The Green Knight, Part 4 (2015-05-10)

The taxi which is not a taxi takes them to a tailor shop on Savile Row. The shop turns out to be a front, or rather, a cover to a secret underground tunnel which has a bullet train. She’s impressed by how unnecessarily deep the dressing room elevator goes–considering how ludicrous the Vongola mansion and the Foundation’s Namimori base are, that’s really saying something.

The bullet train brings them to what she can only describe as a giant garage filled with not only a multitude of cars, but several planes, and possibly boats. She lets the awe show on her face, spots in her peripheral vision that Galahad is smirking with good-natured pride beside her.

The Secchione Sezione specialize primarily in personal defense, gadgets more than vehicles, inventions that utilize Flames for an individual’s needs. Except for the occasional trips back to Namimori, most of the famiglia stay in Italy (vice versa for Kyouya-senpai); the aberrations to that rule are the Mist guardians (and Joshima and Kakimoto) and herself. Unsurprising, due to the shared nature of their missions.

The point, though, is that it’s not feasible to have a car, much less a plane, run on Flames. Vongola makes do with buying top of the line vehicles from whichever company Spanner disdains the least, then tweaking it slightly. They don’t have a need for a fleet of vehicles, she knows, but damn if the Kingsman garage isn’t impressive.

“Lucky for you, we ain’t late this time,” Galahad says, guiding her down a hallway, thankfully without any encroachment into her personal space.

She startles when she realizes that Arthur disappeared during her brief distraction by the garage. She hadn’t noticed at all.

Galahad politely does not comment on that, merely continues his own line of thought, “For me, my proposer ended up leavin’ a lot to chance, so of fucking course I was the last one in.”


“Well, yeah. Each of the current knights propose a candidate to get tested. We’re a little short on knights, though…”

Which means more spots to fill, but less recruits to choose from. The quality of knights would arguably decrease, at the very least they would be inexperienced. It’s a potential weakness, but if she learned nothing else from her teenaged years it’s that experience doesn’t always mean strength.

The lack of knights seems like a sore point, not one she should ask after. Not that she would need to, it’s obvious why so many agents would need to be replaced in such a short time. While Valentine’s Day triggered mindless aggression in most of the human population, for those whose wave energy had already been activated into Flames (which was most, if not all, of Vongola) it had just switched on their Dying Will Mode. Vongola Mansion spent their time intermittently experiencing extreme focus for no apparent reason–productivity for that day had been a record all time high. (Tsunayoshi-kun had finished enough paperwork to finally see the wood of his desk and actually burst into tears)

“Who is my proposer?” She asks instead, scolding herself for getting lost in her own thoughts.

“Technically, that would be me,” Merlin says, “Though Galahad was the one to think of it; a fine idea don’t you think, Azusa-san?”

Said knight flushes slightly at the praise.

She nods, she’s certainly grateful–because the alternative was to face abject boredom. That would be crass to admit, though, so instead she responds with, “Yes, Tempesta was honored to receive the invitation…”

So it’s a bit of an exaggeration for Hayato-kun. While not honored, he did see it as a good opportunity and was glad that she had agreed to it. As they measured her abilities through the trials, she could see what a Kingsman recruit went through to become a knight.

She herself would be a test in response.


A/N: Okay… so, because I’m terribly cliche, I’m thinking of calling this series The Green Knight and having the Kingsman position in question be for Gawain. Because… Lightning flames are greeeeeeeen. And she’s definitely not going to be a Kingsman agent so… mreh?

Ugh, I’m sorry this was greatly uninspired over all.

Continuation of this post. Will now tag everything in this series as The Green Knight. I apologize in advance for dirtying the tag, actual Arthurian fans 😦

The Green Knight, Part 3; Word Prompts (S31): Shaky

She hopes Hayato-kun didn’t have high expectations of her somehow charming the Kingsman, because that is just not happening. From the moment she steps off the Vongola private jet, she knows that she is not matching their imqge of her from the first meeting, much less the appearance of a prestigious Vongola guardian. She knows that she looks more like a trendy, spoiled college student than the strongest mafia famiglia’s top assassin.

