#my knight in tailored armor

[fluffylord]

Malcolm Tucker + Mood Face THE THICK OF IT | S03

[akutasoda]

“diamond tiara crushed in two, my heaven crashes down for you”

synopsis - you are a royal, they aren't. would it be such a crime for them to be someone more than a companion of yours?

includes - argenti, aventurine, boothill, sunday, reca

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, i have no clue what im doing, wc - 2.8k

a/n: ngl this only came about cause my fav artist dropped a new single... something else was inspired by that which idk if i want to work on that onrle rrr

argenti ★↷

↪argenti was once the commander of the knights that protected the region. well, he still was but now most of his time was spent beside you. as your very own personal knight.

↪it was agreed very widely that argenti was by far the best knight in the kingdom. so it was inevitable that he ended up in such a trusted position - and it was also safe to say that your safety was pretty much always guaranteed with him around.

↪naturally, he still held his title as the commander but spent most of his days by your side so normally he would put others in charge in his absence. although in honesty, argenti never minded.

↪argenti enjoyed his job as a knight, he liked helping people out and defending the kingdom he was proud to be part of. a part of him enjoyed the serenity of spending his days with you.

↪most of it tailoring to him following you around as you attended meetings and the occasional trips to the town. and even argenti had a bit more freedom as you always let him do what he wanted but even willingly, argenti would happily spend time with you.

– – –

you walked idly through the corridors, you had nothing to do as of late. bored out of your mind. your only real idea was to head out to the town and see if they had anything to satisfy your boredom, although to do so you thought it may be best to find argenti first.

you knew where to find him however. if you were going out you wanted him to accompany you, not just as your guard but as a companion - you didn't really need a guard in your opinion. but you quickly found the knight in the training grounds.

he was very dedicated to his training. it was always intriguing to you when you did catch him in action - in training or in a real life scenario. so you couldn't exactly help but take a seat nearby and watch as he trained.

you weren't trying to be creepy but it was interesting, and rather entrancing, so you watched. although you should've expected argenti to notice your presence as soon as you sat down. he huffed as he stopped swinging his ornate spear, stabilizing himself, he stopped and turned to you with a smile.

“is there something you need your highness?” argenti slowly walked closer to you and quickly noticed the flushed expression on your face at being caught.

you tried stammering out a response but quickly gave up and broke eye contact looking at the ground. argenti let out a small laugh, “if there's something you require of me, please do let me know”

eventually you managed to piece together a coherent sentence and explained how you wanted to go visit the town for a bit. argenti agreed, like he would ever not agree, and excused himself for a moment to get ready and don his armor.

argenti always loved when he got to accompany you anywhere. your presence was such a joy for him and a selfish part of him enjoyed knowing that he spent the most time with him - argenti knew you enjoyed his presence as well which always made his heart soar.

but he was merely your personal knight. he should be glad to be granted such a title, but when you take him by the hand and lead him to wherever you wanted with that smile on your face, he could convince himself that for a fleeting moment, you two were something more.

aventurine ★↷

↪a diplomatic representative of the stoneheart group who spent their time negotiating and delivering messages between various kingdoms. a neutral group who maintained positive relationships with all kingdoms to survive.

↪aventurine was always responsible for being sent to your kingdom, and so he would always make an appearance when your council met to discuss. a part of you was curious if he'd ever drop his position among the stonehearts to become a permanent member of your council.

↪he always had very valuable insights that always seemed to work towards bettering your kingdom as a whole rather than helping the relationship between the kingdom and the stonehearts. he also spent a decent amount of time rilling up your actual council members.

↪although, nowadays you noticed how he made more frequent visits to your kingdom, and specifically you. aventurine would occasionally come and find you just to drag you away from your duties and hang out - something you never actually minded, even if you should've..

– – –

aventurine walked through the lone halls of your residence, he found it almost laughable how easily the guards let him in, how much they trusted him. he could easily walk in with the wrong intentions and dismantle your kingdom from the inside out but you both knew he wouldn't. which was why he was here now.

bursting through your room's doors, you shot up from your paperwork before relaxing at the sight of the emissarie.

“hello to you too aventurine,” you briefly glanced over to your calendar “what are you doing here? seeing as we have no meetings…”

aventurine smiled as he sat himself on the corner of your desk “do i have to have a reason to see you?” he knew he didn't, he knew you'd always welcome his presence at any time.

“you know you don't want to be stuck here doing..” he looked at what was laid across your desk, making a vague shrugging motion “whatever that is, take a break! we can walk around for a bit!”

you knew you shouldn't listen to him, that he was a bad influence on you. but one look at your desk was enough to convince you that aventurine was right. you'd have even more work to do when you got back but who was going to tell you off? aventurine was definitely one of your best “advisors”.

he smiled when he watched you stand up and he followed suit, already talking about all the things that had happened since he last saw you (which was barely two days) and asking you about what you wanted to do.

suddenly your boring day filled with paperwork was actually going to be exciting, spent with someone you liked as more than one of your emissaries.

boothill ★↷

↪apart of a group of mercenaries known as the galaxy rangers. they take up whatever contract they agree with and pay the most of course. the “galaxy ranger” name is simply a convenient way of finding the best mercenaries in the regions - whether or not someone can get one to work for them is a different story.

↪boothill was once hired by a rivaling kingdom to bring down yours, he didn't exactly agree with his contractor but they did have rather deep pockets. that hesitation of his was what you used to save your kingdom. paying boothill more than what he had previously been offered.

↪and what better way to ensure your kingdom's safety than to constantly ensure boothill worked as a mercenary for your kingdom by paying him. it was a simple solution in your eyes and boothill wasn't going to complain.

↪although as time went on, boothill was seen less as a mercenary and more as a companion - seeing as you spent quite a bit of your free time talking with him and listening to his takes from traveling all over.

– – –

“so tell me again why i’m accompanying ya?” boothill poised as he watched you eye up some shop window displays

you hummed “because i gave argenti the day off for his hard work” turning to face him you continued, “and your nice company”

nice company huh? boothill would've never considered himself to be nice company for anyone but he wasn't going to argue your word. it wasn't entirely uncommon for you to drag him around the town when you were bored, always giving that same excuse or saying something along the lines of being blunt and just wanting to hang out.

boothill would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy this time with you. it was always peaceful, a nice respite from his daily activities - which admittedly became more calm themselves ever since you began paying him to be loyal to your kingdom.

even if you were to stop paying him, he reckoned that he would still never go against your kingdom. there was something about you that was enchanting to the mercenary, no wonder you were royalty. he could spend ages thinking about you, he had no clue why however.

boothill had no idea why he felt this way about you. you were just another stupid royal who was too big for their boots. and yet, he stuck around. he indulged in your conversations and requests, he genuinely enjoyed being around you and-

“say, why don't we stop for lunch on the way back?” your voice broke his chain of thought and that smile of yours practically rendered him entranced

“sure, your choice, your highness” and he reveled in your brightening smile that was caused by him, the one that made his knees weak and he couldn't care less about how you grabbed his hand and practically dragged him away.

sunday ★↷

↪the oh so prestigious high priest of the land. the one in charge of all the churches and so he had a spot on the royal council. not only as the main representative of the churches but also as an advisor.

↪he was a form of spokesperson for the people who confided their issues with him and some of his ideas had helped the kingdom greatly, so he definitely deserved a seat among your council

↪sunday was very reliable. he would always show up to meetings and always ensured that services within the church were planned and carried out to the nest they could be. a man devoted to fulfilling his role. although with how long you'd known him, he had a few flaws.

↪namely his “people problem”. not that he despised anyone but at times he could be quite uptight and rather condescending - namely when discussing with your other advisors which made for quite the trouble occasionally.

↪but you valued his advice and so he kept his position. although you also highly valued his companionship, something he would deny of but secretly indulge in your favoritism of him - like a bird preening in front of a mirror.

– – –

service had finished mere moments ago. sunday sighed and closed up his book as he kept an eye on the last couple stragglers exiting the sermon.

so he couldn't exactly miss the line figure that walked down the aisle to his position. in honesty, even if he did miss it then sunday would know it was you, after all you had developed the rather neglectful habit of visiting him after his services - neglectful as you were obviously shrugging away duties to be here.

his face resumed his stern look that he usually held before he addressed you “your highness, you know you mustn't be here”

but you both knew that even if he sounded annoyed he wasn't. you knew that he enjoyed your clear favoritism to the priest but he cared too much about appearances and positions to let it shine through, in your opinion.

“i don't think i do” you responded, sunday quickly picked up on that playful tone of yours, he knew what he was in for “would you mind enlightening me priest?”

oh aeons how he hated that dumb smile of yours. that stupidly pretty smile that made his heart skip a few beats. no, he couldn't let you break his act down so quickly, that would be embarrassing for him. so he collected himself and answered

“considering i enlightened you yesterday, i have no need to repeat. or is your memory that bad? if so i feel a trip to your healer is necessary then?” when he heard you grumble, he knew he'd managed to save his facade.

this wasn't exactly the first, or even the last, time that you slinked away to spend time with him when he had nothing going on. but you were the monarch. you had duties to attend to and so despite his true wishes of wanting this time with you, he always urged you to go back to your duties.

“fine then” you huffed “i'll be seeing you tomorrow then”

turning on your heel, you began leaving with a stumped sunday who was wracking his brain for any idea of what you meant behind you. but he couldn't think, so he had to ask

“what's tomorrow?” sunday hadn't got anything planned with you tomorrow, yes he had other things but nothing that you should've been aware of

you stopped in your tracks and turned around, feigning shock and hurt, you gasped “don't tell me you forgot! the meeting tomorrow?”

sunday paused, “but that's the day after, no? we agreed so at the last meet”

as soon as that smile of yours widened, it all clicked together in his head “oh it is? my.. well i already have a cleared schedule for that time.. wouldn't want to waste it?”

turning around again you continued, “so ill be seeing you at noon then” before walking away once more

sunday stood in confusion for a moment and before realizing fully and blurting out “you-” but you were already out of earshot, also missing the smile that crept onto his face.

reca ★↷

↪an infamous playwright who recently had taken residence in your kingdom. his plays were known far and wide by everyone, highly praised and honored. people always eagerly awaited even a whisper of what his new creation was.

↪and so naturally, you had become a patron of his. always sponsoring his plays as you were quite the fan yourself. whenever you saw that he had a new play that was being performed, you immediately cleared your schedule for that time and got your ticket - they were always in high demand.

↪reca was faltered that royalty such as yourself was so deeply invested in his writings and he greatly appreciated the sponsorship, it enabled his plays to reach greater heights. and so it was only natural that he started pandering some of his plays to you.

↪more based around subjects that he learnt you loved, your favorite troupes, anything you deemed intriguing and so on. of course, they all came out as hit plays but he knew they were slightly more special than just his average play.

– – –

reca stood from the sideline, hidden behind a deep maroon curtain, as his latest play came to an end. he watched as the actors he so desperately searched for took a bow as gifts were showered upon them for his characters he created for them.

but nowadays, he cared less about audience validation and more about a specific person - yes he still valued the opinion of anyone that saw his plays as that's what kept him going mostly but this play was special. he spent ages driving himself into sleep deprivation and stress trying to perfect it.

all because he tailored it for you.

his number one, and favorite, patron. he'd seen you take your seat and eagerly awaited your critique for his piece. reca wouldn't mind if you didn't pick up on the hints that it was tailored towards you, just as long as you enjoyed it. and his question was soon answered.

reca's ears perked up when he heard your voice call out to him. you shouldn't be backstage, but nobody would stop you. a confident smirk graced his face when you immediately starting rambling about specifics of his play, what you liked the most, how well it flowed etc etc.

he took your praise in strides, even more so when you poised him a question.

“oh! mr reca, you must tell me how you got inspiration for the main character!” you seemed so happy and so rene's smirked widened

“well if you must know your highness, it was about a special patron of mine” reca watched as your face twisted into something akin to confusion as you tried to figure out what that meant.

he nearly laughed when your expression portrayed a more shocked and embarrassed tone, you tried stammering out a sentence “so what about their lover-”

“well a writer must take some creative liberty, no? and one's subconscious might influence those decisions” he held back a laugh as your face flushed.

“your a tease mr reca” you huffed. and he only smiled back as you too let a smile creep onto your face.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[mydadleft471]

A Brief Respite

Summary: Something is bothering Messmer. Even if you can't fix what's wrong, you can show him how much you care for him.

Spoilers for both Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. No warnings, just tooth-rotting fluff for my favorite boi.

MESSMER LOVERS, I AM BACK!!!

Sorry for the radio silence! I was on vacation (which was so nice btw) and I got back and hammered this baby out! I missed writing for Messmer sm. Anywho, thank you to the genius @manitscold for the idea for this fic! If there's any other ideas for fics, please let me know!

Please enjoy and realize that ye olde English is a pain in the ass.

You awake early in the morning to sunlight streaming in through your window.

You rub your eyes and clumsily push the plush red comforter embroidered with Messmer’s insignia back and ease out of your bed. Per usual, the servants at the Shadow Keep had catered to your every need, and your breakfast was already sitting on the table in your quarters. You truly believe you get better service than Messmer himself.

He had always treated you well even before he began courting you, but now, he showers you with the finest gifts he can find. Beautiful embroidered dresses, specifically tailored for you, flawless gemstones, rich wines, and sturdy armor sets were all left for you in your private quarters. You live quite comfortably here.

He has also ensured your protection. His most trusted guards stand watch outside your quarters, day and night, and you are allowed to carry your weapon freely around the castle. You don’t really need your weapon much, as Messmer prefers to personally guard you whenever possible. You have never felt more safe. His presence is comforting and warm.

Lately, though, you haven’t seen him as much. Perhaps a battle went horribly wrong, or he’s sick. You don’t know, but whenever he is around, he seems like something is troubling him. He doesn’t speak as often and he remains closed-off, even from you.

