#Sixteen Ways to Defend a Walled City | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lessi-lover · 4 months ago

Text

to love and be loved II l.williamson x reader

★ to love and be loved II l.williamson x reader

"babe? i'm home!" you yelled through the front hallway, pushing the door closed with your elbow as you struggled to get through the door with all your bags. you were exhausted as you trudged towards the kitchen, your feet weighing down as you dragged your heavy suitcase across the rug adorning the floor.

you hooked your keys over the rack leaning on the wall, a gentle grimace washing across your face as you heard your neighbours kids shouting over the fence which did nothing to sooth your headache.

having to drive up north to be with your best friend whilst she underwent surgery definitely wasn't your ideal start to your break. but you'd made the decision that driving up to be with her whilst her family were living overseas was important, even if it meant missing the last game of your season and by addition the first few days of your break.

the girl had practically been your sister growing up, both your moms attached at the hip from the second they had met and it wasn't any different when their two daughters were coincidently born in the same year.

the holidays during the summer that your families shared would never be forgotten and the memories with them. as a teenager you swore you saw them so much they were easily like family and in the way they supported you throughout your career you could say they felt a part of your own.

washed up feelings of the emotional baggage from the season had endlessly flooded you over the last few weeks and consumed you whole, so allowing yourself to be in the presence of your childhood best friend was a good distraction in itself.

in the days that followed the surgery you were able to spend your leftover time seeing many of your old friends from your sunderland days as you could and getting back in touch with your family that you hadn't exactly been able to properly talk to over the last weeks of the season.

and although you enjoyed your time up north and getting a feel for the city again, you really did miss girlfriend as much as you wouldn't admit to the blonde. the countless calls at horrible hours just wasn't enough to keep you both settled as you tried to communicate with her across the country. and whilst you enjoyed your visit back home, you couldn't wait to be back in the blondes arms again.

leah was clearly your safety blanket and had been ever since you two made it official before your first match for arsenal, the defender having been eyeing you since you had been in the younger age groups way back when she was little.

you and your wife leah had started out your relationship as just close friends, then into best friends and eventually into lovers. meeting through the youth groups for arsenal you eventually confessed your feelings for each other at only sixteen and leah freshly seventeen.

unfortunately you only explored your more intimate relationship for a couple of months before you went down to sunderland fc to get more game time as you felt like playing at arsenal was not helping you to reach your full potential as an young athlete and rather hindering you.

leah had been supportive of your decision to seek more playing time at sunderland fc from the moment you told her, understanding that your ambition to grow as a player and as a person was bigger how much you loved arsenal.

but as soon as you made your return back to your childhood club after only a season, the blonde immediately welcomed you back with open arms and despite the time apart, your bond with leah remained strong even with the distance between you.

you both realized how much you had missed each other during those months apart, and you realised how much you needed leah in your life and vice versa.

she could see how much more confidence you had gained during your time at sunderland, your playing style much more refined and more aggressive in different ways. she couldn't wait for you to come home to be with her again.

from then on leah vowed to be there for you as much as you let her, always having seemingly knowing exactly what you needed as soon as it felt needed.

from making you coffee when you had a particularly grueling day, offering advice or words of encouragement if she felt you wanted, pulling you close when her words were not enough to soothe you, or even sacrificing her golfing sundays when you decided it was the perfect weather for a shopping day, even if all the blonde did was hold your countless bags.

you were utterly exhausted from the drive back home and before you could even push away the loose strand that had fallen in front of your eyes, a hand reached up for you and instead you were met with your girlfriend in front of you.

"well hello there gorgeous." the defender breathed out, you all but happily smiled as you threw yourself into her arms, sighing contently as the familiar scent of the blonde washed easily over you.

"hi leah baby." you said with a smile, taking note of her trackies and slightly damp hair that she had carelessly thrown up, long blonde strands falling at the sides of her face from her grown out bangs.

"leah!" you laughed as suddenly as the english captains toned arms had wrapped around your waist, pulling you off the ground and into the air. "let me dow-." she interrupts your squeal with a short kiss, gently lowering you down to the floor.

you melted into her touch as her thumbs dug into the side of your hips, kisses placed beneath you ear as she slotted her body into you own and her arms wrapped around your waist.

"baby girl i missed you too much." she exhaled, yourself tugging the taller girl down into a kiss as she charmingly let her hands drop lower to your behind.

"missed you more." you teased, stealing another kiss as you finally let your shoulders drop in ease. "impossible, darling girl." she chuckled, once again locking lips with yours. the blonde pressed her forehead to yours, the tip of her nose tucking into your face.

she brushed her lips across the corner of your lips and slipped her hands into yours smiling against your skin. "i love you so much." she whispered, cradling your head against her neck. you laughed pushing her away as she gave you her most endearing grin.

"i love you too leah." you sent a grin, rolling your eyes as the brit distracted you with a quick kiss and grabbed your bags from behind you. "pleaser you are." you laughed, referring to how she left you nothing of your own bags to carry yourself.

"what? can't help my wife after she comes back from a long trip overseas! quite rude you denying my services, they aren't reserved for just anyone y'know?" she grinned, adjusting the bags to grab your hand as she pulled you inside.

the blonde pulled you through the entry of your house and you felt your body feel lighter as you inhaled the familiar scent of home, you noticed that your girlfriend had lit a candle in the kitchen as you walked through.

"baby i know you're knackered and all you want to do is go to cuddle in bed, but i may have invited some the girls for dinner cause it's our turn to host?" she said with a guilty smile, her laugh running through as you whined you were tired.

"and i'm going to do something about it just hold on!" your girlfriend continued, lifting her finger in the air as she walked backwards into the lounge room. "baby!" you yelled out, frowning as you were rewarded with no response.

you slid your shoes off by the door, an amused smile on your lips as the new side table you had asked leah to unpack hadn't moved an inch since it arrived.

you chuckled to yourself, watching as your girlfriend frantically tapped her phone, most likely texting many of your friends to cancel the plans.

"leah i don't mind if the girls come over, i'm not even feeling that bad to be honest." you smiled, now a little more awake as the blonde paced sat up.

"are you sure love?" she asked worriedly, pulling you into her lap as she slumped her body against yours. "very sure, baby." you answered, your thumb tracing the edge of her jaw as the blonde cheekily dug her hands into your waist.

you were completely out of it even as your friends entered your home, many of them having brought small dishes in return for the hospitality. you didn't even lift your head up from the couch when beth called hello to you as she strutted in with her arm linked with steph.

"well hello sleepy girl." beth teased, looking down at you as you snuggled further into your wife's body that had replaced the pillow you were resting on before, the english woman a much more suitable pillow in your opinion.

you managed to offer the loud blonde a drowsy smile, your eyelids heavy as you tried to muster the energy to greet her properly. "hey beth. hey steph," you murmured, your eyes shutting almost immediately after.

leah chuckled softly as well as your friends, dipping down to press a tender kiss to your forehead and tangling her hand in your hair to gently massage your scalp. "they brought some food, love," leah whispers you lightly in your hair.

