#but that was taken away because wifes can't have swords!

[mylonelydreaming]

How dare you bury fax in the tags

Tbh tho I think totk is more misogynistic than botw idk how to put it

[khattikeri]

one of my favorite things about mdzs is that for how heavily its plot involves politics of classism and misogyny... even the characters most directly impacted by it can't and don't free themselves from it. literally the closest exception is mianmian.

meng yao being the "son of a whore" wasn't some sort of commie awakening for him that led him to wanting everyone to be socially equal. he played the political game, climbed the ladders, sucked up to and backstabbed and murdered people, including other prostitutes who actually had nothing to do with how he and his mother were treated at the brothel he grew up in.

he put in so much extra excessive effort for even a fraction of the same respect that members of gentry cultivation clans got. and he did deserve to be treated more humanely! but he feeds into the exact same system that created him, leading to his own undoing.

his efforts were for a fragile upward mobility that was never going to hold up. he never surpassed his origins nor did he empower others in similar stations, because the society he lives in is not one that would accept that.

the second he got caught and all those crimes exposed, he was scapegoated to hell and back, replacing wei wuxian as society's terrible one-sidedly evil boogeyman overnight.

speaking of not-quite male gentry, i think it's interesting that wei wuxian explicitly doesn't try to climb the ladders in BOTH lives, knowing full well that anything he does will be punished just for the sheer fact that he is wei wuxian.

wei wuxian is scolded for giving intelligent and correct answers in school. lan wangji does the same and is praised.

wei wuxian occasionally lounges around with fellow disciples and is punished. jiang cheng does the same and mostly escapes.

wei wuxian refuses to carry his sword around in public (after losing his golden core, which nobody knows) and is scorned as an arrogant upstart. nie huaisang has been doing the EXACT SAME THING for YEARS and nobody bats an eye.

unlike jin guangyao, wei wuxian knew subconsciously from the start that his acceptance was superficial and that he could be cast out any time. when he was 10 and recently taken in by the jiangs, he canonically would not eat or use "too much" food and water because he thought they'd find him a nuisance for "wasting their things" and kick him back out.

now away from just the classism, yu ziyuan is a proud and strong noblewoman in a society that belittles and derides women for everything they do. her strong cultivation doesn't matter. she's victim to the vicious rumors of her husband loving another woman who is strong like her but apparently had a more likeable personality.

it doesn't matter even if jiang fengmian didn't cheat or that wei wuxian is wei changze's son with cangse sanren; yu ziyuan can't bear with the humiliation of herself (and by extension her children) not being "good enough". she's ridiculed for "failing" in that one duty as a wife, mother, and woman.

she lashes out and takes out that anger on everyone present for years, giving her children lasting trauma and also being a key element in how the jiang family and yunmeng jiang sect are effectively wiped out at the hands of the wen clan.

madam jin doesn't even have a name outside of the fact that she's married to jin guangshan. i don't even remember reading anything that indicates if she's a strong or weak cultivator, or what, which in itself proves that to most people, it doesn't matter. she's "just" a woman.

of course she's angry at her husband's affairs and all the bastard children they bring in. but she also can't do anything about them, so she lashes out at the few people she can: servants. non-cultivators, probably. those very same bastard children.

shoutout to meng yao getting shoved down a flight of stairs at age fourteen, because if madam jin tried that move against her husband instead, it would make her lose even more face, which as a noblewoman she'd never do.

and that's not getting into how jiang yanli is consistently sidelined for being physically weak.

that's not getting into how mianmian was actually a good cultivator, but was mocked by everyone around her for trying to stand up for wei wuxian when everyone was turning on him. how everyone scoffed at luo qingyang's words as "just some lovesick woman" who "obviously wants to marry or bed him since he saved her".

luo qingyang is the only one of these characters who HASN'T died. she didn't play society's games like jin guangyao. she didn't dig her heels in confidence of her own abilities like wei wuxian.

she didn't bitterly lash out like yu ziyuan and madam jin. she didn't gently accept it like jiang yanli.

she just LEFT.

she married an ordinary merchant and cultivates separately from mainstream cultivation society, and therein found her own peace and happiness.

mxtx doesn't bother with particularly class conscious or feminist vocabulary to hand-hold readers into understanding these disparities, but that choice highlights them & the deeply entrenched politics of their society even more. i really love it.

[shanastoryteller]

HAPPY HOLLYDAZE!! More Lady Mo if possible!!! ✨

a continuation of 52 53 54 55 56 57

"I believe," Lan Wangji says severely, "that what my wife does or does not do is no one's concern but mine."

Xuanyu raises an eyebrow at that, which he ignores. He knows exactly what she thinks about his concern regarding her actions. She'd been irritated that he was upset she faced fierce corpses alone, of all things.

Jin Zixun pales, but he must have a high opinion of his own importance because he says, "For fuck's sake, you're being ridiculous. A year ago no one would have cared if she drunk herself to death and now she can't even have a little wine?"

Lan Wangji does not make the conscious decision to unsheathe his blade, but there it is gleaming in his hand.

Jiang Yanli is being pushed back into her seat by her husband while her son stares wide eyed.

There's some intense shuffling from the Lan section. Although he doesn't turn around, he does hear Jingyi and Sizhui whispering furiously. He wonders who is restraining who.

Jiang Cheng is standing with a hand on his sword and no one is going to any effort to restrain him at all. Li Shuchun, the only one that might have a chance of it, is leaning back to exchange money with another Jiang disciple.

"This is quite enough!" Jin Guangshan shouts. "What's this about? Sect Leader Lan-"

"Oh, be quiet Father," Xuanyu says, getting to her feet and stepping forward to grab his hand and shove his hand down. "What's with you today, Wangji? Put that away." She's very close and glaring at him, so he resheathes his sword.

"Jin Xuanyu!" Jin Guangshan thunders.

She rolls her eyes, turning to Jin Zixun. She punches his shoulder, a move that he dodges instantly. Which leaves him wide open when she grabs his sword off his hip, tosses it to Jin Guangyao, and then drops to kick his legs out from under him.

She pushes down on his shoulder, keeping him on his knees, and says, "Wangji, dear, would you hold him for me?"

She called him dear.

He steps to grab Jin Zixun's wrists, keeping him in place.

"What are you doing?" he howls. "You can't just-"

"You wanted to drink, right?" she asks then picks up a wine bottle with one hand and pinches his nose shut with the other.

He opens his mouth and Xuanyu pours wine down his throat. He can either drink or drown.

"Come on," she says cheerfully, "don't you want to drink to another fruitful year? Have some more!"

He drinks until he's coughing and sputtering, eyes glassy. Everyone just watches, but then again who is there to say anything? Jin Zixuan is keeping himself firmly in his own seat and Jin Guangshan and Madame Jin are just staring, probably more interested in watching everyone else's reaction then anything else.

"There," she says once the bottle is empty. "Feeling better?"

"You're crazy," he coughs.

Xuanyu's grin widens. "I am the legitimate daughter of Sect Leader Jin. I am the wife of Hanguang Jun. What I am is someone who is above you. You're lucky I don't have you whipped for your impudence. Isn't he, Father?"

Jin Guangyao has never once made a fuss about his status, afraid that what was easily given could be easily taken. Xuanyu clearly is, because her own status can't be revoked without making a mockery of the Jin's treaty with the Lan, and Jin Guangshan either reaffirms her rights and privileges as his daughter or risks lowering the authority of the son he does favor - Jin Zixuan.

Lan Wangji is suddenly grateful that Xuanyu hadn't been interested in manipulating him to her benefit.

Jin Guangshan is nearly purple in rage, but he gets out through clenched teeth, "Yes, Xuanyu. Of course."

"Why has the music stopped?" she asks the hall, giving Lan Wangji a look. He lets go of Jin Zixun and can't help the curl of amusement when he falls flat on his face. "This is a banquet, after all!"

The music starts up again and conversation slowly starts once more as Jin Zixun stumbles from the hall. He doesn't want to leave her side, but she's seated by Jin Guangyao once more and chatting about the schedule for tomorrow. Jin Guangyao seems supremely relaxed, which Lan Wangji is given to believe that means he's laughing on the inside.

He sits down next to his brother, waiting for the scolding he rightfully deserves.

"Wangji," Xichen says seriously. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I think I love your wife."

He hides his smile behind his teacup.

[ladykailitha]

The Last Dragon Slayer

This is what my brain gets up when I'm sick and can't sleep.

Enjoy!

~

50 years prior there were a rise in dragon habitations and to combat what the humans saw was an infestation trained dragon slayers.

But the profession is dying out as most of the evil dragons have been slain, and those that try are beat back by their own kind.

In a small kingdom the evil King Richard wants to get rid of the dragon that has taken residence in the mountain nearby.

So he hunts around to find that all the dragon slayers have died or retired long since.

All but one. Sir Steven of Harring's Town. He is a disgraced prince whose mother was eaten by a dragon shortly after his birth and has vowed to find and kill the creature.

The King almost turns him away when he arrives. He is thin, almost too thin to hold up his armor, his horse is on its last legs. His sword is chipped with many battles and held together with leather and tattered silk.

It's clear this man has not known a decent meal in a really long time.

But the dragon must be dealt with.

So the king feeds Sir Steve up for a couple of days so that he at least has the strength to draw his sword and sends off, pointing in the direction of the beast's mountain.

The dragon, Edgewraith, is black dragon with red eyes, claws, and underscales.

He is quite fearsome to behold.

He watches as this piteous creature stumbles off his aging horse and struggles up to the cave entrance.

"How desperate King Richard must be," Edgewraith hisses, smoke and spark spilling from his mouth. “To send me you."

Sir Steven pulls off his helmet and throws it to the ground. "I am the last dragon slayer, monster. All I ask is a shift death and that you mount my head on a spike in front of your cave announcing my demise."

Edgewraith is startled but before he could even form a response, the knight faints.

Two weeks later Sir Steve wakes to find the most beautiful man standing over him with a cup of broth. He has long dark curls and reddish brown eyes. Sir Steven falls in love almost immediately.

Eddie, as the man introduces himself, tells him that no one will come looking for him, as the dragon has spelled a skull to look like his visage and done as he asked.

Sir Steve is dead as far as the world knows.

Steve cries in relief.

The two slowly get to know each other and fall in love.

But before they can make love for the first time, Eddie reveals himself to be the dragon, Edgewraith.

Steve replies that he figured it out a long time ago and didn't mind. He took care of him when no one else would. Of course he fell in love with him.

