#they would NEVER be friends if not for athos (and they would never hate each other so much if not for him too)

[widevibratobitch]

i hate them with a passion

[sarksarkos]

DC 1956: World's Finest does not know what to do with itself.

This is World's Finest #82, and I really have to ask you, Batman, Superman, small child, is this the best use of your time? You really want to be solving mysteries in 17th century France? Alright. Welcome to the Gutters.

So this is going to be a trip. There was a recurring figure in silver age DC comics named Professor Carter Nichols, who would be used to send Batman and Robin back in time through hypnosis. Yes, really. This happened multiple times. Hold your questions until the end, please.

He announces his intention to use this time travel hypnosis to discover the identity of the Man in the Iron Mask, a real historical figure who was a state prisoner from 1669 until his death in 1703, during the reign of Louis XIV of France. And this is a legit historical mystery, to this day we do not know whomest this figure is, and we may never know because we have just so many more problems to deal with right now.

Superman, a man who can deal with all of the world's problems in like one day if the conventions of the narrative would let him, happens to hear Professor Nichols give a lecture about this and decides that he wants to join Batman on this adventure because his X-Ray vision would allow him to see through the mask. Not, like, because of his superhuman strength or invulnerability, just his X-Ray vision. He also casually remarks that he could do this himself but he wants Batman and Robin to come along.

Already we've negated the whole premise of the story. This is Superman saying that he could do this whole thing by himself, and Batman and Robin are there just because that's what the comic is about.

Superman and friends travel back in time to the year 1696 - it specifically says 1696 - and immediately, immediately, they run into D'Artagnan and the (offscreen) three Musketeers. I believe that the timeline is meant to be 1669 (nice) and they just made a typo that made it through to the final copy, so I won't begrudge them issues about the timeline. They mention that the Man in the Iron Mask was captured recently, so that places this story in 1669.

We've got two ways to go from here. D'Artagnan was a real person, but the version in the book is a highly fictionalized portrayal that was itself based on a work of fiction. Each of the Three Musketeers were also real people, although they didn't know D'Artagnan, there was no real team called the Three Musketeers, and most of the events of the book were sensationalized. However, none of the Three Musketeers are named in this story, so there's some wiggle room.

If this is supposed to be real history, then the real Charles de Batz de Castelmore d'Artagnan would have been a man pushing 60 and stuck as a governor in Flanders. He hated the job and everyone hated him having the job, but you can't say no to the king. The real Athos was dead, the real Aramis was possibly dead, and the real Porthos was feasting, drinking, and whoring until he was 95, because he's a goddamn legend. Characters in this story see Superman bouncing cannonballs off his chest and assume he's Porthos, and they are right to do so.

In this comic, D'Artagnan already knows who the Man in the Iron Mask is, and it seems to be a popular rumor among the people, if not common knowledge. Spoiler warning, this answer is correct. Naturally, both the prisoner and the evil chancellor who holds him there are made up people, which is wild because the list of actual suspects for the Man in the Iron Mask is as long as Porthos' dick.

That brings us to the second possibility, that is that the events of the Three Musketeers books were real and the World's Finest team are traveling back into the existing storyline. In which case, the prisoner's identity should King Louis XIV's secret twin brother Phillipe, shouldn't it? And then Porthos and Aramis should be secretly plotting to replace the real king with Phillipe and take over.

We're trapped in a weird sort of limbo here. We have a story where Batman and Superman are teaming up, but they establish that Superman is largely able to do it by himself and Batman is basically there as a favor. We have a mystery where the solution is casually revealed on the third page. We have a historical story that blends elements of the real life and popular fiction without actually taking any of the interesting bits from either of them.

There is some faffing about where Superman saves everyone with a blink of his super-eyelashes and Batman and Robin do absolutely nothing. Superman is put on guard duty while Batman and Robin go to get the king, a job that they fail in every way. Not only do they knock the Sun King unconscious by accident, their attempt to bring Louis XIV to the Bastille only alert their enemies, who set off a James Bond death trap to kill the man in the iron-

Psych! Did you think there would be narrative tension, you idiot? You absolute buffoon? Espèce d'idiot qui n'a rien de mieux à faire que d'inventer des insultes fleuries en français dans Google Traduction? This is the literal next page, and the Man in the Iron Mask is fine, because Superman took care of everything offscreen, because he is Superman. All Batman and Robin did was bring the king there, a thing that Superman could have easily done. This guy once brought Hitler and Stalin to the League of Nations at the same time, he is not even going to be inconvenienced by having to travel from the Bastille to Versailles, a distance of less than twenty miles.

As soon as Louis XIV finds out what's going on, he immediately orders the good guy freed and the bad guy put in the iron mask, to preserve the timeline. Superman, Batman, and Robin look at this horrific torture say "Sounds good, Louis XIV, a historical good person." Just the sight of some of our greatest heroes toadying up to one of history's notorious autocrats. In 200 years they're going to be giving this exact same treatment to Donald Trump.

The kicker to this? Something that I found out just as I got to writing this part of the blog post? There was no iron mask. It's fake. They made it up, and by 'they' I mean Voltaire. The actual prisoner wore a mask of "black velvet," which I imagine was terribly comfortable! I think everyone will be wearing them in the future! You know who else wears a mask like that? BATMAN. They could have had Batman be the man in the iron mask and Superman has to rescue him from the past! How do you do that? I don't know! But it's a plot!

God, I am angry at this. I never wanted to become a 2000s angry reviewer... well, this is a lie, I even submitted a video to the Nostalgia Critic's website back before we all knew better... But I didn't want to be angry on this specific blog. But wow, this makes me angry. This is just a classic example of tripping over your own dick, and then somehow hanging yourself with it.

Finally, though, after too long spent waiting... the Flash. Until next time.

[backtothefanfiction]

Rain Grows | Aramis x Reader Imagine

Summary: sometimes we all just need a good cry.

Length: Short

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, depressed feelings

A/N: as usual at the moment, I’m feeling very emotional and angsty and need some hurt comfort from one of my boys. Tonight I chose Aramis.

It was like someone had blown out the candle inside you. The one that kept things running. Your spark. Your hope. Now- there was nothing.

You had always been known for your joy. Your bright smile. That small skip in your step. You had kind words for everyone. But now- now you just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry.

The moment the candle went out, it was like a delay, the smoke making you hazy as you aimlessly wandered around the market in a daze. All the usual faces tried to say “hi” to you, but you couldn’t seem to say it back. You couldn’t even give them your usual toothy grin. Your new polite tight lipped smile became the hushed talk of the market- and it only made you feel worse.

When one of the older ladies finally asked you if you were okay, it made your heart ache. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know how to act. This had never happened to you before. Then suddenly his name was echoing around your hollow skull. Your knight in roughed up leathers. He always made your heart skip a beat and brought a smile to your lips and a blush to your cheeks. You just had to see Aramis and everything would be okay.

When you got to the garrison it was empty, most of the musketeers- the inseparables included- were all up at the palace and not due back for a while yet. So you decided to wait. And wait. And then wait some more.

Feeling hollow and empty, you sat yourself on the steps that lead up to the Captain’s office and you waited. Your fingers fiddled idly with your skirts, the rough fabric rubbing against your fingertips grounding you and giving you something to focus on as you waited for the time to pass. 20 minutes. Half an hour. 1 hour. 2. 3.

When it began to rain, you still didn’t move. The cold drops of early spring rain hit the back of your neck- your arms- droplets running down and soaking into your clothes. But you didn’t care. You barely noticed. You had completely checked out, that empty darkness seeping out and wrapping its tendrils around every fibre of your being. You were vaguely aware of the passing looks of the stable hands and a few passing musketeers, but you never looked, never paid them attention, just kept your focus on your one mission. Waiting for Aramis and not completely falling apart until he got here.

*****

“Ahhh, I do love the rain.” Aramis hummed to himself and smiled as he took his hat off and allowed the water to wash over him.

“He’s mad.” D’Artagnan muttered to Porthos and Athos as the four of them made their way back down the street towards the garrison.

Porthos chuckled, “Is that so?” He said to his friend, clapping him on the shoulder, “because I remember just last week you said you hated it.”

“Ahh yes, but that’s because it was still Winter then my friend.” Aramis said back, “Spring is here now. The birds are returning, the flowers are blooming,” his fingers reached to brush across the petals of a couple of blooming flowers in a window box they passed.

“And it’s not so cold.” Athos finished Aramis’ sentence for him, in his usual droll tone.

“Exactly!” Aramis smiled enthusiastically, sweeping his hat back onto his head.

“Afternoon boys.” A fellow Musketeer said as he made his way in the opposite direction, away from the garrison from where he had just come.

“Benoit.” They each greeted him, none of them intending to stop, until he did.

“Umm, Aramis, you should know, there’s a young woman waiting for you. Been there a while.”

“Does this lady have a name?” Athos asked.

“She didn’t say, was just asking after Aramis, but I think it’s that girl who works down at the tavern on-“

Aramis didn’t need Benoit to say which tavern, he already knew it was you. But you never visited him at work. You’d seek him out in the tavern- sure- but you never sought him out outside of your work. “How long has she been waiting?” He asked.

“I’d say just gone 3 hours.” Benoit replied before he began to start walking in the direction of his next destination again.

“3 hours?” Porthos said.

“In this weather?” D’Artagnan added.

“Shit, it must be really bad.” Porthos continued, a hint of amusement beginning to fill his voice as he prepared to make a joke and mock his closest friend, “Don’t tell me you got her knocked up?” He began to joke, but Aramis’s face had grown serious.

He ignored his friends as he began to pick up speed, his brisk walk turning into a light jog as he left them behind to run on ahead. You had been waiting for him for over three hours. Why? It had to have been important if you were willing to stay there and wait in the rain for him.

His pace slowed as he came through the gate to the garrison, your rain soaked body near frozen on the stairs as you looked down at your fingers. He found himself pulling his hat off of his head in respect. His steps towards you were slow and tentative, as if he were stalking an animal in the woods, not wishing to startle it, just get a better look. He suddenly froze mere feet away from you as Porthos’s booming and defensive voice grew closer to the gate, making you look up at him like a startled deer.

“Hey- hey…” he said in ever softer tones as if to soothe you and make sure you were okay, “it’s okay.” He said. You both looked away from each other to his brothers as they came into view of the gate, their hesitating eyes locking on the two of you and your more somber faces, each giving you both a silent nod of acknowledgment before passing by and making their way inside.

“You should come inside,” Aramis said, taking another gentle step closer to you, “dry off-“ but his words got trapped in his throat when your eyes met his. They were so scared. So worried. “What is it? What’s happened?” He asked, placing his foot up on the bottom step and leaning in to you, his fingers instinctively reaching out for your face. He forced you to keep your eyes on him. Silently reassured you that he saw your pain and had no intention of averting his eye or looking away.

You had no words. You thought the moment you saw him it would magically make things better, but it didn’t. You didn’t know what else to do now. You had waited in the rain all afternoon in the hopes that you would see his face and it would make everything okay. Now you were just wet. Empty and wet. Your chest sagged, heart breaking and suddenly the dam broke too. Tears filled your eyes and big chest wracking sobs burst free. Aramis quickly shucked off his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders. He then sat himself beside you on the step and wrapped you in his arms.

His embrace was comforting, the smell of his leather familiar. He kissed the top of your head as you just cried. Your tears mingled with the rain on your cheeks and after a few attempts of trying to brush them away for you, Aramis just gave up and held you tighter and continued to let you cry. “There, there,” he cooed softly as he slowly rocked you back and forth on the step, “let it all out.”

“I’m sorry.” Your broken voice said between sobs, but he wouldn’t accept it.

“Now, now, there’s nothing to be sorry about.” He said with another kiss to the top of your wet head.

After another few minutes wrapped up in his embrace, your sobs began to break. “There, there.” He continued to gently say, “it’s okay, I’ve got you,” he repeated, until your breathing was finally under control again and your tears ceased to fall anymore, the rain seaming to also grow lighter too.

As you pushed yourself up away from his chest, wiping at your face as you tried to meet his eyes, his own hands moving to replace your own to do the task for you, you slowly attempted to find your voice once more. “I’m sorry.” You said again. “I just-“ but you couldn’t find the words to explain what happened… because truly you didn’t know what happened, but with his presence, his kindness and warmth, the safety of his arms protecting you as you allowed yourself to shatter into a million pieces, it somehow eased the tension in your chest. You still felt a little bit empty, but now you felt lighter.

“It’s okay.” He said to you again as he smoothed back a sopping wet strand of your hair from your face. Already he could see the light in your eyes returning. He looked hesitantly down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. He’d wanted to kiss them for a while, the way you’d nibble on them and blush when you saw him and give him not your big smiles you gave to everyone else, but your smaller adorable, bashful and intimate ones. But now, knowing he meant so much to you that when you were hurting, he was the only one you’d share your vulnerability with, it made him want to kiss you even more. But now was not the time. Instead he decided to use his mouth instead to distract. “Do you know why I love the rain?” He asks you, his fingers reaching out to intertwine with your cold ones as he looks out towards the gates of the garrison.

“No.” You reply as you carefully watch his face from the side, the corners of his lips turning up as the dark clouds above began to pass and make way for a clearer skies.

“Because it washes away the old and makes everything clean, ready to start a fresh.” He says proudly, his chest puffing up slightly as he turns his head to share his grin with you and it makes the corners of your own mouth twitch, a faint ghost of a smile slowly gracing your features, observing his boy like wonder about the world.

“It also,” he continues, his thumb rubbing gently across the back of your hand, “brings life.” He smiles. “It waters the plants and helps the flowers to bloom and the crops to grow. There’s so much wonder in the rain. Everyone gets so caught up in it, you know. Their clothes get wet and the shoes get muddy. But it’s so much more than that. Plus,” he says, standing and pulling you up with him, “when it eventually passes and the sun begins to shine again, sometimes,” he says, pulling you into the centre of the garrison, his eyes moving in small searching flashes to the sky until they stop and he too stops, turning you in the right direction to see what he does, “you get to see truly rare beauty that no amount of money in the world could buy.”

His hands rest on your shoulders from behind and his finger points up to the sky- and there you see it, faint at first, but slowly growing stronger. A rainbow. It makes you smile. A full one this time too. You feel his body relax behind you at the sight of it and you can’t help but relax back into him again, your smile growing content.

“See, even the sky cries some times.” He says into your ear, and you can feel the smile on his lips with how close his mouth is to it.

“And maybe it sends rainbows to let us know it was a good cry.” You turn your head and smile at him.

He beams, a small breathy chuckle escaping his lips. With a warm twinkle in his eye, he kisses your temple in agreement. “Sometimes we all just need a good cry.” He confirms.

[readercognito]

Palladium x Reader

A Mortal Trial Chapter 4

Masterlist

(Y/n) had gone with Athos to his homeland as soon as she could pack and say goodbye to her friends and family. The ceremony would take three days to properly prepare, but Athos had asked (Y/n) to come and stay for a week beforehand so she could get used to his homeland. (Y/n) had readily agreed, excited to see the world her soulmate had come from. Athos had given her his guest room to stay in, so they could get used to each other before a physical relationship was formed.

(Y/n) had quickly fallen in love with the Elf Kingdom. It was beautiful and always bright and sunny, and was covered in all sorts of mind boggling flora and fauna. Athos, always happily showing and explaining bits of the nature of his homeland. It was clear that he was an avid nature lover, even more so than the rest of his race. So when he told her that he was the herbology and nature magics teacher at Alfea, (which apparently was a very prestigious fairy school), it just made sense. Even though his homeland was astonishing to (Y/n), something that she found increasingly endearing was that Athos never disparaged her, or gardenia in any fashion. Though the magic realms and the elf kingdom itself was far more exquisite than her home.

Which, despite Athos’ cheerful and kind manner, had her feeling self conscious about the whole thing. The elves matched the beauty of their homeland, breathtaking and exotic. Which made (Y/n) feel like a toad amongst lilies, making her wonder if Athos actually cared about her at all. Or if she was just a means to an end for him. Being forced to act so kind to her since she was the holder of his magic, the appearance of Cerilla hadn’t been much help in this line of thinking.

Cerilla had been friends with Athos since they were children, everyone had expected they would be fated. Or at the very least get together at some point. Athos’ friends and family had been obviously shocked when he had brought (Y/n) home, telling everyone that she was his fated other half. Let’s just say they didn’t exactly jump for joy. They were kind, but the disappointment was obvious. Which just made poor (Y/n) feel even sorrier for herself, it had been fine for the first few days. Athos had been a delightful distraction, showing her around and telling her everything he knew. He had even managed to give her a tour of the school, which was still in session for the summer programs. The students were sweet and it amazed (Y/n) the extent of things that could be done with magic, Athos even letting her try out a spell or two. It was basic, but it thrilled (Y/n) to even lift a small stone.

But day four, had brought Cerilla… The gorgeous childhood friend of Athos Palladium. It really didn’t help that the Palladiums were as close to her as he was. And the slight feeling of being left out went into a full blown isolation. And during a particularly lively little get together with the Palladiums and friends, (Y/n) had excused herself to a rather small balcony, as far away from the party as she could be without outright leaving.

As she spent a few minutes out on the balcony, she contemplated what was going to happen in the next few days. (Y/n) was worried about the ceremony, and what would happen afterwards. Would she be discarded? Thrown away after returning the magic back to Athos? So many similar questions flooded her mind. But one main worry sat at the forefront…

Did Athos love Cerilla?

They had been rather close ever since she came. Which made sense in a way that (Y/n) hated to admit. But Cerilla wasn't just a beautiful elvish woman, she was a close friend and old one at that. (Y/n) felt like a stranger when she was around them both… Telling stories, and having inside jokes that she didn't share.

But her melancholy musings were knocked out of their spiral by the opening of the balcony door. (Y/n) was tempted to hide, but she chose to stay at her place by the banister. A familiar voice made her turn.

“This feels familiar.” Athos said with a smile. But it quickly faded as he felt the energy of the room.

(Y/n) tried to hide her expression behind a smile. But her downcast demeanor wasn't lost on Athos.

His brows furrowed in confusion, he wondered what on earth could make (Y/n) feel so down. His family hadn't been the warmest yes… but that hadn't bothered her before…

“(Y/n)? What's the matter?” He says approaching her with an open and sympathetic expression.

