#and also i can’t figure out what to make isabeau

[starmagnets]

thinking about an isat kirby au….. do you see the vision

[beneathsilverstars]

au where siffrin takes their time to think about it and decides they don’t actually want to be with isabeau like that, ofc they love him but not in a romantic way that’s any different from their feelings for the other party members

and loop is about ready to throttle him again like. what do you MEAN you get isabeau and you don’t even WANT him!

so, okay, that’s perfect though right, no isafrin means there’s plenty of space for isaloop?

except! being the consolation prize siffrin is actually even worse than being the “date one siffrin get another of equal or lesser value free”!!

bonus points if loop’s identity hasn’t been revealed yet and isabeau does actually have a separate crush on loop. but he feels terrible about it, bc doesn’t it cheapen his feelings for siffrin to be falling for someone else so soon? what if it’s just a rebound thing?? and siffrin and loop are obviously so close what if they like each other??? and then when the reveal eventually DOES happen, that does NOT make it any simpler.

bonus bonus points if loop is also struggling to figure out if they’re actually into isa, or if the only reason they can say “ofc i’d want to date him if i was in your place” so easily is bc they aren’t? they think they want to, but maybe they’re just desperate to be special to someone, to be prioritized more than siffrin for once. maybe they would’ve truly loved isa, once upon a time, but they’re not actually capable of that sort of thing anymore. maybe they really do want to be with him and that’s exactly why they can’t, bc if loop gets something they want it will inevitably be taken away! maybe they want to, but they know it would be wrong to date isa without explaining who they are, and once they do that they’ll never be able to trust that isa wants them back for themself and not as a second chance at siffrin.

and siffrin just wants so badly for two of his favorite people to be happy, and maybe they could be happy together, and it would be so perfect… except for all of the ways that it’s messy and complicated and painful and difficult and imperfect instead. and even if there was anything he could do to help, siffrin is kinda the last person that either of them would want this sort of help from, right now. so he just has to watch, feeling guilty twice over.

[guided-by-stars]

Thoughts on Mister "I killed my past self so that I could live" Isabeau vs Mage "I tried my damnedest to kill my past self but couldn't do it" Loop? this has been stuck in my head for ages and I would love to hear your thoughts on it (too scared to get off Anon oopsies)

What fascinates me about that comparison is that Isabeau is often analyzed under his struggles to act. He fears being seen as a coward, when Siffrin in act 5 calls him such, he later confirms that it was indeed an insecurity of his. It’s not exactly surprising to see why- he does struggle with inaction, whether it comes to his hesitance to put his valuable input out there (despite how it could’ve incredibly helpful, he’s so smart!), or his holding back of his confession to Siffrin. However, when it comes to Changing, it seems that he never hesitated to take action, once he realized that was what he wanted.

Could this be because of the incredible strength of his desire to be different? Was it that much stronger than any of his other desires? Or was it easier because of the institutional pushing of Change in the first place?

When it comes to Loop, it’s interesting, because there are multiple meanings of “kill [their] past self.”

Of course, there’s the direct physical attacking of Siffrin that they do in act 6 (and that battle will never stop haunting my mind), where they do indeed try their damnest to kill him (open up your rib cage, take out my heart that beats in your chest) , but when given the opportunity when they win, pinning him to the floor, they can’t. At the end of the day, Loop feels like Siffrin deserves to live, deserves to win, deserves to be helped. Their pity, their care, their love, is as equally strong as their resentment, their hatred, and their burning envy in that moment. [For more on that, see here: https://www.tumblr.com/guided-by-stars/758267393131855872/when-siffrin-first-asks-loop-why-theyre-helping ] They say, shaking on top of Siffrin, hands still on their throat, eye full with tears, “I can’t do this, not when I had to see you fight so hard…!!!”

But then, there’s also the active metaphorical killing of their past self. Choosing a new name, a new role, partly because Siffrin would certainly not have trusted them as much if they knew they were also them (ironic), but also because they didn’t feel like they deserved to be a Siffrin, like they were faking being one, that this wasn’t their world anyways, so they no longer had a place in it as themselves. Despite their best efforts, though, Siffrin figures it out. Their comedy mask wasn’t able to fully conceal the tragedy underneath. At the end of the day, that transition is a construction, an illusion.

Of course, there’s a third type of killing of the self that Loop seemingly at first succeeds at, but ultimately fails at. Their Wish. They don’t even intend to do so- all they want is to escape their torment. But they give up their body and their place as “Siffrin” in that moment. Despite that though, their past self isn’t dead, not really. At the end of their battle, Siffrin smiles gently at them and says “I’m sorry, Siffrin. And thank you, Loop.” They’re both. The Siffrinness inside of them never went away, not really. That body created by Wish Craft is theirs, they grew into it, spreading into the star as a new skin, but they are still Siffrin, really and truly.

So, if we return to the comparison, it seems fairly simple why Isa was able to kill his past self, make them disappear, kill them with his bare hands, as he says, and Loop could not.

…

When Loop tries to kill the self, the first time, it wasn’t an actual choice, it’s just Craft, the second time, it’s not a true Change, it’s a facade, a mask, and the third time, deep in their heart, they don’t actually want to go through with it. When Isabeau does, it’s a genuine true change that he had the utmost conviction for.

But is it really fair to purely contrast them? Did Loop truly fail? Aren’t they similar in their method of changing and being changed? Isabeau also says this, while under the stars:

The person he was before is still here, he grew around them to protect them…an armor becoming the real thing…he wanted to become someone he would have liked to know before…

Does this not sound like someone we know? Someone who physically grew around themselves, a new form being created to protect themselves and creating a facade to emotionally protect themselves, a facade that melted into them until it became an inextricable part of the real them, trying to be helpful and useful, someone who wanted a literal other version of themselves to like them and want to know them… [clears throat]

…Isabeau and Siffrin are more alike than many realize, and it’s not just because of their mutual love of puns and lack of wanting to make the first move. They are deeply similar, and echo each other.

[sixpossumsinatrenchcoat]

Natural Satellite [ch 3]

Siffrin and Isabeau finally talk. Isabeau makes a new friend. You can start from chapter one here.

“So…” Isa mumbles, darting a glance at Siffrin. “So the loops end when you… die?” Sif nods. “We-e-e-elll,” Loop cuts in. “Careful, now! It’s not just when you die, is it, stardust? Wouldn’t want to poison the well with premature assumptions, now, would we?” Sif glares at them. “Stop trying to influence him.” “Teehee! Sure thing, stardust! First you just have to stop telling him stuff that’s wrong!”

“What do you mean, remember???” Isabeau sputters. “Are you saying— Is this really happening?????”

Siffrin stares at him for several seconds. “Oh,” they say at last.

(Oh??????)

Sif wets their lips and darts a glance over Isabeau’s shoulder, toward the path he just ran down. “Um. Can I just… I’ll be right back, I just—“

“What!!! No!!! What??? Obviously not!!!!”

Their face hardens. “You think you could stop me?”

“What?” Isa gasps, flabbergasted. “I’m not—This isn’t a fight! I am asking you to stay! And talk to me! Like a real person!”

Sif seems to find that last part amusing.

Isabeau scowls at him. “What about this is funny to you?”

“Hm? Oh. It’s just. A little ironic.”

…An unspoken ‘coming from you’ hangs in the air between them.

“I— Well, I—” Isa’s face heats up. “ Aw, come on, Sif! I am so confused right now! I have no idea what’s going on! And it kinda seems like you do, so… Don’t you think you’d want a little help, if you were me? Don’t you think…”

He trails off. This is pointless. Sif sounds like a stranger. Isabeau barely recognizes them.

A subtle movement catches his eye. Sif, biting their lip. “I—um. I guess it’s only fair.”

Isa’s eyes widen. “You’re gonna explain?”

“No.” At the look on his face, Sif heaves a sigh. “Sorry. I’m just… not really sure what to say? But. Um. I know someone who might.”

* * *

There’s something impossible waiting under the Favor Tree. A figure formed from light and shadow, with ink-dark limbs and a shatter of shimmering white where their face should be. Light bleeds out from every seam in their surface, the cracks under their nails and the crease of their eyes and the gaping chest-wound carved into their sternum. Just looking at them hurts Isa’s eyes. (And also his brain.)

They’re not human, that much is clear. But they’re obviously a person. Even without clothes or a mouth or any semblance of solid form, personhood radiates off of them.

Isabeau swallows around the lump in his throat. It’s weird. He can’t put his finger on why, but looking at them makes him feel sort of… lonely? Like he can feel the melancholy washing off of them. Something darker than sadness, more hollow than grief.

—Until the impossible stranger spots him and Siffrin coming up the path. At which point they laugh hysterically for at least five minutes.

“Gee, stardust,” they wheeze at last, making a big show of wiping their eyes. “You sure do get everything you want! I guess you really are the Universe’s favorite!”

“Yeah, right.”

“And now you’ve trapped your Fighter in here with you! Doomed him to split your suffering! Soooo~ romantic!”

Sif rolls his eye. “Loop, this is—“

“I’m aware.”

“And Isa, this is Loop. They use they/them.”

“Uhh,” Isabeau says. “Hi?” Then, elbowing Sif as discreetly as he can while standing in plain sight: “Um. Uh… And Loop is…”

“You know that help you wanted?”

Isa nods.

Sif shrugs at Loop. “So.”

Isabeau looks from one to the other. Wasn’t Sif going to explain? Or… was that supposed to be the explanation?

Loop bursts out laughing. “Wow, stardust. Even for you, that was—wow. And I’ll have you know, my expectations are very low.”

Siffrin shoots them a murderous glare.

Loop bats their eyes at him before turning to wink at Isa. “You’ll have to forgive my darling stardust! He’s a little out of practice.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Sif mutters.

“Stay in your lane, stardust,” Loop says sweetly. “Being mean is my thing.”

Isa holds out both hands. “Look, I’m sorry to interrupt, but can someone maybe catch me up?”

* * *

Loop catches him up.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Isa is swaying on his feet. “So this is… You’re actually time-traveling? It’s not a vision or a dream or something? It’s really actually happening?”

Sif nods.

“And we already beat the King?”

Another nod. “A lot.”

Wow. Well. That’s… sort of encouraging? Except for the part where they’re still stuck here. Isa was hoping that his horrifying visions were a gift from the Change God, to help Mira break the King’s curse. But if that’s not the case… “Then then what is it for?”

Sif shrugs.

Isa turns to Loop.

“Don’t look at me,” Loop snorts. “I’m stuck here, too. If I knew how to break out, don’t you think I would’ve done it already?”

In theory, maybe. But only if they’re actually telling the truth.

“So…” Isa mumbles, darting a glance at Siffrin. “So the loops end when you… die?”

Sif nods.

“We-e-e-elll,” Loop cuts in. “Careful, now! It’s not just when you die, is it, stardust? Wouldn’t want to poison the well with premature assumptions, now, would we?”

Sif glares at them. “Stop trying to influence him.”

“Teehee! Sure thing, stardust! First you just have to stop telling him stuff that’s wrong!”

Isabeau raises his hand.

“Yes?” Loop says, looking amused. “Fighter?”

“Um. I was just wondering… Why does no one else remember? When I talked to Mira, she looked at me like I was—”

“You told Mira?”

Isabeau flinches. Sif’s eyes have gone dark, just as sudden as turning out a light. He’s never seen them look like that before. “Um? I mean? Yyyyyes? Was that not okay?”

Just as quick as it appeared, the shadow lifts. “Of course it’s okay! Why wouldn’t it be? It’s not like you have anything to hide.”

Huh. That's… sort of a weird way to put it. “Um. Sure, I guess. I just mean… why is it only me?”

Loop claps their hands together briskly. “An excellent question! Let’s take a closer look, shall we? Fighter! When did you start to remember?”

“Yesterday,” he says mechanically. He's starting to feel a little lightheaded.

“Teehee! Yes, I’d certainly expect so! But I’m afraid that doesn’t narrow it down much.”

Oh. Right. “Um. Two? Two… loops ago, I guess.”

“Now think hard, stardust! Was there anything memorable, that loop? Anything new?”

Sif chews their lip. “I tried the palmiers…”

“After your Kid made your favorite food just for you?” Loop gasps. “For shame! I’m sure you hurt them grievously! But that would only be relevant if you’d dragged them into this. Try again!”

“I… spent a little longer in the bathroom?”

“You stabbed yourself in front of us!!!” Isa sputters. “You— In the fight with the King, you— With your own dagger!!!!”

“But that’s not—” Sif freezes. “Um. I mean. Yeah. I guess that could be it.”

That’s not new. That’s what they were going to say, isn’t it.

Isabeau feels sick. He feels sick. No matter how slow he breathes, he still can’t catch his breath. “H. How many has it been for you.”

“Not very many,” Sif says, much too quickly for it to be true.

“And you. You—die every time.”

“Not every time.”

“But most of them.”

Sif looks away. “…Most of them.”

Isabeau’s vision blurs. Sif was so quick, when they cut their own throat. They didn’t even hesitate. Like it was rote, mundane. Practiced. One quick clean slice to sever their external and internal carotid. Cutting off the flow of blood to their brain; starving their nervous system of oxygen so completely that, in a minute's time, they wouldn't even feel the pain. Another minute and there’d be no one left to feel anything at all.

How many times has Sif died, without anyone knowing? How many times did they do it on purpose?

“I,” he chokes out. “I—have to go to the bathroom.”

“Isa, wait—”

But he’s already running. Running away from the things he can’t bear to see, just like the bad old days, before he learned how to pretend he wasn’t scared. It’s almost nostalgic.

He makes it as far as the field south of town before he collapses under a tree. His head feels swollen, his throat clogged shut. Crying, still, but losing steam. That was always the best thing about running away. By the time you’re too tired to move, you don’t have enough energy left to cry.

“You’re really slow,” a familiar voice says, from immediately behind him.

Isa almost jumps out of his skin. “Wh— Sif??? When did you—”

“The whole time.” Sif shifts his weight from one foot to the other. They still won’t look at him. “Sorry. I got worried.”

Isabeau barks a laugh. “Pretty sure I'm not the one to worry about here!!!” When Sif just stares at him, blank-faced, he throws his hands up. “You!! I obviously meant you!!”

“Oh. Well, um. Don’t? I can't die, remember?”

…None of this matters, they told him, at the beginning of it all.

Isa feels sick.

Sif tilts their head at him, curious. “Isa?”

“Just—give me a second.” He lets his eyes fall shut, grinds his palms into his eyelids. “That… person. Loop. Who are they to you?”

“Oh. I guess they’re… sort of like my… helper?”

“Okay, but like. What are they?”

“Umm…”

“Who are they?”

“…”

“How do you know them?”

“They just sort of showed up,” Sif says, shrugging. “And… sometimes I can hear them in my head.”

Oh. Uh. Okay. That’s… not exactly what he expected. “Are you sure we can trust them?”

“Oh, definitely not.” At the look on his face, Sif grimaces. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how.”

“Well, I can't trust them to be honest,” Sif explains. “Or straightforward. Or nice. Or to want what’s best for me. Or… to be very helpful, mostly.”