"you want to have a bite, or would you rather rest a bit longer?" she questioned, her hand moving to swipe affectionately across your cheek. "i think i'm okay here lee lee." you mumbled, body barely moving only to shift up further onto the blonde's lap as she tucked you in closer to her chest.

"alright my love," she smiled as she felt you exhale deeply into her neck. the skipper watched as you tried to rest soundly over her, admiring your red flushed cheeks, disheveled hair that fell over her chest and the feeling of your cold puffs of air escaping your lips that hit her skin as you slept.

"baby you can go to sleep upstairs if you want?" leah whispered, shuffling herself impossibly close to you as she watched you shake your head with a clearly heavily exhausted look on your face.

"love you look shattered. i'll even carry you up!" she offered, but again you shook your head. the blonde sighing but lazily pecking the top of your hair a couple times as your friends left you in your own comfort on the sofa and instead attended to your kitchen to give you some time together.

"fine. but don't fall asleep on the couch! keep givin' yourself back problems woman." she warned you, her cold hands tucking underneath your hoodie to hold you tightly against her body.

it was within minutes that your breathing eventually evened out and you were fast asleep, just as leah had suspected you would. the blonde looked down at you, shaking her head with a fond smile. "silly girl," she murmured, gently shifting you off her lap and standing up.

carefully, she slipped her arms under you and lifted you effortlessly, her muscles easily handling your weight as she adjusted you into her hold. "off to bed baby girl." she whispered to herself as she carried you up the stairs, your head resting against her shoulder.

"wife duties williamson." katie jeered as she watched her teammate move with you resting in her arms towards the stairs. leah silencing them with a finger pressed firmly to her mouth before the irish woman's joke caught wind and your friends made enough noise to wake you up.

once in your bedroom, leah gently laid you down on the bed, tucking you under the covers and lifting up the blanket she knew you loved up to your chin. she placed a soft kiss on your forehead before straightening up.

"stay lee. can't sleep without you." she heard you say sleepily, even whilst asleep you managed to hold all of the blonde's attention with a few words.

leah smiled, pulling off her shoes and slipping into bed beside you. "of course my love," she whispered. her thighs pressing against your own as she seemingly curled herself into your sleeping form, rewarding you with a kiss to the side of your jaw.

"i love you my girl." she confessed, allowing you to tuck yourself into her neck as you fell asleep against her, exactly the way she liked it.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #woso blurbs #leah williamson #woso fanfics #woso #leah williamson imagine

744 notes · View notes

dejwrld · 1 year ago

Text

˚₊𓆩༺🎸༻𓆪₊˚ — summer of 22', choso kamo

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈. — WHO THE HELL LISTENS TO CLASSICAL MUSIC?

ᩍ before reading please be advised of the following warnings — female reader, written with black reader in mind, humor/crack, noritoshi & choso are cousins in this cause i said so, profanity, this is quite self indulgent and kinda my own assumption & characterization of modern day choso, mentions of choso having a scar, mentions of character death (reader's mom), record shop boss!geto lol, two idiots that bond over music | mdni, taglist, masterlist, other creations

chapter playlist | are you with that by vince staples, wait a minute by willo, the less i know the better by tame impala

JAPAN WAS VERY DIFFERENT FROM THE STATES. A huge cultural shock compared to your busy lifestyle in New York City. You still could remember your father’s long lecture about being aware of your surroundings, don’t talk to strangers, going with your instincts in some locations, and so much more. You would think you were still that young sixteen-year-old girl who was raised by their single dad after the death of her mother, but you were of age. In the fall you would be a graduating senior at Julliard, living alone in a lovely apartment in New York City, teaching dance classes when you had free time, and doing many adult types of activities. You were a functioning young adult whose father still wanted to shelter you away from the world as if you were a hopeless Rapunzel.

It took some convincing for your father to let you go to a ballet convention in Japan for the summer, especially if he was going to be funding it. You planned to rent out a room, get as much knowledge as possible at this convention so you could be prepared for your senior year at Julliard, and then return home. Your father didn’t agree with that plan. He only agreed when your godmother Utahime Iori agreed to keep an eye on you.

Utahime Iori was an international ballet superstar and your late mom’s best friend. They met when they both were competing for the lead in Swan Lake, which was given to your mom. But your mother stepped down from the role when she became pregnant with you. The friendship between the two still blossomed from your mom being in the front row on the opening night to cheer Utahime on to your mom even keying Utahime’s boyfriend's car while six months pregnant with you. Utahime would always admit to you that your mom felt like she was her twin flame. They were insufferable when they were apart and together. Such a close bond and your mom’s death took a toll on Utahime. It hit her like a truck hitting a concrete wall at full speed. It sucked Utahime’s love for ballet right away, but the woman still stuck by your side during the journey of your ballet career.

She held your hand as the people around you threw pity your way during the funeral. She defended your passion for dance to your father as if she was defending an important law case. She did your hair for recitals. She stayed up late helping you come up with your Juilliard audition piece. She played the role of your godmother so well that you knew deep down your mom was smiling down on the both of you.

You were so excited to spend the summer in Utahime’s home country. You knew she was going to want you to practice for the ballet convention because every summer—a dancer is chosen to dance an original piece in front of many known people. From choreographers, dance tour coordinators, and of course, famous ballet royalty. You didn’t want this spot to be given to you considering who your mother was and the fact that Utahime helped fund the convention in the first place. She told you specifically that you won’t get special privileges, that if it’s a better dancer—they will not think twice about replacing you. That’s just how wicked the world of ballet was. When it came to ballet, you didn’t have time to cry about not getting the lead in a dance when the time you were feeling pity for yourself—you could be using it to make yourself better. Those were the words your former ballet instructor explicitly told you and those were the words you kept in your head up to this day.

“We need to lay down some ground rules,” Utahime stated as she placed a plate of food in front of you.

“Please don’t tell me, my dad gave you some rules.” You whined.

“No, these are my own rules,” Utahime said. She sat down at the table clearing her throat. “Practice comes first. I don’t care what you’re doing, I text you to come practice…come! This is not like the states, the dancers here sleep, eat, and breathe dance.”

“Okay.”

“No big distractions. I understand you most likely will want to mingle, you’re my very beautiful goddaughter—but please remember what you’re originally here for.” Utahime adds.

“No Summer flings, gotcha!”

“Okay, I didn’t say that. Just be mindful of who you are flinging with.” Utahime corrected.

“During your free time, please don’t associate yourself with the wrong crowd,” Utahime adds. “A ballerina with a criminal record isn’t cute no matter how good you look in your mugshot.”

“Don’t get arrested, noted. Any other rules?” You took a bite out of your food.