(Y/n) sighs and shakes her head, turning back to the stars. “It's nothing really.”

(Y/n) wasn't really sure why she had said that, but a flicker of hope, and dare she say affection lit in her heart as Athos said.

“(Y/n), I can tell it's more than ‘nothing.” He gets closer, standing next to her. She leans into the warm hand he puts on her shoulder. “Talk to me (Y/n)…” He says, almost pleading.

(Y/n) takes a deep breath, it shakes as it leaves her. “I just don't know how to phrase it, it feels so silly… But I can't help but feel down…”

(Y/n) looks at Athos, seeing nothing but warmth and patience reflected in his amber eyes.

So she continues, “to be honest… I'm worried, and I feel out of place…” She trailed off. Unwilling to unload her feelings at this party.

But Athos wouldn't have any of that. That was, until someone else opened the door.

It was Cerilla.

[rainbowvamp]

i don't wanna lose you

 25. “Let’s not end like this.”

Modern AU. Background Portamis. Previous Athamis. Athos angst. 

Maybe OOC? Idk, it just felt like a fun idea and I rolled with it.

Modern AU. Portamis. Previous Athamis. Athos angst. Maybe OOC? Idk, it just sounded like a fun idea and I rolled with it.

—

Athos had known the break up was coming for a long time. Aramis had always strayed, but Athos hadn’t minded. 

But Aramis hadn’t just been straying at the end. 

He’d fallen in love, and Athos couldn’t fault him for it. Porthos was strong and sure and had as much kindness as he had courage, which he had in abundance. Porthos was everything that Aramis could want and need and Athos wasn’t really any of those things.

Aramis isn’t the one to break it off. Athos does it. Athos says they’re through in a little restaurant Aramis probably chose so Athos wouldn’t make a scene when he left him. Well the joke was on Aramis, because Athos said “I don’t want to be with you anymore,” and walked out, just throwing the money on the table to pay the bill for food they had ordered by hadn’t gotten yet, and he left without looking back.

He didn’t expect Aramis to chase him, but maybe he was hoping for it. Hoping Aramis would tell him “this was all a misunderstanding” and “please don’t go” and “I love you,” but Athos doesn’t look back and he doesn’t know if Aramis even watches him leave. 

It takes a few weeks for the anger to die down. That first night Ninon and Sylvie, the most loyal friends and man could ask for him, support him without question. They knew he and Aramis had a more open relationship, but they do nothing but drink with him and distract him when he shows up at their place needing not to be alone. 

Ninon is far more attached to Athos than she is to Aramis, and is the first to turn completely traitor against him and bash the man as if she’d never liked him to begin with. She is drunker than she usually allows herself to be and she has a way with words that would be delightful if she wasn’t talking about the man he loved and believed himself committed to just a few hours before.

Sylvie is slower. She is reticent that first night while Athos is Drunk and Ninon is Mean. She let’s Athos vent, and strokes his hair and nods when he starts to cry, too far into his cups to stop it, and she hums a song her mum used to sing to her when she was sad, and Athos falls asleep on her shoulder. 

Life goes on, as it often does. Athos gets up and goes to work, comes home one day to realize that Aramis has taken all his things out of the flat they hadn’t shared by had shared and has left his key on the entryway table with a note that only has three words on it.

I’m sorry,

A.

Athos throws the key and the letter into the fireplace, lets the letter burn and the key warp under the heat until it is unusable. He gets drunk with Ninon and Sylvie that night too, not ready to face the flat that feels like it will be empty until he dies.

He lays in bed the next die. The entire next day. He makes himself get up to pee, but food and water don’t feel important. Nothing feels important. He wants to go to sleep and never wake up again. He misses Aramis, but Aramis loves someone else and Athos should just to happy for them.

Apparently, not answering his texts is grounds for breaking and entering because Sylvie breaks in that evening (using the key he gave her years ago) and makes him eat, drink water, have a shower.

He trudges through the motions but his heart isn’t in it. 

—

Eventually the hurt subsides and he is numb. This is in part from the alcohol and in part from previous experience with this sort of emotional dampening. He thinks how Aramis would hate this for him, but pushes the thought away as quickly as it comes, each time it comes.

He is able to go about his day without thinking of Aramis, though he doesn’t think of much else either. He works and drinks and sometimes eats. Sylvie or Ninon or both chastise him for his complete disregard of his health, both mental and physical, and he promises to do better, lying like he lies to himself when he says he’s fine with all of this, really.

The first time he sees the two of them out in public, he turns on his heel, hopefully before they see him, but again, he doesn’t turn back to look.

Aramis was leaning close to Porthos in that way he used to do when Athos was feeling left out or overwhelmed, taking up his space to remind him that he was supported; that Athos wasn’t alone, and Aramis was there beside him. 

Porthos has a smile like stars, not brilliant, but luminous, glowing, happy. Aramis makes him happy.

Aramis used to make Athos happy.

He wants to be happy for them, and he just can’t.

He gets black out drunk that night, alone in his flat. Ninon shows up at some point with Sylvie’s key and makes him get up and even when he’s ornery she just beats him down with looks and just once an open hand across his cheek, hard enough to sting but not to bruise.

In the morning, he learns that he’d called Aramis, drunk and basically incoherent, and Aramis had called Sylvie because he hadn’t thought he would be welcome, and Sylvie had called Ninon because Sylvie had a cap for Athos drunkeness and he had very much been past that cap last night. 

He asks Ninon, who is asleep in his bed beside him and has been waking him up periodically throughout the night, what he said to Aramis. She shrugs and tells him that the only person who knows is Aramis. And probably Porthos, but she doesn’t say that part. 

Around 11am, after Ninon has gone home and Athos has decided to give getting out of bed a good try, he gets a brief text from Aramis. 

I know you don’t owe me it, but if you can text me back and let me know you’re alright, I would appreciate it. 

Athos stares at the phone for long moments, knowing Aramis can see that he has read the message and not really caring as he sets the phone down and goes to the bathroom to take a very long, brain-numbing, shower. 

When he gets out of the shower and gets dressed, it is in a nice set of trousers and a soft sweater that he has been trying to forget was a present from Aramis. He takes the early part of the afternoon, still throbbing a bit at the temples and sour in the stomach, to buy “thank-you-for-putting-up-with-me” presents for both Sylvie and Ninon. It’s while he’s trying to convince himself not to buy another bottle of wine at the grocery that he hears a familiar voice that is more awkward than it had ever been in all the years Athos listened to it. 

“Athos?” 

Aramis has never sounded uncertain, not in Athos’ memory, at least, and so for a brief second he wonders what stranger is accosting him during this very delicate time at the grocery story. 

“Yes?” Athos tries to look unaffected, settling his face into a neutral, expressionless thing that he realized he hadn’t given to Aramis since well before they started dating.

“I- Um, I wanted to check on you. Make sure you were well.” Aramis stutters at Athos raised eyebrow, “I didn’t follow you here. I- I just saw you and I wanted to ask.” 

“I’m fine.” The words are flat even to his own ears.

“You- Okay.” Aramis said and took a subtle step back. “I just. I know that you- We can be friends. I would like it if we were friends.”

“Mhmm,” Athos puts the bottle of wine in his trolley. He doesn’t grab another one, but maybe he will after he does a loop of the grocery store to get away from Aramis. “Right. I have to be somewhere. Goodbye.” 

“Goodbye.” Aramis voice is small, fragile. It makes Athos’ chest ache and his hands twitch to hold themselves out and ask Aramis if he needs him. He doesn’t do this. He pushes his trolley down the aisle in picks a random direction to go in, hoping he’ll remember what he came here for while he’s walking but knowing he won’t. 

—

Sylvie, as if by some miracle, shows up at his place less than an hour after he gets home from the store. He gives her a nice scented soap that vaguely reminded him of the shampoo she used and she gave him a hug and proceeded to spend the night. The wine bottles go missing when he goes looking for them and he doesn’t blame Sylvie for hiding them. He ends up in a familiar position, head against her shoulder, on of her hands clasped in both of his while she strokes his hair and shoulder and back. Anywhere she can comfortably reach, basically. 

“I’m sorry,” He tells her quietly. He doesn’t say what for. He hopes she knows.

“Did you really break it off with Aramis?” Sylvie asked, and Athos turned, pulling away so he can look her in the eyes.

“Yes.” His gaze is steady and she meets it without flinching.

“Why?” 

Ahh, the question. The question. The reasoning he’s barely thought about but hasn’t dared to speak. He leans his head back on her shoulder. This is not a conversation he wants to be looked at while he’s having. 

“Porthos.” Is where he starts, hoping that will be enough. It is not, as he assumed it wouldn’t be, so he took a deep breath. “I knew he was falling in love with him. He was spending more and more time with him. I knew it. He wasn’t cheating on me.” He feels like he has to reiterate this. He feels like he needs to defend Aramis, even now. “I just… He sat me down at this small little restaurant and I did it before he could. I didn’t want to be broken up with. I didn’t want apologies and ‘I’m so sorry Athos, please understand, please-‘” His voice cuts off and he has to swallow, hard. “I love him too much to listen to him spiral with his guilt while I fell apart inside. So I told him I didn’t want to be with him anymore and I left.”

“Did you want to not be with him anymore?” She asked and he laughed, humorless, degrading towards himself and his own misery. 

“Of course I wanted to be with him. I don’t think I’ve ever told a bigger lie in my life.” 

Sylvie hums, thinking for a few minutes. She plays with his hair and he closes his eyes, not ashamed that a couple of tears form at the memory, slide hot and accusing down his cheeks onto Sylvie’s shoulder. 

“How do you know he was going to break up with you?” Sylvie asked, and this throws him for a loop. He doesn’t understand the question. Aramis was in love with a man who Athos could never hope to match up to. Why wouldn’t be break up with him.

He takes too long to answer, so she goes on. “I just… I wonder if you didn’t jump the gun. If you didn’t go too fast to ‘break-up’ and didn’t spend enough time in ‘we-should-have-a-conversation-about-this’?” 

“It’s a bit late for wondering.” Athos mumbled, and sat up. She lets him have his space, but keeps one of her hands wrapped around his.

“Maybe not. He seemed. He didn’t seem like he was right as rain and over the moon. He seemed. Lost. When he called me last night about your drunk dial. Like he wanted to come over himself but didn’t think he’d be welcome.

“He doesn’t have the key anymore.” He clarifies. 

“Aramis has been able to pick a lock for longer than I’ve known him. And he could have climbed in a window besides.”

“I live on the second floor.”

“Would that have stopped him?”

Athos can’t help but smile fondly. “No, I suppose it wouldn’t have.”

“Exactly. So… I wonder if maybe you should’ve talked more, before you did what you did.” 

“He was in love with someone else, Sylvie. He is in love with someone else.”

Perfect, wonderful Porthos who Athos could never-

“There’s nothing that says you can’t love more than one person.” 

Athos brain slows, halts, goes quiet. 

“Did I break you?” She asked when it takes him too long to respond.

“Yes.” He says quietly and she pulls him to her again, and he goes, accepting the hug and feeling grateful that the flat isn’t empty.

Athos prods at the thought. There’s nothing that says you can’t love more than one person… Spoken with such ease that Athos isn’t sure that to do with it. Had he been a fool? Had he stepped too quickly out of a relationship that hadn’t been ready to end?

But, Aramis hadn’t come after him. Aramis had let him leave, let him walk out.

“I was wondering why Aramis wasn’t ever around. I thought, maybe, if you broke up with him because of Porthos, because you didn’t like it, he’d at least have offered to end it. To be exclusive if it meant keeping you. But… If you said what you say you did, that you didn’t want to be with him anymore, that sounds like the sort of think Aramis would see as a boundary. Something he shouldn’t cross. Wouldn’t dare to.” 

And that… sounded very much like Aramis, now that he thought about it. Aramis, who had asked explicitly for consent before their first kiss. Aramis who had made them have a half hour long conversation about comfort and limits and expectations before they’d had sex. Aramis who communicated so openly that it sometimes gave Athos whiplash because he came from posh near-nobility who wouldn’t share their feelings if it gave them eternal life. 

“Fuck.” He whispered, and then he shook his head. “Fuck. Sylvie. Stop putting ideas in my head. I just- I cannot handle it I-“ lose him again.

“I know.” She strokes his hair, temples, “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” He repeats and they stay like that for a long while.

—

Ninon is the one who makes him call. Sits beside him while he does it, in fact, because for all that she was the first to betray Aramis, she was also very staunchly pro-Athos-Being-Happy, and she wanted them to work it out if it was possible to.

“Athos?” Aramis sounds breathless, and Athos tries not to think about why that might be.

“And Ninon. Just for transparency.” Ninon says beside him. The phone is on speaker.

“Oh?” He’s still breathing differently. “Well, that’s a surprise. What can I do for you?”

Athos can’t respond. Aramis sounds so happy to be talking to him that Athos’ brain won’t do anything but focus on the sound of his voice, memorizing the sound of it, giving him not space left to respond. 

“Athos wants to meet. Tomorrow. Is there a time that works?” 

“Um, sure. Yes. I’ll-“ A rustling, then paper’s shifting. “I have the afternoon free. We can meet for coffee that that place we-“ Aramis stopped, and when he finishes his voice is far less cheery. “We can do something in the afternoon. Just text me where and when.”

“Good.” Ninon says for him, and Athos is very grateful. “He will see you tomorrow.”

“Great.” It’s not as enthusiastic as it could be, but then Ninon is hanging up the phone and Athos is trying to pull himself together. 

Part 2 coming tomorrow.

[monte-cristo-incorrect-quotes]

Now I want a crossover where the Count gets into the crazy and hilarious world of the Musketeers. Omg, I can't stop thinking about it ... How would he behave? How would these four dorks react to BatCount? What would he think of them?

the Count would see Athos and he would clock the man on the spot. they would bond over being raging misogynists but they would never really relate to each other because the Count wouldn't understand that Athos is a rampant homosexual and Athos wouldn't understand that the Count is just the way he is. they'd probably try to seduce each other and fail or something like that.

D'Artagnan would absolutely fucking hate the guts out of the Count and he would challenge him to a duel on a daily basis and not even in the homoerotic way. just straight-up plain spite and hatred. he would be annoyed by the mere existence of the Count and his clothes and his charm and his cynicism.

Porthos would look at Bertuccio and Ali, look at the Count and ask him if they can "swap servants" to which Bertuccio would have a panic attack because he's genuinely afraid of Porthos. he would then just be there in the garden petting the Count's dogs or something like that. he would ask to try his horses and his clothes and his weapons.

Aramis would actually become friends with him because he's the only one who can justly appreciate his brains, his intelligence, his ruthlessness, his ability to manipulate and calculate, his patience and his blasphemous relationship with God. they'd constantly try to outsmart each other and then they'd fuck.

[randomnameless]

I don't know if this has been asked before, but I was wondering what your thoughts on Rhea are.

Oh, I don't think someone asked it, but I remember a character meme.

Rhea's in the Julia tier : you're expecting things and the game doesn't give you any.

you asked for thoughts so this is long and rather unorganised even if i tried a bit and i feel like i repeated myself a lot so meh

If Edel and Rhea have one thing in common, it's being shafted by the need to make Billy the most special being every with the monstrous "I was lonely before you player-chan uwu".

Seteth'n'Flayn ? In the same trashcan Hubert went in.

Catherine, Shamir, the randoms living in the monastery? Dgaf but still she's willing to die for them so does she really gaf or not? Rhea's willing to give her blood and crest stone shards (to this day I still don't understand what those are) to trusted randoms who would become cardinals? "uwu player-chan". I know I've written a bit about it with the seirelm anon, but with the Canon-ish info? Post Zanado Rhea told a random dude she could turn in a dragon, gave her blood to the same dude and remained in his empire/fighting by his side for at least 30 years. Still “lonely without U Billy <3″

I've written this in the meme entry, but Rhea has her own net of relationships. They're not as important as Dimitri and his childhood friends, but erasing them for the sake of "player-chan" feels wrong.

Role and goals

Rhea's in an interesting place, being a former "legendary hero" like Athos, Sephiran etc.

Still her fight isn't over, she only defeated Nemesis and couldn't end the mastermind behind (a bit like Seliph if you only kill Arvis or Roy when you forget to pick up every legendary weapon). Also, if Seiros killed Nemesis, she hasn't won. In the current Fodlan, she still has to pretend to be a human, the Nabateans as a culture/population are dead. They're still 5 (ish? I think the apostles are lizards), she's still afraid humans will dice them if they learn the truth. Has she won? Idk. Could she win and make a Fodlan were lizards and humans could live together? I don't think so.

Her role as the Archbishop? Well, the game really liked Rhea as a red herring during white clouds and the way FE16 is built, around the monastery, reinforces it. Rhea's the head of the monastery, so she's the head of your world. Everything wrong with the world is automatically linked to Rhea.

So, when Marianne complains about people wanting to kill/ostracise her because of her crest, thinking it's a curse, we of course wonder "why Rhea can't tell to the randoms that no Marianne shouldn't be killed/shunned because of her crest?". Completely forgetting that, hey, Marianne's from the Alliance and heiress of Edmund, so if some people should intervene, it should be her dad "why the fuck are you trying to kill my daughter" or the Alliance council "Duke Riegan, could you please make a public statement about my daughter and how she isn't some sort of demonic beast so stop throwing rocks at her?".

Same thing with the Empire, why should you blame the church and the crests instead of the people doing shit? Hanneman's brother in law? Like is marriage so absolute that a husband can force multiple pregnancies on his wife to the point of literally killing her? The von Essar aren't as important as the Bergliez, but Hanneman's sister dying like that should have rang some bells? Hanneman's dad didn't care? No one wanted to appeal to the Emperor or something? If Jane the random or Karen the peasant died this way, it’d be usual class nonsense. But a noble woman??

Rhea should have done more to prevent crest abuse. She wrote tenets in her Bible and apparently doesn't discriminate in her monastery. But in the other countries? Idk. Her tenets are interpreted like your shopping list by Gloucester Sr "and add a part where interacting with foreigners goes against Seiros's teachings what yes I know better than those dunces from the eastern/central church".

It's not because Riegan Sr and Ionius aren't doing shit that she should do nothing too, but ultimately it falls on the usual landmine about Rhea's influence and power over Fodlan and if we consider Fodlan isn't just the Monastery we see but a continent made up of 4 autonomous states...

