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frostsinth · 4 years ago

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Royal Flush - Pt. 1

The prologue to this story can be found HERE. I plan to redo/redesign the picture at some point. UPDATE: Redid the picture HERE

A new story (because fuck me, that’s why). This time between a Goblin King, and a young human Prince. Something new and fresh I hope you will all fancy. And hopefully a line up for another fic I have planned for the future.

As always, please visit my MasterList to see my other works, and feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you are there. If you have any prompts, ideas, thoughts, or insane ramblings, I love to hear from you. Please send me all the notes, tags, asks, or DMs your little hearts desire.

Enjoy!

“… Nikostratus, I… I know you are ...conflicted,” He started, and I felt my blood run hot again at his words, “But that is no reason-”

“My life is doomed to misery, regardless of what end,” I snapped at him, anger lacing every word, cutting him off, “… At least this way, Morgana will have a chance at finding happiness.”

He fell silent, his face a mask of horror, and I turned back to face the Goblin King. Stepping forward, I placed one arm over my chest, then bent at the waist. Bowing deeply to him.

“Your Majesty, I agree to your proposal.”

“I am humbled, and honored,” The Goblin King replied, and I could hear the smirk in his voice, even as I kept my eyes on the ground beneath me. “Come, we can discuss the details further in my private study… alone.”

I stiffened slightly at his request. But realized that the word he stressed was less suggestive and more… cold? As I slowly raised from my bow, I saw his scarlet eyes glaring harshly over my shoulder. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck prickling, and tightened my jaw. Resisting the urge to look back at my guard. Knowing now exactly whom that tone had been for and not imagining I would enjoy the expression waiting behind me.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

The King gestured for me to follow him, leading the way across the floor to a door set into the side of the great chamber. With my will steeled, I followed after. If Gareth attempted to follow as well, I did not know. Nor what would become of him, left alone upon my exit with the Goblin King. And with the anger at his words still hot in my blood at that moment, I didn’t care.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I tried not to mumble as he held the door open for me.

“Please, call me Grier. Assuming all goes well, we are to be married soon, after all.” I couldn’t help but wince at the word, and my mouth felt dry. I saw his scarlet eyes flicker to me at their corners. “And what are you comfortable with being called, Your Highness?”

I hesitated, unable to resist flinching ever so slightly as the door clunked closed behind us. “My name is Nikostratus, if it pleases you, Your Majesty.”

“Grier.” He corrected, and led the way down the smaller side hallway. I hardly took notice of my surroundings, feeling hollow and numb. “And it matters not if it pleases me. It is your name, no? Though I will admit it is a bit of a mouthful.”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure how to answer. The weight of it all was suddenly dropping onto me, and I felt my palms clasped behind my back growing sweaty. I swallowed, tightening my jaw. There was still much to discuss before the arrangement could be finalized. I had to keep my head level, for the sake of my people. I could not let the goblins take more than an inch in negotiations. Couldn’t let myself be razzled by whatever life I had just signed myself up for. It was entirely possible that had been his intent! Perhaps the entire ‘marriage’ would be an endless attempt to manipulate me into breaking; to gain the upper hand. Just how far would a goblin be willing to go for one of their pranks? An arranged marriage certainly didn’t seem out of that scope. Would it lead up to the ceremony? Beyond?

“Do you have any other names you like to go by?” He pressed, opening a grand carved oak door and standing back to allow me to enter first. I stiffened, but nodded appreciatively and stepped past him as quickly as I could. “A nickname? Or perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I choose a term of endearment for you?” His voice was light and teasing, but it made a chill run down my spine. “Perhaps ‘sweetheart’ or ‘dear’. I have always liked the term ‘pet’, though I believe it would be ill suited for our… situation.”

I swallowed hard again, grinding my teeth quietly as I stopped before the grand desk in the room. I turned my head slightly to watch him saunter around to the other side after closing the large door behind himself.

“I prefer Nikostratus.” I hoped my voice didn’t sound too dry.

His crooked smirk didn’t lighten the burden of my nerves, nor allow me any relief from the notion this whole mess was simply some ploy. Some elaborate goblin mischief. But he didn’t sit in the ornate chair behind the desk as I had anticipated. Instead, he gathered up an inkwell, a handful of quills, and a roll of parchment and brought it over to the overly plush chairs set before the grand fireplace of the room.

I used that moment to take stock of the study for the first time since entering. It was large, with tall stone bookshelves filled to bursting with old tomes. The smell of their ancient parchment as well as the smoke from the fire in the large fireplace suffused the room. There were assorted knick knacks dotting every available surface, from a golden astrolabe to a pristinely painted globe and even a silver sundial propped against one wall. Aside from the huge desk and plush pair of armchairs, there was a small marble table before the fire, and a silver cart piled with various shaped decanters and glasses. The entire room was disheveled and cluttered, with heaps of parchments and quills strewn about, tomes left half opened with numerous different things from ribbons to dried flowers tucked between their pages, and the evidence of projects started but never completed.

The study was also vehemently colored, with no two fabrics matching another. There were glittering crystalline mobiles and diagrams and draped scarves dangling from the rafters. Various pillows in different shapes, colors, and sizes pooled off the armchairs onto the floor which was covered with several overlapping carpets that absolutely had no unifying color scheme. It was overwhelming, and I couldn’t help but cast an apprehensive eye about as he settled in one of the two chairs facing each other.

“Are you hungry?” He offered, simply sweeping whatever had been on the small marble table onto the floor with a clatter to make space for his parchment and quills. “Perhaps some tea? I believe I have heard humans like tea.”

It took me a breath to realize he had spoken to me. When his red eyes lifted to my face, I straightened sharply, but shook my head.

“No, Your Majesty, thank you.”

He scoffed, waving one green skinned hand. “Grier.” He corrected me again. “Now sit. We have much to discuss if we want to have a proper marriage contract drawn up tonight.”

I let out my breath slowly between tight lips. I could do this. Write up a marriage contract. A peace contract, rather. I knew how to negotiate. How to write contracts. And I needed to make sure the terms were in my kingdom’s best interest. Slowly, I walked over, glancing down at the plush chair facing his briefly before lowering myself into it. I sat at the very edge so as not to disturb the large quantity of odd shaped pillows there. This would be easier if I just was careful not to remember it was my marriage contract.

“Now then, down to business,” He drew up his quill, scribbling a long, over flourished sentence at the top of the parchment. “And I would urge you to speak your mind here, my young Prince. We must be able to forgo formalities and niceties if we are to complete a formidable and agreeable contract.” He dabbed a note. “As discussed, removal of my soldiers from your kingdom is first.”

I nodded, eyeing him as his long fingers deftly maneuvered the quill into forming short, neat little letters. “We will need to redefine the borders between the two kingdoms as well.”

One thin eyebrow raised, and he glanced up at me through pale lashes. “However do you mean?”

I placed my hands on my knees, back still ramrod straight. “The skirmishes over the last decade have allowed disputed territories to fall into your control. We would need them returned.” I cocked my head ever so slightly to the side. “As a sign of your good faith.”

He tsked, but seemed amused. “You will find I have treated your citizens quite admirably while they were beneath my occupation.” His quill scratched across the page. “Perhaps they may not wish to return.”

I paused, but decided it was just an effort on his part to get a rise out of me. “Never-the-less… They will be returned. And our borders will become defined and respected.”

A soft ‘hrumph’, and he leaned back in his chair, re-reading what he had just written. “Very well… though perhaps I was under the misinformation that our kingdoms would become united with our marriage? Forming into one?”

I resisted the urge to flinch at his words, feeling my knuckles clench slightly with the effort. “A kingdom cannot have two Kings. Royal marriages unify countries, but they do not become a single kingdom. Borders are open, allowing for trade and travel ease for citizens, as well as lower taxes for goods produced.” My voice sounded hollow and distant, even to my own ears. “There is also the expectation of allied forces, should a conflict arise for either kingdom.”

“My kingdom will.” He mused, penning a note.

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Have two Kings,” He glanced up at me, his crooked smirk forming again, “My Kingdom will. Unless I have your future title wrong. Would you perhaps remain a Prince by human customs?”

I felt heat rising around the edge of the collar of my shirt. “The title is not important.”

The goblin sat up taller in his seat. “It is important.” He insisted. “I want to be sure you, as well as your people, are comfortable with all terms of this contract. These are terms of peace, not surrender.”

Then why doesn’t it feel that way? I wondered quietly, but otherwise didn’t comment further. Clamping my lips shut. I reminded myself again why I was doing this; for my people. For Morgana. He waited for me to speak for a moment, his red eyes locked on my face. For my part, I made a point to focus on the fireplace.

“Alright,” He relented finally, impatient, “You tell me. What title would you have? If this was a contract between humans, hm?” He twirled the quill nimbly between his fingers. “I want to be sure to use the proper terms, so there is no confusion.”

My hands slowly curled into fists on my knees. “The title is not important.”

He sighed impatiently. “Oh come now. If it’s not important, then it should be simple enough to answer, yes?” He twirled the quill again, and my eyes darted to it from their corners. “If this was a marriage contract between a human Prince and a human King, upon their marriage, what title-”

“There is no such thing,” I snapped, cutting him off as my temper flared, “Of a marriage between a Prince and a King. It does not matter what title you choose, the concept is abhorrent to my people, and the marriage will never-” I stopped short, closing my eyes and slowly letting my breath out through my nose. “...While it will be accepted as a valid and legally binding contract of peace… It will never be accepted as a true marriage.”

A tense silence stretched between us, and for a long moment, I feared I had ruined everything. That he would no longer feel an arranged marriage between us would hold the same weight. I felt the sinking dread that the loss of my temper had doomed my sweet little sister. Or perhaps my entire kingdom. For certainly such a slight would never have been permitted in our court. A proposed marriage contract that was not a recognized marriage? Unacceptable. I sat with my eyes closed, my lips in a tight line, trying to steady my breathing. To regain my composure.

“... If I have misjudged you,” He began slowly, his previous arrogance and teasing gone from his tone, “... Or if I have been misinformed as to your… preferences...” I may have winced at the words, but I was clenched far too tight to notice “-We do not have to go forward with this contract. I will not sign anything without the clear consent of both parties.”

I slowly opened my eyes, keeping them firmly focused on the table beside me. Not daring to lift my gaze to his, though I felt his own boring into my skull. He sat silently, perhaps expecting an answer. But I did not have the strength to give it just yet. My fists were clenched so tight they were nearly white. For all his words… he didn’t seem to understand. There were no other options for me. We had to go forward with this contract. For the sake of everything I held dear. And yet, to do so meant … I struggled to keep my growing emotions in check.

“... I will expect this to be a marriage,” He informed me after the brief pause, his tone growing harsh, almost angry, “With all things that come with that. Including its consummation.” I did wince now, and internally kicked myself for doing so. “And I will not enter into a marriage where I am required to rape my partner-”

“Enough.” I boldly cut him off again, shaking my head. My voice quivering with my own anger at his vulgar yet casual language regarding such an intimate topic.

He paused again, giving me another moment to take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. His voice, when he did speak again, was flat, but firm. And I recognized its authoritative nature. I was reminded again why this man, short of all his other faults and no matter his species, was a King of a powerful people.

“Am I wrong, Prince Nikostratus, in my judgement of you?”

I felt as a child, being scolded by their elder, and my throat was dry for that sake alone. I would have to admit it, I realized. I would have to admit it out loud, for the first time in my life. I would have to face a reality I had consigned myself to deny and carry with me to my grave. I was a Prince, after all. And a secondborn Prince at that. I would never have the power or freedom to act as I wanted; I would always be held to the responsibility of my station. The necessities of my kingdom. And despite everything, despite the deep longing I had always held to be able to love whomever I wished… I found my lips faltering to form the words.

Part of me believed it was a trick still. Some long, drawn out plan of humiliation. Of shame. Of deceit meant to ruin my honor and reputation among my people. To expose me to my family. I felt the familiar rage bubbling up inside me, and clenched my jaw in an effort to quell it. All the while, I felt his red eyes still staring at me. Waiting for the answer I had prepared myself never to give.

“... Make no mistake, Your Majesty,” I began slowly, my voice soft but hard, “If there is one thing I am sure of in this world… it is that I love my little sister with every fiber of my being. And I would do everything in my power to protect her from the evils of this world.” Carefully, I raised my gaze to meet his. “Whatever face that may take.” He opened his mouth, but I jerked my hand sharply up to keep him from speaking, lest I lose my nerve. “I understand what I am agreeing to. I understand fully what will be... expected of me. And whatever my… “ I dropped off, struggling to find what I wanted to say. I winced at the first word that came to mind, for I hated it most of all. But spat it out bitterly none-the-less. “... conflictions may be, I enter this contract with full consent. I beg your indulgence that this is enough for you for now.”

I was proud that I never broke eye contact with him as I spoke. His startlingly red eyes watched me unblinkingly, and even as I finished, he stared. Turning my words over in his head. I felt sweat beading at the base of my neck, but maintained his gaze. Stubbornly resisting the urge to turn away or drop my eyes from his.

“If I hear what you’re saying in regards to your people,” He returned finally, and I let out a little gust of air I didn’t know I had been holding, “Then I can hardly blame you for struggling to… accept our situation, such as it is.” He drummed his fingertips on the arm of his chair. “But you are sure? Once we move forward with this contract, there will be no turning back.”

I nodded without hesitation, and I saw his smirk return to the corners of his mouth. “I am sure.”

