#floris

day 203 / IM DONE

WITH SCHOOL!!! LETS GO

- Ja

- Nee

Favetober day 2

Floris! Old as balls Dutch tv series about a young nobleman knight and his friend Sindala who have all kinds of cool adventures set during the Guelders Wars, around early 16th century in what’s later gonna be the Netherlands. Lots of fun fights, schemes and pranks in a kind of Robin Hood/Lupin kinda way, and when I rewatch it sometimes I’m not surprised that I still like similar stories and characters today haha

In the spirit of all the tumblr posts where the ops are replaced with characters from some media, I present to you my take on characters from Metamorphosis of a Soul by @felyas-stuff on Tumblr, based on this thread:

https://www.tumblr.com/durnesque-esque/813596365781417984?source=share

Aerith heard the whisper. The one that haunted her home quietly. The King was dead. She refused to believe it. Her soul would have fractured, they were so closely intertwined she would have felt him departing from her. Only when Gilgamesh stood before her and bowed his head to the ground for forgiveness would she listen to such heart-wrenching words.

She was naïve to think that her worst battle would be to keep the rumour from reaching their eldest. Lykos was but an infant, Floris was still a toddler, but Aster was an age where she was beginning to understand that the Lifestream was full of souls that had once been living people like her.

She wanted to spare her daughter from heartbreak.

Now, such a want felt foolish. One that was coloured by her own inexperience of the world.

The knot in Aerith's chest tightened. By the time the warnings of an attack reached her, it was too late. No extra forces were there to protect them. No hidden passage to secret away the royal family. All she could do was gather up the children and hide herself in the deepest reach of the castle.

For the first time, the throne room felt sinister. Her husband's seat of power had become a temporary fortress, where cries of pain and angry yelling echoed around. Her feet shuffled further from the groaning, splintering doors as though a small extra distance would matter.

What was she supposed to do... how was she supposed to do this alone... her hands subtly trembled as she scooped all three of her children closer. If she retaliated... she had to be certain she could take a large portion of men at once, else they would absolutely drown her... this was her only chance to spare the children.

Another man's attempt to steal a kingdom never involved the heirs of the current King.

The chaos that flooded the throne room was surging and violent. It crashed into her so hard that she almost toppled, instead she twisted and curled over, an attempt to bodily protect Lykos, and to shield Aster and Floris. Golden cuffs clattered, pulled from her hair, the laurel pin holding the fabric at her right shoulder was stolen away, her layers pulled at, attempting to unravel, 'hold her down, hold her down'.

Water began to gather on the floor all around. It rippled when Aerith sunk her teeth into a hand that grabbed Lykos' head, almost surging to life in a violent spell — but in the moment she defiantly stared, waiting for a blow to her face in retaliation, she caught glimpse of a whisper of blue.

For a brief moment she thought Aster had cast something, but then it exploded with a spear from the King's armiger. That stirring, rising water around the royals calmed, carrying a small river of fresh blood as it washed away.

Aerith's hand sought for Aster, shoving her face against her, making her daughter blind to what was about to happen. It was an onslaught. As though every weapon of her husband's armiger attacked at once, though the only time she flinched was when a sudden blue cloth swept around and encircled her.

She drew a breath... but that tense feeling of panic drained. Oh, Somnus. She knew him even if she were blind. Her body subtly leaned to his, her grip on Aster and Floris lessened, relaxed, no longer desperately clawing to keep them in her grip. They were safe. They were all safe.