooth voice that somehow seemed discordant with their appearance. It was a familiar voice, though Janus wasn’t sure where he had heard it before. “Oh! You’re Janus, right?”

Janus winced. He had hoped not to be recognized at any of these places. “And you must be Mirror?”

“Correct!” Mirror replied, standing up to their full height. They were a little taller than Janus, pale and wearing rather simple clothing. “What can I do for you?”

“I, um… I’ve had a vision that I would like to get a second opinion on,” Janus answered.

“Well, I’d be happy to provide one!” Mirror said. “Go ahead.”

Janus took a deep breath. “I saw… the palace. On fire.”

Mirror’s mouth fell halfway open for a moment, but they regained their composure fairly quickly. They shook their head. “We should discuss this in private.” They hurried around from behind the counter to lock the shop door. Janus noticed that they were barefoot. They rushed back around the counter and gestured for Janus to follow.

Janus walked into the back room and sat when Mirror gestured to a chair. He watched as Mirror began to light candles and close curtains. The back room was full of drying herbs, empty jars and bottles, and potion-making apparatuses. It smelled strongly of rosemary and thyme.

When Mirror was done rushing around, they sat in the only other chair, which faced Janus, and looked at him intently. “Tell me everything.”

As Janus recounted his visions, Mirror looked more and more troubled. When Janus was finished, Mirror began to mumble to themselves, rubbing their temples (which allowed Janus a glimpse of one of their eyes, which was the color of their hair with no pupils or whites. Very unsettling.) and occasionally chewing on their bottom lip.

Mirror finally turned back to him, their eyes hidden by their hair again. “This is very disturbing.”

Janus huffed out a nervous laugh. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Mirror chewed on their lip again for a few moments. “The first two visions seem to be somewhat metaphorical. Disaster at the palace, something to do with a draconic creature.”

Janus nodded. “Okay. But the third?”

“Literal. Roman Erex will have to face off with the Dragon Witch,” Mirror said gravely.

“The Dragon Witch?”

“She seems to have taken on the name Adalinda Draco. The fact that she has already infiltrated the palace is very worrying…” Mirror mused.

“Okay, but who is she? What do you know about her?” Janus asked.

“Not much, I’m afraid. I know only that she has a reputation for destruction, and that they say she can influence people,” Mirror informed him. “You should keep asking around to find out more. I fear that Roman may be our only hope, and that he needs your help.”

“ My help?” Janus asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Mirror answered. “You’re the one who had the vision for a reason.” They paused, then stood and began to rummage around in the deep drawers of their workbench. They pulled out a rectangle-shaped parcel triumphantly, then turned to hand it to Janus. “Keep track of all of your visions, gut feelings, and even just notable thoughts in here. It will help.”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “How will journaling help?”

Mirror smirked. “It’s the journal more than the journaling. It’ll help you piece things together, trust me.”

“Right,” Janus said, pushing himself up. “Well, thank you.”

He was almost out the door when Mirror called, “Remember to keep your mirror nearby!”

Janus turned quickly to ask Mirror what they meant, but there was no sign of them. His stomach roiling with dread, Janus left the shop.

Janus knocked at the door hesitantly. He hated coming to visit Remus. Not because of Remus or Patton, but most of the others in the house. Roman and the duke shared a strong distaste for him, though for different reasons, as did most of the servants. Duchess Erex, though, was different. Carine Erex was really the only positive maternal figure Janus had ever had. And he was relieved beyond belief that she was the one to open the door.

“Hello, Your Grace,” Janus greeted with a smile.

Carine scoffed. “I’ve told you many times, dear one, you may call me Carine.” Her hair was up in a practical bun, and she wore a riding outfit. She must have been about to go out. He wondered how Duke Erex felt about her wearing pants instead of a skirt.

Janus grinned. “Your husband might murder me if I tried.”

Carine’s expression turned sour. “Yes, I suppose so.” She shook her head and smiled again. “Are you here to see Remus?”

“And Patton, if they’re both home,” Janus responded.

“I believe they’re in the greenhouse. Patton wanted to do some gardening today,” Carine said. “Go ahead, dear. And tell anyone I invited you in if they ask.”

Janus let out a small sigh of relief. “Thank you, Carine,” he said.

She winked. “Don’t mention it.”

They traded places, Janus going into the house as she went out, and she closed the door between them. The greenhouse, which was attached to the house, was not far from the front door, thankfully. Janus arrived there without seeing another person.

Patton was wearing his gardening outfit, the too-big shirt and patched pants reminding Janus of a child gardening with their mother. The whole ensemble was muddy, from wide-brimmed hat to gigantic boots.

Remus lounged nearby, sideways and upside down on a fainting couch with his torso and head hanging off. Janus wondered if the blood was rushing to his head. His tie, jacket, and waistcoat were discarded and his shirt unbuttoned. He held a book in front of his face, probably another horror novel.

Janus cleared his throat, and two sets of eyes turned to him before Patton let out an ear-piercing squeal.

“Janus!” he cried. “There you are! We were worried!”

Janus grimaced. “Yeah. Something came up.” He looked down at his wine-stained pants and realized he’d been in the presence of the prince like this. He wanted to hit himself. Then his eyes fell on Remus again. Remus’s expression was tired, angry, and sorrowful. He looked absolutely miserable.

Janus walked over and perched himself on the arm of the couch. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly.

Remus shook his head. “Not right now.”

Janus gave a half-smile. “Okay. Then we’ll talk about something else.”

Patton brushed himself off as well as he could with muddy gloves on, then took the gloves off. “What do you want to talk about, Janus?” he asked softly.

Janus took a deep breath. “I have something fairly serious I wish to discuss, actually. I need you both to listen with an open mind.”

Remus quickly swung himself upright, his impeccable balance unnerving as always. “What’s up, Janny?” His eyes still looked sad despite the rest of his face having taken on an expression of curiosity.

Janus looked away. “I had a vision. A few, actually.”

Silence fell over them for a few moments. Patton was the first to break it. “I thought you didn’t really have those.” He sounded scared, his voice small.

“Yeah,” Janus said. “It’s a new development.”

“Okay…” Remus began. “What kind of visions?”

Janus took a deep breath and recounted not only his visions but everything he’d learned at the palace and Mirror’s Shop of Curiosities. He didn’t look at them until he was finished. When he finally did look, Remus looked… Dismayed? Angry? Shocked? No, certainly not, because now he just looked worried, like Patton.

“Well,” said Patton. He didn’t seem to know what to say after that. He was trying to look brave, Janus noted. He didn’t want Patton to be afraid of him.

Remus apparently did know what to say. “This is bullshit. But! I think I speak for both of us when I say that we’ll do whatever we can to help.”

Patton nodded quickly. “Tell us what you need, Kiddo. I could talk to Roman for you…”

Janus shook his head. “First of all, I am two months younger than you.”

“Baby,” Patton said, nodding decisively.

Janus scowled. “Secondly, I’m going to keep Roman in the dark as long as possible. I don’t think he’ll believe me without more information.”

“We can do that, then,” Remus offered. “I’m good at that.”

“You are,” Janus agreed. “I think that would actually be pretty helpful.”

“You should go check in with Lo again,” Patton suggested. “He needs to know what you learned from Mirror.”

Janus nodded. “That’s good, yes, I can do that.”

Patton tilted his head. “Take a breath, Kiddo.”

“ Two. Months ,” Janus hissed before following Patton’s instructions.

“You got this,” Patton encouraged. “How’s your leg?”

Janus frowned. “Fine. I can rest later, I know that’s what you were going to say.”

Patton frowned back. “You’d better rest later, Mister.”

“Two months,” Janus repeated. “And you’re not my fa-” He paused. “I’m going to go to the palace. Thank you for your help.” He walked out as quickly as he could, trying to get his heart rate under control.

5: The Worshipper

Janus crouched at the top of the stairs, listening. Listening to his parents argue. About him. His mother was of the opinion that they could, “make [him] better,” while his father just wanted to, “get rid of [him].” Janus didn’t want to know what that meant.

He was about to go to his room and get ready to leave, for good, when his father called that name. The name that wasn’t his. It didn’t belong to him. Nonetheless, he was expected to respond to it.

He straightened, brushed his jacket off, smoothed his short hair down, and began to walk down the stairs. “Father, that isn’t my name,” he said stubbornly.

His father’s face was turning purple. “Yes, it is,” he ground out. He pulled a chair up next to the fire—far too close—and said, “Sit.”

Janus did.

His father was pacing as his mother knelt in front of him. His mother pleaded, “We know this isn’t you. Tell me what’s wrong, what has happened. How do we make you want to be our little girl again?”

Janus frowned. “I’ve told you, Mother,” he said softly, “you can’t. I’m not your little girl.”

“Ridiculous!” his father roared. “You stubborn little brat! Just tell us what you want so this can go back to normal!”

“This is normal! This is who I am!” Janus yelled back.

Janus’s father pushed his mother out of the way and grabbed Janus by his collar, pulling him up.

The rest was a blur. Janus remembered being beaten and thrown around, but only vaguely. What was vivid was the left side of his face being pressed to the grate in front of the fire, then slammed against it again and again. He could never forget the feeling of his flesh searing against hot metal.

That was the day Janus was estranged from the Marquis and Marquess de Allerie.

The streets were crowded. It slowed Janus’s progress in getting to the palace, but it provided the noise he needed to overrule his racing thoughts. It only left room for one thing. He had to get to the palace and talk to Logan and Remy.

He was lucky in that walking around the streets with a cane meant the people that noticed tried not to bump into him. Unfortunately, someone didn’t notice him.

Janus nearly went tumbling to the ground, barely managing to steady himself. The person who ran into him, though, did fall to the ground. Janus went to help him up. He recognized him vaguely, someone he saw frequently in visiting the palace when he was younger. The baker’s son, he realized. Avery? Alfred? Allen? Something like that.

The man pushed Janus’s hand away and stood on his own. As their hands touched, Janus froze.

He stood in the forest. The air was cool and crisp and smelled like iron, and there was only the moonlight to illuminate the gruesome sight before him. The palace baker lay prone in the dirt, his horse lying nearby and his cart overturned. A pool of dark liquid spread around him, wetting the dirt.

“Are you okay?” asked the baker’s son, and Janus returned abruptly to the busy street.

“Yeah, I’m fine, bu-” Janus began.

“Good,” said the man, and he rushed away before Janus could ask or tell him anything.

Janus swallowed heavily, watching after him. He could still taste the iron smell. Then he turned and continued on his way to the palace.

Thomas felt the damp seeping through the seat of his pants as he sat on the log, but he didn’t particularly care. It was cold, sure, but he was more focused on his conversation.

“I dunno, Emi, it’s like he just wants to play with me. Like it’s some kind of game,” he said.

The child sitting in front of him was drawing lines in the dirt, but he looked up to answer. “Maybe that’s his way of showing he likes you. Like when Kyle used to push you over.”

Thomas winced at the memory. “Yeah. Maybe.” He didn’t sound convinced.

Emile sighed. “I think he likes you, Tommy. He even made you that sketch of you. The one you hung up on your wall.”

Thomas smiled. “I know the one. It’s so pretty.”

Emile nodded decisively. “There you go. He likes you.”

“But what if it’s just as friends?” Thomas asked.

Emile shrugged. “You know I always say you should talk about it instead of overthinking.”

Thomas shook his head fondly. “Maybe you’re right, Emi. As always.”

Emile grinned. “Why, thank you!”

“Thomas!” Pryce’s voice called. It sounded like something rather urgent needed his attention. When Thomas looked back to where Emile had been, he was gone. Thomas sighed and stood before jogging in the direction of Pryce’s voice.

Upon reaching the clearing just off the road, Thomas froze. Andy’s father lay in the dirt, dried blood caking the dirt around him. His throat had been slit, and he was so, so pale. Thomas looked to Pryce who knelt next to a pool of vomit. It looked like he was having trouble breathing.

Thomas went and knelt next to him, in between him and the upsetting scene. “Can I touch you?”

Pryce nodded. Thomas placed a hand on Pryce’s back and rubbed it.

“We’ll do everything we can,” Thomas assured him softly. “We’ll take him back for a proper burial and do whatever Andy needs. I know it’s terrifying, and that it hurts, so badly right now. It hurts more than anything. But it will be okay, eventually.”

Pryce nodded again. “Okay.” He paused. “He was like a father to me.”

“I know,” Thomas said softly. “You go back to camp, and I’ll carry him back there. Ready the horses and put out the fire. Can you do that?”

Pryce nodded yet again. Thomas helped him to stand, then he turned and walked back towards their camp.

Thomas sighed and turned back to the baker. He crouched next to him and offered a small prayer to the Death Goddess, then hefted the body into his arms.

Thomas screamed as he fell to his knees in the remnants of his home. The scorched bodies of his fathers were contorted in fear, and he wanted to scrub the sight from his eyes.

His brother lay in a makeshift grave in the forest. Thomas had built it from stones and mud. He hoped it was enough for Emile to rest peacefully.

“ Thomas,” said a small voice.

Thomas looked up. Emile stood over him and offered him a hand, pulling Thomas to his feet when he took it.

“ Emile?” Thomas asked, dumbfounded.

“ Yeah. The Death Goddess and the Magic Goddess took me in. I’m sort of a god now? Or, I will be,” Emile said. “It’s hard to explain.”

“ Oh,” Thomas said softly.

“ You have to get up,” Emile told him. “You have to walk to the nearest town and ask for help. Please, Thomas. You have to live.”

Thomas had never been able to say no to that face.

Patton grabbed Remus’s hand as they entered the shop. A bell attached to the door rang out. There was a bored-looking teenager at the counter, leaning their elbows on the counter with their chin in their hands. They had bright red hair that fell over one eye in the front and ended at their neck in the back. Their clothes were largely black and red, very expensive colors to dye fabric in, though the clothes themselves looked fairly plain.

Remus squeezed Patton’s hand. Patton had always been uncomfortable around anything to do with magic.

“Hey there, Kiddo!” he greeted the teenager nonetheless.

They finally looked up, having been unfazed by the bell. “Hi, welcome to Pierre’s Powerful Particulars, home of many useful magical items. How may I help you today?” they droned.

“We want to trade for information,” Remus said. “Are you the proprietor of this shop?”

The teenager huffed out a small breath. “Hell no. I’ll go get Pierre.”

“Thank you very much,” Patton said with a friendly smile. He was sure he looked nervous.

The teenager waved their hand and disappeared into the back of the shop.

Patton cast his eyes around nervously. Remus squeezed his hand again. Patton smiled at him.

A tall man, probably in his late twenties, walked out of the back of the shop. He looked tired. He clearly hadn’t shaved in a while, but not long enough to grow much of a beard. His long blond hair was pulled back into a bun at the nape of his neck. His dark eyes looked glazed over.

Poor guy must be really tired , Patton thought.

“Pierre, at your service,” the man said.

“We need some information,” Remus said. “We are prepared to pay handsomely.”

The man smiled. Something about it unsettled Patton. “Well, I hope I can provide what you need.”

“What do you know about the Dragon Witch?” Remus asked. Patton decided he also didn’t like that Remus had gone into all-business mode.

“Oh,” Pierre said, “I can tell you about her.”

6: The Nanny

By the time Janus got back to the palace, he was in a very sour mood. From the crowds, the exchange with Patton that almost ended in him saying something regrettable, the vision from Andy, and the pain in his back and leg. Nonetheless, he continued to walk, making his way into the palace and beginning the search for Logan.

It didn’t take long to find him, returning some clean blankets to one of the linen closets.

Janus cleared his throat. “We need to talk,” he said when Logan turned his head to look at him.

“Come in,” Logan said.

Janus walked into the linen closet and closed the door behind him. It wasn’t as cramped as it seemed when looking into it from outside. He took a deep breath. “I have troubling news. I’ve talked with the proprietor of one of the shops, and it seems we’re dealing with someone called the Dragon Witch, who has taken the name Adalinda Draco and gotten herself a noble title.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “That sounds unpleasant.”

Janus nodded. “Her powers supposedly include mind control. And Roman must defeat her. Apparently my having the vision means I’m supposed to help.”

Logan began to pace in the small space. “What do we do, then?”

“Remus and Patton have been filled in, and they’re looking into that now,” Janus replied.

Logan nodded. “As soon as they find that information, we should take action. Time is certainly of the essence.”

“Definitely. I just have to convince Roman when the information becomes available to us,” Janus said, his tone and expression both defeated and nervous.

“I have to talk to Remy,” Logan said as he opened the closet. “But first, let me walk you to the gate. You look exhausted.” They began to walk together.

Janus grimaced. “I’m that obvious, huh?”

Logan pressed his lips into a tight line and let the silence hang for a moment. Then he said, “There’s nothing wrong with needing to rest. Taking care of yourself is important.”

Janus laughed sharply. “I give that advice all the time. I suppose I haven’t applied it to myself.”

Logan hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe you should give that a try.”

“Thanks, Logan.”

Logan nodded.

As they rounded a corner, they passed Virgil. He gave a little wave. “Hi, Janus. Hi, Lo.”

Virgil rounded the corner, and Logan turned his head slightly, looking wistfully at where Virgil had been.

“You should talk to him,” Janus said after looking around to make sure no one was nearby.

Logan bristled. “I talk to him all the time.”

Janus scoffed. “About feelings, Logan.”

Logan shook his head. “There’s nothing to do about it. He’s… out of my reach.”

Sighing, Janus looked away. “Just a little advice.”

They reached the door to the palace, and they walked down the path to the gate in silence.

“Get home safe,” Logan said.

“I’ll certainly try,” replied Janus.

They both turned and began to walk in opposite directions. The streets were less crowded now, and Janus made it home in far less time than it would have taken earlier. He thought about Logan’s advice to take a rest, and Patton’s demand that he rest. He put out his “Open” sign and went to clean up a little. He’d do some readings and then rest. Putting it off surely wouldn’t hurt… too badly.

Janus was in the middle of listening to a customer’s question about their future when he heard a knock on the door. Specifically, Remus’s knock pattern. He paused, then interrupted the customer, “I need to check on this, I’ll be right back.”

When he opened the door, Remus was there, looking worried and somewhat upset. Patton stood slightly behind him with the same expression on his face. “What’s wrong?” Janus asked.

“Um, we have something kind of important to tell you,” Patton said, then began to chew on his lip. He paused for a moment, then wrinkled his brow. “You’re not resting.”

Janus cast a glance over his shoulder. “Can it wait a little? I’m with a customer.”

“I guess,” said Remus. But Janus had never seen him so on-edge.

Sighing, Janus gestured for them to come in. “You guys go to my room, I’ll be right there.”

They both walked past the customer and into the back room.

Janus walked over to the customer. “I’m very sorry, but something has come up. If you’ll come back later, I’ll do your reading for half price.”

They looked a little miffed, but the customer did leave. Janus sighed and went to join Remus and Patton. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned.

Patton and Remus looked at each other.

“The Dragon Witch,” said Patton. “She’s a real nasty character.”

“What do you mean?” Janus asked, his heart jumping in his chest.

Remus tried to perk up, but it didn’t quite work. “Well, it’s mostly just rumors, but, supposedly, she started the war in Louria, killed the prince of Hertland, and has razed quite a few villages.”

Janus’s eyes gradually widened. “That’s… not good.”

Patton quickly added, “But we think there’s a way to defeat her. We were told that the source of her power is an enchanted mirror.”

“So we destroy that,” Janus said.

“It’s not that simple,” Remus replied. “The mirror is hidden away in a cave in the Droiler Mountains. She connects with it through other mirrors.”

Janus hissed out a sigh. “Well… Do we know where the cave is exactly?”

Patton nodded and pulled out a map from his messenger bag.

Janus hummed. “That’s about a three days’ walk, six round trip,” he said. “And… Unfortunately, according to my visions, Roman has to come with me. You two can stay here if you like, though.”

Remus and Patton locked eyes again. Patton nodded.

“Fuck that, let’s go on a quest!” Remus said. “Besides, you may need help kidnapping my brother.”

Janus sighed.

For the third time that day, Janus walked to the palace, this time with companions. The sun was moving lower and lower in the sky. He was distracted, trying to come up with what to say to Roman. Patton flitted around him worriedly as they walked. He kept asking if Janus was alright, if he needed to stop. He said that they could go tomorrow, that Janus needed rest. Janus just hummed and mumbled basic responses. “I’m fines,” and “It’s okays.”

Janus felt like it took very little time to arrive at the palace. Nonetheless, he brought himself back to the present just as Remus told the guards that they had business with Logan. It was a good excuse to be there so late, and it was true as well. The guards let them in.

Janus let Remus take the lead on asking around about where Logan was. Eventually, they caught up with him. “Logan,” Janus called.

Logan turned to see them, and he quickly bowed his head to Remus. “I assume you have something to talk about?”

Janus nodded. “I’ll let Remus explain… I need to talk to Roman. I walked here to stall,” he admitted.

