#and jester jewelry can only mean one thing…
Note
ok so what if.. and hear me out on this one... what if, after all the attempts of killing the lil jester, the spouse somehow, someway, ends up liking them.. maybe not romantically (or maybe a lil romantically lol), I mean the jester is charismatic in their own right, and they're just so kind!! in comparison to the emperor who only despises them, maybe the jester can provide some comfort... that is their job after all. (sorry if smth is weird english isn't my first language lol hehe)
They couldn't understand why it was so hard to win his love.
Growing up in the upper class, and being the obsession of many; it was no surprise to them when the emperor's spouse became just that. From the moment they met, they could tell the prince was neutral to their existence, but with how charming and beautiful they were, he'd fall in love with them in no time. They'd live the life of their dreams as a member of the royal family - is what they believed.
How unfortunate for them that his heart belonged to another. A mere fool who wanted nothing more to bring a smile to the face of anyone they met.
Time and time again, the emperor's spouse was ignored by their future betrothed. His heart was ice to everyone- but you. His smiles were only genuine when you were at his side; a permanent scowl in the face of all others. You had a room next to his; theirs was near the other wing of the castle. He told you he cared for you; he rarely spoke to them at all. Second place wasn't even a consolation prize for them. They had no place at all.
Of course, this frustrated them beyond believe. What had you done to earn the audience of the emperor. His love. The only thing that kept them from murdering you on the spot was how oblivious to it all you seemed. They pitied you.
One thing they hated out the most,was how the emperor treated any present he received other than one from you. Thrown into a some storage room, or into the furnace without a second thought. Nothing could change his cold expression, other than those silly little dolls you gave him. They tried their hardest to get something he'd like, but it was hard to get a present for someone that was little more than a stranger. This time would be different; they told themself. He would ignore them no longer.
"I don’t want it."
The emperor's spouse never thought he could truly break their heart, but in that moment- it shattered. He liked things things with sentimental, right? That's why he loved whatever you gave him. They had tried to gift the emperor the necklace from around their neck; a family heirloom passed through the generations. It was the only thing they ever wanted when they were little and their most prized possession.
"What? Why?"
"I'm not a fan of jewelry, plus it does not match with anything I own. Stop wasting my time and go do something worth whole."
The emperor walks by them, leaving them alone in the garden they found them in. He wouldn't have said that if it were you. Oh. That's right. Things only have a meaning to someone else when you mean something to then. They had forgotten that simple fact in the hope they could change his mind with ease. How stupid of them.
In a fit of rage, they threw the necklace to the ground; sadness washing over after the anger as they fell to their knees. It was so hard to love that man, even if it's what everyone told him to do. From his constant rejection, they grew obsessed with the idea of him loving them back, but they weren't sure if had ever been in love with him. No matter what, they would be wed, but was a crown really worth any empty bed?
The chain of their necklace drags against the stone path as footsteps stop before them, a hand holding it out to them. You stand over them, smiling as always.
"You dropped something."
The emperor's spouse snatches the necklace from you. "Don't touch that. You don't have the right."
You hold your hand up in surrender. "Sorry!.. It's pretty though."
They hold it to their chest. "I know.."
"What's wrong? It looks like you've been crying."
"None of your business."
"Well, I know that, but I'd like to help you out regardless."
They look down. "I tried to give it to the emperor, but he didn't want it."
You gasp. "Really? He always accepts my presents."
"He cares about you. I don’t mean anything to him."
"But you're his spouse."
"He doesn't love me."
You frown. The emperor had always been a hard nut to crack, but you believed he cared for everyone in his own way, even them. You kneel beside them, patting their shoulder.
"I'm sure he does, he just doesn't know how to express himself properly. There's no reason why he wouldn't love you. You're pretty, but more importantly you care enough about him to cry over him. If I was your spouse, that's all I need."
They sniffle. Why were you being so nice to them? They avoided you, but weren't very nice when you did interact. Would you still be so kind if you knew they tried to take your life multiple times. They wanted you to stop smiling at them like that. It made them feel so guilty, yet so very warm.
"May I try it on? I understand if its that important, but it's so nice I wanna see how it looks on me."
"...fine."
They hand you the necklace and you put it on. It sits high upon your ruffled collar, pendant barely to your upper chest despite its long string. It looks awkward to them, but oddly kinda amusing.
"How do I look?"
They fight back a laugh. "Absolutely ridiculous... but not completely terrible"
You fake pout "You're very cruel, your majesty. You and your future have more in common that you you think."
They can't hold the laugh back at the one. They let out a few giggles, holding their hand over their mouth to hide them.
"See? All you have to do is show him that gorgeous laughter. He'll fall in love with you in no time!"
They grow quiet. "..Maybe."
"I know so." You bring your other arm around them in a half hug; startling them. The emperor never gave them hugs, they couldn't even remember the last person who had. He obviously wasn't as nice either, but you always seemed to be so positive. Is this what their spouse fell in love with? Your compassion seemed to hold no ends; holding them like you as if the greatest of friends. You truly didn't deserve any of what they had put you through, even if a part of their mind still saw you as a threat.
Maybe, if they stuck around you long enough they could be someone the emperor loved. It was the reason they gave themself as they hugged you back like it was the first they ever had touched another and fell into your kindness like a safety net from the pain of their daily life.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere oc#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#yandere insert#yandere x you#yandere story#yandere blurb#yandere drabble#yandere emperor#male yandere#yandere fic#yandere writing
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Mollymauk doesn't have a permanent home. He still travels for the better part of his days, sometimes with Yasha, or Fjord and Jester, and seldomly with Beauregard and Caleb — the last duo does some delicate work and they bring him along when they need the extra dexterity.
He's gotten rather good at being sneaky, actually, having taken some pointers from Veth. He knows how to make his jewelry more silent, has had the coat he wears now made into something double-sided like Beau’s so he can flip it to a darker side and hide in the shadows more efficiently.
So much of his time is spent going from tavern to tavern, inn to pub, staying in hovels and nooks and crannies where he can get a few hours of sleep before rushing to the next destination.
It's similar to his days where he'd run off to 'choir practice', only this time his friends know what he's doing when he's away.
Last week, he'd gotten a corrupt minor politician ousted from a small town, and for extra humiliation on the way out, he'd ensured the man's clothing all wound up mysteriously dyed in bright, garish neons as opposed to the delicate white and silver he was known for. The week prior, he'd forced a mean-spirited woman out of her job at an orphanage, and before that, he'd helped Kiri play a more low-stakes prank on a local tutor who'd been pocketing money from families' homes.
(He'd cornered her the day after to let her know that the consequences would be more dire if he caught her again; he wanted Kiri to have a good example, of course, and hadn't threatened the woman then.)
So on and so forth, his months have passed. But now he can feel his heart longing for some company, for some quiet after his vigilante-ing. He loves doing it, of course he does, but he misses the quiet of home.
Home being the Nein, not a building. But most of all his home is one particular wizard, and he's already looking forward to feeling the scruff of his beard and hearing the quiet rumble of his voice as he heads down the side road from Rexxentrum to the little cottage he's become so familiar with.
He thinks he'll stick around for a bit this time. He needs to rest.
The outside is so quaint, evidence of local stray cats in the garden; Caleb can't kick the habit of feeding them, it seems.
Deep breaths.
He knocks on the door.
He's not even sure if Caleb is home, now that he thinks of it — he hadn't checked in with the sending stone beforehand.
There's no answer, so Mollymauk digs through his various pockets and bags until he finds the keys Caleb had given him so long ago — Veth had gotten a set, and Beau as well. Molly's set was the first, though, which makes his heart feel warm.
Unlocking the door, he lets himself into the cottage. It's dark, quiet, obviously untended for a few days. He must be out on a job with Beau — he'll send a message to the both of them soon. For now, Molly hangs his coat up and rolls his shirt sleeves up, preparing to clean up the remnants of absence and make himself something to eat — Caleb won't mind, he's sure.
————
He falls asleep in Caleb's bed later in the evening, touching the sending stone to his forehead before he drifts off.
"Hey, love," he says, the gentle blue glow of the stone both a comfort and a thing that gives a feeling of longing at the same time, "Planning to be home anytime soon?"
There's a long pause. Molly almost worries he'll fall asleep before Caleb replies, but then he hears that gentle, smooth voice from the stone.
"I will be home next week. My home is open to you if you are around, Mollymauk.” Caleb sounds both tired and just the right amount of sweet to make Molly’s heart skip. He holds the stone after Caleb’s voice fades out, wanting to reply but knowing he’s already expended the charge. After a moment, he presses his lips to it in a quiet, longing hope that Caleb is perhaps doing just the same, and then he sets it onto the bedside table and pulls the blankets up and over himself.
————
Caleb being out of town for the week means that Molly has free reign of his cottage. He puts the time to good use — the first day, he sets about cleaning up any dust and things Caleb has left out before his excursion. He’s generally very tidy, especially regarding his work, and so Molly’s work on that is accomplished rather quickly. Then he goes a bit further than expected, pulling the rugs and the blankets out to wash and hang to dry.
Caleb’ll be happy, he tells himself.
Now, over the past few years, he’s been learning from Yasha on how to cook. To homemake, really. She’s taught him to hone the skills he started to focus on during the circus days — to sew, to mend. He patches up a few things in Caleb’s closet, things he knows he’ll wear around the house like his bathrobe and the comfortable slippers by his bed. And with the money in his coinpurse, he sets off into the city proper to find himself something similar.
A colorful magenta robe catches his eye. It’s soft, and there are turquoise slippers in another shop that he takes a liking to.
It feels like making a home for himself. Putting something of his own into Caleb’s home, nestling himself into his life. Something about that makes him feel giddy.
Mollymauk then takes the time to wander the city and find things for the rest of his week without Caleb — some food, fresh vegetables and meat to cook, some fruit kept chilled by the ice-boxes made by the mages of the city. A bottle of rather nice wine — not too expensive, but just nice enough that he’ll wait until Caleb is home to crack it open. Until then, some ale to take home.
He passes through the rest of the market, down the brightly decorated streets and shopfronts.
A silversmith’s storefront catches his eye.
Something in his chest feels hollow.
He bites back the feeling and continues on.
————
By the fifth day of his week without Caleb, Mollymauk has finally accomplished a task he’d told himself to accomplish:
He has a single, lovely, soft loaf of bread. It had taken trial and error and a sending stone message to Yasha and Veth both, asking why his bread was sinking and deflating, and after some failed attempts that wound up on sticks in the yard for birds to pick at, he’s got one good loaf of homemade bread.
Caleb is going to love it, he hopes.
He wraps it in the paper on Caleb’s kitchen counter, puts it in the little box he’s got set aside for bread and goes into the rest of his night. A long, hot bath is just what he needs after hunching over the kitchen table and then the sink, scrubbing his mess until the kitchen looked better than when he’d arrived.
The tub is filled up, Molly sets some candles up to light the room — better than full lamplight, really — and settles in, sinking down until he can submerge his entire head for a few moments to soak his hair. Wiping the water from his face, Molly sinks back against the tub to relax, the tension in his shoulders and back finally being washed away by the heat.
Then he hears something peculiar.
Familiar.
The warping sound of a teleportation circle activating, then footsteps through the main entryway, the living room.
Caleb’s voice calls out.
“Mollymauk?”
Molly, feeling a rush of delight, almost wants to jump from the tub and run straight into his arms, but he resists. He resists and tries to keep his voice even as he calls for Caleb,
“I’m having a bath, dear.”
Moments pass and Caleb’s head pokes from behind the door. He looks tired. Rumpled, really.
“Care to join me?” Molly says, lifting his leg until his foot rests on the edge of the tub. Caleb laughs, undoing his scarf and hanging his coat over the door.
“Gladly.” He says, and before Molly knows it, he’s got one rather exhausted wizard in his arms, needing a good scrub, just like the old days — well, perhaps not quite as bad, but still.
“You’re back early,” Molly says, settling in against Caleb’s chest once his hair has been fully scrubbed through and it feels soft and warm between his fingers. Caleb’s arms circle his waist, his beard brushing his shoulder as he cuddles in close.
“We got what we needed.” Caleb says, and then, “You cleaned my home?”
“I figured you’re so busy all the time…” Molly says. “I thought it would be nice. That you’d like it. I also went shopping.”
“For?”
“A few things.” Mollymauk turns slightly, just enough so he can lay his head on Caleb’s shoulder and look upward at him, mindful of his horns. “Some very good wine I’ve been waiting to open up.”
Caleb smiles at him.
“Well,” he says, “Best we finish up in here and get to that, ja?”
Molly can’t find an argument against that.
And they do get to it — the wine is sweet, and Mollymauk’s bread is decent enough that Caleb compliments him on it, even as he puts perhaps more butter and honey on it than needed. He’ll get better at baking the more he does it, he figures, and Caleb is simply being nice.
Doing more baking for Caleb sounds like exactly the sort of thing Mollymauk wants to do, come to think of it. Maybe even help him keep the cottage looking nice while Caleb goes off to work in the academy, take a break from his own adventuring to be there for him to come home to.
Should he?
Mollymauk thinks it over as he watches Caleb in his worn maroon bathrobe, the orange and black patches where Molly has sewn over, brushing butter from his beard with a napkin. It’s domestic, it’s strangely charming, it’s mortal and human and sweeter than anything Molly could have ever expected to feel such a compelling want for.
He thinks, maybe, he might just be more in love with Caleb than he’d really thought.
And maybe sticking around for a bit is what he’s meant to do.
He says nothing about it, of course, that would be far too forward — but when he kisses Caleb before pulling him off to bed, he thinks Caleb might already know.
#this was meant to be shorter. but. it's still getting posted here.#i'll post it to ao3 later probably#widomauk#!! mild comic spoilers but more just for one single line really#anyway this isnt edited or anything but have this little fic#more of the post c2 sloooowburn romance idea
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Credit goes to @head-in-the-icloud for the au and characters. Nova is my own character. I hope you guys like it 😁
✨🌟💎🔮🃏🃏
The Royal Jesters Fanfic- Seamstress Nova
The castle is magical, as are the residents. Well, not ALL of them at least. But in Novas mind they all are, each one is nothing she’s seen before. Even the ones that seem like clones visually have such personalities. In place of flesh there’s metal and what she assumes is magic, visually unique it was crazy.
But now it’s her new normal. Having spent a few years of her life here, she’s come to know them relatively well. The Princes love to expend their energy and stress by playing as Fools, playing pranks on each other and those around them. As much as they can be annoying it’s endearing. She thought something was up when Prince Sun spent more time in her workshop, suddenly finding some fabrics and accessories very interesting. Spending a day or so flipping through sample books she’s collected throughout her professional travels. Asking when she'll head out again.
Nova kept them categorized by region, shop, and then by colors, textures, and patterns. These books are more like mini suitcases with canvas as pages in place of paper, samples of previous fabrics she’s purchased in the past. Nova took pride in her collection, even if just to look at they’re wonderful reminders of previous designs.
Her bells collection, however, she felt it almost necessary to ban him from. The constant jingling to test which ones sounded perfect got on her nerves a little, but save for that one exception it was entertaining to watch him select the fabrics and ask her so many questions. When she asked him of his sudden interest in fabric, he was being uncharacteristically vague and dismissive. She guessed it was two things, something gold and shades of reddish orange, something azure and indigo. Veeery sneaky, Prince Sun.
She recognized the fabrics immediately as they donned their new apparel. They were almost unrecognizable with the masks, the Princes looked great as Jesters! Their antics made her laugh more, even when she became a target for a little while. The number of times one or both of her braids were now ‘mustaches’ for themselves or on her was a fast way to pull her attention from work. Under normal circumstances touching her hair would be off limits but she gave them permission if their hands were clean. Despite it not being her place, she saw them as family. This doesn't mean she enjoys EVERY prank or joke, she could do without the pies in her face.