The so-called status quo isn't upheld by the church alone (if it is upheld in the first place!), but also by the empire and the Alliance... Lambert was toasted before making any changes, the Alliance is that weird thing where money is anything and crests/old nobility doesn't matter anymore, and the Empire is... Well. The Empire.

Regarding this, I find it really strange that Rhea went to Goneril and rescued one of their slaves, with how much she cares about protecting her monastery and not antagonising anyone, picking Cyril up, risking the ire of house Goneril, feels really risky from her perspective.

Imo WC doesn't sell me the "church rules over the continent" take.

Ultimately it doesn't matter because Rhea thinks she should have done more, and abused her position as the archbishop to rez her mom - I understand the "abused her position" as regretting her various omissions, like helping more people around etc etc.

I also feel like Rhea’s got a big survivor complex, and tries to fulfill impossible tasks. "leading/guiding the world?" she won't take an active role in it, but still resents the state of current Fodlan and wishes Sothis could restore some order (crest abuse? Or relics popping up right and left meaning more sibs dying). She wants to :

1/ guide the world and make it a better place (why complaining about the wayward Fodlan otherwise?)

2/ protect randoms who live under her protection

3/ make sure no one learns the truth about her appearance and relics at the same time.

I don't think it's possible given her current role and especially not possible on her own.

About 3/, call back to FE9 or not, but Rhea's paranoia is... Actually, not proven to be exaggerated in the game.

Ranulf was lynched in Crimea when he was discovered to be a laguz? In a certain route, Rhea's called a cruel beast due to her appearance, accused of not having "human" feelings and is depicted as a creature masquerading as a human. Hate and attack the woman all you want for things she did or might have done, but getting rid of her because she's not human? Rhea's right about not revealing her true nature, because, relics notwithstanding, humans will try to kill her for being a nabatean. Relic wise, in the DLC, we learn Aubin was recently turned in a relic, so that's even more reason to hide.

On 1/, wanting to promote peace in the land? National bias at play with rewriting history “to promote peace” issue. Rhea also built the officer's academy (if nobles from different states can live and study together surely they won't try to kill each other when they return home because they might have become friends?) and with help from the everyone in Fodlan (even the empire iirc?) built the locket to fend off Almyrian invasions. Not saying this is the best way to protect your borders but at least she tried to help instead of staying holed in her monastery.

Imo if Rhea didn't care about Fodlan, she'd have followed her bros and fortified herself in her monastery without accepting random humans to live with her, wouldn't have written a book about how everyone had to get along "unless it goes against the goddess" and wouldn't basically run what seems to be the biggest orphanage/place for the needy/and whatever is the abyss in the continent.

Not saying she doesn't have a priority, but Rhea tries to care, on her scale, about Fodlan's randoms.

About said randoms (and 2/)...

Well there's this bout with Lonato's rebellion and another herring where Rhea's all "I will destroy anyone who takes arms against the church and its believers" and it's extreme, I can’t deny. But if Lonato took arms and mounted a militia to attack Ositia's castle and its randoms? Hector'd have Armads'd Lonato without a second thought. Elincia had qualms about taking her weapons against her own countrymen who were used by Ludveck, but in the end, she took up her weapons to defend her castle, even if it meant she had to kill militiamen. Rhea's line seemed random and cold in the context, but it's the same general idea, attack her people and she will kill you. Still, if you don't take weapons against her, she won't react violently. Duke Gerth is apparently dick waving with Aubin's relic, but Shamir wasn't sent to recover the thing or to get rid of Gerth.

Ultimately Rhea blows her cover and abandons her dream to reunite with her mother to protect the monastery and its inhabitants in 3 routes (arguably in CF too). Someone once made a post about the differences between Seiros's and Edel's crowns and the symbolism of wings - the IO's wings are meant to protect. The IO is the guardian/protector. Rhea tanks missiles and buys time for the students to escape at the cost of her life.

Relationships

Rhea and Sothis? someone made a post summarizing my thoughts about their relationship, or lack of, and if we can argue Sothis was shafted by the devs like Rhea and Edel, ultimately the only important person to Sothis is Billy.

Billy doesn't warp Sothis's preexisting net of relationships, Sothis doesn't have relationships with anyone save for Billy. Rhea wants to meet her mom more than anything else (save for protecting randoms) but Sothis will never address that plot point. She only does in SS and off screen, and it ends up with Rhea wondering if she should live... so take it as you want, but to me it mustn't have been the "hug and pat on the head" kind of reunion.

Ultimately we see Rhea is able to let go of her dream (rez mom) in several routes, she understands and acknowledges Sothis will never return and Billy has her powers now, so either she dies more or less at peace knowing she can trust Billy with Fodlan's future, or she can return to Zanado and live peacefully with Catherine.

Which leads me to the Billy relationship,

As much as I hate player pandering, it makes some sense that Rhea would support Billy and not, let's say, Caspar. I still hate it though because Billy exclusive support means we were robbed of Rhea's other supports with, idk, her fam, Cyril, Catherine, Shamir, Alois, Hanneman, Manu etc etc.

In the beginning of WC, Rhea's pretty sure Billy's Sothis but without memories. Then in the non-cf chapter 12, she tells Billy they know what they are and thus must guide Fodlan, also telling Seteth Billy's a vector for sothis's powers, but not Sothis herself. In SS's finale she calls them "mother" but in her S-support finally acknowledges Billy's their own thing.

In CF Rhea's vicious in her trash talk but immediately jumps to the conclusion that Billy cannot be or hear Sothis, because, to her, logically, Sothis wouldn't side with Edel and her Agarthian allies (stealing the crest stones, Flayn, etc etc). Billy is something that stole Sothis's crest stone and sword and wants to finish what Nemesis started. I don't think CF Rhea snaps because Billy isn't Sothis, CF Rhea snaps because, again, someone is using her mother to kill her.

Rhea's also supposed to have been fond of Citrus to the point of talking to her remains (something she does with her mom) which could explain her sympathy for Billy regardless of the Sothis project.

Jeralt's a different issue, apparently they worked together for more than 100 years but Rhea never told him the truth about her nature, only about how he was saved. Still, Jeralt betrays when his baby is "weird" and unlike regular human babies so... Would he have ran away if he learnt what rhea was? Dumped Citrus if he knew she was an artificial being? Idk.

Catherine Shamir cyril and pals (Alois)? We don't know bcs the game dgaf about anyone not named Billy. As I said above, It’d have been nice to get more interactions with randoms she is working with, or at least showed some care, but nope. “Player-chan uwu” strikes again.

Seteth'n'Flayn? Rhea's close to them, she gets out of her room to look for Flayn and Cyril and Catherine note how she seems close to Seteth (who's totally her bro), but again, the game hates us. FFS don't think she has a line with Flayn!

Secrets and explosions

Tied to 3/ and 1/ from earlier, Rhea keeps a lot of secrets which could justify her lack of relationships/supports with the others... but this argument falls flat, because she’s not the only one with a secret and if Flayn doesn’t seem to care that much about hers, Seteth does and is still able to support students and staff members. Which leads to tragedies.

The Christophe incident is not well documented, and while we learn Rhea was the target of Christophe’s attempt because Western peeps told him so, it is not very well explained why she didn’t execute him on those grounds instead of falsifying charges about involvement with the Regicide. We are told it was to stabilise the Kingdom, but I still don’t know how the Kingdom would have suffered backlash if Rhea told the truth (maybe it would have led to open conflict between the western church and the central church in the kingdom, when the kingdom needed stability at that point? idk).

Still, Lonato wants revenge for Christophe, not because he was executed on false charges, but because he died ; imo, if Lonato learnt the truth, he’d still be out for Catherine and Rhea’s head.

Aelfie’s gambit is more of a direct result of Rhea’s secrecy, because she had “no words” for him about why Citrus was still in pristine condition, he gave up and tried to rez her. Would it had been different if she told him what Citrus was (and by extent, what she was)? Idk. Maybe, maybe not.

Still, Rhea doesn’t keep secrets from everyone every time - she once trusted Willy and told him about her alternate form and it exploded 1k years later, when Willy’s descendants are out for her head because she’s a creature masquerading as a human (I know mole people also played a part, but I guess it sticked more with Edel and the gang who already knew Rhea was a dragon ; trying to convince a random that “hey, this woman is a dragon !” would be more difficult). CF-wise again, Rhea trusts Billy with the SoC and, again, it explodes. In CF Rhea feels betrayed, she trusted some people and now the very same people (or their descendant in Edel’s case) are trying to kill her.

So it’s not a case of someone never trusting anyone, it’s someone trusting some people and regretting it afterwards (in both routes + CF at least, even if I firmly believe the “evil lizards ruling over the world” spiel doesn’t come from Willy, but from later emperors influenced by mole people).

There can also be a point made for Aelfie, who might have been able to merge with Citrus to create an umbral beast because he had Rhea’s blood and a crest stone shard - Citrus being a fake Nabatean and Aelfie having a crest stone + blood might have produced CS’s final boss? Rhea trusted Aelfie with a crest stone shard and her blood, and he became an umbral beast.

Interestingly, Rhea is hell bent on keeping her secrets regarding her identity, in SS Seteth has to beg her to reveal everything to Billy when Billy is the most important person in the world “uwu” or at least, the only person Rhea supposedly opened to. Even the “uwu” factor isn’t enough, on its own, to make her reveal the truth about her identity.

She gives Claude half-truths, and has to be on death’s door to tell him everything - still occulting Seteth’n’Flayn, to the point where Claude later wonders if there are other children of the goddess around.

Vengeful Rhea?

Rhea isn't a stale piece of bread like Julia. She says mean words to Nemesis but also brutally kills him. Rhea cannot forgive the Elites. I know it's very different, but Julia "dad is the kindest man I ever knew" making a 180° “i must atone for what dad did eff him” will always make me throw up - she doesn’t have to be vengeful or try to stab Seliph with a butter knife, but no acknowledgement of “dad’s the bestest” after his death, or even, of his death is meh.

To Rhea, Nemesis and the Elites are a trigger point, and everything related to Zanado. CF!Billy using her mom’s powers is like Nemesis, CF!Billy + Edel pillaging what remains of her siblings in Nemesis’n’Dudes. Flamey doing his shit with Flayn also parallels that. There’s the usual “vengeance sucks” speech to be given, but also the Tellius verse where Laguz aren’t depicted in a bad light when they want to destroy Izuka or when Tibarn learns Lekain was responsible for Serenes’s massacre.

Still, unlike Tibarn’n’pals, Rhea, unlike Macuil, doesn't seem to hold a grudge against descendants of the Elites. Maybe she had faith in them when she told them not to abuse the power of their crests, but then their descendants forgot or didn’t care and we’re in the so-called crest system.

In SS, Seteth asks the BE students if they want to return home to the Empire and how he won’t hold it against them. Seteth’s being Rhea’s right hand bro in this situation, I doubt he’d have proposed this solution without her approval.

She is vengeful and ready to pursue for more 90 years someone to kill them, but she won’t target that someone’s descendants or potential allies. I’ve read some takes about the Western Church being razed to the ground after Catherine’s paralogue, but iirc, Rhea’s only going to execute the Bishop there ; they appoint a new bishop in hopes to ease the relationships between the central and western church. There’d be no point to appoint someone to rule over a body that doesn’t exist...

Grey waves

Wave 1 : Another parallel with Edel is the will to sink in troubled waters to reach their goals.

However, Rhea stays on the surface.

Aelfie thinks Seiros failed to rez Sothis with the chalice because she didn't take more blood from the apostles. Blood rituals are creepy and gave an umbral beast. Seiros didn't pursue and sought another mean to rez Sothis without killing her bros. Rhea makes homunculi to host Sothis's soul? It fails but the homunculi isn't destroyed asap to make another one, hell, Rhea cares about them (which is all kinds of fucked up on its own).

AM wise, iirc, Seteth and Catherine say Rhea'd never forgive them if they run to save her instead of saving randoms first.

Still, making homunculus to create a vessel for her mom - making artificial lives - is problematic, she’s ashamed of it “i did questionable things” and Seteth berates her on her “questionable” experiments.

CF!Rhea eats babies during the final map. She burns the city to make her last stronghold and refuses to run away. CF!Rhea, at the end of this route, completely abandoned goal 1 2 and 3. She wants to survive, yes, but to recover Sothis, no matter how. She still seems to care about humanity, but takes everything too literally and is persuaded humanity and humans are after her to hurt her and her mother (i’m pretty sure uncle Arry was waiting with his Agarthan tech suitcase for Edel to deal with the beast in the background). Contrary to CF’s chapter 12, Endgame!Rhea doesn’t have lines when Catherine and Cyril fall. She’s still siding with humans, but she’s in this for herself now.

Of course, CF!Rhea is special, because CF!Rhea lives again through her trauma, CF!Rhea lost her home, her bro and niece a few chapters ago, she lost her human allies, apparently some peons from her church are deserting and Uncle is waiting with his portable electric saw to turn her in a shiny sword, because she trusted a corpse with Sothis’s heart and spine and trusted a human 1000 years ago with her secret. And now said corpse follows someone who rings at her door with an army, wishes to obliterate her unless she surrenders (?) and works with Uncle and his dubstep pals.

In the other routes, Billy doesn’t want to killer her with her mother’s spine and tries to defend her home, Seteth’n’Flayn aren’t forced into exile or dead and depending on the route she gets to see Uncle and his dubstep friends being buried under rubble.

Troubled waters to reach her goals also include slowing Fodlan’s technological advancements (but was it really slowing down Fodlan’s R&D’s department or cliking “no” when Mole People offer a free (for now) new technology that makes you advance from bronze age to the industrial era in one go?)

Wave 2 : Rhea’s anchored in the past, she wants to return to happier days with her mom and her family, but also wants to help randoms in Fodlan

She doesn’t seem to mind the present where humans do whatever they want, and yet will protect her people and tries (or tried since it’s history) to keep Fodlan safe.

I think the game wanted to tell us Rhea’s stuck in the past, but she also manages to form bonds (albeit fickle) in the present with Catherine, Shamir and, arguably, Cyril. Seteth’n’Flayn accept the past and try to move forward, Rhea cannot and yet is making baby steps forward, or at least to live in the present. “uwu factor” is supposed to mean Rhea’s stuck in the past and can only see Billy for what they are once she accepts to live in the present, but Rhea’s already fond of Catherine, calls Aelfie her child, was fond of Citrus and Jeralt, makes time for Cyril, etc etc. It’s not as clear cut as drinking tea with them but it’s still something that quashes the “lonely B4 U player-chan uwu”.

Rhea thinks her biggest grey wave is how she didn’t do enough for Fodlan and feels inadequate to walk in Sothis’s shoes as the guardian/protector of Fodlan - she could have done more, but she’s busy juggling with three goals, rez mom, protect fodlan, protect the fam.

I think one of her main issue (but the game was also made this way so) is to try to reach those goals alone, save for the “rez mom” goal, everyone in Fodlan, especially the heads of the three states should be concerned with keeping peace in the continent!

Lambert was BBQ’s, Riegan’s busy shitting on Gloucester and Ionius is... well, Ionius. Add to that Mole People starting up shit all around the continent and you have the recipe for a disaster. I’m not saying Lambert and Ionius should have participated to the “protect her family” goal, but at least not trying to eradicate them to turn them in relics would have been nice, sadly Ionius’s bro in law was an Agarthan.

Even if she is nearly immortal compared to a human, Rhea can’t do everything on her own. That’s why I ultimately think a SS ending is doomed to fail, Billy will try to be Rhea 2.0. and in 1000 years it will fall apart again.

AM ending? Billy will become like Rhea was post War of Heroes, but when Dimitri’s descendants start to do shit, his Kingdom disappears and humans start to return to their usual shitty selves, what will Billy do?

VW ending is kind of the same, Claude wants to open the borders and make everyone able to live regardless of their differences, but what if 940 years later an Almyrian president decides to build a wall between Fodlan and Almyra and make Fodlaneses pay for it? What is immortal Billy, who knew Claude and his ideals, going to do?

Wave 3 (lol i nearly forgot but remembered when i was rambling in the tags) : Rhea and technology !

The DLC book and Word of God said she slowed advance of technology in Fodlan to protect peace etc etc. But there’s a book where a cardinal said “eff to autopsies else people won’t rely on us with faith magic” which is... kind of weird. There’s a reason why Rhea might have approved that ban (Why does Freikugel look like a hip bone?) but it still deprived Fodlan’s randoms from the scientifical advance of autopsies... and made people reliant on faith magic.

Actually, the book goes

“Though it is widely believed that this is medically relevant, such actions upon a corpse are considered desecration of the dead. Since white magic can be used to a similar end, autopsies were deemed taboo. A notable cardinal asserted that if medical science were to excel over faith-based white magic, it would destabilize the foundation of the church “

I already pointed out the WTF between faith and white magic (Seteth doesn’t believe his mom is real so he has no faith boon) but interesting to note “desecrating the dead” is still something of an argument nowadays, not regarding autopsies but other practices like anatomical theaters etc etc. Maybe White Magic isn’t intrusive and yields the same results? idk.

Interesting to note, it’s a cardinal who edicted/justified that ban (Rhea as the head of the Church would have given her approval oc). As pointed out with the Freikugel example, Rhea’d have a personal interest in preventing humans to know more about anatomy (goal 3/). Would people stop looking to the church to be healed if “medical science” progresses too much? Maybe. From what we see in the curren Fodlan, it doesn’t.

Also, French version translated the “foundation of the church” as “stability” of the church - would the church become unstable or challenged if people could heal without using white magic? Again, we ultimately know that it doesn’t, magical science and medical science coexist, Manuela gives a short summary of the two - they have different effects.

As for things Rhea herself banned : Telescopes, Oil exploitation and Printed Press.

Telescopes were banned because Rhea thought it would increase violence during wartimes and would make it too easy to snipe from afar (TFW mages with bolting can do the same without telescopes, but they’re limited by their range and if they have a gloucester’s crest by Rhea’s sister’s femur’s range or whatever is Thyrsus). We know the mole people use (and most likely used before during the Sothis war) this technology. The “lessening the mystery of the goddess” thing is noted by Edel herself who wonders if the Goddess could really have come from space since it’s super far away. Edel doesn’t know the Goddess is an alien dragon-thing though.