“Uh huh…?”

“But I can trust that they hate it here. They’re stuck here, too. That’s not a lie.”

Isa’s face scrunches. “But how do you know?”

“I just know.”

…Huh. “Wow, Sif. You’re, uh. A lot more trusting than I would’ve guessed.”

Sif shrugs diffidently. “We’ve been through a lot.”

How much, though? How much is a lot? Ten deaths? Twenty? “Ummm. Sif?”

Siffrin looks at him.

“How long has it been for you? How many loops, I mean.”

“Oh,” Sif mumbles, looking away. “Um. I don’t know. I guess I had a little too much time on my hands, haha.” When Isabeau just keeps staring, Sif huffs defensively. “It’s not like I could take notes. It’d get wiped every loop.”

Isabeau lets out his breath. “Okay.”

“...Okay?”

“Okay. Okay, I…” Yeah, no, he was trying to be cool but he absolutely cannot do this. “You could take a guess, though, surely. Right? Like… a rough estimate?”

Sif doesn’t answer.

Yikes. Okay, well. That’s not super encouraging.

Okay!!” Isa says, a little too loud. “Sure! That’s totally fine, I totally get it! But it’s— You don’t have to hide anymore, you know? If we both go and tell the others, they’ll have to believe us!”

Siffrin’s face shutters. “No.”

“N-No?”

“We don’t involve them.”

“Pretty sure they’re already involved…”

Sif just shakes his head.

“Oh,” Isabeau mumbles. “Um… How many times have you tried?”

No answer.

“Umm.” Isa shifts his weight. “Your, um, friend said it wasn’t just your death that ends a loop…”

Sif stays silent, but his face tightens.

“…so I guess I was wondering if there’s, like, maybe another way? If, um… maybe it doesn’t have to hurt like that?” In his mind’s eye he can still see Siffrin torn open, bleeding. The light fading from his eye.

“No,” Sif says flatly.

“But— But what about—”

“No.”

“But why not though?”

“Why are you so obsessed with this?” Sif hisses. Isa’s never heard them sound so outright angry. “You just got here. You barely even know what's going on.”

“So tell me!!”

"I can’t. I don’t know either.”

“So then why are you so sure that you have to die???”

Sif’s lip curls. “Is this in your Defender training or something? This isn’t your job, Isa. You’re just supposed to beat the King. I’m supposed to make sure you can do it without dying.”

“But why? Why does it have to—”

“Why are we still talking about this?” Siffrin snarls. “Why can’t you just stick to the blinding script?”

“Wh-What?”

Sif’s eye widens. “I—um. I didn’t—”

Something twists in Isa’s stomach. His vision blurs, and then he’s—somewhere else. Not far. Just a few feet from where he was just standing. It takes him a second to realize that Sif’s moved, too. They’re standing behind him again, like they were when he first got here.

Isa stumbles a little as he pushes himself to his feet. “What just… D-Did we just loop?”

“I’msorryimsorryimsorry,” Sif blurts out, in one frantic exhale. “I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t trying to, I just got—“


“So it’s not just dying!!!!”

Sif stares. “Huh?”

“When you loop! It’s not just when you die! You literally just did it!! Without dying!!!”

“I,” Siffrin mumbles. “I, I didn’t mean to, I—“

“That’s obviously not the important part!!!”

Sif stares for even longer this time. “Oh. I see. But—no. You don’t understand. I can’t control it, it just… happens sometimes. The only way I can control it is if I die.”

“Have you even tried?”

“Um. Yes? Sort of.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to try harder!!” Isabeau is aware that he sounds a little crazy. In his defense, this is a pretty crazy situation. “I’m not just gonna watch you die over and over, Sif! That’s crabbing crazy!!!”

And there it is again. That flash of something hollow in Sif’s eye. Something hungry, something dark. “You think you could stop me?”

“YEAH, actually! I kinda think I could!!”’

Sif laughs. Not a happy laugh. It’s one of the least-happy sounds that Isa’s ever heard. “Hehe. Maybe. Do you wanna find out?”

Before Isa can open his mouth to answer, they’ve already got their knife in their hand, blade pressed tight against their throat. Isabeau lurches forward, ready to, he doesn’t know, tackle them to the ground or something? Hold them down and pry the hilt out of their stupid stubborn hands? But before he can close the space, Sif has flipped the blade shut and secreted it away in his cloak.

“Change!!!” Isa gasps. “What are you— Why would you— What?????”

Sif shrugs. “I wasn’t going to do it. I was just explaining. It’s been a long day, okay? ‘Cut me’ some slack.” When Isa just keeps staring, trying to remember how to breathe, they roll their eye. “What. You don’t like puns anymore?”

…Isabeau needs to sit down.

He can feel Sif’s gaze on him, bright and curious, as he stoops over and very slowly lays down on the ground. He thought he’d always want to look at Sif, but he can’t see them right now. He covers his face with both hands. “Sif…”

“Isa.”

“How long have you been stuck here.”

"Um. Well. Technically, two days."

“Sif.”

Siffrin lets out his breath. “…A pretty long time.”

Yeah. Isabeau was starting to get that impression.

“Okay,” he says numbly. “I think I need to. Um. Think. About this. For a little.” When he uncovers his face, Sif is still standing over him, looking vaguely perturbed and a little annoyed. He lets his palms fall back over his eyes. “...Alone.”

Sif doesn’t answer, but he can hear the leaves crunch as they wander away.

Change. Change. It’s what happened with Bonnie all over again, except a million times worse.

Of course Isa knew that Siffrin wasn’t brimming with self-preservation instinct. Or self-esteem. Or… almost any regard for his own life. After losing their eye, Sif was the only one who never cried. Mira was a nervous wreck for weeks. Bonnie was even worse. Even Madame Odile lost her composure the first time she changed their wound dressing. But when Sif finally woke up, he seemed more confused than anything else. He was only really upset about having upset everyone else.

Of course Sif thinks it doesn’t matter, dying and dying and dying without anyone ever knowing. They’ve never cared what happened to them, have they?

Luckily, Isabeau cares enough for the both of them.

###

On his way to the Clocktower, he nearly walks right into Odile.

“Isabeau! Watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry, M’dame!! I’ve just, um. Got a lot on my mind.”

“I saw you and Siffrin running around earlier,” she tells him, with a knowing gleam. “You two looked thick as thieves.”

“Haha, uh. Yeah.” That’s one way to put it.

Odile narrows her eyes. “I would’ve thought you’d be happier.”

“I— I mean, yeah! Of course! I’m… Do I not seem happy?”

“No, you decidedly do not.”

Of course not. Stupid. Odile is way too sharp to try to fool with such an obvious lie. Isa tries to smile for her, but he can’t make it fit.

Annnnd now she looks outright suspicious. “Is something the matter, Isabeau?”

Change. There is nothing he’d like more than to tell her everything. Who’s better-qualified than Madame Odile to learn the rules to a rigged game? But he can’t stop seeing Sif in his mind’s eye. We don’t involve them. You just got here. You barely even know what’s going on.

…Yeah, no. He can’t do it.

Isabeau rubs the back of his neck, pastes on a sheepish grin. “Just, uh. A little nervous for tomorrow, I guess.” When she still looks unconvinced, he throws in a little honesty, just to give it the ring of truth. “I just… really care about you guys, you know? All of you. If anything happened to—to Bonnie, or to Mira…”

“Or to Siffrin.”

He winces. “Heh. Yeah. You got me.”

“I suppose it’s only natural,” she sighs. “You young people have too much energy. When you get to my age, you learn to stop worrying about everything that might go wrong.”

“Oh, yeah? So you’re not stressed at all, huh?”

“Would I say so otherwise?”

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“...No.”

He grins at her—a real one this time. “Then of course not, M’dame. Clearly, you’re not worried in the slightest.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she snorts. “Now, if you’re quite finished, I believe Mirabelle is waiting for us.”

He gestures at the path ahead, gives her a theatrical little flourish. “After you, M’dame.”

* * *

He can’t bring himself to talk to Sif at dinner. It’s hard enough, just trying to act normal on what is easily the least-normal day of his life. He doesn’t even really look at them until they’re already in bed.

Sif’s eyes are closed. It looks like he's actually asleep, somehow, in spite of. You know. Everything.

Isa can’t say the same. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Siffrin choking on blood. He can’t stop remembering holding them in his arms like a broken bird. How light they felt, like a paper doll. And how cold.

“Sif,” he whispers.

Sif doesn’t move.

“Psst. Siffrin. Sif.”

Clearly reluctantly, Sif cracks an eyelid to glare at him.

“I know I can’t stop you,” Isabeau whispers. “Okay? So I'm asking— I am begging you, Sif, please, please, please don’t do it with the dagger. I can’t— It isn’t fair, you have to see that. Please.”

Sif eyes him warily. “It wouldn’t be as gross if you didn’t always get so close.”

Change. He wants to grab them and shake them. He almost does it. He feels wildly unhinged. “It’s not about—!!!” Isabeau takes a breath, lowers his voice. “Sif, I— I care about you a lot. Like. Literally so much.” Probably a little too much. “You know that, right?”

Sif looks away.

Isa tries another angle. “What if it was one of us? If you had to watch that happen to Mira, or—“

“No.”

“…Just no?”

Sif shakes their head. “It couldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let it.”

“Okay! See, now we’re getting somewhere! That’s how I feel about—”

There’s a blur of white, and a pillow pelts him square in the face.

[lanternlightss]

More ISAT & Old Mond Thoughts ™

Rhw and Isabeau. They’re both “defenders” in some way or another, the type of people to be in the frontlines. They would be able to balance eachother out- isabeau being outwardly friendly and extroverted yet oblivious to things with a low self-esteem, while rhw would come across as stern and coldhearted yet fairly observant, but he has a soft spot for people he genuinely trusts and cares about. While the king and deca are the type of people to say “i want to protect you” <- ends up making people’s lives far worse/evil with morally grey intentions, isa and rhw are “i want to protect you” <- genuinely wants to help others. Also. isabeau holding rhw’s claymore.

Mirabelle and Gunnhildr both being “blessed” by their respective “gods”, while being resistant to the most immediate danger (time freeze and the blizzards). Sadly I do not know much about gunnhildr or her ideals (hoyo please give us more gunnhildr lore please) however I can figure out a way to tie this into mirabelle’s “What if I don’t want to change and just stay how I am”. Mira giving gunnhildr a bow for her to put onto her ponytail. “Chosen one” type characters <- not the protagonists

Now here’s where things start falling apart a bit for my theories- bonnie and wispti are both A- short B- childish and C- more sidelines/support characters. Wispti sitting in bonnie’s hat. The two of them running around (is it still running if you’re flying?). Them constantly sneaking food into places. Wispti giving snacks to bonnie from places they should not legally be going into.

Which. brings me to my next point. For starters, I have neither gotten the twohats ending nor have i played the prologue (But I do plan to do both!! eventually!!) but I have been repeatedly spoiled. So. Loop and (venti? barbatos?). First of all how are wind wisps in the AU both things that just so happen to exist along with technically being two separate companions. Second. Loop and venti being heavily associated with time. Venti either being made entirely of wind or wearing something resembling his archon statue cloak, his skin being the same dark void featured on his wind wisp form. Then again he would look more humanoid from the neck up than loop does. Ven and loop both being the “guardians” of their respective “protagonists,” along with “being them” in some way, however I don’t actually know much of the context behind the relationship loop and siffrin have with eachother so I can’t say much further.

Odile and Amos bonding over being the oldest member of their party (Amos only being a few years or so older than rhw however. if you take the immortal amos theory into consideration.) They need a coffee and a break. Cannot deal with this. Perceptive over others. Amos constantly complaining about The Divorce to odile. They both have a diamond motif on their clothes. They take care of the other party members (mentor of sorts)

Unfortunately I don’t know what to do with the Head Housemaiden. Only thing I can think of is Istaroth being her counterpart but istaroth is the time god herself while euphrasie is only a representative (I could be wrong about this since the wiki doesn’t say much about her yet)

This took way too long to write. I am so normal

ohhh my goodnesss isabeau and rhw together …. that is SUCH a fun dynamic to think about real holy ??? especially with the way isabeau was The Only defender who actually went out of their way to help when asked (iirc), rhw would respect him so much for that (and this is leaning into hc territory—but if rhw was the same way too, another thing to bond over ….) and i see you raising isa wielding rhw’s claymore and cheering as loud as possible over the idea of him holding a weapon nearly as tall as he is and doing it powerfully and gracefully but i also raise you. rhw using isabeau’s gloves. rhw catalyst—except he punches the lights out of you, all physical, no elemental. also the image of him with those sparkling gems of gloves is so .

ALSO YEAH YEAH THEM AND BEING “CHOSEN….” gunnhildr leading her clan, trying her best for everyone to be happy…. mirabelle not wanting to let anyone down for being a “fraud” …. so you ?? yeah, same here. gunnhildr with a bow would be so so so so cute too. feeling buddies …. 2 !!! the weight of the world won’t feel as heavy if we lift it together !!!!

and oh god the influence wispti will have on bonnie. bard and co have already swayed that wisp plenty and now they get to be the ones doing the swaying. oh god. god you’re so real. wispti voice i will teach you everything you need to know (<- about to make bonnie have the most saddest puppy eyes in existence of this world, the effects of this will be catastrophic.)

(also oh ? one day !!) But i am nodding along. so much. when in doubt timeline shenanigans come in clutch /lh but . maybee . hmmm . since timeloops Are possible in the genshin verse, i wonder if there are other ways to make one. more specifically, the leyylinesss ……..?? maybe that can be mashed together with stars and time’s “timeloops ghosts” ? glitchy venti. Spitballing. but. I Am Looking. that sounds SO COOL. (i am also :3’ing.)

amos and odile sounds like such a power duo. voice of reason (majority time.) and amos talking about the divorce too 😭😭 oh my goodness odile would be constantly using her squinting, confused sprite. odile would be ruthless in her observations of deca. she has a section of notes on him specifically that started off “things thatd come in handy” to “what was this guys deal” (also there’s an immortal amos theory ??????????)

and the head housemaiden yeah ……. hm . hm . there Are shrine maiden’s in genshin ,,,, but. hm . hmmmmmmm . i half wonder if maybe this would be more The Universe’s territory ? maybe a room dedicated solely to time itself. hm . but i am pointing !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[cake-apostate]

Pre-Canon Hallelujah headcanon

You never find out what Hallelujah actually did in the Ashura-Kai. Everyone else, you get a general idea of what they did before; Nanashi and Asahi were training as Cadets, Navarre was dead, Nozomi was a Hunter and then quit to take care of the Fairies, Gaston only recently became a Samurai, Toki was training as an assassin, and we see what Isabeau was up to. But what did Hallelujah do? He’s Abe’s errand boy, but Abe only joined the Ashura-Kai after Tayama’s death, and Hallelujah’s been a member for five years. 