When she first met Gaiya, she was more intimidated than she was by Eclipse. Purely from height and status, and staring into her soul spooked her for sure with those big eyes. But the initial fear did not stop her from admiring the grace she carried, and instantly knew she would be hardest to design for but thrilled with the challenges. When the Queen had time to review designs and fabrics she wanted she enjoyed the most, many varieties of snacks and teas available each time.
Eclipse…
Nova respected Neptune a great deal, a powerful wizard in his own level. Having to maintain and upkeep the knowledge required takes a lot of time. She's spoken with him only a few times, primarily for basic defense spells and the benefits of enchanting threads and fabrics for certain occasions.
During her travels to retrieve orders of fabrics, jewelry, and shop on her own accord for other necessities for her job she took guarding the goods and the money she traveled with extremely seriously. To the point where in between her travels, and main job as a tailor, she kept up her abilities by training with Eclipse when possible, or basic defense spells with Neptune. She has very little in magical capability and is only so strong physically. But what most don't know about her is why she keeps her gloves on 90% of the time.
From her fingertips thin but very strong wires of light move from her control. It's very dangerous mid to close range, and she has used it for mobility. Those who don't notice the light reflecting parts of the wires may believe she's floating or flying. But most fights she partakes in end up with body parts strewn about, the ground and herself covered in blood. It's very messy. Considering the wires can cut chunks out of wagons and armored personnel with relative ease, she's comfortable traveling on her own. But this does not mean she enjoys any bloodshed, she merely wishes to not be a burden in a kingdom of animatronics as a human.
The wires do have their benefits outside of battle, she's able to move heavy rolls of fabrics with ease on her own. But she must remain mindful of their sharpness. She'll regularly use them on herself to work on tailoring for the Queen directly, or to Eclipse when she's had enough making him more cloaks than he can burn through and gives him a piece of her mind face to face. His enjoyment of this just angers her more.
#ophelia talks#royal jesters au#seamstress nova#Eclipse#sun#moon#queen gaiya#neptune#tw: light gore mentioned#tw: blood mention#fanfic of a fanfic
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SANSA STARK & TARGARYEN IMAGERY
A list of Targaryen Imagery around Sansa Stark in A Song of Ice and Fire
Fire and Blood
Black and Red
Silver and Purple
Dragon's Tail
Dragon Wings
Dragon Eggs
Dragon Skulls
Golden Dragons
Dragon Knights
Valyrian Steel
Dance of the Dragons
Maegor the Cruel
Baelor the Blessed
Aegon the Unworthy
Prince Aemon the Dragonknight
Aerys the Mad King
Rhaegar the ast dragon
Bonus: Fiery Hair
1. FIRE AND BLOOD
Sansa slid off her mare, but she was too slow. Arya swung with both hands. There was a loud crack as the wood split against the back of the prince's head, and then everything happened at once before Sansa's horrified eyes. Joffrey staggered and whirled around, roaring curses. Mycah ran for the trees as fast as his legs would take him. Arya swung at the prince again, but this time Joffrey caught the blow on Lion's Tooth and sent her broken stick flying from her hands. The back of his head was all bloody and his eyes were on fire.
—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I
The point of Ser Gregor's lance had snapped off in his neck, and his life's blood flowed out in slow pulses, each weaker than the one before. His armor was shiny new; a bright streak of fire ran down his outstretched arm, as the steel caught the light. Then the sun went behind a cloud, and it was gone. His cloak was blue, the color of the sky on a clear summer's day, trimmed with a border of crescent moons, but as his blood seeped into it, the cloth darkened and the moons turned red, one by one.
—A Game of Thrones - Sansa II
The blood orange had left a blotchy red stain on the silk. "I hate her!" she screamed. She balled up the dress and flung it into the cold hearth, on top of the ashes of last night's fire. When she saw that the stain had bled through onto her underskirt, she began to sob despite herself. She ripped off the rest of her clothes wildly, threw herself into bed, and cried herself back to sleep.
—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III
When the king's herald moved forward, Sansa realized the moment was almost at hand. She smoothed down the cloth of her skirt nervously. She was dressed in mourning, as a sign of respect for the dead king, but she had taken special care to make herself beautiful. Her gown was the ivory silk that the queen had given her, the one Arya had ruined, but she'd had them dye it black and you couldn't see the stain at all. She had fretted over her jewelry for hours and finally decided upon the elegant simplicity of a plain silver chain.
—A Game of Thrones - Sansa V
Then she realized that the blood had soaked through the sheet into the featherbed, so she bundled that up as well, but it was big and cumbersome, hard to move. Sansa could get only half of it into the fire. She was on her knees, struggling to shove the mattress into the flames as thick grey smoke eddied around her and filled the room, when the door burst open and she heard her maid gasp.
—A Clash of Kings - Sansa IV
When she crawled out of bed, long moments later, she was alone. She found his cloak on the floor, twisted up tight, the white wool stained by blood and fire.
—A Clash of Kings - Sansa VII
"The dwarf's wife did the murder with him," swore an archer in Lord Rowan's livery. "Afterward, she vanished from the hall in a puff of brimstone, and a ghostly direwolf was seen prowling the Red Keep, blood dripping from his jaws."
—A Storm of Swords - Jaime VII
As the boy's lips touched her own she found herself thinking of another kiss. She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak.
—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II
2. BLACK AND RED
The queen wore a high-collared black silk gown, with a hundred dark red rubies sewn into her bodice, covering her from neck to bosom. They were cut in the shape of teardrops, as if the queen were weeping blood.
—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV
Tyrion wore a doublet of black velvet covered with golden scrollwork, thigh-high boots that added three inches to his height, a chain of rubies and lions’ heads. But the gash across his face was raw and red, and his nose was a hideous scab. “You are very beautiful, Sansa,” he told her.
—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III
3. SILVER AND PURPLE
Sansa closed the shutters and turned sharply away from the window. "You look very lovely today, my lady," Ser Arys said.
"Thank you, ser." Knowing that Joffrey would require her to attend the tourney in his honor, Sansa had taken special care with her face and clothes. She wore a gown of pale purple silk and a moonstone hair net that had been a gift from Joffrey. The gown had long sleeves to hide the bruises on her arms. Those were Joffrey's gifts as well. When they told him that Robb had been proclaimed King in the North, his rage had been a fearsome thing, and he had sent Ser Boros to beat her.
—A Clash of Kings - Sansa I
"You've waited so long, be patient awhile longer. Here, I have something for you." Ser Dontos fumbled in his pouch and drew out a silvery spiderweb, dangling it between his thick fingers.
It was a hair net of fine-spun silver, the strands so thin and delicate the net seemed to weigh no more than a breath of air when Sansa took it in her fingers. Small gems were set wherever two strands crossed, so dark they drank the moonlight. "What stones are these?"
"Black amethysts from Asshai. The rarest kind, a deep true purple by daylight."
—A Clash of Kings - Sansa VIII
Sansa wore a gown of silvery satin trimmed in vair, with dagged sleeves that almost touched the floor, lined in soft purple felt. Shae had arranged her hair artfully in a delicate silver net winking with dark purple gemstones. Tyrion had never seen her look more lovely, yet she wore sorrow on those long satin sleeves. "Lady Sansa," he told her, "you shall be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight."
—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion VIII
4. DRAGON WINGS
Tyrion scarce touched his food, Sansa noticed, though he drank several cups of the wine. For herself, she tried a little of the Dornish eggs, but the peppers burned her mouth. Otherwise she only nibbled at the fruit and fish and honeycakes. Every time Joffrey looked at her, her tummy got so fluttery that she felt as though she'd swallowed a bat.
—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV
"What wife?"
"I forgot, you've been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head."
—A Storm of Swords - Arya XIII
5. DRAGON EGGS
Butterbumps arrived before the food, dressed in a jester’s suit of green and yellow feathers with a floppy coxcomb. An immense round fat man, as big as three Moon Boys, he came cartwheeling into the hall, vaulted onto the table, and laid a gigantic egg right in front of Sansa. “Break it, my lady,” he commanded. When she did, a dozen yellow chicks escaped and began running in all directions. “Catch them!” Butterbumps exclaimed. Little Lady Bulwer snagged one and handed it to him, whereby he tilted back his head, popped it into his huge rubbery mouth, and seemed to swallow it whole. When he belched, tiny yellow feathers flew out his nose. Lady Bulwer began to wail in distress, but her tears turned into a sudden squeal of delight when the chick came squirming out of the sleeve of her gown and ran down her arm.
—A Storm of Swords - Sansa I
In the Queen's Ballroom they broke their fast on honeycakes baked with blackberries and nuts, gammon steaks, bacon, fingerfish crisped in breadcrumbs, autumn pears, and a Dornish dish of onions, cheese, and chopped eggs cooked up with fiery peppers.
[…] Tyrion scarce touched his food, Sansa noticed, though he drank several cups of the wine. For herself, she tried a little of the Dornish eggs, but the peppers burned her mouth.
—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV
6. DRAGON’S TAIL
The morning of King Joffrey's name day dawned bright and windy, with the long tail of the great comet visible through the high scuttling clouds. Sansa was watching it from her tower window when Ser Arys Oakheart arrived to escort her down to the tourney grounds. "What do you think it means?" she asked him.
"Glory to your betrothed," Ser Arys answered at once. "See how it flames across the sky today on His Grace's name day, as if the gods themselves had raised a banner in his honor. The smallfolk have named it King Joffrey's Comet."
Doubtless that was what they told Joffrey; Sansa was not so sure. "I've heard servants calling it the Dragon's Tail."
"King Joffrey sits where Aegon the Dragon once sat, in the castle built by his son," Ser Arys said. "He is the dragon's heir—and crimson is the color of House Lannister, another sign. This comet is sent to herald Joffrey's ascent to the throne, I have no doubt. It means that he will triumph over his enemies."
Is it true? she wondered. Would the gods be so cruel? Her mother was one of Joffrey's enemies now, her brother Robb another. Her father had died by the king's command. Must Robb and her lady mother die next? The comet was red, but Joffrey was Baratheon as much as Lannister, and their sigil was a black stag on a golden field. Shouldn't the gods have sent Joff a golden comet?
—A Clash of Kings - Sansa I
7. DRAGON SKULLS
Within, the dragon skulls were waiting, and so was Shae. “I thought m’lord had forgotten me.” Her dress was draped over a black tooth near as tall as she was, and she stood within the dragon’s jaws, nude. Balerion, he thought. Or was it Vhagar? One dragon skull looked much like another.
[...] After, as they lay entwined amongst the dragon skulls, he rested his head against her, inhaling the smooth clean smell of her hair. “We should go back,” he said reluctantly. “It must be near dawn. Sansa will be waking.
[...] The Others can take my guilt, he thought as he slipped his tunic over his head. Why should I be guilty? My wife wants no part of me, and most especially not the part that seems to want her. Perhaps he ought to tell her about Shae. It was not as though he was the first man ever to keep a concubine. Sansa’s own oh-so-honorable father had given her a bastard brother. For all he knew, his wife might be thrilled to learn that he was fucking Shae, so long as it spared her his unwelcome touch.
—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion VII
8. GOLDEN DRAGONS
"The queen raised her voice. "A hundred golden dragons to the man who brings me its skin!”
“A costly pelt,” Robert grumbled. “I want no part of this, woman. You can damn well buy your furs with Lannister gold.”
[...] Shortly, Jory brought him Ice.
When it was over, he said, “Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell.”
“All that way?” Jory said, astonished.
“All that way,” Ned affirmed. “The Lannister woman shall never have this skin.”
—A Game of Thrones - Eddard III
"Petyr Baelish put a hand on the rail. "But first you’ll want your payment. Ten thousand dragons, was it?”
“Ten thousand.” Dontos rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. “As you promised, my lord.”
[...] “But he saved me.”
“He sold you for a promise of ten thousand dragons.
[...]“Sansa felt sick. "He said he was my Florian.”
—A Storm of Swords - Sansa V
“Your sister’s had no difficulty finding witnesses to your guilt.” Ser Kevan rolled up the parchment. “Ser Addam has men hunting for your wife. Varys has offered a hundred stags for word of her whereabouts, and a hundred dragons for the girl herself. If the girl can be found she will be found, and I shall bring her to you. I see no harm in husband and wife sharing the same cell and giving comfort to one another.”
—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion IX
Someplace no stag ever found … though a dragon might.
—A Feast for Crows - Brienne III
"A good melee is all a hedge knight can hope for, unless he stumbles on a bag of dragons. And that's not likely, is it?"
—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I
9. DRAGON KNIGHTS
She shouted for Ser Dontos, for her brothers, for her dead father and her dead wolf, for gallant Ser Loras who had given her a red rose once, but none of them came. She called for the heroes from the songs, for Florian and Ser Ryam Redwyne and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, but no one heard.
—A Clash of Kings - Sansa IV
"True knights would never harm women and children." The words rang hollow in her ears even as she said them.
"True knights." The queen seemed to find that wonderfully amusing. "No doubt you're right. So why don't you just eat your broth like a good girl and wait for Symeon Star-Eyes and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight to come rescue you, sweetling. I'm sure it won't be very long now."
—A Clash of Kings - Sansa V
They continued down the serpentine and across a small sunken courtyard. Ser Dontos shoved open a heavy door and lit a taper. They were inside a long gallery. Along the walls stood empty suits of armor, dark and dusty, their helms crested with rows of scales that continued down their backs. As they hurried past, the taper's light made the shadows of each scale stretch and twist. The hollow knights are turning into dragons, she thought.
—A Storm of Swords - Sansa V
10. VALYRIAN STEEL
Lord Tywin waited until last to present the king with his own gift: a longsword. Its scabbard was made of cherrywood, gold, and oiled red leather, studded with golden lions' heads. The lions had ruby eyes, she saw. The ballroom fell silent as Joffrey unsheathed the blade and thrust the sword above his head. Red and black ripples in the steel shimmered in the morning light.
[…] "A great sword must have a great name, my lords! What shall I call it?"
[…] The guests were shouting out names for the new blade. Joff dismissed a dozen before he heard one he liked. "Widow's Wail!" he cried.
—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV
But she had another longsword hidden in her bedroll. She sat on the bed and took it out. Gold glimmered yellow in the candlelight and rubies smoldered red. When she slid Oathkeeper from the ornate scabbard, Brienne's breath caught in her throat. Black and red the ripples ran, deep within the steel. Valyrian steel, spell-forged. It was a sword fit for a hero. When she was small, her nurse had filled her ears with tales of valor, regaling her with the noble exploits of Ser Galladon of Morne, Florian the Fool, Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, and other champions. Each man bore a famous sword, and surely Oathkeeper belonged in their company, even if she herself did not. "You'll be defending Ned Stark's daughter with Ned Stark's own steel," Jaime had promised.
—A Feast for Crows - Brienne I
11. DANCE OF THE DRAGONS
Later, while Sansa was off listening to a troupe of singers perform the complex round of interwoven ballads called the "Dance of the Dragons," Ned inspected the bruise himself. "I hope Forel is not being too hard on you," he said.
—A Game of Thrones - Eddard VII
He sang of the Dance of the Dragons, of fair Jonquil and her fool, of Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies. He sang of betrayals, and murders most foul, of hanged men and bloody vengeance. He sang of grief and sadness.
—A Feast for Crows - Sansa I
12. MAEGOR THE CRUEL
The room where Sansa had been confined was at the top of the highest tower of Maegor's Holdfast.
—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV
In the tower room at the heart of Maegor's Holdfast, Sansa gave herself to the darkness.
—A Game of Thrones - Sansa VI
13. BAELOR THE BLESSED
"Baelor starved himself to death, fasting," said Tyrion. "His uncle served him loyally as Hand, as he had served the Young Dragon before him. Viserys might only have reigned a year, but he ruled for fifteen, while Daeron warred and Baelor prayed." He made a sour face. "And if he did remove his nephew, can you blame him? Someone had to save the realm from Baelor's follies."