Oil exploitation : “Misuse could result in accidental death” tfw random Faerghus countryman thought it was water and died :’(

Used tactically by those lacking magical abilities - like gambits? Was Rhea thinking that a random human cannot set fire to an entire city (lol) on his own with his limited spell pool/uses, but if he uses oil then he would only be limited by the quatity of oil? So it’d be easier to cause mass fires? Or whatever Robin did in FE13 with the ships and the Valmese army? Also, if Rhea thought oil could replace humans with magic, does it mean humans with magic were supposed to do everything oil can do? Like making a lamp or they still used something else as fuel? “Competition for it could cause strife” Rhea acknowledged that if humans discovered this ressource they’d deem it as essential and try to get their hands on it, even if they had to wage war?

Metal molding Printing Machine : “after careful consideration” Rhea banned it because it’d be useless for illiterate randoms - well yes, but why should this be an argument? You don’t ban something because it’s useless, look, no one banned airpods - risk of mass circulation of false information or rumors : rhea wanted to prevent redshit from existing This is a way to control information, but funnily enough in the game, we see the results or someone deliberately using manifestos spreading misinformation - risk of “increasing disparity between church branches” (fr version has “rivalry” instead of disparity) what does it mean? The central church would have more means to print books than the eastern church so the eastern church would be jealous? Or the Western Church could mass print its doctrine and have more zealots than the central or the easter church?

Ultimately, all those bans were lifted with time, Manuela performs Jeralt’s autopsy, Edel’s imperial science division managed to guess the distance between the Blue sea star and Fodlan, Oil is apparently used in several gambits, Edel’s able to send manifestos around the continent and Seteth can write children books and sell them without difficulties. Hilda can also lose books which would be a big no-no even if you are a noble if books weren’t, kind of, mass printed.

So why those bans? To protect Fodlan and the fam, but since they were lifted with time, I don’t think Rhea abandonned her goals, most likely, she thought humans were making small steps to discover those technologies, slowly learning about them so they won’t have them when they’re not “ready enough” to use them.

The “ready enough” thing sounds paternalistic or what can be expected from a more technologically advanced alien, but technically Rhea’s part alien and she lived through (or not?) an episode where humans received technology and did shit with it (mole people) so maybe she won’t hand them the car with the keys this time, and instead let them figure out how to build the car.

Still, this is HC because, as usual, the game doesn’t let us talk or question Rhea about those things, so we can only infer, read between the lines or between pixels.

****

TBH, I didn’t care a lot about her when I played, but when she had to eat babies in CF I grew more interested. Other bloggers already pointed it out, but Rhea’s a Tiki, but also a “traditional FE lord” in the sense she avenged her mom who was killed by the king of another kingdom, lived in exile and raised an army to fight against the King.

Still, Rhea didn’t end up as the leader of the world, or as the first Empress of United Fodlan, or something like that. She let Willy do his thing. Why? How? Why didn’t she became an integral part of the Empire, if she had been politically important, or a kind of seer/oracle, it would have been difficult for the Empire to go against her!

But nope, Rhea figged away in her mountains to rez her mom, sprout some “doctrine” (she could have done the same as an Emperor/Seer/Oracle) and watched over randoms who made up her “church”. She sometimes tries to intervene in Fodlan’s best interests, but it failed. Because Rhea doesn’t want to rule. She feels like she has to be a guide, but when humans don’t follow her? Well, what can she do? FE16 doesn’t show us Rhea sending her knights against the Empire when the Empire kicked out her Church and basically said “fig” to her face. FE16 doesn’t show us Rhea being angry and punching Gloucester in the face because he doesn’t show “real piety” and sprouts doctrine out of his rear.

Still, when she has to take a more hands-on approach and cannot be a distant figure/guide, she complains about maintaining a certain image as the Archbishop and how she cannot socialise with students or even walk around without Seteth randoms guarding her. She feels her mother would do a better job and tries to act as a proxy. Imo, Rhea’s bound by duty to her mom, to her sibs dead and living, and to Fodlan. She doesn’t reject her role, she accepts it, she doesn’t like it yes, but if going Gandalf in non-CF chapter 12 shows, she will fulfill it.

What’s most saddening though, is how her duty is a self-imposed one. Rez her mom? She personally took the challenge, because she misses Sothis the most and feels ashamed of this feeling to the point of not telling Seteth about it (interesting enough, Indech seems to be aware Billy’s Sothis incarnation and didn’t jump to the “Billy must be one of Nemesis’s kids with the crest of flames” conclusion, as if he knew Sothis could “incarnate” one day, but was he thinking Sothis would incarnate on her own or Rhea would trigger it? Flayn also suspects a thing about Billy being related to them because of Rhea). Rhea personally thinks she has to lead/guide Fodlan and make it a better place, ignoring the heads of the 3 states who should also be concerned with this goal. Rhea will create a false history to protect her living siblings when Macuil and Indech won’t give a fuck and live in their bestial forms somewhere, and when Seteth hides, but made it clear his only wish is to protect Flayn and the apostles, if they were really lizards, disappeared in random villages.

FE16 isn’t interested by Rhea’s story though.

That’s why I’m desperately waiting for a War of Heroes DLC or prequel of BSFE or whatever because I don’t really care about Fodlan in 1180 and who can have a perfect tea time with Billy or not.

I’d like to know why Birdie and Indech figged away, why Rhea thought letting Willy control the entire continent when he knows she’s a dragon was a good idea, why the Apostles didn’t take part in the Nemesis fight, why Fodlan’s humans decided to side with Willy in his brand new Empire instead of staying with King Nemesis, did Sothis have a previous faithful and what happened when she disappeared, were the Nabateans tyrannical rulers over humans which made some with Nemesis’n’pals, what were they supposed to do when they left Zanado, etc, etc.

So just like Julia and the baijilions AU ideas I came up with, Rhea’s a fuel for AUs because her base game dgaf about her.

[kayteewritessteve]

Love and War - The Makings Of This Story.

DON’T READ THIS UNLESS YOU’VE FINISHED LOVE AND WAR!!!

HUUUUUGE **SPOILERS** BELOW!!!

Love and War’s Masterlist can be found HERE.

But anywho, this is for anyone who is interested. It is a behind the scenes look into this series and what makes it up. There is break downs of all the characters names and who they each represented. Plus an insight into the real story of Aphrodite: the Goddess of Love, Ares: the God of War, and Hephaestus: the God of Fire, Craftsmanship, Blacksmiths and Volcanoes. Along with all the other Gods and Goddess’ that played a hand in their story.

The Main Characters.

Y/N - Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love and Beauty.

Steve/Alarick - Ares, the God of War.

The name Alarick means: Noble Leader or a Wolf ruler, Fierce, Supreme ruler of all.

Bucky/Harlin - Hermes the God of Trade, Thieves and Travellers. And many other things.

The name Harlin means: Noble Friend and Noble Warrior.

Natasha/Premala/Dabria - Peitho is the Goddess of Persuasion, Seduction and Charming Speech. But also Aphrodites handmaiden and attendant, and the wife of Hermes.

The name Premala means: A loving and caring person.

The name Dabria means: An angel of death.

Alexander Pierce/Hepha - Hephaestus the God of Fire, Craftsmanship, Blacksmiths and Volcanoes. Plus a few other things, but honestly who cares haha.

The name Hepha was just shortened from the original name, due entirely to it just being easier to pronounce. And the fact finding a shitty name to give him that started with H was impossible.

It never ended up coming up, but I always envisioned Alexander Pierce as Hepha in my head. So there is some insight into that for you all.

Brock/Charandas - Cedalion is Hephaestus’ servant.

The name Charandas means: Servant or one who serves his master.

Joesph/Athos - Zeus the King of the Gods and the God of the Sky, Lightening and Thunder.

The name Athos means: It’s actually another name for Zeus. So, fun fact there!

Sarah/Hypatia - Hera the Queen of the Gods and the Goddess of Marriage and Birth.

The name Hypatia means: A supreme woman.

Carol Danvers/Amaris - Artemis the Goddess of the Hunt, the Forest and Hills, and the Moon.

The name Amaris means: ‘child of the moon’ or ‘given by God’.

Once again, Carol’s name never came to light in the story, but she is who I envisioned as Amaris.

The Three Graces - Attendants to Aphrodite.

Pepper/Aalin - Aglaia represents Elegance, Brightness and Splendour.

The name Aalin means: Beautiful, calm, fair, graceful and serene.

Hilde/Tyarra - Thalia represents Youth, Beauty and Good Cheer.

The name Tyarra means: A young, tender and attractive person.

Hope/Edden - Euphrosyne represents Mirth and Joyfulness.

The name Edden means: Delight, Joy and the one who has great ambition and strength.

Peggy Carter/Aasira - Athena the Goddess of War. I was originally going to give her a larger part in this story and make her Peggy in the mortal plane, but decided against that plan half way through writing this story. Though I would still like to address the name change from Athena to Aasira.

The name Aasira means: Brave, strong and a powerful fighter who can conquer and imprison enemies.

Peggy also never came to light in the story. But she started off as Aasira in my head.

The other names in this story:

Thor/Thorfinn.

The name Thorfinn means: Strength of a Thunder.

Loki/Uruloki.

The name Uruloki means: Fire breathing dragon. (hahaha. So there’s that.)

Sam/Samuel.

The name Samuel means: It was told by the God.

Tony/Anthony.

The name Anthony means: They are unique and a priceless flower. (So that is super fitting for Tony.)

Clint/Clinttun.

The name Clinttun means: One who hails from the highland estate. (Or in my mind, someone who is up high, which is also fitting here. Sort of.)

And finally Scott aka Scott. Which yeah, there is no meaning here. Sooo just go with it.

The Story Behind the Story.

This series is based loosely on actual Greek mythology, and some of the tales surrounding Aphrodite, Ares, and Hephaestus. But also some myths around Hermes, Peitho, The 3 Graces, Cedalion, Zeus, Hera and Athena. Some of the tales are from The Odyssey, The Iliad, and a few from more recent works.

The parts that I stuck to are:

- Hermes and Peitho are married.

- Hephaestus imprisoned Hera in a golden throne to force Zeus to give him Aphrodites hand in marriage. But Zeus also wanted to marry Aphrodite off quickly to prevent the other Gods from fighting over her.

- Peitho and The 3 Graces/Charites are Aphrodite’s attendants and closes advisers.

- Ares and Hermes are the closes Gods can be to best friends. Supposedly.

- Hephaestus is the God of Craftsmanship, and Volcanoes. Hence why I choose for him to trap her under a Volcano. Did I mention that? Shit. I hope so.

- Zeus and Hera are the parents of Ares.

- Zeus isn’t fond of Aphrodites disreputable and promiscuous ways. Though he isn’t really one to talk what with his own insanely promiscuous ways, soooo.

- Ares and Aphrodite have a long standing love affair, which goes behind Hephaestus’ back. And he does find out about it.

- Hephaestus is rumoured to have a bad leg, which he was either born with or Zeus made lame by force. Either or.

- Aphrodite does actually attempt to trick Hephaestus into believing that Athena is in love with him, in an attempt to get out of marrying him. However, Athena is rumoured to have never loved anyone, and after Hephastus nearly rapes her, does he finally realize Aphrodite had actually tricked him.

- Aphrodite does in fact hate Hephaestus, meaning she definitely doesn’t love him.

- Cedalion is actually Hephaestus’ attendant.

- Mytikas is actually the highest peak of Olympus, where it is believed the Gods reside.

- It is believed the Artemis was the Goddess that created Lycans. She also went by the name Selene, who is believed to be the mother of all Werewolves and Lycans, alike.

The parts that I altered are:

- In some accounts Aphrodite and Hephaestus are actually supposed to be the married ones. And in others, Hephaestus is married to another, and Aphrodite is the unmarried concert of Ares. So I sort of pulled from both.

- The fact everyone is related and sleeping together, yeah, I altered that fact for sure.

- Aphrodite basically being the worst of them all, and sleeping with damn near every God on Olympus. Get it girl.

- Obviously Hephaestus doesn’t trap Aphrodite under a Valcano for thousands of years. But he does lay a trap for Ares and her once he learns they are having an affair behind his back. The trap catches both of them in the act, and then Hephaestus brings all the Gods in to humiliate them both as revenge. That’s sort of where my inspiration came from. Sort of.

Lycan Vs Werewolf.

As for why I chose Lycans instead of Werewolves, the answer is quite simple really. Werewolves were believed to be created by witchcraft, whereas Lycans were created by the Gods. And as I knew all along that Artemis’ character would create the Lycan army for Ari, it all stood to reason that I’d pick them to be Lycans over Werewolves. Plus Lycans are believed to be stronger, faster, smarter and harder to kill. So that worked in my favour as well.

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

Anywho, that’s all from me. This series is finished and now on to new and interesting stories! So stay tuned!

[crystalelemental]

Antagonists of Elibe

When I was writing up the Limstella character piece, there was a point I wanted to fit in but couldn’t find a good way to introduce without breaking the flow.  My wife insisted I should make a separate post about it, so here it is.  The main point is that, across both Elibe games, a big emphasis seems to be placed on empathy and understanding the other side of things, and how that ties in to the antagonists, how they’re presented, and why each outcome is so impactful to me, personally.

Empathy in Elibe Starting with the main prospect, I think empathy is kind of a central theme for Elibe.  Not in a specific sense, but in the broad sense of having empathy and compassion for all life, not just your own.  Our protagonists, Eliwood and Roy, are almost entirely defined by their kindness, understanding, and acceptance of others.

Eliwood’s supports with Ninian are entirely around this.  Ninian is hesitant with him at first, and with others, given her history.  Her mother was killed in a war with humans, the remainder of her people were driven into exile beyond the dragon’s gate, and as a high-profile oracle in their world, she deals endlessly with the dragons who seek revenge upon humans to reclaim their world.  Dragons and humans have always seemed to have bad blood for one another.  Yet here’s Eliwood, who can honestly tell her that her background doesn’t matter.

Ninian: “It’s strange.  All of you treat my brother and me so...normally.  Doesn’t it bother you?  Our powers, our looks.  We’re different from...people...” Eliwood: “Has that been bothering you?  What’s wrong with being a bit different from other people?  When I look at you, I don’t see other people.  I see Ninian.  A normal, kindhearted girl.”

The entire basis of their relationship is because they can look past the differences, and find commonalities.  They’re able to see the good in the other, and that in turn paves the way for Roy.

Roy is similarly able to see the good in everything.  He comes to the aid of others, and seeks to protect all life, not just his own.  This culminates in his battle with Zephiel, his proclamation of faith in the good in humans, and finally his decision to protect and save Idunn.  The entire focus of these games is about a family starting to correct the ills of the past, and reaching out to the other side in friendship.  Sound familiar?

I feel like Fire Emblem, as a series, really likes to play with this.  It’s the entire basis for the Tellius games, and is the central theme of Fodlan, which is why I believe Claude’s route is the true route.  But that’s something for another day.  The main reason I bring this up is to shift into the antagonists, and how their actions and histories play with the central theme.

Zephiel I’m gonna start with Zephiel, since I have the least to talk about with him.  Zephiel’s history is that, as a child, he excelled as a leader, a soldier, at pretty much everything.  Yet his father only hated him for it.  He believed that Zephiel could not possibly be his legitimate heir, and felt jealousy toward Zephiel’s accomplishments.  So much so that he tried to have Zephiel assassinated.  Twice, if Binding Blade’s explanation if different from the event in Blazing Blade.  Zephiel has grown up surrounded by hate, even within his own race.  Humans from different countries can’t even get along, and everything with them is about seizing power and siding with those who are strong.  The entire progression of Biding Blade is to accentuate Zephiel’s point: every minor antagonist sides with Bern for selfish motivations.  Humans can’t be trusted, so we should turn leadership over to dragons, who will do a better job.

Roy disagrees, and because we’ve lived the adventure with him, we can see Zephiel’s point, but we also see Roy’s.  Whenever something has gone off course, humans corrected the problem.  Turning leadership over to dragons to rule is just keeping the same problem, but changing which hand is holding it.  Dragon leadership alone would be no better, and the true ending route confirms this belief.  We learn about the earthly dragons, how they chose to lead and respond to the Scouring, and the lengths they went to.  They’re no better than humans.  They were willing to torture a child into becoming a living weapon for them, claiming survival.  But we know from Blazing Blade, if survival were all they sought, they could have fled beyond the Dragon’s Gate.  This was an act of domination against humans, and Zephiel’s aim was to facilitate that dominance.

Zephiel serves as a villain because he fails to empathize with the full picture.  He’s simply lashing out at humanity, which has done awful things to him, in fairness.  But he’s willing to deny any wrongdoing on the part of dragons, and willingly uses Idunn as a tool of war, just as the dragons did before.  That’s the villain path.  Even if Zephiel truly believed that humans are better off living under dragon control.  Even if Zephiel believes that dragons were less cruel than humans.  The fact that he’s willing to sacrifice and use the lives of others to achieve an ambition is where he’s gone wrong.  Life cannot be sacrificed for a greater good, and that alone is what sets Zephiel up as the villain.

Nergal Nergal is very similar to Zephiel, but in a different direction.  For those not familiar with his history, Nergal was alive at the time of the Scouring.  He was a practitioner of the dark arts, who had married a dragon, and even had two children with said dragon.  However, when the Scouring was picking up, his wife was captured by humans.  Nergal set out to get her back, but left his children on the Dread Isle near the Dragon’s Gate, and told them to pass through it if he hadn’t returned in ten days’ time.  Though he sought to keep them safe if he failed, the end result was that Nergal was too late to save his wife, and then too late to return to his children.  His family was gone.  For hundreds of years, he wandered the world, until he met Athos, a hero of the Scouring.  They traveled together for a time, and eventually found Arcadia, a hidden oasis in the desert where humans and dragons lived in harmony.  It was here that Nergal found the secret art of manipulating quintessence, known only to dragons, and likely divine dragons.  Using this art, Nergal would kill living creatures, and began to create Morphs, entities with human likeness, but allegedly no emotion or drive beyond serving their creator.  I talked a lot about whether this is true in the Limstella analysis, so please refer to that for the rebuttal.

The point is, given the history, Nergal is set to be a sympathetic villain, much like Zephiel.  He lost his entire family to a meaningless war, found a way to possibly revive his wife, then loses his reason for this and seeks only power.  It’s a tragedy, right?  Well, yes, but honestly I think there was no other outcome.