“You will be King Consort, then,” He replied, picking up his quill again, “As is the custom for my people.” He scribbled a few lines quickly before continuing. “Your authority will be more or less equal to mine, but the difference in title allows for differentiation when referring to us.” His long nose twitched as his smirk returned to its full strength. “Pronouns can be tricky in such situations.”

“...I can imagine” I said dryly, finally letting my gaze drop.

“And since you are sure, perhaps we should move on to the more domestic qualities of the contract, yes? Now, how many children?”

I blinked stupidly, my eyes jumping back up to him in surprise. “...Eh?”

“How many children?” His voice was light and cheery, and I saw the mischievous glint in his eyes that left me quite annoyed. “I’ve always wanted a large family, but I am flexible on the matter.”

“...You’re joking.”

“Hardly.” He twirled the quill again. “As King, I am expected to provide an heir. There are several options available to us, but it is best we make these decisions now. Just to be certain we are on the same page and have the same expectations. It avoids arguments down the line.”

I struggled to keep my composure, and saw his smirk grow by a few molars at the sight. “What… what are the options?”

“Well, we could adopt, of course.” He mused, tapping one long finger against his angular chin. “Or we could hire a surrogate.”

“Surrogate?” I echoed, dumb founded. I had never heard of such a term before.

He nodded, eyes shimmering with delight. “Yes! A female to carry our offspring. Typically of good stock; the screening process is quite vigorous. We can each lay with her and let the die be cast in whatever way it may land. Or, with your consent, I will impregnate her-”

“Wh-whichever.” I blurted quickly, feeling my face growing hot. I hated how easily he managed to keep me off balanced, and each slip of my composure left me feeling guiltier than the last and more determined to maintain it.

“Ah, but then there is of course the magical route.” He continued, almost gleefully ignoring my reaction to the less savory parts of the second option which had the blush rising to my cheekbones despite my efforts.

“The… the what?”

“The magical route.” He repeated, steepling his hands together with a grin. “A simple, temporary spell that allows one of us to impregnate the other and carry our progeny to term-”

“You’re making that up!” I snapped despite myself, feeling my face flush even more.

He pretended to look much more appalled than I was certain he was. “I would never! Producing an heir is a very important matter which I take with the utmost seriousness!”

I struggled again to return to the stoic face of a stately Prince I had perfected over the course of my life. But his words had my thoughts reeling, and I couldn’t help my mouth dropping open slightly. Looking pleased with himself, he stood, walking over to the cart of drinks.

“I am parched. Would you like something? Or I can send for tea if you prefer?”

I managed to close my mouth, staring at the seat he had vacated for a long moment. I heard the clinking of glass, and cleared my suddenly dry throat.

“...Brandy. If you have it.” I rasped, my voice strained.

His laughter was almost melodic, and I heard the continued clinks as he dolled out a second glass. “Excellent choice, my young Prince.” He purred, returning with both drinks in hand. “I see we are a perfect match on that front.”

I took the glass numbly, sniffing the amber liquid instinctually. I was surprised to find it seemed of higher quality, and sipped it experimentally. Grier took his seat once more, crossing one leg over the top of the other.

“Now, which method do you prefer?” He mused, taking a sip from his own glass.

I nearly choked on my second sip, and sputtered momentarily. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye to see his crooked grin. I shook my head, swallowing the burning liquid.

“...Umm, wh-whichever.” I almost winced at the improperness of my stuttering speech, gritting my teeth.

He raised one slender eyebrow, smirking. “Even the third? I hear it is quite the experience.”

I took another hurried sip of the brandy. “...Maybe not that one.”

He laughed again, and I felt my ears burning. I turned, focusing on the fire, watching the flames lick and pop. Trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes on me. Trying to distance myself from the idea of raising children of all things with this creature sat across from me. He’s just trying to get a rise from you, I told myself. Always, constantly. Poking and prodding. Trying to gain the upper hand in negotiations. Amused by my discomfort.

“We’ll write a ‘to be determined’ for now.” He declared, picking up the quill once more. “But we’ll discuss it again later.”

I snuck a peek at him while he wrote, studying him out the corner of my eye. His wild hair fell about his sharp features, and the way the light hit his green-grey skin it seemed almost warm to the eye. I found myself wondering at the thought of spending a life with him. Wondered what it would be like beyond this room. Beyond this evening. I took another steadying sip of brandy, pretending my hand wouldn’t be shaking if it hadn’t held the glass.

“How many then?” He pressed, glancing up at me. “I believe six is a good number. Even, but manageable. Yes?”

I looked down at the amber liquid in my hands. “I-I…” I dropped off, shaking my head, steadying my voice, “I had never thought about it.”

“Why ever not?” He quipped, dipping the tip to scribble another note.

I didn’t answer him, but felt my brow furrow. Of course, the real reason was because I had never expected to be able to choose. Had never expected to be married, and if I was, I would be grateful to be able to conceive at all. My marriage prospects had always been slim; the likelihood was of me being paired with a widowed partner whose late husband’s lands were in dispute, or an elderly monarch whose wealth would be our greatest asset. Whatever would best benefit the Kingdom. It didn’t matter the partner, not like my older brother’s, just what she would bring to the table. Therefore, planning children had simply never really been a thought of mine. And now that it was? I wasn’t sure what to think of it. Had no basis for what I wanted. Had no basis for what would be expected of me as a parent, nor how I would feel being so fully responsible for another life. My lips tightened, and I found myself at a loss for words again.

“Hmmm. Six it is then. But we’ll see where the tides take us when the time comes.” I almost sighed with relief that he let the matter go. A few more soft scratches. “Alright, lovers is next on my list.”

Again, I sputtered, nearly choking on the brandy halfway down my throat. “Lovers??”

He nodded, looking up at me with a coy twist on his thin lips. “Yes. Traditionally, human Kings take lovers I believe. But goblins tend to be monogamous in marriage, unless previously agreed before the ceremony. Do you wish to be allowed to take lovers?”

Again, it was simply not something I had ever considered. Nor had the foggiest notion of how to approach. Certainly it was not a concept boldly discussed in any capacity, regardless of the fact that it was common knowledge. High society dictated such things be carefully and politely ignored. Not discussed over a marriage contract. He waited, tapping his finger against the quill. Watching my face. I swore he was enjoying himself.

I shook my head. “I… I have no desire to…” I cleared my throat, then shook my head again.

He leaned forward, propping his chin on his slender fingers. Coy smirk playing about his lips. “You would remain completely faithful to me?” He purred, looking at me through his pale lashes. “I have no qualms allowing you to take lovers if it would make you more comfortable.”

I snorted faintly, burying it in my glass as I took another sip. As if anything about this conversation was likely to end with me being comfortable. The drink was already almost gone, and I could feel its effects curling tenderly about my insides. Warming my stomach, tickling the edges of my mind. I pretended it was the brandy making my cheekbones and neck flush, rather than the conversation. It was hard to separate the contract from myself when the bastard kept asking such personal questions.

“Monogamous.” I muttered finally, keeping my gaze fixed on my lap, even though it made no sense. My point was clear. After all, if I was going to do this marriage thing, I was going to do it right. Consign myself to my misery. And certainly not give this man any further ammunition against me in the future. Better to go it alone, as I always had.

His faint chuckle had me stiffening, but I pushed aside my discomfort. Reminding myself what this was all for. His quill scratched audibly across the page.

“Alright then, living quarters. Combined or separate?”

I nearly groaned. Another personal question? I ran my thumb over the lip of my glass. “Why is it necessary for that to be in the contract?” I grumbled, barely managing to conceal my irritation with his prying.

He tsked me, taking a deep sip of his own drink before flicking the feather of the quill at me pointedly. “We are embarking on a cross-cultural experiment, my young Prince. It is important all things be discussed. To avoid undue arguments and discontent down the line. No matter how trivial it may seem now.”

I almost snorted again but shook my head instead. “Kings and Queens traditionally have separate quarters.” I mumbled distantly. Would that notion matter in this instance?

“Really?” Breathed Grier, returning the quill to the inkwell and picking up his glass again. “I had heard such, but believed it more a formality than a common practice. How are conjugal visits managed?”

I glanced up at him, trying to discern if he was prying again. Trying to raise my ire. But he seemed genuinely curious, his red eyes sparkling in the firelight. I sighed deeply, raising one hand and rubbing at my brow.

“The Queen usually visits the King’s chambers regularly, until she becomes pregnant.”

“And after?”

I shrugged, raking my brain to remember how it had been between my own parents. “... Once an heir is produced, the visits are… less regular…” Likely because they were merely duty and obligation before. And once the coupling had produced a child? The King could return to his whores and the Queen to whatever her fancies.

He ran his finger over his lip, leaning back in his chair. “How absolutely odd. No wonder your people are so sexually repressed. You never see one another.”

Perhaps it was the now empty glass in my hand. Perhaps it was the fatigue from the long journey, or the emotional stress from the last few hours. But his words made me snort loudly, my facade of stoic calm dropping long enough to let a few short, soft laughs peter from my mouth.

When I looked over at him, he looked surprised. His eyes were wide, his slender brows high. My laughter faded, and I cleared my throat quickly, straightening.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, that was-”

“Please,” He stopped me again, reaching out one hand, “Just Grier. No ’Your Majesty’. And do not apologize.” He grinned, and for the first time, it seemed actually genuine rather than teasing or coy. “I am glad to see you are at least capable of laughter… Though I have yet to see you smile.” His smirk returned, and his eyes became playful. “I am not certain you know how.”

I rolled my eyes slightly, and a small scowl came over my lips. But I found myself not as annoyed as I had been at his teasing. I heard him stand, and his hand gently reached out and took my glass. I felt my heart skip a beat, though I berated myself for the foolishness as he returned to the cart with both.

He held my gaze for a moment too long as he passed me back my refilled glass, and I felt heat creeping up my neck. But I was careful to keep my face a careful mask of stoic indifference. It had been foolish of me to allow him to gain the upper hand thus far in negotiations. To let him put me constantly on edge with trivial questions that had nothing to do with the long term prosperity for my people. I was determined not to allow it to happen again.

Grier took his seat once more, swirling the brandy in his glass and taking a slow sip. Still, he watched me with those startling scarlet eyes. I felt my lips curving into a slight frown, but waited. As King, he should always be the one to speak first. It was not my place to address him unless I was first addressed. Perhaps he knew this, which is why he declined to speak. Instead fixing me with his unnerving gaze. Or, another part of me reasoned, perhaps he did not. Perhaps goblins did not have this custom, and he was waiting for me to speak first. As the guest. In which case, it was disrespectful for me not to speak.

I was still torn, debating which line of etiquette we were following, when he leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on his knees. My eyes flicked back to him at the movement, the only hint to my surprise.

“I find I am curious about you, Prince Nikostratus,” He said, sly smirk still dancing about his lips, “In truth, I did not expect you to agree to such an arrangement as this. And when you did, I was certain I would be able to call your bluff quickly.” My grip on my glass tightened, but I remained otherwise unmoved outwardly. “And if we are being completely honest, which I believe we should be, I originally proposed it to force you to trade your little sister for the sake of your own comfort and pride.”

I felt a chill run down my spine at his words, and my eyes narrowed sharply. “My sister?”

His expression faltered at the iciness of my tone, and even his smile shrank a few inches. The goblin quickly raised one hand. “Not for any untoward reason, I can assure you. More to gauge who you are as a person.”

I considered him, my gaze still chilled. A sinking feeling had grabbed hold of my nerves and dragged down the sensation from my fingertips with it. Leaving a tingling numbness slowly spreading through my body.

“Then you do not intend to keep this contract, Your Majesty?”

He chuckled nervously, finally dropping those scarlet eyes in the face of my cold, growing rage. “I feel we have regressed-”

“On the contrary,” I interrupted, eager to exploit his sudden off balanceness as he had so readily exploited mine, “I feel we have finally come to the end.” I started to stand, reaching out to place my glass on the table. “If you are quite done wasting my time, Your Majesty, I will return when you are ready to discuss a real contract for peace, rather than whatever sham you have attempted to ply onto me thus far.”

“This was not any kind of deception-” He jumped to his feet as I stood, quickly skirting over as if to block my path. “Your Highness, please-” I moved to step around him “-Prince Nikostratus!”

I froze, then looked down at him, his hand firmly clamped on my arm. His pronounced brow was knotted, his scarlet eyes narrowed. I found his grip surprisingly strong, despite his diminutive stature. The goblin was about a foot shorter than me, but it was a fact easily forgettable considering the square of his shoulders and the determined way he set his angular jaw.

We stayed like that for a breath, staring at each other. I fixed the King with as cold a glare as I could manage, and I saw him searching my face for a long, quiet moment. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but I was careful to keep up my stoney visage to be sure he would never find it.

“I have spoken too brashly,” He interjected finally, his voice soft, “And have thus insulted you… Which was far from my intent.” He gestured with his other hand, back to the arm chairs. “Please, Your Highness, allow me a moment to explain myself.”

I glanced back over my shoulder at the chairs, and my lips pinched tighter together in displeasure at the idea of returning. Disgust rolled in my gut, and I felt bile rising in my throat. But I worked hard to cool my anger. Reminding myself that whatever monster I was dealing with, I had to best him at his game. For everything I had left behind, and for everything that may yet lay before me. And perhaps, for the first time since we had met, I had him on the defense. It might be best to keep him there.

So I gave him a curt nod. “As you wish, Your Majesty.” I agreed stiffly.