“Enjoy your summer, but please be mindful of what you’re here for. If you get to dance an original piece, it will look wonderful in your portfolio for when you graduate next Spring and that’s the endgame.”

“Of course! So, can I go exploring?” You eagerly asked. You gave your godmother those innocent puppy dog eyes that she has seen so many times since you were younger.

“Fine, but please be safe. I will be stopping at the dance studio, so when you’re done exploring—meet me there.” Utahime says.

You pushed yourself out of your seat and would go over to Utahime pulling her into a hug. Mumbling many thank yous and even kissing her cheek. “Thank you! I promise I’ll be at the studio at a reasonable time!” You yelled as you were going to leave.

You didn’t even let Utahime get a word out before you’re heading out of Utahime’s apartment and essentially you're home for the summer. You walked towards the elevator as you were walking, your face was buried in your phone updating your father on how you were doing. Even though he was most likely sleeping soundly back in New York, you still didn’t want to have him so worried during your three months here. You never understood the protectiveness your father had over you. Although it was a duty for fathers to protect their children as if their life depended on it—your father took it a little too far. Especially after your mother’s death, he once tried to take your love of ballet away from you. Arguing that it was the reason that broke your mom down and he refused to let you follow your mother’s dark path. Whatever that meant. Your mother’s death was a hushed secret that no one wanted to talk about. No one talked about what pushed her to do it, not even Utahime.

So what exactly did your father mean by ballet being why your mother took a dark path?

When you made it to the street, you opened Google and decided to search if any record shops were nearby. In the guest room, you were staying in, Utahime mentioned it being a record player a close friend gave to her and you were eager to use it during your time here. However, she didn’t have any vinyl records at all. She claimed that her career pushed her away from home quite often, so what was the point of buying vinyl records for a record player that only was collecting dust in her guest bedroom?

The first record shop that popped up was Suguru Records. You clicked on how far it was and wasn’t much of a walk. You placed your earbuds in your ear and soon Jazmine Sullivan was blasting through your ears. You took in everything around you as you were walking. From the architect of each building to the locals that are out and about. You enjoyed this atmosphere so much better than the busy streets of New York City during the rush hour of going to work or coming home from work. It was a soothing atmosphere and it made you even more excited to spend a summer here. Granted, the stares you were receiving as you were walking to your destination—it wasn’t anything new from the stares you received when you went to different ballet events around the world.

When you finally got to the record shop, you entered it with a smile. The scent in the store was comforting, homely at most. The first thing you noticed when you entered it was empty. To you, that wasn’t good considering that anyone could come in and take what they wanted and leave. You figured that the familiar bell that would annoyingly ring when the record shop door would push open would cause the employees to hurriedly run to the front of the store. You let your fingers brush against the records as you walk down a random aisle specifically looking for the classical section. You can already imagine how beautiful the tune of a popular classical song humming out the record player while you practice in the living room of Utahime’s place. But as you walk around the record shop, you didn’t even see a section for classical music. However, you did pick up a couple of your favorite R&B albums as you were snooping around.

You heard the familiar bell and your eyes darted to the door and you saw a man with long black hair carrying a box into the shop. He had gauges in his ears and if you were being honest, if you looked closely—he looked familiar. As if you saw him on a magazine cover or something. When his eyes met yours and then scanned over the shop, he let out a sigh before slowly dropping the box he was carrying near the register. “Welcome to Suguru Records, I’ll be right back.” He flashed you a kind smile before disappearing in the back.

You heard some ruckus in the back and what you assumed was the guy who greeted you voice, “I told you two gremlins to stop leaving the front end unattended!”

Soon the gentleman returned with two guys. He had a grip on the back of their work uniform shirts as if he was a father pitbull lifting his pups by their fur to help them get around better. One of the guys looked at the long-haired gentleman and gave him a deadpan smile, “It’s a slow day and it looks like the customer doesn't even need help. You said it yourself, if it’s slow—Choso and I can work on our music.” One said.

The man let go of the back of the two guys' shirts and he would push one of them towards you. “Noritoshi, you start unloading that box near the register. Choso, you go help the customer before I fire both of you.”

Noritoshi was near the register mumbling something under his breath before his boss glanced in his direction. “Do you have anything to say, Noritoshi?” The long-haired gentleman asked.

Noritoshi shook his head, “Oh no, just asking if you were stepping out again, Geto?” He forced a fake smile.

“Yes, an old friend is in town. So please be sure to lock up when we close.” Geto pointed his finger at him and then at Choso before he exited again.

You went back to looking through the records before you could hear someone clear your throat. When you glanced up, there he stood. The one who the guy called Choso, stood right in front of you. His hair was tugged into two ponytails. But it was one unique thing about him that caused you to stare at him as if he was the most attractive guy you’ve seen. A birthmark decorated his face that imprinted from his cheeks across his nose and on his other cheek. It was quite a unique birthmark, something you had never seen before. “Since that guy that just left signs my checks, I am here to ask if you need help with anything.” His monotone voice trailed off as he was avoiding as much eye contact as possible.

“Oh yes—do you guys have anything from any classical composers?” You asked and you watched Choso’s face scrunched up in pure disgust.

“Classical?” Choso asked.

“Yes, I’ll take anything at this moment.” You said. “My godmother has this record player and I just know a classical record would sound so good on it.”

“Classical?” Choso repeated just to make sure you understand what you just said.

“Yes, did I not say it loud enough?” You asked in a frustrated manner.

Choso held up his hand in a defensive mood and would glance over at Noritoshi who was unloading the box of new vinyl records they received. “Hey, check in the back to see if we have anything for the classical genre!”

“Classical?” Noritoshi looked up and you wanted to question if the two were related with the way Noritoshi mimicked the exact face of disgust that Choso did. “I think we have some stuff in the back though.”

Noritoshi waltzed into the back to search for the small number of vinyl records they did have. They weren’t selling, so Geto simply thought they were taking up space from other vinyl records.

You felt the vinyl records that were once in your arms getting gently pulled from your arm. Choso would flip through your options and you watched as he was looking at your vinyl records quite impressed. He held up the vinyl record for Lucky Daye’s Painted, he had a sly grin on his face. If you were bold enough, you would admit that sly grin on his face was cute.

“I have this one.” He said. “You have nice music taste, minus the classical thing.” He snickered before he handed you the records back.

“You don’t look like the type to like—“ Your words were cut off by him.

“Lucky Daye music?”

“Yes.” You admitted as you pulled your records closer to your chest.

“Music is something so magical and versatile. It’s a bit insane to stick to one genre isn’t it?” Choso asked as his back leaned against the record case behind him. His arms folded over his chest and you instantly noticed that his broad arms flexed in his black uniform shirt that had Suguru Records on it.

“But doesn't that contradict you making that face when I mentioned classical music?” You asked, your perfectly arched eyebrows raised at him.

