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qqueenofhades · 3 years ago

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The Green Knight and Medieval Metatextuality: An Essay

Right, so. Finally watched it last night, and I’ve been thinking about it literally ever since, except for the part where I was asleep. As I said to fellow medievalist and admirer of Dev Patel @oldshrewsburyian, it’s possibly the most fascinating piece of medieval-inspired media that I’ve seen in ages, and how refreshing to have something in this genre that actually rewards critical thought and deep analysis, rather than me just fulminating fruitlessly about how popular media thinks that slapping blood, filth, and misogyny onto some swords and castles is “historically accurate.” I read a review of TGK somewhere that described it as the anti-Game of Thrones, and I’m inclined to think that’s accurate. I didn’t agree with all of the film’s tonal, thematic, or interpretative choices, but I found them consistently stylish, compelling, and subversive in ways both small and large, and I’m gonna have to write about it or I’ll go crazy. So. Brace yourselves.

(Note: My PhD is in medieval history, not medieval literature, and I haven’t worked on SGGK specifically, but I am familiar with it, its general cultural context, and the historical influences, images, and debates that both the poem and the film referenced and drew upon, so that’s where this meta is coming from.)

First, obviously, while the film is not a straight-up text-to-screen version of the poem (though it is by and large relatively faithful), it is a multi-layered meta-text that comments on the original Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, the archetypes of chivalric literature as a whole, modern expectations for medieval films, the hero’s journey, the requirements of being an “honorable knight,” and the nature of death, fate, magic, and religion, just to name a few. Given that the Arthurian legendarium, otherwise known as the Matter of Britain, was written and rewritten over several centuries by countless authors, drawing on and changing and hybridizing interpretations that sometimes challenged or outright contradicted earlier versions, it makes sense for the film to chart its own path and make its own adaptational decisions as part of this multivalent, multivocal literary canon. Sir Gawain himself is a canonically and textually inconsistent figure; in the movie, the characters merrily pronounce his name in several different ways, most notably as Sean Harris/King Arthur’s somewhat inexplicable “Garr-win.” He might be a man without a consistent identity, but that’s pointed out within the film itself. What has he done to define himself, aside from being the king’s nephew? Is his quixotic quest for the Green Knight actually going to resolve the question of his identity and his honor – and if so, is it even going to matter, given that successful completion of the “game” seemingly equates with death?

Likewise, as the anti-Game of Thrones, the film is deliberately and sometimes maddeningly non-commercial. For an adaptation coming from a studio known primarily for horror, it almost completely eschews the cliché that gory bloodshed equals authentic medievalism; the only graphic scene is the Green Knight’s original beheading. The violence is only hinted at, subtextual, suspenseful; it is kept out of sight, around the corner, never entirely played out or resolved. In other words, if anyone came in thinking that they were going to watch Dev Patel luridly swashbuckle his way through some CGI monsters like bad Beowulf adaptations of yore, they were swiftly disappointed. In fact, he seems to spend most of his time being wet, sad, and failing to meet the moment at hand (with a few important exceptions).

The film unhurriedly evokes a medieval setting that is both surreal and defiantly non-historical. We travel (in roughly chronological order) from Anglo-Saxon huts to Romanesque halls to high-Gothic cathedrals to Tudor villages and half-timbered houses, culminating in the eerie neo-Renaissance splendor of the Lord and Lady’s hall, before returning to the ancient trees of the Green Chapel and its immortal occupant: everything that has come before has now returned to dust. We have been removed even from imagined time and place and into a moment where it ceases to function altogether. We move forward, backward, and sideways, as Gawain experiences past, present, and future in unison. He is dislocated from his own sense of himself, just as we, the viewers, are dislocated from our sense of what is the “true” reality or filmic narrative; what we think is real turns out not to be the case at all. If, of course, such a thing even exists at all.

This visual evocation of the entire medieval era also creates a setting that, unlike GOT, takes pride in rejecting absolutely all political context or Machiavellian maneuvering. The film acknowledges its own cultural ubiquity and the question of whether we really need yet another King Arthur adaptation: none of the characters aside from Gawain himself are credited by name. We all know it’s Arthur, but he’s listed only as “king.” We know the spooky druid-like old man with the white beard is Merlin, but it’s never required to spell it out. The film gestures at our pre-existing understanding; it relies on us to fill in the gaps, cuing us to collaboratively produce the story with it, positioning us as listeners as if we were gathered to hear the original poem. Just like fanfiction, it knows that it doesn’t need to waste time introducing every single character or filling in ultimately unnecessary background knowledge, when the audience can be relied upon to bring their own.

As for that, the film explicitly frames itself as a “filmed adaptation of the chivalric romance” in its opening credits, and continues to play with textual referents and cues throughout: telling us where we are, what’s happening, or what’s coming next, rather like the rubrics or headings within a medieval manuscript. As noted, its historical/architectural references span the entire medieval European world, as does its costume design. I was particularly struck by the fact that Arthur and Guinevere’s crowns resemble those from illuminated monastic manuscripts or Eastern Orthodox iconography: they are both crown and halo, they confer an air of both secular kingship and religious sanctity. The question in the film’s imagined epilogue thus becomes one familiar to Shakespeare’s Henry V: heavy is the head that wears the crown. Does Gawain want to earn his uncle’s crown, take over his place as king, bear the fate of Camelot, become a great ruler, a husband and father in ways that even Arthur never did, only to see it all brought to dust by his cowardice, his reliance on unscrupulous sorcery, and his unfulfilled promise to the Green Knight? Is it better to have that entire life and then lose it, or to make the right choice now, even if it means death?

Likewise, Arthur’s kingly mantle is Byzantine in inspiration, as is the icon of the Virgin Mary-as-Theotokos painted on Gawain’s shield (which we see broken apart during the attack by the scavengers). The film only glances at its religious themes rather than harping on them explicitly; we do have the cliché scene of the male churchmen praying for Gawain’s safety, opposite Gawain’s mother and her female attendants working witchcraft to protect him. (When oh when will I get my film that treats medieval magic and medieval religion as the complementary and co-existing epistemological systems that they were, rather than portraying them as diametrically binary and disparagingly gendered opposites?) But despite the interim setbacks borne from the failure of Christian icons, the overall resolution of the film could serve as the culmination of a medieval Christian morality tale: Gawain can buy himself a great future in the short term if he relies on the protection of the enchanted green belt to avoid the Green Knight’s killing stroke, but then he will have to watch it all crumble until he is sitting alone in his own hall, his children dead and his kingdom destroyed, as a headless corpse who only now has been brave enough to accept his proper fate. By removing the belt from his person in the film’s Inception-like final scene, he relinquishes the taint of black magic and regains his religious honor, even at the likely cost of death. That, the medieval Christian morality tale would agree, is the correct course of action.

Gawain’s encounter with St. Winifred likewise presents a more subtle vision of medieval Christianity. Winifred was an eighth-century Welsh saint known for being beheaded, after which (by the power of another saint) her head was miraculously restored to her body and she went on to live a long and holy life. It doesn’t quite work that way in TGK. (St Winifred’s Well is mentioned in the original SGGK, but as far as I recall, Gawain doesn’t meet the saint in person.) In the film, Gawain encounters Winifred’s lifelike apparition, who begs him to dive into the mere and retrieve her head (despite appearances, she warns him, it is not attached to her body). This fits into the pattern of medieval ghost stories, where the dead often return to entreat the living to help them finish their business; they must be heeded, but when they are encountered in places they shouldn’t be, they must be put back into their proper physical space and reminded of their real fate. Gawain doesn’t follow William of Newburgh’s practical recommendation to just fetch some brawny young men with shovels to beat the wandering corpse back into its grave. Instead, in one of his few moments of unqualified heroism, he dives into the dark water and retrieves Winifred’s skull from the bottom of the lake. Then when he returns to the house, he finds the rest of her skeleton lying in the bed where he was earlier sleeping, and carefully reunites the skull with its body, finally allowing it to rest in peace.

However, Gawain’s involvement with Winifred doesn’t end there. The fox that he sees on the bank after emerging with her skull, who then accompanies him for the rest of the film, is strongly implied to be her spirit, or at least a companion that she has sent for him. Gawain has handled a saint’s holy bones; her relics, which were well known to grant protection in the medieval world. He has done the saint a service, and in return, she extends her favor to him. At the end of the film, the fox finally speaks in a human voice, warning him not to proceed to the fateful final encounter with the Green Knight; it will mean his death. The symbolism of having a beheaded saint serve as Gawain’s guide and protector is obvious, since it is the fate that may or may not lie in store for him. As I said, the ending is Inception-like in that it steadfastly refuses to tell you if the hero is alive (or will live) or dead (or will die). In the original SGGK, of course, the Green Knight and the Lord turn out to be the same person, Gawain survives, it was all just a test of chivalric will and honor, and a trap put together by Morgan Le Fay in an attempt to frighten Guinevere. It’s essentially able to be laughed off: a game, an adventure, not real. TGK takes this paradigm and flips it (to speak…) on its head.

Gawain’s rescue of Winifred’s head also rewards him in more immediate terms: his/the Green Knight’s axe, stolen by the scavengers, is miraculously restored to him in her cottage, immediately and concretely demonstrating the virtue of his actions. This is one of the points where the film most stubbornly resists modern storytelling conventions: it simply refuses to add in any kind of “rational” or “empirical” explanation of how else it got there, aside from the grace and intercession of the saint. This is indeed how it works in medieval hagiography: things simply reappear, are returned, reattached, repaired, made whole again, and Gawain’s lost weapon is thus restored, symbolizing that he has passed the test and is worthy to continue with the quest. The film’s narrative is not modernizing its underlying medieval logic here, and it doesn’t particularly care if a modern audience finds it “convincing” or not. As noted, the film never makes any attempt to temporalize or localize itself; it exists in a determinedly surrealist and ahistorical landscape, where naked female giants who look suspiciously like Tilda Swinton roam across the wild with no necessary explanation. While this might be frustrating for some people, I actually found it a huge relief that a clearly fantastic and fictional literary adaptation was not acting like it was qualified to teach “real history” to its audience. Nobody would come out of TGK thinking that they had seen the “actual” medieval world, and since we have enough of a problem with that sort of thing thanks to GOT, I for one welcome the creation of a medieval imaginative space that embraces its eccentric and unrealistic elements, rather than trying to fit them into the Real Life box.

This plays into the fact that the film, like a reused medieval manuscript containing more than one text, is a palimpsest: for one, it audaciously rewrites the entire Arthurian canon in the wordless vision of Gawain’s life after escaping the Green Knight (I could write another meta on that dream-epilogue alone). It moves fluidly through time and creates alternate universes in at least two major points: one, the scene where Gawain is tied up and abandoned by the scavengers and that long circling shot reveals his skeletal corpse rotting on the sward, only to return to our original universe as Gawain decides that he doesn’t want that fate, and two, Gawain as King. In this alternate ending, Arthur doesn’t die in battle with Mordred, but peaceably in bed, having anointed his worthy nephew as his heir. Gawain becomes king, has children, gets married, governs Camelot, becomes a ruler surpassing even Arthur, but then watches his son get killed in battle, his subjects turn on him, and his family vanish into the dust of his broken hall before he himself, in despair, pulls the enchanted scarf out of his clothing and succumbs to his fate.

In this version, Gawain takes on the responsibility for the fall of Camelot, not Arthur. This is the hero’s burden, but he’s obtained it dishonorably, by cheating. It is a vivid but mimetic future which Gawain (to all appearances) ultimately rejects, returning the film to the realm of traditional Arthurian canon – but not quite. After all, if Gawain does get beheaded after that final fade to black, it would represent a significant alteration from the poem and the character’s usual arc. Are we back in traditional canon or aren’t we? Did Gawain reject that future or didn’t he? Do all these alterities still exist within the visual medium of the meta-text, and have any of them been definitely foreclosed?

Furthermore, the film interrogates itself and its own tropes in explicit and overt ways. In Gawain’s conversation with the Lord, the Lord poses the question that many members of the audience might have: is Gawain going to carry out this potentially pointless and suicidal quest and then be an honorable hero, just like that? What is he actually getting by staggering through assorted Irish bogs and seeming to reject, rather than embrace, the paradigms of a proper quest and that of an honorable knight? He lies about being a knight to the scavengers, clearly out of fear, and ends up cravenly bound and robbed rather than fighting back. He denies knowing anything about love to the Lady (played by Alicia Vikander, who also plays his lover at the start of the film with a decidedly ropey Yorkshire accent, sorry to say). He seems to shrink from the responsibility thrust on him, rather than rise to meet it (his only honorable act, retrieving Winifred’s head, is discussed above) and yet here he still is, plugging away. Why is he doing this? What does he really stand to gain, other than accepting a choice and its consequences (somewhat?) The film raises these questions, but it has no plans to answer them. It’s going to leave you to think about them for yourself, and it isn’t going to spoon-feed you any ultimate moral or neat resolution. In this interchange, it’s easy to see both the echoes of a formal dialogue between two speakers (a favored medieval didactic tactic) and the broader purpose of chivalric literature: to interrogate what it actually means to be a knight, how personal honor is generated, acquired, and increased, and whether engaging in these pointless and bloody “war games” is actually any kind of real path to lasting glory.

