#and then i touched the sarcophagus and got us all killed

[the-potato-beeper]

hello dearly beloved mutuals (and other friends)! does anyone have any beginners tips for Baldur's Gate 3? i am struggling a bit, and would appreciate any help y'all can give!

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Danny Phantom doesn’t want to be king.

And the Observants also don’t want him to be king.

Frankly, very VERY few people want him to be king, dead or alive.

But opening the sarcophagus, even if it’s closed NOW, disrupted some magic protections. Until those can be fixed, summoning spells need to be answered by SOMEONE. Not all of summons, just like—once a month or so. Because if they don’t let that power outlet happen, all of those summon magics build up and suddenly Pariah Dark reigns again. Answering the summon basically dispels the built up magic, like opening a dam.

Again, Danny doesn’t WANT to do this either, but everyone else involved is a bad choice. He won’t even be named prince, because THEN that implies he COULD be king. He needs a title, of some kind, a position in the court, no matter how tenuous, so he can do the thing. Something where no one in their right or even WRONG mind would think to try to kill him for the position or try to marry him or something equally annoying to deal with.

So.

He becomes the Ghost Court Jester.

He even gets a fancy little outfit upgrade when he’s summoned, all black and white bell hats and shoes, a stupid little ruffle collar and black parachute pants, even face paint with a tiny dot of glowing neon green at the tip of his nose. The works. Better yet, if he hasn’t been ‘unsummoned’, his human form is just the exact same costume with swapped colors. He can change into his normal outfits, but until that circle has been disrupted, the next summon, or the next full or new moon, he’s stuck into the outfit when he first transforms from either form.

The Phantom Jester, which is a title more intimidating than Danny appears to be if we are to be honest, cracks jokes and never, EVER takes the summons seriously.

“Listen, I just had to get my hours in and it’s the last day of the lunar month, you got lucky I came at all.”

“I got the position by virtue of not wanting to go to Time Jail for a crime I technically didn’t commit and technically probably won’t but, well, eyes are the beholder of the grudge or something else equally cryptic to make you mad.”

“Is this a slumber party? … do you have cake? Bummer. Well, enjoy the bleeding walls then.”

“Whether I help you or not is entirely dependent on how well of a run down you can give me on this book I have to read that I have not at all touched.”

“Explain the reason in three sentences or less. I suggest less. And if it’s stupid I’m hitting you—oh you think this circle can contain me? Haha. It won’t.”

“Is that chicken blood? Why?? What did the chickens do to you?”

There are props in his costume but he literally never knows what he’s gonna pull out of his sleeves. Danny can’t even do a balloon animal and knows exactly zero card tricks, which would be more of an issue if the cards weren’t the size of a dinner plate. He barely even juggles and he’s honestly probably just utilizing his rarely-used telekinetic powers, but he does give people flowers if they haven’t been a total jerk. And if those flowers are like, rare and have seeds for propagation, well… he literally wouldn’t know. No, really, he doesn’t. He gets summoned by at least two ecology departments and he has no idea why, I mean, if he had a nickel—

He also had pies and is NOT afraid to use them.

[theglamorousferal]

So if you’re new to the Danny Phantom fandom whether that be because you have joined us via a crossover, the new graphic novel coming out or just somehow got hooked into this fandom there are a few things you should know.

90% of content you will see is purely fanon lore.

I’m gonna divide this into two different sections, going over what is canon and then the most common things from fanon.

So if you go by the show, we have at least three different kinds of ghosts. We have ones like the Fright Knight who is a spirit formed from the feelings and beliefs of people surrounding the thoughts of Halloween and we have ones who were once humans like Sidney Poindexter and Desiree. There are also some who are the product of two different ghosts like Box Lunch. We technically also have the Ancients, but we don’t know anything about them except that they existed many years ago and then they enclosed Pariah Dark in the Sarcophagus of Forever sleep.

We know that a high concentration of ectoplasm introduced very quickly can causes human to turn into a half ghost. This happened with Danny at least 3 times, and the accident Vlad had (as well as Jack in an alternate timeline). Danny was changed twice by the portal and then once by being blasted by a bunch of ectoplasm.

In canon, the Fenton parents are very loving parents with just a bit of absent mindedness to them that leads to them missing the obvious signs that something is up with Danny. Every time in the show that he is exposed to them, he is accepted by them entirely. Even when in an alternate timeline where his parents never got together, he is accepted by them.

In canon, Jazz started out not knowing how to help Danny, Tucker and Sam, but it is shown in the show that she trains to be better later on. She still calls the ghosts by things she designated them as though, not how they would like to be called.

In canon, Vlad is awful. He regularly tries to Hamlet the main character. He tried to ruin/kill Jack to get with Maddie and make their kids his kids many, many times. He cloned a child, gaslit the clones into thinking he cared for them and then planned to melt them down to have his “perfect son”. In canon of the show, Vlad is not redeemable. (This sorta changes a bit in the graphic novel, but it’s a toss up whether that is actually considered active canon or if it’s its own canon now.)

In canon, Tucker is a genius after he was forced to sit through 12 hours of study programming. In canon, he is the reincarnation of a Pharaoh. He can speak a made-up language, Esperanto, and can hack into nearly every piece of tech he comes across.

In canon, Sam is obsessed with all things goth and so has tomes about magical beings and artifacts. She is athletic and is always ready to throw down. She only has plant powers in the episode “Urban Jungle”.

Now onto the Fanon, at least the most popular headcanons that I have come across.

The most common thing among the fandom is that Danny is half-dead. Some have him a ghost possessing his own corpse. Some have him be Schrodinger’s boy. Some have him have lower vitals or just no vital signs altogether. He is said to have died and not come back all the way or right. Common things have him be cold to the touch, a lower heart rate, and him forgetting to breathe entirely.

Probably the second most common headcanon is that Danny is the Ghost King after having fought and defeated Pariah Dark in single combat. Ways he takes the throne are varied, everything from him being forcibly put onto the throne and unable to go to the human world, to having to name Jazz or Maddie as regent until he reaches either human or ghostly majority, to him taking the throne but it being more of a figurehead thing. Most stories will have him have a plethora of titles and names he goes by. Along with this he now has a lair inside the Zone, most have him taking over Pariah’s Keep and some do have him have his own new lair.

Another popular headcanon is Ancient of Space or the Balance Danny (going with AGIT, the balance actually is now canon). These lead to things like Danny having an eldritch form. Something that is obviously “other” and hurts to perceive.

Both of these result in an OP Danny and probably around half of them will have him stuck at 14 and/or functionally immortal.

Another very common DP headcanon is Bad Fenton Parents and that their research caused the GIW’s formation. Alongside that come the most common type of fic you will come across which is where Danny has been captured by either the GIW or his parents and then is vivisected. Majority of them will have him vivisected by his own parents. Many of them will have them be varying levels of neglectful, from just not noticing things about their kids to straight up forgetting they were there and Jazz having to take care of them both.

In most fanon, the GIW are actively trying to genocide an entire species. This is closest to a canon thing considering that they did try to nuke the GZ, which would have resulted in their universe also collapsing. The things that some people write/draw for the atrocities the GIW and Bad!Fentons are things that I bring up to my therapist frequently. Be prepared for descriptive gore.

There are a few characters that have spawned in fanon that are widely accepted as canon characters now. The main one is Wes Weston along with his brother Kyle. Wes Weston was a background character that we see for about 3 frames in one episode, but he looked similar to Danny and had green eyes and the fandom latched onto that. It started out with someone claiming the A-listers would think that Wes is Phantom because he’s athletic, had the same build and green eyes. From there, the fandom has decided that he also is the only person to figure out that Danny was Phantom and tries frequently to expose him. Kyle Weston is Wes’ older brother, in the same class as Jazz and he doesn’t believe that ghosts are real and is played for gags a lot.

Another major piece of fanon lore is ghost cores. This stems from a remark Frostbite said talking about Danny’s core temperature and the fans took it and ran with it. In fanon there’s all kinds of different types of ghost cores, usually an element or an aspect of existence. Many have Danny possess an ice core, in some he has a space core. Others take his “death” into consideration and believe him to have an electric core. Commonly people have Vlad have a fire core. Usually cores are an orb that a ghost can retreat into to heal. If the core is shattered, the ghost is ended and no longer exists in any capacity.

Similar to cores is obsessions. These are essentially the purpose of the ghost, their drive and purpose. Skulker’s is hunting, Ember’s is recognition etc. Most give Danny a protection obsession, but will sometimes give him a space obsession.

Something that has gained traction in the last few years (to my knowledge mostly since the pandemic) is liminality. Liminality is where people are contaminated with ectoplasm due to overexposure or ingestion of it and it gives them ghostly abilities. Different people have liminality give people different abilities. Some have glowing eyes, lengthened canines and pointed ears. Some have enhanced senses, strength and speed as well as extra durability. Some have eyes that reflect like a cats and night vision. Some even go so far as give them at least one of the major ghostly abilities.

How someone becomes liminal differ depending on if the writer wishes to have it just be main characters or if it’s the entire town. If it’s just main characters then usually their frequent exposure to ghostly things as well as close proximity to it makes them liminal. For the whole town people will usually have the portal give off essentially radiation or when the town was pulled into the GZ be the cause.

Frequently Sam, Tucker and to a lesser extent Jazz are given extra abilities. Sam usually has residual powers from her time possessed by Undergrowth, Tucker usually has some form of techno Nancy and Jazz usually has some sort of empathetic ability, if not that she get’s the basic extra strength, speed, durability and senses.

There are some lesser known ones that should at least be mentioned in case you come across them. One of those being ghost hunger. This is where ghosts or liminals thirst for ectoplasm similar to how vampires thirst for blood. Another common thing is that ghosts socialize by fighting. That most of the fights are ghosts greeting the baby ghost. The last thing is that the main characters are known as Team Phantom.

I’m probably going to think of more later and I’ll post when I do, but this is the basics that I could remember on the fly. I hope this helps people!!

