#the knights are all himbos confirmed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

frostsinth · 3 years

Text

Burdened by the Stars - Pt. 3

Part 1 | 2 - MasterList

Ok, so I’ve been sitting on this mostly finished part since basically the end of the Year. I’m sorry, I just forgot how close I was to being done. And for some reason, I’m enjoying daydreaming out chapters right now rather than writing them -sigh-

But either way, Here’s an update! I hope you guys continue to enjoy the dumbassery and himbo vibes! If you like my work, consider supporting me by buying me a coffee from the link in my MasterList above. I have lots of other inane ramblings there too if you are interested. DM me for commissions, shoot me asks with thoughts/comments!

All the best, and Enjoy!

He didn’t answer for a long moment, and I could almost feel his eyes boring into the back of my skull. I ignored him to the best of my ability, leading the mare not to the main road, but to a small deer trail that ran along the outside wall. Luckily, the goblins depended pretty heavily upon their enchantments. I wouldn’t have to worry about being spotted as we approached the wall and followed along the smoother track I had picked out years ago. Guards did not frequent the turrets, and I knew we would not set off the magical triggers here. Once we got into the castle? That would be a different story...

“You never told me your name.” Erramun called softly.

I stiffened, casting a quick glance at him over my shoulder. He was leaning over the horn of the saddle, perhaps trying to look nonchalant. But the grimace on his features confirmed it was simply the more comfortable position for him. I wondered at that for a moment. How well he had hidden his discomfort before. How far he had travelled with such an injury that obviously pained him so. I wasn’t sure if that made him lucky, or just stubborn. I watched his eyes studying the great stone wall we moved parallel to, and chewed over what answer to give him. Had he heard my name before? The name of the “goblin Princess”? If I told him it honestly, would he finally understand who it was he had been talking to all this time?

For some reason, I didn’t want him to make that connection. Not yet. Not ever, if I could avoid it. I was hoping that after I got his wound washed up and dressed, I would be able to convince him to give up his foolish folly. A part of me wondered if he would treat me differently, if he knew. Would he spend his energy attempting to win me over? I didn’t fancy the idea of having to fend off his advances. And if I was being completely honest… I rather liked how he treated me now. Like an equal. Not someone to fawn over, or try to flatter and praise to some unseen advantage. He didn’t act like I couldn’t do things for myself, or like it was beneath me to do so, as others so often did. But I knew I couldn’t avoid giving him a name forever...

“Gana.” I told him after a moment too long, settling on the name my nieces and nephews had dubbed me with years ago as toddlers unable to pronounce the full ‘Morgana’. “... My name is Gana.”

“Do you… serve the Princess then, Gana?” He asked, hesitant, but his tone curious. Then snorted slightly. “I’m not sure I can picture you as a servant. Obedient... quiet.”

“Well, you have known me for such a long time.” I replied, unwilling to give any real answer. “Obviously you would know, now wouldn’t you?” He started to open his mouth with a bemused curl in its corners but I waved my hand to silence him. “Shush now. Sneaking in requires a modicum of quiet, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Sneaking in?” He echoed, though I saw him wince at his own volume. He quickly corrected that to a whisper with his next words. “... Why are we sneaking in?”

I glanced at him again. “Because you’re an orc. Half-orc, alright.” I quickly corrected when I saw him open his mouth to argue. “Either way, you’ll raise a lot of questions. Call too much attention to us.”

“And that’s a…. Bad thing?”

I pulled us up beside the small side gate around the back side of the palace. His mare shifted nervously, and I saw her eyes roll to consider the steep drop off to our left. It was narrow here, but I knew she would fit safely. I had taken my own horse out this route more than once. I passed him the reins momentarily as I turned back to fiddle with the locks and latches.

“... It would just make things complicated, ok?” I told him distractedly. “Just... Trust me.”

I heard him give a deep rumble. “Alright. I do.”

I jerked my head back to him. “You do what?”

His emerald eyes seemed particularly vibrant against the grey sky overhead. “Trust you. You seem very kind, Gana. And very smart.”

I almost laughed, but quickly remembered where we were. I shook my head instead, bewildered. “You know I was being sarcastic before, right?” I quipped. “You don’t actually know me at all.”

Another rumble, and I saw him nod with it. “Yes… But you are the first human who did not seem afraid of me when you first saw me. And you speak plainly, not with that strange way of speaking without speaking.” He offered me a weak grin, and my heart skipped a little. “And now you, eh… sneak me into the castle. To help me. Even though I have offered you nothing in return.”

“What do you mean, speaking without speaking?” I asked, turning back to the latches to hide the sudden flush to my face.

A soft ‘hmm’ this time, as he struggled to find the right words. “The King, Valeri-whatsits. He would speak, and say words. And I would hear them, and I knew them. But I would learn nothing from them. He might as well not have spoken at all.” I could hear the frown lacing his next words. “I did not like it. I felt… foolish, and confused.”

I snorted, shaking my head and pulling the last lock loose. Unwinding the chains to yank open the creaky gate. It led into a deep tunnel, not quite high enough to ride through on horseback. I hoped for his sake Erramun continued to keep his head bowed over the horn of his mount’s saddle.

“That’s how court is.” I told him distractedly, waving them through before refastening the gate behind us. I took up the mare’s reins again to lead them through the tunnel. “People never say what they mean. And to learn anything, you have to ask the right questions. Then you have to listen to what people don’t say.”

His soft growl reverberated around the tunnel walls, and his mount skittered slightly at the sound. I could tell she was nervous by the close quarters, and patted her nose reassuringly. She gave a soft wuffing sound and nudged my shoulder.

“This makes no sense. Why not just-”

“Shh!” I told him, pulling up short as I heard the click of boots at the other end of the tunnel.

But after a moment, the sounds passed. I sighed quietly, then gave the mare a gentle tug to start leading her forward once more. The tunnel was not long, and within a few yards we were at its mouth. The large mare attempted to surge forward at this realization, eager to be in the open air, but I held her firm. Planting my heels to keep her from overwhelming me, though I was certain she would have no trouble doing so should she so choose. But she let me still her as I poked my head out first and looked around. The small side path was empty, and I quickly led us out and up. Heading from the outer wall around the outside of the city to the castle proper.

“... Can I speak now?” He asked after a little, and I rolled my eyes.

“Well, it seems you already did.”

He chuckled softly. “See? I like you. You do not speak without speaking. This is why I trust you.”

I paused, rubbing the mare’s nose absent mindedly. Feeling a stab of guilt at his words. After all, I might not beat around the bush like my brother... but I was certainly withholding a lot of information. She gave another soft wuff. I shook myself, bringing my mind back to the present, and started to lead her forward again.

“I was afraid all humans would be like the King.” He told me after a few moments. Seeming strangely eager to fill the silence that had fallen between us.

I peeked at him quickly. “Have you never met a human before?” I couldn’t help the curious edge to my tone.

He offered me a toothy grin. “Just one. My mother.” The half-orc tilted his head lazily to the side. “She used to tell me all kinds of stories when I was little. Mostly about Princesses, and knights, and other such childish things.”

“Hardly seems childish,” I scoffed, “I grew up in a castle, after all-” I stopped myself short, realizing I had almost let on to a little more than I had intended. I quickly changed the subject. “I’ve never met an orc before- HALF orc,” I corrected again, shooting him a look which he chased off with a grin as he withheld his objection, “I hope they are not all as dense as you.”

Erramun gave another light chuckle, obviously more amused than insulted by my comment. “I think some are denser.” He rubbed his free hand at the short cropping of hair by his temple. “... But I have been accused of having a heavy skull.”

You could say that again. I grumbled silently to myself. Still, I couldn’t resist another peek at him over my shoulder. It could have been my imagination, but he seemed to be drooping more and more. And perhaps his voice was becoming a little weaker. I would have to get him someplace soon, or else I would be wrangling with an unconscious orc in the hallways of the goblin castle. I didn’t fancy my chances of managing such a feat, especially while continuing to remain unnoticed. I was good, but I wasn’t that good.

I made a point to hurry as fast as I could manage through the outer city to the outer wall of the castle proper. We approached the servant and delivery entrance at the far back side without being spotted. It was quiet for the time being, as all morning deliveries would have already been completed and staff should have all been on site no later than an hour or so after dawn. I quickly led them through the wrought iron gate, then around the back to a small yard fenced in by short stone walls. Perhaps it had been intended for a garden at one point, but it was mostly dirt now, save for one small tree and some sparse grass. I knew the servants often used it to park carts meant to be unloaded for the kitchen, rather than bringing things through the front entrances.

“Can you walk?” I asked him, closing another small gate behind us.

He grunted the affirmative, and ungracefully dismounted. Leaning heavily against the mare still as he tried to find his balance. I wondered if he was perhaps far too prideful to trust his assessment of his abilities, and quickly began to consider a few alternative options in case that were true. Though I couldn’t think of any truly plausible ones at that moment. Then I saw him hesitate, stroking the mare’s mane fondly.

“... Will she be alright here?”

I was surprised at the tenderness in his voice. He was so large, with such a harsh looking brow and jutting teeth. Even by goblin standards he seemed a little monstrous. Which made his tone seem all the more misplaced, and I had to resist the urge to look around for a different source. I glanced over at the mare quietly instead as he gently stroked her thick white neck.

“... I’ll come down later to bring her to the stables.” I assured him. “But first, we need to get you up to the tower before you pass out.”

“The tower?” He echoed, giving the mare a final pat and staggering after me as I made my way to the servant’s door at the far side of the yard.

“You have a lot of questions for someone who has no options.” I grumbled, shouldering open the door and ducking through it. “Or perhaps you are actually half parrot as well as orc?” I put a little extra effort into pretending his irritating habit of echoing my words was the only reason I was so hesitant to answer his prying.

He chuckled, but didn’t answer either. Once through the door I turned to watch the orc scrunch his body up, bowing low at the waist and curling his wide shoulders, with his hands practically on the ground to balance himself. He slunk through the small doorway with a grunt. Once inside, he was barely able to straighten himself, his head bumping into the ceiling.

“... Is the whole building like this?” He asked a few yards down after the fifth low hanging lamp clunked him on the head.

I stifled a giggle, amused at his perturbed look as he rubbed at the side of his skull indignantly. He had to keep his head cocked to the side at an odd angle to keep from scraping the ceiling with each step. I pretended I wasn’t looking though as his emerald eyes swung back around, ducking through another particularly low frame. There was nothing to look at, after all, I reminded myself. Just a bloody half-orc who wanted to marry the Princess...

“These are the servant’s quarters.” I told him, unable to completely keep my amusement from my voice. “But it is a goblin castle after all. Most things are goblin sized.”

He grumbled again, opening his mouth to offer a retort. I quickly held up my hand, then brought my finger to my lips. Silencing him as a small gaggle of goblins passed us by, talking noisily among themselves. I waited until they were around the next corner, then turned back to the half-orc behind me. I tapped my lips again, then gestured for him to follow me.

We made our way through the rest of the castle almost without incident. Erramun got wedged in the narrow stairwell from the servants’ quarters to the main floor, but a bit of wiggling had him loose with only a few extra wasted minutes. Once there, the ceilings and hallways were a little larger, and I heard him sigh with palpable relief as he was able to straighten more comfortably. I led him as quickly as we were able. Skirting past guards and down side hallways to avoid the servants and guests. Luckily, I knew every nook and cranny by heart; I had spent every summer and winter here since I was nine years old. And had loved nothing more than to explore its vast expanse. The castle was huge, and intricately constructed. There were hundreds of rooms, at least as many hallways, and more than a few exciting features to keep an adventurous young spirit entertained. Goblins used magic nearly as often as they used conventional decoration and construction methods, and the castle was filled with enchantments. From doorways that opened by themselves, to moving mosaics and paintings, to candelabras that flared to life when you passed, to seemingly solid walls that one could walk right through. There was no shortage of things to astound. And that was just the castle! This didn’t even hold a candle to the massive goblin city in the tunnels and passageways beneath it.

It was also helpful that I was intimately familiar with the castle’s routine; when the servants changed the bedsheets or did the wash, when the guards made their rounds, when the nobles came to the drawing room for drinks and cards. The general bubbly air of the castle was almost infectious, and I couldn’t help smiling at the laughter and music that echoed down almost every hallway. Delicious smells filled the air as the cooks prepared the mid-day meal, and I heard the occasional clatter and clash of other servants cleaning or tidying.

A peek at Erramun found both his eyes and his mouth wide as he took it all in. I remembered fondly my own first time walking the halls, and I smiled warmly at the memory. I watched him crane his neck back to look at the intricate mosaics on the ceilings, then down to the floor to consider the no less than three to seven different rugs running the length of each hallway. Niko had done his best to instill a bit of order on the palace since he had moved in over a decade before. But goblins would be goblins, and they loved patterns and colors. To them, the more made the merrier, and their décor was absolutely overflowing with it. Curtains and lace and frills. Decadent chandeliers and sculptures and vases. Gold and silver, copper and bronze. Lapis lazuli, ruby, emerald, diamond, onyx, opal, sapphire. Anything and everything imaginable lined the walls and poured into the hallways themselves. It was a bit cluttered, and certainly overwhelming if you weren’t used to it. But each piece shone and sparkled, and the halls felt warm, clean, and welcoming despite being mostly dimly lit. Goblins could see in the dark, after all.