You were, hopefully, going to remedy that today. You requested various flowers, bath salts, and oils from Castle Ensis, and they had finally arrived. You were going to make him relax, no matter what. 

Dressed in a fine dress made of red velvet with glimmering gold accents and with a satchel filled to the brim with salts, petals, and soaps, you begin to make your way to Messmer’s chamber. Servants bow their heads in reverence to you as you pass, and you greet two Fire Knights as you approach Messmer’s door. Not unusual, but today they’re standing directly in front of the door rather than off to the sides.

“Good morning. I wish to see Lord Messmer.” 

The right guard bows his head and replies solemnly. “My Lady, Sir Messmer has requested to not be bothered.”

“Even if it’s me?” You quirk your brow upwards and place a hand on your hip.

“Well… I suppose he wouldn’t bar you from entering. Apologies, My Lady.” You hear a wavering fear in his voice. Perhaps he realizes that keeping his Lord from you would be a terrible idea.

Stepping aside, they push open the solid metal doors and bow their heads as you pass. Being the Lady of the castle certainly had its perks.

The heavy doors shut with a heavy thump behind you and you proceed into the darkened room. There are a few candles lit around the chamber. You hear thundering footsteps from behind the throne at the front of the room. You wonder if you should’ve left him alone.

“I requested to be left well alone. Secluded from all.” His low, authoritative voice echoes across the stone walls. You see one of his snakes poke its head out from the darkness and you straighten your posture.

Messmer comes out from behind the large throne and hurries towards you, steps light yet graceful, befitting a demigod. He grabs your hand and inspects you for injuries.

“My darling, whatever is the matter? Has something happened?” His features soften and butterflies erupt in your stomach from his gentle touch.

“Nothing has happened. Everything is alright, love.” You reach your hand up towards his cheek to cradle it and he lowers himself to allow you to. You notice that the dark circles underneath his eyes have grown heavier and he looks weary. “Are you alright, Messmer?”

The question takes him aback. He shoots you a weak smile and gently kisses your palm. “Yes, my darling. It has been a rather vexing week, nothing more. Thou must not worry about such matters; I will attend to them.”

You know he is lying. Something has happened, but why would he be worried to open up to you? He has been forthcoming about his mother and his crusade in her name, so what could possibly make him think he can’t talk to you?

“Love, I’m here for you. I know something is bothering you.” He looks away from you, head bowed down. You make him look at you, and he meets your soft gaze with hesitation. “You do not have to bear everything by yourself, you know. Please let me help you.”

He sighs and grabs your hands with his much larger ones. “A sweeter companion I could never hope to have. But some burdens are mine to bear as they are mine own sins.”

“Are you thinking about the war?”

“Yes. The blood I have spilled would paint this castle ruby, inside and out. And yet, it is Mother’s will. Her vengeance has become mine own flesh.” He sounds conflicted, like he knows what is right and wrong, and yet, he can’t bring himself to stray from the path his Mother set him on. He pulls his hands away from yours, scared he will taint your innocence with his touch.

“I’m not scared of you.” His eye gleams bright gold at your words.

“Perhaps not now. But, should we have met before, my visage would haunt thy very nightmares.” His snakes gently coil around him more, as if comforting him. You long to do the same. To take all his pain and make it vanish into thin air.

But you cannot do that.

“I have a surprise for you.” You break the haunting silence and interrupt his spiraling train of thought.

“What is it?” He sounds exhausted.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?” You shoot him a playful smile, and he returns it with a much weaker one. You take his hand and begin to lead him back to his chambers behind his towering throne. Slowly, you make your way to the back of his room where a large marble tub sits vacant. 

“So… there’s really no better way to say this, but I need you to strip and get in the bath for me.” Heat rushes to your cheeks. You dare to look up at him. His gaze shifts between the tub and you rapidly, and his face matches his hair.

“Only if you want to! If this makes you uncomfortable, we can forget this ever happened. I got fancy bath salts and soaps from Castle Ensis to help you relax.” You open your satchel and show him the various bottles and wrapped packages you brought with you.

“Thou hast done this… to offer me a respite?”

“You’ve seemed preoccupied lately. A nice bath always helps me clear my mind and rest.” You give him a bashful smile. His eye is wide and his face is twisted in confusion.

“Thou does not wish for me to disrobe for thy own pleasure?” 

You think you’re going to die before this conversation is over.

“No! I just want you to get in the bath and relax!” You take a second to breathe and quiet your voice. You don’t want him to think that you want him just for sex. “I can wash your hair if you’d like.” 

“I’d like that.” You barely hear his response over your rapid heartbeat.

“Okay.”

You begin to run the water, making sure it’s warm, but not hot. You sprinkle in some lavender and rose petals and throw in some sweet-smelling salts for good measure. Messmer watches you with a curious eye. His snakes do the same. They flick their tongues and turn their heads side-to-side.

Once the tub is filled, the room smells fantastic. You set your satchel to the side and fetch him a soft towel and his favorite red silk robe. You set everything within arms reach.

“Okay, I’ve got everything set up. So I’ll, uh, step out for a few minutes. Just call me back when you’re ready.”

He nods at you and you make your way out of his chambers. Shutting the heavy door behind you, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Hopefully, this will help him relax and take his mind off of fighting a war he wasn’t meant to wage. You know you aren’t able to take away the horrible memories of hundreds of years of war, but you can help him forget, even if for a moment.

“I am ready.” His voice interrupts your thoughts. You take a deep breath and step back inside. Peeking around the corner, you see him sitting perfectly straight in the tub with his back to you, his snakes curiously peering over his shoulder for your return.

You sit on the edge of the bath and gently place a hand on his back, careful of where his snakes have torn through his skin. “How do you feel? Is the water okay?”

“I am… nervous. But the water is quite nice.”

“Why are you nervous, my love?” You rub soothing circles into his back.

“No one has ever seen me like this. Exposed.”

“I can leave if I’m making you uncomfortable.” You begin to stand up, but he grabs your wrist.

“Thy presence is never unwelcome. I am just not used to this. Thy touch. Thy care.” He lets go of your wrist.

“You deserve love and care, Messmer.” 

“Perhaps.”

“You do.” You lean down to wrap your arms around him, but he stops you.

“Thy dress. I do not wish for you to ruin it because of me.”

“Oh hush. Have you seen the amount of dresses in my wardrobe? Now lean your head back.”

He does as you ask and you see the worry in his eye. As gently as you can, you pour water over his head and smooth his hair down. You reach over and grab some shampoo and begin to massage it into his scalp. His eye flutters closed at the sensation of your nails scratching against his scalp and he shudders.

“Are you alright? Do you need me to stop?”

“No. This is wonderful.” You laugh and keep going. Your hands are comically small compared to his head, so it takes you quite some time to make sure all of his hair is covered. Not that you mind, however, when the slightest touch leaves him in such a state of relaxation.

Once again, you pour water over his hair and wash away the sweet shampoo. You ensure no suds get into his eye.

He has allowed you to move him how you please and you’re touched by how much he trusts you. Grabbing some conditioner, you run it through his hair and rub it into his scalp. Once again, he shudders and his breathing slows. He’s enjoying this.

“You’re very pretty, my love.” You see his cheeks redden and he opens his mouth to protest, but you scratch his scalp with both hands and he falls silent immediately. The next time he goes to rebuke something you say, you’ll just do this. You’ll never be wrong again.

Washing the conditioner out of his hair, you also notice that his snakes seem to be enjoying this. They watch you with content looks on their faces, tongues flicking out happily. You rinse your hands off and reach out to pet them. They nuzzle approvingly into your palm.

“They adore you, darling.” He gives you a loving smile.

“More than you do?” 

“An impossible feat.” The snakes hiss out in disagreement and you laugh. 

“Would you like me to let you get out?” You feel the water and frown as it’s beginning to get a little cold.

“Perhaps. I do rather enjoy this.”

“I’ll brush your hair when you’re dressed. How does that sound?”

“Marvelous. Thy surprise continues to enchant me.”

“Good.” You kiss him on the cheek and rise from where you were sitting. You move the towel and his robe closer to him at the edge of the tub, and leave his chambers again. You make a mental note to add the salts, soaps, and flowers to the supply list from Castle Ensis permanently. Perhaps this could be a weekly thing for him. You’d do it as often as it took for him to look so relaxed again.

The large door opens and Messmer greets you with a smile. He looks decades younger. His red hair dangles around his face, droplets of water kissing his skin and rolling down his neck. His red robe hugs his frame nicely. 

He holds out his hand and you take it wordlessly. He shuts the doors with a flick of his wrist and guides you over to his large bed. You notice that his hairbrush is already on the comforter. He sits down on the edge of the bed and you shuffle your way behind him.

“Ready?” You don’t need to ask, but you do.

“Yes. I do not know how this will go. Mine hair is… unruly.”

“Then I’ll just have to brush it everyday.”

“You spoil me, darling.”

“As do you. Now hold still, and tell me if anything hurts.”

You test the waters by running your fingers through his hair, and he wasn’t lying. His hair is rather tangled and will take some work to get straight. You silently curse your lover for not taking better care of himself, and get to work. You start with the ends of his hair and brush out the small knots at the bottom as carefully as you can. Eventually, with some work, the hair obeys and flows down his back as it’s supposed to. 

You take a second to check on Messmer. He’s been silent the whole time and you want to make sure he’s enjoying this. Your worries are short lived, however, when you see his eye closed and his face relaxed. His mouth is slightly open and his breathing is even.

“Is something the matter?” He asks you, still with his eye closed.

“Just making sure you’re alright, love.”

“With thee, I am blissfully content.”

“Please keep that in mind as I work through these tangles.” He laughs and shakes his head at your antics.

“I shall. I will repeat it as a mantra for thine efforts.” 

You give him a small peck on the cheek and return to your work. You begin to move up to the hair beneath his neck and slowly brush at any tangles you find. With some persistence, his hair is soft and silky once again. You notice one of his snakes out of the corner of your eye watching your gentle movements. The other is happily splayed on the comforter.

Slowly, you make your way to his scalp, and within a half hour, you have his fiery hair running in gentle waves down his shoulders. Putting the brush down, you use your fingers to sweep through his hair for any stubborn tangles, but you don’t find any. Satisfied, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and lay your head against his neck.

“I’m tired now.” Your remark makes him chuckle and wrap his hand around one of yours.

“I have no doubt.” He leans his head against yours and sighs. “This was a most pleasant surprise, my darling. I thank thee for this.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do for you.”

He untangles himself from you and gently pulls you down onto the soft bed beside him. You tuck yourself into his side and yawn.

“There are days I find myself believing that I do not deserve thee. This is yet another one of those days.”

You kiss the back of his hand and shake your head. “You deserve all of this and more.”

“Perhaps.” He pulls you closer to him. His skin is smooth and smells like lavender. “Sleep, my beloved.”

“It’s not even time for dinner.”

“You would disobey your Lord?” He taunts you playfully.

“No, I would not.” You snort.

“I shall wake thee for dinner.” 

“You’re going to fall asleep with me.”

He relaxes into the cushions and pillows beneath him and kisses your forehead. “I do not hear thee complaining.”

“I’m not. I want to stay here forever with you.”

You’re beginning to slip into slumber. You let your eyes flutter closed and snuggle into Messmer’s side. He gently pulls a blanket over you and tucks you in as best he can.

“As do I, my beloved.”

“I love you, Messmer.”

Before you completely succumb to sleep, you hear his quiet reply.

“And I thee, my sweet consort.”

[sepulchralblues]

@jilymicrofics A My Lady Jane AU for Jily in august - elegant, bride, knight, royalty, soulmate

“I didn’t ask to be his bride, Petunia.” Lily wanted to tear her hair out its elegant crown-braid, half out of frustration, half to piss her sister off further. “Just because I’m going through with this doesn’t mean I want to be stuck in a loveless marriage with some doddering old fool I’ve never even met before.”

She stood before a large mirror, edges gilded a brown that once used to be gold, in a floor length wedding dress. If she held any care for the day itself, she’d notice the gown was rather stunning, a similar fashion to the royal wedding gown from last season. Instead, she was spending the morning of her wedding like any other day growing up with her darling dear sister – arguing.

“You could at least try to appreciate the effort Vernon’s parents put into securing this match for you,” Petunia returned with venom. “You’re nearly five and twenty summers old, Lily. You’re practically a spinster. After Mother died last year, you weren’t able to secure any prospects for yourself. Without Vernon stepping in, who knows what state you'd be in a year’s time from now.”

Anywhere but here sounded absolutely lovely to Lily at the moment, but she refrained from antagonizing Petunia anymore.

Lily sighed and turned away from the mirror. She waved off the handmaiden who stepped out of the shadows to help her down from the platform the tailor had her stand on for the final fitting of the gown. 

Stepping closer to her sister, Lily said softly, “Understand that I am only doing this for the sake of my inheritance. If this stupid clause had not been in the will, I would have taken the money and left for Paris the minute I could get my hands on it.”

Petunia smirked. “Would you have waited for a knight in shining armor to come along before you got married then? Someone who was, perhaps, your soulmate?”

Some childish part of Lily was stung, hearing the dreams she’d once whispered to Petunia under the covers of darkness in their childhood bedroom thrown back in her face so mockingly.

But her sister was not wrong. As stupid as it sounded, Lily had spent her entire life dreaming of a love that felt like an adventure, rather than one built and bred in the stuffy castles and manors they had grown up in. It was the dream that Paris had held, and the hope that had shattered the day their parents will was announced in full.

Neither child would gain access to their portion of the (significantly large) inheritance until after they were married. And they had to be married before the age of twenty-five.

Hence the stalemate the Lily found herself locked in – a marriage to one James Potter in return for her inheritance. She’d wait the minimum period out, call for a divorce, and finally – finally – leave this place for good.

The double doors at the far end of the room burst open before she could reply. It was the Butler.

“My ladies,” he bowed deep, “it is time. The ceremony will begin shortly, and your presence in required in the garden.”