Sansa was shocked. "But Baelor the Blessed was a great king. He walked the Boneway barefoot to make peace with Dorne, and rescued the Dragonknight from a snakepit. The vipers refused to strike him because he was so pure and holy."
—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV
14. AEGON THE UNWORTHY
Aegon the Unworthy had never harmed Queen Naerys, perhaps for fear of their brother the Dragonknight . . . but when another of his Kingsguard fell in love with one of his mistresses, the king had taken both their heads.
—A Storm of Swords - Sansa II
"A king can have other women. Whores. My father did. One of the Aegons did too. The third one, or the fourth. He had lots of whores and lots of bastards." As they whirled to the music, Joff gave her a moist kiss. "My uncle will bring you to my bed whenever I command it."
Sansa shook her head. "He won't."
"He will, or I'll have his head. That King Aegon, he had any woman he wanted, whether they were married or no."
—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III
15. PRINCE AEMON THE DRAGONKNIGHT
He took her by the arm and led her away from the wheelhouse, and Sansa's spirits took flight. A whole day with her prince! She gazed at Joffrey worshipfully. He was so gallant, she thought. The way he had rescued her from Ser Ilyn and the Hound, why, it was almost like the songs, like the time Serwyn of the Mirror Shield saved the Princess Daeryssa from the giants, or Prince Aemon the Dragonknight championing Queen Naerys's honor against evil Ser Morgil's slanders.
—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I
"Father, I only just now remembered, I can't go away, I'm to marry Prince Joffrey." She tried to smile bravely for him. "I love him, Father, I truly truly do, I love him as much as Queen Naerys loved Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, as much as Jonquil loved Ser Florian. I want to be his queen and have his babies."
"Sweet one," her father said gently, "listen to me. When you're old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who's worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. This match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake. That boy is no Prince Aemon, you must believe me."
—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III
She pulled a chair close to the hearth, took down one of her favorite books, and lost herself in the stories of Florian and Jonquil, of Lady Shella and the Rainbow Knight, of valiant Prince Aemon and his doomed love for his brother's queen.
—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV
For those who remained, a singer was brought forth to fill the hall with the sweet music of the high harp. He sang of Jonquil and Florian, of Prince Aemon the Dragonknight and his love for his brother's queen, of Nymeria's ten thousand ships. They were beautiful songs, but terribly sad. Several of the women began to weep, and Sansa felt her own eyes growing moist.
—A Clash of Kings - Sansa VI
16. AERYS THE MAD KING
"Ser Ilyn has not been feeling talkative these past fourteen years," Lord Renly commented with a sly smile.
Joffrey gave his uncle a look of pure loathing, then took Sansa's hands in his own. "Aerys Targaryen had his tongue ripped out with hot pincers."
—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I
"The battleground is right up ahead, where the river bends. That was where my father killed Rhaegar Targaryen, you know. He smashed in his chest, crunch, right through the armor." Joffrey swung an imaginary warhammer to show her how it was done. "Then my uncle Jaime killed old Aerys, and my father was king."
—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I
"You can't talk to me that way. The king can do as he likes."
"Aerys Targaryen did as he liked. Has your mother ever told you what happened to him?"
Ser Boros Blount harrumphed. "No man threatens His Grace in the presence of the Kingsguard."
—A Clash of Kings - Sansa III
17. RHAEGAR THE LAST DRAGON
"The battleground is right up ahead, where the river bends. That was where my father killed Rhaegar Targaryen, you know. He smashed in his chest, crunch, right through the armor." Joffrey swung an imaginary warhammer to show her how it was done.
—A Game of Thrones - Sansa I
"My father told everyone my bedding had caught fire, and our maester gave me ointments. Ointments! Gregor got his ointments too. Four years later, they anointed him with the seven oils and he recited his knightly vows and Rhaegar Targaryen tapped him on the shoulder and said, 'Arise, Ser Gregor.'"
—A Game of Thrones - Sansa II
18. BONUS: FIERY HAIR
Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair.
—A Game of Thrones - Arya I
"You will be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight, as lovely as your lady mother at your age. I cannot seat you on the dais, but you'll have a place of honor above the salt and underneath a wall sconce. The fire will be shining in your hair, so everyone will see how fair of face you are. Keep a good long spoon on hand to beat the squires off, sweetling. You will not want green boys underfoot when the knights come round to beg you for your favor."
—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I
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Treasure Hunt
*Some wholesome fun with a little Panlix tension to garnish*
~~~
We had new toys on the island. New to me anyway.
The Lost Boys and I crowded around the beach and stared out at the ship anchored on the horizon. Pirates.
Where they had come from or why there were here was a mystery to us. But one thing was for certain, they were certain to be fun. Peter ordered all of us back to camp while he spoke to the captain. Not that most of us listened anyway. We stuck around hiding at the entrance to the jungle to see what would happen.
A single rowboat came ashore with a trio of men. One was covered head to toe in tattoos, one was short and portly with a bright red hat, and the third I had to assume was the captain. He had a tall, dark, and dangerous look about him that I’m sure plenty of tavern wenches falling all over themselves.
“Holy shit,” the boy next to me muttered softly, gaze locked on the captain.
“Snap out of it, Teddy,” I slapped the back of his head, “What would Sanjit think if he saw you drooling over someone else?”
“I think he would understand.” Teddy shrugged, “Come on, even you have to admit the man looks great.”
“He looks good, I will give him that,” I peered closer, “Does he have a hook for a hand?”
“Nice,” Teddy grinned wider. I slapped him again.
Peter and the captain talked and argued before the captain and his men got back into their boat and left for their ship. Peter turned around and addressed us hiding in the trees. “You can come out now you disobedient tree stumps,”
Half of the boys fled at having been found out while the rest of us emerged. “So what brings them here?” I asked first.
“Youth and revenge, not the first time I’ve come across that salty sailor. Have to say, he has a lot more backbone as a pirate than he did when I first met him.” Peter said. “Captain Hook he calls himself now. Sounds much more fun than leftenant Jones.”
“Is the revenge he craves against you?” Felix asked. “I could see him blaming his brother��s death on you.”
“No. He’s upset about that for sure, but apparently the Dark One killed his lover and cut off his hand. That’s who he wants to get revenge against. Figured he would have more than enough time staying here while he concocted something. Idiot doesn’t even have a way back. It’s clear he didn’t think any of this through.” Peter scoffed with a smile. “His idiocy is our gain. Tell me, what do pirates always have?”
“Drinking problems?”
“Yes, but not what I was looking for.”
“Big hats.”
“No.”
“Terrible songs!”
“Treasure!” Peter snapped, “They have treasure!”
“Oh...that makes more sense.” I nodded. “What is treasure to us? Not like we have any shops to purchase things from using any of their shiny baubles.”
“True. But it means a great deal more to them.” Peter grinned. “Tomorrow morning, we’re gonna go on a treasure hunt.”
When we got back to camp those of us that stuck around informed the others about what had happened with Peter and the pirates. Many of them were excited about the idea of a treasure hunt. By the time dawn broke the camp was abuzz with anticipation.
“Morning everyone,” Peter greeted his camp, “Last night your fearless leader, me, snuck aboard the pirate’s ship and stole their chest of treasure right out from under their nose.” The camp whooped with cheer. Peter held up his hand to silence the boys. “I have now hidden it somewhere on the island. First person to find it is King for the day. That is...if any of you flopping codfish can find it.”
The boys jeered and raced off in all directions to find the treasure. I had started to run off with them when I remembered I didn’t have a weapon. Knowing the boys they would get violent and try to steal the treasure from one another when it was found. I needed something to defend myself with. I turned around to head back to the now abandoned camp.
I ducked into my tent to find a suitable weapon when I heard voices in the camp. I poked my head out and saw Felix and Peter were the only ones still around. I understood why Peter was still here but why was Felix?
“How long do you think they’ll be out searching for the treasure?” Felix asked Peter.
“They’ll search all day and probably into the night before giving up.” Peter laughed, “The whole time they’re digging around dark caves and in rotten tree trunks the chest is safely buried by the mermaid lagoon. None of them are going near there and even if they do none of them will think to start digging.”
“Maybe I should go dig it up then,” Felix said, “Let myself be crowned king for the day.”
“Now where is the fun in that? Let them struggle for a good while first.” Peter looked around the camp and I quickly closed the flap of my tent. I don’t think he would be too happy about my eavesdropping. “It’s nice to have some peace and quiet around here for once. The noise can get grating at times.”
“I understand that better than most,” Felix’s voice answered. “Even rarer that our Lost Girl isn’t hanging about. Seems she sticks around you more than usual.”
“Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Felix?”
“You’re not funny.”
“I’m hilarious and she’s a good friend.” Peter said. “I still cannot believe that you and those other idiots thought that we were interested in one another. As if I would actually even want to be with her.”
Okay. Ouch. And incorrect! He was the one that assumed that I was confessing my love to him the night I came out to him and said he was okay trying to have a romantic relationship with me. We agreed it wouldn’t work out between us after I told him I was gay but this was needless slander. Got to keep up appearances for the boys I suppose. Can’t let them know he actually considered me at some point. However brief it may have been.
“Not your type, huh?” Felix joked.
“No…” Peter said, “Has a lot of traits I do like. She’s straightforward, bloodthirsty, knows how to have fun, doesn’t take any of my shit, which is refreshing,”
“What are you talking about? I don’t take any of your bullshit either.” Felix said, his voice rising a tad.
“I know, Felix, that’s part of the reason I like you too.”
The camp was silent.
“You know, makes you a good friend too, a great second in command.” Peter continued after a beat.
“Good to know,” Felix sighed. “I’m going to refill my canteen.”
“Felix--”
“What?” Felix snapped at him. The harshness in his tone made even me freeze and it wasn’t even directed at me.
“Nothing…” Peter’s steps receded, “I’m going to go watch the boys run in circles.”
“Yeah, you do that.” Felix muttered before trudging off.
I waited a few more minutes before poking my head out to make sure the coast was clear. That was something. Those two have more issues than I thought. If they could get a nudge in the right direction--no! No! I am not getting myself involved in their problems.
I grabbed the sword I had come to retrieve and fled the camp. At the very least I know where the treasure is now! I ran towards the mermaid lagoon. It was deserted of Lost Boys but I could see the ripple in the water of the mermaids lurking right below the the surface, waiting and hoping I would venture closer so they could pull me down and drown me. I only made that mistake once when I was very new on the island. They were very pretty and I thought maybe they would be friendly towards a girl. I was soon proven how very wrong I was when one of them pulled me under the water and the Lost Boys had to come in and rescue me before I drowned.
Scanning the sand I found a patch that looked like it had been pretty recently disturbed. I started digging with my hands until I felt the solid weight of wood. I dug around it until the very top was uncovered. How was I supposed to get it out by myself? It was firmly stuck in the ground and getting it free by myself would be near impossible.
Maybe I could just grab something to prove that I had found it and cover it back up. I dug my hand down into the sand for the latch and pried it open. Inside laid a wealth of gold coins, gems, jewelry, and other shiny baubles. I stuffed a handful of coins and gems in my pocket and slid a pair of shining, jewel encrusted bracelets onto my wrists. That should be enough. I closed the lid and covered the chest once more. I decided to mess with the boys while waiting for it to grow later and dropped random coins and jewels around the jungle so they would think they were heading in the right direction.
By the time night fell the boys had returned to camp despondent. Some holding up the coins and jewels I had strewn about with a small amount of disdain. Peter was back to his jovial self but looked confused at the boys holding coins. Surely he hadn’t let anything fall out when he stole the chest.
That was my cue. I strolled into the middle of the camp and raised my glittering wrists to the sky. “Bow before your queen!”
“What?” Peter gaped at me. “There’s no way you found the chest!”
“Oh but I did,” I dug into my pockets and tossed the remaining coins I had onto the ground. “That chest was so big and heavy though I couldn’t take the whole thing myself but I think this is sufficient enough evidence.”
“Wait, were you the one leaving coins and jewels all over the island?” one of the boys pointed at me, accusingly.
“Duh,” I rolled my eyes, “I needed to have my own fun.”
“Never let it be said that I’m not a man of my word,” Peter gave an exaggerated bow, “Our dear Lost Girl shall be Queen for the day...or at least for the rest of the night.”
Some of the boys cheered, a lot more of the jealous boys booed. I didn’t care. I basked in the attention and laughed with the others at the silly antics the boys did to entertain their “queen” like court jesters. It was all in good fun, Peter even fashioned me a crown of sticks and leaves.
I pulled him over to dance with me. “So,” I spoke up to be heard over the pounding music, “How long till the pirates find out you stole their treasure and come to hunt us down for taking it?”
“Who knows,” Peter shrugged, “it’s sure to be fun though.”
I laughed along with him as the night grew late and my night of queendom came to an end. The game would begin again tomorrow but with the chest in a new spot. Looks as if I’ll actually have to hunt for it this time. Not a problem, I liked a good challenge.
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Widojest - Kingcup 🌼🌼
hello i'm sorry this took a while, i am in a perpetual state of getting back into writing and it took a bit to orient myself. but now i am done! kinda early/mid campaign setting. hope you enjoy <33
kingcup - youth, innocence, dawn (from this flower prompts list! send me one!)(also now on ao3!)
“Oh Caleb, Caleb, look!” Jester nudges his shoulder, then shakes his arm, then points in front of them, finger wagging and – okay, he gets the message, “I told you it would happen soon!”
Over the course of the past hour the sky has slowly gone from black to silvery grey, and now a pale blue. The first tinges of the sun poke their way above the tree line before them in buttery yellows, birds calling out their first songs, the sound of crickets slowly dying away. From their position on top of a shallow slope, Caleb has an easy view of the meadow below and the shadow of a bunny as it leaps into the grass.
“That is because I told you that it was five in the morning,” Caleb frowns, “And because then I told you that the sun usually rises around five in the morning.”
“Well yeah, but I got the time more…” She pauses, searching for a word, and then, “Precisely.”
“Sure.” Caleb sighs and thinks that if he wanted to he could tell her that really, he knew he exact minute the sun would rise, he knows the exact minute the sun will rise every morning, but – thinks better of it. Best to let the conversation drop. He’d probably end up blushing from something Jester said, anyways.
“You want anything?” Jester roots around in her satchel on her lap, pulling out various mostly stale food items to offer to him. “I’ve got scones, I’ve got granola, I’ve got – oh!” And she comes up grinning, holding a decrepit, but vaguely recognizable pastry in her hand. “Bearclaws! Here,” she says, and tears it in half, a good quarter of the pastry disintegrating into crumbs in the process, “Take some!”
She only pushes it further beneath his nose when he hesitates, so he reluctantly reaches out and takes it from her hand. It is dry. And flecked with more than one piece of lint. When he bites into it, it doesn’t taste nearly as good as the day it was bought in Zadash. It will have to do for now.
“Danke,” he says, around a mouthful of pastry.
“You’re welcome.” She grins, sugar sticking the corners of her mouth. She leans back on one hand, stacks one boot on top of the other, and looks back out at the sky. “This is the only good part of third watch.”
He hums in agreement, basking in the scene of the sunrise with her for a moment – and it is beautiful, the sunrise, ribbons of gold weaving around and peeking out between the sparse clouds – before saying, “What, you don’t like waking up before the crack of dawn?”
Jester scoffs. “Do I look like a morning person to you?” She levels a look at him, gestures with a pastry-filled hand in a circle around her face, “Does this face look like it loves to get up early in the morning?”
In the soft light of daybreak, he can just make out every unbecoming detail of her features – the uncombed hair, the puffy bags beneath the still-waking eyes, the lines of a blanket imprinted on the side of her face. And yet, she is the one who has not stopped talking since four in the morning. “No,” he says, “I suppose not.”
“You suppose correctly.” She takes another bite of the bearclaw, birds chirping and mist lifting in the time it takes her to chew, the first strands of golden light beginning to take home on her face and glinting on the jewelry in her hair. She swallows, and looks to him, and it is altogether extremely disarming. “What about you? Are you a morning person?”