I wondered briefly if orcs shared this trait. If I recalled my history correctly, orcs and goblins shared an ancient common ancestor. I didn’t have an enchantment on my eyes as Niko did, but I had become rather adept at moving about in dimly lit places. And with more non-goblins wandering the halls these days, there were more sources of light than in the past. I burned with curiosity to know how Erramun’s half-orc blood affected his sight. But it was something that would have to be an investigation for later, as I felt silence was the key factor for our stealth through the castle. Thankfully, even if the half-orc had more questions, he kept them to himself for the time being, and followed behind me obediently. Perhaps sensing urgency and silence were key. Or perhaps lacking the strength or presence of mind to have any questions to ask. That was a worrying thought, and I cast another glance over my shoulder to check on him. He gave me a sheepish grin and a little wave of his big hand. Alright for the time being then, I supposed, ignoring the little flutter in my chest at his smile.

We reached the upper levels a few minutes later, above ground and built to seemingly grow up into the sky out of the mountainside itself. Filled with windows to pour the bright winter sun through. And enchanted to have more space on the inside than it would appear to have by the outside, though its actual physical size was certainly no small measure. I almost sighed with relief. The tallest and largest towers had been quartered off for private use by the Royal family, and thus were off limits to guests and other outsiders. There would be less people wandering the halls up here; most of my relatives should be in the castle below going about their daily responsibilities. My nieces and nephews would be with their tutors, and Grier and Nikostratus would be handling affairs of state. It was possible there might be a servant or two finishing up tidying the rooms from the morning, I reasoned. But for the most part that would have already been managed after the goblin King had finally been roused for the day. Likely no more than an hour or so before our arrival. My goblin brother-in-law was perhaps the farthest thing from a morning person possible, preferring to rise no earlier than noon if allowed, despite the fact that his husband was usually up at dawn every day. Being early risers was a trait my brothers and I all shared. But I was thankful that my timing was perfect for having returned at just the right time to have skirted running into either of the monarchs of this castle.

The upper floors also had the added advantage of being designed with human comfort in mind. It had taken less than a year for the goblins to realize that their new human King was much taller than any of them, and having door frames and handles set to goblin height was painfully uncomfortable for him (not that he would ever complain of course). They had adjusted many of the lower levels to be more accessible by both races in light of this (though still heavily favoring the smaller goblins). But our private quarters were almost a full foot taller than any of the others, with taller and wider doors, and handles set at almost waist level. The bottoms of the windows came to at least our hips as well, and the ceilings were at least 8 or more feet high. Certainly it was a relief to a stiff back to be able to come here at the end of a long day reaching for things closer to our knees than our hips and finally be able to straighten and relax our spines. I resisted the urge to stretch mine, as I usually did once I reached the top step, and settled with checking over my shoulder to see if Erramun had made it up the last flight of stairs.

He had, though sweat had broken across his brow, and his big eyes looked quite drained and tired. I jerked my head down the hall as he slowly raised his gaze to mine, panting lightly.

“Almost there.” I assured him. “Just down this hall.”

He managed a small grin, affirmative but tired, and nodded. I hoped he could hold out for the last few yards. I didn’t fancy trying to drag him the rest of the way to my chambers. I gestured for him to follow me, and turned to lead again. I had already started to relax, feeling a small, smug sense of accomplishment at having managed to sneak an orc of all things undetected through the castle.

So I nearly squeaked with surprise when we rounded the corner to find the door to my room unexpectedly ajar. And through it, I could just make out the shoulders of an all too familiar frame.

I quickly scrambled backwards, and found myself running into Erramun’s larger form. I didn’t have time to care about my body bumping awkwardly into his. I spun, placing both hands on his chest and giving him an urgent shrug. I thanked whatever god was listening that he responded effectively and without a word. Letting me half-push, half-steer him a few feet back down the hallway, though his eyes widened and his face became a mask of confusion as I did. A cold chill washed down my spine as I heard the familiar click of fine black boots on the tiled floor behind us. Then the creak of my door followed by the soft thunk as he pulled it closed behind him. But as we rounded the corner, I heard a soft feminine hum coming from the opposite direction, and my blood ran cold as well. I yanked the half-orc to a stop, nearly knocking him off balance in the process, spinning and searching the hall frantically. Knowing there would be no way to skirt both parties without detection and searching for the nearest hiding spot. I saw only one choice, short of throwing us both out the window, and decided quickly to utilize it.

I shoved Erramun into a small curtained alcove right at the bend of the rounded hall unceremoniously, and popped in right after. Settling the curtain back into place behind me. It was a tight fit with the big orc, and his shoulders shuffled aside the contents of the cupboard with a soft scuffle. But I found if I pressed my shoulders into his broad chest, I could just manage to keep myself from brushing against the covering curtain and my toes from popping out the bottom. I deftly caught the handle of a displaced broom as it started to topple, righting it and laying it lightly against the wall beside us before it’s fall would alert the pair in the hallway beyond. Then I strained my ears and listened to the fast approaching click of boots as well as the soft hum from the opposite direction.

“Ah, cara Hausa, I hope you are well,” came my brother’s voice in goblinese, and my spine stiffened at the sound nervously, “Have you seen the Princess of late?” I heard him ask after a brief exchange of formalities. “She is not in her rooms.”

“I am sorry, My King,” Came the reply, and I recognized the old head housekeeper Hausa’s distinctive, airy voice, “I have not seen her today, though I believe her Ladies went to town... Should I send the servants to search for her?”

“That won’t be necessary,” He replied, his voice its usual stiff and formal tone, “I am sure she will turn up soon. Thank you, cara Hausa.”

Their voices and footsteps slowly faded back towards the stairwell, and I allowed myself to breathe a sigh of relief I had withheld before. Allowing me a moment to bring myself back up to speed and assess our situation. I turned around to apologize to Erramun for his decidedly rough treatment... and found myself perfectly planted against his bare chest.

My heart leaped, and my eyes widened by a hair. I couldn’t help craning my neck back to look up at him (it was either that or stare at his well defined pectoral muscles), and found his emerald eyes waiting for me. It was then that I realized, somewhere amid the frantic shuffle, I had become quite neatly tucked against him in the cramped space. His free arm was wrapped around my waist, his broad shoulders hunched around me to better fit us both into the tiny alcove. One of my hands rested lightly on his arm, as if ready to pull him about again if needed, and the other hovered barely a hair away from his bare sternum. I felt a tightness in my chest I couldn’t remember having been there before, and froze in place. Trapped in those vibrant emerald eyes…

After a few skittering beats of my heart, I felt my brain quickly flood back into my skull. My eyes widened a hair more, and I shoved myself away from him. Tangling myself in the curtain behind me and upsetting the cleaning supplies behind him in the process. Nearly falling out into the hallway beyond as he nearly fell over into the wash bucket. I quickly righted myself, pushing the curtain to the side and noisily clearing my throat.

“Ah… S-sorry about that…” I mumbled, swallowing hard as my face flushed dark. I saw him nod slowly out the corner of my eye, otherwise silent as he righted himself. It took me a decidedly long time to remember what we had been doing before that moment. I turned, wrapping my arms about myself. “...This way.”

I skittered down the hall, glancing nervously about. As if my brother might still pop out from any corner. But the final stretch was empty, and I nearly sighed with relief as I shoved open the door to my rooms and quickly ushered Erramun inside. Trying not to remember how wonderfully warm his large arm had felt wrapped around my waist. And strong too, nearly as firm as stone. I quickly shook my head, latching the door behind me and forcing my thoughts to the issue at hand. Well, the bigger issue rather; that I now had successfully smuggled in a bloody and dirty orc into my private quarters.

My chambers had three rooms. The door from the hallway led to a sitting area, with a large fireplace and plush purple couches. The walls were lined with shelves, which were stuffed full of books, tomes, and scrolls. Most of which depicted the many adventures I longed to partake in. Others were atlases, or maps of the surrounding regions. A few were filled with ancient, unsolved mysteries or legends. Some had cultural histories, or descriptions of fantastical creatures and races. On the largest flat wall, I had tacked up an inked map of the world Grier and Niko had gifted me long ago. It was intricately detailed and enchanted so that the squiggly lines denoting the ocean rippled and the mountainous regions had swirly clouds shifting over their peaks. It also looked three dimensional, though it was in fact flat, and I had poked colorful pins and bobbles into the places I most wanted to visit. My desk was set beneath it, with stacks of papers and notes regarding each pin or region as well as small decorative boxes filled with things I had found exploring the castle and woods surrounding it. There was also a small table set before the couches, and a few chests filled with whatever I hadn’t been able to fit elsewhere. Sextants, small carvings, handmade memorabilia from far off lands my brothers and other nobles had gifted me. A few stuck out from the edges of the elegant chests, spilling like treasure onto the floor below.

Beyond the sitting room was my bed chamber, which had little aside from the large bed with thick velvet curtains and a big armoire stuffed to bursting with my clothes. There was also a vanity table, where I kept brushes and perfumes, gems and jewels, and other such things that were mostly left to gather dust. There was also a window seat, surrounded by piles of books I was currently working my way through, and a small balcony where I kept various potted plants. Many were also from far off lands carefully brought for my collection, though I knew my brother kept a far more extensive garden in the glass domed balcony above his chambers.

The final room was the smallest of the three, and contained a single deep pool with a small, crystal encrusted waterfall. It had a small alcove of mirrors set before a raised platform by the door to the bedroom, and a small stone table carved into the wall with a few brushes and other such personal care items. I had filled most of that room with potted plants as well, as sunlight filtered in through stained glass over the partially steepled ceiling. I used to imagine it as a magical lagoon when I was younger, though it had much more practical uses for me now.

I rested my forehead against the door for a moment with relief. Finally feeling a little calmer now that the worst was behind us. When I turned, I found the half-orc looking about curiously. His eyes wide and filled with wonder. I wasn’t sure why. There was nothing particularly special about my rooms. They were smaller than the other members of the family, mostly because I only lived here for part of the year. And also because I rarely spent more than a rainy afternoon in them.

“Sit down,” I ordered him, removing my cloak from my shoulders and draping over the back of the couch, “Let’s see if we can get your wound properly cleaned before infection sets in.”

“Who were they?” He asked as he slowly settled into the indicated seat; an old ottoman at the back of one couch.

“Who was who?” I asked absentmindedly, shuffling some things around in a brief attempt to clean the clutter. I gave up after another moment, simply kicking it all off to the side and gathering up a shallow porcelain basin from on top of one of the chests.

“The people, out there,” He nodded to the door and the hallway beyond, “They spoke funny. It sounded like Tlaloc, but it was all wrong.”

I hesitated, debating whether or not to tell him the truth for a moment. “They were speaking goblinese. The woman was Hausa, the head housekeeper for the Royal family.” I explained finally, “... The man was King Nikostratus…. What’s tlaloc?” I asked, quickly looking to change the subject.

Erramun chewed on his lip for a moment. “Eh? Oh… That’s what orcs speak.” I felt his eyes following me as I gathered some linens into the basin next. “... You said King Nicktosansus?”

I couldn’t suppress a small giggle. “Nikostratus.” I corrected him, collecting a pitcher of water in my free hand as I balanced the basin on my opposite hip.

He grunted, shaking his head. “Why do all the Kings here have such big names?” He grumbled. “King Vale-whatsits, King Nitostrawsus.”

“King Valerianus and King Nikostratus.” I corrected him good naturedly. “And that’s probably because they are brothers, I would think.” I carefully set the basin on the seat beside him, then went over to hoist a small side table and carry over. “Big long names are a bit of a tradition in the family.”

“Hmmm, seems silly.” He returned. “By the time I finish saying their names and titles, I could have said much more important things.”

I almost laughed. “You sound like Grier.”

“Grier?” He asked curiously.

I kicked myself internally for the slip, pursing my lips slightly as I set the table beside him and moved the basin to its top. “... King Grier, I should say.” I glanced at him out the corner of my eye. “That’s King Nikostratus’ husband. The goblin King.”

“So he is the goblin Princess’ father?” His voice reflected his piqued interest with a lighter tone. “I thought King Valer-whatsits might be her father, but he’s not a goblin, and they say he is her brother.”

I hesitated again, pouring some water into the basin and dropping one of the linens in. Exactly how much should I share? At what point would he figure it out?

“Ah… it’s… complicated.” I offered finally, ringing out the cloth distractedly. “But their father is dead.” I thumbed the cloth for a moment. “Long dead. It's just the three of them now.”

Erramun snorted, shaking his head. “Three Kings? There are too many Kings!” He complained. “Just tell me which one I need to challenge for the Princess.”

My head snapped over to him in surprise. “Challenge??”

He nodded eagerly, and the light in his eyes spreading from a broad smile over his lips. “Yes! After I convince her to marry me, I must defeat her father in combat to win the Princess. Though I suppose one of these Kings will have to do.” He leaned back, seeming to mull that over. “I think a goblin would be easiest to best, but there would be no real challenge in it.”

Anger flared up in me. “What makes you think you can just win her?” I snapped. “Is the Princess just some trophy to you??”

Now it was his turn to look surprised. “That is just the way of things.” He argued. “A man finds his partner, then has to prove he would be a good husband. The best way to do that is to defeat their father in combat.” He nodded assuredly. “That way they both know he is strong enough to-”

“That sounds stupid.” I cut him off crossly, putting my hands on my hips and scowling at him.

He frowned back at me, his heavy brow scrunching together. “That is the way of things!”

“For orcs, maybe!” I shot back. “But you can’t just carry off whomever you like! Just muscle your way into a marriage and force someone’s hand!”

That gave him pause, and he looked me up and down. We were almost perfectly eye level with him sitting. I watched him chew his lip again, seeming to think it over quietly.

“... This is not how goblins do it?”

I scoffed again. “Absolutely not!” I snapped. “Nor humans!”

