#oks-promo

[oneknightstand-if]

Allez Awakening (Interlude Adrian)

They met on the piste that day, both clad in their fencing whites, Adrian in a common silvery-gray lamé, while MC faced him down in a custom golden vest, much to the approval of Zain and Gil, with their own nonstandard colored equipment.

Salute and bow to each other. Bow to the waiting Hjördis as referee. Bow to the scattering of their fellow fencing mates, most who've stopped their own training to gather round and watch.

Gil was even giving a thumbs-up right now as he leaned against the nearby vending machine, a suspiciously bright blue neon drink in hand. Adrian swore that some of those so-called energy drinks weren't actually potable.

Behind his own well-fitted fencing mask, the world was quieter. Darker. More focused. For a brief moment, he was safe within the eye of a storm.

Despite them both being guys, he and MC hadn't shared the men's locker room. Not with the other man rushing in late from his job as a security guard once again. Not with Adrian having no reason to wait, today's planned bout partner or not.

Too strange that. It's not as if they were actually friends.

One'd think that pulling the night shift would leave them free for club activities well enough in the late afternoon, but everyone was pulling overtime, double duty, triple duty nowadays. Everyone else except him... being an independent contractor certainly had its benefits, even if taxes weren't one of them.

At least neither of them was in health care. That'd truly be a horror show.

Adrian lightly stretched, nimbly rising on his toes as MC continued to fumble with buckling his fencing mask around the low, twisted bun of his hair. He stomped down the urge to help even as Aegon catcalled, "Aaany day now!" from across the room, standing stolidly within the taped practice lines on the floor as Brenda flailed wildly at his side with her own foil.

Being beginners, MC and Brenda normally faced each other during these matches, but sometimes they seemed to mirror each other's mistakes as well. And so Hjördisoften liked to set them up against a more veteran opponent. Hence, here was Adrian once again.

Yes, he was well used to facing down MC and Brenda both. He always won, of course he did, but he could drag out the matches long enough. Lightly enough. Allow them their fair share of touches and points for practice. Dodging lightly in quartata whenever Brenda attempted a nut shot.

Again.

Even though that area was off-target in foil!

Because the only other choice there, if Hjördis was to remain acting as referee, was to let Aegon smash and barrel his way over the poor newbies, beating them mercilessly without a single iota of a thought in his head about holding back.

That reminded him too much of someone else.

And so here he was again, waiting patiently as Hjördis reached up to help fasten the velcro buckles around the far taller man. Taller than Adrian and far broader too. MC certainly looked the part of a proper guard.

"Finally!" Aegon snorted, as if he'd been the one waiting this entire time, as they took their respective spots upon the metal piste, electrical lines trailing behind them to the glowing scoreboard.

"En garde!" Hjördis once more stoutly called out. "Prêts? Allez!"

And the winning drabble for June is "The first time Adrian lost to MC in fencing (Bold/Acquaintances MC preferred, but really it’s whatever. Masochistic awakening optional.)" at 2321 words.

So... not exactly a normal fencing match here, but I'm not sure you'd get the requisite "masochistic awakening" if MC was fencing properly. You're not exactly wrestling or whacking your opponent with normal fencing!

MC going all HEMA here for... reasons.

Available for a while now on the "Rider Groupies of the Apocalypse" and higher tiers of my Patreon.

[oneknightstand-if]

Entrapment (Interlude Camelot)

The songbirds twittered excitedly upon the pale marble of his windowsill as the first rays of dawn began to seep into his bed chambers. Skylarks, whitethroats, sedge warblers... he knew the ones. Recognized the ednod who particularly relished spreading gossip and scandals, delighted in the improprieties and turmoils that wracked the lands.

Oh... twas going to be one of those days.

For the passing of a few heartbeats, Mordred of Orkney — he who would go down in history as Modredus of Logres... or was it the other way 'round? — sat up amongst the layers of fine linen, wool, and ermine coverlets as he stared blankly at the shelves of precious leather-bound books above the carved oak of his writing table, their vellum carefully thumbed-through as he burned down the midnight oil in his reading.

In a manner of speaking, that is, as only a madman would let an open flame near such treasure in Camelot of all places. And Mordred was not one of those renowned for indulging in fits of insanity within the woods.

The codices stared just as blankly back at him.

The unfamiliar page who brought his morning meal looked faintly puzzled, as if the lad had intended to arrive somewhere else entirely or perhaps had found the viands he carried suddenly changed in the midst of his short journey from scullery to privy chamber. Or mayhap a mixture of both... twas Camelot, after all.