Patton furrowed his brow. “Janus, your leg…”

Janus set his jaw. “I’m fine , Patton. You three discuss what needs to be done. It’ll help when I drag Roman back here.”

Logan sighed, and Remus gave him a concerned look as well. “I’ll be okay, I promise,” Janus said. He turned abruptly and left before he could be lectured on the importance of taking breaks.

When he finally got back to Duke Erex’s estate, it was dark, and he was limping pretty heavily. One of the servants opened the door. Thankfully, it was Grey, who was sympathetic to Janus. “Young Master Remus isn’t here, Janus,” they said.

“I know,” Janus answered. “I’m here to see Roman.”

Grey raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “He’s in the study. The Duke isn’t there, don’t worry.”

Smiling in relief, Janus stepped inside when Grey gave him space to. “Thank you, Grey.” He walked away quickly, trying to avoid anyone else. Another servant brushed past him in the hall outside the study, knocking into the arm holding his cane and nearly kicking the cane out from under him. Janus nearly fell. He righted himself and took a deep breath before knocking on the study door.

“Come in!” Roman’s voice called. Janus did his best not to hobble as he entered. He closed the door behind him.

Roman looked up, then his eyes widened in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Janus took another breath. “I have something to talk to you about.”

Roman furrowed his brow, but then gestured for Janus to continue.

Janus told his story in great detail, trying to make sure Roman would believe him. To his surprise, Roman listened quietly.

When Janus was finished, Roman stood from behind the desk, then walked toward Janus. Janus straightened as much as he could, but Roman still towered over him. He swallowed with difficulty.

“You really think I would believe all that? That I’m so gullible I’d just listen to you?” Roman asked.

“Roman, it’s true,” Janus said as earnestly as he could, fighting against the annoyance that wanted to creep into his voice.

Roman grit his teeth. “I can’t believe you! Why do you want to make a fool of me?”

Janus shrank back a little. “I know I wasn’t always nice to you when we were growing up, but this isn’t about you and me! This is more important than us!”

“Why do you always feel the need to antagonize me?!”

“Oh, please! You do the same!”

“You little-”

The door swung open. In swept Galena, Roman and Remus’s nanny, carrying a basket of clean dishes. She took in the scene before her. “Hm. What are you two fighting about now?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Roman frowned, almost a pout, like a child who knew they were about to be in trouble. “He’s trying to convince me that I need to go off with him to save the kingdom.”

“It’s true!” Janus insisted. “I saw you fighting the Dragon Witch! I saw it, Roman!”

Roman turned back to him. “You’re really doubling down?”

Galena raised a hand, then pinched her fingers together. “Quiet.” She stepped closer to the two of them, taking in Janus’s expression. “Roman, he’s clearly telling the truth.”

“What?!” Roman asked.

“Look at his eyes,” Galena requested.

Roman peered into Janus’s face, and Janus clenched his free hand into a fist at his side, his knuckles going white as he tried not to flush from having the attention on him. Whatever Roman saw with his deep green eyes seemed to surprise him. He stepped back. “What do we do now?” he asked Janus.

Janus breathed a sigh of relief. “We go to see Remus and Patton at the palace. They’re discussing it with a servant who knows about it. They’ll have an idea of what our next steps should be.”

Roman nodded, surprisingly agreeable. “Great. Let me finish on this last report, then we’ll go.”

7: The Baker

Logan led Patton and Remus toward the scullery, where Remy was supposed to be helping out that day. “So, Patton,” Logan said, “It’s been a while since we got to talk.” His voice felt stilted and awkward.

Patton nodded, giving him a smile, even though he didn’t turn to see it. “Yeah. I’ve missed you and Prince Virgil.”

Remus tilted his head. “You should visit them sometimes, Pat.”

Patton’s smile fell. “I guess, but right now we have serious things to talk about.”

“Indeed,” Logan agreed. He opened the door to the scullery and held up a finger in a gesture for Patton and Remus to stay in the corridor. He returned shortly with Remy at his side.

“Hello,” Patton said with another smile. “I’m Patton, nice to meet you.”

“Remy, at your service,” Remy answered.

Remus waved a hand. “Remus, it’s a pleasure.”

Logan cleared his throat. “Let’s go somewhere less… open.”

Patton’s eyes widened. “Right! Lead the way!”

Remy grabbed Logan’s arm, much to Logan’s apparent annoyance, and began to walk. A short walk later, they found themselves in the servants’ quarters. Remy opened a door and gestured for the rest to go inside, then followed when they did. He checked no one was around and closed the door. “You have information?” he asked when he turned to face them, lowering his tinted glasses slightly, an excited look in his eyes.

“Yes!” Patton said. “It’s… There’s this mirror we have to go destroy to take away the Dragon Witch’s powers, but it’s in a cave in the mountains, and it’s going to be a long journey, and Remus and I are going with Janus and Roman to do that,” he said far too quickly.

Logan and Remy seemed to catch all of it, though. Remy hummed. “Well, I have to go with you guys. I’m not missing this.”

Logan hummed. “I suppose I should stay here, then.”

“I want to go too,” a voice said from the doorway.

They all jumped and turned to face the door, where Prince Virgil stood leaned against the door frame.

There was silence for a few moments, then Logan frowned. “No.”

“No?” Virgil asked, frowning back.

“It’s too dangerous, Your Highness,” Logan answered.

“I’m a grown adult,” Virgil shot back.

“A grown adult who’s never been in any real danger. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Logan said, sounding slightly agitated.

“And you’re just overprotective! I’m a healer! I can help!” Virgil cried.

“Prince Virgil-”

“Actually,” Remus interrupted, “a healer might be helpful.”

Logan shot him a glare.

“See?” Virgil said. “They want me to come!”

“Kiddo, Lo’s right. It’s really dangerous,” Patton said.

“Virgil,” Logan said, successfully catching Virgil’s attention. “I just want you to be safe.”

Virgil tilted his head. “I will be, Logan.”

Logan sighed softly. “Then I’m coming too. The other servants can fend for themselves for a while.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow and flushed slightly, then a triumphant smile split his face. “Cool.”

“Won’t people look for you?” Patton asked.

“Hm,” Virgil paused for a moment, “I think I have an idea.”

“Where are we going?” Patton asked as he, Logan, and Remus followed Virgil down the road.

Virgil was focusing very hard on not tripping over the boots he’d borrowed from Logan, which were about two sizes too large. “Mh,” he hummed, “you’ll see.” He pulled the hood of his cloak down further. He was clearly trying not to be recognized. Patton wasn’t sure if Logan tagging along would help with that.

They finally slowed outside a bakery. The bakery that served the palace more often than not. Virgil opened the door, and the group made their way inside.

The baker’s son–Andy, Patton’s brain supplied–popped up from behind the counter, surveying them with a raised eyebrow. “How may I help you?”

Virgil looked around, then lowered his hood. “I need a favor.”

Andy rushed to bow, but Virgil quickly waved for him to straighten up.

“It’s fine, um…” Virgil cleared his throat. “I have somewhere I need to go, but no one can know I’m gone. You look so much like me…”

“Ooooh, no,” Andy said. “Nope. I can’t. That’s not going to work.”

“Andy, please,” Virgil said. He looked around furtively again. “It’s very important. The Dragon Witch has infiltrated the castle, and I need to go destroy her power at its source. We need your help.”

Andy’s shoulders fell. “The Dragon Witch? I… Who’s going to run the bakery?”

“I think I know a couple people who owe me a favor,” Patton said. “I’m sure I’ll find someone.”

A small sigh escaped Andy’s lips. “You’re sure about this?”

Virgil nodded. “It’ll be absolutely fine. Just lay low, and I’ll be back before you know it. A week, tops.”

Andy nodded. “Okay. Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” Virgil said. “You're doing the kingdom a great service.”

With a sigh, Andy walked around from behind the counter. “I’m glad to help, I guess.”

Patton held up a lock of Andy’s hair and carefully took the scissors to it. “You know, Logan, I don’t think anyone would have noticed that Andy’s hair is longer than Virgil’s. It’s not that much longer.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Logan said with the smug tone of someone who had just gotten their way.

Patton brushed the hair off of Andy’s shoulders. “Look in the mirror and tell me what ya think,” he instructed Andy, who did as told.

Virgil approached to look Andy over. “...Well, this is uncanny.”

Andy turned to look back at Virgil. “Tell me about it.”

“Makeup time!” Remus announced with perhaps a bit too much excitement.

Andy sighed. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to apply it myself after you leave…”

“We’ll keep it simple,” Virgil promised. “Come on.”

Andy followed Virgil to the vanity table and sat facing the mirror. “And what do I do if someone notices I’m not you?” he asked.

“No one will notice,” Logan assured him, “because you will lay low and pretend to be ill. Ask not to be bothered, and no one will bother you.”

Andy took a deep breath, grimacing slightly as Remus and Virgil simultaneously began to apply makeup to his face.

“Eyes open,” Virgil instructed. “You need to see what we’re doing.”

Patton leaned against the wall, watching as Remus and Virgil lectured Andy on what to do with the makeup, Virgil very seriously and Remus with the occasional off-color remark.

Remy emerged from the walk-in closet with an armful of clothes and began laying them out on the bed.

There was a knock at the door.

“Got it,” Patton said, pushing himself away from the wall.

When he opened the door, there stood Pryce and Thomas. “Oh,” said Pryce, “hello, Patton. Do you happen to know where Andy is? Or Logan, he might know.”

“Ah, um…” Patton began.

Pryce looked past Patton, and his facial expression fell when he spotted Andy. He raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Why is he here?” He took in more of the scene. “What’s going on?”

“Pryce?” Andy asked.

Logan and Patton locked eyes. It took less than a second for them to come to an agreement.

Patton stepped aside for Pryce and Thomas to enter. “Hi, Thomas,” he said

“Hi, Patton,” Thomas answered with a tense smile.

Logan walked over to them as Patton closed the door. “Andy is doing us a huge favor. Prince Virgil has somewhere he needs to go without anyone knowing he’s leaving.” He looked over at Andy. “I think it’s safe to say you’re nervous? Will having Pryce around to help you ease your mind?”

“Yeah,” Andy said. “That would help.”

Pryce still looked somewhat confused, but he nodded at Andy’s answer. “I’ll help however I can. But…” He shifted his gaze to Andy. “Andy, I need to talk to you for a moment.”

Virgil and Remus moved away from Andy so that he could get up.

“What is it?” Andy asked, tone full of trepidation.

Pryce jerked his head toward the closet. “I think it would be best to have this conversation in private.”

Andy looked back at Virgil, and Virgil waved for them to go. He followed Pryce, clenching and unclenching his fist at his side.

The door closed heavily when Andy pushed it. It left Pryce and him in complete silence. “What is it?” he asked carefully.

“We, ah… Your dad,” Pryce said. “We think he was attacked by bandits. It was far too late by the time we got there.” Pryce’s voice was breaking, but he made it through giving Andy the news.

Andy shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. “No…”

“Andy, I’m sorry,” Pryce said. “I’m so sorry.”

Andy choked back a sob, placing his hand over his mouth. “No,” he repeated. He was unsuccessful in holding back his next sob. The dam broke, and he couldn’t stop himself from crying out in distress as the sobs overwhelmed him.

Pryce opened his arms, and Andy dove into them again, clinging to him with all his might. He shook like a leaf as he cried into Pryce’s shoulder. Pryce rubbed his back, muttering empty words that meant nothing to either of them.

8: The Childhood Friends

By the time Janus and Roman arrived, Andy had calmed down a fair bit. Remus was showing him the different makeups and brushes, and Logan was filling in Thomas and Pryce on the situation, as well as clarifying some things for Andy. Remy had just returned from making preparations for his and Logan’s absence, and Patton and Virgil were packing Virgil’s things.

Roman looked around at the activity of the room. “How many people know about this?” he asked.

“Only the people in this room,” Logan answered. Janus nodded in confirmation.

Roman counted quickly. “I feel like this is too many people.”

“We’ll need as much help as possible, won’t we?” Janus pointed out.

“I… suppose so,” Roman said.

Janus sat down in the nearest chair, trying not to look too tired. “So, to recap,” he said, “Duchess Adalinda Draco is really the Dragon Witch, and she’s conspiring with Prince Eschive to kill the King. Her power comes from a mirror that she keeps in a cave in the Droiler Mountain Range. We need to destroy it. Virgil is coming, so Andy is taking his place and pretending to be him until we return. The journey should be six days, round trip. Three days to the cave, three days back. Everyone clear?”

There was a general murmur of consensus that rumbled through the room.

Janus looked up at Roman. “From now on, I suppose I’ll defer to you.”

Roman looked around the room again. “Do we know exactly where we’re going?”

“I’ve got a map,” Remus answered without looking up from the makeup laid out on the vanity table. “Ooh, this one would be perfect for hiding that scar.”

“Remus, focus,” Roman groaned.

“I am! This is important, too, you know,” Remus chided. “I got the guy at the magic shop Patton and I visited to show me where on the map the cave should be.”

Roman nodded briskly. “And who is going on the journey?”

“You and me,” Janus answered.

“And myself,” Logan said.

“Patton and me too,” added Remus.

“And me,” said Remy.

“And me,” echoed Virgil.

“I’ll go too,” Thomas chimed in.

Roman nodded. “That makes eight.”

“We should leave as soon as possible,” Janus reminded them.

Again, Roman nodded. “We’ll meet just after midnight tonight. Everyone needs to pack for the journey. We can meet outside the north gate of the capital, in the treeline so the guards don’t see us and bother us.”

Logan frowned. “Are you sure we shouldn’t plan more?”

“Do you think we have time?” Roman shot back.

Logan pursed his lips. “I suppose not.”

“Get ready,” Roman said. “We leave tonight.”

Andy sat staring at himself in the mirror. Everyone else had left the room, many of them to their own homes to pack, Pryce with Thomas to the temple, and Virgil to his closet for the moment. His face didn’t look quite like him. Definitely more like the prince than himself. He touched his cheek lightly over his now-invisible scar and looked down at his hand. Only the faintest hint of powder dusted his fingertips.

Virgil reentered the room with an armful of traveling clothes and an empty knapsack hanging from the other hand. He set it all down on the bed and looked to where Andy was still sitting next to the vanity.

Andy looked up only when Virgil sat down in a chair he pulled up next to him, then bowed his head slightly. “Your Highness.”

Virgil coughed and cast his gaze to the side. “You don’t need to… Um, you really don’t have to tell me, but I was wondering if you’d like to talk about whatever Pryce said to make you so upset…”

Andy sniffed, blinking at the stinging in his eyes. “My father went on a trip for some seasonal ingredients. When he didn’t return, I got Pryce and Thomas to go look for him. He was attacked.” His words were stilted, ground out past the lump in his throat. He grit his teeth and clenched his fist.

A look of understanding spread across Virgil’s face, and his shoulders fell. “My condolences,” he said. “You probably don’t want to hear any platitudes right now. But I can sit with you for a while, if you like.”

Andy shook his head. “You need to pack. I’ll be okay.” He sniffed again.

Virgil sighed. “We haven’t been that close in a long time, but you’re still my friend, Andy. I want to help.” He smiled a little. “Besides, we both know that Logan will be packed in no time and back to either help or nag me. I can at least sit right here until he gets back.”

Andy managed a tense smile. “Thanks, Virge.”

Virgil grinned and ruffled Andy’s newly-cut hair. “Least I can do for a childhood friend.”

He hesitated for a moment before holding his arm out. Andy leaned into him, and he wrapped that arm around him.

“I wish I could do more,” Virgil murmured. “I wish I could stay.”

“They need a mage,” Andy said, muffled by Virgil’s shoulder. “They’ll probably get themselves killed without you.”

Virgil huffed out a small laugh. “Knowing Duke Erex’s sons, that might not be an exaggeration.”

They fell quiet, the tension of Virgil’s nerves and Andy’s sadness hanging in the air. The silence remained until Logan arrived to scold Virgil for not having packed yet, which sent the two into a fit of laughter.

9: The Mage

Janus stood against a tree, waiting for the others to arrive. The moon was high overhead, waxing, and it bathed the forest canopy in silvery light that soaked through the leaves to dapple the ground beneath. His eyes focused in on movement off to his left, and he tensed, reaching for the dagger he’d strapped to his belt.

“Calm down, it’s me,” someone grumbled, and Janus relaxed when he recognized the voice.

“I expected you to get here first, or maybe Logan,” Janus commented as Roman came to stand a few feet away from him.

Roman yawned and grumbled.

“Not a morning person, huh?” Janus asked with an amused smile.

“Shut up. It’s not even morning yet,” Roman snapped.

Janus held his hands up and stifled a small laugh. “Cut your nap short to get your hair perfect, did you?”

Roman glared at him, and he had to stifle another laugh. A surprisingly comfortable silence fell.

Virgil and Logan arrived next, Remy trailing behind them.

Thomas came next, then Remus and Patton.

At this point, Roman had recovered his attitude and superior airs, and he was questioning everyone on whether or not they had packed everything they might need. Logan quickly joined, and the rest realized that those two in combination might be an actual living nightmare.

“Hey, Dipshit,” Remus said finally, reaching into his bag. He produced a rolled-up map and held it out toward Roman.

Roman reached for it, then hesitated.

Remus jabbed the paper toward his brother. “You’re our intrepid leader.”

Roman took the map.

Remus grinned. “Don’t fuck it up.”

The group had traveled mostly in silence for several hours until the sun rose. As the morning sun began to shine, Patton began talking.

“You know, I think we ought to get to know each other better, you know, as a group.”

Logan gave him a withering look. “Must we?”

“Yes,” Patton answered matter-of-fact-ly. “We should take turns saying fun facts about ourselves.” He was met with silence. “Okay, I’ll go first. I’m Patton, and I can say the alphabet backwards.”

“You can?” Logan asked before Janus could warn him.

“Yep!” Patton said with a grin. “Listen,” he paused for effect. “’The alphabet backwards.’”

Logan blinked, and Virgil, Roman, Thomas, and Remy all snickered. Then realization dawned on him, followed by a devastated thousand-yard stare.

Patton burst into giggles. “Okay, okay,” he said through his laughter. “Remus next!”

Remus smiled. “I’m Remus, and I tricked Patton into marrying me.”

“Remus!” Patton chided. “You did not trick me!”

“Nope,” Remus answered. “You fell desperately in love with me all on your own because I’m irresistible.”

“Ew!” Roman and Janus exclaimed simultaneously. They locked eyes for a second, then silently agreed never to mention it again.

Patton sighed, a smile still on his face. “Okay, Jan, your turn.”

Janus’s eyes widened. “Me? Why me?”

“Because you’re the first one I looked at!” Patton replied.

Janus sighed. “Well… I’m Janus, and I guess I see the future now.”

“We all knew that already,” Patton protested.

“Okay, fine, then… Um, I guess… Oh, I once helped Remus fill Roman’s room with feral cats,” Janus said. “That’s a pretty fun fact.”

“You what?!” Roman screeched.

Janus rubbed at his ear. “Ow.”

“I thought you had ‘nothing to do with that’!”

Janus huffed. “I lie, Roman, we’ve established this.”

“Ooookay!” Patton intervened. “Next…. Um, Logan!”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Well, I am Logan, and I work as head of servants at the palace, a role which I share with Remy. I am also Prince Virgil’s personal manservant.”

“Lolo, we already knew that, too,” Patton said.

“I really do not know what you want from me, Patton,” Logan said.

“Well…” Patton began. “Oh! How about your favorite sweet!”

Logan blinked. “I suppose that would be the jam the palace cook makes.”

Virgil grinned. “I once saw him eat a whole jar in one sitting, three days in a row,” he said.

Logan’s face went still. “Falsehood. You’ve fabricated this.”

“Mmmh, I don’t think I have, Lo,” Virgil answered.

“How about you, Prince Virgil?” Patton prompted.

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Well, first of all, I’d prefer if all of you just call me Virgil. At least for this journey. Um… What’s a good fact about me? Ah, um, I can do this,” he said, and summoned a small ball of light in the palm of his hand. They all watched as it morphed through several animal shapes before settling on a cat that stretched, arched its back, then curled up in Virgil’s hand before slowly fading.

“Woah,” Patton said. “You’ve gotten so much better at that!”

“Very impressive,” Thomas agreed with a smile.

“And you, Thomas?” Patton asked.

“Oh, well, I’m Thomas, and I like to sing,” Thomas answered. He hummed a scale in demonstration.

“Wow!” Patton exclaimed. “I didn’t know that.”

“You don’t know everything about everyone, Pat,” Virgil pointed out.

“If I did, I’d be Janus,” Patton joked.

“I don’t know everything about everyone,” Janus informed them. “Just the things I can use in my favor.”

Roman mumbled something, and Janus pretended not to have noticed.

“I’ll go next,” Remy volunteered. “I’m Remy, and I make the best coffee and tea in the world.”

“You know I make better Earl Grey than you,” Logan interjected.

“In your dreams, Girl,” Remy responded.

“His coffee is pretty good,” Virgil admitted.

“Your turn, Roman,” Patton said.