He fell silent again. And I glared at him for a long, angry moment before tossing up my hands with a frustrated tch. I stomped over to another chest, kicking it open and digging through it for a moment.

“... How do I win the goblin Princess then?” He asked after a little while.

I shot him a scalding look over my shoulder. “You don’t. The Princess is not for sale, nor for winning. She doesn’t want to marry anyone. Ever. Period. End of discussion.” I slammed the chest shut, having not found what I was looking for yet, and stomped past him over to the next. “So after I wrap up your stupid cut, you’d best shove off. Agreed?”

I was stopped short as his big hand came out. Catching my arm and stilling me. I was so surprised, my eyebrows flew up, and I looked at him with wide eyes. His face was soft, recalcitrant. He chewed on his thick bottom lip for another moment before finally looking up at me with those dazzling emerald eyes.

“I am sorry, Gana,” He told me, his thick voice heavier with his sullen apology, “I did not mean to upset you…” He grunted, giving my arm a gentle tug. Pulling me a step closer to him before I had fully realized what he was doing. “If this was an orc, I would better know what to do. I could take them hunting with me, or maybe cook a beast I had killed myself.” I looked down at him, his broad chin craned up slightly to keep our eyes locked. “I do not know how to impress a King, or a Princess.” He scoffed slightly, finally releasing my arm and looking away. “I have not even met her yet and I have already failed.”

I rubbed at my arm where his hand had been, frozen in place with my confusion. “... It doesn’t matter.” I told him, a bit bitterly. “Like I said… The Princess isn’t interested in getting married.”

I turned and walked more quietly over to the chests. Pulling it open more carefully and digging through its contents. The silence stretched for a long, strained moment. I pulled out a few glass jars of healing balm, laying them on the floor by my knees as I put the other things back into place.

“.... What is she interested in, then?”

I couldn’t suppress a soft laugh, shaking my head. “So now you want to know more about her?” I scoffed, standing with my bounty and making my way back over. “Maybe that was something you should have thought of before you decided to marry her?”

He shrugged his big green shoulders noncommittally, then winced as it stretched his wound. “I mean, I didn’t think it was important…”

I raised a brow at him, dropping the supplies on the bench beside him. “It’s not important to know anything about the person you were going to spend the rest of your life with?”

He frowned, his thick lip wobbling about his small tusks as he seemed to chew that over. “I never thought of it like that…”

“How did you think of it then?” I asked, moving over to the basin once more. “Did you think you would see her for the first time and just… fall in love?”

Erramun fell silent, his brow furrowing deeply again. I soaked the cloth, wringing it out briefly before turning to him. I was surprised to find him still quiet, obviously lost in thought. I cocked one hip to the side, looking him up and down. His emerald green eyes glanced over at my movement.

“Don’t think too hard,” I advised, “You’ll make smoke come out of your ears.”

The big fellow gave a grunt that heaved the entirety of his torso up and down, then shook his head. I watched him for another moment, then glanced down at the wet cloth in my hands. Then back at him. My entire face starting to grow hot. After another tense moment, I tossed the cloth back into the basin.

“It’s no use, you’re filthy.” I told him irritatedly.

He cocked one large bushy brow up. “Does this bother you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Besides the fact that you stink, I mean that one measly little cloth is not going to be enough to clean all…” I hesitated, my hand halfway through gesturing over his muscular torso. I cleared my throat. “... That…”

Erramun gave me a dopey grin, leaning on his palms at the edge of his seat. “Perhaps I am too much a challenge for you then?”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again, pretending my cheeks weren’t flushing dark at his words. I shook my head and placed my hands on my hips. Scowling at him.

“You’ll have to bathe.” I jerked my head to the back room. “You know how to I hope?”

He gave a growl, then jerked himself clumsily to his feet. Forcing me to stagger back a step or two to avoid bumping into him as he did. I quickly rebalanced myself, letting my scowl deepen as I had to tilt my head back to look up at him now.

“I think I can manage.” He mused, then glanced over at the door.

“Good.” I grumbled, crossing my arms and looking off to the side to avoid staring at his broad chest again. “You do that. I’ll see if I can find you something to wear.”

“Something to wear?” He echoed, surprised.

“Definitely part parrot.” I snipped at him. “Yes, fool orc. Something to wear. Your skirt is filthy, and you stand out like a sore thumb as you are.”

He seemed to consider this, rubbing his furs between a thumb and finger. “And that would be a bad thing, yes? ... Your men do not wear their skins as this?”

I shook my head. “No. But,” I paused, looking him over, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to find anything big enough…” I slipped past him, walking over to the door to the bathing rooms and sliding it open. “I don’t suppose you can avoid drowning for now while I go look for something?”

His grin returned, and I stiffened slightly at the sight of it. “I think I can manage.” He replied again. Then tilted his head to the side. “... Will you be long?”

It took me longer than I cared to admit to find my breath again. The way he asked… made it sound almost hopeful. I swallowed the dryness from my throat, shrugging my shoulders.

“I make no promises.” I returned, as airy as I could manage, and he chuckled. Sluggishly striding over and pausing at the opposite side of the door. I saw him glance in briefly, before returning his attention to me.

“I will wait for you then, Gana. As long as you need.”

I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding as he slipped past me into the rooms. I intended to turn and head back out to scour the Royal quarters for clothes large enough to fit an orc. But couldn’t help lingering an extra moment as I watched him unfasten the strap to his pauldron. He rubbed at his wounded side as he dropped the scanty armor onto the stone floor, then glanced over his shoulder at me. I quickly pretended I had merely been double checking the towel situation by the door. Turning to make my way back out when his voice came once more and gave me pause.

“... When you return, perhaps we can speak more about what the Princess is like?”

The sliding door made a satisfying snap as I forcibly shut it behind me.

UPDATE: Part Four HERE

#Burdened by the Stars #slow burn #frenemies #angst #monster romance #regency romance #monster x human #monster lover #monster boyfriend #orc #half-orc #orc lover #orc boyfriend #orc x human #terato #exophilia

62 notes · View notes

sleepless-in-starbucks · 4 years

Text

My Prince

Ao3

Summary: Logan was a knight. As such, it was his duty to protect and guard the prince. No matter the sacrifice, Logan would always make it for his prince- even if it might cost him his life. Content: Major character injury, major injury, stabbing/stab wounds, blood/coughing up blood, hiding injuries, being caught trying to hide injuries, collapsing, some not listening to a doctor/medic, talk of death/dying (but no actual death), talk of grief, poor self-care, a bit of panic, Logan thinks Roman’s going to kill him for one scene because Logan’s exhausted and prone to panicking, cuddling + literally sleeping together, despite the pain the bois are Somft and this fic does have a happy ending Pairing: QPR (technically ambiguous but meant to be QPR) Logince Notes: do NOT do what Logan did in this fic, he was being a big himbo, if you are hurt TELL SOMEONE. Also this fic is ~8.6k don’t read if you’ve got things to be doing

There were a lot of things Logan didn’t like about battles. They were loud. There were too many people. Blood really didn’t smell that good, especially mixed in with sweat. They almost always ended with him getting injured.

Though Logan had to admit, he normally didn’t get injured this bad.

It hadn’t been his fault, not really- a bad parry that had left his enemy’s sword in his chest instead of out of their hands, that was all, but it had still happened and Logan was still left clutching at his chest and grinding his teeth together as he finished off the handful of enemies still standing around him. He was lucky it was a late-battle injury- he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done if there were still hundreds of troops to fight off.

As soon as he dispatched his last combatant, Logan let out a groan, planting his sword in the ground and leaning on the hilt of it as he glanced at his injury. It was bad, even an idiot could tell that- the sword had gone all the way through his chest, blood staining his uniform on both sides as he watched. Given where it was located, Logan was lucky he wasn’t coughing up blood.

Logan sighed. That couldn’t be ignored (according to his fellow knights and prince, none of his injuries could be ignored; this was just one of the few times Logan agreed with them).

Pulling the ‘temporary skin’ potion off of where it hung from his hip, Logan smeared the sticky liquid across both sides of his wound, watching as skin that was an angry-red colour stretched over the cut. It wasn’t a good solution, he was well aware of that- it wasn’t going to stop all the bleeding, and the fake skin would soon break down; it was meant to be used in severe emergencies only, after all- but it would take care of the issue for the moment, and that was all Logan needed.

Certain that his wound was taken care of for the present, Logan finally sheathed his sword and made his way over to where the rest of the knights had gathered, patching themselves up and taking head counts of the various squadrons. Though he spared a glance about as he pushed through the various groups, Logan was more focused on getting to his primary charge.

“I’m dying, I tell you, dying! Call the will-writers, the cask-makers, the mourners! I shall never make it back to the castle!”

Sounded like he was doing fine.

Stepping past the final row of ambling soldiers, Logan smiled despite the pain that was still pulsing in his chest when he spotted Roman. The prince was sitting next to his horse, propped up by a rock he must have found for the express purpose of laying against dramatically while a soldier attempted to do something with his leg.

“Your highness, it’s not as severe of an issue as you seem to think it is.” The soldier tried to assure Roman. Logan shook his head. They must be new.

“I don’t think you understand, dear knight, I am DYING! This shall be the wound that ends me. To think that such a prince of power and awe might be taken out by such a mild battle is hard to believe, I know, but it is the truth!” Roman proclaimed, laying his hand over his forehead and leaning backwards in full dramatics. “Do not remember me like this, I plead, but instead as I was in battle, a mighty force of strength and-”

“I believe that is enough out of you, your highness.” Logan interrupted, coming over and taking over for the soldier who had been helping Roman. They passed the gauze in their hand over to Logan in relief, happy to walk away and allow Logan to take up their task- wrapping the long cut running up the side of Roman’s right leg.

“Logan! My dear knight!” Roman greeted excitedly, smiling up at Logan despite his earlier cries of ultimate pain and death. “Have you come to witness my demise?”

“Considering your wound seems to only bear the potential for severe complications at worst, I find it doubtful you shall be dying today, your highness.” Logan said in amusement as he set about securing the bandages around Roman’s cut.

“How dare you defy your prince’s sound and always unerring judgement.” Roman reprimanded, though he was still smiling, tone teasing. “And I’ve told you before, Lo, call me Roman. I can only hear so many people call me ‘your highness’ before I go mad.”

“As you wish, your highness.” Logan responded, smirking when Roman rolled his eyes. “Now, Roman, do you require a healing potion for your grievous injury?”

“I think I would rather suffer. It is the way of the hero, after all!”

“Suffering needlessly when there are resources available to aid you is not heroic- it’s simply foolish.” Logan corrected. “May I fetch you a potion or shall I be forced to suffer your complaints throughout the entirety of the return journey?”

Roman sighed, holding it out for almost an entire minute before he said, “Fine. But only if no one else requires it.”

Logan nodded, noting the seriousness in Roman’s voice. For all his dramatics, the prince valued all of his subjects and had a borderline stupid tendency to always put their well-being before his own. “I will go check. Do you think you can survive a minute without me?”

“If I must…”

With a chuckle that was cut short by the stabbing pain it caused right where his wound was, Logan stood and walked over to where the designated medic was. The title was little more than honorific, indicating only that they held the bag of healing potions and not that they were an actual medic. Actual medics rarely came along to battles, especially to ones so close to base.

“Medic.” Logan addressed, catching the designated medic’s attention. “How are the troops?”

“Attended to.” The designated medic replied. “All soldiers have been patched up and healed as necessary.”

Logan nodded once. “Healing potions?”

“We have one left.” The designated medic replied, reaching into their satchel and removing a small vial of bright orange-pink liquid. “Do you require it?”

“The prince does.” Logan answered, and the designated medic nodded, passing the vial to Logan. Barely a moment after, they were called for, and they gave Logan another nod in farewell before heading off in the direction of the call.

Left by himself, Logan looked down at the vial in hand, biting the bottom of his lip. On one hand, the potion would greatly help him- if nothing else, it would certainly dull the pain of his injury, which would likely have been unbearable if Logan wasn’t so good at ignoring it.

On the other, Roman was hurt. Not gravely so, but he was still injured. And with the chance of infections or further damaging of the injury, the cut being left untreated could pose a serious risk to Roman’s health.

Plus, he was the prince. It was Logan’s duty and honor to serve him and keep him safe above all else, himself included.

So, ignoring the steady pulse of pain in his chest, Logan kept the vial corked and returned to Roman. He resumed his position beside Roman, this time closer to his head than his leg as he offered the vial to him.

“Your potion.” Logan said, quirking up the corner of his mouth. “I hope it will bring you away from the doorstep of death you seem to have found yourself on.”

Roman accepted the potion, though he hesitated before taking it. “You are certain there is no other who needs this more than I?” He asked in confirmation.

“No one. All other warriors have been attended to.”

“Yourself included?” Roman asked, to which Logan titled his head and tried his best to look confused instead of possibly caught red-handed. “You’re drenched in blood, Lo.”

“It’s not mine.” Logan replied, which wasn’t a complete lie. Not all of it was his, after all. Just… a vast majority of it.

“Mhmm.” Roman hummed, in a way that suggested he just barely believed Logan. “Are you sure?”

“I think I would be aware if I had been injured.”

“You’d hope. But still. You’ve checked yourself over? You’re completely alright?”

“I assure you, Roman, I am just fine.” Logan lied, well aware that even a hint of hesitation from him would have Roman forcing him to take the potion even if Logan really was fine. “We leave for the castle soon. The sooner you ingest the potion, the sooner it can get to work, and the smoother your trip will be.”

Roman watched Logan for a moment longer, clearly searching for a lie, but eventually he opened the vial. “If you’re sure.” He said, in a soft voice that suggested he was choosing to trust Logan in this, trust that he was okay and Roman was the one in greater need of the potion.