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep1 Musings - Looking for Home: Louis, Claudia & Daciana

They flip between siblings and parent so much even I was getting whiplash--no wonder Lou's confused. U_U

This was EEEEEEEEVIIIIIIL, AMC! 😭 Louis carrying Grace's wedding portrait, and using it to FAKE his identity in Europe, after Grace couldn't even go to Europe for her own honeymoon cuz Paul died--STOP IT! 😭😭

And you can hear just a few quick seconds of the DPDL lietmotif that always plays for Grace, Paul, and sibling!Claudia, before it takes this SUPER dark and ominous tone--the song has been tainted, just like Lou's relationship with Grace and Claudia was tainted.

Go AWF, Claudia!

And then she finds ONE, and it was so heartbreakingly touching.

I was hoping she was Alessandra, but nope, she's an AMC!OC, Daciana. I'm assuming they were nodding to one rando revenant:

And she is obviously the same "Anna" the kids were singing about--(very Gaunter O'Dimm of them, I love it 💀)--living like frikkin Baba Yaga in a grimy castle in the woods.

Daciana killed her own fledgling after Claudia blinded him--after the revanant AND Daciana attacked them first, but whatever. Cuz she said he wouldn't be able to hunt/feed with no eyes--so it can't heal; her fledglings are too effed up. She's officially the last one in the area.

And I get it now--the bear(?) head Claudia breaks off of the dead vampire's sarcophagus was a heraldric figurehead. Claudia showed it to Daciana, as a way of asking her who that dead vamp was.

She didn't want to tell them her story or hear theirs--but she wanted them to know about Cezare Romulo (RIP). (It's crazy how in 5 minutes The Vampire Daciana was way more effective than a whole hour of Dierdre Mayfair. 🙄😒) She complimented Claudia's blood, saying it tasted like the cream of the crop. Daciana only told them her name, and that she was waiting for her children--fledglings or real ones, who knows (I bet both).

Only for Daciana to kill herself right in front of them (RIP). 😔🔥

This is so sad, but it was obvious she was gonna do that.

Stop teasing the Children of Darkness after this Alessandra fake-out. She's got the same darkness in her that Nicki (AND Louis) had. And we know where that means. 🔥💀🔥

These vampires are STARVING--hungry for family, love, home: LIFE.

So is Claudia! 😭😭😭 She wants a blood spouse! She wants a companion!

So I LOVE that Morgan clocked Louis on Grace's photo--that ain't yo wife! The gaydar was beeping the second your pretty arse walked in!

Like, it's been established that Louis is a terrible liar-you don't need an investigative journalist to figure that much out. Louis is TOO honest--he was dumb AF for telling Morgan his real name! I get why he did it in the book--again: desperate to make a connection.

But on the show it comes across way different--Louis almost immediately tells Morgan his name (he doesn't do that for Emilia, even though SHE called him pretty! Istg I was picking up some flirtatiousness with Lou & Morgan; put those pheromones AWAY 😂). But you come across MIGHTY SUS if your Black arse is going around switching identities on all these twitchy Europeans, Louis!

Like baaaaaasicallllllyyyyyyy!!! 🤦 You see them shooting up corpses just to make sure--you think they won't shoot YOU!?!

Anyways, it's so cool that they made Morgan a photographer--so is THIS why Louis starts taking photos!? 🤩📸

Cuz I've been wondering how Louis makes money in Paris so they don't have to pickpocket anymore?

I love that they included this.

No matter where they go, they have to pose as Black servants and maids and VALETS and SLAVES, white folk are the same regardless of the country.

Which was an interesting parallel with Daciana, and how much they were hyping up America.

She was clearly nuts, but smart & sane enough to realize that 2 (two!) Black vampires had fled their oh-so-great "land of the free" to come to HER busted AF blown up war-torn country, so why should she expect to have any happiness over there?

I don't know a lick of Romanian, but I wonder if the "another one" she was referring to was the soldier, or the country. As Daciana realized that no matter who she made her new fledgling, and no matter which country she ran to, she'd be alone & unhappy without the people she loved--her HOME.

Home is where the HEART is! Claudia's been homeless this whole time! Daciana's got that huge castle, but lives all alone--she can't make proper fledglings. Meanwhile Louis still thinks NOLA is home, even after they killed everyone who knew them--"including" Lestat!

*sigh* I hate this effing show, it's so dang good. 😭

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts no. 16

Phantom rubbed his temples in a vain attempt to make his growing headache disappear, "So you're challenging me?"

The new ghost- a vigilante- who was fully convinced he was an evil tyrant and wouldn't listen to anything he said confirmed, so Phantom got up from his throne intending not to hurt the guy too badly and send him home. Unfortunately, Phantom made the same mistake that all his own enemies made in the past.

He underestimated his opponent.

This was how he found him self laying on his back staring up at 'Robin' in a daze with a slave collar around his neck. Robin explained the collar was the only way he could activate the "Right of Conquest" without killing Phantom and remove his power at the same time. This would prevent his allies from being too mad with him and essentially turn Phantom into a battery for the new king to feed on. The former king really wasn't sure if the guy was being smug explaining things to him that he should already know or if he knew that Danny definitely didn't know this because he never had the time to learn every little detail about the world he lived (resided?) in. Either way he was semi greatful for the explanation as to why he was suddenly powerless.

After that Phantom was more or less forced to follow Robin around the castle and keep as a sort of "show of victory" or whatever. Danny made sure to stand tall and dignified despite it all. He wasn't sure what the birdie was thinking, but the people gasping, whispering and glaring at him instead of the supposed evil king behind him may have tipped him off that something wasn't quite right.

Phantom couldn't really bring himself to blame the guy, the people that manipulated him where warlords, cult leaders and conquers who were known for tricking people into doing thier dirty work and making themselves look like saints while doing it.

The coronation was scheduled surprisingly quickly. It was no surprise that the Observants and other rotten politicians liked this new king, but not for the reasons the kingling would have thought. Robins temper would be a justifiable reason to lock him away in his own sarcophagus Pariah Dark style if he acts too violently so he would need to reign in his rage if he wanted to survive the political storm coming his way.

Danny curled up in the corner of his (now former) bedroom as Robin began inspecting the room for traps. The former king pointed out what few traps he had willingly and told the bird how to disable them. After Robin was satisfied he seemed to be preparing to change and go to bed, "You are dismissed."

Danny didn't move, fully intending to sleep right there on the floor.

"Tt. I said you are dismissed."

"Theres no where for me to go. I destroyed the slave quarters early on in my reign. I never planned on using it. I only have three servants quarters and all of them are occupied. They also don't have the the protections that the slaves quarters or the royal chambers would have."

"Why would you need protection? You are my property now. No one is allowed to touch you."

"That won't stop them. These people are monsters and I took away thier victims and punching bags. I took away thier control over the masses and thier ability to torture the other souls here. They'd do anything to get thier hands on me in this state." Danny shuddered at the thought.

Robin gave him a look, as if he knew exactly the types of things these sickos would do to Phantom if they found him alone and unable to protect himself. "Whats stopping you from attacking me in my sleep?"

"The collar for one. I can't harm you thanks to its precautionary features. I wouldn't want to anyway. Deafeating someone in ritual single combat is not the same as outright murder. I wouldn't get the crown back. I wouldn't want to kill you anyway. As I've stated before, those people are angry with me and would do anything to get thier claws on me. If im caught without you to protect me...let's just say I'm better off not being undead anymore.

Robin grimace, weather it be from the reality of the situation or the wordplay was anyone's guess but in the end the new king allowed him to stay. He even threw Danny a pillow which was way more than he expected. He thanked the other teen and they went to sleep.

Danny awoke the next morning to his king brushing his teeth (an unnecessary task for the dead) in the ensuite bathroom. Danny had kept a whole bunch of spare hygiene products in there for his friends and his living form if he chose to stay in it long enough for it to be needed. Robin seemed to have no problem using them as he came out smelling like mint and Dannys strawberry shampoo.

Sitting up he realized he was drapped in one of the spare quilts he kept in the closet. Did...did Robin go looking for a blanket to cover him up? That was kind of him. It was in this moment he decided he officially liked this guy. Danny took his turn to shower and brush his teeth. It was to clear his thoughts and had nothing to do with the glare his king sent him after Danny had put the blanket away. Had he done something to offend him? All he did was thank him for the blanket.

Later in the day Robin met with a few of Phantoms old allies and Phantom set the record straight about the vicious rumors going around about thier new king. Phantom told them in front of Robin that he was trustworthy and he was lied to and that was the reason Robin ever fought him in the first place. Danny asked them to help Robin as he was in danger of being set up to look like a new tyrant and not to tell anyone anything about Robin until after he's officially crowned king as that might scare the Observants and the others into delaying the coronation or trying to come up with a new scheme to stop Robin from taking the throne.

Once they succeeded and Robin was officially King birdy summoned all the people Phantom had told him about, the tyrants. The Observants, the evil lesser kings, and once he had them all in the same room he slaughtered them. All of them. Without mercy.

Damian grinned, fangs sharp and blade outstretched. Thanks to Phantom and his collar he now had the power to destroy entire worlds with one hand tied behind his back and he knew it

Somewhere in his home dimension, Bruce got a chill down his spine, Tim felt the overwhelming urge to hide, and Thalia was filled with a sudden pride for her dear son.

[patheticmenscuffle]

i was writing some gilear propaganda but he is so pathetic that there was so much and my phone died so here are the greatest hits

-last night he couldnt get to sleep so he tried to jack off last night but was too sad so he stayed up all night eating expired yogurt

-his car got repossessed by the rideshare app he works for

-the most divorced man in the realm. cucked in his first marriage by a demon from the nine hells called gortholax the insatiable who was trapped inside a ruby at the time

-passed over for guidance counsellor at his daughters school for a drug dealing werewolf named jawbone

-jawbone was objectively better at the job than gilear ever would be. and also later got with his ex-wife

-(trying to talk to a woman hes interested in) "sklonda i'll level with you: i recently found out that one of my shoes is so filled with mildew from a leak in my apartment that i have this new kind of foot fungus, and my doctor says..." "thats a nat 20 charisma?"