The film’s treatment of race, gender, and queerness obviously also merits comment. By casting Dev Patel, an Indian-born actor, as an Arthurian hero, the film is… actually being quite accurate to the original legends, doubtless much to the disappointment of assorted internet racists. The thirteenth-century Arthurian romance Parzival (Percival) by the German poet Wolfram von Eschenbach notably features the character of Percival’s mixed-race half-brother, Feirefiz, son of their father by his first marriage to a Muslim princess. Feirefiz is just as heroic as Percival (Gawaine, for the record, also plays a major role in the story) and assists in the quest for the Holy Grail, though it takes his conversion to Christianity for him to properly behold it.

By introducing Patel (and Sarita Chowdhury as Morgause) to the visual representation of Arthuriana, the film quietly does away with the “white Middle Ages” cliché that I have complained about ad nauseam; we see background Asian and black members of Camelot, who just exist there without having to conjure up some complicated rationale to explain their presence. The Lady also uses a camera obscura to make Gawain’s portrait. Contrary to those who might howl about anachronism, this technique was known in China as early as the fourth century BCE and the tenth/eleventh century Islamic scholar Ibn al-Haytham was probably the best-known medieval authority to write on it extensively; Latin translations of his work inspired European scientists from Roger Bacon to Leonardo da Vinci. Aside from the symbolism of an upside-down Gawain (and when he sees the portrait again during the ‘fall of Camelot’, it is right-side-up, representing that Gawain himself is in an upside-down world), this presents a subtle challenge to the prevailing Eurocentric imagination of the medieval world, and draws on other global influences.

As for gender, we have briefly touched on it above; in the original SGGK, Gawain’s entire journey is revealed to be just a cruel trick of Morgan Le Fay, simply trying to destabilize Arthur’s court and upset his queen. (Morgan is the old blindfolded woman who appears in the Lord and Lady’s castle and briefly approaches Gawain, but her identity is never explicitly spelled out.) This is, obviously, an implicitly misogynistic setup: an evil woman plays a trick on honorable men for the purpose of upsetting another woman, the honorable men overcome it, the hero survives, and everyone presumably lives happily ever after (at least until Mordred arrives).

Instead, by plunging the outcome into doubt and the hero into a much darker and more fallible moral universe, TGK shifts the blame for Gawain’s adventure and ultimate fate from Morgan to Gawain himself. Likewise, Guinevere is not the passive recipient of an evil deception but in a way, the catalyst for the whole thing. She breaks the seal on the Green Knight’s message with a weighty snap; she becomes the oracle who reads it out, she is alarming rather than alarmed, she disrupts the complacency of the court and silently shows up all the other knights who refuse to step forward and answer the Green Knight’s challenge. Gawain is not given the ontological reassurance that it’s just a practical joke and he’s going to be fine (and thanks to the unresolved ending, neither are we). The film instead takes the concept at face value in order to push the envelope and ask the simple question: if a man was going to be actually-for-real beheaded in a year, why would he set out on a suicidal quest? Would you, in Gawain’s place, make the same decision to cast aside the enchanted belt and accept your fate? Has he made his name, will he be remembered well? What is his legacy?

Indeed, if there is any hint of feminine connivance and manipulation, it arrives in the form of the implication that Gawain’s mother has deliberately summoned the Green Knight to test her son, prove his worth, and position him as his childless uncle’s heir; she gives him the protective belt to make sure he won’t actually die, and her intention all along was for the future shown in the epilogue to truly play out (minus the collapse of Camelot). Only Gawain loses the belt thanks to his cowardice in the encounter with the scavengers, regains it in a somewhat underhanded and morally questionable way when the Lady is attempting to seduce him, and by ultimately rejecting it altogether and submitting to his uncertain fate, totally mucks up his mother’s painstaking dynastic plans for his future. In this reading, Gawain could be king, and his mother’s efforts are meant to achieve that goal, rather than thwart it. He is thus required to shoulder his own responsibility for this outcome, rather than conveniently pawning it off on an “evil woman,” and by extension, the film asks the question: What would the world be like if men, especially those who make war on others as a way of life, were actually forced to face the consequences of their reckless and violent actions? Is it actually a “game” in any sense of the word, especially when chivalric literature is constantly preoccupied with the question of how much glorious violence is too much glorious violence? If you structure social prestige for the king and the noble male elite entirely around winning battles and existing in a state of perpetual war, when does that begin to backfire and devour the knightly class – and the rest of society – instead?

This leads into the central theme of Gawain’s relationships with the Lord and Lady, and how they’re treated in the film. The poem has been repeatedly studied in terms of its latent (and sometimes… less than latent) queer subtext: when the Lord asks Gawain to pay back to him whatever he should receive from his wife, does he already know what this involves; i.e. a physical and romantic encounter? When the Lady gives kisses to Gawain, which he is then obliged to return to the Lord as a condition of the agreement, is this all part of a dastardly plot to seduce him into a kinky green-themed threesome with a probably-not-human married couple looking to spice up their sex life? Why do we read the Lady’s kisses to Gawain as romantic but Gawain’s kisses to the Lord as filial, fraternal, or the standard “kiss of peace” exchanged between a liege lord and his vassal? Is Gawain simply being a dutiful guest by honoring the bargain with his host, actually just kissing the Lady again via the proxy of her husband, or somewhat more into this whole thing with the Lord than he (or the poet) would like to admit? Is the homosocial turning homoerotic, and how is Gawain going to navigate this tension and temptation?

If the question is never resolved: well, welcome to one of the central medieval anxieties about chivalry, knighthood, and male bonds! As I have written about before, medieval society needed to simultaneously exalt this as the most honored and noble form of love, and make sure it didn’t accidentally turn sexual (once again: how much male love is too much male love?). Does the poem raise the possibility of serious disruption to the dominant heteronormative paradigm, only to solve the problem by interpreting the Gawain/Lady male/female kisses as romantic and sexual and the Gawain/Lord male/male kisses as chaste and formal? In other words, acknowledging the underlying anxiety of possible homoeroticism but ultimately reasserting the heterosexual norm? The answer: Probably?!?! Maybe?!?! Hell if we know??! To say the least, this has been argued over to no end, and if you locked a lot of medieval history/literature scholars into a room and told them that they couldn’t come out until they decided on one clear answer, they would be in there for a very long time. The poem seemingly invokes the possibility of a queer reading only to reject it – but once again, as in the question of which canon we end up in at the film’s end, does it?

In some lights, the film’s treatment of this potential queer reading comes off like a cop-out: there is only one kiss between Gawain and the Lord, and it is something that the Lord has to initiate after Gawain has already fled the hall. Gawain himself appears to reject it; he tells the Lord to let go of him and runs off into the wilderness, rather than deal with or accept whatever has been suggested to him. However, this fits with film!Gawain’s pattern of rejecting that which fundamentally makes him who he is; like Peter in the Bible, he has now denied the truth three times. With the scavengers he denies being a knight; with the Lady he denies knowing about courtly love; with the Lord he denies the central bond of brotherhood with his fellows, whether homosocial or homoerotic in nature. I would go so far as to argue that if Gawain does die at the end of the film, it is this rejected kiss which truly seals his fate. In the poem, the Lord and the Green Knight are revealed to be the same person; in the film, it’s not clear if that’s the case, or they are separate characters, even if thematically interrelated. If we assume, however, that the Lord is in fact still the human form of the Green Knight, then Gawain has rejected both his kiss of peace (the standard gesture of protection offered from lord to vassal) and any deeper emotional bond that it can be read to signify. The Green Knight could decide to spare Gawain in recognition of the courage he has shown in relinquishing the enchanted belt – or he could just as easily decide to kill him, which he is legally free to do since Gawain has symbolically rejected the offer of brotherhood, vassalage, or knight-bonding by his unwise denial of the Lord’s freely given kiss. Once again, the film raises the overall thematic and moral question and then doesn’t give one straight (ahem) answer. As with the medieval anxieties and chivalric texts that it is based on, it invokes the specter of queerness and then doesn’t neatly resolve it. As a modern audience, we find this unsatisfying, but once again, the film is refusing to conform to our expectations.

As has been said before, there is so much kissing between men in medieval contexts, both ceremonial and otherwise, that we’re left to wonder: “is it gay or is it feudalism?” Is there an overtly erotic element in Gawain and the Green Knight’s mutual “beheading” of each other (especially since in the original version, this frees the Lord from his curse, functioning like a true love’s kiss in a fairytale). While it is certainly possible to argue that the film has “straightwashed” its subject material by removing the entire sequence of kisses between Gawain and the Lord and the unresolved motives for their existence, it is a fairly accurate, if condensed, representation of the anxieties around medieval knightly bonds and whether, as Carolyn Dinshaw put it, a (male/male) “kiss is just a kiss.” After all, the kiss between Gawain and the Lady is uncomplicatedly read as sexual/romantic, and that context doesn’t go away when Gawain is kissing the Lord instead. Just as with its multiple futurities, the film leaves the question open-ended. Is it that third and final denial that seals Gawain’s fate, and if so, is it asking us to reflect on why, specifically, he does so?

The film could play with both this question and its overall tone quite a bit more: it sometimes comes off as a grim, wooden, over-directed Shakespearean tragedy, rather than incorporating the lively and irreverent tone that the poem often takes. It’s almost totally devoid of humor, which is unfortunate, and the Grim Middle Ages aesthetic is in definite evidence. Nonetheless, because of the comprehensive de-historicizing and the obvious lack of effort to claim the film as any sort of authentic representation of the medieval past, it works. We are not meant to understand this as a historical document, and so we have to treat it on its terms, by its own logic, and by its own frames of reference. In some ways, its consistent opacity and its refusal to abide by modern rules and common narrative conventions is deliberately meant to challenge us: as before, when we recognize Arthur, Merlin, the Round Table, and the other stock characters because we know them already and not because the film tells us so, we have to fill in the gaps ourselves. We are watching the film not because it tells us a simple adventure story – there is, as noted, shockingly little action overall – but because we have to piece together the metatext independently and ponder the philosophical questions that it leaves us with. What conclusion do we reach? What canon do we settle in? What future or resolution is ultimately made real? That, the film says, it can’t decide for us. As ever, it is up to future generations to carry on the story, and decide how, if at all, it is going to survive.

(And to close, I desperately want them to make my much-coveted Bisclavret adaptation now in more or less the same style, albeit with some tweaks. Please.)

Further Reading

Ailes, Marianne J. ‘The Medieval Male Couple and the Language of Homosociality’, in Masculinity in Medieval Europe, ed. by Dawn M. Hadley (Harlow: Longman, 1999), pp. 214–37.

Ashton, Gail. ‘The Perverse Dynamics of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Arthuriana 15 (2005), 51–74.

Boyd, David L. ‘Sodomy, Misogyny, and Displacement: Occluding Queer Desire in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Arthuriana 8 (1998), 77–113.

Busse, Peter. ‘The Poet as Spouse of his Patron: Homoerotic Love in Medieval Welsh and Irish Poetry?’, Studi Celtici 2 (2003), 175–92.

Dinshaw, Carolyn. ‘A Kiss Is Just a Kiss: Heterosexuality and Its Consolations in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Diacritics 24 (1994), 205–226.

Kocher, Suzanne. ‘Gay Knights in Medieval French Fiction: Constructs of Queerness and Non-Transgression’, Mediaevalia 29 (2008), 51–66.

Karras, Ruth Mazo. ‘Knighthood, Compulsory Heterosexuality, and Sodomy’ in The Boswell Thesis: Essays on Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality, ed. Matthew Kuefler (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006), pp. 273–86.

Kuefler, Matthew. ‘Male Friendship and the Suspicion of Sodomy in Twelfth-Century France’, in The Boswell Thesis: Essays on Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality, ed. Matthew Kuefler (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006), pp. 179–214.

McVitty, E. Amanda, ‘False Knights and True Men: Contesting Chivalric Masculinity in English Treason Trials, 1388–1415,’ Journal of Medieval History 40 (2014), 458–77.

Mieszkowski, Gretchen. ‘The Prose Lancelot's Galehot, Malory's Lavain, and the Queering of Late Medieval Literature’, Arthuriana 5 (1995), 21–51.

Moss, Rachel E. ‘ “And much more I am soryat for my good knyghts’ ”: Fainting, Homosociality, and Elite Male Culture in Middle English Romance’, Historical Reflections / Réflexions historiques 42 (2016), 101–13.

Zeikowitz, Richard E. ‘Befriending the Medieval Queer: A Pedagogy for Literature Classes’, College English 65 (2002), 67–80.

#the green knight #the green knight meta #sir gawain and the green knight #medieval literature #medieval history #this meta is goddamn 5.2k words #and has its own reading list #i uh #said i had a lot of thoughts?

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ppgxrrblove · 3 years ago

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I am honestly glad monster high is officially been killed...the cgi child like reboot was okay, I didn't have a problem with it at all, it fit the target audience 100%

but the new reboot they're doing is just a woke, satanic - well woke is satanic in its core definition, if your a Christian you'll understand this, for those who don't understand - Satan, lucifer is woke himself. All of the woke hot garbage agenda comes from him, "shocking I know" lol - anyway, back to the topic; they changed possibly more characters personality, changed who they are originally to fit the woke agenda they even changed one or more character sex - to again please the woke sex cult, to be exact...and I honestly believed back in the day till this date..until I found out through reddit fanatics that it has always been a theory including the doll community as well - that it was true that clawdeen is bisexual, and...I forgot the rest lol cause of this ugly as heck live action movie, it was the only reason how I remembered this old news discussion.