He dropped his hand, relief flooding his features. I considered that for a moment as he magnanimously extended his arm. Leading the way back to the armchairs. I stood before mine, but did not sit, instead choosing to cross my arms over my chest. I had been told, due to the athletic tone of my body, that this was a rather imposing gesture on my part. Morgana had once told me it made my arms, chest, and shoulders look twice as big. My advisors had dryly followed up by telling me to never do so, as it hardly left the impression of a stately Prince. More, they said, a warmongering savage. But at that moment, I didn’t care. I wanted to make the goblin King feel small. I wanted him to be fearful and on edge.

I saw his eyes running me up and down, saw his narrow eyebrows twitch. He declined to sit as well, instead choosing to stand and face me with his three fingered hands lightly on his hips.

“When talk of peace between our two Kingdoms first arose,” he began, “I was the one who proposed a union through marriage. I had thought it a sign. My advisors have long been pressing the idea of my marriage, but I had always been hesitant. After all,” He smirked slightly here, “You only get married once.” He straightened, his smirk becoming a frown, “But I was told that your sister would be my prospective partner, as the King’s only daughter. The prospect of marrying a child, for any reason, left me ill at the thought.” He shifted, tucking his hands against the small of his back. “So when I learned of your lack of interest in the fairer sex,” He continued, and I stiffened slightly at the implications, “I was relieved. You are an adult, after all, only a few years my junior, able to consent to the marriage of your own free will. You would understand what the arrangement would entail, and my conscience would rest easy knowing it was a consensual contract.” The shadow of his smirk returned to the corners of his mouth. “Imagine my surprise when I learned that your people would take a direct proposal of this nature as an outright insult! That they would rather I marry a child than a Prince.”

“And yet, Your Majesty, you chose to lay the insult upon me nevertheless.” I mused, my voice still cold. My anger still pounding in my breast.

He raised his hands defensively. “I did not plan to pursue that course of action. Not until I learned it was you yourself who would be coming to the peace negotiations did I see the opportunity to even do so.” He considered me slyly. “I had heard tales of your family, of your pride and snobbery,” He raised his hands again as my eyes flashed, but his voice remained light and teasing, “Though I much preferred an arranged marriage with you, I had assumed I would not find you an appealing match in the least.”

“Your Majesty, if you intend to continue this line of-”

“I put you to a test,” He interrupted, returning his hands to the small of his back, eyes dancing, “It was childish, perhaps, and I will honestly say, I did fully expect you to fail. I proposed the marriage to your sister, to see if you would agree to such an outrageous pairing. Then I offered you an alternative.”

I considered him quietly, mulling over his words. I thought about speaking then, in the silence he let settle about us. But I decided to wait to see if he had more to say. Though it seemed less a defense of his behavior thus far and more of a confession. So I waited, eyes slightly narrowed, arms still crossed over my chest.

“... So you see, I expected you to offer your sister to me, rather than risk your own image and honor. As I said before.” He paused briefly, and his head cocked ever so slightly to the side. “... But you surprised me.”

I gritted my teeth, scowling at him. “I am afraid, Your Majesty, that your so-called honesty has only confirmed my understanding that you were simply stringing me along. Intending to dishonor and embarrass me without any intent of-”

“I have every intent-” He interrupted me again “-Of marrying you. I always have.”

That made my breath catch in my throat, and my composure slipped ever so slightly around my eyes as they widened. I quickly reset my features, swallowing the lump forming in my throat.

He watched quietly, then gestured again to the chair. “Please, let us return to our negotiations. If we can move past this strife… For the good of our people, if nothing else.”

I hesitated, watching him sit as if the matter had been settled. There was still a question burning on my lips, but I was not certain I could continue on with any semblance of a level head if I knew the answer. For that reason, I chose not to ask it; not yet at least. I gritted my teeth again, studying him as he waited patiently, gazing up at me with those scarlet eyes.

“Your Majesty, If I find this is some long winded prank-”

“It is not.” He promised, then smiled his coy, teasing smile. “And please call me Grier, I beg of you. I cannot suffer the titles and formalities much longer than I absolutely must.”

I glanced back at the waiting armchair, at the abandoned glass of brandy. “What assurance do I have that it is not?”

Grier lifted one long, slender finger, tapping his lips thoughtfully. “We shall put it in the document, if it would set your mind at ease.” He declared, reaching out and picking up the quill once more. “Should it be discovered that either party entered this marriage contract under false pretenses, it shall immediately become null and void, and the offending party shall secede to the ruling authority of the other.” He ended the sentence on the page with a fancy flourish of the quill tip, and raised one brow at me. “Is that satisfactory?”

I resisted the urge to give him an un-princely grumble, and settled for a scowl instead. But I did return to my seat, slowly, stiffly, and after a moment reached for my glass.

“I believe we should discuss the ceremony itself.” He proposed tentatively, watching me through his pale lashes as he took another sip of his own brandy. “To be certain it is official and legally binding for both species.”

I swallowed my sigh, and gave a small nod. “As you wish.”

The goblin did not continue right away, cocking his head to the side again and studying me as he took a deep, slow sip of his drink. I waited, rolling my own glass distractedly against my palms. It was smooth, and cool to the touch. Almost as soothing as the liquid it held.

“But perhaps we can leave that for a later date.” I glanced over at him, and he flashed me a charming smile of pointed teeth. “I would like to hear what additions to the contract you would like to discuss first.”

I took a sip of the brandy, nodding much more resolutely. “Very well. The taxes levied on the people-”

He waved his hand, cutting me off. “No, no.” He sat forward in his chair. “Let the understudies and scribes deal with such tedious ticks. We will review them before the formal signing, but need not discuss the specifics ourselves.”

I frowned. “I beg your pardon, I thought you wished to discuss my additions…. What other addendum would you mean to discuss?”

Grier sighed deeply, and his lips twitched with amusement. “Those of a more personal nature, of course.” He swirled his brandy with a deft wrist. “We discussed those issues I felt might arise through the course of our marriage; children, lovers, living arrangements. You must have your own expectations for this union as well. Something to put in ink.”

I stiffened, and my gaze snapped down to the drink in my hands. “... I do not.”

He scoffed, waving his hand again. “Come now, there must be something. Summer castles, hunting trips, gifts, anniversaries, retirement plans. Perhaps religious beliefs? Dietary requirements?” I shook my head, and he rolled his eyes teasingly. “You must have some thoughts or plans for the remainder of your life.”

I took another sip of the brandy, letting it sit in my mouth for a moment before slowly swallowing it. “... I have no expectations.”

That set a deafening silence upon the cluttered room, and we sat in it for an extended period. Grier watched me, and I watched the flames flickering in the fireplace. Keeping my stoney expression flat and void. I forced all other thoughts from my mind to keep them from my face. As I had been taught and perfected through a lifetime of necessity.

“... It is late.” The goblin replied finally, clearing his throat and shuffling the parchment on his lap. “Undoubtedly it has been a long day. If you are agreeable, I will take you to our guest quarters for the evening so you may rest.”

I looked at the papers he placed upon the marble table. “The contract-”

“Will be there in the morning, when we are both more rested and fresh.” He finished, tossing his head back to drain the last of his glass and standing.

I followed suit, brushing my hands down my abdomen to smooth the starchy fabric there. He gestured to me as he moved towards the door, and the weariness of the day dragged at my shoulders. I found I had not the strength to argue further, and simply fell in step behind him as he pulled open the grand door and stepped back out into the hall.

I had never had a head for floorplans or layouts, and the twists and turns he led me down quickly became jumbled in my tired mind. Give me a war field with troops and battalions and I could coordinate and execute the most stunning and creative of maneuvers. Place me in a castle hall and give me directions to the kitchen and I would get lost. So I stayed at his mercy, allowing him to lead me deeper into his underground castle until we came before a set of old wooden doors.

“Here we are.” He exclaimed, halting and turning to face me. I stopped short to avoid running into his smaller frame. Sharp teeth grinned up at me. “You should find everything you need here. And I shall have an attendant at the door, should you find you require anything additional.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty-” I noticed his brow twitch slightly at the title, and I quickly clamped my mouth shut over the last syllable.

I saw him hesitate, glancing at the door, then back to me. I sensed there was more, and waited patiently. Even though my palms itched to open the door and have the peace of my own company. Even though my spine ached from holding so straight and perfect for so many long hours. I was well versed in patience; in serving the will of another at the expense of my own. So I waited.

“I would request your presence for breakfast.” He said, cupping his hands behind his back. “... Socially. For the pleasure of your company and to get to know you better, if you are willing.” Now it was my turn to hesitate, my breath catching in my throat. “You may decline, if you wish.” He added quickly. “I do not mind sending your meal to your rooms, then we may speak later to complete the final details of the marriage contract.”

My besotted mind could not quite fathom the full extent of the offer, and I belittled a sigh that managed to sneak out with a soft gust from my nose. My lips pursed, I nodded to the Goblin King, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck prickle even as I did.

“Of course, Your-.... Ehm…” I cleared my throat, then looked down at the floor. “Of course… Grier.”

His name tasted strange on my tongue, and felt wrong to say. But the way he beamed up at me with delight made heat scratch at the edge of my collar. I shifted my weight slightly, glancing back at the stone floor.

“Excellent! I will see you in the morning then, Prince Nikostratus.”

...

UPDATE: Part two HERE

#mxm #oc #Royal Flush #monster x human #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster husband #slow burn #two kings #monster romance #terato #exophilia #goblin #goblin lover #goblin boyfriend #goblin husband #arranged marriage #monster royalty

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astoldbypoptart · 3 years ago

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Rules

Disclaimer

I don’t claim ownership of these characters unless stated otherwise.

Sensitive Subjects

Sensitive subjects can and will be discussed on this blog. Anything that could be triggering will be tagged accordingly with “[TRIGGER] tw”.

This blog has a recommended 18+ rating due to the sensitive nature some content that is discussed on this blog on occasion, minors are still welcome to follow.

Private

I am a private blog, meaning that I only interact in-character with mutuals (the people I follow and who follow me back*). If we are not mutuals, please do not attempt to initiate threads or approach me in-character (but you’re welcome to send asks if you’d like). *Does not apply to sideblogs that follow from a main blog.

Selective

I am a selective roleplayer, which to me, means that I can be picky about who I roleplay with. Please don’t take it personally if you follow me and I don’t follow you back!

Unfollowing

If I follow you and you don’t follow me back, I will unfollow after 2 days to a week in the interest of keeping my dashboard clean. If you change your mind after that period, no worries, I’ll follow you again.

Activity

I am a low activity blog. I wish I could roleplay more often, but I work two jobs and am plagued with mental illness.

A lot of my activity will be mobile due to my computer being slow and its fan making an incessant whirring noise that sounds like a PS1 disc drive on steroids. Thanks for being patient with me.

Queue

My blog runs on a queue, posting thread replies three times daily at 10am, 12pm, and 2pm PST. This allows me enough time to catch up on threads for a few days in advance.

Mains & Exclusives

Being mains means...

If I have a plot idea for our muses, I will come to you before anyone else (and I expect you to do the same for me, too!)

Additional opportunities for deeper relationship and character development.

Surprise starters.

Being exclusives includes the benefits of being mains, plus...

We will only roleplay with each other’s version of their muse.

Reduced duplicate anxiety.

If your muse is namedropped, my muses will react as if they specifically meant your muse.

If you want to be mains or exclusives with me, I expect that we’re already good friends, or we’ve interacted OOC on several occasions, have an established relationship with our muses, and we have two or more threads together.

I typically accept two spots for each main.

If an exclusive of mine goes inactive for a month or more without notice, I’ll bump them down to a main. Every so often, I’ll remove inactive mains.

Shipping

I am a multi-ship blog. This means that every romantic relationship that takes place on this blog is in a parallel universe, and infidelity does not occur. Do not accuse my muse of cheating.

Reminders

Please do not spam me for replies, but feel free to ask about our thread if I seem to have forgotten and it’s been over a week.

NSFW

I am 21 years old. I may make the occasional sex joke, but I have no interest in writing smut so please do not proposition me to do so. I also am uncomfortable discussing sex with minors or about minors.

I smoke weed pretty regularly and talk about it OOC sometimes too, so heads up to those who aren’t comfortable with that.

Blacklist

Please tag NSFW, vagues, MLP, and the names Jo and Jolie.

Do NOT use aesthetic tags for these. (I’ll bite you!)

Fan Art

If I have used fan art, it is probably an accident. I only use fan art if, and only if, the artist explicitly states they’re okay with it. If you see that I have made a mistake, please let me know.

My Graphics and Art

My graphics are intended for my own personal use. If you take and use them, I will hardblock you.

If I post art here, don’t repost it or share it.

If I draw you art and gift it to you, you’re welcome to do whatever you’d like with it, but please credit me!

Callouts

I don’t boost callouts unless the person in question is proven to be dangerous (not toxic).

My ‘Like’ Habit

If I like our thread, that’s my way of letting you know that your most recent reply is saved to my drafts.

Follower Tracker

I use a follower tracker to keep track of my mutuals, just to make sure I don’t accidentally approach anyone that’s unfollowed me. It doesn’t track your IP, and I’m not gonna confront you or anything if you do decide to unfollow.

Cut Your Posts

I’m okay with seeing threads with the three most recent replies (your reply, your partner’s reply, and then your reply), but if your posts are longer, I will have to unfollow in order to keep my dashboard a relatively clean feed.

Reblog Karma

Please reblog memes from the source to help keep my notifications limited to threads and such.

If you see a meme on my blog and reblog it, please consider sending an ask to me as well.

Asks on New Posts

If you want to continue a thread from an ask, please continue it on a new post and tag me.

Please Specify Muse

If you do not select a muse on starter calls, ask memes, etc., I will pick one at random.