She’s wearing her casual, comfortable clothes–cotton shirt, skirt, and thin jacket–which matches her preference of pastel colors and muted, but cheerful patterns. Of course, she’s also wearing her armor–she doesn’t travel anywhere without it–but it looks enough like a really shiny unitard that it really does need to be covered with other clothes.

Arthur and Galahad meet her with a taxi cab which is definitely not standard fair. She supposes she should feel honored–that the head of the Kingsman personally came to pick her up and that they respect her lethality by sending another agent along with him–but she just feels awkward. They are both wearing extensively fancy, tailored suits; she feels distinctly underdressed. The small talk peters out when she refuses the offer of alcohol (she was never much of a fan of the taste, and Shamal “infected” all of them with an anti-poison “disease” which basically made them immune to the effects) and when she struggles with the small talk (she loathes it, and she’s not very good at English anyway).

They sit in silence. She hopes Kyoko is not watching the video feed–she would be greatly disappointed.

She fiddles with the hem of her skirt. Twists her hideous Vongola ring around her finger. Softly taps the toes of her fashionable (according to Haru), practical (according to Shouichi-kun) boots. Almost reaches for the necklace which contains Yuzuru, falters when she remembers that spilling the secret of Flames out of boredom would definitely piss off Hayato-kun, then put her hands back in her lap.

“The test ain’t nothing to worry about,” Galahad breaks the silence, a friendly smile on his face.

It must signal something to his partner, because Arthur’s stoic face softens into one of almost paternal kindness, “Indeed, Ms. Fulmine, while the Kingsman trials are indeed fraught with danger, we are not in the business of killing our allies. We appreciate this show of good will from Vongola, and your own personal sacrifice in this. We are not ungracious.”

She realizes, then, what she must look like to them. She thought they perceived her as a disrespectful, informal, unprofessional mafiosa. Dangerous and high in the Vongola hierarchy, but a poor diplomat for a rather precarious alliance. But they looked at her–saw her youth, her nationality, her unsophisticated clothes, her refusal of a drink, her fidgeting. They thought she was nervous.

She could use that.

So she responds with a shaky smile, stops her tapping feet but keeps twisting her ring. It’s enough to make it seem like she’s relieved by the words, but not too much so as to be suspicious. She is, after all, a stranger in a strange land.

“Do you have a preference for your name?” Arthur asks, pulling an iPad out from a panel in the door. On the screen is what appears to be her Kingsman file (likely they have more on her than that) which includes basic information –sex, estimation of her age, eye color (which she smugly notices they’ve incorrectly listed as brown)–and a list of dates for when she was on mission within the United Kingdom. Oddly enough, however, where should be a name is instead a blank.

“What do you mean?” She says in honest confusion.

“To put it mildly, you don’t match our usual demographic of recruit–”

At this, Galahad snorts, but says nothing.

“–and while we know you as Vongola’s Fulmine, we thought you might want to keep that part of your identity private from the other recruits. It is, of course, your choice,” Arthur says mildly before handing the iPad over to her.

It is an obvious ploy to get her to provide her real name, but the overtness takes the malice out of it. If she does so, and they already have it, then it is just a minor show of trust on her part. If she does so, and they don’t already know it, then she provides them not only her history but every Namimori-born member of Vongola. In the upper echelons alone that is four Guardians, three department heads, one deputy department head, and her boss. That’s not just her–that’s Ryohei, Kyouya-senpai, Takeshi-kun, Haru, Shouichi-kun, Hana-chan, Kyoko, and Tsunayoshi-kun. That’s her family.

Not giving her real name is the obvious choice. While it might be slightly insulting and a sign of distrust, if anything it could just be passed off as part of her trepidation.

“Azuma Shu,” she says while typing. She’s pleasantly surprised that the romaji she enters offers a menu of matching kanji to choose from. It’s the name on her passport, on the rare occasions when Vongola bothers with identification. Perhaps the pseudonym is a little bit too on the nose, but it’s technically true. It is very short, only two characters long: the kanji for lightning as a given name then protector for a surname.