But as I stated already it was false, it was made up by the fanatics that desperately wanted to project their personal life styles onto a children's TV show a bunch of adults - don't try to make up excuses that teenagers were the ones that asked for this a lot of times when they weren't, I still remember those early day comments and majority of the children viewing MH were more interested in how the show progressed, who Frankie gonna ditch next, or who she is gonna actually end up with, to making a huge stack of monster high oc - that's what majority of the children that watched MH were focused on, yes I know of the woke parents indoctrinated they're children towards their woke ideologies, that they will be asking for such stuff, however, they weren't as many as the regular child audience.

Nonetheless, it doesn't surprise me that the creator of MH is lgbt, - I found out by the time the lady gaga doll collab released, it hit me right there and then - of course, the books "hinting" it honestly more like treasure hunting hiding it because nick ain't about that life at said time this was occuring, they don't want to get again caught by grooming situation *cough* icarlycreatorandpeopleonnick , but yeah, i can see why they told the groomer - I mean creator for MH to not put that into the children's TV show back in the day...until they broke it off this year with loud house..really terrible show, I believe there may have been a before first lgbt stuff on nick content?? But that's the only one that I believe was the first time they've done that towards going on with there other grooming tactics lol.

Now the gromreator...trying to fuse groom + creator here e.e....not working, creating a monster name hahaha....- had stated on his Instagram that he was just gonna slap all types of grooming(making the entire cast well some of them, lgbt) content originally for MH but nick again didn't want to around said time - they need to rail in those fishes before they do such acts. So knowing that this happened...it sucks cause I love monster high, my first favorite monsti was Frankie stien until I learned about her just being a terrible, cheap dollar teenage whore...yeah...once you realize this- it..it don't look right even if they try to 'fix' it by potentially making her love interest be that unicorn Grey rainbow hair guy - sadly it didn't even last, like jeez they really destroyed her character on the relationship department and back then up until before this entire reboot live thing occurred people despised the heck out of Frankie and now people love her(note; reddit go to r/monsterhigh and scroll past until you find the post about Frankie being none binary - look at the comment section, and I do believe there is another one as well discussing it too) - not kidding, because she is none binary..because of that..they will ditch the real og Frankie- accept..like you're just trying to half butt clean a stain that has been left there for too long mate - it ain't gonna work for those who can see, smell the pandering, and yes they should've created a new character for that instead of grabbing an already existing character which really does fit with draculaura but we shall get to her in a minute, - fairly it doesn't really matter the real Frankie, will always be a skank, and a terrible ghoul nothing that you do will change about this character.

After me accepting that Frankie is like this, I drifted apart from the series, but, I did try my best to keep up with it by rewatching each web episode on their website back in the day. Thanks to me rewatching the episodes my love for drac, blew up - like drac, Gothic Victorian, Lolita cutie pie drac stole me away - I drew all my attention towards her until they gave her a wrong "boyfriend" ..sigh..I had hoped it would be someone else but yeah not into the whole pairing sorry, and clawdeen as well - I fell in love with her she was adorable, sassy and what made me love her even more was the matter of her being into fashion - her story progressing in the France movie was really sweet..but, that's not to state that I didn't like any of her outfits she wore cause boy oh there were times that i just couldn't stand some of the outfits at all she wore. I loved some but others ew.

Now in the live action, as I stated before I would be mentioning said quote i mentioned how they should have created a new character instead of stinking being lazy pieces of poop and taking an already beloved established character..again this a reboot to the series so..it doesn't surprise me but it disgusts me. They already *have* a witch character, so what do they do with draculaura? For those who don't know yet, they swapped her entire characteristic of what she does - just slap the witch gross sticker on her and call it a day..I am not gonna lie that I was upset about it but I already had moved on from it since i know that will never be og draculaura, even though..in the game that I have for MH I find out that she vegan..I forgot about her profile bio it's been so long and my memory ain't well at times, so me realizing it again, is yeah..not into her being vegan like I get it she's trying to avoid blood but she can still eat meat just cooked - i never understood why she couldn't eat cooked meat..- it doesn't have no blood at all lol plus it's coming from animals.. while clawdeen got 0 problems eating meat with the rest of the characters as well as ghoulia being a zombie xD - it just I don't get it.

...With that being stated, I am done here, MH was a good show, it was fine while it lasted for me, now I have since moved on from it..though I will never move on from my favorite ghouls, I already have cut ties with media that has woke imagery in it..that includes og MH it had way too much of it, now the new one is gonna have a ton on blast it's just not my tea anymore, I rather continue following the lord then just engross myself with something that is vile.

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magic-hcs · 2 years ago

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Would love a matchup~

Some basics:

-She/her

-5.7" (172cm) tall

-Fair skinned, blue eyes, blond medium length hair, glasses, a bit of soft squishy chub

-Pansexual

Who am I?

I'm on the autism spectrum, so I'm often shy and quiet to begin with, especially in crowds. Unless you mention something I'm interested/passionate about then expect sparkles as I rant. Then get profusely embarrassed and blushy after said rant. Never out and about without my earbuds/headphones, listening to music keeps me from getting over stimulated.

I love to dye my hair all sorts of colors. I mostly tend to stick to reds and purples, but occasionally change things up with another color, blue, green, pink, rainbow. Would totally dye my hair the same color as their magic for fun.

Don't follow fashion trends, I wear what I like. Can go from wearing all black to colourful outfits. Likes layers, often wear dresses and skirt. Lots of knitted clothes. Soft cottagecore. Doesn't wear much makeup day to day, but when I'm going out or during special occasions I'll go all out and look absolutely bomb every time. Self conscious about my looks and struggle a bit with my body but still try to wear what I want.

I prefer home dates, but love to every now and then go out, cinema, go out to eat, shopping, hiking or other fun activities that's not too high energy*.

Struggle with ME*(chronic fatigue syndrome), so I have good days and bad days. Only have really bad days if I push myself too much physically. Mostly just manage to move myself from bed to couch. So wont always be able to keep up with chores or go out when I have bad days. Try to do some crafts but don't always have the energy for it. Despite it all I have a positive outlook and always try my best to make the best of the day.

I'm bad at initiating physical touch at first, but I love being close to my partner. You know I'm crushing on somone when I start leaving touches and once we're steady I'll start leaning into them for comfort when I'm getting overstimulated. They become my safe haven. Mostly just physical with a partner. Love being together and touching in some way, if were doing something together or doing separate things in the same space. Arms touching, leaning into each other, head/legs on lap. If their head is on my lap and I have a free hand, I will be softly caress their head, chest or somewhere else. Occasionally I will need some alone time to decompress.

Very creative and have all sorts of creative hobbies. Always interested in learning new things and can often spend hours learning and watching videos of my current hyperfixation.

I run my own little online store were I sell my creations.

On to my hobbies, I'll make this short and sweet~

-Knitting, Crochet, Jewelry making, Beading, Clay, Painting, Resin, Sticker making, Graphic design, Illustration, Video games(pc, switch), movies and series(live action and animated), Reading, Writing, Baking, Sewing, Photography, 3D design, Playing my Kalimba(thumb piano)

- I love to collect cute things, figures, trinkets, miniatures, plushies, scented candles, essential oils and fairy lights. Have way too many soft, fluffy blankets and pillows.

My love language for giving is quality time and gifts(love to give handmade gifts to people I love), for receiving it's acts of service and gifts(I don't care about expensive stuff, just the fact they saw something no mater what it is and thought of me enough to buy/make, gives me the big fuzzies).

A deal breaker for me is bad hygiene, especially not washing those hands or regularly brush their teeth (this might lean more towards humans rather then skeleton monsters). Somone who doesn't like animals, I come with at least 2 cats and a dog. Wants to have pet rats again.

I love when my hair is played with, having somone run their fingers through my hair and/or messaging my scalp and I'll immediately turn into a puddle. Absolutely adore the sound of purring, one of the best sounds in the world.

Dislike strong smells and hard, stiff fabrics. Haven't worn jeans in over 10 years.

Not particularly any physical traits I'm attracted to, it's all about their personality. I love someone who can make me laugh, someone who I can be silly with. Somone who will help and support me during my bad days without complaint. Somone who I can relax and be lazy with, but also somone who can push me a bit to go out more, small daily walks (love a little quiet nature walks).

I'm ok with multiple matches and love me a cute poly~

Can't wait to see who you match me with 💚 Hopefully I didn't rant on to much >w<;;

Gonna start off and say I love your essay about yourself, organized enough to make finding stuff I need easier! And you don’t have to worry, you didn’t rant too much!

Let’s do this!

Matchups are closed!

~~matching…~~matching~….~matching~~…~DING~

You match with Syrup!

✨✨

(US Papyrus): Syrup:

I feel like Syrup knew you from one of his brother’s short lived clubs (Sky loves trying out all kinds of hobbies but to prevent him getting too bored of it he cycles through them) or from his D&D club/campaigns. So Syrup sees you around sometimes, at first he hadn’t talked to you often, he heard all kinds of good stuff about you from Sky so he got curious. Then one day he or his brother mention something and you start gushing. And oh boy, oh boy, Syrup practically sees you start to glow as you rant, and then you get embarrassed and blushy and Syrup can’t help but find you adorable. He acts on the urge to make a joke to lighten up the situation and brush off your embarrassment because there’s no need to be embarrassed about ranting about things you love. And your laugh is like music to his non-existing ears.

You guys become the best of friends, I can tell you that. Syrup encourages you to use your headphones/earbuds to help you out from getting overstimulated. He gets it, his own coping mechanism to deal with overwhelm-ness, stress and frustration is to suck on lollipops. Everyone got their own things. Very early on you two made a system where Syrup either draws your attention by waving when he wants to talk to you, or he sends a message to the device you’re currently using to draw your attention. It’s so neither of you get frustrated.

As everyone knows, Syrup is one clumsy boy. So he falls often. Meaning he can fall into a crush quite easily. It’s a tiny crush that makes him a bit more clumsy and stuttery/easily flustered but those he can get over quickly. However as he gets to know you, he trips further and ends up falling hard.

He loves the colors you dye your hair in. Syrup likes to guess what new color you’re dying your hair with. If you dye your hair the same color as Syrup’s magic then you succeeded in crashing his system! He straight up freezes as his entire face erupts in a darkish orange color and a high pitched whistle leaves him.

Loves anything you wear. I’m legit, this boy believes you’re gorgeous, he adores you in whatever you choose to wear. As long as you like it and are comfortable in it. Be prepared to get your chub worshiped because come on, an amazing pillow is right there and it’s made of you. Syrup would be crazy to not love that.

While we are on the topic, he loves to nap on you.

The moment you give him any sign of an ok he’s all over you with touch. Syrup is a cuddle bug true and through, you can’t change my mind. However before you two are together, it’s more small touches and sitting closer together. The moment you guys are together he goes full on cuddles and snuggles. He blushes while he initiates contact at first but the more he does it the less flustered he gets. Until you start initiating touch back. Syrup goes straight back to being flustered. The first time you leaned on him he swears he had died and gone to heaven or something.

Syrup too sometimes needs his alone time.

On the bad days Syrup will either just join you on the couch or message you memes and joke around to make you smile.

Once he learns you have your own store he’s buying stuff from it, he already loves stuff you make he just wanna show his support. That being said, if you made him something he will treasure it forever.

He likes animals and he wouldn’t mind pets, him and Sky were planning to get a dog anyways. He loves to play with your critters.

This boy will deadass giggle at your blunt/brutally honest comments. He loves that a lot about you.

✨✨

#200 followers matchup event #matchup event #matchup #undertale #papyrus #undertale x reader #underswap papyrus x reader #underswap papyrus #underswap #syrup #papyrus x reader

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rudojudo · 2 years ago

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Next Episode Trailer

So I figured instead of looking back at the last year, I’d get more out of thinking about my plans for the next one. So here’s everything in the works from me/Rudo Judo Games in 2023! I hate being so transparent about it, but I’d love it if this got shared around a bit for the people who’d be interested.

Giant of Light

This is the big one! My love letter to the modern incarnation of the Ultraman series. This is an adventure game about being someone who either turns into a giant superhero or has access to a portfolio of kaiju. You investigate trouble and when the time comes, the action shifts to a grid-based battle system for the super-sized action. It’s probably 90% written and I want to get some more art for the interior, then it’s out there.

The Hard Way

This one’s less an adoring homage and more a shitpost that came to life. The core concept is playing through an entry in the SAW series, with the intended vibe of the table being friends watching a trashy horror movie with snacks. I thought this one was done, but then I ran a session and realized that it needed refinement, so now I’m refining! Still coming soon, though.

Santa Carla at 4AM

Another joke that possessed me suddenly (shout out to Lil), this is a short, possibly even one-page RPG about being one of the Lost Boys before/outside the narrative of the movie itself. You play as a beautiful, immortal dirtbag looking to amuse themself and help eternity pass faster. Pull big stunts, feed on tourists, get in fights, and most importantly of all, have profound homoerotic tension.