He chuckles at your statement, “I guess it does…” His voice trails off as his dark-colored eyes gloss over your plump lip gloss-covered lips while he is searching for your name.

“Y/N.” You answered.

“I’m just curious as to why you would be interested in classical music?” Choso walked towards the register with you not too far behind him. “You don’t look like the type of girl who-“

Now it was your time to interrupt him, “See, you’re contradicting yourself again. You just said that music is such a special thing that you can’t just stick to one genre. Judging a book by its cover, something I did a few minutes ago.” You said.

Choso chuckled as he was beginning to ring up your vinyl records. “I guess we judged each other then.” Choso's eyes met with yours.

“Yup.” You answered before immediately breaking eye contact. Your cheeks felt so hot at the moment like you were standing outside in ninety-degree weather without water.

Noritoshi came back with a box of vinyl records. “These are the only ones we have. I’m pretty sure Geto put them at a discontinued price also.” He placed the box on the counter. “If we were the managers, we would give you this box for free.”

You giggled at his comment before flipping through the box. “It’s okay.” You picked three random types of vinyl and placed them on the counter. “I’m sure I’ll probably buy them all by the time the summer is over with.”

You paid for the records and Choso gave you the bag with all of them on it. It was a cute black reusable bag with the store’s logo on it. Choso leaned against the counter and placed his head in the palm of his hand, never actually taking his eyes off of you. There you were completely avoiding his eye contact.

Noritoshi was looking through the box of classical music vinyl records. “So, are you saying you actually enjoy this stuff?” He asked while flipping through the box of classical records.

“I’ve listened to that genre since I was in my mother’s stomach. It’s practically imprinted in my brain,” You admitted as you could feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket.

You quickly looked at the text and saw Utahime’s S.O.S text message. She must have needed you at the dance studio. “But I have to run, godmother needs me. I think I’ll see you guys around.” You began to walk towards the exit but Choso’s voice stopped you & caused you to turn to look in his direction.

“Yes, you will.” He admitted with a smile.

Your cheeks burnt, your words got stuck in your throat, and your brain turned into complete mush. You couldn’t say much, but you returned the smile before eventually leaving the record shop as flustered as a teenager in a cliche Netflix-produced romance movie.

“No distractions this summer, Y/N. No distractions this summer, Y/N.” You repeat to yourself as you are walking back towards Utahime’s place.

But as you continued to walk, you could hear someone yelling your name. When you turned around, Choso was jogging up to you to catch up to you.

“You should come out and see me perform,” Choso was fishing in his jeans pockets until he pulled out a tiny folded-up piece of paper.

“You’re a singer? You continue to shock me, but then again that’s me judging you by your looks again,” You admitted.

“I’m in a band. Well, it’s only Noritoshi and me right now. We’re still looking for other members, but I would love for you to come.” He finally unfolded the paper to reveal a flyer. He extended the paper for you to grab.

“I’ll see if I can make it. I’m going to be quite a busy girl this summer, so I don’t want to get your hopes up.” You said as you took the flyer from him. Your eyes scan over the flyer that looked like he kept it as a souvenir more than to promote that he was performing.

“You’re only going to be here for a summer?” Choso's eyebrows raised at you.

“Yeah.” You folded the paper back up to give back to him, but he motioned for you to keep it just in case you could make it.

Choso heard Noritoshi calling him from the front door of the record shop and he would slowly walk backward with a smile. His eyes you couldn’t read just yet never looked away from you before he’s parting his lips to speak.

“That gives us three months!” Choso says as he was walking backward.

“Three months to do what?” You asked out loud.

“Three months to get to know each. I’m kinda intrigued on why you’re a classical music fan in this year of 2022.” He yells back at you before giving you a sly wave and heading back into the record shop.

You turned around once again, flustered as ever. You couldn’t even hide the foolish smile on your face at the moment.

This was going to be an interesting summer.

┍━━━━━━━♡♡♡━━━━━━━┑

tags. @maydayaisha + @spiderpunkfien @bbytamaki @honeybleed @luvliv4lifexoxo @smileyy-cakee

┕━━━━━━━♡♡♡━━━━━━━┙

#choso kamo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #anime x reader #choso kamo x black reader #black reader #x black reader #jjk x black reader #angelshubnetwork #jjk smut #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

155 notes · View notes

nipsyyy · 1 year ago

Text

“It’s not the despair that destroys you,it’s the hope.”

-K.J Parker,Sixteen Ways to Defend a Walled City

56 notes · View notes

alaynasansa · 1 year ago

Text

‘ She is beginning to at least try to understand how she can play the Game of Thrones and be not a piece but a player. With her own goals, and moving other pieces around ’

George R. R. Martin

“Father asked if there were any knights in the hall who would do honor to their houses by taking the black, but no one came forward, so he gave this Yoren his pick of the king's dungeons and sent him on his way. And later these two brothers came before him, freeriders from the Dornish Marches, and pledged their swords to the service of the king. Father accepted their oaths...”

Ser Loras is a Tyrell, Sansa reminded herself. That other knight was only a Toyne. His brothers had no armies, no way to avenge him but with swords. Yet the more she thought about it all, the more she wondered. Joff might restrain himself for a few turns, perhaps as long as a year, but soon or late he will show his claws, and when he does... The realm might have a second Kingslayer, and there would be war inside the city, as the men of the lion and the men of the rose made the gutters run red

He saved Alayne, his daughter, a voice within her whispered. But she was Sansa too... and sometimes it seemed to her that the Lord Protector was two people as well. He was Petyr, her protector, warm and funny and gentle... but he was also Littlefinger, the lord she'd known at King's Landing, smiling slyly and stroking his beard as he whispered in Queen Cersei's ear. And Littlefinger was no friend of hers. When Joff had her beaten, the Imp defended her, not Littlefinger. When the mob sought to rape her, the Hound carried her to safety, not Littlefinger. When the Lannisters wed her to Tyrion against her will, Ser Garlan the Gallant gave her comfort, not Littlefinger. Littlefinger never lifted so much as his little finger for her.

Except to get me out. He did that for me. I thought it was Ser Dontos, my poor old drunken Florian, but it was Petyr all the while. Littlefinger was only a mask he had to wear. Only sometimes Sansa found it hard to tell where the man ended and the mask began. Littlefinger and Lord Petyr looked so very much alike. She would have fled them both, perhaps, but there was nowhere for her to go

Though his hair was grey and his face lined, Lord Yohn still looked as though he could break most younger men like twigs in those huge gnarled hands. His seamed and solemn face brought back all of Sansa's memories of his time at Winterfell. She remembered him at table, speaking quietly with her mother. She heard his voice booming off the walls when he rode back from a hunt with a buck behind his saddle. She could see him in the yard, a practice sword in hand, hammering her father to the ground and turning to defeat Ser Rodrik as well. He will know me. How could he not ? She considered throwing herself at his feet to beg for his protection. He never fought for Robb, why should he fight for me ? The war is finished and Winterfell is fallen. “Lord Royce,” she asked timidly, “will you have a cup of wine, to take the chill off ?”