Logan didn’t flinch as he nodded. “I am.”

And with that assurance, Roman drank the healing potion, and Logan let out a small sigh of relief. The potion should kick in near immediately, reducing Roman’s injury down to little more than a scratch in a few hours and hopefully stave off any chance of infection in minutes, which meant that for the moment, Roman was safe.

Of course, Logan still had a barely-addressed hole in his chest, but he was ignoring that perfectly well, so he was fine. Or, at least, he’d be fine long enough to make it back to the castle, where there’d be more healing potions and actual medics whose services he could use without taking anything from Roman.

“Now that,” Roman said as he swallowed the potion, grinning as a bit more colour came to his cheeks and a lot more theatrics came into his tone, “may have just saved my life. You are truly a lifesaver, my dear knight.”

“I think the potion is more what helped you than I, my prince.” Logan said, standing up and offering a hand to help pull Roman up.

“Yes, but you brought me that potion.” Roman countered, taking the proffered hand and allowing Logan to help get him on his feet. Logan bit his lip as he did so, trying to ignore how the motion pulled on his temporary skin and made his wound ache. “Therefore, you saved my life.”

“If that is what you wish to believe.” Logan returned, assisting Roman in mounting his horse as to ensure minimal strain was put on Roman’s leg wound. Of course, this ended up putting more strain on his own injury, but Logan once more ignored the ache. “Are you ready to begin the march back to the castle?”

Roman took a moment to answer, settling himself in his saddle before he nodded. “Let us return to tell grand tales of our conquest!”

Logan scoffed before he started calling out orders to the troops, the men picking themselves up as best they could and falling into place, lined up and prepared for the journey back to the castle. It took them a couple of minutes to finish organizing themselves, but soon enough, everyone was in order, and Logan gave the signal to begin walking. As the knights behind him started moving, Logan took up his own position at the side of Roman’s horse.

At first, all was as it always was for the journey back to the castle- the sound of nearly identical footfalls against the ground was comforting in its familiarity, as were Roman’s random and slightly asinine remarks (normally about ‘facts’ about the surrounding wildlife), and despite the fact that his wound seemed to pulse with every step, the pain was manageable. It seemed that while Logan would be quite exhausted by the time they reached the castle, he wouldn’t be too badly off overall.

But that was before the coughing started.

It had only been an hour or two since the march had begun, the ache in Logan’s chest having been steadily growing but not doing much more than annoying him. Roman was in the middle of trying to explain to Logan why country birds were so dully coloured in relation to the concrete existence of Dragon Witches when Logan first coughed, dutifully coughing into his elbow and not thinking much of it.

At least, until he realized that he hadn’t just coughed- he had coughed up blood.

It wasn’t that much, not really, just a droplet or two, but the bright red colour still stood out against the dull blues and dried reds of his bloodstained uniform. Logan’s eyes widened at the sight and he hastened to rub it away, blending it in with the other stains. It was likely just the result of… of a cut in his mouth, or something equally mundane- it was nothing to worry Roman over, and worry Roman would if he realized Logan was coughing up blood, no matter the reason for it.

Rubbing the last of the stain away into the side of his uniform, Logan tried to put the incident out of mind. He was sure it was just a one-off thing.

That was, until he coughed again. And again. And on and on, single coughs turning into clusters that Logan was worried would soon progress into fits. He had managed to keep the prince from noticing thus far, both the coughs and the slowly increasing amounts of blood they carried with them, but if he couldn’t figure out a way to get them better under control and soon, he would be caught.

Within the hour, his assumption proved to be correct- busy trying to cough as discreetly as possible, Logan fell behind Roman, who noticed his knight’s absence almost immediately. Though Logan managed to hide the blood before Roman looked back at him, he wasn’t able to mask the fact that he had been coughing.

“Logan, are you alright?” Roman asked, slowing his horse a bit as Logan hurried to resume his position beside Roman. “You’ve been coughing an awful lot…”

“I’m fine, you- Roman.” Logan responded, catching the formality while also trying to focus on not beginning coughing again. “I believe something has gotten in my throat, that is all.”

“Do you need us to stop, my dear knight?” Roman asked, tone softer than Logan would have expected when using that nickname. It was a joke, after all, a reference back to when Roman had first called Logan ‘dear knight’ and had been met by Logan telling him he was not Roman’s ‘dear.’ So, of course, Roman went about calling him ‘my dear knight’ ever since. It was meant to be teasing, not sincere. “We can take a break if you need to catch your breath.”

“That will not be necessary, but thank you.” Logan said respectfully. Taking a break would only increase the amount of time it took him to reach the castle and receive help. “I do not want to delay our journey.”

“It will be no hassle.”

“Still, I must insist we continue.” Logan reiterated, refusing to allow the stop. Though he appreciated Roman’s concerns, stopping would do him little good.

“Alright.” Roman relented, though he continued to watch Logan worriedly. Aware of the prince’s gaze, Logan tried to stifle the cough attempting to rise in his throat, but he only managed to keep it at bay for a few minutes before he was back to splattering blood on the arm of his uniform, making sure to keep the bend of his elbow tight and close to him so that Roman couldn’t see the new red stains.

“Are you certain you’re okay?” Roman asked, the question rhetorical as he quickly pressed on before Logan had the chance to answer, “I know you do not wish to delay us, but you seem to truly need a rest. If it would suit you better, I would not mind parting with or sharing my stead. It would hardly take a minute to arrange- it would be no hindrance to our journey.”

At this offer, Logan hesitated. The thought of not having to walk anymore was enticing, he had to admit. Without having to exert himself in any way, Logan would have more air and energy, which, if nothing else, would make the rest of his journey to the castle at least a little less painful.

But the consequences of the possible actions weren’t nearly as positive- either Roman would be forced to walk, aggravating his leg wound and possibly reopening it, or the two of them would ride together and would definitely be forced to endure the criticism and rumors of the high court. Logan knew perfectly well there had already been plenty of less-than-kind words about his and Roman’s relationship that had spawned from the fact that he talked to Roman slightly more often than other knights- he didn’t want to see what sort of scandal them sharing a horse could cause.

So, once more, he found himself refusing the idea. “That is a very kind offer of you, my prince, but I assure you that my legs are fit to carry me and that I am fit to walk.”

Roman let out a breath. “You know, Logan, for all you call me stubborn and head-strong, you often display those very traits.” He commented, sounding both amused and still worried, though Logan was relieved to find the amusement seemed to be out-weighing the worry. Roman leaned backwards on his horse, rummaging around in one of its satchel bags before he pulled out a canteen. He then shifted his position, proffering the canteen to Logan. “At least have some water? To soothe your throat, since it is clear I cannot convince you to rest it.”

Logan hesitated a moment before accepting the container. If it would make Roman feel better about his well-being, it couldn’t hurt to have a sip.

He was careful as he drank, not wanting any excess blood in his mouth to stain the lip of the canteen or end up in the water. It was worth it, however, the lukewarm water still nice against his sore-from-coughing throat.

After a sip slightly longer than he likely should have taken, Logan returned the lid to the top of the canteen and tried to hand it back to Roman. But the prince shook his head.

“Keep it.” He said, waving his hand as if to dismiss the idea that he would take his canteen back. “You need it more than I.”

Logan didn’t fight him this time, simply nodding his head and muttering a “Thank you, my prince.” before he hooked the canteen onto his hip. Roman nodded as well, watching Logan a moment longer before he set his eyes forward on the road ahead, seemingly reassured by the fact that Logan had accepted some help, if not much.

And for a while, his reassurance seemed sound- aided by the water, Logan was able to beat back more of his coughs, though the taste of blood remained ever-present in his mouth. With the majority of Logan’s coughing abated, Roman went back to narrating their journey, featuring many incorrect facts and legends. It was that inattention that caused him to miss when Logan ran out of water, and to miss when Logan’s coughing once more turned ‘ugly.’

Logan, on the other hand, was completely unable to miss either of these things, nor was he able to miss just how much blood he coughed up this time. Even rubbing his arm against the side of his uniform, he was only able to hide so much of it. Grimacing at the bright red stains, Logan tucked his arm against his chest, hoping that would be enough to keep the fresh blood out of Roman’s sight, biting back on the cough he could already feel building in the back of his throat as well.

Predictably, he wasn’t able to smother the cough, and the following coughing fit had him once more following behind Roman. The amount of blood he was coughing up now was unhealthy, he could tell at a glance, a fact that was only reinforced by the dizzying headache that was beginning to plague him.

“Logan?” Roman’s voice got his attention, Logan looking up as soon as he had smeared the last of the blood on his lips off on his uniform, once more pressing his arm to his side. Roman’s gaze was focused on Logan, looking deeply concerned. “I hate to sound repetitive, but are you certain you are well? Because you really don’t look well.”

Forcing himself to straighten up and clear his throat, Logan ignored the much-too-present taste of blood in his mouth and once more pushed himself to resume his position next to Roman as he replied, “I do not mind the repetition, my highness, so long as you don’t mind that my answer remains unchanged- I am perfectly alright.”

Roman’s concern only seemed to grow at that answer, however, a look of confusion also coming into his eyes. He held Logan’s gaze for a moment, Logan trying to stop himself from erupting into another coughing fit as he did so, before he raised his hand and called out, “Halt troops!”

Near immediately, the troops around them stopped marching, squadron leaders calling out to stop those too far out from Roman to hear his direct order. Logan held his composure as well as he could as Roman dismounted his horse, coming over to stand directly in front of Logan.

“My highness?” Roman repeated. Logan frowned, unsure why he’d feel the need to once bring attention to that, unless-

Placing a hand to his head, Logan turned his eyes downwards. “Apologies, Roman, I didn’t mean-”

“That’s not the problem here, Logan.” Roman interrupted, prompting Logan to once more look up at him, tilting his own head slightly in confusion. Roman was frowning now as well, though he still seemed to be nothing more than distressed by Logan. “Plenty of people have mixed up ‘my’ and ‘your’ before, but never you. You’ve been lying to me about being fine, and while I’m not going to hold that against you, the lies must stop now. Something’s wrong. What is it?”

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Roman, I’m-” Logan was cut off by the coughing fit he had been suppressing, doubling over even as he pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to stop the coughs. All he succeeded in doing, however, was covering his hand in blood, coughs continuing to spill out of his mouth despite him.

“Logan?!” Roman cried out next to him, and Logan could just barely tell that the prince had grabbed his other arm, offering a balance that Logan likely would have fallen over already without. He was more focused on his coughing and the new ache in his torso, a tearing one that was soon followed by gushing warmth down his back and chest as his temporary skin broke down, likely from the strain he had been putting on it with all his coughing. “Oh, I’nago, that’s a lot of blood- Lo? Logan!”

Against his every wish, the world was fading away from Logan, darkness taking over the edges of his vision and spilling into the forefront of it as well. He lost his footing, coughing even as he fell forward. His awareness was all but gone, the feeling of arms holding him up and the sound of panicked yelling around him fading out with the rest of the vision as he slipped into blessed, painless unconscious.

Consciousness didn’t return to Logan quickly, or nicely, or even cleanly. Which was probably fair- Logan hadn’t exactly dealt with his issues quickly or nicely or cleanly. But that didn’t make it fun to deal with.

Logan wasn’t sure how long he was stuck in the in-between of awake and asleep, only getting glimpses and fleeting moments of reality- the steady thump of a horse running as someone held him close, the sounds of someone panicky and someone calm yelling at each other, someone softly running their hands over his arms and mumbling gentle nonsense to him, and pain. So, so much pain.

But eventually, he did wake up.

The room he was in was dark, the few lights that were in the room purposefully dim. Logan chose to be thankful for that, squinting against even the low light. What details of the room he could make out were foreign to him, the bed beneath him unfamiliar and the furniture around the room of a design he couldn’t recognize.

An inn room, then, or some other stopping place between the castle and wherever the troops had been when Logan had collapsed. Even though Logan couldn’t remember there being any inns or towns or such on the road to and from the battlefield, that had to be the answer- if he was at the castle, he would be in his own quarters, and these were most certainly not his quarters.

Soon enough, Logan’s search of the room led to him spotting the stranger sitting at his bedside. They were dressed in a dark cloak that concealed the majority of their features, a book open in their lap, seemingly ignoring Logan. Before he could say anything to them, however, their gaze flicked up, and they locked eyes with Logan.

“Finally.” They said, sounding relieved in the most annoyed way possible as they placed their book to the side. They scooted their chair closer to the bed, reaching into their cloak and pulling out a vial of something dark purple with hints of gold. They tugged the cap off before putting it up to Logan’s lips. “Drink.”

Tired and confused, Logan did as he was told without thinking, swallowing the potion despite the slightly acidic taste it had. The stranger pulled the vial away when Logan was finished, recapping it before they put it back in their cloak.

“Who are you?” Logan rasped after a minute passed in silence, the stranger seemingly content to not tell Logan anything as they looked him over.

“Virgil.” They answered curtly. “And don’t speak.”

Logan, deciding he had too many questions to remain silent, ignored them. “Why are you here? Why am I here?”

“I’m a medic, and we’re both here because someone thought hiding their massive internal injury was a good idea.” Virgil snapped. “Now shut up. You need to be resting.”

“Where am I?”

Virgil sighed, raking a hand down the side of their face. “Stubborn, of course- you’re worse than the prince, and that’s saying something.”

Logan’s eyes widened at the mention of the prince and he moved to sit up, the need to find Roman and ensure he was okay a sudden and rather illogical need, but a need he had to chase anyways.