Further Down the Pike

Not projects I’m going to probably get finished this year, but here are the ideas I’m most interested in working on when those three are done:

Free Lunch for Magic Users: in a magical post-apocalypse, players are con-men and odd-jobs using their extremely limited magical powers to make a living. Think Fallout, Cowboy Bebop, and Adventure Time, but starring people on the level of Arataka Reigen or Peter Venkman.

V/H/Essence: play as a movie monster in a world that hates you for existing. Less X-Men, more a thesis statement about being Queer in America. Comes from the fact that almost all the people I know who really, passionately love horror are gay and/or Trans.

Demon Castle Dracula: a team-based game inspired by the Castlevania series. Work together to map the castle, slay the coterie of monsters from world mythology living there, then take on the dark lord and break his curse on the land.

Sentai Squad (working title): each player gets their own team of brightly-colored heroes who work together to defeat monsters, but you’re also making sure that your team is the most beloved, the most famous, and the top seller of merchandise. Maybe being a hero can get a little cutthroat.

Journey to the Quest: an adventure game inspired by Shonen Jump comics like Dragon Ball (not Z) and early One Piece. Play as a heroic child on a quest for greatness, making the world better as you pass through it.

Things That Aren't Games

As though that wasn't plenty. But I do want to try to do more, since hanging all my hopes and dreams on a single hobby/subculture is asking for trouble. But I have three other big goals, things that will probably get priority over a fourth game.

A novel: I have an idea that I've been nurturing for a while and I think it's really coming together. I think I can manage a first draft of a short novel in one year, even working around the games and day job.

A short story submission: this one's a bit fuzzier, but I'd like to have some published fiction I can point to if I'm going to be shopping a novel around for publication, so it makes sense to have more work in print.

Podcasting: I want my games played. I want people to hear how they work and I would love to connect with the massive talents out there in the Actual Play space. So I want me and/or my games to make two appearances on shows this year.

SO! High bar. I know. I didn't get a quarter this much done in 2022. I know I won't do it all unless I really put myself into it, but if I can even come close, this will be my best creative year yet. I hope you can join me.

#rudo judo at the design board #Tabletop Games #ttrpg #indie ttrpg #indie fiction #actual play

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giveamadeuschohisownmovie · 4 years ago

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“The Suicide Squad” movie review:

Short review:

It’s better than the 2016 movie. I give it a solid A rating.

Long review:

I’m going to approach this movie from a different angle than my usual reviews. For me to really talk about this movie, I have to go back and discuss how I felt about the 2016 movie. First and foremost, let me just say that I hate the 2016 Suicide Squad film. It was clunky, pointless, and felt like a bunch of scenes stapled together rather than a cohesive picture. What’s interesting is that a big reason why the 2021 movie succeeds is that it fixed a lot of what I felt were the 2016 movie’s problems.

This is why I have to take a different angle for this review. To really talk about the good points, I gotta go into what I felt were problems in the 2016 movie and explain how the 2021 movie rectified those mistakes. Alright, let’s begin.

1) The mission is more appropriate for this type of team. I felt that the 2016 movie went about the wrong way by sending the Suicide Squad in to stop Enchantress from conquering the city/world. I know that it was more so to rescue Amanda Waller, but I felt that the mission in the 2016 movie was more suited for a Justice League-type team.

The Suicide Squad is a black ops team made of imprisoned supervillains that is sent in to do Waller’s dirty work. They should be doing shady shit that rubs the audience the wrong way. And in the 2021 movie, that’s what they’re doing. The mission is objectively horrible since it’s the US intervening in a South American country to cover up their illegal actions (insert real world parallels here). That’s far from heroic, but it works for the movie since that’s exactly what the Squad should be used for.

2) The movie actually lives up to the “Suicide” part of “Suicide Squad”. If I recall correctly, only two members of the Squad and some rando Navy SEALs died in the original film. While I generally frown on stories just killing people off for shock value, Suicide Squad is an exception since a high body count is to be expected for this team. Heck, even Deadshot called out that there’s a high chance most of them will die during the mission. So yes, most of the team dies in the 2021 movie, but it’s fine since it’s being true to the story and the comics.

3) The movie did a better job at portraying the team as villains being forced to do another villain’s dirty work. Deadshot repeatedly says in the 2016 movie that they’re bad guys, but the movie didn’t do a good job showing that. It’s Will Smith, the audience knows his character is actually a good man on the inside. And that’s not even covering Diablo, the tragic man who is trying to repent for his past actions, or Katana, who isn’t even a supervillain.

In the 2021 movie, it’s a lot more clear that the characters we’re following are horrible people. Bloodsport is a shitty father who competes with Peacemaker over who can kill the most creatively. Peacemaker is Captain America but if he was a crazy, right-wing monster. Ratcatcher 2 is an apathetic bank robber. Polka Dot Man is basically Norman Bates. And Harley Quinn is...Harley Quinn. While the team does get their hero moment, I like that the Squad was actually portrayed as supervillains being forced to do good.

4) Way better characterization for Amanda Waller. While 2016 Amanda Waller was no saint, 2021 Amanda Waller is straight up an irredeemable monster. And that’s good because the concept of the Suicide Squad (forcing prisoners to do illegal operations for the government) is vile to begin with.

5) The found family dynamics feels more earned in this movie than the 2016 film. I already wrote this in another post, but it’s not enough to just tell the audience that the team is a family. Harley Quinn can say her teammates are her family all she wants, but it’s not convincing since there were barely any scenes of the 2016 team just bonding. Yeah, they had that scene at the bar, but most of that scene was dedicated to Diablo’s backstory. Other than that, the team were just sorta together.

In the 2021 movie, you actually believe that the Squad is a found family just based on how they interact. What’s the big difference? Well, the team actually...you know...interacts with each other. This is where James Gunn really shines through since the “Guardians of the Galaxy” vibe really works for this type of story. You can’t just tell the audience that the team is a family, you need to show it, which Gunn does.

6) The movie utilizes the team way better than the 2016 film. A big problem I had with the first film was that the story didn’t really justify why the Squad had to be the ones to handle Enchantress. The US government already had the Navy SEALs. Plus, there were several members who didn’t really contribute to the mission. I kept forgetting that Killer Croc was there, Captain Boomerang wasn’t given that much to do, and Katana was completely wasted.

The 2021 movie did a better job justifying why each member of the Squad was important. Yes, most of them died, but the deaths established just how expendable the team was. And for the final battle, each member contributed in taking Starro down. I never felt that there was a teammate who could’ve been left out of the movie. Even the members who died early on were more memorable than the 2016 roster.

Okay, that’s a good stopping point. To sum up, this movie feels like James Gunn read the negative reviews for the 2016 movie and used them as a reference in directing the 2021 movie. Even though Warner Bros and DC don’t want to call this movie a reboot, it really does feel like one due to how much it feels like a do-over. And you know what...I’m fine with that since the end result was a much better, more cohesive story.

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vintagegeekculture · 4 years ago

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The Chinese Cultural Inspirations for Dragon Ball Z and Super

Journey to the West was only the beginning.

A lot of people are vaguely aware that Dragon Ball was inspired by Chinese culture and Hong Kong Kung Fu movies and novels, but are unaware of how deep and long lasting it goes. The Japanese spent the 1980s fascinated by China, which opened up from being a closed society for decades in 1978; the most famous human being in Japan in the 80s was either Michael Jackson or Jackie Chan.

In fact, a lot of people commonly believe that the Chinese action movie and Kung Fu novel cultural and media influence on Dragon Ball ended very early on. This is untrue. Sure, we started to see qipaos and cheongsams less frequently when they headed to West City, but it absolutely did not finish, because there’s tons of influence to see even as impossibly late as Dragon Ball Super. Interestingly, I don’t think any of these point of inspirations have been pointed out before, mainly because a lot of Chinese adventure novels are simply not available in English.

The Piccolo/Gohan plot was inspired by the Chinese action novel “Heavenly Sword and Dragon Sabre.”

Okay, tell me if you’ve heard this story before: a truly demonic, weird looking monster villain is defeated by a martial arts hero, but by circumstance, is forced into training his greatest enemy’s young son. The villain trains the young boy, the son of his enemy, in martial arts and over time, becomes like a second father or uncle to him and his family, putting the boy in his “evil” sect, and thanks to his love of his rival’s son, this baddie turns over a new leaf and goes from evil to just…grumpy, and becomes a loyal, though gruff, ally of the boy.

Of course, the events of Heavenly Sword and Dragon Sabre are a bit different from Dragon Ball in details. The Lion King becomes Wuji’s teacher because they are both stranded together on an island after a shipwreck, for instance, and he is blinded and made vulnerable. Also, the Lion King wasn’t so much evil so much as he was misunderstood by the orthodox martial world. However, in broad outlines, this trajectory for a face turn (becomes friends with his greatest enemy’s son, and becomes like a second father to him as he trains him, causing the villain to become a gruff good guy and ally) is essentially from one of the most famous Chinese novels ever written in the 1960s.

Oh, and while we’re at it, Gohan is likewise inspired by another character from a Louis Cha novel: the Prince of Dali Duan Yu in the Kung Fu novel Demigods and Semi-Devils. The Prince in that novel is a naïve, pacifistic scholar who prefers books to fighting, and who was raised to be timid and avoid combat, absolutely out of step with his family, all of whom are martial artists and warriors. In fact, the beginning of the story is the prince gets incredibly lost in the wilderness, where the hopelessly naïve prince is utterly out of his depth, with all the robbers and scary beasts, and needs to be saved by real martial artists that protect him like fairy godparents. He spends the first part of the story running away from everything, scared as hell. However, by circumstance, he has naturally high power he cannot fully initially control, and eventually realizes that even scholars and others who hate fighting have to sometimes become fighters to protect those they love.

The Duan Yu part of Demigods and Semi-Devils was made into a film, the Battle Wizard, which was reviewed by PewDiePie. The Dragonball similarities went over his head because, honestly, PewDiePie does not strike me as a perceptive person.

Hit was based on the screen persona of Chow Yun Fat.

Chow Yun Fat was a Hong Kong cinema superstar who was to director John Woo what Robert de Niro was to Martin Scorsese. There are three giveaways that Hit was based on Chow Yun Fat. One, he’s an assassin, same as Chow Yun Fat’s character in the Killer, and is even given a sequence that’s a John Woo homage with an assassination in an office building with guns pulled on an empty elevator in an act of misdirection. Second, he’s wearing the single piece of clothing Chow Yun Fat is associated with, a black trenchcoat (fun fact: in Hong Kong today, trenchcoats are called Brother Mark Coats, after Chow Yun Fat’s character in John Woo’s A Better Tomorrow). Third, his power is essentially bullet time, a visual technique refined by John Woo in Hong Kong in the 80s and 90s in his gunplay triad movies starring Chow Yun Fat (what, you think the Wachowskis invented it?).

The Goku/Vegeta relationship is from “Legend of the Condor Heroes.”

Here’s a story you might have heard before. It’s about two rivals, but by circumstance, one is raised in the wilderness beyond civilization, where he becomes an honest and goodhearted, though overly naive bumpkin, martial arts prodigy. The other is raised a wealthy prince by a conquering enemy, who grows up to also become an armor wearing martial arts expert, but also a cunning, arrogant, emotionally distant sociopath.

The similarities go into their love lives, too. The unsophisticated bumpkin hero is betrothed to a daughter of a powerful bearded barbarian king against his will, while the one hint of vulnerability and loss of emotional detachment in the otherwise sociopathic prince, the crack in his smirky arrogance, is that he loves a girl he otherwise pretends to hate, and even fathers a child with her who becomes a main character later.

This is Guo Jing and Yang Kang from Legend of the Condor Heroes. The most fascinating similarity, and proof that female psychology is the same all over the world, is that the fangirls love the emotionally distant, arrogant, and sexy/evil prince (remember when Rhonda Rousey said her first crush was Vegeta?). Girls everywhere love bad boys and sexy villains, and oh boy, do they love Prince Yang Kang. I think you can probably guess who all the fan art is about for Legend of the Condor Heroes, and what ship is the most popular.

I have to emphasize that Legend of the Condor Heroes, which came out in the 1950s-60s, is possibly the most widely read novel by the most widely read novelist on earth - the sales on that dwarf Twilight and Harry Potter. It’s probably not an exaggeration to say nearly every Chinese person, even if they never read it, knows who these characters are. In fact, Yang Kang and Guo Jing from Condor Heroes are basically repeated over and over in Asian, Chinese, and Japanese culture. Does the unsophisticated but gifted martial arts prodigy bumpkin hero, and the glib, arrogant wealthy prince rival remind you of….another duo of rivals?

Gohan/Videl comes from Little Dragon Maiden

One of the most important and influential Martial Arts novels of all time is “Return of the Condor Heroes.” A sequel to Condor Heroes, this time, the main character is the teenage son of one of the main characters from the first novel. It gets even more familiar from there.

“Return of the Condor Heroes” was about a martial arts couple who are also master and student, the same age but vastly different in experience and skill so one somehow seems “older,” and they fall in love because the circumstances of training together requires they spend lots of time together and become intimate. The training story and the love story are exactly the same in “Return of the Condor Heroes.” The dead giveaway one story inspired the other is that in both, the most significant training sequence is one where the master teaches the student how to fly (though Return used a chamber of sparrows for lightness Kung Fu).