“Oh, well, I guess so.” He frowns down at his stale pastry, stepping very carefully around very specific memories. “It is the way I grew up, you know, the body doesn’t really – “ A sharp clearing of the throat. “Forget. I guess.”
“Oh!” Jester says, then pauses. “What were… where did you, ah, grow up?”
Caleb inhales, as if the air can gather itself inside his chest and protect it like a cage. “A farm.” He looks up at her. “My family’s farm.”
She hums, nodding her head, looking altogether very nonchalant, and he is very grateful that she is a very good liar. “Did you… milk cows?”
“Er, ja.” He says, and decidedly does not get caught up in the amusement of the conversation. “I did lots of things, but yes, I milked cows.”
She snickers, lips splitting into a grin like a flower in bloom, and admittedly twice as pretty. “I like that. You, milking cows.”
“Ja, well, it is part of the job. Like carding wool and tilling the soil.” He tries to stare forward, at the rising sun, at the gorgeous field of wildflowers and tall grass now dappled in beams of sunlight, but – Jester is still laughing at the idea of him milking cows, so he looks at her instead. And tries very hard not to smile. “I do not know what is so funny to you, Jester.”
She bites her lips together, and when that does not work to stop the laughter, covers a hand to her mouth, and when that does not work, takes another, from the sight of it, altogether too large bite of pastry. It only muffles the sound. She is still laughing and still looking at him, though now rather helplessly as crumbs begin to fall out of her mouth and onto her sleep-rumpled clothes, and – now he is grinning. Damn.
He tries to school his face for the moment, to instead look at her incredulously and raise his eyebrows. It does not work very well. “That really got you, hm? The idea of me milking cows?”
She scrunches up her face in the desperate ordeal of trying to chew, and then swallow, but he guesses that it is hard to do so around the laughter that is still shaking her entire torso. She clears her throat, hunched over, dark hair falling to the sides of her face, and comes up with a reluctant grin. “I’m sorry.” She coughs again, between giggles. “It is just a really funny thought, I mean – “ and she coughs again, “You’re such a spindly guy, you know, the thought of you doing like, manual farm labor is just,” she giggles, “just – “
He raises his eyebrows at her. “Hilarious?”
She quickly raises her hands in the air. “You said it, not me!”
He shakes his head and looks away, because she is insulting and quite childish and beginning to make him laugh. Though now the sun has risen above the horizon and is not yet behind the leaves of a nearby tree, and looking ahead is blinding. He places a hand to shade the sun and ignores the residual giggles beside him.
Jester dusts off her hands, cinnamon and sugar cascading into the grass, winking in the sun as it falls. “That was a good bearclaw,” she says, and then, rooting around in her satchel, “Did you want another one, Caleb?”
“Oh, nein,” he looks down to the half of forgotten pastry in his hand, “Nein, I am good, Jester, but – “ He risks looking at her, the sneak. “Thank you.”
She raises her eyebrows, and the scone she holds in her hand to her mouth. “Alright man, your loss.” She takes a bite of the pastry and stale crumbs tumble onto her caplet from her mouth. So unseemly. So carefree.
He takes a bite of his own, carefully holding the twisted layers of cinnamon and sugar between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. There are some things he cannot unlearn, like the prim table manners befitting to an emissary of the Empire, like his mother’s stern condescension at having to use good soap to wash his one winter coat free of food stains, again. He eyes the small pastry’s worth of crumbs falling onto the fine embroidery of Jester’s skirt beside him, and wonders what exactly her mother was like, to raise her on habits such as that.
The sun keeps rising, and when Jester asks how long they have left on their watch, to the second, because it’s both cool and creepy that you know that, he obliges. And he obliges when she asks him about northern winters, which are cold, and about his favorite books, which are too many to describe. She laughs at him more than once, and he smiles again. More than once.
It’s a disgrace, the amount he enjoys sitting next to her.
#widojest#widojest fic#the mortifying ordeal of writing literally anything#anyways my butt has been kicked back into gear so thank you for sending this in!! wj week here we come
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here is just a taste of something i have been writing for about a week. it’s all about essek, of course. (and wow it is wip wednesday, nice)
post canon, a look into some conversations that essek has as he continues his life- first starting with reani.
---
Uthodurn is not what he expected. Being in the Dynasty for so long, he got used to the mundane. Exandria as a whole, was anything but.
It's only been a few weeks since he's left the Mighty Nein. Admittedly, he is unsure of whether or not to actually meet Reani again. Their first meeting was something he'd rather not think about, and yet it's the only substantial thing he has in his mind to inform him of who she is.
While they weren’t as close to him when they had Reani in their company, they trusted him enough to teleport her as well. She appeared as joyous as Jester, with a hint of nervousness.
Leaving Eiselcross once again is much easier this time. While it isn’t exactly a safe haven for him, it was a comfort to be far away from the Dynasty.
Jester does message him a few times, as he settles into the new place. She gives him tips as well as suggestions for sightseeing.
Yes. He will remember the bakery.
Currently, he must remember a certain address. Given to him by a citizen, he is almost positive this is where Reani is residing.
It just so happens that she isn’t home. Typical. He chooses not to linger around the house like a creeper, and opts for seeking out a particular bakery. Perhaps if he offers baked goods it would be a good approach?
After he purchases a few baked goods, he finds a section of the crossroads that isn't so busy. He is disguised, just as a regular brown skinned elf with brown hair and golden accoutrements. He pulls out his wire for a Sending spell.
“Reani? This is Essek. Friend of the Mighty Nein. I was told I could find you in Uthodurn. I’m looking to do some work.”
A jubilant response fills his mind almost right away: “Oh! Hot boi? ...Sorry. That’s awkward. I mean.. You are hot! I am getting back from a mission but you can wait at my house-”
He can’t help the smile that appears on his face. Looks like he might have to send another one. Perhaps this won’t be so bad. Even if they’ve only talked once- twice now- it is fine. This will work.
“Excuse me. The spell has a word limit. No worries, I have your address. I will wait for you. I am disguised: elf, brown hair, gold jewelry.”
He cringes a bit at the end of his message. Is it wise to mention the obvious elephant in the room? He chooses to not dwell on this. Instead, he moves towards her house once more.
It doesn’t take too long, as he notices the bouncy step of a golden dressed, brown skinned aasimar. His memory isn’t as sharp as Caleb’s, but it’s easy to remember the girl. She gives him a wave as she bounds towards him.
Oh no.
He realizes too late that there are two other people following behind her, also seemingly full of energy.
He can’t do this. This is too much.
He has to stop his eyes from rolling as Reani stops in front of him, striking a pose as the other two of her friends also come to a stop. “We are here to save the day!”
“That’s still a lame line,” her friend on the left, a dwarven lady with tan skin and a black beard frowns.
On the other side of Reani, a purple tiefling with red hair smiles devilishly. “You’re just mad that you didn’t get the kill on that wretched beast.”
“Shut up!”
A grin starts forming before he can stop it.
Oh Light above. Is this how he will act towards any semblance of a group that reminds him of his friends? This is his curse now, isn’t it?
This art of caring, of feeling emotions towards other people, no… it is not a curse. It is a blessing for sure.
#critical role#cr fic#essek thelyss#shadowgast does happen in this but.. later#reani and essek#note: this is just a part of a much larger fic - but i hope someone enjoys this
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6, 42, 67 for anyone you'd like! :3
'Anyone' you say? Well, how about all three of my elves? >:D
Thank you so much for the ask! Let's gooooo! *jumps down the rabbit hole*
6. What is one word you would use to describe your OC’s appearances?
Fane - Ethereal.
This may come across as biased since he's my OC, but Fane is not your average looking elf. He's taller, taller than the Dalish, taller than Solas. He's built, but nowhere near built like Bull is. More like he's around what a Sentinel would possess. His facial features are a mix between what he observed from the Elvhen and what he once was, making most people do a double take when they happen to pass by him. Every part of him 'links up', creating a mystery of a man. Fane is an ethereal being because the means that he came about were just that--ethereal.
Mhairi - Serene.
Mhairi has a very, very approachable appearance. She has a bit of a 'natural' smile that, most times, matches how she feels. Her eyes, while very cool in hue, always carry its own smile, crinkling at the corners and sparkling like melting icicles. She tends to rock back and forth with her hands clasped behind her back, or swing her arms whilst doing on singular spin on her heel. She's also a bit of a craft maker, and what she makes, she wears. Pendants, bracelets, anklets, charms, hair accessories--you name it, she endeavors to wear it, and when she does, it makes her even more approachable because people want to know. Mhairi enjoys being open, warm and when people respond to that positively, she's at peace, helping her feel what she reflects.
Cyfrin - Dangerous
Now, this may seem odd. Or, maybe not since I haven't really showcased Cyfrin a whole lot. XD But, Cyfrin isn't just this mischievous, jovial, jester-like elf. He's dangerous because he knows how to use his appearance to his advantage. A smile's always plastered on his face--a mask to hide behind, a bit of strength to weather verbal blows he's all too familiar with from growing up in an alienage. His eyes are a molten, honey color, appearing friendly, open, warm, but in depths only Fane can discern, there's bitter, bitter resentment. Cyfrin's one of those people you would say, 'Their eyes don't match their smile' to, but only if you knew him like Fane or Mhairi does. But even then, it's hard to see the danger in amber. His hair, raven and always wavy, always just to his jawline, acts as both a pleasant feature and a hood. A tilt down, and Cyfrin can see everyone without anyone seeing him. He watches, he seethes, and lets the resentment slip through from behind black strands, eyes narrowing, smile going flat. That is, until someone approaches him and the mask slips right back on without a single hiccup. Dangerous--dangerous as a viper just about to strike is.
42. What makes your OC happy?
Fane - Crafting arms or armor or watching Solas paint or sketch. Fane's a creative creature at heart, and he's always been fascinated by Elvhen frescoes, even as a dragon. How they tell a story, how they can't be altered due to being bonded to the wall; it brings him peace.
Mhairi - Baking or crafting jewelry. Baking brings a sense of home to her, a memory of more innocent days before death came knocking. And it's the one thing she knows will bring a tiny smile to Fane's face. :3
Cyfrin - Playing musical instruments or wandering around in a market. Orlais wasn't all bad for Cyfrin. He used to traipse around Val Royeaux's rooftops, keeping a distance from humans, but content at watching them bustle, barter, and create. Sometimes a quiet refrain would reach his ears, a lute, a voice, a piano, and he'd start to hum to the melody without thinking. And it was what ultimately led Cyfrin to save up and buy a lute of his own. He taught himself how to play by listening to any number of songs he heard until it became as natural as breathing for him. :3
67. What is your OC’s favorite sweet?
Fane - All of them. But, if we're only going with one, then chocolate. Be it a cake, cookie, tart, Fane indulges without reservation. It's something he tries to hide, however because 'oh no! we can't let anyone know a dragon stuffs their face with mortal confections!' but where there's a will, there's a way, and Josephine conveniently finds out through a 'passing' comment from Solas. *smiles* Fane grumbles while continuing to stuff his face.
Mhairi - Danishes. Mainly, danishes filled with fruit. :3 Mhairi's not really into very rich, very indulgent treats like Fane is. She likes milder sweets, just a whisper of sugar to make her tongue tingle, and fruit wrapped with a soft, flaky dough does that for her.
Cyfrin - He's impartial to sweets, oddly enough. Occasionally he'll have a small pastry, swiping it from the kitchens in Skyhold first thing in the morning, but Cyfrin's more of a savory food guy. Meat and potatoes, gravy and bread, and most importantly, lots of it. That's the type of foodie Cyfrin is! :3
#asks#oc asks#oc: fane lavellan#oc: mhairi lavellan#oc: cyfrin azurel#i REALLY need to write more with these three together or even individually#especially cyfrin because seriously. i have SO many ideas for him#*sighs tiredly* where is the time~? where has it gone~?#one day i will have the time i need and want! :3#for now though. i ramble. >:3#thank you again for the ask! <3#dragon age#dai
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I’ve lost to temptation so here it is
My interpretation of magolor lets fucking go
So first section: How this bitch works
So Magolor is from Halcandria, a planet who’s core is essentially magic. There’s so much magic on this single planet that it leaked into the life and even some objects that could contain it. Magolor is no exception. Magic energy is essentially stored in a second heart (tho it’s more of a container than a heart), and runs through the body very similar to blood. It’s created and flows through his body, and allows for things like his eye glow, floating, and obviously powers. When he’s asleep, it regenerates. If there’s already enough magic energy while he’s asleep, it disposes of the old magic mostly by floating in sleep or by more severe means like insomnia aka magical overdose (which I’ve gone over before).
Next, is the glowing eyes!! Why he have that, I’ll tell ya. It makes it easier to detect other halcandrians as well as make it easier to detect light such as fire. Which is very useful when you need to look through ashy clouds and make sure a giant rock isn’t about to slam into you from above. It’s also a way to show the health of a halcandrian. Though the eyes glow yellow, they have a brown color very similar to their fur. If they’re sick or very unhealthy, they lose their glow and it slowly reverts to the brown color.
As a side effect of the master crown though, Magolor’s magic energy got boosted by the crown so he didn’t just die instantly by overwhelming power. It sounds like a good thing on paper, having so much energy to the point where he can fight non stop without getting tired magically, but magic overdose due to him not being able to deplete enough of it fast enough is a bitch. He gets sick a lot easier, bad insomnia, as well as occasionally using magic without realizing. So this clears out how he works and shit!! Now onto...
Before RTDL
So before RTDL Magolor had little social skills or experience with interacting with other people that wasnt lying to them to get them to do stuff. It was just how Halcandria worked. People kept to themselves and if you needed help you’d have to twist the truth in order to convince them. Relationships of any kind are very rare in Halcandria as well.
So when he met Marx, it was weird. He originally planned to let him stay until he got better and told him about why he was found in a Nova’s wreckage, so he could hopefully get Marx to lead him to something else he could use to defeat Landia. It didn’t go as planned. Marx was an unpredictable dude who immeadiatly fell for Magolor (but mags didn’t notice cause he’s never experienced someone else crushing or a crush) and due to that Marx spent a lot of time with Magolor during recovery and grew on him. He also ended up showing Magolor what friendship was, and honestly: magolor liked it. He liked having someone around. It was a nice change, and it was nice to have someone around to help (and rarely give him affection). So, Magolor wanted Marx to rule the universe with him once he killed Landia. He didn’t want Marx to leave. Though things started going downhill when an accident happened one time while exploring and Magolor was distracted, leaving to Marx having to use Nova’s power to make sure Magolor was safe.
And Magolor was fascinated, and god he was excited. He pried Marx for questions about his wings, constantly stared at them when they were out, and started talking about if he and Marx used their combined powers they could finally kill Landia and get what they want. But Marx didn’t want to. His want for power by then left, and he knew the consequences. He was happy just hanging out with Mags, and didn’t want to risk his life fighting a dragon with a crown of infinite power. But Magolor, despite liking the change of company, was used to being a loner and believed he could do it again since he’s halcandrian. He said Marx could leave if he didn’t want to, and that was when Marx started to see just how desperate Magolor was for the Master Crown. It was all too similar to his own desperation with Nova, and all words were useless and failed to change Magolor’s mind. So Marx left, and Magolor continued. He felt a little bad (and lonely) but pushed it down and decided no turning back and opted to modifying the Starcutter more like a weapon and attacking Landia that way, but failing.
Though he had a backup plan, thanks to Marx. Which brings me to..
The Betrayal
So this is RTDL time, before the betrayal. His back up plan was going to the pink hero Marx ranted about and using them to get the crown. After all, if they could defeat someone with the gift of Nova’s power, they could defeat a wyvern with a crown. They landed, and Magolor met everyone, but he couldn’t stop thinking about a certain someone. Chilly, who volunteered to stay with him while the others collected the spheres and parts (tho it was because he was suspicious). Mags didn’t know this, and assumed he was being nice. So the second person who (he thought) was being friendly with him enough to stay with him, and fill that hole Marx accdientally left by leaving him. He couldn’t not get attatched. He became REALLY REALLY clingy, and did as much as he could to keep himself focused as well as make sure they were friends. It backfired, making Chilly agitated most of the time, but it also semi worked later on. Most of his time between the betrayal and his crash landing was spent monitoring everyone’s progress, and trying to get Chilly to like him so he could do what he had to do during the betrayal.