Sweet spiced porridge with savory sops, poached and buttered goose eggs, and sliced fruit loaf with honeyed apples, all upon a delicately carved serving platter.

A fortifying meal filled with much of his favorites in vittles. As if the castle already knew.

Aye, one of those days.

And the second place drabble for January is "Mordred's POV during "Feint" (which takes place concurrently with the Chapter 2 Camelot dream sequence) at 2925 words.

Definitely a different Camelot MC & reaction to their winning the bout with Lancelot here. 🤣

Since I already know what everyone else was doing out of sight while the MC was having their dream sequence, I kind of carried on and... *squints and coughs* It's double the size of a normal drabble.

Mordred is gonna be so smug that he entrapped Maelgwn by the time Arthur gets back. And Guinevere will be informing Arthur that Mordred was having way too much fun here.

Now available on the "Rider Groupies of the Apocalypse" and higher tiers of my Patreon.

[oneknightstand-if]

Unwonted (Interlude Arthur)

"Oi, stable boy! What scurrilous mischief are you engaging in over there?"

Arthur Pendragon, High King of Logres, the Red Dragon of Britannia, and current scurrilous stable boy, whirled about in a seeming panic, readily and unwittingly slipping into the proper stuttering mien of the disguise he now wore even as his mind wrought forth and discarded a plethora of possibilities.

A familiar voice. An unfamiliar tone. Only so many had the right to enter the King's Stables. Only a scant few would dare to do so uninvited even when it lay strangely emptied of attendants as it remained presently.

Even before he completed his turn, he knew who twas that confronted him. Or rather, suspected. There was still the oddity within the intonation and the strangeness belying this manner of speech and verbiage. Twas not normal for that one to reproach others so, commoner or not.

▇▇▇▇

"Oh, tis you," Arthur nonchalantly replied, his posture relaxing, even as his eyes drank in every detail of the sight of the ▇▇▇ standing before him with an uncharacteristic playful smirk upon ▇▇ lips.

Or was it?

And the winning drabble for July is "Arthur's POV of a Lucid Dreamer Camelot MC who spends both sections with him" at 2070 words.

Remember way back when I mentioned that Arthur's internal reactions to Camelot MC flirting with him could range from "Oh, that's cute" to "Did you fall on your head?" (Pepperidge Farm remembers!)

Well, here's "Did You Fall on Your Head" MC!

A very specific Lucid Dreaming Camelot MC showing up here. One that Arthur might or might not suspect to be currently possessed at the moment. Not that you could tell in the game...

Fie upon all of you cuckoo Lucid Dreamers that Merlin now needs to teach a fifth-century warlord about air-speed velocity!

Available for quite a while now on the "Rider Groupies of the Apocalypse" and higher tiers of my Patreon.

[oneknightstand-if]

Oneironaut (Interlude Arthur)

The colors of deep space unfurled all around them. Green with the far-distant slow curl of ionized gas clouds. Blue were the nebulae filled with massive stars spinning idly at their feet. Soft gold and red, the halo reflected of older galaxies drifting in the background.

The surcoat of the man standing before them matched those latter shades, silvery stars caught within the crystalline depths of armor that idly shifted on a spectral breeze.

The recently regained memory of Camelot pricked at the back of their mind, newly excavated and smarting like a freshly disturbed scrape.

MC stared down at their hands. The ones that'd borne the bier carrying the Pair Bywyd. They still had them both, unlike Bedivere, who—

Something rumbled silently in the distance, more pressure than sound.

Something darker than the black void between the stars was once more creeping in from the edges of the heavens. Their current companion seemed unsurprised, even as he tilted a red-gold head to glance back from where they'd come.

"We dare not linger any longer," Arthur Pendragon spoke above their protests of how they'd only been here for a few short moments.

A few scant heartbeats. Only a few small words exchanged between the two of them.

"Tis always most dangerous at the Edge, where other things besides Dreamers linger. Retreat to the safety of your own normal slumber. Or awaken instead, if such should suit you, and think upon the implications of what you just witnessed."

And after saying such, the once High King reached forward, both physically and otherwise, as a jolt of awareness pressed against the back of MC's mind, a light shove to more easily send them on their way. "I shall lead them astray to—"

That was Arthur's mistake. That was MC's chance. And so, as the newly budding dreamwalker also reached forward with phantasmal fingers, with mind intent, with will as sharp as a white-burning blade, as they wrapped both hands around the king's gauntleted wrist.