Eddie knows that they can't couple, because of how hot he runs but one day a stray ember hits Steve in the leg but he doesn't call out in pain.

He picks it up and tosses it neatly into the fire. Once while making dinner for them both, Steve slips with the knife, but he doesn't bleed.

So Eddie starts pressing Steve a bit more about the dragon that supposedly ate his mother. All the villagers had described it as breathtaking. Bright bronze scales on top and warm brown eyes, claws, and underscale.

Eddie knows who this is and sends out the call.

Mirrorsong arrives and when she sees Steve instantly transforms.

"Mother?" Steve cries because the castle had paintings of his mother everywhere and he even kept a miniature he had painted himself with him at all times.

She runs to him and tells him the truth.

She fell in love with his father and married him. But when she gave birth to Steven, her insides burned the midwife's arms, nearly killing her. When the king learned this he banished his wife and raised her son as a dragon slayer.

Steve learns that while he can't change shape like Eddie and Mira, he cannot be hurt and he will live a long life. Maybe not as long as Eddie, but they have centuries instead of decades now.

The old king dies and the new king is kinder.All the kids like to go up to the mountain to play with the two strangers who protect their town.

And everyone lives happily ever after.

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Cursed idea I had in the shower.

Bruce gets hit with a sleeping beauty type of curse.

You know. Be asleep in a deathlike state and only be awoken by a true love kiss.

(Let's assume Zatanna can't do shit for that type of old magic used and that was the only cure)

But the question is who is Batman's true love?

Catwoman is first candidate. He was going to marry her once. It didn't work.

Then, Damian asked his mom. Talia Al Ghul. The woman Bruce did marry and even had a kid with. Nope.

So kids are starting to panic.

They have to find that one special someone Bruce loves but he's Batman.

He doesn't talk about his feelings ever and making him do it is like pulling out teeth.

So they starts calling people they thought Bruce had good chemistry with.

Wonder Woman raised an eyebrow at the batkids' request but does it anyway. Didn't work.

Zatanna also reacted the same way.

Leslie Thompkins does it after some badgering.

Both Harley and Ivy does it to humor them.

Then, someone (Tim) finds Bruce's diary from where he was a teenager.

In it, Bruce talks about his crush on this boy, comparing him to the sun. Took a while for Tim to come to the horrifying realization that Bruce was talking about Harvey Dent aka Two Face.

They somehow managed to get Harvey to kiss Bruce. It still didn't work. But the kids are kinda traumatized by how close they were to having Two Face as a stepdad.

Then, they realised that they were only focusing on Bruce's female romantic interests so they decided to get everyone Bruce ever had chemistry with.

Clark had to awkwardly do it in front of his wife when he just came over to the Batcave check in on his best friend.

Lois gave Bruce a quick peck on the lips, just to make things somewhat even. (There was an inaudible sigh of relief when Bruce didn't wake up)

"That is the closest to a threesome with Bruce Wayne I will ever get." Lois joked, making Clark choke.

Oliver Queen went to wash his mouth right after giving the kiss. Dinah made a show of it to make Oliver jealous. The two of them took off immediately afterwards.

Hal Jordan was ready to run as soon as he did the deed.

Barry politely declined and the kids didn't push him. Because it is obvious that he and Bruce just hold respect towards each other. Same with Martian Manhunter and Aquaman.

John Constantine laughed in their faces when he heard their request. Once he realised they weren't joking, he still did it anyways and afterwards dropped an innuendo that implied that he had kissed Batman before and maybe something even more. Stole another kiss and promptly got out of Gotham before Damian had time to grab his sword.

They got the Riddler who was confused (or riddled, excuse my terrible pun) the entire time because minding his own business, got kidnapped by the Bat brats in daylight, found himself in the infamous Batcave and told to kiss Batman. He quickly did what he was told and then asked to be taken back right away so he can forgot what just happened.

The Bats voted on whether they should get Joker before they all unanimously agreed to never bring that idea again.

So the Batkids tried everything to find Batman's / Bruce's true love.

But guess what woke him up in the end? The answer was them all along. (Not Batcest. Batcest shippers DNI.)

You know that scene in Maleficent where she kisses Aurora on the forehead and she wakes up. Exactly like that.

The kids having done everything they could. Have to come to the conclusion that Bruce was as good as dead. One of the boys, maybe Dick or Jason, says goodbye and one of the others give Bruce a kiss on the forehead.

Cass started it and Dick does it too. Damian in a moment of weakness, does the same. One by one, the kids kissed Bruce of the forehead as a sign of goodbye. (You know Steph and Jason does it out of sibling peer pressure.) They all gathered to say, "Bruce, we love you."

Then, the motherfucker had the nerve to finally open his eyes in that moment to see his kids crying around him.

Bruce loves his kids. ❤️

[radiocrypt-id]

Gerrard is painful in a way I didn't really understand at first. He's like, 30. He's grown. A handsome prince, married to a wonderful woman that's trying to do her job and prevent the deaths of her people. But all he thinks about is the ball. he offers to look through a sword form book as a way of "helping", or to appear to be helping anyway. He's a coward. He hides with the children and escapes through a secret tunnel and runs away. He's desperate to convince anyone, including himself, that he's a handsome prince who is in love with his wife and their marriage is going great.

And I didn't get it, at first. I thought he was funny and probably more like the average person in a terrible time, not a hero. He's a grumpy adult that feels like the world he was promised got taken away from him when he did nothing to hold onto that world in the first place.

And then they played through his story. He was 9 when he was turned into a frog. 9. A baby, unable to understand what it was he'd done wrong. He was a spoiled little prince with absent parents that was 9 and didn't want to interact with a random strange old woman at his door asking for stuff. An adult could have been gotten. His parents could have been summoned by a servant and brought to the door or a higher servant could have handled the talk but no, no they let a 9 year old boy open that massive door to a random stranger asking to come inside out of the rain. Any child would have said no. Any child. Because an old woman he'd never met was asking to go inside his home. I would have said no, any of the other characters at the table would have said no. She's a scary old lady on his doorstep! And yeah maybe he said it in a dickish way. Maybe he called her a peasant or said 'how dare you' to her face, but he was 9 years old, what 9 year old isn't a weird little dick? Especially when they don't know what's going on? Stranger danger is literally a thing taught to children as soon as they can walk! Any one would have said no. But Gerrard said no, and was turned into a frog for it.

But you know what's worse then being turned into a frog and dropped in a pond a bit away from your home? Never being looked for. Not once. He was out there, he could see hunters and soldiers. A tiny Gerrard must have waited months, just staring out into the woods, straining his ears, listening for his mother or father calling his name. And then just listening for his name at all. And then just listening for any sign of humans at all. No one was looking for him. For all the servants charged with taking care of a young prince, not one saw what happened to him and not one went looking. It's hard to be small and scared and alone, waiting for someone to come get you but no one ever comes to get you. It's hard to learn that the people that are supposed to love you just... don't.

And later on, after becoming a handsome man and marrying Elody, Gerrard spent more years of his life as a frog in a pond than a prince. Day dreaming about balls and gossip and feasts and all the fun things about being a prince because it's all he can remember about his time as a prince. He didn't have the classes he should have had. He missed out on etiquette, and sword play, and politics, and war. He missed those lessons, because he was just a little frog in a pond during the years he would have learned all that. But he's expected to know. Elody loves him, but she expects him to know how to be a prince. She expects him to understand war and strife and taxes and all those important things and doesn't once stop to ask if he actually knows these things. Of course he didn't want to talk about the war effort. Of course he asked about the ball and offered to read a book about sword play. It's not that he could give more and chose not to, he genuinely didn't know how to do more than that. He was taking what initiative he could. He could teach himself how to fight, sure! but he can't teach himself how to be a general. All he wants is to be safe, and for the person he loves to be safe. And he assumes that anyone would run away from a losing battle because he would. He grew up a frog that had to survive by running away and letting someone else die so he could live. But even once he ran, he went looking for Elody. Because although Elody is falling out of love with Gerrard, he loves her fiercely. And as he goes on his adventure and fights and dies and fights more, he gets it. He gets what Elody wanted from him and what she needed him to be and that he failed to do that.

So he's learning better now. He learning to accept personal sacrifice, like with the glass shard. He's learning to be diplomatic, like with the pig. He's learning to be dangerous and capable, like in the fight against muffet. He's learning what it means to rely on people and be honest with them about his failings so they can cover his ass, like with the party. It's hard to learn these things. It's hard to try and sus out who is helpful and who isn't. It's hard to not hand off his problems again for someone else to fix. Because even though he's 30 now, he spent an unknown number of years as a frog, and he's desperately trying to catch up without letting anyone know he's behind because they might not like him anymore if they know how far behind them he is. He's doing his very best and, terrifyingly, the person that's supposed to love him is loving him less because his best isn't good enough for her. Once again, he's missing and no one is looking for him.

But that's okay, because this time, Gerrard can do the looking.

[hum-suffer]

We'll say hello again (nevermind the chasm between us) 15

Bhairav's birthday starts in a way that any normal day does.

He wakes up at dawn, gets ready, takes a trip to the Mahadev temple in the palace and goes to Princess Gauri's room. Yamuna nods at him in greeting with a tired smirk from her station at his Princess' door.

"A punctual guard, Bhairav. I like your consistency. I was just about getting tired." Yamuna smiles at him and pats his shoulder in what he assumes is a compliment. He's never understood the need to touch others without an objective.

(A voice in his head hisses,"Objective like harm."

He's forgotten what a tender touch means. He only touches to harm. He's a weapon.)

Still, he smiles back at Yamuna,"I don't want Harihar to complain to me about his wife being grumpy because she had to stand too long."

Yamuna shakes her head,"In that case, I'd have killed you for being late before he complained to you."

Bhairav raises a non-believing eyebrow at that. Yamuna rolls her eyes,"Fine. The only reason I wouldn't kill you is because I know that the princess would kill me too."

And Bhairav can kill Yamuna without a delay, is what they both don't say. She's been standing guard at the door for long hours, her mind bored and sight dulled with sudden brightness. He's well rested and ready. He's taller than Yamuna and is habituated to fighting in all circumstances. He has three daggers on him, and a sword that he sharpens every night, before going to sleep.

He can kill. He chooses not to.

(Does that mean he's not even a good weapon?)

Yamuna shakes her head and leaves, cheery and unaware of the dark turn that Bhairav's thoughts had taken. He takes his position by the door and relaxes his stiff posture. The princess would be leaving the room in some time, she wakes up early as well. And she will have to be earlier today, still. To show that governor around the palace.