-gortholax the insatiable later got with sklonda also

-got hired as the lunch "lad" instead. his daughter fig set up a tip jar to try and boost his moxie but all he received was written cruelty

-somehow became vice principal

-soon fired as vice principal and demoted to "intern" on fig and her friends' spring break quest

-"gilear do you want some elven whey bread?" "ah, no id better not i cant afford it." "im giving it to you, its a gift." "i know, but if i eat it then ill remember how it tastes and i wont be able to get any of it later"

-died no less than 4 times on said quest (maybe more i cant remember)

-the first time was after having his face used as a launchpad by his stepson fabian to get advantage on an attack roll. fabian "got advantage from jumping but also got disadvantage, cause its gilear, so it cancels out"

-fabian wants to kill him. his mother (gilears girlfriend) makes gilear sleep in the garage

-the second time was upon taking ambient damage from a rain of hellfire immediately upon following his daughter to the nine hells ass moral/legal support

-the third time was after a sarcophagus he was hiding in was shot from a canon

-last time was when he clipped the tip of his penis putting on the armour of the sin of pride. he almost survived because he has no pride but then he started feeling good about how he was doing and immediately died and his body was spat out naked into the forest of the nightmare king. hes hung btw

-(unprompted) "mm, this yogurt tastes exactly like potatoes!" "gilear thats potatoes" "what?" "youre eating mashed potatoes" "ah.. another 'own goal' for gilear faeth..."

-got all jammed up in the wheel well of a van while "trying to do a little trick for himself" and let his bare foot touch the morning dew while reversing very slowly and eating an apple at the same time

anyway. gilearsweep!!

God they're really jsut throwing this poor fuck into the washing machine over there huh?

-Mod Knight

[filterpermanentlyattached]

...And the Rise of Chaos

Have I just been rewatching Seasons 1 & 2 until I had time to sit down and get my thoughts together? Yes, yes I have. 

I think we all can agree that given Ezekiel’s movie expertise, he would have been yelling at the dude going to open the sarcophagus. You just don’t do that. 

Way ahead of you as always. First of all, all the Librarians working together is a recipe for chaos itself if not just a bit of drama. I think it was really funny that Ezekiel pulled up and then just automatically slid over so Eve could drive. Why not let the baby drive? He’s plenty old enough. I feel like I need a dramatic Ezekiel driving backstory. 

I love Eve training Jake. She’s got 4 Librarians, she needs to know that they can hold their own or that if they need a secondary protector, not including Flynn, one of the LIT’s are capable. 

That poor janitor. 

Alright, I’m just going to take a moment to appreciate the new look Ezekiel has going on. Shorter hair, closer fitting shirt, he looks amazing. Go ahead, say it, we’re the best team you’ve ever seen.”  They are a pretty phenomenal team, whether Jenkins says it out loud or not. “You’re mothers did not hug you enough...”  you know what, you’re probably right on that one Jenkins, certainly more so than you’d like to be. “I saw their true potential”...ugh, they are doing great Eve, give them and yourself a little bit of credit. Ah, Ezekiel and Cassandra both agreeing that using magic even just a little is okay. They won’t be corrupted...well, Ezekiel won’t, I don’t think we can say much about Cassandra. 

Flynn standing so close to Ezekiel, is there a reason for that? First it was the patting all 3 LIT’s on the shoulders, then it’s looking to Ezekiel and standing really close to him. Sometimes I wonder about Flynn’s lack of personal space. 

The boys geeking out over the submarine is something that is highly entertaining. I laugh every time. Ezekiel saying “no one likes to drink alone” makes me wonder if that’s an opinion from experience. 

I was wondering where Ezekiel’s popcorn was for this briefing from Jenkins until Flynn brought out the s’mores. Way to kill the mood by bringing up Stumpy. Ezekiel being the most interactive in the briefing just shows us his intelligence a little more. Eve and Flynn both getting into Ezekiel’s space to tell him No Subs! was peak mom and dad scolding their son behavior. Cassandra uninviting Flynn and Jake to her birthday, she’ll have a blast with Eve, Ezekiel, and Jenkins I guess. Ezekiel pointing out it was ticking when they were too busy gushing about the clock and Eve was feeling stressed. I do wonder why they all looked to Ezekiel when they decided it was a latitude and longitude, does he just always look that stuff up? I love Professor Ezekiel Jones explaining how the workings of a combination lock is beautiful. Just, chef’s kiss, mwah! His adorable “nothing” when Stone asked what he touched, he’s just a baby. But then the baby gets to attempt to steer and/or get back control of the sub. This stuff is from the 80′s, I’m a millennial I don’t know hot to run any of this Atari crap. Dear sweet boy, you are doing your best and that’s good enough. I do wonder if any of them were actually worried for the 2 boys trapped under water in a submarine, I sure was stressed. And then he’s got his muscles out in that wet shirt, whew boy, you have been hiding under all of those baggy and ill-fitting shirts for too long. The whole yelling at each other thing was cute only because I think they really needed that. 

Coming back with that song? For real? Is that the only one they all knew?! This is one of those scenes that while necessary, gives me major second hand embarrassment. 

I’m pretty sure Ezekiel could have escaped when those DOSA losers showed up. He’d have come back for the others or done what he could to get them out and get the artifact back. All of them just walking out behind the chaos is so funny. First they defeat chaos with harmony, then they let chaos run and got themselves out. 

I love Ezekiel wanting to start a band and Cassandra coming up with a name all while Jake just tries to tune them out. They are definitely a family. 

Jenkins bringing Flynn tea as he grapples with the idea that danger is here. Get ready Librarians because it’s about to be a long ride!

[obnoxioussmiley]

Bittersweet

Pairing: Jake Lockley X Reader

Warnings: we see Steven for a moment!! Yeah that’s probably the only good thing that happens. BIG ANGST. Some mild swearing.

Summary: Harrow reveals the ugly truth about how you and Jake met.

Yeah so I haven’t seen the season finale yet, so if this doesn’t line up with whatever happens don’t go crazy on me.

“You’re gonna lose,” You spoke, glaring at the man across the cave. He sat poised on one of the stone formations, giving you a sympathetic smile. “And I personally cannot wait to see it happen.”

You turned, walking through the entrance of the hallway, when he spoke five careful words, making you freeze in your tracks.

“He called you ‘headache’, right?” His voice echoed in the cave. You have no indication that you had stopped, yet he continued. “You and your brother fought a lot, but you knew you loved each other. Even despite all the mistakes he made.” You took a slow breath in, trying to stay quiet as you listened. “He was a messy person, a thief, a mercenary. But you kept in touch, you knew he’d always have your back so you kept his secrets.” You clenched your fists, hating about he so carelessly talked about him. “And then he died, murdered in the desert at an archaeological site, by his own partner.” A pause. “Tell me, do you know what Marc Spector did before you met him?”

“How do you know this, huh? You’ve been watching him? Fucking stalker,” You walked back out from the hallway, voice shaking. If looks could kill he would be at Anubis’ feet. He didn’t answer, simply gave you a look of pity. “What, you’re trying to tell me Marc killed him? I call bullshit.”

“You’re right, he didn’t,” He simply responded, “But he was there.”

It was silent for a moment, you contemplating whether you believed what he was saying. “Okay, he was there, whatever. There’s no way he knew we were related, it’s not his fault they got betrayed. If you’re trying to turn us against each other, it won’t work.”

Harrow simply chuckled, standing up from his seat. “I know how your brother died for one reason,” He stood the cane in front of him, resting both hands on it. “That day you and Steven were chased by my jackal, I read his scales. All of their scales, including Jake’s.”

You narrowed your eyes, “And what the hell does Jake have to do with my brother?”

“How did you meet Jake? Was it purely coincidental that one of the mercenaries your brother worked with ran into you?” He questioned, “Or is it a possibility that Jake knew exactly what happened to your brother when you met?”

You felt your blood run cold as you thought back to that day. You had been sat at a bar in London when Jake sat next to you out of nowhere, introducing himself. You two got along so well so fast that you could argue you loved him from the start, you believed that he would never hurt you.

But he knew? He knew how your brother died before you? Did Marc and Steven even know?

“It must feel horrible to discover this,” Harrow commented, “To find out the one person you thought you could trust, had been lying to you the whole time.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to show how it had really started to tear you up inside. “Are you done?” When he didn’t say anything, you turned, walking down the cave hallway.

It lead to a tomb, where you found Steven holding a statue as he looked down at the sarcophagus in awe. Hearing your footsteps, he turned, the grin on his face growing wider. He held up the ushabti, “Look! We did it, we’re winning!”

You had to remind yourself that Steven was entirely innocent in all of this. You forced a smile, even though you felt like throwing up. It must’ve still been noticeable, for his face grew wary.

“Is everything alright?” He asked gingerly, moving to step towards you. You involuntarily stepped back, holding your hands out to stop him. You were shaking slightly and you couldn’t will your body to quit it.

“I’m fine, I’m okay, I just-” You took a shaky breath, staring at him, “Can Jake hear me?”

Steven, who had become steadily anxious at your guarded behavior, glanced down at the water on the floor. “Uh- Yeah, he can,” He gave you an uneasy look, “Are you sure you’re okay? He’s a bit worried..”

You let out a short laugh. Ignoring his question, you focused your gaze to the ground, hoping he was looking at you from the puddle’s reflection. “Jake, I don’t want you to front around me, I don’t want to speak to you or listen to a goddamn thing you say unless it’s the truth,” You spat out. You sounded angry, but you truly were scared, fearing that the truth was exactly as Harrow said.

Steven inhaled sharply, his eyes rolling back for moment as Jake completely disregarded what you just said and practically forced his way into control. You watched as the body language changed and his demeanor darkened to that of the man you had adored for the last few years.

Once he was fully fronting, he gave you a confused look, and tried to step closer, “Whats wrong?”

You took another step back, stumbling over the uneven stones. “I want the truth, Jake.”

Seeing your clearly frightened reaction, he put his hands up next to his head in surrender, “Sweetheart, Marc says we gotta get out of here before Harrow finds us, come on.”