“Well then,” Petunia said. “Off we go, before you change your mind and embarrass our family again.”

Clenching her jaw, Lily followed Petunia out of the room.

–

James ran a finger along his collar in an attempt to find respite from the sweltering heat of the garden. He failed remarkably, but it was yet to be seen whether it was really the summer heat or the prospect of what was to come that was making him sweat.

Sirius Black, his best man and best mate, heard his annoyed huff and chuckled. “Heat of the moment getting to you, Prongsie?”

James ignored the taunt and focused on straightening his cuff links.

While he’d always known the day was coming, he hadn’t quite let himself wonder what it would be like. He’s never been one for stage fright, but they don’t really prepare you to stand in front of a crowd of two hundred-odd nobles and minor royalty to say the most damning two words of your life.

And damning they were, because whoever this Lily Evans was, he doubted she was any match for the girl he’d been eyeing up at the pub last night when out celebrating the last of his bachelorhood with his mates. Or the girl from the week before, her raven hair spread like ink on his bedspread, her moans like ecstasy in his ears. Or even–

The band began its tune, and the guests shuffled to their feet. He shared a final glance with Sirius. It was time.

First came the sister (he thought it was the sister at least), in a gown of deep scarlet with her arm looped around Vernon’s.

Sirius coughed something that sounded like that slug beside him, and James could only agree.

It was when he saw the white gown brushing the navy carpet that James looked at his parents. His mother met his gaze, a grave look on her face.

They couldn’t screw this up, she was trying to say. This was the last chance they had to fix things, their last attempt to root the problem out before it came back to destroy his entire family.

Sirius inhaled sharply, causing James to finally look at his bride for the first time.

Except he’d seen her before. Nine hours before, to be precise, in a badly lit pub, with a glass of ale in his hands and the golden daze of drink highlighting the arch of her eyebrows, her delicate collarbones.

Lily Evans was, in fact, the very girl he’d been flirting with last night.

Judging by the shock that stole across her face and the slightest pause in her steps, his identity was news to her too.

Suddenly everything that had seemed too daunting and painful about this marriage didn’t seem as bleak.

–

Oh, thought Lily. Oh, fuck.

[felassan]

Just poring over some of the new images. ◕‿◕

Docktown, Minrathous (in the daytime, in contrast with the gameplay reveal video), reminding us that Minrathous is built on an island. maybe the magic-monorail-looking bridge here is actually the single bridge that goes to Minrathous, like in the lore?

Docktown is the home of Neve. the distinctive floating building is in the distance again. compared to Ferelden, the buildings in Minrathous are like another planet entirely! Tevene architecture/design is so hostile - spikes on chairs, spikes on the sides of buildings.. I wonder if the doorway here is the entrance to the tavern/bar here [second image]. if you look in the window to the left of the door, the figure on the right could be the 'bouncer' at the top of the steps in the bar image. also, outside of here are tables and barrels, like you might expect outside a tavern establishment.

I'm curious about the heraldry of the boat in the harbor with the blue unfurled flags. it reminds me a bit of this Fereldan heraldry, but the animals are the wrong way round and it isn't quite right. either way, the heraldic animal is also present as the prow of that boat and one other.

Elf Rook (either City or Dalish but without vallaslin applied in CC), Emmrich and Harding. Rook is a sword-and-shield warrior here, Veilguard symbol on their chest plate, Warden symbol on their shield. Maybe this Rook has the Grey Warden background? anyways, looking closely at Rook's chest plate here, with the gray metal armor, the purple Veilguard symbol on the left, the 'bandolier' of three brown leather pouches across their chest, and the diagonal lines on the plate going the other way, it looks like maybe this Rook is wearing the same 'iconic[?] Rook outfit' as in the key art, or at least the torso piece. They both also have the metal shoulder plates, purple fabric over the elbow area, brown leather gauntlet etc. It's just that in this screenshot Rook isn't wearing a helmet/hood (or has them toggled off in the Options menu? ^^). anyways, I love that purple seems to be the 'iconic[?]' color for Rook, and also look at how this long-haired Rook's hair flows and sits around their neck and shoulders! and again the detailing is cool, like scratches on the shield and stuff.

Harding's arrow is glowing. Is her bow or arrow enchanted or have some kind of stat buff, or could this be an example of her magical powers in action, like her tarot card art might suggest? also, we can see from the tall skeleton/undead statues in the background and the skull-lid vases in the foreground that this shot is from the Necropolis.

The groupshot at HQ is so [cat crying screaming].. 🥺🥺 I love it so much, with the round table it has like Knights of the Round Table vibes or something and it's so nice to see everyone together and in their casual outfits too. I hope there are lots of moments like this in the game. ^^ Davrin is whittling wood, something that reminds me of Halsin and my Inquisitor (who is Dalish, and also had that hobby). Did some people.. bring their chair of choice to the meeting room hh? Davrin's looks like it was carved from a tree stump. Harding and Neve have a comfy sofa. Emmrich's looks kind of gothic and Nevarran. Taash's stool [?] is gold and practical-looking.

Taash looks so bored hhh. here we can see Bellara without her magical gauntlet. Do you think Manfred and Assan come to the team meetings..? :D Lucanis has impeccable tailoring, with lil bird-skull looking buttons at his collar. he's buttoned right up and professional looking even in his casual downtime, even when some of the others are the opposite. unsurprisingly his casual clothes have that blue-black corvid feather sheen. surely he has coffee in his mug. ^^ I wonder what Neve's drink of choice is though? from the way Lucanis leans here, do you think Lucanis and Emmrich is one of the companion-companion relationships that might develop like Taash and Harding?

Harding looks so cute and cozy on the couch with the cushion and her slippers, I can't take it. and I really love Neve's casual look with her scarf and hair like that!!

I think this scene is probably from the Lighthouse. Game Informer mentioned that it had a library, which is the central area of the The Lighthouse, and that it's there the party will often regroup and prepare for what’s next. Could this be one of those moments in there? ^^ in the background are stacks of books, and books on shelves, like a library would have. on the table is an assortment of scrolls, maps, papers. you can see a feather quill pen and red wax seals. having the maps in front of Davrin, a Warden and monster-hunter who has probably travelled far and quite a lot, is a nice touch. some of the books look quite ornate and arcane-ish, and are there a few of the 'Bellara'-style triangles on the table as well? and what do you suppose is the blue diamond-looking thing with white veins on the table?

(I'm also curious what the golden thing in the top right is.)

we can tell from the way it looks but we also know from a file name that this is the Rivain Coast. it's beautiful, it looks so bright and hot, the water is so blue. we first saw this locale in the Thedas Calls trailer from Dragon Age Day 2023. again, in the distance, we can see that statue.

From a file name, this is Arlathan Forest. everything is suffused in soft golden light, almost whimsical and Fable-like the Game Informer piece said. this shot is framed with those familiar trees with orange foliage e.g one, two, three. this place reminds me of some of the elvhen ruins we got to see in Trespasser. in the top right is green Veil/Fade shenanigans. a place where the Veil is weak, or the edge of this particular Veil bubble? past the wall of green it looks like some of the buildings are broken thanks to the warping, and there are floating rocks.

and look closely at some of the assets -

there's an owl, which are associated with Falon'Din and Andruil. lots of those howling Fen'Harel wolf statues. they look just like they do in DA:I (I don't mean that they look bad graphically or old or anything, just that the details are the same!!) which is awesome for consistency (also cool to see these return, so many of the art assets in DA:I were rly cool), and might even be the same assets being re-used (which is sensible and sensical for game design, something Mark Darrah talked about before). nb, just in case, I'm not saying this as a comment against asset re-use, it makes sense to do and I was excited to see these DA:I or DA:I-style ones in these caps!

[ragingadhd]

The funny thing to me about Horace as a character is just how well he fits the whole knight thing. I like to play with this modern AU idea in my head, and all of the characters can translate so well into a modern setting. Except Horace. And that’s not because he lacks character, nay, on the contrary. His character is simply so perfectly tailored to being a medieval knight that I struggle to picture him not in a suit of armor. And it’s insane bc he’s not some knight stereotype, that man right there is Horace Altman and he is the Oakleaf Knight. Nothing more to it. That’s it.

[typewriting-robin]

Promises You Can Keep

Jude/Robin OC (M x F)

Rating: T

In which Jude meets his match with a kind, sweet, and clumsy Robin who is tasked with shadowing him for her reports. She can't figure him out to save her life.//Noncanon, pre-relationship

cw: Jude being a serious pain in the ass, blood mention, canon-typical violence

Word count: 6371

note~ it is recommended but not required to read the OC/MC master list and scroll to the secod-to-bottom for Christabelle, the Robin that corresponds to Jude.

“Once upon a time there lived a beautiful princess…” she began as she was surrounded by the children of the priory, who kept begging her to tell her a story. She momentarily wondered if this counted as a lie but it was supposed to be fiction anyway. “Okay maybe she wasn't quite beautiful nor was she a princess. A viscount's daughter, yes?” She said as the children giggled around her. “Well once upon a time there lived a viscount's daughter. Her mother passed when she was but a baby and her father soon grew ill. Now living in squalor, her eldest sister works as a Tailor's apprentice while attempting to become a lady in waiting for the princess and her brother, a soldier stationed in India. But still there were too many mouths to feed.”

The children were enraptured but she knew it was time to switch gears. The story was too autobiographical so now it was time to create some fiction, even though she has no idea where her story would go. “The viscount's youngest daughter, afraid there were too many mouths to feed, left home, knowing her family would never ascend back into nobility and joined a convent. One day, she went out to run an errand and that's when a rather errant knight spotted her as she made her way across the city.” She really had no idea where she was going as she paused for effect. “He had followed her home, telling her that he required a spot of tea and the company of her time.”

“I love a romance!’ said one of the children. While it was true that she fantasized about marrying a knight in shining armor one day, she had only picked a knight for this story because it was the first thing she thought of. 

“Ah, but alas this isn't a romance but a dreadful tale for you see, the knight never left. He had collected many, many tithes and decided he would support the family if he had the girl's hand in marriage. Three times he asked and three times she said no. Until one day, a magical…hmm…uh, toad! Yes, a toad, decided to make its appearance, offering her a chance to escape the rude and errant knight. ‘Kiss me!’ it said but she wasn't so sure. But when she was forcibly dragged away from her family by the knight, the frog appeared and she kissed him.”

The children made various noises, indicating their disgust. “Then the girl turned into a magical frog where she lived the rest of her days in a pond not worrying about family or marriage matters. Or money. Or politics. The end.”

The children clapped…slowly and out of step, confused by her story. 

But what else could she do now that her father said he needed to borrow money for his medicine? It was all she could ever think of ever since he put himself in debt.

She checked the time on the grandfather clock. “Oh no!I have to go to the post office! Sorry!” She was now five minutes late. Adding to the trip to the post office, if she were lucky, she would be fifteen minutes late, at best. She would have to do a lot of apologizing to the manager and the other Robins.

And it was because on that day, on that chaotic day, there were no Robins around to help do the very sudden last minute night time delivery that cropped up just when she was arriving over half an hour late to her shift. All because she wanted to help that poor little girl who was being hurt by the man who later called her a thief.

That was the beginning of it all. The day where she had been sent on a nighttime delivery and encountered a nightmare. “You're from the priory? How intriguing! What do you do there, my dear?” asked Victor, their leader during their celebration dinner as if she hadn't just experienced the most traumatic moment of her life. 

But she knew to keep going along with everything so that she could live. Her father needed her. Her sister needed her. “Well, they haven't made me a nun but I sometimes keep the children there company and tell them stories. They really like storytelling, especially if it’s something they’ve never heard before!”

“How wonderful! Our Fairytale keeper knows how to weave a story.”

“Tch,” a voice said as he watched her with narrowed amethyst eyes, his fingers steepled. “Hogwash,” he muttered.

“Thank you,” she said, ignoring the sinister man who watched her from the table with what she suspected was murderous intent. He was the one who had called her revolting and offered to be her savior but he was just like the errant knight from the story she had told the children earlier that day. She thought he had left the party but sometime later that night, he had rejoined, sitting off to the corner, smoking a cigarette.

His gaze was always on her for some indiscernible reason, amethyst eyes cruel, fierce. Sizing her up. As much as she wanted to avoid him, something told her deep down inside that would be more difficult than she could ever imagine.

********

“I have a job for you, my lovely Miss Christabelle,” Victor said only a few mornings after she had (reluctantly) joined Crown. She was expecting this. William was standing beside him, which made her believe that he was a part of his assignment. At least it would be with William, who seemed kind enough.

Christabelle knew it was critical for her to do everything Victor would ask her to do within the month. That was her best chance at survival and returning back to her family, her sister, the orphanage at the priory, and her job at the post office. “A job,” she said as Victor poured her some tea. She could tell by the familiar scent that it was chamomile tea.

“We’ve been observing you,” William said.  That didn’t come as a surprise to her. Not in the slightest. During these past few days, she had talked to everyone at least once. Some of the men in Crown were easier to converse with than others, like Liam or even Harrison. Others were harder to avoid but she still made polite conversation with them no matter how hard she tried. And by others, it was Jude.

“And our dear William has noticed a rather…interesting observation,” Victor said. His hands showed an urging motion as if asking her to down the drink. She only took sips. “Now I must tell you that William has a talent for understanding group dynamics and knowing which skills are needed for a particular mission.”

Christabelle set the tea down, meeting Victor’s gaze. Much to her frustration, a droplet of tea fell into the saucer. She had the urge to wipe it and clean it but instead put up with it. “And what are my skills?”

Victor and William exchanged a glance.

Christabelle knew that probably wasn’t good. She knew of her own shortcomings. Her disorganization, tendency to act before thinking, her--

“You have a very kind and courteous temperament,” Victor said. “As your supervisor and aide to the queen, your primary task is to focus and shadow one person in Crown.” She nodded, setting the half empty teacup to the side. The saucer cracked, which made Victor tut before he continued. “Now, before I tell you who we settled on,I initially disagreed with William’s proposition as to who you could shadow but ultimately we believe that if there is anyone who could provide us with information regarding him and his curse, it would likely be for someone like you to break through his barriers.”