That was, until Virgil’s hands landed on his shoulders a bit harsher than Logan felt strictly necessary and pushed him back down.

“Listen, using up your energy to ask pointless questions is one thing.” Virgil huffed as they moved from the armchair to sit on the edge of the bed, still holding Logan down. “But if you try to get up, you will break or tear something, and there are only so many times I can save your life. So for the love of Wycus- Do. Not. Move.”

Logan huffed as well, but he settled, and after eyeing him distrustingly for a moment, Virgil took their hands off of him.

“You never answered my question.” Logan brought up. “Where am I?”

“The prince’s chambers.”

More on reflex then by choice, Logan jerked upwards, immediately regretting the decision when pain shot through his chest and made the room spin. Once more, Virgil shoved him down, though Logan could’ve sworn they were gentler this time, recognizing the motion hadn’t exactly been fun for Logan.

“I will knock you out if you do anything else like that.” Virgil threatened, this time leaving one hand on Logan’s shoulder even as he raised a hand to cover his eyes, grimacing at how his head continued to pound even though he was no longer sitting up. “If you’re going to react like this every time your boyfriend is mentioned, I will make sure you do not so much as come within a squadron’s length of him until there is not a single scar left on your chest.”

“Prince Roman is not my boyfriend.” Logan corrected through a hiss of pain, moving his hand from his eyes to press against the site of his wound. He could tell that heavy gauze covered it now, even through the fabric of the shirt he realized he must have been changed into. “Why am I in his chambers? My own lodgings are right within this castle- that is where I always go to recover from battles, why is this one different?”

“That’s something you can ask your not-boyfriend.” Virgil responded, turning their head at the sound of a door opening. “Speak of Evil and find her amongst you.”

Careful to not truly sit up (Logan wholeheartedly believed Virgil would knock him out if he did so), Logan lifted his head as much as he could to see Roman. Though he was dressed in his royal robes, Roman seemed anything but grand- his head was held lower than usual and he seemed disheartened. Even after closing the door, he lingered in place for a moment, running a hand through his hair and looking down.

“Your highness,” Virgil called out, though the address was almost mocking, lacking the respect the title was meant to carry, “are you going to mope in the doorway forever? I don’t know how long your knight is going to be awake- I’d suggest you’d use your time more wisely, though I know wisdom is not your strong suit.”

Instantly, Roman perked up, turning in the direction of the bed with renewed interest. “He’s awake?” Roman asked pointlessly as he rushed over, his question answered as soon as Logan met his eyes. “Logan.”

“Your highness.” Logan responded in turn as he quickly scanned Roman. The prince seemed to be fine, no limp or bandages to be seen. He was okay. Of course, logically, Logan had already known he would be alright, but the reassurance of seeing it and knowing it for fact was dizzying (though that might have still been his injuries).

“I thought I told you to call me Roman.”

“Roman, then.” Logan corrected, even though he was certain Roman wouldn’t have cared right then what exactly Logan called him so long as Logan was awake enough to call him anything.

Beside him, Virgil groaned. “I can’t bear this.” They declared, removing their hand from Logan’s shoulder as they stood, heading for the door. They stopped when they came to Roman’s side, turning to face the prince as they ordered, “Do not let him move, do not let him stand, do not let him sit up or I will revoke your rights to see my patient. You two can talk as long as he is awake, but if he begins to show signs of tiring, he must rest. You know where to find me if he starts spasming.”

Finished, Virgil resumed their walk, leaving the room without another word. Roman watched them go, turning back towards Logan as soon as they were gone. “Apologies if they seemed… harsh.” Roman said, not moving from where he stood near the foot of Logan’s- Roman’s?- bed. “What they lack in bedside manner, however, they make up entirely with skill. I assure you that you are in good hands.”

“I have complete faith in all the castle’s laborers.” Logan responded. “Though I admit I do not believe I have met Virgil before. Are they new?”

Roman chuckled, pulling his fingers through his hair before he answered, “No, not at all- they’ve been with the castle for a very long time.”

Logan frowned. That couldn’t be possible- he knew nearly every medic employed to the service of the army, and he definitely knew all the old ones. Logan should have known them. “How is that possible?”

With another chuckle, Roman moved so that he was sitting on the bed beside Logan, looking him over in a way that almost seemed like he thought he’d never get to see Logan again. “They’re not an army medic, Lo. They’re the royal medic.”

“They’re- why am I being seen to by the royal medic?” Logan asked, fighting back the urge to sit up so that he could be on level with Roman. “Why am I in your chambers and not my own? What is going on?”

“What’s going on is that you were grievously injured, a fact you neglected to inform me of until you collapsed while coughing up blood, and I was worried.” Roman answered, placing a hand on Logan’s shoulder, moving it down and up his arm at a steady pace. The motion was comforting and familiar, and muscles Logan didn’t realize he had tensed relaxed. “Virgil is the best medic there is. My room ensured you were safe, warm, and… and close. This was the absolute best place for your recovery.”

“I apologize for causing you undue worry, my prince, and you have been very kind in your hospitality.” Logan told him. “But I still don’t understand. There is nothing wrong with the troop medics or my room-”

“Four days.” Roman cut him off abruptly, the hand on Logan’s arm stilling for a moment. “You’ve been unconscious for four days.”

“I- what?!”

“You were so pale, Lo. You looked as if you almost didn’t have any blood left in you.” Roman continued on, tone growing distressed and his grip on Logan’s arm tightening. “You’d open your eyes for a moment and close then in the next, mumbling nonsense to yourself as you did, but you were never really awake, and sometimes you’d dream and keep trying to roll over and move even as me and Virgil held you down, and sometimes you’d whimper like you were hurting but there wasn’t anything I could do about it, and you did spasm a few times, and I thought you were going to die, Lo, I thought you were never going to really wake up again and I thought my last real memory of you was going to be you choking on your own blood as you tried to tell me you were alright and I thought-”

One of Logan’s hands shot forward then, grabbing Roman’s free hand and squeezing it hard, breaking up Roman’s train of thought and bringing his attention to Logan. He looked like a wreck, and he was sucking in breaths in a manner that suggested he was a few more spiraling thoughts from working himself into a panic attack.

“No words can properly express how sorry I am to have distressed you so greatly.” Logan said, trying to keep his voice steady and strong as he squeezed Roman’s hand again, keeping him grounded. “But I did not die. I’m right here, and I’m alive. You do not need to worry over that now.”

Roman squeezed back, raising their joined hands so that he could rest his forehead against them, taking in a deep breath. “I know. But I didn’t know that these past four days. If I didn’t give you the absolute best care, if I had taken any half-measures and then you died, I- I never would have been able to forgive myself.” He said, lifting his head so he could look at Logan, expression hurting and confused. “Why didn’t you tell me you had been injured?”

“You didn’t need to know.” Logan answered. “I was… I thought I was handling it.”

“You could’ve taken that healing potion.” Roman said, shaking his head. “Damnit, Logan, why didn’t you take that healing potion? You knew plenty well I didn’t need it, nor would I have minded if you had taken it, especially when you had a sword wound all the way through your chest!”

“You were the priority.” Logan responded, ignoring the renewed ache in his chest at the mention of his injury. “Your leg cut bore the risk of infection or worsening. You needed the potion.”

“I didn’t think I’d have to remind you of this, but you had a hole right through your chest!” Roman cried out, though his grasp on Logan’s hand remained gentle, his other hand having resumed running up and down Logan’s arm. “Anything that could have happened to my injury also could have happened to yours, and you had internal bleeding to deal with as well- I don’t care if I’m the priority, you needed that potion more than I did and we both know it.”

Logan shook his head, stopping when his headache flared at the motion. “It doesn’t matter. You were the priority. By default, you needed the potion more than I did.”

“The default shouldn’t matter when your life is on the line!”

“But it does!” Logan shouted back as well as he could despite his sore throat. “I’m a knight, Roman! My first and foremost duty is to protect the crown! It is my job to make sure you are okay above all else!”

“And you are my friend! If you had died, I wouldn’t be okay!” Roman yelled back, the fight rushing out of him as soon as he did. He squeezed his eyes shut, removing his hand from Logan’s arm to press against them even as he refused to let go of Logan’s hand.

Logan didn’t know what else to do but sit in silence, processing the prince’s response as Roman composed himself.

“I haven’t known what to do with myself since you collapsed.” Roman admitted shakily, a hand still over his closed eyes as he spoke. “I’ve either been in here, watching over you, or wandering the castle halls. Nothing could hold my attention. Nothing… nothing seemed important when at any moment I could suddenly be stuck in a world without you in it.”

“There are other knights.” Logan offered, but it was weak. He was well aware that wasn’t what Roman meant, but it was an easier version of things to face than the real one.

Roman opened his eyes then, moving his hand so that Logan could see the tears welling at the corner of his eyes even as the prince smiled painfully, running his free hand through Logan’s hair. “None of them are my knight.” He said in response, tone having gentled into something sweet and fond.

Silence stretched for a moment after that, Roman continuing to run his hand through Logan’s hair as Logan processed his words. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out what he meant- he had said it out loud, for De’veo’s sake- but the open emotions that came with them were… Logan wanted to say new, but they weren’t; they were familiar, as if he had always known them but only now had a name for them.

“If you could go back,” Roman started after a few minutes, looking at their clasped hands instead of directly at Logan, “would you do everything the same?”

Logan thought over his answer for a moment before he spoke. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“What would you change?”

“I would tell you I had been injured.” Logan said, looking at their joined hands now as well. “But only after you had taken the healing potion. I understand my mistake in refusing to allow anyone to help me, but… I am still a- I am still your knight. I will always prioritize your health over mine.”

“That’s what I thought you would say.” Roman said. “You would die for me if you had to, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course. I’m your knight, my prince; of course.” Logan answered automatically. It was the duty of every knight to die for the crown family if necessary. If it came between him or the prince, he would always take the hit.

Though Logan knew his answer would be the same even if Roman wasn’t the prince.

Roman nodded, more to himself than to Logan. “I can’t let you be a knight anymore, then. Not after this.”

“Are you going to discharge me from service, my prince?”

“Something like that.” Roman answered. Logan’s eyes left their joined hands to look at Roman, who seemed to be more occupied with combing through Logan’s hair. Logan swallowed.

“Are you going to have me executed, my prince?” Logan asked, feeling foolish even as he spoke but having to say it anyways. He knew it was a ridiculous thought, especially after everything Roman had said, but Logan wasn’t sure what else Roman could mean- unless he was going to have Logan imprisoned, but that was as good as a death sentence for former knights-

“Oh, Logan, no, my beloved knight, not that; never that.” Roman rushed to reassure, the hand that had been in Logan’s hair moving to cup his cheek instead. Instinctively, Logan turned into the soft, warm touch, his eyes closing of their own will before he blinked rapidly, refusing to fall asleep just yet.

Roman noticed, however, letting out a small sigh. “You’ve been up too long. You need to get more sleep.” He said quietly. Roman leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Logan’s forehead before pulling away. “I should let you rest…”

Logan tightened his hold on Roman’s hand as he tried to leave, stopping him. Though Logan was sure Roman wouldn’t have any trouble breaking out of his weak grasp, the prince stopped, settling back down on the edge of the bed and looking at Logan with mild confusion.

“What are you going to do with me?” Logan asked, well aware by now that he was being irrational in his worries but unable to dismiss them himself.

“Oh, Logan.” Roman soothed, free hand returning to Logan’s cheek, smiling comfortingly at him. “I’m making you a high scholar, that’s all. I’m not going to hurt you- I’d never hurt you, no matter how incredibly foolish you’ve been.”

Logan frowned. “High scholar… Roman, you know as well as I do that that’s a position of blood. You can’t make me a high scholar.”

“You can when you know the king and queen.” Roman joked, running his thumb over Logan’s cheek, his smile growing as Logan leaned more into his touch. “They’ve agreed to bend the rules for you as long as you can prove your intelligence, which I’m certain you’ll have no issue doing- though I will help you study while you’re recovering.”

“How did you get them to allow this?” Logan pressed. High scholar was a prestigious position, one kept within the blood families of nobles to ensure no ‘peasants’ ever got to hold it and therefore end up able to advise the rulers. Getting a (former) knight into such a position couldn’t have been easy.

“I convinced them through a blend of begging, persuasion, fact-stating, and simply existing.”

“Simply existing?”

Roman awkwardly laughed, looking away from Logan for a moment. “Like I said, not a great four days. I think my parents want that to happen again just as much as I do.”

“Again, Roman, I can never properly apologize for putting you through that.” Logan said, looking down at the bed. “I was aware that my actions would have adverse actions for me and my health, but I never considered- I never thought that you-”

“That I might get hurt too?” Roman offered, and Logan fell silent. A moment later, the hand cradling his cheek shifted to rest on his chin, lifting his head and forcing him to meet Roman’s eyes. Roman was smiling fondly again, looking at Logan with a type of love that was old but never tired. “Don’t worry, my dear knight. You’re forgiven.”

“Roman, I-”

“You were stupid, and you did a stupid thing, and you’re sorry. Don’t worry, I’ve got the basics.” Roman cut him off. “But due to my infinite wisdom as your most powerful and wonderful prince, I’m not going to let you do it again, and that’s what’s important here. Besides, I am never going to let you live this down, which I feel is punishment enough.”

Logan let out a little laugh, letting more of his weight rest against Roman’s hand as a small smile graced his face. “I’m certain it will be.”

“Hey, there it is.” Roman said softly, scooting a bit closer to Logan. “I’ve missed your smile, my dear knight.”

“You won’t be able to call me that much longer, you know.” Logan pointed out. “Apparently I won’t be a knight much longer.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Roman conceded, tilting his head. “My dear high scholar?”