He nodded his head in the direction of the exit, but you just shook your head. “No, I don’t wanna go anywhere with you, bring back Steven or Marc.”

Hurt painted his face as he studied you, trying to figure out what had made you so tense. It was like seeing an injured animal go into fight or flight mode. He sighed, getting frustrated, “Can we please-”

“No!” You shouted, “No, I’m not going.”

Exasperated, he dropped his hands, “Okay, what the hell’s going on? We don’t have time for this.” You visibly flinched at his sudden change in tone and his face softened. “No- I didn’t mean-”

“My brother’s death - did you know?” You asked carefully.

Not even stone-cold Jake Lockley was prepared for this, and it was obvious by the panic that flashed across his face. He had frozen at the question and that told you all you needed to know.

A mixture of horror and heart-break twisted onto your face as you reeled from the truth. “Oh my god,” You mumbled out, feeling the air leave your lungs. “You knew this whole time.”

He was at a loss for words, trying to think of the right things to say. But there wasn’t any. Bracing himself, he responded, “I did.” He ran his hands roughly through his hair, “You weren’t supposed to found out this way.”

“No, I don’t think I was meant to find out at all,” You bit back.

“I was going to tell you, I wanted to-”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because I was scared!” He confessed, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Well, you’ve really gone and done it now.”

His face contorted in fear at your bitter tone, he’d never seen you like this before. Sure, you’ve had your fights, but nothing ever close to being this bad. He couldn’t handle the look of disgust you wore towards him. “Let me explain.”

“I don’t want too hear it.”

“Babe-” He stopped, hearing the voices of Harrow’s men start echoing towards the room. “Baby, we gotta leave, please just-”

“I’m not leaving with you,” You insisted, “I can’t trust a single thing that you say.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Give me Marc or Steven and I’ll go with them, but I’m not leaving here with you.”

The voices grew closer and Jake cursed before retreating, letting Marc front to get you to safety. He really fucked it up this time.

Taglist:

@milkiane @spideysimpossiblegirl @dopeqff @daddysfavoritesexkitten @nicepeony @brekkers-desigirl

[waiting4inspiration]

Darkness before Dawn XVI: The End

Summary: Kurst has enough power to interact with people in the living realm and teases at your breaking point by killing someone in your family. Geralt finds the tomb in your painting and hopes that this last attempt at saving your life works

Warnings: angst, strong language, blood, murder, small fluff, magical elements, mentions of abuse, did I miss anything?

Word Count: 3,660

Darkness before Dawn Masterlist II The Witcher Masterlist

You don’t realize that you’re in the castle, running down the halls until you see your mother walking by herself. Thinking that you’ve broken out of what you’re used to being dreams, you don’t even question how you got to the middle of the castle. You’re just happy to be out of Krust’s hold. 

“Mother?” you call out, wrapping your arms around you when you realize that you’re slightly cold. She doesn’t stop or turn around. So you call out to her again, this time louder and sterner. “Mother!”

She stops and slowly turns her head over her shoulder. A smile fails to grow on your face because of the way her eyes seem to look past you completely. Like you’re invisible. It’s not like when she used to look at you before as if you mean nothing, as if you don’t exist. This time, it’s really as if she can’t see you. 

A dark chuckle sounds behind you and you feel an all too familiar, terrible hand touch your shoulder. “Poor Princess. Mommy can’t see ghosts,” Kurst laughs, making you push his hand off your shoulder as you turn around to face him. 

You back away from him as he takes a step forward. “What are you talking about?” you ask, a frown growing on your face at his words as you shake your head in confusion. 

All he does is smirk at you and look up at your mother as she starts to slowly walk again. “Why don’t I show you what I can do so far?” he slyly says. Then, he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and then steps forward. 

His footsteps echo through the hall and it makes your mother jump around. She gasps at the sight of a strange man standing a few feet away from her but quickly composes herself. “Who are you?” she demands, raising her head in confidence and regality. 

Your eyes grow wide as you look between Kurst and your mother. How can she see him and not you? 

That’s a stupid question. It’s like he told you. With enough of your soul, your life force, he can interact with people in the living world. And when he looks at you with that evil smile, you know that he’s not going to just talk with your mother. 

“No!” you scream as you rush towards him to try and stop him. But he stops you by catching you by your throat, tightens his grip and makes you heave for air. 

“I’m a friend of (Y/n),” he says to Uza, takes a step forward and then pushes you away from him. 

You fall on the ground, coughing and heavily breathing as you touch your neck where he had his hand. When you close your eyes, you can feel your strength in the living realm fading. You’re dying. You wonder what will be the breaking point. 

Uza rolls her eyes and folds her arms over her chest as she examines the man slowly walking towards her. “Where exactly are you from? Because I have never seen you before or anyone dressed like...that,” she speaks, gesturing to his clothing that looks old, almost falling at the seams and with faded colors. 

Kurst laughs, nods his head and looks down at you. “Actually, I’m from the spirit realm. You’ve probably heard of me,” he says, lifting his gaze back to Uza when she shifts on her feet. “I’m Kurst.”

The realization falls over your mother’s face and her mouth drops open in shock as her eyes grow wide. She shakes her head frantically as she backs away when Kursts takes hasty steps towards her. “No, it’s impossible,” she whispers, and it’s the first time you’re seeing fear in her eyes. Actual fear. 

Pushing yourself off the ground, you figure that if you’re still alive in the living realm, you can draw whatever strength remains to use some magick to save your mother. “Kurst, leave her,” you weakly order, making him turn around with Uza in his grip already. 

He tilts his head in confusion at you. “Why should I spare her? What has she ever done for you?” he questions, holds onto her tightly when she tries to escape his hold. His speaking to someone else that she can’t see is what stops her from screaming for help and makes her look for the person he’s talking to; you. “Just think, (Y/n), all those years where she hurt you, left marks on your body. You can get revenge for that right now by seeing her die right now,” he growls, his hand turning into the claw you remember scratching you the night you were cursed. The claws that left a scar on your forearm. 

“(Y/n)?” Uza questions, looking around for you. “(Y/n), please-”

Kurst stops her from speaking by pushing a sharp claw against her throat and shushing her softly. “Why try and save someone as despicable as her? After everything she’s done to you,” he says, smirking at you as you shake your head at him. 

“She's still my mother,” you say, stepping closer to him as you hold your hand behind you to hide the blue glow as you conjure a spell. “No matter how awful she’s been, she doesn’t deserve to die by your hand. No one does.”

And with the last strength you have in the living realm, you throw your spell towards him, hoping it will set his entire body ablaze. But that doesn’t happen. He holds out his hand and catches your spell, absorbing it and smiling brightly. “I thought you’d do that,” he chuckles.

Just before you can even move forward to try and physically stop him, he slices his claw through your mother’s throat, making blood run down her front. The sight is just like what you saw he played a trick on you with Charlotte. Only this time, the blood is real and the horrible gurgling sound your mother makes as she falls to her knees tells you how true this. 

You watch her body fall to the ground, your heart sinking in your chest as you fall to your knees in front of her. You’re absolutely speechless and you don’t know what to do. You can’t conjure up more magick because of how weak your living body is and you’re pretty sure Kurst will finish all this soon. 

He breathes out a sigh as he steps around your dead mother. “Don’t worry. I can make sure your entire family dies with you,” Kurst states, making your head turn up to him as he smiles down as his clawed hand. “So you don’t get lonely in the spirit realm.”

Knowing that there’s nothing else you can do, you drop your head and bite your lower lip at the thought that you’re ready to give up. You thought you’d beat this curse with Geralt, and Ida. You thought you’d defeat this Death curse. You never thought you’d give up. But you're ready for that now. 

Landing on the ground with unsteady feet, Geralt grunts and tries to find something to steady himself on. “I hate portals,” he mutters to himself as he turns his head over his shoulder and slightly up to the sky to see the portal that Ida hastily created to bring him to wherever he is close and disappear. 

He can only dread the next portals that will bring him back if he is successful. 

His head turns back to see what lies in front of him, and it’s almost as dark as your painting. A normal human would have to be squinting to be careful of falling over tombstones - both those that are still standing and those that have fallen to pieces. Geralt doesn’t care for the tombstones. He’s not looking for a particular one. 

He’s looking for a mausoleum. The one in your painting. He had just enough time to memorize it before being thrown into a portal, but every tomb he comes across looks similar. Except for one feature. The name.

Sastan. That was the name your depiction had so that is the name he is looking out for. He’s alone in this, Malla taking the job of continuing to search for you in the spirit realm. Perhaps then, if she does find you, she can protect you from Krust, hindering his plan to steal your life force. 

Keeping his silver sword in hand in case there are any monsters lurking around, Geralt’s eyes never stop moving from side to side. He knows he has to move quickly, but he doesn’t want to risk missing anything. He has to check every mausoleum name, check that there’s no Graveir hiding somewhere, no Ghoul that jumps up from under the ground. Those types of monsters are very fond of cemeteries like this one; dark and gloomy. 

Then, he stops something that he had forgotten about in your image. That menacing symbol on the roof of the tomb. It’s the only mausoleum to have that circular symbol, Geralt doesn’t know how he missed it. He hums to himself, runs his tongue over his lower lip, reads the name engraved in the stone, and then takes the step towards the door of the crypt. 

He wants to end this once and for all. 

Lighting a torch with a flint, he pushes on the sturdy wooden door. It doesn’t budge. So, he takes a step back, holds the torch in one hand, and kicks the door above the handle, making it crack open. Without hesitating, he moves forward and into the crypt by pushing the door open. 

The tomb is dark, the only light coming from the torch in Geralt’s hand and the open door behind him. And there’s only one sarcophagus in the sepulcher. He hopes this is it. He hopes so much that this is what he’s been looking for. He hopes that this is what will end the curse and bring you back to life. He hopes that when he moves the stone top, it will be the bones he needs to burn. 

Swallowing roughly, he pushes the top of the sarcophagus off, making stone grind against stone and expose the corpse. Geralt’s nose scrunches at the smell, but knows that he’s smelt worse. The smell of a corpse is nothing compared to the corpse of a Nekker. Or even a living one at that. 