There are some differences of course – obviously in Return of the Condor Heroes, the genders of teacher and student are flipped from Gohan and Videl (it’s the Little Dragon Maiden who is a powerful teacher, and the boy who is the student). It was the girl (Videl) who was a rebellious delinquent in Dragon Ball Z, when it was the opposite in the novel, true. But it was obvious this story was in the back of the creator’s mind as a way to combine Kung Fu with the love story, by making teacher and student lovers.

Addendum: hey, remember that awesome movie Kung Fu Hustle, the one Hong Kong movies normies have seen? Well, remember the landlord and landlady? The landlady was named Xiao Lung Nu, or Little Dragon Maiden, and her husband was named Yang Guo – the same as the main characters in Return of the Condor Heroes. It was a joke that went over the heads of Westerners, by giving these names of attractive and naïve young people in love with each other to a surly, bitter, arguing and chain smoking middle aged couple who don’t give a damn.

Going Super Saiyan comes from “Reincarnated” aka “Bastard Swordsman.”

Stop me if this sounds familiar: a terrifying warlord tyrant prone to killing underlings who displease him has achieved a level of skill and cultivation so tremendous nobody can stop him. But there is one, and only one, thing he fears and that can defeat him: a long-lost legendary skill that nobody has achieved in recent memory, that includes a supernatural combat power transformation that turns the hair light to indicate it worked.

This is “Silkworm Skill” from Reincarnated aka Bastard Swordsman, a novel and TV series from Hong Kong in the early 1980s. Of course, there are differences. To get the power boost and new hair color, the hero has to jump in a cocoon he weaves himself. In fact, the scene is so well known that they actually have it on the poster.

(To those saying “Super Saiyan turns your hair blonde, not white” my response is that it turns hair white, or uncolored, in the comic book.)

The idea of your hair turning white to indicate a new supernatural combat transformation or martial state wasn’t created by Bastard Swordsman, though – though it is the best example and probably the one most familiar to a 1980s audience due to the hugely popular books and TV series. For an older example, a famous Chinese movie based on a folktale is “Bride With the White Hair,” about a bride who’s hair turns white when she is betrayed, in her anger, she becomes less a woman and more a supernatural creature of vengeance (interesting that anger should be the means to unlock it).

#dragon ball z #china #kung fu #martial arts #anime

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years ago

Text

Heart’s Possession - MichaelxAdamxfem!reader part 5

Adam and Reader grew up together and were high school sweethearts, after his death and learning about monsters, (Y/N) tries to move on but never forgets her first love. When ten years pass, what will happen when a familiar face appears?

———

Michael’s training techniques was like her grandmother teaching (Y/N) how to play the piano. If you didn’t get it right the first time, you did it over and over until you did it perfect. It was fine playing piano, maybe a little annoying. But when it came to learning how to fight from an angel, it was harder than she could have ever thought of. There were better moments though, when Adam came out after training was over.

It truly was like a rom-com that she would nag on back in the day. They spent the nights cuddled up on the couch, watching movies, eating popcorn, play-wrestling, doing the sort of things that they used to in their college apartment. (Y/N) spent hours explaining all the things that had happened when he was gone, he would listen so intently like every word she said was keeping him alive. Being with Adam was like breathing. It filled the void that had been there for years.

Then there were the nights when Michael came out after Adam had spent the day at work. She discovered that he enjoyed action movies like Immortals and Gladiator, where the hero was destined with a greater purpose. It made sense for him, since he had been created with the idea that his greater purpose was defeating his brother and pleasing his father.

Tonight was her night to choose a movie and she chose The Phantom of the Opera because who doesn’t love Gerard Butler? Another thing about Michael was that he always had a lot of questions to ask.

“Is this Phantom not the villain?” He asked as Christine was whisked away by the Phantom.

“I mean, I guess he is. I would call him more of a tragic character than a villain though.”

“He’s killed three people.”

She hummed, “To be fair, one of them deserved it.”

“Deserved it?” He raised his eyebrows at her. Michael had also developed a bit of sass in his time on Earth.

“Yes. This movie is about seeing what trauma can do, how being raised in the opera house changed him, how he created the monster vs. man identity. He has always been alone, no one to love him.” She tilted her head to the side, pointing to the screen, “He is in love with the idea of Christine, but he needs to learn what love truly is. Eventually he does, but it’s not what he wants. He sees Christine and Raoul’s love and he finally understands.” He stared at her for a moment, then back to the screen where he didn’t say another word for the rest of the movie.

Long after the movie was over, Michael had gone outside. It was something he did when he wanted to think, or he wanted to talk to Adam alone. (Y/N) was in the kitchen, washing out the popcorn bowl of butter and M&M bits when he came back in.

Without a hi or even a hello he said: ‘I understand your love.”

She turned off the sink, turning to look at him: “My what?”

“You and Adam. I understand your love. Just like I understand my love with Adam.” He said.

She paused a moment, then gasped: “Oh damn, Michael, I wasn’t comparing you to the Phantom earlier-”

“You weren’t. But I was.” Michael said, “I saw a man who grew up with certain ideas and thoughts about life but they were perceptions he created through windows and air grates. I only understood humanity as flawed creatures who went about their lives destroying each other and getting fat.”

“On behalf of humanity, ouch.”

He sighed in frustration, but there was a smile that tugged at his lips, “My point is, I have changed my perception of humanity thanks to Adam and thanks to you. And perhaps… I can understand what it would be like to love. To love Adam and to… Love you.”

It almost felt like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs, “What?” She choked out, “Love me? Michael, you hate me. You resent me. I only get in your way, that’s why you’re teaching me how to defend myself so you don’t have to.”

Slowly and with slight hesitation, Michael took a few steps forward. When he reached her, he held a hand out, brushing his fingertips over her cheek, “I don’t resent you. I’m worried about you. At first I thought it was Adam’s emotions but then I realized they were my own.”

“But-but when I got captured by the Winchesters you were so pissed. And those dragons too.” This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be real. Michael was an archangel and she was just a human. Adam she could understand, they spent hundreds of years together but that was nothing compared to the few short months they had known each other. A month to Michael was like a second, time wasn’t a problem for him.

“Even when his brothers captured you, I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad at myself for not protecting you. Then it was because Adam cared so much for you. But when those dragons had you, I felt nothing but rage. Seeing those two vile creatures hurting you. I wanted to rip them apart, killing them slowly and at the same time with a snap of my fingers.” He paused, smiling, “That doesn’t matter anymore. Never would I have thought that I would ever be so captivated by one human, let alone two."

"Michael..." His name was a whisper on her lips. His face was so close to hers, closer than it had ever been before. His presence was intoxicating, the power just seemed to roll off of him.

Out of the corner of her, movement broke the tension she felt. It was a familiar, little blue bug.

“Oh...” Her voice shook, “Uh, looks like Luella is here.” They both looked out the window as the small woman came waddling up the driveway. The two made their way to the door and opened it to greet the woman only to watch her collapse into dust.

“I mean... I knew she was old-”

“(Y/N).” Michael looked down at her sternly.

“I’m sorry! But how am I supposed to react to seeing our landlord become dust in the wind?” She took a few steps out the door, watching as Luella blew across the lawn. That’s when the chaos started, down the street cars were crashing into lamp posts, people walking down the street disappeared. The fear she felt had not been around since she had been trapped in that tomb, they were jus gone, everyone was gone. She walked backwards, reaching blindly for Michael, praying that he was still behind her. When she finally felt the wool of his sweater, she gripped it tight, almost as if she were willing him to stay there.

“(Y/N)...” He sounded so distraught, so shaken. That’s what really scared her, he was terrified.

“Michael, what is it?” She looked back at him. He was staring up, his arms reaching out in front of him, shaking.

“It’s Adam... He’s gone.”

“G-gone?” It was her turn to start shaking, “What do you mean gone?”

“He’s just... Gone.” His words took her breath away, her world falling apart once more. She didn’t realize her knees had given out until she met the cold cement of the walkway.

The world was silent, even the car alarms had ceased to sing their song. They were gone, every single person in the area. Maybe even the world. All of that might have been tolerable, but Adam was gone, and she had been left behind...

Why?

After dissociating for a while, she came back to reality. They were in the car, bags packed into the back, Michael with his hands gripped tightly on the wheel.

“Michael...” She cleared her throat to keep the shakiness in her voice to a minimum, “Michael, where are we going?”

“Somewhere safe.” He said sternly.

“Who did this?”

“You won’t like my answer.”

She closed her eyes, sighing deeply through her nose: “It was your father, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Your dad sucks.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

“So what do we do?” She asked, “You can go toe to toe with your dad but all he’ll do is snap me away.”

He gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white, she feared for a moment that the wheel would be crushed in his hands.

“He’s not taking you away, not you too.”

“Adam was your vessel and he had no problem taking him, what makes you think that it wouldn’t be just as easy, if not easier, to take me too?”

“Because...” He glanced at her, then back to the road, “He’s never seen me pissed.”

They arrived at Saint Michael's church in the late afternoon. (Y/N) always knew churches as quiet places, but now that there was no one else, it seemed like even their breathing echoed through the chapel.

At the end of the pews, there was a stage where a pastor would give his sermon if circumstances were different. On either side, there were pianos: an organ and one classic. Candle sticks held long, white candles. They were even still lit from that day's service.

"Michael?" She caught up to his pace, watching him slump down at the front pew.

"I think that this is where it started." He looked around, clasping his hands together on his lap, "My father saw their worship, their grand monuments, cathedrals. And he changed from a loving caretaker to... To someone who destroyed lives, families, and the world for his own entertainment. He used his children to play his little games. He used me." He sighed heavily, looking up at the cross on the wall. “And now he’s taken almost everything from me. Everything I wanted to build. For me, for Adam, for you.” He looked up at her. He was hurting, he was in pain.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) held her hands out for him. He took them, letting her pull him to his feet. The thought that this all-powerful being was in the palm of her hands, that an archangel loved her, was insane.

“You were doing what you thought was right. You didn’t know any better and that’s not your fault.” She reached up slowly, cupping both his cheeks in her hands. It was something she had done with Adam, he said it was like she was holding his burdens, letting him rest for a little while. Michael simply stared into her eyes, into her soul.

“You have been through so much. You’ve made mistakes, just like everyone else. And you had no reason not to trust your father, we’re supposed to trust our parents. But your dad, my dad, Adam’s... They let us down.” She smiled slightly, “But at the end of the day, we have each other. And as soon as we figure out what’s going on, we’ll get Adam back too.”

“The Winchesters are on their way with the Nephilim.” Michael hesitantly put his hands on her hips.

She blinked at him: “The what?” Her confusion seemed to lighten his mood.

“Nephilim, the child of an angel and a human. They’re forbidden.”

She narrowed her eyes, “If they’re forbidden why would they be possible then?”

He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it, shaking his head, “You’ll have to come back to me with that one.” She laughed, the sound making him grin for the first time. Or at least, the first time she had seen.

“When will they be here?”

He looked out the stained glass window, the golden glow of the sun casting over them: “In a few hours time. In the meantime... There was something I wanted to try.” Michael leaned in close, his breath ghosting over her lips. She let out a shaky breath through her nose, her eyes fluttering shut. When their lips met, it felt like there had been a spark. Before she could even react to that, his lips were fully on her; hands on either side of her face. He was being so gentle, holding her tenderly, as if one twitch would cause her to break. His lips were warm and familiar, they would be since they were Adam’s, but the way he kissed was different. He kissed like it was forbidden, like he was getting away with a crime. There was desperation, maybe from the fact that he lost someone he loved and couldn’t bear to lose another. Her body felt warm, wherever his fingers touched burned, but in a pleasurable way. Nothing like the dragons that had tried to kill her.

“I love you.” He said breathlessly.

“And I love you.” She whispered. Relationships like theirs had been odd, speaking from the aspect of polyamory. She could have never imagined herself in love with two people yet here she was. Standing in a church with an angel, an angel who loved her and Adam just the same.

Later in the stormy night, Michael and (Y/N) hid as the Winchesters arrived with the Nephilim. On closer inspection, the forbidden one seemed just as ordinary as she did. He was just a child, no older than sixteen by the looks of it.

The trio made it into the heart of the church, Michael took her hand and led her towards the center to meet them.

“So... you survived.” He called to them. The three turned to meet his eyes, they all looked extremely confused as to why she was still here. Well, join the club.

“Michael.” Sam said, looking between the two, “(Y/N).” There was a pause, loud clapping thunder surrounding the small church.

“When the rapture first began, we took refuge here. It is St. Michael's, you may have noticed.” He said as he brought them forward.

“What? Are you hiding out from your dad?” Dean asked, clearly wary of the angel.

“I'm sure he's aware I took your side against him. I've avoided using any powers that might attract his attention.” Clearly, he wasn’t counting those dragons he killed.

“And Adam?” Sam asked. She closed her eyes, tightening her grip on Michael’s hand.

“Gone. I'm sorry to say. Exterminated by my father, like everyone else.”

Dean sighed, “Poor bastard never caught a break.”

“How did the three of you manage?” The angel asked.

“Apparently, your old man has a sense of humor” Dean said, “He thought it would be hilarious to watch the three of us on an empty planet. What about you?” He asked her directly. Which was surprising.