When you dig into Nergal, there’s one thing that’s clear: Nergal steadily lost himself.  It wasn’t all at once.  When Athos confronts him, it’s unlikely he’s lost himself completely by this.  And even if he had, starting out, Nergal knew what he was doing.  He weighed the choice, and determined that sacrificing other life to bring back his wife was a good trade.  There’s no empathy for other life, only its use for his own purposes.  He doesn’t see past his trauma.

What’s more, Morphs clearly have souls.  They think and feel.  Limstella’s dialogue makes this clear, Kishuna’s existence makes this clear, Canas and Renault’s supports make this clear.  Yet it’s very directly stated that Nergal creates his Morphs, then abandons them.  Unless they’re part of his ultimate goal, he has no use for them.  And he makes a lot.  When Kishuna was created, he was, I believe, #252.  This was when Nergal still had care for his successful creations, as opposed to the later flashback where he’s telling Kishuna to rot as a worthless creation.  Even before Nergal devolved to the point of only seeking power, he was creating life and casting it aside, as if it were nothing.  He even tells Kishuna that “it won’t do to refer to you as a number,” implying that most of his creations are just numbers.  He thinks very little of other life, even from the start.  There was never enough care for others, and thus this path to villainy was almost guaranteed.

The Limits of Empathy The previous two antagonists bring up a compelling thought: what are the limits of empathy?  When has a person gone too far to give consideration to the past and circumstances that led them here?  I think Eliwood’s confrontation with Nergal sums it up nicely:

Nergal: “It confirmed some things for me.  That trust brings betrayal.  That friends bring weakness!” Eliwood: “If that’s what you learned from your encounter, then you are a fool.  Do you believe for a moment, than when Athos struck down his dearest friend, he felt nothing?!  His heart was torn in two, and yet you refused to understand that!  Nergal!  I will defeat you! Here!  Today!  But, even now there is no hatred in my heart.  You, who were born human.  You, who lost the heart that defines your humanity...  For you, I have nothing but pity.”

There are two answers.  One is “never.”  Even at the end of their conflict, Eliwood never holds hate for Nergal.  After everything, there’s still a level of human connection that triumphs over hatred.  The second is, when they become dismissive of other life.  Nergal was always dismissive, and when Athos fought against him, all he learned was that friends betray you, rather than that his actions were wrong.

I’ve only played Binding Blade once (as opposed to the like 50 times I’ve played Blazing Blade), but I don’t recall Roy holding any hatred for Zephiel, or anyone else, either.  Rather, he recognizes that what they’re doing brings harm to people, and seeks to stop them because he must.

That’s the limit these games suggest.  When someone is actively endangering life, using life as a tool for their own gains.  That’s when you can’t let understanding of their circumstances stay your hand.  But it’s equally important to never lose that empathy, that heart that defines humanity.

Idunn Idunn is the odd antagonist out, and my personal favorite of the three.  Idunn’s history is...honestly the opposite of the other two.  She embodies the first answer but neglects the second.  Idunn is a divine dragon.  During the Scouring, the earthly dragons sought aid from the divine dragons, requesting the creation of War Dragons.  They were losing the war because dragon reproduction is significantly longer than human reproduction, and so they were essentially outnumbered.  War Dragons could be spawned by divine dragons, likely in a similar fashion to the creation of Morphs, and could turn the tide of the war.  The divine dragons refused the request, and left Elibe entirely.  Except one.

Idunn was the only one to hesitate.  As it’s explained in the endgame of Binding Blade, she felt empathy for the earthly dragons, and worried about their circumstances.  This allowed them to catch her, and subsequently destroy her soul, creating the Demon Dragon that would obey their commands to flood the world in War Dragons.  When the dragons lost the war anyway, Idunn was sealed away for 1000 years, until Zephiel awakened her.  Zephiel then used her to again bring War Dragons into the world, in an effort to turn the world over to dragons. 

Idunn is such a unique case to me, because the only defining personality trait we get from her is her empathy.  She couldn’t just abandon the earthly dragons without attacks of conscience.  Yet because of that, she was captured and betrayed.  The divine dragons were right to leave the earthly dragons behind, knowing what they would do.  Perhaps it’s because Idunn was young, or perhaps it’s because she was a divine dragon and had never associated with the earthly dragons or humans, but she didn’t understand that some people could be cruel.  She didn’t realize that, despite feeling that empathy for the dragons, there was a good reason to turn them down.

It also established another important point.  Jahn, the last dragon standing with Idunn, expresses that dragons don’t have emotions, and that dragons and humans could not possibly live together because of these differences.  He calls Brunnya incomprehensible, and seems to look down on emotion as a weakness exclusive to humans.  Yet we see that empathy from Idunn, we’ve seen Arcadia where humans and dragons do coexist, and in Blazing Blade we see Ninian and Nils, who are definitely expressive.  Jahn seems to have internalized this sense of hatred toward humanity, such that he rejects any possible similarities to connect with.  Jahn is a symbol of the hatred the dragons had toward humans, and likely that humans felt toward dragons.  Idunn and Jahn together paint the picture that dragons and humans are more alike than they seem, and that the earthly dragons made a choice to continue the fighting, and to continue hating humans.

This isn’t lost on Roy, either, whose final act is one of compassion.  In absolute threat level, Idunn is a bigger risk to keep around than Zephiel ever was.  Zephiel started a war, but Idunn had the potential to endlessly flood the world with war dragons, and end humanity entirely.  Yet in applied threat...Idunn was never a threat at all.  She was a victim of the war, someone who never sought to hurt anyone, and never had a choice in her role.  Comparatively, Zephiel and Jahn both cast aside consideration for her and others, and sought to use her as a weapon for their own ends.  Roy’s final act is stopping Idunn from carrying out her orders, but then saves her life, bringing her to Arcadia to restore her soul.  Chronologically, this is when the mistakes of Elibe’s past are finally righted, and relations between humans and dragons can begin on a grander scale.  In any other circumstance, had someone cast aside empathy when doing what needed to be done, Idunn would be killed and a threat removed.  It is specifically because Roy maintains empathy toward others, even his enemies, that old wounds can finally heal.

Conclusions Elibe is still my favorite.  Blazing Blade may have been my first game, but I really feel it holds up, even now.  While there are people who say the stories aren’t that strong, or that the casts aren’t that strong, I feel like what stands out with Elibe is how it integrates its themes and the understandable nature of their villains.  A lot of games in the series either don’t go for sympathetic villain, or try in a way that doesn’t quite hit home.  The Blades games manage to present villains with a compelling and sympathetic history, while simultaneously expressing that some people are beyond redemption.  And I think that’s a good balance to strike.  It’s important to always consider what impacts another, and what their lives were like.  But there have to be limits in what’s tolerated based on a sympathetic past, and sometimes you do have to stand against someone who’s wrong, no matter what they’ve been through.  But at the end of the day, the one thing you can’t abandon is that empathy for others.  Even when taking a stand against evil, hate can’t be the reason you do so.

[black-kitten-imagines]

An unforeseen rescue ~ Aramis x reader

Picture not mine

Word count: 1,593

Warnings: some violence, but what else would you expect of a Musketeer fanfiction

Summary: The four musketeers are enjoying their day off when d’Artagnan is attacked by a stranger.

The square was bustling with people going along their business. There were a few older ladies sitting under a tree weaving baskets while keeping an eye on what their grandchildren were doing. There were a few scavenging dogs here and there trying to steal some scraps while dodging the boots of angry vendors. The four musketeers Athos, Porthos, Aramis and d’Artagnan were standing at the edge of the square under the arches that protected the walkway from wind and weather. Aramis was leaning against one of the stone pillars while the rest of the group stood near by.

The four of them were enjoying the peacefully normal everyday life of the people around them as they took a short break from their duties. On days like this with the sun shining through the luscious green leaves of the trees and when the chirping of the birds and the happy chattering of the people passing by were the only noises to be heard, everything seemed so peaceful, no violence, no danger, no one plotting against the king and queen – it all seemed so far away.

Over the crowd the more spiritual one of the group noticed a stranger coming towards them. He was wearing worn out pants, a shirt and brown leather boots. A scabbard and rapier hung at his side and his face was concealed by the hood of a cloak. Aramis had no doubt that the armed stranger was coming straight towards them.

Just as he pushed himself off of the pillar to warn his friends the stranger raised his voice. “Hey, you!”, he directed it at d’Artagnan. This startled the young man from the peaceful idyll he was captured by, making him send a surprised look the direction of the approaching person. Having his attention the stranger shouted: “Yeah you, musketeer scum!”  There was a slight grin detectable in the person’s voice. The words shocked the older musketeers and angered the young impulsive hothead.

Walking towards them the stranger’s rapier was pulled and immediately connected with d’Artagnan’s weapon. The clashing of metal on metal disrupted the tranquility of the afternoon. While blow after blow followed the other three wondered what their companion could’ve done to attract this person’s anger. The two fighters were almost dancing that elegant were their movements. Both of them seemed to be equal until suddenly d’Artagnan landed on the ground defeated, the opponent’s blade at his throat.

Just as the others wanted to step in, the attacker who had kept his hood on during the whole fight pulled it of only to reveal a woman underneath it. This made the older musketeers halt in their steps and a smile of recognition spread onto d’Artagnan’s face.

“(Y/n)!”, he shouted out full of surprise. “Hey there, farm boy!”, the girl said with a grin as d’Artagnan stood back up again. “How come you’re here?”, he asked and engulfed her in a tight hug. “You owed me a fight.” At that response the young man had to chuckle. “You improved”, he stated impressed. “Well, after you left I had a lot of free time on my hands”, (Y/n) said cheerfully.

Suddenly d’Artagnan grew serious pushing the girl away from him so he could look at her properly. “What’s with your dad? Does he know you’re here? He’ll be furious.” Being friends with her for such a long time d’Artagnan knew how her father hated it when (Y/n) went out on adventures, when she wasn’t the good little girl staying on the premises of their farm and how violent he could become.

Unlike d’Artagnan (Y/n) didn’t seem scared at the thought of her father. The happiness and cheerfulness didn’t disappear from her voice when she responded, a glint of relief in her eyes. “My old man finally cut the curb and now I’m a free woman!” As those last words left her mouth she turned high-spirited in a circle her arms wide spread as if she were trying to hug everything around her. “No family to bind me to that horribly boring place. And of course I had to come and see you”, she concluded which ended up in the two of them hugging again.

During the whole conversation the three other musketeers watched carefully. They still had no clue of what was going on. That was when the youngest musketeer brought (Y/n) over to introduce her.

“Guys, this is (Y/n) a childhood friend of mine from Gascony. (Y/n), these are my comrades Athos, Porthos and Aramis.” One after the other they bowed slightly. Being the romantic hero type Aramis of course had to be flamboyant by taking her hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles which made her blush.

Never had a man paid this sort of attention to (Y/n). Back in Gascony they all thought she was weird as (Y/n) knew how to fight and didn’t behave like the typical woman should and therefore they kept their distance. (Y/n) never cared about those boys back home but this man in front of her made her heart skip a beat.

Aramis was just as infatuated by her as she was with him. In his eyes she was the most beautiful and confident woman he had ever seen and he was impressed by her fighting skills.

“So (Y/n)”, d’Artagnan said turning back to his friend, “what are your plans for your stay in Paris?” Nervously chuckling and scratching the back of her neck the girl looked up at him. “Other than never wanting to leave ever again I don’t really have any. I still have to find a place to sleep.” “You want to stay in Paris?”, d’Artagnan asked surprised. “Yeah, I love it here, all the people, the action. And also... I... I kinda sold off the farm”, she replied embarrassed. “You did what?!. You sold the farm without even having any plan for the future, no place to stay?!” The girl looked away embarrassed.

“Hey, hey, we can see if you can spend a few nights at the garrison”, Aramis jumped in to spare (Y/n) from d’Artagnan’s anger. At the proposition the (e/c) eyes of the girl lit up in hope. D’Artagnan sighed. “Ok, but we have to go check something out. You stay here and afterwards I can maybe show you around Paris.”

“D’Artagnan you can’t just leave me here. It’s so boring. I want to come with you. Come on. Please?”, (Y/n) begged her finger itching for adventure, “you saw that I can take care of myself.” D’Artagnan didn’t like the idea of taking her with them but he couldn’t say ‘no’ to her pleading eyes and he knew she was far too stubborn to talk her out of this. So sighing he agreed causing the girl to jump up ecstatically.

When the five of them reached the old, vacant tavern where they were supposed to meet a merchant to seal a deal it was suspiciously empty. The musketeers immediately knew something was off. Turning to leave again they stopped in their tracks as unnoticed by them quite a handful of heavily armed men had entered the room add started to circle them.

An ambush.

The strangers’ weapons were already drawn. In response five more blades were unsheathed. Without a word spoken the ambushers attacked. There were far more men sent by the merchant than Aramis and his companions, so each of them had to take on multiple attackers.

Aramis regretted that he had led (Y/n) into this danger by not refusing to take her, but his mind wasn’t occupied by this thought for too long as two of the enemies charged towards him.

Slowly but surely one man after the other fell to the floor hardly standing a chance to the well trained musketeers. Even (Y/n) was able to stand her ground.

Once in a while one of the attackers’ blows would hit their target but luckily only causing some bruises through the armour or some minor cuts.

Just as they had thought they nearly made it another mad appeared out of nowhere the blade of the weapon heading straight for the charming musketeer’s chest. Aramis saw this coming but couldn’t do anything about it as he had his hands full with keeping two other men at arms length.

Luckily, he wasn’t the only one who noticed the appearance of this new man. Their new found companion had as well. Scared for the life of the attractive man fighting next to her, her swings grew more violent and she finally stuck her last opponent to the ground.

As soon as she had rid herself of him she ran over to Aramis just in time preventing him from being seriously injured by burrowing her blade into the back of the attacker which resulted in him dropping to the floor.

In the meantime the other four musketeers had rid themselves of the remaining rivals.

“Thanks, for saving my life”, Aramis said a little out of breath. “You’re welcome, handsome”, (Y/n) replied winking cheekily.

Since that fateful and very eventful day a few weeks had passed. Treville had allowed (Y/n) to stay at the musketeer garrison as long as she liked as a way to show her his gratitude for saving one of his most loyal men. The girl didn’t plan on leaving any time soon. She enjoyed spending time with the musketeers and aiding them on their missions. And once in a while she and Aramis would sneak off spending the afternoon off, away from the city on rides in the country enjoying the tranquility.

[a-deep-ocean-of-secrets]

Is there one thing that every couple you ship has, like a similar trait that draws you in?

Huh! Very interesting question. Honestly, I’ve never sat down and thought about why I love the ships that I love and if there is a common thread between them all. Wow. Well, now seems like a perfect time to try it out. I’m going to outline the major ships in my life (right now) and describe why they appeal to me, and we’ll see what - if anything - they have in common.

Stydia: Classic slowburn. Stydia is a beautiful ship because it developed slowly and thoughtfully over six seasons as we watched both Lydia and Stiles grow individually and together. It began as Stiles obsessing over her from a distance and Lydia having no idea who he was. Stiles had a crush on her since he was a kid and he simultaneously knew things about her that no one else did (her intelligence) but also had her on a lofty pedestal as his dream girl. It isn’t until season 3 that we could see a real shift in their dynamic. They become friends. They’re the brains of the pack and often do the detective work together. They lean on one another. They are vulnerable with each other. It becomes established that they have such a strong connection, Lydia can bring him back from the brink of death. They gain so much momentum in Season 3 and then the brakes are halted in Season 4. Stiles dates someone else. I’m not the biggest fan of Stiles/Malia, but I can absolutely see the necessity in them as a couple. Stiles needed to date someone other than Lydia. He needed to experience a real relationship so he could determine if what he felt for Lydia was fantasy or real. Season 5 did a great job of slowly intertwining Stiles and Lydia back into each other’s orbits. He goes to extreme lengths to save her from Eichen House. Then she does the same in 6A to bring him back when he’s taken by the Ghost Riders. I firmly believe that the reason she didn’t forget him the same way the others did (including his best friend and father) is because of the emotional tether that exists between them and was established in Season 3. That’s why she was so sure he existed even when she couldn’t remember him fully. I really love Stydia because they are such an epic love story. And it was such a delight to watch throughout the seasons. By the end of Teen Wolf, they were the only reason I was watching. 

Staron: I will preface this by saying that I have not read the comics, so most of my love of Staron comes from their MCU depictions. Wild, huh? So many people seem to hate MCU Staron, but I love them. They were definitely short-changed as a couple, but they land as well as any other pairing in the MCU. Let’s face it, the MCU kinda sucks at romance. What do I love about Staron? First of all, I think they’re a great team. Even when apart, they seem in sync with one another. Sharon is so loyal to Steve. She’s the first to fight back against Hydra - really, against SHIELD - after Steve makes the announcement through the building. And let’s face it, Steve would have been royally screwed in Civil War if he hadn’t had Sharon there to feed him intel, help him realize Zemo was a person of interest and smuggled out his gear. Steve needs Sharon’s help. And that’s saying a lot because the guy is nearly indestructible. And I love that Steve is awkward and sheepish around Sharon. We saw that on display in the hallway scene from the Winter Soldier. He reverts back to the Steve of the 40s offering that girl peanuts. As much as he is a hunk, he still has no idea how to talk to women. It’s so endearing. And with Sharon, you can see that he wants to be more than Captain America. He just wants to be Steve Rogers. He is cool, calm, and collected with all of the other women in his life (Natasha, Maria, Wanda) but Sharon gets under his skin and causes him to stumble over his words. There’s something very human about their interactions. They feel like a real world couple trying to figure things out. I don’t know, I just find the two of them so wholesome when they’re together. They have so much promise and I am bummed that AE will probably be the end of Steve, and therefore the end of Staron in the MCU. A girl can only hope we’ll see more of them. But I’m not holding my breath.