Bhairav tries but he can't keep his distaste of the man away from his job, his princess. Something in the way the man looks at his princess makes him want to unsheathe his sword. He knows that he thinks out of line for a mere slave, yet, his princess has not only let him be impertinent but also encourages his absymal behaviour.

(He sometimes forgets the chasm that lies between them. He sometimes genuinely thinks that she is his friend. She is his devotion and duty. He is reminded of that everyday as walks with her spine straight and head high.)

Bhairav hears footsteps before he sees him.

Vijay. He's up and about, cheery and ready as he nears the princess' chambers with a spring in his step. Bhairav is nineteen. The same age that Vijay was when he married. And now, Vijay flutters around his princess, a young woman of eighteen, whilst he himself is thirty.

Bhairav wraps his distaste in forceful ignorance and puts it away in a box in his mind. He knows his face is neutral as the man nears and he struggles to keep it so when he presumptuously turns towards the princess' doors and bloody fucking knocks.

His sword is a serpent's tongue on his thigh as he steps between the door and the man and glares at Vijay. From the other side of the door, his Princess answers sharply,"Who dares?"

Vijay flinches at her tone and Bhairav can imagine the sharp way her kohl lined eyes would glance across the room in righteous anger as she notes that it is not Bhairav who has knocked. Bhairav has never received that particular tone, he thinks smugly. His princess somehow always knows when Bhairav is knocking.

(Bahubali doesn't knock. Bhallaldeva knocks once and enters before she can allow him. Bhairav knows.)

(Bhairav knows not that he knocks in a pattern. A two sharp knocks that make four soft thuds as his knuckles as well as his wrist hits the door when he knocks. He has copied his sister's way of knocking since he was but a child. He is unaware that no one else knocks in the same pattern. The perpetual bruise on the side of his wrist is but a footnote in his day.)

"Bhairav?" She calls from the chambers, tone commanding and of the woman who should have been Queen, if Mahishmati was women oriented.

His glare doesn't leave Vijay as he turns sideways and knocks. Instantly, his princess calls him in,"Enter, Bhairav."

He closes the door behind himself because he knows his princess will hate it if some stranger would dare to see her chambers— the rooms which could be called the heart of the palace, in Bhairav's humble opinion.

She's dressed in a light turquoise saree and her hair is open still, slightly damp from her bath, he assumes. She is standing near the hinges of the door, one hand holding the dagger that used to be Bhairav's and the other holding a scroll. She is tense but she relaxes halfway through when he closes the door behind himself.

In this moment, she is the perfect definition of Gauraangi Devi, the Princess of Mahishmati. Fierce, beautiful and clever.

Bhairav bows his head in greeting. "The Western governor is outside, my princess."

"Was he the one who knocked?" Bhairav can hear the dangerous undertone at his audacity and he knows that they're standing right at the door and if Vijay hasn't moved away, he can at least hear the whispers of her words.

Bhairav nods. "I apologise, my princess. He broke protocol and I was not alert enough for that."

He was. He was extremely alert enough. He could have drugged the man and dragged him into the dungeons if he so wished. But there is a part of him, a part that could very well get him killed one day, that wanted his princess to be angrier at the man. Bhairav knows he has added fuel to the fire of her irritation and made it anger.

He thinks it will not take even the whole day for anger to become wrath.

And he wants to rush the process along. He doesn't trust the way Vijay looks at her. She is not a price, but a treasure. Vijay looks at her like a lottery and Bhairav gets the distinct impression that he would treat her no better.

His princess finally relaxes completely and nods with a deep breath. "Tell him to wait," she orders firmly, slipping the dagger into her waistline. Visible and full of warning. She turns on her heel and walks towards the mirror in her room, running a hand through her hair to help dry it as she goes. Bhairav nods and bows, takes a step back before turning his back to her.

(Like he never instantly turns his back towards Durga in her temple.)

"Stop," she calls in a heavy voice. He can feel her frustration as he turns. She purses her lips and sighs, recomposing herself in front of his eyes. When she speaks next, she is the epitome of etiquette. "Tell his Excellency that I will see him in some moments and I regret the tardiness on my part."

Bhairav dislikes that she has to sweeten her words but he nods and takes his leave, eyes never leaving her as he leaves.

Vijay is still at the spot that Bhairav left him at and Bhairav resumes his glare as he relays his Princess' message to the unwanted man. Vijay seems positively smug when Bhairav mentions his Princess' apologies and waves his hand dismissively. "I'm sure she won't do it again," he murmurs to himself as he turns away from Bhairav.

For a delicious moment, Bhairav wants to unwrap his rage and let it kill the presumptuous man like a noose. But he maintains the control that he has always maintained, stoic and proud of his self control. He chooses instead to focus on the governor. Bhairav isn't impressed.

The man may be well built, but he clearly lacks patience as he shifts from one foot to another impatiently. There are no visible weapons on him but the multiple necklaces he wears are extremely easy to use to choke him. Such neglect towards oneself, and Vijay wants to court the princess of Mahishmati. If he can't take care of himself, how will he take care of his princess?

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»

His princess barely takes five more minutes before she is opening the door, hair braided in a simple side braid that is devoid of any accessories or flowers— because she did not have the time for them.

She nods at Bhairav and passes a more stoic nod to Vijay. "I again apologize for the delay, Mahoday."

"Please, call me Vijay. You are the princess, extremely above my station." He says, a bashful smile on his lips. "And do not fret, your highness. I know that women always take long to get ready."

Bhairav wants to bare his teeth and snarl at the man like an attack dog that many already call him. The man's negative bias over women is already clear and he doesn't deserve to be in the company of his princess. Bhairav keeps an iron grip on his self control and remains stoic.

His princess raises her eyebrows at Vijay almost casually. "Oh?" She says, and Bhairav has known her enough to know much of a mockery that is. Vijay doesn't. "You are experienced with many women, mahoday?"

Vijay shrugs and lowers his head in what seems to be shyness or shame. "I know a few. Your highness, I was wondering where exactly shall we start our tour with?"

"Certainly not the royal wing, mahodaya," she says with an incredulous tone that might seem friendly, when Bhairav knows she is still seething over his audacity to walk into the wing. He makes a mental note to find Katappa and use his help to find who let this man in the royal wing and later relocate that soldier. Preferably to the stables.

Bhairav trails four steps behind them, closer than normal, as his princess leads the man out of the royal wing and makes the first step to the Mahadev temple.

He stays quiet as she speaks of the architecture and the history of the palace, notes the way she runs her fingers in the carvings and knows every anecdote of the palace by heart. Vijay keeps speaking in between her lessons. It is extremely unbecoming and he knows she hates Vijay's behaviour. Bhairav is counting minutes to his Princess' ire increasing.

He isn't disappointed. Mere moments after his princess tells them of a story of a handloom and how the business is now a part of the royal palace, Vijay commits the grave mistake.

"A single saree takes almost six months to be—" his princess is speaking, spouting off facts that she's learnt since she was a child. She sounds professional rather than the animated tone she uses when she's talking to her family or Yamuna or Katappa or Bhairav himself.

Vijay interrupts her. "Is your follower always going to be following us?"

Bhairav can find five things wrong with that singular question and he's a base born soldier. His princess, who excels in etiquette, would find this grievous. She casually looks at Vijay, craning her neck gracefully, hiding her ire that Bhairav can see forming in the tightness of her shoulders.

"Yes, Mahoday. He is my sworn sword. Where I go, he goes." She's making him sound nothing more than a soldier and when she sneaks a glance at him while Vijay shakes his head, Bhairav pouts mockingly at her. It gets her to smile and her shoulders ease down, so he considers it a success.

A momentary success, however.

Vijay turns back to the princess and smiles condescendingly. "Then I must habituate myself with seeing Bhairav, shall I?"

"His name is Bhairavrath." His princess says, her tone chilling. Vijay looks back at Bhairav for a beat before he turns towards the princess, who continues to speak about the handlooms, as if she had not been interrupted at all.

Bhairav applauds her patience.

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»

Bhairav takes his midday meal with Katappa, who keeps on yapping about the stress he has because of security management on Mahashivratri. Bhairav, who is already eager to get back to his princess, sneaks off a glance at the formal dining area that they can see from the practice yards.

His princess sits stiffly but is flanked by her two brothers. The governor sits across from her, accompanied by her uncle and the Queen Mother takes the seat at the head of the table. Bhairav turns his attention back to Katappa the moment he spies Bahubali beginning to turn his head.

"I don't like the governor's household soldiers either," Katappa complains, sighing heavily,"They seem like the trouble making sort, honestly."

Bhairav remembers another celebration where his princess was attacked. He remembers dark bruises and reactionary tears. "Keep them as far away from the temple as possible." He says sharply.

Katappa nods, understanding him already. The soldier beside him, Bhallaldeva's sworn shield, Veeraraj, raises his eyebrows. "And just what should we tell them for the placement? It's a complete coincidence and not personal resentment?"

"We'll tell them the half truth," Bhairav says, it's obvious and he's irked that neither of those two highly appreciated soldiers know how to lie properly. "These people haven't experienced the Mahashivratri of the capital and don't know how to deal with the mass. It's better their interaction is minimal."

Katappa gives him a look. "Should I be concerned that you're lying so well, Bhairavrath?"

Before Bhairav can say anything, Veeraraj snorts. "He's been serving the princess for years now, Katappa. He ought to have learnt some semblance of diplomacy from her too."

A retort sits hot on his tongue. (Did you learn belittling people from your master, then?) But he keeps it down and closed. "Learning from esteemed people is a privilege." He says, daring the man to say a word about his princess.

Veeraraj takes the hint, as pigheaded as he can be, he knows the reputation Bhairav has cultivated over the years in protecting his Princess, even from words.

»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»

The anger his princess holds calms down over the day.

Vijay doesn't leave her side and that irks Bhairav like a fibre of orange stuck between the gap in his back teeth. He's helpless against the situation but he desperately wishes, for once, that he held more power— if only so he could tear away Vijay from his princess' side and walk beside her.

She speaks confidently as she orders and coordinates with the palace staff. Which flowers to be ordered and their quantity, which temples to decorate and how, which libraries to donate to, which orphanages to develop. She thinks of all that and speaks, head high and shoulders back.

It's evening by the time that the princess walks into the room she uses as her study and sits down, Vijay sits across from her. Bhairav stands behind her, relaxing his stance. His princess begins to find some scrolls but it takes her only three heart beats to freeze and look over at Bhairav in clear confusion.