“I don’t know.” She answered innocently.

“What, are you, uh... doing some reading?” Sam motioned to the empty bibles on the pews. They had searched the entire building for as many bibles as they could.

“I never spent much time on Earth. I was.” Michael paused, “Curious about the perception of God and Heaven.”

“And?” Dean asked.

“Amazingly, the believers loved him. They have for thousands of years. I guess my efforts were more effective than I'd hoped.”

“Your efforts?” Sam raised his eyebrows.

“When God left Heaven, I was certain of his return. So I made sure all of the angels and prophets burnished his image on Earth. The all-knowing, all-seeing, all-caring God.”

“Daddy's boy.” Michael chuckled at Dean’s words.

“And now?” The boy, Jack asked, “After seeing what Chuck's done?”

“We reached out to you. You ignored us.” Dean glared. Michael looked down at her, a soft smile pulling at his lips. The smile fell, turning back to Adam’s oldest brother.

“That was then. This is now.”

She took a step forward, looking between the three, “Tell us what you need us to do.”

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Read part 6 here!

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#adam milligan x michael #adam milligan x reader #Michael!Adam #michaelxadamxreader #supernatural fanfiction

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sylverstorms · 3 years ago

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Miss Fortune x Reader ----Salt-Crusted Heart

For an easier read, head to Ao3.

Another day. Another hunt for a fetter.

Feels like this is your life now, your present and your future. It feels like this war against the ever-spreading mist and Viego will never end. Your days as a trainee Sentinel, where the tough schedule of the Academy was your only problem, seem so far away now it’s like they belong in a dream. Like that was a different you.

And it was, wasn’t it.

That ‘you’ hadn’t ever slashed at anything other than a training dummy. Now you’re out here –with a very dysfunctional crew of lunatics— fighting mist monsters.

Said dysfunctional crew is, once again, arguing amongst themselves on which way you’re supposed to be headed next. Everyone’s got their own opinion and somehow it never matches with anyone else’s. You don’t even know how they manage that.

It takes a few light years for the majority to agree you’re heading to Bilgewater.

By the time you Wayfinder them there, you’re not surprised that all you see is darkness and sickly green mist. Half the world has gone to shit already and you’ve come to terms with that. More or less. Probably less.

“Wow.” you say as you take in the ghostly-looking town ahead of you and the armada of ships at the port below, blocking this side of the island off completely. Not that there’s a lot to block because the place is a ravaged hellhole anyway.

The environment has this wrecked, haunted vibe that would be super interesting to see in a movie with an apocalypse theme. Perhaps not so much on an actualapocalypse, though.

“Likin’ the view?” Graves asks, the corner of his lips sealed over his cigar.

“No, it was more of a ‘this is so much worse than I could have imagined’ type of wow.” you explain.

“It really is.” Riven agrees.

“Funny thing; the mist ain’t changed it all that much.” Graves laughs.

“Hey. Focus.” Lucian chastises. This guy, you’re convinced, is allergic to lightening the mood. He’s also not someone you dare say this to. “See that?” he points at the sea, to the massive ship there, towering over the rest.

You’re so focused on its fine craftsmanship and the little details you keep finding the longer your eye remains on it, you miss his point entirely, at first. Then you blink and look closer –at the thin, telltale trail of green-black smoke floating upwards from its deck.

There’s no mistaking it; a fetter is on that vessel.

“Now, listen up, everybody. Big Ol’ Graves is a legend around these parts, so my name will get us on that beauty. But. People here can be a bit… unfriendly towards new faces.” he begins. “Let’s not walk up there like an attack force and end up riddled with holes, ye?”

“Good idea.” you nod.

“Rookie, Graves, you’re heading up first.” Lucian motions with his chin.

“Bad idea.” you comment, but his skewering glare has you agreeing with the plan the same second.

“Signal if you need help.” Senna adds.

Graves only laughs heartily and grabs your uniform with his large hands, pulling you along. You know you won’t like what you hear when he leans down and whispers to you:

“We won’t have time to signal if they decide we’re not worth listening to but let’s not tell them that, Rook.”

“That’s… just what I needed to hear.” you grimace.

“Ha! Which means you’re goin’ up first. Chances are they won’t instantly shoot your pretty face off.”

“Wait… what about that ‘my name will get us up there, no trouble’?” you ask.

“Hah! That was just to impress Vayne, kiddo. My name is far more likely to get us killed in these parts.” he laughs but you don’t. “Did she look impressed?”

“No.” You shake your head. “No, she didn’t, mate.” Nothing has ever moved Vayne other than when she kills monsters in a particularly violent way.

“Ah, shit. Maybe next time.”

Yeah, if there is a next time.

Your chances aren’t looking good as soon as you step onto that deck and every weapon imaginable is suddenly shifted to you.

…

Graves tells you to put your ‘social skills’ into good use. You are not aware that was one of your talents, so it’s probably more of his bullshit. Either way, death by a thousand bullets gives you a solid motivation to turn the charm on and talk.

“Gentlemen, I’m sure we can all come to an agreement here. No need for all that firepower.” you say, totally not sweating at all underneath your white jacket. “You have something that we need and I’m sure we can negotiate a profitable deal for everyone.”

Jackpot. Bounty hunters want money more than anything. And there is not a sweeter sound to their ears than the promise of wealth. Even if you’re just talking nonsense to save your ass.

“If I could just speak to the captain—”

“The captain is listening.” a commanding voice says from up ahead. Some of the crew members part to let her through…

And.

You see a vision in this nightmare.

The woman that walks forward stands out like fire over water, like stark color on Bilgewater’s salt-washed palette. Maybe it’s the vivid red of her flowing hair, stark against the gold-trimmed black of her hat, or the emerald green of her eyes, or the way she holds herself, a queen on this deck. Whatever the reason, you cannot tear your gaze off of her.

Tongue-tied at the moment, you let Graves do the talking. Big mistake.

The goddess’ visage darkens when she sees your company, who she addresses in a less than pleasant tone: “Look what washed in with the tide. Malcolm Goddamn Graves.” You wouldn’t want that glare directed at you, ever.

“Fortune? Ah, hells, naw.” he curses. “What are ya doin’ here? How did ya get a whole damn fleet a’ warships?”

“A lot has changed since we last met. Fools around here decided to challenge me for control over Bilgewater. I locked this place down until we can resolve this inconvenience.” she says, like cutting off half the freaking island is not a big issue.

The sound of her heels on the wooden floor is downright ominous as she approaches. Her eye scans you lightning-quick, then the entirety of her attention is on Graves. The very next second…

A blunderbuss pistol is pointing right to your face, same as his.

“Whoah.” you gasp.

“What’s Gankplank paying you?!” she demands.

“I ain’t workin’ for that bastard! I ain’t even on speakin’ terms with his orange-eatin’ ass! Ya know that!”

“What I know is you came onto my deck with fancy new equipment and a whole team of mercenaries at your back. You know, just in case you thought you were being subtle, in all that silver and white sticking out in Bilgewater like a sore thumb.” She has a point. “That getup isn’t cheap and there’s only one cretin around here with that kind of coin. Now tell me what he’s planning, of you’ll be smoking that cigar through a new hole.”

“Um –ma’am? He’s telling the truth.” You almost regret speaking up when her piercing stare lands on you. “And we’re not mercenaries. We’re Sentinels of Light.” you add.

“You put on a convincing performance, cutie.” she says.

In any other scenario, a goddess like that calling you cute would make you blush. But the gun still very much in your face makes it difficult to really register the word.

“Like you’ve never heard of the ‘Saltwater Scourge’, ‘Reaver King of the High Seas’… ‘Scum-sucking Hagfish Who Takes All You Ever Cared About’…”

Oh, okay. So, she’s got a screw loose as well.Not surprising considering the company you attract, lately.

“Nope. Kiddo’s right, Sarah. They’re Sentinels, alright.” the very familiar voice of your boss, which normally doesn’t make you happy to hear, has the opposite effect now. Lucian walks up behind you to save the day.

“Lucian?” she asks, finally lowering her weapons. “…this is your crew?”

“Yep. And I’d appreciate it if you kindly refrained from killing them. Need about every gun we can get.” he replies.

“Follow me.” she says. “It seems we have a lot to discuss.”

…

Captain Fortune does not drive an easy bargain.

From what you hear later, she’s given Lucian a real hard time with negotiations. And even now, she’s the one who holds all the cards.

If you are to defeat Viego and make it clear to Bilgewater it was her who made it possible, she is willing to trade with the fetter and even let you stay on her ship in the meantime. Otherwise, if she gets the feeling it’s him who gains ground and holds the power in this place, you’re basically screwed.

The others are uneasy. They’ve suggested multiple times you steal the fetter from Fortune and dash for your lives after. Thing is, with how close she keeps that relic, that plan is looking impossible.

Which brings you to where you are right now, all the Sentinels and Miss Fortune gathered around the same map, planning your next action.

“Yes, but if I help you get there, what’s in it for me?” she asks.

And really, you don’t have anything to offer her in return. Even Lucian looks to Senna for help. Who, in turn, looks at you.

Why do they keep doing that? What have you done to convince these people you are good at talking? Especially to women like the captain.

“How about the… moral reward of helping save people from these monsters?” you suggest.

Her green eyes –and holy shit are they green— look at you like she wants to both scoff and laugh sardonically. “Tell me that is a joke.”

“It –it really isn’t.” you reply.

She huffs. “Look. I’m sure you’re all nice people. But nice people here get their throats cut.” She motions with her hand. “The cutthroats get the spoils. That’s how it works. I only care about the spoils.” she states. “So, if you want things from me and my crew, you need to make it worth our time.”

Their time sure isn’t cheap.

You know you don’t have anything at Headquarters with the kind of value she’s looking for. Definitely no coin and no gold for her services. But. You’ve heard multiple times during classes that the materials the Sentinel outfits are weaved from are extremely durable and therefore, extremely desirable.

“Would you and your crew be interested in a wardrobe overhaul?” you ask. All eyes are on you, but hers are the most intense. “Every prestigious fleet has to look the part, no? Plus, these clothes…” you say, grabbing the nearest knife and dragging it across your sleeve. The fabric is not so much as scratched. “…are pretty cool.” you tell her.

Miss Fortune leans back in her captain’s chair with a pretty smile painted on her –very attractive— lips.

“Now you’re talking my language, cutie. I’m sure we can work something out.”

…

On one hand, you have Gwen sewing day and night –your fault, you feel bad for it— while the rest of you handle the fighting. On the other, you do have a ship taking you wherever you need and making your job of clearing the darkness ten times faster.

Even Lucian has given you a pat on the back for that one. That was certainly unexpected.

“We need Fortune to take us here.” Senna points on the map. “Rookie, you go tell her.”

You almost choke on your water. “Why me?” you ask.

“Because you’re finally making yourself useful.” Lucian replies. Ouch.

“I’ve been very useful from the start!” you argue. The others look amongst themselves. “Hey!”

“I mean… points for effort.” Diana comments.

“Moral support is useful, I agree.” Riven smirks at you.

‘Asshole’ you mouth, rising from your seat. Her grin only widens.

You send them a narrowed, unimpressed look over your shoulder on your way out. Some of the crew members that see you walking towards the captain’s cabin whistle your way. You’re sure there’s tons of colorful comments behind your back but you have bigger things to worry about.

Like… the way a certain redhead looks leaned back in her plush chair, a queen on her throne, toying with a gold coin that flips over her nimble fingers with effortless ease. Focus on the mission. The mission, I say. Oh, Gods…

“I love how they send you in to ask for extra.” she says. “So. Are you the silver tongue of the group?” There’s something in her little smirk and the way she says ‘tongue’ that gets to you, but that’s probably just your vivid imagination.

That and the months you’ve spent without any outlet for your stress other than fighting, on top of more fighting.

“No, the others are just that terrible at basic social interactions.” It’s the truth.

Fortune gives a small chuckle. “Let’s see how good you are, then, Sentinel.”

You pleadwith your hopeless lesbian brain not to fry on the spot. “We sort of need you to get us further than discussed. While hoping that… the scenic route will be its own reward?”

“Cute.”

“Does that mean you’ll do it?” you perk up.

“No.”

“I’ll send Lucian here next time so he can bore you to death until you agree.” You never claimed to be above blackmail.

“A bold statement.” she replies. “Tell you what. If you demolish a few of my enemies’ ships during your hunt for the mist things, then deal.”

Sentinels aren’t supposed to do that. And if you tell Lucian, that will be his exact answer. You can already hear his unpleasant voice in your head. However, you’ve already figured out the world doesn’t work by the Sentinel Code, so…

“Accidents do happen on the battlefield.” you say.

Sarah gives you that slow smile that makes a certain part of you feel hot under your outfit. “And don’t bring any of the others in here to negotiate. I’d rather look at your pretty face.”

Uh.

Um.

By the time you exit the cabin, all you can think is, what just happened?

…

Combat is a rush, sometimes. As is knowing you’re getting stronger and faster by the day. You still don’t hold a candle to the rest of your group, but you can finally say you’re helping them out.

Being further up in the enemy’s face, though, is also petrifying. You see a twisted reflection of yourself in every mist wraith’s dead eyes. There are nightmares that come hand-in-hand with the experience… and then there’s physical pain.