Winterpanther: I’ll admit, a lot of love for this ship is based off headcanon and fanfiction. I am a sucker for enemies to friends to lovers (shoutout to Mara and Luke from Star Wars) and Winterpanther has the potential to be this. Obviously, they may seem like an unlikely pairing because T’Challa wanted to kill Bucky. Seems kinda hard to move past that. But yet, by the end of Civil War, T’Challa has seen how poisonous revenge is to the soul and has offered asylum to Bucky in Wakanda. It’s really from there where Winterpanther grows as a ship. One reason I love them is because I’m such a big fan of the White Wolf storyline. Bucky at times never feels like a fully formed character, more like a foil to Steve and motivation for Steve’s character. As important as Steve and Bucky are to one another, I think it’s fair to say that Bucky lives in Steve’s shadow. Putting Bucky in Wakanda gives the character a whole new dimension that is sorely lacking in the MCU. When I think of the two, I think of how they have both dealt with darkness in their lives. Both physically and metaphorically, these are two characters who have fallen from great heights and had to claw their way back up. They both lived such promising lives that were torn apart by tragedy and then had to adapt to their new circumstances. Having so much in common, I can easily see the two leaning on one another, sharing their stories. T’Challa is a man willing to be vulnerable and isn’t bogged down by toxic masculinity. He’d be someone Bucky could confide in, someone Bucky isn’t afraid to let down, like Steve. They are both so strong, T’Challa is a warrior by choice and Bucky was forced to be a soldier. But yet I think they could bond over such upbringings. They know sacrifice and defeat. When written well, Winterpanther is such a compelling ship. 

Athos/Sylvie: This couple gave me all the feels when I watched The Musketeers. A lot of fans of the show ship Athos/Milady, but I could never get behind them. They are so toxic to one another that they could never make each other happy moving forward. Too much had happened, they had hurt each other too many times to ever be a couple. Honestly, they would have ended by one killing the other. That was the only way Athos/Milday would have ended had they actually become a couple again. But then Sylvie was introduced. She knows who she is and what she stands for. She doesn’t compromise her ideals or goals for other people. And she really shakes up Athos’ world. Before her, he was a man completely closed off to the world. He was a drunk and was only held together by his sense of duty to the Musketeers. He had sworn off love, marriage, children, etc. He really was a shell of the man he had once been. But when he meets Sylvie, and really opens himself up to her, you can see that he wants things out of life once again. He realizes there is more to his existence than just duty or leadership. He starts wanting things and letting go of his tightly wound up control. He gives in to Sylvie, lets her take his burdens. Athos and Sylvie are a bit like a roller coaster, constantly up and down as they fight to understand one another and be a partner to each other in a way that doesn’t completely erase who they are as individuals. But by the end of Season 3, Athos is willing to step away from the Musketeers to begin a family with Sylvie. He realizes that there is more to him than just being a soldier. He has hope again. He believes in love. He’s looking towards the future. The Athos at the end of the series is miles away from the Athos we were introduced to in Season 1. I loved watching his story with Sylvie. And I am so glad that he was given a happy ending with someone like her. Also, the sexual chemistry these two had? A-MAZ-ING.

[empathetixss]

Margaery Tyrell Verses ( taken from my old blog )

( V: YOU WERE JUST A ROSEBUD ONCE (YOUTH) )

Margaery as a child growing up in Highgarden.

( V: THE GOLDEN ROSE OF HIGHGARDEN )

Margaery as a teenager in Highgarden. (ages 13-14)

( V: LOVELY AS A DAWN (GOT/ACOK) )

Margaery during her marriage to Renly. sub versus: (listed with particular players.)

When Winter met Spring (Robb Stark marries Margaery after Renly dies)

( V: GROWING STRONG EVEN UNDER LION’S CLAWS (ASOS) )

Book Canon. Margaery of House Tyrell. She is gentle and kind, sweet and beloved by the small folk. Recently engaged to one Joffrey Baratheon. She is the QUEEN to be, though the real question is, does she desire it? Verses that are housed under this verse LOTR Verse - Elvish Rose - Mace Tyrell is Half-Elven. He marries a human, Alerie Hightower and chooses the fate of the mortals. His children have the choice as well, His youngest has not chosen her fate yet. Lady Rose - Lady of a keep. Margaery is a mortal, that lives close to Rivendell. (or in some verses Mirkwood)

( V: OF THORNS (AFFC/ADWD) )

During Margaery’s Trial by Faith. She’s held in a tower by the septa’s and The High Sparrow. After the evidence falls away from Margaery, she is released into the custody of Randyll Tarly.

( V: UNE ROSE DANS DE LE NORD )

After House Tyrell falls on the ‘wrong side of history.’ Loras is sent to the Stormlands, Garlan is sent to the vale, and sweet, young, Margaery is sent to the North. On top of all of this, the Tyrell’s must pay a certain amount of gold every year to the crown to keep the children fed. Or so they are told. Margaery wins over House Stark and eventually ends up betrothed to Robb Stark.

( V: WINTER IN OUR BONES )

Margaery is engaged to marry Robb Stark, but it all ends at the Red Wedding. Jon Snow, now Jon Stark, saves her life. (with: @moreastark )

( V: THE FRANKISH ROSE )

Season 2-3: Margaery is the daughter of Frankish King Mace Tyrell. He’s done his best with all three of his sons, now he wants Margaery in on the game. Yet there was a reason she was kept hidden. To keep his kingdom safe Mace was forced to give up his beautiful daughter to King Ragnar. Now in Kattegat, she has to survive.

Season 4B: Margaery is the daughter of a Frankish Lord. She resides in Paris and among Princess Gisla and Duke Rollo's court. She's just a lady in the court, curious about the Viking Raiders among them at the moment.

( V: DRIPPING IN GOLD )

A royalty au currently under construction. (Verse with: halfawolf)

( V: HOIST THE COLOURS )

grim tides/Black Sails/POTC/Pirate!Queen Margaery. Queen of the Pacific, and Agean, The Rose of Highgarden has truly come a long way. From stowing away on a ship as a small child to escape the British Attack on her family, to having her own crew, she’s practically unstoppable. It doesn’t hurt that many of her male counterparts doubt her ability as a pirate captain because she’s a woman. She proves them wrong, Every. Single. Time.

( V: THINGS WE LOST )

From a young age, Margaery was betrothed to Jon Targaryen. The Heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Now, it’s time for them to bring their families together. (w: halfawolf)

V: THINGS WE LOST TO THE FLAME

Jon is exiled and stripped of his title, Margaery is forced to wed another, life is not as she planned it until Jon comes back to her. (w: moreastark)

( V: THE RELUCTANCE OF THE WOLF )

(A WANTED VERSE) Forced into marriage with one another by Lady Olenna and Lady Catelyn’s arrangement. Margaery tries to make the best of her fate. Lady Catelyn is a joy and kind to her. Wonderful in every way. While Robb… Robb is cold to her. Margaery becomes scared that she is trapped in another loveless marriage and struggles to understand her cold & grim husband.

( V: A MODERN ROSE )

Margaery works for her father a respected lawyer in the Tyrell Firm. In her spare time, she paints.

Gangster Lawyer: assilat-vojjor Drogo is a respected Gang leader on trial for a murder he didn’t commit. Margaery is his Lawyer. Our Gentle Sin: astormcrow. Margaery and Daario get close to one another, start an affair. At the same time, he kills people for a living. Crushing them in high heels and pearls: wintersking. Margaery is Robb’s boss. Currently they’re having a torrid affair.

If you let my soul out (it’ll come right back to you.)  Reincarnation verse.

The Drifter: Margaery Tyrell runs into Jon Snow while wandering the streets of Paris. & she can’t help but be drawn to him. Little does she know that he is hiding a secret. (w: moreastark)

( V: A COLLEGE ROSE QUEEN )

Margaery is the Youngest of the Tyrell’s. Attending Harvard Law in the fall, Margaery is just trying to make it in a family that vacations in Europe for the hell of it. Mostly she’s just looking for fun.

( V: OBLIVION )

Margaery Tyrell is a British-born scientist, working for the government. She double majored in biology and anthropology. She’s never really thought much of the superhero’s other than the fact that they’ve saved the world. She proud of the work she does and believes in what’s right for the future. That being said, her loyalty is not easily swayed or bought. (Notes for Marvel-verse)

* Recruited by Nick Fury. * Security Level Clearance: 5 (sub verses): Webbed Roses with webheadedhero You Can Keep Your Shield On with buyxwarxbonds Notes for DC verse * Recruited by the Secretary of Defense. * Lived in Metropolis

(V: A LADY IN WAITING (TWQ) )

The White Queen Verse: Margaery is a noble lady. Her family has the symbol of the Golden rose. They are neither York or Lancaster. Tyrell’s are really all for themselves.

( V: A LADY IN WAITING (TUDOR) )

Upon hearing of the death of her beloved cousin Anne, Margaery ventures to King Henry VIII’s court for answers. - She’s managed to ensnare the king in her thorns and finds herself caught as well, because her feelings fro him have grown beyond what she thought they would. (Timeline: Anne of Cleves is queen, but before Kitty Howard meets Henry.) - Anne sent for her cousin before her death and she has been there since her second miscarriage. verse with vivatreginam -Margaery arrives after the death of her cousin Anne, taking in Elizabeth and offering up her home as a place for her. verse with any elizabeth

( V: A ROSE OF FRANCE )

French born, but Spain raised Margaery Tyrell, is brought back to court along with the rest of her family when they hear of Prince Francis’ wedding to Mary Stuart. Of course they are overjoyed and offer their services to the young couple swearing themselves to them. While Margaery’s ambitious grandmother seeks a powerful marriage for Margaery perhaps with a royal of Scotland, Margaery skeeks to get to know the future queen better. Hoping to call her friend one day.

( V: LA BELLE PETITE ROSE )

BBC’s The Musketeers Verse. Margaery is the King’s Cousin, but that doesn’t mean much in France. Serving under Queen Anne as a Lady in Waiting, she is happy with her position. Although, she is intrigued by The Musketeers in the service of the King. 

Une Rose de Versailles: A Noble Catholic Lady from the south of france, originally she’s engaged to the Dux De Baratheon known as Joffrey. She’s not very happy with the match, as the man has a reputation for cruelty. She has come to Versailles, when the King moves court from Paris to there. She finds herself a bit more at ease there, she is able to be herself more and be around women other than her future mother-in-law. Her fiance hates it and wishes to return to Paris. She has hope that she might catch the king’s eye, but she knows that women here are everywhere each wanting a piece of the king.

( V: OF IRON THORNS )

Margaery has taken the Iron Throne through her son after the death of her husband. Now she has to keep it. (husband can be Renly, Joffrey, or Tommen.)

( V: THE TALES ARE REAL )

The Original Rose Beauty: Margaery was a noble lady in Snow’s court, but also a friend for Queen Regina until her identity as a Princess and future Queen of her own realm was reviled. Margaery was Aurora’s mother, the first sleeping beauty. Sometimes known as Briar Rose. She tried her best to shield her daughter from the curse but was unable to do so. When the first curse hit, she was swept up and sent to Storybrooke. Living under the curse, she works in the flower shop owned by Moe French. She spends her days doing inventory and ordering new flowers when needed. The day that repeated for 28 years, she would visit the sheriff's station with coffee, and cut flowers in the shop. When Emma came to town, she was curious about the woman who seemed to be hanging around Young Henry but said nothing of it. Sticking to herself and the solitary life the curse forced her to lead. After the curse breaks, every memory is brought back to her. She believes she is without her brothers, her husband, and her daughter in this land without magic and would give anything just to see them again.

( V: LIFE IS WAR )

A modern twist on a love story. Verse with moreastark

( V: A LOYAL KNIGHT )

Athos entered Margaery’s service when she was still married to Joffrey. The sadness that surrounded the man caught her attention and she did everything she could to get him to smile. Little did she know she would fall head over heels in love with the knight. They hide it as best as they can although she would rather be with him than apart from him. (w: dettexhonneur)

( V: DON'T FEAR THE REAPER )

Margaery had gotten out. More than that. She had made a place for herself outside of the MC. Her father had just been the MC's lawyer, it wasn't like she had to be anything to them, right? She could go and do whatever she wanted. That is until, she came home. She came home for a funeral and saw... Him again. Jon. She had been to High School with him. He had been her first everything. She had thought for a while, he would be her everything. Until she grew up. She went to college, became a lawyer, and seeing Jon again, made her feel like a teenage girl. Especially on the back of his bike. Now she's got a choice. Stay, start over with the man she loves, or go back... (verse with: moreastark)

( V: DON’T LET YOURSELF BE HUNTED )

When Margaery was a child she always knew there was something different about her, and her family. She always just thought it was odd that her father could influence those around him with a word, her grandmother’s plants never died, and her brothers… Well, Willas’ super memory and intelligence was next to none, and his ability to seemingly communicate with Animals, Garlan and his super strength, Loras and his agility, she wondered what her powers would be. At nine the voices started. She could hear them even in her sleep, it was all so very loud and overwhelming, she just wanted it to stop, but it didn’t. It just got worse and louder, it wasn’t until later that she learned these voices were not in her head, they were in the heads of others. She also learned that she could feel other’s emotions as well and project her own on them. Margaery harnesses the powers of empathy and telepathy, her grandmother does her best to help her control it.

Her family is heavily involved in the Hellfire club, and Margaery didn’t have much of a choice, but to do the same. She has always admired the X-Men though and is considering switching sides.

( V: IN A LAND OF WONDER )

Margaery Tyrell is visiting the Kingdom of Camelot with her father and brother.

( V: MAGIC AMONG US )

Growing Strong. It’s the Tyrell House motto, it’s also Margaery’s personal mantra. She's a Ravenclaw.

( V: GROW TILL YOU CAN’T ANYMORE )

District Eleven, Margaery, and her family have much knowledge about plants, orchards, and people. When Margaery is picked as a tribute, she proves herself and wins her games… Allowing herself to be taken in by the charms of the capitol like her brother before her. She’s become the favorite of many. Alt verses: Burn it all down - Margaery joins the rebellion.

[darknesstodawnuniverse]

Whumptober Day 7 - Guilt

Is it just me or are these getting longer and longer lol. Okay so life with my kids is crazy lately with daddy gone for a bit. So only one again today. Maybe I can play catch up this weekend when I have grandparents around to help with the minions. As usual, unbeta’d so be forgiving :) 

You can find this on ff.net and Ao3 for your reading convenience as well.

Read the rest of my Whumptober 2017 prompt fills here.

This one is a Modern AU - my first attempt at such for this fandom so...we’ll see what you think.

“Do you have a shot?”

Aramis lifted his head from where he was looking through the scope of his rifle, narrowing his eyes at the scene before him. He hoped that perhaps he had misread the situation, but it appeared the same as it had through the scope. He lowered his head again, focusing on the magnified image.

“Diablo, do you have a shot?” Athos demanded over their comms.

“Negative. It’s not clean,” he replied without taking his eyes off the scene playing out down on the docks.

He watched their target press his gun more firmly against the underside of Porthos’ chin. Usually Porthos bulk was an asset, but right now it only served to completely shield the man Aramis wanted very badly to shoot.

“Retriever, what about you?”

Aramis waited hopefully as d’Artagnan’s voice crackled across the comms a moment later.

“Negative. I don’t have the angle. And we’ve got to talk about that code name. If he gets to be something badass like Diablo, I don’t want to be named for a dog.”

“Would you prefer Chihuahua?” Aramis asked with a grin, unable to help himself despite the circumstances.

“No,” d’Artagnan denied fiercely.

“How about Labrador?”

“Shut up, Diablo.”

“Labradoodle?”

“That’s enough. Diablo, take the shot.” Athos' command broke through the moment of lighthearted teasing.

Aramis frowned, never taking his eyes off Porthos or the man holding him captive.

“I told you, it’s not clean. Outlaw is-”

“Outlaw is concussed. He’s not getting himself out of this, so you need to. Take the shot.”

“Give him a moment to regain his senses and he’ll give me an opening.”

“The target is two steps from that boat. If he gets Outlaw on it, he’s dead.”

“But-“

“You see the situation, Diablo. You’re behind the gun. Make the call.”

Aramis swallowed and licked his lips, watching a dazed Porthos be pulled back towards the boat.

“Come on, Porthos…” he whispered softly, adjusting his aim.

The target pulled Porthos a step closer to the boat and the driver revved the engine.

Aramis was out of time.

“Perdóname hermano.” (Forgive me brother.)

He squeezed the trigger. He watched blood explode from Porthos’ shoulder and then both he and the man holding him crumpled to the ground. He watched, still covering Porthos, until Athos ran out onto the docks and the boat sped away.

Only then did Aramis lifted his head, swallowing down a wave of nausea. He rolled away from his rifle and laid on his back. He stared up at the night sky, listening to Athos rattle off more orders.

It took several moments before he realized Athos was trying to raise him on the radio.

“Is he alive?” he asked around the lump in his throat.

“It was a clean hit. He’ll be fine,” Athos assured.

“The target?”

“Dead. You did we-”

“Don’t say it,” he snapped, cutting off the praise. Then after taking a slow breath, he went on. “I’ll find my own way back.” He plucked his earpiece out and in a fit of anger sat up and threw it across the rooftop.

Athos watched the paramedics load Porthos into the ambulance and then climbed in after him.

“Where is he?” Porthos asked for the sixth time, his concussion as serious as Athos had feared.

“He’ll meet us at the hospital,” Athos assured once again.

He hoped it wasn’t a lie. Aramis’ comm had gone dead and his phone was going straight to voicemail. Aramis did this sometimes – went dark on them. Usually after a hard mission. It was only the knowledge that Aramis would never put anything, not even his own feelings, above Porthos that assured Athos that their sniper would not go to that extreme now.

“I’ll follow with the SUV,” d’Artagnan stated from outside the ambulance. Only after Athos nodded did he slam the door shut, pounding a hand against it to let the driver know they were ready to move.

Athos watched Porthos’ gaze wander listlessly around the interior of the ambulance before finally settling back on him.

“Where's ‘Mis?” he asked in bewildered confusion.

I don’t know.

“He’ll meet us there, Porthos.”

Porthos woke feeling remarkably more clear-headed than he had when he’d gone to sleep. The confusing effects of his concussion were fading away and he could finally piece together a bit of what had happened.

He took a moment before opening his eyes, assessing the amount of pain he was in. Getting shot was never a good time, but as such wounds went, this one wasn’t terrible. Something to credit the shooter with, he was sure.

Satisfied that his pain meds were doing their job sufficiently, Porthos opened his eyes, glancing around his hospital room. His brow drew together in confusion when the only face to greet him was that of their team’s youngest.