My theory is that Hallelujah was Tayama’s secret bodyguard. Tayama’s already got the National Defense Divinities to show off; Hallelujah’s there to protect him in places where he can’t or shouldn’t bring overt muscle. He looks human and doesn’t need weapons, so he could attend meetings as a clerk, secretary, or assistant. If things go south, he’d hurl True Bufudyne at the offenders, but he’s not bad as an actual clerk.

But how did the Ashura-Kai know that Hallelujah was half-demon? Since Abe was said to have come out of nowhere after Tayama’s death, he couldn’t have told them. In the artbook, Hallelujah killed an Ashura-Kai loan shark for harassing his mother when he was little, so that probably drew their attention. His mother immediately went on the run, so it took them a few years to find them.

I don’t have a good grasp of Yakuza member statistics and ranks, but a not insignificant percentage knows Hallelujah’s real job. All of the higher-ups know. Anyone who’s been a bodyguard at these meetings have to know, too, because it shouldn’t come as a surprise if the secretary starts shooting fireballs; this includes a lot of the senior toughs like Ken. Some of these tough guys also trained him. Some random people found out by accident early on; Hallelujah couldn’t always control his powers. 

Hallelujah ends up being treated unusually well; a Hunter in SMT4 mentions that you have to keep dealing Reds for years before the Ashura-Kai makes you a full member, and they just let in this ten-year-old?! Why isn’t he sent to the Reverse Hills? The official coverup is that Hallelujah is Tayama’s sister’s bastard and he promised to take care of the kid, and the coverup behind that is Hallelujah is Tayama’s bastard. A lot of people dislike him for nepotism, and Hallelujah has since realized that he can’t prevent this. 

After Tayama goes missing, Hallelujah gets a soft demotion to general clerk; it’s not like he held any other official title, anyway. Those in the know might blame him for not being there for him; I don’t think he could have been at the Reactor, because then either he’d kill Walter or Walter would have killed him. Maybe Tayama couldn’t bring him to the Reactor without a good excuse, and everyone figured the National Defense Divinities would have been enough?

Once Abe takes over, he recruits Hallelujah as the errand boy, and the rest is history. 

(Yes, a lot of this was in another post I made.)

[awesomerextyphoon]

Speculum Cupido

Summary: You’ve been Dr. Strange’s apprentice for some time now and you wanted to prove your best friend wrong. It goes awry and both of you find yourselves in a ‘dark mirror’ universe where the Captain, the Asset, the Kraken, and the Fallen Angel want to make both of you theirs.

Pairing: Dark!Steve x Female Reader x Dark!Ransom, minor Dark!Bucky x OFC x Dark!Sam

Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Word Count: 3,072

Warning: Dub/Non-Con Smut, Oral (m & f receiving), Daddy Kink, MMF Threesome, Double Penetration, Spit Roasting, Non-Con Drugging, Breeding Kink, and Artistic License w/Biology

A/N: This is my gift to @labella420​ for @drabblewithfrannybarnes​, @chrissquares​ , and @amythedvdhoarder​’s Happy Hoelentine’s Day Challenge.  Dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics​. Shout out to @saiyanprincessswanie​ for letting me borrow an idea of hers for this fic. Thanks to @the-soulofdevil​ for the beta.

Back to Masterlist

Another Valentine’s Day, another day for the world to mock me being single.

You were having enough of a ‘meh’ week as it is. Dr. Strange had to return to Kamar-Taj for an in-person meeting and Wong was who knows where. They had instructed you to work on your portal and transfiguration spells while they were away which was fair since you’ve been lacking in that department.

It’s just that you longed for some excitement.

Luckily you wouldn’t be spending Valentine’s completely alone; Isabeau, your best friend, was coming over due to as she put it, ‘no one cares about a day where all one gets is somewhat good sex’.

Fast Forward two hours and you’re getting your room ready for Galentine’s Day Movie Night. You had decked out your room with homemade baked goods, drinks, best friend movies, all the good shit.

“I have wonderful news!” Isabeau burst in with gusto yet again.

You shot her a bemused smile, “What is it this time?”

“I have a new crush! It’s Eric from IT!”

“Are you sure this won’t end up like last time?” you queried in reference to the time when Isabeau’s crush turned out to be a complete asshole.

“Oh hush! This won’t be like that at all,” Isabeau retorted, “Now how about you? Have you had any luck with a hot sorcerer?”

“If only I’d be so lucky,” you muttered as Isabeau started on the Toffee Crunch Cookies you made.

A few minutes later, Isabeau’s eyes narrowed and her full lips curved upward in a mischievous smirk.

She had one of her ideas again.

“Hey, why don’t you try an ambiance spell. They’re harmless and you always feel better afterward.”

You didn’t like casting them due to something always going awry, but you relented once Isabeau broke out her puppy dog eyes.

“Alright, alright, I give,” you submitted, “I’ll try a simple floating star spell. Let me find the book.”

 Both of you went to the library for the book but it was nowhere to be found. All of the ambiance and illusion books were blank.

“Is this a sorcerer thing? I’m not seeing any words or illustrations,” puzzled Isabeau as you went through book after book in the library only to find them blank.

“No. Maybe we should just go back to my room,” you suggested as you made your way to the exit.

“Wait! There’s one book left. You could try that one.” Isabeau pointed to the last book on the shelf. It was a little worn like many of the books that resided in the library, but the inscriptions seemed odd; like it wasn’t supposed to be there.

Yet it was the only book that had anything in it.

“Fine,” you relented as you took the book back to your room.

  The spells in the book weren’t anything out of the ordinary, but one spell seemed to stand out to both of you.

“Speculum Mundus?” Isabeau wondered.

“It means Mirror World in Latin.”

“Oh,” her eyes got a mischievous glint to them again, “I bet you can’t cast the spell.”

“Not this again.”

“Oh come on,” Isabeau goaded, “It’s a simple mirror world spell. You’ve done it before. What’s the worse that can happen?”

“I don’t know…”

“Are you gonna chicken out again?”

“No! Just give me a minute,” you mumbled as your hands got into the starting position and recited the incantation.

  The room changed instantly.

It was filled with prism-like structures and kaleidoscope imagery giving the space a surreal ambiance.

It wasn’t unlike the last time you went into the Quantum Realm with Dr. Strange and Wong, and yet the hair on the back of your neck stood straight, and a chill shot through your spine.

You heard a gasp and turned around to see Isabeau with her protruding eyes opened wide and her mouth gaping. Following her line of sight, you saw four of the hottest men you’ve ever seen.

Though something was amiss.

For one thing, there were two Steve Rogers; one with a beard and one clean-shaven. Bucky Barnes’ arm was silver and not dark gray with gold highlights. All of them were in black uniforms with sections of vermillion and/or maroon. Clean-shaven Steve had a black tactical suit with a vermillion Kraken on his chest. Bearded Steve had a skull with tentacles on it. Sam had three vermillion stripes and one maroon stripe across his chest and shoulders with a falcon’s head in red surrounded by a black circle between his pecs.

But the thing that set off all your alarms was the fact that Bucky’s outfit was a dead ringer of his Winter Soldier days.

Instinctively, you grabbed Isabeau’s hand and made a mad dash for the hallway. You needed to get some distance so you could ground yourself.

You tried breaking the spell but to no avail. Not only did the spell not break, but your hands also burned at each attempt.

“We won’t lose you again!” one of the Steves yelled as you and Isabeau turned a corner.

“Come here, mici prințese!” another voice, probably Bucky’s shouted as the two of you made your way into a closet.

“I think we’re okay for now,” you breathed telepathically as the four Adonises crept past your hiding place.

“What’s the plan now?” Isabeau asked fearfully as her heartbeat started to rise in terror.

“I don’t know but-” you were cut off by a strike to the back of your head and your vision rapidly fading to black.

  Muffled voices and the beeping of medical equipment brought you from the void.

“Nothing is wrong….they’re…good, sir.”

“Be sure that they are. We can’t leave anything up to chance.”

Groggily, you open your eyes to find yourself in a sleek hospital room lightly chained to a bed. Several other people were monitoring your vitals. One of them is Dr. Bruce Banner, or what seems to be Dr. Banner.

Bruce turned to see you looking around with a slightly confused expression, “Ah, you’re awake,” he turned to one of his aides, “Contact the Captain and Lieutenant. Tell them to come to get their bride.”

You blinked. Bride?

“Where is Isabeau, my friend?” you inquired as one of the aides brought you some water.

Bruce scowled, “Don’t think about her. You might be able to see her if the Captain and/or Lieutenant wills it.” he remarked while eyeing you up and down in a condescending almost lecherous manner, “Hmm, looks great for breeding,” Bruce noted as he fondled and prodded your curves.

You’ve always been proud of how you looked, but at that moment you wanted to shrink in the corner after giving this Bruce a roundhouse kick to the groin.

You were about to tell Dark!Bruce to fuck off when Tony Stark, fuck it, Dark!Tony entered the room. This Tony looked a lot more sinister with his silver, gray, light, and steel navy blue armor. His face and hair were mostly uncovered with his facial expression positively predatory.

“Cap’s one lucky bastard. He gets a sexy bunny along with Lieutenant Smart Ass.”

Recalling how some megalomaniacs liked shows of submissiveness, you lowered your head and asked where you were.

Whether it be out of pity, spite, or malice, Tony answered your question, “You’re in another earth, another universe.”

You nearly swiveled to look outside the window. NYC’s skyline was radically different. There were fewer buildings and HYDRA insignias everywhere.

“HYDRA took over this world.” You deadpanned. FUUUUCK!

“Sexy and smart.” Tony praised sardonically.

It didn’t take time for HYDRA to regroup after WWII. Zola and his associates were able to convince Howard Stark to give them the Tesseract with the promise of great renown, riches, and no longer being bound by the laws of weaker men. They were able to create a superweapon with the help of Dr. Whitney Frost and have been ruling the planet ever since.

It could be worse. HYDRA knew they had to offer the people comforts in exchange for their obedience. They eradicated all diseases, created a good standard of living, and ended all petty conflicts under the new world order.

Though Tony didn’t feel the need to tell you. You’ll figure it out on your own.

The doors opened to reveal Steve Rogers and his younger, clean-shaven counterpart in all their masculine glory.

“Good, you’re here.” Bruce welcomed smirking at your silent pleas.

Both soldiers walked over and inspected you.

“Hello, kitten. Name’s Ransom.” The clean-shaven soldier drawled as he moaned from your scent, “Nice set of lips you’ve got there.”

“We’ll definitely have some fun with her,” Steve noted as licked his lips ogling your curves.

You had to use all of your restraint not to spit in their faces.

“We’ll take her.” Ransom decided while Steve nodded.

Several of the aides breathed a sigh of relief as Steve broke the chains on your bed like they were nothing.

“Don’t have too much fun now!” Tony called as Steve picked you up bridal style.

“Who am I kidding? they’ll breed her like a Catholic rabbit!”

  “Um, where are you taking me?” you queried, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You will address us as ‘Sir’ in public unless instructed otherwise. Is that understood?” It took all that Steve had not to push against the wall and pound your pussy with his cock he was so enraged.

No, he needed to wait. No one was to see what’s theirs.

Ransom, for his part, chuckled and shook his head, “Best not to anger this one, kitten. He hasn’t been in the best of moods.”

  You gasped once the doors to their living quarters opened.

The place was huge!

It had a modern yet retro design; it should’ve been confusing, but it worked. Grand windows showcased the skyline with a balcony in the middle with a huge kitchen next to what looked to be a restaurant-style fridge and a huge living room with a TV and a fireplace.

Yet there seemed to be something missing.

“Place needs a woman’s touch,” Ransom commented sending a smirk your way.

“I’ll see you in the guest quarters Ransom” Steve deadpanned as he led you down a hall.

  The bedroom was enormous yet sparse like they didn’t know what to do with it.

You were about to say something when Steve dropped you onto the incredibly soft mattress. His eyes darkened with lust and you knew what he wanted. You couldn’t think of a way out of this, not with the magic inhibitors Bruce placed on your wrists.

Maybe you could give escape one last try; you just had to wait for the right opening.

Steve smirked upon seeing you removing your clothes. He liked that you knew your place, his pretty little princess.

You could only gasp when Steve removed his uniform top. He had an incredibly defined musculature: broad shoulders, beefy biceps, chiseled pecs and abs, and a seriously drool-worthy Adonis Belt. The light shining behind him made his body appear even more glorious.

Steve looked like an ancient god brought to modern times.

With a predatory smirk, Steve slowly crawled to you loving the smell of your arousal. “Let me lay out a few rules, sweetheart. You will make our meals, clean our rooms, bear our children, and be our good little whore. You must earn the right to wear a bra; panties are out of the question.”

Each rule was emphasized by a kiss or a love bite to your jaw, neck, collarbone, and shoulders.

Finally, you are to address us as Sir in public and Daddy in private. Say it.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you muttered with your eyes downcast.

Steve lifted your chin up with his forefinger, “That’s a good girl,” and brought you in for a kiss on the lips.

The kiss was demanding yet soft. You were surprised he was capable of such gentleness.

Steve was about to push his tongue into his mouth when Ransom strolled into the room.

“Does she know the drill?”

Steve broke the kiss with a smirk,” Just finished explaining it.”

Ransom shot you a sardonic smirk, “You got the rules, kitten? Good. Now if you misbehave, I’m gonna send you to the dungeons for a few days.”

Steve started up again, “But...if you’re good-”

“A good little wifey,” Ransom interjected caressing your right cheek and leaning in for a kiss.

This kiss started off soft then intensified (really know how to lure a girl) into one filled with passion and dominance. Ransom forced his tongue into and moaned at your taste. A few seconds later he was pushing what felt like a small tablet past your tongue forcing you to swallow.

“Did you do it yet?”

“Cool it, grandpa! I did, don’t you worry. She’s gonna feel it. Aren’t ya, kitten.”

You started to feel strange. Your body temperature skyrocketed, your mind was in a deep haze, your thighs were clenching on overtime you were so turned on. You needed relief and fast.

“Please Daddies!” you begged as you tried your best not to touch yourself.

“See grandpa? She’s ready.” Ransom purred as he grabbed your thighs and placed them over his shoulders. He planted a few kisses near your entrance and groaned at the smell of your arousal.

It only took one long, slow lick to your slit to turn you into a moaning mess. You couldn’t believe the pleasure you were feeling. It was like a bolt of lightning shot through you.

Ransom groaned at the taste of your juices. Not even Stark’s overpriced chefs could compare. “Fuck, she tastes divine,” he groaned and dove in for more. Ransom attacked your folds and swollen clit with insane intensity and precision alternating between his tongue and fingers.

You were on cloud nine. Each motion took you further to the precipice of an orgasm. Ransom kept bringing you back from the edge only thrust you back into his level of tumultuous.

Steve got in on the action by covering your moans with a kiss of all-consuming passion and started playing with your breasts.

“Fuck, these tits are amazing! Can’t wait until these are filled with milk” Steve purred as he took one of your nipples into his mouth and the other between his big and forefingers.

After twenty minutes of teasing, Ransom finally let you come. A volcanic eruption of ecstasy erupted from your core and Ransom lapped up all of your juices.

“Rogers, you’re in for a treat!” Ransom exclaimed as he hopped off the edge of the mattress.