Logan shook his head a bit, though he remained smiling. “Doesn’t flow very well, my prince.”

“No, no it doesn’t.” Roman agreed, his smile turning into a smirk as he moved even closer to Logan, once more cradling his cheek. “How about ‘my dear’ instead?”

“My dear.” Logan repeated, as if he were trying out the sound of it. He pressed against Roman’s hand, allowing himself to melt just slightly into the touch. “That sounds… nice.”

“Good.” Roman said, leaning forwards to kiss Logan’s cheek, prompting Logan’s cheeks to burn in a way he knew was unrelated to his injuries- though if asked later, he would claim it was mostly a side effect of his exhaustion. “Because I think it sounds nice, too… my dear.”

The following increased burn in his cheeks and giddy smile were also just side effects of his exhaustion.

“I’nago, you are beautiful.”

Logan blushed even harder. “Roman!”

“I couldn’t say that before.” Roman continued on, ignoring Logan as he grinned. “It’d be seen as favoritism, and the court politics- well, they won’t disappear with you as a high scholar but they’ll be better, and I can say that to you now.”

“That doesn’t mean you should!” Logan protested, though there was no force behind his words. The blush was an annoying consequence of Roman’s words, but Logan couldn’t bring himself to dislike the words themself.

“Sorry, my dear.” Roman said, not sounding very apologetic. “You almost get yourself killed, I get to point out the fact that you’re gorgeous.”

“Oh, you-” Logan began, moving to push himself upwards with his free hand, not sure what he was going to do once he was sitting but sure it was going to be great. His plans, however, were foiled by the stab of pain that went through his chest at the movement, his arm failing to support him as he fell back against the bed.

“Hey now, careful there, Lo.” Roman said as Logan squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ward off the black dots that had moved to swarm his vision. “There’ll be plenty of time to get back at me for all my charm later.”

Logan gritted his teeth together, trying to both block out the pain and remain conscious as he said, “You’re impossible.”

“Shh, love, bicker later.” Roman told him, tone softening as he raised their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of Logan’s. He placed Logan’s hand down afterwards, pulling the sheets up around him more, making it harder and harder for Logan to resist the call of sleep. “It’s time for you to rest, my dear.”

“Wait.” Logan said, fighting the urge to drift off as Roman tried to pull away, likely wanting to leave him in peace to rest. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

Roman paused in his retreat. “I- what?”

“I’m injured, not blind, my prince.” Logan said, opening his eyes enough that he could focus on Roman. “You said these past four days have been hectic and you have the bags underneath your eyes to prove it. Therefore: you haven’t been sleeping.”

“I have been… a bit.” Roman admitted slowly. “Worry isn’t very conducive to sleeping.”

“I’m okay now.” Logan reminded him, trying his best to smile reassuringly at the prince. “Please. Sleep.”

Roman returned Logan’s smile with a soft one of his own. “I will, okay? I just need to talk to Virgil about some things, and then I’ll find a guest room to crash in. I promise.”

Logan shook his head, biting his tongue to hold his awareness as he did so. “No. Sleep now. Here.”

Roman chuckled. “I think you’re more tired than you want to let on, my dear.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You have a habit of forgetting to do tasks you deem unimportant, a list upon which both self-care and sleep often fall. The chance that you will not go to bed after leaving this room is too high for me to risk, especially given you have spent the past four days running on what I can only assume to be the absolute minimum of sleep, if that. Conclusion: if I do not ensure you are sleeping, you will not sleep.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” Roman asked. “You’re bed-bound and going to pass out in a few minutes, whether you like it or not.”

Logan patted the bed beside him.

Roman raised an eyebrow. “What? You want me to sleep here? With you?”

“Your bed is more than big enough for two people, my prince, and if we’re together I’ll know if you get up and try to leave.” Logan explained, only managing to partially fight off a yawn as he spoke. “Please, Roman. I need to know you’re resting too. You’ve seen the stupid lengths I’ll go to- don’t make me add sleep-deprivation while I’m recuperating to the list.”

“I think Virgil’ll kill you if you try that.”

“Please recall why we’re in this situation in the first place.” Logan said. “Please Roman.”

Roman sighed, but the sound was fond as he came back to the edge of the bed and pulled up the sheets. “Worried about me even now?”

“You’re my prince.” Logan answered as Roman settled in behind him, wrapping his arms around Logan and nestling his head over Logan’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. Roman was warm, his hold protective but soft, and Logan couldn’t help but melt into it, because it was natural, natural as breathing for Logan to trust him and protect him and love him. “I’m always going to worry about you.”

“You’re not going to be a knight anymore, you know.” Roman reminded him, his breath warm against Logan’s neck, the feel of his chest moving as he spoke comforting. “It’s not your job to worry about me anymore.”

“Who ever said I was doing it for the job?” Logan responded, smiling as Roman laughed and pressed a kiss against the side of his head. “Tomorrow I could be prisoner, peasant, or king and I would still worry about you, my prince.”

“And no matter what I myself am tomorrow, you would care for me nonetheless, my dear.” Roman added, pulling Logan even closer against his chest, careful to not press too hard against his injury. “But to get to tomorrow, you must sleep.”

“Sleep with me?” Logan asked, even as his eyelids slipped shut and he relaxed against Roman completely, already falling asleep with or without Roman.

Luckily, Roman just chuckled softly, pressing one last kiss to Logan’s cheek before he once more rested his head against Logan’s shoulder. “Of course I will, my dear. Now rest, and we will face tomorrow together.”

Content in Roman’s arms, Logan finally allowed himself to drift off, sure in the fact that his prince would be alright- and that he would be too.

369 notes · View notes

dolphin-enthusiast · 4 years

Note

can i request some hcs for sc and the reader, who only joined them because "shit that dio dude sounds like a fucking bitch. i wanna beat the shit outta him". and after the investigation of speedwagon foundation on her it turns out that she actually has nowhere to go since her parents were killed by dio and she doesn't have any other relatives. while being confronted about this shit she tries to deny it but then gives up and tells the truth. (and maybe reader could be a s/o to crusaders, i dunno)

- In the case of Jotaro, the man would have already been expecting something like it already. Why, you may ask? Well for starters he thought it was just a little suspicious that you decided to just...join them out of nowhere in such a tumultuous journey all because you apparently had a strong dislike for Dio. Then again, no one can blame you for feeling like that anyway. That being said, the second Jotaro found out the truth about you all of his suspicions were instantly confirmed. But did he immediately confronted you about it or pressed you for information? Not at all. Quite the contrary, he waited for the perfect occasion to privately speak to you about this and only then did he put up a bit of a fight in order to hear the truth from your own lips. Upon finding out about what Dio did to your family, Jotaro would sigh then slowly (but tenderly) pull you into his arms whilst reassuring you that you’re safe now and that he’s going to avenge your parents for sure. And while he’s at it, you’re also invited to stay over to his place for as long as you want to. After all, you are the most important person in his life.

- Kakyoin would as well sense that something was off from the first second that you decided to fling yourself right into the middle of this clusterfuck of a journey. Sure he totally belives you when you say that you fucking hate that Dio bitch because so does everyone else, but to suddenly embark on such a dangerous trip solely because of that must take some serious balls. Nevertheless, Kak didn’t pressure you into opening up at all and his questions were always polite and cautious. He’s fully aware of how annoying nosey people can be. And yet when he was informed that you have lost your entire family because of Dio, he was extremely sad hence why he wasted no time and straight out asked you about it later on that day. He knew you were going to be reluctant to answer and so he had the patience of a saint throughout the entirety of time. When you DID open up though he listened to all of it with a look full of both sorrow and empathy, and yet he knew not to pity you either because that’s never a good thing to do. All that the man did was assure you that he’ll be by your side forever and that you two are going to kick Dio’s ass as soon as you meet him. On top of that, he also suggested that you come and live with him and his parents for a while after all of this is over.

- Polnareff on the other hand wouldn’t suspect a damn thing since he’s himbo central. A new vengeful member joined their gang in order to help them take down Dio??? Sweet, more power to the squad! He wouldn’t think of it as being THAT deep although he is aware that you must have your reasons for joining them nonetheless. This is exactly why the moment he finds out about your background it’s going to be like a damn punch to his gut, worse than any of Star Platinum’s punches. Alas he has a loud mouth so he’d instantly confront you about it and would INSIST that you tell him more. He may come across as persistent or nosey, but the truth is that he entirely understands how you feel. He would tell you all about the loss of his mother and sister in an attempt to get you to open up to him more, which would eventually make you give in and reluctantly pour your heart out at him. You two would basically bond over trauma at some point. The upside though is that Pol is amazing at making people feel better and he’d try cheering you up/reassuring you that it’s all going to be fine in no time. He’s going to literally puff out his chest and solemnly swear to you that he’ll personally take down Dio for what he did. Don’t worry for your “knight in shining armor” boyfriend has got your back at all times.

- Joseph would probably be the one that would find out first about all of this due to his connections with the Speedwagon Foundation. He’d order them to do a little digging inside your background just to make sure, and that’s when his slight suspicions would be confirmed. He knew you had to have some pretty fucking strong reasons behind such a bold decision, and yet he wouldn’t bring it up at all in the beginning. He’d wait for the perfect occasion to ask you more about it and would reluctantly tell you that he had found out about your family by using his men. Even if it hurts, you must know the truth since Joseph would hate to make you feel as if he betrayed your trust, or worse, hurt you. He knew you would deny everything and call him a liar, and so he was extremely patient and calmly explained everything to you over and over until you calmed down and eventually opened up to him. Joseph listened to each and every single detail you told him about the tragic event that determined you to join in the hunt for Dio. When you finally calmed down he wasted no time and cupped your face in his hands whilst letting you know that you’re safe now and that he’s going to protect and care for you for as long as he lives. Hell, the man even promised to get you a brand new place all for yourself after the journey is over! That is, if you don’t want to move in with him...

- Avdol has a damn good 6th sense so he wouldn’t be THAT surprised upon finding out the true reason behind your decision of joining the gang. Honestly, as sad and unfair what happened to you is, Avdol can’t help but admire your courage and determination. He’s fully aware of the dangers and risks that this journey has, and yet he feels lowkey proud of you for making such a bold but courageous move. That’s exactly why the man would keep an eye out for you at all times and would be doing his best to protect you while simultaneously trying not to come off as rough, nagging, or worse, nosey. But, as we all know, the truth always surfaces sooner or later, hence why one late evening Avdol decided that it was time to bring up the subject of your parents’ death. He knew you would get defensive, so he calmly explained to you that he has no ill intentions and that all that he wants is to keep you safe, therefore he wants you to be as honest as possible with him. The man does a superb job at making others relax and feel safe, therefore you’d find yourself trusting him and opening up in no time. Avdol would closely listen to your story then at the end would give you one of his good ol’ warm hugs as he’d let you know just how strong and competent you truly are. He wants you to know that he’ll always be there for you and that no one will ever hurt you anymore. He’ll make sure of it. Not to mention that you’re free to move in with him anytime you want, of course.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #stardust crusaders #jojo headcanons #headcanons #anon

40 notes · View notes

knightotoc · 4 years

Text

Higher Ground Blogging 7

- a.k.a. the prequels if they had a single ounce of hope

HGB 1 (eps 1-3), 2 (4), 3 (5-7), 4 (8-9), 5 (10), 6 (11-13)

Last time on HGB: The good: SHELBY!!!; Anakin jealously chopping wood; Anakin anxiously knocking over chess pieces; Anakin getting called “alpha male”/“the all-American boy”/“an emotional crashsite”; the ending of episode 4; “sorry i’m late, dude, ah, I had to lay off a couple thousand employees” The bad: the music; the slo-mo; the indigenous-remains and fertility-game subplots; the grownups’ stupid will-they-won’t-they; the quality of these youtube videos The disappointing: a CGI bear tried to kill Peter-bi-Wan and didn’t even get one hit on him; the horse seems to have vanished; sometimes Hayden mumbles :( and the others do too but I don’t care as much

ep 14: - THE AMERICANS ARE BACK AND THEY’RE WORSE THAN EVER!!!!! - “yeah it’s amazing how everybody just wants to protect me” scott😭😭😭😭 - i think scott’s shirt is bulky enough to qualify as a poncho - is the music...........good???!!!?!?!?!? - omg juliette gave her bacon to auggie so shelby gave hers to scott😭😭😭 - omg shelby tried to lie to protect scott’s pride and he DID NOT LIKE THAT - this has the most serious a-plot vs silliest b-plot so far, but at least the b-plot is funny - scott sulking in a freezing room so you can see his breath when he cries... hiding his sobs with his shivers..... in a massive dark flannel.... with that jedi temple slats-lighting....... damn he is never not on point! - american: how you like that! *claps in scott’s face* / scott: *grabs his collar and shakes him* NOT NOW, MAN.

unimpressed canadians

new pfp???

daisy: so does anybody play the piano? SCOTT? me: um WHAT all the kids: woooo yeahh👏👏👏👏 scott: pfff pshhh nahhhh me: UM WHAT!!!!???? scott: *shrugging and hiding* kids: come onnn wooo scotttt scott and shelby: *sit on piano bench together and play piano* me: DARTH VADER PLAY PIANO

DARTH VADER PLAYS PIANO NOT CLICKBAIT!!!!!!