With a deep breath, he lowers the fiery torch and drops it in among the bones. Taking a step back, he watches the fire catch on the scraps of material that give the fire life and allow it to spread. 

He’ll wait there until every single bone is nothing but ash.

Kurst tries to take a step forward to you, but it’s like his foot is pinned to the ground. He tries again, this time his grunt of effort making your head lift up away from your mother’s body to look at him. “What are you doing?” he asks, glaring at you with dark eyes. 

But you shake your head, frown at him before glancing down at his feet. Then, you see fire forming under his feet. It’s not the blue fire you threw at him. This is real fire and it makes you crawl backward away from him. 

His head snaps down to his feet when he feels the fire and watches it starting to rise up his leg. “What are you doing, you bitch?” he shouts, trying to move again but he stays in his place. 

“It looks like my Witcher found your grave, Sastan,” you whisper, a small smile growing on your face as you tear your eyes away from the flames starting to engulf him. 

Kurst screams in agony and continues to try and move his feet as his hands swat at the flames creeping up his body. Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch the fire burn his flesh, but there’s no smell. He continues to scream in pain, and all you can do to try and find the heat from the fire. But you still feel cold. Before the flames reach his head, Kurst looks at you with dark eyes. “I’ll get my hands on you somehow, Princess. Dark magic still exists,” he shouts, his hand shooting out as if to grab you. 

“Only in the living world,” you state, staring at his burning figure with a small smile on your face. 

This is the revenge you wanted for someone who has hurt you. Watching the person who caused sleepless nights, gave you nightmares, and invoked fear in your burn is somehow like a breath of relief. Knowing that they’ll never hurt you like they did before again makes you smile. 

And as he burns up, the fire disappearing along with him, you expect to wake in your bed, surrounded by your family. But you don’t. You remain alone and on the floor of the hall. 

Your gaze falls down to the body in front of you. Blinking, you almost expect your mother’s corpse to disappear like it was one of Kurst’s illusions. But she remains there in a pool of blood. Tears fill your eyes as you slowly crawl forward, a lump forms in your throat as you reach out to touch her shoulder. 

Your hand goes right through her body as if you were touching water. A sob leaves your lips as you fall back to a seated position, your hand shooting to your mouth and you force yourself to look away from your mother. You feel a pang of rising guilt inside you, the kind that normally comes when your mother blamed you for things in the past. 

And you can’t help but hear her voice tell you that this is all your fault, that she died because of you. This is all your fault. 

It hurts even more that you don’t have a single happy memory of your mother. She’s always cared more about Charlotte than you, treated her better than you since you were a child. Even in the moments where you were basically dying, she didn’t care. She didn’t change like Charlotte did. Now, you don’t have anything to think of to make the realization that she’s gone easier. 

Yes, perhaps Kurst made some sense. She’s done nothing for you and maybe this is what she deserved. But still, you don’t think a death sentence isn’t a verdict for anyone. You would have thought of something else to ‘get back at her’, as it were. 

A hand falls on your shoulder making your head snap up and hope that it’s someone in the living realm that has found you. Someone like Jaskier, your father, Ida, Charlotte. Geralt…

Malla gives you a small, sincere smile as she helps you stand to your feet. “I know I’m not the one you wished to see right now,” she whispers when she notices the hopeful look on your face die.  

“Am I dead?” you ask, not knowing if it was too late for Geralt to save you or if he really did succeed. All you know is that you’re still a ghost in the living realm. But when you turn your head over your shoulder to look back at your mother, you find that she’s gone and you’re not in the castle anymore. 

You're in that big, black nothingness again. You look around for a while, trying to find someone, something, anything in the emptiness. But just like it was only you and Kurst last time, this time it’s just you and Malla. 

“No. But you’re not alive either,” she says as she holds your hands in hers. “This is where you have the choice not all spirits have. You can stay here and die peacefully in the living world. You’ll have no more pain and this emptiness can be whatever you want it to be. Something that makes you happy, a place filled with people you love. Or-” She pauses, lets her words settle in your mind for a moment before she turns to show you a door behind her. It’s the door to your room. “You can choose to go back and live your life where nothing is set in stone and no one knows what will happen.”

Staring at her for a moment, your mouth drops slightly as your eyes shift to the door. You blink, not sure what to do. The former sounds like it could be so serene. You can have anything and be happy. You can choose to not be a queen, have your painting station and unlimited paints and brushes. You can have Geralt. 

You shake your head, clear your throat and look at Malla again. “What about Kurst? Isn’t he now stuck in the spirit realm? Won’t he come after me?” you ask. You don’t want to go through everything again now that he’s essentially been defeated. 

“Because his bones were burnt, he lost any kind of power he had before. And, trust me, there are a few spirits here that have some...business with Theis,” she says, a small smirk on her face and a chuckle on her voice. “And if you choose to stay here, no matter if your own bones are burned, you won’t have what he was looking for.”

Her explanation makes sense and you nod your head. “And my mother? Is she here?”

Malla sighs, tilts her head to the side and places her hand on your shoulder. She can hear the sorrow in your voice but isn’t sure if it’s because of her death or because of the thought that you might be stuck with someone that has the potential to hurt you. “You won’t have to see her and interact with her if you don’t want to,” she gently says as she steps to the side to let you choose between the door and the emptiness. 

You don’t know what to choose. You can be eternally happy here. Knowing that if you do choose life, the curse will be broken and your father will pay Geralt for his work, spending the Witcher out of Eronia and leaving you. There’s no way you’ll be able to go with him. You’re the future heir to the throne and you still have so much to learn. And you don’t want that feeling you’re sure you’ll feel if you ask him to stay and he says no. 

Still, there is still so much you have in the living world. You have your father, Jaskier, your sister, and Ida. You have your magick that excites you every time you learn something new. And even though it was never your choice, you’re sure that you could help people so much as a Queen with magick in her blood. 

And nothing will compare to Geralt’s real touch, no matter how realistic it will seem. You’ll still know that deep down, it’s not real. 

With a deep breath, you step forward and close your eyes as you push open the door. 

It was like everything was a dream because when you open your eyes again, you’re lying in your bed and it’s as if you’re waking up because it takes a moment for you to realize where you are and what happened before this. You feel someone’s hand over yours and you slowly move your head to see who it is. 

Your movement makes Ida’s head snap up and a smile breaks out on her face when she sees your eyes open. “Dominic,” she calls, quickly looking over at your father standing at the foot of your bed with his back towards you before he moves to place the back of her hand against your forehead. 

Hearing Ida calling, your father, Jaskier, and Charlotte all turn to look at you, joy and relief spreading across their faces when they see you moving about, trying to get Ida to stop feeling the warmth returning to your skin that used to be so cold. “Thank Gods,” Dominic whispers as he moves forward and sits down beside you, his hand reaching out to touch the side of your face makes you sigh. 

“I’m fine,” you say, your voice cracking as if you haven’t spoken in days. Charlotte and Jaskier join your other side and you sigh again. “You don’t have to crowd around me like a newborn baby,” you mutter, making them laugh and back up a little bit to give you some space. 

That’s when you remember your mother. You don’t see her in the room and it’s the one thing you hope was just a dream. When you shoot up with a gasp, your head starts to spin and Jaskier’s hand quickly shoots out to stop you from falling over. “Take it easy, (Y/n). You just came back to life,” he chuckles, but you only shake your head as you look to Ida and your father. 

“It’s mother. Kurst...killed her,” you whisper, a lump forming in your throat makes it hard to speak and you look over at Charlotte when she shifts in her spot. 

“I’m sure she’s okay-”

“No,” you sternly say, cutting your father and looking at him with tear-filled eyes. “No. She’s not. I saw him kill her.”

Charlotte raises a hand to her mouth and looks at Dominic who looks at her for a moment in return. And just like that, the joyous atmosphere of your awakening ends and is replaced with one of terror and anxiousness. Without a word, your father turns and briskly walks to leave the room. Charlotte moves to try and follow him, but you quickly grab her hand to stop her, shaking your head when she looks down at you. You know it’s best if she didn’t see your mother in a pool of her own blood.

You know you don’t want to see it again, even if the image is stuck in your mind.

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[ragingpancake]

As I Lay Sleeping: Ch. 2 - Sanctuary

Chapter 1

“It’s about time you woke up.” The sun is bright and harsh from the moment John steps outside and he has to lift a hand to help shield his face from its glow. The voice is familiar, he thinks, or it should be and it washes over him like an old song with words he can’t remember, just the melody. “You heard it, didn’t you?” A question, sure, but John thinks she already knows the answer and it’s unsettling because when he lowers his hand, eyes finally adjusted to the light, he peers into hazel eyes and realizes that she knows him. “He said that this would happen. That when it was time, she would call to you.” She holds his gaze for a moment, and she looks hopeful, like she’s just waiting for some spark of recognition, but it never comes. Her face falls just a fraction before she smiles, and he feels so wholly unworthy of that in this moment that it leaves him shifting from one foot to the next a little uncomfortably. “Well, that’s okay,” she says gently, diplomatically. “Rodney said that it was possible this would happen too. Tell me, what exactly do you remember, John?”