Bronze Yohn had slate-grey eyes, half-hidden beneath the bushiest eyebrows she had ever seen. They crinkled when he looked down at her. “Do I know you, girl ?”

Sansa Month 2023 : day sixteen - politics

#sansa stark #alayne stone #bronze yohn royce #source: a game of thrones #source: a storm of swords #source: a feast for crows #source: game of thrones #asoiaf edits #made by me #sansamonth2023 #sansastarkappreciationfest2023

95 notes · View notes

icey--stars · 2 years ago

Text

Stories To Be Told: PART 12

Series Index

A shadowsinger, a warrior, an Illyrian, that's what she was. Trained by one of the most formidable female warriors. Escaped the Illyrian camps and her clipping when she was barely sixteen and is now the holder of 6 siphons. What happens when she tries to sneak into the City of Starlight? And starts down a whole new road of chaos?

a/n: so many souls did i rip out with the last part? i need a headcount lol

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

When I came to, there were voices and steps I could hear above the rushing waterfall. I was so impossibly sore. I was in pain, so much fucking pain. I looked across the cave, seeing blood staining the rocks and my siphon collar that landed just short of Rainne’s resting place.

“What are we going to do if we don’t find her?” A voice said.

“We keep searching until we do,” said another determinedly. “I’m not-”

“What if she’s dead?”

“She’s not. I can feel it.”

I didn’t have enough energy to move. I couldn’t even lift my aching head. There was dried blood all across my skin. I hated it. I used every minuscule of energy to draw a dagger. I had to defend myself if they came into the cave, I told myself.

How the hell was I going to do that? I thought distantly. I was laying on one of my wings, the other stretched out, crumpled against the wall.

“She might’ve run away.”

“Whatever, just give me the damn faelight, I’ll search this one myself.”

I held the dagger as tight as I could manage, lifting my head to face the person coming into the cave. If I was going to die, I’d die fighting.

A light came into the cave. It was dark outside, so the light amongst the dark hurt my already sore eyes.

It was an Illyrian. I held my breath.

The light illuminated the grave.

There was a sudden intake of breath. The light turned outside the cave. “There’s a grave in here!”

More trudging. Another second Illyrian male.

The light went back to the grave, lowering as if they’d leaned down to see something and I tried to now breathe too loudly.

“That’s-” one gasped.

“Her siphons.”

Then the light went higher and farther into the cave, shining into my eyes.

I whined, closing my eyes against the brightness.

“Y/N.” I put my dagger hand over my eyes, pain flitting all over my body.

Then there was the rush of footsteps and someone kneeled beside me. “Y/N, Y/N, it’s Azriel,” the male said. “Y/N?”

I whined, hurting. “Azriel?” I said, my throat dry.

I was suddenly picked up and pulled into his chest. I whimpered in pain, but hid my face in his chest pathetically. Azriel had found me, I thought. He’d found me. Tears came to my eyes and I couldn’t help the sob that came out.

“We found you, we found you. You’re safe,” Azriel murmured, holding onto my tightly. “Safe. I’ve got you.” He tucked my head under his chin.

I felt safe. For once I felt safe. I didn’t know why, but being in Azriel’s arms felt right.

“There’s blood,” the other voice, now familiar to me, said. Cassian.

Azriel turned his head slightly. “Are you hurt?” He asked me.

I nodded, letting out another relieved sob.

“Rhys is on his way,” Cassian informed. “Nesta is coming too.”

“Don’t-” I begged. “Don’t let them see me.”

Azriel tightened his hold. “They won’t care,” he assured. “They won’t care, baby, they’ll just be relieved you’re safe. We’ve been looking for you for two whole days. Nesta has been tearing her hair out and using me like a punching bag for letting you get away.”

I sniffled, my hand with the dagger dropping as I went to wrap my arms around Azriel as well, needing this grounding force.

“What hurts baby?” He asked, rubbing circles on my upper shoulders.

I didn’t reply, just burrowed my face more into his chest with a whimper.

Then there were more footsteps rushing into the cave.

Cassian moved to meet them. “Az has her,” he quickly explained. “She’s injured.”

“Y/N?” Nesta’s voice cut through my thoughts. Lighter footsteps, and then Nesta was putting a hand on my shoulder next to Azriel’s.

Everything was so overwhelming. I didn’t know how to deal with this. I’d never had such an intense reaction.

“Az, you’ve got to let her go, we’ve got to get her to Madja,” Rhysand’s voice cut through.

Azriel regretfully let go, and I felt more hands grappling at my body. My legs were weak, so someone carried me. I took one last regretful look at Rainne’s grave before I was carried out from behind the waterfall into the open air. It was dark outside and the moon was high.

“Give her to me, I’ll winnow her to Madja,” Rhysand said.

Cassian, who was apparently holding me, handed me off gently. My wings were limp behind me and everything in me hurt to no end.

We winnowed. It was weird and made me feel sick and dizzy compared to the winnowing I was used to, but I held back the bile in my throat.

I was set on a bed and then a female’s voice cut through the dizziness. “You tell me what hurts right now. What hurts most?” She asked.

“My head and thigh,” I replied, choking on my breath.

I suddenly felt a sweet, cooling sensation at my thigh around the location of the wound.

“Stabbed, were you?” The female chuckled. She must’ve noticed my tears, because she said, “Whatever happened, it's over with. You’re in my care now and you're safe. Take deep breaths if you can. I can’t ease your headache if you keep causing it yourself. Is there anywhere else you were injured?”

“My- my wing,” I said, trying to keep my voice clear.

The female turned. “Spread them out, will you? I won’t touch them unless I warn you.”

I arched off the bed slightly and spread my wings to hang limply off the bed I was laid on.

A textured hand came to grip my hand. I looked over, seeing Azriel with a pained expression.

“This is… you got beyond lucky,” the healer sighed. “That cut on your wing almost went to the tendon. Clipped. You’re a lucky soul.”

I felt that cooling sensation on my wing and I turned my head to look over. The scab on my wing healed over. I took a shaky breath.

The healer turned to me. “Anywhere else?”

I shook my head. “Just- just sore.”

“As is to be expected. Be gentle on your leg for a little, and don’t fly for a day or two, take a break. Rest up, wash, and heal your mind. If you start feeling pain that feels off, you come to me, understand?” she ordered, giving me a serious stare. I nodded, wiping my eyes with my dirty sleeve.

Azriel squeezed my hand and I lolled my head to the side to look over. “You’re safe, I won’t let anyone get you,” He assured.

I hummed, closing my eyes as my head pounded again. The healer came over with a pitcher and glass of water.