The stars rushed past in a blur of rainbow-reflected hues as something roared in the distance like the collapse of a high-rise wreathed in flames.

And the winning drabble for April is "Arthur and Dreamwalker MC visit Broderick's dreams together" at 2211 words.

Finally, a normal dream. Somewhat. With a bit of a more serious business MC, who has reasons why they're lingering in the dreamworld with Arthur. Thankfully, for Broderick's sake, his socks are safe this time.

Available on the "Rider Groupies of the Apocalypse" and higher tiers of my Patreon for a while now.

[oneknightstand-if]

Tithe(Canon)(Interlude Merlin)

Hellenore faintly grumbled beneath her breath as she slogged through the marshes, lukewarm water tugging at the hem of her pure white gown, unseen mud sucking greedily at her golden-sandaled feet, as wreaths of mist hung heavily in the air, blotting out the sight of both sky and earth.

She bitterly complained about imagined gnats and biting flies, a drawback of mortal bogs and not the fair pools of Annwyn. Her bell-like tones groused over the uncomfortable dampness of her chemise and the chill that soaked her right through.

But that wasn't quite right, was it?

The water seemed to exactly match the heat of her skin, as if the fluid already belonged to her own body as much as not. Yet that particular thought only caused her to shiver all the more.

The worst part of this was the emptiness. As if the very borders of the world faded into nothingness. Which was, mayhap, an astute observation of the current state of the edge of the Veil.

No spectral birds chirped here in greeting, and no winds whistled through the moors that should leastways have sprouted a bit of heather or sedge here or there. Not even a single hair of those demanding satyrs had dared to follow her here.

One could never trust the benevolence of an ùruisg.

Still, why was she the one being sent? The chosen sacrifice this time?

And the second-place drabble for March is "Merlin tentacle smut pls🥹" at 3070 words. Vivian is judging all of you so hard right now. (And no, it's not her having tentacle sex with Merlin; don't make her drown you at the thought).

Perhaps the first smutty fanfic for Spencer's The Faerie Queene? Or maybe not; I'm certainly not checking.

Yes, somehow the tentacle smut request ended up being canon.

Available on the "Rider Groupies of the Apocalypse" and higher tiers of my Patreon for a while now.

[oneknightstand-if]

Hiraeth (Interlude Adrian)

At first, it was a fleeting fascination, merely two ships passing in the night, two pedestrians slipping past each other on the street, nothing but 'love at last sight' as Walter Benjamin once coined the term in his book about Charles Baudelaire and his poetry.

Elsewhere, far away... too late, perhaps never more, For I know not whither you fly, nor you, where I go, O soul that I would have loved, and that you know!

An encounter within the crowded throngs of a city — eyes briefly meet, attraction lightly flares, and then you part ways, never to meet again. Ah, what might've been. Ah, the doomed romance of it all!

Or so the concept was supposed to be as he watched the young man, both so familiar and utterly unknown, trundle back and forth to work, to play, to pick up random groceries from the local market.

Even if the other still remained completely ignorant of him, sitting in a coffee shop sipping at his latte, they'd already gone a bit beyond the point of one glance to never be seen again.

And the second place drabble for December is "Adrian’s observations on his first love" at 1605 words.

Yeah, no big surprises here on who that "first love" ended up being. Adrian only wishes that he'd had a kiddie celebrity crush on some famous superstar like certain other ROs that he could've spent the drabble cockblocking gushing over instead.

Fine, MC. Enjoy your roundabout love confession extended version of the canon interlude from the game.

Now available on the "Rider Groupies of the Apocalypse" and higher tiers of my Patreon.

[oneknightstand-if]

Volition (Interlude Merlin) (AU)

The ground quaked beneath them, sending the rest of the group reeling, scattered to the four corners of an abandoned street whose asphalt split and ruptured as if the very earth sought to swallow them up. Dangerous footing for the others, where a wrong step could plunge them to their doom.

A mere annoyance to Merlin, who was not bound by such frivolities as gravity. Even as MC stayed warily by their side, crouched down to retain her precarious balance upon the bucking pavement.

Something was cresting. Something that ought never to exist in this world. Still, the seals held, what little of them remained, fraying away into nothing for these past thirty years. The Otherworld should arise, its Veil tumbling down, before Hell would be allowed to sink its putrid fangs into the Earth.

Until the other side bared its own maw from the Heavens.

A rusted vehicle — classic Fiat 500 from the 1970s, someone else's memory informed them  — hovered slightly in the air, faintly surrounded by a nimbus of green, until ▇▇▇▇▇ strode up and cleaved it in half with a fiery gold-hilted sword, stooping to offer a hand up to the cowering Gwen.