“I get her pussy first since you got to eat her out,” Steve uttered as grinned at your blissed-out state.

With a tsk, both of them got you into position with Steve’s thick, muscular thighs on either side of your hips and Ransom standing in front of you taking off his pants.

He was huge! His cock was long, thick, and veiny. It wobbled against his masterfully sculpted abs with each step he took. You wondered how that was going to fit in your mouth. Turns out Steve’s was no smaller if his tip being coated with your slick is any indication.

“This won’t hurt, kitten. You were made for us.” Ransom cooed.

You didn’t know how right he was.

Steve made his move by pushing into you inch by delicious inch and moaned at the sensation. “Fuck, she fits like a dream.”

“Don’t take forever, grandpa.” Ransom chided.

“Shut up, ya punk!” Steve retorted as he began thrusting into you loving the way your pussy clenched around him like a vice’s grip.

“Open wide, kitten,” Ransom started to push his throbbing cock into your mouth.

It took a bit of time and effort to loosen your jaw enough for him to fully enter you. He started fucking your mouth before you were ready. You tried not to gag he was so rough.

What happened to the man from earlier?

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Ransom breathed as he was approaching his climax.

Steve came with a primal roar that reverberated throughout the room after making you come two more times.

“Swallow it, kitten” Ransom ordered.

Funny thing is, you didn’t need the order. You delighted in the salty, tangy, and slightly sweet flavor.

Two minutes after you swallowed all of Ransom’s spent, both men decided it was time to move. Ransom got onto the mattress and pulled you on top of him with his tip nudging your entrance. Steve got behind you and placed kisses along the juncture between your neck and shoulders while positioning himself at your ass.

“Please...please don’t do this!” you pleaded, the pill’s effect slipping for the tiniest of moments.

Steve grabbed your neck with just enough force to pause, not hurt.” Best be a good girl now, sweetheart,” he warned.

Ransom slid in first, “Holy fucking shit!” he moaned, “Sam owes me $40.

“That depends on how well their bride is taking to them,” Steve pointed out.

“Eh, we’ll say ours is better.”

Ransom moaned again once he bottomed out and grabbed the globes of your blessed backside. He couldn’t wait to grab and smack it around in their quarters.

Steve moved slowly causing both of your breathing to hitch, his from pleasure and yours from slight pain.

With a grin and smirk, they started moving in tandem. Your body almost couldn’t take the immense pleasure you were feeling.

“I could get used to this,” Ransom remarked.

“Well, we have the week,” Steve breathed past your ear.

Both kept at it until they came in you twice. You nearly passed out after your twelfth orgasm.

“Rest kitten,” Ransom purred as you finally gave in to your exhaustion.

  “The bride took to our seed,” Steve reported to Director Pierce.

“Good. We found their parents along with the rest of the resistance.” Pierce imparted.

Steve scowled at the information.

You and your friend, Isabeau, were the only ones to survive the Eve Project. HYDRA wanted to genetically groom compatible brides for their top soldiers. You were promised to Steve and Ransom and your friend to Bucky and Sam. Both of you were whisked away to another Earth by the resistance and your treacherous parents.

Now you were back where you belong.

“When do we leave?” Ransom growled.

“Once Strange and Wanda crack the protection spell. In the meantime, enjoy your bride.” Pierce turned to leave, but stopped before turning off the screen,” I want to see some little ones soon.”

[a-series-of-whumpy-events]

Ah, I remember writing this in the back of a car while my sister took a left turn like a NASCAR driver in a church parking lot. Three-way driving lessons = writing time but also unpredictable speed changes and turns.

Anyway, here’s the next part of Gamble! Ugh, I love this series so much.

Warnings: minor discussions of violence

Taglist: @winedark-whump @whumpers-inc @pepperonyscience @redwingedwhump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @stab-the-son-of-a @caspia-writes @kim-poce @screechingqueenmentality @nine-tailed-whump @worstcasescenariolullaby @newbornwhumperfly

Gamble Part 2

Sir Myles stroked Johara’s nose, laughing as the mare pushed into his palm. “You can handle a bit more weight today, can’t you, my beautiful?” She whinnied, tossing her head. “Well, seeing as how I can’t tell if that’s a yes or a no, we’ll throw in some extra oats tonight and call it even, hmm?”

“She’s a beautiful horse,” Sir Robert remarked, coming up from behind Sir Myles. “You breed them yourself?”

“Yes, my Arabians are my passion,” Sir Myles answered. “Not as big or strong as your warhorses, but there’s nothing like them for speed. My stallion, Malik, is the fastest I’ve ever seen.”

“That is the downside of my warhorses- they’re such large creatures that their speed leaves something to be desired,” Sir Robert agreed. He reached out to pet Johara’s nose. “She really is a beauty. I’d have been honored to win her.”

“Until that last roll, I was certain you would. You’re an excellent dice player.”

“You as well. Unfortunately for you, I would not count it as lucky to take the prize you won. My Squire is…the word obstinate comes to mind. Can’t get him to do anything, and most of what he does is done wrong. I’m afraid you’ve got the bad end of our deal, Sir Myles.”

Sir Myles kept smiling, wondering how many times the little Squire had heard such cruel words. “I’ll manage, Sir Robert.”

“I’m sure. Let me fetch the lad while you finish with your horse.”

Sir Myles waited until the man’s footsteps faded away, then sighed, leaning his head against Johara’s shoulder. “This is going to be a rough one, eh, my beautiful? And of course I still need to worry about what Beau will say.”

He put aside his thoughts and turned his attention to getting Johara ready to leave Castle Drakehold. She stood still and patient while he tacked her up, only shifting a little. Sir Myles made sure to pet and praise her as he worked. She seemed excited to leave, stamping when he opened the stall door and tossing her head up and down as he led her from the stable. “I know, my beautiful, you’re eager to be home,” Sir Myles said to calm her, running his fingers through Johara’s mane.

“She’s even more lovely in the sun,” Sir Robert’s now-familiar voice rang out. “Ah, we’ll have to play another game of dice sometime. I’d love another chance at winning her.”

Sir Myles smiled. “I would certainly not turn that down,” he said, his eyes on the small figure trailing after Sir Robert.

Sir Robert stepped forward and held out an arm, and the two Knights shook hands. “I hope to see you again sometime,” Sir Robert declared.

“Same to you,” Sir Myles said, keeping his smile up. He put his foot in the stirrup and settled himself onto Johara’s back. “Perhaps next time at my castle?”

“I’d be happy to take you up on that.” Sir Robert grabbed the boy and shoved him forward. “As promised, sir, your prize.”

Sir Myles glanced over the boy, his heart aching at the many little things that seemed so wrong on him- the faded blue and white livery hanging loosely off of him, the dark bruise staining his freckled face, the pale scar that traced across his left cheek and down through the edge of his mouth. He shifted backward, making room for the boy in front of him, but Sir Robert waved his hand. “There’s no need for that. The lad can walk. He’s stronger than he seems.”

I highly doubt that. In front of the other Knight, however, Sir Myles shrugged carelessly. “I suppose we should be off, then. Isabeau will stay up waiting for me, and we’re likely to get there after dark anyways. Luckily my castle isn’t too far away.”

“I look forward to seeing you again,” Sir Robert said. He pushed the little Squire forward. The boy hesitated a moment, and Sir Robert raised a hand. The boy flinched and scurried to Johara, eyeing the horse nervously.

“Fare thee well!” Sir Robert called.

Sir Myles waved and nudged Johara’s side. “Come on, girl. Let’s get home.” Johara nickered and started into a trot, the little Squire following a few feet behind her.

Sir Myles waited about ten minutes, until they turned a sharp curve that blocked them from sight of Castle Drakehold, and pulled Johara to a halt, dismounting. Cautiously, he approached the boy, holding out a hand. “Come on, lad. I’ll not make you walk the whole way back to my castle.”

The boy glanced nervously at Johara. “Afraid of horses? Johara’s gentle as a kitten. She won’t throw you. And you’ll sit right in front of me- no danger of falling.”

The little Squire bit his lip, but he obediently followed Sir Myles to the horse. He let out a tiny squeak of fear as Sir Myles lifted him onto Johara’s back. He’s trembling, poor thing. And he weighs about as much as a small bird! I’m glad I got him away from Sir Robert, even if Isabeau doesn’t approve.

Sir Myles waited until the boy settled in, clutching at strands of Johara’s mane. “Comfortable?”

“Y-yes, sir.” The Squire had a small, thin voice to match his small, thin frame, and the same accent as Sir Robert.

Sir Myles leapt up behind him, gently nudging Johara into a slightly slower pace. “I suppose we ought to get to know each other,” he said. “I’m Sir Myles Peregrine. Would you tell me your name?”

Oddly, the boy flinched at that. “James, sir. James Rey.”

“Pleasure to meet you, James.”

James shrank into himself as Sir Myles addressed him by name. Hmm. Sir Myles’ brow furrowed.

“I’m not going to hurt you, James,” he said softly. “I’m not like Sir Robert. I’ve never had a Squire before- I can’t say I’ll be perfect at it. But I saw the way he treated you. That’s not how a Knight acts. I swore when I was Knighted to never act in unfairness, cruelty, or deceit. Sir Robert swore the same Oath, but he has clearly broken it.” Sir Myles sighed. “I won’t tell you not to be afraid of me. That will come with time. I simply want to assure you that you’re safe now. I am not going to hurt you, James, and neither will anyone in my castle. I swear it.”

He saw the boy’s hands clench into fists briefly, and then loosen as he squared his thin shoulders. “My…my name isn’t James,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Well, it is…but…Mum always called me Jemmy. Sir…Sir Robert said I had to be James.” He ducked his head, hiding his face behind sandy curls. “I…I don’t like being James very much.”

“Would you like me to call you Jemmy?”

The boy nodded hesitantly, his eyes fixed between Johara’s ears.

Sir Myles smiled a bit. “Then Jemmy you shall be.”

He wasn’t sure, but he thought the smallest bit of the fear seeping from Jemmy’s every pore faded just slightly.

—————————————————————

Just as Sir Myles had predicted, Castle Forêtcolline came into view just as the sun slipped behind the trees. Sir Myles sighed, urging Johara on a little faster. “My home, Castle Forêtcolline,” he said to Jemmy. “Not as large as Castle Drakehold, certainly. But it’s a beautiful place, with the river and all.”

Johara’s hooves thumped gently on the grass as Sir Myles guided her through the arched entrance to the castle. He looked around fondly, smiling as he slipped off of Johara’s back.

“Sir Myles!” Two young men hurried across the courtyard, one red-cheeked and ruddy, the other with tawny skin and hair as black as Sir Myles’ own, both dressed in livery of purple and yellow. The taller, darker one went immediately to Johara’s head, petting her and whispering to her in Spanish. The shorter one began unloading the horse, lifting the bags with ease. “How was your trip, sir?”

“Excellent, thank you, Timothy.” Sir Myles stepped out of the way. “Has either of you ever heard of a Sir Robert Drake?”

“Can’t say I have,” Timothy replied. “Lorenzo? Does Sir Robert Drake sound familiar?”

Lorenzo shook his head. “Is that who you stayed with last night, sir? The lady was worried for you.”

Of course she was, Sir Myles thought, letting a rather lovesick grin slip onto his face.

“I’ll go and tell her you’ve returned before I take Johara back to the stables,” Lorenzo said.

Timothy reached for another bag and seemed to finally notice Jemmy. “Hello,” he said, flashing a grin. “Sir Myles, you seem to have picked up a stray.”

“Timothy,” Lorenzo cut in, his voice firm. When the other boy looked at him, Lorenzo shook his head. Timothy’s expression turned confused for a moment before he nodded and let Jemmy be.

Sir Myles gave Lorenzo an approving glance and moved over to Johara. “Come on, lad. Let’s get you down from there.”

Jemmy slipped from the saddle fairly easily, but he stumbled when his feet hit the ground, and Sir Myles quickly steadied him. Jemmy flinched at his touch, so he let the boy go as soon as he was sure he wouldn’t fall.

Sir Myles gestured to Timothy, moving over to the other side of the courtyard. “You didn’t do anything wrong, lad. He’s just very skittish right now. It was a…bad situation I pulled him out of.”

“I can see that,” Timothy replied, his usual cheerful face painted with a frown. “He reminds me of the puppy ‘Renzo rescued from the trapper last year. You could tell that dog was used to being whipped. Poor thing was too scared to even try to bite and bark.”

“That’s an apt description, I’m afraid.” Sir Myles sighed. “Look, go upstairs and see if you can find Will. Have him make up a bed for the boy in my room- somewhere near the fire, I think, this night air can’t be good for him. And tell him to bring up some food, too.” He rubbed his thumb over his fist again. “I’ll take Jemmy to see Isabeau.”

“The lady’s not one to shout and scream when she don’t like something,” Timothy said, his grin returning. “But if she don’t approve of this, you’ll be in a heap of trouble.”

Sir Myles heaved another sigh. “Don’t I know it.”

He stood outside of Isabeau’s door for nearly five minutes when he went to see her, turning over in his mind just how reckless a decision he had made. He and Isabeau had separate chambers as well as a shared one, and whenever he was away she came here. He bit his lip, pressed a finger to his lips to signal Jemmy to be quiet, and opened the door as silently as he could.

Isabeau sat with her back to the door, writing. Myles gestured for Jemmy to follow him, slipped behind her, and wrapped his hands around her eyes. “I’ve brought back a surprise,” he said, his voice teasing. “Guess what it is.”

“Oh, Myles, how can I possibly-“

“It’s alive, love of my heart.”

“Alive? It had better not be another bird, I am sick and tired of them having the bad grace to die two days after we start to nurse them.”

“Not a bird.”

“A squirrel?”

“Considerably bigger than a squirrel, I’d say.”

“Myles, you didn’t buy another dog.”

“Bigger, though not by much.”

“Bigger than- if I turn around to find a horse in my chamber, you and the horse may both spend the night in the barn.”

Myles laughed. “Smaller than that, don’t you worry.”

“Oh, Myles, what is it?”

He turned her around and uncovered her eyes.

Isabeau gasped. “Oh! Oh, Myles!” She leapt up, snatching a scarf from the table and hastily tying it over her pale hair. “Heaven preserve us, Myles, what have you done?”

“I seem to have found myself with a Squire, my heart.” He brought Jemmy forward, again feeling him cringe at the contact and letting him go as soon as possible. “This is Jemmy Rey.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Isabeau breathed. She still seemed in shock.

Luckily, Will, Sir Myles’ servant, appeared in the doorway. “Everything’s arranged, sir,” he said. “Would you like me to take the lad now?”

“I think that might be for the best,” Sir Myles agreed. He needed to explain to Isabeau.

Jemmy still looked terrified. Sir Myles knelt down so he could look into the boy’s face. “I want you to go with Will, all right? He’s not going to hurt you, I promise. He’s going to give you something to eat and show you where you can sleep tonight.”

Jemmy nodded jerkily, his eyes on the ground. Sir Myles’ heart throbbed again at the fear that still ran through the boy. What did Sir Robert do to you?