Unwelcome Topics and Muses

Pedophilia

Incest

Active sexual abuse or violence

Active discrimination

Religious figure or real deity muses.

My Little Pony muses.

Real-life people muses.

Unfollowing or Blocking

Very seldom will I unfollow or block someone. If I unfollow or block you, I do not owe you an explanation so please do not inquire.

Password

Thanks for making it this far! If you want to let me know that you read all this, head on over to my askbox and let me know which of my muses are interesting to you. Address me as “hey Fuckface” for a bonus point!

#rules

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matteredloyaltyaa · 4 years ago

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NAV.

GOOGLE DOC (RULES/ABOUT/VERSES).

PLOTTING FORM. HEADCANONS. WISHLIST.

Tumblr mobile friendly version of my rules under the read-more.

DISCLAIMER:

I do not claim to own or have created this character, though the headcanon posts you see here are of my own interpretation of this character and events. I am private and selective, meaning that I only write with mutuals (those who I follow and who follow me in return), and tend to watch who I follow back and/or write with for my own comfort. However, my askbox is open to everybody if you wish to talk to me or the character on this blog, but I may not answer everything put in there.

PASSWORDS:

Due to my social anxiety, I don't have a password in these rules, nor do I send them in. I read everybody's rules and pages before following and usually before interacting.

ACTIVITY:

This is my main blog, which means that I am on it most of the time. However, I do suffer from some mental disorders, namely anxiety, depression, and OCD. These tend to affect how I interact ooc and can make me overly distant sometimes, and it's usually nothing anybody has done to me but my own mind running off on it's own about things. So, I do apologize for that. I may be absent from blogs during bad periods or make a couple posts here and there that I always delete after an hour or two stating that I'm in a bad way. Everything will be tagged.

HIGH HONOR:

Please note that I base my characterization off my raw play of this game, in which Arthur is HIGH HONOR and you may see more of that toward the end of his main verse. However, I still play him as a morally grey individual, especially as he’s trying to find his own mind on things in a way, but ultimately he leans more toward honorable moral choices (or what are considered honorable for the life he leads). He will do both good and bad things. At his point in time, I’m not exactly leaning towards adding a low honor verse, as his portrayal within the fandom has turned me off completely and after playing that route myself, I don’t really see much reason to. However, that may change if I end up finding a way to put a spin to that.

BLOG & PERSONAL TRIGGERS:

Please note that I don't have many triggers myself outside of suicide and overly anxiety inducing content (jumpscares, purposely paranoia inducing posts, etc).

There are some themes that I would like to avoid writing about in detail or at all. Namely, I WILL NOT write out anything like incest (the John/Arthur ship tends to fall into this category for me, along with Arthur/Dutch and Arthur/Hosea, so I will say that it's a NOTP for me), abuse (outside of mentions in regards to backstory, all forms), pedophilia, and rape. Also, I should note on a personal side that pregnancy can make me a little uncomfortable due to some gender stuff with me. I don't mind mentioning it, nor do I mind parental relationships when it comes to Arthur and sometimes outright adopting children in certain verses, but threads and interactions solely based off pregnancy can make me uncomfortable. It's difficult to explain but I would like to avoid it. Really, when in doubt, just ask.

This blog does and may contain triggering material, due to the nature of this game and the character. The biggest ones that will be present here are violence, guns/shooting, crime, and illness. I should also note that, due to the fact that this game takes place in 1899, there may be some triggers related to the views of this time period. Arthur himself is rather progressive and doesn't hold those views himself, but that doesn't mean the people around him don't and may be referenced in threads. Everything will be tagged as I catch it and where needed.

SPOILERS:

This game has been out for at least a year now. I will not be tagging for spoilers anymore, so please follow or read at your own risk if you are working through the game for the first time.

WRITING, SPEED, and NSFW:

My general writing style is paragraph/paragraphs. I don't mind one-liners but I usually only reserve those for starters that I’m writing and I tend to expand on the length of those as I go. I format my posts, mostly just some minimal spacing, small text (not sub), and all-caps words, bold, and italic usage. If this bothers anybody or makes it hard to read, please let me know and I can continue our thread in a non-formatted way. I also use icons, but I will follow my partner's lead on iconless rps. I can also be a little long-winded with my replies but you aren't obligated to match that. As long as I don't get like three sentences back to five paragraphs, we're all good.

I'm a slow rper. It may take me a day or two to get around to things, both asks, threads, and messages. I don't mind a nudge here and there but if it feels like you're pressuring me, I will warn you and block if it continues.

I'm 24, the muse is 36 in his main verse. We are both over the age in regards to nsfw. Smut is kind of rare for me and I don't do it often on Tumblr, however if we're in a ship and you want to write that over Discord, I may be open to it. That said, too, I will ONLY write nsfw with people and muses who are OVER 18. There is no exception to this. That noted, too, Arthur's in his 30's so a massive age gap may not appeal to him much either.

SHIPPING:

I’m going to sound like a hardass but: I am a highly selective shipper on here, and the ships that do appear on this blog are ones I have had for quite some time. Everything of a romantic nature will need to be discussed with me and the chemistry has to be there for me to agree to shipping. I’m not an insta-shipper, nor am I accepting to pre-established romantic relationships outside of those in canon. They will need to be discussed with me like every other ship and may be subject to me disagreeing to do it. Otherwise, I am multi-ship, despite being highly selective, and I’m fine with discussing them but please be aware of this.

FOLLOWING, DRAMA, AND DUPLICATES:

I will usually give someone a day or two of active posting after following before I unfollow if I don't receive one back. I don't mean anything personal by that, I'm simply making sure I don't accidentally like or send anything in if we aren't mutuals. That said, too, I am selective with who I do follow. If you're a sideblog and you don't have that blog easily accessible on your main blog or you don't message me about it, I'm likely going to miss it. I don't follow rp blogs that are run more like personals if only to keep my dash slower. Also, generally, if our writing styles don't mesh, you're rude to me, or you post nasty things, I will likely unfollow/block/or not follow back.

I don’t interact with or reblog callout posts. I don't have great patience with ooc drama and will likely unfollow if there is a lot of it being posted by you.

Following and being followed by duplicates (other Arthurs) is completely fine with me. However, with the mentality sometimes, I won't go out of my way to follow first if only to avoid making anybody uncomfortable by me doing so. I'm also non-exclusive for general interactions, so multiples of the same character I am fine with. I may take mains, however, which means these blogs get priority over plots and focus in headcanons, etc.

CROSSOVERS AND ORIGINAL CHARACTERS:

I'm crossover friendly so long as I know the character/fandom. That said, if I just can't get into it or make it fit, I won't force it.

I love original characters and you guys are cool with me, however I do need to see at least some stats or a verse we can interact in before I follow/follow back. I'm also fine with your OC knowing Arthur in their backstory but, again, romantic stuff needs to be talked over with me first.

STARTER CALLS:

I've found that I don't enjoy doing starter calls. I may do them here and there when the urge strikes, but the best way to interact with me is to message me or continuing memes sent or sent to me. I'm also more than happy to like other starter calls, too, if you want to throw them my way.

QUESTIONS?:

No. Go away. >:(

I’m kidding. Just drop me a message, I’ll get back to you. I also have a Discord available to mutuals, if that’s what you prefer. I promise I’m not as much as a hard ass as these rules make me seem.

ABOUT THE MUN:

Hey! Thank you for reading these if you do. A little introduction here: my name is Rory, I'm 25, Canadian and operate mostly out of the GMT-7 time zone. Though, I tend to post at odd hours so that may not be too noticeable. I'm nonbinary and I prefer they/them. I'm a full time university student, which means that I may disappear when studies pile up or my time is divided. That said, I do enjoy talking to people when I'm able. My IMs and Discord are always available to mutuals, just drop me a message.

#failed: rory has died . || ooc .#;pinned #[Figured I could do a more mobile friendly thing on here to pin #or more mobile friendly to Tumblr lol]#/// long post #[I hope the readmore works on the dash rn #if not I'm sorry]

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mermaid-of-the-valley · 5 years ago

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Canopic Soul Jar

If you don’t mind spoilers as to where I’m going with this first bit. Click Here. I have officially lost patience with concepting so I guess we die like authors. So, without any further ado and the force of social distancing behind me, let’s begin this tragedy the way all the best tragedies start…

Once Upon A Time

In a glimmering kingdom called Mekone, the crown prince found True Love.

Not an uncommon occurrence really, for this land, like all others, was subject to the magic of soulmates. At the age of 21 everyone received a mark on their forearm that would encapsulate their future partner’s nature. For good or ill, their traits were reflected for all the world to see, and this mark glows with warmth when the soulmates meet.

Yes, citizens of every class are subject to the magic of the soulmates mark, even the royal family. Though their love never appeared beyond the edges of nobility, divinely seeking out only the best for the rulers and heirs of the kingdom.

On his twenty first birthday, Roman the Fifth, Crown Prince of Mekone, long may he thrive, quite literally leapt from his bed to inspect every inch of his arms. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten that he wasn’t born until much later in the day and as such would be ‘cursed to languish’ a few more hours.

The sound he made upon this realization could be generously described as a whine. It carried well into the hall and so his dear friend and servant Patton was not the slightest bit surprised to find him planked across his rug. “Good morning, your Highness!” Another bout of groaning answered him. “Yes, I know.”

Roman pried his head up. “No, you don’t!” Back down.

Patton, unbothered, stepped over the prince to get to the wardrobe. “You’re going to mess up your hair laying like that.”

At that, Roman was at least motivated to sit up and take in his friend as he sorted through Roman’s daily wear. If anyone in his inner circle could be considered a ‘fashion icon’, it was Patton, dressed as he was in his pastel blue vest, white shirt and delightfully puffy, tan trousers. It was one of many reasons Roman used to convince his mother to add Patton to the palace staff.

“M’kay, kiddo. Got a special day, so you need a special outfit! You want the reds or the blues?” He asked, revealing his options with a flourish.

Roman rolled his eyes. “Reds of course!”

“Well, hue never know until you ask!” And that was one of the other reasons he’d asked for Patton as his dresser, more of a personal one though. The man was a like a living ray of sunshine and several years back Roman was convinced that they were made for each other.

His parents were certain that wasn’t the case. And as much as it hurt, they were right. When Patton’s soul mark appeared, it couldn’t be more different from the royal crest, void of any form that could connect to Roman. But that morning, when Roman was late to rise, Patton sat next to him and let him mourn what couldn’t be.

He was snapped out of his reverie when Patton pushed him behind his dressing screen. “I’ll hand you your things as you go and be quick or you’ll be late for breakfast!”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The prince was beaming as he strode down the hall. Dressed in his hunting greys and a red sash, he waved at passing servants and the paintings of his predecessors alike.

At the end of the passageway he paused, staring up at a piece of discolored wall, but the guards clamored loudly and the grand doors swung open, giving him no time to linger. The dining hall was wide and elegant as always. His parents stationed at the table’s head, like the united front they were. Their majesties King Roman the Fourth of Mekone and Queen Llorna of Lystair smiled at him as he entered.

“My word, I had been wondering if you were even in the palace at all.” His mother said with a wry tone, folding her hands with the king’s.

His father echoed her teasing. “What held you up, son? Fierce battles or perhaps a damsel in distress?”

Roman dropped into his seat and replied without a beat. “No such luck I’m afraid. Appears my best boots went missing and Patton took exception to that.” Specifically, he’d taken is-shoe, but he rather doubted his parents would catch the pun.

“Well, I’m glad that someone is focused on the right things.” Llorna joked. “It is important to maintain an appearance of strength at all times. It gives our subjects comfort.”

“Yes, mother.” Roman huffed, used to this sort of talk by now. He tucks in to his breakfast quickly when the kitchen staff lay it out. He had plans anyway. Speaking of which…

“It’s today.” The king says between sips of tea, a solemn expression on his face.

“Mm.” The queen hums in agreement, “I suppose we’ll have to call for partners soon. Perhaps a ball?” Her tone musing.

Roman swallowed hard around his oatmeal. He’d never doubted that whoever his parents picked would somehow be his soulmate, but now that the prospect was so close? “Uhm, I was hoping to spend the day hunting! If that pleases your majesties?” He asked with exaggerated sweetness.

His parents paused, derailed for the moment. “That depends.” The king starts.

“Where would you be?” The queen finishes.

“I was going to try the mountain basin today. Been reports of a pronghorn herd moving through there.”

Another pause, this time with a shared look. “Perhaps, if you make an effort to be back before evening.” Llorna consented. “But only if you bring a contingent of guards.”

“What?! Mother, please! I’d never catch anything with a mass of armor clanging behind me, to say nothing of the smell!”

The queen met him evenly. “It would be dangerous for you to go alone, who knows what ruffians are in those woods?”

Roman sighed deeply. “Mother, really?”

His father sought to intervene, one hand up to halt conversation the other loosely cupping the queen’s. “Roman has a point,” The prince lit up visibly. “However, you should at least bring the captain.”

Oh, Gods No…

His mother did seem satisfied though, her smile and his fathers returned. That was probably the best he was going to get, so Roman resigned himself to his fate. Even if it meant traipsing around the countryside with that infuriating, stuffy, overbearing-

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“Logan!” He cheered, walking up to the captain with wide arms and a grin that looked more like a grimace if he was being honest.

Guard Captain Logan was a stern man that never seemed content with anything. His hair was always swept back and even his daily wear was immaculate to a ‘T’. His posture, his expression, his manner of speech, all of it was militant, even now as he stood in the stables with his and Roman’s horses. If pressed to describe Logan in one word it would almost certainly be: Stiff.

