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#they go well with the knights from last years white day event
killjoy-prince · 1 year
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In a shocking turn of events, Rui actually came home almost immediately! Only had to pull 20 times for him. Toya, on the other hand, didn't come home until 230 pulls, and with Kaito, I had to drag him home kicking and screaming
And while i was trying to pull for Toya and Kaito, Rui came home 3 more times, which made me lose my mind (in case you dont know my track record with getting his cards, I always have to spark him bc my acct is allergic to him so getting him 4 times was wild to me)
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flightsoffandom · 2 years
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Hi I was wondering could you do one for the moon boys.
Fem reader is from another universe as spider woman. The comic verse in which a war started by Ultron (what if) had nearly wiped out the entire planet. She and the Moon Knight from her planet were lovers. She learned the ancient magic from Stephen and the books, she isnt as strong but she still trains. The war lasted years, what devasted her was when Moon Knight was taken and tortured alive due to his regenerative abilities that Konshu gave Marc peace after being stuck for years. In the end asked to be his Avatar until the end.
When the war ended because the watcher helped, he had sent her to this universe (MCU) where she had to learn to live again.
It was Jake Lockley who first helped her under the order of the Moon God. Before he began to help her on his own accord. She was traumatized. It isn't until a year later does she begin to be a hero again helping Jake and being Spider Woman again.
As time passed she meets Marc after he had left his wife and they had become close friends. She confided in him the horrors of her past, often she felt like an intruder. Often shed mention the differences in their worlds.
After the death of their mother did she accidentally meet Steven. Not wanting to lie she told him the truth of her identity and other universe saying they were friends in her world before it was destroyed. She was open about holding more secrets she wasn't aloud to tell. She fell in love all over again. He wasn't her Moon Knight, he was his own being a quirky one at that.
After the events of the egyptian ammit, (Y/N) confess her feelings as she will be going to New York to help Peter Parker with his loneliness.
Wether or not they end up together or not is up to you. (Also, the (y/n) from this world had died the night she was supposed to get her powers.)
(Y/N) is a tiny bit jealous of the badass that is Layla. The things she heard about her from him wow. That and she feels like an outsider.
First of all, thank you anon for sending this to me. I was so excited when I saw it. This is my first ever request so I really hope you like it. It will be in multiple parts (6 or 7 perhaps?) I actually finished writing this the day after you sent the request, but I wanted to write some more and then edit it before I put it out. I am really excited about this because it is like putting a puzzle together and I fucking love puzzles. Please, please let me know how you like it. Thank you. <3
Life As You Knew It
Pairs: Marc Spector x Fem!Reader, Steven Grant x Fem!Reader, Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader,
Words: 5667
Summary: Being Spider-Woman was fun. Then you ran into a white-clad superhero and then your life changed.
Warnings: Mentions of blood, dying, main character death (But multiverse so), angst? trauma. POV switches all over the place because I think it helps tell the story. Sexual references but no smut. Not an accurate representation of DID, basing it off the show's depiction.
Notes: Female reader, as per Anon's request, Spider-Woman!Reader. This chapter takes place in the 'What If' Ultron Won verse. Other Chapters will take place in the MCU. As per warnings, POV switches all over the place. Hopefully, they aren't too confusing. Things shown like this ‘Words. Word word.’ are meant to be the boys talking to each other internally.
Life As You Know It - Part 1* - Part 2 - Part 3  - Part 4 - Part 5
You had met Marc by accident, well technically you met Moon Knight by accident. You had been swinging while doing some patrols when you came across a guy in a bright white cape beating the shit out of people. Not in your city. So you dropped, kicking the caped man in the back. The man was pushed forward, and he growled at you. When the caped man spun around, he went to punch you and you sighed, shooting a web at him quickly to attach him to the wall, "Did anyone ever tell you it's not nice to hit a girl?" The man hissed and fought against the webs, so you just shot another one at him to secure him in place.
You bent down and looked at the beaten man on the ground. Even though their faces were horribly disfigured, you recognize them by a tattoo on their necks. Part of a New York gang, and not one of the nicer ones. One of the gangs that did some really fucked up shit. So you webbed them to the ground just in case they had enough energy to run. You look at the man you webbed to the wall who is still struggling in your web. You finally got a better look at his costume. Mostly white, reflective, with crescent moons scattered over it. You tilt your head, "Not very sneaky to be wearing all white. Should go for something like this." You motioned down to your outfit, various shades of purple with a hint of pink and blue. You had based it on the Brazilian pinkbloom tarantula. 
The man fought and growled, "I didn't pick the armor." You hum softly, "You have an outfit designer or something? Are you famous? Should I know you?" The man's white glowing eyes looked at you, "You talk too much." You huff and cross your arms, "Wow. Rude. Well, then it takes five hours for my webs to stop working. So if you're gonna be like that, I will just call the police to pick up these idiots and you can sort it out yourself." The man froze, "Five hours?" You nod very matter-of-factly. He sighs, exhausted and annoyed, "I am Moon Knight." You nod slowly, "That's not bad, I'm just Spider-Woman… Pretty on the nose, right?" You touch your masked nose and laugh. And you swear you saw his completely white eyes roll. You move over to Moon Knight and start removing the webs with your fingers. He watches you, "How did you do that?" You chuckle, "Spiders don't stick to their webs." You ball up the webs and throw them into a nearby trash can, making it in without looking. 
Moon Knight watches you and then you get a call in from your earpiece, a suspected break-in a few blocks away. You turn your back towards the man. He takes this chance to try to hit you. Your spider-sense warns you, though, so you whip around and grab his balled-up fist, stopping it right in place. You glare at him as Moon Knight looks at you in shock. You shake your hand, "I tried to be nice." You grasp his fist tighter and then easily flip him over your head, slamming him back onto the ground. You hear him audibly groan. Your earpiece notifies you again and you hiss, "Shit." You leave Moon Knight on the ground and jump onto the wall, walking up it sideways as you call over your shoulder, "Bye Moon Dude."
  Marc lay on his back, staring at you as you walked away. The two other men in his head wouldn't shut up about you. Steven thought you were hilarious, and he wanted to talk to you. Jake was obsessed with how strong you were and the way the purple fabric of your suit clung to your ass and breasts. Marc just groaned and just laid there, waiting for the suit to heal him while he tried to figure out why his own thoughts wouldn't stop going back to you.
After that, you two kept running into each other over and over. Marc wanted to be annoyed about it. He really did. But he couldn't be annoyed at you. You were talkative and funny and extremely helpful. Khonshu even mentioned on multiple occasions that maybe he should have asked you to be his avatar instead. Your meetings all came to a peek one night when Marc found himself outnumbered. He was about to let Jake out.
You dropped out of nowhere and webbed up all the criminals so they were more manageable. Graceful was the only way Marc could describe you. Moves all seemed to flow together, with no jumbling, no slip-ups. You looked down at Marc, "You alright friend?" He nodded, and you held a hand out for him. He took it and you lifted him to his feet like he weighs nothing. Marc saw Khonshu appear and watched him. You, however, were staring and the giant bird as well. Khonshu tilted his head at you, "You can sense me… How curious." You laugh as you stare at him, "Look at the giant chicken." Marc stops, shocked, "You can actually see him?" You look back at Marc and nod, "Yeah, he's got moons on him like you do. He the one who made you look like a walking target?" Marc chuckles and nods. 
Khonshu growls at you, a monstrous sound, "Be mindful puny bug. I am the god of the moon." You tilt your head, "I'm not a bug? Shouldn't a god know that?" Khonshu slams his scepter down on the ground, "All humans are bugs to the likes of me." You laugh, webbing yourself up to stand, perfectly balanced on the top of his scepter, "Actually, you're wrong." Khonshu tries to shake you off his staff, but your spider grip keeps you right in place. You laugh again, "I'm an arachnid, you silly skeletal chicken. Arachnids are not insects and thus are not bugs."
  Khonshu was rather annoyed with you at this point, tempted to kill you, but he knew he couldn't. You have done no wrong. You have even protected his avatar on multiple occasions. So he conceded, "Alright little arachnid, away with you." You giggle and do a backflip off his scepter, landing perfectly on your feet, "And who says you can't teach an old god new tricks?"
  Marc can't stop himself from laughing at this, much to Khonshu's annoyance. Steven wanted out. He wanted to laugh and joke with you, so he put himself into a nearby reflective street sign to try to convince Marc to switch, ‘Marc, please. I think it's time. We can even show her Jake too, so it's all out in the open.’ When Marc looked to where Steven stood, he shook his head. But before he could respond to Steven, he noticed you. The eyes on your suit were trained on where Steven's reflection was at. The white fabric of your eyes kept twitching, and you even went to rub them out with your hands. 
Marc stopped, "What's wrong?" You laugh it off, waving him off, "It's nothing. Sometimes I see weird things. Think it's just my spider-sense acting up." You kept rubbing your eyes, unable to get Steven's reflection out of your head. So despite what Marc had said moments ago, he decided to reveal it to you, "He is there. You're not seeing things." You look at Marc now, eyes wide and confused, "What? But that man is different from you. He looks like you, sure… But he isn't you. I have seen him before sometimes when we are fighting… And another one… But it's just because I'm tired. I mean, their mouths move, but I can't hear them. So it's just in my head." You rub your eyes again. 
Marc takes a step toward you, "He is real. That's Steven, and the other one you're referring to is Jake." You stop rubbing your eyes and look at him, "Then who are you?" And Marc conceded, "I am Marc Spector." You gasp, realizing that he just gave away his secret identity. Marc knew what he was doing, but it was a risk he was willing to take. Marc didn't expect you to respond the way you did. You rip off your mask, sticking it to your hip so you don't lose it. Revealing your face to him, something Marc hadn't done for you. 
Marc stared at your beautiful face, hair all tangled from being trapped in a mask for hours. Your features were better than he had imagined them. Steven and Jake had to agree as well. You stepped closer to them, "So… You have two other people living inside you." Marc nods slowly, unsure of your reaction. You then break out into the most amazing smile he has ever seen, "You're a three for one special? How exciting!" You looked genuinely excited, not scared of Marc or mad at him. You didn't even look at him like he was broken, you looked at him like he was special, unique in your eyes. Marc's heart started thudding in his chest, and before he could do something he would regret, he let Steven take over.
Steven popped out, the Moon Knight outfit being switched out for his Mr. Knight suit. Your eyes got wider, "You all have different suits?" You practically squealed. Steven got all doe-eyed and blushy under his mask, "Hiya." He waved shyly at you. He had been listening to your fun banter for months, thinking of comebacks or other funny things to add, but now he was tongue-tied. You clapped your hands, "You have different suits, so do you have different superhero names?" Steven gave a small nod, "Sortof. I'm Mr. Knight. Marc and Jake are Moon Knight." You tapped a finger on your chin, "We will have to fix that. What's Jake's costume look like?" Steven willingly gave up control to Jake, knowing deep down he would have more time with you later.
Jake came out, Mr. Knight's suit being switched out for his. It was similar to Marc's, but it had more black on his body, better for blending into the shadows. Jake put his hands out to the side, showing himself off. You hum sweetly, "Moon Pie?" Jake groans loudly, "Like the food? No." You huff and cross your arms, going back to thinking. You pace back and forth and Jake can't help but stare at your ass in your suit. You try out another, "Mr. Moon?" Before Jake can respond, you shake your head, "Nope… Not that one." You pace again and then exclaim, "Moon Boss? That's it. That's my final offer." Jake lets a deep laugh come out of his chest, "Alright. I'll take that one. Daddy Long Legs." Jake teases you. You try to look mad, but you can't hold it. You burst out laughing happily, crinkling your eyes in such an exquisite fashion, "I love it." Jake smirks under his mask, "Alright legs, Marc wants back out now." You smile and wave at Jake as he gives the body back to Marc.
Marc comes back out, seeing you still smiling at him. Your smile falters a bit, "Does it hurt?" Marc shakes his head, "Not usually. It used to before we got along. Sometimes still does if it's forced." You nod softly, "Sorry if I… You know… Caused them to come out and hurt you." You look a bit nervous. Your smiley, radiant look from earlier has gone, and Marc wants it back. So he shakes his head again, "Not at all. They wanted to meet you for a long time. So we all agreed on the switch." You nod slowly and then smile again, "Steven and Jake wanted to meet me?" You pointed at yourself, completely baffled that anyone would want to meet you. Marc nods eagerly, "Yeah, they wouldn't shut up about you since the first time we met. I couldn't stop thinking about you, either." Marc stops, realizing what he just admitted. 
Marc was never this open. Why was he being this open with you right now? You chuckle, "Liked it when I laid you out then? You into that kind of thing?" You tease him, smiling slyly. And Marc does something surprising, even to himself. He wills his mask down, revealing his face to you, "Maybe a little." He teases back. You stop, mouth opens slightly as you stare at his face. And then the words fall from your lips, "God, you're fucking hot." And just like that, Marc finds himself pushing you back against a wall, kissing you hard and rough. You kiss him back, grabbing at his suit. You pull away and Marc wonders if maybe he was moving too fast. For the first time in a long time, Marc second-guessed himself. Then he saw your cocky smile, "My name is, [Y/N]." Then Marc sees it, the playful twinkle in your lust-filled eyes as you add, "Wanted you to know so you can moan it out for me in a few minutes." And with that, he presses his body back against you. Your lives become connected from that night on.
The four of you were happy for years. Living life together was amazing. You dated like a non-superhero couple. Marc took you out on dates often, anywhere he could. Dinner, dancing, and movies. Steven always took you to museums which you love. You both made jokes about the displays and he would tell you everything he knew about the items and history. Jake liked just walking around town with you, stumbling onto someplace fun like a bar or a carnival. After officially dating for a year or so, you even modified your suit. Putting three pearl white crescent moons along your collar, one for each of them. You did also add a white hood that matched Moon Knight's, but you pretended it was something you had been thinking about before you met them. It was a lie. They didn't believe you, but they still loved it. It was happy, it was fun. You all fought crime together. You helped them protect the travels of the night. You even think Khonshu started taking a liking to you. It was your version of perfection. Your version of a happy life.
That was until the day everything went downhill. You were laying back on the couch, your legs draped over Marc's lap. He was playfully running his fingers up and down your thighs, making you giggle. And then you felt it. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up almost painfully. You jumped off the couch, "Summon the suit." You looked around, not sure what was wrong, but your instincts were ablaze, burning you into a hyper-focused state. Marc looked a bit confused, but he listened to you, the suit wrapping around him. Covering him in healing armor. You kept looking around, "Call Khonshu… Something is very wrong." Marc nodded and called to the god. You grabbed your suit and started putting it on. Khonshu appeared, "Something is amiss with this world." His tone was low and ominous. It made you feel worse. 
You looked up at the god, "Protect us, please. I don't know what's happening." You weren't normally so formal with the god. Luckily, Khonshu put a protective bubble over you both. You wrapped your arms around your head and closed your eyes tight. Tring to focus, trying to figure out what is going on. Your spider-sense isn't always as helpful as it sounded. It just told you something was about to happen but didn't always tell you what the thing was. Marc came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to comfort you. You sank into him, still scrambling to find out what was wrong. Then it hit you, "Oh no." And with that, an explosion went off. All the missiles around the world seemed to go off all at once. Khonshu's bubble kept you and your boys safe, but when the explosions stopped. You and Marc were left standing in a crater of what used to be your apartment.
You all had known about the Avengers. Hell, you were friends with a fair amount of them. Tony even gave you some new toys to fight crime with when he invented them. But you and the Moon Boys never bothered with them because they had everything under control. Keyword, HAD. They were dead, Ultron had taken over. Bombed the world and left whatever survivors scrambling to try to fix things. Khonshu gave you, Marc, Steven, and Jake the command of taking care of Ultron, and the four of you eagerly accepted, ready to fix this mess.
Years passed as you ran and fought and clawed for something, anything, that would correct the path that this world was put on. But nothing, all leads turned to dead ends. Most hints of human life, gone. You had run into Nat and Clint at one point, but being in a group that large made you too big of a target for the bots, so you stayed away from each other mostly.
Jake called out to you, "Hey legs, you alright?" You panted loudly and gave him a nod. You had both been running for hours. After the missiles, there weren't a lot of buildings for you to web to and swing from, and then, after years, the ones that were still partially standing started to crumble from the elements. The Ultron-bots were relentless. Jake looked at you, knowing you were lying. He expanded his cape and started to fly. You knew what he was doing. You both had done it before in fights. You shot a web up at Jake and it didn't stick like it normally did. He grabbed the strand, wrapping it around his hand tightly. And with that, Jake flew off, carrying you away from the evil robots for the moment. You caught your breath while he carried you away, "Thanks, Boss." Jake let out a soft chuckle, "Any time, legs." Flying you both off.
Jake landed you both somewhere safe for now. You immediately laid down on the dusty concrete. You would feel Jake's eyes on you. You looked at him and gave him a thumbs-up before your hand thumped onto the ground. You heard Jake leave the room. He tried to get out of your earshot but with super senses that would never happen.