“Where’s Aramis?” Porthos asked without preamble. He couldn’t remember a time he’d woken up after being injured that his closest brother wasn’t there waiting for him.

D’Artagnan looked a bit like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment before he schooled his expression.

“The doctor says your scans look good. And also that you shouldn’t have any mobility issues once your shoulder heals.”

Porthos stared at him, concern mounting when d’Artagnan nervously shifted his gaze away.

“Where is he?” he asked again, more firmly.

D’Artagnan sighed and looked back at him in resignation.

“We don’t know. His phone is off and he hasn’t check in.”

Porthos felt a rush of cold fear from his head down to his toes. He hated it when Aramis did this. Hated it. He’d done it all the time after Savoy. He would disappear for hours at a time, sometimes days, without a word to anyone. In those days Porthos had worried that they would find him dead, buried under the weight of 20 lost souls and having finally decided to join them.

He didn’t do it as often now, but sometimes when he took a mission too hard, he would go dark again.

“Where’s Athos?” Porthos demanded, gripping the bedrail and hauling himself up to sitting.

D’Artagnan’s eyes went wide and he jumped up from his seat, hands hovering in midair as if he wished to push Porthos back down.

“He’s out looking for Aramis.”

“He won’t find him,” Porthos grumbled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “He never knows where to look.”

“Yes, that’s usually your expertise,” a voice spoke from the doorway.

Porthos twisted, glaring across the room at Athos. Their team leader looked worn and worried, but otherwise composed.

“Did you find him?” Porthos wondered hopefully, despite the claims he’d made moments before.

“Would I be here alone if I had?” Athos countered, coming farther into the room and offering d’Artagnan a steaming cup of coffee. “I’ve called the usual places. I had Constance check the apartment and Treville went to the Garrison. No one has seen him.”

Porthos shook his head, scoffing in exasperated annoyance.

“What?” Athos challenged. “Is there somewhere else I should have looked?”

“Yeah,” Porthos snapped. “HERE.”

Athos frowned, looking uncharacteristically confused.

“He shot me, Athos. He was forced to shoot me. Do you really think he’d be anywhere but here?”

Porthos watched the light in Athos’ eyes spark as he realized the truth of Porthos’ words. He met Porthos’ gaze again.

“He’s staying out of sight, but close enough to keep up with your condition,” Athos theorized.

“Somewhere high,” Porthos added. “With good sightlines.”

“The roof,” d’Artagnan suggested.

They both looked at him sharply, having forgotten he was there, then looked back at each other. Porthos made like he was going to try to stand, but Athos held up a hand.

“I’ll go. He’d be furious if you came tramping up there in your condition.”

Porthos hesitated and Athos sighed.

“He’s my brother too, Porthos,” he reminded quietly. “I’ve got him.”

Athos was not as confident as he portrayed himself to Porthos. And as he pushed his way through the access door that lead out onto the roof, he wondered what he would say if he actually did find Aramis here.

At first, it seemed that Porthos’ uncanny ability to read his best friend’s mind had finally failed. The roof appeared deserted. But then Athos heard a dull, repetitive thudding from the other side of the enclosed stairwell. He ventured around it and was totally unsurprised to see Aramis sitting on the edge of the half-wall, feet tapping rhythmically against the brick as he looked out over the city.

Athos wasn’t worried about startling him. Aramis couldn’t be startled unless he was having one of his, now rare, PTSD episodes.

“He woke up and you weren’t there,” Athos stated bluntly. He grimaced, having come across far more accusatory than he’d intended.

Aramis’ feet stopped their swinging and the sniper went absolutely, eerily still.

“I only mean to say that he wondered where you were and was worried.”

He watched Aramis’ head tilted slightly, but he still didn’t turn to face him.

“Knowing Porthos, he knew exactly where I was.”

Athos rolled his eyes, unwilling to admit that it had taken Porthos thirty seconds to figure out what Athos had been unable to unravel over several hours.

“And Porthos is always worried about me. It’s his default setting.” Aramis added lightly.

“You should be down there with him,” Athos pointed out. “What if his condition had worsened?”

Aramis held up an unfamiliar phone.

“I’m getting text updates from the beautiful, wholly unattached Nurse Jacklyn.”

Athos frowned.

“That’s not your phone.”

“It’s one of my burners.”

Athos sighed deeply.

“So you’re using a burner so that we couldn’t find you? You’re hiding from us now?”

“No…” Aramis hedged slowly.

“Aramis…”

“Just you.”

Athos flinched in surprise.

“Is it because I gave the order to fire?”

“But you didn’t, did you? You didn’t give the order,” Aramis countered, turning sideways and bending a leg to rest on the top of the wall he sat on. He glared across the space between them. “’You see the situation, Diablo. You’re behind the gun. Make the call.’” He quoted. “You put that on my shoulders.”

Athos shook his head sharply, taking a step forward with wide eyes.

“No, Aramis, I didn’t mean… I had only hoped that you would step back and see the situation as I did. That you would see there wasn’t another option. You didn’t have a choice.”

Aramis swung around completely, jumping off the wall and striding towards him. He grabbed two handfuls of Athos’ leather jacket and jerked him closer.

“I shot Porthos!” he hissed. “Porthos!”

“You had to,” Athos assured firmly. “There was no choice, Aramis.”

“There is always a choice,” Aramis denied with sharp shake of his head.

“Not this time,” Athos argued. “If you hadn’t made that shot, Porthos would be dead.”

Aramis shook his head and pushed Athos away. He turned his back on him again and looked out over the skyline.

“You didn’t have a choice, Aramis,” Athos repeated firmly. “Porthos knows that too. In fact, I imagine he’s grateful to you.”

“For shooting him?” Aramis scoffed derisively.

“For saving his life,” Athos corrected calmly.

Aramis sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face and then tangling it up into his hair.

“Come and see him,” Athos requested. “If I come back without you, Porthos will just come looking for you himself and he’s in no shape to do that right now.”

Aramis huffed and though Athos couldn’t see his face, he could imagine the sniper rolling his eyes in fond exasperation. They both knew how true Athos’ words were.

Finally, he gave a reluctant nod.

Porthos sat up straighter when Athos came striding into the room. He leaned to look past him and let out a relieved breath when Aramis came reluctantly trailing behind. His brother’s already unruly hair was wind-tousled and he had his hands tucked into the jean jacket he always wore layered over a gray hooded sweatshirt. He was watching Porthos warily, as if worried about how he would be received.

Porthos gave him a warm smile of greeting.

“Nice of you to turn up,” he teased carefully.

Aramis watched him from the doorway for another moment before a slight grin cracked his stern expression and he drifted into the room. Athos and d’Artagnan quietly slid out to give them a moment alone.

“You know me, I hate all the waiting. I’ve no patience for it.”

“Ah, but you’ve missed out on meeting my night-shift nurse. She’s just your type.”

“Blonde and witty?”

“Breathing,” Porthos quipped with a smirk.

Aramis huffed a chuckle and rolled his eyes, shifting a few steps closer to the bed. His dark gaze was looking Porthos over, clinically assessing the bandages on his shoulder, expertly translating what the monitors were telling him, and doing everything but meeting Porthos’ eyes.

“I’d be dead if not for you,” Porthos stated bluntly.

That did it. Aramis’ eyes snapped to his.

“Thank you for what you did,” he went on.

“For shooting you?” Aramis challenged with an arched brow. Porthos could see the guilt in his eyes, the self-loathing, the doubt that he’d made the right call.

“For saving me,” Porthos countered, “even though it cost you.”

“I’m not the one in the hospital bed,” Aramis pointed out.

“I’m not talking about physical cost,” Porthos replied. “I know what it costs you to squeeze that trigger. I know what it takes from you every time you have to do it. And I know that making that choice last night wasn’t easy.”

Aramis’ eyes moistened and he looked down to hide it.

“No, it wasn’t,” he agreed quietly.

“I forgive you for making it,” Porthos offered carefully.

Aramis eyes rose once again to meet his, looking surprised and hopeful. Whether Porthos believed Aramis needed to be forgiven or not, Aramis believed he did. So Porthos would gladly give him that peace of mind.

“You do?” he asked.

“’Mis, I forgave you before you even pulled the trigger.”

The tension drained out of Aramis’ posture and he finally finished his agonizingly slow journey to Porthos’ bedside. Porthos reached out and snagged his wrist, pulling him forward until he could properly hug him.

“You were protecting me in the only way you could,” he assured firmly, before loosening his hold and allowing Aramis to retreat. The sniper merely sat on the edge of the bed, pretense of personal boundaries gone now that the air was clear.

“I hear you offered up some new code names for the pup,” Porthos commented with a grin.

“Yes, he expressed dissatisfaction with the one he’d been assigned,” Aramis replied with an answering smirk.

Porthos nodded.

“I liked Labradoodle.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

ADSOM Drabbles: Why Don’t I Hate You At All?

(For the Anon who requested an ADSOM drabble! This is pre-canon, but does include some spoilers for the first Shades of Magic book, so if you haven’t read it yet, you may not want to click on the Read More link!)

You know what your problem is?” Normally stoic, Holland Vosijk was feeling exactly enough of the kick from his third goblet of the odd dry Arnesian wine he was drinking to jab his finger at the air in the direction of the man sitting across from him.

“No,” Kell Maresh replied. He was on his fourth glass. Around them, the bar’s patrons pretended with great effort not to be obvious about their unease that they had not one, but two Antari sitting here being infinitely dangerous right in the middle of them. “But I imagine you are about to tell me.”

“Someone should.” Holland’s accent was thicker when he drank like this - normally he prided himself on speaking with a polished, very slight roundness to his consonants, on not flattening his vowels. But drunk, he slipped into the Kosik accent he’d grown up with - rough-and-tumble, the accent of men who took up business in dark buildings and who would have paid a lot of money to have an Antari to steal, enslave, and sell. 

Kell looked at him, and Holland did not notice the high color in the other man’s cheeks - pale redheads, he thought, held their liquor in their faces, and that was never a problem he’d had in his life. Maktahn men started drinking in childhood and never stopped - what else was there to do, as each year was a little colder?

“Please believe me,” Kell said, dryly, “That you don’t really need to worry about that. My own mother tells me what is wrong with me every time I turn around, some days.”

“She’s not your mother,” Holland said, and took another drink.

He expected Kell to snap at him - he had before, when he’d said similar things. Instead, the Maresh princeling - prince in name only, Antari in Arnes couldn’t hold property or real titles or be in line for the throne - only sighed and said, “I know. She could have been, I think, but it was never her intention.”

“That’s not what we get to be, is it?” Holland said, and laughed - dark and bitter, and in his chest the curse did not burn but was a weight, ever-present. A hint of stone to sink him under the Sijlt, under the claws of the white king and queen in the world of bones that waited for his return. 

They had given him the night off, and because he was a glutton for punishment, he’d sought out the person he hated most in the world, after them.

“No,” Kell said evenly, and he looked at Holland oddly with the blue-and-black eyes, and Holland met him head on with his own faded, dry-grass green. “It’s not.” There was a hesitation, and then Kell leaned over, finishing his wine with a flourish. “Tell me, Holland Vosijk, exactly what my problem is.”

Holland brightened, a little, at the opening. “Your problem,” He said, and jabbed his finger again, because that felt like the right thing to do. “Is your world’s problem.”

“My world’s problem,” Kell repeated, deadpan. 

“Right. You’re spoiled. Fat vitun worms. Eat and eat and eat and the world makes more magic to soak you in, and you don’t even notice it. When I am here, I feel…” He trailed off, and looked down into the vibrant dark red of his wine. The mead in Makt, and the sweet wines the Danes drank by the barrel and licked the red off their fingers (when they weren’t mixing it with Holland’s blood for quite the drink, indeed, Holl) - none of them had so much color.

“What do you feel?” Kell looked more curious now, his eyes glittering and bright with the drink, the flush in his face making him seem like a painting, like one of the portraits Holland saw when he walked the marketplace here. Artisans using paints that would cost more than Holland’s life was worth with reckless abandon because they could simply get more. 

“I feel like I wish I could tear the whole thing down and give it to my people. Glass this city to the ground and use all the magic in your kurat river to feed ours. But I’m not sure we deserve it... or that I do.”

Neither of them guessed at the confession until it was already out, and both of them went silent in the sudden realization of what Holland had said.

Kell, so much younger and with a life blessed with almost everything he ever wanted, a life with few hard choices and cursed with almost no choices at all, shifted uncomfortably. “Why… why do you say that?” He asked, with the air of someone who wished the ground would swallow him whole and who could not stop himself from asking the question, anyway.

“Makt is violent. We are a people who bleed each other dry-”

“And try to bleed your visitors, too, you know,” Kell added, and Holland huffed a laugh, nearly soundless. 

“Fair. And my king and queen would have us both kneel at their feet if they could. Power is not enough - they must have more power, and more, and more.”

“They’re in the wrong world if more power is their only ambition,” Kell murmured, but he took the warning, Holland thinks - or maybe he didn’t, and he’s just drunk enough to look solemn because he thinks it makes him seem dignified.

It doesn’t.

Holland only watched him, for a long moment, and then he shifted to dig into a pocket sewn into the underside of his half-cloak, a pocket that sits directly over the curse carved into his chest. He has his commands, and it’s not time for this yet, but…

“Kell.”

“Mmmn?” Kell looked over at him, and Holland was definitely drunk, because he caught himself liking the line of the younger man’s jaw, the hint of freckles on his pale face, a single darker one under one eye. 

If things had only been entirely different, Holland thought, we might have been friends.

A thought he allowed to exist only in whispers, because it was Holland’s own fault that they had never gotten further than antagonistic. He’d been arrogant, before the Danes, when he stood by the side of a man he thought might change everything. And he’d had that arrogance bled out of him, day by day, bone by broken bone, knife in his ribs with his head in Athos Dane’s lap, back whipped to shreds. 

No more arrogance, in Holland Vosijk, at least not when his king and queen were near.

But maybe a little, when he was drunk with Kell Maresh.

“If I gave you this… what would you do?” Holland dug the necklace out of the pocket and laid it on the table between them. Kell blinked at it, clearly not recognizing the carvings on the pendant. He didn’t know what it was, and Holland breathed out slowly, trying to steady himself.

If Kell had known, this might have been over, now.

Instead, Holland thought bitterly, what promised to be the worst days of Kell Maresh’s life hadn’t even begun yet.

“If you… gave it to me?”

“Ja. I mean yes. What would you do, if I came to you, and I offered you this?”

“I’d wonder what poison you soaked the pendant in to kill me,” Kell answered quickly, and quirked a smile.

Holland fought the knowledge that he rather liked the way Kell Maresh looked, when he smiled.

“If you could know it wasn’t poisoned. If all it was, was… a gift.” He had his orders. I have been to your father for business already. I come to you for pleasure. Astrid had coached him until he could say it with a straight face, ordered him to do whatever it took to get that necklace over Rhy Maresh’s head. 

Holland was hoping, deeply hoping, it wouldn’t have to be anything more than handing it over. His body would do as Astrid bid, but his mind recoiled at the thought of bedding the Crown Prince of Arnes only to ensure that the young man’s body became Astrid’s, afterward, instead.

If he had to bed one of them, he’d rather-

“I’d take it,” Kell said decisively, and Holland’s thoughts all scattered.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I’d take it, if you offered it. I mean, I’d be suspicious, but…” Kell hesitated, then held up his hand. When the barmaid stopped by, he asked merely for two glasses of water, and to put the whole tab on the Crown. The woman smiled, nervously, bowed a little bit, and scurried to do as he asked. “I’d still take it. I don’t know if I’d wear it, though. Might just hold it.”

“I don’t think I’d want you to wear it,” Holland said, honestly. Not that it would work on you, but that’s not the point.

“Really? But you just-”

“It’s just a hypothetical,” Holland said quickly, and put the necklace back in his pocket. “And I am entirely too drunk to have this conversation.”

“I’m glad you did,” Kell said, and maybe that was his own confession, because his face reddened further and he looked away as the water was set down before them.

Holland downed his glass and pushed himself to his feet, feeling a sudden rush of alcohol, the world shifting uneasily around him. “I must away, Kell Maresh.”

“What? Already?” Kell tilted his head, looking up at him, and Holland could have sworn he looked sad. “You never talk to me like this.”

Holland swallowed, looking at his face, at the blue eye and the black. “We’ll talk more,” He said, slowly, “In the future.”

When you belong to my queen, when we both cut ourselves open for them, when she rules Arnes with her brother and you rule nothing, not even your own veins. When you suffer alongside me - and Kell Maresh, may you never suffer as beautifully as I do.

Prince Rhy Maresh’s birthday was nearly here, and Holland was going to destroy Kell Maresh’s world. He’d felt he owed the man a nice conversation, first.

The next conversation would be… harder.

He bowed his head, only slightly, to the younger man, who looked a little wistfully back up at him. “You’ll come back soon enough, Holland?” Kell asked, and there was a second question under the first, a vulnerability. 

Holland only looked at him calmly, a man life had emptied out of every ounce of hope for anything like the real answer Kell wanted. Will you come back to see me, like this? When we talk like men and not like enemies?

“I’ll come back,” Holland said carefully. “For your brother’s birthday.”

He turned and left, Kell sitting and drinking the water in sips, and felt the prince’s eyes on his back until the door closed behind him.

I am going to ruin you, you spoiled selfish soft thing. I have hated you as long as I’ve understood you. I have spent seven years in degradation and filth while you drown in your luxuries and whine about how your parents don’t love you enough.

I am wrecked - I am a tombstone in a magic-less London, an angel carved of rock with empty eyes. I am hollowed-out with their knives and their laughter and their curse. I am nothing and no one but the magic that flows in my veins. I am nothing but a well of power they draw from.

I am not a man, only an Antari, and you have had the absolute luck to get to be both, haven’t you?

hate everything you have been raised to be. I loathe your world, and its color and life at the expense of mine. I will hand your brother his doom and do it with a smile on my face.

Because they told me to smile.

I hate you.

So why don’t I hate you at all?

[veneataur]

Fandom: BBC’s The Musketeers

Day 11 of 24

Title: A Good Man

A/N: This is just a quick warning that there is a brief reference to one of Aramis’ suicide attempts in here.