Nothing. He remembers a whole lot of nothing and he thinks, based on the look she’s giving him, she already knows that. “Listen, I’d really like to stay and chat, but I’ve got somewhere I need to be.” “Oh really?” She asks, eyebrow raised. “And where’s that?” Okay, she’s got him there. “I can help you, John. That’s why I’m here, to do just that. To help you try to remember. But in order for me to do that, you’re going to have to trust me a little.” Trust. It feels foreign to him, but in the same way that he knows that she’s familiar, he knows that he can trust her. Like maybe he has, before. He thinks back to the voice that spoke to him in the hut, the one that she seems to know. Had she heard it too, then? “Elizabeth,” he says and for a second, her eyes light up and she gives him a smile so genuine that something shifts inside of him. “Yes, that’s right. Very good, John. I’m Elizabeth and a very long time ago, we used to work together. On Atlantis.” Atlantis. Home. Those two words are synonymous with each other, John knows, and it’s the first thing since he woke up that he can be sure of. “Why am I here?” He asks. “Where exactly is here?” Elizabeth gestures for him to follow and from where he’s standing, it’s not like he’s got much of a choice. He has no idea where –-or who—he is, and she seems to be the only one who can provide him with some answers. At least for now, where she goes, he has no choice but to follow. --- They don’t walk for very long. She leads him down to the tree line he hadn’t noticed when he’d first stepped out into the light. There’s a large tree, and it looks like maybe it’s a place she comes often. There are a few logs that she leads him over to and as she sits, she gestures for him to do the same. “Your name,” she says, “is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard of the United States Airforce. We met when you joined the Atlantis Expedition.” She pauses for a moment and he tries to remember, but it’s all still blank. “You were my military commander, leader of our Alpha Gate Team and you were... well, you were my friend.” She gives a small smile, one that seems sad. “We’ve been through a lot together, John. The Pegasus Galaxy, as beautiful as it is, came with plenty of dangers that we were not prepared for. Dangers that we never even saw coming.” “Immediately after arriving in Atlantis, you and a team led by Colonel Marshall Sumner traveled to a nearby planet through what we call a Stargate. It was there that for the first time, we encountered the Wraith. It was then that we... well. I suppose for many, that would’ve been the beginning of the end. But not for you.” Elizabeth is quiet for a moment, lost in her own thoughts like she’s a million miles away. “Elizabeth?” He prompts. “We lost a lot of good people,” she says and her voice is hoarse, thick with emotion. When she glances back up at him, there are unshed tears in her eyes, but she swipes them away almost angrily. “We spent nearly three years fighting the Wraith, doing what we could to protect the people of Atlantis—to protect Earth but it wasn’t... It was never going to be enough.” “Three years after waking the Wraith, after fighting them off of our doorstep more times than we could count, they were bearing down on us. We evacuated the city, got as many people out as we could.” “But we didn’t win.” John doesn’t need his memory to know that; he can see it written all over her face. “No,” she agrees. “No, we did not win. But we didn’t lose, either. Not yet.” John’s not sure what she means by that but before he gets a chance to ask, she’s speaking again. “We are on M7-X732, otherwise known as the Planet of the Cloister,” she says. “It had been abandoned for about a year before we brought you here.” In the sky, the sun is fading and there’s a chill that fills the air. He can feel it, but Elizabeth doesn’t even seem to notice. “You were mortally wounded during the last stand in Atlantis, John. Rodney had come up with a plan in the eleventh hour, like he

always did. The Wraith had woken because we’d inadvertently woken their Queen. They wake when she wakes, they slumber when she slumbers. He needed more time though. You were the one to give it to him and you nearly paid for it with your life.” Hazel eyes flicker to meet his. “That was nearly one hundred years ago.” “That’s not possible,” John rasps and Elizabeth gives him the smallest of smiles. “I can assure you, John, had you not lost your memories, you would know very well that it is. Anything is possible when it comes to Rodney.” She gestures around them. “You got trapped here once. A time dilation field. By the time Rodney had figured it out, you’d spent six months with the people of the Cloister and it was a world where we knew you’d be safe.” “This doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense.” “I know,” Elizabeth says. “And I’m sorry for that.” She reaches for him then, thin fingers curling around his wrist. “You were put into Stasis, John. The intention was to keep you there until the very last moment, to give you the time you needed to heal. Rodney ensured that no one would find this place, that you would be left undisturbed until it was time for you to wake.” “Wake for what? You said he figured it out, right? This Rodney guy. What do you need me for?” “As we speak, Rodney is back on Atlantis in a Stasis pod of his own. It was a design we took from the Aurora, a sort of shared consciousness so to speak. A virtual reality. For the last one hundred years, he’s shared a reality with the hibernating Wraith Queen, keeping her from waking, keeping the hives from waking.” “He’s losing, John. She’s figured it out, Rodney always knew she would, but he’d hoped it would give you enough time to heal.” “I don’t-- what am I supposed to do?” He can’t even remember his own favorite color, how was he supposed to remember how to find Atlantis, how was he supposed to remember what to do? “Find him,” Elizabeth says. “Find them. Even now, if Rodney’s theories were right, there are sixty hive ships in hibernation just outside of Lantea’s orbit. Find Atlantis. Control the chair. Destroy them all while they sleep.” Well, doesn’t sound like that’s asking for too much. Given the fact that, you know, these things apparently almost killed him a century ago.  “And what if I can’t do what you’re asking? If I couldn’t do it before, what makes you think I can do it now?”  “When you and Rodney made your last stand, you two were alone, John.” Elizabeth stands and for a moment, turns her back to him. “Spread across four worlds, you will find sarcophagi containing exactly what you need. It would be reckless to try to return to Atlantis now, without your weapons, without your memories. Find each sarcophagus and save our home.” She turns and John is taken aback by how much older she looks now. How... frail she appears. “And what... what about you?” She gives him a rueful smile. “I’ve done my part, John. I’ve watched and I’ve waited for a very long time; I’m very tired now.” She sits down on the log and John pitches forward off of his own, gripping her shoulders gently to keep her upright. “Elizabeth...” “It’s alright.” A wrinkled hand comes up to rest on his cheek and it’s so familiar that John closes his eyes, savoring it for half a second. “I would tell you to be brave, but that’s all you’ve ever been.” “I don’t know where to go,” he says, and there’s panic rising in his chest with each passing moment as she fades away. “Climb the mountain. Go through the cave. I’ll keep the door open long enough for you to pass through. Let... Let Atlantis guide you.” It’s time to go, John.  The voice in his head is gentle, mournful and he wonders if Elizabeth can hear it too.  He shifts on his knees and he reaches for her, guiding her into his arms carefully before he lays her down against the soft grass. “I’m so sorry, Elizabeth,” because he knows, somehow in his heart, that it’s his wakening that’s caused this. Hazel eyes meet his one last time as a peaceful smile touches her

lips. “When you... find Rodney,” she manages, voice so soft that he almost can’t hear, “tell him... I always knew... it would work.” And then, in much the same way as it was when he awoke in that hut, John Sheppard is alone.

AN: I took some liberties with a few things, mostly the time dilation field and you know, the whole One Wraith Queen to rule them all thing, but I figured since it's an AU... well. Forgive me, please.

[barricadebops]

I NEED A WHOLE BOOK THIS IS A M A Z I N G I'd sell my soul for mummy au snippets I love you oh my hhhhhhhh *screams in adoration*

The Mummy AU verse, you can find the first fic here.

"One year ago, you were chained to a table and was nearly sacrificed in some demonic summoning ritual, I was nearly sucked dry of my everything, and Courf nearly killed us all by summoning guards who were hell bent on killing us until he muttered the right incantation. And where are we a year later?" he muttered as he trailed behind his fiance, a hand poised near the gun in his holster, ready should anything go awry. Which, considering their previous experience at Hamunaptra, wasn't too unlikely a possibility.

In front of him, Enjolras hummed. "The mummy's gone Grantaire, we took care of that. There's nothing to worry about." He stopped walking for a moment and turned around to face him. "The pyramids are open to explore! Who knows what we may discover next?"

"Another creepy book that'll end with nothing good?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "Remind me to keep you away from those."

At his comment, Enjolras didn't even spare him his signature huff or roll-of-his-eyes, which Grantaire thought was pretty rude. He lived to see the way Enjolras face scrunched up in a way that couldn't possibly look cute on anyone's face and yet managed to do on his, the least he could have done as payment for dragging him here once more would be to give it to him.

(Or, well, Grantaire says dragging. In reality, he would have readily followed Enjolras to the ends of the Earth if he asked.)

They turned down a narrow passageway, the dark flickering to life where they held their torches as Enjolras felt along the notches of the wall, looking for...whatever it was he was looking for, his trusty kit wrapped safely around his waist.

"If you're quite done complaining, Mr. Grantaire," he said absentmindedly, addressing him the way he once did when they were first acquainted, out of teasing, "perhaps you could help me?"

A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Help exactly how?"

But Grantaire knew exactly how. It was clear to anyone who could see Enjolras straining on his toes to reach an indented groove in the wall next to another relief, too far out of his reach for him to strike with his chisel as a result of his rather short stature what he needed help with. He just liked hearing him ask.

And as predicted, Enjolrad turned his head and glared, huffing that signature huff Grantaire loved so much.

"Grantaire, I swear if you don't get over here and help me, this time I'll actually summon the mummy through my 'heiroglyph' notes. And this time I'll become his true faithful lover while you mope over the engagement ring I throw back at your head."

The mention of the heiroglyph note-scare was enough to have Grantaire turn pale and rush to his side to help. It certainly wasn't a feeling he wanted to relive again; revenge for an offhand comment by Grantaire about the illegibility of Enjolras' handwriting--that they looked like heiroglyphs and that he was no Egyptologist like his fiance was to decipher them--led to a barrage of notes this time truly in heiroglyphs, and made suspicious and mysterious enough to rouse his suspicions that Enjolras was trying something that might have them pursued by an unholy monster once again, and it certainly didn't help that Enjolras acted well enough to allow him to believe those suspicions.

"Two weeks," he complained as he crouched low enough to allow Enjolras to climb onto his shoulders. "For two weeks you let me think you'd been possessed by some spirit trying to summon the mummy again. You made me look like a fool when Combeferre and Courfeyrac finally came back only to see me panicking at their doorstep."

Enjolras hummed as Grantaire straightened and he found himself lifted off the ground, boosted high enough on Grantaire's shoulders that he could now reach the spot he had been straining to toucn earlier. "Maybe you shouldn't have insulted my writing then. Besides, you should know that heiroglyphs doesn't equate to demonic writing."

"Given my experience with them, you'll have to forgive me if I think they're symbols straight outta hell," he muttered, swaying slightly on his feet. Enjolras patted his head.

"Stay still, Grantaire, I'm trying to hold my chisel steady."

He smiled up at him. "You may be an angel, but you certainly have no way of touching the heavens without help."

Abruptly stopping his chiselling, Enjolras glared down at the top of his fiance's head, and deadpanned, "No, but I'll drag you to hell if you keep it up with the short jokes."