“I hear a river,” Roman said in lieu of an answer.

“Perfect,” Logan said. “That should be a good place to rest briefly and gather some water if it’s clean. If not, we should probably gather it anyway and build a fire to heat it.”

The group headed toward the sound. Janus slowed, getting a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Then Patton called his name, and he hurried to catch up.

The river was wide and flowed briskly, though not quick enough to pose any danger should they need to cross it. Virgil looked around at the edge of the trees by the river, and his stomach flipped as he heard a snatch of song.

“Guys, wait!” he exclaimed. “I think I know where we are!”

The music got louder. Virgil quickly slapped his hands over his ears and spat out a quick incantation, causing the rest of the group to do the same and freeze that way. Someone was still moving, though.

Logan was walking toward the river’s edge at a leisurely pace, a blank smile on his face.

Virgil’s eyes widened, and he murmured another incantation to muffle all sound for himself. He ran to Logan and looked toward the river.

Logan looked toward the river too. He didn’t notice Virgil next to him. Instead, he saw Virgil sitting on the rocky bank, singing. He held a flower in his hand, which he looked up from only to bat his thick lashes at Logan.

Virgil saw the creature for what it was. Its face was covered in a mix of scales and feathers, the skin between gray and withered. Its hunched shoulders drew close to its thin neck as it sang. A slimy, pointed tongue darted out over chapped lips.

Virgil planted himself in between the thing and Logan, hands on Logan’s shoulders. But Logan was physically stronger than him, especially under the creature’s influence. Logan forced him to take a step back, then another. “Logan, please,” Virgil said. “Logan, it’s not real,” he begged. “Whatever you see, it’s not real. It’s going to kill you, Logan, please!”

Logan kept pushing forward towards the river.

“Logan!” Virgil exclaimed, glancing back to see they were only a few meters away from the bank now. “Logan, I need you to be safe! I need you, Logan! Please!” he cried, throwing his arms around Logan’s shoulders.

Logan stopped, the melody shortly after. “Virgil?” he asked, looking down at the prince in confusion.

Virgil nearly sobbed with relief, sagging against Logan’s chest.

The rest of the group removed their hands from their ears, staggering slightly.

A screech rang through the air, and Virgil felt a hand close around his ankle, sharp claws digging in. He was yanked back and nearly fell.

Logan closed his arms around Virgil quickly, eyes widening. “Virgil!”

The others were pretty quick to realize what was happening and rushed over. Janus, Remus, Patton, and Remy all grabbed onto Virgil tightly and began to pull with Logan, while Roman and Thomas each drew their swords. They rushed the creature and began taking swipes at it, though they couldn’t seem to penetrate its steel-like scales.

Janus kicked at the creature’s face, and it used its free hand to swipe at him, tearing his pants and leaving long gashes across his upper thigh. In his surprise, he let go of Virgil and staggered back, and the creature managed to pull Virgil a little closer to the water. Remus let go, too, as soon as he noticed Janus’s injury.

Roman scanned his eyes over the revolting creature, and he finally brought his blade down hard on its wrist, cleanly severing its hand.

It screeched again and reeled back, and Remy, Patton, Logan, and Virgil toppled over into a pile. The creature disappeared into the water with a splash, leaving a trail of viscous brown blood.

Virgil looked down to see the hand still clutching his ankle and cried out. Thomas leaned down to hold his leg still and pried the hand off with the tip of his sword.

Roman rushed over to Janus, who was leaning against a nearby boulder. “Are you okay?” he asked urgently.

Janus nodded. “Fine… I’m fine, just a scratch.”

Roman leaned down to look. “That’s not just a scratch, Janus,” he said, giving him a look. “Take better care of yourself. Hopefully Prince Virgil can heal that in a minute.”

He stood straight and turned to help everyone regroup.

Logan held Virgil close to his chest for a few moments longer as the group began getting ready to move to a safer area. Finally, he helped him stand. “Thank you, Virgil,” he said very seriously.

Virgil managed a weak smile. “No big deal.”

10: The Confidants

The campfire crackled, comforting Patton a great deal. He leaned back, watching the water from the river begin to boil, the additions of the vegetables Virgil had foraged for and whatever type of meat Thomas had managed to acquire when he left for twenty minutes beginning to turn it into more of a broth. He reclined against a particularly old tree and let Janus take over the stirring for a minute. Thomas sat next to him, cleaning a blade. Despite the dire circumstances, he was quite comfortable with this group of people.

Across the fire, Roman sat down in between Janus and Virgil. Logan was on Virgil’s other side, then Remy, but Logan was entirely focused on the map, which Roman had given him to look over while they rested. Thus, Roman seemed to be the only one who caught Virgil poking at his ankle, pants pulled up slightly to reveal a bruise and the beginnings of some swelling. “Are you alright?” Roman asked.

“Mmh,” Virgil answered noncommittally. “I’ll be fine.”

“Can’t you heal it?” Roman pressed.

Virgil frowned. “I haven’t really mastered healing myself yet. Drawing from my own energy just to pour it back into myself… It’s harder than you’d think.”

Roman nodded and reached for his bag. He dug around in it for only a moment before pulling out a small bundle, wrapped in a strip of fabric. He unwound the fabric to reveal another, lighter fabric beneath holding together a poultice. Roman held out the poultice and the strip of fabric. “My nanny, and Remus’s, she made this. Caught me packing and made me bring it.”

Virgil hesitated. “I can’t accept that.”

Roman raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to disturb Logan from his intensive thinking?”

Virgil grimaced. “Okay, okay.” He took the offered poultice and fabric, then pressed the poultice against the worst of the bruising. After securing it with the cloth, he looked up at Roman. “Thanks.”

Roman smiled. “You’re quite welcome, Your Highness.”

Virgil flushed. “Stop that,” he groaned. “I’m nobody’s superior right now. Or in general really-”

“Do I hear self-deprecation over there?” Patton’s voice called.

Sighing, Virgil shook his head. “I am your equal in this journey. How’s that, Pat?”

“Perfect, Virge. Keep it up,” Patton encouraged.

Remy snickered.

“What?!” Virgil snapped.

Remy shrugged, still smiling to himself.

Virgil grumbled to himself for a moment or two. “Either way, I don’t particularly enjoy the royal titles and all that…”

Roman gasped. “I never would have guessed!” he cried, feigning surprise.

Virgil elbowed him. “Shut up, dummy.”

“That’s the best you’ve got?” Roman asked.

“Oh, no, but if I swear, Logan’s sure to look up, no matter how preoccupied he is.”

“He’s definitely listening,” Remy added. “The boy can multitask.”

Janus looked up from the pot of what could now probably be called soup. “Remus has been gone for a while.”

Patton sat up. “You’re right. Should finding more firewood take this long?”

Roman scoffed. “Please, he’s Remus, he’ll be fine.”

Janus nodded slightly. “He’s right, Patton. It’s Remus. He probably found something gross that interests him, so he’s watching that.”

Patton didn’t look convinced, but he nodded back anyway. “Yeah, you’re probably right, Roman.”

“Of course I am,” Roman said, puffing out his chest.

Virgil, slouching, snorted. “Oh, you’re more of an obnoxious royal than I’ll ever be.”

One of Roman’s hands flew to his chest, and he gasped. “’Obnoxious’?!”

Virgil nodded definitively, though he couldn’t hold back a smile. He giggled.

Roman shook his head. “You wound me, Virgil,” he lamented.

Virgil snorted. Logan looked up briefly, but then seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it and looked back down to the map. Virgil had to hold his hand over his mouth to stifle the laughter at the look Logan had given him.

“Dinner’s ready,” Janus said. “Smells great, thanks Thomas, thanks Virgil.”

Janus began serving the soup into the wooden bowls Logan had been sure to tell everyone to bring. There was just enough for everyone present at the fire and about two more servings.

As they ate, Virgil eyed Patton, who ate far more quickly than Virgil thought he used to, then began glancing at the pot. He caught Janus’s gaze and nodded toward Patton.

Janus watched Patton for a minute, then took Patton’s bowl. He scooped out a smaller serving into the bowl, then dumped the rest of his own into it. When Patton opened his mouth to protest, Janus held up a hand. “We have some leftover things from Virgil’s foraging that I can eat, and you know Remus will only eat one portion.”

Patton couldn’t exactly argue with that. He tried anyway. “But wouldn’t you like the soup better?”

“Nope,” Janus answered. “Doesn’t agree with me.”

Patton frowned.

“You know I’m not going to let up until you eat,” Janus pointed out.

Patton sighed, then smiled a little. “Thanks, Janus.”

Janus waved a hand. “Whatever.” After a moment, he pulled out his journal and a fancy pen he’d kept from his younger years from his bag. He opened it and began to jot down some of the day’s events as well as the visions he hadn’t had time to write about yet. There was a pleasant silence that fell over them for a while. Janus’s pen against papers, the crackle of the fire, and the waking crickets and owls were the only sounds that rang out in the twilight.

Then there were the sounds of footsteps and twigs breaking. Remus loudly made his way to the fire and dumped an armful of firewood near it. He grinned over at Janus and Patton. Patton smiled back, while Janus gave him an unimpressed look.

“We saved you some dinner,” Patton announced.

As soon as Remus held out his bowl, Janus dumped the rest of the soup into it.

“We should rest soon,” Logan said, finally looking up from the map.

Roman yawned as if to punctuate Logan’s statement, causing Virgil to yawn.

Remus swallowed a mouthful of soup. “I’ll take first watch. Get some sleep, everyone.”

“I’ll take the next watch,” Logan said. “Wake me in two hours.”

“Then me,” Janus volunteered.

“I’ll go last,” Roman said.

Virgil and Patton looked up from where they’d been yawning, half asleep.

“Hey, wait,” said Virgil.

“Yeah,” Patton said.

Logan and Roman met gazes. “I suppose we could use one more shift, so everyone gets adequate sleep,” Logan said.

Roman nodded. “Aren’t you going to volunteer, Remy?” he asked.

“Nah,” Remy answered. “I’ll let one of them take it.”

“Me!” said Virgil before Patton could.

Patton pouted at him.

“Okay, Your Highness,” Logan said.

“Lo-” Virgil tried to protest.

Logan smiled tightly. “I am still your subordinate.”

Virgil huffed.

“Lay out your bedrolls,” Roman said. “Get some rest.”

Virgil sat on a tree stump with his chin in his hand. He supposed it was good that nothing had happened during his watch, but still, he was very bored. Sunrise was on its way, the sky beginning to lighten ever-so-slightly.

When he heard movement behind him, in their campsite, he turned around quickly. He saw Patton quickly getting out of his bedroll and stumbling off into the forest around the campsite.

Virgil debated in his head for a few moments. If he followed Patton, the campsite would be undefended. But, currently, Patton was undefended. He decided to follow.

He moved as quietly as possible, so as not to disturb the others. He heard Patton begin to retch, and he moved a little more quickly. When he found Patton, he announced his presence softly, “Patton, are you alright?”

Patton managed to nod, though he began emptying the contents of his stomach shortly afterwards.

Virgil moved next to him and gently rubbed his back. “It’s okay, just get it out,” he said as comfortingly as possible.

After a few minutes, Patton straightened up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m okay,” he rasped.

Virgil reached out and placed his hand on Patton’s forehead, murmuring a quiet incantation. He meant to check what was wrong with him. He instead found something entirely different. “Patton,” he said slowly, “are you…?”

Patton nodded a little. “Um, yeah.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I, ah, I don’t know what to do! I haven’t told Remus yet, I can’t. What if he’s not ready, or he doesn’t want to- What if I’m not ready?!”

Virgil placed his hands on Patton’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “Pat. You will be the best father ever. I know you will. And I’ll be here, no matter what. Whatever happens with Remus, whatever you need. I’m here.”

Patton sniffled and threw his arms around Virgil. He sobbed into Virgil’s shoulder, and Virgil held him tightly, one hand on his back and the other on the back of his head.

“I’ve got you,” Virgil said gently. “I’ve got you.”

Patton sat next to Virgil on his bed. “Hi. What’s wrong?”

Virgil huffed out a small laugh. “How do you do that?”

Patton grinned. “I can read minds. Now, tell me.”

Virgil bit his lip, chewing on the dry skin there. “I don’t want you to hate me,” he finally said.

Patton scoffed. “You’re my best friend. Why would I ever hate you?”

Virgil’s frown deepened. “You really want me to tell you something that might make you hate me?”

Patton smiled gently at him. “I could never hate you. You can tell me anything.”

Virgil took a deep breath, then blurted out, “I’m not a girl, I’m a boy, and my name is Virgil!”

Patton took a moment to parse out what Virgil had said, then realization flashed across his face. “Oh, thank the gods,” he breathed out. “Me too.”

Virgil tilted his head, processing.

Patton laughed loudly. “Call me Patton,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Virgil.” He smoothed out his skirt and grinned again at Virgil.

Virgil smiled hesitantly back. “Okay.”

“ Okay,” Patton said. “I’m so glad I got to tell you that.”

“ Me too,” Virgil said, grabbing Patton’s hand.

“ And I’m here for you no matter what,” Patton added.

“ Me too. I’ll always be there for you, Patton.”

Six months later, they both told Virgil’s parents.

A year later, Patton met Remus. They got engaged not long after, and Logan replaced Patton as Virgil’s personal servant. Parting was hard for them. But life moved on. Being on a journey together was nice, though. It felt like no time had passed.

11: The Child God

Janus walked next to Roman as they made their way along the path. Behind them were Patton and Remus, then Logan and Remy. Roman was looking at the map, where Logan had laid out a new, “more efficient” path for them.

“You know you’re holding it sideways, right?” Janus asked.

Roman scoffed. “It’s called looking at something from a different angle. Try it sometime.”

Janus scowled. “You don’t have to get angry every time someone tries to help.”

“Maybe I don’t want your help,” Roman snipped.

“Fine,” answered Janus, Having schooled his expression into calm indifference. “Let’s see how well you do without me.”

“Fine,” said Roman, turning the map completely upside-down.

“Will you two shut up?” Remus groaned.

“No,” Janus and Roman answered at the same time.

“Seriously, shut up,” Remy interjected, “I hear something.”

Everyone paused, listening carefully. There was yelling in the distance.

They all looked at each other, then began to run in the direction of the yelling. Janus lagged behind a bit, so Patton stayed with him.

It didn’t take more than two minutes for the group to come to the clearing in which was nestled a small cottage. In the garden in the front, which was larger than the area of the house, a man and a child were running about with large nets. The man was also holding a shovel.

“Hello?” Roman called. Janus tried to shush him, but it was too late.

The man paused, though the boy continued in his pursuit of… something. The man waved, and Remus waved back.

Remy crossed his arms and looked rather unimpressed.

“What?” Patton asked.

“I don’t do kids.”

“What?” Janus repeated.

“I just don’t like ‘em, hun.”

Janus rolled his eyes and looked to where the twins were already headed toward the house.

“Whether you enjoy the presence of children is not relevant to this situation,” Logan, clearly exasperated, told Remy. “Now… Get over it.” He turned to Patton. “Did I say that right?”

Patton gave him two thumbs up.

They started to walk toward the cottage, Patton and Logan practically dragging Remy. Roman had already reached the front gate.

“And you are?” Roman asked, having already introduced himself and his brother.

“I’m Emile!” the kid cried.

Roman smiled. “Lovely to meet you, Emile.”

The man looked at the group, seeming like he was thinking very hard about something. Finally he said, “I’m Teal. What are you doing here?”

“We,” Roman said, trying to sound important, “are on a quest!”

Janus rolled his eyes. “We heard you yelling, so we came to see if something is wrong.”

“Something is wrong!” Emile exclaimed.

“What is it?” Roman asked.

“Garden gnomes,” the man replied. “We have an infestation.”

“I thought most gnomes lived in the mountains,” Roman said.

“Oh, those are true gnomes,” the man explained. “Garden gnomes are pests that dig up gardens and eat any plant they can find.”

“They get into my garden pretty often,” Janus said.

“And you’d know that if you hung out with the cool group, Ro-Ro,” Remus said with a grin.

Patton elbowed him and muttered, “Be nice.”

“Well, can we help?” Roman asked.

Remy groaned, so Patton elbowed him too.

The man hesitated. “Some extra hands might be useful.” He smiled at Emile, and Emile smiled back.

Roman smiled too. “Perfect.”

Janus held out his hand over the gate to shake the man’s hand, shoving Roman slightly out of the way. “I’m Janus,” he introduced himself. Roman glared at him.

“I’m Patton!” Patton added. “And this is Logan, and Remy!”

Teal nodded. “Okay, so here’s our strategy for trapping the garden gnomes.”

The group filed through the gate as Teal explained that they were trying to drive the pests into the center of the garden on the path, then catch them in one of the nets. Teal was going to dig out any holes that looked like they still had gnomes in them.

Unfortunately, this plan just resulted in all of them running around for a long while like they were being chased by an ogre, except for Emile and Janus, who were keeping the garden gnomes in the center. They had five of them.

By the time they were finished, it was a bit past noon. Teal put the garden gnomes in a burlap sack and asked Roman if he could take them as far out into the forest as possible and release them, so Roman went. Then Teal invited the rest of them inside.

“Dear, we’re all done,” he called, removing his jacket and leaving it on a chair by the door.

They walked through the den and into a kitchen, where a man stood by the oven. He looked over with a fond smile when Teal and Emile entered. His eyebrows shot up when more people followed. Then he smiled again. “I don’t think we have enough chairs, but we’ll make it work! Who are all of you?”

“We’re.. passing through and heard Teal and Emile in the garden,” Janus explained.

“Their friend said they’re on a quest!” Emile added.

Janus sighed. “Roman is prone to dramatics.”

“You can say that again,” Remus said.

“Well,” said the man at the oven. “I just got the stove hot enough. Can I make you lunch in thanks? We can introduce ourselves while I work on that.”

“You don’t have to-” Patton rushed to say.

“I am pretty hungry,” Remus admitted before Patton could quite finish. Patton pouted at him.

Janus couldn’t help but agree.

Teal had already begun dragging in every chair that he could find.

Patton made Janus sit down at the table, then sat next to him.

“So,” said the man as he got ingredients from cabinets. “My name is Dyad. I’m the dad around here,” he said with a small laugh.

“That’s because he’s Papa,” said Emile, pointing to Teal.

Dyad paused for a moment to ruffle Emile’s hair affectionately.

The group introduced themselves again as Dyad cooked. Patton kept offering help and getting refused. After a while, Dyad served food.

They talked pleasantly as they ate, Janus and Teal sharing gardening tips. Once everyone was finished with their lunch, there was a knock on the door.

“Emile, could you get that, honey?” asked Dyad.

Emile hopped up and practically ran to the door. When he opened it, Roman, Virgil, and Thomas stood at the door. “Hi, Roman,” he said happily. He peered around Roman to see the two others. He locked eyes with Thomas. “Thomas!” he cried and practically pushed past Roman to hug Thomas around the waist.

Thomas froze for a moment, then hugged Emile back, his eyes filling with tears. “You can touch me…” he mumbled.

“Only here,” Emile said back. He pulled away, then looked at Virgil. “Hi! I’m Emile!”

Virgil smiled a little, though he looked between Emile and Thomas curiously. “Virgil. Nice to meet you.”

Emile smiled back, then went back inside, gesturing for them to follow him into the house.

They followed, though Thomas walked stiffly and looked around carefully. It was the same, but… different. Very different. It still felt like home.

When they got to the kitchen, tears began to flow down Thomas’s face.

Virgil was the first to notice. He nudged him gently and asked softly, “Are you okay?”

Thomas didn’t respond to him. Instead, he hesitantly asked, “Dad? Papa?”

Both Teal and Dyad turned to look at him, then rushed, almost tripping over themselves, to hug him. Thomas held on to them tightly, trying his hardest not to sob.

Emile hugged Thomas again, too.

“How is this possible?” Thomas choked out.

“Um…” Roman said.

Janus elbowed him in the side, but he continued nonetheless.

“What’s going on?” Roman asked.

Thomas sniffled and wiped at his face.

“I brought Dad and Papa here so I could be with them,” Emile explained, though Roman didn’t find that very helpful to him. Emile continued, looking up at Thomas earnestly. “This is my little corner of the world, where I can live again. You can come here too, someday. But you still have a lot to do.”

“Emile-” Thomas began, but very suddenly, the house was gone. Teal, Dyad, and Emile were gone, too. It left all of them dizzy and disoriented. They sat in weathered chairs around a rotting table, except for Thomas and Virgil, who still stood. Tears flowed freely down Thomas’s face.

Thomas didn’t speak again until they were sat around a campfire again. Everyone else was quiet, trying not to disturb him too much as he appeared to be deep in thought. Finally, he looked up, meeting eyes with Remy over his tinted glasses. Thomas’s eyes were bloodshot, and Remy’s eyes had bags under them.

“Emile was my brother,” he said, voice hoarse.

“Was?” Patton asked gently.

Thomas nodded. “He was seven, and I was six, and our village was raided.”