  Jake cleaned off the reflective surfaces he could find. Wanting to have a meeting with Marc and Steven. The two other men appeared and Jake sighed, "We can't keep going like this… She is…" Jake stops, not wanting to say the rest out loud. Steven nods slowly, 'She is exhausted. I can't be the only one who has noticed she is slowing down.' Marc sighs, 'Well, no food and water will do that to a person. She can't keep up.' Jake nods along with the other two, "Her webs are failing." Jake shows his two reflections the web you shot earlier, easily falling out of his hand. Not a single strand of it stuck to him, "This was only maybe an hour ago." Both reflections freeze, watching as your once supernaturally strong web flutters to the ground. Marc put his head in his hand. Steven speaks up, 'If we can get her enough food and water that should help right? Yeah.' He answered his own question before mumbling, 'She will be good as new… She has to be…' 
All three men were in a state of extreme panicking. The only difference was how they showed it. Steven wrung his hands in his reflection, going over every possible way to make you better. Marc was bordering on a panic attack, blaming himself even though there was literally no way this was even remotely his fault. Jake wanted to fight something, fight anything, so he punched the already crumbling wall. He froze when he heard your voice, "Did anyone ever tell you it's rude to talk about people behind their back?" You gave a weak laugh, still their silly talkative mess of a woman, even with the world burning around you. Jake had to give up control and Marc wasn't ready to front either, so it fell to Steven.
Steven came out. Moon Boss's, as you still lovingly called him, suit changing into Mr. Knight's. You smiled sweetly at him, "What's wrong?" None of the four of you bothered with masks anymore. What was the point when everyone was dead? Steven could see the exhaustion on your face, the way your eyes had ever-darkening circles under them, your cheeks sinking in. But you still smiled. Smiled for them. Steven shook his head, "Nothing love… Nothing at all." He lied. He was a terrible liar. Why had Jake and Marc made him front for this? You chuckled and shook your head, "You're a poor liar, Grant." Steven nods all too quickly. You gently grab his hand, "Dance with me."
Steven took your hands in his, "Marc and Jake are much better dancers than I am." You lean up and kiss him. Steven kissed you back. His kisses were always soft, but they were even softer this time because he was afraid of hurting you. You swayed with him, "I want to dance with you right now." Steven swayed with you, watching your beautiful face. He loved you, Marc loved you, Jake loved you. The entire system loved you so much. He wanted to tell you, wanted to say it out loud again, like all of them had done hundreds of times. But before he could, your body tensed, and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. Then Steven saw something new that never happened when your spider-sense kicked in before your nose started to bleed. 
  You looked around, trying to figure out what your sense was telling you. But it was harder to understand than ever before. Being hungry, dehydrated, and tired made it so much harder to follow. You didn't care about the blood running down your face, but Steven did. He tried to brush it away. It didn't stop. Steven was so distracted by you that he didn't notice when a portal opened behind him. Ultron stepped out and snatched him, "I would like to summon your god." Ultron glares down at Steven. You went to fight the giant metal man, but he had all the Infinity Stones now. You were no match even at your strongest and you were nowhere near your strongest. 
Ultron grabbed you with the power of one stone, flinging you back against the wall. You saw as Marc quickly came to the front, suit changing to his Moon Knight one, "Leave her out of this. Take me and let her live." Ultron scoffed, "Me killing her now would have been a mercy. She will rot away soon." Ultron stepped back through the portal he created. You summoned all your remaining strength and shot a web out to Marc, trying to grab him back. Your web, however, fell flat, not even making it to him, and then it blew away, not sticking to anything. You started to cry desperately and in pain. Ultron laughed at your struggle, "How pathetic." Marc met your eyes, "It's okay. We will be okay, [Y/N]" And with that, Ultron closed the portal.
You sat there in a heap, weeping until your tears turned to blood. No more water left in your body to cry. You kept crying, unable to stop yourself and unable to do anything else with how weak you were. Until you eventually collapsed on the floor, falling unconscious.
When you woke up, you only felt a fraction better. You blinked the blood out of your eyes and looked around. Khonshu sat over to the side, waiting for you to awaken. You jumped up, falling again because you still didn't have any of your strength back. Khonshu watched you, "Careful little arachnid. My healing may have helped you not die, but I can not do much else when you are not my Avatar." You growl and scream, "Then make me your fucking avatar… I have to save them." Khonshu shook his head, "That will kill them. My suit is the only thing keeping them alive right now." You stand up on unstable legs, "Then take me to them. Let me kill that metal bastard." Your body is shaky, but you didn't care. You wanted them back. 
Khonshu shook his head at you again, "Then you would die, little spider. And that would kill them in return." You cry again, sadness and anger mixing in your blood, "Then what the fuck is the point of being a god?" You spat out at him through tears. Khonshu stood up, towering over you, "Something much bigger than me is pulling the strings." You glare up at him, "Then why revive me at all… What is the point if I can't do anything to stop this?" Khonshu holds out his hand for you, "There is still one last hope, one last chance." You reluctantly take his hand. And with that, your world spins and swirls around you. When it stops, you end up falling to the ground, unable to hold yourself up. Khonshu points with his scepter, "He can offer you a chance." 
You wipe your face, and you follow to where he pointed, seeing a man in a cloak. Dr. Strange, but he was long dead in this world. Khonshu looks down at you yet again, "He is not of your world. But he may be able to help. To teach you something." You nod, struggling to get back on your feet. Khonshu surprisingly helps you up, "Keep in mind, though, little arachnid. This world is already quite lost. If you do not succeed, it is not your fault." You scoff at that and then Khonshu disappears. 
You trudge up to Dr. Strange when he turns around he looks different, almost evil. He looks you up and down, "You're new." You nod softly, "You're not from this world, right? But if you're anything like the Strange of this world. You know magic. I need you to teach me." Dr. Strange looks you over, the shadows of monsters dancing behind him, "Alright. We have little time. The Watcher is already assembling people to try and fix this world." You didn't care who The Watcher was at the moment or who he was assembling. You only cared about the loves of your life and getting them back, because lord knows what Ultron was doing to them.
Dr. Strange taught you, in the limited time he had. You weren't amazing at it, but as Strange put it, "You're learning quickly for someone who is dying." And you were dying, slowly. The exhaustion, starvation, dehydration, and heartbreak were all coming down around you. More often than not, you could open a portal with a sling ring but couldn't keep it open because you started coughing up blood. Dr. Strange's snake-like eyes took pity on you, but you made him keep teaching you so you could learn as much as possible. You had to get your boys back. You had to.
When The Watcher had placed everyone here for the saving the world plan, you took your leave to use this chance to find Marc, Steven, and Jake. You weren't a part of the plan, so you weren't fucking up anything they were trying to do by leaving. Dr. Strange had told you where you needed to go to find them. And as one last favor, Strange opened a portal for you to send you to your Moon Knights. You had a sling ring to get back when you had them.
Stepping into the room, you already smelled blood. Though you weren't sure if it was from the room or yourself. You kept moving, ignoring the ache in your bones and the hairs standing up on the back of your neck. You made your way through slowly, rooms full of discarded robotic puppets Ultron had no use for anymore. You kept pushing yourself. Just a bit further and you could see them again.
When you found the room, your whole body wanted to crumble, you wanted to collapse. Part of you knew what you were about to see and then another part of you didn't want to believe it. It's what your sense was trying to warn you about, but you ignored it. You saw Marc laying motionless in some kind of scientific-looking monstrosity. You inched closer, and the smell of blood became nauseating. Moon Knight's once pearlescent suit was now stained with various shades of red and brown. Blood in various stages of drying. Ultron had tried to extract Khonshu from them. Like the god would have been inside him. You started crying because you knew. 
You knew. But that didn't stop you from grabbing Marc's hand, pulling it to you and feeling it was still warm. That he hadn't been dead long. Maybe they would come back. They still had the suit on, after all, it should heal them. So you did the only thing you wanted to do. You climbed up onto the dissection table and tangled your fingers into their messy curls that were matted with blood. You curled into Marc's body, closing your eyes as you waited. Their blood soaking into your suit, soaking into your skin as you lay there. You stayed there until you felt his body go cold and even then you still refused to move.
At some point, even through your tears, you felt Khonshu appear in the room. You still couldn't bring yourself to move. Khonshu loomed over you, "It was not your fault, little spider." You choke out, "They will come back. They are still wearing your suit. You will heal them as long as they are in the suit." You close your eyes tighter, clinging tighter to Marc. But you feel the wind when Khonshu shakes his head, "This can not be undone… Those stones are too much for even a god to bring someone back from." You refuse to listen, refuse to believe him. He was a god, after all. It shouldn't matter the cause, Khonshu should be able to fix it. 
  Khonshu watched over you for a long time, not sure what would comfort the spider that got herself tangled up in his mission to protect the travelers of the night. He finally spoke, "They fought till the end. They wanted to remain my avatar." He just heard you cry harder. One of his bandaged hands covered you. You flinched away, pulling yourself closer to the corpse of your lover. Khonshu felt it, he felt your pain. Here you were, slowly wasting away, and you didn't care. You loved his three avatars so much you were willing to die right beside them. Khonshu had felt pain before. It wasn't new to him over his thousands of years on this plane. But this kind of pain, this kind of heartbreak, was new to him. The human emotion of it was almost overwhelming for him and yet there you lay, a tiny little human bearing it all by yourself. If this world wasn't so already broken, then he just might have taken advantage of your grief to make you his next avatar. But this world was doomed. Meant to end and Khonshu along with it. Khonshu could do one last thing for you, could pull one last string to give you a chance to start anew. So Khonshu left you be, for now.
Khonshu appeared before The Watcher, "I ask you, move one last soul from this world before it comes to an end." The Watcher looked down at the god, "I have already broken every rule I was meant to follow. You would have me break more?" Khonshu nods, waving his scepter to show a visual of you, "One last rule. Give her a chance in another universe where she could have a life again." The Watcher observed as you sobbed and clung to a man who was long gone. The Watcher sighed, "I will find her a place." Khonshu nods and then disappears, going back to you. He quietly waved his scepter over you, marking you so that the Khonshu in your new world would know that you were worth protecting. Then he plucked you up and sent you to The Watcher with another wave of his cane.
You dropped unexpectedly in front of the large-headed being. You clasp around on the ground for where Marc went. You scream loudly until your throat hurts, "What have you done?" The world looked like a mosaic here, making you dizzy. The Watcher peers down at you, "I am here to give you another chance at life." You growl, slamming your fists on the ground, "I don't want another life. I want my life. My perfect life before Ultron destroyed everything. I want my boyfriend's back." The Watcher nods, "I know… But the best I can do is send you to a universe where you died. Marc, Steven, and Jake are still there, but they don't know who you are. But you will be able to start anew." You collapse in on yourself, "What if I don't want to start 'anew'?" The Watcher shrugs, "I only offer a chance. What you do with it is up to you." And just like that, a door opened itself in front of you. Leading to what looked like an alleyway in New York. You didn't move. You weren't sure you could have even if you wanted to. And you definitely weren't sure you wanted to. But The Watcher had other plans. He pushed you through the door and suddenly you fell into a new universe, covered in your lover's blood and dying. Overwhelmed by everything, you fell unconscious.
Life As You Know It - Part 1* - Part 2 - Part 3  - Part 4 - Part 5
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scifrey · 1 year
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youtube
Videos to Watch if You Enjoyed "Cling Fast"
How Much Booze Did Medieval People Really Drink? - Dr. Eleanor Janega teaches us how to booze it up, White Horse-style.
Could You Make a Living in Medieval London? - Another great Eleanor Janega video about occupations, scandals, and the every day lives of every day folks in Medieval cities.
What Was Life Really Like For A Medieval Peasant? - the last of the Eleanor Janega videos about what kind of life Hob Gadling would have lived before he met his Stranger.
A Tudor Feast - domestic historians and archeologists Ruth Goodman, Alex Langlands, Peter "Fonz" Ginn and Hugh Beamish - under the supervision of Marc Meltonville of Hampton Court Palace's Tudor kitchens - prepare and serve a tudor banquet at Haddon Hall in Derbyshire. Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four
Who Do You Think You Are: Danny Dyer Learns Tudor Etiquette - A segment from the Ancestry.com series following actor Danny Dyer as he explores his royal roots.
Who Would Be King of England Today According to Henry VIII's Will? - chartmaker Matt Baker takes us through the royal family tree from Henry the Eighth to the present day, if his edict that the next monarch in the event that his three children (Mary, Edward, and Elizabeth) produced no heirs, then the crown should next fall to the children of his youngest sister. And not, as actually happened, go to James of Scotland.
Royal Myths: Elizabeth I and the Spanish Armada - Dr. Lucy Worsley talks us through the propaganda and fibs that have sprung up around Good Queen Bess, and whether or not she really did declare that she had the stomach of a king.
Dancing Cheek to Cheek: The Devil's Work - Another great series by Dr. Lucy Worsley, chief curator of Royal Historic Palaces, but this time she's joined by Strictly Come Dancing's Len Goodman. They trace the history of dance in Britain, and this episode features some rowdy Medieval and Elizabethan numbers.
Turn Back Time: Tudor Monastery Farm - This series sees Ruth, Alex, and Peter return to the Elizabethan age, this time spending a year on a farm worked by peasants and serfs in service to the church.
The Tudors' Bizarre 12 Days Of Christmas Ritual - The Tudor Monastery Farm Christmas special.
Hardwick Hall: A window onto the Elizabethan world - Sheffield Hallam University gives a great look at Hardwick Hall (more glass than wall), the estate home of the wealthiest woman in Britain at the time, and the kind of place Hob would have aspired to build.
Tudor Food & Etiquette Explained in 14 Minutes - Quick and dirty explanation of where your napkin goes and who the 'chairman of the board' was.
Tudor Houses Explained in 10 Minutes - Not particularly engagingly presented, but a video chock full of visual examples of different kinds of Tudor houses and buildings.
Modern History: The Knight - Jason Kingsley introduces us to the concept behind Modern History and in particular their first series, “The Knight”. Jason has been fascinated by history his whole life, in particular the medieval period and the life of knights. (This is the first video of a playlist).
Royal Armouries - Elizabethan Swordsmanship - a demonstration by weaponsmasters at the Royal Armouries Museum in Leeds. (I recommend turning on closed captioning for this one, as the sound was recorded live with no mics.)
Getting Dressed - Tudor Royal Household - a nice, even-paced and well produced video showing what it was like to get dressed in queen Katherine Parr's household.
Dressing Up a Tudor Man - my personal heroes at Prior Attire show us what the blokes were wearing at the time. Keep in mind that this is 40 years too early for Hob and Dream's disastrous Shakespeare-ruined feast. (I recommend turning on closed captioning for this one, as the sound was recorded live with no mics.)
And just for the fun of it:
Medieval Pickup Lines from the folks behind (I believe?) Whores of Yore, and Top Tudor Historian Rates Famous Movie Scenes, wherein Dr Nicola Tallis, British historian and author of three books on the Tudors, rates scenes from five blockbuster movies set in the Tudor period. (I love how scandalized she gets.)
If you want more, I really recommend anything at all featuring Doctors Lucy Worsley, Eleanor Janega, and Ruth Goodman (search their names on YouTube and you'll find a wealth of clips, full episodes, and even playlists.)
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isnovelman · 10 months
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Isn't Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? Side Story Chapter 10
I also upload this chapter in my YouTube channel read there to support my effort, to read click here 👉Link
You have come to me to solve a problem with the holy thing, and it would be difficult to ask if I only emphasized my pure heart.
“I like the scent of tea because the Pope is so worried about me that he even comes to the capital.”
I said with a face as docile as possible. To make it even more gritty.
“Yeah… Hmmmm! But, Lady.”
“Yes, tell me.”
“I have news that the Apocalypse of Saints must be keenly aware of.”
“News?”
Seeing that he says 'news' instead of 'request', he is a human being with a corner like a squirrel.
“Saint Naila left a great relic to ward off the peculiar darkness more than a thousand years ago, in the early days of the founding of Asteria.”
“Of course I do. Because I am the incarnation of a saint. You are talking about the rosary that the cardinal brought during the incense ceremony, right?”
“Yes. By the way… Something is wrong with that holy thing.”
The white rosary was the most prized in the temple, and was only opened to the outside when the pope personally visited or incense ceremonies. However, there was a problem with the sacred objects in this situation where public sentiment towards the temple was at a low level.
Sooner or later, instead, an annual event will be held in the temple, and the Pope will be very upset because he cannot go out with the holy relic in question.
But I pretended not to know anything, and spoke as the Pope intended.
“Hey, there’s something wrong with my stuff. As the incarnation of a saint, it is not a matter to be overlooked.”
I put down the teacup with a serious look on my face, and stared at the Pope seriously.
“Let’s see the condition of things.”
“Yes! Yes! Saint.”
The pope responded quickly with a reddened face, and I reached out as if to offer something.
“That, that… .”
“What?”
“The color of the rosary beads suddenly started to change slightly, so to prevent discoloration, I put it in holy water with strong deity. So… Excuse me, could you stop by the Dominion of Heleia?”
***
The news of Princess Deborah's sudden departure to Heleia caused a stir in the capital.
Of course, it is natural and common sense for a saint to visit before, at the invitation of the Pope.
“There’s nothing strange about it… .”
When the saint saw all of Princess Deborah, it was somehow awkward. Because it is a feeling that a fancy party venue is much more suitable than the papal court.
It wasn't just that.
“In Seymour, they have assembled an elite team of formidable men to escort Saint.”
“Of course, since it’s a saint, I can understand. The princess is the only one, but Deborah must be strong in the first place, why?”
“I have heard that the saint's divinity is merciless to evil demons, but merciful to men. People are scarier than ghosts, do you know? Whether a man with a bad heart will attack Saint-sama. She should be prepared for that.”
“Even though… Isn’t the power capable of annihilating a small country a bit too severe?”
“How much is it?”
“Once the Duke of Visconti and the Hundred Knights of whom he is the vice-leader all applied as escorts … .”
“In addition?”
“Duke Seymour, the owner of the tower, the elders of the tower, the battle unit of the tower led by Sir Rosa de, Sir Belek with the magic tools for attack… There are others.”
“Hey, stop it. I know you well enough.”
***
In front of the ancient teleport that moved from the capital to the former, the Pope and the priests, who met Princess Deborah and the others, were puzzled for a moment.