Christabelle began to slowly understand where they were likely going with this. They weren’t going to pick an easy man for her to shadow and as she racked through her mind the possible option, only one of them made sense.

She thought about Bartleby, the scrivener, and how she would very much prefer not to do this task being asked of her.  But it was life or death.

Victor seemed to have immediately read her reluctant expression. “Please don’t frown, Miss Christabelle! We promise if it does not work within a certain time, we will reassign you.”

William gave her a knowing smile, as if he were confident of the man he had chosen. “But I am never wrong in my observations, Little Robin, and if there’s anyone who can write a report on the curse of the Thirteenth Fairy, it’s you.”

*************

The Thirteenth Fairy. Jude Jazza. The man with the white and black hair and sinister appearance was the errant knight she had accidentally divined. Here in the flesh. Or at least that was how she perceived things to be based on his personality and the way he dealt with people. He was like the debtors her father owed. And Victor had tasked her with shadowing him.

He was there every day at breakfast, his nose buried in a book this time. She stares at the spine of the book, trying to make out what he was reading. 

“If ya keep tryin’ to poke a hole through my book, I’m gonna get real mad,” he said without setting the book down.

Christabelle stumbled on her words. Everyone in Crown was so nice and welcoming and then there was Jude Jazza, who was constantly in a foul mood, using the most bitter words against her. “I wanted to know the book you were reading,” she admitted. “I like reading books a lot and I'd read them to the orphans at the priory.”

Jude finally set the book down and Christabelle wished he didn't do that, showing her his sinister violet glare. “Are ya sure ya really wanna know? Don't wanna pollute the little bird’s mind,” he said with a snicker. “Ain't ya a nun or somethin’?”

She shook her head. “I wanted to be but they said I failed the rigorous training so I'm afraid not. That, and they also said I don't have the right disposition to be one.” She was a little too honest with Jude but the words tumbled out of her before she could stop herself.

Jude only rolled his eyes, handing her the book. “It's some hogwash about revivin’ the dead. Prolly too scandalous for someone like ya.”

Her first reaction was to question him. “How do you know that it could be scandalous? I might even enjoy it! Look! The author’s a girl! I doubt a woman would write something scandalous.” She handed the book back to him, which he didn't take.

Jude shrugged, getting up out of his seat. “Talkin’ to ya is a waste of o’ my time and I gotta get to the docks.” He quickly left her all alone in the dining room and bolted out of the room before she could even tell him that Victor was considering having her shadow him for the day.

Christabelle saw he left the book in front of where he was sitting. She gasped. “Jude? Jude! Come back!” She followed after him but he had already left the grounds. “You left your book…” she stared deeply at the cover. It was plain but the title was interesting enough. “Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus,” she read out loud to herself. “Well if he's going to be out all day and won't be able to read this, then maybe it's okay if I can read this book until he comes back…”

Christabelle plopped on a sofa in the living room and read the story, now on the edge of her seat. This book was over fifty years old but she found it fascinating, turning the page even as the men of Crown greeted her throughout the day. 

Victor had shown up at one point looking disappointed but not surprised that Jude had left before she could even tell him about shadowing him. “Not the easiest of my boys to ask favors for. I'm so sorry, my kindly Robin. I will look into any tasks you might help us out with in the meantime and pause on telling Jude anything related to shadowing him. Right now focus on making friends with everyone in Crown, my sweet little Robin! Don't you worry!”

Jude came back during supper and when he did, he reeked of cigarette smoke and salt. “Good evening, Jude. You left your book at the table today so I came here to return it.”

Jude eyed her warily, not saying a word as she left the book in front of him. “Ya didn't happened to have read it, didja?”

“I did,” she admitted. “It was a really great book! The ending was rather depressing but I can see how it influenced so many other books I've read. I saw some stuff there that I've seen in other stories I've read and that was…amazing!”

Jude grabbed the book, not engaging with her conversation. “Of course ya read it. Lil bird with nothin’ to do would read it.” His eyes met hers, which caused her to lose eye contact. She couldn't bring herself to tell him that his words were untrue. That he was…difficult to say the least.

There was a pause between them and she looked back at him. His eyes weren't giving her his usual glare, but rather a softer look. Less intimidating. Approachable. “Tell ya what, birdie. Ya returned my book to me fair ‘n square upon seein’ me so I'll waive the fee.”

“The fee?” She asked, confused. 

“It's my copy, not the library's so if ya wanna take a book from me then ya gotta pay the renter's fee.”

“You left it by accident, though.”

Jude said nothing, before clicking his tongue and leaving. Christabelle now stood in the room, alone, wondering why Jude didn't wish to talk to her about the book. It would have helped her for her records. 

*************

Even though it wasn't quite important in her curse research, both Jude and Harrison liked mystery novels. But little did she know that a mystery of her own would show up on her doorstep soon enough. 

When she opened the door the next morning, she was met with a single purple rose on the floor. It was beautiful, light colored in full bloom. “What a lovely flower!” She asked the maids for a small vase to contain it and keep it alive. It put her in a good mood for breakfast that morning. 

“Ya look nauseatingly giddy today,” Jude said in his usual dour tone. But nothing he could say could bring her down. 

“Are you reading the paper today?”

“What's it to ya?”

“I'm curious!”

He sighed. “I'm reading the finances. Gotta know the state o’ things.” 

“Can I read the sections you aren't reading please?”

Jude groaned then took out a section of the paper that he didn't care for. It was specifically about a gossip column for women, which didn't tailor to her interest. “No stories?”

“I'll loan ya a book if it means yer stop yer yappin’.”

“I'd love to read it but how much is the fee?”

Jude grinned. “That's for me to decide.”

Christabelle hummed. “Hmm…no thanks. I need to save for my theater funds. They're going to start performing The Taming of the Shrew next month and I'd really love to save up for it.” Liam had been cast as Lucentio. She didn't mention she had mostly been saving up for her father's funds. It was hard for her to hold her tongue but she kept her family life quiet since she didn't want Crown thinking she would inadvertently sell them out to her family.

Jude set his paper down. “Then I'll give ya a book then.” His grin was sadistic before he pulled a book from his cape, handing it to her. Moby Dick. The same author as Bartleby, the Scrivener. 

“Is there a fee for this one?”

He cackled. “Nah, I'll just let ya suffer with this one.” Jude stood up, the chair squeaking below him as he left for another work day. She was relieved that Victor put shadowing him or having to do anything with him on pause because he was so…difficult.

And speaking of difficult, Christabelle did indeed struggle with the book, with the prose being incredibly dense and the plot unengaging to her, but if anything, she was persistent. 

The next day, and the day after that, she was greeted by more purple roses at her doorstep. On the fourth day, she asked for a bigger vase to hold all her flowers. The flowers gave off a nice fragrance which helped offset her already messy room, full of books and fairytales recorded throughout the centuries alongside her own scribbles and notes.

But now the mystery was deepening: where were these flowers coming from? Now she had felt compelled to solve it. The problem was how would she even find out?

Alfons happened to be walking past the halls as he saw her holding today's rose. He was more than quick on the uptake. “It seems you've got a secret admirer, hmm?” he said, his voice slinky. 

“I do?” she asked. She decided to choose her words carefully in case her gut feeling was wrong. “I thought everyone in the castle had flowers delivered to them.”

Alfons got closer to her. “If by everyone, they mean you, then sure. How would you react if I told you that I sent them?”

“You did?” The flowers didn't seem quite his style but Alfons was an elegant man and roses were quite elegant. 

“Sure I did. Pretty little thing like you.” His hand slipped to her shoulders, moving closer to her neck. Slithering slowly towards the back. Slithering slowly, softly…

“Oi! What do you think you're doing?” A tired sounding voice cut through the moment. It was Harrison. 

Alfons retracted his hand, giving Harrison a wide smile. “It appears our Miss Robin has a secret admirer.”

Harrison narrowed his gaze at Alfons. “Let me guess, you were about to lay claim over something you didn't do.”

Alfons gasped, looking mock offended. “I only said ‘if’ I had sent it!”

Christabelle interrupted. “I only wanted to know where these roses are coming from, that's all. It's a nice gesture and I'd like to thank them.”

“It wasn't Alfons,” Harrison said with a firmness to his voice, his teal eyes narrowing at him. “Or me for that matter.”

“Oh. I see. Thank you for confirming with me.”

“There is absolutely no chance someone as uncouth as Roger would hand you such a delicate rose either,” Alfons said. “And conversely, neither would Elbert, for the opposite reasons.”

“For once you're not lying,” Harrison said. “Maybe it was from one of us, or it could be from one of our servants.” What he said opened up new possibilities. “But if I were you, I'd just enjoy the gift and let it go.”

Christabelle nodded. “It is a really nice gesture. I've never received gifts like this before. That's why…” she thought of her father and how pained he looked each time he had given her a gift for her birthday or Christmas. He always expressed his affection for her but his eyes did not lie. Eventually when she turned fifteen, she stopped asking for presents altogether and began asking for prayers and non tangible gifts. “I'll let it go,” she said, meaning her words. 

At least at that time, she did really mean her words. Ellis was at breakfast this morning, debriefing Jude on what they'd do today. Jude's eyes were closed as he drummed his fingers on his forearms. “Bloody annoyin’ when my men break their promises,” he grumbled, his mood sour. She was hoping to see him today to tell him she finished Moby Dick but seeing his mood made her stay silent.

Christabelle had gotten used to taking breakfast at the same time as Jude but right now his entire aura meant she should remain as quiet as possible. 

“Good morning Christabelle,” Ellis said. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded. “Yes,” she said as Jude’s eyes opened and he got up from his chair, his cape flapping behind him as he walked away, his mood still dark. 

“Jude isn't happy today,” Ellis said with a frown. 

“I can see that. I hope he'll be happy later.”

“Mm. Are you happy right now?”

“Kind of,” she admitted. “I have to admit, someone's been leaving roses in front of my door this week. It's a very kind thing to do since no one's ever given me gifts like this.”

“I didn't know you liked roses,” Ellis said. “Can I give you roses too? It would make you feel happy, wouldn't it?” He had confirmed that he wasn't the sender of her roses. 

“That would be sweet of you. I would have to get more vases, but I'd really like to kn--.”

“Whaddya waitin’ for?” Jude's voice bellowed out, cutting through her voice. 

“Sorry, I've got to go.” Ellis bowed to her and left. 

She didn't mean to lie to Harrison, she didn't mean it at all at the time but her curiosity was gnawing at her. She needed to know. 

“Did they leave a note?” William asked as she approached Victor's office. The two men were conversing over matters. Christabelle only went to confirm if this was a normal occurrence. If she went straight to the source, then she would know what was going on. 

“There wasn't a note. That's the odd thing.”

“Ah, I see, Robin,” William said. “If I had sent you a rose, I would at least bothered to have signed it in this particular instance. And you said they were purple. Red is more my color,” he said. 

“That is a rather curious matter. My Little Robin is very sweet to my boys so it could be any,” Victor said. “After all, sweet birds do deserve lovely flowers.”

“How do you know it's one of the men?” she asked. 

“I know my boys better than anyone.”

“So does that mean you know who exactly sent it?”

Victor lurched, his hand dramatically on his heart. “Alas, with such errant boys as these, I'm afraid I cannot say for certain who sent what. But know that it was not William, nor myself.”

Christabelle smiled at them. “Thank you for confirming with me though.”

Christabelle had created a list in her head. That meant the rose had to be sent by Liam. It was poetic, really. Her favorite actor who was always crowned in flowers, giving her flowers every day as well. 

“Huh?” He said as he was leaving the laboratory with a bandaged hand. “You've got me confused with the wrong guy. That's not me!” He laughed. “You'd know if it were me. I like modern roses.”

“But you're so kind and poetic!”

“Hehe thanks, but nope! But we're in the same club now!” He took her hands and began to swing them together. “We're the Flower Recipient Club for Admirers!”

Christabelle later came back to her room to type her latest report and do some light reading, mostly short stories. It wasn't until after sunset when she heard a thump! Thump! outside. 

Her curiosity had gotten the best of her and she opened the door. Jude was outside, covered in blood. He was muttering something as he paced the halls. She tried to close the door but he had caught her. 

“Um…are you alright?”

Jude grumbled. “What kinda…”

Their eyes locked, her light blue ones with his harsh amethyst ones. “Um…do you need a towel?” It was the best she could come up with. “Er…for that uh…knife?” She pointed at the giant sword that was entirely sheathed and still bloody.

“Sword,” he corrected, not answering her.

Christabelle quickly left then came back with a towel, “What are you doing here?” She asked as she handed the towel to him. 

“It's my home too. I can roam anywhere I want, yeah?”

“Even with blood covered everywhere?” She never thought she'd have a conversation with a sinning man like this. She would have to pray for him soon enough, and pray for all of them, even though since she started living in the castle, she was now praying less and less. 

“Yer sure asking lotsa questions, bird.”

“I want to help in whatever way I can.”

He rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Listen…Yer too nosy, too innocent. That old codger, wantin’ me to babysit ya. Ridiculous.” He sheathed his sword, which dropped blood onto the tiled floors as he slumped forward. She wondered if it was his blood there for a moment but she dismissed the notion. He pointed the sword in her direction, his eyes shining with frenzied glee as she stiffened against the wall. “Nosy lil’ birds…when they flutter too close to the snake's nest…”

“They get eaten,” she finished, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her. His sword did not move. The scent of blood was overpowering her. “I did mean to help. Truly. And I wanted to talk to you about that book with the whale earlier today,” she stammered. And what was that about an “old codger”. Was that supposed to be Victor? Did Victor tell him that he wanted her to record him? She was trying to understand why in the world Jude had shown up here and what he was thinking.

Jude retracted the sword, still grinning. “Yer tryin to be a brave lil’ bird but I can see yer body reactin’ to my sword.” 