Jemmy obediently followed Will out of the room, his head down. Sir Myles heaved a deep breath and turned to Isabeau.

She looked stricken. “Where did you find him, Myles? The poor lad’s afraid of his own shadow!”

“That was why I had to rescue him,” Sir Myles said. He sat down on the bed, and Isabeau joined him, folding her hands in her lap and untying her scarf, letting her hair spill over her shoulders.

“All right, Myles. I’ve never known you to make a foolish decision, so why don’t you explain yourself?

Sir Myles shifted. “I stayed at the castle of a Knight called Sir Robert Drake last night,” he told her. “We actually got along quite well. He’s a charming man, and very handsome.”

“Should I be worried about this fellow taking my place?” Isabeau teased.

“I could never break my vows to you, not for any handsome knight or beautiful damsel,” he told her. “He was handsome, though.”

“Where does Jemmy come into all of this?”

“Jemmy was Sir Robert’s Squire, and Sir Robert treated him so cruelly that I could hardly believe my eyes. Right in front of me, too, as if it was hardly a thing to be ashamed of! Almost as if he expected me to be impressed by how harsh he was with Jemmy.”

“I saw the bruise on his face,” Isabeau said softly.

“He received that when Sir Robert backhanded him so hard it sent him into the wall.” Sir Myles ran his thumb over his fist again, and Isabeau gently laid her hand atop his. ���He said such terrible things about Jemmy, called him a simpleton, a blockhead, said he was lazy and disobedient. All through supper he kept up a barrage of insults, and blows, too. Jemmy looked as if he was about to cry, the poor lad.”

“So how did you get him, Myles? Knights don’t simply give their Squires to other Knights.”

“Sir Robert did,” Sir Myles answered. “In a sense, anyway. I…I played dice with him after supper.”

“Myles.”

“I know, I know. It was just to try and save the boy, I swear! I could hardly believe Sir Myles was even willing to wager his Squire. Although I confess I did wait until he was drunk.”

“So what did you bet?”

Sir Myles coughed. “Er…Johara.”

“Myles!”

“What else was I supposed to do, Beau? I couldn’t leave Jemmy there!”

“You bet one of your best horses on a game of dice to try to save one abused boy?”

“Yes.”

Isabeau sighed. “Myles…in some ways, I am proud of you for that, and in others, I am not. Even from meeting him briefly I can see that Jemmy has been through too much suffering. But you told me a few months ago you weren’t ready to take on a Squire.”

“I still don’t know if I am,” Sir Myles admitted. “But Jemmy needed my help. I swore to protect the weak and defenseless, and if taking him as my Squire was the only way to protect Jemmy, then I feel I must.”

“I’m still unsure about the whole matter.” Isabeau ran her hands through her hair. “But I support you in your decision. Just don’t make a habit of bringing home strays. Animals, I don’t mind. But people?” She laid her head on his shoulder. “Though I suppose it might be good to have a younger face about the castle.” Her voice had turned wistful, a shade of sorrow in it.

“Isabeau, I did not marry you to bear me sons and daughters. I married you, not what you can give me. You are enough for me, love of my heart.”

She kissed him at that. “And you are enough for me, my reckless, gambling, overly compassionate husband. Now, why don’t you go and see to the boy? He must still be frightened.”

“You don’t want me to stay with you?”

Isabeau shook her head. “One more night without your company will be endurable, I think. You’ve brought Jemmy back. You should care for him, at least this first night. I think he needs you more than I do- and more than he knows, the poor lad.” She flashed him a smile. “Besides, I have rather enjoyed these past few nights of quiet, without your snoring to keep me up.”

“Isabeau, I don’t snore!”

Laughing, Isabeau sprang off of the bed and shooed Sir Myles out of the room.

———————————————————————

Read the previous part here!

[minervacasterly]

HENRY V is one of my favorite English medieval monarchs and he has been played by handsome actors like Tom Hiddleston, Kenneth Branagh, Laurence Olivier and now TImothee Chalamet, but was he really as compassionate, scholarly, and fair as he’s depicted in those films?

One of the things I always say is that if you are going to go all mushy or admire one historical character from this period, then you must also take the bad with the good. You can't have it one way. You can't idolize 'x' character and look past his flaws, pretending that they were never there. It doesn't work that way.

Henry V is one of those complex figures that will always generate controversy. And the version we have of him comes from Shakespeare. These actors played him according to how the bard wrote him. At the time, England was in danger of political isolation, and it was a situation where it was 'us against the world' the world being the Catholic nations. Therefore, they needed a national hero to extol patriotism and who better than Henry V? He was not just THE hero who stood against a larger army and beat the odds, he was the King who took France! That's no small feat. No other King had ever done that. The way in which he did however, is not so heroic so Shakespeare tweaked some parts, took out some important female roles (like Isabeau of Bavaria who was part of the negotiations to surrender) and replaced them with a sound French king and a vengeful Dauphin, and of course to make the story even better, a romance between the fair princess Catherine of Valois and Henry V. Their marriage ended the war and their heir would unite the two kingdoms together.

Things didn't happen that way, the war continued even after Henry V died. His son and heir was barely two years old when he was crowned King of England, and still a child when he became King of France. His two surviving uncles fought like dogs with their uncle Cardinal Beaufort (as Bedford's -Henry V's oldest uncle- ally) to control the little boy, and keep his French possessions intact. Things did not go as planned, Bedford died, his successors were not very good and then Henry VI moved against his remaining uncle by imprisoning his wife.

While Shakespeare's sequels Henry VI (parts 1, 2, & 3)  and Richard III blame Henry's kid for losing everything, we can't make that assumption ourselves since -as great as his plays are- they are not real. They are historical fiction and they reflect the need of Shakespeare's time to believe in national heroes, when England was at war with all these countries, and to believe they could be great again. And also, supposing that Henry V would have lived, it is hard to say that history would not be repeated. Remember: Everyone remembers a rock star when they die young, but we rarely remember those who get old and can't hold on to what they won. Henry conquered France, he married the mad King's daughter, got a son; but it is likely that he would not have been able to keep it. Perhaps, under his leadership England would have retained some French territory, but even this is hard to say. Conquering is one thing, ruling is another.

To end this, I recommend Henry V by John Matusiak, Henry V by Ian Mortimer (though he is rather harsh on him, but he makes good points), Wars of the Roses: The Fall of the Plantagenets and the Rise of the Tudors by Dan Jones, and Foundation: A History of England from its Early Beginning to the Tudors by Dan Ackroyd. They give you the real Henry V, with all his flaws (including the brutal way in which he dealt with his enemies and towns and villages that opposed him), religious views (like so many, he also burned heretics. One of them was his friend who is believed was the inspiration behind the fictional buffoon character of 'Falstaff' in the Shakesperian plays of Henry IV part 1 and part 2) and attributes (being a great military leader, a scholar, and treating his soldiers well). Lastly, I also recommend this article by History Extra: https://www.historyextra.com/period/medieval/things-you-didnt-know-facts-henry-v-battle-agincourt-shakespeare-hundred-years-war-france/

[blukoffee]

Out of Place, Out of Time (AU Oneshot)

Okay, so. I rarely (read: never) post original stuff on here, so this is a learning curve for me, pleasebenice, but I swore/promised/crossed my heart that I would contribute to @intricatecaprice 30 Days Dead Men’s Tales. And here we are! This’ll probably be messy and not nearly as pretty as the rest of those gorgeous posts, but hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?

So, I of course had the idea of Isabeau being plonked into the lap of one Cursed Capitán. I mean, who wouldn’t? But as it is currently being wonderfully done by so many talented authors, I decided to stick with my human Salazar. But this is just a small scratch of satisfaction to that itch. I hope you enjoy!  (Also, just wanna note that this isn’t the Monarch and these are different prisoners than those in the beginning of the film. I tried to make that distinct, but just want to clarify. Also, this is purely self-indulging, so please excuse any errors.)

Prisoners Should Know Their Place

It was the screams that told Isabeau her luck was about to change for the worst. And that was a feat, since she was pretty sure her luck had already hit rock bottom.

The guy in the cell next to her, barely a few years older than her, if even that, began to whimper in terror, his fingers tugging at dirty red hair. The wrinkled old man with him started muttering prayers under his breath, the gaps of missing teeth flashing every now and then.

Pretty sure that's not gonna help anyone, dude. Isabeau sighed, then grimaced when her ribs protested the movement. The nasty bruise from the officer's boot would take a while to heal, especially since he hadn't bothered holding back when he'd literally kicked her into the cell.

Asshole. I hope he was one of the ones that screamed like a little girl.

Despite the tone of her thoughts, Isabeau was worried. Whoever had boarded the Victorious were going through the crew with lightning speed, and nothing outside gave away any hints of who the attackers were. For all she knew, they'd be worse than the British she found herself prisoner of.

Great. This day really can get worse. I honestly didn't think it could.

There was a couple of loud crashes up above, and a distinct sound of crackling that sent tendrils of alarm snaking down her limbs. 

Fire. I smell fire. 

Cinders began to float down through the cracks in the boards and she struggled to keep the primal part of her brain from sending her into a panic. 

The younger guy apparently had less control and suddenly threw himself at the bars with a loud crash, screaming at the top of his lungs. The old man tried to calm him, to keep him quiet, but he was thrown off.

Mere seconds later, slow footsteps began to thump heavily down the stairs to the brig. 

The screaming man instantly quieted, staring up at the deck above in horror.

Isabeau looked up from where she sat curled in the corner, surprised by the prickle of unease that skittered with spider legs across her nape.

Whatever was coming their way wasn't anything good.

All three of them froze as boots suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs, slowly descending to show a large man leaning heavily on a cane as he made his way down the steps.

It wasn't his sheer, intimidating size that made Isabeau's breath freeze in her lungs. 

It was the way his hair wafted around his head in a halo of black strands, like he was underwater. 

It was how flakes of ash floated in his wake whenever he moved.

It was his burnt and decrepit uniform, shifting and following his movements in a way that wasn't natural.

It was the grey skin, covered in ashen cracks and the splintered skull with sharp, jagged edges of bone.

It was the burning amber eyes, almost glowing with their brilliance in the dark.

They all stood staring at each other for a brief second, then the man was joined by more men, men that had similar appearances of unnaturalness.

Isabeau was grateful she was already sitting down, else she would have collapsed on the floor.

They had walked through the walls. They had simply walked the walls, as if it'd been empty space.

What...the fuck…

The old man next to her began to moan his prayers, a note of bleakness in his tone that said he knew he was about to die. 

Isabeau wasn’t feeling much more optimistic, but she had bigger things to worry about. Such as why the apparent leader of the ghostly horde was now staring directly at her, and he hadn’t blinked since he’d spotted her.

In her short experience in an 18th century world, she’d come to the quick realization that women were simple commodities to be acquired, to be seen and not heard. To actually have intelligence as a woman was considered unnatural, a short step from being pronounced a witch or insane.

So the fact that any man, not merely a ghostly one, was staring at her with such unnerving focus was not a good thing.

She bit her lip, blood seeping on her tongue in an effort not to snap at the man to ask what he was looking at.

The older man’s moaning grew louder, the other man trying to figure out if he was going to fight while there was a distinct stain on the front of his pants, his blue eyes wide with terror.

Apparently, the imposing figure staring at her had had enough. A slight jerk of his head towards the other two prisoners and one of the ghostly apparitions behind him stepped forward, through the cell bars, and thrust a corroded sword straight through the moaning inmate.

Silence instantly echoed through the brig following the thud of his body.

And still the man continued to stare at her, making her skin itch under his perusal, making her want to curl into herself to hide from his burning gaze.

Finally, he stepped forwards, and no, she hadn’t been imagining things.

His entire body passed through the iron bars, sliding through them only a faint resistance and leaving them sizzling and smoking in his wake.

Definitely not human, definitely not human!

Isabeau pressed backwards into the corner, curling tighter as the man or whatever he was continued to move towards her with slow, steady steps. She kept her eyes lowered, so as not to seem as a challenge, and was surprised to find him crouching in front of her.

She squeezed further into the corner, bracing herself for another boot, or possibly a hand, when she heard a deep voice rumble, “Look at me.”

It should have sounded like rocks grinding together, as deep as his baritone was, but instead it sounded like liquid honey, like the purr of a lover, his accent making it roll through the air like music. She could hear a gravelly rasp to it that only added a smoky flavor, making her skin shiver and tingle in the wake of the sound.

Carefully, she slid her eyes up, taking in the once elegant uniform that still flattered his powerful body with its faded stripes, the tattered cravat that floated and swayed in a nonexistent breeze, until her gaze landed on a face that would haunt her dreams.

She sucked in a quick breath, surprised by how utterly handsome the ghostly man was, even in death. Her eyes skimmed over strong, mature features of a male in his prime, who would have been beyond devastating had he been alive.

Nor had he missed her interest, something flaring visibly in those burning amber eyes that made her swallow convulsively.

The man straightened, towering over her, and turned to gesture at another of the men that accompanied him, one with an eyepatch over one side of his face.

Unfortunately, the other inmate still alive had apparently found his courage, if not his brains.

He slammed his hands into the bars, one of his fingers crooked as if he’d broken it, and sneered at the man standing in front of her, “What use do you have of some whore, Spanish dog? You can’t-”

He never got to finish before the man whirled and his hand flashed out, instantly wrapping around the inmate’s throat. He was lifted off his feet in a frightening display of strength, while the man in the striped coat hissed, “She’s mine, and you would do well to remember that.”

Isabeau honestly thought he was going to kill him, but instead he only held him for a few seconds more, just long enough to make sure his point got across, then dropped him, leaving the man in a crumpled heap on the filthy floor.

Wait. What does he mean, “she’s mine”? 

“Moss, bring him.” The man before her whirled around with blazing speed, reaching down to grab her arm and hauled her to her feet.

Isabeau gasped at the feel of his icy fingers on her arm, as unbreakable as any manacle, before she was dragged after him.

One of his men broke the cell lock and he continued to yank her along, making her ribs scream in protest.

“...wait,” she gasped as he headed towards the stairs. “Wait!”

She threw herself backwards, no mean feat when her weight was being continuously dragged forwards, and the man holding her whipped around to glare at her, his eyes a burning crimson.

“I will not wait, chica. You are my prisoner now, and I do not wait for prisoners!”

Prisoner. That hated word burned in her gut. She’d heard it more over the past few days than she ever cared to again, along with a good many more slurs against her simply for her gender.

Fury made her hiss up at his face, “I’m not your fucking prisoner, now let - go of me!”

With a burst of frantic strength, she managed to wrench free of his grip, which had slackened a hair in his surprise at her outburst.

She turned and bared her teeth in a snarl at the one-eyed ghost that stepped in front of her. His eye flickered over her shoulder and he moved out of her way, staring at her with such hostility that her anger faltered.

Two others paused in the act of dragging the unconscious man out of his cell, his dirty red hair hanging lank about his face.

Isabeau shuddered, glad she hadn’t been put in the cell with him, and limped towards the room where her bags had been carelessly tossed. Sighing at the sight of her clothes thrown haphazardly on the bench, she closed her eyes wearily, just wishing this day had never begun.