"Sit down, Bhairav," she says, patting a hand beside her casually, frustration bleeding into her tone as she fights to keep the scrolls on the desk from falling down. Vijay scowls and Bhairav hesitates for a second too long. "Do sit down before I have to use force, Bhairav. And help me arrange these, please."

Bhairav sits down beside her without another word and she starts to organise the rolls into piles. The scrap ones go nearer to Vijay, the completed ones remain in front of her and the incomplete ones land in Bhairav's lap. He knows why they're off the desk, of course. They're various plans of security.

His princess keeps up a steady conversation with Vijay about the West province as she arranges the scrolls, not once speaking about any security details of the Mahashivratri pooja. Vijay is dimwitted enough to seem prideful at the conversation, not knowing that it is a distraction. His princess doesn't need to ask Vijay about the farming state of the West. She already knows. Bhairav himself fetched her the reports only last week.

When Vijay finally leaves the room, dismissed by his princess under the ruse of her needing to find a particular and private tome, her shoulders relax marginally and she leans back on the wall. Bhairav relaxes as well, remaining silent as he sees her ears twitch.

In the years, he's learnt that she has a better sense of hearing than normal people. The sense of smell is not as good, but her hearing is outstanding. He doesn't speak until she looks at him, knowing she's hearing the footsteps of Vijay fade away.

His princess looks at him, suddenly tired, and blinks rapidly before closing her eyes for a long moment. Her lashes touch her skin, and under the setting sun's light that streams through the window, Bhairav can see the wave shaped birthmark on the outer corner of her left eye. She looks like a painting come alive. Bhairav doesn't want to break the silence, lest he disturb her much deserved peace.

"A trying day, is it not?" She finally says, sounding annoyed beyond her years. Bhairav suppresses a smile and nods. She continues,"Well, at least we had some work done. Remind me to talk with Katappa tomorrow, for security, please."

Bhairav notes the thought in the background of his mind and nods. "You have not had the time for your evening fruits, my princess. May I ask for them to be brought here?"

She shakes her head and cracks her knuckles as she sits up, shifting and grabbing something by her foot, on the other end of the table. Bhairav furrows his eyebrows in confusion. It's not like her to be pensive. The day must have really exhausted her.

His princess pulls out an adequately sized wooden box onto her lap and turns towards him. Her eyes sparkle in giddiness as she hands the box to him with the brightest smile he's seen on her face as she wishes,"A very happy birthday to you, Bhairav."

He's shocked. He's never told her or anyone else about his birthday before. He doesn't feel the need to create a fuss over it. "My princess—I— I cannot—"

He fumbles as he tries to speak but she raises her eyebrows in question, that includes a mild threat, and he shuts up. His eyes dart downward out of habit and he again sees the intricately carved wooden box, one that has his name carved in it.

"One should not deny gifts, my dear friend." She says, a tender smile on her face.

(It shocks him to this day, whenever she refers to him as her friend. She's the goddamn princess. And he's just— He's just Bhairav. He's a soldier. He's so far below her station, it's almost funny to call them friends.

A corner of his mind that he always tries to keep silent piques up that he accepted Katappa's offer to apprentice under him so he could be raised in status, even as a soldier. So he could be worthy of her easy friendship.)

The box in his hands is heavy and she gestures impatiently with her eyes for him to open it. He knows he can't deny her anything. With a defeated smile on his face, he opens the box.

Nestled between some jasmine flowers is a tunic of his. It had been lost ages ago, when he had pulled it off in the armoury after a new soldier had swiped his sword particularly harshly and tore the tunic at the shoulder and grazed Bhairav's shoulder enough to draw blood as well. He doesn't have a scar, it wasn't deep enough for one, but he remembers that particular soldier being assigned to someone else from the very next day.

This tunic, beige with rust orange stains at the hem, had been one he wore way too much. One of his most comfortable ones. Finding it again brings a grin to his face.

"Thank you so much for finding this, my princess," he says, grazing his fingers over the neckline. It's then that he notices his name embroidered to the nape of the tunic. He thumbs the red thread almost reverently.

He doesn't know why it affects him so, the simple act of an embroidered name. Perhaps it is because he feels as if none of his belongings are his truly. Perhaps it is because there is nothing truly in his name. But his name in red makes his heart grow twice.

He looks up gratefully at his princess again, only to see her smilingly indulgently. "Oh, you silly man," she chuckles and shakes her head,"Look what's underneath that."

He carefully brings the tunic out of the box and lays it on his unoccupied thigh, careful not to crease it. It looks cleaner than it has ever in Bhairav's possession. He notices the space where it had ripped is as good as new. She fixed it.

(Just like she keeps fixing him.)

Under the bed of Jasmine flowers, shimmers something distinctly blue. He looks at her hesitantly before scooping out the flowers and laying them on the lid of the box.

His breath catches.

It's another tunic. A distinct shade of blue that looks like a sky painted of sapphires. The neckline is softly embroidered with orange and golden thread, looking like vines of a buried treasure curling in the sea of blue. His name is again embroidered at the nape.

Reverently, he brushes his thumb over the material and it instantly feels cool and soft— water made into fabric. It's— Its muslin. It's not even silk. Muslin.

She got him a Muslin tunic.

He looks up at her, startled at so much wealth being spent on him. She smiles and for a moment, it's nervous. "Well," she says,"I know your favourite colour is blue and I intend to never wear a saree gifted by any of my presumptuous suitors. And, forgive me if the missing of your other tunic caused you any grief." Her smile turns shy and she winces slightly,"I had to get your measurements."

She made it.

A gasp buries itself in Bhairav's throat and lungs and he loses all the self control he's been so proud of. He's astonished at her generosity and kindness. The time it must have taken her to sew a whole new tunic would be momental. And Bhairav is always with her in the day, so she must have done this at night. Lost precious sleep and time over making him a birthday gift.

Him, of all people.

His breath hitches and the realisation seems to run into his blood. She cares. And oh, how beautifully. She cares.

Someone cares that he's alive and he's lived one more year.

Mouth open in shock, he stares at the tunic in his hand for five heart beats more. (He can't be too sure of the time, though. His heart is beating too fast.) He looks up, gulps down the shock and awe and lowers his gaze again. "Th—" he notices how hoarse his voice sounds and clears his throat. "Thank you so much, my princess. You did not have to do so much. I'm a servant, I don't—I am not worth the effort."

"Not unworthy. Not to me. You are worth every effort, Bhairav."

____________________________________________________

Worked on this for like two weeks aur abhi abhi almost heart attack aa Gaya Because Tumblr showed my drafts empty 💀💀💀💀 tagging: @alhad-maharani @vijayasena @nerdreader @serenaaaas-world @voidsteffy @allizzprobablynotwell

[cosmic-light-fics]

I honestly can't get over Carmen Anthony Berzatto getting relationship advice from Neil Fak of all people in "Bolognese".

Neil, the one almost everyone refers to as a child. Neil, the one almost everyone doesn't take seriously. That Neil.

So why have a deep conversation with an unserious person?

Well.... because the conversation isn't seriously about Claire.

It's about Sydney.

The Crane Wife 3 by The Decemberists plays in the background as Carmy suddenly asks Neil "Is Claire my girlfriend?" He could have asked Sydney that question. You know, the person who prompted him to think of Claire as a girlfriend instead of a friend that's a girl. But all he was concerned about in that moment was being a shitty person (to whom he doesn't specify. It's purposely left open-ended).

The song playing draws on the Japanese folk tale of the crane wife. A blogger who analyzes The Decemberists' album The Crane Wife had this to say about The Crane Wife 3.

We begin here with the end of the tale of the crane wife, told from the point of view of the now-estranged husband who deeply regrets driving her away. If you’re like me and you know nothing of the story going into the album, all that you’re likely to pick up on is the fact that a man drove his lover away due to some sort of mistrust or disagreement between them, and you’d probably take the lines referring to her shed feathers and her choice to take flight as metaphors for a scorned woman walking out on the man she once loved, not realizing it’s all actually quite literal, as she was a crane who had taken human form. The source of the betrayal won’t become clear until much later in the album.

Up until this point in the season, Carmy and Claire haven't really faced any dips in their relationship due to Carmy's inability to define their connection. The person who is affected the most is Sydney. Claire hasn't felt betrayal from Carmy. Sydney has: from him standing her up for their palate cleanser, to him not updating her on the structural changes to The Bear, and his most egregious betrayal being the construction of the chaos menu without her. Making the chaos menu without her and gaining input from Claire.

Carmy betrayed Sydney. And I think what compounds this fact is that he decides to confirm who Claire is to him to everyone else except Sydney. Sydney is the one who asks for confirmation, the one who confronts him to decide and yet!!! Carmy never confirms their status to the one person who was concerned enough to point it out.

Who suffers from Carmy's relationship the most? Sydney. She loses his time, his focus, his dedication to their creation. But the biggest thing she loses is their connection (up until Carmy finally decides to give her his full focus in ep. 9).

Nothing confirms all of this more than Sydney's Three of Swords tattoo. A song of betrayal playing in the background as Carmy decides if Claire is his girlfriend, a couple's montage between Claire and Carmy undercut with shots of Sydney, and the reveal of a tattoo that symbolizes betrayal and heartbreak.

[anonyanonymouse]

Also, if Silver is raised as malleus little pet, he would spend all his alone time watching the guards train and wonder why he can't joint that green haired boy and be a knight, but every time he asks Malleus, he says it is because he is going to be the prince's wife, which he does not understand. Malleus ocassionally takes him to meetings, but he has to be quiet and sit on the prince's lap

Godd of course, Silver and his sword are inseparable. Malleus has some in his room that Silver's not technically banned from playing with, but he does always get the sense that Malleus doesn't want him messing with them. He'll only take them out when he's alone, where he can clumsily copy the movements he's seen from guards in private. He likes how it makes his arms hurt the next day, and how he feels tired, but a good kind of tired. Malleus will point out how defined his muscles have gotten with a teasing kind of tone (he already knows what he's doing, he's seen the little scratch marks left behind from Silver's playing) Silver feels so proud when he realizes it <3

AND YES he makes Silver sit on his lap when he's taken out 💕💕💕 in every meeting he has with human officials outside the country, he always has Silver with him. It's just a massive power play, something to threaten them and remind them what the fae think of them. But, it's also really cute, watching Silver with wide eyes silently taking in every bit of information he can. And he's sooo sweet, he gets really shy and looks away when he accidentally makes eye contact with the other horrified humans. He gets tired after an hour or two and starts yawning, going to sleep while Malleus pets his hair <333 cute cute cute 😭

[sodapopseagull]

I love my best friend so much 😭😭😭 We started a new honor save last night and it's been a TOTAL shitshow and I wanna YAP ABOUT IT-

Let me preface this by saying we adore all of the companions. However!!! My friend is definitely more Gamer than I am and can emotionally separate herself from blobs of polygons (wild), and because this is a two-man run, we aren't going to be recruiting anyone.