A couple hours after Athos brings Aramis back from his latest counseling session, Porthos finds him down by the lake, about a half mile from home. He’s the only one down there, which isn’t surprising given the chill that’s coming off the lake. Still, he finds Aramis sitting in the sand, legs drawn up and bent at the knees, staring out towards the horizon.

“Hey, Aramis,” he says, sitting down next to the man.

Aramis nods but doesn’t respond.

“We’ve been looking for you.”

“Sorry,” Aramis says quietly.

“You need to at least write a note when you go somewhere.” Porthos tries to keep his voice even.

“Sorry.” It’s a more broken this time.

“It’s okay, we’re just worried about where you went. It’s not the best weather to be outside, especially down here.” There is rain threatening in the distance and ahead of it a cool wind. The morning started out warm in the seventies and it’s already down into the fifties and forecast to go lower before the sun sets.

“It’s thinking weather,” Aramis says after a pause.

“Rain and cold are thinking weather?” Porthos looks at Aramis, who’s still not looked away from the lake. He’s better rested and healthier than he has been, but there’s still some ways to go. The worst is the look of despair that is ever-present on his face. Porthos has seen it on Athos in the past and he doesn’t like it on either man.

It’s been a month since Aramis’ last suicide attempt, the one where Athos found him and had a breakdown of his own not long after that they nearly missed. In that time, they’ve finally found a psychiatrist, Frank Lemay, who Aramis likes. The month has been filled with improvement but also a lot of angst and anxiety. He’s out of the critical suicide watch period, but Porthos still feels like they’re living on the edge.

“You want to talk about it,” Porthos asks when Aramis is silent for several moments. Lemay has spoken to all of them, Athos, Treville, Sarah, and him, about techniques and tips for helping Aramis through his rough patches when he can’t get out of them himself. As much as Porthos is accustomed to working with Athos when he hit’s a low period, Aramis is a different story and Porthos is glad to have more of a toolkit of what to do. The easiest, and one the comes naturally to him is talking.

Aramis shakes his head lightly.

“You want to talk to Athos about it? He could be down here in a few minutes.” Porthos knows that Aramis often talks to Athos about his illnesses because he understands at a level that helps Aramis more. Porthos is often left to standard clichés that do little but annoy Aramis.

“No,” Aramis says with a small smile.

They sit in silence for a while longs, Porthos forcing himself to not speak. He knows that his tendency to speak has, in the past, unsettled Aramis and made him back away.

“Did something happen at your session,” Porthos asks, shivering as a cool breeze rakes over them. He sees Aramis hug his legs tighter, curling in against the wind. “Do you mind?” Porthos holds an arm out, indicating that he wants to pull Aramis closer to him.

Aramis shrugs his shoulders, but leans in towards Porthos, feeling the warmth of the larger man against his body. It’s a comforting feeling and he hadn’t realized how cold he was.

“Lemay says I need to start to accept the new me,” Aramis says quietly. “He says that’s holding me back right now.”

“And what do you think about that?”

Aramis pauses. “I liked the old me just as well. I didn’t think there was anything seriously wrong with the old me. I never did anything illegal or wrong. I never hurt anyone except those kids and my teammates.”

“You didn’t hurt them,” Porthos says firmly, but calmly.

Aramis doesn’t say anything to that, which in itself is progress.

“I just want to be who I was, not who I am now.” Aramis’ leans more into Porthos, his voice low and sad.

They lapse into silence again.

“Would you do any of those things now,” Porthos asks.

“What things?” Aramis shifts to look up at Porthos.

“Illegal things. Hurting people?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then that’s something that’s still the same. You don’t want to do criminal things. You don’t want to hurt others.” Porthos keeps his voice calm and steady.

“It’s a bit more than that, Porthos.”

“I know, but there are some things that haven’t changed.”

“Always looking on the positive side, aren’t you,” Aramis says with a slight smile.

“Not always, but I try.” Porthos pulls Aramis in a little closer and curls in some on himself when another cold wind burst hits. They should be heading home, but Porthos is loathed to disturb Aramis’ relative peace as well as his thoughts.

“I’m tired of all of this, Porthos,” Aramis says after a few moments. “I hate that the slightest thing triggers me to a flashback or panic attack. I hate feeling so depressed and hurting so much that being dead sounds a lot better. I don’t want to hurt anymore, Porthos.” Aramis takes a breath and Porthos can hear the wetness. “I don’t like this new me.” Porthos takes hold of Aramis with both arms as he leans into him more. Aramis is more in his lap now with his head against Porthos’ chest. Porthos can feel his shirt getting wet as Aramis quietly cries.

He waits, thinks. He’s had little experience with things such as these. Being held captive by criminals he and Athos were investigating a few years ago had changed him some, left him with the occasional flashback and nightmare, but he didn’t find himself a wholly different person after.

“I…,” Porthos hesitates as he contemplates what to say. What could he say to ease his friend’s suffering? “I don’t know what to say, Aramis. I could say you’re getting better. That you won’t always feel this way. But what good will that do you now? You’ve heard it all half a million times and most of them from me.”

Aramis remains quiet.

“Personally, I don’t see anything not to like about the new you. Now, this isn’t taking into account your illnesses because they aren’t you. You’re not defined by them. I can say, I see a young man who is hard-working, kind, considerate, well-liked, and compassionate. You think far less of yourself than you should and you doubt yourself far more than you need. You’re the kind of person I’d like to count as a brother and I don’t welcome just anyone into my family. Ask Athos.” Porthos pauses, looking out at the lake.

“You’re a good man, Aramis, and I’ll tell it to you every day, twice a day until you believe it with your heart,” Porthos says, straining to hold back his own tears.

“Both of us will, Aramis,” Athos says, kneeling in front of Porthos. Aramis and Porthos jump at the sudden noise. “We’ll be here to always remind you that you’re a good man and worthy until you can do it yourself and even then we’ll remind you because there will be times when you need to hear it again.” Athos runs a hand through Aramis’ hair, ruffling it in a way he knows soothes him.

After a long moment, Aramis frees himself from Porthos’ grasp and leans back on his legs. He shivers in the cold. “Why?”

“Why what,” Porthos asks. He takes the jacket Athos hands him, putting it on and watches as Athos wraps a blanket around Aramis. It’s his favorite one and Porthos knows that Athos realized Aramis would be more likely to wrap up in that than put a jacket on.

“You two barely know me. It hasn’t even been a year since we met. Why are you willing to make these promises? How can you put such trust and faith in me that I’ll remain a good enough person to be worthy of your friendship?”

“Well, for starters,” Porthos beings, “we don’t have the trust issues that you justifiably do. It’s easier for us. And it helps that you have a set of good character references in Sarah and Treville.”

Aramis chuckles lightly at that, pulling the blanket in tighter.

“We’ve also seen you at your worst, ‘Mis and it’s hard to remain a good, decent person when you’re at your worst,” Athos says.

“And some of it is a leap of faith. Making friends comes down to a leap of faith. Sometimes it’s worth it and other times you get burned. But I don’t think this is one of those times. It’s been ten months and I think it’s completely worth it,” Porthos says.

“Me too,” Athos adds. “Even with everything that you’re going through and the help you’re needing now, it’s worth it.”

“I want to believe it. All of it. That I can fully trust you two. That I’m a good man. That I should like the new me.” Aramis swallows heavily, looking down. “I really do. But it all just seems impossible.”

“Time, ‘Mis. Give it time. Nothing that is worth it happens in an instant. Remember what Sarah tells you, not today, not tomorrow, not next week, but someday and with each day that someday is getting closer.”

Aramis nods. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all we ask,” Porthos says.

“And to talk to us if you need or want,” Athos adds.

“Yes, always that.”

“Okay.” Aramis gives a slight smile.

“You feeling any better,” Porthos asks after a moment’s pause.

Aramis shrugs his shoulders. “Some.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes, now how about we go get in the car and head home before we all get wet,” Athos says.

Aramis nods and slowly rises. Athos and Porthos, who get to their feet quickly, stay close in case he’s unsteady.

Halfway up the ramp, Aramis speaks quietly. “Could you make your hot chocolate when we get back, Porthos.”

“Sure can,” Porthos agrees with an easy smile. “Why don’t we order in and spend the rest of this cold evening in the den watching movies?”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Athos says.

“As long as there’s hot chocolate and blankets, I’m good,” Aramis says, a shiver going through his thin frame.

“We’ll get down all the blankets you want. I might even have an electric one somewhere.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Aramis gives Athos a slightly annoyed look, a quirk of his lips showing that he’s not angry.

“I forgot about it until now. I don’t even know where it is, but we’ll go looking for it.”

“You and Athos can go looking for it while I get the hot chocolate going,” Porthos says, with a tone of finality that ends the mild bickering. As they get into the car, he sees that the heaviness that has been weighing Aramis down is lessened some and he thinks that they might have made some progress. Then he shivers, despite the heat pouring from the car and the jacket, and thinks that next time Aramis needs to pick a place indoors to have his thinking time. It’s going to take a lot of hot chocolate to warm them up and he might just fight Aramis for that electric blanket.

[hellokafkiana]

Stupid (or “It Won’t Happen Again” p9)

Go to her Be happy, if you’re capable of that

Sylvie’s words echoed back to his mind as he was moving through the street of Paris. He could barely breathe for thinking of seeing his wife again, I can see her again, he thought, I can be with her again, we can start over. We will start over. She loves me; she always did, we will be happy, I can buy a house and…

Then he enthusiasm stopped. He looked for Anne at her place, at the palace, at the garrison, at the tavern. And he did not find her. Then her words, her pleas, came back to his mind.

You have to help me to get out of her; you have to believe me. How can you do this? I love you!

And then her pleading eyes, her hurt expression the day she had said that neither of them would have been at peace until…

Until we are both dead

And then when she had begged him to leave together, to start again, she had seemed so… young, naive, fragile.

We have no reason in the World left to trust each other, and yet who can we trust? Who else knows us like we know each other?

If you come… He could still hear her feeble voice. Poor Anne, so full of fear and yet at the same time so… excited. And desperate.

If you come… we’ll go to Le Harve and sail for England together, if not I’ll leave alone, and you’ll never see me again.

I should have asked you to stay, he thought, I should have begged you to… But I’ve never been good at this. I’ve never… But Porthos is, his own voice echoed back to him. Go to Porthos, she might be there. And before he knew it he was knocking hard at his friends' door. Then finally someone opened, and it was exactly who he was hoping for.

“Anne.” “What are you doing here?” the woman asked, taking a step back, tremor in her voice, fear in her eyes “What…” “Anne, finally I found you” he exalted with relief “I was afraid that you…” “I never thought you would have come back,” she said coldly “Is there anything more you want from me?” “Sylvie has returned, she has forgiven me. She’s willing to start over.” “Good for you” she replied harshly “Have a nice life and leave me alone.” “I left her” “Ok…” she started hesitantly, so shocked by that news that she could barely think “It’s none of my business.” “But it is” he insisted taking a step closer, “She told me what you did.” “You’re welcome.” “I told her I chose you.” “What?” “Because I love you” he finished looking into her pupils “I love you, Anne.” “You… idiot” she commented, a new tremor in her voice “I…” “And you love me, and we have wasted so much time, you and I” “What’s wrong Athos?” she said annoyed “You miss the good free sex? There is no need for a trite romantic declaration for that, after all, I just want orgasms from you, don’t I?” “No, that’s not… I was…” and at that moment he lowered his eyes. He had really said and done so much, so…“You know I didn’t mean it” he whispered, “You must know it.” “Didn’t you? Because as far as I recall, I just wanted you for how good you were at fucking me.” “Anne stop,” he replied trying to calm her, genuinely sorry for everything that he had put her through, so much that she even believed he had never loved her. Oh God, he thought, what have I done? What… “It’s not just sex; it had never been just sex between us.” “As you wish,” she said in return, closing the door but Athos managed to put his foot in between “Why don’t you understand?” he cried “Yes, you were beautiful, but it was not the reason I married you.” “Was it not?” “No!” he screamed, “And it was not the reason we kissed in the Cardinal's secret cabinet all those years ago, it was not the reason all this started again.” “What are you doing?” “I’m fighting for you, for us” he whispered, reaching for her hands “Us.” “You’re…” she said disgusted, pushing him away “It was a mistake for you, you said that all the time, it was always a matter of “It won’t happen again” and so on. The last time you almost raped me! And now you’re here and…” “I don’t know what…” he began unsure, feeling suddenly ashamed “It was an awful behaviour, inexcusable.” he took a big breath after that “I’m sorry.” “Fine…” she replied harshly “But I don’t want you around.” “Anne…” “Are you drunk?” “No” he answered immediately, and after some seconds of hesitation her found the strength to confront her “I’m not drunk, but maybe you were when you said those things to Sylvie.” “I…” “You?” “I was doing you a favour.” “Why?” “Because that’s what you wanted,” Anne said with tears in her eyes, careful not to let them falling “To be with her and your child.” “Anne…” “And it was true” the woman insisted “Everything I said was real. We are dysfunctional; we shouldn’t be together, we…” “I don’t care,” he said interrupting her “And neither do you,” he said taking a step closer, reaching for her neck, pulling it closer, aiming for her chin, “You’re wrong, Athos” she replied shaking her head and taking a step back “I don’t want this.” “You’re lying.” “I’m not,” she said almost exasperated “I quit my job, and I’m leaving Paris.” “No.” “Yes, and you have to let me go” she took a big breath before continuing “You made your choice, now let me make mine.” Athos stood there paralysed for what it seemed an eternity, frozen in time, terrified “I will wait then” he said at last “Until you’re ready.” “No, you won't.” “I love you, Anne, and I will wait” he concluded leaving that door and leaving her. He would have waited, as long as she needed, he would have waited forever.

Days and months went by, and Athos kept working, even though his thoughts were always elsewhere.

“Athos? Are you even listening?” the Captain called, asking for his attention but his response consisted in dragging Porthos away from the group. He needed answers, and he would have had them at any cost. “Where is she?” he asked harsh “I need… Tell me at least if she’s okay.” “Who?” “You know who” he answered keeping his gaze on his friend “She quitted her job and disappeared but I know, you know where she is, or your wife knows.” “She doesn’t want to be found.” “I need to see her” he begged “Please…” “I can’t tell you. I promised her that” “I need to… please, Porthos, just…” “She deserves to be left alone, Athos. You’ve hurt her, and she deserves to…” “No. Please” he insisted again “I need to get in touch with her, please. I love her” “I’m sorry.” “I left Sylvie, did you know that?” Athos said in frustration “Did you?” “Yes, I mean…” he hesitated some seconds “I heard some rumours. Everyone did.” “Porthos I…, you have to understand I made up my mind now, I want her. And only her.” “You can’t go to her. She doesn’t want, and I can’t allow it” his friend replied, and after that, he stayed silent for a while, eager to help his friend and yet loyal to his other friend “But you can write letters.” “Letters?” “I will deliver them” Porthos assured, “I can do that.” “I… I can’t write.” “Do you love her?” Porthos said staring at him, and when Athos nodded silently, he continued “Then try. For her” “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” Athos asked doubtfully after a long pause, and his friend smiled at him before answering “There is only one way to find out. Write to her.”

And he did. Every day he sat and wrote, and he told her everything, everything that could reach his mind. He apologised, he told her he loved her, he asked for forgiveness, he begged her. And then he got angry and then asked sorry again. She never replied.

Maybe she doesn’t care, Athos thought after some months, maybe she really has moved on.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

In that same moment Anne was greeting Porthos and his always welcomed supply of food, but after a moment of awkwardness, she asked hesitantly “And… Is there a new letter?” and the Musketeer gave that to her, without a word said. In a moment she had turned, eager to read… to devour that letter.

Dear wife,

I want to respect your wishes; you know that by now, but I can’t stay apart. I am not good with words, you know that too, but I want to try. I told you I didn’t marry you solely for your beauty, but I know you never believed that. Now I’ll try to explain myself. You think the first time I saw you were that day in the Church when the young Anne de Breuil was praying silently, hoping to be noticed by the young Comte de la Ferè.

It was not so.

I had already noticed you before that, some days before. You might not remind that, but there was Solstice's celebration back then. I hated them, I always hated every kind of social activity, and I was bored to death, tired. I wanted to leave, and then I saw you. You were dancing, and there was a light in your eyes if you only could see how your face lights up when you’re happy. That’s when I fell in love with you. I know, now you think that this is a pathetic excuse, a cheesy one, but it is the truth. You were so bright, I couldn’t stop smiling, and your joy captured me. I would have followed you everywhere.

But I tried to stay apart, I was already promised to another, and I had given Catherine my word, not that it mattered when I saw you again. I couldn’t leave you, leave your side again.

You said I leave you all the time, what you never understood is that a part of me died every time I did that. You’re a part of me, you always have been, and when I killed you, I killed myself too, when I broke your heart, I broke mine too. You might disbelieve it if you choose, but despite everything, we, what we had was the best thing that has ever happened to me.

You were right; you always have been, we have no reason in the World left to trust each other, and yet I want you to give us a chance. I want you to trust me again, to want me again, and I will do anything to achieve that. I know you don’t believe me, I know you hate me, but I hope you’ll remember that a part of you is still in love with me.

I miss you.

Forever yours, faithfully

                                 Your loving and regretful husband, Oliver d’Athos de la Ferè

“Are you ok?” Porthos asked, and Anne finally became aware of the tears that were falling on her cheek “I love him, I’ve always loved him.” “I know.” “And I hate him.” “I know that too.” “What do I have to do?” the woman asked overwhelmed “What should I…” she continued looking at her womb “Porthos, I…” “I think you know it” his friend replied “Deep down you know it.” “He executed me, broke my heart, left me and…” he cried “Why should I ever forgive him?” “He has forgiven you.”

After that Anne took some step back, finding hard to breathe “I was never happy without him. What does it say about me?” “Go to him, Anne” he encouraged her “Talk to him. Or burn his letters and start over, but choose” he took a big breath before finishing “Don’t stay here forever crying over the memory of your lost relationship”, and Anne nodded in return.

He was right. And she wanted Athos. She had always wanted Athos; she would have always wanted Athos.

Before she knew it, she had left that house, which life, running to him, her heart racing more than she wanted to admit, her breath short.

And then she saw him. And Sylvie. And Tommy. They were smiling, laughing together, their child walking between them.

Only one thought crossing Anne’s mind.

How could I have been so stupid