The last priests were especially surprised.
‘Gee, is she really a saint?’
I saw it as a portrait, but the real thing of the saint was so cold, I was surprised once and twice by the splendid lineup of the escort.
“He is the fiance of the saint whom I had only heard of… This is the Duke of Visconti.”
“Even the genius twins of the Seymour family… .”
“Isn’t that black-haired swordsman the rise of the sword?”
Famous celebrities that even the priests who live far from the capital are familiar with will go out to escort the saint.
'Are you going to wage a war with the temple?'
The Pope tried to hide his embarrassment.
“So many people follow! You will be amazed by the popularity of the saint. Of course, there are a lot of paladins who will protect the saints in the temple.”
The pope slightly turned around saying that there were too many escorts, but
“These people… I've reduced it to half and half. No more.”
The pope could not vomit any more because Princess Deborah spoke gloomily in a friendly voice somewhere.
“Hmmmm. Shall we leave then?”
After some time, the ancient warp gate carrying the great man came into operation, and Princess Deborah stepped in instead for the first time in her life.
“This magnificent building is the Holy See in the center of the Great Temple. Each piece seems to come to life.”
Thierry looked around the inside of the temple full of magnificent paintings and sculptures with admiration over and over again. After quitting daily gambling, his swordsmanship skills had grown dramatically, and he was barely able to be chosen as Princess Deborah's escort.
“Thieri, do you know that you don't came here for a tour?”
5 The princess bit her tongue when she saw Thierry's frivolous behavior.
“It’s not wrong, but I want you to protect the body of the Asteria nobles.”
"it's okay. The dignity and body of the Asteria nobles are already being protected there.”
Thierry proudly pointed to Isidore walking in the lead.
Instead, all the priests and servants passing through the temple glanced at him with a look of surprise. People who saw Isidor for the first time usually doubted their eyes and would react like that.
“Somehow, it seems to be getting better and better. The body is taller.”
“I wonder if it’s the sign of Epsilon and the flower of the year for nothing.”
“Whoa, even if Isidor looks a little less… ‌.”
“I’m sorry, but even assuming Isidor is a little less handsome… In many ways, you can’t.”
“Even though it looks so light, I was in the middle of healing the wounds of my broken heart, do I have to break even the bones?”
“You’re hot all over again.”
“What?”
“… Do you feel sympathy with you? It's a shame.”
While Thierry and the princess were having a sweet conversation, Isidor was paying close attention to the priests.
The holy relics were discolored, and the princess's divine power was slow to recover. Not a good sign.
If the remnants of the Warlock Mage remain, there was also a stronghold hiding here, pretending to be a priest like Miya Binoshu.
'I have experienced enough of the lesson that it is dark under the lamp...'
“Princess, the Pope isn’t guiding us to a place other than the holy place, is it?”
At Isidor's whisper, Deborah shook her head slightly.
“That's not right.”
Upon arriving here, the memories of Naila, who grew up in the temple in the past, came up again and again.
At the end of this labyrinthine corridor, there will be a sanctuary, a spring of water containing divine powers.
“We are here.”
The Pope, who had been walking for a while, stopped in front of a white marble arched door.
Beyond the door, in the center of the circular room, there was a large sculpture in the shape of Nyla, and below it was a small fountain.
“From here on, only a limited number of people can enter.”
At the Pope's words, Belek raised an eyebrow.
“What is the reason?”
“It is a place where holy water with high purity and divine power springs out, so to prevent external contamination… Lady!?”
That was then.
Suddenly, Princess Deborah passed the huge door and began to make her way towards the center of the room where the relic was located.
“Deborah!?”
***
'In addition… heart... ’
thump-thump
From the moment you discover the rosary contained in holy water, your heart begins to beat wildly like when you were incense burn.
My heart was beating so much that my eardrums hurt, and in front of my eyes, countless afterimages of the past flickered quickly. In the flood of memories, I suddenly felt a door.
How did that rosary elicit such a strong reaction?
‘At the time of incense, I awakened all my strength because of that thing. '
My heart beats like crazy every time I come across that white rosary, and I get caught up in a distant sensation, is it simply because it stimulates memories of my past life?
‘Hey, why are you doing this? '
As if asking a question, I stared at the rosary contained in the holy water.
‘And why did the color change like this?'
At that moment, a faint light began to emanate from the beads of the rosary, which had been dyed with a dull gray color. As if answering my question.
- *Deborah*
uh? I think you just called my name?
'A familiar voice... .'
As if possessed by a voice that seemed to contain sadness, I reached out for it... .
“Ugh!”
The moment I grabbed the smooth marble, a strong light flowed out of the six marbles and gradually began to draw a certain shape.
'no way… Magic circle?'
“sh*t.”
Something feels weird, but it's already too late.
The space around me shook like a wave, and I muttered a curse. The distortion of the space became more and more severe, and before long the floor on which I was standing swung like a swirling sea.
Standing precariously in the distorted space, I instinctively looked back. To find the first man that comes to mind when I sense any danger.
“Deborah!?”
The figure of Isidor calling to me, the dew flowed slowly like a video.
Confused, he came down and quickly grabbed his floundering arm, but soon the space began to distort relentlessly like oil on water, and I was thrown into a strange place.
Support me with like, Comments & share. Your support will encourage me to upload next chapter faster.
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falconcoast · 1 year
Text
the charity ball | kaeya x reader
day six. holiday party ft. kaeya
event masterlist 
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after a teasing night, kaeya meets you out by the fountain for one last dance.
a/n: a day late but at this point i don’t really care because i put it off in order to absolutely crush my biz law midterm 🙌
tags: wine, a lil jealousy
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you didn’t understand why you were so jealous.
the knights’ charity ball only came once a year during december. the soldiers from all over mondstadt came to the goth hotel to raise additional funds for the organization. silent auctions were held, with pieces given by the finest artists in teyvat. talks were held by the most preeminent knights, including the acting grandmaster herself, jean gunnhildr. and of course, the charity ball included the option for dance.
it was really supposed to be a wondrous night. but in your corner, you stewed with envy and bitterness, hiding your displeasure behind a flute of champagne. all dressed up, with white gloves, a shined sword at your sword, and a gold and blue coat.
the second of the ragnvindr brothers was the reason for your anger. as his second-in-command, you were displeased by his actions. as the cavalry captain, he should have been presenting himself with the utmost decorum, especially at a formal occasion like this. yet here he was, swinging around another knight on his arm, twirling her around. they exchanged laughter, making you clench your glass.
he had been doing this all night, making himself just out of your reach. even at the start, when you arrived, he spared a mischievous glance before disappearing into the crowd.
you knew it wasn’t just that your field partner was enjoying himself a little too much tonight. kaeya’s sly comments and flirtatious compliments were recently getting to your head. as a knight by his side for nearly two years now, you reflected that it was inevitable. no one, not even you, could resist the charms of the cavalry captain.
frustrated, you turned on your heel in an attempt to cool down. there was no use in staying, not when you had done your duty for the night. giving your graces to a passing sommelier, you pulled at your white silk gloves, pat your sword, and set off into the night.
outside, barbatos’ breeze was gentle but cold. passing the fountain, you stared at your reflection. you tucked your hands behind your back, looking at the mirrored moon. a figure voiced your reflection, staring at you.
“the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” the figure asked, making you nearly jump out of your skin. drawing your sword, you held it up against the person’s chin. a soft chuckle came out of their chest as you processed their voice. “my, you’d think after two years of working together you’d know my voice by now.”
“oh,” you breathed, dropping your sword. “captain kaeya. it’s just you.”
“that it is,” he said, brushing off his suit coat. he wore a white and blue suit, with fitted gold buttons and navy blue sash. you sheathed your sword, relaxing your tense body. “you walked out so quickly. i was wondering if something was wrong.”
“there is nothing wrong,” you disagreed, hand still on the hilt of your sword. “i have completed my work at the charity ball tonight, so i decided to leave. surely, you’re familiar with it; you leave at six o’clock promptly to go have a drink at angel’s share.”
“always hitting it where it hurts,” he mused, pursing his lips into a thin smile.
he didn’t leave you alone. his eye shone down on you, carefully observing your pensive look. you stared back with an equal intensity. “are you planning on interrogating me, or can i go home?”
“you acted differently today. i just wanted to make sure that you were alright.”
“well, i certainly am as i have previously stated, so you can go back to your-your frivolous dancing and drinking,” you replied, turning around and making for the stairs.
“oh, i see. is that what this is all about?” kaeya asked, grabbing your hand. “were you jealous?”
“what?!” you exclaimed, snapping your hand back, clutching it to your chest. “no, you’re preposterous.”
“ah-ah, i think your face is telling, my darling.” darling?! you screamed internally, turning your head away from him. taking your chin into his hand, he smiled. “admittedly, it is quite cute to see you get flustered. but, i will indulge you.”
“i never said--”
quickly, he swept you by the waist, bringing your hand up into the waltz position. he wolfishly grinned as he took the first step. “they say that all knights should know how to dance. you know, just in case they ever need to fulfill their fairytale duties.”
on the cobblestone path, you and your partner slowly danced. you ducked your head down, bashful. “i suppose that is one area in which i lack, then,” you admitted.
“no, i think you’re a wonderful dancer,” he said. “and a pretty one at that.”
you wanted to throw down your gloves out of embarrassment from his words, but you didn’t. instead, you searched his eyes for earnestness and found that that was all there was to it. swallowing, you let yourself be moved by him.
kaeya was warm, much warmer than the chilly air outside. his pulse beat faintly against your wrist. if you could, you wanted to stay in his embrace forever. slowly, you both came to a stop. leaning down, he kissed your hand. “we should not be doing this,” you faintly whispered, looking down at him. “what will one of your admirer’s say when they see us like this?”
“what does it matter what an admirer thinks when all i want is you?” he replied, tilting his head with a knowing smile.
“you mustn't be so forward…”
“and you mustn’t deny what you feel,” he murmured, standing up straight. his face neared yours, tilting your chin again. “may i kiss you?”
all you could do was nod. his lips were on yours in an instant, and a new feeling settled in your chest. after months of denial, you finally let yourself embrace him, denying duty in favor of your heart. pulling away with a heaving chest, you looked at him expectantly.
“once more?” he asked teasingly. “we do have all night.”
“yes, once more,” you whispered, before kissing him again.
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simshousewindsor · 8 months
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BALSIMORE, Windenburg (SNN) - Queen Katherine is back at one of the biggest social events of the year; Royal Ascot!
The monarch, 31, arrived at Royal Ascot on Saturday after missing the horse racing event last year due to maternity leave. It is the first engagement to go into her diary at the start of the year.
We were all waiting to see what color the Queen would wear and, for this year's outing, the monarch wore a yellow Bea dress by @theroyalsims, with a matching Princess of...IX hat by @rustys-cc — and arrived to cheers from the crowd of racegoers.
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Easton Racecourse is rich in history and heritage, hosting one of the world's most prestigious race meetings, Royal Ascot, as well as 13 of Windenburg's annual Flat Group 1 horse races, and numerous Grade 1 Jumps races. Designed by @albanyroyals, it is a popular Windenburg venue!
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The Queen, who adores racing and loves Ascot, is scheduled to bring guests, and members of her family with her on each of the three days of the event. We will be excited to see if yellow will remain Her Majesty's color theme.
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Missing from Her Majesty's attire is a brooch! The new Queen has already become quite synonymous for adorning many of the pieces within the Jewels of the Crown.
Rainier, Prince consort looked dashing in a @melonsloth morning suit and top hat. As Chair of the Queens Coronation Committee, His Royal Highness has been quite busy. Invites were released last week confirming May 18th as the day of the Queens Coronation.
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Riding in the first Carriage with Her Majesty and the Prince consort are the Grand Duke and Duchess of Glimmerbrook.
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The Grand Duke and Duchess were elated to accompany Her Majesty on Day 1 of the Ascot. Considered a prestigious honor, it symbolizes a strong bond between the two nations.
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Glimmerbrook, less than two years ago ceded from Oasis Springs and regained sovereignty, in a deal many believe His late Majesty George I was a strong supporter of.
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The Duke and Duchess of Kent, and the Earl and Countess of Boykins followed in the second carriage.
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The Duchess of Kent looked chic in a vintage 1960s Audrey Hepburn dress and white cocktail hat.
Avid equestrians, the Duke and Duchess have attended Day 1 of Royal Ascot for the past 24 years.
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The Earl and Countess of Boykins were equally chic, while the earl enjoyed his first Ascot as a member of the royal family. The Princess looked classic in purple wearing a Cordelia dress by @sentate, and another gorgeous cocktail hat by @melonsloth.
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Everyone is waiting to catch a blimps of the Queen. Despite the fact that we've had some showers, it hasn't dampened Sims spirits. They are all in, keen to see her!
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You'll notice the carriages are open and, unless it is pouring down, the monarch will keep the carriage top open to be seen. For many, this is the closest opportunity they will get to the monarch.
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Having become close with the foreign royals since becoming Queen, it's speculated that the Duke of Glimmerbrook is on Her Majesty's short list to be invested as a Knight of the Order of the Garter in June.
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The Queen will take a right, the same way the winners of the race this afternoon will take, under that tunnel to end the royal procession; but not before passing the Wayne Roof where a reception for Her Majesty will be held.
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The Queen arrived, welcomed by Gary Baumgartner, Her Majesty's representative here at Ascot, Alvin Duvalton, the Chairman, Richard Paxton, Co-Chairman, and four trustees of the business.
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Her love of this sport just glows ever strong! Journalists, Anderson Crooper said this week, "Racing is so lucky to have Her Majesty the Queen continuing the legacy of Ascot started by her great-grandparents in this sport." Sentiments we here at SNN echo!
This concludes SNNs coverage of Royal Ascot: The Royal Procession Day 1.
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sunset-peril · 12 days
Note
😅
"😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?"
Original Ask Game reblog
~~~~
Whoo boy lemme see here.....
Under the cut for anyone not wanting the awkwardness of this wowie
Zelda was thanking the Golden Goddesses for Urbosa's intervention.
Not Hylia. Zelda still had problems with her. 
But Fayroe, Nayru and Din? Thank you thank you thank you. 
It was almost the Summer Breeze festival, where the cool breeze from the Highlands drafted into the desert for about a week to make the desert more tolerable for other races. 
For vai stuck in town, it was one of the best ways to find their voe.
But that wasn't why Zelda was excited. 
...okay not entirely. 
But she wasn't looking for a voe!
She'd already found one. 
When the Gerudo held events, she was no longer Princess Zelda, Heir to the Hyrulean Throne. She was Missy Zelda of Gerudo Town.
All the pressures of Hyrule were, for the most part, gone. She could just be herself. 
Maybe… she and him could interact a little more comfortably. 
She didn't know quite how Urbosa found out, but she pulled strings to get her and him to Gerudo Town for the festival. 
The whole festival… with no suspicious eyes on her or Link.
She just hoped… the night wouldn't go in vain. 
"Missy Zelda!" A Gerudo poked her head into Zelda's Gerudo Town bedroom. "It's time to get ready for the evening." 
Zelda nearly jumped, slamming the Sheikah Slate down on the bed and subconsciously trying to hide it. 
"Oh, my apologies! I didn't mean to spook you!"
"It's alright, Esosu. I guess I'm just on edge." She rose and half-jogged to Esosu, who hugged her before leading her towards Fashion Passion. 
The shopkeeper excitedly greeted her in Gerudo, leading her into a dressing room and explaining what she believed would look nice for her. “I believe a white ceremonial skirt, like yours Lady Urbosa, will suit Missy Zelda splendidly tonight along with a traditional Gerudo top. I don’t want the blue. She wears no blue.” 
Zelda, who’d grown nearly fluent in Gerudo in the past five-ish years, blinked at the last remark. “Sáei, Natufi?” Why? 
The shopkeeper, Natufi, gave a gentle smile. “Because I want nothing more than for you to be free tonight. That color is a chain for you. Tonight, you shall be above this world. As a princess, you are chained; but as a goddess, you will be free.” 
She nodded almost solemnly, knowing her prison full well. 
“Vehvi…” Urbosa kissed her head. “What’s the matter?” 
Zelda smiled. “Nothing. That sounds lovely.”
“Splendid! Let us get dressed!” 
~~~
Zelda’s skirt blew behind her in the late afternoon sun. Natufi was right. She was stunning.
“No voe will be able to ignore you!" She had declared in satisfaction.
Zelda didn't need all the voe to notice her. She just needed one. And because he was the most stoic of them all, she desperately hoped Natufi was right. 
By the time they arrived, there were already members of all the tribes dancing in the sun and relaxing by the lake of Kara Kara. 
Natufi gave Zelda a comforting pat on the back before gesturing her towards the crowd, voice soft as the breeze. "Go find your voe." 
Zelda looked around for a moment. No Hylian knights. The fact sent a wave of relief through her, and she settled into the dancing crowd like she'd been one of them for all her life. 
A familiar Gerudo song began, one she regarded as one of her favorites, and her restraint further fell away. 
Stars and sand will never fade
Within each part of every day
Though time passes throughout the land
Forever, we’re conquerors of sand
Just as she reached a point where she was lost in this beloved melody, numb to any self-consciousness, she opened her eyes to find the one she’d been waiting for; gently looking at her. “L-Link!”
He seemed to panic for a second before dropping to his knees.
Out of her own curiosity, she went over to him and lifted his chin with a gentle hand. “How long were you standing there?”
"J-Just a second… I-I didn't even know it was you…"
Her brain jumped to odd conclusions. "Why? Because tonight I'm pretty?" 