“It’s nice to meet you, Azuma-san,” Galahad says with a wink, not at all displeased by her noncooperation.

Slightly flustered, she does not reprimand him for the cultural impropriety of using her supposed personal name.


A/N: Do not worry! There is no romance. I just imagine that anyone, especially ones even vaguely attracted to people of the masculine persuasion, would be taken by Taron Egerton’s winking.

AAAAAAND still not at the actual trials yet.

Continuation of this post. I should probably come up with a title for this crossover for tracking purposes…

Edit: Just follow “The Green Knight” for the rest of the series… though for some reason, this post doesn’t show up as tagged with it even though… it obviously is. (Edit2: fixed the not-showing-up-thing by removing the names of characters mentioned but not actually present in this drabble)

Untitled (2015-05-08)

Harry wakes up. Of course he does. If he didn’t, there wouldn’t be much of a story, now would there? Although, strictly speaking, it would be more accurate to say that Harry wakes up three times.

The first time is little more than his eyes blinking open for a few seconds, becoming aware of the beeping heart monitor and the blandness of his surroundings. He loses consciousness with knowledge that he is alive and in a hospital. It’s enough to give him a vague sense of hope.

The second time: he tries to breath on his own, chokes around the intubation, startles the nurse, and slips into unconsciousness before he can do much else.

The third time he wakes up properly. He also startles the nurse again. He then spends fifteen minutes sullenly sucking on ice chips while a tiny doctor scolds him. It’s not necessarily a pleasant experience, but it is very informative. He knows that following: along with a gunshot wound to the head, he had three broken ribs, major kidney damage, two stab wounds in thankfully non-vital body parts, and an entire tapestry of bruises. He is the only survivor of the Westboro church massacre.

He learns a lot of things over the next few days, but not much of it particularly helpful or comforting.

From the tiny television in the corner of his hospital room he learns that there had been a similarly strange sort of massacre on an international scale. But from the clipboard at the foot of his bed he knows that he was admitted the day before. From the John Doe filled in for name section, he didn’t have any sort of identification on him.

When he apologizes to the nurse for startling her–not just once, but twice–he learns that he speaks with an English accent. He is apparently apologetic or charming enough that she forgives him near-instantly, and brings him his things. Of which includes a broken pair of non-prescription glasses, an incredibly fancy suit, a gold-plated lighter but no cigarettes, and a fountain pen. Still no identification.

From his tiny, angry doctor he learns that the local police department were hit especially hard during the Valentine’s Day massacre. Nonetheless, there is always at least one guard–not always in uniform–sitting in the ICU waiting room, in sight of his room.

This is what he knows: He is the only survivor of the Westboro Church massacre. That, in itself, was the precursor for the Valentine’s Day massacre. He does not match any of the parishioners. He is the unknown subject of an active investigation to what could be the key to figuring out what exactly happened to make the world go homicidally insane.

His name is Harry.

He thinks he might have killed everyone in that church.


A/N: So I didn’t actually get to the part that I wanted to get to which is– Harry, amnesiatic criminal with a h(e)art of gold. Okay, let me explain: I’m listening to slashreport (the podcast by rageprufrock and mklutz) and there was a fic rec for a due South fic called Chicago’s Most Wanted by Speranza.

To start–I’m not in that fandom and I actually had this idea before I read the fic, solely from rageprufrock’s description of the fic. It was something along the lines of… Fraser gets amnesia and somehow comes to the conclusion that he’s a criminal mastermind. So he becomes a really fantastic, “hyper-competent” criminal and Ray Kowalski is trying to arrest him without hurting him because… well. It’s the pairing so I guess out of love.

And then I thought: Well, duh. I would like to see a Kingsman version of this.