🚨HAYDEN AND SHELBY HANDS ON A PIANO!!!!!🚨🚨

ep 15: - omg evil journalists??! is this SPICE WORLD??? - someone just said “sorry” all accented yessss - shelby just called peter-bi-wan “my captain” yes queen got im

scott: i dunno what i did to make her [shelby] so mad :( daisy: did it ever cross your mind that maybe it isn’t about you? scott: *probably the stupidest expression ever made by a member of the human race*

- anakin in a jacket is such a good look that is absolutely nowhere to be found in the entire star wars franchise. absolutely forbidden. - scott believes in peter-bi-wan so much more than i do. it’s really endearing - peter-bi-wan made up a drug called “jojo” to trick the journalist, that is not how you make a jojo reference my dude but i still appreciate the effort - i did not expect a sarah palin flashback today - ohhhhhhhhh scotttttt YOU FUCKED UP oh no ohhh NOO!!! - the hugs are off the CHAIN in this ep. but guess who walks dramatically away from the group hug (it’s scott) - “he catches touchdowns and he goes out with cheerleaders and he thinks that’s the world” omg shelby you don’t mean that💔😢 - “those sweet eyes” hrnghrhgnrhgrnghngh - oh wow this ending. incredible. fantastic!!!! - when girls say “you remind me of my old friend” to each other that’s the shit that gets me good ahhhhh sally bowles who?

ep 16: - the thumbnail on this one is a creepy doll. that is the opposite of scenic! - scott and shelby do the dishes together more than any onscreen couple i know - “well when you do figure it out, when you slither back in, let me know” -- shelby dragging scott down into hell as he deserves oh my god you guys my otp does not go well - "butt out, morticia, it’s none of your business” -- scott to daisy the goth who hates him rn - peter-bi-wan’s dad trying to make him join the family business exactly like dooku trying to get obi-wan to join the capitalists in AotC - awww another really canadian “sorry” - ohhhh the gay vibes are vibing - okay so all the kids are on solitary meditation tasks but guess who is breaking the rules to hang out with his (ex?)girlfriend (it’s scott) - peter-bi-wan: “i’ll beat the storm” HELL YEAH JEDI KNIGHT - omg SHELBY IS LOST IN THE STORM??!?!?! - DAISY VS SCOTT OVER SHELBY IS AMAZING!!!!!!!!!! - okay this doctor is, for no good reason, a very sexy ice queen - “i don’t have to do anything for you. and besides, you’re beyond help” -- daisy strongly disagrees with the ending of revenge of the sith - “jock-o” yas another for the pile - GUESS WHO IS GOING OUT INTO THE STORM TO LOOK FOR SHELBY

what a completely unexpected twist! i do dig it tho for real holy shit oh my god - this is the second time scott’s girlfriend has been lost in the wilderness in this show, it is simply the perfect story

FOREHEAD KISSES?!? just slay me in twain hrrrkk - they played piano AND had forehead kisses in the rain

shelby’s himbo boyfriend and witch girlfriend - daisy: maybe you’re not totally useless after all - scott: maybe you’re not either - ot3 confirmed

i seriously cannot with these two right now, pass the fucking smelling salts HES ALL TUCKED IN!!! ARE YOU SEEING THIS

#higher ground blogging #higher ground #hayden christensen #darth vader plays piano #forehead kisses in the rain #bacon is a symbol of love

9 notes · View notes

tessadoesstuff · 4 years

Text

Fueled By Spite - Chapter 2

Before we begin: Hi! I see a lot of people reading here aren't in my usual crowd. Welcome! For context which becomes important, this is a SOFT WARS fic. That means it takes place in the Soft Wars AU. One of the main features of this AU is that Anakin learns how to have healthy adult conversations (HAC) and talk about his issues. As such, this fic features an Anakin who got his shit together. He and Padme are adorable in this AU together, best described as "Smart but absent-minded Senator and her oblivious yet creative Himbo Husband."

Chapter 1

Summary: Anakin and his Family meet Kylo. They are unimpressed.

“What.” Anakin grinds out.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Master Obi-Wan adds. Padme just buries her face in her hands with a groan. Ahsoka watches and barely resists the urge to burst out cackling.

“We ran the DNA tests on our two visitors. The darksider, at least, has DNA that matches with Knight Skywalker and Senator Amidala in a way that almost certainly confirms them as his grandparents.” The healer padawan repeats again, sounding both bored and like he would rather be having any other conversation with anyone else, anywhere else.

“How likely is it that this is all a big mistake?” Padme asks in what Ahsoka recognizes as her I-have-to-ask tone of voice, with hints of disbelief around her in the force.

“How likely is the Naboo Sky Purple, Senator?” The padawan snipes back, gathering up their things and heading out already.

“Great, just what the galaxy needs, more Skywalkers.” Rex drones from next to Ahsoka, and that’s what does her in, sending her into a fit of laughter. Rex nudges her with his elbow, but the rest of the Ahsoka’s family ignore her cackles. It’s very rude of them.

“So, I guess we have to go meet our grandson then,” Padme says like she can’t believe those words just came out of her mouth.

“Or you could not.” Master Obi-Wan offers. As he is the only one of them who had actually met the latest Skywalker, Ahsoka thinks that is a very effective statement about what this man is like. Anakin frowns in response.

“He’s family, we should at least give him a chance.” Ahsoka’s master responds, and Padme nods.

“By all means go ahead.” Master Obi-Wan gestures with a hand. “But be warned, he considers himself a Sith.”

“What.” Anakin does a doubletake at the door to the room, stopping before he enters the room where his grandson-from-the-future is. Ahsoka had gotten her laughter under control, but it rips loose again at the expression on his face.

“Master Ti wasn’t able to get all that much out of him, but he was quite proud to proclaim himself Sith Lord Kylo Ren, despite his partner’s assurance that he still serves a master and the way the force makes it clear he is a darksider, not a true Sith.” Master Kenobi offers, gesturing with a hand the way he often does when deep in thought. “Also, he considers himself the future savior of the universe from the oppression of the blind, cruel Jedi, and what he calls the new republic.” Padme buried her hands in her face again. Rex twitched beside Ahsoka.

“He thinks what about the Jedi?” Rex growls out, his voice tight with the controlled rage Ahsoka can feel pouring off of him in the force. There’s a protectiveness to him in the force too which leaves something warm and fuzzy inside of Ahsoka. It feels like family.

“Was Master Ti able to get anything else?” Padme asks hopefully. Master Obi-Wan shrugged.

“They’ve been fairly close-lipped, although from what we have been able to figure out through cryptic comments and the archives, they come from an alternate timeline where events unfolded differently, and… poorly.” Master Obi-Wan says, and every muscle in his body is taunt now. Padme raises an eyebrow at him, and the redhead sighs, and continues, looking like every word hurts him. “He claims to be the grandson of a Sith Lord named Darth Vader. And- Anakin,” Master Obi-Wan pauses, then reaches out to put a hand on Anakin’s shoulder before continuing. “He implied Vader was you.”

“General Skywalker would never!” Rex explodes first, the careful leash he had kept on his anger thus far exploding outwards.

“We know that Rex. Besides, further looks into time travel revealed that it’s not actually possible to travel to your direct past or future, despite what our guests believe. Instead, the theories state you find yourself in an alternate timeline.”

“Apparently, he came from a Bad Timeline.” Ahsoka grins. She knows she should probably be more worried, but she trusts her master with anything. Whatever the other him did, she knows he won’t do.

“Yay.” Padme chimes in.

“Also, his partner’s name is Hux. Master Ti think they’re both pricks.” Master Obi-Wan adds like an afterthought. Ahsoka snorts.

“Well then, shall we?” Padme says, crossing the hallway and opening the door before anyone can respond, and walking into the room where Kylo Ren and Hux have been staying.

“Once more into the breach,” Rex mutters to Ahsoka, and she cackles in response.

When she walks into the room, the first thing she notices is the cloud of darkside anger-rage-hatred hanging across the main room. It feels wrong – the apartment is laid out the same as the space she shares with Anakin, and the main room in their apartment is always full of love and acceptance. The second thing she notices is the way Ren is lying on his back across the tea table without a shirt on. Various pieces of his clothing are strewn across the room carelessly. There’s a boot on the counter in the kitchenette next to Rex. His companion is nowhere to be seen, but the door to one of the bedrooms is closed and Ahsoka can feel a slimy presence.

“Another visit from an exalted Jedi master? Are you ready to do what needs to be done yet?” The darksider whines. Ahsoka grits her teeth. Master Obi-Wan visibly does not sigh. It is likely a near thing.

“Hello there, Kylo.” Master Obi-Wan says, and Ahsoka follows her grandmaster’s eyes to see all of the lightsaber marks which have been carved, seemingly randomly, onto the walls, and the floor, and the table. That’s when Ahsoka makes her third observation. Everything not bolted down in the room has been thrown away from where Kylo is sitting, an exaggerated version of what happens when Anakin gets to emotion and causes things to float.

“Please, put on a shirt,” Padme says, picking a shirt up off of the ground, and offering it to her grandson-from-the-future. He scoffs and bats her hand away with the force.

“Great, another corrupt mouthpiece of the broken institution that allows chaos to reign and brings about death and destruction. You’re not wanted here.” He rages back at Padme, and the force physically pushes her away from him in a single sharp movement. It’s a deliberately cruel use of it, and it makes Ahsoka’s spine crawl.

“Do not speak about your grandmother that way!” Anakin shouts back at the shirtless man, catching Padme as she trips and pulling her to her feet. Kylo scoffs, then he pauses.

“Grandfather?” Kylo asks, finally looking at Anakin. “Grandfather, you’re here. I’m here to help you, to finish what you started!” Anakin raises a single unimpressed eyebrow at Kylo in response, most of his focus on helping Padme fix her complicated hairdo.

Ahsoka wishes she had thought to bring snacks.

#anti-kylo #anti-hux #star wars #soft wars #pro jedi #Tessa's fanfic #Tessa's Soft Wars

8 notes · View notes

fresiak · 4 years

Text

Hollow Knight: The Eternal Ordeal - Character Ranking

getting 57 kills in Hollow Knight’s The Eternal Ordeal was quite the fun challenge. battling against all of these Zote variations made me wanna rank all of the characters appearing in the battle, so here’s my ranking from best to worst

(Sorry for the long post)

Hopping Zote 9/10

This is the ideal Zote body. You might not like it, but this is what peak performance looks like. Only downside is that he gets stuck in the corners sometimes. but I’ve heard Himbo’s are getting popular atm

Second Place goes to a rather shy contender

taking screenshots proved to be a hard task, as he was hiding most of the times. But there’s really no need for that. Even in winter he got that beach body ready making some big waves wherever he appears, just look at him

The Head of Zote 8/10

“Then why the long face?”, you might ask. He’s probably pissed, because he sometimes gets attacked before even making his appearance

understandably his ego shatters at times like these. Bailing out after his appearance proves to be quite difficult as well, as there’s always someone flaming -.- poor fellow

you’re still having self esteem issues? worry not, our next contender might help you with that. if you look at yourself and only see a wobbly mass of an organism, check this out:

you can shine!!

The third place goes to....

The Knight 8/10

he also seems to have some self esteem issues sometimes. why would he be rocking the newest Zote Vuitton bag in battle seems impractical to me

Nevertheless he shines in different colors

He’s the hero we deserve

The next place goes to....

Zote’s Curse 7/10

while this cheerful fellow’s pretty dangerous to my runs, I just love that there’s a character, which is the opposite of Salubra’s blessing, in the game. their voice reminds me of Dr Zoidberg, which is a plus. in the end they’re still a pain in the ass, which should explain the point deduction

Next contender is...

Lanky Zote 5/10

It seems the Weird Mushroom from Mario Maker also grow in the Fungal Wastes. If he’s not flailing his hands around he likes to do some sick summersaults

he doesn’t look too happy, though. maybe it’s because there’s always someone blocking his path

while you look fabulous, Head of Zote, leave this chap some space, please.

Quite popular, but not making as big of a wave as the previous contenders is...

The Heavy Zoteling 5/10

why I like him? because he cares a lot for others

“Don’t talk to me or my son ever again”

he’s having lots of fun jumping around with his brethren

there are also some rumors that he’s in a relationship with the Hopping Zoteling. Haven’t confirmed this yet, but they do hang around quite a lot

there’s also lots of physical contact going on

the Turret Zoteling seems to be kinda done with their antics. I heard him mumble “not this shit again”.

In the end, whether they’re friends or lovers is up to them to tell us.

all in all the Heavy Zoteling is a great guy to hang out with

I don’t think our next contender’s placement need any further explanation.

The Volatile Zoteling 3/10

is just the bomb!

he seems a little disappointed with his low placement, but his screentime is just to short to give him a better ranking. flashy as he might be, he should stay a little longer next time.

The next spot in the ranking goes to a rather disappointing candidate

The Fluke Zoteling 0/10

while he might try his best he rarely spawns anywhere near you and running into this sorry drop of goo he leaves behind also happens really rarely.

Nothing to write home about.

Next on the list are The Zotelings, which is actually just Zote spawning millions of times, but I consider only the first Zote triggering the ordeal as the real Zote, so I call these mobs...

The Zotelings -1/10

there are three base states they are in:

Fighting, jumping and dying. Nothing to write home about

“why the minus one then???”

well, first of all because the bounce of walls, which is annoying.....

“hey but other enemies do that as well!!!” ....and secondly, they are rude to their comrades

look at this asshole ordering the Heavy Zoteling around. doesn’t look respectful to me.

Next asshole on the list is...

The Turret Zoteling -6/10

this chap long boi here gets a lot of hate sniping you while you’re trying to heal yourself, but you can just dodge his bullets, come on

EAAAAASY!! getting hit by the Heavy Zoteling afterwards doesn’t matter, I dodged the Turret’s shot. jk, he’s still a pain in the ass

While he doesn’t shoot any projectiles the Primal Aspid of this fight is

The Winged Zoteling -9/10

damn I hate him

...and the first place for the worst enemy of The Eternal Ordeal goes to.....