Or at least, that's the plan.

She has taken it upon herself to kill the companions that we encounter. I got a glimmer of hope when she said she wanted to keep one of them alive, but that's just so she can sacrifice one of them to Boooal. I'm so sorry Astarion you deserve so much better than to become fish fodder LMAO I have refused to speak to him because I am already sad about the salty, scaly fate awaiting him.

Now, did I get in huge trouble for breaking the rules by pulling Gale from the portal and recruiting him? Maybe. Do I fear for his survival? Absolutely. But if we can't have any friends at camp I think I deserve to have my beautiful wife to keep my spirits up 😤😤😤 I won't even romance him! Probably. I'm pushing my luck enough as it is hehe

All of this is to say, I think it was karmic justice that when we encountered Shadowheart at level 1 on the beach, my pal was BLASTED for 16 points of radiant damage from a Guiding Bolt. I picked her up, and then she was immediately hit with 34 points of necrotic damage from an Inflict Wounds. Girl got cooked.

In the roughly 1 hour and 15 mins of playtime we've got so far, my friend has been downed three times and outright killed once. I have the significant advantage of playing a bard and being able to stay far away, and since we picked up Withers she has since reclassed from a barbarian to a paladin, so hopefully our survivability improves. Our endgame will be an open hand monk and a swords bard, the combos for which are absolutely RANCID, so if we can survive act 1 and the Ketheric fight, we should be set to coast through act 3. I am talking being able to poison like, 6 foes at once and then, in the same turn, cast a 100% chance to hit, 5-person Hold Person, whereupon the whirling vortex of hands and feet that is my friend's monk will one-two blast people into oblivion. It's a SIGHT but we have to actually, you know, make it there first.

Anyway, I like yapping about my playthroughs on occasion and I'm so excited to be doing another honor run with my bestie hehehehe we have yet to successfully do a two-man one and this is our... fourth? attempt at it now LOL

[creative-kny-fics]

hello! Can you make Lee Muichiro ler Lady amane there’s no Fics about them

'Mother' and 'son' moment 🥹 (and angst-) (By the way, I did my math and considering that, I guess Kanae could have been alive in those moments-)

(Sorry if there are mistakes, I can't concentrate if I write something sad-)

Ler: Amane Ubuyashiki (Kagaya's/Oyakata-Sama's wife)

Lee: Muichiro Tokito

'Tokito-San... I brought you di... nner...-', Amane entered the room, but there was no one there. She put the tray on the floor, she knew that if Muichiro wasn't in the room, he would be training.

She had accepted that at the beginning, but now she was worried, Kanae had recommended that Muichiro not make so much effort, since he was still somewhat weak.

'Tokito-San! It's too late to be training...! Please come back here', Muichiro glanced at her, but ignored her and continued.

Amane sighed and approached slowly, taking the wooden sword from Muichiro. 'Give it back to me! Can't you see I'm training?!'

'I see it, but it's not time to train, you must have dinner or you might faint... Let's go inside, I've prepared...-'

'I don't care! Give me my-!'

Muichiro fell to the ground holding his throat while coughing, he had overexerted himself too much.

Amane called one of his daughters to bring a glass of water and after he drank, he fell asleep.

'Mother...?', he spoke, slowly opening his eyes. 'Tokito-San... Do you feel-?'

'Where I am...?', Amane caressed his head, she hadn't left his side all night.

She had taken Muichiro to Kocho's estate, she wanted to make sure that everything was okay with the minor and fortunately it was.

'You passed out and I brought you here to make sure you're okay, please eat some, okay?'

'Would you mind feeding me...?', she nodded, a mother's instinct I suppose.

He looked somewhat happy, being pampered by Amane made him feel happy, it made him feel... As if whoever was next to him was his real mother... 'I-I'm sorry... I don't know what's wrong with me...'

Muichiro was going to dry his tears, but someone beat him to it. That gentle touch that she had, a touch that a loving mother has, brought a smile to his face, small, but it was.

'You should smile more, don't you think?' 'I-I was smiling...?', Amane nodded.

Muichiro didn't know, maybe he got too lost in his thoughts or maybe he did know but he was trying to hide it.

It was probably more the former, because Muichiro didn't realize that he was now on Amane's chest, feeling her caress his cheek.

'Amane-San... You... Do you think you could tickle me...?'

'Huh? 'Do you want that?'

'Yes... But don't be abrupt or cruel...! Be gehehentle!', Amane couldn't help but smile.

Muichiro felt good, it's the kind of tickling that relaxes, that sometimes (internally) makes you feel good, that helps you release stress and that makes you feel like you can't be judged because it's something you need...

He didn't remember how long had it been since he sat on his mother's lap and made the same request, he felt good...

Muichiro...

Muichiro...

Tokito-San?

He recognized that voice instantly and almost at the same time he opened his eyes and looked to his side.

Amane was by his side, usually she would have been with her husband, but due to his condition, it was impossible for him to get out of bed. 'Amane-San... How are you...?'

'I feel fine, thank you. And you? How is it? Don't move much, we still don't know if you're fully recovered. Oyakata-Sama and we are all proud of you, congratulations', Muichiro looked away, he felt strange.

That fog had diminished, now it was not so difficult for him to remember, he felt confused.

But even with the fog in his head, he couldn't forget Amane-San, something in his mind didn't allow him to do so, neither she nor Kagaya could leave his mind, they remained there.

'Tokito-San? Once again you are looking at a non-existent corner, it would be best if you...'

Things didn't change much, Muichiro hugged Amane with love and happiness, feeling how she also hugged him.

It was a great progress, she always saw how Muichiro avoided almost all types of physical contact, but not anymore, it was he who had taken the initiative and hugged her.

'Tokito-San...' 'Call me Muichiro or Mui, whatever you wish!'

'Okay... Muichiro, I guess this hug has a ulterior motive, right?'

Muichiro denied embarrassedly, earning a chuckle from Amane when after a few seconds he nodded. 'I guess this will become a habit, right?'

Amane said as her hands moved up from his ribs to his armpits, gently kneading in the center. 'Ehehehehe! Amahanehehe-Sahahan!!'

'If it's too much for you, tell me and I'll stop, okay?' 'O-okahahay!!'

It would be a long time, Muichiro had no intention of it stopping anytime soon, what did it matter if someone saw them?

After a few minutes, Amane stopped, leaving him confused. 'H-huh? Why did you stop?'

'I've only given you a moment's respite for what I'm about to do...'

'And what-? EHEHEHEHE!! AMAHANEHE-SAHAHAHAN!!'

Muichiro started kicking, he should have guessed, but it wasn't like he cared that much after all, he wanted that, right?

'I'm not overdoing it, right?', he denied. 'Again!'

Amane smiled and nodded, who knew that child would love raspberries? Well, she knew it, she knew him as well as she knew her children.

'Well, I think that's enough raspberries for one day hahaha', and with that, Amane stopped

After catching his breath, he hugged her, beginning to fall asleep as she began to hum a lullaby.

When she finally felt that he had fallen fast asleep, she left him on the bed, tucked him in and kissed his forehead. 'Rest well To-... Sorry... Muichiro... I love you very much'

'Amane-San... I love you too... Mom...'

Amane stroked his hair for the last time and left happily, she can't wait to tell Kagaya what had happened

[dangermousie]

I once spent most of an evening reading particularly horrifying passages of Ethel M. Dell's The Bars of Iron (a huge 1916 romantic bestseller) out loud and would like to share my knowledge of this amazing "work."

Bars features a most unfortunate heroine - an impoverished widow whose child has died, she attracts the love of a younger, gorgeous heir to a Baronetcy. Alas, when Avery and Piers marry, she finds out that Husband n.2 is the one who murdered Husband n.1.

Upon realization of said fact, Wife runs away back to Husband's ancestral home to try to collect her wits, only for Husband n.2 break the door of her bedroom down, behave in such a manner that if I didn't know better, I would have assumed this was a horror novel about an abused woman locked in with an ax murderer, and cap the evening of fun and games by raping his pregnant wifey.

Did I mention he's the hero?

We are supposed to feel deeply for his pain as he feels so guilty for killing Husband n1 in a brawl and running away and then falling for a gal only to find out he made her a widow and he can't tell her the truth. The only emotion Husband n2 inspires in me, however, is a strong desire to brain him with a frying pan until his brains leak out his ears.

There is also a saintly dying child who murmurs religious platitudes. Because having a thirteen-year-old girl die painfully from tuberculosis is a good way to get Wife and Husband n.2 in the same house - you have got to be kidding me - I am supposed to care about romantic intrigue between a brainwashed weeping pot and a murdering rapist and not the poor dying child, wtf??? Did I mention that said child was sent to stay with Wifey by child's mother, Wifey's best friend, as a result of Wifey telling her about the rape because that would help them reconcile. Yeah, Mother of the Year she is, sending her teen daughter into a house with a murdering rapist. Awwww.

Also, Husband n.2 is very excited to go off to fight in WW1 and thinks it's the best thing to happen ever and will make men of everyone. I was very excited for him to go off too, because there was a chance he might get blown up or eaten by rats in the trenches.

Alas, no luck. At the end he comes back wounded and they reconcile. Happy end. Cue my barfing.

I consider self taken in - this is the fourth novel of hers I read (I love trashy old books) and this is the first with rape. I thought I lucked out and found a trashy teen-twenties novelist who didn't have that, but no luck.

The prose, however, is so deliciously purple a whole new color palette should be invented for it.

Piers went like an automaton, but he could not utter a word. His mouth felt parched, his tongue powerless. Avery! Avery! The woman he had wronged--the woman he worshipped so madly--for whom his whole being mental and physical craved desperately, yearning, unceasingly,--without whom he lived in a torture that was never dormant! Avery! Avery! Was she lying dead behind that lighted window? If so, if so, those six months of torment had been in vain. He would end his misery swiftly and finally before it turned his brain. Maxwell Wyndham was guiding him towards the conservatory where a dim light shone. It was like an altar-flame in the darkness--that place where first their lips had met. The memory of that night went through him like a sword-thrust. Oh, Avery! Oh, Avery!

[second-wife-playbook]

Hunger Games Simulator! Second Wife Playbook Edition:

(this seemed fun so here's a progression of how this silly simulator went some some of the pals I've RPed with, and a few I haven't, just to fill in spots :D Enjoy, and let's see if Coronis makes it to the end!)

