Jakob Holloway - A Flawblood Noble in the Medieval Age (Fink; Status, Dead)

Greetings, brave adventurers of this lewd realm. My twin bro (I'll leave you guessing who he is) told about this story on Chyoa that is raking up some huge winnings. And so, since I haven't written anything before, I decided to pipe in my own ideas and maybe, bask in the limelight.

My Branch will deal with a protagonist, Jakob, who finds the Affection Multiplier in the medieval times (sucker for anything middle ages here). Since it is a form changing , the Affection Multiplier would be taking the form of the oldest app there is; *spoiler*

This branch contains major theme of , infidelity and many others as time goes on. And if you are the sort of person to be offended by this label... Well, you have been warned. With that out of the way. Happy reading and stay pervy ~ F

"When I first saw your mother, I felt a thrill, one I have never felt before. I believe it was something called love at first sight" — Eduard Holloway to his son, Jakob.

On this big blue ball called Earth, lives a conundrum called Life, where one almost never gets what they want. Ask Life for something sweet, it will act like a deaf, recalcitrant child and give one a barrel filled to the brim with bitterness. Ask for a little excitement, something to make your day bright and lively. Ah, there is this age-old saying? ...Be careful what you wish for... Because what Life might give you in return, may be something that will drive you to your wits' end. Ask Life for an existence of dignity and eminence, one befitting nobility... Well, let's just say you certainly never asked to be born a bastard now, did you?

No, you didn't, but your beginning tells a different story.

Your mother was a servant, one of many in the employ of your father. You never knew what it is about her that drew him to her. She was just a lowly maid and he was a noble, a royal advisor to the king. They always say birds of a feather flock together, Nobles and peasants are like the two sides of a coin, uniquely different. But it came to pass, a night of forbidden lust and passion unfolds between the two of them. The repercussion of that moment was you. You were born on the afternoon of Harvest month. Childbearing was so severe for your young mother, that she died in the process moments later. Likewise, you never knew why your father resolved to raise you, probably out of guilt, or perhaps in her dying breaths, your mother asked him to. And in spite of the great blow to his honor and the shame it brought upon himself and his lady wife, Griselda Holloway, you are brought in to be raised in the Manor as Lord Holloway's illegitimate son, alongside his trueborn children.

Your father's rather infamous decision was, predictably met with a lot of backlash and despisal among the Nobles and peasants alike. In Albion, bastards or flawbloods like yourself were hated and ostracized like a curse and usually condemned to the forest to die. But your father's rank allowed you a reprieve from that perturbing fate. Your presence in the Holloway manor was a constant source of friction, but the patriarch was always there for you, providing you with the best of life and shielding you from the brunt of it. And this he did for a time until a terrible illness, one that not even the best physician in the kingdom could cure, struck him and took his life. He died in agony, on the night of Spring month, leaving you to the wolves

The rest of your childhood was filled with tribulations and memories not so kind. Your family, with the patriarch's influence no more, treats you like, well... a bastard, curbing your privileges. Your attendance at the Holloway's more "formal" occasions was restricted, as your mere presence tends to offend the other "nobles". You were no longer permitted to eat at the long table with the rest of the family. The people eschewed your very existence, refusing to recognize you as a highborn. On their worst days, they would spit at you in the streets, calling you and your dead mother names. Even worse, You now have to work at the Manor's ground, like a serf, to earn your daily meal and use the library where the books and scrolls are kept, as your bedchamber, simply because the true heir of the house desires your room for his personal use. These are the many moments when you have to cry yourself to sleep, cursing the luck you have.

But then, your sorrows are heard and your fate decided. For the balance must be kept, for peace to reign. And on this day, your wyrd has been ordained in reverse, ceasing to work against you. Why would it not? This is your story after all. A bold but bawdy tale of how you, Jakob Holloway, the noble bastard, will shape the course of your own destiny, with a little help from

a

Certain

That boosts relations just a tad too fast.

A/N: Anyone who can correctly guess who my brother is, is welcome to try. Also, let me know what you think of my first time writing.

(E/N: I about hit the roof when I started reading this. Fink is pretty hot stuff and has a great turn of phrase. I think y’all will enjoy this... ~W)