There was silence for several moments. Then Remy spoke up, “You don’t have to talk about it.”

Thomas coughed. “But I should.”

Janus frowned. “You shouldn’t do anything that will cause you pain,” he said.

“I need to,” Thomas insisted.

Remy nodded slightly, face deathly serious for once. He reached over and grabbed Thomas’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

Thomas shot Remy a sad smile, then looked around at the rest of the group. “Teal and Dyad, Papa and Dad, they adopted us before I can remember. They took care of us and made sure we were happy. The other people in our village were amazing, too. We all took care of each other. It was full of good people.” He paused, taking a shaky breath in and letting it out in a heavy sigh. “I’m the only survivor.”

Patton gasped softly, and Remus put an arm around him.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Virgil said.

Thomas shook his head. “It was a long time ago.” He smiled a wobbly smile. “Emile died protecting me. He hid me, and took an arrow to the chest before he could hide himself.”

Remy squeezed his hand again.

“He didn’t die, though, not all the way,” said Thomas. “Some of the goddesses took him in. He’s…”

“The Child God of Magic,” Janus finished in a soft voice.

“How’d you know?” Thomas asked.

Janus frowned. “I just… did.”

“The church was an accident,” Thomas said. “I went to look for help, and I told the people in the next village over that I was saved by my dead brother, and they just kind of… picked it up. We built a temple to him, and they took care of me. The temple helped him gain power, and…”

“How’d you become a knight?” Roman asked.

Thomas shrugged. “I wanted to help people. It made sense.”

Logan, who had been looking down pensively this whole time, looked up. “You gave Emile new life. You should be proud of that.”

Thomas smiled again. “Thanks.”

“We should go to sleep,” Roman said after a bit of silence. “Long day tomorrow.”

Continued in Part 2...

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unknooooow · 4 months

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BTTF Year-End Tag Game!

@alex-a-fans thanks for tagging me :DD and yes I wanted to wait until very close to new year's eve to post this

This year:

-How many times would you guess you watched the first back to the future movie?

... good question. Idk too :)) maybe 10 or 15 times around

-Did you get any sweet bttf merch? If so, what!

this year I only got one thing: the bttf making of book (I got it for my bday :DD)

-How many cans of Pepsi Free did you chug this year?

well... 1 or 2? pepsi is not something that is easy to find around here ;-;

-What was a favorite bttf fanfic you read this year?

I could name several... but Im gonna name one with several chapters and a oneshot

fic with more than one chapter: Most People Were Silent by @daryfromthefuture. DOC FROM THE 40S :DD this topic is just soo interesting. and Dary worked really well on this topic :))

oneshot: Merry Christmas from the Browns by @alex-a-fans. this was one of the best. Its funny and it caught me by surprise. doc as Santa Claus :))

-A favorite bttf fanart you saw this year? (please give us a link, not a screencap/repost!)

calm down. here I go looking for the fanarts :)

this fanart is so amazing and deep (@autoraton)

I love analyzing Citizen Brown reality. and this here represents my fascination with this :)) (@tobytost)

the Brown family is my fictional family ok? I love them and they look beautiful in this fanart 🥺🥺 (@maxintime)

I LOVE BABY DOC YOUR HONOR!! he looks so cute in this fanart I CANT STAND IT 🥺🥺 (@cheriboms)

-Did you create any bttf fanart or fanfic? If you did, what one(s) are you proudest of?

OOOOOOH GREAT QUESTION :DD

In terms of fic I think the best was the first chapter of June of Doom. At first I thought the idea might backfire but it ended up making a great fic :)) I loved working on the topic

In terms of fanart I choose this beauty here. this was one of the drawings that required the most work but it was worth it :) I ended up liking the result and the text and the other characters I made

-How many times were you late for school this year?

none :) I am a very exemplary student ;))

-Did you watch any other movies/tv shows with BTTF actors in them?

well, I watched My Favorite Martian (courtesy of @alex-a-fans :)) that features Christopher Lloyd. the old Addams movie that also features Christopher Lloyd. and... Who framed Roger Rabbit... that also features... Christopher Lloyd...

-Was there a memorable moment you heard a Huey Lewis song this year?

in the car. started playing The Power of Love on the radio. and my parents started singing along with me. it was really fun :)

-How many times did you fall down this year?

1 or maybe 2 times. I really try not to fall down

-Did you get to see BTTF: The Musical? What was your experience like!

unfortunately not (yet) ;-; but I hope to go next year (if I can convince my parents to buy tickets for me)

-How many times did your mom retell the story of how she and your father met?

she only told me this story 3 times. and I still remember. Its not that big of a story but its interesting. And if I went back in time maybe I could end up interfering with that too :,)

-If you could describe your year in a BTTF quote, which one would it be?

“Why do we have to cut these things so damn close?”

yep. definitely

⚡️LIGHTNING ROUND⚡️ Did you get to: go on any trains, skate on a skateboard, ride a horse, drive a Delorean, run in the rain, go to a dance, hang up a clock, play the guitar, pull an all-nighter, read science fiction, or drive thru Burger King this year?

-Your future is whatever you make it! So what are you going to make of this coming year?

try to be more active. and write more. ill try :)) I dont promise much

but anyway. HAPPY NEW YEAR PEOPLE :DD

Tagging: @autoraton @maxintime @tobytost feel free to do it :))

#back to the future #bttf #bttf tag game #tag game #tag #tag tag #tag tag tag #new year #happy new year #consider this my review for a new year/renewal of the blog for 2024 #no more tags #:)

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thewhumperinwhite · 9 months

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WKW: The Rose Queen, Part 1

WKW Masterlist Here

sorry for the, like, Actual Year Between Updates, and then this one is just set up. I've Been In Hell. Anyway, here are some Plans and Schemes.

...who is my taglist for this. are they still active. who knows. dm me if you wanna be tagged in WKW updates please

TW for: manipulation, just bc of Morden and Thorne's Whole Deal, but honestly it's pretty mild in this one.

The first letter arrives a week after the taking of Colomur Castle. It is written in delicate flowing script on silk-weave paper, scented with rose oil. The envelope is filled with rose petals.

To he who has Called himself the King in Colomur:

You have slaughtered the Lion in his Den. It is a Feat, whether Good or Ill. No doubt the Nobles of this country—none of them Lions themselves—now trip over their each other to be the first with his Tongue on your Boot.

I wonder if you might wish for finer company.

My messenger will wait three days for a reply.

Yours in Anticipation,

The Rose Queen

Morden’s eyebrows practically disappear into his hairline when he reads the signature at the bottom of the finely-printed letter. He paces in his chambers, alone except for Thorne, who knows best how to soothe his sudden, unproductive fit of rage.

He sends Tern out the next day, to find out who the hell this Queen might be. He doesn’t tear up the letter, as is his first impulse. Instead he sits at the Lion’s desk and spends far longer than he will ever admit crafting a letter clever enough to match.

To She Who May Call Herself A Queen, Morden writes, and then crumples the paper and throws it over his shoulder. It is too direct; this woman—claimer of a title as high as his own—will read the address and see the depth his pen has carved into the paper in his too-tight grip and know that she has angered him, and he will not give her the satisfaction.

My Dear Lady Rose, he writes instead. That seems subtle enough.

He thinks about cursing the letter. He could; could sprinkle black dust inside that would coat this woman’s throat and eyes and nostrils with choking smog as soon as she broke the seal; send her and her claims at Title to the Ice Under the Earth where he sent the Lion of Colomur. He doesn’t, though. He is, above all, curious.

The second letter arrives even before Tern’s return, delivered by an identical messenger in red livery with gold roses embroidered on the breast. The color is troublingly similar to the Lion’s royal crest. Morden glowers at the messenger almost without meaning to; the man, with some visible effort, does not wilt under Morden’s gaze.

My Dear White Crane, the letter begins, and Morden almost (almost) admires the elegance of the address—a clear response to his own, and subtle enough in its disrespect (she has still not called him King, a title he has earned and is due, and he has to consciously stop himself from grinding his teeth).

You Honor us with your Interest, the Rose Queen writes. We Thought to offer your Messenger Tea, but he Disappeared into the Brush before any Courtesies could be Extended.

My messenger will Wait three days for your reply. Prudence might suggest your reply be sent through this channel, lest others of your men also become Frightened.

Morden realizes that he is crumpling the edges of the paper in his fists, and forces his fingers to relax.

Yours in Hospitality,

The Rose Queen.

At the bottom of the paper, someone has made a small but elegant ink sketch of Tern, in his Falconer’s livery, seen from behind as he leaps into what appears to be a thorn bush.

Morden smooths the paper down on his desk. He gets calmly on his feet. Then he kicks the chair over and shouts for someone who can give him news of who the hell this woman is.

Tern arrives the next day, looking harassed and with his Falconer’s cloak slightly torn, but otherwise none the worse for wear. Morden meets him in the entrance hall with literal storm clouds gathering at his shoulders and his hands sparking with electricity. Tern has been a Falconer long enough not to be unduly alarmed by this; he knows that Morden is too clever to vaporize as talented a scout and spy as Tern for one failure, no matter how embarrassing that failure may have been. It helps, of course, that Tern is not returning empty handed.

Technically, Morden learns, first from Tern and then from three days of frantic shuffling through volumes of badly kept records and histories in Colomur Castle’s library, Hyacinth of House Rose has no more claim to the throne of Craetalia than he himself does. Or not much more, anyway. She has no blood connection to the Lion; is only leftovers from the Lion’s wife’s previous marriage.

“Of course,” Morden says aloud that night, in Thorne’s direction but really to himself, “none of that will matter if she is clever with her tongue and looks pretty enough riding her war horse toward my castle.” He runs his hand through his hair, not for the first time, and it catches on a knot he has worried into it. “People love a Princess,” he says, laughing bitterly.

“Not the way they love a King, Master,” says Thorne, who always knows what to say. Morden looks down at the bed, where Thorne is sitting anxiously upright, looking back with big, concerned eyes.

Morden laughs, feeling his shoulders loosen, and plops down on the settee with his back to Thorne, who immediately begins working the knots out of Morden’s hair, clearly relieved to be serving instead of speaking.

“Quite right, pet,” Morden says, reaching back to pat Thorne’s knee.

(Thorne sighs at the touch, the way he always does: somewhere between pleasure and relief.

(People do not touch him very often.)

Morden writes back the next day, over about an hour of dithering over wording. (There’s no one he can ask for help; Raven is too aggressive, Swan is too disdainful, and Thorne is too stupid.) The final draft is carefully crafted; a polite but distant declaration of some slight interest in further correspondence. He decides, after much internal debate, not to ask her what she wants. She wrote first; she won’t wait long before making her intentions clear, and he doesn’t her to think him too interested.

He's right, of course; she declares her intention within the month. Morden is not often surprised; he prides himself on reading people easily, on anticipating any and all schemes his opponents might attempt.

He will admit this, though, to Thorne if no one else:

The Rose Queen’s proposal does surprise him.

#original whump #fantasy whump #the winter king's ward #manipulation #whumper pov #...idk how else to tag this. anyway

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fangirleaconmigo · 1 year

Text

It is not lost on me that I've consistently posted Witcher content for several years, slowly and lovingly and painstakingly building a Witcher community, that I've written over a half million words for the witcher fandom AND YET my biggest post of all is an Our Flag Means Death text post that took me about thirty seconds to write. lmaoooo. This is life.

Ok, here goes:

I posted 2,005 times in 2022

That's 1,009 more posts than 2021!

625 posts created (31%)

1,380 posts reblogged (69%)

Blogs I reblogged the most: (apparently my self rb's are being called out, here, but look, I gotta let people know I wrote a fic. Also, hiii blogs I rb a lot)

@fangirleaconmigo

@roughentumble

@witcherladiesamirite

@on-a-lucky-tide

@samstree

I tagged 1,939 of my posts in 2022

Only 3% of my posts had no tags

#the witcher - 1,343 posts

#jaskier - 580 posts

#geralt of rivia - 551 posts

#geraskier - 351 posts

#asks - 279 posts

#yennefer of vengerberg - 236 posts

#the witcher books - 186 posts

#cirilla fiona elen riannon - 147 posts

#dandelion - 123 posts

#eskel - 118 posts

Longest Tag: 120 characters

#half the maidens in the front row throw their underthings at him while he’s still covered in viscera and crocodile tears

My Top Posts in 2022:

There are a lot of fics in the fandom where Jaskier is a concubine or bed warmer and is gifted to Geralt (usually warlord Geralt) and that becomes his path to freedom and love. Some of them are among the best fics in the fandom. One of them is one of my favorite fics ever.

But I do get to thinking...

Men who are physically strong and skilled in combat (like Geralt) can also be exploited. In fact, physical power is one of the most limited forms of power, and witchers are exploited and oppressed in canon. And by the same token, men who can't wield a weapon (like Jaskier), can be very powerful if they are born into the correct family.

So. What if we flip their roles in the narrative? (I'm sure there are flipped fics out there, but I'm going to spin my own idea for a minute.) Alright. Here we go. My idea for Prince Jaskier/Gladiator Geralt.

CW for references to past sexual abuse. Do not read further if you don't want to read any references to sexual abuse. As I said, it is a reversal of the trope mentioned above, so none of the abuse is between Geralt and Jaskier, but the premise does involve servitude and abuse.

---------

Jaskier is a prince sent out on his very first diplomatic visit. He has been chosen for this task (negotiating a treaty) because he has come of age, and his father wants him to make a match with the princess. His father has managed to keep his country's economic crisis a secret, but it won't stay that way for long. If Jaskier can impress his hosts perhaps he can marry the princess, and his people will be pulled back from the brink of financial ruin.

But before Jaskier goes, his father counsels him that he will see some barbaric practices in this other country. Though this other country is wealthy and advanced technologically, it still engages in things like gladiator fights and indentured servitude. Jaskier says that he understands. He can keep his mouth shut no matter what he sees. He knows that they are counting on him.

The first day of the visit goes well. During a long session of intense negotiations, Jaskier makes a brilliant first impression, so much so that the king invites him to be the guest of honor at a gladiator fight. Jaskier does not have a stomach for violence or gore. So he downs a few goblets of wine to take the edge off and to keep himself relaxed enough to not vomit at the first sight of entrails.

Their prize gladiator is a striking, white haired warrior with mystical powers. He has an enviable streak of wins, and the people love him. Part of why they love him is because he seems to hate killing people. He will do it efficiently and well, in order to defend his life. But when they push someone out into the ring that is ill prepared or a poor match for him, he does everything he can to stall or stop the fight.

Once, the king tells Jaskier, he refused to fight and managed to convince his opponent to refuse to fight. They publicly executed several prisoners in retaliation, so now he fights. But he curses them elaborately after every win.

Instead of it weighing on their conscience, however, the audience moons over him as a noble assassin, a killer with a heart of gold. It's the irony, it's the angst. They love him. Not enough to free him of course, but they love him.

Jaskier worries he is not drunk enough for this, but he manages. As expected, the warrior wins the fight. It is a tough match against a skilled and weathered opponent. But he fights with the mesmerizing grace of a brutal dancer and he wins in a spectacular fashion. The crowd goes berserk.

Though Jaskier finds the warrior incredibly compelling, his eyes drawn to him over and over like a beacon, he is relieved as fuck that the whole thing is over. He can't wait to go back to his room and cleanse away the memory of that horrible pulsing severed carotid with maybe a song or another drink. He can't wait to have more power and ban some of these horrific practices.

But before he can get back to his room, the king makes him an offer that he is entirely unprepared for. He has taken such a liking to Jaskier that he offers to send the champion up to his room.

That is when Jaskier learns that the royal ladies (and some of the men) take great pride in partaking of the warrior after a match. It is the highest honor.

It's partly his beautiful physique. They have special clothing made up for him that resembles his armor, but offers more access. It's partly the danger and the thrill of conquering such a violent beast. They bind him and they station guards close by so he can't retaliate. But the thought that he could kill them with the twist of a wrist is part of the appeal. It is also partly the exclusivity. The entire kingdom loses their mind for this warrior, but it is only they who have access to him. It gives these wealthy, bored, royals a rare thrill.

When his host explains all of this, Jaskier's stomach drops almost to the soles of his shoes. His first instinct is to be outraged. To say no. His kingdom has done away with bed warmers and...well...sex slaves, really. He has been brought up to believe that ravaging someone, anyone, is a base, cruel, horrible thing to do.

So he almost says no. He almost shouts it. Frankly, he would like to slap the king across his smug beastly face. Obviously he can't do that. But he wants to. But then a thought flickers across his mind. If he says no, then this warrior will be sent to someone else. And who knows who that person will be and what they will do to him.

Jaskier feels sick to his stomach when he accepts the king's offer. He hopes his disgust isn't apparent. He tries to make it sound lusty. To his own ears, he fails at it. Besides his disgust for the idea, he is also incredibly inexperienced. If he has to feign an intimate understanding of the specifics of sex, he'll reveal himself to be the young amateur that he is.

But the king is so drunken and self absorbed that he doesn't even notice. He claps Jaskier on the back, calls him my boy, and motions to his guards. The guards jump to attention. The king points down to the arena at the warrior. The warrior is slick with sweat and blood and grime. He is quietly cleaning his sword with a far away look on his face. The cheers of the crowd weigh on him.

Just then, the warrior looks up at Jaskier. His golden eyes feel like a punch to the solar plexus. He sees what is happening. He knows who is being conferred the honor of his body tonight.

Jaskier wants to mouth an apology. To explain himself. Of course he can't. They are too far apart and there is too much noise between them. Besides. Jaskier is currently pretending to be into this. But his eyes slide away guiltily. He feels queasy and he is regretting the wine right about now.

The king asks Jaskier if he wants the warrior grimy or clean. They can bathe him before they send him up, or they can just walk him up as he is, for a more authentic experience. Jaskier feels a cold fury bubbling inside. He shoves it down. He says to send him as he is. Jaskier will draw a bath in his own room and give the gladiator privacy.

The king makes a crude joke about Jaskier liking it dirty, and he almost bites through his tongue in order to hold it. He tastes copper.

Soon, Jaskier is alone in his room, pacing the marble floors, clenching and unclenching his fists. He is deep in concentration, trying to figure out how to play this. When the guards bring the warrior, will they leave? Or will they insist on staying close by? How will Jaskier hide his true intentions from them? Whatever they see, they will undoubtedly report to the king.

Jaskier chews his bottom lip and whispers to himself, practicing what he will say to the warrior if he can get them alone.

You'll be safe tonight.

You don't have to do anything.

Would you like to bathe yourself? I won't look.

See the full post

1,850 notes - Posted May 20, 2022

Geralt, who has lost his swords: I need those specific swords back.

Dandelion: Oh, just buy new ones.

Geralt: Oh rly and what if someone took your lute?

Dandelion: OH GOD WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT IS SOMEONE LOOKING AT MY LUTE OH SHIT WHAT HAVE YOU HEARD NO ONE LOOK AT MY LUTE YOU FUCKERS*covers lute with body like a human shield*

😂😂 they are hilarious. Also, Geralt saying he feels like a snail without a shell is adorable.

1,924 notes - Posted August 27, 2022

Ok let's play a game called:

I Can't Believe It's Not Fanon.

Otherwise known as...

Witcher facts that sound like Geraskier fic writers made them up, but that are, in fact, book canon.

PART ONE:

We've all read the fics where bad guys kidnap Jaskier in order to get to get to Geralt. These bad guys always regret it when Geralt slaughters every single one of them.

Well, good news! In Season of Storms, starting on page 310, this very thing happens.

(TW: Violence and gore)

Geralt is attending a royal wedding and once again, powerful people are trying to get him to do something he doesn't want to do. He enters a room to find:

Dandelion was as white as a sheet and clearly terrified...He was sitting on a chair with a high backrest. Behind the chair stood a skinny character with hair combed and plaited into a queue. The character was holding a misericorde with a long, narrow, four-sided blade. The blade was pressed against the poet's neck, below his jaw, slanting upwards.

"No funny business," warned Ropp. No funny business witcher. One false move, even one twitch, and Mr Samsa will stick the minstrel like a hog. He won't hesitate."

So, these particular assholes have accurately surmised that Geralt's weakness is Dandelion. There were any number of people they could have kidnapped, but they chose the poet. Of course, they underestimate Geralt, like so many people do.

Geralt tries to warn them that this is a very very bad move.

"You're making a mistake, Ropp."

They don't listen to him. They keep going, making increasingly florid violent threats to Dandelion's safety.

"Now," said the captain..."Now you will confirm that you've understood the task and will execute it. Should you not, before I count to ten under my breath, Mr Samsa will rupture the minstrel's right eardrum...if the desired result does not ensure, Mr Samsa stabs the other ear. And will then gouge out the poet's eye. And so on, to the bitter end, which is a jab to the brain. I'm starting to count, witcher."

What does Dandelion do? Well, he's terrified but he tries to be brave.

"Don't listen to him Geralt!" Dandelion somehow managed to make a sound from his constricted throat. "They won't dare to touch me! I'm famous!"