Now during the betrayal! The closer he got to achieving the crown again, the more desperate and ooc he got. By the time he was at Halcandria, there’d be no way to talk him out of it, since he was THIS close. But there was still one thing wrong that he assumed the crown would fix: he couldn’t go back to being alone. He assumed he would adjust, since that’s how it’s been for his whole life. But now, that he’s actually had two people really close to him (and one leave) that showed him affection and didn’t only use him like in Halcandria, he didn’t want to go back to being alone. He couldn’t. But he came too far to turn back, and continued anyway (not like he ever changed his mind, but he did have moments of doubt). He told Chilly to stay in the Starcutter, wanting to keep him safe, which obviously didn’t go well for him when Chilly responded with freezing the ship from the inside to stop Magolor from using it in its attacks.
And of course, when Magolor sees this, he has a moment of “oh shit I can’t let him do this. I can’t lose someone else.” And tries to convince Chilly to join him. He talks about the two of them ruling and even giving Chilly Popstar to rule. He means it. He wants someone with him, somebody that he genuinely loves and treats him like a friend. He assumed that if he didn’t force Chilly into working with him like Marx, he would join in the end. And like any person with common sense, Chilly denies, loyal to Kirby and Popstar. THIS was the moment Magolor became truly desperate, he tries to convince Chilly to join him but he can barely get any words other than “but you were only friend” out while crying (in the middle of battle lol). Kirby and everyone take this chance to attack, while Magolor is just kind of broken. He fucked up again.
And he’ll be alone.
He has one thing left now, and that’s the power to rule the universe.
And he’s desperate to have this one thing go right for him, and he uses the remaining power of the Master Crown... which brings me to the next topic!
The Master Crown
Full section for the master crown let’s go. It gets its dark power from a leader/creator of dark matter (think 0), and is sentient. It only knows to shroud the world in darkness, and will do whatever it takes to get it. It’s powers are held at bay by Landia, who is Halcandria’s guardian and can resist its powers due to being a magic guardian. Magolor however, isn’t a magic guardian, and can’t resist. To him, it’s a shiny piece of jewelry that’ll make him strong so things can finally go his way.
The way it works is by drawing people in, like a venus fly trap. It just amplify people’s interest in it, as well as bring out the more negative traits about them that makes them easier to control. The most common traits is desperation, impulsiveness, frustration, and determination. And once the crown is on their head, it locks on and is irremovable and works like a parasite, basically completely erasing whoever put it on and molding them to the perfect puppet. Magolor essentially just sped up the process completely by using the last of its power in a desperate attempt to get what he wanted.
After the Betrayal
Magolor, after the betrayal, is left just floating around Another Dimension. He’s exhausted, in a lot of pain, and completely magically drained. He couldn’t even float if he tried, and that uses the bare minimum of magic. He’s stuck here for a long time, and at first, he’s extremely frustrated and upset. He spends a lot of time replaying the events in his head (not magolor soul, he has no memories of that aside from snippets that come into his dreams that are partially due to the master crown’s lasting effect) and just getting more and more angry at everything. He was so close to having control over EVERYTHING, and he lost it over himself the second he used the rest of the power. He was infuriated that he manged to let that stupid puffball beat him, along with their friends.
He cries, screams, shouts, but it doesn’t matter. Rage can only last so long, and it’s not much before he’s just exhausted and tired. He’s given up on escaping, knowing he can’t. He cant form a dimensional portal strong enough to pull him out of a dimension. He only has the skill to use it for teleportation. After a few days, he’s accepted what happened, that this is his fate. He hates being alone, floating in space with no silly jester to crack a joke or scratch his head, and no snowman who’s bell jingled with an adorable tune whenever he laughed and even gave him hugs. He ends up getting habits of scratching his head (despite the pain because of master crown injuries) and hugging himself as a way to fill that hole the two left when leaving. He misses them, and starts to regret going after the crown in the first place. He comes up with scenarios in his head to pass the time as he basically waits for himself to rot. He imagines apologizing and having his friends back. He imagines Marx somehow finding him similar to how Magolor found him. He imagines not being alone, and being happy. Not plagued by agonizing exhaustion and self fury. He even comes to miss Kirby and their friend one he actually realizes the kindness they showed him, since he was too focused before to realize.
He spends a few days in the hell dimension before he finds something. He ends up finding an energy sphere that floats past that was lost during the battle. He grabs and clings to it, now having only one thing from before. It doesn’t make the loneliness any better, but it does make things a little less bareable. But of course, energy spheres are a sphere doomer’s favorite snack, and it doesn’t take long before one comes along really wanting it.
Magolor at first, pushes it away desperate to keep this one thing he had before, and the sphere doomer keeps coming back desperately wanting its food. Eventually, Magolor and the sphere doomer form a slight bond since this was when Magolor started slowly regaining magic again and tries attacking it with his revolution orbs, but it’s just a treat for the sphere doomer. The sphere doomer keeps coming back for more treats and another attempt at a snack, and Magolor feels a little less lonely. Over time, he actually gains enough of its trust to pet it and even talks to it. He names her Lor II.
Lor II is the reason he gets out of Another Dimension and back to Halcandria, via opening a rift. Lor II basically gives Magolor a second chance to make things right, and he immeadiatly takes it. Of course, he has to steal the Starcutter to do it, but he makes his way to Popstar to apologize, because he REALLY regrets his major fuck up and at the very least, he can make things better (and maybe get a chance at being less lonely).
So that’s all I got lmao hope you enjoyed
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Chapter 11: Make Yourself at Home
“So, this is the place you were talking about, huh? I’m not going to lie, it’s much better than I expected.”
“Aw, thanks! It’s my momma’s cabin. She owns a bunch of places around here, but this is the closest one to school.”
“A bunch of places? What a lucky woman.”
“Wait ‘til you find out what else she owns.” Nott draped her coat over the nearest hook. “Lucky doesn’t even start to cover it.”
The rest of the gang filed in through the door.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Beau began with a grin, “I wouldn’t mind staying the night in a—"
“Anyway,” Fjord coughed into his hand. “Isn’t there something more important we should talk about?”
“That is right.” Caleb turned to Molly. “Namely, what it is we should do about…well, you.”
“Is that so?” Without looking back, their newest cabin-mate strode into the living room. He threw himself across Beau’s favorite chair. “Good luck with that, then. I’ll be here in the meantime.”
“In the meantime? What’s that supposed to mean?” Beau followed him in and made a mental vow to steal her seat back as soon as possible.
Molly waved his hand. “I was under the impression that your…angel would be taking care of things. That’s her new job, isn’t it? To mask me from bikers?”
“Only for now.” Yasha met his gaze with a stern frown. “I cannot look after you forever. I will not even be here for much longer.”
“Which would be our second problem,” Caleb sighed. Behind him, Jester—and for some reason, Caduceus—danced around looking for bedsheets and extra toothbrushes, the hallmarks of an excellent host.
“Right,” said Beau. “We sort of left off on a…I hate to say it, but sort of a dead end.”
“Really? Weren’t you working something out?” Nott asked. “What about all that stuff with the dictionary, Caleb? And those star charts?”
“Those are only a start,” he shrugged. “With our current level of information, it is not enough. Like I said…when was it now, yesterday?”
“It felt like years ago.” Fjord combed dirt out of his hair.
“Regardless,” Caleb continued, “we need more clues. Something. Anything. At this point I would even take subjective commentary. Like the way the sun felt. Or if there was much sun at all, Yasha.”
“You mean like if she was on the moon?” Nott asked.
“I mean like if there was a lot of shade. Like in a jungle.”
They turned to Yasha. She sighed.
“I’m not sure, I…” she squeezed her eyes shut, “…I think…yes, the sun. It…felt warm.”
When she opened her eyes, they were still staring. “Er….”
Caleb came to her rescue. “Okay, perhaps I should have been less literal. Sorry, Engel, but that was not very helpful.”
“Pajamas!” Jester spun back into the living room. Behind her, Caduceus was holding a tray of tea, topped off with a little jar of honey. “Here you are, Molly!” She leaned over the couch. “And let me say again, welcome to our house! Demon of not, I think you’re great. I’m excited to hang out with you some more!”
“Ah, you’re a darling,” he flashed her a smile. “I can already tell you’ll be my favorite. Although, perhaps, I think I’ll be better company once I’m clean. If you all are going to keep talking about…whatever important thing you’re talking about, I’d like to use this opportunity to shower.”
“Oh, yeah, here,” Fjord quickly stood up. “You can borrow my shampoo, the bathroom’s there—"
The two of them wandered off. Caduceus handed everyone else their mugs.
“Let’s keep going tomorrow,” Caleb said, trying on his most reassuring smile. “Who knows? We might find something after all. And with more time, Yasha, you might regain more memories.”
It was small, but Beau noticed Yasha skip past his gaze to stare deep into her cup.
“Maybe,” she said. “I hope so. Otherwise…”
“It’ll be okay,” Caduceus smiled. “In my experience, the best things come with time.”
— — —
Beauregard lingered by herself in the hallway outside their room. Currently, Jester and Fjord were giving a freshly-washed Molly the grand tour of the cabin while Caleb and Caduceus—with varying degrees of contribution—rearranged their room to accommodate him. And since Nott was calling her family in the living room, this would probably be Beau’s best chance to talk to Yasha alone.
She breathed in.
Nearly every conversation they’d had since the initial fall had ended in a tangled mess. Not to mention, Yasha’s situation had changed dramatically in the last few hours. On top of that, Beau was still roiling in guilt for lying to her all those days ago. It was very likely that neither of them would be in the right headspace for a heart-to-heart, and that wasn’t even taking into account how nauseous Beau felt at that very phrase—“heart-to-heart.”
Something else was poking at her too, something she’d had to shove aside earlier but now couldn’t shake away: it had been a while since she’d seen Yasha’s wings, but she knew for a fact that the first two times, they had been…well, they had been white—
And coupled with the fact that the angel only recently had started acting so anxious to leave, whereas before she’d been confused, but way more relaxed…
Beau breathed out and stared at the floor. Maybe it was time to stop wondering about what her own motivations were. Caleb, Fjord, and Jester had all made valid points, but truth be told, she was starting to get the sense that right now, how she felt wasn’t as important.
Still, the question did remain. What would she rather do?
“Yasha?” She tapped her knuckles on the doorframe. Sitting up, and dimly framed in moonlight, Yasha’s mighty silhouette turned.
Maybe she’d always known the answer.
“Beauregard. Hello. Is it time for bed?”
“No, uh…no, probably not for a while.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I think Jes is showing off her mom’s jewelry. Fjord tagged along—it’s probably to be polite, but also to make sure Molly won’t steal anything. They’ll be at that for an hour at best.”
“It is good for Fjord to be careful,” Yasha nodded. “Though I am more worried about your souls being stolen than jewelry.”
“Yeah, uh, that thought also crossed my mind.” She made her way inside. “I mean, I’m mostly…not worried at all, but—wait, should I be worried? Do you think that’ll happen?”
Yasha thought about it. “He already knows your names, which is…not great. But as long as you do not make any promises, I think you should be fine. Do not shake his hand. No matter what he says.”
“Really? Like…metaphorically?”
“Either. Both. Deals are bad.”
Beau sat down on the wooden dresser beside Yasha’s makeshift cot. Even at this angle, Yasha was still taller.
“You’ve said stuff like that before,” she remembered. “You told me that ‘your kind’ had been corrupted that way. Right? Because they dealt with us?”
“Sort of. There is less blame on you, it is…just that mortal souls are powerful.” Yasha ran her fingers through her hair. “Basically…the short version is that there are pieces of light that exist inside you, light from the very essence of our world. It fuels us, and it keeps us alive, but too much and it can drive us mad. We lose sight of everything else in pursuit of more and more and…more of that light.”
Beau let her words sink in. “Yikes.”
“Yes. That is why we have so many rules. Why demons are dangerous. Why I am risking so much by staying here.”
Beau tilted her head. “Do you feel mad?”
Yasha didn’t answer right away. And then Beau steeled herself, she said—
“Your, uh, wings—"
Yasha went still.
It would not have been hard to miss. But Beau had spent so much time together with her in the last few days that when her breathing stopped, her shoulders stiffened, her eyes affixed to the sheets—
“Shit, I-I’m sor—"
“You know what is happening then?”
Yasha’s voice was a quaver. Beau paused.
“I…really don’t know a lot about angel stuff,” she said slowly, “but I do remember what I…saw. And I know that it isn’t the same as what I saw the night you landed. And then…I started thinking about how panicked you were about ‘interfering,’ and…well.”
She avoided Yasha’s gaze. “It’s my fault, isn’t it? It’s because I convinced you to stay with me—with us. Instead of just letting you go.”
The silence lingered on. Beau bunched up the edge of her shirt and waited, dreading, the answer—
“…I don’t know.”
Her head shot up.
“You…what?”
“I, ah.” Yasha’s shoulders drooped. “I really do not know. Nothing like this has ever happened before. On the one hand, in all my visits to Earth, this is the first time that I ever talked to mortals. But…at the same time, I—I don’t actually think I’ve done anything to…to justify a fall.”
Beau opened her mouth. She closed it again.
“So…huh. Then that’s—you really don’t know.”
“No,” Yasha sighed. “Although, you should know that I do not think you could blame yourself in any case. I would not have stayed if a part of me did not want to, Beauregard.”
Beau actively worked to shut down her facial features. Her reply, a pitched, “Oh.”
“One thing is definitely certain, though,” huffed Yasha, unaware of the battle raging in Beau’s mind. “The longer that I remain on Earth, the…the worse things could become. My wings are not…all that good, but…I still have them. That means I am still an angel. That…I am still an angel.”
Beau nodded, and managed to re-focus. “Then…then I bet it’s alright,” she said. “I mean, you aren’t out of time. And you know how stubborn we all are, there’s no way we’ll give up now. We’ll make sure you find your way home. You’re one of us now, Yash, we’d do anything for you.”
Yasha’s mouth twitched. “Thank you, Beauregard.” It was a smile. “For everything. Really. I…can never express to you how grateful I am. How lucky I was to land in front of you.”
Beau’s eyes flew wide, and Yasha backpedaled. “I just mean—no—well, no, not no—I didn’t—that was—that is—all of you. Everyone. You and your friends. Are good people. I…thank you.”
“Well, hey,” Beau’s arm shifted as if to almost reach out, and then she thought better of it. “My friends are your friends too,” she said, quite awkwardly, instead. “You’re one of us. And we’re friends. We’re…all friend, here.”
“Right, er, right,” managed Yasha; it was getting hot in their room. “Yes. Exactly. We are friends. Uh—"
In a fit of absolute panic, she stuck out her hand. Amazingly, Beau took it.
Their hands shook. Neither of them looked.
“Th-thank you,” said Yasha, when they finally broke away. “Besides, um…you know, I’m not leaving yet. I still don’t’ know where I’m going. There’s also the, uh, the—Mollymauk. I do not want to fly him across the world with me.”
“Right,” said Beau. “Yeah, that’s…we…we’re all kind of following your lead on that one.” Then she hesitated, and when Yasha blinked back in confusion, Beau suddenly inhaled so sharply it almost hurt.
“Look, uh, look, there’s something I gotta say from a while ago—it was a, well, a—Yasha, I owe you an apology.”
A beat.
Yasha stared at her. “Me?”
“It’s…really dumb,” Beau blurted out. “Not that—no, not that—you weren’t dumb, I was, I did—I lied to you. Back then.”
If anything, she looked even more perplexed.
“You…did?”