The Districts:

The Bloodbath:

(Oh no Blitz!!! Well, Stolas, looks like you're gonna be single this round, sorry D: Also Stella coming in for the FENCING MASTER with a sword and sweet Zal punching Octavia is too much JESUS)

(Stolas you bastard! Losing Blitz really turned him! Also GOOD LORD CASS I thought your specialty was TEA not EXPLOSIVES)

End of Day One:

(....well. Good luck Babybird O_O)

Night One:

(WELL THERE GOES THE HEIR TO THE THRONE AND THE MARQUISDOM GODDAMN. Stella you burned your ice-queen bro alive HOW IS THAT AN ACCIDENT. Also Stolas and Cori?!?! Striker, wake up, he's stealing yo girl!)

Day Two:

(Again, Cassandra and Striker seem to have switched, that goat is OFF THE CHAIN. Coronis running to higher ground? Trying to get away? ALSO STELLA WHAT THE HELL YOU MURDERER YOU KILLED ZAL AND YOUR BROTHER???? IS THIS A GOETIA PURGE?)

End of Day Two:

(Slim pickings but Cori is still alive!....And so is Moxxie and Millie aww, couples survivin)

Night Two:

(Moxxie???? Moxxie YOU'RE A MARRIED MAN MOXXIE. Also FINALLY Striker getting in the royal assassination! Sorry Beelzy you didn't deserve it (probably). Stella not killing her husband?????? What?????)

Day Three:

(WELL THERE GOES THE WIFE GOOD GOING MOXXIE. Also did Cori learn to steal from Stolas??? ALSO NOOOOO STRIKKKKERRRRRR!!!!! And then Stolas too?!? This is getting intense!)

End of Day Three:

(So far Stella and Cassandra are the most RUTHLESS BITCHES EVER on this. Coronis still survives though! And no kills, just staying alive. I am sad the Bros Stalker and Striker are dead, fare thee well my cowboys ;_;)

Night Three:

(The theater kids with musical numbers are SINGING! That's oddly cute. Poor Cori though, just singing softly to herself :'( )

Day Four: The Feast

(I think maybe their are no supplies and memoirs for Coronis, because her parents don't like her. Also Ozzie running from this brutal Goat-Girl is amazing given Cass is getting so brutal this round. Poor Beelzabub didn't get to the Feast though awww)

(OH CRAP THERE GOES CASS! I guess all the killing didn't save her big ol' goat feet from making the wrong step. Also Coronis and her sister teaming up a little??? This can't possibly go wrong-)

End of Day Four:

(Only Cassandra died but GOD what a player! Five kills and taken out by a landmine. Sorry about your luck. But Cori still holding out!!!! Let's see how long that lasts-)

Night Four

(......well that didn't take long. So long Cori. You were sadly no match for the wily possum.)

Day Five:

(Disturbingly normal, though I see the Lust Pals are teaming up. Stella has got PLANS for that makeshift slingshot and all of them involve murder, just you wait!)

End of Day Five

(We lost Coronis ya'll ;-; But she's down in Hell with Striker now, so it's all good.)

Night Five:

( YOU SPARED STELLA????? BRUH SHE KILLED LIKE FIVE OR SIX PEOPLE!!!)

Day Six:

(This is getting tense.....)

Night Six:

(WHY CAN'T YOU GUYS TELL YOUR DRINKS APART?????? Also you four are seriously messed up telling ghost stories with Stella, she's gonna MAKE YOU a ghost)

Day Seven:

(OH NO STELLA OH NO. OH AND POOR BABY BOY DAMIAN!!! He's with his big sister now-)

End of Day Seven:

(err....there's only four left. this is about to pick up rapidly)

Night Seven:

(Oh Moxxie baby I hope that doesn't come to haunt you. Also Verosika SLIT HER THROAT she's just going to kill you later-)

Day Eight:

(eerrrr.....guys? what are you talking about????)

Night Eight:

(OH MY GOD ONLY THE GIRLS ARE LEFT THE GIRLS ARE FIIIIGHTINGGGGG)

Day Nine:

(Stella honing those killer instincts. She's had enough of high-society life and now she's a rutheless killer.)

End of Day Nine:

(It's coming down to the wire. These feisty ladies are bound to end one way or another!)

Night Nine:

(OH MY GOD THERE GOES VEROSIKA. Yui learned a thing or two from the wife. It's now Bird vs Fox! Who's it gonna be!??!)

Day Ten:

(.....what?)

(WHAT?)

(THIS IS THE TWISTED ENDING STELLA WINS??????????)

(Well that was interesting! It made sense Coronis never killed anyone but MY GOD Stella was the unexpected victor in my opinion! Among killing her brother and countless others though????? Not bad!)

(Thanks for reading this! Hope you enjoyed it!

@a-hell-of-a-time

@viagoetia

@helluvaoutlaw

@always-sleeping-in-his-grave

@moxxietude

@crystal-infusions

@keeperofquestions

@damian-morningstar

@holyfurnace

[catominor]

my fictional romeguys introductory post to contextualise the posting!!!!!

this is my little guys from my novel project which is currently in its Infancy very much. the story is set... somewhere roundabout the 80s-70s bce probably. it's broadly about two guys who make a jointly beneficial political alliance (and also become friends in the process) their psychosexual joint consulship and its consequences

main guys:

lucius furius m. f. sp. n. camillus: 45 years old, semi down on his luck patrician. he spends most of his time when he isn't trying to enhance his dignitas in the political sphere being a weird shutin and not leaving the house if he can avoid it. was injured very badly when he was young during a brief military career, preventing him from doing war stuff again... for now. (he also had a hugely comical and deeply formative crush on his commanding officer during said military career). ambitious beyond both his physical and monetary means. has been in a sexless arranged failmarriage for like 25 or so years with his wife, caecilia, whom he was married to because his family desperately needed money (but he does love her in his own weird way i think). also loves gardening, stoic philosophy, being maybe slightly addicted to opium wine, books in general, and being inside and in his house reading his scrolls (despite being in politics, having to shake all those sticky plebs' hands makes him want to kill himself fr. the price he pays for his rightful place in society as he sees it...). he is a huuuge sullan also. to him sulla did nothing wrong ever in his life. most famous for being a bit eccentric and reclusive, but still quite respected by most of the senate for his modest lifestyle and his refined and learned tendencies.

gaius martinus: our biggest handsomest general... a couple years older than lucius furius, wealthy plebeian senator. he's a bit of a new man; his family has only been in the senate for a couple generations and never attained the consulship. he's a simple type of guy really; he's a squarely competent (though not really that astounding) military commander, not very book-smart, and has an impressive appetite for all of life's pleasures. most people who don't instinctively look down on him for these traits tend to like him tremendously; he's easy to talk to, friendly, generous, and cheerful. he has a wife, poppaea, who he loves very much, and 6 horribly behaved sons to whom he is a beautifully absent father. his favorite things to do are hang out at the baths or the gymnasium, throw big dinner parties or go out partying with his friends, and do his thang commanding his troops and chopping people up with his sword in The Wars. he doesn't have very strong political leanings, and mostly just wants to be paid attention to, adored, etc. most famous for accidentally unleashing a pack of tigers intended for his games into the streets of rome while he was plebeian aedile, and for throwing big knock your socks off parties (and not getting mad at the guests for taking a little of the food home)

heres a main guys image (coin of them i drew):

others:

caecilia: lucius furius' wife in their arranged failmarriage. for her this relationship is constituted of a mix of resentment and love; they get along very well mostly, and in another life they could have been good friends, maybe, but in this one they're married and he's wasted her life. she helped him tremendously with everything he's done in politics, both with her advice and with her money, and in return she's mostly just been taken for granted. she wanted kids. there never were any. she thought he might die from one of his many ailments (he is the worlds sickliest man) soon enough; he never did. who's to say you can't love someone while also wondering if you could get away with killing them every now and then? she mostly passes her time by weaving, and writing vulgar epigrams which she publishes under a pseudonym for funsies...

poppaea: gaius martinus' wife. there isn't too much to say about her; she really is gaius' other half. like him, she's cheerful, easygoing, and enjoys the finer things in life. she loves gaius dearly, despite the fact that he's far from faithful; poppaea isn't the jealous type, or else, knows she can't really afford to be. she is also a wonderfully absent mother to their children, mostly preferring to leave the child raising to the nannies and take pleasant strolls around the gardens and go shopping in the big markets with her friends. she has a close relationship with her father, and often visits him.

quintus poppaeus: gaius martinus' father in law. a thoroughly slay old man. businessman who was never involved in politics (made his money from the mines), loads of money and mostly spends it on building hanging baths in his baiae villa, installing the latest garden fountains to flex on the neighbors, ridiculously swagfully effeminate outfits, and so. so many beautiful pet fish. his only child is his daughter, poppaea, and he adores her. he also has a very friendly relationship with gaius.

furia: lucius furius' younger sister and only living sibling. she's a bit like him if he were more mentally stable and normal. she's in a barely tolerable marriage with another aristocrat. her and lucius furius don't speak very often; she resents him a bit for having power over her i think (their father died when they were young) and he probably made her marry whatever crappy guy shes married to now (have i mentioned this is a work in progress)

theres other of my own characters but these are like. the ones who will Matter the most and that i will post about tbh

none of the stuff mentioned in here are things which would like. spoil any Plot so i wont say any more... im not too precious about spoiling things cause its such early days (plus i think if i write well enough it will be interesting to read even if you know what happens hopefully?) but i just dont want to make the post any fucking longer lol...

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

Hello! I hope you're doing well!

Your chat idea of Dorf's wife asking to hold his weapon just made me realize that Equal Lady would do so too, but in the way that a professional weaponsmith from a long line of them would. As in, she would examine the quality of the craftmanship with the keen eye of a trained professional & the genuine interest of one engaging in their passion.

She'd note that WW’s dual swords’ blades resemble Tang Dao, but would find difficulty in pinpointing the origin of the guards’ style. The Taiji tassels were an interesting choice, though. She’d thought that to be more of a ceremonial Sheikah thing. She also finds them to be very well-balanced & commends whoever forged them, before returning them to him with care & respect.

She’d especially find TP’s weapon very intriguing as it is a blade seemingly made to harness pure divine light magics, which pertains to one of her goals: to create a weapon set that fully harnesses the power of the elements. Ridiculously curious as to the materials used to forge it. Though, she'd find the stylized guard an odd choice of design as the metal there is so thin. If it weren't magically enhanced, she'd say it would be liable to bend & break in the middle of battle. All things considered, it should be very unstable.