“Drink,” she ordered, then walked off.

I grimaced, my muscles aching at the thought of moving. I felt like I was heavy. Like I just couldn’t lift anything anymore.

“You need help sitting up?” Azriel asked.

I nodded, ashamed. Azriel just smiled and then moved to help me sit up, being careful to not touch my wings, only my back. Then he poured a glass of water and handed it to me.

“Thank you,” I whispered, closing my eyes as I drank the water. I realized how thirsty I was at the first gulp and eagerly downed the rest. “Sorry… sorry for worrying you guys.”

Azriel’s gaze softened even more, if that was even possible. “Don’t apologize. Not for anything. You’re alive and we found you, that’s all that matters.”

I nodded. Azriel refilled my glass, smiling faintly at me. He made sure I’d drunk my fill before looking over towards the other end of the healing room. That’s when I saw my High Lord, High Lady, Cassian and Nesta all watching. I grimaced. I looked like shit, probably with blood all over me and mud and with a tear stained face.

Cassian wandered over first. “You’re staying the hell away from training for at least a week.” A moment later. “I’m glad you’re okay Y/N.”

Rhysand spoke up in agreement. “We all are glad.”

Feyre and Nesta nodded, solidifying that fact. Nesta came over to my other side, putting a hand on my arm. “You better not try to die again. I like having you around.”

I chuckled a little. “I like having you around too.”

Nesta smiled. Then she whispered in my ear. “Az isn’t like this for many, take that however you wish.”

She squeezed my arm once more before walking off.

“You’re safe,” Az said, just loud enough for me to hear. I didn’t move, but I felt my heart ache for some reason.

“We’ll talk when you’re ready,” Rhysand spoke up. “Focus on getting better.”

He turned to Feyre, before they both disappeared.

I felt my eyes slipping, exhaustion hitting me like a wave.

“Am I allowed out of here?” I asked.

Cassian nodded. “Get better,” he ordered before walking out with Nesta.

“Want me to fly you back to the House?” Azriel asked beside me.

I nodded. “I’d appreciate it.”

He smiled, standing up and then moving his hands under my shoulders and knees before lifting me up. I folded my wings slightly, trying to not be too annoying to carry.

Azriel seemed calmer with me against his chest again. “Hold onto my neck,” he ordered gently. As soon as I’d wrapped my arms around his neck, he launched into the air.

I felt my eyes slipping closed. He carried me all the way to my bathroom.

“I assume you want to bathe?” He asked, making sure.

I nodded, eyes half-lidded. “Thank you.”

Azriel smiled. “Just ask the House for anything, or to get me. I’m more than willing to help.”

I smiled and nodded. Azriel had changed since the last time I had talked to him. It was a good change, and something within me told me he was safe. Being in his arms with my head on his chest was safe. I didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Thank you,” I said, moving to turn the bath on to the hottest possible setting.

Azriel dipped his head and then walked out, closing the bathroom door and then the bedroom door.

I felt like shit, but I was able to undress to lower myself into the bath. Then clean my body.

On my bed, I saw my bag, two shined daggers and my siphon collar.

I just moved it to the floor, sitting down to clean my siphon first while I was thinking of it. After it was clean, I strapped it on, that weight more reassuring than constricting now.

Then I collapsed on the bed, pulling the sheets over me before passing out.

-----

My dreams were silent, probably due to my exhaustion. I awoke a few times, feeling too hot or too cold, and then feeling sore, but I managed to fall back asleep, even through the morning until I woke up finally, feeling a lot more rested.

I still felt sore, unbelievably so, but it was better than before. I didn’t want to get up. I didn’t want to face the truth.

I raised my head first, looking around my room. Then lifted my torso off the bed, stretching out my wings. I winced at a small spike of pain from the healed cut. I ignored it, it was probably just phantom pain.

I stood up, lethargically making it to my window and opening it, breathing in the air.

A plate of food appeared on the window seal. I smiled.

“Thank you,” I whispered, and ate what I could stomach at that moment. It didn’t turn out to be a lot, and certainly not enough for my exhausted body, but I just… couldn’t.

I wandered out of my room after, grimacing as my thigh’s muscles protested. “Hey Y/N,” Azriel’s voice cut through the fog of my mind like a lighthouse.

I turned to face him.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m okay,” I lied. He eyed me closer.

“You’re still shaking,” he observed. “And your shadows are flitting around like little birds. Characteristic of worrying.”

I sighed, twisting my hands against each other. “I’m trying to be okay,” I said, fixing my previous statement. “I will be okay.”

Azriel’s gaze softened. “Anything I can do to help?”

He was confusing me, being so kind. Last I checked we were arguing and now he’d called me baby (yes, I did remember that) and was being like a worried mother hen.

“My mind wanders where it wishes to, nobody can control it,” I sighed. “It’s just a lot, let’s stick with that.”

Az nodded. “You’re safe. Nobody can get you.” And I believed him. I truly did believe him. I was safe.

“What happened to… him?” I couldn’t even bear to say his name.

Azriel tensed, but replied carefully. “He rots in a prison cell until we’re ready to deal with him. Rhysand isn’t going to be kind.”

I felt tears prick my eyes against my will again.

“Y/N?” Az asked, daring a step closer. The tears came tumbling out of my eyes before I could stop them. “Hey, it’s alright,” Azriel tried. “He can’t get you. I won’t let him. I cut off his hand when he stabbed you. I wouldn’t hesitate to take off his head.” That assurance would startle anyone else, but it did ease some of my anxiety. Just barely a fingertip length.

“How is he my father?“ I whispered. “How is he the mysterious figure my mother always spoke of?”

Azriel put a hand on my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. I hid my face in his chest, unwilling to brave any more eye contact. “Whether he is your biological parent or not, it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. He doesn’t define you. Nobody does if you don’t let them.”

I nodded, sniffling. “Why is it so bad this time?” I whispered. “Even after that night I escaped, I wasn’t like this.”

He wrapped his arms around me, and just like before, a feeling of safety came with it, just like before. “I don’t know. But you’re strong, you know? Whatever is wrong, you can get through it.”

I took a shaky breath, trying to stop myself from breaking out in sobs again. “Sorry,” I whispered, feeling guilty for having to have someone deal with me like this.

Azriel gripped my chin, tilting my gaze up to meet his. “You don’t apologize for things like this. Okay?”

My eyes watered more. How was he so kind? I wondered. How did he know? How- how anything?

“You don’t burden anyone with your tears. Especially after this. If you need to cry, you cry, got it? I-“ he cut himself off, shaking his head, as if holding something back. “I don’t feel like I have to take care of you or anything. I want to make sure you’re okay, that you heal and that you never, ever have to deal with him again.”

I felt like sobbing just from these words. “Thank you,” I said quietly.