"This city is lost. We should retreat to the banks of the lungotevere and regroup with—  oh, for the balmy love of the forsaken gods!" Merlin exclaimed as Percy and ▇▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇ raced past them, back into the shadows of a tumbling basilica, while stone crumbled to ash all around.

"Still ngam... there's still a chance if we can kill the original spellcaster, is it?" ▇▇▇ said, a flash of iridescence and white bone in her hands taking the form of a sword that belonged to someone else, even as ▇▇▇▇ tossed a silent thumbs-up behind him.

This is what came from consorting with 'heroes', as Merlin should well know by now. Although they distinctly remembered that she was supposed to have more sense than him back then.

Merlin turned, a pivot that had nothing to do with physical form nor the corroded laws of the mortal realm. It shook through the fabric of reality itself.

Something was coming. Not the Princeps Inferorum who slavered to take the Earth for themself, but something dangerous enough. After all... only two Riders of the Apocalypse yet walked the world.

For a nonexistent heartbeat, exhaustion pressed its heavy hand upon them, as ever-present as the eternal watchful eye of the negligent Almighty. They had cast off so much already. A feeling that manifested not one whit in their pristine form mirrored in the gazes of their companions.

They reached, nothing but intention manifest, and lifted. Gwen yelped in dismay, perhaps seeing more here than their other companions, as  ▇▇▇▇▇ merely squinted over at them — or where they would appear to be — in appraising calculation, while the two ▇▇▇ were forcefully reeled back from the jaws that erupted like an unending tunnel at the edge of the boulevard.

And at their side, MC merely smiled, hair whipping within the storm of their passing. Simply smiled, while the sight of a pale woman with wild silvery hair flaring around a perfect visage only touched by the faintest shadows of tiredness reflected in her eyes, as she shoved, her own will made manifest.

"Get to safety," MC's silent lips mouthed the words.

Shoved Merlin, and thus everyone else, a few stuttering steps away, as the walls of the time bubble rose to the uncaring heavens.

And the second-place winner for June is "Romanced!Merlin's POV as Serious/Sweet u_hero High Magic MC traps themself and a powerful enemy in a time bubble in order to buy the others time to escape. (Merlin is exhausted and unable to intervene) " at 1905 words.

AU not only because of taking place so far forward in time, but also because Merlin would probably be dead before they couldn't pop a time bubble in this sort of situation.

Merlin: You underestimate my power! (✿｀д´)9

Available for a while now on the "Rider Groupies of the Apocalypse" and higher tiers of my Patreon.

[oneknightstand-if]

Lovelock(AU)(Interlude Gwen)

"Welcome back to all my Chill & Thrill Seekers to a very special Valentine's-themed livestream. Starring moi..." Gwen's flawlessly practiced greeting was part giggle and part trill as she twirled a fair tendril of hair around her fingers, dipping her head in acknowledgement and giving a flirtatious wink at the carefully placed webcam and the unseen audience waiting beyond.

"...and with special guest star, the vivacious news reporter, the legendary streamer, the famous amnesia victim, MC coming right at you! So glad to share this V-Day collab!" she continued.

"Hey, hey, hey, glad to be here! And all my Valentine's Day love goes out to any of my normal viewers who might be tuning in today. I've been missing all of you these past two weeks!" MC leaned in close, flawlessly positioning herself within the camera's focus.

The other woman's raised hand and perfectly arched fingers completed the heart sign that Gwen was flashing at the screen as the sounds of metal striking stone faintly floated out of the darkness behind them. "Although, uh, Gwen, you doing some background checking on me or what?" MC asked.

💖💎sir_simps_alot: Gweeeeen! We haven't seen you with the other Chill and Thrillers for so long!

twitchy_twitcher: WTF is this bitch MC? What happened to Arthur?

💝pffffffffffft: Obv dumped his ass after he made a fool of himselfd on stream

🔋angel_lover: hey waitaminute i thought mc was dead?

And one of the tied-for-first-place winning drabbles for February is "Streamer!MC and romanced Gwen holding a 24-hour Valentine's Day livestream where they are lovey-dovey while the rest of the Harbingers have to fight off demons in the background" at 1963 words.

Not the first time Gwen has been the POV of a drabble, but it is the first time that she's been the focus of one; thus, I had to create her official banner for it too (that will later appear in her in-game Interlude as well).

Now available on the "Rider Groupies of the Apocalypse" and higher tiers of my Patreon.