"Hey, come on now, don't get short with me."

"Grantaire."

He remained standing still as Enjolras began to chisel away at the notch in the wall, dust falling around them. "Will you at least tell me what you actually wrote on those notes."

A smirk on his face, Enjolras peered down at him and smugly answered, "I guess you'll never know."

He quirked an eyebrow. "I could just ask Courf."

Enjolras' smirk only grew. "He'll never tell--I've got too much dirt on him."

If he could, Grantaire would shake his head. Siblings.

However, given his current position, he was in no means to do so as Enjolras continued to chisel away at the wall. "What exactly are we looking for again?"

Above him, Enjolras hummed. "Well, we found enough jewels and riches enough to prove that the claims of Hamunaptra being the city of gold for the Pharaohs was real." As an aside, he murmured under his breath, "Take that Bembridge Scholars," which surprised a rumbling laugh out of Grantaire, which on any other day Enjolras might have appreciated, but seeing as how Grantaire's whole body shook and he was sat upon his shoulders, instead he yelped and gripped tight onto Grantaire's hair, which threatened to turn his laughter into purring.

"Gr--Grantaire! Stop!"

"I'll make it a deal to stop laughing if you stop pulling," he grit out in attempt to reign in any embarassing noises that threatened to spill from his tongue.

"Huh? Oh!" his hair was released, Enjolras wincing in sympathy. "Sorry."

Grantaire was of the thought that he didn't have to be sorry if he did the same thing, just when they got home.

"We're--stop moving, I'll fall--we're looking for one of Seti I's pendants--his most prized pendant of all."

He snorted. "And this requires looking through his walls?"

Enjolras peered down at his head, frowning as if it were obvious. "Well, yes. It was stolen from him, and many archaeologists believe it was hidden in the ground or put in a wall."

"Well," he watched as his fiance continued to chip away at the notch in the wall, "there are a hundred walls here. How do we know which one it is?"

"The thieves confessed to hiding it near a relief," Enjolras murmured distractedly. "Such as this one." He pointed to the relief carved next to them.

"How'd they get them to confess?"

"Oh!" Enjolras grinned down at him. "They had them tortured until they spoke. Then they killed them!"

He squinted up at him. "You know, I may call you angel, but the way you speak about this kind of stuff as if it's just common practice to torture and then execute really has me on edge."

"That's just what studying Egyptology does to you, dear." He delivered one last strike to the wall before the surrounding area started to crack. Uneasily, he crouched low so Enjolras could get off as he grabbed for his hand and pulled him back slowly, as if their subtle movements made a difference on the rate of the wall cracking.

The wall eventually ceased its sounds of whip-like cracks as the lines made a halt. Cautiously, Enjolras stepped forward and pressed a hand to the surface, before turning his head to give Grantaire a smile.

"It's still intact, let me just get out my chisel again--"

CRACK!

Grantaire had time only to dart out to grab Enjolras' hand and yank him backwards as the wall shattered and something heavy came toppling out, nearly crushing Enjolras had Grantaire not pulled him to safety at the last second.

Both panting heavily at their narrow escape, Grantaire pressed a light kiss to the top of Enjolras' head as he tightened his arms around him, all the while musing, "Every time we come here it's like your disaster mode is activated, hey Angel? How many times do I have to pull you out of way of falling objects?"

At this point, it wasn't as if Enjolras was even trying to deny it. "As many times as we're out here to discover."

He delivered another quick kiss to his head before he let him go to inspect the fallen object.

A sarcophagus.

Grantaire groaned.

Not this again.

"Grantaire," Enjolras' voice was hushed in awe and his eyes were wide. "Grantaire it's--well it's a--"

"Yeah," he wrapped his hand around Enjolras' wrist and pulled him back once more, drawing a noise of protest from his fiance. "No, we're not doing this again."

Enjolras wriggled his wrist free. "Grantaire, we can't just leave it! Imagine what could be inside!"

"What could be inside, huh?" He muttered. "We all saw how well that went."

"That was one curse," Enjolras said dismissively.

"A curse that nearly brought the end of the world--"

"Besides, you need an incantation to bring the dead back, and since we don't have the Book with us..." He shrugged innocently. Raising his eyebrows, he said, "Please?"

Grantaire looked at his hopeful expression, down to the ground beneath them, up to the dim ceiling that trapped them, before groaning and burying his head in his hands.

"Fine! Fine!" He looked back to Enjolras and sighed. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

Enjolras simply beamed and leaned up to peck his cheek, one soft hand cupping his face. "You wouldn't have been able to stop me even if you said no, dear."

He brought his own hand up to hold Enjolras' as he leaned further into his touch, rubbing his stubbled cheek on his hand and turning to deliver a quick kiss to its palm. "Yeah, I know."

They both approached the sarcophagus slowly, working to lift it up vertically and set it against the wall. Grantaire set off to prying open the lid--this one unimpeded by any sort of a lock--as Enjolras leaned forwards in anticipation. He paused for a moment to glare back at him until Enjolras rolled his eyes and conceded by way of taking a step back; safety wise, it really wasn't as if that one step would truly do anything were anything to actually pop out alive from it, but it provided Grantaire with a sort of ease, even if unfounded.

The lid of the sarcophagus began to give way, and Grantaire knew that with one last heave he would be able to pull it free. Both held their breaths as Grantaire gave one final tug, Enjolras leaned forwards, dust was expelled in a massive cloud as the lid popped off and out came--

Grantaire jumped back and yanked Enjolras back too, gasping, only to see--

Nothing came out. Not even the skeleton of what would have been one buried inside. The sarcophagus was completely--

"Empty?" Enjolras shook his head in disbelief. "It's empty! How can it be empty?"

Grantaire shrugged, a bit relieved at the result of their findings. "Shit, Angel, I don't know? Maybe they just wanted to bury an empty sarcophagus." Even as he said it, he knew it was a stupid thought.

Enjolras scoffed. "Yes, because it's not as if that would take time and effort they couldn't be spending someplace else." He looked hesitant before voicing that little thought that had popped up in Grantaire's mind--one he would have previously written off as being stupid were it not for his recent adventures in the past. "Do you...do you think that maybe... whatever was in here somehow, well, somehow got out?"

And despite the fact that their experiences taught him that it was very much possible, Grantaire shook his head. A little bit of denial was never a bad thing, right? A man's gotta cope somehow.

"No, Angel, that's not possible."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Enjolras opened his mouth to argue that they both well knew that Enjolras could be right, but before he could do so, Grantaire continurd, "Now, what I think we should do is get the hell out of here and back to camp, and then go home next morning and sleep until we die."

"But! But Grantaire! We haven't even found the pendant!" Enjolras protested as Grantaire took him by the hand and started leading him out. "We didn't find what we came here for!"

"Trust me," he grunted. "Maybe the pendant should stay buried."

"Grantaire we can't--" he cut himself off at the sound of shuffling echoing somewhere from one of the passageways.

Both went rigidly still.

The noise made itself heard once more, and Grantaire looked at Enjolras as he raised a finger to his lips and began to ease his hand towards his gun.

The sound disappeared for a moment, in which Grantaire could only discern both Enjolras' and his breathing followed by the slight click as he began to draw his gun from his holster.

Then he felt Enjolras hand wrenched from his own as he screamed, and Grantaire, panicking, drew his gun up, swivelling to try and find where Enjolras disappeared to and fingered the trigger--

"Wait wait!" a laughing voice called. "Don't shoot, it's just me!"

Cursing, he slid his gun back in holster and glared at where Courfeyrac had his arms wrapped around a pale Enjolras.

"Honestly, fuck you Courfeyrac, what is your problem?" he asked, annoyed.

Courfeyrac seemed to be trying to catch his breath as Grantaire tried to slow his own racing heart. "Oh don't be like that. My brother dearest and I act like this all the time!"

Enjolras smacked Courfeyrac's chest. "Yes, at home!" he hissed. "Not somewhere you could give me a heartattack!"

Courfeyrac ruffled his hair. "But this just makes the fear even more delicious."

"Remind me why we brought you along again?"

"Well who else is going to keep you on track? If I weren't here, you two would probably forget all about the pendant in favour of more, ah, hands-on experiences."

"Courfeyrac!"

[prose-for-hire]

Love, and dust, is in the air

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: Do you think you could maybe do something where Spike always goes soft around the reader because he loves her? No matter what, even if he's yelling at the Scoobies and she walks in late he just instantly deflates and gets a dopey smile because he thinks she's so cute and innocent. Oo maybe he gets angry and protective cuz someone tries to attack her but she steaks them like a badass and then dotes on Spike cuz he got injured? And he's embarrassed cuz he wasn't scary but she finds him cute too?

Requested by: Anonymous

Part Two

Warning: Swearing. Fighting. Spike gets hurt.

A/N: Again, I got overexcited with writing the demon/backstory involved. No vampires today, but protective Spike and a reader who can handle themselves and be soft with him at the same time.

There was a demon out causing chaos in Sunnydale, which was not enough to haul you out of bed apparently. It was something that happened a lot, so you had to have a little pass for not hurrying just to have to sit in a long meeting that would probably involve a lot of reading and arguing about how best to get rid of whatever gross demon was trying to play havoc with the town you lived in.

At the Magic Box, everyone sans yourself, were discussing at great length the best way to remove the cursed Egyptian mummy that had started to suck people’s brains out through their noses. The mummy was flanked by two feral jackals that mauled anyone that interrupted the process. There was some debate around the ritual to return the mummy back into its resting place as it appeared that the jackals would not easily allow for the process to happen. They appeared to be the ones in control, not the mummy. This meant there would need to be some way of slaying the jackals so they could perform the ritual, but Giles and Willow were heatedly discussing the merits of humanely removing the jackals or just giving them a good stab from a big, pointy object. No guesses for who was arguing what.

This meant that Spike was getting irritated. It was annoying that the little group had to run the morality triathlon before it came back to what it always did. A good old fashioned fight. He was itching for it, ready to take them all on himself if none of them were willing to give over on the fight.