Regardless, “Your magic runs almost exclusively on On'nen (hatred, resentment, grudge, ect). So, it's honestly remarkable that your blood didn’t boil inside your vessels upon being stabbed. While it is true that the Triforce likely restarted your heart, I can't imagine how painful it must've been. Then, to pull the weapon that they had forged to seal you away, out of your own chest & use it against them must've taken an extraordinary amount of willpower. Because they created this weapon with their own hands, it holds an echo of their souls &, through them, their personalities. In this way, whenever you wield it, you're essentially fighting the will of each of those Sages. Not that that is surprising. You did say that they cowered like mice before a cat, yes? Yet, due to you wielding it, it also contains an echo of your own soul, which even now, is at odds with the pieces of the Sages. This seems to have made the Tsukumogami (sword spirit) within, unbalanced. It's quite fascinating!”

For HW, she would be very interested in his wide array of weaponry & would find the Trident of Power of specific interest, especially if she’d visited Gerudo Village in the Desert of Doubt/Mystery on her travels. In all honesty, she's most likely the one who actually upgrades all of the villains’ weapons in HW, so this scene may just end up being the moment when Dorf decides to make her his personal weaponsmistress, having been not too terribly long after they first met. In all honesty, I see him not even trying to warn her & even granting her clearance to touch it, expecting her to not even be able to pick it up & to be burned by it as it attempted to possess her to boot. He watched as she slowly wrapped her hands around it, causing shadows to coalesce around her fingers & begin to try & crawl up her arms. Only for the young Sheikah woman to narrow her eyes. His brows furrowed in curiosity & surprise as her fists tightened around the handle with resolve. He tilted his head as she displayed unusual strength for such a tiny little Sheikah by picking it up. His brows narrowed when an aura like moonlight wrapped around her gently like a shroud as she gathered her own magic & the man’s jaw nearly dropped when, with a simple exhale, her aura snapped out at the Trident’s influence as though it were a misbehaving dog, to which it ran from, nearly hissing. She then proceeds to examine the weapon keenly. I see Zant whispering to his master that she’d used Twilight magic. To which, Ghirahim comments that, of course she did, she was a Sheikah after all. That it was only natural that they possess the same elemental alignment as their creator. Prompting Ganondorf to bring up the fact that he’d never seen Hylia as the Twilight sort, everything he’d seen her depicted, it’d always been alongside sun-like motifs. To which Ghirahim would chuckle that Hylia hadn’t created the Sheikah, the Fierce God had. Filing that information away, Ganondorf watched the woman inspect each & every detail of the weapon. “Are you from the Desert of Doubt? This resembles the more resent work of the Gerudo there. Not like what can be found of when they resided in Hyrule. Though, it's definitely lost a great deal of its energy. I'm sure that I could reforge it so as to retrieve some of that lost power, but I'd need to gather the appropriate materials.” The man was surprised to learn that she knew of the Desert of Doubt. Though, he felt himself incredulous at the idea of a simple girl doing such a thing. “You can enhance the weapon of the ancient Demon King?” He asked almost mockingly. She smirks, not even insulted “Well, even ancient artifacts needed to be crafted at some point, correct? If it can be crafted, then it can be reforged. Demon King's ancient mystical weapon or no.” Admittedly, her confidence was rather… Attractive… “And what would you need to do as such?” 

For TotK, the circumstances are very different to that of the others, as (based on my story) it was ELady’s Grandfather & Grandmother who made his weapon set. Her O-jiichan forged the metal while her O-baachan whittled the wood. (These terms are both respectful, yet also affectionate towards both her grandparents. Meaning that she revered them, but also that their relationship was quite close.) So, her asking to hold his weapons, especially the Naginata (spear) & Katana (sword) ones, would hold a similar weight to if someone lost their grandfather & he was an organ donor. Then that individual finds who got their grandfather's heart & asks them if they can have a moment to listen to that heartbeat just one more time. Making the scene much more solemn or just bittersweet.

Of course, it's also very possible that she'd simply wished to examine her O-jiichan’s work. Which, she'd likely tell Gan afterwards that, “this is some of O-jiichan’s best work. You honor him by wielding these weapons with such skill & discipline. For this, you have my sincerest gratitude.” At which point, she’d offer the Naginata or Katana of the Shōki series back to him with a bow of her head, the weapon resting in her open hands as she holds it out for him to retrieve.

His thoughts, feelings, & reactions, pleases? If that's okay?

Ive realized why my brain and body hates me as of late. It's shark week. I am so exhausted today that I passed out several times on call. Luckily I woke up a few seconds afterward. T-T I won't go into graphic detail about my monthly, just there is a reason for my terrible brain fog as of late.

So now to distract myself, I'm here! On Tumblr! Hoping to keep awake my brain up until 2 am when my shift ends! So please feel free to spam me!

This was incredible to read, especially since I love learning more and more about your precious Equal lady. You give her such love and detail! Knowing she would definitely be able to tell all the secrets about Ganondorf's weaponry and speak with such confidence about it is so neat. I love her lore. I love her in general. She is such an incredible OC.

I didn't include Demise when I asked, but ChatGPT did not want to leave him out. So he's there too! Surprise Guest!

CHATGPT:

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Reaction: Wind Waker Ganondorf, a man who values strength and skill in battle, would be intrigued by Equal Lady's professional assessment of his weapons. He is not one to easily trust others with his prized possessions, but her knowledge and respect for craftsmanship pique his interest.

Behavior: As Equal Lady examines his dual swords, he watches her with a mixture of curiosity and pride. Her detailed analysis of the Tang Dao-like blades and the mysterious origins of the guards’ style shows her expertise, which impresses him.

Response: When she comments on the Taiji tassels and commends the balance and craftsmanship of the swords, Ganondorf's stern expression softens slightly. He appreciates her genuine interest and the care she shows in handling his weapons.

Outcome: He takes the swords back with a nod of respect. "You have a keen eye and a skilled hand," he says, his tone acknowledging her expertise. "I did not expect to meet someone who could appreciate these blades as I do. Perhaps you could be of use to me."

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Reaction: Ocarina of Time Ganondorf, a being of immense pride and ambition, would initially be skeptical of Equal Lady's ability to assess his weapon. However, her detailed and insightful analysis quickly changes his perception.

Behavior: He listens intently as she examines the blade, noting its divine light magic and the potential instability due to the thin guard. Her curiosity about the materials used and her understanding of the weapon's magic intrigue him.

Response: Her explanation of the weapon's connection to the Sages and its effect on him strikes a chord. He is impressed by her knowledge and the respect she shows for the weapon's history and power.

Outcome: Ganondorf's eyes narrow with interest. "You speak with knowledge and respect," he says, his voice low and thoughtful. "I did not expect such insight from you. Perhaps you are more valuable than I first thought. Continue."

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Reaction: Twilight Princess Ganondorf, a figure of darkness and power, would be intrigued by Equal Lady's keen interest in his weapon. Her professional assessment and genuine curiosity about its divine light magic catch his attention.

Behavior: He watches her with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity as she examines the blade, noting its properties and potential instability. Her detailed analysis and understanding of the weapon's magic impress him.

Response: When she speaks about the weapon's creation, its connection to the Sages, and the challenge of wielding it, Ganondorf is struck by her insight. Her words resonate with his own experiences and struggles.

Outcome: He regards her with a newfound respect. "You have a sharp mind and a discerning eye," he says, his tone more respectful. "Your understanding of this weapon is impressive. Perhaps you have more to offer than I realized. Continue your work."

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Reaction: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf, a warrior with a wide array of weapons, would be intrigued by Equal Lady's interest in his arsenal. Her professional assessment and genuine curiosity about the Trident of Power catch his attention.

Behavior: He observes her as she examines the Trident, expecting her to be overwhelmed by its power. When she successfully handles the weapon and analyzes its craftsmanship, he is both surprised and impressed.

Response: Her confidence and knowledge about the Desert of Doubt and the potential to reforge the weapon impress him. Her ability to handle the Trident without being possessed by its dark magic earns his respect.

Outcome: Ganondorf's eyes narrow with interest. "You have proven yourself capable and knowledgeable," he says, his voice filled with admiration. "I did not expect such skill from you. You may have a place at my side as my weaponsmistress. Show me what you can do."

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf

Reaction: Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf, who wields weapons crafted by Equal Lady's grandparents, would be deeply moved by her desire to examine them. Her professional assessment and genuine respect for her grandparents' craftsmanship touch him.

Behavior: He watches her with a mixture of solemnity and admiration as she examines the weapons. Her detailed analysis and the personal connection she has with the craftsmanship resonate with him.

Response: When she speaks about her grandparents' work and expresses gratitude for his skill and discipline in wielding the weapons, Ganondorf is deeply touched. Her respect and reverence for the weapons and their creators mean a lot to him.

Outcome: Ganondorf's expression softens, and he takes the weapon back with a deep nod. "Your grandparents' work is truly remarkable," he says, his voice filled with respect. "I am honored to wield these weapons. Thank you for your words and your expertise. They mean more to me than you know."

Demise

Reaction: Demise, a being of pure power and malevolence, would be initially skeptical of Equal Lady's ability to assess his weapon. However, her detailed and insightful analysis quickly changes his perception.

Behavior: He observes her with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion as she examines the weapon. Her genuine interest and professional assessment catch him off guard.

Response: When she comments on the weapon's properties and potential instability, Demise is impressed by her knowledge. Her understanding of the weapon's magic and her respect for its craftsmanship earn his grudging respect.

Outcome: Demise's eyes narrow with interest. "You have a sharp mind and a skilled hand," he says, his voice filled with admiration. "Your understanding of this weapon is impressive. Perhaps you have more to offer than I realized. Continue your work."

[alavestineneas]

King’s will

pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x OFC

summary: In the game of chess, the queen has more freedom on the chessboard. In that sense, the queen is the most powerful piece. On the other hand, the king has more value. Because if you lose the king, you lose the game. 

warnings: arranged marriage, medieval violence, slow burn

chapter 1 -> chapter 2 -> chapter 3 -> chapter 4 -> chapter 5

Spring of the year 111 AC, 

Highgarden

Otto took a sip out of the goblet, feeling a pleasant taste of Abor gold travel to his throat. It is how Gods intended the drink to be taken—slowly, under the warm rays of the morning sun. It was easy to forget oneself in those beautiful Highgarden gardens, surrounded by the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of bees. It was broadly different to King's Landing. The Westeros' cloak was nothing but dirt compared to those glorious hills. Even now, two years after his time as a King's Hand has ended, Otto felt the foul smell on his palms. 