"Huh? No!" He suppressed an awkward blush. "I-I mean, you're always pretty but- ack." He clamped his mouth shut for a few seconds before blurting "Free! You just looked so free!"
"Oh…" Her gaze at him grew softer. 
"Y-You like this song?"
Zelda nodded. "It is one of my favorites."
"Would you teach me? After all… I am your knight."
Now it was her turn to blush. "Of course… Link."
Just like her previous dancing session, Zelda completely lost the world around her and Link. At the end of every set, he would bend down lower on one knee and hold out a hand for her to take. 
Hylia, he was such a knight! 
After the night had grown dark and late, both were tired enough to crash into each other, but instead of their earlier awkward reactions, Link just curled Zelda's head into the crook of his neck, securing her body as the white fabric continued to flap in the strengthening breeze. "Princess…" He softly whispered, eyes blinking slowly into the world behind her as his chin tucked her closer.
"Please." She mumbled from his warmth. "Just call me Zelda…" 
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silverjetsystm · 3 months
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He holds his tongue. When Moon Knight’s on a team, he tries to mind his manners. Reputations like his bring a lot of assumptions. The cryptic phrasing, sarcasm, and commentary is shelved. Leave his own baggage, the need for control in his personal life and solo operations, at the door. Do what had to be done. Serve. Cap had seen what Jake-and-Marc-Moon Knight had been doing since they came back from Mexico. [Commentary for this entire post, please, only enough space in the ask box. :P]
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Pick any passage of 500 words or less from any fanfic I’ve written, and stick that selection in my ask/fan mail. I will then give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary on that snippet: what I was thinking when I wrote it, why I wrote it in the first place, what’s going on in the character’s heads, why I chose certain words, what this moment means in the context of the rest of the fic, lots of awful puns, and anything else that you’d expect to find on a DVD commentary track. | Accepting! [what is rp]
The post in question!
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Darn ask box and their limits. I'm also slapping a read more on this because wow so many images, so little time.
Aight. From the top. Secret Avengers is an interesting time in Marc's life. This is him 'on parole' and finally what should be hope after the grimdark days of the aughts.
Marc's mostly familiar with Hank and the then current X-Men stuff by whispers and rumors. MK (1980) #35 has MK reach out to the X-Men for advice on how to handle a mutant who was dedicated to murdering dancers who defected the Soviet Union (as one does). But that was, shall we say, years ago.
Y'know. Events where MK hangs out in the background happened. So Marc doesn't really know much besides him, Hank, and the rest of the Secret Avengers are hanging out because Cap trusts them enough. To Marc, yeah, Hank's big blue and brilliant but Hank also doesn't have the same background as the rest of this merry band. Hank isn't a spy, or a soldier, or a thief. Normal people don't really exist in Marc's orbit like they do in Steven and Jake's.
Speaking of those events where Marc hangs out in the background, Marc never really knows what's going on. He's usually the last to know, doesn't keep track of everything at large, and is just there to punch people and give ??? looks. (see @/age-of-moon-knight's "where's moony" tag). A lot of those bigshot writers aren't really familiar with MK so they either lean on ableist language, reference Marc tearing faces off, or give him a sort of 'Deadpool in white' characterization. Here's some good ones.
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Strange (2022), #5. Writer: MacKay; Penciler: Ferreira; Inker: Poggi; Colorist: Tartaglia; Letterer: Petit
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Infinity Wars (2018), #3. Writer: Duggan; Penciler and Inker: Deodato Jr.; Colorist: Martin Jr.; Letterer: Petit
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Original Sin (2014), #1. Writer: Aaron; Penciler and Inker: Deodato; Colorist: Martin Jr.; Letterer: Eliopoulos
Annnnnd now the era we're focusing on! -_-
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Secret Avengers (2010), #16. Writer: Ellis; Penciler and Inker: McKelvie; Colorist: Wilson; Letterer: Lanphear
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Secret Avengers (2010), #19. Writer: Ellis; Penciler: Lark; Inkers: Gaudiano and Thies; Colorist: Villarrubia; Letterer: Lanphear
He is glib. Usually. During Secret Avengers, he's rather….subdued. Taking the remarks as they come and keeping his head down. Trust, it does come back later. Part of it is because well, let's look at how from 2006 to 2011 went:
MK tore Bushman's face off in a mix of vengeance, fear, rage, and disgust. Between the horror of what he did and the extensive injuries, he took a comic two year break. 'Khonshu' as "The One Who Lives on Hearts" (I treat him like an introject) wearing faceless Bushman form, feeding Marc's aggression as he makes it back into street level.
Staying on the sidelines during Civil War.
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MK (2006), #8. Writer: Huston; Penciler: Finch; Inkers: Miki and Crimelab Studios; Colorist: D’Armata; Letterer: Caramagna
Marc's had a need to micromanage his entire operation since the early days. Steven and Jake would do their information gathering. MK would either be separate from any of them or Marc clearly would take the wheel and do his own thing. Marlene would invite herself along (and be vital in saving the day). Frenchie would fly the mooncopter. They'd deal with Marc's anger. Later on, this leads to Marc suppressing or requesting Steven and Jake go dormant in order to handle their life that gets increasingly dedicated to His Duty.
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MK (2021), #14. Writer: MacKay; Penciler and Inker: Cappuccio; Colorist: Rosenberg; Letterer: Petit
Sure, Jan. The longer Marc keeps his hands and only his hands on the wheel, the harder the struggle is. Steven and Jake poke holes and tear down Marc's internalized ableism (as they have before).
Ironically, Frenchie was once more cavalier, saying MK should kill people or they should run out the mooncopter cannons on muggers.
Marlene starts off by saying Marc shouldn't kill people (that Marc is the past and Steven/MK is the future). She then switches positions in the 90s. 90s!Marlene thinks Marc should have killed Bushman and is frustrated he won't kill because of his merc past. 'I hope you grow up before someone kills you.' People change. I can see her like. She used to think Bushman didn't need to die and that MK was Better Than That. She's also been afraid MK was a "benign monster." And now this. I think part of it is how she helped shape MK as much as the system and Frenchie and Bushman did and is eating at her. Plus, obviously, she doesn't want Marc to get hurt or die. By 2006's run, they've had enough of it. While they come back around to supporting him, they also have big problems with how he's operating.
This is the run where Marc carves moons into people's foreheads. Steven and Jake appear in one issue; they hadn't popped up since.... Ehhh. After volume 1 of MK, they show up in West Coast Avengers, in Moench's mini-series after the disaster that was MS: MK, and sometimes in other books like Black Panther, Hulk, etc.
In the end, Marc's big bad tries to control the city and Marc shoves him off a building, killing him. This leads S.H.I.E.L.D. et al. after Marc. Eminem is played. Marc almost dies.
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(classic Moon K.night-Core)
Marc fakes his death and Jake goes to Mexico. However, this version of Jake is written like a 'clean slate' MK who feels more like Marc than Jake. I treat it as co-con, where Jake and Marc share control and skills rather than New Jake.
Jake comes back from Mexico and starts to clean up the MK reputation. He doesn't carve moons in faces. 'Khonshu' becomes tiny and impotent. Marlene comes back around. She proposes to Jake. A baby on the way…. Cap sees the progress Jake-Marc have made and offers him a spot on the Secret Avengers team.
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Secret Avengers (2010), #1. Writer: Brubaker; Penciler and Inker: Deodato Jr.; Colorist: Beredo; Letterer: Lanpheare
Which leads to things like this...
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Secret Avengers (2010), #21. Writer: Ellis; Penciler: Immonen; Inker: von Grawbadger; Colorist: Sotomayor; Letterer: Lanphear
Fucking Randall ruins a nice personal life. Marlene leaves for good. Which sends Marc further down the spiral into self-isolation, need for control, and neither Steven nor Jake pop up until 2022.
Marc's had A Lot of Bad Doctors. (And we haven't gotten to the doctor in 2014 who tried to take Khonshu from him and try to kill him yet!). He's a terrible patient. 2016 opens with him in an asylum, which isn't quite in reality. But the threat and the fear is very real for Marc. He's trying to behave, get good grades in superhero rehabilitation.
Anyway. At this point where Hank easily makes a car a nuclear weapon, Marc picks up on the moral event horizon nature of it all. Because he's been there. MK's whole thing is Second Chances because Spector died when a seed of compassion sprouted during the merc days.
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fritextramole · 1 month
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under the scrutiny of their persistent gaze
part 2 of a Vanessa Abrams playlist - best heard in order
tracklist and quotes under the cut
Mr. Big Stuff ~ Jean Knight
Now because you wear all those fancy clothes And have a big fine car, oh yes, you do now Do you think I can afford to give you my love You think you're higher than every star above
When I Come Around ~ Green Day
Well, don't get lonely now, and dry your whining eyes I'm just roaming for the moment Sleazin' my back yard so don't get So uptight you been thinking about ditching me No time to search the world around 'Cause you know where I'll be found
Wasn’t Tomorrow Wonderful? ~ The Waitresses
Nice things, nice things Oh oh oh, so many nice things Don't mean nothing, if they're dumping Things that sting on you! Don't take that, honey!
Body Language ~ Helena Deland
Fool to think I'd leave with all I need to know and free to go All I need to know and free to go At last Who do you want to be?
I Second That Emotion ~ Smokey Robinson & The Miracles
And maybe you'll go away and never call And a taste of honey is worse that none at all
Untouchable Face ~ Ani DiFranco
I could make you happy, you know If you weren't already I could do a lot of things And I do
Love Like You And Me ~ Gary Glitter
There's a place for you and me Love can come so easily I'll reach out and take your hand Believe in me, you'll understand
I Believe in a Thing Called Love ~ The Darkness
I believe in a thing called love Just listen to the rhythm of my heart There's a chance we could make it now
Girls Go Wild ~ LP
It's all in the name of the Wild Wild West I really love you You know I really do Whatever happens, I hope you're happy too
Wild Ride ~ MOTHXR
The night was always long I see it We're aching from the fall
Sunlight ~ Hozier
I would shun the light, share in evening's cool and quiet Who would trade that hum of night For sunlight, sunlight, sunlight?
Got to Be Real ~ Cheryl Lynn
You know that your love is my love My love is your love Our love is here to stay
You’ve Got to Go Down and Join the Union ~ Pete Seeger, The Song Swappers
Well though the road be rough and rocky And the hills be steep and high We will sing as we go marching
Santa Monica ~ Everclear
We could live beside the ocean Leave the fire behind Swim out past the breakers Watch the world die
Complicated ~ Olivia O’Brien
Take off all your preppy clothes You know, you're not foolin' Anyone when you become Somebody else 'round everyone else
Say It Again ~ Matt Berry
I'm feeling ashamed but I don't know why Like I've seen myself from a recent life The weather feels hot for this time of year Though suddenly seems so cold
The Trial ~ Dead Can Dance
I stand accused of a thousand and one crimes A witness to events that led to this present time These traditions which bind our hands and keep us tied Will never survive the greatest test of time
High and Dry ~ Radiohead
The best thing you've had has gone away
Changes ~ David Bowie
And these children that you spit on As they try to change their worlds Are immune to your consultations They're quite aware of what they're going through
I Don’t Want Your Millions, Mister (All I Want) ~ The Almanac Singers
I don't want your millions, Mister I don't want your diamond ring
Think ~ Aretha Franklin
Let's go way on to way back when I didn't even know you
Hero Takes a Fall ~ The Bangles
Emotion is a virtue For you it is the one fatal flaw Sitting on your throne and drinking Thinking she'll return your call Every story's got an ending Look out, here it comes, here it comes And I won't feel bad at all When the hero takes a fall
I Can’t Wait ~ The White Stripes
First you said I was blind And it's gonna be different this time I thought you made up your mind
Somebody Told Me ~ The Killers
Ready, let's roll onto somethin' new Takin' its toll then I'm leaving without you
I Caught Myself ~ Paramore
Hypnotic, hypnotic You're leaving me breathless I hate this, I hate this You're not the one I believe in
Get Thee Behind Me, Satan ~ The Almanac Singers
Boss comes up to me with a five-dollar bill Says, “Get you some whiskey, boy, and drink your fill” Get thee behind me, Satan, travel on down the line
I Won’t Back Down ~ Tom Petty
Well I know what's right I got just one life In a world that keeps on pushin' me around
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sweetrevxnge · 2 years
Text
Like Phantoms, Forever
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Chapter Thirteen | The Dead of Night
Pairing: Ben Solo x Reader
Summary: Your destiny had never been clear to you, only becoming so when it led you to leaving behind the life you knew to train with the galaxy's sole Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker. His Jedi Academy became your new home, bringing with it the promise of someday becoming a Jedi Knight. While navigating the ways of the Force, an inexplicable connection forms between you and a fellow student—the heir to the legendary Skywalker bloodline, Ben Solo. Together, the two of you must face your destinies and forge the path to your true selves.
What to expect: fluff, violence, sexual content, general angst, mentions/descriptions of injury and death
Additional info: this story is set in 28 ABY, six years prior to the events of TFA
*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!
Masterlist
Spotify Playlist
Word count: 5.6k
Chapter-specific CW: descriptions of injury, needles, sleep paralysis
A/N: I apologize for the wait on this chapter, I've been tweaking things for the last week and it's finally ready!!!
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Pew!
“Ow—shit!” you hissed, clasping your upper arm and applying pressure to the searing pain left behind by an unblocked laser beam.
The Academy remote droids were programmed to fire at the trainee—which wasn’t an issue the majority of the time—but at the moment, you were completely burned out from the full day of training. This was the sixth day of nonstop training, and its toll was starting to weigh on your body. Your muscles ached and your sleep was nearly nonexistent—and when you did manage to get some, it was fleeting and restless.
As if losing sleep wasn’t enough, you had also been struggling to connect with the Force as of late. Actually, to say that you were struggling would be putting it lightly—you were completely detached from it. The effects of exhaustion were widespread and unable to be ignored any longer, but after only a few months at the Academy, you didn’t feel prepared for the journey ahead of you. 
You ripped the blinder off your face and scanned the clearing for the droid, hoping to locate it before another beam could hit you.
Pew, pew!
Two more bright blasts from the droid, both missing you by mere centimeters. 
You spun in the direction of the attacks, releasing a hand from gripping your lightsaber to extend it towards the droid in an attempt to disable it. Despite your effort, the droid shot off another blast, this time landing just above the prior hit and slicing deeper through your skin.
Somehow, the pain left behind by its hit was not a hindrance, almost serving as entirely the opposite. As the pain spread down your arm and up your neck, the edges of your vision blurred as the image at the center became acutely focused.
In a moment of blind rage and irrational thinking, you sliced through the remote droid, sending it falling to the forest floor with a thud.
You stepped to stand above it, clutching the hilt of your saber with white knuckles. How the fuck are you going to explain this? you thought as you watched sparks pop from the severed wiring within its broken frame. Then again, what was stopping you from kicking it into the dense foliage and hoping that nobody would find it?
Against your better judgment, you nudged the busted droid out of the path and into the coverage of a billowing fern.
The two wounds in your upper arm demanded your attention. Fortunately, they weren’t bleeding. The lasers had cauterized the tissue as they tore through the skin, leaving behind two dry, pink gashes. 
Tentatively, you tapped the inflamed edges of the wounds, each knock of your fingertips unsurprisingly sending pain shooting down your arm. As much as you didn’t want to do it, making a stop at the infirmary would probably be wise. Adding an infection to the list of problems you were dealing with was the last thing you needed right now.
Dusk had fallen over the Academy in the time that you had been out in the forest, shrouding the path back to the buildings in a dim, hazy light. Despite winter’s growing presence, the forest was alive with energy. The distant sound of twigs snapping underfoot of critters ricocheted off of the barren trees, reaching you at the tree line as you left the coverage of the woods. 
The air felt heavy, despite the arid winter weather. The twin suns had begun abandoning their positions earlier in the evening, shrouding the campus in darkness before dinner had even been served. You hated the early days, impatiently waiting for the long, vibrant spring days to come once more.
Suddenly, the muscles in your calf tightened, stopping you in your path as you reached down to massage the muscle before it could turn into a cramp. Obviously, hydration wasn’t one of your top priorities today.
Ben had spent the past few days gathering supplies and running diagnostics on the Grimtaash, ensuring that the ship was ready to make the trip across the stars. His enthusiasm was big enough for the both of you, stating on multiple occasions just how excited he was to show you around the snowy terrain of Ilum. To him, this trip was a vacation, but it was anything but that for you. Not to say that you weren’t excited to travel off-world with him, of course you were. In fact, knowing that he would be there with you was the only thing keeping your fear at bay. 
Before long, you found yourself standing in front of the infirmary entrance, hesitantly turning the knob on the door.
Spotless, white marble flooring greeted you, reflecting the harsh overhead lights and blinding your unadjusted eyes. The room smelled strongly of cleaning products, which should have been assuring—to know that everything was disinfected, but only made you feel more uneasy. Several machines beeped quietly, each one chirping out of sync with one another. 
In the corner stood the singular, chrome medical droid that made up the entire infirmary staff. 4-3B had evidently been preoccupied before you arrived, turning to face you with several vials and syringes in his metal grasp. The rows of products behind him were organized neatly by color and size. The monotony of the task would drive you insane, but you supposed that droids were immune to such human flaws.
“Good evening,” it said, identifying you by name. “I am 4-3B, specialized in medical and surgical operations. How may I be of service?” The droid gestured for you to sit atop the examination table beside it, rolling a data screen in front of the bed in preparation for you.
Either 4-3B’s programming required that it offered an introduction before each encounter, or it didn’t remember you from last week. Regardless, you walked over to the examination table and hopped up onto the stiff paper. 