She heard wheezing breaths behind her and knew that the man had followed her. The one who had claimed her as his prisoner. The one who stared at her with uncomfortable intensity.

Squeezing her eyes harder before opening them, she stepped forwards and began picking up her things, the smell of smoke gradually growing stronger.

“You are not English. What are you doing in an English cell?” the man asked suspiciously, stepping around to peer curiously at her belongings before swinging his gaze back to her.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you,” she muttered, then finally couldn’t take it anymore and pulled her shirt over her head, not caring if she was being watched or not.

She heard a wheezed curse and felt her face burn in embarrassment, then quickly  grabbed another of her shirts and slipped it on.

Grabbing the rest of her things and tossing the strap on her big bag over her shoulder, she turned to see the man had given her his back out of some form of courtesy.

Claiming her as his prisoner or not, she appreciated the gesture.

“I don’t even know your name.”

He turned to face her, his stance proud even with his slightly hunched back. “Capitán Armando Antón Salazar de Estrada. And yours, chica?”

A spark drifted down from the ceiling and she sidestepped it warily, suddenly realizing just where they were. And what was happening to the Victorious. “Isabeau Revanne. Okay, fine, I’m your prisoner, take me to your brig.”

She’d been trying to expedite matters to get off the burning hulk, but apparently the only thing she’d managed to expedite was Capitán Salazar’s temper.

He stepped forwards, towering over her even without a straightened spine, and glared down at her. “Sí, you are my prisoner, and prisoners should know their place.”

Isabeau swallowed as she struggled not to stare at his face. “My place is in your brig, isn’t it?”

Salazar stared at her for a good long minute, making her grow more and more nervous as heat began to filter down to the room, before he suddenly smiled.

It was a smile that made her extremely uneasy.

“Perhaps I have another purpose for you. Your companion in the brig had a good idea, no?”

Her companion? Wait, the one who had called her a-

“I’m not a whore!” Isabeau spat indignantly, gritting her teeth in outrage at the suggestion. She’d been called worse since she’d been tossed into that cell, but honestly, she’d somehow been under the impression that Capitán Salazar was different.

His burning gaze flickered over her, taking in her clothes that must seem incredibly strange to him. “That remains to be seen.”

Both their attentions jerked upwards at a loud crash, but Salazar was quicker to recover.

Isabeau yelped as she was suddenly lifted into the air, wheezing as a broad shoulder was wedged into her stomach.

Salazar turned and snapped an order, one of his men slinking forwards to pick up her belongings.

Clinging to the back of his coat, Isabeau struggled to breathe as she was carried along. 

Salazar paused at the top of the stairs before moving over to the railing.

What is he-

Her thought vanished as he leapt over the railing, the sudden shock of it sucking the scream right out of her throat as she saw pitch-black water rushing towards her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, only to feel herself suddenly jolt to a stop.

Confused, she cracked open one eye, then both went wide in shock as she still saw water beneath her, yet it wasn’t getting any closer.

Salazar was walking on water. He was walking on water.

An explosion of fire and noise drew her attention away from this new knowledge and she hissed in pain when one chunk of burning debris grazed her arm.

Salazar instantly jerked to the side, swinging her out of the way of another piece of debris before breaking into a run.

Another explosion and she looked up to see a cannon sailing straight towards them. “Look out!”

The massive metal construct whistled by them as Salazar swerved at her warning, his pace increasing to a lithe run as he put distance between them and the exploding wreck of the Victorious.

Finally, he began to slow down to a rolling jog, then coiled his big body into a crouch before springing upwards.

They landed lightly on the deck of a rotting hulk of a ship, a vessel twice the size of the one she’d been on, if not bigger, but all she caught was a quick glimpse, catching sight of the red-haired man sprawled on the deck where he’d been dropped before Salazar turned and carried her down a corridor, 

Indignation began to fuel a burning strength. She’d spent the last several days locked in a cell, she’d woken up in this hell hole of a time period with no warning, she had no idea how to get back, and for the icing on the fucking cake, she had been kidnapped by a stupidly handsome ghost whose intentions she didn’t have the slightest clue about.

And she was tired of feeling his shoulder digging into her stomach!

“Put. Me. Down!” Isabeau thrashed and threw herself back against his restraining arm, ignoring the screaming in her ribs at the sudden movement.

Salazar grunted at her unexpected struggling, then shoved his way through a door, slamming it closed behind him.

Isabeau found herself flung into the air with a squeal and she flailed wildly before landing on something plush and slightly lumpy. She laid there for a second, sucking air into her lungs as her bruised stomach ached, then carefully sat upright, staring at the ghostly captain warily.

But to her confusion, he wasn’t looking at her face. Instead, his gaze was somewhere lower, and she glanced down in alarm, only to see that her shirt had ridden up when she’d been tossed onto the settee. And the bootprint bruised into her ribs was clearly visible.

“Which one?”

Isabeau’s attention flashed back to Salazar, his deep voice ominously quiet, rage turning his irises a bloody crimson. Black blood ran down his chin as he bared his teeth in a snarl. “Which one?!”

Slowly, she inched her shirt down to cover the bruises. “One of the officers. I’m pretty sure he’s dead now.”

Sanguine eyes flicked to her face. “Did he touch you - anywhere else?”

She quickly shook her head, even as she wondered why the mere thought of it enraged him. Surely such a thing was commonplace in this time period.

Salazar made a noise in his throat, almost a growl, his face still stern and unyielding in his anger. His fist tightened around the hilt of his rapier, which she just now noticed was still gripped in his hand. 

Isabeau edged backwards along the settee warily, then yelped in alarm when he lifted it up and plunged the tip into the floor with a loud thud, the blade quivering from the force of the blow.

They were both frozen for a second, then Salazar straightened and sent her a harsh glare. “Do not move.”

And with the ominous implications of what would happen if she didn’t obey his orders hanging in the air, he whirled and walked through the door without opening it, leaving wisps of ash trailing behind him.

Isabeau didn’t feel like moving from her spot on the settee. She had seen how deep the blade had plunged into the floorboards and felt it was wise not to incite the captain’s temper. Though that didn’t stop her curiosity from lifting its head and creating questions about the man.

She didn’t realize that she’d dozed off until she felt weight depress the cushions next to her.

Something cool was spreading soothing bliss over the aching bruise on her side, making the pain fade to a background hum.

She cracked open bleary eyes to see a man sitting next to her, huge and imposing, yet his touch was gentle as he feathered calloused fingers over her skin.

“Thank you.”

Salazar paused at her words, then resumed rubbing whatever it was into her bruise. “You are welcome.”

Isabeau was quiet for a second, watching him groggily before blurting, “Why are you helping me?”

This time he didn’t pause, merely pulled away for a second to wipe his fingers off on a rag. “You are my prisoner, therefore my responsibility.”

She couldn’t help but be fascinated by his smooth, efficient movements, the complete unnaturalness to him. He shouldn’t exist, but here he was. Still, questions continued to bounce around in her mind.

“Why did you bring that other man too?”

He chuckled ominously as he suddenly leaned over her, those eerie eyes fixed on her face. “Because I always leave one man alive to tell of me. And since I’m not letting you go, I needed someone else.”

She swallowed nervously as she felt his fingers stroke her hair back behind her ear, felt his weight depress the cushions around her. “What do you mean, you’re not letting me go?”

His hand slid under the back of her skull, huge and powerful against the bone, and he held her still as he leaned closer. His hair flowed downwards to tickle her cheeks when he stopped, his nose almost touching hers. A black grin spread across his lips. “You’re mine, now. And I don’t let go of what is mine.”

[prolestari]

Fan Fiction Faves!

Happy Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day! To celebrate I want to give a shout out to my favorite fics and writers!

First, @baconwaffle2016 has been absolutely amazing this year. Every time I think I have her plots figured out I’m thrown again. She has this incredible way of balancing the sexy with the drama, and her interpretations are some of the most unique I’ve ever seen. You can pick literally any of her works and it’s awesome, but if I have to pick favorites I’d go with this spark of black, imagine how the world can be (so very fine), or No Power in the ‘Verse.

@galfridus1 is absolutely meticulous in a way you don’t find anymore. Her plots are well thought-out and really take you on a journey beginning to end. She’s also an amazing collaborator. I especially loved her fic The Call of Duty (and hope it continues one day) as well as Forbidden Love.

@thisisaverycreativeurl pretty much burst through the door a few months ago and dropped bombs of angst on us all that I have loved. If you’re looking for a fic that just delves into character and emotion, check out pick up all my broken pieces or sunfire and blood.

@blacksteel-art is so damn passionate that she gets me invested and excited and then I see her work and I’m always amazed. Please go read her webcomic Cities in Sound, it’s the coolest thing I’ve seen in ages.

@derieri absolutely terrifies me because her work is so good and I make a fool of myself every time she publishes. Her fic Her is one of my favorites of the year, and I am living for the moment Seven Devils will be published.

I read The Ritual before I met @smolmeliroll and when I started it I immediately thought, I have to meet this writer. Since then I’ve watched this writer create some of the most memorable scenes since I joined this fandom, and her ability to take a sliver of an idea and just create astounds me every time.

@itsyaboimilk is the fan we all need in our lives. I’ve been given life with Hiraeth and his absolute fearlessness in writing and creating. Matt has the ability to just get the characters and has been the hidden jewel in the fandom.

@maryjanewinchester is just getting started but I’ve already been loving her work. She’s the ultimate fan-as-writer and has characterization down to a science. Check out Level 10 Friend for an awesome study in character and canon development.

Getting to know @lemaskadra not only personally but also her work has been an amazingly wild ride. The queen of writing Meliodas smut, if you’re feeling adventurous try Dancing in the Dark, or if you’re in the mood for something more romantic then Isabeau is a must.

I also want to highlight some of the fics I’m reading and loving right now:

How Not to Re-Raise Demonic Children: This fic actually finished not long ago. It’s got it all: domestic Melizabeth, all the Sins interacting, angst, heart, and plenty of laughs. I loved this fic and you will too.

Tales From Camelot: Probably my favorite fic of the year. It’s an ongoing story about Zeldris, Gelda, and Arthur in Camelot after the second Holy War. It’s hot and steamy while also being so romantic and heart breaking. I know this is an unusual ship but I bet anything if you give this fic just a few chapters you’ll be as hooked as I am.

Heroes of the Dark: A BNHA fic about Ochako and Bakugou grieving Midoriya’s death, only for him to turn up again—but not exactly as he seems. This story has me on the edge of my seat every update and has taken my love of class 1-A (and it has them all in it) from level 10 to level 1000.

Open Marriage: I don’t know what to say other than I love this fic. It’s a Fairy Tail modern AU that starts as a love triangle between Natsu, Lucy, and Gray. It’s an ultimate guilty pleasure and I can’t get enough.

Sorry that this became a bit long but there is SO MUCH talent out there!!! Please check out the writers and fics above, and make sure to send a message to your favorite writer today, even if it’s just an anonymous thank you! Writers keep the fandom going in a really special way and they only continue doing so with support. Thank you to all of you amazing people who feed my love of fan fiction every day with your hard work and beautiful hearts.

[asteroiideae]

2, 4, 6, 8 (DnD ask memes are great!)

HI HELLO I swear I wasn’t ignoring your ask I just needed to get to my PC and also give a little bit of thought to my answers!2. Your favorite character that someone else has played: I have dragged my best friend (@mindless-philosopher) into pretty much every D&D venture I’ve taken! I think my favorite creation of theirs is a halfling called Fhanys; a non-binary noble who fled their home (and strict gender/societal roles) to bard around in a big city and eventually meet my own bard, Fhaerris. Fhan is unpredictable af, wild, charming, and juuuust enough off-putting that you’d probably guess they multi-class as a Warlock with a creepy hag patron. I love the bright color palette, the charming earthiness Fhan brings to the table, and the inability to ever be able to predict what’s gonna happen next!4. Your current campaign. I should have seen this one coming! So I currently DM two campaigns (D&D), and I play in two campaigns (D&D), and I’m getting ready to join a third as a player (Scion) so like. Buckle up kiddos!Adronica: This is the first campaign I DM’d, and it’s entirely homebrewed because I’m an over-achiever in the worst ways. It’s heavily inspired by the podcast Lore and old-world fairy tales, tbh. My players are currently in some dark shit, but their characters are really beginning to shine and I love (and them!) so much.Tal’dorei: This is a campaign that I do not run, but where I get to play my Rogue/Monk Csilla, who is a survivor of the Chroma Conclave’s attack on Emon (though her parents were not so lucky.) She’s a high-ranking member of The Clasp, and has currently solved a murder instigated by a would-be rival of The Clasp. She’s hanging out with her husband, Casxik, and her best friends Ronan and Aliatra, until she can figure out what she wants out of life now that she’s in her thirties and faced with the short lifespan of her profession.

Starcalled: So, the second campaign that I’m running is based on Starcalled Studios’ Zodiac Empires campaign setting. (If you haven’t checked it out PLEASE DO it’s gorgeous.) I can’t say much about it right now because we’re only one session in and my players can know NOTHING but, there’s a murder rn and the PCs are implicated in it, and shenanigans are about to ensue and it’s GREAT.Saturday Game: idk what name my friend has given her homebrewed setting, but my every-Saturday game is where I get to play Isabeau. -SIIIGH- I love Isabeau Senft so fucking much you guys - Neutral Evil Warlock Who Plans to Marry Her Patron and Rule All The Hells Together. She’s got ambitions, fam. Which is pretty wild considering she’s a noble of such high rank she sits on the council that governs the entire continent? It’s not enough. Nothing is ever enough. She’ll probably consume herself in her quest for more but IT’S FIIIIINE.Scion: We haven’t even started yet, but I just made the sweetest little sunflower bby who is the Scion of Apollo, and her beloved twin brother is ALSO a scion and it’s gonna be shenanigans and brb I need to get more dice for her…6. Favorite death (monster, player character, NPC, etc).I have somehow managed to avoid much in the way of PC death – except for the first campaign I ever played, which was set in Skyrim, where while we were killing time in town the DM did a few one-on-one sessions with us. The following week, one of the players was absent but we went along doing our thing. It was only at the very end, while my character was eavesdropping on chatter in the tavern, that he realized our missing player’s character was….dead. We all rushed to the temple to find his body being prepared for burial and. Honestly fam it was brutal? Like our party freefell through the stages of grief and we weren’t even there to see it or try to prevent it or anything. It worked out in such a fascinating way, it was really cool actually.8. Your favorite fight/encounter.That one time instead of fighting a powerful Wizard my players trolled her until in defeat she gave them her business card and begged them not to work for their present employer anymore because her OWN boss would make her come deal with them and she doesn’t want to ever see them again. (Fun Fact: business cards did not previously exist in this world; they literally trolled her so hard she invited business cards to make them leave her alone so she could escape the ambush SHE set.)HEY LISTEN GUYS I like doing these, so if you want to ask me more – click here for the post!