Zote The Mighty -10/10 (for lore reasons)

do I really have to explain this?

so here we have it, my personal ranking of all the characters involved in The Eternal Ordeal, but wait...

The Head of Zote slides into this post once more. I still have some pictures left

#hollow knight #zote the mighty #character ranking #video games #team cherry

13 notes · View notes

ghosty-schnibibit · 4 years

Text

first new taz liveblog in a month, and also first taz liveblog of the new year, woohoo! ^u^

after i’m done with this episode i’m going to go back and relisten to everything, i know we’re only five episodes into this season but it feels like it’s been a million years and i need to refresh myself on the rules of this world

jesus it has been so long since the last ep i forgot most of what happened, i have never needed the "previously on" more than i do now

oh we were rolling initiative! okay nice, love starting off eps with a fight

wait how is this spelled??? i thought it was just xorn :?

do not change it griffin, this sounds absolutely fantastic

jesus they all beefed it

wait how much plus to initiative does argo get? jesus

i missed fitzroy's voice holy shit

cool! i forgot my favorite boy bought a cool sword

yay! go argo! first hit of the fight :D

damn that is such a fun descriptor

you don't have to be mean to this sweet boy fitz

oh right! this is the cool table thingy he shared

maybe ya shouldn't have gone for the nearly already dead one :/

... is that a real spell? i think that's a pokemon move???

jesus firbolg, goddamn

JESUS CHRIST FIRBOLG

what about the other ones that died, did they burst too?

go argo :D

they're a bunch of scaredy babies

aww, i like combat encounters juice :(

is clint talking as clint right now bc that is absolutely not argo's voice

well that sure was a noise :|

oooooh i love this music holy shit

pretty rocks :000

he's a night light boy! a magic detecting night light boy!

damn clint is killing it with his rolls today

wait what??? oh no, is this a thrall???

i am so intrigued by this, i have no idea what's happening but i am excited by the possibility of what it might mean

i did too rainier, i did too

"one's a souvenir, two is kleptomania" ilu argo

leon i am so suspicious

fitzroy me sweet dumb baby

so _ _ T T _ _ _ _ _ E ... hmmm

more confirmation that fitzroy is a himbo lol

oh good clint remembered to do argo's voice lol

i don't think that's how it works?

rainier my sweet baby ilu

i love you firbolg friend

B U T T E R M I N E

oh cool! so they have a way of knowing how close they were! this is a good puzzle trav

so now we're working with B _ T T _ _ _ I N E

i want to go to butter mine now

clint that that scared the shit out of me

bottom line!!! go argo :D

oh fun griffin's back for the ads for the ep

i saw a pic of their new baby on twitter, she's so cute ^u^

i desperately need me some of that twenty-funny merch

oh fun! new dice B)

fitz is just a permanent nightlight lol

WAIT... HE'S A KNIGHT LIGHT

... glew??? travis my boy that’s not how past tense works

fitz my precious fucking dork baby

i think it has hands from the art i saw when googling it last ep

the grand arc of taz is just clint getting better and better at rolling until he reaches beyond even magnus in terms of sheer stat boosts

"yes. it speaks common." pfff

so is it incorporeal? or are the walls incorporeal? hmm...

aww fitzroy, my sweet dumb boy

FITZROY 👏 IS 👏 A 👏 HIMBO

bye bye souvenirs lol

... so the xorn didn't know what was going on? aww poor guy :(

fitzroy he does not have to say it you are handing him a physical subpoena my dipshit boy, just give the new xorn buddy the rock

i know i'm meant to be picturing a xorn but my brain is just playing the goron city music on repeat

"i'm not really sure how planar travel works" the irony of this line coming from griffin's character is sending me

so did he get sent to the prime material plane against his will?

i cannot wait to see art of those photos lol

nice, good roll for fitz!

oh shit, how the hell did that get there

can he climb up to it? oh well apparently not lol

"hey google? size of xorn"

xorn is a beef boy

gotta get bud to the move reminder lol

"say you're doing something and then let travis tell you no" pfff

NICE, go clint :D

bye xorn buddy!

we've solved the xorn puzzle :D

fun times, fun times

oh yeah we get to have this scene

is this the music from the scene in episode one? with the thing that was in the dark spooky woods?

that's a good deception check for one word

aww leon :’(

i am so worried for everyone now, holy shit

back to the goofs lmao

yay! first assignment done, back to school

first new taz ep of the new year! that was super fun! i’m both excited to see where the new threads are going vis a vis the rift and nervous given the little scene with leon at the end there

see you guys whenever the next ep comes out ^u^

#taz #taz graduation #taz spoilers #the adventure zone #ghosty liveblogs taz

10 notes · View notes

ardenttheories · 4 years

Text

Pesterquest Volume 7 notes, all locked under the cut as usual. As a side note, I once a fucking gain didn’t get my achievement for completing the Route, this time Terezi’s, so. Fuck me, I guess.

EQUIUS

Reader’s remembering more without truly remembering it now. The trees, garden, caves, and mall were some of the “most recent” places they’ve been to in Friendsim.

Oh. Reader’s home is the shitty little crumbling building they stayed in during the events of Friendsim. I don’t know what’s sadder; that they still don’t know who they are enough to know where home is, or that everything they know about themself is centred around Friendsim - the events of which they still don’t remember.

The bitterness they feel at that is sad. They really don’t have a home outside of that, huh?

“You freeze like an anime protagonist” - hm. HM. I don’t trust like that.

Equius freaking out at the sight of Reader and actively trying to NOT punch them is sweet. Also, funny as hell.

Oh. That’s. That’s a lot more horse than I was expecting.

AURTHOUR. MY GOD YOU LOOK A LOT BETTER LIKE THIS. Although, nice hint to the theory that Reader is a lusus-like being, with the Reader comparing themself to Aurthour.

Did Equius just fucking growl? This poor fucking idiot doesn’t know how to react to Reader’s non-apparent bloodcaste. You fucking himbo just relax.

Of course they made the fucking “there are two wolves inside you” meme about horses and Equius wanting to get yelled at/yell at

How to befriend Equius: like milk and horses, because apparently that makes you High Status, and not just a very lonely idiot who’s so stuck up his own ass about the Hemospectrum that he can’t see the people around him through the bullshit.

Equius has a lot of gamer shit? Interesting.

Two points:

Reader’s typing style is so fucking cute, and this is the first time I think we’ve seen them type proper. This seems significant. Like, they’ve got a voice now, and it’s distinctive and them and not us. Looks like they might be taking control a little?

Additionally, we just got to see Karkat’s Knight of Blood powers at work; essentially enforcing that Equius befriend Reader and complete the Bonds that they’re trying to desperately to set up, while also allowing Equius someone to be “real” with by stating that Reader exists outside of the Hemospectrum. It’s also just really sweet to see Karkat talking about Reader like that.

Equius really just. Doesn’t know how social interactions work. I think he relies on the Hemospectrum to explain shit for him, because he seems genuinely uncomfortable with the idea that there’s no formula to follow. Especially since he’s giving that power to Reader - that says a lot about how out of his depth he is. Even the dumbass little “I command it” is funny. He’s so out of his depth and he’s trying to pretend that he knows what he’s doing still.

Equius doesn’t have it in him to actually kill people, which is genuinely sweet but also says a lot about why he’s so conflicted with the Hemospectrum. He’s really not cut out to be a Highblood the way it says he should be.

Oh. Oh my god, he’s so excited to see Nepeta. He was shaking with excitement at the prospect of being able to see her.

OH NO HE COULDN’T GO. But how interesting. “Stop trying to skip ahead”. So why did that work with Gamzee (albeit Karkat then chickened out)? Because we never actually saw Gamzee, and it’d probably work with Nepeta?

The text wasn’t coloured but I’m curious if this is Dirk now. Doc Scratch sure as fuck doesn’t swear like that, and as far as I’m aware he’s the only one with narrative control within the main canon/fanon, besides Alternate Calliope. The fact that the thing is trying to keep everything to a strict plot would definitely suggest it. Though if Dirk is T-Posing in a hallway on the Theseus just to talk to Reader, I’m going to flip off the handle.

Equius knowing what narrative control is just threw me through a fucking loop, but I’ll play along. Lets pretend that actually makes some sort of sense, because either he figured it out in that short moment without even knowing what Retconning is or why they were being blocked, or he just. Knows. Which, I suppose as an Heir of Void he might? He inherits Secrets and the Unknown - so maybe him knowing isn’t so odd at all.

Confirmation that Equius doesn’t know how to act outside of a society and is, in fact, very uncomfortable with not knowing but envies how the Reader is just somehow capable of that: confirmed. “How do you know where you belong, or if you belong.”

That’s. Some good advice from Reader, honestly, but also sad? They’re defining themself through their relationships again. I hope this means they’re figuring more out about themself this time. Also that this helps Equius - to figure out that he can define himself and not allow other shit he doesn’t really vibe with define him. Especially if he makes his own community.

Oh. Equius tries to hone his strength in order to figure out why he’s a biological freak. “Reigning in an aberrant traint and defining” himself by it. And he doesn’t know which rules he likes following and which he doesn’t know how to ignore - he’s just as lost about himself as he is about everything else.

“He looks like he might be about to tell you the story, but somehow you keep not learning the lesson where you should just chill and experience something instead of leap to try to figure it out before it happens” - is it just me, or does this narrator not sound like any of the others. Usually they sound like “Reader”, or like Hussie in the comic, or sometimes like the characters, but this... doesn’t. This is that narrative figure admonishing Reader for the previous timeline. Which is a little more interconnected than the last ones have been, and a whole lot more obvious.

“It’s like there’s narrative precedent for this moment existing in more than one plane of truth”. I actively love how that shows A) that there’s multiple timeline-based reasons for the loss of Equius’ horn and B) that trying to view a Void Player’s past isn’t easy because they’re just that naturally hidden.

TEREZI

Oh my god. Terezi that’s so fucking extra.

I’m assuming that means she’s talking to Vriska? She’s seriously mad. Madder than in the comic. I like the fact that we get to see more of her emotions during this whole phase now that there’s no plot to hinder.

Reader pointing out that the Alternian legal system is brutal in a way that’s just completely fucked up and also not typical of how Terezi seems to be as a person, but also highlighting that she doesn’t seem to see that there’s an issue with the system because of its laws and logistics she knows to a T that perfectly align with what Mind is? HELLA. That’s what a Seer do, babey! She learns her Mind from the law, THAT’S her Benefactor, and then she figures it out for herself!

Terezi being confused about the game, expecting him to ask about team leaders and shit, shows that - potentially - Reader’s actions have irrevocably fucked up her powers as a Seer of Mind. Or at least that she’s not looking at the right Options anymore, because she doesn’t know what they are.

(Also, Karkat not shutting up about Dave? Valid.)

TEREZI KNOWS THE HYPOCRACY AND IS JUST DOING THE SAME THING AS TYZIAS I’M GOING TO DIE. She can’t save everyone but at least she can save them for now, until she gets to a point where she can save everyone.

So that weird ass area is “an ambiguous nexus of metaphysical realities”. Definitely a place that doesn’t really exist yet sort of does. Interesting that they haven’t been thrown out yet, though. Maybe because Reader wasn’t really trying to go anywhere? They just remembered, and aimlessly used their powers.

Gamzee called Reader a “themster” and I am wheezing.

Terezi realising she blamed Vriska for shit they did together when she knew it was something their fucked up society made them do, and realising she’s not exactly innocent herself, is really fucking sad. Kids shouldn’t have to go through this sort of shit.

The thing watching them is approving of Reader taking Terezi back to Vriska? I’m wondering if it’s either happy because they’re continuing the plot, or because they’re fixing things. That hulking T-posing figure isn’t there anymore - and it seems a lot more demure. So maybe this entity is something else?

Oh, Terezi admitting she had fun hurting other people and getting upset over it is sad. Shows a lot about how screwed up Alternia is that they make murder fun for kids until it’s just completely normal for them to do.

Best way to explain a Seer of Mind: behind the person everyone calls the Leader, controlling the spotlight.

Oh FUCK yes. Vriska and Terezi are Scourge Sisters again, but this time against the people who really goddamn deserve it. I think this was cathartic for both of them. The blame they’ve been placing on themselves isn’t entirely gone, but it is a little better, and they’ve got no reason to go killing innocent trolls anymore against their own desires.

Hints towards VrisRezi are also back, and I think they both really needed that. They don’t have to be rivals, as fun and as tale-told as it’d be. They can work together and be themselves and go against the shit they’ve been told is normal and that they’ve been justifying their whole lives. And these girls are gonna be healthier and happier for it!!

Not as much external plot in this one, but I get the feeling that Nexus is going to be showing up a lot more and becoming much more important. Interesting, too, that there’s (I think) two entities out there; one trying to stop Reader from skipping ahead, and one that was just watching to see what’d happen. That, or it’s the same entity - but I get the feeling one wants to stop Reader while the other wants Reader to progress in their own way?

On top of that, I really don’t know how to feel about how much of this narrative felt Dirk-esque. I might be paranoid, since a friend of mine pointed out that Friendsim led up to the Epilogues/Hiveswap and onward into Pesterquest, so Pesterquest must be leading into something, too. She thinks it’s Homestuck^2, and I kind of hope so, because if we get ANOTHER game after this I might die... but I wouldn’t be surprised, either.

#pesterquest spoilers #long post//#ardenttheories #ardent liveblogs

7 notes · View notes