He just hugged me closer. I didn’t fight back. I don’t think that I even could, with my soreness, but Azriel also felt so incredibly safe, unlike anyone before. Like I knew he would protect me in some way. A string tugged in my chest, going taunt. I held back a gasp from the sudden jerk. It felt odd, but not entirely wrong, I evaluated. A little thread, tied in my chest.

We stood there for a little bit, and I basked in the feeling of right that was in my chest when Azriel had his arms around me.

I pulled away when I sensed someone coming down the hallway.

Azriel gave me one last reassuring smile before turning to find Cassian trudging down the hallway.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed happily. “How are you feeling?”

My tears had dried mostly, so hopefully it wasn’t noticeable. “I’m fine,” I replied. Despite what Azriel had said, I didn’t plan on showing weakness purposely. At least not any time soon.

“That’s good,” Cassian said. “Nesta was a bit worried in a way. She wanted me to let you know you’re invited to their Mind Stilling if you want to.”

I grimaced. Mind Stilling. It might be the bane of my existence now.

“I’ll go,” I said, tone quieter. “If even just to calm her and my own nerves.”

Cassian nodded. “They’re having lunch right now if you want to join them.”

“I already ate,” I said. A beat goes by. “I’ll go anyway.”

Cassian grinned. “Az, by the way, Rhys wants to talk to you.”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” Azriel replied. “I’ve got a couple things to do at my desk.”

I took my leave, trying to hold back my limp best I could as I wandered into the dining room. The other Valkyries were eating food. But they jumped to their feet when they saw me.

“Y/N!” Nesta said loudly. “How are you?”

“I’m alright Nesta,” I said, sliding into a chair with a wince. “Just sore.”

Nesta’s jaw tightened, but she sat down as well.

Gywn was hesitant, but she was brave enough to ask, “Can we ask what happened? Or at least why you were gone for 2 days?”

I took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you all when we’re somewhere a bit more private.”

“You don’t have to,” Emerie quickly said. “We don’t have to know. It’s your business.”

“I trust you guys,” I assured. “You were concerned, so you deserve at least a little explanation.”

Nesta smiled. “We trust you too,” she said after a quick glance to either of the other companions.

I grinned. I coughed a little, barely anything more than a scoff, and yet a cup of water appeared from nowhere anyway.

“Mother hen,” I growled to the House before taking a long sip of the water.

Nesta chuckled in amusement. “It truly is a mother hen,” she commented.

Emerie hummed in agreement.

“It’s like I cough, or I sneeze, and immediately, tissues or water or whatever the hell. The House must like us or something,” Gwyn replied.

“It does,” Nesta agreed.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

TAGLIST (see post for getting added)

@mis-lil-red, @bunnymallowo, @judig92, @biblophilefox82, @azzydaddy, @thegirlintheshadows101, @whatupmydudes01, @feyres-fireheart, @elizarikaallen, @xenlynn, @panzees-bizarre-adventures, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @baebeepeach, @nyctophiliiiiaaa, @brekkershadowsinger, @officiallyunofficialperson, @bookslut420, @margssstuff, @bluephoenix908

#azriel x reader #azrielxreader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #cassian #nesta #rhysand #emerie #gwyn acotar #valkyries #mywriting

136 notes · View notes

naranjapetrificada · 6 months ago

Text

Academic excerpts as a framing device

So in the ask game I've been enjoying today, @piratecaptainscaptainpirates asked an interesting bonus question about the academic blurbs I've been including at the start of each chapter of From the Firmament that I started answering on that post, but things quickly go long enough to merit their own post so here it is! The question (as such) was:

(also, I was just re-reading From the Firmament and I will never be over the academic article excerpts. They're just such a neat and fun inclusion! I'd love to hear about your process while writing them, how you go about working them in with each chapter's themes, etc.)

Whatever specific idea that spawned the fic itself is now lost to the vicissitudes of ADHD memory, but it was born in the context of a lot of Thinking About Tropes in ways that were new to me at the time. In particular I was interested in a different first meeting, specifically one that involved Stede actually visiting the Queen Anne or being taken captive by the QAR crew, and Ed having to react to Stede under those circumstances.

I started playing with a draft in that vein that I'm going to come back to at some point, but the other trope I got really interested in (both as a reader of fic and also just like, intellectually) was arranged marriage. Basically every version of that I could imagine required an entirely different world than the canon one, and once I started casting about for the right circumstances I started thinking about history a lot.

The academic blurbs started as a worldbuilding crutch when I was first trying to get the fic together at the beginning, and it was easier to gather all that kind of information in a "just the facts" format when starting out. They started taking on a more concrete form when my thoughts about history intersected with 1) stuff I'd read before, 2) stuff I was reading at the time, and 3) a joke that got out away from me.

1) Two of my favorite novelists period are K.J. Parker (who I've mentioned at least once in the fic's notes) and Guy Gavriel Kay, both of whom are obsessed in their own ways with history in a way that come through in their fantasy work in interesting ways. Kay tends to straightforwardly mention in-world history and historians, without mentioning specific works but making a point to draw attention to the fact that he's speaking from outside of the characters' perspectives. Here is an example passage from Kay's Under Heaven, which is presented in its own separate section between character pov chapters:

It was said to be the case that the emperor's favourite wife, regarded by some later historians dangerously subtle and too influential, played a role in encouraging him to keep that agreement--with a view to securing Kitai's boundaries.

Meanwhile Parker, who includes the names of specific fictional works and specific fictional historians, is more likely to bring up history in the flow of the narrative, when at any time the next sentence could discuss history and/or in-world philosophy:

Saloninus, in the Exceptional Dialogues, speculates about the end of the world. Will it be a great sundering, the sky falling on the land, or a great inundation, the sea gradually rising until the last treetop is drowned, or a great fire, or—Wrong. The end of the world is like this, and a deaf man who couldn’t lipread wouldn’t even realise what had just happened.

I enjoy both of these approaches despite (or maybe because of) their differences, and when you've read as much of either author as I have this sticks with you.

2) at some point after I started playing with the idea that would become FtF and the draft of Chapter 1 coming together, I picked up Parker's Sixteen Ways to Defend A Walled City. One thing I really appreciate about both Kay and Parker is that they almost never tell their stories from the perspectives of rulers (with the occasional exceptions of rulers who began as commoners and are usually, like canon Blackbeard, some combination of bored, overwhelmed, and made miserable by their position at the top). Kay tends to alternate between a few main characters, with individual one-off outsider POV sections, while Parker tends to have several characters whose alternating perspectives cover the whole story. In either case those characters usually span the middle 3/4 of their given society, neither prince nor pauper. People who aren't starving but aren't wealthy, mid-level bureaucrats, low-ranking government officials, generals who we met as lower officers, etc. This was true of that novel, and helped me arrive where I did with Ed and Stede in my WIP's world (yes they're both high ranking, but neither is a ruler as such because that didn't interest me). I think looking at them in the canon world and realizing where I wanted to put them in the world I was building led to point #3:

3) "Wouldn't it be funny if Stede was accidentally incredibly influential?"