But not like one of the lovely dark!Harry ideas I’ve read. Which, those are great, but they’re called dark!Harry for a reason. I want one in which… Harry is still a good guy but he’s a criminal. I mean, arguably, all of the Kingsman knights, being a vigilante group and all “not beholden to governments/laws,” are criminals. But I mean… I really would like for him to be still a gentleman and still a good, noble person. Of course he’s still ruthless, but it’s not unnecessary or over the top. Like more of a Leverage type of criminal than “dark.”

What I wrote isn’t necessarily the fic I want to read, but it’s the best way I could articulate myself. So it’s slightly fourth-wall breaking because parts of it is more outlining than actual prose. Also I wasn’t sure I could walk that edge between ruthless but criminal with a heart of gold… Not that I even got to that point. I guess what I wrote was the prequel to the fic I want to read…

… Aaaaaand my author’s notes are longer than the drabble. Ugh. Also, I don’t remember what the church was actually called. This was sloppy all around, I apologize.

Untitled Kingsman drabble (2015-04-22)

The king is dead.

Long live the king.

When it’s over, the Kingsman are down a king and at least four knights: Kay and Bedivere, having followed Arthur by way of exploded heads; Tristan, poisoned when he refused to join them. Galahad’s fate need not be brought up again.

Percival, at least, is alive and decidedly not evil, though Bors and Lamorak have yet to check in–whether unable or unwilling. This week has been a fucking terrible experience for all involved. If Merlin were one for tears, he’d be crying out of rage and grief and betrayal and frustration, because of course this is what he has to work with. Of course.

The king is dead.

Long live the king.

It’s not traditional, no, but nothing good about the Kingsman has been traditional lately. The good old boys have turned out to be rotten, cowards to the core, nothing like what a true knight should be. It took two rookies–one not even a real agent–to save the world, because Merlin didn’t know who else he can trust.

But Merlin is not a knight. Merlin was never a knight. Nor was he ever a king.

But Merlin was a kingmaker. And that? That’s something he can work with.

The king is dead.

Long live the king.

The Kingsman knights had originally started as freelance agents. Tailors suddenly with the means to bring about a world of peace. Or at least the means to try. They started out as servants and raised themselves up to knighthood, gradually forgetting that nobility was a matter of character not blood.

But Galahad remembered–manners maketh man, indeed. And his proposal had embodied that ideal of nobility–a pure heart, not aristocracy.

So it twists the mythos around a bit, but who is Merlin to disagree with his old friend?

Merlin was a kingmaker. And he knows who to make the king.

The king is dead.

Long live the king.

Merlin always hated that damn dog test anyway.

A/N: Ugh, I had these ideas but they came out all twisted in prose and I don’t know how to fix it. Also, rather shorter than I was hoping, but I wanted to get it out now.

Not that I actually want it, but this is Arthur!Eggsy basically. And he, with Merlin and Lancelot!Roxy (and I wanted to somehow include a “Guinevere” in the sense that they are in charge of PR/Finance… like… they’re the ones that actually get clients? Maybe the heiress “target” right before the train tracks test) revolutionize/fix Kingsman. I dunno.

Obviously, I watched Kingsman. I retract what I said in my last post. After having fallen into the fandom my eyes are now open. While I’m still not at multiple theater-going level of love, I’m definitely in the eagerly waiting for the DVD level.

The Green Knight, Prologue (2015-04-21)

It’s obvious from the expressions on everyone’s faces that the meeting, while necessary, is only grudgingly tolerated by all involved. Even the figures standing indolently, yet alert, in the corners of the room aren’t bothering to hide their boredom. With all the similarities between the negotiating parties, one would think the meeting to be more congenial.

Seated on opposite sides of the table are the leaders of two different vigilante organizations, both steeped in tradition and wealth. Beside them are their respective advisor, their right hands as one might say, each of them doing the majority of the speaking. Behind them are two silent guardians each, and even there the similarities extend–a young man with a slight smile curling at his lips, and a young woman whose professional stoicism practically drips with irritation. And yet, the tension remains.