“I'm not going to pry, so don't worry.”

“All ya need to know is that this is what happens when ya make promises ya can't keep, yeah?”

Christabelle thought it was an odd conversation they were having but she could see where he was going with this. In a way, he appeared to be venting to her, as if asking to wash away his sins. “If you need to clean up in my room, you're welcome to.”

“Pfft. As if I'd go to a dainty saint's room,” he said, snorting. He wheezed as he began to laugh. Christabelle tried to hide her humiliation from him by giving him a smile. He was impossible to read. Much like Moby Dick.

“Well, um…goodnight then. Sleep well.”

Then as Jude began to make his way back, he took one step…two…then collapsed. 

Christabelle had to call for help to escort Jude to the laboratory, where Roger revealed Jude had gotten stabbed. Again. 

“What?” He wasn't acting like it. Or maybe he had been delirious. It was hard to pick up when one was delirious when they had a sword aimed right at you.

“This man gets stabbed every three business days so I'm used to it,” Roger said, patching him up. “But there's just something I don't understand. He was in your corridor and you two were talking before he collapsed?”

“Yes, that's about right.” She omitted the part where he drew his sword at her. Looking back, he did seem off with his movements. His posture was all sorts of wrong and his eyes…

“Did he appear delirious? He's a stubborn one. Especially when he's drunk or stabbed. He'll forget to come to me. But maybe it means he thought you could cure him, lil’ lady.” He laughed to himself.

“I doubt that.” She thought of how annoying she must have been towards him. She had become too accustomed to him and his blunt manner and had gotten complacent. “I'm just glad he's safe and healthy here with you.” She looked at his sleeping form, his breathing ragged but otherwise, fine. He looked younger than he acted which made her wonder even more about him, like his age and the things he had seen. And why he was near her room of all places after such an incident.

She thought about the book he loaned her for free, Moby Dick. It had been a tough read but she had made herself read it to the end through sheer willpower. If she could do that, then maybe she could eventually break through Jude's barriers.

Roger interrupted her swirling thoughts. “He'll be better by morning so don't worry your sweet little head,” he said with a wistfulness that she couldn't place. “But if something happens to him, you'd cry, wouldn't you?”

“Of course. I know him well.”

“Then make sure to cry when I am in the room, okay, lil lady?”

Christabelle didn't react to his extremely strange words. “Goodnight, Roger.”

She tried to sleep as best she could the next day but the sunlight felt harsh and unforgiving. She trudged out of bed and then got ready for her day. 

Upon opening the door, the purple rose laid on the floor, waiting for her, as if welcoming her day. She bent over to pick it up, wanting to take in its sweet fragrance but what she saw had almost made her drop her flower altogether as she gasped.

Immediately the phrase Harrison had quoted to her from Sherlock Holmes came to mind as everything flashed before her eyes: When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

Because within the rose's beautiful, soft petals, small droplets of blood remained.

*******

Jude was at breakfast not that day, but the next. His movements were slower, more languid, from the way he held his spoon to the way he would let out a groan when he changed his posture on his seat.

Christabelle’s heart thrummed as this was the first time she was reunited with him after that episode but after discovering he was her apparent admirer. The main question she had was: why?

But this was Jude Jazza and she knew she would never get a straight answer out of him.

Jude’s gaze narrowed at her when he caught her gaze and she fought back the urge to look away. “Are you feeling better?” she asked, filling the unbearable void of silence. She couldn’t bring herself to ask him about the roses. Not right now.

“I’m here, ain’t I?” he said in a cruel, matter-of-fact tone. It must have been Jude’s rough way of saying yes, he was feeling better.

“That’s good.” She paused. The weighty silence began to fill its way up again.  “I finished Moby Dick,” she said, quelling it.

Jude smirked. “Ya did, didja? Good girl fer readin’ all that rubbish.”

She broke eye contact with him when he called her “good girl”. It made her squirm in her seat. Was he praising her or was he talking down to her? She couldn’t tell. “I didn’t like it much either,” she said. “The prose is too dense. But I understood Captain Ahab, to a degree.”

“So yer a bloody lunatic like ‘em, then?” Jude said.

“No!” she said. “I understood the part about wanting to meet your goals, even if you can never meet them. You still have to try. Of course, his way wasn’t, um…necessarily the best, but…” She thought of her goals. She had the wrong disposition to be a nun, but the right one in being assigned to shadow Jude.

“But what?” he barked, taking her out of her reverie. 

“It was what he wanted, I suppose,” she finished meekly. There was another pause. “I really didn’t enjoy this one, sorry,” She handed the book back to him from across the table. 

Jude laughed, taking the book from her. It was as if he couldn’t remember their last encounter. Which led her to theorize if he was leaving her those flowers was he injured? Drunk? She wanted to find out. 

Then Jude stood up. It was anticlimactic. She wasn’t even going to bother him anymore. Tell William and Victor that there was a zero chance that he--

“Oi! Bird. Are ya comin’ along or not?”

Christabelle turned around her chair at a faster pace than she expected. “Huh? Me?”

“Yeah, you.” He steepled his fingers. “Who else? The chair?”

“Where’s Ellis?”

“That boy hasn’t left the bloody office in days.” He turned his back to her, his cape swishing. She stumbled out of her seat before he could repeat himself.

This was it. He was giving her the opening she needed.

But instead, they were in a carriage, where space was cramped and she was practically smushed together with Jude. Christabelle disliked small spaces like this, reminding her of how much space she occupied, which led to thoughts about how she was one more mouth to feed.

She kept her knuckles over her knees, making herself small, looking out the window as the carriage moved. Her neck hurt from craning it, but she didn’t want to make eye contact with Jude, not when she was this close to him. She could hear him breathing, the sounds of his breath were punctuated with wheezing. He didn’t smell like blood, but rather carried his scent of sandalwood, but she knew he hadn’t fully recovered. She could see him staring at her, sizing her up out of the corner of her eye.

“Yer neck’s gonna hurt if ya keep going like that, stupid lil bird.”

She moved her face down, unable to meet his scrutinizing gaze. She had her chance to talk to him here but now that she was in close proximity to him, all of her thoughts disappeared.

Jude sighed, lifting his leg and crossing it before taking out a newspaper. She tilted her head up, now able to look across as he read. “I don’t get ya at all,” he muttered. “Weird lil bird.”

Christabelle was able to finally speak to Jude when he led her to his office after checking in on the various cargo boxes that were coming in and out of the port.

His office was small, narrow,  and cramped. If the carriage ride made her uncomfortable with its tight enclosed space, this was even worse with the numerous items strewn across the room. Jude took a seat in his plush chair, easily avoiding the stacks of items that were piled up to her waist.

Christabelle observed the space. Her hips were twice the size of Jude’s and she wasn’t known for her gracefulness. It would be extremely easy to knock down his belongings.

Jude’s voice interrupted her. “Ain’tcha going to sit down already?”

She moved forwards, trying to will her body to become narrow as she moved to her side, sliding so that she wouldn’t knock anything down. However,  just the brush of her hips made one of Jude’s piles wobble. She grabbed it, trying to keep it together before her other side made the other pile fall to the floor. “Oh crumbs.”

She peeked at Jude who was watching her with…some kind of amusement. 

That made her lower her guard causing her to bend down and pick up what she had dropped, making the stack she was just holding crumple on the floor. “Sorry!”

“Leave it,” Jude said as she struggled with the space. “Just sit down.” His tone was harsh but his eyes continued to show that same amusement, his elbows to his desk, his chin resting on his knuckles. 

Christabelle sat in the chair in front of Jude. It wobbled as she did. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. To bring up why he was giving her roses and lending her books or why he came to visit her the other night while covered in blood. Her nerves got the best of her.

“That kooky old man wants ya to observe me, eh?” he said.

“It was William,” she said, clarifying for him. “He made the suggestion.”

Jude’s hands dropped to the desk as he steepled his fingers. “That man and his absolute--” he paused, glaring at her. “Why would he send a clumsy, annoyin’ and ignorant lil princess at me?”

“I don’t know,” she said, trying to shrug off his insults. “But my goal is to survive the month and go back to my life. And if that means I have to watch over you and write reports about you and your curse then so be it. I will do anything to keep up my end of the bargain, even if it means being with you for the next four weeks.”

Jude’s eyebrow raised and he gave out an exasperated sigh. She could still hear his wheezing. “Alright…but I better not hear a single complaint outta ya like “No!” or “I wanna go home!””

She nodded. “Okay. I won’t get in your way.”

“Promise not to run till the end, got it princess?”

Christabelle was warned about making promises with Jude but this was one she knew she could keep. “I promise.”

Jude smiled and she felt something prickle at the back of her neck as he leaned forward. “I’ve always wanted a secretary.” 

“A secretary?”

“Think yer too good for it?”

“No! Of course not. I’ll help you if makes things easier.”

“It won’t. You’ll make it worse, I reckon. But as my secretary, ya better start cleaning up the piles of things ya dropped. And put it in the exact order I had them in.”

“Huh? But I--”

He leaned in further, his voice firm and commanding. “Ya better get to work, princess, or I’ll make sure ya never leave this room.”

Something stirred in her chest from his tone. “Right on it, Jude.”

“Call me Sir. Or Master will do just fine,” he said with a smirk.

“Yes, Sir!” she said, moving down to the floor where she had picked up and organized the papers and reorganized them until they inevitably fell again because she kept knocking them down with her body.

Which is why later that night, after a long day of being Jude’s beleaguered secretary that consisted of being on the floor,  she was baffled to see not just one purple rose at her doorstep, but three purple roses. 

“Jude Jazza is the most incorrigible man on earth.” She did the sign of the cross. These next four weeks were going to be long. “God help me.”

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Any theory why mcu Mr knight's mask have crack in it??

....You've called me out and now I'm going to go sit in the corner.

I have no idea why his mask is like that. If you had asked me in the same year that it came out, I'm sure I could have totally spun out some yarn about Steven not knowing what he's doing and remembering Marc's mask and his own mask becoming split because he himself is feeling split in different directions.

We do see Marc's own outfit and how it crosses the mummification motif because Marc feels like a dead man and also takes the whole Egypt theme very literally. That's an easy one!

But Steven? Well we see him struggle with his appearance. He views himself as looking differently. He doesn't understand that his body is a result of Marc's high workout routines and thinks he is healthy because he eats carefully. He also tries to dress up and is unhappy with how he looks. He just has a very different idea on how he looks. When he first sees Marc, he flat out calls him Handsome. Now, he's either being cheeky because Marc looks like him... Or he's being true because he doesn't think Marc looks like him.

So when he hears "Suit" he imagines how he wanted to look on the date. Like a literal Knight in shining armor. But what about the crack?

Best I can come up with is it's a design choice?

Looking at the making of the show: Marc was originally supposed to be the one in the Mr. Knight suit.

The crack makes sense then, doesn't it? Marc, for once, makes it easier. A literal split and divide in himself. In his mentality. In his very being Khonshu himself said he was shattered. Of course Marc is going to see himself as broken and cracked.

But then they took the show in a different direction and Steven got the proper suit.

So.... How about this?

We start with the moon. A mark of Khonshu. We know Khonshu likes to mark his 'things'. He's got his name literally written ALL OVER Marc. Even the little buttons on Steven's cuffs say Khonshu.

But Khonshu is not fond of Steven. And more so… Steven is not fond of Khonshu.

The crack starts at the top as if hastily formed together, then outlines the moon, and finally joins down the center and swerves off to the side.

Perhaps resistance? A mar on an otherwise perfect suit.

Ah yes… Here we go. I knew I'd get there eventually if I just thought about it hard enough.

Steven's difiance and Khonshu's reluctance to let Steven be in charge.

A perfect smooth and well forming suit, tailor made just for Steven… With one little reminder right down the front that Steven is NOT his perfect little Avatar. Steven will break their bond and he will split Khonshu from them like drawing poison from a wound.

SO… What do you think? Did I make any sense? Do you agree with me? Or do I go sit back in my shame corner?

[llondonfog]

twst (horror) tober — day 3 (sharp)

➤ Day 3: Sharp | “Careful, you could hurt someone with that.”

His father warns him of such as Silver hefts the practice sword with wide-eyed wonder, the weight of a budding world lying in the palm of his hand as his fingers wrap around the grip and pommel.

It is a plain thing— blade made of tapered, sanded wood held in place by a thick cross guard and rustic, brown leather-wrapped handle. The hilt has worn down over the years, faded where many a trainee wielded it with all the might of their deepest wish: to become a knight in the royal guard, to wear the emblem of their kingdom over their chest with untold pride and undying honor.

To Silver, it's the most beautiful sword in the world.

Despite his father's cautious reminder, Silver can see him smile faintly from where he stands, arms crossed in an attempt to hide his biased pleasure as his son takes his first step along the arduous path to share his mantle. His father may not be the most expressive man, but Silver knows where to look for his kindness, his love. They even match today— his mother had laughed so fondly at the sight of them at breakfast with their golden locks held back in place, dressed in similar training outfits that his father had commissioned the royal tailor to create, as Silver diligently reached for second helpings of every plate his father had selected.

"My most handsome knights," she had murmured, kissing his father on a pinking cheek and her giggling son on the top of his head. "How well our people will sleep tonight knowing that they have the two of you to protect us all."

His father gestures to a training dummy with a breastplate and pauldrons of armor already assembled, the dull sheen of metal beckoning in the mid-morning sun. A buckler of hammered steel is held protectively before it, and Silver's heart leaps into his throat at the sight.

"We've sparred with batons enough," his father continues in that same patient tone, all the time and peace in the world to train his only beloved son. "I think that it is time for you to test your hand against what a true opponent would use to block an attack. Your swing needs to be able to withstand a shield rising in front of you, it would not do you any good as a swordsman or a knight to lose your blade in battle because you could not keep a grip on it."