The thick fabric of your robes scraped your wounds as you pulled your arm out of your sleeve, revealing the extent of the damage done by the remote droid.
“Uh, well, I have a couple of nicks from a remote droid and just wanted to get them cleaned,” you said, nodding down to your affected arm as if the droid couldn’t see the wounds for itself.
4-3B inspected your arm, its triangular yellow eyes probing you as you spoke. Another twinge in your leg muscles reminded you of your other condition. “And could I maybe get something for dehydration, too?”
The silver droid moved away from you, turning its attention to the data screen in front of the exam table, flipping through options and pop-ups impossibly fast.
“I can address these concerns, yes. It seems as though you have two superficial lacerations on your right upper extremity, both with what appears to be partial thickness burns. I will clean them properly and suture them closed.”
Stitches? Is that really necessary? A shiver ran down your spine as you looked at your injuries, suddenly all too aware of the extent of the damage done to your skin.
“Thank you, Threebee.” You offered the droid a weak, appreciative smile, receiving an empty stare in return.
“After I have completed my assessment and dressed your wounds, I will bring you a bottle of Hydralyte,” 4-3B said as it unraveled the cords to the vitals monitor, wrapping a cuff around your non-injured arm and clamping a pulse oximeter on your finger.
The cuff began to inflate, squeezing your arm tightly until you could feel your pulse throbbing against it. As it slowly deflated, 4-3B ran a thermometer across your forehead until a temperature value appeared on the screen. 
After the confirmation that you were indeed alive and had a pulse, the droid disconnected the cords from your body and rewrapped them to hang neatly on the machine’s hooks.
“All of your vitals values are within expected parameters, however, your blood pressure is rather low. Drinking fluids should correct this,” it stated.
You nodded and watched 4-3B shuffle across the room, opening multiple drawers and cabinets to collect what appeared to be a suture kit, gauze, salves, and a roll of elastic bandage wrap. 
After collecting its supplies, the droid began inspecting the rows of vials, the same vials it had been organizing just before you entered. It made its selection question, plucking up a glass vial with a flat, blue top that housed a clear liquid. With its pincer fingers, 4-3B flicked the cap off and plunged a needle through the rubber barrier, expertly drawing up the solution into the attached syringe.
Sweat beaded at your hairline at the sight of the needle, long and sharp as it retracted from the vial. You couldn’t help the anxiety that swelled in your chest at the thought of being jabbed by it, the sting of it puncturing your skin.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” you said, clearing your throat between breaths, “what is that?”
4-3B set the vial down and sheathed the needle with the attached safety cover before answering. “This is lidocaine. It will numb the area before I begin placing sutures.” 
“Oh, okay,” you whispered, feeling your pulse quicken as 4-3B removed the large needle from the end of the syringe and dropped it in a red receptacle, placing a new—and notably smaller—needle on it.
What had gotten into you? Needles had never really bothered you before. When you had the birth control implant placed, you had hardly batted an eye—practically dozing off on the table while it was happening. So, what was different now? Other than the nonexistent chance of you peacefully dozing off this time.
4-3B placed its supplies on a clean tray and brought it over to your bedside before uncapping another clear syringe and flushing your wounds with it. The liquid was cold as it washed the gashes, relieving the burning sensation in the damaged skin.
After repeating the process a few more times, 4-3B uncapped the lidocaine syringe and anchored its prong-like fingers beneath your inflamed skin, the needle steady in its grip. 
“I am now going to inject the lidocaine into the skin around the wounds. You will feel a small pinch and a stinging sensation.”
There was something oddly comforting in the way 4-3B spoke. Detached, yet precise and knowledgeable.
The needle broke the skin, and just as 4-3B had promised, a stinging sensation spread throughout the tissue as it slowly filled with lidocaine. The pain wasn’t terrible, and after a moment, the drug had become effective, relieving you of having to feel 4-3B continue to inject the skin around your wounds. Now, all you could feel was a faint pressure from the needle digging around the torn flesh.
Satisfied with its work, 4-3B deployed the safety cap and discarded the empty syringe on the metal tray before opening a small square of gauze and blotting the excess fluid from your wound.
“Lay back on the bed and relax your arm, miss.”
You followed its instructions and laid back against the paper, wriggling into a semi-comfortable position—as if comfort was even a possibility on this bed. 
Deciding the best plan of action was to not watch 4-3B stitch your wounds, you closed your eyes and tried to remove yourself from the situation. 
Strangely enough, you started to relax, your mind conjuring a familiar daydream: the fantasy you had created of a life shared with Ben. Maybe all of those cleaning chemicals were good for something, after all.
As your mind drifted, you could hear the faint sound of 4-3B speaking to you, its words becoming increasingly distorted. 
Soon enough, the imaginary reality you had fallen into had completely engulfed your senses. 
Pictured in your mind’s eye was you, just as you were now, but instead of donning your usual tan uniform, you were dressed in a fitted black leather jacket with pants to match. The material hugged your body perfectly, accentuating your shape in every way your Jedi robes didn’t. On your hip was a shiny, silver blaster, tucked snugly in its holster. You looked, for lack of a better term, badass.
You stood on a balcony made entirely of glass, one that overlooked a bustling metropolis made up of tall buildings and crowded hyperlanes. The bright neon signs upon each skyscraper painted the night sky in a variety of vivid colors. Upon further inspection, you found that the city below you wasn’t a city at all, but one of the many levels of Coruscant’s surface.
Somewhere far off, a suture needle punctured your skin, cinching the edges of your top wound together as 4-3B pulled the thread into a knot.
Back on the balcony, there was another figure beside you—an unmistakable, dark-haired man. Ben Solo was wearing all black, from the tactical jacket draped over his shoulders, to the straps, holsters, and pants around his hips. His fair skin absorbed the lights of the cityscape, an array of colors dancing across his freckled face as he looked down at you.
Snip. The sound of 4-3B cutting the thick thread penetrated your dream, yet wasn’t enough to pull you from it.
One of his hands pressed into the small of your back as he turned you to face him, his other one gently tipping your chin up. Tangible butterflies erupted in your stomach at just the idea of Ben's touch.
As you met his gaze, you noticed a unique feature, one that the Ben you knew did not have. A long, pale scar ran up the left side of his neck, continuing over his cheek and brow bone.
The sight was disorienting. You tried to step away from him, but his grasp around your waist tightened. His embrace was overpowering—almost possessive—causing panic to rise in your chest. Now pinned against his frame, he held your chin firmly between his fingers, forcing your gaze to his dark eyes.
Your surroundings became blurry as you futilely attempted to ground yourself in reality. Around you, the clear balcony beneath you transformed into a dark-tiled floor as the vivid, neon signs lining the skyscrapers morphed into tall, black panels filled with blinding white light, illuminating you in the unfamiliar setting.
Under your palm, Ben’s clothing had changed too. A black, quilted tunic replaced his weathered jacket, the fabric now the only soft element of his appearance.
You shut your eyes as he guided your lips up to his, your stomach roiling violently. Just before your lips made contact, a loud, robotic voice echoed throughout the hallway.
“I am done now, miss.” 4-3B’s voice was a lifeline, retrieving you from the nightmare. “These sutures will fall out on their own in one to two week’s time. In the meantime, you will need to change the dressings daily, or as needed, such as if they get wet or become compromised.”
You hardly registered its words as you propped yourself up on the table with shaky hands, trying to control your unsteady breath. The infirmary was a comforting sight as your vision became less distorted, the details of your surroundings slowly reappearing.
The image of Ben haunted you, burned into your eyes as you stared at the white wall. It was too realistic, too tangible to be a dream.
4-3B lifted your arm and began carefully wrapping your sutures with an elastic bandage. After completing its work, the droid turned away from you and retrieved a bottle from the small fridge in the supply station.
You jumped off of the table, your legs weak as you cautiously walked forward. 4-3B handed you the slim bottle of a pale, cloudy substance. In bold letters running up the side of the glass bottle read: ‘Hydralyte (Electrolyte Solution)’.
In the corner of your vision, you could see 4-3B placing unopened care supplies in a clear, drawstring bag for you to take back to your quarters.
“That is all, miss,” 4-3B said as it handed you the bag. “If there is anything else I can do for you, please let me know.”
“I will, Threebee,” you said as you accepted the bag with your free hand.
With that, 4-3B turned and made its way to clean the metal tray beside the examination table. You glanced down at the items in your hands, as if to verify that you had everything you needed, before opening the door and slipping back out into the dark night.
“Oooh look, they’re serving tiingilar tonight,” Ben said as the two of you entered the dinner line.
The aroma of the hearty stew wafted from the serving dishes, its fragrance as comforting as it was in your childhood.
“My mom used to make tiingilar all the time when I was little. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it,” you said, inhaling the scent as you stepped forward in line. 
“I can’t say I’ve eaten more than a handful of times in my life. Good thing I have a connoisseur with me to tell me if it meets her standards.” Ben nudged you teasingly with his elbow, striking you just below your wound.
You winced and let out a sharp breath. “Hey, watch it!”
As he turned to look at you, you saw the realization of what he did dawn on him.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, baby–” He stopped himself just before he could finish the word, clearing his throat to erase any evidence of the endearment from his palette. He scanned the environment for anyone who could be listening before correcting himself, his voice much lower this time. “I didn’t mean to…” He paused, visibly concerned about his slip up. “I’m sorry.”
4-3B had sutured and dressed your wounds nearly an hour ago and as the lidocaine’s effect slowly ebbed away, the numbness was replaced by a nagging ache.
Ben had been surprised to see the bandage around your arm when you met him in the dining hall, his curiosity immediately piqued. After a few teasing remarks from him, you reluctantly divulged the rather lame story of getting hit by a remote droid. He could hardly suppress his smile as you told him how you destroyed the droid after the second blast. In hindsight, it was an irrational and silly thing to do, but it felt so natural in the moment.
“It’s okay,” you said, grabbing a bowlful of the hot tiingilar and setting it down on your tray. “Besides, I doubt that you and I are much of a secret anymore now. We have Voe to thank for that.”
Ben let out a huff beside you, shaking his head lightly as he grabbed a bowl for himself. “Don’t let her get to you.”
“I think it’s too late for that.”
Across the room, a hand shot up from a table, catching your attention as the two of you turned to find a table. With two empty seats beside them, Tai and Hennix had evidently been saving spots for the both of you. 
Not having seen either of them since the tournament, you dreaded interacting with either of them. You could only imagine what they must have thought after watching the match between you and Ben. 
The two men exchanged a knowing look as you both walked over and filled the empty seats.
“You had us worried for a second there,” Hennix said to you as you sat down. “With all the rumors floating around, we were starting to think that Master Skywalker had expelled you for getting with his nephew.”
Ben rolled his eyes in response, his expression more irritated than amused. 
“You should know better than to trust a rumor,” you said, your annoyance evident in your tone. 
“It’s hardly a rumor when I saw it with my own two eyes,” Tai said, leaning in closer to the center of the table. “I’ve known Ben a lot longer than you have. I can tell when he’s taking it easy on his opponent.”
Heat rushed to your ears as you thought back to the match with him. That was taking it easy on you? You had barely been able to hold your own against him, under the assumption that he wasn’t holding back. Somehow, you were angry at him for pulling his punches.
You swirled your spoon in the tiingilar, feeling Ben’s eyes on you as you stirred the sliced carrots and potatoes around. Steam rose from the stew as you lifted a spoonful to your lips, blowing on the bite before carefully swallowing it.
“Enough, Tai,” Ben snapped in a low tone. “She’s had a rough day. Actually, we both have.”
You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh yeah? What’s been going on with you?”
He took a bite of the stew, showing restraint by not shoveling the entire bowl into his mouth in under a minute like he usually did.
“I’ve just been feeling…off today,” he said between bites. “It’s hard to describe, and it could be because I’ve been distracted with all the preparations for Ilum, but it’s like I’m having trouble connecting with the Force.”
“Wait, really?” you exclaimed through a mouthful of carrots and rice. “Because I’ve felt out of tune with it all day.” The spices of the stew started burning your tongue as you spoke, frantically searching for your bottle of Hydralyte.
“Yeah, yeah, take a ticket, you two,” Hennix chuckled. “Whatever it is, it’s going around campus like the clap.”
Choosing to ignore his analogy, you redirected the conversation. “Has anyone talked to Master Skywalker about this?”
The three men shook their heads, looking around the table to see if any of them had taken action.
 “Let me rephrase that: do you think we should talk to Master Skywalker about this?”
“I mean, what is he going to say? That we’re all distracted and need to focus on our meditation?” Tai said, setting his now empty glass of blue milk down with a clink. “I think I speak for everyone when I say that I’d rather not get lectured for trying to get to the bottom of this.”
You leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Okay, but what are the odds that all of us are feeling weird? Don’t you think that’s something worth investigating?” Your voice was raised, but you weren’t necessarily angry—just frustrated.
Under the table and out of view of the others, Ben slid a hand over your knee and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“It’s probably nothing,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the fabric of your pants. “Definitely not something to lose sleep over.”
His touch was soothing, but you were still irritated about the unresolved issue. “If you say so.”
The conversation died as you and Ben turned back to eating while Tai and Hennix gathered their used napkins and dirty dishes on their trays.
Tai grabbed his tray before standing up, elbowing Hennix in the side to do the same. “Well, I think we’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Besides, I need to finish reviewing my texts before tomorrow’s lesson.”
“We’re not–” you started to say before Hennix cut you off.
“Same here,” he said, winking at Ben before clearing his dishes from the table. “Don’t get into too much trouble, kids.” 
“No promises,” Ben said, a hint of sarcasm in his gruff voice.
As the two men walked away from the table, Ben slid his hand up from your knee to your thigh, sending heat rushing to your cheeks.
 For fuck’s sake.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Mhm,” Ben hummed beneath you, his chest rising and falling rhythmically under your palm. 
His eyes were fixed on the text in his hand as he flipped through the pages, skimming through the required reading. He had brought it with him when he came over after dinner, adamant on still being with you while he studied for tomorrow’s lesson.
You had long abandoned your own assigned reading, finding that running your hand over Ben’s bare chest was far more interesting than memorizing the principles of the Jedi Order. You traced lazy patterns over his muscles, occasionally connecting his freckles with invisible lines, as if you were drawing constellations on his skin. For the first time all week, you finally felt relaxed.
“Do you ever have moments where you feel…” You paused, searching for the right word. “Distanced from the light?”
He set the book down on his stomach, meeting your gaze. “Distanced from the light?”
You nodded, unsure how to elaborate without confessing to the moments of darkness you had experienced, including the vision you had in the infirmary.
Before you could respond, he spoke again.
“I’d say I’ve felt more than just distanced from the light,” he said softly, as if he was choosing his words carefully. “Sometimes I feel like I’m caught in a balancing act between the light and the dark.”
“You do?”
“Yes. More often than I’d like to admit.”
You blinked, unsure how to navigate this conversation. “How do you handle it?”
He shifted under you, raising an arm above his head to rest on the pillow. “I’m not sure I do.”
An uncomfortably long moment passed as you absorbed his words. You stared into the dwindling flames in the fire pit, your hand still resting on his chest below you.
“Why do you ask?” He cupped your cheek with his hand, soothing the delicate skin with his thumb. “Do you feel distanced from the light?”
“At times…yes,” you answered. “Master Skywalker said that I drew my power from the dark side before I got here.”
His face lit up at your confession. “Wait, let me guess…” he said, looking up in thought. “You were arguing with someone and they said something that really pissed you off and in your rage, you accidentally choked them?”
“No, you smartass,” you scoffed, grinning into his warm palm. “I didn’t accidentally choke someone. It’s actually much worse than that.”
His eyes widened in anticipation.
“I accidentally killed a Kath hound that was going to attack me.”
His mouth parted with feigned surprise. “You killed it? In self-defense? Damn, I didn’t realize I was in the presence of a cold-blooded killer.”
“Oh, please,” you groaned, pushing his hand away from your cheek. “I’m serious, Ben. I’m really worried about this.”
He tucked his rejected hand under his head, propping himself up a bit higher. “Well, do you still feel its pull?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, let’s talk about it then,” he offered, his tone more serious than before. “I think that understanding it will help you control your fear of it.”
You rolled back onto the pillow beside him, left with little room between his body and the wall. 
“I don’t know where to start. It usually calls to me when I’m meditating, but there’s been a few times where I haven’t been doing anything related to the Force and it's happened.”
Ben turned to face you, his eyes trained on you as you spoke.
“There was one time in the forest, the time I told you that an animal scared me.” You paused, replaying the moment in your head. “That wasn’t the truth. The truth is that I had been meditating and the darkness had pulled me under. It was terrifying, like I was being dragged into a cold abyss beneath the surface of the Academy.”
There was a brief silence before Ben finally spoke. “I understand.” His voice was low and calming, an antidote to your growing concern. “Just know that it’s nothing wrong with you. Every great Jedi the galaxy has ever known has faced this exact problem and conquered it. I know that you will, too.”
He leaned over and planted a light kiss on your forehead, gently snaking an arm up your spine. As he pulled you in closer, you remembered how it felt to be held by him in your dream. The feelings were nothing alike, the Ben on the balcony being a complete stranger to the one holding you tightly right now. 
His warm breath fanned over your ear as he tucked his head into your neck. The image of him with the scar appeared in your mind, but it didn’t bother you like it had before. In his arms, nothing could disturb you. 
“At least one of us believes in me,” you muttered against his chest as you buried your face in it, inhaling the fresh scent of his cologne. “Thanks for being here, Ben.”
A certain three-lettered phrase clawed its way up your throat, desperate to be announced. The feeling surged in your belly and flooded your chest, dousing your entire body in a warm, fuzzy sensation that corroded your logic.