“Sort of,” her eyes fell to the mattress. “I, uh…when you told me about auras, that one time, I…freaked out and told you a lie. I, uh…I don’t know if you’ve noticed at all, but I kind of like being…mysterious. God, no, not mysterious, it’s just…look, I was feeling conflicted about some stuff. Stuff that I wasn’t…ready to share. So when you told me that you could see my aura, I panicked. I told you it was shitty of you to do that, which…that was really shitty of me.”
“Oh,” said Yasha. “Is that…then, does that mean humans are okay with me reading them?”
“I’m pretty sure humans aren’t aware of it enough to actually have an opinion. The point is,” she sighed, “I lied to you. You had way more reason than I did to be confused, and upset, and…and just unsure. But when you reached out to, like, understand me, I pushed you away. I…don’t ever want to do that.”
She risked a glance up. “I’m sorry.”
And then, to her shock, Yasha nodded.
“It’s okay.”
Beau blinked. “It…is?”
“Er…yes,” said Yasha. “I think it is. You were just being protective of yourself. That is alright. Especially if you…were not ready to share things. And you did not mean to hurt me, yes?”
“Did I hurt you?”
Yasha considered this. “To be honest, um, no. You didn’t, not really. And if you did, then I forgot about it when Caleb told me I was missing 6,000 years of my memory.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. Er…is that ‘yikes’?”
Maybe it was the relief, the sheer drop from such panic, or maybe it was the way Yasha’s eyebrows were bunching, but Beauregard could not keep herself from bursting out into laughter.
Yasha looked startled at first, but she recovered when Beau gave her a grin.
“You know what? I think it is time for bed.”
“What? Oh,” Yasha still looked puzzled, but she nodded. “Oh, er…sure. Yes. No problem.”
— — —
There was just one problem.
Jester groaned, pressing her face into her pillow. “I take it back. I take it all back. This is the worst thing in the world and we should call that circus right now.”
“Can’t,” muttered Nott. “Don’t have their numbers.”
“Maybe we can put up posters,” Beau suggested. “Let the evil bikers know where he is. They can have him.”
There was a rustle in the darkness. “Yasha,” said Nott, “are all demons like this?”
Another rustle followed. “Er…I have heard that the most fearsome demons plague their victims with visions of hellfire and ruin. But I think there are many ways to torment people.”
“Where the does not shutting up come in on that list?”
Yasha also had a pillow on her head. “The very top, I think.”
From the other side of the all-too-thin wall, a flood of music poured through. Fjord had made the crucial mistake of telling Molly to “make yourself at home,” and since Molly’s only home had been a crowded RV full of mostly-drunk carnies plunging down the highways of America at midnight, he’d said it was impossible for him to sleep without some “background noise.”
“Oh, sure,” Fjord had said. “Background noise should be fine.”
“He’s a guest,” sighed Jester. “We basically kidnapped him. I felt bad, and I didn’t think…I didn’t think he’d be like this.”
“Maybe someone will come to our rescue,” said Beau. “Maybe Caleb will finally snap and kill him.”
“Oh, if anyone would do it, it would be Caleb,” Nott agreed. “Fjord’s too weak. Or…maybe Cad, the quiet ones are always murderers.”
“It wouldn’t be murder,” Beau called sleepily. “It would be a civic duty.”
“Maybe we can plug our ears.” Yasha rolled over to look at the other girls. “Do any of you have some beeswax?”
The deep pause that followed would have been silence if not for the blaring—let’s have a party there’s a full moon in the sky, it’s the hour of the—
“I wanna die,” said Nott. “If he doesn’t, I will.”
“I can try to find some bees if I must,” Yasha pressed. “I feel guilty. I am the one who dragged him into your lives—"
She jumped when something brushed the side of her leg.
“We don’t need bees,” said Beau, who was slapping around the edge of her mattress, totally blind. “Here, I’ve got extra. Everyone, come get some. Earplugs. They’re not enough, but…helps.”
Yasha recovered quickly, reaching over to accept the little pieces of orange foam. There was some general shuffling and muted “thank yous” as Nott and Jester acquired pairs as well.
“Nice,” said Beau, rolling over on the floor. “Adds a pop to your monochrome.”
Yasha couldn’t tell whether that was addressed to her. But when it seemed clear that Beau had just passed out again, she carefully pressed the earplugs in. Then she sat there a moment longer, staring at her leg, surrounded by the muted blare of a hundred trumpets.
Off in the distance and dulled, Nott said, “I’m gonna go threaten to cut his head off.”
— — —
And then, eventually, there was quiet.
— — —
See:
Not…not a storm at all. Not even a lingering cloud.
Instead, there is just the blue and endless sky.
Somewhere, she is…lying down. The sun is warm. She is…somewhere. She is somewhere where a field of green-turning-gold-turning-russet wild grasses ripple slow.
There’s a gentle brush against her leg. She looks down. It’s a little white flower.
It’s…it’s being held in…someone’s hand.
Her head jerks up.
“Wait, who are y—"
— — —
Her eyes focused on a face.
“Huh?” said Beauregard. “Was that for me?”
Yasha sat up so quickly that Beau had to jump backwards. “Whoa, there—"
Yasha ignored this, whipped her head around, took in two unmade bunks, a mess of blankets, golden sunlight—
The curtains by the window rippled slow.
“I…but…”
“Yasha?” Beau frowned. “Hey, Yash, is everything okay?”
“But I…there was…” Her hands dug into the sides of her face as she squeezed her eyes shut. “There was…a field,” she bit out. “Grass. Under the sky, and a flower, and a p—"
She froze.
“Uh…Yasha?”
A…person. There had been a person. Someone—but who? It was someone…important…
And then the thought—no one can know.
“N-nothing,” Yasha blurted, though she didn’t quite know why. “It was…it was nothing. Er…but there might be something more I have for Caleb to work with.”
Beau’s concerned expression vanished. “Oh, what? Oh—hey, that’s awesome!” She closed the distance, even went to clap Yasha on the back. “That’s great! He’s gonna be totally thrilled! And that’s one step closer to you getting to…go. Oh.”
They both fell silent. Through the door, the clattering sounds of the rest setting a table.
Beau’s hand fell back to her side.
“Of course, we always knew you were gonna leave at some point. And…you know, you were ready to bolt, like, two days ago, so it stands to reason that you…should be happy to leave…”
Yasha looked up at Beauregard.
A person. Someone important…
“Beau, um…Beau, I think I—"
The door burst open. Nott shoved her head in, eyebrows raised.
“God, what’s taking you two so long? Cad made pancakes! C’mon, we’re waiting!”
— — —
A thick slab of blueberry-laden goodness landed in the center of Yasha’s plate. A sweet, buttery, slightly tart aroma wafted through the kitchen.
“So, I think I still have a bit more catching-up to do, don’t I?” said Molly, who was sitting in a chair with a slouch so bad it looked like his spine was broken. “For one, it seems like I’ve missed the book club meeting that made you all friends.”
“We met in college,” said Fjord, rubbing his eyes. “Not a book club.”
“Same difference,” Molly shrugged. “It’s just that I can’t help but feel a tad bit excluded from your pre-existing lovefest.”
“It would be easier to include you if you knew how to be quiet sometimes,” Nott grumbled.
He stuck his tongue out, and it was stained with blueberry.
“I think we are overdue for a proper meeting anyway,” said Caleb, spearing his pancake. “A lot has changed in the last twenty-four hours. We should review our goals and priorities.”
“Get home,” said Yasha. “Do that by finding ȣɿɕƺᶋɷ.”
“What the hell,” said Molly.
“Later,” Caleb sighed. “Right, okay, that’s item one on our list, our continuing mission to find Iothia. And once we do…?”
Yasha shuffled. It was quick, almost missed, but she glanced at Beau.
“Er…then I…leave,” she said. “I fly there, and I can return home.”
“Aw, really?” Jester pouted. “You’re really just going to leave right away?”
If anything, Yasha’s next expression was even more complicated. She fidgeted again. “I, er, sort of…sort of have to. As…quickly as possible, I think.”
“Man, that sucks.”
Yasha managed a tiny smile. “I know.”
“But you can’t go until you’ve taught me repression,” Molly said, quickly waving his fork for attention. “I need to get back to my circus, my dear. And I can’t do that safely until I learn to hide.”
“Which means you’ll be sticking around a little longer, Yasha.” Caduceus down the plate of pancakes and took a seat. “Isn’t that nice?”
“And you’ll be hanging out with me,” Molly grinned. “I expect we’ll get to know each other very well.”
A loud thump shook the table and everyone’s heads suddenly turned to Beauregard.
She blinked. Then she looked down.
“Shit, uh…sorry. I think I missed my plate.”
“Jesus christ,” said Fjord. “That’s an inch into solid wood.”
Beau gripped the handle of the knife she’d sunk into the table. On the second try, she managed to yank it free.
“Sorry, uh…sorry again,” she said. “Jes, your mom can bill my dad.”
“Are both of you rich girls?” Molly asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” she shot him a deep scowl. “You just worry about…about learning to shut up your aura, or whatever. Then Yasha can get on with stuff that’s actually important, and you can finally leave us all alone.”
“My, my, someone’s touchy, isn’t she?” Molly folded his hands over his lap. “Anger issues are bad for your health.”
“You know what else is bad for my health, asshole? Not being able to fucking sleep ‘cause someone needs a rock concert every night—"
“Okay, okay, okay,” said Fjord, holding his hands up so fast he almost knocked over the milk. “Alright, I think that’s enough, you two. Molly found headphones eventually, right? And now he knows better.”
“What am I, a child—"
“And we’ve got to be a little more understanding of a man who’s just had their whole life turned around. It’s not every day we find out we’re not even human.”
“Not a man either,” Molly added.
“Ah, sorry—"
“It’s alright, dear.” He sighed. Then, with a swoop of what could only be described as exaggerated magnanimity, he turned to Beauregard.
“Truce? Not surrender, just armistice.”
She rolled her eyes, but did concede. “Yeah, whatever.”
“Back to the matter at hand, then,” said Caleb, as that piece of breakfast theater concluded. “Yasha. Even though your sense memory from last night was…for lack of a better term, undescriptive, it gave me the idea that we could perhaps try to use images of natural places to trigger more. Jester’s mother has a number of picture atlases in the study, after all. Perhaps we could start there today.”
Yasha lowered her fork. “Actually…while I was asleep, I remembered something more.”
This was followed by a chorus of clattering and hurried exclamations, the loudest being Nott’s, “What, really?!”
“Er…yes, but it was very small,” Yasha said. “I…remembered lying down. In a field of golden grass. And, um…there was a flower. It was, um, white.”
“Is that all?” Caleb said after a while.
She hesitated.
Then, “Yes.”
“Well, that’s not too bad,” said Caduceus. “It might even be a great, actually. Most flowers only grow in specific climates anyway, and if we’re lucky, it might only be native to a certain area.”
“Ooooh, oh! What did it look like?” Jester asked. Then her eyes lit up. “Oh—Yasha, you should draw it!”
She jumped out of her chair and was running back from the living room with her sketchbook before they even processed this.
“And you’re getting so much better at art too,” she squealed, “this’ll be great practice—"
“Jester, are you sure—"
She pushed Yasha’s plate aside and handed her a pencil triumphantly. “Close your eyes! Picture it! Then draw!”
Even Caleb seemed reluctant to argue with Jester. He shrugged and said, “But also please describe it to us, please.”
Yasha put her fork down. She took the pencil.
“I’m really not good,” she said, weakly, but she did her best to envision the flower. “Okay, um, it was small…very small, and it had seven little points like this…”
A moment later, everyone leaned in to see the drawing.
“Aw, it’s so pretty!” Jester beamed. “Good job!”
“Ah—thank you.”
“Any idea what it is?” Fjord glanced at Caduceus. “Have you seen this before?”
Cad scratched his chin. “I can’t say I have, but…it shouldn’t be that hard to find. You said it’s white?”
“And small,” Yasha added. “As big as someone’s—someone’s fingernail.”
“My momma has tons of books on flowers,” Jester supplied. “Maybe those can help?”
“I’m sure they will. And Caduceus is right,” Caleb added, “this is an excellent jumping-off point. If we have this drawing too, Yasha, I can take over from here. That will give you time to help train our newest...divine associate.”
“You don’t have to lay on the flattery that thick,” Molly smiled. “Though I appreciate the compliment.”
“I meant that literally.”
“Why, thank you—"
“I can help you too.” Beau was determined to silence Mollymauk quickly. “Again, it’s not like I’m doing much anyway. At least this time there’ll be pictures, right?”
“Are you sure?” Yasha leaned backwards. “If you don’t want to—"
“No, no, really. I’ve told you, Yash, and I’ll say it again, I really don’t mind any of this. I want to do this. And you can’t stop me.”
Yasha met her gaze, then nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Exactly,” said Beau, and raised her chin in a display of satisfaction. Then she hesitated, turned towards the rest. “But if the rest of you don’t feel like helping, I mean…I’m a deadbeat, but Fjord, you’re supposed to be reading for a summer class. And Nott, you’ve got stuff for your job, right? And Jes—"
“How about we clear up the living room and do what we need to do together?” Fjord asked. “Solidarity. It’ll be like…like study hall!”
“I’m game!” said Nott. “As much as it sucks, I should probably get on that.”
“Me too,” Jester clapped her hands. “It’s not as fun as fishing or introducing Yasha to fries, but studying won’t be so bad if we’re all together!”
Molly stared at her incredulously. “Are you—really?” He turned to the rest, aghast. “You’re all really going to sit down and do…do work? Willingly? Nevermind, this is much worse than a book club.”
He leaned over and nudged Yasha in the shoulder. “My goodness, aren’t we lucky to be divine? I’d rather do anything than, ugh, read.”
—
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GOLDEN music video analysis
First of all, DISCLAIMER: These are merely the things that I noticed and what I think they could mean. I do not claim that these are H’s brain childs.
Second of all I might have written some stuff double, but I really wanted to publish this before TPWK drops. So YAY to that.
Third of all. Sorry this is really long ^^* Now lets start.