Silver nods solemnly in agreement; it is not mere prattle that his father speaks, he did not become the foremost knight of their kingdom, their realm, by negligence and sheer luck alone. Chest brimming with the joy of knowing his father deems him ready for advancement, has seen the diligence and dedication of Silver's daily practices, he turns to face the dummy, readying his wooden blade.

The faceless straw head stares impassively back at him as he judges the distance between them, the weight of the sword in his hands, the force of the impact he ought to carry through in order to dislodge the shield without injury. Silver can feel his father's gaze, warm with silent pride, resting like laurels over him, invisible in its comfort and steadfast in its praise. He can do this.

He readies his stance, the lightest touch of a summer's breeze lifting his fringe as he all but feels the rushing power of young muscles tensing together to propel his swing—

And drops the sword in shock, hands stinging from the impact as it clatters painfully off his shin.

"Silver!"

Within an instant, his father has rushed to his side, those auroral eyes so identical to his own flush with concern. Calloused hands gently take his own, flipping them over with care and searching his body for bruising, but Silver all but brushes them off, babbling incoherently with a fright so innate, he cannot remember where it emerged from.

"I—I saw someone! Father, I— I know I did, they were standing just behind you!"

For his credit, his father does take a bemused glance behind himself to the empty practice field, but it is simply just that: a desolate training ground that he had ensured would be free of guards and servants for the quality time of training his son.

"Silver, I . . . I do not doubt that you were concentrating, but perhaps it was merely a shadow of a bird? You know how they often enjoy gathering here to watch you spar, are you certain it was a figure that you saw?"

He cannot stop the trembling of his fingers, the bone-deep curdling of his blood. His father soothes a hand through his hair, tucks him into the warm safety of his side, and wipes away the shaken tears that have begun to spill from his eyes, murmuring sweet nothings that have no effect on his reeling nerves.

He knows what he saw— the figure standing behind his father, clad all in shadow with emerald eyes gleaming like the jewels in his mother's crown, pitch-black horns spiraling to the sky.

And clasped in their long, thin fingers, dangling like a noose from blackened talons— his father's necklace, the ring glinting like a warning in the suddenly cold summer sun.

[divorcedwife]

i just found your chess art and im sosososo obsessed. the characters are so cool and really embody the fighting styles of the pieces. i wish i could watch them in like a magical girl tv show

whats your inspiration/reference for your costume design? especially the more historic ones?

love your work <3

thank you, thank you so much!!

i really like fashion and history, so when im not drawing i do spend a lot of time looking at historical clothes and designers i like. i find it hard to think of what time periods/designers inspire me the most in general, but i can elaborate on my inspiration for the chess pieces!

for the queen, i was inspired by charles james, and this coat in particular. i thought the queen should wear something rigid, tailored, very structured and dramatic, and 1950s designers are always a good place to look for that. i was also inspired by this house of worth dress for the sleeves

for the knight, i was inspired by this specific dior look. i wanted to keep this one simple and clean, no frills, no sheer fabric, and let the details of the armor pieces and thigh slit shine

for the pawn, i wanted something youthful and fun, so i was thinking 1960s, mary quant in particular. a babydoll silhouette, printed tights, flat shoes, short hair :-) but with a square neckline and dramatic sleeves to look a little like the king and queen

the bishop was probably the most historically inspired - the silhouette is classic 1780s, the sleeves are from the chemise à la reine style of the 1790s. i was also thinking gothic lolita when i was drawing her. it does make sense when i think about it : using christian symbols for fashion is a classic goth move, so it's a good place to look for a bishop design. since the bishops are closest to the royals, i thought she needed to have a lot going on with her design, but more fun than the queen

the rook and king, this is where i ran out of ideas entirely lol. i will confess : the others, i drew them because i had a very clear vision of where i wanted to go, i could picture them in my head and it was just a matter of drawing and refining them. and these last two, i drew because i had designs for 4/6, so it felt strange to stop there

my only idea for the rook was to have subtle rectangles on her dress, like... bricks... cause she's a tower. this is the best thing i could think of, so things were really dire. luckily i did have the idea of giving her a gun, which is always a good way to make a design cooler

ty again for your kind words and for asking! i always love to talk about fashion :-) <3333

[sotc]

my onions on the da4 '22min guided playthrough' in the read more below:

The jog animation is a little wonky. I don't mind it as much out in the world when you're wearing armor it feels less noticeable but in the rest area like the Lighthouse in casual clothes it's... well... noticeable! lol

Mage gameplay looks like a lot of fun imo! And this is only one aspect to it so I'm still very optimistic about what the other specs will feel like! I don't know if it's "controversial" but DA2 mage combat was iffy at best. It was cool to see your character twirling the staff around but it was a damn snoozefest to me otherwise since you just stand there to auto - at least this gameplay looks way more interactive and mobile navigating a battlefield. I haven't played Inquisition mage (yet but I plan to do Knight Enchanter). My only concern maybe is hoping mana regen is a little faster?

ASSAN. PERFECT BABY WITH THE MOST FLOPPIEST EARS. NO NOTES. 10/10.

The facial animations look really solid imo. The eyes and their tracking look great, even with a very tall Qunari! Syncing lip movement is probably the only wonky part I've noticed (and likely the hardest thing to work on I imagine). There is room for some polishing there. I know there are mixed opinions about this but I don't mind that even NPCs aren't mo-capped or anything either so they appear 'stiffer'. That's fine to me. As long as the important, story/interaction scenes look good I'm happy.

The Qunari showcased today was not... the best look imo. DA2 qunari were the best in terms of design (blows kiss). I am just hoping it was a player choice to have such a smooth/young look and that there will be more textured options. I don't even think I plan to ever play a Qunari but my qunari friends deserve a good cc!!

Environments are CRAZZZZZYYYY good I'm obsessed!! Can't wait to drink it all in.

Overall, still stupidly stoked to play! Mostly can't wait to see the accessibility options too to tailor the graphics how I want them.

[writerfae]

Hi!

First of all, this might sound strange (and out of nowhere, but I think you need to let people know if you are grateful for them (i hope you don't mind), so I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate that you always let me know if/ when/ why you didn't answer or if your answer is short (not that it happens that often), because I know it's not something that you're obligated to do, and you have no idea how much it helps when I'm anxious❤️

Second:

I may have come up with an au of our crossover, and I wanted to see what you think...(i hope you don't mind×2)

Okay, it starts out really sad, but it gets cuter. I promise!

Taiden adopt ghost Ákos au! (It needs a better name)

You: ....What?

Long story short: in a version of my story Adél and Bendegúz don't go to rescue Ákos (this is the beginning of the villain Ákos au, but for our purposes it's not).

The Black swamp usually doesn't kill people. It prefers eternal torture. However, in this au, the doves feel really bad for Ákos, and though they can't do much, they can allow his soul to rest. In my world, there is no afterlife, but knowing how unfair the situation was, how cruel, the doves send him to a place that they know Ákos would love.

A land full of magic, knights and fae.

They send his ghost to the fae realm!

At first Ákos is just excitedly looking around enchanted by how magical this place is, but he pretty quickly stumbles upon a knight (guard) in shining armor practicing with his sword. Talon.

Talon can't see Ákos. Maybe he senses that something's off, but he can't put his finger of it.

Despite the fact that the man can't see him Ákos is in awe of him. He's just like a knight in a story. He's tall, wields a 7 has cool, gold eyes.

Someone like that would surely slay any monster that'd dare hurt someone. He makes Ákos feel safe. He feels like nothing can hurt him when the knight is there, so he sticks by Talon.

This feeling of safety gets reinforced again and again the more he learns about Talon. Especially when he figures out how much he also loves the stars.

No one can see Ákos. They do feel something's there that they can't see, but it's a very faint feeling, so they might just brush it off. Then Aiden arrives back from spending a long week in the human realm (or something), and he's like: who's the kid?

He can see and hear Ákos.

I imagine Ákos is just a bit different in this au because death. He's not all that eger to share why he's here beyond "Talon is cool!" (But, considering Odette's betrayal, his trauma from the swamp, and the fact that in this case no one came for him, I'd say that's fair). At first, he also just thinks that this is a world tailor made for him by the doves, so he doesn't feel like he needs to explain himself. But he's still the same, sweet Ákos.

He'd be really glad that someone's finally able to hear him, if only so he can ask Talon the 101 questions he wanted to ask all this time but couldn't.

When he hears about the things that Aiden has done he'd do the same to him.

Now, you tell me how Aiden and co would react to a ghost kid only Aiden can see, and how Talon would react to finding out that that ghost kid has been stalking him for the past week, because you probably know that better than I do.

And taiden are probably like: this is our child now! Our wierd ghost child! But we love him!

(I also low-key got really obsessed with this idea and got some headcanons, but I wanted to see what you think first (please add things to this if you want❤️)

It doesn’t sound strange at all, I’m glad I can ease your anxiousness a bit like that ^^ I always feel a bit bad when it happens so I try to at least warn you if I can’t answer on time / in the way I usually do.

I don’t mind at all, crossover AUs are fun!

Though of course it’s really sad how ghost Ákos came to be, I think the idea of his ghost being in the faerie realm (and the doves showing mercy on him) is pretty sweet!

I love how ghost Ákos holds on to Talon of all people, his reasoning is so cute and fitting for his character. Him feeling safe with Talon 🥺 (I see why)

I also love that no one but Aiden can see Ákos, it is so funny.

Aiden just randomly being like “who’s that kid?” I’m dying of laughter xD I would love to see people’s faces, especially Talon’s.

Of course with the trauma of Ákos’ death (and everything that led to it) he is changed a bit, but I have no doubt that he’s as sweet as ever.

So I bet it would be quite the pleasant “haunting” for Talon xD (up until he’s attacked with thousands of questions)

I bet Aiden would tease Talon by calling Ákos his ghost son xD

You know, given the world they live in and things they’ve witnessed, a ghost kid that attached himself to Talon and can only be seen by Aiden doesn’t even surprises them that much, haha.

They’d be a bit concerned maybe as to why he isn’t in the realm ghosts usually can be found.

I think Halea would find it quite amusing, Callan and Henry would both worry because why is this literal child a ghost in the first place???

Maya would worry cause that’s what she does but she’d probably find it quite endearing that her friend has a ghostly little fan now.

I think Talon would be something between freaked out and flattered and Aiden would just find it really cool (and cute).

Feel free to share your headcanons for this AU with me! It’s a really interesting idea!

[hunnythebee]

Late Nights at 79s

18+ MINORS DNI 18+

Chapter 1: Taboo

You are a new Jedi Knight living in the heart of Coruscant and discovering the joys of the night life and the pleasures of the men who work so closely with the Jedi.

Explicit - 4.2k words - first person - female reader

Chapter 2 | Masterlist | AO3

Tags: Echo x Reader, Fives x Reader, Jedi!Reader, Fem!Reader, AFAB!Reader, clubbing, the 501st, Coruscant, 79s, hidden identity, flirting, kissing, dancing

WARNINGS and fic below the cut

last call minors gtfo

Warnings and Explicit tags: Alcohol, Oral (female recieving), Bathroom sex, exhibitionism if you squint, PIV, unprotected, creampie, dubcon?, straight up blasphemous use of the force.

Being a Jedi Knight definitely had its perks. For starters, being allowed to live outside the walls of the Temple on Coruscant, giving me a sense of freedom I never even knew I craved. Secondly, I was able to have a life outside of the order. As a Padawan I had always heard clones discussing places on the lower levels with dancing and drinking, but never did I think that I would enjoy such things. How wrong I was. It didn’t take long till I came across one of these clubs, and shortly after that I became a regular patron. It was an extremely risky game I was playing, clubbing with clones. Any given night I could be recognized, but I didn’t care. If I’m being completely honest it added to the exhilaration of being in such places.

My first night was fairly tame. I hadn’t known how to dress or act in such a situation. I only danced to two songs and drank one drink. In the morning I realized how lucky I was to not have been recognized by any of the clones. Originally I made a vow to myself to never go back, but I couldn’t help myself. It was fun and I craved more. The next time I went I was smarter. I purchased a few skimpy outfits, mirroring the women I had seen in the club my first night, and a pair of heels. The smartest addition to my outfits was a lightweight hooded cowl with a mask. Covering my face and hair so only my eyes show. 

That was a month ago, and I’ve gone at least twice a week every week since. Tonight I was going again, but this night was going to be quite different from others. I had already gone out to 79s twice this week, but on the second night I met a very flirty and forward ARC Trooper from the 501st. After he bought me a drink and we danced for a bit he invited me to come again tonight. He told me his brothers in blue were going to be there and I couldn’t pass on the chance to party with Skywalker’s boys. Since I knew that they were 501st, I decided a special outfit might be in order. I donned the white version of my signature cowl and a tight, short satin dress. It was a vibrant blue with two strips of fabric covering my breasts and tying behind my neck. My eyes were lined by a kohl liner and faux lashes. It made me feel more alluring as I peered up at the clones from behind my mask. I checked the time and discovered I was already running late, so I tucked my hair up into the hood and pulled up my mask. Ready to hail a speeder taxi to the lower levels.

When I arrived the music was steadily thumping inside and there was already a line wrapping around the block. I sighed, mentally cursing myself for taking so long. Just as I was about to make my way to the end of the line a masculine grabbed the crook of my elbow and spun me around. It was the clone who had invited me.

“There you are!” He greeted me with a mischievous crooked grin. He wasn’t wearing his half blacks, half armor that he had been wearing when I met him. No, tonight he was wearing a well tailored black button down and deliciously tight grey slacks. I eyed him up and down, thankful for the mask hiding the fact that I was biting my lip. He wouldn’t have caught it anyways, since he was too busy ogling me.

“Did you wear all this for me?” He asked smugly, a smirk plastered to his face.

“I might have,” I winked, “I think the 501st looks rather good on me, don’t you?”