This is hilarious and very, very Dandelion. But also, it's not entirely unreasonable. Dandelion's fame often protects him, and sometimes it protects Geralt too. However, it doesn’t seem to be doing either at the moment.

Geralt says to Mister Samsa:

"First, move that dagger away from the poet's ear."

Mister Samsa seems to think that they have succeeded and Geralt is negotiating with him, so he complies. (this guy makes one bad decision after another)

"Ha," snorted Mister Samsa, lifting the misericorde high over his head. "Is that better?"

Geralt simply answers:

"Better."

Then without another word, Geralt kills them all, violent and bloody. It is a descriptive, vividly gory passage. He slices carotid arteries and groins. One man's neck spews blood onto the chandelier and ceiling. But I find what Geralt does to Mister Samsa to be particularly significant and satisfying.

The Witcher jerked the sword from the scabbard before Ropp fell, and with one fluid movement coming out of a short spin, hacked off Samsa's raised hand. Samsa yelled and dropped to his knees.

So Geralt’s actions say...you use your hand to hold a blade to *my* poet's neck, and I will chop that motherfucker off. Let's see you do that again without a hand, you piece of shit.

It's a gory passage. I'll skip to the end. The royal instigator comes into the room to investigate and asks Geralt about the one man he has left (sort of, temporarily) alive.

The instigator examined the captain, who was lying, stretched out in a pool of urine, salivating copiously, and trembling incessantly.

See the full post

2,203 notes - Posted May 3, 2022

It’s doing bizarrely well on Twitter so I’m bringing it over here.

6,071 notes - Posted October 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Blackbeard: I’m bored as fuck and no one understands me.

Stede: *appears in a silk nightie. Is weird as all fuck* Do you want to talk about fabrics?

Blackbeard: *under breath* Fuck yes

6,280 notes - Posted April 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #the witcher

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fideidefenswhore · 1 year

Note

i was just reading your giles tremlett post and at the end you say anne boleyn didn't say "the cursed bastard that she was" about mary and it was added later, maybe even shifting what henry said onto anne after she was dead to smooth the situation over. Is that true? Cause the whole "anne said mean things!" line seems to rest on that. thanks.

oh, yeah, no, i often half-finish my train of thought on tags, bad habit, sorry.

it depends on the translation/book but regardless it's always une mauldicte bastarde (a/n ac/cursed bastard), the latest of the BHO being "as a cursed bastard", not "as the cursed bastard she was". more about that specific, infamous dispatch here.

my point was more that a very similar quote of henry's is not often cited , because it doesn't gel with the popular narrative of these dynamics:

Here the King explained to him what had been done by Parliament since the Admiral's departure; that the Princess had been proclaimed and an oath taken throughout the kingdom; that everyone takes Mary for the bastard she is, and he will have no other heir but the Princess, with whom, and in his power (en sa main), now is and will be the said Mary; there is no chance of her becoming queen or claiming any right to the Crown.

Gontier then attempts to negotiate, will Henry forgive the French pension paid to him?

Henry took this ill, saying that he had done so much for Francis, his children and his kingdom, that it is not fair to ask him to give this up [...] it is an honour to his kingdom to have them; it was a strange recompense when he offered the heiress of a kingdom to a younger son; they ought rather to give him something than ask

often the above quote and other similar ones in support of elizabeth as heiress, too, against his eldest daughter and her mother (”regard for the state of his own kingdom and the love he bears his Queen and her daughter the Princess, and his anxiety to protect their honor against the illwill of the Emperor, prevent his leaving the kingdom without taking measures for their security, for if the King leave the kingdom he would leave behind him another daughter, and her mother also, who with their friends might intrigue against them”), are ignored in favor of:

The French ambassador told me that the King, on returning from a visit to his new daughter, said that he had not spoken to the Princess on account of her obstinacy [...] and when the ambassador remarked that she had been very well brought up, the tears came into his eyes, and he could not refrain from praising her

leaving aside that the dispatch above ends with an assertion that the earl of northumberland has informed chapuys that anne is determined to poison her stepdaughter; given that chapuys is apparently quoting the french ambassador here (not to mention the unlikelihood of this interaction in context... if henry had spoken harshly against mary, it would be rather impolitic to reply that she had been 'very well brought up', no? particularly since henry is complaining of her defiance, that would more likely than not be taken as blatant disrespect), it's interesting to note that nothing of the sort is noted in the dispatches of the french ambassador himself, and that this is instead what he reports:

In the end he made answer to me, that, as to his daughter Mary, he intended always to treat that matter as a thing of no importance, and that I must say nothing more about it; adding that he was very much displeased with her, because she would rather die than acknowledge the present Queen as Queen, or the daughter of this marriage as Princess, but that he would take care to punish her. To judge by his words, he hates her thoroughly.

it was such a brief window of time in which henry defended elizabeth's position as heiress and unequivocally supported her and anne, i get that what happens here eventually is sort of read backwards into that brief period of time, but i really do wish there was a less opaque and more vigorous assessment of the primary sources of this time, and that they weren't so chapuys-centric....chapuys was not infallible, and he certainly wasn’t the only source on henry.

#i wouldn't say it rests only on that but it does rest on pretty much only one source at the time (chapuys)#anon #the negotiations sent for the marriage at this time given to envoys are also basically the same; elizabeth is heiress to the kingdom;#they should give their gratitude that henry was even considering the betrothal; etc #i don't know how that last one is marked as march 1533 when he mentions elizabeth lol; it has to be march 1534...#which again. either contradicts or happens to omit any equivocation on henry's part #re: mary

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akampana · 2 years

Note

“ look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel something for me."

“ don’t let this one go. he’s perfect for you. “

“ do you think that this, us… do you think it could ever… be something more? “

Either of these for Beditoria mayhaps? Feel free to choose!

(A/N) Went with the third one. :> Also, I've always wondered how it would be if the FSN Bedi made it to Chaldea, so I hope you don't mind that the plot of this one is based on that idea.

feelings never fade____________

Words: 1.5k

Characters: Bedivere | Saber, Artoria Pendragon | Saber

Ship: Beditoria

Tags: Pining, Love confessions

Bedivere never liked when others called him brave. ‘Twas supposed to be the highest compliment; an honor to a Knight of the Round Table such as himself, but the word had never sat right with him. To be called brave was to wear an ill-fitting glove: uncomfortable at best, perilous at worst. And while he trusted himself to take care in his conduct, there was no getting away from the unpleasantness he felt when being associated with the word.

A brave man’s heart did not startle. His diction did not waver. There was no retreat in his horizon, nor was there surrender. A brave man never slumped in posture. A brave man never lost his composure when faced by adversity. He did not stutter. His cheeks did not pale.

Especially when ‘adversity’ was confessing to the one he loved.

Time and time again, Bedivere had tried. The first time, the Round Table had merely consisted of her, Merlin, Kay, and himself. But then, she met Lancelot, and with their newest addition keeping them all busy, he pushed his feelings to the back of his mind, dismissing it as a mere passing fancy.

The second, she was already wearing the crown, slowly shaping Camelot into the kingdom they dreamed it could be. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten that the shining castle they envisioned also contained a queen. His emotions scratched and scraped at his throat as he swallowed them. He faulted himself. No one should dare to hope of something that could not be.

Bedivere’s final attempt came at her deathbed, his mouth failing to muster any of the carefully prepared words he’d put together as he delayed tossing Excalibur to the lake.

He returned once, a lie on his lips instead of his confession.

He returned a second time, another disloyalty on his tongue instead of his confession.

Tears burned at his eyes, from grief, guilt, and the pressing demands of regret. He couldn’t prolong his king’s suffering for such a selfish act as voicing his unrequited love.

When he returned the third time, Excalibur was gone. And moments later, so was she.

He grew old knowing they were never going to meet again. His feelings would forever go unheard, except by the tree where she died, to which he had whispered his love for Arturia Pendragon til he, too, gave up the ghost.

It was nothing short of a miracle, this Chaldea.

He doubted he deserved to be resurrected alongside the others here. Merlin, Galahad, Gaheris, Gawain and even Kay…these were all faces he believed would exist only in the memories of a soul. Even Agravain was in attendance, and while Bedivere had always been wary of the man, he could not deny that for what may be the first time, it was pleasant to see him.

But there too, standing as perfectly poised and calm as usual, was his beloved king. She looked up at him with a smile like the sun that melted winter into spring, her green eyes so damnedly clear. It was at that moment he truly felt reborn, his heart beating heavily against his chest as a flush colored his face. Now. He had to tell her now. He’d missed his chance so many times back when they were alive, but now he had nothing to lose.

Bedivere was not a brave man.

…

Arturia’s third lease on life came with many realizations. Fortunately, her incarnations had done irreversible change to her soul, such that in this life she still remembered the events of the Holy Grail Wars she participated in, and everything those experiences taught her. It made this incarnation lighter, unburdened. It wasn’t even for a wish that she’d accepted Ritsuka’s summoning. She had no wishes to make anymore. Master had asked for her help, and she’d answered. It was as simple as that.

That Kay hugged her to his chest as she materialized was a mere bonus. She had no idea that she would have the chance to see him again, nor the chance to meet her nephews, who had all stood steadfast by her side til their bitter end. Surprisingly, there appeared Merlin, who in his own twisted way, had always been her ally.

And after some time, after using herself as a catalyst had brought about many failures, bathed in golden light stood the first knight she’d ever recruited, who’d observed her rule from start to finish, yet never wavered. Not even once.

When their eyes locked, it was like the world had come to a standstill, as if bowing to the magnitude of the moment between the blondes. Something inside her burst into flame like a hearth reignited, spreading sunny warmth across her skin. She couldn’t breathe, or maintain that practiced kingly facade of hers. Arturia did not think or move, even as the rest of her knights rushed out to greet the new arrival. She couldn’t even control the stupid smile that painted itself onto her face. How could she?

She’d suddenly gained a second purpose.

“Bedivere…” she called fondly, expression so soft she looked like a smitten maiden.

He knelt in front of her like he’d always done, taking her hand in his left instead of his prosthetic, and kissed her knuckles.

That day, the Knights of the Round Table bore witness to something that in the back of their minds they’d always suspected. In hindsight, they should have known. There was never, and there never would be, someone that mattered more to Bedivere than their dearest king.

After that, there was never a day the king was without her loyal knight. It was like there was a gravity between them, one so potent it demanded they cross paths at least once before the next dawn. And even though the pair never spoke of it, the Camelot knights knew something had changed between them; something that had been stubbornly kept at bay when they were alive, but now had been set free.

Because now, she was the ruler of a kingdom long lost, and he a knight of an order long perished. Their titles were no longer a barrier. They had no duties to uphold. What remained were feelings, which obstinately stood the test of time. All they needed was a little courage to face them.

“Bollocks,” cursed Kay, bearing witness to Bedivere’s fingers faltering before he locked them with his sister’s. She was gone right after, summoned for a mission Kay knew could be delayed.

He placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder, twirling him around till he could glare into the timid one’s blue eyes.

“Tell her, Bedi,” he urged, something like surrender swirling in his brown orbs, because Kay had known the longest. Because Bedivere had stayed when Kay hadn’t. Because if anyone in the whole world deserved her love, it was Bedi. Because he knew she’d be happy. Because–

“Please. Are you really going to let the chance pass?”

Bedivere gently shrugged him off. Kay could only hope he’d gotten through to him, because…because he feared someone unworthy would take her away. Many of his comrades were here. Who’s to say who came through next?

It was gravity again that brought Bedivere to the Command Room, eagerly awaiting his king’s return. There was something in his chest that swelled like a balloon with each enemy that she felled on the display, as if it could sense that her return drew ever nearer. His heart was beating like a drum, the tempo accelerating as the Rayshift began. Kay had been right. He couldn’t let this chance slip away.

Bedivere closed his eyes, knowing when he opened them he’d be faced with a task more intimidating than even the beasts he used to slay back in Britain.

But when she filled his vision, he wasn’t overcome by nerves as he usually was, nor out of breath. She approached, but he was calm, warmly smiling as she joined him in the corner of the room.

“Bedi–”

The knight swept her hand up for a kiss, but this time, he kept their fingers intertwined. Warmth spread from where they touched, all the way down to his toes. It felt like heaven looking into her eyes, seeing himself reflected in them. He wished he’d been this courageous sooner.

His hand clutching hers tighter, he steeled his resolve and asked, “ Do you think that this, us…do you think it could ever…be something more?”

Bedivere didn’t even care that he’d stuttered. He didn’t care that he wasn’t enunciating his feelings as clearly as he dreamt he would. He’d have more chances to show her he loved her, no matter what she answered. The knight loved her as long as he lived, he wasn’t going to stop, even if he had to do so from afar. But in the small chance she held the slightest bit of feelings for him, then–

Her fingers tightened around his. “I believe it’s always been…something more,” she admitted, her cheeks reddening in time with his. “I just wasn’t brave enough to acknowledge it.”

_______

heya! hope you don't mind this is so late.

The FGO Camelot Singularity is actually my favorite one, and IMO the HARDEST ONE HOLYFSHIT, but as much as I love Bedi over there, I've always sort of contemplated what happened to the FSN Bedivere, whose tiny bit of content started my Beditoria journey in the first place.

I wonder if he knows another version of him found her again. And that that other version loves her just the same.

-akampana

#oblivious idiots asks #akampana asks #beditoria #bedivere #fate #fgo #fate grand order #arturia pendragon #saber #artoria pendragon #arturia #my writing #fanfic #fate fanfic

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cadaverschaoss · 4 months

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"Why won't anyone..."

"...Let me die?"

Character’s full name:

Aguni Morizono

Character’s nickname:

The General

Reason for nickname:

Was a general in the army, general of the militants

Birth date:

6/21/87

Physical appearance

Age:

Eye color:

Brown

Distinguishing marks:

Scar across his eye

Hair color:

Black

Hairstyle:

Buzzcut

Usual fashion of dress:

Favorite outfit:

Personality

Good personality traits:

Structured, Alert, Honest, Focused, Self Sufficient, Honorable

Bad personality traits:

Destructive, Violent, Brutal, Stubborn

Mood character is most often in:

Grumpy

Sense of humor:

Pretends he doesn't have one but always laughs at hatters jokes

Character’s greatest joy in life:

His daughter, @angelicaisaka

Character’s greatest fear:

Losing his daughter

Why?

She's the only thing he has left from his late wife

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil?

His daughters death

Character is most at ease when:

His daughter is safe

Most ill at ease when:

His daughter is playing a game

Enraged when:

Hatter goes crazy, Aisaka gets hurt

Depressed or sad when:

Hatter dies

Priorities:

Aisaka, Hatter, Militants. In that order

Life philosophy:

N/A

If granted one wish, it would be:

To get out alive

Why?

So he can see his daughter grow up

Character’s soft spot:

@angelicaisaka

Is this soft spot obvious to others?

Yes

Greatest strength:

Also @angelicaisaka

Greatest vulnerability or weakness:

Full circle back to his daughter Asiaka

Biggest regret:

Not holding his wife's hand when she died

Minor regret:

Having his daughter have to go to the hospital so much in her youth

Biggest accomplishment:

Being a good dad

Minor accomplishment:

Being a good friend to hatter

Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about:

Dead wife

Why?

He feels it was his fault for not being able to afford the proper medical care for her

Character’s darkest secret:

Met his wife through a gang, it's more his late wife's biggest secret but it's now his to carry

Does anyone else know?

Hatter

Goals

Get home with his family (Aisaka, hatter, niragi being the son he never had)

Drives and motivations:

Aisaka

Immediate goals:

Beat the games

Long term goals:

Get home, watch his daughter get married, maybe a few grandkids

How the character plans to accomplish these goals:

Beating the games

How other characters will be affected:

They will also get to go home

Past

Hometown:

N/A

Type of childhood:

Abusive

Pets:

A dog named Hachi (Aisaka brought him home and aguni couldn't tell her no)

First memory:

His first memory was with his mother, all he remembers from it is her smiling at him

Most important childhood memory:

When his father first beat him badly,

Why:

it was the day he swore he'd never raise a hand or his voice at his own children if he ever had any.

Childhood hero:

The leader of the gang he joined when he was 14

Dream job:

Something simple like a woodshop teacher

Education:

GED, military experience

Religion:

N/A

Finances:

Poor

Present

Current location:

Shibuya

Currently living with:

His daughter

Pets:

1 dog

Religion:

N/A

Occupation:

Yakuza member

Finances:

Still poor but not as bad off

Family

Mother:

Deceased

Relationship with her:

Father:

Deceased

Relationship with him:

Terrible

Siblings:

None

Relationship with them:

N/A

Spouse:

Ayaka Morizono (deceased)

Relationship with him/her:

Very close

Children:

Aisaka Morizono

Relationship with them:

Very close

Other important family members:

N/A

Favorites

Color:

Sage Green

Least favorite color:

Vibrant red

Music:

Rock

Food:

Pancakes

Literature:

Delores Clairborn by Stephen King

Form of entertainment:

Reading

Expressions:

N/A

Mode of transportation:

His motorbike

Most prized possession:

The dog tags his wife gave back to him before she died

Habits

Smokes:

Hobbies:

Gardening, working on his motorbike

How he/she would spend a rainy day:

Sitting at home listening to the rain while making hot chocolate for him and his daughter

Spending habits:

Frugal

cigarettes, occasionally and never around aisaka

Drinks:

Nope

Other drugs:

Nope

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blackbutterflypriestess · 4 months

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Tag Game: 9 Favorite Characters

Every time I escape the hole @pillowfriendly is there to pull me back in. Stole her rules of sticking to one character per franchise.

Daeran Arendae - Wrath of the Righteous

Hedonist. Ethically bankrupt. Walking problematic. I love him. Best romance subplot in an rpg as he actually tries to woo the player. Love doesn't change him but he changes for love. When he ascends to godhood he actively ignores prayers but smites those who talk any shit about his spouse. Has a traumatic backstory as expected but doesn't neuter his character or development.

Bayonetta - Bayonetta

Tells all the gods above and the demons below to fuck off with a combination of high caliber and fem. There has always been a lot of discourse around her but I honest love that there's a female character whose femininity solely for herself and not in-spite of how much ass she kicks. She's an icon and I wish I could pull off purple eye shadow like that.

Raven - Gravity Rush

Goth girl with the power to manipulate gravity's effect on her and the surrounding area. Not super complex as a character but something about her design and dead-pan personality has always stuck with me. Also has a great enemies to not-explicit-but-I-mean-come-on-it's-obviously-sapphic-coded relationship with the main character Kat.

A2 - Nier Automata

Definition of suffering from success. The only survivor of the ill-fated YoRHa Pear Harbor descents and so good at her job that future YoRHa models were based on her. Absolutely lost her shit when her girlfriend died and began a one-woman crusade against the machine beings. We stan a woman with goals. When other characters are blowing themselves (and their skirts) up as their ultimate move, A2 just goes sicko mode. We're introduced to her when she murders a baby but does it count if the baby was also a robot and also super old? I will never forgive FFXIV for not including her in the Shadowbringers raid story.

Balalaika - Black Lagoon

Afghan War USSR Sniper turned leader of the Russian mob in Thailand. Is and always will be my go to template for the "motherly villain" archetype. I believe that scientifically they are known as the "Dommy Mommy." Watching unambiguously evil characters still be humans is always fun.

Leon S. Kennedy - Resident Evil

Our baby boy. Even when he's super-serious-government-agent-man he just serves so much golden retriever energy. Resident Evil is at its best when it treats the zombie survival scenario seriously but adds a dash of levity and one-liners to its characters. Leon embodies that.

Beatrice - Umineko no Naku Koro Ni

Beatrice is the culmination of my weird addiction to characters with unhealthy love languages. Reality warping witch born from the existentialism that comes with trauma that plays horrific death games with the family of the man she loves all as a means to communicate with him where words fail? Yes please.

Faith Connors - Mirror's Edge

Mirror's Edge is one of my favorite games of all time. The use of color, sound effects, and music always made me feel like I was seeing The City specifically as Faith sees it. This connection created a deeper bond and feeling of embodiment than other first-person games, especially at that time. Her story may not be the deepest or most complex but is so memorable. Plus I still really want her tattoo. The King in Yellow/Hastur - Various Horror Contexts

There's something so fascinating about the horror of The King in Yellow. Consumption brought on by enui, the loss of an artist to unreality, the fear that a single, sound, word, symbol, or thought could poison and entire society. Remember! DONT. SAY. HIS. NAME. Honorable Mentions:

The Princess - Slay the Princess Eda - Black Lagoon Monica - Hooky Neon Red - Neon White I have now completed my eldritch bargain with @pillowfriendly. @gunkreads I don't know if you fully comprehend what you have awoken. @iwishtobeafish, @notimpossibell, @crowbandit your ritual sacrifices are required.

#harder than I thought #first long post #Oh god I hope I formatted all this correctly #I guess my fairy tale ending is a fucked up love story

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platypanthewriter · 3 years

Text

AUgust prompts!