Roman wasn’t very fond of him, nor his henpecking behavior every time Logan was assigned as his solo guard. The captain bowed at the waist. “Your highness.” He gestured to a cream-colored mare that had been bathed and harnessed for their hunt.

And Roman immediately beamed at her, striding over and carefully hugging her long face. She chewed at his shoulder fabric contently. Froufrou was a beautiful horse, not very fast, but careful and soft in her gait, perfect for their trek through the mountain brush. He hopped up onto her back and pat her neck fondly.

Logan walked out, gently tugging the reins of his speckled-grey stallion, Archimedes. His own horse was unsaddled, an attempt to make it look like an average farm steed. The sleeve on his right arm slipped back and a bit of curling, light blue pattern peeked out. Logan was quick to re-cover it for many reasons.

And wasn’t that the crux of their issues with each other? Logan was not one to believe in fate. He scraped and fought and studied for his position, but even so his soul mark was extensively scrutinized before he could enter the palace staff. It was something he often hid beneath his uniform since as it screamed what he was quick to deny and Patton was thrilled to discover.

Logan questioned everything, and he was a bearer of many theories that soul marks were relics of the old times and should not be given as much weight as they were. When the tailor and the captain were formally introduced, Logan was indifferent to the buzzing warmth on his arm. He apologized to Patton in private later, informing him that romantic attraction was simply not something he could or was inclined to feel.

Even so Patton never stopped bouncing after the man, accepting their relationship for what it was. Roman, for his part, was jealous and confused by their every interaction. He was raised to look forward to this moment in his life, when at long last proof of everlasting love would stamp his skin and he could be certain that someone special was waiting out there just for him.

Two sharp snaps startled Roman from his stupor. Logan levelling him with a bland stare from Archimedes’ back. The prince turned red, reminded that the guard had essentially been forced to spend his day off keeping Roman from injuring himself.

Seriously, you run into a tree one time and suddenly everyone fears for the future of the kingdom.

It wasn’t his fault that crow stole his hairpins!

Logan sighed, nudging Archimedes into motion and trusting Roman to follow. “We’ll need to exit from the Eastern Gate, it will be the least congested at this time of day. Please try to mitigate your interactions with the public.” Just like the man to stifle Roman’s radiance. “Stay back a few feet, but keep me in sight.”

And they were off, trotting into the roadways of the city, the quieter ones of course. Froufrou was a bit conspicuous, but aside from a brief spook from a hooded man in The Corridor, they slipped through the streets unnoticed.

The moment they saw the gates Logan shocked him by flicking his reins and sending Archimedes racing across the threshold with barely a moment’s shift in stride. Logan tucked himself low, reducing drag and leaning into the horse’s gait. The stallion was loving it! His head raising back in a triumphant scream then following Logan’s lead in leaning forward.

Roman had to push Froufrou just to keep up, the mare almost as shocked as her rider and equally incensed once she was made to sprint after their companions. “What was that?!” The prince bellowed. “You were ordered to stay close, not bolt off into the ether!”

The captain didn’t slow for nearly half their journey and was far too smug when he finally did. “I said keep me in sight. Archimedes so rarely gets to run without practicing drills, would you really deny him?” The horse whickered in agreement. Froufrou nipped at him, scolding.

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Roman released a deep breath into the air around him. The basin was barely a stone’s throw from where they’d settled in the brush. The sun dappling through the trees and the wind in their faces. Roman could probably write a sonnet befitting the place if he’d only remembered a quill and paper.

But alas, today his pursuits were more sporting in nature. Froufrou stood behind him, still as a statue, just as she was trained to do. Logan had gone ahead, again, to “keep tabs on the herd” he’d said. They’d seen scattered groups bouncing along the rocky hills and Roman had a sneaking suspicion the captain was making himself just enough of a visible threat to scare them in his direction.

Which was stupid. He was fine by himself.

“Obviously.” He chided himself quietly. A snap of twigs made him start and he had to tense hard to avoid falling from his half crouch. His quarry appeared at a slow canter, shortly followed by another two. These he let pass without incident. As he expected, a tall, male pronghorn trailed after the does with a sound not unlike a short, chirping cough.

Roman held his bow steady, pulled back on the string…

It spooked. Just as Roman realized and tried to correct, it burst off into the woods away from him. The arrow scraped the beast’s flank and imbed in the soil instead of making a clean kill. Roman cursed, jumping from his shelter and giving chase.

The beast’s calls tapered off and the trail became spotty as he stumbled through the flora. A rookie mistake, Roman noted with frustration, he should have just let it slip away and waited for a surer target. It wasn’t like stomping around like a drunken elephant would get it to come back anytime soon. He kicked the dirt. It didn’t make him feel any batter.

Where was he?

“Shit.” The prince spun around, trying to make heads or tails of his position. He whistled sharply. No sign of his horse, Froufrou was too far away. Roman rubbed his hands hard down his face with a groan. “Fiery fits of Fortuna, today is cursed!”

“Hey!”

That wasn’t Logan’s voice. Thoughts of his mother’s frequent worries flying into his head, Roman shot up, scanning the area.

“Up here, Robin Hood!”

His eyes trailed up a white barked tree with narrow branches. Upon one of which sat a barefoot, willowy young man with a canvas bag slung across his shoulders and hair that flopped in front of an exhausted expression. He suddenly seemed unsure what to say now that Roman stared at him. “Um, Are you… good?”

Now the royal was taken aback, for several reasons, not least of which was how he could have so completely missed a stranger in a tea tree. “I-, Yes?”

Once upon a time, in a forest separate from his realm, the crown prince found True Love. Not that he realized it at the time.

#Canopic Soul Jar #CSJ #Thomas Sanders Sides #TSS #Roman Sanders #Patton Sanders #Logan Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Future Prinxiety #Soulmate AU

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your-poison-and-pills · 4 years ago

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Muse & Roleplay Info

Name: Gerard A. Way

Age: 25

D.O.B: April 9th

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/him/his, they/them/theirs

Sexuality: Demisexual

Romantic orientation: biromantic

Gerard suffers from hallucinations both visual and auditory, he often sees people that aren’t actually there and hears what sounds like someone talking to him. He began to have these hallucinations when he was a teenager but the cause of them was never discovered, though his doctor believes it is possibly schizophrenia. Gerard dropped out of high school after an incident that landed him in the hospital for a month, he ended up working at a record store for a while. His friends encouraged him to write music of his own and with time he began writing songs, using his struggles with his hallucinations as fuel. Eventually he formed the band The Black Parade, recording the songs he wrote with his brother and friends. As time went on they released an album and began doing small tours in a few different states.

For this au nobody besides the ones in the band and his family know that Gerard suffers from hallucinations, their fans don’t know and neither does the media. Anything seeming unusual is written off as a stage bit, the band always writes it off as that and they try to keep Gerard’s mental health a private matter.

Please be aware this au could have some triggering elements such as suicidal talk/thoughts, suicide attempts, poor mental health, mental illness, eating disorders, drug use, alcoholism, gore/injury, and other things. But if you wish to roleplay with this au then please tell me your triggers beforehand! Regardless if I am planning something that could be triggering I will ask you about it beforehand.

Roleplaying:

Please feel free to message me with any questions or plot ideas you might have! I am fairly open when it comes to roleplay ideas, I will also answer any questions you may have to the best of my ability.

Note that I might be a little selective when it comes to roleplaying with OCs as I am wanting to use this account to help me form Gerard’s personality and such for the fanfiction I plan to write with this au. You can send me your OC info if you wish but please keep in mind that there is a chance I say no. This is also for personal comfort as well so keep that in mind.

Don’t be afraid to talk to me out of character using admin marks; this is especially important if you have any ideas of what could eventually happen in the roleplay or if something is making you uncomfortable! I want to make sure you are having fun with the roleplay and aren’t feeling uncomfortable.

Don’t hold your muse back, if they feel like punching or yelling at my muse then go ahead. I don’t mind! If you’re unsure about writing something your muse wants to do then just ask, chances are I’ll tell you to go right ahead.

Note that I only roleplay descriptive, usually anywhere from a paragraph to three paragraphs. I will not do script roleplaying nor will I respond to a roleplay if I have only a sentence or two to go off of; I don’t want to be the one to do all of the writing.

Please note that I may not reply right away; I am starting college soon and I sometimes struggle to reply. Please don’t harass me and get mad if I don’t reply right away, give me some time and eventually I will reply.

Thank you for reading everything and hopefully I will hear from you!

- Callum

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ask-drunk-wheeljack · 6 years ago

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The Wrecker Code (Rules)

General Guidelines

Be nice. Prob don’t have to tell ya that. If you’re not then you’ll go to the block list with all the porn bots and you don’t wanna be there.

Open to new RP’s with anyone. Just hmu in the ask box or hit up my dm’s and let’s get this party started! You can use a starter from a list I’ve shared whenever, or you can come up with one of your own. I love seeing what people come up with.

Multiverse and OC friendly! Just gotta fill me in on yourself or your character and we can do it. I RP with all continuities of Transformers.

I explore and rp potentially dark subjects (abuse, mental health/illnesses, drugs/alcohol use, etc). You’ve been warned. I’ll try to tag things or use a cut when needed.

There aren’t a lot of subjects I won’t rp since nothing really phases me, but I’d rather asks and rp steer clear of politics/religion and stuff like that where people end up uncomfortable or highly opinionated. We’re here for robots not human politics.

On that note, anything else is up for grabs. I will do most anything but I would appreciate a dm if you’re looking to do anything that involves dubcon/noncon elements or brings direct harm to either your muse or mine.

You’re always welcome to send asks to Wheeljack or myself (mun Jackie). Make Wheeljack cringe, roll his optics, shake his head, become painfully insecure, whatever. He’ll answer according to his thoughts bout the subject but I can’t promise he’ll be fully honest all the time.

Please don’t reblog my rp’s if you’re not a part of the rp. It creates confusion and honestly, if you think about it, is hardly productive since the thread is ongoing and you’re only ever gonna have part of it. You’re interrupting the writers (literally, we are writing together) and that’s rude. so please don’t. You’re always welcome to send a starter for your own rp with me.

If you ever have any questions about anything (Wheeljack, rp, headcanons, whatever), my dm’s are open

Take a moment to read Wheeljack’s about section. It’s the best way to get to know him and it might even inspire a question or a starter. Link in bio.

You can talk to SG Wheeljack (although he is a horrible boy so be careful!) and human Wheeljack at any point in his life. I will do RP as all of them. Just make sure to specify who you are directing the ask or starter to.

Shipping Guidelines

I am multiship. Come ship with me ;)

I accept all continuities for shipping and if I’m down for it, I will ship with human characters.

There are some ships I will not do: wj x Bulkhead (I see them as brothers so that would be weird), wj x ultra magnus (just don’t dig it all that much) are my main ones but I’ll let you know if I am not comfortable with a ship.

Ships I am always down for are: Ratchet x Wheeljack, Wheeljack x Wheeljack (yes my boy needs to date himself, and I’m open to any continuity wheeljack for shipping), Wheeljack x OC’s (if the chemistry is right)

NSFW RP Guidelines

I answer NSFW asks, participate in NSFW RP, and joke about/discuss NSFW things. I have quite a bit of mature content on here since I am of age. My jokes may not be funny to everyone. If that bothers ya, this prolly is the wrong place for you, cos Wheeljack a filthy, dirty, nasty minded mech, and I am almost as dirty minded as he is.

NSFW rp is welcome to be brought up. I may not agree to every NSFW RP request, but you’re definitely welcome to ask. Just don’t start popping panels and wielding spikes before you inform me you’re interested and I agree to it. I love NSFW RP but my character is not just here for the taking at any time. Character does not mean consent. Keep ya panels shut until everyone participating has agreed to it.

No NSFW RP with minors. End of story.

If you would like to RP something NSFW but would not like to do so publicly on Tumblr, dm me and I have a discord server we could head off to and create a private channel in.

I will not do nsfw rp as human Jackie unless he is over 18.

SG Wheeljack is very selfish and cruel in the berth so please do keep that in mind if you wanna do nsfw rp with him. He brings up a lot of triggering content for some users. DM me for nsfw rp for him bc there is usually dubcon involved and I want to plot that very specifically with someone beforehand.

That said, I am always open to subjects such as: rape, dubcon, bondage, etc. I will also rp most kinks since Wheeljack is a bit of a freak in the sheets. Again. Please dm me first to discuss.

ABOUT THE MUN

The name’s Jackie, and I’m 21+

I am an artist, writer, and in general creative person. you can find my art here sometimes but mostly on @drunkjackieart, my art blog

I’m pretty much a goofy dumbass. i don’t make the rules

I work 6 days a week between two jobs, so y’know. if my replies are slow that is a contributing factor

sometimes i struggle to come up with replies, especially longer ones since i have to actually think these through. so do bear that in mind. i also struggle with depression, meaning my brain sometimes turns to literal mush when it comes to tryna be creative. sometimes it’s hard to get into the headspace to write when ya can barely get into the headspace to get up and function.

when asking mun questions, DO NOT ASK EXPLICIT PERSONAL NSFW QUESTIONS ABOUT ME. I WILL NOT ANSWER IDENTIFYING QUESTIONS ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE, INCLUDING MY PRIVATE LIFE. it makes me very uncomfortable, and while Wheeljack might answer those, i will not.

