TheSnarkLord

The coat of arms I designed when I was 12: A lozenge, quarterly purpure and sable, on a chevron argent three dragons passant sable. The supporters are two gryphons and underneath is the latin motto "nec cupias nec metuas"



Recent works

Recent series

  1. Words:
    2,177
    Works:
    10
    Bookmarks:
    2

Recent bookmarks

  1. Public Bookmark 18

    Tags
    Summary

    It sounds and feels like a dream. Might be one, really.

    It is summer, in the Silver Skalitz, and nothing bad is coming. Nothing looms over the village, no heavy clouds gather over the castle. Saint John’s is approaching: and with it, the shortest, sweetest night of the year. The youth in the village prepare, giddy, for games and celebrations: a bit too bold and self-assured for his own good, the blacksmith's son boasts that the Skalitz bonfire will be the biggest and brightest anyone in Bohemia had ever seen.

    In Rattay, a certain young and lonesome lord—bored to the point of madness—drinks the tales of wild village celebrations from the lips of a passing merchant like they’re the most enticing wine. And thus: he decides to sneak out, just this once, and pretend to be just another simple boy, chasing dreams and treasures in the shortest, most magical night.

    And three girls, gathering herbs, hold hands in the meadow—while the stars glimmer and twinkle, and a goat bleats somewhere in the castle, foretelling things you ought not to worry about, not at all.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    10,863
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    24
    Kudos:
    155
    Bookmarks:
    18
    Hits:
    1,505

    13 Aug 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 1

    Tags
    Summary

    “Enough!” Hans stood up, spilling half of his beer on the ground and turning to stare down at the blacksmith. “I didn’t come here to see you, I came here to have a drink and to try andspend some pleasant time in this filthy backwater of bloodthirsty bandits, and wolves, and fucking smart-ass blacksmiths without any sense left in their heads!”
    “Go then! Find yourself a wench and get beaten up by her father once he finds you for all I care,” he almost spat, but Hans was already walking away from him, flames of the bonfire surrounding his dark figure in an aureola so bright, it hurt his eyes, watery for a brief moment before he got to rub them dry.
    He needed another beer.

    ***
    Through altering the timeline of the games a tiny bit, I've made Hans and Henry attend the feast of St. John's Eve in it's full Slavic glory before they go to Semine's wedding.

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
    3,901
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Kudos:
    34
    Bookmarks:
    1
    Hits:
    297

    13 Aug 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 8

    Words:
    0
    Works:
    4
    Bookmarks:
    8

    13 Aug 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

    Tags
    Summary

    Arthur’s treehouse was the same as Merlin remembered it, all of it was. Maybe a little smaller, but then everything was, now.

    And then there was Arthur himself; and it wasn't so much that a lot had changed about him, not really, it was only that everything had lengthened and broadened and become more.

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
    38,956
    Chapters:
    4/4
    Comments:
    490
    Kudos:
    3,312
    Bookmarks:
    933
    Hits:
    93,577

    11 Aug 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 13

    Tags
    Summary

    Hans can't help it; even Henry's gentleness on his neck reminds him of the noose.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    5,830
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    19
    Kudos:
    133
    Bookmarks:
    13
    Hits:
    942

    23 Apr 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    With Henry by his side, he can do anything, through fear, through shame, through despair.