“Baby…” he clutched his chest and stumbled back dramatically. “You gotta warn a man before you say something like that.” He earned the laughter he was after and returned to my side, snaking an arm around my waist and resting his hand on my hip. He was guiding me straight to the door, past the ever-growing line. He locked eyes with the bouncer and they gave each other a familiar nod as the velvet rope was lifted for us.

Inside it was loud and crowded and familiar. It was a really busy night, busier than what I was used to. All the tables were occupied and there was hardly any standing room at the bar. The clone by my side leaned in close to my ear, the scruff of his goatee brushing my skin ever so lightly.

“The boys and I already got a booth, what do you say we get you a drink?” His voice was so sultry and close to my ear that my skin erupted into chills and I lost my words for a moment. I gathered myself and cleared my throat.

“A drink would be great, thanks.” I nodded to him. We pushed our way up to the bar, where he got the attention of the bartender. Luckily, it was the one I usually saw when I came so I didn’t even have to order. They turned around, handed me my usual order and went back to serving the other patrons. My host was amazed by the interaction.

“That was impressive. You some kind of Jedi? Send him your order via the Force or some kriff?” He laughed at his own joke as I froze. My eyes widened in shock for a second before processing that he wasn’t being serious. I let out a half hearted laugh, which was not enough for him to drop it.

“You okay?” His face showed genuine concern as he searched my eyes. My heart was racing still, but I managed to compose myself.

“Yeah… just nervous about meeting your brothers,” I lied, brushing off my shock as nerves.

He cupped my clothed cheek with his hand, and I could feel the warmth transfer through the thin material. “There’s nothing to be worried about mesh’la. I’m not sure what you’ve heard, but I promise we aren’t that bad.”

I nodded, still feeling a twinge of fear in my gut. Something in the way the Force was ebbing around me tonight told me that change was coming and I feared that it meant that my little charade was about to be discovered. I had been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t caught that he was talking to me again, not until his lips were against my ear again.

“The name’s Fives, by the way,” never had an introduction sounded so seductive, “I don’t think I ever caught your name.”

I swallowed hard. In all the times I had been here I had been able to avoid giving my name. I didn’t even have a fake one on hand. I hesitated for a long moment before having a stroke of genius.

“You…” I placed an open palm to his chest, resting on the slightly exposed skin, “Can call me Fours.”

He smirked and squinted at me quizically, “Why ‘Fours’?”

I leaned in close to ear and pulled my mask down so my lips could brush his ear for a change, “Because, Fours comes before Fives.”

He shivered at my words and gripped my hips hard as I pulled my mask back up. Fives pulled me in tight against him and rested his forehead to mine. The biggest grin spread across his face. “We are going to have the best karking night.”

After our little introduction, he led me by the hand to one of the booths lining the walls. It was packed tight with clones in various states of dress. Two were sporting the standard half blacks, half armor of most off-duty clones, and were engaged in an intense arm wrestling match. One was dressed in a muscle tank with a leather jacket draped over the back of the booth near him, nursing his drink and lazily watching the events of the match unfold. The last one was dressed similarly to Fives, but his shirt matched the color of my dress. He had been watching for us. Fives presented me to the table while they all looked up from what they were doing.

“This is Fours, boys. I told you I was bringing a beauty tonight.” He announced proudly, causing my cheeks to flush. Once again I felt very thankful for the mask. The clone in blue stood to welcome me. He took my hand in his and kissed the back of it, and as he did I noted his hair was a light shade of blonde. 

“Captain Rex, at your service. But you can just call me Rex.” He flashed me the sweetest smile and my heart skipped a beat. I had known I was drinking with clones of the 501st, but it was now occurring to me that I was partying with the 501st. I should have realized it when Fives told me his name but it didn’t register till now. He was busy introducing everyone else at the table but I was too wrapped up in my own astonishment to listen. I didn’t need to. This was Captain Rex, Arc-Trooper Fives, Echo, Jesse, and their medic Kix. Their identifiers were unmistakable now that I was really looking at them. I had heard of these men in multiple briefings, but never had I seen them in person. Maybe I could be a little more relaxed with my mask tonight, since I don’t risk them knowing me.

“It’s an honor to be drinking with you all tonight,” I offered as thanks for the invite.

“Trust me, the honor is all ours tonight,” smirked Jesse. They all shifted, allowing for me to have space to sit down with them. I sat sandwiched between Fives and Jesse. Jesse’s cologne filled my senses and I desperately wanted to bury my face in his shirt and breathe deeply, but I exercised restraint. Echo and Kix went back to their arm wrestle and I sat swirling my drink in my hand, contemplating how far I was willing to let my guard down. I hadn’t noticed that Jesse had stretched his arm out behind me and was leaning in closer.

“That cowl looks hot and uncomfortable, you got a reason for wearing it?” He was pressing into me and my mind was going blank.

“R–religion. Can only take it off around trusted ones.” Which was mostly true.

“You don’t trust us?” He pouted jokingly.

Without a second thought I responded, “Of course I trust you guys, it's… others I don’t trust.” I gestured toward the jumping crowd of people.

“We can fix that, can’t we Captain?” Jesse nodded to Rex, who seemed to instinctively understand. He manipulated a button on a panel I had never noticed before and an opaque red curtain fell over the entrance to the booth alcove.

Fives spoke next, “Now you can get as comfortable as you want babe.”

I chewed my cheek for a moment as I contemplated it. 

Kriff it. I pulled the mask down and the hood. All eyes were on me as my hair fell loose and free and my face was revealed in full. Most were looking on in pure feral attraction, but one was fixed a little too intensely on my features. I could feel Echo eyeing me carefully, a question burning in his mind. I decided to pry.

“Something the matter?” I asked, turning to him and locking eyes with him.

“N-no. Nothing’s wrong.” He stammered.

“C’mon, you can tell me,” I pushed.

He licked his lower lip and leaned closer to me. “Why are you using the name Fours? We all know that isn’t your real name.”

My heart sank. Kriff. How could he recognize me? I opted to try the same trick on him that I had tried on Fives.

“Fours comes before Fives.” I throw him a wink and he stiffened while the whole table erupted in laughter.

“Leave it to Fives to find one that is even sassier than he is.” Kix joked as he took a shot. Fives narrowed his eyes at his brother while Kix just smiled into his drink. I reached out in the Force, sensing an unease. It was Echo. He wasn’t satisfied with my answer and I needed to know why. But for now I was going to enjoy my time with the boys in blue. I took a long sip of my spotchka, appreciating the warmth spreading through my extremities as I did so.

The night continued on with multitudes of topics of conversation, mostly trying to find out more about me. However I was expertly dodging every question and offering my own in return. I got them sharing war stories and barracks gossip and that was the end of their line of questioning.

“...and then I said I’ve never been with a Rodian before but I’ll try anything once!” Jesse finished his story and the table laughed.

“There is no way you fucked a Rodian,” I challenged him.

“I have proof if you don’t believ–” he moved to pull out his datapad and the whole table shouted “NO!”

“Alright alright, I believe you! I do NOT want to see that though.” I shuddered.

“Don’t have the stomach for the suction cups?” Joked Kix. I shook my head ‘no’ in response and laughed.

“What is the craziest thing you’ve done in bed, Fours?” Asked Rex. My face turned bright pink, and I no longer was hidden by my cowl. It wasn’t that I hadn’t done anything before, but there was no way I could tell the story without revealing what I am.

“Uhhh…” My brain was stalling out, I had nothing. All eyes were on me, and then Echo came to my rescue. He had just returned from the bar with another round and saw the look on my face. Echp placed the tray down and offered a hand to me.

“Apologies for the rudeness of my brothers. No one’s even offered to dance with you tonight.” He was looking at me with such intent. I knew I needed to accept his offer.

“You are absolutely right Echo!” I pulled my hood and mask back on as I stood and took Echo’s hand, making sure to walk a little extra seductively as the other clones looked on. We entered the dancefloor as another song was playing. I linked my arms around the back of Echo’s neck and pressed my hips against his as I started to move and grind. Instinctively, he placed his hands on my hips and began grinding with me. For the first time that night, he was relaxed with me. It didn’t last though, I pulled back a little to look into his golden eyes and his face dropped into a look of abject horror. He released my hips like I was hot metal and abandoned me on the dancefloor. I was dumbfounded and a little offended. I decided to pursue him through the crowd. He was hurrying along to the restrooms, but I managed to catch up as he went in and bolted the door behind me. I turned around to confront him but he was already on me. He pinned me to the door I had just locked and pulled my mask down. In the harsh light of the bathroom there was no hiding any feature of my face. 

“Commander...” Was all he said, and it felt as if the floor fell out from beneath me. He pushed off me with a grunt and began pacing the length of the restroom and anxiously running his hands through his hair I could feel the mixture of emotions coming off of him. I needed to put his mind at ease.

“E–Echo… I swear it’s not what you think.” I attempted to reassure him but he turned to face me with a wild look in his eye.

“It isn’t? So you aren’t in disguise? In a nightclub? Seducing clones?” His words were harsh, but true.

“I’ll have you know I haven’t hooked up with a single clone!” I attempted to defend myself. He was breathing so hard, I could see his chest rising and falling even from this distance. I decided to throw caution to the wind since I was already screwed. “How did you know who I was?”

“General Shaak Ti has a picture in her quarters back in Tipoca City. Fives and I used to end up there a alot… You’re in the photo.”

“Do the others know?” I asked, feeling my stomach twist.

“No. It’s not my place to tell them,” he stated plainly. I felt a surge of comfort. The last thing this clone wanted to do is rat me out.

“Is… is it your place to tell the council?”

“What?! No! I would never.” He responded, sounding almost offended.

I took a deep breath, feeling my nerves ease exponentially. He wasn’t going to turn me in, thank the maker. But then that begged the question, why was he still looking like he’s about to pass out?

“Echo?” I asked cautiously.

“Yes?” He asked, sounding as dissheveled as he looked.

I hesitated for a moment, debating if I wanted the answer to this question or not. “Why are you so concerned about my being a Jedi if you aren’t going to turn me in?”

He gripped the bathroom counter so hard his knuckles turned white. My heart was racing waiting for his answer. I was staring at him, my bottom lip between my teeth. He looked back at me and answered finally, “Because… you’re a Jedi.”

“And?” The question came out more flirtatious than I intended.

He took a shaky breath and a step toward me, “And… I’m a clone…”

The entire situation came to light, my body moved without permission. Closing the distance further. “And?” My words were breathy and low.

“It’s…” The distance closed between us and he brushed a hand along my bare arm. I shivered and keened into his touch. “It’s…” he said once more, his eyes fixed hungrily on me.

“It’s?” I teased, lacing my fingers into his hair.

“Forbidden.” He finally managed. The word lit a fire inside me. Like the reminder of how wrong all of this was made me want it more. I pressed closer to him and his hands found my hips. Our lips were close but still just barely touching, and I wanted so desperately to close the distance.

I whispered into his mouth, “Only if we get caught.” 

A groan came from his throat and that was all the push he needed. His mouth was hot against mine. His kisses were more delicious than I could have imagined. It was sweet, despite the alcohol, and laced with a neediness that I felt down to my core. His hands moved down my legs and he lifted me so my legs wrapped around his waist. He carried me to the very bathroom counter he had been clinging to moments before, his mouth never leaving mine. He set me down on the counter and his lips left mine for a moment too long. I pulled at the fistful of hair I had in hand and exposed his neck. My mouth moved expertly along his thick, muscular neck. I bit into a soft spot right under his jaw and he moaned. His hips attempted to grind into me, but he was still wearing his cod piece. I moved to remove it, but he caught my wrists before I could finish my task. His eyes were fixed on mine, and he looked feral and seductive this way. 

“I want to taste you first.” Before I could finish nodding yes to his statement, he was already sinking to his knees. My dress had ridden up my legs when he had carried me so all that he had to do to reach my wetness was remove my panties. He carefully pulled them down my legs and off. He pocketed them with a smirk and spread my legs wider to get a better look at the arousal dripping from my pussy. He licked his lips at the sight and licked through the folds, swirling and sucking at the swelling bundle of nerves. I tipped my head back and moaned his name. This spurred him on further, beginning to eat my pussy like I was the most delicious meal he had ever tasted. I was already coming undone from his mouth when he added a finger. He tenderly sunk the digit into my opening and curled it against my favorite spot. I spasmed under his touch and he smiled against my pussy as he began to pump his finger in and out.

“F–fuck…Echo…ahh… more. Want more.” I begged between gasps. I wanted him to fill me, stretch me out. He obliged my pleading, sinking another finger into my wetness. The sounds pouring from my mouth were obscene. A series of curses and moans as I grinded against his tongue.

“D-don’t stop… gonna cum…make me cum…” my moans and pleas were echoing throughout the restroom. He added one more finger and I felt the stretch I desperately wanted. I lost all control of my body as he brought me closer and closer.

“I’m cumming. Fuck! I’m cum-cumming…” I screamed as the sensation surged through my veins. He pushed me over that edge and worked me through it. Once the clenching throb of my pussy walls subsided he pulled his fingers from me and licked them clean. He stood and pressed another searing kiss to my lips, but now he tasted of me. I broke away slightly.

“Fuck me,” I whispered against his mouth. I was still riding the high of my orgasm, but I needed him inside me. He didn’t say a word. Instead he began removing his codpiece, letting it clatter to the floor once it was detached. He pulled out his throbbing cock and fisted it a few times.

“Turn around,” he commanded, “I want you to watch yourself get fucked by me.” His words made me even wetter. I hopped off the counter, legs still fairly weak, and turned around to face the mirror. He pressed me down against the counter so my ass was on full display. Echo kneaded the round flesh as he dragged his tip through my wetness. Then he was pushing in, slowly, splitting me open on his cock. I did as he asked and watched the mirror as he sank into my pussy. My eyes looked fucked out and my hair was in a disarray but I couldn’t care less. He buried himself inside me completely, and sat there for a moment. Once I had adjusted to the feeling he began to move. He was being painfully slow and cautious with me.