TAGS I USE

About, headcanons: #about jackie, #wheeljack answers

NSFW: #jackie’s frag life, #nasty, #valveplug

Mun stuff: #mun speaks, #mun post, #bitchjack speaks

Rule updates: #rules, #guidelines

#guidelines #rules #wheeljack's guidelines

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arianaofimladris · 6 years ago

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Mistakes

Chapter 1 http://arianaofimladris.tumblr.com/post/177132346092/mistakes

Chapter 2 http://arianaofimladris.tumblr.com/post/177159697417/mistakes

Chapter 3 http://arianaofimladris.tumblr.com/post/177206403712/mistakes

Chapter 4 http://arianaofimladris.tumblr.com/post/177375468317/mistakes

Chapter 5 http://arianaofimladris.tumblr.com/post/177520433452/mistakes

Chapter 6

The next day and a half was one feverish dream. Whatever Alcarino gave him, it sent Amras to sleep for the night and most of the following day. He barely remembered the moments when he woke. Every time there was Celegorm or Caranthir sitting by him and forcing him to answer their questions he did not remember later. But they let him sleep and didn’t touch his leg, so Amras wasn’t about to complain.

The second day he felt well enough to sit up and eat a proper meal. Later Alcarino changed his dressings, but didn’t bother him for long. Before he left, he closed the curtains and Amras was grateful for the dimness. Despite Alcarino’s herbs, his head was still pounding, but it was bearable in peace and darkness. Amras was drifting half asleep, but as the doors opened, he glanced at them, fully awake.

“How’s your head?” asked Maedhros quietly. He was wearing a cloak as if he was about to leave, and he had a map and a leather tube in his arms.

“Usually better,” muttered Amras, but he dragged himself up to sit. “But at least I no longer see you in double,” he sent his brother a crooked smile.

“Good, because I want to show you something before I go to Nolofinwe.” Maedhros sat down on the bed, confirming Amras’s suspicions. He placed the map on his knees, one of those Amras had made the previous Summer when they had gone exploring Eastern lands.

“We divided the lands with Kano,” said Maedhros, pointing at the lines running through the terrains on the East. The uneven line left no doubts who drew it, but Amras swallowed the light remark about ruining his work that way when he noticed his own name.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“You will go south,” stated Maedhros, pointing at the right spot on the map.

Amras blinked and wiped away his hair from his face, then looked at his brother with offense and disbelief.

“You are sending me away,” he said bitterly. “I made a mistake, I wasn’t careful enough and you are sending me away like a child, far from danger.”

“Don’t be silly.” Maedhros shook his head, as if that thought had never crossed his mind. “I was caught because of far more stupid actions. But you said there are good hunting forests on the South, so we thought it a suitable place for you. Besides, we will need supplies,” he added, rolling the map to put it in the tube.

“It’s Morifinwe who enjoys trading, not me,” Amras reminded him. He closed his eyes and winced. Sitting and talking made his head hurt more.

“This the final decision. I am going to present it to the king.” Maedhros tossed the tube over his shoulder. “We’ll talk when I’m back. Now rest,” he smiled warmly and squeezed his brother’s hand, then stood up and left, though Amras was about to object.

The youngest son of Feanor sat upright and tossed the blanket from his knees. He placed his legs carefully on the floor and reached for crutches Alcarino had brought him. The healer said nothing about getting up, but Amras was not going to just let Maedhros leave like that and pass the arrangements to the king.

He pushed himself up on his good leg, but as soon as he leaned on the crutches, he hissed, because his arms hurt more than he anticipated. He made two unsteady steps, but then his arms could no longer support his weight and slipped from the crutches. He fell.

His cheeks burned from humiliation and embarrassment way more than his arms and leg hurt. Amras sat and leaned against the bed. There was no way he could catch up with Maedhros, who was clearly in a hurry and had no time to wait for his youngest brother. Was he really so eager to forget the time of his own weakness that he didn’t even slow his pace? Yes, they began their preparations for travelling East when the Spring came, but those few more days would not make any difference.

Furious, Amras waited a moment, grateful that his brother closed the doors behind him and no one would see him like this from the corridor. He dragged himself back to bed, weak and sore, because moving reminded him about all the cuts and bruises he could ignore as he laid. He left the crutches on the floor and closed his eyes, hoping to sleep through the pounding in his head.

***

Walking quickly proved to be slow, tiring and painful. Though Amras learned to use the crutches quite quickly, his arms were still bothering him and he had to be careful, or else he would risk falling down again. Alcarino warned him to limit walking for a week or two and let his shoulders heal, but Amras had too much to do.

He wasn’t just going to swallow such humiliation. Maedhros could be the eldest and he was the one who took upon himself all the arrangements with Fingolfin, but during their private councils they could all express their opinions. But this time his brothers changed the arrangements at last moment, without even waiting for him to feel well enough to join them.

But firstly, there was a grim responsibility waiting for him – talking to the families of his fallen comrades. Amras had no doubts they already knew, but he felt he owed them to pass the news personally. He knew he survived only because he was mistaken for Maedhros. He was trying not to remember the filthy hands on him and the pain they inflicted, nor his fear when he thought Maedhros would not get him in time and later, when he thought the enemy managed to capture his brother again. He had no doubts nothing would have changed, but he couldn’t help but muse what if he hadn’t fallen off his horse, hadn’t broken his leg, hadn’t...

Amras sighed and got up from his chair, pleased that at least the pounding in his head stopped. He grabbed his crutches and limped to the doors.

***

The camp was buzzing with life. With each Spring day the preparations went forward. The yards were full of wagons that were going to transport their belongings. Caranthir expected the first groups to be ready within a few days. Even though there was no immediate reason to rush, he knew Maedhros wished to go East as soon as possible. It was indeed getting crowded by the lake.

As reluctant as he was, Caranthir had to admit that Maedhros’s decision about giving up the crown was showing positive results. Of course, there were still groups regarding the sons of Feanor and their elves with reluctance, but the majority welcomed the reconciliation with relief. Many families were brought together after long years of separation and they moved to the southern shore of the lake. Additionally, some elves from Finrod’s host liked the lands on the South and as their prince was going to stay in the North, they moved to go with the sons of Feanor.

Caranthir supervised the latest delivery from the Sindar, then went to the forge to pass Curufin their orders. The raw material they brought was of good quality, but it was less than it should have and it would be best for Curufin to decide what to do with it.

“I certainly wasn’t expecting you in here,” he commented at the doorstep as he saw his youngest brother.

Amras was sitting on a chest by the door, watching Curufin with a bored expression he didn’t even bother to conceal. He kept his leg outstretched and looked far from comfortable.

“They tore off the hook from my scabbard,” he replied indifferently. “I can’t repair it myself right now.”

Curufin snorted as if he doubted Amras could ever perform such a task. He didn’t stop working, but he seemed to be displeased with their company.

“Curvo, if you would, we have some stock to organise,” said Caranthir, heading straight to the point.

Curufin nodded and put the scabbard aside. Amras looked impatient and clearly displeased that his brother didn’t finish his work first. Caranthir had seen him earlier, limping around the camp with his hunters and he began to wonder why his brother was in such a hurry.

It took them a while before Curufin decided what to do with all the raw material, as the storages behind his forge were already full and some of it had to be transported elsewhere. When they finally returned to the workshop, Amras was still sitting there. He was so lost in thoughts, busy planning something, that he didn’t even grant his brothers a glance until Caranthir stood over him.

“Are you coming back home with me, or do you intend to sit here?”

Amras jerked and looked up. He kept his arms tightly crossed, resting on his lap.

“Curvo hasn’t finished yet,” he remarked. “I’ll wait.”

“I’ll bring it to you later,” offered Curufin. “It’s not like you need it right now anyway.”

“You overtaxed yourself, didn’t you,” Caranthir summed up, looking at his youngest brother. “Which one hurts more?”

“Left,” admitted Amras reluctantly, clearly not intending to move even for an inch. “I won’t be able to put any weight on it right now.”

Caranthir shook his head in disapproval, then put his arm around his brother and pulled him up from the chest. He took one of his crutches and slowly, step by step, they made their way to the house. He could see Amras’s right arm shaking with effort and once again Caranthir wondered what made him move so much, as it clearly served him ill.

Amras sat down on his bed with relief and pulled up his broken leg, but then he asked his brother to pass him a notebook and a quill. Undisturbed by the fact that he still had company, he started writing something down. He stopped only when his brother sat beside him and glanced at his notes with interest.

“Alright.” Caranthir crossed his arms and his keen eyes rested on Amras. “Care to tell me what are you up to?”

His youngest brother hesitated for a moment, then nodded. And answered.

#Mistakes #my fic #The Silmarillion fanfic #Amras #Caranthir #Maedhros #Curufin

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vergilsangel · 6 years ago

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Heartbreak Hotel

A/N: I know this isn’t a head-canon and I’m so sorry that I haven’t gotten to requests. I’m trying to get my muse back on track but I swear it has a short attention span. So, while you wait, here is some angst.

Warning: Heartbreak. Dark thoughts. Mentions of Promnis and Gladnoct (for those who don’t like the pairings)

Tagging: @the-missimmortal @finalfantasyxvnut @idiotflowerex @sheenablacky @mysticrainpain @jojolosthermojo @thickapple @catsorfries

If you wish to be tagged just send me an ask with your username or send me an IM! ^.^

“Take those back to Iggy and see if those are the mushrooms he wants.” Gladio said, handing you several mushrooms. You took the mushrooms in hand and nodded.

“Sure. I wonder if Prompto is doing okay, he said he wasn’t feeling well after supper.” You mused as you looked up at Gladio.

“Got a crush on him?” Gladio teased, making you frown.

“No,” You replied, then thought to yourself, ‘Not on him at least.’

You had been travelling with the boys for well over two months now. During that time, you had become very attached to a certain spectacled royal advisor. It wasn’t that hard to imagine why. Ignis was charming and kind. He looked out for everyone in the group, but in your mind, he looked out for you and Noctis the most. It was a joy to spend time with him, which was why any chance you got to talk to him, you took without hesitation.

The crush wasn’t recent, in fact, it began the moment you heard the man speak. For days after that, you got to know him more and fell more and more in love with the chef. It was your closest guarded secret. Not even Gladio knew about the infatuation. Lately, you had been working up the nerve to ask him out and you couldn’t help but think this was your chance. If Prompto was asleep when you got back, you would ask Ignis on a date.

“I’ll be back.” You promised and took off for camp. The sun was beginning to go down and you knew that you all had to hurry before the daemons came out.

“I hope Prompto feels better. He should with Ignis behind to take care of him.” You mused aloud. As you neared the campsite, you saw two people before the fire and knew it was Ignis and Prompto. Relief flooded you at the sight of Prompto on his feet. He must be feeling much better. But seeing him awake also left you with a slight disappointed feeling that you couldn’t go through with your plan. Perhaps there would be another time.

“They will be gone for a bit. I sent them to get mushrooms.” You heard Ignis say. It caused you to stop beside a tree near the haven, your mind reeling in confusion. Why would Ignis send them away?

“Don’t we have plenty? I mean Noct doesn’t eat them.” Prompto asked with a chuckle.

“We do, but I wanted time with you.” Ignis answered, a sly smirk on his face. His gloved hand came up and rested on Prompto’s cheek as his green eyes gazed into Prompto’s blue ones. Your heart was already fluttering in your chest.

“Oh? Little ‘ol me?” Prompto asked, echoing the smirk. Their lips met and your heart broke. Seeing the man you adored kissing one of your best friends broke your heart. You knew that if Prompto had known about the crush he would’ve talked you out of it, but you still felt a pang of hostility towards the sunshine boy.

A soft moan from Prompto snapped you out of your pain, causing you to hide behind the tree. What if this was wrong? What if it wasn’t a lover’s kiss but instead a friendly one? Maybe Prompto was ill and Ignis was relieved he was alright.

“Iggy? I love you.” Prompto said, his voice light.

“I love you, too, Prompto.” Ignis replied. You closed your eyes tightly, fighting back the tears as you realized Ignis had only been kind to you because he was kind. He had only looked out for you to turn attention away from him and Prompto. You quietly left, trying to keep your heart together until you could truly be alone.

But with each step you took, a chip would crumble away from your heart. You had experienced this pain before, but that didn’t make it any easier. You wondered if maybe you were just unlovable and that was why this kept happening to you. Several times before you had crushed on someone only to be shot down, but somehow this one hurt worse. It felt like a cut over another cut.

Finally, you came back to Gladio and Noct, but stopped in your tracks at the sight before you. Gladio and Noct were in the midst of a passionate making out session. Wasn’t Noctis supposed to get married to Lunafreya? Yet here he was passionately kissing and groping Gladio. It felt like salt in the wound as you watched them wage war with their tongues. Now, you felt like a fifth wheel. Gladiolus and Noctis were an item and so was Ignis and Prompto whereas you had no one. You were surrounded by people, yet you felt isolated and lonely.

You chucked one of the mushrooms at Gladio’s head, hitting him and making him and Noct both jump and separate in surprise. Any other time, you would’ve laughed and made a joke about them needing to get a room, but now wasn’t the time for it. Not when you were feeling so heartbroken and on the verge of tears.

“Oh! Uh…(Y/N), what did Ignis say?” Noct asked, trying to gloss over the fact that you caught he and Gladio together.

“These are the right ones.” You lied. You knew they were the right ones, but you didn’t want to tell Gladio and Noct that Ignis had lied to get them away from camp.

After picking the mushrooms and heading back to camp, you turned in early, not wanting to face any of them. If they wanted to be together you had no problem with it, but you wanted to nurse your broken heart in peace.