“I’ll always be here, princess.” Ben pressed his lips to the top of your head before resting his chin on the same spot.
The two of you stayed there for a moment before you pulled back to look at him. His hair had fallen out of place, revealing the tips of his ears. You raked your fingers through his dark waves, pushing them out of his face. The freckles that scattered the bridge of his nose seemed more pronounced in the dim light, tapering off on his high cheeks. His beauty never failed to captivate you.
He watched you intently, admiring you just the same as you were him. Under his eyes were puffy, dark bags, evidence of his own poor sleeping habits.
“You look tired,” you whispered.
He chuckled softly. “What gave it away?”
Your thumb grazed over his cheekbone as you lowered your hand, dragging over his bottom lip before pressing against his chest. “Just those big, brown eyes of yours.”
He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, letting out a long sigh as he did. “If I’m being honest, I haven’t slept well since that night with you.”
Warmth burst in your chest at his statement, a smile stretching across your face. “I guess I’ll just have to stay over more often.”
“I guess so,” Ben said through a yawn. “As much as I’d love to stay here, I should probably go back. I still have a few chapters to go over and I don’t want to keep you up any later than I already have.”
You groaned. “Do you have to study, though?”
A laugh vibrated in his throat. “Yes, I really do.”
“Fine,” you relented. “Just know that I expect perfection from you on this exam.”
“I'll do my best.”
“You’d better.”
He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, revealing a pattern of wrinkles from the bedding etched into his skin. He pulled his thermal over his head and stood to his feet, searching for his boots in the low light.
To your dismay, he finally found his boots and slipped them on. If only you could manipulate the Force to make them disappear. Maybe then he wouldn’t—or couldn't—leave you. Maybe then you’d actually get some decent sleep.
You let out an amused breath at the thought, catching Ben’s attention as he stepped into the second shoe. 
“What’s so funny?” he asked, digging his fists into the firm mattress as he leaned closer to your level.
“Nothing,” you answered, hiding the smile forming on your lips behind your hand. 
He scrutinized you with playful eyes as he picked up his text, holding the ridiculously thick spine in one hand like it was a children’s book.
“It’s not nice to keep secrets,” he said, pulling your chin up with his free hand to meet his lips.
The kiss was warm and sweet, his lips moving gently against yours. Instinctually, you reached for the collar of his robes, trying to keep him here longer.
Your chest felt hollow as he pulled away, his fingers still holding your chin in place.
“Goodnight, princess.”
You looked up at him with big eyes, silently pleading for him to stay. “Goodnight,” you said softly.
“Another night, I promise,” he added, as if he had read exactly what your eyes communicated.
“Okay.”
He smiled down at you before releasing his grip on your chin and walking towards the door. You watched as the door latched shut behind him, Soon, the sound of his footsteps became distant, leaving you with only the pops and crackles of the fire pit to keep you company.
Deciding that there was no use in staying up later than you already had, you nestled into the sheets that had just housed you and Ben, letting your head sink into the feather-filled pillow. You closed your eyes, desperately hoping for a good night’s rest.
Time passed slowly as you waited to fall asleep, tossing and rolling in your sheets. You quickly discovered which positions hurt your arm the most and tried to avoid them, but your restlessness made it difficult. You tried not to think about how easily you would have fallen asleep if Ben had stayed.
Miraculously, the heaviness of sleep began to settle over you, bringing with it the promise of an escape from the long days of training you had put your body through.
Just as it was about to claim you, a sharp, burning sensation erupted in the side of your neck, like a scalding knife slicing into your flesh. A strangled gasp caught in your throat as you reached up to touch the area, feeling a small, metal dart piercing the surface of your skin. 
Everything happened so fast. An icy sensation flooded your veins as you tried to grab the object, but before you could, your fingers became stiff, every muscle in your body becoming rigid and tense.
Black dots filled your vision as you laid there helplessly, hot tears filling your eyes as you quickly succumbed to the darkness pulling you under.
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merlot-and-chardonnay · 4 months
Text
A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 37
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Chapter 36
Masterlist
Just a heads up I'll be jumping ahead in time a bit for the first two sequences before we head back to the present point in time.
---------------Temerian dungeon a few weeks later-----------
"The Targaryen princess seemed to recognize you right away," Roche addresses an imprison Geralt, "the look in her eyes, it was almost as she'd seen a ghost the moment she turned to face you. But you on the other hand...what is your relationship to the princess, Geralt?" "That I don't remember," Geralt admits. "Well it appeared you were one of the people she was looking for in her solitary quest," Roche says, "something about you being connected to her mother, the Lady of Larks. I never would've guessed..."
"How do know her?" Geralt questions. "I had the very high honor of meeting her years ago," Roche explains in his usual sarcastic way, "my men saved her from these bandits. Then, I had the very displeasure of meeting her father as well as the dragons."
"Go on, then," Roche insists, "finish the rest of the story. If I remember correctly, after your little confrontation with the princess she disappeared to meet with the sorceress Tris."
"She did," Geralt confirms, "but then she rejoined us in the monastery. She had some questions she wanted to ask me..."
---------Meanwhile in King's Landing-----------------
In the small council chambers, a meeting was held. Present for the meeting, apart from the small council members was Queen Alicent and the Hand of the king. The king himself was not present,. In fact, Viserys hadn't been present for any of these meetings for the last few years or so, around the time when his health had taken a sharp decline, to the point where the king barely leaves his chambers for most of the day and had become dependent on Milk of the Poppy to keep the pain at bay.
The meeting was about to conclude, before a servant knocked and enter the chambers. "Beg pardon your Grace, my lords," the servant addresses, holding a scroll in his hand, "this message is addressed to his Grace the king...or at least we think it is." "You think it is?" Otto raised a eyebrow at that statement.
"The uh...the message, I'm afraid is written in a different language," the servant explains, "it came from the Continent, but no one here appears able to speak it."
"...maybe there might be one," Alicent suggests, "send of Ser Ivan. Maybe he may able to translate the message for us."
The servant bows and goes to do such. Otto had the rest of the council members dismissed in the event this was something that needed to be kept under wraps from the rest of the Keep.
"You sent for me, Your Grace?" Ivan speaks, lightly bowing. "I have," Alicent nods, handing Ivan the scroll, "this message came from the Continent. As a Continental yourself, I am hoping you have retained what languages you may have learned there so as to translate this message. For the Hand, for your queen...and for your king." Ivan looked to Alicent and to Otto and nodded as he unrolled the scroll, thankful that learning to read and write was also part of his knight training.
He recognize the language as it was one his mother had taught him before she died, and it was the language of his father's people. "Well? What does it say?" Otto questions, noticing the worrying looks on Ivan's face. "Oh, forgive me, Lord Hand," Ivan says before he translates the letter.
---------------Temeria: La Valette castle, present time-----------------
Aemma stood where she was, speechless and feeling all sorts of mixed emotions as she stared into the eyes of the man who was supposed to be the bane of hers and her father's existence. The man, she had been told had taken her mother away from her family.
The White Wolf...Geralt of Rivia...the Witcher....
Aemma clung to hilt of her sword, not sure what she should say or do. All those years in her childhood and adolescent she had dreamed of this day. She had dreamt all different kinds of scenarios of what she was going to do, what she would say, how she would've made the white hair witcher confess his crimes before she plunged her mother's silver dagger into his heart and before feeding his corpse to Cirillia. There had even been a scenario where Aemma would've burned his body herself before offering it to her dragon as she had believed then that he was not worth the trouble of being burned with dragon fire. 
But now, given everything she had been told to the contrary from sources that were not her father, Aemma had never imagined a scenario where she would've just talked to the man...and ultimately spare his life and absolve him of the crimes he may not have actually committed. Aemma's hand began to shake, and she struggled to keep it under control. 
"You...you're....you're him...Geralt of Rivia."
Foltest and the Blue Stripes stood there as the standoff continued, not sure what to do, and were curious as to how this was going to go down.
Aemma pulled out her dagger, somewhere in the middle of wanting to carry out her plan and fighting against it. Geralt stood there, feeling confused. This young woman knew him...but he didn't; even in his visions of the Wild Hunt, this individual was never present. Yet, she did look familiar, though Geralt couldn't figure out why.
"You...you know my mother," Aemma accuses, bringing the witcher's mind back to reality, "where is she? Where is my mother? What did you to the Lady of Larks?"
Once again, the present company exchanged looks at the mention of that name, some even whispering among them. "Princess Aemma?" Foltest speaks up, "did you say your mother was-" "The Lady of Larks!" Aemma ignores the Temerian king, keeping focus on the witcher, "what did you do to her?! Answer my question!"
"...I'm sorry," Geralt shakes his head, "I don't know what you are talking about." Aemma stood there, speechless, eyes wide, unable to understand it all. This man was a prominent figure in her mother's story...yet he did not seem to know this, "you...you don't remember her?" A single tear escaped the princess's eye, not able to comprehend that it was such a possibility.
In a fit of rage, Aemma charged at Geralt and pushed him down. The witcher, though surprised as anyone else, did not bother to defend himself, even when Aemma had the dagger at his throat. "What the fuck?" she hears Roche's voice.
"No! No! NO!" Aemma cries out, "you don't get to DO THIS! YOU DON'T GET TO FORGET MY MOTHER! NOT AFTER EVERYTHING SHE'S BEEN THROUGH! WHAT YOU'VE PUT HER THROUGH!!"
"I'm...I'm sorry," Geralt speaks in a regretful voice, "I don't-" Geralt suddenly had a vision of the past. It was back to the that time in Rivia, when he and (y/n) had supposedly died during the pogrom. They were taken to another place to some island, thanks to the help of...Ciri, yes, that's what happened. It had been paradise, though he could see (y/n)'s face, the sadness in her expressions; even during moments of happiness, she had this longing to return and reunite with...
The vision then turned to (y/n) being taken away from him...the Wild Hunt...they took her away from Geralt, and he needed to go and bring her back.
The moment of contemplation was cut short when Foltest's voice boomed, "Aemma, stop this madness!" the kings demands, "the witcher is with me! Whatever grievance you hold against him, you shall not harm him!"
"You can't forget her!" Aemma sobs out as more tears escape, "you just can't...I need to know where she is...I've waited so long for her to come back! I..." She dropped the long forgotten dagger as she pulled back and continued to sob. Geralt was at a loss about what do and the rest of the party had some awkward looks, not sure to console the poor woman. The witcher looked at Aemma, "your mother...(y/n), that was her, wasn't it?"
Aemma looked at the witcher again, nodding, "you remember?" "No...at least, not the parts you want me to remember," Geralt says standing up and helping Aemma to her feet, "It's a long story, and one I can't quite put together. But I do have some memories of (y/n)..."
A portal suddenly pops up and a woman with red hair comes out. "Geralt," she says, "you're alright and...who is this?" she turns to Aemma. "This, Merigold is princess Aemma from Westeros," Foltest announces, "I'm sure you know of that place." Tris' eyes widen the moment she heard that name, "Aem...Aemma?" She approaches the young woman, "Aemma, is...is it really you?" "Yes?" Aemma frowns at the woman in confusion. A smile on her face, Tris pulls Aemma in for an embrace, "Oh Aemma, it really is. My, you really have grown up, you look just like your mother." "You knew my mother? Wait who are you?" "Tris Merigold," Tris tells her, "I'm a mage, I serve the king." "Tris?!" Aemma's eyes widen, "I've...I've been looking for you," she says, "I have questions."
Tris nods and excuses herself and Aemma and escorts the young woman into a portal so the two can talk.
--------------meanwhile---------------
"The plan has been set into motion," the witcher of Gullet assures the Scoia'tel commander, "soon as the pieces will fall into place and Foltest will be out of the way."
"I know you have no wish for gold or anything else," Iorveth says, "but there is a change of plans." Letho raises an eyebrow at that. "Scouts have reported a new piece has been added to this game," the elf explains, "A Targaryen princess from Westeros. I don't know what you know of that place, but my people still hold grudge against the ruling family there for personal reasons. Do what you will to Foltest, and whoever will try to protect him, but I want you to bring me the girl. Alive. We need her as leverage. Whatever price you wish, we shall grant."
Letho was silent for a moment when he thinks on this, "keep what you have. The deal still remains. I will bring you the princess."
Unknown to the Woodland Fox, the presence of princess Aemma Targaryen had also become personal to the witcher.
--------------somewhere away from La Valette Castle---------
"How do you know me?" Aemma asks of the mage, "I...I don't remember us ever meeting before." "I wouldn't expect you to," Tris tells her, "you were just a baby. I met your mother when she first came to Kaer Morhen. I helped her through her labors when she fought to bring you to this world." "You...you helped deliver me as a newborn?" Aemma realizes, "but my mother...she came there on her own? Or was she forced to?" "What exactly were you told of your mother, Aemma?" Tris asks. Aemma looked away a bit before she answered, "my father...he used to tell me I was born on Dragonstone. My mother was later abducted by the witcher, by...by Geralt. He took her away from our family, and there was nothing father could do to bring her back."
Tris scoffed at that, something that didn't go unnoticed by Aemma. "Sorry," the mage says, "it's just...after seeing what your father was capable of, I have a hard time believing he couldn't have done anything to bring your mother back. Especially with the trouble and determination he had to take her away from Kaer Morhen the first time around." "He took me and my mother back to King's Landing from Kaer Morhen," Aemma says, "Vesemir told me, I uh, I found myself back at that place six years ago. I met the old man there, he's been training me with the sword and...he told me what happened when my father arrived on Caraxes. I...I want to know the truth, that's why I'm trying to find my mother, to rescue her from the Wild Hunt and hear the whole story from her."
"What do you know of the Wild Hunt?" Tris raises an eyebrow, wondering what a Westerosi would know of these beings that were considered Continental lore. "I...I've seen visions of them," Aemma explains, "I have this gift...it's similar to that one gift Ciri has." "Ciri?" "I've seen her in my visions," Aemma explains, "Ciri chasing after the Hunt. Vesemir also told me what happened to me, the spell, the one you used to subdue Ciri when she lost control of her powers."
Tris' eyes widen when she realized what happened, "Aemma, Ciri's gift...the spell, it must've transferred her powers to you." "I think so," Aemma confirms, "but it's not quite the same. I don't know why that is the case. That's why I wanted to find you. You were the sorceress who cast the spell, maybe you could tell me."
"I...it's been years, Aemma, but I shall do my best to find out what," Tris assures, "but with everything I have to do right now for King Foltest, it will have to wait. Until then, is there anything else you wish to know?" "The witcher," Aemma says, "he...why doesn't he remember my mother? How is that even possible?" "Geralt has amnesia," Tris explains, "he was abducted by the Wild Hunt along with your mother. He managed to escape, but it came at the cost of his memory. I've been working at trying to restore but...it's been difficult. He has dreams of the Wild Hunt every now and again, but nothing before that. I can't quite restore what isn't there, it's like trying to find a needle in a haystack."
Aemma sighed, "he's the only other person apart from my mother who could tell me the truth of my parent's relationship. I just want to know, I need to know for certain, without a doubt that everything my father told me was the truth...or all a lie." Tris placed a hand on Aemma's shoulder, "I don't exactly know what their relationship was," she admits, "but...I don't think it was a happy one, Aemma. When you find out, you may not like what you'll hear." Aemma looked to Tris, "you know something, do you?" "I...all I know is your mother was determined to get away from him," Tris says, sadness in her tone, "your father...it seemed he was dead set on keeping her close. A bird in a cage, you mother would say, that's how she felt when she was brought back to King's Landing or Dragonstone, or wherever in Westeros you father placed her."
Aemma felt her stomach turn, not wanting to believe it, not wanting to believe her father would treat her mother like that. But she knew her father could be quite possessive of what he felt belong to him. He didn't part with his possessions lightly, be it his dragon, his family, or anything that was part of the Valyrian ancestry.
"She did everything she could to come back to you," Tris tries to console, "she loved you very much. That's why she left in the first place." "Was...was she afraid my father would try and harm me?" "I don't know," Tris shakes her head, "I believe there may be more to this story then meets the eye, more then what your mother has chosen to disclose when she was still around."
Aemma stood up, "I need to talk to Geralt. When this conflict is over, you will help me?" "Yes," Tris nods, "I shall help you understand this gift you possess as well as help Geralt with his memory. We'll uncover the truth together." "One more thing," Aemma says, "My mother had a brother. I need to find him too, maybe he could provide insight to my parent's relationship." "Jaskier?" Tris realized, "Well last I checked, he was in some small fishing village in Aedirn. Once all this is over, I'll create a portal to take us there. You'll get to see your uncle again Aemma, I promise."
"Thank you, Tris." "It really was good to see you again, Aemma," the mage tells her, "I wish it was under different circumstances. You really do look so much like your mother. She would be proud to know what you have accomplished."
"I'll know for myself when I see her again," Aemma nods.
--------------------
Aemma walked out the portal Tris opened up for her, leading her to the monastery where Foltest had just received information on the whereabouts of his children. The king, Roche, and Geralt were about to head back to the castle when Aemma ran into them.
"You again," Foltest states. "I have no intention of attacking the witcher again, your Majesty," Aemma assures, "I only wish to speak with him." "You can do that once I have reunited with my children," Foltest assures, "until then, he stays with me." 
Before any protests could be made, the gold dragon that attacked them previously and had abducted Aemma had returned, swooping down, separating Roche from the rest of the group. Geralt helped Foltest to cross the bridge as the dragon chased them down. Aemma ran up and pulled her sword out to confront the dragon. The dragon surprisingly stopped in its tracks. "Lykiri, zaldritzes, lykiri!" Aemma speaks, not sure if she could even command this dragon, or if the dragon even understood her. The dragon stood its ground, merely staring at Aemma. Perhaps it did understand her. "Jikagon qrīdrughagon!" Aemma demands, feeling a little more confident, "Jikagon qrīdrughagon! Henujagon īlva mērī! (Go away! Leave us alone!)"