In some ways that question is a central question (and joke) in the show itself. Like, this guy shows up and starts doing things differently because he can't help but be who he is, and his desire for the world to be a better place then spreads beyond anyone's wildest dreams? And yeah Stede isn't the catalyst for the end of traditional piracy in the world (that's the British Empire, their culpability as represented by the death of Izzy "The Avatar of Traditional Piracy" Hands), but he is the catalyst for it on board the Revenge. And the place he was able to influence intersects with the wider world after a series of accidents and unlikely events, and even without season 3 (😢) we can see the way the world is changing now.

And how that got out of hand was I started thinking about contexts where accidentally becoming important to history would be the most unexpected (and therefore the funniest) and ended up at republican-era Rome. Something about the pomp and circumstance and veneration of it all, and then here's my favorite little guy with his inherent kindness and autistic whimsy, ready to turn everything on its head.

And from there: the blurbs just became a means to an end and the best way to draw attention to that joke. I couldn't stop imagining people talking about Stede Bonnet the way they do about Rome and laughing about it, so here we are.

As for your process questions: I tend to write them on their own, whenever a given topic seems interesting or like something that could fit into the world. The blurb in chapter one kind of just sets the stage for things, but when I first wrote it it was significantly longer and was much more about the documents cache it mentions, because at the time I was thinking about historical document preservation. Since it needed to be much shorter and kick things off I just reshaped what I had to serve my purpose. I do still have plans to incorporate the rest of it later!

The second one came from thinking about Edward "Daddy Issues" Teach's relationship with violence and how having a father who is different from canon was still going to allow violence and daddy issues to still intersect. The idea for the arrows it describes is lovingly (if shamelessly) borrowed from the Parker book I mentioned above, in an attempt to create a situation where Ed could still have (misguided) ideas about the capacity for violence being something inherent about a person.

Lastly, I'll say that while I'm not intending the opening blurbs as obvious statements of purpose for the chapters that followed, they do fulfill a worldbuilding purpose relevant to where they show up in the story. So the first one is, by necessity, an introduction, and the second one is both meant to inform and remind everyone of the bad blood that exists between the parties trying to bridge the gap between them with the marriage. I won't say yet what the third one is but I will say that I've foundered way too long working on Chapter 3 because I didn't immediately establish which one I wanted to open the chapter with. So they're important scaffolding, important worldbuilding, and in the way of worldbuilding they'll be relevant to later things when those things come up.

Thank you so much for asking this question, it was super fun and helpful to nail all of this stuff down like this and get it out of my head!

#thank you ❤️❤️❤️#ask game #ask games #asked and answered #bonus questions #from the firmament #fic writing #writing process #ofmd #our flag means death

5 notes · View notes

alexilulu · 7 months ago

Text

Books I Read in 2024 #9: Saevus Corax Deals With the Dead (K.J. Parker (pen name of Tom Holt), Orbit Books, 2023)

The eponymous Saevus Corax is the leader of a band of battlefield salvagers working in the shared history that K.J. Parker has written since his first novels in The Engineer trilogy, cleaning up dead bodies and turning their remaining belongings into a hard-earned profit. Saevus' old life comes back to haunt him and force him into a no-win race across the world in order to find a way to prevent a war beyond imagining.

K.J. Parker (the pen name of british writer Tom Holt, whose primary work is in re-imaginations of fairy tales) is a hell of a writer. His primary focus is on a gorgeously detailed world that draws directly upon world historical and sociopolitical developments in antiquity, focusing particularly on themes around technological innovation, the ways it can be leveraged by bad actors, and the progress of history. If you're the type of person who goes in for connecting all the dots, there's about a billion little things in these novels that all chart to one another beyond just country names and the rise and fall of the various empires that make up the world; the Parkerverse is stunningly detailed.

His greatest strength is in his dialogue; though more than a little anachronistic and tongue-in-cheek, his characters are brilliantly detailed clockwork people, the type of protagonists who you can intimately understand by the end of the novel and see the turn coming when they're forced up against the wall and their principles (of which they often have very few).

Saevus Corax is one in a long tradition of K.J. Parker protagonists, men who are too smart for their own good and find themselves in situations that demand every ounce of their cunning, wit and willingness to do bad in the face of their own destruction. He captains a nameless organization working in the battlefield salvage industry, making a killing cleaning up the remnants of the frequent skirmishes and wars of the setting, recovering abandoned military equipment and repairing it for resale, stitching up the survivors and ransoming them back to their countries for the cost of their care, and burning the bodies of the dead to prevent the spread of disease.

And yet, Saevus Corax is not who he says he is. The novel hinges around his own past, the haunting deaths in his past that have lead him into such a precarious career as this. The novel hinges upon death; after the death that changed his life, he habitually avoids killing others. When he finds dying men on the battlefield, his doctor does everything he can to save them. When he has an enemy that betrayed him and cost him money and safety, he only returns as much as he has received in turn, stopping well short of killing them (though he does strand them in a desert with just barely enough water to survive). He has denied death purchase on his life beyond the amount it has already scarred him.

But that first death can't be hidden or avoided.

In many of K.J. Parker's other trilogy works (I'm thinking primarily of the Sixteen Ways to Defend a Walled City series, which continues in How to Rule an Empire and Get Away With It, but also the Two of Swords novels), he takes a much broader expanse of story than he does here; which is to say, they don't feel like a trilogy of fantasy novels in the same way that others do. Each of the Sixteen Ways novels have a new protagonist and are set after the previous installment with new protagonists springing out of the circumstances of the last novel. The Two of Swords hardly establishes a primary point of view character until the back half of the first novel, taking its time to establish the grand stakes of the world-spanning war between two halves of a separated Byzantine and Holy Roman Empire analogue and all the people caught in the middle of it.

But this...this is a first in a trilogy ass trilogy novel. It does end well, and it's a fun ride throughout, but Deals With the Dead is clearly building to something far grander with regards to Saevus than I've grown to expect from K.J.

I have great faith that it will go somewhere, but some part of me worries in a genre like this when things end like this.

For the people who think this all sounds great and want a stand-alone experience by the author in the setting to get a feel for it, I strongly recommend The Folding Knife, a brilliant picture of a Vesani politician's rise and subsequent fall. The summary on the page is brilliant, so I'll reproduce it here:

Basso the Magnificent. Basso the Great. Basso the Wise. The First Citizen of the Vesani Republic is an extraordinary man. He is ruthless, cunning, and above all, lucky. He brings wealth, power and prestige to his people. But with power comes unwanted attention, and Basso must defend his nation and himself from threats foreign and domestic. In a lifetime of crucial decisions, he's only ever made one mistake. One mistake, though, can be enough.

#Alexis reads books 2024

2 notes · View notes