The next morning everyone packed up and piled in the car, Prompto had decided to give you the front seat despite your protests. During the car ride to Lestallum, an uncomfortable silence filled the car. Any other day, you would’ve been happy to have the front seat to be near Ignis. Any other day you would fantasize about Ignis and you driving around holding hands, the wind blowing through your hair. But those days were done now that you knew he was with Prompto.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright? You’ve been quiet since we left camp.” Ignis asked, snapping you out of your sour thoughts. The last thing you wanted was for him to know that you had seen him and Prompto together and that it had broken your heart.

“I’m fine. Didn’t sleep well.” You answered. In truth, you hadn’t. After you turned in, you lay in the tent with your back to the entrance so none of the boys would come in and see your tears.

“Well you can rest until we reach Lestallum. Once there, we will stay at the Leville and you can sleep better.” Ignis answered with a kind smile. You nodded, unable to bring yourself to return the smile. As you settled down and stared out the window, the dark thoughts from the night before hit you again and you struggled to hold them back. Why was it every time you fell for someone they never felt the same?

After reaching Lestallum and checking into the hotel, you lay on your bed in your private room and let your emotions go. Tears rolled down your cheeks in waves as you finally let your emotions break free. All the pain, all the heartbreak, all the negative thoughts you had about yourself and why you couldn’t be happy just once. In the midst of crying, a knock sounded at your door, making you quickly wipe your eyes.

“Who is it?” You called, grateful your voice held up.

“Ignis, may I come in?” Ignis asked. Your heart sank low in your chest as you flipped your wet pillow over. Of all the people to come to your door, it had to be the one who broke your heart without even trying.

“Yeah.” You answered, hoping you were hiding the fact that you had just cried well. Ignis stepped in and his eyes fell on you. Immediately he noticed your red puffy eyes and knew instantly that you had been crying.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been avoiding us all since last night. Are you ill?” He asked.

“No. I’m fine.” You replied. Ignis crossed his arms, giving you a flat look.

“(Y/N), it’s me, you can talk to me.” He tried, going to your side. Instantly, you were on your feet, stepping away from him. You didn’t want him to know. You didn’t want him feeling guilty over something he had no idea about. But your resolve was weakened by your anger and wanting him to know how much pain he inadvertently caused you. Even in your heart broken state, you knew that none of this was his fault.

“Not about this. I can’t talk to you about this.” You answered. You never heard him come to your side until you felt his hand on yours.

“You can tell me anything.” He implored, his green eyes filled with worry. Worry for you. Worry over a person he only saw as a friend and nothing more. Your resolve broke under that gaze.

“I saw you and Prompto kissing last night. The past few weeks I had been developing feelings for you and they were all crushed in one night.” You answered. Ignis’s eyes widened and a blush formed across his cheeks as he realized what this meant.

“(Y/N) I don’t know what to say. My apologies that I don’t return those feelings, but I guarantee you will find someone worthy of your love.” Ignis said, squeezing your hand. You removed your hand from his grip.

“I don’t want to hear that. Not from you. Not right now. I’m tired. I’m tired of getting my hopes up and having them smashed. I’m tired of falling for people and getting clobbered. I’m tired of this happening over and over to me.” The tears that had been falling before came again and fell down your cheeks.

“I’m tired of being alone. I’m calling Cor in the morning and I’m going to join him in the hunt for the lost tombs. I need time away. Right now I look at you and it hurts.” You continued. Ignis felt his own heart break at her words, but he sensed it would be best for everyone.

“I understand. You will always be welcome to join us again if you wish.” He said gently. You nodded and Ignis left you alone to heal your broken heart.

#Final Fantasy XV #Final Fantasy 15 #FFXV #FF15 #Final Fantasy #Ignis #Ignis Scientia #Ignis Stupeo Scientia #FFXV Ignis #FF15 Ignis #ignis fanfiction #ffxv fanfiction #ff15 fanfiction

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itsjustwhatfeelsrightmobile · 6 years ago

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Rules

HEAD’S UP:

To all of my “loyal followers”: I know you may feel familiar with my rules, but please skim them on every blog you follow. In particular, you will need to scroll down and read everything below the “Guilt-Free Icons” section as they change for each blog. Everything else, yes, will stay the same. Thank you for your time and thank you for following so many of my blogs!

LAST RULE UPDATE: July 16, 2018

Mun

General

My name is Kymani, but most people call me “Kaichu”, “Kai”, or “Ky”. Go with whichever you like! Please note, however, that I will only sign my blogs and asks with "Ky" or the occasional "Kaichu" so as not to be confused with the many 'Kai' users in the world. So if you ever see someone claim to be me while using that spelling... they a lie, fam.

I use she/her pronouns and am a cis female so feel free to correct me if I make any -phobic booboos.

Mun is over 25. I’m happy to share my real age, but not so much to update this with every birthday.

My discord is (not very) selectively available to mutuals. If you choose not to exchange this with me, this is more than fine; please just be aware that I blog hop very inconsistently so I may be hard to reach.

Mun faceclaims are Raichu, Marina (Splatoon 2), Iridessa, and occasionally Kagome Higurashi.

You can find links to all of my other active characters on my mun page.

Health

I have several physical and mental disabilities. These include, but are not limited to, Sickle Cell Anemia, Asthma, Depression, Anxiety, and moderate OCD.

Note that there are some things that will trigger my OCD and therefore I will often choose not to follow you for or unfollow for. They include but are not limited to: uncut posts; icons that aren’t circles or squares (circles/squares with excessive decoration is FINE); using full-sized reaction images; and/or a general lack of organization on the blog. Most of these can be addressed, but I will never pressure a mun to change their style or format for me.

I will generally make or have someone make update posts informing you of my hospitalizations. Sometimes I forget, though. In any case, if I’ve made it clear that I am feeling unwell, do NOT hassle me for replies or an explanation of my situation. I will block people for this.

Be aware: I am a chronically ill person with many characters whose writing schedule is dictated by both her health and muse. I will forget things and disappear/reappear for weeks to even a month at a time from my blogs. As well, I may be very obviously selective/biased, so if this will upset you, my blogs are not for you.

Also note: it is not uncommon for me to unfollow and refollow people but this is not intentional. As I manage tens of blogs, it is easy to forget which blog people will follow me on. If you notice me doing this, feel free to message me and/or block that account.

Lastly, it is incredibly important to understand that due to the fact that I have been on opioids since I was a child, I have impaired memory. I can and will forget things we’ve discussed/written and I just ask for your patience and understanding on this.

I am open to answering questions regarding my health, but I expect you to both know the basics about the diseases and have read THIS PAGE before you approach me.

Last on this point but HUGELY important: please do not approach me with questions or jokes about how many muses I write. It's officially at the point where it's only okay or funny if I do it. Cause the thing is I know you mean it as a complement. I know you do. But the answer, for the record, to that question is this: "The cold hard fact is that I'm no longer healthy enough to attend school or work. So I am at home all day every day with the time (if I am well) to run as many muses as I please and it may be the only thing keeping me sane." So please, just don't make the joke. I'll joke along with you, I'll try not to make you as sad as you just made me, but it makes me really sad to think about and I have to stop pretending it doesn't.

Personals

Do:

Go ahead and follow! I don’t mind as long as you follow the rules. (Breaking them consistently enough to notice will lead to a block though.)

Like RPs if you like them. (But try to make sure my partner’s okay with that, too!)

Send in memes and questions; just don’t expect them to turn into a thread or anything.

Tell me if you’re following on behalf of a side RP blog cause I won’t check/know otherwise! (Only matters if you follow first.)

Don’t:

Reblog my promos.

Reblog my OOC posts.

Reblog my roleplays.

Following

This is a selective and private blog. This means I don’t follow everyone and I only RP with mutuals.

Please do not message me asking for an RP if we are not mutuals. I understand that you’re just reaching out, but it really makes me anxious and I will feel extremely guilty. Therefore, all messages of this kind will be deleted. Repeated attempts will lead to a block.

I will not follow blogs without a rules page. Very very rare exceptions are made for blogs that I know for fact are mobile-only. I am slightly more lenient when it comes to about pages, but only if there is significant writing on the blog for me to read through instead.

I am OC and selectively crossover friendly.

I’m cool with multimuse blogs as long as your muses each have an about page for me to read over. I won’t be making exceptions here simply because I find it impractical to go through the blog and look for writing for each specific muse I want to interact with.

I may several weeks to follow back. This may be due to illness or just not noticing because of how many blogs I run.

I eventually unfollow mutual-only blogs who have not followed me back. This is simply because I like to know I can RP with those on my dash and nothing more.

I do not follow blogs that exclusively use real-life faceclaims (rlfc). I will also not RP with rlfc, so if you have a verse that only uses a rlfc, I won’t RP with it. Please note that this applies to people roleplaying live-action characters, as well. Thanks for understanding.

Interaction & Replies

I am EXTREMELY selective about roleplaying with muns under the age of eighteen. Trying to deceive me about your age will lead to a BLOCK.

I am open to using messaging for OOC interaction at all times. IC interactions must be agreed upon beforehand.

All of my open starters and starter calls are for mutuals only unless otherwise stated. Repeated offenses for non-mutuals liking my starter calls will lead to a block.

I go through my thread tracker whenever my total thread count across all accounts exceeds 11O. I will try to message my partners about threads I drop but understand that I may not always have the energy to do so. You are always welcome to ask about the status of our threads so long as you remain polite and tactful.

Shipping

My blogs will always be multiship.

With that said, I’m almost always a ship-exclusive kind of girl. That means I’ll ship with one version of each character.

I like my ships to develop naturally, so even if it seems like I prioritize friends, know that you can always shoot me an ask and as long as it’s not a notp I’m always open to tossing the characters at each other and giving it a shot.

There are two exceptions to ship exclusivity for me: 1) i’ve decided to do one ship per verse and therefore duplicates are fine or 2) i’m playing a character with a canon ship.

Tags & Triggers

My blogs are never spoiler-free. For TV-show based blogs, the most recent episode aired in its native language will be tagged as a spoiler until the next episode airs. For games, I tag and try to readmore spoilers for a few months. Threads themselves may or may not be tagged if the line is sort of blurry. Always, therefore, read with caution.

I am blocking the tag #Ky Don’t Look/#Ky Dont Look for phobias related to penises, water, and a few other things. It is imperative that you read over my BLOCKED TAGS AND TRIGGERS for full details.

These triggers are often related to trauma and can give me panic attacks and/or depressive episodes. I will gently remind you a few times, but if it becomes a repeated issue, I will unfollow.

If you need anything special tagged or I’ve forgotten something, please let me know! I won’t bite.

NSFW & Smut

Many of my blogs will contain nsfw themes including but not limited to: themes of depression, violence, bullying, etc. These are rarely (if ever) tagged but can be by request.

Themes that are considered to be “trigger-heavy” will always have their own disclaimer.

Regarding smut: sometimes it’s difficult for me, sometimes it’s not. I can be extremely squeamish regarding the topic, so I’m very fickle when it comes to these threads. I ask, very simply, that partners who engage in these types of threads with me understand that I likely won’t finish these threads and that they do not push for replies on these. (Like, ever.) It will make me more self-conscious and, if I’m already panicking about a reply, it will only make it worse.

With that said, I would appreciate it if you didn’t baby me by disallowing me to write these threads. If it makes you personally uncomfortable to write them with me, that’s fine. But it has been deemed a safe and valuable practice by my counselor for me to continue to explore this subject so that, hopefully, I will become more and more comfortable with it. So when I’m interested in writing sexual nsfw, please don’t feel as though you need to shy away from me!

Aside from all of that, general rules apply: I won’t write sexual nsfw with anyone under the age of eighteen. (Although with that said, given my age, I tend to prefer my smut partners to be twenty-one and older. This is a soft rule, though, as my comfort with the partner outweighs a numerical value.) I also will not write any other kind of nsfw with anyone under the age of sixteen.

PS: when it comes to aged up characters, aged up x aged up is okay. aged up x canon adult is not. I am not the kind of person who will get all judgemental if you do it with other people, but I won’t personally engage in it. Understand though that I only consider it to be aging-up if the mun is aging their character beyond the natural progression of time. (So if Character A was 10 when they debuted but would have been 15 by the time they met Character B anyway I don't consider it to be aging-up.) For more of my opinion of the topic, please click here.

Activism & “Drama”

In this house, discussion about x-isms, x-phobias, and injustices as it relates to the roleplay community and/or the pokemon community is NOT considered drama and therefore it will NOT be tagged as such. HOWEVER:

While most of my blogs will NOT have a tag for it at all, should it come up, I will create an #activism tag for the blog. So yes, you will have a tag to block if you are genuinely discomforted by the conversation, but no, I will not conflate it with “drama”.

If you’re reading this on writtenbykaichu or a blog that features a dark-skinned person of color, please be aware that issues such as these are much more likely to be discussed.

Guilt-Free Icons

Yes, I am a mod at guiltfreeicons–Jerry Mod, to be exact.

I will, on very rare occasions, make posts regarding taking requests. Those posts are considered active for 48 hours after the ORIGINAL post was made.

If you need to ask a question about GFI, first read the rules. Then, try contacting us here. If that doesn’t work, contact us here. Most importantly:

Never ever I mean NEVER message me or any of the other mods regarding guiltfreeicons (or making icons for you on the side) on any of our personal or roleplay blogs. We WILL auto-block over this.

Miscellaneous

IMPORTANT: I am currently beta testing for rpthreadtracker.com. Because the beta website could be altered or lost at any time, I will try to backup my threads on the current version of the website. With that said, I will be focusing on using the Beta versions, so please click the [BETA] links first and alert me immediately if they give you any sort of trouble so I can update the trackermod. Thanks guys!