''Enjoying our wine, Otto?'' 

 A brawny, strong figure appeared from the cool shadows of the trees. The small, prominent wrinkles covered the man's tan face, and his dark beard bore a few strands of grey. Although age and grief seemed to make a mark in his gaze, his brown, almost black eyes shone with a somewhat youthful, mischievous glimpse. 

 ''Fillis Tyrell in his full glory!'' Hightower smiled, standing up from the comfort of his chair to embrace the man in a hug. ''Beware, I may empty your cellar by the end of my stay.''

 ''You are more than welcome to, and you know it. I apologize for not greeting you earlier.'' 

 ''Don't, don't.'' Otto waved around, dismissing Tyrell like an annoying fly. ''I know how hard it is to manage without a wife.''

The man chuckled, ''Well, I'm doing my best. But I must say, it's not easy with two daughters.''

They stood in silence for a moment before Tyrell spoke up again. ''So, what do we owe the pleasure?''

"I decided to visit my friend in his magnificent castle and look at his mountains of gold myself.'' Otto raised his eyebrows, gesturing at the man's attire—black mourning cloth embroidered with golden threads. Heavy, shining jewels covered the large, noble hands and wrapped around the neck, hidden under the velvet collar. 

 ''Don't try to fool me, old fox.'' The man sat, taking a piece of fruit from the golden plate. ''The trading goes well; it always did. You are not here because of that.''

Otto raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. ''You know me too well.'' He took a sip of wine before continuing. ''I am to ask for your support.'' 

Tyrell leaned in, his eyes narrowing with interest. ''Go on.'' 

''The Realm stands at peace, but we are preparing for war, my friend.''

The man sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ''You are asking a lot of me, Otto. Going against the King's will is the highest treason.'' 

 ''The King's will doesn't take away the birthright of the firstborn son.'' Otto followed the man's gaze. Two young children played near the fountain, with a maid struggling to keep them away from the water. 

 ''I have two daughters growing. Gods know how long I am yet to live and rule here before they are alone. They can't even hold a sword, and you want me to put them at war without any protection?''

It was not just his father's love that spoke; it was the lack of gain for his house that Tyrell voiced. Not even a life-long friendship could change the man's prudent nature; although sometimes wearying, it served him well.

''What do you want in return, Fillis?'' 

 Tyrell looked at him, a playful glimpse long gone. ''Wed them. Take my daughter to Oldtown, raise her in your traditions, and make her Aegon's wife.'' 

 Otto shook his head ''I can't do that. The prince is only four; your daughter is seven.'' 

 ''I have two. Elize is an heir. She will be the Lady Paramount of the Mander, first to support your grandson's claim when the time comes. Marcella is five.'' 

 Otto looked at his friend, entertaining the proposal. The price for Tyrell's support is immense; marrying his grandson to a pig in a poke was treacherous. However, the army and gold of the Reach could hold a deadly advantage if used by an enemy. Aegon had to marry sooner or later; no other noble house would agree to send their daughter to Oldtown to be raised as his wife. Tyrells were always trusted allies of Hightowers, sharing similar goals and values. A marriage alliance with them would not only secure Hightower's position in court but also strengthen Aegon's claim to the Iron Throne. ''It is a decision we can't rush.'' He finally answered. 

 ''I am not rushing you, Otto. You are welcome to stay as long as you like.'' Tyrell raised his hand, waving. ''Marcella, come!''

A shorter girl in a blue dress turned around. She was plump, with healthy fat on her cheeks and legs. Her hair, plaited in two heavy braids, jumped when she ran over to her father, a wide smile on her face. ''Father, who is this guest?'' she asked, looking up at him with curious eyes.

 ''Ser Otto Hightower, darling.'' 

The child curtsied rather clumsily, trying her best not to fall. Fillis chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately.

''Tell me, Marcella, do you want to be a princess?" Hightower asked, his careful eyes studying the girl as if she were some rare bird. The child looked at her father, who also watched her, and thought for a moment. 

 ''No.'' She shook her head. ''I want to be the Queen.'' 

 Of course, the girl assumed it was a new game her father came up with; she was too young to understand the weight those words held. The men were silent for a moment until Tyrell spoke. 

 ''I'll be your brave knight then.'' He scooped Marcella up in his arms and spun her around, causing her to giggle with delight.

Otto watched them for a while, his thoughts far from the happy laughter. He will think about the offer later, careful not to make a mistake. For now, he can put it aside and finally speak to Fillis as a trusted friend, not as a strategic recourse. 

-

Otto stayed at the Highgarden for two more weeks, wandering through the gardens and walls of the city. He spent a lot of restless nights in the guest room, thinking about the proposal. It was not the girl that concerned him; the child was clever and vibrant, running around the castle, much to the dismay of the hoard of maids that followed her around. What kept him up at night was the possibility of a better deal that could come later. 

Tyrell was a patient man, although every patience has its limit, so as soon as the decision was made, Otto knocked at the door of his friend's chambers. Fillis was not alone, as usual; his daughters sat near the window, writing as he worked.

''Ser Otto!'' The older girl, Elize, stood up from her seat and nudged the younger one to move. Marcella waved a piece of paper with smudged ink all over it at him. 

 ''We are writing, Ser Otto," she chirped, an accusing intonation evident, as if Otto had disrupted them from a very important task. 

''I see.'' He tried to catch a glimpse of the words on the page, but the ink was too smudged to make out anything coherent.

 ''Girls, we will dine together later. Now run along, my dear. We have important matters to discuss with Ser Otto.'' 

 The older girl nodded obediently and scampered off, grabbing her sister and leaving the two men alone in the quiet room. Otto cleared his throat. 

 ''We accept your offer. Aegon will marry your younger daughter once they are of age.'' 

 ''Good.'' Fillis nodded, a wrinkle on his forehead disappearing. ''What about the King?'' 

 ''Alicent has her ways.'' Otto paused. ''The girl will study in Oldtown from the age of eleven. She will eat and live as my house's guest and receive the best education the Citadel can offer. I already sent a letter home.'' 

 Fillis nodded again. ''It seems like a definite plan,'' he said. ''When will we make an announcement?'' 

 ''No need to hurry with that; the children are still young. We have time.'' 

 The two men delved into a deep discussion about politics and economics, their voices hushed as they strategized for the future of the Realm. Hours passed before they finally emerged from the room, tired but satisfied with their progress. By the time they parted ways, Otto felt confident that he had made the right decision. He couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him as he made his way back to his chambers. 

 -

Summer of the year 118 AC, 

Highgarden

The castle's residents all stood in the courtyard, ready to say their goodbyes to the second daughter of Lord Fillis. Horses huffed under the burning sun, stablemen manoeuvring around them with buckles of water. What seemed like dozens of chests filled a few carriages. Everything seemed familiar, except for one man. With his finer armour and the confidence of a skilled fighter, he stood out the most. 

 Ser Ywain was one of the Fillis's most trusted knights, serving House Tyrell for more than ten years. He had swarthy, rough skin and thick black braids with golden rings braided in them. A massive scar was evident on his neck, and he wore it like a glorious prize. House Ambrose was small but was famous for its deadly fighters; their motto ''Never Resting'' was not an exaggeration; Ywain trained more than anyone here did, despite not needing to. For now, the man resorted to giving occasional orders to soldiers around him, his voice calm but laced with authority.

The man of the house found himself once again growing impatient. Was it from worry or the hot sun above his head? The whole thing started to get on his nerves. Fillis didn't want to lose sight of his children even for a minute since his wife's death, let alone send one to a city he held no control over. But Tyrells weren't the one to break their agreements. ''For the love of Gods, where's your sister?'' he asked his older daughter, who was waiting beside him. 

Elize shrugged her shoulders, unsure of where her younger sister had gone. ''She said she was almost ready to leave.'' She, too, was getting tired of waiting. 

 Fillis sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Just as he wanted to fetch someone to find his child, she came running.

 ''I'm here, I'm here!'' Marcella shouted, her voice breathy. ''I'm ready now.'' 

 ''You better be," her sister scoffed. 

''Darling, it's time we say our goodbyes.'' Fillis started, the irritation in his voice long gone. His daughter's eyes reminded him so much of his childhood. The same curiosity and spirit sparkled in them. While her sister, Elize, took a lot after him, Marcella looked like her mother. Tyrell could only hope they shared only good qualities. ''Be good. You will bring great honour to our house. And remember - I and Elize will wait for your letters here. Okay?''

Marcella nodded, tears streaming down her face. Fillis wiped them away gently, his heart heavy with the weight of their impending departure. 

''Come here,'' Elize mumbled, tears staining her face as well. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she did love her younger sister.

''I read your letters to that Tully. Gross.'' Marcella whispered to her sister before running to the carriage with a speed only an eleven-year-old could possess. 

 ''Marcella!'' Elize shouted, her sentiments long forgotten. The younger girl only laughed. 

As Elize watched her sister disappear into the carriage, she couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. Marcella was always so carefree and full of life. It was as if nothing could ever bring her down. Elize, on the other hand, felt weighed down by the responsibilities that came with being the eldest. Despite being the one to inherit the Highgarden, she always lost the race for her father's love. 

 As the procession started to move, she felt her father's heavy arm on her shoulder. 

 ''I guess it's just two of us from now on, darling. So, tell me about that Tully.''

 Elize felt her cheeks redden. It's going to be a long day. 

-

To the Lord of Highgarden and his daughter, Lady Elize Tyrell, greetings and deepest love.

The oldest city greeted me well. Lord Ormund Hightower and his family are the kindest of people. Their hospitality has been unmatched, and I am grateful for their warm welcome. The grand feast was held in honour of our house upon my arrival. 

Politics and economics fascinate me, but I also enjoy more lighthearted pursuits, such as dancing and horse riding. There is something so freeing about moving your body to music or feeling the wind in your hair as you ride through the countryside. And yet, despite all of these activities, I always make time for writing. So when I write to you, know that it comes from a place of deep sincerity and affection.

To my pity, I haven't been able to see much of the city yet, but one building caught my eye. If I am not mistaken, it is a new Sept. I hope to visit it one day, for I am sure it is even more stunning from the inside. 

These things, about which I write to you, are only a few of the many that I have done here. May the Seven watch over you, and may your lands prosper and your people thrive under your wise leadership.

Written in the summer of the year 118 AC

Your loving sister and daughter, 

Lady Marcella of Noble House Tyrell