"Is she actually speaking to the dragon?" Foltest looked back, "Fuck me, Roche was right about her lot. Inbred dragon tamers, they are."
The dragon stared, then it growled, and charged once again. Aemma turned and ran, knowing it was not a good idea to reason with this dragon anymore. She ran to the end of the bridge and jumped through the door. The dragon tried to grab her again, but Geralt stepped in and stabbed the dragon, causing it to pull away, and the door closed. The dragon fled, roaring in agony as it did so.
"You saved my life," Foltest says, "both of you." "I was only vying for time, your Majesty," Aemma insists. "That language you were speaking to the dragon," the king says, "What was it?" "Valyrian," Aemma answers, "the language of my ancestors." Foltest nods and gestures for her and the witcher to follow.
Aemma kept her eyes on Geralt during this time. "How much do you remember of my mother?" she questions. "I...I see visions every now and again of (y/n)...her and the Wild Hunt." "Tris told me," Aemma nods, "she said she's trying to restore your memory. Can you promise me something then?" "What is it?" Once you remember...when you remember my mother. I want you to tell me everything. I need to know the truth. About you, about her...and about her relationship with my father. I don't want anything to be held back." "...I promise then...princess Aemma," Geralt nods.
Aemma still held on to some hope that her mother and father were happy together, but if what Tris told her was the truth, and if Geralt was the one who tried to help her mother get away...
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of children playing and laughing, seemingly blissfully unaware of what had just occurred outside.
Twins, they were, Boussy and Anais. Foltest's children by the Baroness La Valette.
The children stopped playing the moment they see the king along with Geralt and Aemma. They run to hide behind another man that was present, a blind monk by the looks of it. Foltest has Geralt and Aemma stay behind so the man could greet his children without scaring them. Anais was first to approach, running to her father and embracing him. Boussy was a little more hesitant, but the monk insisted and the boy approached the king as well.
"What exactly is their relationship?" Aemma asks, feeling curious. "They're Foltest's children by the baron La Valette's wife," Geralt tells her, "the Baroness and Foltest had...some kind of disagreement between them, hence the reason for this civil war." "She was married to another man?" Aemma realized, "so they're...oh." "Foltest has already declared them legitimate," Geralt tells her, "he hopes his son will succeed as king someday."
Aemma felt glad that was the case; being bastard born herself, she could relate somewhat to the situation. Her own father was married when her mother and him coupled and conceived her in the process after all. She could only hope they won't be treated as pariahs, that the king will protect these two from slander as her uncle protected her cousin's sons.
It may have been Aemma's imagination, but when she saw the monk look up, she almost thought he was looking towards her specifically. She brushed it out of her mind when Foltest sent his children to the other room, insisting Boussy wash his face so the others outside won't see that the boy had been crying; he is to be a king after all, and kings don't cry.
Once the children were out of sight, the monk placed a hand on Foltest's shoulder, "Sire, let us pray." "They must look like the royal children that they are," Foltest insists as he walks past the monk. "Hmmm...they have your eyes sire," the monk whispers as he removes the wrappings around his eyes to reveal the gold irises that were similar to Geralt's.
Aemma walk to approach the king, hoping he would give the order to dismiss Geralt so she and him could talk properly over what he did remember. But little did she know, the monk snuck up on her from behind and covered her mouth and nose with a chloroform soaked cloth, causing her to pass out. "Apologies, princess," the monk, who was actually Letho in disguise says as he approaches the king, "this has become personal."
It all happened so quickly. The tall, bulky witcher pulled out his dagger and slit Foltest's throat, blood spilling out. Geralt ran over, having realized earlier that the monk was actually an assassin, but it was too late. The deed was done. Letho threw the king's body at Geralt before he pulled off his monk robes and grabbed an unconscious Aemma, slinging her over his shoulder.
Geralt ran after the man, but Letho jumped over a window and seemingly fall to his death. Geralt stood at the window, seeing no signs of Letho or Aemma down below, it was almost like they disappeared.
Geralt then ran to see to Foltest, who laid dead as the blood pooled around. The Temerian soldiers showed up, crossbows armed and pointed at Geralt, believing he was the one who committed this horrendous act. No way to escape, and no one to vouch for him, Geralt was left with no other option then to turn himself in.
-------------King's Landing: several weeks later-------------
Ivan read through the letter once more time before he translated for the Queen and the Hand:
To the King of the Seven Kingdoms across the Great Sea,
Your family's wrongdoings have gone on long enough these last twenty years. Twenty years of no peace, and no accountability. But that finally ends now. The Aen Seidhe call for justice for the dozens of brothers and sisters that were needlessly murder by dragon fire at the hands of Prince Daemon Targaryen.
We have one of your own in our custody, the princess Aemma Targaryen. She resides with the Scoia'tel in a secret encampment outside of Flotsam in Upper Aedirn. She remains unharmed and alive, and her maidenhead has not been defiled, and will remain this way for as long as we will it.
Produce us Prince Daemon, have him brought before us to confess his crimes and see to it that justice will finally be served and that our fallen brethren will at long last be put to rest. Only then shall we see fit to release the princess Aemma afterwards. You have two months to complete this task; should you delay, we shall have the princess brought back slowly in pieces. If you doubt our threats, you will find a lock of her hair attached to this letter, so you know we are telling the truth, for we know it is the dhione's nature to doubt the words of others.
Make haste, for some of my comrades wish to carry out justice already by silting Aemma's throat, and I cannot hold them back for much longer.
-Iorveth, Commander of the Scoia'tel
Chapter 38
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icharchivist · 7 months
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So if Siegfried's VA is coming on Granblue TV next week, pretty much everyone assumes we're getting a new Sieg unit. What are we hoping for, here? Fanservice and sexy? Strong and intimidating? Maybe showing off some fierce draconian power? I guess it's all sexy
Grand Sieg Real!!! Grand Sieg Real!!!
i don't know if it's what you really want to know since your ask is more lighthearted but here's what have been my thought process about it all and i've thought about it a lot for the past two years:
ever since Grand!Lancelot dropped in December 2021, we've known that they were going to release a set of Grand for each of the Dragon Knights.
Grands are given to some of the most important characters of the lore and of the game in general.
The Dragon Knights also are in a situation where they're popular and powerful, but their very first units (except for Vane) have been relegated to the Classic Draw, making them difficult to access for new players. It also means that their original kit has been outdated (though they still have their use)
So the idea of those Grands will be to be an upgrade on the Base Units, while taking into account their development so far, and also recapping the important parts of their lore.
It's why Grand!Lancelot recapped from the ground up everything we knew from Siegfried being framed to the crimes of Feendrache and the way Lancelot has grown from his blindly patriotic days.
Since the announcement of the Grand series for the Knights, only Lancelot and Percival have been released. it's also noteworthy that before the current rotation of knights, the last released unit was Halloween Vane, meaning that in the rotation, next one has to be Siegfried.
If they continue on the logic of replacing the base units, it will be an Earth Grand Unit for Siegfried.
What to expect from it? well, it just needs a look at the previous grands to have an idea.
Grand!Lancelot gave him an upgrade by connecting him to the Fairies of Feendrache, finally coming out from their slumbers and blessing their new champion.
Grand!Percival meanwhile got an upgrade thanks to Cath Palug, the guardian creature of the rulers of Wales, who has been set since BFAF with looking over the possible rulers of the nation and eventually give them the power to do so if they're considered worthy.
Their new arts came with an overhaul on their armors and also something that strengthen their current affiliation. Lancelot leaves behind the blue armor to embrace a white one as the leader of the White Dragons. Percival's armor meanwhile ends up upgraded with regal designs reminding of the coat of kings, strengthening as well his goal to become a worthy protective king. His uncap also strengthen this imagery by showing him as a leader of the people, while Lancelot is a little more "battle generic".
The conclusion to drive from it with Siegfried, which i had at the time and have been strengthened by the preview, is that Siegfried is also going to get a power up from a specific creature that will lead him to reevaluate himself.
So obviously, for his Grand to actually have the impact it needs, Siegfried's storyline must continue on the Draconian front.
in Siegfried's Fire unit, following the event of SIEGFRIED, the dragon blood has basically been consumming him and he's losing himself more and more and is currently in a situation of near death or losing his mind if he doesn't find a way to ease up Fafnir's blood. One of the theory mentioned in the FE as to how to save Siegfried's life, is that he has to connect with Fafnir in some way again. (we also know now, from Naoise's storyline, another draconian, than a positive relationship with the dragon you have the blood of in your vein can help you control this power).
So it's basically been set up for years that the next logical step in Siegfried's journey would be related to Fafnir and to his condition as a Draconian, and with the current Grand trend, it seems likely that this will be the core componant to his upgrade.
The newest event is called "The Dragon weep before Daybreak" and will feature discussion of the Sins of Feendrache. The sins of Feendrache are many, and one that is important is the way Fafnir has basically been used to poison the people of Feendrache for years due to Isabela's influence, after all. Moreover, any sins of Feendrache would imply unveiling Josef's past.
So i believe Siegfried will get his upgrade because he will be forced to confront Fafnir, in one way or another, and will come out of it with more power. I also believe that the past we'll unveil, probably even more regarding Josef, are going to break Siegfried to some level.
So what it means for Siegfried's Grand Unit:
-I think it's going to double down on the draconian angle. Since Fire!Siegfried we expect so, Fire!Naoise showed us how a proper feral draconian can evolve, and we know from gbvs that Granblue is leaning harder in harder on Siegfried being fully a draconian now. (besides, in Summer!Siegfried, a huge plot point is that the dragon blood almost drives him to insanity again and he still has to fight it and he wants to enjoy the last few moments he has with his friends for now)
-Which will probably mean that the uncap at least might be Feral and unhinged
-There's the possibility that the uncap also actually reflect his dynamic with Josef.
-I don't really think it'd be sexy for the sake of it being sexy, i think for such a big unit moment, they'll focus on the lore itself. I just hope that they remove his helmet for it bc looking at the concept art for Fire!Sieg, where he wasn't wearing the helmet while in the final art he does, is painful.
-Siegfried's theme colors are already Black and blue, so i think if change to his design, rather than color palette, it will be a design change like Percival had.
tldr So personally i believe it'll be strong and powerful, with a high chance of feral depending on how in control he will be, but nevertheless i do think the focus will be on the draconian aspect of his characterization, or eventually on his relationship with Josef.
and yeah i've been thinking about all of this since 2021 so i have many thoughts alright
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jupitersmoon167 · 1 year
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Original Character - Elina Spector
Full Name: Elina Abigail Spector-Grant el Faouly 
Faceclaim: Adelaide Kane
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“You may not love her, but she is your daughter, Spector.” 
Elina Spector, daughter of Marc Spector, his alter Steven Grant, and Layla el Faouly. On Earth 426 at least.
Conceived after the events of Season 1 of Moon Knight, and born shortly after, Elina had a relatively normal childhood. That is, if you ignored the elephant in the room. The elephant being that she could see Khonshu clear as day when she was just a baby. It was only until she was a toddler that the system and Layla knew she could see Khonshu, and found out about Jake and the system still being Khonshu’s avatar (and if I ever do write more about this character, more will be delved upon that whole bucket of worms).
Over the next few years, with a few bumps in the road here and there, the family was at peace. With Marc and Steven helping Layla care for their daughter, and Jake fulfilling his duties with Khonshu. He also made sure to see Elina every time he fronted, before he left for whatever duty Khonshu sent him out for (he also did this in secret before the system found out about his existence). However, he never saw the girl as his child, only as his niece, earning the name Tío Jake from Elina.
Everything seemed to be all and well, up until Elina was 12 years old. With this being a different dimension, the timeline would be different compared to the original MCU timeline. In this dimension, the events of Infinity War took place years after Moon Knight. And when Thanos snapped his fingers, he took half of all life in the universe, including Layla and the Moon Knight system. Even Khonshu’s healing could not stop them from turning to dust. Shortly after the snap, another major event occurred, leaving Elina to be one of the last few humans on Earth, with only Khonshu at her side, as he refused to leave the girl he saw as his granddaughter.
Two years pass by, and Elina officially becomes his avatar after she nearly dies. And over the next few years, she traverses the earth with Khonshu at her side. That is, until the Watcher appears, asking for her aid in defeating Infinity Ultron, becoming a Guardian of the Multiverse (as seen in the What If… series). After defeating the variant Ultron, Elina refuses to go back home to Earth 426, seeing as there’s nothing left of her home, and having lost hope that she could bring back her family. So, the Watcher entrusts her to look after America Chavez, a being able to traverse the Multiverse at will.
Over their travels, the two become good friends (even seeing each other as sisters), and Elina protects her to the best of her ability. At least until Wanda Maximoff of Earth 199999 targets America for her power. Long story short, Elina Spector and Khonshu are included in the events of Doctor Strange: Multiverse of Madness. After the events of the film, Stephen and Wong have Elina stay in Kamar-Taj, wanting to keep an eye on her (and Elina refusing to leave America).
All seems well. At least until the Khonshu of that Earth detects Elina’s presence. He sends Jake to find her, and dispose of her, believing that she’s posing as his avatar. And when Elina finds out that the Moon Knight of this Earth hunting her down, is none other than her uncle, she realizes she’s just made things a lot more complicated for the system.
“Is that your Dad?”
“… Kind of?”
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Playlist:
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shinkimarbles · 1 year
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First time publishing something here I am nervous ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ I like to experiment with a lot of characters - especially bad guys, so I decided to shed some light on our favourite antagonist Makarov, using my OC as the fuse. I am not a native english speaker, so forgive some typos, pleaseee? (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠)
!! Contains a lot of fanmade lore from AU!!
Dear reader, if you don't wish to read details about my OC, please skip ahead to Makarov's part that's coming out soon
The monster with human heart [PART 1]
Vladimir Makarov wages wars. Dirty, inhuman wars against all. His flames burning high and mighty, slipping thru soothing fingers of 141 since day 0.
But even he, the monster with a face of adult man, has one weakness - his out of wedlock daughter named Samantha. Ever since the day she came to be, he kept close eye on her. Yet never being next to her as she grew left everlasting bitterness in her heart. Every so often she asked her mother about him, demanding to know more with curious eyes and toothy grin. As this little daughter grew, so did her perception of reality - the urges of her mother always telling her to wear contacts and bright red hair to supress the mighty black that she inherited from father. However, she never asked. Life was good, going wayward leisurely - just Sam, her mother Evelyn with her girlfriend Maria. They were unconventional, at least for small USA town, yet somehow achieved the picture perfect life. Great white house with wrap around porch, near private lake that was secluded from the neighborhood with tall pine trees, wooden swing neatly tied to a massive branch. They were suprisingly well accepted, even in strictly christian area - maybe it was for Evelyn's kindness or Maria's lifelong servitude in military, that they quickly took liking to the family of three. Maria was often asked to help with household tasks, in range from simple light bulb exchange to chasing cows back to their habitat. Women often commended her to be much better than their ,,Old man,, whenever she'd happily come over to chit chat while putting together IKEA bed. While Evelyn, altought working on the ministry of defense, baked goods for all the neighborhood events. However, when it came to hands down who was the favourite member of the Reyes family, it was by all means little Samantha. Such a cheeky little chatterbox, with tendencies to always talk to elders and brightening up their days with sunshine. Her favourite people were the Allens - elderly couple with two sons, both only two years apart - unbeknownst to them, they'd one day become carriers of nickname ,,Roach,, and shape Sam for the rest of her life. Samantha often stopped by their place to talk, loving to listen to mister Allen's war stories, him being old veteran. Mrs Allen often indulged little girl in baking, always yearning for a daughter. Evelyn's and Maria's house was always tidy, cozy and smelling like vanilla cookies, roses and cinnamon. Her room was the biggest - sitting right under the roof, with big circular window and pretty little toys scattered on the floor. It was her safe haven, kingdom of sorts where she could play knights and princesses. This was her life, and she was happy. Even without Makarov's influence or money. Almost seven years passed and she was nine.
"I love you, my little princess." Her mother coos each and every night, kissing her head gently. Curious little girl opens her sparkling eyes, each of different color - another trait She inherited, rare heterochromia. "I love you too mommy." Yawn followed. "Samantha Reyes, you're one hell of a liar!" Voice broke out from the other side of the door, making the girl chuckle. "I love you too, Auntie Maria." Little did she know this is the last time they were together. School just ended and summer break rolled over, they were planning to travel to California in two weeks, everything was ready and reserved - hotel, car rental, itinerary - They planned to introduce Samantha to Maria's parents in person and she spent weeks on trying to paint the prettiest pictures to gift them. The two women sat down on her bedside, craddling her into their arms as they sung to her, until her bi-colored eyes shut with soft snoring escaping her lips. "Woah, that was fast." Maria whispered, getting up, letting Evelyn leave first before closing the door. "Yeah, she celebrated with the Allens and went by the lake, screaming and shouting and dancing..." Both snorted. Maria threw her hand over Evelyn's shoulder. They rarely caught break in between their jobs, juggling raising a young child on top of high class assigments. "She's nothing like him." Said Maria, looking at her beloved. Evelyn never liked to adress Makarov's existence, whatever was between them was in the past, Samantha was her daughter and she'd do anything to protect that innocence. "She's a kind, loving soul Maria. She's ours." Cupping her cheeks. "I Always loved how you took Sammy as your daughter, never asking questions. Remember how proud u sounded on that parent meeting?" Maria giggled. "Ah, yes! They were terrified!" Both women walked downstairs, sitting on faintly lit porch with singular glasses of red wine. "I wish this moment lasted forever." Evelyn sighed, dipping her full lips into the glass. Suddenly, air was filled with loud ,,Yuck!,, As she bawled her eyes at the wine. "Oh god, is it that bad?" Maria asked, curious. "No, I swallowed a fly-!" Echoed right after. Both bursted into heartfelt laughter. "You're So extra, my dear!" After a minute, silence fell as the red haired mother of one sighed heavily. "I am scared." Maria reacted immediately, grabbing her hand. Sam's birthday was always dreaded, fearing Makarov might strike. So this year, they decided to take a break and travel across USA. "Don't worry, soon we will be bathing in ocean and laughing at my pops' jokes. Sam will be fine. You will be fine."