The two main parts that I noticed about the MV:
there is a shit ton of cuts
there are 7 different characters
Let’s have a look at the later first
THE CHARACTERS
In order of appearance
1. The Runner
1.1. clothes
white oversized shirt
half unbuttoned
shorts in soft sand and red colours, one of a kind feedsack shorts (hybrid seeds)
white (but dirty) canvas shoes with soft pink and white laces
gold cross necklace
1.2. symbolism
lots of skin visible through shorts, half-open shirt and shirt being half see-through = openness
canvas shoes are well worn and dirty = steadiness/consistency and loyalty/devotion
shorts: genuine hybrid seeds (Hybrid seeds are bred for higher yield and better resistance against pests and disease. Their seeds will not produce the same plant as the parent)
colours:
white - associated with light, goodness, innocence, purity, virginity, perfection
beige - neutral, calm, relaxing
pale pink - soothing
1.3. behaviour
main protagonist
runs after the camera
looks at the camera nearly all the time
Smiles/sings along/runs hard
chases camera, sometimes under strain but most often running with it
He is the thread that leads through the MV (appears a lot in the beginning, gets strewn in until the end, is the first and the last)
only one not wearing pearls
1.4. special moments
“I know you were way too (camera changes from full-frontal to frog perspective to show the bright sky) bright for me”
“loving you’s the antidote, golden” (greets away from camera)
2:35 not running (during the 28 goldens) ruffling hair and looking around as if uncertain how to proceed, “Because I’m so golden” turns and runs away from the camera, “You’re so golden” camera switches back to frontal
Gonna put the rest under the break because this thing got massive and long
2. Suited Up
2.1. clothes
light blue/turquoise blazer
shirt striped white and soft blue
tartan flares
white lace gloves (not always)
white (but dirty) canvas shoes with soft pink and white laces
gold cross necklace, light blue&white bead necklace (Millefiori+Freshwater pearls)
2.2. symbolism
patterned trousers - giving balance to the monochrome jacket, the pattern is very small, you have to look close to see it properly
striped shirt - two contrasting colours, stripes were historically used for outcasts and people that needed to be contained (servants, jesters, prostitutes, ...) in this case the contrast is low (white and light blue) and not always right away visible
non-formal suit, no tie, top buttons are open to reveal jewelry, sometimes with lace gloves - hides most of himself but not in an uptied way. There is a playfulness about it with the top buttons undone and the lace gloves that do cover his hands but also not. He plays peek-a-boo with how much he reveals
canvas shoes are well worn and dirty = steadiness/consistency and loyalty/devotion
Colours:
light blue - serenity, stability, inspiration, wisdom, calming, reliability but also sadness
white - associated with light, goodness, innocence, purity, virginity, perfection
brown - reliability, elegance, security, healing, home, grounding, foundations, stability, warmth, honesty
2.3. behaviour
goofy and expressive
lots of dad dancing and acting out musical parts
very flirty
2.4. special moments
gloves: in the beginning and the gesturing along with the chimes
no gloves: dorky dancing and car hood flirting
“Of who I am and all I’ve ever known” dorky dancing
hides his hands when he flirts with the camera while singing “I don’t want to be alone”
grinning dancing, camera twirls around him, he twirls and lands on a car hood, flirting with both people inside (they are not distinguishable), his foot is raised up coquettishly, pan around to his face, he smiles broadly
3. Car Driver
3.1. clothes
shirt striped white and light blue
lace gloves
light blue&white bead necklace (Millefiori+Freshwater pearls)
3.2. symbolism
the jacket is gone, leaving the striped shirt in full view
shirt not buttoned up
lace gloves - protection vs being open, purity vs debauchery
separated from camera through windshield - distancing himself from the onlooker
Colours:
light blue - serenity, stability, inspiration, wisdom, calming, reliability but also sadness
white - associated with light, goodness, innocence, purity, virginity, perfection
3.3. behaviour
does not smile
sings and seems mostly neutral and concentrated on driving
3.4. special moments
“take me back to the light” in tunnel, hard cut to outside tunnel, hard cut to inside tunnel emerging from tunnel
last line: “I don’t want to be alone”
4. Waterboy
4.1. clothes
swim shorts striped blue/off-white
gold cross necklace, blue beads necklace (Millefiori necklace+Freshwater pearls)
4.2. symbolism
lots of skin, open hands stretched out towards camera - very open
barefoot - innocence/childhood, freedom from real-life requirements
switch from light blue to a stronger blue (necklace and shorts) - emphasize on that colour
Colours:
blue - serenity, stability, inspiration, wisdom, calming, reliability but also sadness
white - associated with light, goodness, innocence, purity, virginity, perfection
4.3. behaviour
only one depicted in 3 different ways (1. outside of water filmed from inside water, 2. inside water filmed from inside the water, 3. inside water filmed from outside the water)
outside of water: squatting, facing the camera, strong gestures and mimic, slightly crazy
inside the water: diving, sinking, floating, often with eyes shut
Water is used as something to either hide in (camera) or be surrounded with (H)
4.4. special moments
first appearance: “I don’t want to be alone” reaches for and sings to the camera (which is under water and peaking out) “I don’t want to be alone” dives into the water
“I can feel it take a hold” under water, only eyes above waterline and out of view from the camera
“out of my head” starts shaking his head crazily “and I know that you’re scared because hearts get broken” camera sinks deeper under water, when it’s under, H hits the water
“I know that you’re scared because I’m so OPEN” hits the water
5. Fishermans Hat
5.1. clothes
yellow fisherman’s hat
Cross necklace, white bead necklace (Millefiori+Freshwater pearls)
long flared trousers beige with blue flower print
brown belt
white (but dirty) canvas shoes with soft pink and white laces
5.2. symbolism
first appearance of yellow, only hints of blue in the fine flower print
upper body naked, lower body completely covered - ambivalence between showing and not showing but very clearly divided. Covered parts are not guessable bc even the form is hidden
Colours:
yellow - most luminous colour, stands for happiness, optimism, enlightenment, creativity, sunshine but also betrayal and cowardice
blue - serenity, stability, inspiration, wisdom, calming, reliability but also sadness
5.3. behaviour
either pressing his lips together or mouthing along to the instrumentals
swaying to the music
stands on various places on the shore rocks in different distances
lots of cuts
5.4. special moments
only appears during the 28 goldens and the following “Because I’m so open”
only once turned away from the camera 2:38 (extremely short cut, only visible if slowed down to the max)
6. Crystal ball
6.1. clothes
nail polish gold/silver
white beret with black bow/trim
Cross necklace, white bead necklace (Millefiori+Freshwater pearls)
6.2. symbolism
only clothing is the hat, crystal ball is center - technically very open but what you see is upside down and distorted
he holds the crystal ball himself - the distortion and turning upside down of what we see is in his hands
Colours:
white - associated with light, goodness, innocence, purity, virginity, perfection
6.3. behaviour
being upside down
sings along
only fast cuts to him
6.4. special moments
first appearance after “Because hearts get broken”
last appearance “I know that you’re scared because I’m so open” (analysis of that part in the extras)
7. Reflection
7.1. clothes
swim shorts
7.2. symbolism
the person itself is only seen in contour and upside down - no real information and lots of distortion and distraction (upside down, reflection on the water, tinted red and yellow, clouds and stones mix into the picture)
Colours:
yellow - most luminous colour, stands for happiness, optimism, enlightenment, creativity, sunshine but also betrayal and cowardice
blue - serenity, stability, inspiration, wisdom, calming, reliability but also sadness
red - love, lust, sexuality, sensitivity, romance, joy, strength, leadership, courage, anger, danger, malice, wrath, determination
7.3. behaviour
this could be the 4th version of the Water Boy but as there are so many differences I put him extra
we only ever see the dark reflection of him
always upside down
dances in swaying motions
7.4. special moments
the whole composition looks a bit like an eye
appears 3 times during the 28 goldens
Constants in all roles are:
silver and golden nail polish
Both stand for wealth
silver additionally stands for kindness, psychic abilities and is believed to be the mirror to the soul, helping us to see ourselves as others see us
gold associated with illumination, love, compassion, courage, magic and wisdom but also sparkle and glamour
golden cross necklace
pearls (and Millefiori beads in light blue or blue)
only the Runner doesn’t wear them (it’s not clear for the Reflection but based on the shorts I’d say the styling is the same as for the Waterboy)we all know how H is wearing pearls now basically everywhere so him wearing them in the MV is no surprise
Pearls are said to attract wealth and luck, offer protection, balance karma, strengthen relationships, symbolize purity, generosity, integrity, loyalty, used for purifying wate
The millefioriare glas beads that depict flowers. Flowers symbolize fertility, health, flourishing
these necklaces are pretty and colour coordinated to the outfits but they also seem to be a blessing
when there are shoes it’s white (but dirty) canvas shoes with soft pink and white laces
which can stand for steadiness/consistency and loyalty/devotion
Main themes
a journey that starts in a tunnel and ends on a open road, both (beginning and ending) are unprovoked
conflict between openness and secrecy, how much is shown and how much of that is the reality?
Now to the cuts
The editing of the video is brilliant and hides so many little tidbits that I fear that I have seen only half of them (I meantioned the most noticable ones in the Roles), so here goes nothing
There are 156 cuts
The highest concentration of cuts is during the 28 goldens until “Because I’m so open.”
The biggest cluster of cuts is at 2:43 (7 cuts) and 2:44 (6 cuts) “Because I’m so open”
All cuts visualized
Runner - skin tone
Suited Up - royal blue
Car Driver: Tunnel - dark red, Outside - sky blue
Waterboy: Outside - pale green, Under Water - dark green, In Water - bluish green
Crystal Ball - brown
Fishermans Hat - yellow
Reflection - purple
The last dark red cut should be morphing into a sky blue (just couldn’t figure out how to do that)
The lead up to the climax starts shortly after the first appearence of the crystal ball (5th row from the bottom)
the 28 Goldens start with the Suited Up blue in the same row
All appearences of the Fichermans Hat are only during the 28 Goldens and in the climax
Now let’s talk about the climax
the 28 Goldens end with the last appearence of the Reflection (purple)
The following 5 seconds are the climax
Cristal ball “I know” Suited up (full body, looking to the right, lips pressed together, steps forward)
“That you’re scared” Runner (stands,looks at camera, hands on hips)
“Be” Suited Up (portrait, looks at camera, slightly upwards)
“cause” Suited Up (portrait, looks at camera, slightly downward)
“I” Crystal ball
“‘m”
Suited Up (portrait, looks at camera slightly downwards)
Waterboy (in water, head above, hands strechted out to a V)
Fishermans Hat (half body, raising arms, head tilted to the right)
“so” Crystal ball (lowering the Crystal ball)
“o”
Waterboy (in water, head above, hands slowly sinking, moving head backwards as if cheering)
Crystal ball (without Crystal ball, comes into focus)
Waterboy (in water, head above, moving head backwards as if cheering, wave rolls into the focus, Waterboy not visible)
Crystal ball (without Crystal ball)
Crystal ball (super short flicker, with Crystal ball again)
“pen” Waterboy (outside water, hits the water)
Runner (turnes away from camera and runs away)
So what is the story? At first it might look as if all the different characters are random and the MV only being about a nice summer day, singing about a love and not having an underlying story but when we look deeper there is a lot to unpack.
When we look at the distribution of how much time each character got and when which character was the focus it becomes clear that the Runner is the main protagonist. He is the one that starts us off, carries us through and brings it to the end. He quite literally runs us through the MV. He is the red thread tying it all together. He is also the only one not wearing pearls, which sets him apart from all the characters but also from H himself.
Looking at the other characters he is one of only two that actually smile. But while the Suited up character is, well... suited up, literally hiding most parts of himself from the viewer, even going as far as wearing gloves, the Runner is wearing loose clothes, short or see through and not buttoned up. He is showing quite a lot of himself and he is not self conscious about it or coquettish or anything really because he is focusing on running. Pulling us through the music video by running towards us(?), the camera, really. He is also not chasing. There are parts where he pushes himself to run faster but it’s never a chase. Always running with the camera.
The only time he breaks the pattern is during the instrumental part, the 28 Goldens, where he stops running, looking around as if questioning where to go. He picks back up running directly after the climax “I know that you’re scared because I’m so open” but this time he runs away from the camera as if choosing a different path. Because maybe he doesn’t want the other to be scared and choses to go back or maybe he wasn’t actually open and wants to change that by retracing his steps. But with the next cut to him he is again running towards the camera. It’s not clear if anything changed and then he just stops running. The camera getting further away from him. He looks on, there are no sad feelings.
Of all the other characters only one shows no signs of hiding anything.
Suited up is dorky, expressive and flirty while also playing with the contrasts of a full suit but a not fully buttoned shirt, with lace gloves that hide him but also give peeks of him, with hiding his hands behind his back while flashing his dimpled smile. He looks genuine, he probably is ... to some extent. There are parts of himself that he doesn’t show but he is charming about it. Playing with it.
The Driver hides behind his windshield, also wearing the lace gloves but he is not charming or even smiling. He drives. Somewhere. He definitely drives from the dark tunnel into the light while singing “take me back to the light” and he ends his appearances with the words “I don’t want to be alone”. He shows us his vulnerable side by telling us his hopes but there is no deep connection, he keeps a distance.
The Fishermans hat seems open and for a certain part he is, a bare chest with all his history etched into his skin is quite clearly open. But his lower body is so effectively covered, we can’t even see the exact shape of his legs due to the trousers cut, or if he is even wearing any shoes. that it feels like a statement of “yes you can see part of me but the other part I keep absolutely hidden.” He keeps his lips well pressed together. Jumping closer and further back again with each cut. Making it hard to place him or foresee what to expect next.
The Crystal ball is a study in hiding. Yes the part of the body we see is naked and seems very open, but it’s also upside down and distorted by the ball that he holds himself. And even the part of the climax where he lowers the ball to reveal himself ends in a short flicker of the ball being back, distortion in place. That is the last appearance of this character.
The Reflection is by far the most mysterious. We don’t see anything of him except for his outline. He is a reflection in a pond, distorted and tinted by the other reflections and the stones under water as well as the whole scene being tinted by red and orange. There is no way to get any real information from that one.
And then there is the Waterboy. The one in just swim shorts. The one pulling faces at something, someone, in the water. The one talking directly to the camera “and I know that you’re scared because hearts get broken” while the camera sinks lower. The one jumping into the water “I don’t want to be alone” and “I can feel it take a hold” while being under water. There is no clarification who he is talking too/about but it is clear that he wants to be close and closer. Wants to surround himself with it. This openness is especially stark as every other side character is a version of hiding in some way or the other.
The clash of all those characters hiding, distorting, playing peek-a-boo with how much they reveal and how much of their personality is reality and that one honest open character that wants someone so much that he is diving for them. Disregarding all the other characters because he is the one that scares the other by being open.
And still the last side character making an appearance is the one suited up, he smiles and is charming, flirting with people that can’t be seen, we can see them waving and really they could be anyone that wants his attention. He twirls, drapes himself over the hood of their car, letting his dimples pop, delicately placing his chin in his hand and raising his foot. It’s the longest continuous scene in the music video and is followed only by the Runner stopping to run, ending his part of escorting us through the story.
#Harry Styles#analysis#musicvideo#Harry Styles Golden#holy shit that got long#also known as H playing peek-a-boo with us
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The trek back was harsh. Molly stayed by Caleb, despite the spell keeping Caleb warm. Once they hit warm weather Mollymauk had placed his metal piercings, jingling every time he walked.
The boat ride home was safe, despite Uk'otoa being a threat. Mollymauk sat by the front of the boat, glaring. The snow seemed to melt and vaporize around him. The tower was set up at night, comforts made readily available. There was practically a party every night, with joy and dancing.
Molly pulled Caleb towards an empty room. "You never did take me waltzing." Molly smiled. He wore a lovely lace suit, purple and blues. It had a gold lining, sparkling in the light. Caleb cupped Molly's face.
"You are a blessing, Mollymauk," Caleb whispered. Molly chirped.
"You're too kind if a bit slow to dance." Molly laughed. Caleb blushed.
"That's a sin we have to rectify." Caleb laughed.
-----------------------------------------
There was a group of people waiting for them at the border. Three figures, an old man, a woman, and a man Caleb's age sat by waiting for him.
"You take forever to travel. I taught you better than to keep others waiting." The old man sneered. Caleb glared and set his jaw.
"We do not do things on your schedule." Caleb snapped, his hands getting very warm very quickly.
"Yes, I am aware. We just need to clear something up." Trent spoke, looking at Mollymauk.
"Did you kill DeRogna for political reasons?" Astrid spoke up.
"She tried to kill me, I simply got even." Molly stood in front of Caleb. "The second time…"
"We are aware of the monster she was. We just need to see that this was not an attack on the Cerberus Assembly as a whole." Eodwulf spoke up. He regarded Molly with a raised eyebrow. "Someone like you could be a valuable ally."
"Oh, I am. Just not directly for you." Molly rested his hand on his sword.
"I see. Caleb is in safe hands." Eodwulf grinned. Molly had to swallow the instinct to snarl.
"It's almost dark, maybe a family dinner is an order, Bren, if you would." Trent smiled. It had the same aura as a rag doll, half-rotted due to the weather and bugs, maybe with small insects still crawling over it.
"Right." Caleb looked around. It was broad daylight. "I can set up a tower."
-------------------------------------------
The tower was set up in record time. The rooms were set up differently. They were paired off, Veth with Jester, Beau with Yasha and, and Fjord with Caduceus. The Guest room was set up for Wulf and Astrid.
"The ninth floor is yours. You can make your way to it." Caleb spoke clearly and floated up to his room, as usual, shared with Molly.
----------------------------------------------
"Are you ok?" Molly's voice was quiet.
"I want them out of my house, my home," Caleb growled. Molly just sighed.