[beneathsilverstars]

Siffrin is like. 26 at the YOUNGEST to me. Most of them are in their mid to late 20s (early 30s maybe) besides odile who *I* think is mid to late 40s

I did hear the word of god descriptions before considering their ages, so my hcs are compliant with them, but the word of god does all seem right to me. Except ironically the one canon age range (preteen Bonnie) is the only one that seems off; if they weren’t called a preteen I’d assume them to be like 8. (As opposed to, I define preteen as 11 or 12, mayybe 10. aka the ages that would also be called “teen” if not for linguistics.)

But yeah Siffrin is soo 28 to me, definitely within 26-31. Old enough that they’re quite settled into their sense of self and the patterns of their adult life, but not so old as to be totally set in it (or desperately trying to change it). They’re sort of still just muddling along, but they’re very good at it by now! At the very least, they’re used to it, used to pretending it’s fine, but not yet quite so sick of it that they can’t pretend anymore. Not quite.

Mirabelle and Isabeau do have more youthful insecurity imo. I put Mirabelle at 22 because to me that’s the age where it feels like everybody you grew up with is graduating right now and getting job offers in their chosen field, but not you, because you’re a failure. Any younger and you’re all still in college together (or if not, then working 30-40 hours a week is almost more grown up of you than being in school). Any older and everyone’s doing different things anyway. But at exactly 22, being even just one semester behind feels like a huge difference, like nothing you’ve done matters in the face of the one thing you haven’t. (ofc, Vaugarde doesn’t have the same schooling system as irl modern USA, but it’s about the vibes okay.)

And then Isabeau’s 24 because that’s when everyone is doing different things anyway. You’ve realized that the social structure of school, the cliques, the competition, isn’t really how it works as an adult. You are out there in the world on your own and it’s time to figure out what makes you happy instead of your friends or teachers. And, a couple years into working, you might be realizing that the career path you were so sure of really doesn’t suit you at all! And it’s scary to change, and waste all that hard work you’ve done. But, at 24, it hasn’t been that long since you graduated high school, and less since you graduated college (or if not college, you still may have tried a couple different towns or a couple different groups of roommates). You’ve upended your entire life at least once if not several times in recent memory, so even though it’s scary, doing it once more doesn’t feel as impossible as it would for someone who’s been doing the same thing for the last twenty years straight.

Speaking of which, Odile! Admittedly half the reason I made her 43 was self-indulgent ship reasons. But! I also think it makes sense. She’s been out of school just as long as she’s been in it. She had been doing approximately the same thing for the last 15+ years, so leaving is a huge upheaval. But she’s young enough to still have the energy for travel — she sure feels old next to Mirabelle, and she is slower and achier, but she’s also still perfectly able to fight, hike, and camp. (ofc, many older people can still do these things, but I feel like once you get past 50 it starts being mostly just the people who have been consistently doing these things all along.) Also, 40 is just The mid-life crisis age, y’know? So at 40 she starts wanting a change, and then time goes so fast once you’re settled into adult life plus going to the other side of the world is a huge undertaking, so it takes a couple years. But by 43 she’s done it, she’s made the change!

Then I made Bonnie 12 because according to purely my own intuition, I think 4 is maybe the oldest age Bonnie could’ve been when running away that wouldn’t leave them with some solid memory of their parents, and even then it would probably take close to 8 years to have forgotten them to such an extent and grown to be relatively well-adjusted. And I went for the max running away age because oh my god Nille. And I put Nille at the top of her word of god age range - 21 - because oh my god Nille. Babies taking care of babies. At least this way she was a full teen and they were a preschooler!!

[isabeau25]

Get To Know Your Author

Tagged by @eastofthemoon!

1. How did you come up with your username and what does it mean?

There’s a book called Dove Isabeau that I loved as a kid, and also I loved the movie Ladyhawk, and Isabeau was one of the main characters.

2. Which fanfic of yours has the most feedback? (bookmarks/subscriptions/hits/kudos).

Room with a View (although Can’t Take the Sky From Me was a very close second  - I had to do actual math to figure it out; I’m impressed I remember how to math.)

3. What is your AO3 profile icon, and why did you choose it?

I don’t have one. I never bothered to upload it. If I did, it would be the same as the one for this account. It’s my cat Nibbs laying on my foot not long after we found him in my parents’ backyard. I use it because he’s cute and fluffy, and because I don’t like pictures of me floating around the internet.

4. Do you have any regular/favourite commenters?

I love all my commenters! It’s always exciting to get the notice that someone took the time to comment and I go back and reread them all all the time.

@maychorian​ has commented on a bunch of my Voltron fics (almost all of them I think), and I’m always super excited when I see her comments because she leaves such excellent and well thought out ones.

5. Is there a fanfic that you keep going back to read again and again?

Hound by story_monger I come back to because it’s so well done. The writing is fantastic, and the sense of suspense is amazing, and I really love the way it dealt with different layers of trauma and wove together the way past trauma continued to impact how present trauma was processed and dealt with. Plus the team was wonderfully tender with Keith, and he got cuddles.

Hyggelig by heyheroics I’ve gone back and reread a couple times. It is an example of the ever rare, non-romantic Keith and Lance center story. Well written and even though it’s not finished, the chapters read as short stories, so I’m not left with cliff hangers. I’m always excited when it updates.

I reread pieces from @maychorian​ all the time, particularly from the Boom Crash series and the Dream Seam series (*whispers* a lot of the time I skip straight to the cuddles. She writes the best cuddles.)

The Raised by Lions series by @eastofthemoon​ I like to go back and reread. Red and her strange furless cub are super fun to read about, and then Shiro comes along and there is even more fluff and cuddles.

Basically there’s a shortage of platonic fluff and cuddles in the Voltron fandom and when I run out, I go back and re-read my favorite cuddles.

6. How many stories are you subscribed to? How many do you have bookmarked?

I have like 12 bookmarked and 4 subscriptions. I always forget that’s a thing you can do on AO3.

7. Which AU do you find yourself writing the most?

.... so many. I’ve been working on The Five Lion Cafe au lately, trying to finish up the next one (almost done *fingers crossed*), and Mermaid Rescue and Rehab Inc. is up next on my list to finish, so I’ve been picking on that. 

I’d like to get back to Babe’s in Space at some point. I have general outlines for lots of short stories in that AU, and there actually is a bigger over arching plot if I ever get to it.

8. How many people are subscribed and bookmarked to you in total? (you can view this on the stats page)

91 subscriptions and 992 bookmarks

9. Is there something you’d like to write about but are afraid of people judging you for it? (Feeling brave? If so, share it!)

Mostly platonic physical intimacy, just because I don’t want to deal with it being labeled as romantic or shippy (I guess that’s not so much a fear of being judged as just not feeling like dealing with other people’s reactions). Once something is posted, you have no control over how it’s received or interpreted. That’s just the nature of publishing something; you have to let it go (or drive yourself crazy trying to force people to see it only the way you want, which is just not worth the time or energy).

Because of that, I sometimes pull back from writing a scene as intimate as I’d like, or I choose a slightly different approach to it, just because I don’t want to deal with seeing it labeled as a ship in the tags and comments.

10. Is there anything you would like to be better at? Writing certain scenes or genres, replying to comments, updating better, etc.

Action sequences and creating suspense. It’s hard to translate the movie-like images in my head into words for action sequences. I watch a lot of youtube videos for reference when I’m trying to write them.

And suspense, when done well, is just a great thing to be able to do. It keeps the reader engaged and makes the piece more exciting.

Also replying to comments! They mean so much to me, and I’m so terrible at replying.

11. Do you write rarepairs or popular ships more often?

Not really? I guess Ronin and Tara from Epic qualify as a rarepair just because the fandom for Epic is so small. I think the idea of Ezor and Kolivan from Voltron being a crack pair (not one that ever would or should show up in canon) is hysterical, but I haven’t written anything for them yet.

I really just don’t ship much in general.

12. How many stories have you posted on AO3 to this day (finished and unfinished)?

As of December 22, 2018, I have 49 stories up on AO3, all of them finished. I never start posting a story unless it’s already done.

13. How many stories do you have saved in/with your writing program?

So, that’s really hard to calculate. For every fandom I have what amounts to a dump document where I write random scenes and stories that I’m not sure will go any where, in addition to that I have:

Epic - 14 docs, most of those are probably single stories

ROTG - 9 docs, but I don’t think I separated out many of the WIPs from my main dump doc, so there’s probably more WIP there.

Voltron - 15 docs, but some of those documents are for series, so there’s might be multiple WIPs in the document.

And that’s just the unfinished stuff. I didn’t include the stories that are done. I usually keep those on my hard drive too because I don’t trust the internet not to suddenly eat my work.

14. Do you write down story ideas, or just keep them in your head?

I keep them in my head way too often, then go back to stories I’ve set down for a couple months (or years) and don’t remember what was going to happen. I’m trying to get better about writing out at least a general outline for stories so that doesn’t happen.

15. Have you ever co-authored a story?

I have co-authored with @eastofthemoon and @ladydouji. I’m kind of a flake about writing though and I’m really bad at keeping deadlines with something I just do for fun, so I don’t team up very often.

16. How did you discover AO3?

Google search for fanfiction because there wasn’t enough decent stuff on ff.net.

17. Do you consider yourself to be a popular or famous author in your fandom(s) on AO3?

I don’t think so? I don’t pay much attention so I don’t have much bases for comparison.

18. Do you have a nickname or fandom name for your readers?

Nope.

19. Was there an author who inspired or encouraged you to write?

I read a lot growing up (not so much now - grad school does a really good job burning you out when it comes to reading). I loved fantasy mostly, and a little bit of sci-fi, although that’s never been a super sharp distinction for me.

Patricia McKillip is my favorite author. I absolutely love the way she writes and the way she crafts stories. I really enjoyed Jane Yolen, and Bruce Coville too.

20. What writing advice would you give to a beginning author?

I really like Neil Gaiman’s 8 Rules of Writing.

The most important thing you can do is write. Get the words on the paper. That’s really the hardest part. I like his last rule best though “Write your story as it needs to be written. Write it honestly and tell it as best you can.”

21. Do you plot out your stories, or do you just figure it out as you go?

I usually know where they’re going (in my head at least, by the time I actually start getting words on the page), but sometimes they end up taking unexpected turns or new scenes show up out of now where while I’m writing. That’s part of what makes writing exciting. 

22. Have you ever gotten a bad comment on a story? If so, what did you do?

Nothing terrible, but a few (at least one of which went over my head until years later because they were being sarcastic).

I find I have an increasingly low reserve of energy, and things like that are not worth spending it on. I just ignore them.

23. Is there a certain type of scene that you have a hard time writing? (action, smut, etc..)

Interpersonal conflict! Why would these two normally rational people who care about each other let a thing escalate to the point of them actually fighting over it, or having it damaging their relationship, or coming to blows over it? And how do I write that in a way that doesn’t sound contrived and is in character to everyone involved.

24. What story(s) are you working on now?

Right now I’m working on finishing up the next Five Lions Cafe story, and also working on the last of the Mermaid Rescue and Rehab series.

I’m also working on a story that is probably going to be called Bad Moon on the Rise, and is focused on Lance and the Red Lion’s bond (and also has quintessence vampires).

25. Do you plan your next project(s) before you finish your current ongoing story(s)?

Yes! My brain never stops planning stories. Never.

26. Do you have a daily writing goal set for yourself?

Not really. Sometimes I’ll got through stretches where I write a lot, and other times my brain just melts and refuses to make words.

27. Do you think you’ve improved as a writer since you first started?

Yes! Even just going back a few years, but I’ve been writing since I was in elementary school, so there has been a great deal of improvement from the epic and fully illustrated “There are dinosaur ghosts living in our playground” that I wrote in first grade (and tried to convince my teacher was true).

28. What is your favorite story that you’ve written?

It’s actually not even up on AO3. It’s the only Narnia fanfic I ever wrote, and it’s called Refuge. One of those things that just felt unfinished and unaddressed in the Prince Caspian movie, and I like how I addressed it.

29. What is your least favorite story that you’ve written?

*Snorts* Thankfully lost to the great ether of individual fan sites that no longer exist, I had some CATS fanfics that were pretty terrible.

There’s also some Ronin Warriors stuff, and I think some stuff from the original Voltron dub, that’s pretty terrible, but I don’t have the heart to take down because people were actually kind enough to leave nice comments on them.

30. Where do you see yourself (as a writer) in 5 years?

The same, but hopefully better at it. I don’t really have any aspirations to be a professional writer. I’m happy just doing it for fun.

31. What is the easiest thing about writing?

The stories!

32. What is the hardest thing about writing?

Putting the words on the page!

33. Why do you write?

Because it’s fun! And challenging! And it gets the things in my head out of my head!

Tagging: anyone who wants to. I think all the people I know on tumblr have already been tagged.

[kingsmakers]

What are some of your upcoming fanfiction projects? What are some current projects you hope to finish this year?

Oh interesting question. I’ve narrowed down what I’m working on for sure, but of course there are some things that are coming up and some things that I’m hoping to finally finish. I used to be so much better at finishing fics, lmao.

Upcoming projects:Memento Mori (Game of Thrones) - June 2019Final confirmed Game of Thrones fic, at least until I decide on whether I’ll go ahead with Nightingale. I’ve got heaps planned for Delylah Tully, and it’s going to be massively AU right from the beginning - it’s going to be fun, basically.Wild Card (Stranger Things) - July 2019I’m really wanting to have this fic up by the time the new season comes out. Remy’s story begins in Season 2, so it’s not like I’m super far behind in terms of this one.Dishonour (Star Wars) - December 2019Set in the new Star Wars trilogy, featuring Isabeau Hux and her eventual defection from the First Order. I’ve already started writing this, I just need to wait for the final film before I make solid plans about Isabeau.Fall From Grace (Star Wars) - December 2019Set in the Star Wars prequel trilogy because I love Obi-Wan Kenobi with my whole heart. I’ve written a few chapters for this one already too. Focuses on Valencia Jinn, daughter of Qui-Gon and her complicated feelings for Obi-Wan, as well as the Clone Wars and eventual fall of the Jedi Order. Plus let’s just say Valencia has some secrets.Lavender Bones (ACOTAR) - 2020Set just after the events of ACOTAR after everyone who was Under The Mountain is free. Focuses on Eris’s wife Demetria - who he married just before all the Amarantha drama, and who was very young when they married - and the fact that she develops a mating bond with Cassian despite being married. Eris mistreats her, but they have a child together, so there’s basically tension all around.Saints & Sinners (The Order) - 2020I love me some Knights of Saint Christopher, and the only reason this is waiting so long is because I want to hype it up for when Season 2 comes out next year. Follows Rory Coventry, Edward’s eldest child and only daughter, and her coming to terms with how complex The Order really is and also trying (badly) to hide her feelings for werewolf Hamish Duke.Finishing this year:From The Ashes (Game of Thrones) I adore this fic, but I figure I’ve only got about 12 or so chapters left. So my aim is to finish if not this year, then before May next year. I started this fic in May 2013, so it’s been going on a fair while. I love Tamara and her story, but I’m also looking forward to wrapping it up.Ghost (The 100)I recently decided that, considering the plotline for Season 6 of the show, I want to end Jacinta’s story in Season 5. It means going quite AU, it means several major changes. But I think it’s in the best interest of her story arc and character progression. I just can’t see her in Season 6 with so much having changed and I’m averse to killing a main oc unless it has to be done.

