#and Bastian grumbles and protests and knows that he needs it and loves her for it

[pyrrhiccomedy]

Lisbet - The Devil's Alchemist

The first attendant to the antichrist was his death-touched squire;

The second was his fairy wife.

Lisbet was the third.

Born a trapper's daughter, raised an iconoclast: she was proud and peculiar, literate and skeptical, blunt and awkward and unbending in the wind. The devil was nothing to her until proven otherwise. This witch-touched great lord was a man like any other. She spoke plainly, thought clearly, and with her bow and her dog and her knowledge of the wood, in the face of censure she could always walk away.

The antichrist knew that he would never find another Lisbet: a genius, a free thinker, a slow-growing but powerful tree. It took years for her roots to find purchase in the alien soil he had transplanted her to: years of self-doubt, uncertainty, unhappiness and frustration. But in his garden of thistles, thorns, and arrowroots, he made room for a great oak.

It grows more quickly now. The shade from its canopy begins to creep out across the world.

She has invented the cannon; guessed the nature of the Emperor-Wolf; wrapped the mantle of the alchemist around her shoulders; never knelt to anyone.

Her brain crackles with strange fire. Her hands grope out to find the levers of the world.

[akaanir-of-starfleet]

#lisbet is bastian's best friend #in many ways she serves the role of the court jester: the one person who can truly say anything to him no matter how outrageous #she will make fun of him and bust his balls and bring him back down to earth #and Bastian grumbles and protests and knows that he needs it and loves her for it #lisbet's ideas are usually completely bizarre but she always has a thought for how they could actually work #and her brainwaves have led to some of Bastian's most implausible accomplishments #there is a flinty vulnerability to her: #she refuses to change for anyone but that's not to say their judgemental reactions don't hurt #but now that she's the king of France's bestie no one can say shit to her anymore and she's having a lot more fun (via @pyrrhiccomedy)

#bastian is.....lowkey obsessed with her #she's his best friend and HAS been his best friend for a long time #he threw in with her when she threatened a group of fairy guards with a knife and tried to jump out a window #he covered her escape because he liked the absolute fucking guts that took #and when they reunited he asked her to come with him and she agreed #less of a 'leave your nets and follow me' and more of a 'I'll stick with this weird rich guy because I don't have anything else going on' #she talked so frankly to him right out the gate - absolutely unimpressed by The Second Son Of The Duke Of Burgundy but in on /bastian/ #there was actually frisson of attraction between the two of them at the start #something that felt like it COULD be something one day but not quite yet ... and then as time passed they got so close that #any kind of sexual connection was absolutely out of the question #a pair of 20-somethings who struggled to be vulnerable but could be with one another #as long as they were shoulder to shoulder and looking somewhere else #bastian would kill and die for her and he has cleared such a space in his garden for her #her potential is enormous and he has faith in the fire inside of her to spread and reach and become legendary #the alchemist and archer at his side #she stayed with him for so long at her own expense and he is so glad that she's found her footing at last #she's about to get married and has petitioned the sunflower king and answers to no one #bastian's greed and hunger for himself is almost matched by what he wants for her: everything she can close her burning mind around #(I love you lisbet I'm so proud) (via @wizzard890)

Lisbet - The Devil's Alchemist

The first attendant to the antichrist was his death-touched squire;

The second was his fairy wife.

Lisbet was the third.

Born a trapper's daughter, raised an iconoclast: she was proud and peculiar, literate and skeptical, blunt and awkward and unbending in the wind. The devil was nothing to her until proven otherwise. This witch-touched great lord was a man like any other. She spoke plainly, thought clearly, and with her bow and her dog and her knowledge of the wood, in the face of censure she could always walk away.

The antichrist knew that he would never find another Lisbet: a genius, a free thinker, a slow-growing but powerful tree. It took years for her roots to find purchase in the alien soil he had transplanted her to: years of self-doubt, uncertainty, unhappiness and frustration. But in his garden of thistles, thorns, and arrowroots, he made room for a great oak.

It grows more quickly now. The shade from its canopy begins to creep out across the world.

She has invented the cannon; guessed the nature of the Emperor-Wolf; wrapped the mantle of the alchemist around her shoulders; never knelt to anyone.

Her brain crackles with strange fire. Her hands grope out to find the levers of the world.