"If you want to kill them…" Molly suggested, whispering in his ear. Caleb laughed. It was pained, raspy with breaths. "Not them… just Trent. They are just like me."
"I would say that 'no one is like you' but I recognize what you mean. I would also point out that the moment they attack us, they are in the same boat as the old man." Molly's tail moved in the air. Caleb, while in thought, grabbed the tail, absentmindedly tracing runes onto it. Molly just hummed.
"You introduced yourself as a liar to us, but you seemed to keep yourself to your word." Caleb mused.
"I never said who I was lying to," Molly responded.
"Lies to oneself may be the hardest to undo." Caleb hummed. A moment passed with the tip of Molly's tail still in Caleb's hand. "I'm just so tired…" he whispered, dropping the tail.
"Take a nap," Molly suggested. Caleb just nodded.
"Could you stay? I don't feel comfortable sleeping alone with him here." Caleb grabbed Molly's shirt.
Molly smiled. "The fact that you've decided to trust me with that shows how far we've come since we've met."
Caleb just nodded, removing the tie keeping his hair back and laid on the bed, Frumpkin settling on his chest.
---------------------------------------------
Caleb felt a hand on his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open, looking up to see Molly, his hair also down, framing his face. Molly's voice was too mumbled for his half-asleep brain to comprehend. He only heard the rasping tone. Caleb blinked and was silent as his brain turned back on.
"...can you understand me?" Molly asked.
"As of now, yes. Before, no." Caleb just smiled.
Molly just chuckled, then he turned serious. "It's dinner time. We need to wake up."
"I got it. Just let me get dressed." Caleb sat up. "I'm sorry for sleeping that long."
"You were tired. It happens." Molly nodded and tied his hair back. "Let's get this over with."
---------------------------------------
The dinner was cold. The food was perfectly heated, but icy looks were being sent across the table. Molly sat next to Caleb, wearing some fancy outfit, one that clung to him, accenting every tattoo and his horn jewelry was shining. His eyes were made up. There were so many things about him and his outfit that Caleb had no idea what he should focus on first. All he knew was that he was looking at one of the most valuable pieces of treasure.
"You seem to surround yourself with colorful people." Trent hummed. "And none of them are capable of protecting anyone."
"That is a bit unfair." Jester pouted.
"And how many times has Lady DeRogna fallen because of you and your friends," Trent spoke. None of them were eating. It was silent before Jester gasped. Fjord turned his head to see red coming out of Jester's eyes. Beau jumped up and went to help her but there was a spell cast. She froze, encased in ice. The group groaned and grabbed at each other, shaking. Molly grabbed Caleb, who just saw the blood on the table in front of him. Oh. There wasn't even pain; he just felt numb. Molly was shouting something but he couldn't hear it. Then Molly looked confused for a second and looked down. A metal blade poked out of the scar on his chest. Oh. Oh. Caleb reached out to Molly, squeezing his shirt.
The tower dissolved around them, Caleb felt the ground rush up to him as he blacked out.
-------------------------------------------
Caleb jerked awake to fingers in his hair and soothing purrs on his chest and next to him.
"Bad dream?" Molly tried to comfort him. Caleb just took a deep breath and relaxed.
"I'm here. You're safe." Molly promised.
"Did you ever think I was evil?" Caleb whispered.
"No. I saw your pain. I thought you were good. Better than me." He whispered. "I think you have the potential to be better than most of us."
"Most-?"
"Caduceus and Yasha."
"That makes sense." Caleb cracked a smile.
"And they trust you completely. So you're not evil. The old man you made sleep in the dungeon? He's evil." Molly played with his hair.
"When did you-"
"I overshot the first time I broke into the tower."
"You were allowed through the door."
"Would have taken too long." Molly shrugged. "My firefly needed me."
"That's cheesy."
Molly just purred in response, lulling Caleb back to sleep.
#critical role#mollymauk tealeaf#caleb widogast#widomauk#lucien critical role#117 fic finally finished#you know who to blame for this.#and i wrote this with love#just assume the infernal word for firefly is widogast.
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Shock and Awe
May I request a Kylo fic in which he meets the reader, who is nobility on her home planet, and is smitten after he sees her skills on the battlefield? It can be however fluffy/angsty/etc as you want! Thank you so much! I love your fics!
Hello! I hope it’s okay to request, it not please ignore haha! I was wondering if you could write about the reader being like a new inquisitor or something like that and she’s super badass and Kylo is falling hard but he doesn’t know how to talk to her bc ~inexperience~. Thank you so much I love your writing!! I was hooked on Empress and check everyday to see if you updated hehe. Thank you for blessing us with your writing!!!!❤️
May I request Kylo Ren (pre TFA, before he was Supreme Leader) courting the reader who is royalty from a First-Order-occupied planet? You can make it as floofy or as smutty as you want! Thank you!!!
This fic is based of the above asks!
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Enamored with a fearsome, clever princess, Kylo Ren makes an auspicious alliance.
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1.4k words
Mentions: violence, gore, swearing
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Kylo is in awe of you from the moment he lays eyes on you.
The first time the two of you meet, the both of you are caked in blood and gore, fresh from fighting the Resistance. He’s watched you take down men twice your size, watched you tear through flesh and bone as if it were nothing to you. You kill without mercy, without regard for your enemies or who they are, and watching you slaughter person after person gives Kylo the most delicious chills he’s ever felt.
It is only after the fight, when all of your shared adversaries lay slain, that Kylo finds out who you are.
“I’ve never known a princess capable of slaughtering so many people at once,” Kylo tells you, and he cannot help but be transfixed by how beautiful you are, even caked in dirt and the very lifeforce of your victims.
You laugh at Kylo’s statement, saying that he and his men are welcome to convoy back to your palace with you, and the look in your eyes tells him that perhaps he has missed something. A joke, maybe? He’s always been awful with those, so he doesn’t take it too hard.
Back at the palace, Kylo only falls more and more in love with you with every passing minute. He comes to find out that you are a staunch diplomat, a real cutthroat negotiator. You tell several men from prominent planet not yet under the Order’s control to fuck off when they say something that offends you, and two more parties of hopeful ambassadors are soon bent to your will with little more than a smirk and a minute amount of compromise on your part. As he watches, Kylo grows almost jealous of your prowess. Fear has always been his go-to tool for forging connections, but you are a master craftsman when it comes to forming relationships, even with people you seemingly hate! Everyone wants to be on your good side, and it is obvious that your having your friendship is very advantageous for all parties involved.
And though Kylo does not want to be uncouth or simple-minded, he cannot help himself from acknowledging that you are enchanting. He is transfixed by you, by your beauty, and he wants nothing more than for you to take notice of him in a similar way. If Kylo were every given the privilege of being the object of your most intimate affections, he doesn’t know what he would do with himself! And stars, does it make him jealous, watching how men and women alike absolutely fling themselves at you. They shower you in jewelry and dresses and perfume, in promises of wealth and great power, and yet it seems as if you are not flattered by any of it. You always thank these hopeful suitors of yours, accepting their gifts graciously, but you never heed to their advances, never let them in close to you. In a disheartening revelation, Kylo supposes that this must mean you are otherwise attached, perhaps in secret, for you are unmarried and do not openly show off a partner. Of course, he is envious of this mysterious lover of yours beyond belief, but fair is fair— if someone managed to capture your affections before Kylo or someone else could, then they must be an exemplary person indeed.
So, Kylo continues on with the tasks he’s been given, following Supreme Leader Snoke’s directions to the letter. And, as he strikes down enemies and puts the fear of the Order into more than one diplomat, he spends any free moment he has marveling at you from afar. He thinks you can sense his interest in you, but it’s only a guess. Kylo likes to think that some of the smiles you send his way are a little more than friendly, but really, what does he know about things like this? It’s been so long since he spent time with a woman in such a fashion, and even longer since he attempted to date anyone. Kylo knows that he’s gifted in many ways, but he won’t profess to be proficient in the realm of romantic relationships.
After a few days, Kylo’s ready to give up on the whole concept of capturing your affections… until you corner him in the palace gardens.
He’s minding his business amongst the blooms and grasses, reading over some material about a distant planet, when you appear in front of him. Of course, you’re draped in a beautiful, rich gown, and the mere of sight you takes Kylo’s breath away. He begins to ask you how you are, but you seem bent on not wasting time with pleasantries.
“Do you like me?” you ask, and there is a curious look in your eyes that makes Kylo want to choose his words with the utmost care.
“I… Yes, of course. You have been a most wonderful partner in these negotiations. You are a very competent ruler, and the Order is very pleased with your performance.” You sit down across from Kylo in the other little chair that matches the one his, now seemingly keenly interested.
“I didn’t ask what the Order thought of me. I know that I’ve served them well,” you state, and there’s that confidence that Kylo loves so much. “I asked if you like me. Though perhaps that’s a childish way of putting it. Really, I’m asking you if you have feelings for me.” You quirk one perfect eyebrow in Kylo’s direction, and he feels as if he may pass out.
“Well, I— What do you mean?” Kylo stammers, though he knows perfectly well what you’re asking.
Had he really been so obvious?
“Do you think I’m pretty, Kylo?” you ask, apropos of nothing, and Kylo does his best to control his urge to get up and flee, to avoid this whole interaction entirely. You must think Kylo’s taking too long to answer, because you barrel on, saying, “It’s all right if you do. If I’m being honest, I find you rather handsome.”
You give Kylo’s body a lazy onceover, and the look in your eyes is enough to make his face burn.
Embolden by your compliment, Kylo decides that perhaps it is safe to tell the truth. “I think you are quite beautiful,” Kylo admits, earning himself one of your coy little smirks, “but I am just one of your many admirers. It seems that everyone we’ve met with this week wants to capture your affections.”
Though Kylo tries to swallow it down, just a tinge of jealousy seeps into his voice during the last bit of his speech. That seems to please you, though, for your smirk broadens into something more of a satisfied smile.
“Yes, many people want to be close to me,” you affirm, but it doesn’t seem to be with any pride or arrogance. Cutting your eyes towards Kylo suddenly, you settle back in your chair. “Is that what you want, too, Kylo? My affections?”
“You wouldn’t want to be with someone like me, Princess,” Kylo says to you, conscious of himself. “You would like someone more entertaining, I think, someone who it better at making friends.”
A scoff, and then you’re standing up as if you aim to leave. “I have plenty of court jesters already, Kylo Ren. I have no intentions of taking on another.” You pause and cock your head, allow your eyes to skim over Kylo’s face. “I want someone who doesn’t need my help, someone who knows what they want. I have come to realize that many of the people who throw themselves at me so violently are just leeches looking for a powerful, influential person to draw energy from.”
“I understand,” Kylo says companionably, because he does. He may not have many close friends or a lover, but that’s not to say that people haven’t tried to latch onto him before.
“If I were to give you my heart, would you make sure that none of those parasites ever got anything I wasn’t willing to give?”
Kylo is in love with you. He is in love with that calculating, mischievous glint in your eye. You are a true terror, he thinks, a force to be reckoned with.
He locks eyes with you, deadly serious. “If it would please you to be rid of them, all you would have to do is say so.”
For the first time, you grace him with a true, wide, bright smile.
“Finally,” you say, and you sound so, so pleased, “someone who understands what I want.”
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a very daedric halloween
ok so here’s what all the princes would wear to a halloween party:
malacath dresses as boethiah and makes the best show he can of being all “scary” and “edgy” and stuff. everybody agrees he’s actually less scary and edgy when acting like boethiah. one time he went as trinimac tho, which genuinely creeped everybody out
mephala usually hosts the parties and is not above just being a spider. sometimes she wears costumes of mortals, or costumes referring to recent events. whenever somebody asks her “why are you dressed as __?” she’ll say “oh i did that. that was my doing, my secret plan come to fruition.” sometimes it’s damn near impossible to make the connection though, and she refuses to explain it. one time she was an apple, and said the exact same thing as usual, and everybody was like “??????” (also, one time she dressed as something that nobody really understood, except for boethiah, and it REALLY pissed her off, so she stormed out of the party)
it’s not without reason that malacath plays boethiah the way he does. she tends to go overboard with the edginess in her costumes. sometimes she even just goes as herself in full battle gear covered in blood. real fuckin edgelord over here
azura usually goes as mortals - literally going as possessed mortals. everyone agrees it’s pretty weird and almost everybody has at some point accidentally killed her costume. sometimes it’s not really accidentally tho
boethiah, mephala, and azura are known for doing couple (thruple?) costumes. sometimes it’s just sharing themes, and then there’s the time they literally went as a dragon. all three of them, stuffed in a three-person dragon suit. azura insisted on being the head, mephala got the tail, and boethiah was miffed that she just got the lousy middle :/
clavicus vile and barbas almost ALWAYS go as each other, and INSIST on everybody referring to them as such. that’s not clavicus in a kid’s dog suit, that’s barbas; that’s not barbas with horns pasted on and wearing pants, that’s clavicus. if you get it wrong too many times, barbas will bite you - and i mean barbas and “barbas”
sanguine always wears the “sexy” version of costumes. always.
mehrunes dagon struggles with costumes bc of his extra pair of arms, but mephala usually tries to help alter them to accommodate. one time he went as uriel septim vii (with four arms), and it was the best part of the whole party
molag bal does not get invited. sometimes, for god knows what reason, azura tells him about the party anyways. he shows up, crashes the party, and everybody leaves, cursing azura
hircine goes in full fursuit. every year, “clavicus” asks him, “oh, so you just dressed as yourself again?” hircine goes to brood in the corner as everybody laughs at him
namira rarely puts much effort into her appearance, and costume parties are no exception. it’s good enough she comes at all - to everybody without a nose, that is
vaermina wears a hideous amorphous dress that shifts and transforms depending on who’s looking at it, showing them their worst fears, so everybody tries to avoid looking at her at all. those who accidentally catch a glimpse are absolutely horrified. except for sheogorath. he just laughs. he’s basically the only person willing to talk to vaermina at the parties.
peryite likes to go as skeevers, rats, and other rodents. as a result, he tends to constantly get punted across the room by everybody walking around
sheogorath has the most diversity and originality in costumes as all the other princes. he can go as a simple jester, a talking swarm of butterflies, or a coffin emitting screams and nails scratching on wood. he can be as whimsical as sanguine and as terrifying as vaermina. one time, before the grey march at the end of the third era, he went as jyggalag. everybody was completely horrified.
jyggalag doesn’t really attend the parties, despite sheogorath inviting him every year, until recently. he went exactly one time, as himself, since he didn’t really get the point of a costume party. that was even worse than the time sheogorath went as him, and everybody kinda freaked out. sheo had to apologize to everybody afterwards. since then, sheo stopped inviting him.
hermaeus mora doesn’t usually bother to go, either. but when he does, and he bothers to actually put on a costume.....hoo boy. vaermina tends to take notes.
nocturnal likes to decline the invitation, but sneak in anyway. nobody ever sees her there, but she always ends up knowing things people said, or taking with her certain objects or hors d’oeuvres. it’s pretty unnerving - like the time she took “clavicus”’s horns off his furry head without him or anybody else noticing for an hour.
meridia has a better attendance record than hermaeus and jyggalag, but kinda misses the point on the whole “costume party” thing. she just goes full high fashion, wearing really fancy and elaborate dresses and shoes and jewelry, always REALLY bright (whenever she shows up, “barbas” quips, “everybody, turn off the lights, the sun is here!”). for several years in a row meridia and azura had a bit of a pissing contest where they just kept wearing fancier and fancier shit, trying to outdo each other, until one year they became so distracted with their rivalry that nocturnal made off with every one of the thousands of jewels they wore without anybody noticing until malacath (as “boethiah”) asked, “is it dark in here.....or is it just me?” and striking a pose
#tes#tesblr#daedric princes#mephala#malacath#boethiah#azura#meridia#sheogorath#jyggalag#clavicus vile#barbas#vaermina#namira#mehrunes dagon#molag bal#peryite#hircine#sanguine#hermaeus mora#nocturnal
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