Perhaps it is because one of the organizations had recently suffered a much-needed change in leadership, due to the previous head having been complicit in the death of millions. Perhaps it is because the other organization had previously been a crime organization, only changing to vigilantism after their own recent change in leadership. Perhaps it is because, despite both parties having left all overt weapons outside of the room, they all remain quite lethal.

It does not help that the youngest member of one of the negotiating parties is older than the eldest member of the other party. Both of them being the only females in the room.

“We understand the need for cooperation during these times of strife, yet the information you are asking for is one that must remain within Vongola,” the young man who only introduced himself as Tempesta says in softly accented English. The accent itself is difficult to parse, which is odd considering Vongola is a solely Italian organization. He has a mildly apologetic smile, to soften what is an unyielding refusal.

His premature shock of silver hair contrasts severely against the bald head of the other negotiator, codename Merlin, though the falsely conciliatory expressions are the same on both, “And yet, you ask the same of us. Surely you see how we would appreciate reciprocity.”

“Ah, but it is not a full disclosure we ask for. We would simply prefer to know when one of your… knights are to be in Italy and their purpose. So that we can ensure our respective… agents do not end up in each other’s crosshairs. Vongola is Italian, our activities are not the concerns of foreigners.”

“And yet, we have information on a number of assassinations performed on British soil by Ms. Fulmine who herself is a Japanese citizen,” Merlin gestures respectfully to said woman who only nods in acknowledgement, not bothering to deny something obviously true and which their side hadn’t really bothered making a secret.

“All on Italian citizens, specifically, members of mafia families whose activities your Kingsman would agree to be reprehensible.” Tempesta responds calmly, though his fingers tap impatiently against the table in silent twitches.

“And we also have several accounts of your affiliated groups–Varia and The Foundation–operating within the United Kingdom,” Merlin reveals, much to the displeasure of his Vongola counterpart.

At that, the Vongola show their youth and relative inexperience. Or perhaps their impatience, worn down by the tediousness of the meeting. Regardless, the guards standing in the corners, Fulmine and Pioggia, both drop their silent routine to laugh; the former in exasperation, the latter sheepishly. While Tempesta hisses angrily at them in Japanese, something along the lines of keeping their seniors out of trouble, their leader, Decimo finally deigns to speak.

“Both of our organizations have a history–of violence and secrets. This meeting is one of a new alliance, and for that both of us must change. From now on, at the very least, we will afford you the same information on our operations in your country as you do your activities in ours,” His English, likewise, is interestingly accented–more so than Tempesta’s–though recognizably with more of a Japanese flair. Which is odd, considering the leader of the Vongola is a hereditary position. But his words state simply what the two groups had been dancing around.

“I quite agree,” The Kingsman leader, only called Arthur, nods. What little remained of the tension in room easily dissipates, despite Merlin’s disgruntled sigh. The young knights, Galahad and Lancelot, also allow their inexperience to break through in grins tinged with relief… and amusement at the expense of their Vongola counterparts still being scolded by Tempesta.


A/N: Um… I’m not sure what’s up with this to be honest… but basically. I watched Kingsman. It was… okay? Like, it was totally worth the cost of a ticket. But I don’t know if I’d go watch it again? I might buy get the DVD, but I wouldn’t watch it again in theaters.

I’m following the headcanon of Harry survived and became Arthur, so Eggsy became Galahad.

And it’s a crossover with my KHR SI!OC fanfic Trailblazers. So, Decimo is Tsuna, obviously, Tempesta being Gokudera, Pioggia being Yamamoto, and Fulmine being my OC Tetsuki.

I don’t know which canon (fanon) it is but I think Roxy (Lancelot) is 24 and Eggsy is 25? So Tetsuki who, for some reason, I never let live to see age 25 and who is a year older than the other three would be the same age as Roxy if not younger. Probably younger, though, so that it’s early in Tsuna’s reign as Decimo.

Also… not really the comeback I wanted buuuuut oh well. I hope ya’ll enjoyed the cross-posts. I’ll probably come back to them sooner or later.

Edit: Now continued (sort of) here!

Edit2: The series is now called The Green Knight… I guess this is the prologue.