Image text under the cut!

1. Superpower AU (Marvel/DC/power rangers/Sailor Moon/secret identities)

2. Darkside AU (murder boyfriends/villainy/monsters/possession)

3. Kink AU Sub/dom stuff, sex clubs, kink discovery

4. Profession AU (mechanic/lifeguard/tattoo artist/flowershop/doctor/chef/fireman/musicians/band/fashion--go wild)

5. Historic or Fantasy AU (Pirates/Princess Bride/Lord of the Rings/Avatar the Last Airbender)

6. Fairytale AU (princes/dragons/curses/good fairies, retellings of traditional tales/traditional themes)

7. Detective/Crime AU (mystery/buddy cops/investigation/Film Noir/Mafia)

8. Asian Drama/Martial Arts Drama AU (Untamed/Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon/Rookie Historian/Word of Honor, anything goes!)

9. Spies or heist AU (secret identities again if you like! James Bond, Leverage, Oceans 8, gadgets and plots)

10. Classic play/novel AU (Shakespeare/Jane Austen and modernizations like 10 Things I Hate About You/Clueless/don’t forget Pride and Prejudice/Dickens/whatever)

11. Monster/Huge Robot AU (Pacific Rim/Jurassic Park/Godzilla/Transformers)

12. Magic/Witches/Wizards AU (Harry Potter/Hocus Pocus/familiars/curses/daemons/body changes or swaps/hanahaki disease)

13. Natural disaster/Nature survival AU (volcanos/earthquakes/lost/Tarzan/living in the wilderness/dogsledding/mountain climbers)

14. Modern horror AU (Supernatural/Teen Wolf/Buffy the Vampire Slayer/weres/demons/hunters/zombies)

15. Queer Subculture AU (Gay/straight alliance clubs at school, drag, gender-non-conforming characters as the focus/Stonewall/protests)

16. Athlete AU (skaters/baseball players/skiiers/roller derby Robin/coaches for kids or each other)

17. Future/sci-fi AU (Terminator/5th Element/Blade Runner/Matrix/Jupiter Ascending etc.)

18. Stripper/pole dancer/burlesque/sex worker AU

19. Creatures AU (Fairies/mermaids/creatures not in a horror setting)

20. School AU (college/university/pranks/gradeschool/middleschool/drama class/school sports teams)

21. Classic Movie AU (Victor/Victoria, Ghost and Mrs. Muir, Some Like It Hot, Miyazaki movies, Coraline, Nightmare Before Christmas, comedies/musicals/anything)

22. Soulmates/ABO/Destiny/Red Strings AU

23. Animals AU (zoo workers/trainers/pet owners/characters as animals/horseback riding)

24. Historical AU (cowboys/musketeers/Babylonian royals/politics/soldiers/anything you like)

25. Kidfic AU Childhood friends or sweethearts/parents/babysitting/adoption

26. Mythology/gods/cryptids/urban legends AU (Also includes Lara Croft/Indiana Jones/American Gods/Percy Jackson)

27. Stranded together/forced proximity AU (paired up for work/ stranded/blind dates/project together/fake dating/arranged marriage/handcuffed/deserted island/in the Upside-Down/roommates)

28. Injury/disability/illness/dreamscape AU (Amnesia/injury aftereffects/barely survived/coma/hallucination/questioning reality)

29. Canon-adjacent AU (change one thing from canon, like gender/soulmates exist/an event/a death)

30. Internet/fandom AU (chat rooms/catfishing/texting/social media/Twitch/Onlyfans/early fansites/cons/cosplay)

31. TV Show AU (Star Trek/Baywatch/anime/Doctor Who/anything you like)

Alternates:

Apocalypse AU (zombies/bombs/post-natural disaster/aliens/Annihilation)

80’s movies AU (Gremlins/Lost Boys/Stand By Me/Goonies/Ghostbusters, Spielberg/Stephen King, Karate Kid/Cobra Kai, anything with an 80’s vibe=fair game! Google “movies released in the 80’s” and blow your mind)

RULES:

Anything goes, use these however you like to make whatever you’d like! Do some, do all, or just enjoy the stuff other people make! Tag your work HarringroveAUgust and reblog what you like! We’ll make a HarringroveAUgust collection on Ao3, I’ll make a link later. Add whatever you want! This is generally a Stranger Things fandom thing, but everybody’s welcome!

Have fun!

tagging @ihni and @cherrydreamer, my enablers (fixed at Ihni’s excellent tag suggestion!)

#Go to y'all #HarringroveAUgust

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currently-kraken · 3 years

Text

Theon Greyjoy’s Costumes by Michele Clapton

I saw a post that asked about a piece of Theon’s clothing and I wanted to see if I could help with this. I have Michele Clapton’s Game of Thrones: The Costumes book so I thought I’d share the info and pics (some from the internet, others from the pics of the book my low res phone can provide lol) for Theon (+ Yara) for whoever needs it :)

1. Theon (Alfie Allen) wears an ornate doublet intended to indicate that he is rather conceited.

At the beginning of the story, Theon (Alfie Allen) is full of himself—a weak, unpleasant boy who bears a grudge against Ned Stark for making him his ward and taking him away from the Iron Islands. That sense of having been wronged by the Starks compels him to make terrible choices. He leads an assault on Winterfell in the name of the Greyjoys but later loses control of the Stark homestead to the sadistic Ramsay Bolton (Iwan Rheon). Theon pays an unimaginable price for his failings.

Initially, Theon's costume has elements of the classic Stark look but in the Greyjoys’ colors—his loyalties divided from the start. In early episodes, he wears an overly ornate doublet that hints at his pretentiousness and sense of entitlement, but his cloak is thin and his collar is a simple one made from rabbit fur. He wears a Stark shirt underneath his doublet.

2. Theon’s (Allen) cloak is thin and made from lesser materials, indicating that, as a ward, he isn’t as well cared for as the members of the family who are related by blood.

3. Theon (Allen) may look like a Stark, but his loyalties are divided—his cloak features the Greyjoy kraken sigil.

Theon is taken prisoner by Ramsay later in the storyline and subjected to horrific tortures that fundamentally change his character. To humiliate Theon, Ramsay renames him Reek and dresses him in the same manner as the rest of the servants in Winterfell. He wears a long, apron-shaped tunic made from layers of ragged linen. His finery—and his nobility—are stripped away entirely. But during Ramsay’s wedding to Sansa, Theon is dressed in an outfit that gives a slight nod to his former status. Theon wears somber tones of gray and black with a silhouette that’s very traditionally Stark. He’s also wearing brocade, which is a callback to Catelyn’s Stark’s influence, but Theon’s fabric doublet is shorter than in should be. The fact that it’s slightly ill-fitting makes him appear more servile, the poor tailoring indicating his low status.

4. Theon’s “Reek” costume is made from ragged layers of black linen.

5. As “Reek”, actor Alfie Allen wears a simple collar around his neck to emphasize his subservient status.

6. For Sansa’s wedding to Ramsay, Theon (Alfie Allen) wears a finely tailored brown doublet; his shirt sleeves and his cloak are both made from brocade, an homage to Catelyn Stark.

7. The costume includes a brocade cloak with cross-body straps and an embossed brown leather belt.

After Theon escapes from Ramsay, he begins to reclaim his identity as a son of the Iron Islands. Most notably, he adopts a much more traditional Greyjoy costume that includes a doublet prominently featuring the house sigil, the kraken, a suitably intimidating sea monster. As with all the Greyjoys, we slashed a very graphic kraken image directly into Theon’s armor—I wanted it to look like something they might do themselves using a blade. Still, the Stark influence can be found in the straps near the neck of his armor. The colors, too, denote his allegiance: Instead of rocky gray, he’s in Northern brown and black. Theon is willing to atone for his past mistakes and sacrifice everything to regain his honor—which he does in the end, giving his life to defend Bran from the Night King.

8. TOP Theon (Alfie Allen) embraces his Iron Islands heritage with a costume that includes all the hallmarks of the Greyjoy look.

9. BOTTOM The Greyjoy kraken sigil adorns his belt.

10. LEFT This costume features Theon’s traditional Greyjoy cloak, which is essentially made from a rectangle of waxed cloth.

11. TOP RIGHT The kraken sigil is prominently featured on Theon’s doublet, the symbol appearing as though it has been slashed into the leather.

12. BOTTOM RIGHT The kraken appears once more on Theon’s scabbard.

BONUS: YARA

13. Gemma Whelan as Yara Greyjoy.

Theon’s sister, Yara (Gemma Whelan), is a natural-born warrior who embraces every aspect of the Greyjoy way of life—she is determined to follow in her father’s footsteps and rule over the Iron Islands from the Salt Throne on Pyke. She grew up entirely apart from Theon—they are essentially strangers when they meet as adults—but nevertheless the love she feels for him is profound. Even when Theon seems completely lost to her, Yara goes to great lengths to save him, acting out of honor, duty and compassion.

Whenever she appears on-screen, Yara is dressed in some version of the primary costume that I designed for her. As a true Greyjoy, her wardrobe would have changed little, so her clothing always remained consistent. The waxed fabric of her doublet is the color of stone and features the standard Iron Islands lacing. She wears lived-in leather trousers that were broken down and aged to give the impression that she rarely takes them off. She has very high boots that stop above her knee. I wanted her to have swagger, and giving her these high leather boots changed her gait in a way that says a great deal about the character. She walks with an attitude and is cool and confident. The boots were also suitably practical for an experienced captain who often finds herself at the center of armed conflict.

Yara’s costumes are quite androgynous. She dresses in a similar fashion to the men of Pyke, which felt like a logical choice for someone who commands a fleet of men. Ironborn sailors wouldn’t follow a woman who appeared overtly feminine, even one as intelligent and fierce as Yara. She would always have to project strength because weakness is anathema to her people. Her strength is really unassailable—you can see it in her actions and in her costumes as well.

14. Yara’s long-sleeved doublet and trousers are made from waxed linen to appear waterproof.

15. OPPOSITE TOP LEFT Yara’s doublet is intended to be the same color as the Iron Islands themselves and is closed with waxed laces that appear waterproof.

16. OPPOSITE CENTER LEFT Shoulder detail of Yara’s doublet.

17. OPPOSITE BOTTOM LEFT Close-up of the laces used to tie the doublet, which was studded with metal for protection.

18. OPPOSITE RIGHT Yara’s (Whelan) signature look includes striking boots that go over her knees.

Tagging the people on the original post @sing-for-theongreyjoy @selkiewife @attaining-fic @robbeonsa

Hope this helps, guys!! 😁🦑

#Game of Thrones #Costume Design #Michele Clapton #Theon Greyjoy #Yara Greyjoy #Greyjoys #Ironborn #Alfie Allen #Gemma Whelan #Squid Squad

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tetsurouskuro · 4 years

Text

Jealousy

pairing: oikawa tooru x fem!reader

warnings: a bit of angst?, fluff, smut, sensory sex, blindfold, fingering, squirting, slight bondage

word count: 3,614

tag list: @myherowritings @iwaqchan (message me if you want to be added)

a/n: i just wanted some nice boyfriend oikawa but still keep it smutty! i wrote this in like a day and i hope you guys like it! feedback is always appreciated <3

Synopsis: You get angsty and jealous when Tooru can’t spend time with you and keeps on talking to other girls in his class. He then decides to show you how much he loves you by letting you feel his love...

MASTERLIST!

≫ —– ≪·•♕•·≫ —– ≪

Boys at both school and outside of it had always ignored you, just like you ignored them. You minded your own business, and so did they.

Until you started high school. It was all fine and dandy in the beginning, but suddenly you started getting attention from boys. At first you thought it was only temporary as you did not pay them any attention and, in your head, it was simply because you started to become a woman and develop breast.

It was in the beginning of your second year of high school when a particular brown-haired boy started paying attention to you. Flirting and giving you compliments (which made you blush) but you also knew he was a player. A womanizer, or that is what the rumors said at least.

You tried to ignore him as he had girls follow him everywhere he went, like a pack of horny lionesses waiting to jump on their king. But he didn’t pay them as much attention as he did with you. He was stubborn to get you and after what felt like you had declined him for the hundred time you finally agreed on one date, just one.

But one soon turned into two and two turned into three and suddenly you were dating. You and the most popular guy in school: Oikawa Tooru.

Since he had a reputation you took it slow and he did not complain. He was willing to do anything for you and for that you were grateful. He opened up to you and talked about everything that went on in that pretty mind of his and you learned quickly that he was very dedicated to his sport and that he was skillful at it.

Soon enough you appeared at every game he had, cheering on him and his teammates. You loved how cocky he looked and was when he played. He had an aura surrounding him with both talent and leadership.

Just when you were about to go on summer vacation, he was chosen to be the next captain and he was both honored and happy, not surprised. He knew it was coming. The both of you having almost been together for a year you decided to gift him yourself. Having him being your first and it was worth the wait, for the both of you.

Soon summer was over, and you were back to school once again. This year he was going to be super busy with practice, more than before. He loved you, of course he did you were the love of his life now, but he also loved volleyball.

“When can I see you?” you had asked on the phone, late one evening.

“I don’t know. I have practice again tomorrow and then I need to study for a test.”

“Yes, of course. Volleyball and school come first.” You tried to sound happy on the phone while speaking, but in reality, you were hurting, and you felt silly because he had a life beside you.

“I miss you though. Never forget that.”

“I won’t, and I miss you too Tooru.”

“Fuck. I want talk more, but I need to go. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yes. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back just as he hangs up the phone. You fist your shirt in your hands, both angry and hurt at that you cannot spend as much time with him as you want. At least you get to eat lunch with him in school.

≫ —– ≪·•♕•·≫ —– ≪

The next day you arrive at school just in time before class begins. You were never late, always in time for class but since you were feeling down, sleeping was harder than staying awake.

You basically sprint to your homeroom and are just about to walk in when in the distance you spot Tooru, talking to a girl. Way too close for your liking and you feel your heart crack a little.

You trust Tooru, but since you both started third year it has been rough for you and sometimes your mind wanders and you think that maybe it’s better if you weren’t together so he could focus on volleyball without disappointing you and you having to feel disappointed.

You stand still and watch them. He is smiling towards her and that breaks your heart. A sharp pain stabs you in the chest and you can feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you would not cry. Not over a man. You take a deep breath and grab the door handle and walk in.

Tooru sees from the corner of his eyes your figure and now his heart races. This might have looked suspicious to other people and if you saw this, he was worried what you might think.

≫ —– ≪·•♕•·≫ —– ≪

Lunch break came fast, but you decided to skip lunch. You did not want to see Tooru and you hoped to god that he did not come and look for you.

“(y/n)?” his voiced echoed in the hallway.

“Shit,” you whispered to yourself and searched for a place to hide. Seeing the girl’s bathroom, you rushed through the door.

Is it normal to hide from your boyfriend?

The sound of you getting a text message got your attention. Pulling up your phone you see that it’s from Tooru. Of course.

Oikawa Tooru: Hi, where are you? I’m hungry :(

You: I’m not feeling well, sorry. I’ll make it up to you <3

Oikawa Tooru: Is there something I can do? Maybe a massage or some kisses? ;)

You: No, thank you.

You feel the vibration of another text but ignore it. You stay in the bathroom for a while and can feel yourself getting more anxious. What if Tooru does not love you? What if he has fallen for someone else, or worse. What if he has cheated but does not want to confess?

You shake your head of those thoughts that erupted. He loved you and he would never do that.

Taking a deep breath, you look yourself in the mirror and fix your hair and then exit the bathroom. You start walking towards your homeroom, turning the corner you bump into a hard chest and fall on the floor. You land on your butt and when you raise your head to see who you collided with you see that it is Iwaizumi Hajime, Tooru’s best friend.

“You okay, (y/n)-san?” He asks and holds out his hand towards you. Taking it, he helps you up and you brush off the dirt that is stuck on your skirt.

“Yes, thank you Iwa-chan.”

“No worries. How are you feeling?”

“Me? I’m good. Why?”

“Shittykawa told me you were ill.”

“Oh. I’m feeling much better,” you laugh and scratch the back of your head. “Oh, look at the time. Lesson starts soon, see you Iwa-chan.” You basically run from him and to your homeroom.

≫ —– ≪·•♕•·≫ —– ≪

You sigh and close your locker, leaning your forehead on it with your eyes closed. How are you going to act next time you speak with Tooru? He was just talking to a girl from his class, there is nothing weird with that. You speak to boys from your class, not very often but it happens.

Pulling yourself together you pull away from your locker and head towards the school entrance not expecting to see or meet anyone on your way home. Tooru was at practice so you were definitely not going to see him.

Except that is who you see when you exit the building. He’s not alone, he is smiling, laughing and talking to not one, not two but three girls. You didn’t recognize any of them, so you knew they were either girls from first or second year.

Standing still you watch him interact with them, he doesn’t do anything wrong but that doesn’t help with your emotions.

You see Tooru turn his head and spot you and you instantly get nervous and start to leave, heading home and you’re quick with your steps, not wanting him to catch up to you (which is stupid since he’s way faster than you).

“S’cuse me,” you hear him say and then the sound of his footsteps. “Babe. Wait up.”

You quicken your steps further, soon you’ll be running.

“Babe,” his voice speaks loudly as he grabs your arm and pulls you towards him. “Stop. Why are you running from me?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I can’t think of a reason…”

“Are you… jealous?” He snickers. Turning your head sideways you don’t want to look at him.

“N-No…”

“But you are. That’s so cute.”

“I-I am not. Brush that stupid grin off your face,” you pout and pull back your arm that he still had a tight grip on.

“Aw babe, don’t be jealous, I only love you and you know it.”

“Do I though? Because to me it looked like you enjoyed that conversation. You should rejoin them and go have some fun. Maybe you can get their numbers and start hanging out with them. Or maybe-“

“(y/n)!”

“-Maybe you can fuck them instead of me!”

“That’s enough! What’s up with you?”

Tears starts to fall down your face as you softly ask him “do you love me?”

“What?”

“I said, do you love me?” he raises his hand to cup one side of your face, brushing away the tears that have fallen, his other hand cups your other side. The tilts your head upwards so you have no choice but to meet his gaze. His brown eyes filled with nothing but love for you.

“Of course, I love you, baka.” He places a soft tender kiss on your lips. “I love you so much.”

You keep quiet, not knowing how to respond. A feeling of embarrassment starts to erupt, and you try to look away, a slight blush creeping up from your cheeks and down to your neck.

“What made you doubt my love?” His question comes out of the blue and takes you by surprise.

“We have not seen each other in a long time. You have been practicing and studying for a long time now and when I saw you with that girl earlier it made me question your love for me,” you confess straight out and your cheeks goes from pink to red.

“Is that so.” It is quiet for a minute and you have no idea if you should interrupt the silence or stay quiet but Tooru’s faster and cups your face with his palms and pulls you in for a rough kiss. “Come with me.”

≫ —– ≪·•♕•·≫ —– ≪

Tooru had basically dragged you home with him. You had trailed behind and asked where he was taking you and what about his practice.

“I took the night off since you were not feeling well,” he had responded and continued to drag you along with him.

Now you were stood in his hallway, the house empty and quiet as the booth of you took off your shoes. He turns to face you and grabs your bag with one hand and intertwines his fingers with your other while pulling you with him and towards his bedroom.

Once inside, he closes the door and throws both of your bags on the floor and turns around to face you.

“Now that we are finally here. Take of your clothes and get on the bed.”

“W-What?”

“You heard. Or do you need help?” he moves towards you and you back away until you feel a wall meet your back. You swallow and start to pant. When did you get so flustered?

Tooru is now in front of you, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. They start to travel down until they are at the hem of your skirt. His index finger moves so it is on the inside of your thigh and move upwards and to your core. He flicks his finger on your clit through your panties and you let out a soft moan, closing your eyes.

“Seems like someone is a little excited,” he smirks, and you know now that you cannot say no to him.

“What are you planning?”

“It’s a secret,” he winks. “Now listen to me and please tale off your clothes and get on the bed. You’re going to love it.”

You take him for his words and start to undress. Once you are completely naked you turn and head towards his bed, climbing up seductively so he can watch your fabulous ass being almost bent over for him.

“That ass of yours is dangerous babe,” he speaks, almost naked himself. Once he is all bear he walks towards where you have laid down and hovers over you. “Do you trust me?”

“Now you’re scaring me,” you nervously laugh.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Just answer me.”

“Yes. Of course, I do.”

“Great,” a swift kiss on your lips and he is gone but returns quickly, carrying some things in his hands. Making you quirk up one of your eyebrows.

“What are you-“

“Shh. You said you trusted me.”

“Yes, but-“

“No buts. Now, arms above your head.”

“Wha-“

“(y/n)! Just do as I say for once.” Muttering some curse words, you place both of your arms above your head and he straddles on your hips, tying your arms together with his red school tie. “Fucking perfect,” he winks.

He then picks up a blindfold, making you quirk up your eyebrow.