This blog will not RP with male gemsonas--no exceptions.

As a general rule, I am okay with gemlings as long as they are not directly related to Amethyst (daughter, sister, etc.)

I consider Amethyst's canon character development to be incredibly rushed, so on this blog you may feel as though I've knocked her back a few steps. This is so that I may work on her development at a fairer pace. (And yes, if you know me, it is also for the angst.)

Always always always plot out fight threads with me. We don't have to come up with things step-by-step ahead of time, but I expect to stay in contact with you throughout so that we can be on the same terms with where we're going and who's doing what.

Credits

Many of my Raichu base icons were gifted to me by thunderstonereject. If you would like access to these icons, you will need to ask them for their permission. Any public-use icons I have can be found at guiltfreeicons. All edits were made by me and are for my own personal use.

All Marina icons were made by me and are available to the public on guiltfreeicons. Edits, of course, are for and by me and not for public use.

All Iridessa icons were made by myself and Pebbles Mod and are available to the public on guiltfreeicons. All edits were made by me and are for my own personal use.

Credits for Kagome Higurashi base icons can be found here. All edits were made by me and are for my own personal use.

Amethyst Art & Icon credits can be found here.

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destellarum · 6 years ago

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･ﾟ✧RULES & GUIDELINES☽༓✩

I. AFFILIATION

This is an Independent Soraka rp blog. I have no ties with Riot Games, nor do i claim ownership of the character or game. I simply role play they character i have grown to love and adore for so long. The only things i own on this blog are my own thoughts and potential art i may or may not post.

This is my take on Soraka, she can be aggressive, violent and will kill you if you push her or if she needs to protect someone. I do not condone her actions. If she is not your cup of tea the unfollow button is at the top.

II. BASIC RULES

NO GODMODDING! That one is pretty self explanatory and obvious. Just don’t do it. It isn’t fun for anyone.

Multiple threads with one person are welcomed.

Tag your content, as i tag mine!

Don’t send hate/anon hate. You’re just wasting your own time and i simply just ignore and block anyways ^^

Racist, sexist, Transphobic/homphobic/heterophobic muns are NOT welcome here.

Please cut your posts!

Mun =/= Muse.

Basic rp etiquette applies.

III. FOLLOWING & INTERACTIONS

I am not a exclusive, private or even mutual only rp blog. I interact with anyone and everyone this includes Ocs, Furries, Other fandoms.

I RP with nearly any fandom except JOJO’S BIZARRE ADVENTURE and DANGANRONPA which i ask to be tagged, please. I have my own reasons for this. Please respect that.

I’m shy as hell so feel free to send anything, I’m shit at starters, but I try.

I prefer to rp with +18 muns. Sorry, but i’m 23 that shit’s weird and i prefer to stick with other adults. This doesn’t mean i won’t rp with you though, however i will not rp with anyone under -16.

IV. ACTIVITY

my presence on tumblr may be sporadic. I have a lot of chores at home i do and spending time and gaming with my friends.

I forget a lot though so if i haven’t responded in a week or two feel free to poke me, just don’t nag.

Replies can take some time too, I am dyslexic ad might mess up a response or take a long time reading.

V. CONTENT

Topics surrounding serious blood, injury, illness, possible religious themes and just violence in general will be present here.

gore and nsfw can be rped on request and tagged appropriately.

VI. NSFW

NSFW is welcomed, this can include sexual themes, gore and violence which all will be appropriately tagged and common for Soraka. Regarding sexual nsfw, She will not just jump into sex with you, that’s where ship chemistry comes into play.

Other NSFW regarding violence, Soraka can and will hurt you if you provoke her. You have been warned. More in depth violence can be role played upon request, tagged appropriately. I will not control or kill off your muse without permission. I ask you do the same.

NSFW

REMEMBER TO FILTER OUT/BLOCK THIS TAG TO AVOID MY NSFW POSTS;

･ﾟ✧ѕυcн ℓυѕт ιи тнєιя нєαятѕ.☽༓✩ ( nsfw )

VII. DRAMA

I’m here to rp. Not get involved in pretty drama. I do not take sides and if you have a problem with me thats ok. I won’t feed into anything and just block.

tag callout posts, please.

VIII. SHIPPING

I’m a complete shipping whore! Feel free to hit up Soraka however she is not easy to woo, keep this in mind. You have to be close to her and she has to trust you.

This blog is completely ship chemistry! However i love the idea of of pre established relationships so feel free to message me about any ships you might want to do!

IX. FINAL

Thank you for reading my rules, i look forward to role playing with you all and making some new friends, i do not have a rule password but if you want to tell me you read my rules by all means go ahead!

Last updated 11. 6. 20.

0 notes

balladserial · 6 years ago

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Episode 1: Part 4

“Alright,” says Captain Warring, placing both hands firmly on the handrail that guards the ledge she’s standing on, above the rest of the crew.

It’s an unseasonably cold night, and the wind rushing by the ship doesn’t exactly help matters, but Captain Warring looks unfazed as always. The cold wind doesn’t even seem to rustle her hair as she speaks. Cold as ice.

I put down my bow and lower my fiddle to my side, and the rest of the crew assembles. Clairvoyance is here, in a hulking squarish body built for muscle over anything else, along with Gratitude (clutching his wool cape around him for warmth), Mikael, and Athens. It’s hardly the warmest place for a crew meeting, but hey. I can’t say I don’t appreciate the gravitas.

“Alright?” Athens echoes, her tail whipping just a bit from impatience.

Apparently, the captain has been no less cryptic to her first mate than to the rest of us.

“So,” Captain Warring continues, unfazed, “I’ve touched base with one of my contacts inside the Guard, and they confirmed, more or less, what was on the note Joane recovered during yesterday’s…hubbub. There is, indeed, a transport vessel by the name of the P.A.S. Condor docking in West Compassion at the end of the week. I wasn’t able to get a good report on what, exactly, the Condor is carrying, but it appears to be ammunition of some kind, headed for the capital. Whatever it is, the haul could be worth a killing. No word on what kind of security we’re looking at, but I know the Principality. The possibility that someone might intercept their secret shipment probably hasn’t even crossed their minds.”

Clairvoyance leans forward a bit, resting her chin on the back of her hand.

“You want this to be our next job,” she observes with a hint of a smile in her voice.

I don’t blame her. I trust the captain and all, but I think we can all tell we’re in desperate need of some profit.

“If it’s only munitions, I suppose it’s not so bad,” muses Gratitude out loud, his discomfort plain for all to see. I nudge him a bit, and he shoots me a glare.

“Well,” I chip in, “I, for one, think it’s a great plan. And Captain, if you’re open to it, I think this could be an excellent time for me to get in some real ground work-”

“Absolutely not,” says Captain Warring flatly, and I wince.

“Captain,” I say softly. “I know I’m still, uh…in trouble, but I was the one who got the intel in the first place, and I really think I’m ready-”

“You also got yourself hurt and got separated from the rest of the crew,” she points out, unmoved. “Joane, we’ve discussed this several times, and I still don’t think you actually understand why you’re in trouble.”

Despite my best efforts to keep my cool, I can feel hot blood rushing to my face. My grip on the neck of my fiddle tightens.

“With all due respect, Captain,” I say slowly, between clenched teeth, “I wouldn’t be such a liability in the field if you ever actually gave me the chance to hone my skills.”

“Tal,” Gratitude interjects with an air of detached politeness that makes me want to leap out of my skin, “I think perhaps what the captain is saying is that your problem is not your inexperience, but your abject recklessness in the face of danger and your complete inability to plan ahead.”

“Fuck off, Gratitude,” I snarl. “What do you know, you grew up in a convent.”

“A better upbringing, I’d say, than living amongst the gutter trash.”

My hand balls into a tight fist, but before I can slug Gratitude in the face, a firm grip closes around my wrist. I glance up.

Athens is standing there, her usual cocky grin replaced by an air of thick disappointment. One hand is restraining my punching arm, while the other maintains a tight grip on Gratitude’s shoulder. If looks could kill, hers would be drilling a coin-sized hole through the center of my skull.

“Actually, Captain,” she says sweetly, turning her attention up to where Captain Warring is standing, massaging her temples. “I have a much better idea of how to deal with this situation, if you’ll allow.”

Captain Warring looks up, and the dark circle under her eye is more visible than ever.

“I’m listening.”

“Fuck this,” I moan, pulling the brim of my Principality Navy regulation hat down over my face. If the other night was unseasonably chilly, midday at the docks of West Compassion is overbearingly muggy. If Arcadia V really does have a living spirit, as some claim, clearly She missed the memo that it’s supposed to be September.

“Language,” Gratitude mutters next to me.

Not that he’s in any place to judge. He’s doing no better than me, judging by the irritated way he keeps tapping his foot on the rough cobblestone of the harbor. His Navy uniform is a tad ill-fitting; the shoulders hang a bit loose and the double-breasted jacket doesn’t quite sit right. I imagine mine doesn’t look all that good either, if the tightness around my hips is anything to go by, but I suppose that’s what you get out of last-minute disguises.

West Compassion is a small city, only about a day’s trip from Greater Mercy. By and large, it’s a trading outpost, and few people aside from an odd collection of merchants, traders, and those who make money off travelers actually live here. But the view from the harbor is extraordinary. Even with the sunlight beating down in waves on both our heads, it looks just as lovely glinting off the clouds below the jutting, stone docks, making the sky below shine just like I imagine the real ocean might. And all along the way, rows and rows of airships line the docks, ranging from small birding vessels to enormous, hulking freighters. And in front of us, an iron-sided freight ship, held aloft by a large and unwieldy balloon, with its name stamped in regulation type on the side.

The P.A.S. Condor.

“Welp,” I say with as little enthusiasm as possible. “We better climb onboard. We’re going to miss orientation.”

Gratitude swallows and pauses to adjust his head covering (the ornate veil swapped out for a simple blue bandana) before stepping forward onto the dock. A long moment passes where there’s no conversation but the faint sound of feet on stone, the cries of cliff-dwelling birds and the whistling of the wind.

“I imagine you’re also mad at me over this Hellfire business,” Gratitude says finally.

I frown.

“No,” I reply. “Why would I be?”

Gratitude gestures vaguely in the air, as if grasping for the words he needs floating around his head.

“You...haven’t exactly made a secret of your disdain for me, and given our…incompatible faiths, it seemed pretty obvious that you would side with Athens on the matter.”

I roll my eyes.

“Gratitude, I don’t not get along with you because I’m Jewish.”

“That-” He stumbles over his words quickly. “Tal, that is not what I meant. I just thought that-”

I smirk a little and shove him, making him windmill a little to avoid falling into the guardrail. He exhales in a little puff of irritation.

“I understand,” I say. “You figured that because I don’t share your religious beliefs, I’d be totally gung-ho to jump in on ‘bash the Exodist’ hour. Rest assured, buddy. I don’t care even a little bit about Hellfire except that I’d prefer not to get killed by it. Hell, there are places where fire is really important to Jewish worship. So like. Keep your weird magic god fire, I really do not care.”

“It’s not my-” Gratitude mutters. “It’s not like I can summon it-”

He clamps his mouth shut as we finally approach the gangplank at the end of the dock. The Condor looms above us, and I find myself correcting my posture instinctually. There’s something about a ship like this that really makes you wanna play soldier. Luckily, that’s exactly what we’re here to do.

We stand at the foot of the plank for what feels like forever until we finally hear the unmistakable sound of heeled boots on metal approaching us. Out of the shadows, we can see a figure climb down the ramp and set foot, finally, in front of us.

The figure is a woman, seemingly, tall with light skin and amber eyes, and a spattering of freckles across her long, sharp nose. She looks in her early thirties if I had to hazard a guess, and her sandy brown hair is swept into a neat style at the back of her neck. Her clothes look...decidedly unlike the standard naval uniform of the Principality: a slightly open white button-down shirt with an unbuttoned brocade coat that sweeps behind her as she walks. Her trousers are high-waisted and adorned with brass buttons that look...pretty expensive.

“You two the ballast we’re picking up here?” she asks flatly, fiddling with a toothpick in one hand. “I gotta say, real weird that the Principality is sending its goons to babysit us, but as long as we get the paycheck…”

I glance sideways at Gratitude, who is already glancing at me. I shrug.

“Um,” I say eloquently. “Yes sir. I’m Ensign Lee Mirage, and this is Ensign Merriment Sign-Your-Agreement-Eternally-Binding.”

The woman raises one thin eyebrow.

“I’m, er, I’m a medical officer, sir,” says Gratitude. “Here are our papers, they should check out alright.”

Gratitude hands the woman a brand new set of fakes, which she scans quickly. She exhales, seemingly satisfied.

“Sir,” I venture. “I apologize, we were under the impression that this was a Principality naval vessel.”

She laughs out loud and hands our papers back to Gratitude. The sun glints off something shiny in her mouth- a single gold tooth.

“Aw, sweetheart,” she says with a hint of glee. “They really don’t teach y’all anything over there.”

She sticks out a hand, and I shake without thinking. The enthusiasm in her handshake nearly pulls my arm out of its socket.

“Mirage, Merry, it’s good to meet you. My name’s Adonis Fleetfoot, but that’s Captain Fleetfoot to you.” She grins. “Welcome aboard the Condor, and welcome to my privateering crew- the Last Stand of Dignity!”

Gratitude and I shoot each other another bewildered look.

This is gonna be a long mission, isn’t it.

[Episode 1 Part 3] - [Episode 1 Part 5]

#story #Ballad serial

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