You’ve been hurt before. Their talons can slice through even your magic-reinforced outfits. Still, every time feels worse than the last. The laceration you’re currently sporting on your side is burning like the fires of hell.

You’re trying not to scream by the time Riven lowers you onto the deck. Your vision is blurred with sweat and the tears you’re fighting to keep at bay.

“What’s going on here?” you hear Fortune’s voice in your haze.

“Tell me you have a healer on board!” Riven shouts.

“And they can get here fast!” Senna adds.

You’re not sure how much time passes. It feels like light years until someone kneels beside you and starts working on your wound. The healing magic pulls and sears at you. Every muscle in your body is taut with the effort to keep still.

“Isn’t …a healing spell supposed to numb the pain, first?” Diana asks.

“Look, blondie, I’m no professional here, ye? Just picked up a few things from mah old man. If ya wanna criticize, come here and do it yourself.” he answers. And it’s …not the best feeling in the world to hear your healer say that.

“No offense. Just worried for our teammate.” Senna adds. At least one of your bosses cares about your wellbeing.

The other just benches you for the next mission.

…

Out of all the people you expected to come see you while you’re recovering, Sarah Fortune is the last who came to mind. You’re almost shocked mute when the captain comes to sit on the edge of your bed, graceful and fluid as ever. Gorgeous as ever, too, while you’re sure you look pale as a ghost, eyes sunken as a shipwreck.

“Hey, Rookie.” she greets.

“Ah, great. That nickname’s never gonna come off, is it.” you roll your blue eyes.

“How’s the battle scar?”

“I’m not bleeding all over your fancy deck anymore, at least.” you say. “Guess I should be glad for that.” Although you are a bit frustrated that the ‘healer’s’ hand was so shaky there’s a scar left there now, permanently, when it could have been avoided. “And that the dude wasn’t drunk bad enough to stitch my organs to my skin.”

“Yeah, luckily he was only a little drunk.” she nods.

“That makes total sense for a healer. Who, from what I know from four years at the Academy, should always be sober.” you cannot keep it in any longer.

“That’s… a tall order here.” Yes, of course, the place is far too shitty for that.

“I gathered.”

“Come, now. Don’t be upset about the scar.” You’re upset about the pain that could have been avoided if the damn guy just didn’t drink his ass off in the middle of the day. “…Want me to kiss it better?”

You’re so far up your mind –filled with thoughts of being a dead weight on the team on top of your dead classmates because of Viego— you don’t even hear her. Your head is pounding from the pressure the memory causes you, a killer mix with the effect of the painkillers you’ve been on, all evening.

“I’ll be fine, thanks.” you reply, your voice hoarse and alien to your own ears.

…

You and Fortune talk a bit more on the two days you’re out of commission.

You learn a few things about her, like the fact you have a common interest in psychology. Like the fact you shouldn’t ever ask about her past or her family, unless you want her to close up tighter than a clam, at the speed of lightning. In the meantime, if it feels like she may be throwing more smirks your way than when she talks to anyone else, you blame that on your wishful thinking.

That woman is way out of your league.

It is one in the night and everyone on the ship is either well asleep or completely passed out from booze. You wake up from a nightmare, then fully register the way the ship is swaying from the angry waves. The resulting nausea has you completely losing the desire to fall back into the land of dreams.

You thought you’d be the only one awake when you walked up to the deck, yet you quickly realize that’s not the case when the sound of heels approaches from behind. You already know it’s her. The night breeze does a wonderful job of carrying her perfume straight to your nose. As if she wasn’t already fatally attractive without it.

You keep your eyes on the waves, so dark blue they look black.

“Oh, this is a surprise. Such a romantic soul, admiring the sea in the dead of night.” she says. The slight –sexy as fuck— slur to her words must have something to do with the bottle of whiskey in her hand.

“Yeah, my thoughts are not that deep.” you chuckle. “More like ‘fuck this constant motion under my feet’.”

She gives a small, airy exhale that could pass as a laugh, leaning on the railing next to you. Kind of close, too. “Ah and here I thought Sentinels didn’t swear.” she says. “And that they don’t drink. Unless you care to prove me wrong there, too.”

She takes a swing of the bottle and passes it to you. The smart part of your brain tells you it is a bad, bad idea. The rest of you is seduced by the promise of the buzz and the challenge in her eyes.

Well. Since you’re not really getting anywhere closer to where her lips are in anything other than your very private fantasies, you think may just take the chance for an indirect kiss that’s presented.

The gulp you take from the bottle –you intended a sip but the fucking ship moves so much— burns a trail down your throat and past your insides. You almost cough. How heavy is this thing?

“Ahem. So.” you begin. “What’s keeping you out late?”

“I have great company.” At first you think she means you, then you realize it’s the bottle that’s lucky. Hah, fell right into that one. “And… my cabin is very cold tonight.”

It’s really chilly, yeah, but it’s not that bad, you think. Maybe the two of you are just used to different climates, though. “I’m… sorry to hear that.” you reply.

“Well. Guess I should head in or it will never warm up by itself.” she says.

You nod and bid her goodnight, turning your eyes back to the inky waves. But then you feel her weight softly crash into your back, ample chest pressing against you, one of her hands on your waist and the other on the railing next to yours for support. Her lips are right by your ear, so close you feel them brush against the shell as she says:

“Oops.”

Then she’s gone, taking her extremely sexy perfume with her, while your stomach drops to the sea and sinks right to the very bottom. It takes a few moments to realize you’re still holding the railing so tightly your fingers have gone white.

What the…

You go back to bed trying not to think about whatever that was.

The next day, you have no idea why she’s not speaking to you at all, or why she doesn’t even look at you when she addresses the Sentinels, none-too-pleased with your progress.

…

When one of the crewmates tell you the captain has summoned you, you do a double take and ask if she really means you. Fortune has been in a weird mood towards you since that night, to say the least.

You are mentally braced for the worst when you enter her cabin. You’re already tired from fighting mist wraiths all morning and you don’t think you can handle whatever it is that’s going on with her at the moment.

Scratch that. You’re sure you can’t when she gets up from her seat, walking almost in a circle around you, like a shark. You lean back against the wooden surface of her desk, waiting. Cautious.

“Have I not been clear enough, all these days?” she asks, as if wondering out loud.

“Um…. excuse me?” you question back. Has the mist gotten to her? It has been known to cause strange behavior after prolonged exposure.

She’s at the door now, facing you without really looking at you and it makes you feel trapped. Your one escape is blocked. “You’re not from around here, so I thought it was best not to be… Bilgewater-forward.” she says. “On the other hand, I don’t think I’ve been that subtle?”

“…I’m. I’m not…sure I follow.” you speak, quietly.

“Do you really have no idea or are you just trying to be polite?” She finally looks into your eyes.

You shake your head ‘no’.

She licks her lips. “What, was I supposed to give you a formal letter inviting you to my cabin for sex the other night?” Your jaw, you think, hits the floor and shatters. Your whole body shivers and goes rigid. “If you don’t want to, just say it so I won’t wait around for nothing.”

You… don’t know what words are at the moment. The ground has disappeared and you’re a falling mess. It is the worst case of freezing on the spot you’ve ever experienced.

“That’s not… that’s not… the case.” you manage to say.

“Good to know.” she nods, casually, then strides up to you and grabs the front of your high-collared Sentinel jacket, bringing you lip-to-lip. “Is this clear enough for you?” she breathes against you.

It’s more than clear enough when her plump lips seal over yours, tasting of sweet-flavored lipstick and alcohol and sea-salt. In fact, it is clear like a nuclear bomb going off on the back of your head.

The heat wave burns down your stomach violently and it only gets worse when she pushes her tongue into your mouth, licking over yours, her hips practically straddling you with how tightly fitted you stand. Every movement of her mouth or her body echoes all the way down yours.

It’s beyond anything you could have ever conjured in your head, having her angle your chin however she wants it while her hips slowly rock against you. It’s almost too hard and too fast and too good –and you get too close.

But then—

A knock comes on the door.

“Captain?” someone asks from the outside and it’s both a blessing and a dark curse.

Sarah tries to catch her breath, every exhale tickling your ear. “One moment.” she calls over her shoulder, sounding every bit the captain she is, as if the past minutes where you were literally dry humping each other didn’t happen.

She pulls back from you with a satisfied little smirk at how wrecked you no doubt look, pulling your outfit straight. Her thumb wipes off the smudge of her lipstick on the corner of your mouth, then she goes to a nearby mirror to reapply hers.

When she walks back over to you, your knees shake at just the sight of her. You don’t know how you’ll ever calm down from this. Safe to say she’s ruined every kiss you’ve ever had or will have.

“My bedroom will be open to you tonight. Consider this your formal letter, yes?” her long fingers brush over your jawline, as she stalks back to her seat.

“Come in.” she calls, poker face on, sounding bored.

You make your escape as tactical –and dignified— as possible and don’t look back until you’re practically off the ship.

…

To say you are distracted for the rest of the hours until night completely settles over Bilgewater is an understatement. Your head is in the clouds and you have no idea what’s going on around you. The whole world could catch fire and all you’ll be thinking about is Fortune, Fortune, Fortune…

“What’s got you so quiet tonight, little Sentinel?” Riven asks.

Only the best damn kiss of your entire life. Plus the fact you’re living a dream and you don’t want to wake up. “Maybe I’m just trying to imitate Vayne. From now on you’ll hear my voice only when we kill stuff.”

“Ha, ha.” Vayne comments in typical Vayne style from her seat, hunched over her weapon and making calibrations.

“All I’ll say is, be careful.” the Noxian lowers her voice a bit, the words kept between the two of you.

“Of what?” you play dumb.

“Just in general.”

You don’t know what Riven suspects but you can’t really bring yourself to care. You’ve been through a lot these past months. You deserve to feel something good once in a while. Your love life is none of their business unless it interferes with their business, which it won’t because you’re sure this won’t mean anything beyond Fortune’s bedroom.

You wait until everyone on the ship is asleep and take a liquid courage boost to sneak to the captain’s cabin.

…

One knock. That is all your knuckles manage, one contact with the door, until it swings open and a familiar hand grabs at the front of your outfit, pulling you in.

You’re pressed back against it as soon as it shuts, crimson lips hot on yours before you can even think to say anything. Gods, is she always so insistent?You could melt into a wet puddle on the floor from the way she presses into you alone. This woman knows exactly what she wants and how to take it.

Somewhere in the back of your head you hear the sound of a lock turning.

“Took you long enough.” she whispers when you break apart.

Once again, whatever you were about to say is cut off by her tugging on the high collar of your jacket. She either has a thing for it or for pulling you around in general, you think. No complains, whatever the case.

“Won’t you give me the tour around, first?” you ask, playing coy only thanks to the drink you’ve had. Otherwise, you’d be your usual self; a mess.

“Oh, sure.” she says as she shoves you into her bedroom, illuminated by a single candle. “Wardrobe, guns, bed.”

Well. It still feels like the best tour you’ve ever had when she walks you back until you’re falling on her very comfortable mattress, with her perched above you like a predator. She gives you a little smirk as she straddles your thigh and sits up, undoing the taut buttons on her shirt, painfully slow.

Oh… It would be very awkward if you died from a heart attack now, yet it feels like you’re on the verge of one.

“Nothing smart to say now, Sentinel?” The confidence comes with her looks, you’re sure. She knows she’s hot as fuck.

You shake your head, speechless, eyes travelling from her toned midriff to her perfect chest, to her hypnotic eyes and the sensual way her hair spills like a red waterfall across her shoulders. This is a dream, it’s not real life, but don’t wake me up ever…

Fortune leans back down, taking your chin in two fingers as she studies your flushed face. You don’t know what she’s looking for, but something in her visage softens a fraction.

“If it’s too much at any point, tell me.”

“If I can talk, I will.” you say, mesmerized by the way her eyes look under the dim light.

Your next liplock is a little less rushed than your previous ones. She takes her time exploring your mouth and you gradually get bolder with where you touch her, fingers grazing up her sides to her stomach, to the underside of her bra.

Her lips leave yours only to burn a trail down the corner of your mouth, across your jawline and to your neck. Deft fingers undo the clasps and pull down the zipper of your white jacket, guiding it past your shoulders without taking it completely off. She definitely has a thing for it. You’d comment on that, too, if you could think about anything other than how good she smells.

Clothes come off while she sucks on your neck, teeth pressing against you just shy of leaving marks. When both of you are down to your underwear and breathing heavy, her fingers caressing dangerously low on your waistline, her lips come near your ear.

“So… I want to make you beg, but I can’t help but feel like I’m already corrupting you a lot.”

Corrupt away. you want to tell her.

“Does that turn you on?” you whisper in her ear and feel her response with how her hips press down harder onto yours.

“Yes.” That breathless admission becomes your undoing.

You get lost in her lips after it and the sensation of her fingers on you –inyou— working you up towards what could be simultaneously your ruin and your salvation. You touch her in turn, filling the room with both your moans and gasps, until that glorious peak of white-hot pleasure where the whole world comes to a stop for a few moments.

There is a time limit to your time together, now and generally, you are aware. But you allow yourselves a few quiet moments together as you lay there with the excuse of catching your breath, even if you already have.

Tough game you’re playing here. The smarter part of your brain says. It’s all too easy to get addicted to having her atop you like this. The better the dream, the more bitter the wakeup.