“We’ve been together for over a year now and when you got jealous, it made me feel a bit of a pride in myself. But also hurt that you don’t trust me around other girls. Yes, I did have a reputation of a player, but I would never ever cheat on you.”

Silence is filled in the air and it makes you feel guilty over your actions and how you reacted to seeing him with those girls. How stupid can I be?

“So,” he pulls the blindfold over your head, seeing nothing but black as he places it over your eyes. “I want to show you how much I love you.”

“How is this showing me exactly? I can’t see shit.” A heartfelt laugh escapes his lips and his hands rubs your cheek.

“You are going to feel it, babe.” He plugs a pair of earphones into your ears, a soft erotic melody starts to play and all you can hear is the song playing. You can feel him leave the bed and not a single sound can be heard except the music.

You jump when you feel something soft and ticklish on your chest. You soon relax when it starts to move up and down your torso, soon realizing it’s a feather Tooru is using.

The feather moves to your right breast and starts to pay attention to your hardening nipple, then to your other. Once he has payed them a little attention he moves downward and starts to slowly move it up and down your inner thighs, making you squirm on the bed, letting a small moan escape your lips.

You’re moaning, panting and huffing. Wanting more. He is taking his time with riling you up, building up a pressure of wanting more, and wanting to cum. You’re a wriggling mess.

The feather disappears and you are holding your breath, waiting for it to appear somewhere else. But instead you feel the bed sink and then his mouth leaving kisses on your shin and traveling up. You let out the breath that you were holding just as he reaches your pelvis and start to do the same to your other side.

A loud moan escapes your mouth when his tongue touches your clit, flicking on it and making you writhe and be a complete mess.

He places his palms on each side of your inner thigh and spreads them wide, his breath hitting your most private parts.

“Fuck Tooru,” you sigh, and he responds by licking up and down your slit, sucking up all your wetness that has formed and leakad out of your cunt. He cleans you up with his mouth and starts sucking on your clit, his lips around your swollen bud. Your back arches and you try to pull your hands away but are stopped by the tie holding them together.

Still sucking on your clit, Tooru pushes his index finger inside of you and your walls clamp around it. Feeling you pulsing around his finger and he knew you wanted more, so he listened and pushed one more finger inside, his index and middle finger thrusting slowly in and out of you while his lips sucks on your clit. You feel him arch both of his fingertips, them hitting your g-spot effectively and without no further do, you cum all over his fingers.

“TOORU!” you scream while throwing your head back in pure ecstasy, your back arching. Your body shaking from orgasming hard, his fingers keep thrusting in and out of you. The tip of his tongue flicking up and down your clit while you come undone, wanting to push him away from the sensation but also wanting more.

Tooru watches you, his eyes fixated on your breasts that keep wiggling from your movements. Your hard nipples wanting some of his attention. He lifts his left hand and with his index and thumb rolls your right nipple between them, pinching them slightly.

“T-Tooru, I- Shit. Oh god,” you pant and writhe, wanting his cock inside you but you know that he won’t give it to you until you have at least cum one more time.

Tooru’s fingers get rougher and starts pounding into your wet cunt faster and harder and the pressure in your lower abdomen starts to increase. You’re close once again and you both hate and love it how he knows your body so well.

He knows what to do and when to do it. His fingers are like magic to you, he takes you to places you’ve never been before, and his cocky ass knows it.

His tongue leaves your clit, as does his left hand on your nipple. Places his hand on your lower abdomen, right above your uterus and puts some pressure on it. His fingers fucking your cunt, hard, fast and aggressive and you know exactly what he’s trying to do.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Tooru, I’m- I’m gonna cum. Fuuuuuck,” and you do. You cum again. Your legs trembling as a warm liquid releases from you and onto the bed, your back arched so much you feel like it might snap. Your mouth open but no sound coming out from it.

A pool of wetness can be felt when you come down from your high, and you’re embarrassed, but not for long as you feel Tooru push his cock roughly inside you. The earphones are thrown away and instead of hearing music you hear a squelching, wet sound echoing.

Tooru places his palms on the back of your thighs, pushing them towards your chest so that the front is touching your torso. Your ass is being slightly lifted in the air as Tooru’s weight is pushing down on the back of your thighs, his hips slapping against your ass.

“Shit babe, you’re so wet. Fuck,” Tooru moans as his thrusts keep hitting deep inside of you, the tip of his cock gracing your g-spot.

“Tooru. Babe- I- Shit I’m about to cum again.”

“Yes baby, cum. Cum all over my cock (y/n),” the pressure returning yet again, and you release all over his thick cock, your walls pulsing around him. Tooru quicken his pace and you know he is close.

“Cum, Tooru. Please cum inside me.”

“Fuuuuck (y/n)!” he yells out your name, his hips still as he releases his load inside you, milking out all his semen and filling you up. A few grunts escaping his mouth, heavy breathing can be heard from his nose as he tries to come down from his high. Both of you are panting, that being the only sound in his room.

“Are you okay?” he asks out of breath as he removes the blindfold, throwing it on the bed next to you. He then continues to remove the knot around your wrists.

“I’m okay,” you smile, and he returns it. Once you’re free he tosses the tie on the floor and eases out of you.

“Stay put,” he commands, walking away to throw on a pair of boxer briefs and head into the bathroom next to his room. You can feel his semen slowly slipping out of you, but Tooru is quickly back and is carrying a towel in his hand. He reaches the bed and sits down on the edge and starts to clean you up.

“I can’t believe you squirted,” he smirks, and you blush.

“Me neither,” you confess. Once he’s done with cleaning you up, he takes off his boxers and lies down on the bed beside you.

“Come,” he says, and you place your head on his naked, sweaty and somewhat sticky chest. His arms wrapping themselves around you and holding you close to him.

“I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“I know. But if I get to fuck some sense into you then please, do it again.”

“I’m serious Tooru. I’m sorry. I should never have-“

“(y/n), I know. Let us just forget it for now and cuddle.”

“Okay.” He leaves a kiss on your forehead and you smile, feeling happy and contended. Slowly closing your eyes and embracing the pure moment of being utterly and completely in love with this man.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq!!#oikawa x reader #oikawa toru #oikawa tooru #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa smut #oikawa toru smut #oikawa tooru smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu smut

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feysandfeels · 3 years

Note

Which TS songs remind you of the different couples in SJM’s books???

Boy do I ??

You are a blessed soul for asking me this, and know that I adore you.

There is now a part II to this.

Feysand:

Begin Again: “I've been spending the last eight months Thinking all love ever does Is break and burn, and end But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again” Baby Feyre finding that love is not toxic, that love is supportive, that love can be wonderful. “You said you never met one girl who had As many James Taylor records as you But I do” but think of is as “he said he never met a girl who wasn’t afraid of his power, but i do”. Also also “Walked in expecting you'd be late But you got here early and you stand and wave I walk to you” because Feyre’s used to T*mlin’s mediocre ass but Rhys surprised her by being a decent human and treating her with respect, which makes her realize that she was starved for respect and that T*mlin was not giving her what every decent human being should get from the get go from their partner.

Ivy: Feyre slowly falling in love with Rhys, thinking about Rhys in the Spring Court between Night Court visits Also throughout ACOMAF how she battles with her ever growing feelings for the Lord of the Night, while feeling guilty about T*mlin, because they *just broke up*: “Oh, goddamn My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Taking mine, but it's been promised to another Oh, I can't Stop you putting roots in my dreamland My house of stone, your ivy grows And now I'm covered in you” and “I wish to know The fatal flaw that makes you long to be Magnificently cursed He's in the room Your opal eyes are all I wish to see He wants what's only yours”.

End game: I can practically see Rhys singing this in the shower thinking about Feyre, when she decided to work with him and him thinking like “YES THIS HAS TO BE A SIGN”. His reputation precedes him and in rumours he’s knee deep, him and Feyre would be a big conversation, he has enemies, he has heard about her and she has heard about him. He thinks “she’s so dope that he might overdose”. She’s been calling his bluff on all his usual tricks so here’s the truth from his red lips!!!!!

Dress: “Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me Flashback to my mistakes My rebounds, my earthquakes Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me And I woke up just in time Now I wake up by your side My one and only, my lifeline”. Need I say more? I think not your honor.

Call it what you want: “I said you don’t need to save me, but would you run away with me?” That’s Feyre’s whole arc, I rest my case.

Nessian: the happiness I feel about the fact that these two are together is just enough to make me smile on a Monday

False God - The song literally opens up saying “We were crazy to think Crazy to think that this could work Remember how I said I'd die for you” HELLOOOO?? NESTA THINKING ABOUT THAT SCENE IN ACOWAR?? but also feeling that she’s unworthy of Cassian and that there is no way in hell that he will love her with all that she is.

Don’t Blame Me - The power of this song lies in the I unapologetic- powerful-full on I give myself to you and I will do it over and over again energy it has. And this is the energy that Nesta has for Cassian (even when homegirl really tries to pretend otherwise lol boo you tried). The “through your love I found salvation” religious aspect of Don’t blame me is Nesta, because through Cassian’s love and presence she found the perspective she needed on herself. Also this book was a religious experience for me. Jesus fuck.

Sparks Fly: From Cassian to Nesta, with love. First of all Cassian would be a diehard swiftie (all of the bat boys for that matter, merch a the concert, what will we do if we get invited to the rep room?? fans. Az woud be like the quiet yet “no, speak one ill word of Taylor and that’s your end, she did nothing wrong she was framed and I have evidence”). Second of all “The way you move is like a full on rainstorm And I'm a house of cards You're the kind of reckless that should send me running But I kinda know that I won't get far” That’s him alright, that’s him knowing that Nesta is a force to be reckoned with and he wants nothing nothing but to be in that storm and live within the force of nature that she is. Thirdly “My mind forgets to remind me, your a bad idea You touch me once and it's really something You find I'm even better than you, imagined I would be I'm on my guard for the rest of the world But with you I know its no good And I could wait patiently But I really wish you would”

Elucien: This is an Elucien blog.

Lover - In all honesty wanted to give this song to Feysand, because they are my main otp and this song is the highest of the high from Taylor, but I can’t deny the fact that this song screams Elucien. “With every guitar string scar on my hand” I think is a beautiful parallel for Elain and gardening, “My heart’s been borrowed, and yours has been blue” this speaks of Gr*yson and Jesminda, “I loved you three summers now but I want them all” that’s Lucien speaking ma’am. “Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?”, both of them about the bond. “And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me and at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover” we all know Lucien has a mind for dirty jokes and sass and Elain would always save him the sit next to her because he is the one who truly saw her and, in his distance, was the presence she needed while she figured it all out. Finally, The fact that the song has very clear wedding tones I think fits the headcanon, that more than a mating ceremony, Elucien would have a wedding, because it feels like something Elain would feel more comfortable with.

Treacherous -“I can't decide if it's a choice Getting swept away I hear the sound of my own voice Asking you to stay”..... mmmmmm is this or isn’t it Elain getting closer to Lucien, but still wondering if it’s the bond or her, yet nonetheless surrendering to the fact that she wants him to stay. “This slope is treacherous This path is reckless This slope is treacherous And I, I, I like it” Elain doesn’t want an easy love, to simple do as the bond suggests she wants something that has twigs and branches and where she needs to question herself and truly ask what she wants out of life and this relationship. Also the softness of the melody juxtaposed with the vulnerability, brings a soft rawness that is Elain.

King of my heart: Neither of them expected to feel like they could love with all the hope and unapologetic free falling feel characteristic of first loves, yet here we are. They rule their kingdom inside the room because they are discovering their feelings for each other away from prying eyes and people that have expectations on how they should work with the mating bond and all that. “Late in the night, the city's asleep Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep Change my priorities The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury” Again, with the love away from everyone, feeling their world shift around what they are starting to feel for one another. “Is the end of all the endings? My broken bones are mending With all these nights we're spending” did we say healing arc through love and support an “not expecting anything to come off this, but I just want to see you well” à la sjm?? I THINK WE DID.

Emorie: I’m working with crumbs here, delicious crumbs that will make a delicious emorie cake, but crumbs nonetheless.. I need more and I need it now.

I think he knows - My girl Emerie crushing hard hard haaaaaaaaard on Mor.

Cruel Summer - “I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you And I snuck in through the garden gate Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh) And I screamed for whatever it's worth "I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard” this is prime PRIME PRIME ANGST, we will get from these two.

Gwynriel: this is an edit because I'm not a hoe for these two (yet...trust me once I see Az heal this is the tag where you will find me) and I did not know which songs might fit them and then when I posted it I was like WAIT WAIT I KNOW.

Gold rush - Gwyn talking herself out of her crush on Az after finding out about the whole necklace and being like “I don’t want a gold rush”.

Daylight - Az is a Taylor hoe first, spymaster second. She just makes him feel things. But in all seriousness “Like daylight It's golden like daylight You gotta step into the daylight and let it go Just let it go, let it goI wanna be defined by the things that I love Not the things I hate Not the things that I'm afraid of, I'm afraid of Not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night I, I just think that You are what you love” this is Az healing and being in better place where he can reflect on how he used to relate to love and romantic relationships, he now understands that love is not black and white but golden. He stepped into this notion of love and through it he found a beautiful relationship with Gwyn, he wants to be defined by the love he feels for her and the love he feels for his family, not by the things that haunted him, not by his mistakes, not by his trauma. He is golden, he is daylight, shadows and all he is daylight.

Az + Elain: As a romantic end game they are not my ship, but I do stand by my pre-acosf position that these two would be really good friends

Out of the woods - Where we stand after acosf I say that it is not far fetched that they might hook up and then realize that it’s not for them and that experience helps them access a new part of their healing: “They lost each other, but they found themselves”. The anxiety that this song mirrors is the anxiety of them knowing something doesn’t quite *fit* right, that they are both in turbulent times emotionally and this relationship is not giving them the peace they thought it would. They are paper airplanes, because they know that it’s not the right call for where they are in their own journeys if they want to heal properly and that neither will get what they truly want from the other one. The monsters who turned out to be trees, they are in the woods in this relationship, they were built to fall apart.. are all images that speak of the dynamic we could see of them, they try it doesn’t work and then after, when they are in better places mentally they will look back and be like “we dodge a bullet there didn’t we”.

Bonus: His necklace hanging around her neck, the image is clear there and so is the commentary.

Az + Mor: formerly known as Moriel, the ship that used to reign my heart

Breath - This song is entirely from Az’s perspective once he and Mor talk about, well, everything. This is not how he had planned it, this is not how he wanted this to go, but “people are people and sometimes it doesn’t work out, but it’s killing me to see you go after all this time” referencing letting go of the romantic feelings he had for her. They were a crutch for him and now he has to face life and the things that torment him about it, without the protection and comfort his crush on her offered him. “And we know it's never simple, Never easy Never a clean break, no one here to save me You're the only thing I know like the back of my hand,” regardless of what you all want to think, they do love and know each other but shift in their dynamic will mean an adjustment for both of them... it’s not a clean break. “Never wanted this, never wanna see you hurt Every little bump in the road I tried to swerve”, also Idc about what you all think, Az never never never wanted to hurt Mor, if he knew his behavior was in someway affecting her he would have done something, and I think from the aftermath of him going after Eris on ACOWAR we can see that... also this might allude to him actually knowing that Mor is a lesbian and he has tried to make sure she feels safe around him and knows that he has her back agains the whole world if need be, regardless of her lack of romantic feelings for him.

Feyl*n: honestly who knew there would be so many songs that would fit these two. Such bops for a crappy dude like T*mlin.

Exile - “I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind) I couldn't turn things around (you never turned things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)” He never even tried to learn to read her mind, he never turned things around and she gave so so many signs. The way he looks at Rhys like he’s his understudy, but no sugar he’s the principal actor and you got fired.

Getaway car - and I oop. Because that is essentially what they were both to each other. Feyre needed someone to give her security and financial stability, T*mlin needed someone to break the curse: “It was the best of times the worst of crimes”.

Bad blood - LOOOOOL. They used to be mad love and now they have bad blood.

Tell me why - Imma just leave a collection of quotes here that well allude to them through the first act of ACOMAF: “I took a chance, I took a shot And you might think I'm bulletproof but I'm not You took a swing, I took it hard And down here from the ground, I see who you are” Feyre seeing T*mlin for the abusive person that he is, from the ground.. where his behavior put her. Also “I'm sick and tired of your reasons I got no one to believe in You tell me that you want me, then push me around And I need you like a heartbeat But you know you got a mean streak Makes me run for cover when you're around Here's to you and your temper Yes, I remember what you said last night And I know that you see what you're doing to me Tell me why” The if he loved me, why did he do it and the “it’s not a question of if he loved you but how” conversation she has with Rhys.

I could go on and on forever placing all T-Swift songs around acotar characters, but I think this is getting longer than we all anticipated.. or did we? we all know I am not ✨concise✨. Anywho, thanks for sticking around.

Besos!!

BOOOONUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSS:

Obviously, Invisible String is for all my mated/soon to be mated boos, and I think Peace is a song that can apply to both Feysand and Nessian from Rhys’ and Nesta’s perspectives respectively.

#Feysandfeelsasks #Taylor Swift #Sarah J Maas #SJM #ACOTAR #ACOMAF #ACOWAR #ACOSF #Feysand #Nessian #Elucien #Emorie #not to toot my own horn but I think the Daylight one with Gwynriel is amazing #I will pat myself on the back.#Gwynriel #Moriel #and when I tag moriel i mean friendship moriel

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carewyncromwell · 3 years

Photo

Is that a Cinderella AU part I see? Yes, yes, it is! And one hopefully not as dark and devoid of hope as the last part...

Charlie’s castle carpenter tunic is based on this design; Bill’s castle guard uniform, referenced in a previous part, is based on this real uniform from 16th century France, though with a Royaumanian-worthy blue/red color scheme. My headcanon is that Charlie (who’s described as stocky in the books) is 5′5″, only two inches taller than his “unofficial twin,” Carewyn, while Bill is a friggin’ giant the tallest of the Cursebreaking squad at 6′1″ (one inch taller than Ben Copper at full height and the same height as his actor, Domhnall Gleeson!). The entire Cromwell family is on the smaller side, with Charles as the tallest at 5′10″. Oh, and yes, the Cromwells are all a piece of work, but Charles is indisputably the worst apple in the bushel. 😒

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you enjoy!

x~x~x~x

Carewyn was discovered outside by her aunts Pearl and Claire and uncle Blaise and brought inside. When they interrogated her about why she had returned to the estate in the middle of the night, however, Carewyn was unable to answer them. She was unable to speak at all -- nor was she able to eat, drink, or sleep. Instead she simply settled down in a huddled ball on her old cot by the fireplace and stayed there, her arms around her knees and her eyes devoid of all light or awareness.

Whatever had happened, Charles seemed to have determined Carewyn would be of no use to him in the palace, the way she was -- and so, at dawn, he sent a messenger to the King and Queen, telling them that she’d taken ill and would have to remain at home in the interim.

Carewyn’s cousins at first took some vindictive pleasure out of bullying her, now that she was back under their roof. Arsen and Kain actually picked Carewyn up off the ground and pushed her around like some human-sized doll while Elmer sang a mean little song he’d written about her --

“Cindy-Cindy-Cinderwyn, the finest of her class --

The duchess of the dust and soot, her kingdom’s made of ash!

She went to court; oh, did they chortle, snicker, and guffaw --

So Cindy-Cindy-Cinderwyn ran home, crying, ‘Mama!’”

Before long, though, her lack of a reaction seemed to make it not so fun of a game. Within two days, Tristan, the youngest of Carewyn’s cousins, actually threw a tantrum because Carewyn completely ignored him splashing his paints all over her.

“What’s wrong with you!?” the boy screamed, beside himself. “Why won’t you get mad at me?! Why won’t you run away and cry?! Why are you so -- so -- WEIRD?!”

Blaise was most perturbed when his son actually burst full-on into tears. Clenching his jaw furiously, he brought an arm around Tristan and swept him back inside and away from the vacant-eyed Carewyn. Then he went straight to the dining hall to speak to Charles.

“Father, something must be done about Winnie,” he hissed. “This is not normal.”

Pearl leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. “Her behavior is shameful. To think the Cromwell blood runs through the veins of that girl...”

“It’s pathetic, that’s what it is,” said Claire in sycophantic agreement.

“Winnie may be a pathetic thing, but she is our thing,” Blaise shot back fiercely, “and she’s practically dead as she is.”

He turned to Charles.

“We’ve already lost Lane and sent Jacob off,” he said in a quiet, cold voice. “Are we to simply let Winnie waste away?”

Charles had his hands folded in front of him on the table. At Blaise’s words, his own almond-shaped blue eyes -- identical to his children’s and nearly all of his grandchildren’s -- narrowed.

“I must admit, it is a shame that Carewyn has stopped being useful,” he said lowly. “Iris may still be a set of eyes for us inside the palace, but she’s hardly clever enough to do much of anything on her own that’s useful.”

Claire actually looked hurt. “Father...Iris just sent us a letter this morning. Was it not useful to you?”