The two shared a kiss.
As they sat, with absent minded smiles, they knew somewhere deep inside that they might not make it to California.
Morning rolled around. Except it was dead silent. The bed was cold. Evelyn rolled around, patting the empty left side, as she sat up briskly. "Huh-?" Maria was often a late sleeper while off duty. She knew something was off, as she reached under her bedside table, grabbing onto the magnum hidden underneath. Softly, she walked down the stairs, when she caught onto faint sounds. "Fuck." She exclaimed, as she walked down the stairs. "Mommy?" Sam called out to her from the kitchen and she let out sigh of relief, hiding the gun behind her back as she noticed her daughter isn't alone. Garry, the younger son of the Allens, stood by the kitchen sink, washing off a bowl full of wheat. He perked up. "Good morning mrs. Reyes!" Evelyn laughed. "Good grief, the kitchen looks like crime scene!" She smiled at them. Sam, arguably looking like Puffer fish whined. "Mooom, we were trying to suprise you!" Stomping her little feet. Evelyn walked up to Garry, ruffling his hair. "Okay Okay, i'll pretend i didn't see anything if you tell me where aunt Maria is." Samantha didn't even look up to her as she exclaimed: "I don't know, she left early. I saw her getting into the biiig car with her hero knight gear." Evelyn paused. Only Sam, with her childlike wonder called tactical military gear ,,hero knight,,. Garry, being thirteen at the time had much better grasp on the severity of Maria's work. His voice went silent as he said: "I was coming over with the recipe you asked my mom for, I saw her leave with some officer after they argued for a while." It couldn't be anyone else but Zack, her second in command. Evelyn felt like her heart's gonna burst. "Mrs. Reyes?" Garry asked, carefully as not to disrupt her toughts. Redhead put on brave face. She briskly walked over to small closet, pulling out her wallet as she handed 300 dolars to young Allen. "Garry, you're a big boy. Could u do me a favour?" She smiled, placing the money into his pocket. "Would you take Sam out? Go to the fair, buy ice cream - whatever you two want. Just please, stay with her. When you come back, go straight to your house. Don't come back here until I do." Garry seemed rather frightened, but nodded. "Is something wrong?" He asked. Evelyn tried to reassure him, but could see the boy's expression very well reflected hers. "No, it's just a little issue at worm, Sam doesn't have to worry about. I will even it out with your folks when I come back." Then she raised her voice again. "Sam, please to pack your backpack, Garry will take you out, yeah?" Samantha excitedly left the dough alone, sprinting upstairs. She was too young and careless to be bothered by them leaving the house. Who could blame her?
Allens lived across the street, Evelyn brought the kids over with a hurry, basically giving them both to mrs. Allen as she opened the door. "Could you please guard Sam? I am So sorry to disturb you, but I have emergency at work and Maria also had to leave. And-" Mrs. Allen stopped her with a nod. "Of course, i was just about to bake a pie, I am sure Sam would like to help out?" Sam vigorously agreed, running past mrs. Allen laughing. "I'll help to!" Garry blurted out, brushing past.
Had Samantha knew she has little to no time left with her mother, she'd hug her a little tighter. "Thank you." Evelyn whispered, Mrs. Allen silently knew something was amiss. "We're friends dear, I am here for you." The women exchanged soft smiles as Evelyn ran to her car, hopping in as if it was to run away from hell.
Samantha spent the day with Allens, the boys took her to the arcades, played Spyro on their PlayStation with her and for once didn't grumpily refuse to play dress up. Garry told his older brother Joseph, He was in high school, usually not giving a damn about their silly games, but today he silently stuck to his sibling as if it changed anything. Mr. Allen was putting on some meat to grill that evening, singing with old songs on his radio, as his wife walked out of the kitchen. "It's gonna piss all night." She laughed, looking at evil like clouds. "Aye, good old storm. Call the kiddos, it's bloody hot to stay home playing games all evening." They were simple people, average family with two kids - a veteran, who now worked as a teacher and a office assistant for a CEO of electronics manufacturer. "Dear, let them be." She smiled softly. "Ah you, the kids will be spoiled rotten." Their conversation was shut out by Joseph coming down. "Mom?" He said silently. "What's the matter honey?" She asked as he approached, throwing himself into a hug. She was worried, was this even her teen son? "Nothing, I just wanted to hug you." He murmured. "Okay, that's lovely." She pinched his cheek. "Call the others, the dinner's almost ready." Joseph obliged without any further ado and walked back, yelling for Garry and Sam. The five of them sat and ate, listened to songs, sung and laughed, until all they heard was roaring thunder. They stayed down in the living room, watching TV into late night hours. Garry and Joseph sat on the couch, with the younger one drifting to sleep. Mr. Allen read a book by dim candle light and his wife crotcheted yet another sweater for colder season. Suprisingly, Sam was awake. Joseph borrowed her some of his Daredevil comics, it could entertain her for hours. But even she became a little homesick. It was close to eleven, when knock came. It was faint, but hasn't it been for roaring engine and sound of brakes hitting their limit, the Allens wouldn't bat an eye to it. "Mommy?" Sam jumped up. Mrs. Allen got up to unlock the door, staying terrified and shocked when she saw Evelyn. She was wet, rain dripping down her face, smearing her mascara all over. Her white blouse had dark stains on it. Behind her? Her beautiful Alfa Romeo, thrown diagonally, blocking the road. "Sam!" Was all she said as she picked up her daughter. Allens didn't ask a thing. They didn't ask her to re- park her car either. They just watched her as she walked away with her daughter, who still held onto the comic. "Mommy?" Sam asked. "Yes dear?" Evelyn replied. "Why did you park the car like that? Where's Auntie?" Evelyn sobbed into the sound of pounding rain, followed by her daughter just putting her head on her shoulder. "Can I stay with you in your room?" Evelyn kissed her softly. When they got home, She locked the doors. And as they laid down to sleep, she sat next to her sleeping daughter awake. Her heart breaking with every second. She stroked small circles into her back. Just like Maria used to. So much transpired. It was just a moment as she stood behind the glass, watching Maria fight for her life in the emergency room, not responding to direct cpr performed by medical staff. The wounds were too several, she was gone in four minutes. Evelyn found her bleeding, gunshot wound. The men that attacked her and Zack, the same men they confronted today on their own were already dead. Zack was comatose, Maria barely breathing. She lost love of her life, her wife, her soulmate. And couldn't bring herself to tell the selfless young girl, that her own father had her killed.
Evelyn got up, packed all she could. Weaponry, money, passports. By the time Samantha woke up on the backseat of their car, it was already 10 AM, and their old house was a faint memory. "Mom? Where we're going?" She asked, looking around. Evelyn didn't look her way. "For a little suprise trip!" She tried to sound as cheerful, determination keeping her alive thru it. The long road was looping around thick pine forests, making it hard to see past the treeline. "Where's auntie?" That single question made Evelyn loose focus, it was a fraction of moment as the black landrover drove right to them, pushing them off the road. Sam screamed loudly, she wasn't buckled in, hitting her shoulder on the car window as it spun out of control. Evelyn was first to get out, grabbing shotgun and her daughter. Nothing else mattered but her life. She knew that the car had it calculated, the men weren't to kill them, but to capture them. They weren't russians, they were simply working for Makarov. Led by young soldier, he was twenty, maybe twenty one. Blunt as a stunt weapons, unphased by her aiming at him. "Put it down Evelyn. You're outgunned. Hand us the child and you may live another day." He stated. Evelyn growled. "Fucking no. He's not getting Samantha." The soldier walked down to her. Sam closing her eyes, holding tightly. "Mom!" She cried out. "It's Okay darling, mom's got you." She pushed her behind herself. "Don't make it hard for yourself, Makarov wants you alive." He exclaimed. Evelyn knew the gun wasn't loaded, yet she stood her ground, vigorously aiming at young man who dared to step to her.
"Grab the girl, she's bluffing." He said, giving signal to his men who charged at them, Evelyn just barely hitting the two of them with the shotgun's iron part, until the leader stepped in. He was much stronger, the fight getting cut short as he hit her from behind, folding her like nothing. "Mommy!" Samantha yelled, getting grabbed on by two men. "Get them into the car." Soldier ordered, turning to walk back to their rover. "Get rid of the evidence."
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silvanils · 2 years
Note
hey Knight! for some fluffy serault freeform (maybe) this Friday, maybe something about the literal warmest moment of the marquis' childhood?
@dadrunkwriting​
Because of reasons, it’s not ENTIRELY fluffy... and it’s set at the very tail end of what Mouse would consider his childhood, but I had a lot of fun working on it!
Rating: G Word count: just over 1,100 words.
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Summers in Serault were warm, not hot. The winds seldom went still long enough for the air to grow heavy and humid, except during the “dog days” in the middle of Solace, when old superstitions claimed the White Wolf himself held the winds back.
Mouse wasn’t sure he believed that particular superstition, but… confined to the castle as he was, he could find no true reprieve from the heat. Even after stripping down to only a pair of shorts and a thin silk robe, he still felt like he was going to burn up.
Through the open window, he thought he could hear the distant sound of laughter. Splashing. Just last year, he and Cat had spent these days playing in the rivers and (at Cat’s insistence) the very edges of the shade-filled woods.
This year was different, though.
They had turned thirteen in the spring — which made them too old to be considered children any longer, at least according to the Rules of the Court. They were expected to wear masks any time they were in public, now, not just at formal events.
Even their lessons had been expanded. Both twins were expected to be able to run the province smoothly in the future, so they were being taught how to rule Serault and defend her borders — though Mouse skipped his combat lessons as often as he could, usually by swapping places with Cat so she could sneak in extra practice while he ducked off to his favorite hiding place to read.
He was there now, curled up in the window-nook of the Tilted Tower. It looked over the river that cut between Serault Town and the forest. There was a section near the square that he could see was full of people — swaying like a great tide themselves.
Mouse sighed, pressing his head against the cool stone. If only, if only.
“Would the little Mouse like a little time out in the sun?”
The voice startled Mouse, making him jump a little — but of course he immediately recognized the young Bard even before he turned to face him. He looked dangerous, now, with sharp daggers strapped to his thighs and tight leather armor… not to mention the stupid smirk he was wearing as he pinched one side of his little mustache, if the sparse line of hair on his upper lip could even be considered one.
Mouse huffed as he turned away. “I can’t go out,” he said. “I’m…”
Not sick, not really — the lie his family had been telling stuck in his throat as sure as any cough, though, and tasted as bitter as the apples from the woods. They should have just sent for the Templars, Mouse thought. Keeping me locked away here is no better.
The Bard tsked softly, his tongue clicking against his teeth. “Not well? So I’ve heard. I’m led to believe your affliction isn’t contagious, however… and your sister insists that you join us for a picnic today, by the river.”
His footsteps made as little noise as a cat’s paws as he crept closer, but Mouse ignored him until he felt a hand gently grasp his shoulder.
“So, fancy a little mischief?”
Mouse’s cheeks felt like they were burning, and his face only grew hotter when he realized he’d been caught without his mask on. Stupid, stupid. As if the Bard would care. “Mother will be furious if she finds out — ”
“If she finds out,” the Bard repeated, grinning as he offered Mouse his hand. “I promise to take full responsibility.”
“Alright, then,” Mouse said, smiling as the Bard helped him stand. “I’ll come.”
.
Cat had set the picnic up beneath a tree on the western bank of the river. The elfroot that grew around it’s roots fluttered in the wind, glinting slightly in the sunlight. Mouse noticed she had forgone her mask for this outing as well, but she did wear a light dusting of powder around her eyes.
“Took you long enough,” she said, arching an eyebrow.
“There were guards to avoid,” the Bard said, smoothly moving to lounge beside her on the blanket. “I had no trouble slipping by them on my own, but your brother’s stealth skills could use a bit more work. He tripped once, nearly went tumbling out in front of a patrol!”
“Perhaps he should skip fewer hunting lessons,” Cat said, flashing him a knowing grin. “At least he had you there to rescue him. Again.”
Mouse wished he could dart behind something and hide. He felt like he was on fire, and the sun-heated air was not helping. Belatedly, he realized exactly where Cat had set up the picnic — this was, in fact, what they had dubbed the Tallest Tree. Three summers ago, Mouse had tried to climb all the way up it’s great trunk, higher and higher, hoping he could see past the Greenwood and catch a glimpse of the Deep…
He’d gotten stuck, though, when a branch had poked right through his shirt. The Kindly Knight’s nephew (now known better as the Bard) had been the one to sneak up and untangle him from the tree’s clutches. Mouse had never felt so flustered in his life, and Cat would never let him forget about it.
Especially because she knew why —
“Mouse? Are you feeling alright?” The Bard asked, a hint of genuine concern in his voice, though his expression was infuriatingly unreadable beneath his mask. “Perhaps this excursion was too much for him, Cat? He seems a bit overwhelmed.”
Mouse huffed and took a seat, plucking an orange out of the picnic basket. He tore away the bitter peel to get at the juicy flesh. “I’m not made of glass,” he spat out. “I’m tired of being treated like some… delicate… thing!”
As he bit into the fruit, he glared at both of them. Cat was still grinning, but the Bard’s mouth hung open in stunned silence. Good. He wiped his mouth off. His cheeks still felt like they might turn to ash any minute. “I’m no different than I was before,” he finally said, quieter. “You should both know that.”
The Bard sat up, studying Mouse. Quietly, he reached up to shift his mask away from his warm, walnut-brown eyes. “Mon douce petite Souris,” he sighed. “You’re right, I do know better.”
.
They went swimming, after, in the tree’s shade. They dried off quickly in the heat, though it would be impossible to pretend they had not both spent the day out: their hair was tangled and full of river-plants, their skin still hot and reddened by the sun. Mouse didn’t care, though. To have made such wonderful, happy memories…
That was worth any trouble that came later.
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growtharkmedia-1 · 6 months
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Capturing Memories in the City of Dreams: Event Videographers in Dubai
Dubai, the dazzling gem of the United Arab Emirates, is a city that never sleeps. Known for its opulence, modern architecture, and a vibrant mix of cultures, it's no wonder that Dubai is a top destination for grand events and celebrations. From luxurious weddings to high-profile corporate gatherings, capturing these moments is of paramount importance. This is where event videographers in Dubai come into play. In this blog, we'll explore the world of event videographers in Dubai and showcase some of the city's finest professionals who turn special moments into timeless memories.
The Importance of Event Videography
Events in Dubai are nothing short of spectacular, and hiring a skilled event videographer is essential for a number of reasons:
Preserving Memories: Event videographers have the ability to capture not just the visuals, but also the emotions and essence of an event. Whether it's a wedding, a product launch, or a gala dinner, they ensure that these moments are preserved for a lifetime.
High Quality: Dubai's extravagant events demand nothing but the best. Professional videographers use top-notch equipment and have the expertise to provide high-quality videos that meet the city's high standards.
Global Reach: Dubai is a global hub, and its events often attract an international audience. A well-crafted video can be shared with a worldwide audience, making it a powerful marketing tool.
Creative Storytelling: Skilled videographers know how to tell a compelling story through their lens. They can turn an event into a captivating narrative, which can be shared on social media or other platforms to engage the audience.
Top Event Videographers in Dubai
Now, let's take a closer look at some of the top event videographers in Dubai who have gained recognition for their exceptional work:
Melrish Studios: Known for their cinematic approach to event videography, Melrish Studios is a name synonymous with creativity and excellence. They have a knack for capturing emotions in the most beautiful way possible.
Beyond The Lens: Beyond The Lens specializes in wedding videography, turning your special day into a fairy tale. Their videos are like love stories come to life, filled with heartwarming moments.
Film District Dubai: This team of videographers is renowned for their versatility. From weddings to corporate events, they excel in crafting compelling stories. They understand the power of visuals and storytelling.
Blink Production: For corporate events, Blink Production is a go-to choice. They have worked with numerous multinational companies, providing high-quality videos that leave a lasting impact.
White Knight Video Productions: If you're looking for creativity and attention to detail, White Knight Video Productions is a great option. Their work reflects the grandeur and elegance that Dubai is known for.
The Future of Event Videography in Dubai
Dubai continues to be a hub for grand events, and the demand for skilled event videographers is only expected to rise. With the latest technology and creative techniques, videographers in the city are pushing the boundaries of what's possible.
As events become more intricate and extravagant, the role of event videographers in Dubai becomes even more critical. They not only document these events but also contribute to their grandeur by turning them into unforgettable experiences through the art of videography.
Conclusion
Event videography in Dubai is an art form that has gained significant recognition in recent years. With an influx of grand events in the city, the demand for skilled event videographers has never been higher. These professionals are capturing the heart and soul of Dubai's celebrations, ensuring that they are etched in our memories forever. The top event videographers in Dubai have mastered the craft of storytelling through their lens, making them indispensable for any event in this dynamic city. As Dubai continues to evolve and host extraordinary events, event videographers will remain at the forefront of preserving and sharing these magical moments with the world.
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