[inloveandwords]

I had such a great reading month in March!

You can check out my wrap up video here or read on to see what I read this month:

Unrated Reads

Roar: How to Match Your Food and Fitness to Your Unique Female Physiology for Optimum Performance, Great Health, and a Strong, Lean Body for Life by Stacy Sims *BUZZWORD READATHON READ

Women are not small men. Stop eating and training like one.

Because most nutrition products and training plans are designed for men, it’s no wonder that so many female athletes struggle to reach their full potential. ROAR is a comprehensive, physiology-based nutrition and training guide specifically designed for active women. This book teaches you everything you need to know to adapt your nutrition, hydration, and training to your unique physiology so you can work with, rather than against, your female physiology. Exercise physiologist and nutrition scientist Stacy T. Sims, PhD, shows you how to be your own biohacker to achieve optimum athletic performance.

Complete with goal-specific meal plans and nutrient-packed recipes to optimize body composition, ROAR contains personalized nutrition advice for all stages of training and recovery. Customizable meal plans and strengthening exercises come together in a comprehensive plan to build a rock-solid fitness foundation as you build lean muscle where you need it most, strengthen bone, and boost power and endurance. Because women’s physiology changes over time, entire chapters are devoted to staying strong and active through pregnancy and menopause. No matter what your sport is—running, cycling, field sports, triathlons—this book will empower you with the nutrition and fitness knowledge you need to be in the healthiest, fittest, strongest shape of your life.

Re-Reads

Rule (Marked Men #1) by Jay Crownover

Opposites in every way . . . except the one that matters

Shaw Landon loved Rule Archer from the moment she laid eyes on him. Rule is everything a straight-A pre-med student like Shaw shouldn’t want—and the only person she’s never tried to please. She isn’t afraid of his scary piercings and tattoos or his wild attitude. Though she knows that Rule is wrong for her, her heart just won’t listen.

To a rebel like Rule Archer, Shaw Landon is a stuck-up, perfect princess-and his dead twin brother’s girl. She lives by other people’s rules; he makes his own. He doesn’t have time for a good girl like Shaw-even if she’s the only one who can see the person he truly is.

But a short skirt, too many birthday cocktails, and spilled secrets lead to a night neither can forget. Now, Shaw and Rule have to figure out how a girl like her and a guy like him are supposed to be together without destroying their love . . . or each other.

Sweet Filthy Boy (Wild Seasons #1) by Christina Lauren

One-night stands are supposed to be with someone convenient, or wickedly persuasive, or regrettable. They aren’t supposed to be with someone like him.

But after a crazy Vegas weekend celebrating her college graduation—and terrified of the future path she knows is a cop-out—Mia Holland makes the wildest decision of her life: follow Ansel Guillaume—her sweet, filthy fling—to France for the summer and just…play.

When feelings begin to develop behind the provocative roles they take on, and their temporary masquerade adventures begin to feel real, Mia will have to decide if she belongs in the life she left because it was all wrong, or in the strange new one that seems worlds away.

4 Star Reads

Anywhere But Here (Anywhere, #1) by Stephanie Hoffman McManus *BUZZWORD READATHON READ

Seven years ago, I left Conway, South Carolina swearing I would never go back. I put that town in my rearview and didn’t stop until there were several hundred miles between me and the memories I wanted to leave behind. But you can’t outrun your own heart. The past always comes back, and it didn’t matter how far I went, I couldn’t erase the mark he left. I’d never met anyone like Kellen Nash before. He made me feel so . . . alive. Until I made the mistake of falling in love with him. I spent seven years trying to forget only to be forced to come face to face with him again. I wasn’t prepared for old wounds to be reopened or for him to still have this effect on me. He nearly broke me once. I won’t give him the chance to do it again, even if he does still look at me like he can see everything I keep hidden inside. There’s too much history between us, like the North and the South, to forgive and forget so easily, but the longer I’m back, the more I start to question what really happened then, and the more I worry about what will happen if he discovers my biggest secret.

At seventeen she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and not at all what I expected. A girl like her didn’t belong with a guy like me, but that didn’t stop me from wanting her, or breaking her heart. I never thought I’d see her again, but she’s back. Only she isn’t the girl I knew. In her place is an angry spitfire even more gorgeous than I remember, and she’s determined to take all that anger out on me. I’ve spent seven years missing her, living with the regret of letting her go, and when I start to catch glimpses of the girl I loved, I realize it’s never too late. Or is it?

This is the first in a series of inter-related stand alones. There is no cliffhanger, but Kellen and Shae’s story will continue to play out through the rest of the series. Contains mature content not recommended for readers under 17

The Beast’s Heart by Leife Shallcross *TALK DARCY TO ME BOOK CLUB PICK

A luxuriously magical retelling of Beauty and the Beast set in seventeenth-century France–and told from the point of view of the Beast himself.

I am neither monster nor man—yet I am both.

I am the Beast.

He is a broken, wild thing, his heart’s nature exposed by his beastly form. Long ago cursed with a wretched existence, the Beast prowls the dusty hallways of his ruined château with only magical, unseen servants to keep him company—until a weary traveler disturbs his isolation.

Bewitched by the man’s dreams of his beautiful daughter, the Beast devises a plan to lure her to the château. There, Isabeau courageously exchanges her father’s life for her own and agrees to remain with the Beast for a year. But even as their time together weaves its own spell, the Beast finds winning Isabeau’s love is only the first impossible step in breaking free from the curse . . .

5 Star Reads

Sweet Filthy Morning After (Wild Seasons #1.5) by Christina Lauren

This audio exclusive short tells of events from Sweet Filthy Boy from a new perspective.

Etiquette and Espionage (Finishing School #1) by Gail Carriger

It’s one thing to learn to curtsy properly. It’s quite another to learn to curtsy and throw a knife at the same time. Welcome to Finishing School.

Fourteen-year-old Sophronia is a great trial to her poor mother. Sophronia is more interested in dismantling clocks and climbing trees than proper manners–and the family can only hope that company never sees her atrocious curtsy. Mrs. Temminnick is desperate for her daughter to become a proper lady. So she enrolls Sophronia in Mademoiselle Geraldine’s Finishing Academy for Young Ladies of Quality.

But Sophronia soon realizes the school is not quite what her mother might have hoped. At Mademoiselle Geraldine’s, young ladies learn to finish…everything. Certainly, they learn the fine arts of dance, dress, and etiquette, but they also learn to deal out death, diversion, and espionage–in the politest possible ways, of course. Sophronia and her friends are in for a rousing first year’s education.

Punk 57 by Penelope Douglas

“We were perfect together. Until we met.”

Misha

I can’t help but smile at the words in her letter. She misses me.

In fifth grade, my teacher set us up with pen pals from a different school. Thinking I was a girl, with a name like Misha, the other teacher paired me up with her student, Ryen. My teacher, believing Ryen was a boy like me, agreed.

It didn’t take long for us to figure out the mistake. And in no time at all, we were arguing about everything. The best take-out pizza. Android vs. iPhone. Whether or not Eminem is the greatest rapper ever…

And that was the start. For the next seven years, it was us.

Her letters are always on black paper with silver writing. Sometimes there’s one a week or three in a day, but I need them. She’s the only one who keeps me on track, talks me down, and accepts everything I am.

We only had three rules. No social media, no phone numbers, no pictures. We had a good thing going. Why ruin it?

Until I run across a photo of a girl online. Name’s Ryen, loves Gallo’s pizza, and worships her iPhone. What are the chances?

F*ck it. I need to meet her.

I just don’t expect to hate what I find.

Ryen

He hasn’t written in three months. Something’s wrong. Did he die? Get arrested? Knowing Misha, neither would be a stretch.

Without him around, I’m going crazy. I need to know someone is listening. It’s my own fault. I should’ve gotten his number or picture or something.

He could be gone forever.

Or right under my nose, and I wouldn’t even know it.

  The Girl Who Drank the Moon by Kelly Barnhill *BUZZWORD READATHON READ

Every year, the people of the Protectorate leave a baby as an offering to the witch who lives in the forest. They hope this sacrifice will keep her from terrorizing their town. But the witch in the forest, Xan, is kind and gentle. She shares her home with a wise Swamp Monster named Glerk and a Perfectly Tiny Dragon, Fyrian. Xan rescues the abandoned children and deliver them to welcoming families on the other side of the forest, nourishing the babies with starlight on the journey.

One year, Xan accidentally feeds a baby moonlight instead of starlight, filling the ordinary child with extraordinary magic. Xan decides she must raise this enmagicked girl, whom she calls Luna, as her own. To keep young Luna safe from her own unwieldy power, Xan locks her magic deep inside her. When Luna approaches her thirteenth birthday, her magic begins to emerge on schedule–but Xan is far away. Meanwhile, a young man from the Protectorate is determined to free his people by killing the witch. Soon, it is up to Luna to protect those who have protected her–even if it means the end of the loving, safe world she’s always known.

Stalking Jack the Ripper (Stalking Jack the Ripper #1) by Kerri Maniscalco

Presented by James Patterson’s new children’s imprint, this deliciously creepy horror novel has a storyline inspired by the Ripper murders and an unexpected, blood-chilling conclusion…

Seventeen-year-old Audrey Rose Wadsworth was born a lord’s daughter, with a life of wealth and privilege stretched out before her. But between the social teas and silk dress fittings, she leads a forbidden secret life.

Against her stern father’s wishes and society’s expectations, Audrey often slips away to her uncle’s laboratory to study the gruesome practice of forensic medicine. When her work on a string of savagely killed corpses drags Audrey into the investigation of a serial murderer, her search for answers brings her close to her own sheltered world.

The story’s shocking twists and turns, augmented with real, sinister period photos, will make this dazzling, #1 New York Times bestselling debut from author Kerri Maniscalco impossible to forget.

This Savage Song (Monsters of Verity #1) by Victoria Schwab

There’s no such thing as safe in a city at war, a city overrun with monsters. In this dark urban fantasy from author Victoria Schwab, a young woman and a young man must choose whether to become heroes or villains—and friends or enemies—with the future of their home at stake. The first of two books.

Kate Harker and August Flynn are the heirs to a divided city—a city where the violence has begun to breed actual monsters. All Kate wants is to be as ruthless as her father, who lets the monsters roam free and makes the humans pay for his protection. All August wants is to be human, as good-hearted as his own father, to play a bigger role in protecting the innocent—but he’s one of the monsters. One who can steal a soul with a simple strain of music. When the chance arises to keep an eye on Kate, who’s just been kicked out of her sixth boarding school and returned home, August jumps at it. But Kate discovers August’s secret, and after a failed assassination attempt the pair must flee for their lives.

When Dimple Met Rishi (Dimple and Rishi #1) by Sandhya Menon *BUZZWORD READATHON READ

Dimple Shah has it all figured out. With graduation behind her, she’s more than ready for a break from her family, from Mamma’s inexplicable obsession with her finding the “Ideal Indian Husband.” Ugh. Dimple knows they must respect her principles on some level, though. If they truly believed she needed a husband right now, they wouldn’t have paid for her to attend a summer program for aspiring web developers…right?

Rishi Patel is a hopeless romantic. So when his parents tell him that his future wife will be attending the same summer program as him—wherein he’ll have to woo her—he’s totally on board. Because as silly as it sounds to most people in his life, Rishi wants to be arranged, believes in the power of tradition, stability, and being a part of something much bigger than himself.

The Shahs and Patels didn’t mean to start turning the wheels on this “suggested arrangement” so early in their children’s lives, but when they noticed them both gravitate toward the same summer program, they figured, Why not?

Dimple and Rishi may think they have each other figured out. But when opposites clash, love works hard to prove itself in the most unexpected ways.

Five Feet Apart by Rachael Lippincott

Can you love someone you can never touch? Stella Grant likes to be in control—even though her totally out of control lungs have sent her in and out of the hospital most of her life. At this point, what Stella needs to control most is keeping herself away from anyone or anything that might pass along an infection and jeopardize the possibility of a lung transplant. Six feet apart. No exceptions.

The only thing Will Newman wants to be in control of is getting out of this hospital. He couldn’t care less about his treatments, or a fancy new clinical drug trial. Soon, he’ll turn eighteen and then he’ll be able to unplug all these machines and actually go see the world, not just its hospitals.

Will’s exactly what Stella needs to stay away from. If he so much as breathes on Stella she could lose her spot on the transplant list. Either one of them could die. The only way to stay alive is to stay apart. But suddenly six feet doesn’t feel like safety. It feels like punishment.

What if they could steal back just a little bit of the space their broken lungs have stolen from them? Would five feet apart really be so dangerous if it stops their hearts from breaking too?

  Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler *BUZZWORD READATHON READ

I’m telling you why we broke up, Ed. I’m writing it in this letter, the whole truth of why it happened.

Min Green and Ed Slaterton are breaking up, so Min is writing Ed a letter and giving him a box. Inside the box is why they broke up. Two bottle caps, a movie ticket, a folded note, a box of matches, a protractor, books, a toy truck, a pair of ugly earrings, a comb from a motel room, and every other item collected over the course of a giddy, intimate, heartbreaking relationship. Item after item is illustrated and accounted for, and then the box, like a girlfriend, will be dumped.

Sure Thing (Gemini Duet #1) by Jana Aston

Have you ever set out to have a one night stand with a sexy stranger? No? I’m the only one? Just kidding, I would never. Ever. Not usually.

But then I figured, why not? My entire life I’ve been good and it’s gotten me nowhere. No job. No apartment. No boyfriend.

I’m owed a little fun, aren’t I? A reward for being good. Sure, a new pair of shoes would be more appropriate, but Mr. Sexy Stranger is more appealing. And when he speaks—in that British accent—it’s a done deal. Every American woman has a hot British guy fantasy. Well, most do. I haven’t taken a poll or anything, but I’m pretty sure it’s a fact.

Except… You know that saying about best-laid plans? Good, because I don’t either, but I assume they go awry. Like my one night stand…

What If It’s Us by Becky Albertalli & Adam Silvera *BUZZWORD READATHON READ

Arthur is only in New York for the summer, but if Broadway has taught him anything, it’s that the universe can deliver a showstopping romance when you least expect it.

Ben thinks the universe needs to mind its business. If the universe had his back, he wouldn’t be on his way to the post office carrying a box of his ex-boyfriend’s things.

But when Arthur and Ben meet-cute at the post office, what exactly does the universe have in store for them?

Maybe nothing. After all, they get separated.

Maybe everything. After all, they get reunited.

But what if they can’t quite nail a first date . . . or a second first date . . . or a third?

What if Arthur tries too hard to make it work . . . and Ben doesn’t try hard enough?

What if life really isn’t like a Broadway play?

But what if it is?

  March Wrap Up I had such a great reading month in March! You can check out my wrap up video here…