Charles’s eyes were very cold upon his daughter. “Hardly. She spent a good chunk of it complaining that Carewyn did something to the Prince, before leaving the palace...clearly trying to make excuses for her own failure to hold Prince Henri’s attention.”

Claire’s eyes welled up with shame and she hung her head.

“It wouldn’t be the first time that Iris has blamed Winnie for stealing one of her suitors’ attention,” said Pearl seriously, “but we have yet to get any explanation about why she’s returned to us against your instructions. And Claire and I did hear a horse galloping away, that night. Could it have been Prince Henri?”

Blaise scoffed. “Doubtful. You think a Prince would ever favor a plain girl with no dowry or status?”

“You warned Winnie yourself that the Prince could want her as a conquest,” Pearl said darkly. “Heartbreak would more than explain her current state...”

The idea made Blaise flush with rage.

“Whoever rode that horse, it was not the Prince,” said Charles very smoothly. He rose to his feet, picking up his dragon-headed cane and strolling over to the window to look out. “From what my informants have told me...Prince Henri was at the Royaumanian army camp that entire night.”

His children all straightened up, taken aback.

“At the war front?” said Pearl, shocked.

“Yes,” said Charles. “It quite upset their Majesties. Even more so when he returned to the palace in the morning dressed like a commoner and declared to them and the entire royal court that he intended to open up peace talks with the soon-to-be King of Florence.”

“Soon-to-be King?” said Blaise, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Then the old one kicked the bucket?”

“Yes...and it turns out the replacement Crown Prince is something of a populist. From what I’ve heard, his very first decision as future monarch was to ask every Florentine nobleman to -- should they wish to remain at court -- donate a portion of their wealth to him, so that he could then use it to buy a feast and custom-tailored clothing for his soldiers.”

Charles was clearly offended by the idea. Blaise was too.

“Uppity brat,” he sneered. “I guess that’s what’s you get, when you choose a bastard peasant as your future king...”

Pearl, however, looked a bit more cynical. “Seems rather unwise, to antagonize those who come closest to you in status...”

“On the contrary,” said Charles. “It’s most shrewd. As Blaise said, the boy was the King’s illegitimate son. That would offend the standards of just about anyone of good breeding...thus it would be foolish to try to court them for approval. A rat can communicate best with other rats -- and sadly, a swarm of rats is just what you get, when they gather: a band of filthy, hungry, disgusting creatures who will eat away at what we hold dear.”

His blue eyes flashed.

“And now our Prince fancies becoming allies with such vermin.”

Claire looked uncertainly at Pearl and Blaise. Both of them looked perturbed.

“If the War ends, there’ll be less money in the future for us,” Blaise growled. “Our investments in armaments built this estate...”

“My investments, Blaise,” Charles said in a very cool voice. “Do not forget that even the ones done in your and my son-in-laws’ names were still orchestrated by me.”

He pushed his palm down into the top of his cane, his long fingers trailing over the metallic snout of the dragon-head handle.

“It’s far worse than that, however. The Royaumanian royal family’s financial troubles was what has lent me their ear from the beginning. Gave me access to their decision-making -- gave me some leverage in coaxing them to join our two families. Should the King and Queen become friends and allies with Florence’s new royal brat, they may get the idea to redistribute their courtiers’ wealth as he has, to alleviate the nation’s debts...meaning we not only won’t be bringing in as much money as before, but that we’ll also have to submit to parting with what we already have, just to indulge in petty charity.”

Charles’s eyes narrowed upon his reflection in the ice-trimmed window.

“Our family’s chance at ascending into royalty...at the absolute, irreversible power owed us...is slipping away.”

Claire got up and tried to comfort her father by taking hold of his shoulder. “But Father...surely there’s still some hope? If Iris -- ”

But Charles warded Claire off with the back of his hand, sweeping across the room.

“If your daughter thinks that a mere maidservant was able to captivate the Prince more than her, then perhaps it’s the maidservant who I should enlist in getting our family what we deserve.”

He shot a look over his shoulder at Pearl. “Fetch Carewyn and bring her to me.”

Pearl dragged Carewyn up to the dining hall by her arm. The ginger-haired Cromwell hadn’t changed clothes or washed since she’d returned home, so her face was covered in cinders and her forest green and white dress was still splashed with the paints Tristan had thrown on her.

At the start, Charles feigned concern, saying he hated seeing his granddaughter looking so ill and unhappy, but his words barely penetrated Carewyn’s mind. They were just more lies -- just like everything else out of his mouth. She should know...being a liar herself. So she didn’t say a word in response. She made no response at all. And soon enough, Charles did come around to what he really wanted.

“His Highness is set to make a fatal error...but you have his ear. We need you to return to your duties in the palace and ensure that he does not trust the Prince called Cosimo.”

Carewyn’s lightless, empty eyes ran over her grandfather’s face for a long moment...but she did not answer.

“This is a noble duty, child,” said Charles. Although he put on a smile, it did not touch his eyes. “This is your chance to protect both your family and your country. The Florentines have been our enemies since before your mother was born...and now they seek to feign honor long enough to lure our Prince into their jaws...”

He brought a hand down onto Carewyn’s shoulder.

“Jacob would be proud, knowing you were helping him in his fight against them.”

Carewyn stared at Charles. Her almond-shaped blue eyes were as dark and turbulent as two miniature hurricanes. And yet, she did not speak.

Charles tilted his head, raising his eyebrows and considering her expression with that cold, detached smile. “Come now, my dear...will you not speak to your grandfather? I do so hate to see you like this.”

Carewyn’s gaze drifted away as Charles’s eyes bore into her -- and yet the silence dragged on with neither breaking it.

Pearl, Claire, and Blaise, for their parts, were becoming all the more unsettled by Carewyn’s lack of a response. Blaise actually strode forward and shouted at her.

“You will speak when spoken to, you ungrateful little -- !”

He made as if to strike Carewyn, but Pearl grabbed his forearm and held it back, flashing him a warning look before turning her righteous anger onto Carewyn.

“Your grandfather requires your services, Winnie,” Pearl said very sharply. “Don’t you have something to say to him?”

Even with this, however, Carewyn didn’t say anything. Then, with as much energy and emotion as a ghost, she stepped back and out of Charles’s grip and turned to go.

Something flickered in Charles’s expression.

“I did not give you permission to leave,” he said very softly.

But Carewyn didn’t answer or turn around. Claire had to block the doorframe to keep her from leaving the room.

“Your grandfather said you’re not allowed to go,” Claire said, her voice trying to be sharp but instead sounding rather unsettled.

Carewyn stared at Claire with those hollow, empty eyes in silence as Charles approached her from behind.

“You will do your duty to this family, child,” he said. It was striking how much scarier his voice sounded, when it was quieter -- Charles Cromwell was the sort of man who didn’t need to shout in order to be intimidating. “After all...that is the pact we made when I took you and your brother in, is it not?”

He took hold of Carewyn’s shoulder, whispering in her ear.

“Do not forget that everything you have is because of my charity. I have no desire to punish you...but I shall withdraw my kindnesses, if I must.”

Carewyn was very still. Then she once again broke out of Charles’s grip and tried to move past Claire.

Before she could get far, however, Charles snatched her up by the hair. With a strangled cry of pain, Carewyn was thrown to the ground with astonishing force, Charles’s fist clenched fast around her hair.

“Your head is not the only thing in my hands, Carewyn,” he reminded her very coldly. “I hope you remember that.”

He wrenched her up onto her feet by her hair, and Carewyn had to clench her teeth to keep herself from crying out again.

“I have been very patient with your theatrics...but I grow weary of coddling you. Should I send some message to Jacob, so that you behave? Perhaps if your head is not one you will defend, perhaps his is...”

“Liar.”

The word escaped Carewyn’s mouth as a wispy, hollow rasp, and yet it was enough to make everyone in the room stiffen. Somewhere out in the hall, one might’ve caught a quickly stifled intake of breath.

Carewyn’s eyes, although so dark, seemed to have gained an odd gleam in the back of them, like flaming cinders in a dying fire, as she stared up at Charles.

“You’re a liar,” she said again, her broken voice as rough as sandpaper in her throat as it rose in volume. “I know your life isn’t bound to Jacob’s. Any spell you could’ve had cast on him would have broken at midnight, the very night you sent him away -- the very night you ripped him away from me and sent him off to War against his will!”

Her blue eyes flared with hatred.

“That’s why you’ve never once gotten word from him -- because there’s no word you could receive from him at all! Admit it!”

There was a horrible silence. Pearl, Blaise, and Claire all looked from Carewyn to Charles and back.

Charles bore down upon his granddaughter, his face as cold as some ivory mask with hard, diamond-like eyes.

“So that’s what this is about,” he said softly. “Assigning blame. Very well, Carewyn...let us discuss this. You came to me as a child, sobbing and distraught beyond words...begging me to save your brother’s life when he was already on death’s door. You had nothing to offer me at that time, nor did your brother -- and yet I, out of the goodness of my heart, agreed to take you in. All I asked was that you show proper gratitude...a term you accepted at the time, and yet now have seen fit to break.”

He yanked Carewyn up by her hair and threw her into the table with a WHAM. Carewyn cried out in pain, before crumpling to the floor in a heap.

“I spent a good deal of my own money and discarded my own honor to try to find someone to save your brother’s life, if only to bring the light back to your eyes. Jacob was brought back to health and you were reunited with him, just as you’d hoped. And yet now you seek to demonize my wish that you show gratitude? That I collect on the debt owed me?”

He brought the heel of his shoe down on Carewyn’s shoulder with force, slamming her face down against the floor.

“And worse,” he whispered, “you wish to demonize the fact that, all these years, I was too grief-stricken to tell you of your brother’s passing?”

Blaise, Claire, and Pearl all stiffened. Only Claire, however, looked shocked.

“Jacob is...dead?” she whispered shakily.

“I knew such a revelation would be crippling to a fragile, weak heart such as yours,” said Charles, his diamond-like eyes very hard upon the back of Carewyn’s head. “I knew that the knowledge that your brother died the morning after his departure, and that his body had to be burned with every other prisoner in those barracks instead of receiving a proper burial...would break your heart.”

Carewyn had started to shake. Her face had lost all of its color, and the flicker of rebellion she’d shown mere moments ago had gone out.

“You’ve never been a stupid girl, Carewyn. You really should have figured it out years ago...and yet, like a child who believes in Yuletide gift-givers, you latched onto your brother’s memory even when all logic said you shouldn’t. I’m certain everyone else in this family saw through my pretense -- knew that it was merely something to placate you, soothe your temperamental emotions. They always have made it difficult for you to see things clearly.”

Charles's eyes narrowed.

“You were the one who disregarded your duty to the man who put a roof over your head, clothed you and fed you. Perhaps the truth wouldn’t be so crippling if you had simply done as I wished...rather than chase after a ghost.”

Tears streamed down Carewyn’s face. Although her eyes were so hollow and she shook so badly, however, the grief inside of her was not just numbing. It had grown to such an extent that it for a moment made her lose her head completely. In a violent move, she wrenched herself off the ground with a mad scream and threw a fist right at Charles’s face. Unfortunately Carewyn had never been particularly strong -- and so Charles was able to seize her wrist, twisting it away from him and holding her back with little difficulty.

“Blaise,” said Charles icily. “Fetch the whip.”

Blaise looked stricken. “Father -- ”

“The child requires discipline,” he said without looking at his son. “I will not have her thinking that following her brother’s example is acceptable behavior.”

Blaise closed his eyes and bowed his head. Then, with a grim look on his face, he swept from the dining hall.

When he entered the hallway, he found all of Carewyn’s cousins (excluding Iris, who of course was still back at the palace) huddled up against the wall. They’d clearly been listening to every word...and for once, none of them looked the least bit amused. Their faces were all very pale.

Blaise considered them all for a moment in silence. Then he brought an arm around his son and led him away.

“Come, Tristan. You will return to your room and stay there until I come fetch you.”

Everyone at the Cromwell estate tried to block out the screams of pain that echoed out of the dining hall. After just under an hour, Charles finally stopped, whether out of physical tiredness or just having finally spent his temper, and bid Pearl and Claire to carry Carewyn up to the tower room at the back of the estate. Charles didn’t want her to leave that room again until she was prepared to behave appropriately.

Carewyn had expected Pearl and Claire to simply throw her on the floor and leave her there. Instead, however, Pearl sent Claire to go fetch some towels and cold water, and she hoisted Carewyn up onto the worn feather cot on the far end. Her aunts then removed her torn dress so that they could clean the open gashes Charles’s whip had delivered to her back.

As far back as Carewyn could remember, her aunts had never liked her. Her mother Lane had even told stories about her siblings and how Charles had pressured his children to compete against each other their whole lives. When Carewyn had moved in, Pearl had refused to look her in the face for over a month...and thanks to her daughters’ dislike for Carewyn, Claire had always treated her niece just as coldly. And yet, now...for some reason, they sat with her.

“...Why are you doing this?”

Carewyn couldn’t see either Pearl or Claire’s faces while she was lying on her stomach, but she heard the mattress give a light squeak, as if Claire had shifted slightly to look at Pearl.

“Don’t you think you’ve questioned your elders more than enough already?” said Pearl in a very hard voice.

She brought a cold cloth up to the largest gash on Carewyn’s shoulder, dabbing at it lightly.

“You may be a stupid, arrogant, pathetic girl, Winnie,” she said quietly, “...but I know the pain of losing one’s sibling.”

Carewyn felt some pity in her heart despite herself.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Pearl scoffed. “Thank me by doing as your grandfather says.”

Carewyn closed her eyes. Then she turned her head away from her aunts and didn’t reply.

Taking her silence as a refusal, Pearl withdrew quickly and hoisted herself up off the worn mattress.

“Come, Claire.”

Claire hesitantly inched herself up off the mattress too, fetching the bucket of water from the floor as she went. Carewyn could see her glance back at her, when she reached the doorframe.

“Your grandfather bid you stay in here until you behave,” said Claire, and her voice sounded almost reproachful. “Please don’t make him punish you further.”

But Carewyn did not make any move or sound. And so Claire closed the door behind her, and Pearl locked it with a loud CLACK behind them.

Once Pearl and Claire descended the stairs of the tower, however, they caught the sound of raised voices from outside the open manor door. One of the voices they recognized as Blaise’s -- the other, they couldn’t have known, belonged to Charlie Weasley.

When Carewyn’s friends learned that she would not be returning to the palace, they all reacted with concern. They knew how crippling the revelation of Jacob’s death had been, but the knowledge that she was back with her family, rather than at the palace where they could help her heal, well...that only made the whole affair worse. Clearly, as KC pointed out, the King and Queen probably wouldn’t have been that lenient toward a servant who was unable to work and had no reason to suspect anything malevolent in Charles wanting to “take care” of his granddaughter. After all, Andre himself had also presumed Carewyn was well-treated by her family, before he’d been forced to conclude otherwise.

“I’ll tell them the truth -- ” Andre had said forcefully, but Badeea only shook her head sadly.

“It won’t help, your Highness,” she murmured.

KC nodded grimly. “Carewyn is Lord Cromwell’s ward, Andre. Her only possible legal guardian and benefactor. That means she belongs to him, whether we like it or not. No matter how badly she’s treated, or what she’s told you about him, he’ll still have that power over her. And as long as he’s a Lord with more financial capitol than our entire family does combined...the King and Queen won’t want to discipline him.”

Bill and Charlie, however, just couldn’t accept this. So after their scheduled duties, they visited the Cromwell estate themselves, requesting to see Carewyn. When Blaise tried to turn them away, the exchange got more heated.

“I’ve already told you that Winnie will not see you,” Blaise said, his blue eyes flashing at the two brothers.

“We’d like to hear that from her, please,” said Bill, but his politeness had a noticeable edge to it.

“She is in no condition to entertain anyone, least of all a pair of peasant boys who presume to trespass on our land and make demands. Now get out.”

“We’re not leaving until we see Carey!” Charlie said fiercely.

“You will leave now, or I shall see to it that you are thrown out,” snarled Blaise.

“Go ahead and try it!” said Charlie, getting right up in the blond man’s face.

“What’s all this now?”

Charles Cromwell had emerged from the open door of the manor. Dashing out after him were Pearl and Claire.

Blaise’s eyes flared. “A couple of troublemakers who’ve come looking for Winnie. ‘Westley,’ they call themselves -- ”

“Weasley,” corrected Bill. His eyes were narrowed as he faced Charles. “Bill and Charlie Weasley. We worked in the palace with Carewyn -- we heard she was sick and came to see her.”

Charles glanced at Pearl and Claire out the side of his eye, before his eyes swiveled back over to the two Weasleys.

“...I’m afraid my dear Carewyn is resting upstairs.”

“May we see her, please?” Bill said. Once again, his words were polite, but his voice was very firm and pointed.

“No,” said Charles. “You may not.”

His eyes narrowed upon Bill’s freckled face. One could wonder what he saw in Bill that day -- whether it was the protective “big brother” affect that reminded him of his deceased grandson Jacob, the sincere devotion Bill felt for his granddaughter Carewyn, or simply the pure distrust and dislike toward him -- but whatever it was, it served to make the Lord’s face that bit more mask-like as he considered the ginger-haired castle guard.

“‘Bill Weasley,’ you said your name was? Well, Mr. Weasley...you can be rest assured that Carewyn is being quite well taken care of, here with her family, where she belongs.”

Charlie’s eyes flashed. “Somehow I doubt that.”

Charles raised his eyebrows very coolly.

“We know all about what you did to Carey, Cromwell,” said Charlie. “We know full well how you ‘take care’ of your family...unless you think Jacob would actually speak on your behalf, if he were still alive?”

Charles, amazingly, didn’t react at all to this, but it only served to make his mask-like face that much more unsettling.

“No one feels Jacob’s loss more than I. And I should thank you not to question that, boy.”

His eyes flickered from him to Bill.

“I don’t know what Carewyn has told you...but I’m afraid I must apologize for it, all the same. The child has always had a difficult relationship with the truth...she’s often spun tales to...try to make herself seem more appealing, to the people around her.”

“Takes a liar to know one, I guess,” spat Charlie.

Pearl’s eyes flared. “You have some nerve to speak to a nobleman thusly -- ”

“Pearl,” Charles soothed her, but his voice was hardly warm or comforting. Instead his eyes bore into Charlie with a darker glint. “You do yourself and your brother no favors in insulting me. I could have been kind and offered to send word, when Carewyn was well enough to see you...but I can see clearly that the both of you would be a toxic influence on my granddaughter, should I allow you to associate with her.”

“Toxic?” repeated Charlie, his voice rising. “You son of a -- !”

“Noble bloodline, unlike you,” Charles Cromwell said in a very low, foreboding voice. “One with enough money and influence to force you to comply with my wishes, if I must.”

Charlie wasn’t intimidated. “You do that, and we’ll tell the whole world about what you did. Reckon you won’t have quite so much respect from everyone, once they learn you used magic to trick Carey into staying under your thumb -- ”

“A dangerous accusation for anyone to make,” said Charles, his foreboding voice deepening further. “More still for a boy relying solely on the flawed testimony of a maidservant...and belonging to a family so impoverished by its size that they’d have no means to rebuild, in the event of some unforeseen tragedy...”

Charlie’s eyes widened dangerously. He looked like he wanted to punch Carewyn’s grandfather right in the face, but Bill took hold of his brother’s shoulders from behind, in a gesture that seemed to be both holding him back and expressing support.

Charles’s eyes -- the same color and shape as Carewyn’s, but infinitely crueler -- flashed up at Bill.

“I can tell that you -- like me -- are the sort of man who wishes to protect his family, Bill Weasley,” Charles said coldly. “If you wish to do so...then you will ensure that neither you nor your family comes near mine again. Do I make myself clear?”

Bill and Charles glared at each other for a very long moment, silently burning brown on icy, diamond-like blue.

“Crystal,” Bill murmured at last.

Charlie looked up at Bill, horrified. “Bill -- ”

“Come on, Charlie,” Bill cut him off quietly. “Let’s go.”

Bill steered Charlie away and off of the Cromwell estate. Once they’d cleared the gate, Charlie whirled on his brother.

“Bill, you can’t be okay with this! If old Lord Cromwell won’t let us see Carey, then something’s gotta be wrong! We can’t just -- ”

“I know,” said Bill.

Glancing over his shoulder, he walked with Charlie a few more feet to make sure they were out of earshot. Then he said quietly,

“Charlie...make up an excuse for the King and Queen about why their carriage is going to need more time to fix than you thought. We’re going to need it.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #cinderella au #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #bill weasley #charlie weasley #charles cromwell #blaise cromwell #pearl cromwell #claire cromwell #my art #my writing #...okay originally this was going to be two parts BUT #I figured you guys needed a bit more hope after how bad of a part the last one was #so I decided not to cut this in half #going back to work tomorrow~!!#so next part might take a little longer but I'll try to finish it soon #please keep liking/reblogging/commenting if you're enjoying! xoxo

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