When Fortune lifts herself off you to slide under her heavy covers, you register the chill of night. You dress almost sluggishly, your body so very exhausted from the activities of the whole day.

Kissing her goodnight is almost an urge you fight under control, not wanting to make her uncomfortable if this was all she wanted out of your dalliance.

“Well, my bunk is calling.” you turn around to tell her, trying not to blush when you see her with her elbow resting on her pillow, cheek cutely pressed on her fist, watching you like a languid cat.

“Hate to watch you leave but I love to watch you go.” she smirks at you.

You roll your eyes. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

…

It is after a long damn day of fighting that you get to finally sit down and enjoy a meal and drinks.

The crew was cold and distrustful towards you at first, but they seem to have opened up more over the course of weeks –especially today, after you secured them a chest filled with gold coins left behind by wealthy people who were running from the wraiths. From the corner of your eye, you subtly watch Sarah Fortune interact with her men, hoping it’s not obvious how badly into her you are.

“So…” Riven begins from the chair next to you and you know that’s not going to be good.

“What?” You face her, playing cool.

“I’m sure you don’t need me to say that she’s bad for you… but I will, anyway.” You give Riven a blank stare that absolutely doesn’t fool her. Shit.

“Like how do you even know.” You finally break.

“It wasn’t obvious since day one there was something there?” Yeah, maybe to everyone except you.

“Wait.” Hold on a second. “Does everyone know?”

“I think everyone except Diana has pretty much figured it out.” That certainly explains the looks Lucian has been giving you all day. Double shit.

“What? The thing between Fortune and Rookie, here?” Diana asks from behind you.

Triple—

“Scratch that. Everyone knows.” Riven tells you. “And we all agree. She’s bad for you.” You hate the emphasis on that. “As in the worst.”

“I getit, Riven, thank you.” You shake your hand in her face while the other covers yours.

“I mean I know ruthless, player redheads who can and will absolutely murder you without a second thought are, like, a kink of yours—”

You don’t think your face gets any redder than this. “What—” you nearly choke on air. “That –how do you figure that out? That’s not even true.”

“Dude. When Katarina Du Couteau was brought into our conversation you nearly gasped and fangirled for the next hour.”

“I just heard a lot about one of our biggest Demacian enemies and wanted to know if it was all true!” you defend yourself.

“You asked me if she’s as hot as rumor has it, not about her war achievements.” Riven laughs.

“And you didn’t answer! Well, is she or isn’t she?” you ask. For… scientific purposes.

“I’m not going to answer that!” Riven lifts her hands up.

“She is.” Graves says as he slides into the seat next to you, drink in hand.

“Thank you!” You pat him on the shoulder.

“We should totally have her join the Sentinels.” he adds.

“Hah!” A vein pops at Riven’s temple. “And the answer will be something along the lines of ‘bold of you to assume I give a single fuck about the world’.” comes the imitation.

“Whoa, that’s exactly how she sounds like.” Graves says.

You’re glad the conversation has shifted away from you, at least.

From the opposite side of the room, you feel a familiar pair of eyes on you, yet they’re averted the second you raise yours to meet them.

…

They may know about your one-time thing with Fortune and heavily scrutinize it, but they still send you in now that they need to ask for more from the captain. With that, your teammates lose every right to comment on what you do and don’t do with her.

“We’ll get you the coin from that ship –well, Graves will, since they already hate him—and you help us out here. Deal?” you ask her.

There. You can be a professional and negotiate terms with the most beautiful woman in the world, who you also happened to have had mindblowing sex with, without constantly looking at her lips.

“Deal, but…” she begins. “You’re sitting all the way over there… why?”

So much for keeping your mind out of the gutter. “Um.” You lick your lips, unsure of what to say, while she smirks slow, like the cat that got the canary.

“Come here.” A pat on her desk, right in front of her chair.

Against your better judgement, you walk around the furniture and lean there, really, really close to her, especially when she stands, towering over you in her heels. You can tell she likes it, too.

“Don’t look at me like that, we leave in ten minutes.” you say. It doesn’t even phase her.

Her fingers move to the zipper of your jacket and although you should stop her, you don’t. “Really?” she leans closer, closer still, until her tantalizing mouth is a hair’s breadth from yours.

“…really. Nine, now.” you waver.

“Guess we have to be fast, then.”

She lightly pushes you onto her desk and starts undoing your belt buckles. The thought of what you’re about to do alone could make you come on the spot. It’s not just the thought that’s threatening to do that, when you feel her cool fingers slide right where you need them.

“You’re going to ditch me for your little Sentinel friends, who don’t like me?” she asks in your ear.

Oh, Gods…

“Ah, I like you enough for all of us, Fortune.” your lips move against her jawline as you speak. A little further down and you can feel how quick her pulse is. You wouldn’t have guessed, with how composed she looks fingering you on her desk.

“Sarah.” she holds your chin with two fingers as she says it, like a secret between you. “Call me Sarah when you come.”

You do.

…

It becomes a nightly thing after that, your visits in her bedroom.

She’s insatiable and she makes everything bothering you go away for those precious hours. But. The more you see of her, you cannot help but feel like something’s very wrong with Sarah.

Underneath the visage of the ruthless captain, the queen who can just reach out and take anything she wants, you see… cracks. She doesn’t sleep well. She drinks. You’re pretty sure you’re another distraction –coping mechanism?— although it doesn’t bother you. She’s the same for you, isn’t she?

It’s not like you have feelings for her.

…Right?

No, no that would be terrible. You definitely don’t. You are allowed to love the way her fingers are running lazy circles on your thigh right now without any sort of complicated emotions involved.

“You should quit while you’re ahead.” she tells you, half muffled into her pillow, stark black against the red of her hair.

This or the Sentinel war? You wonder.

“You have little cuts everywhere. They don’t even have time to disappear before new ones open on top of them.” she moves the back of her pointer to the biggest visible line near your knee, then up your arm, until her hand rests on the crook of your neck. “Leave the others to deal with the mist. It’s not your problem.”

“The world’s problem is my problem. Guess where I lived and what region fell to Viego first.”

You refrain from telling her how many people close to you met his blade before that. How many of the classmates you ate and trained with for four years you had to see skewered by him, on his insane quest for his ‘love’. You don’t want to sour your time together with your burdens. Your pain, your nightmares, are your own to deal with.

“If you keep going you’ll fall to him first.” she counters. “You’ll die protecting one of those idiots in your group or some random civilian.”

“Thanks, Miss Fortune-teller.” you say, a tad irked at her blatant disregard for anyone who isn’t herself.

“I don’t have to be one to tell.” she gives you a sad smile. “It’s always the good ones that die. It’s always the monsters that win.”

You can’t help but wonder…

What made you this way?

…

You see now why emotions are considered a distraction on the battlefield. Even as you kill monsters, all you think about is her.

Come to think of it…

You’ve never seen her smile for real. What you’re looking for is a far cry from those smirks she throws around to bring people to their knees, or the sardonic ones she levels Lucian with. Even those she offers you behind closed doors have a shadow underneath them. It makes you wonder about what would make her happy enough to give a genuine smile.

When you happen across a shipwreck filled with valuables, you think this may be it. The Sentinels take what they need and agree to give the rest to Fortune to stay on her good graces.

Her whole ship lights up with the joy of riches. The crew is ecstatic. Laughter and cheers fill the deck.

And yet.

Her glee is pretend, just for the sake of her men. Her eyes are hollow.

When she eventually retreats to her cabin, you follow her and knock on her door. “It’s always open for you~” she calls from the inside, already in the company of a whiskey bottle.

You turn the key behind you, then lean forward with your hands on her desk, staring at her.

“Why this serious, sexy?” she asks. “Need me to help loosen you up a bit?”

“You need to part with the fetter, Sarah.” you state. “It affects you in ways you won’t notice or understand but it always does.”

“Ah, part with it so you and your crew of misfits can steal it from me? Hmm… no.” she chuckles.

“I care more about what it does to you than the fetter itself right now.” you try again. Only to fail again.

“That’s sweet, but I don’t trust you.” Talk about words being sharper than knives, sometimes. “Don’t take it personally; I don’t trust anyone.”

“What a joyful life this must be.” you bite back.

“Coin is joy for me, sweetheart.” she leans back in her plush chair, taking another swing from the bottle.

“You didn’t seem very happy to me, back there.”

She gives you a look and finally sets the whiskey down. “Come here. I’ll tell you a little secret about me.” she says, a tad more serious than before.

Cautiously, you step around the desk until you’re in front of her seat. Her hand shoots up like a bullet, then, taking hold of your jacket and dragging you down until the two of you are eye-level.

“You know what would really make me happy right now?” You feel her leg move up the inside of yours, deliciously slow, as she speaks… until she hooks her calf behind your knee and makes your weight fall onto it. “For you to shut up about fetters and concerns and go down on me.”

Fuck.

Deep down, to a small part of you not ruled by your hormones, you know using sex to avoid any sort of deeper conversation between you is unhealthy. You know an arrangement where there’s no trust is unhealthy.

Then again, the circumstances that brought you together are anything but healthy.

And what sort of pretty flower can burst forth, really, from a corrupted seed?

…

When you return from your mist-slaying, late in the evening, the crew is uneasy.

“Don’t bother the cap’n right now.” One of the men says. “She ain’t havin’ the best o’ days.”

You later find out that they had a run-in with an enemy fleet. That the Reaver King has resurfaced and is looking to claim Bilgewater for himself. Major shit is about to go down, the bounty hunters tell you and you do not want to be outsiders caught in the middle when it finally hits the fan.

You give Sarah her space until the need to check up on her becomes overwhelming.

One knock on the door. “Leave.” she hisses from within the office like a tensed cat. Another knock. “You have ten seconds before I put a bullet through your skull!”

“Can’t imagine I’ll be very attractive then.” you reply.

The door swings open; her eyes are the epitome of a raging storm. You’ve never seen her like this, so hateful and distressed… and it hurts to witness. “My ‘leave’ applies to everyone. You, included.”

“Cool.” you nod at her. Pause. “So… can I come in now?”

Sarah throws her hands up in exasperation, pivoting with an angry, whispered ‘whatever’. She paces across her cabin, an agitated lion one step away from pouncing. Her hands run through her fiery hair as though they cannot keep still.

“You need to leave Bilgewater asap and never come back.” You don’t know if she’s talking to you or thinking out loud. “You need to go. With or without the rest of them, I don’t care, just go!”

“What’s… gotten into you?” you dare ask.

“He’s back. He always comes back, no matter how many times I sink the bastard. It’s like he cannot die. He just won’t die!” her voice is raw with her rage. “You Sentinels fight the darkness but you don’t kill evil. Evil will still be here –rooted here— even if you win.”

You open your mouth but can’t find anything to say.

“I have to win my own war. I will be victorious no matter the cost, no matter the bloodshed.” Sarah goes on. “But I need to know that you won’t be here. Do you understand?!”

You just look at her, sad and frozen, trying to understand. There’s nothing you can say to ease what’s hurting her and nothing you can do. You’ve seen this wretched thing eat away at her every day since the moment you met. It’s too deeply engraved in her heart for you to hope to change it; and it has little to do with the fetter in her possession.

Sarah crosses the room in two large strides and grabs your biceps. She looks like she’s ready to throw you off her ship herself…

Until.

She pulls you into her arms, instead.

Tight, like she’s afraid you’ll be gone the moment she lets go, she holds you close. Her head is tucked into your shoulder, her nails press hard into your back. You slowly bring your hands up to encircle her waist in return.

“I’ve lost everything. He took everything from me. I won’t give him the chance to take you away, as well.” she says.

Oh. you think. She cares about you, after all.

If only that was a good thing for either of you.

…

You feel it, when the moment comes.

Maybe you’ve always felt it and just didn’t want to admit it.

When Sarah stands in front of Viego offering the lot of you up along with the fetter in exchange for his ruined power, you know the agony you feel, like a blade splitting you down the middle, is your own doing. There is nobody but yourself to blame for it. The others warned you. Your own instinct warned you.

You didn’t listen.

You wanted to trust her. Maybe even to love her.

But her hatred runs deeper than whatever measly thing you were to her.

As the mist shrouds Fortune and turns her red hair luminescent blonde, as it eats away at her colors until they’re all black and sickly green, until the eyes you knew turn cold and unfeeling, you feel something in you crack. Maybe it’s your faith. Maybe it’s your heart.

There’s a lesson to take from this, you’re sure, despite how your emotions choke you. Right now, though, you focus on avoiding her bullets and having your teammates’ backs in the rain of chaos that follows.

You end up deep in the water, bleeding, defeated. You and the other Sentinels have never been crushed by your losses, but it will take some time to pick up your pieces and continue onward until the end of your war.

You allow yourself one scream muffled in the dark sea.

When you swim to the shore and pull your body out of the mud, you are silent.

“Are you okay? I know that was harder for you than it was for us.” Riven lays a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m fine. I’ll let it hurt after we get Viego.”

For now, you can’t afford taking the pain of a broken heart with you on the battlefield.

Sarah. You later think. Now I understand why hurricanes are named after people.

#miss fortune #sarah fortune #miss fortune x oc #miss fortune x reader #sentinels of light spoilers #league of legends #fanfiction #creative writing #riven

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