“That the best you got, trooper?” I teased, using his title to remind him of the taboo act we were committing. I felt his dick pulse inside me and I knew I had gotten the desired effect. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and leaned over me so he could look in my eyes through the mirror.

“I was going to take it easy on you, Commander. But if you want to be fucked like the dirty slut you are…” He pulled his hips back and slammed them into me with immense force, using his hold on my hair to keep me in place. “Then who am I to say no?”

Echo’s pace picked up, and he continued fucking into me with no mercy. I was certain that my pussy would be bruised in the morning, and maker help me, that’s exactly what I wanted. We were not quiet. Moaning loudly, his hips slapping against my ass. I shut my eyes for a moment and he grabbed my face to make me look back into the mirror.

“You’re such a pretty little Jedi slut. Watch as I fuck you so hard you won’t be able to remember your own name.” He commanded.

“Yes, sir.” I moaned. 

“Fuck… I’m gonna cum…” 

A devious thought creeped into my mind and I couldn’t help myself, “Cum inside me, fill me up Echo.”

“I–I shouldn’t. T–too wrong. T–taboo.” He was deliriously close.

“Then fuck me right up to your orgasm, please Echo…” I begged innocently.

He didn’t respond, he just kept fucking into my pussy. Chasing his orgasm. I knew he wanted to cum inside me, he just didn’t want to admit it. I reached out with the force, as he got closer I readied myself. Then it came, his hips began to stutter and he moved to pull out. I pushed him back into me with the force and he screamed out my actual name as he climaxed. He collapsed over my body, gasping for air.

“Did you do that?” He asked once his senses began to come back to him. He pulled his softening cock from my leaking hole and I turned to face him. I smiled sweetly.

“Are you mad?” I asked, nuzzling against his nose.

He groaned, “Not even slightly. Just shocked you would use the force in such a… perverted way.” He helped adjust my dress, but refused to give back my panties. “Think of it as my proof that I fucked a Jedi.” He smirked and pressed one last sweet kiss to my lips. Before leaving the bathroom ahead of me. Instead of immediately returning to the booth, I opted to get a quick shot at the bar. My head was spinning from the encounter with Echo and I felt like it was evident on my face. I needed something to counteract that.

Chapter 2 | Masterlist | AO3

[aroaceleovaldez]

Hi, i was looking on multiple websites and i couldnt find any specific camp halfblood scedules for all the demigods, or at least none of them matched up to each other.

Do you have a version or even your own idea of how the days work? ( bcs ur ideas are usually pretty good lol)

Thanks!

My interpretation of it was always that each demigod has an individual schedule, probably tailored to their specific training needs and if they're a year-round camper or summer-only and whatever else may play into that. So each camper would get an individual schedule. I also generally presume that campers will generally have similar or the same schedules as their siblings within their cabin, like for example all the Apollo kids may go to archery together, all the Demeter kids may go to pegasus riding, etc etc.

Adding a read-more here cause this got very long - Beyond this point, here there be lists from canon of camp activities:

So we know some of the general activities available that they might participate in. Percy goes over a couple in Sea of Monsters:

And in PJO: The Ultimate Guide (ghostwritten by Mary-Jane Knight, fun fact!) we also get Percy's camp schedule over the course of a week (only weekdays - presumably campers get the weekends off). I can't get a scan of it currently, but his schedule includes (roughly verbatim) (it uses military time which i don't feel like translating right now cause I'm too dyslexic):

Breakfast and cabin inspection (Every morning 8-9)

Ancient Greek (Every morning 9-10:30)

Lunch prep (Monday), Store checks (Tuesday), Cleaning stables (Weds), Picking strawberries (Thurs), Polishing armor (Fri) (10:30-11)

Archery (Mon), Javelin throwing (Tues), Sword skills (Weds), Monster assault techniques (Thurs), Pegasus riding (Fri) (11-Noon)

Greek mythology (Every day 12-12:30)

Lunch (12:30-13:30)

Weapon-making (Mon), Ride the rapids (Tues), Tracking skills (Weds), Wrestling (Thurs), Volleyball (Fri) (13:30-15:30)

Letters home (Mon), Cabin clean-up (Tues), Laundry (Weds), Wood-chopping (Thurs), Firework-making (Fri) (15:30-17:00)

Free time (17:00-18:00)

Dinner (18:00-19:00)

Volleyball league (Mon), Unarmed combat (Tues), Archery knockout (Weds), Trials of strength (Thurs), Capture the flag (Friday) (19:00-21:00)

Campfire singalong (21:00-22:00)

There are notes as well that: Cabin inspections are carried out by senior camp counselors in rotation (which we've seen in the books), Ancient Greek and Greek Mythology are taught by Chiron and Annabeth, Sword-fighting is in the arena, Weapon-making is at the forge with the Hephaestus cabin, Archery is taught by Chiron (which again we know from the books - see the excerpt from SoM), Wrestling is with Clarisse, and Dog-handling (not featured above) is with Mrs. O'Leary.

Based on what we know from the books, it seems like the post-dinner activities are general for all campers and are slightly more opt-in. Maybe it's a matter of campers are encouraged to participate in at least one after-dinner activity a week, but if they don't wish to they can just spectate instead. I'm presuming the activities immediately before free time/dinner are also shared by all campers, probably in rotation though so that hopefully all of CHB isn't doing their laundry at once. I'm also going to presume that certain campers may do certain activities significantly more often than others, again based on their specific training needs - like, I imagine "ride the rapids" is probably usually a Percy-specific activity. Other campers may also participate in it, but Percy may have it on his schedule much more regularly.

And we know from other misc. books and Percy's progress report (also from the old Rick Riordan website) some other general camp activities include:

Music lessons (taught by Woodrow the satyr, at least as of TOA)

Chariot racing

Footraces (and one-legged races, in TOA)

Of course, as mentioned previously, rock-climbing (at the lava-wall)

Border patrol (again mentioned in the SoM screenshot - we know it somewhat fell out of practice after TLO due to the Golden Fleece strengthening Thalia's pine, which in turn strengthened the camp borders, and since there was no longer an active war it wasn't as needed, but presumably campers will still do it, or at least maybe Chiron will make the rounds.)

Washing dishes (in lava) (they get gloves, don't worry) (Usually carried out by the cleaning harpies, but may be assigned as punishment)

Gardening (presumably mostly in the strawberry fields)

Some campers are implied to have specific individual jobs, such as Will being camp medic and implied to be in charge of the infirmary. Also presumably someone is manning the camp store (I can't recall if it's canon or not that the Stolls are/were in charge of that but I just always say that they are cause it just feels right). And for awhile "generally taking care of Mrs. O'Leary" seemed to be a specific camp job that Beckendorf and Percy usually did.

According to Sea of Monsters and Sea of Monsters only, allegedly there are just. Normal horses in CHB. So taking care of them and also general riding lessons with them are presumably also in the schedule somewhere, unless that's a job for the nymphs and satyrs.

Alongside ancient Greek it's implied the campers are also potentially given Latin lessons. Presumably also taught by Chiron, given he was a Latin teacher.

It's also implied that CHB has some form of year-round schooling available for the year-round campers. So their usual camp activities may begin to lean heavily into more standard classes during camp's off-season.

And then there's this example schedule from the old Rick Riordan website:

Hope this helps!

[tenleaguesbeneath]

some musings toward hacking together a system to run my home games

combat engine wise, I'm drawn to either one-roll (well, maybe more like one+each rolls, where you roll once to determine the outcome of the whole combat and then each player rolls to determine personal consequences) or a puzzle combat system where rather than the enemy's defenses adding up to give it an armor class that you roll against, each one is a real thing.

Like, for instance, a knight in articulated plate with a zweihander would have a reach advantage (explicitly: you can't get close enough to use your weapons against him because he'll cut you up and push you back) and the armor protects all areas except for gaps too small to be practical to hit while he's up and moving, especially at range, and those are real in the game system. Rather than AC just he no-sells your attacks until you figure out a way to negate those advantages.

At the same time I want something more concrete and real than PbtA stuff does. I like the illusion that the narrative isn't just the GM and players saying stuff, that there's something concrete under it that the rules govern, that successes and failures are the result of interactions with the world and the mechanics rather than something the GM hands out. I like strings though, strings are good. I'm particularly thinking about thydungeonguy's recent posts about systems where the different parts (social interaction and combat) all play in to each other, with a shared metacurrency between combat and non-combat encounters.

I've had a little experience with Torchbearer and there's a lot I'd borrow from it and a lot I wouldn't. I like the grind. Honestly I'd want to take some of the emphasis away from the Conflict engine it has (in particular how you can basically never get enough Checks to rest properly without conflicts); just making plain dungeon crawling arduous is good. But I think I'd still want an OSR-style turn system over Torchbearer's.

Explicitly tracking characters' emotional states (like Torchbearer does, with Angry and Afraid as status conditions) is good.

I'm especially thinking of this in conjunction with psionics, and in particular this twitter thread about psionic archetypes and how D&D gets them wrong. Since I'm lately playing sci-fi psionic stuff that's on my mind.

I want some degree of random character generation, though stars without number's thing of making that optional but then giving an expectation value somewhat higher than opting out (three rolls vs two picks for background skills, or the raise option if you roll stats 3d6 in order). Not sure how much compatibility with D&D I want; that'd be a nice-to-have though. Honestly, what I like from random character generation is having a process to go through to meet your character, rather than just creating someone tailor-made, and don't like characters who are entirely optimized around doing one thing well. The random boons after you pick your class in On A Red World Alone are good, although I like the option for a random class which that system doesn't have.

Likewise, I want progression to be a mix of organic and player-guided. I don't want you to plot out a build from first to max level and have all that set in stone before play begins. At the same time there is something appealing about being able to quickly generate NPCs with just class and level. Tough needle to thread. I'm not sure I even like classes for anything else. but also adventuring gets you seriously injured and you may have to retire due to that.

I also don't want high-level characters to be godlike and I don't even necessarily want them to be rich. Being the best there is at what you do but having whatever wealth you gain go as quickly as you get it is a staple story.

[stingslikeabee]

🖤 + Genesis/Melissa (It may be early but I'm curious!)

send ‘🖤 + pairing’ for me to answer the following . accepting

1) my muse’s initial impression of yours A dream, an hallucination, a perfect illusion - Melissa genuinely needed a moment to realize she wasn't seeing things because Genesis is so coded to some fairytale tropes that her inner child (the one who wanted to be on the stage to play these magical roles) couldn't believe what she was seeing for a moment there.

2) my muse’s favorite physical attribute of yours It's hard - Genesis as a whole is just delightful to gaze at, like he was sculptured with care and almost tailor-made to her preferences - but if Melissa had to name one thing, she would go for his eyes (they have a life of their own, electric as if some current is always passing through, as well as incredibly expressive). Later on, Melissa grows to be very protective and fond of his scars - she hates it caused him suffering, but they also make him a survivor and a hero in her eyes.

3) my muse’s favorite personality attribute of yours His charisma - Genesis is someone so insanely fascinating to watch, listen to and just be in the presence of that Melissa never tires of being a witness to it. She enjoys being the target of it just as much as seeing him reel others to do his bidding - at some point, she grows aware of the way he used her to his own purposes... But she simply doesn't care anymore; such is the extent of his skill in relation to corrupting her.

4) a moment that made my muse realize how much they care about yours The time when Genesis disclosed that he hadn't been intimate with another for a long, long time - and that stunned Melissa because she just assumed that someone with his powers and looks surely would never be lonely. But he was - and his frankness about it rather than covering it up (and then later revealing his true appearance without the influence of a glamor) turned the woman into someone acutely aware that she cared for his feelings, his goals and ensuring he wouldn't suffer again.

5) something my muse never found the words to say to yours Nothing - even Melissa's internal questions re. the 'why', 'how' or mostly everything about Genesis' origins and their meeting gets to be asked eventually, and either he answers truthfully or in a way that she believes it to be true. At some point, she doesn't feel like she needs to hide or refrain from telling him anything.

6) something my muse wishes they had never said to yours There were discussions and arguments every now and then - mostly at the beginning and when they were getting acquainted. Not every decision from Genesis was what Melissa expected; some calls were strange and felt (to her) to be counterproductive and the fact that he was catching up with the times created uneasiness - she regrets the times she implied he had lied to her (funnily enough, that was the case sometimes - Genesis was not sincere 100% of the time).

7) something your muse does that makes mine feel safe The very obvious protective behavior - one would assume it started because Melissa is the bearer of the amulet, and without her any chances of being freed/liberated would evaporate; but I do think she just ignores the practical aspect in favor of the way he is almost like a knight in shining armor keeping his beloved safe from harm. There is a lot about the way Genesis simply is that ticks specific boxes of her younger, dreamy self, really.

8) something your muse does that makes mine smile His sense of humor, the acerbic wit, the flair for dramatics - oh, Genesis is never boring and Melissa riots at his side. There is never a dull (or silent) moment with him, particularly in public and it's just entertaining 24/7. It's very, very hard for Melissa to stay serious with his whispering commentary, to be honest.

9) something my muse wants to protect yours from Whatever caused the scars and the marks that she eventually gets to see (and memorize). Although Genesis largely manipulates Melissa and hides a good part of the truth until she's gone full dark side and turned into a loyal supporter, it doesn't change the fact that he endured considerable horrors - and the notion of someone who protects her being harmed is very frightening. It's not as if she can do much - she's not a deity or anything; but there is a lingering need to try and keep him safe from these who dared make him be ashamed of who he is.

10) ways my muse says ‘i love you’ without saying those words The way she touches him, looks at him, absolutely indulges his whims and eventually tries so hard to succeed not only because she wants it (to be a big star, to make a dream come true) but because it's important to Genesis, too. There is a lot about Melissa's confidence that blooms under his tutelage - he might have cast a spell or two along the way, but she did have potential and there is just so much Melissa achieved, realized and felt that the gratitude is bound to be overflowing at some point. It's just irresistible, really - maybe she says it, maybe she doesn't; but there is an undeniable element of worship.