“But they’re sentient beings, Giles! You can’t just kill animals because they aren’t behaving how you like”

“They are bloody tearing half of the town limb from limb, Willow! To think that there is any other way is-”

“Bloody idiotic! The lot of you! You for entertaining the big song and dance about it and you for being, well, the bleeding bloody heart of the operation! They’re evil, they’re trying to kill you – it’s kill or bloody be killed so you can all have a big scholarly debate on the matter but I’m going out there and getting it done”

“Spike! You don’t make the decisions, we need to tread carefully or-” Buffy warned.

“Or what your head might bloody explode at the idea of actually slaying a demon and not shagging it to kingdom come? You wanna send it to hell in a nice neat little bow? Well let’s bloody go!”

“The jackals are just protecting the Mummy, something they’ve been bound to for centuries – we can’t just kill them for their loyalty!” Willow insisted, perhaps a little close to home for her. She had been with Oz for a long time and she knew that although the jackals were double the size they should be and highly aggressive, they could still feel.

“You’re fucking ridiculous – the lot of you! I’ve never seen so many self-congratulating, fake moral prats in one-” but Spike didn’t finish his sentence. You had walked in. His hand was still in mid-air from where he had been pointing around the room, but his face softened when he saw it was you. He didn’t want to shout in front of you, to hurt you, and he definitely didn’t want you to think that he was including you when he insulted the rest of the group.

He loved you, unconditionally. He was all-in, he just struggled to get close to you because the others were always getting in his way. You were sort of quiet, something he assumed meant you were somewhat innocent, but you weren’t necessarily shy around him. He liked the way your eyes lit up when he said something you found humorous and he liked that when you did manage to get a chance to speak to him, you were always kind to him. You even hugged him once after a fight and he thought he might pass out at how euphoric your affection made him feel. He had surprised you and wrapped his arms around you tight, making you smile so wide.

All of the fight that was in him had deflated when you walked in, all of the harsh words gone. His eyes were on you as you sneaked in and sat down without a word trying to hide the fact that you were late.

He appeared to have melted, smiling at you slightly, lowering himself into the seat beside you as you smiled back, despite Giles berating you for being late and the argument about how best to remove the mummy and it’s pets from the hellmouth started up around you again. But Spike no longer cared. You were here, they could talk in circles all night for all he cared, at least he’d be able to watch over you while they spoke.

Willow, Tara, Anya and Giles were staying behind to conduct the ritual so that when the jackals were either distracted or taken out (there still wasn’t a consensus) the mummy could be restored back to its sarcophagus in the Sunnydale museum with someone needing to attack when the Mummy was weakened. You had been paired with Spike to one part of Sunnydale with Xander and Buffy in the opposite direction. Spike had tried to insist you stayed behind but you told him you would be okay.

“You don’t need to be here, love, I can take care of this. Get yourself safely in bed, you look like you could use a nap”

“You think I look tired?” Your brow furrowed a little in that way he found cute. He spluttered, trying to assure you he definitely didn’t mean it that way. He had just wanted to protect you, it was more likely that Xander and Buffy came across the threat anyway, the demons had a tendency to go gunning for the slayer for some reason.

A figure started to stagger towards you both, interrupting the look Spike was giving you that was starting to make a heat rise in your cheeks. A figure started to walk slowly towards you, as if it could feel your presence. 

 “It’s the mummy!” You shouted, your eyes wide as Spike stepped in front of you, making sure he would be the target. Apparently, the threat was yours for today. It rounded on you, but Spike wasn’t having any of it.

“No you bloody don’t” Spike warned, spinning the mummy away with a hard kick to the chest after it lunged at you, knocking you to the floor. He helped you up, his touch in complete contrast to a second ago, he was gentle as he pulled you to your feet. As if he were scared to break you. The anger behind is eyes was evident, his jaw tensed when he saw the graze on your elbow. It was small and you were fine, but to him this was as if it had torn both of your arms off. He started to get brutal, as the jackals rounded the corner, prowling towards you both. Spike moved you behind him, a hand resting on you protectively, his touch always soft with you. The jackals circled you both, as the mummy walked towards you again, making Spike even more angry.

“You don’t come near them” He snarled, taking all of the attention from you. Spike, although he did have a brain that could be taken, wouldn’t be a target. They wanted human brains. Your brains.

The jackals leaped, both at Spike leaving the mummy staggering towards you, hands out as if ready to hold you down so it could extract what it wanted from you. Spike was violently kicking at the beasts, one had bitten into his side and the other was latched onto his leg. He had managed to fight one off but he was still struggling with the other. He looked over, the reason he was attacking them, even more aggressively than usual, was so that he could get to you. He was desperate to protect you. You had a sweet nature, he hadn’t been expecting what had come next. Even the jackal appeared to pause as it watched you punch the mummy before climbing it like a tree, kneeing it so it doubled over, allowing you to climb onto its back and secure it’s neck firmly between your hands, the way it had been threatening you.

Spike stared, his eyes wide at the way you so skilfully went for it. You didn’t even flinch as it thrashed at you. You struggled against it, trying to incapacitate it as Spike desperately tried to get out from the jackals jaw to help you. The ritual was complete, you could tell because strange golden light started to seep from cracks in the mummified flesh. It was now or never. You grabbed it’s head and twisted, it crumbled away in your hands and just as it did that, the jackals disappeared. A lot of dust started to pour from the mummy’s neck, flowing through the air as you ran over to Spike where he sat, clutching his side now the threat was gone. The mummy disintegrated as you both stared into each other’s eyes.

“That was…” He started, seemingly lost for words. He had forgotten his wounds at the sight of how capable you were in a fight. You didn’t usually get the chance to prove yourself like that, it was usually Buffy’s fight. You weren’t a slayer, just someone that had picked up some Sunnydale tricks along the way – you had to be like that on the Hellmouth, or you really wouldn’t last a week.

“You poor thing, it really bit into you” You said softly, kneeling beside him and stroking his side as he winced, “Sorry - come on, let me help” You had a mini first-aid kit you always brought on patrol that you took out and started to look for something to put on the wound. It wasn’t as deep as it could have been which you were grateful for. You didn’t want him hurt. You were really fond of him which is why you went kind of quiet around him sometimes.

“No, don’t – I just lay there like some useless git” He berated himself, his jaw tensing again in anger at himself this time. He had wanted to keep you safe. You shook your head softly, stroking your thumb along his jaw as you spoke.

“You didn’t, you looked out for me! You took on two were-jackals and lived, well – sort of, to tell the tale! That was so brave!” You insisted, giving him a smile that he savoured, your fingers still tracing his jaw. It was so sweet he was surprised when you came back the same sweetheart despite the rage he had seen as you attacked that mummy. He could tell you were being genuine too, you really found him brave. You smiled while he watched you begin to fuss over him, his gaze never leaving that face he loved so much.

As the last particles of dust lay upon the ground as a light scattering of icing sugar would, he made a decision. He was going to do it. He was going to tell you how much he loved you. He just had to figure out how.

[capricornus-rex]

A Shadow of What You Used to Be (15)

Chapter 15: Ahead of the Competition | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker

Requested by Anon

Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.

Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling

Requesting to be tagged: @heavenly1927​

Also in AO3

Chapters: Prelude – 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 – 12 – 13 | Previous: Part 14 | Next: Part 16 | Masterlist

16 of ?

Irele landed on the receiving platform of the base installed among the mountains, not far from the tomb’s entrance courtyard. Her entrance had interrupted the conversation between an Inquisitor—whose back turned to Irele—and a Purge Trooper Commander of Irele’s unit. The girl’s presence compelled the Inquisitor to drift from their chat and turn around.

“Ah, I figured you’d be here,”

“Pleasant surprise, Second Sister,” Irele dryly welcomed.

The Second Sister was one of the most uncontested Inquisitors among the organization. Her prowess for combat and her stratagem for war tactics were unmatched, as well as her penchant with tech—which she was more secretive of than her other attributes. However, despite all this recognition, one thing she loathed about Irele was her own prestige with the higher ups: Lord Vader, namely, and perhaps extending to the Emperor—who was expressively keen in cultivating the Sith ways into the young girl as soon as she was extracted from Tatooine.

The older Inquisitor envied the girl over the privileges and favor that she’s so oblivious of, interpreting it as some kind of unjust immunity—although Irele doesn’t feel that way, she feels she’s just as expendable as the Inquisitors. She had ingrained the idea that one slip-up could spell her extermination from Vader, no less, thus her entire being in full survival mode—with the help of her competitive spirit keeping it in check.

Irele sensed hostility from the Second Sister, so she kept her distance as they spoke.

“Ran out of planets to search?”

Her instincts were roaring at her, telling her that Second Sister has come for the Jedi, most likely. But it was basically an unspoken race to see who catches the prey first—and Irele never liked competition. If she was forced into one, she must prevail in any way she can.

“Actually… this planet, specifically, piqued me. I know about the relics hidden in here and I don’t doubt that a Holocron—or something equal to it—might work to my advantage.”

“This island is basically an idyllic mausoleum. Watch your step though, the last one in command here died trying to hide her stash.”

Second Sister stepped closer to Irele to the point that they’re at each other’s noses. Irele glowered calmly at the Inquisitor while her words hissed through her bared teeth, “I’m not that stupid.”

She didn’t walk out the conversation without bumping Irele hardly against the chest to the point that the girl wobbled where she stood.

“What did I ever do to you—and the others—to be acting like some kind of angst-ridden teenager?”

The Inquisitor froze and slowly half-turned so Irele can see at least her face.

“Don’t go humble on me just because you’re better than anyone among us Inquisitors,”

Irele bobbed her head back, expressing an exaggerated sigh as she hugged herself with crossed arms over her chest, “Poor you. I’m just disposable as you guys are.”

“Liar!” Second Sister hissed, this time directly facing Irele front and center, and even went so far as stepping forward to her; but of course, the other girl was left unfazed and secretly pitied Trilla.

That’s how they really think of me, huh?

“I didn’t come here only for you to walk in and step up. I will get that Jedi and the Holocron—and those will maybe win me the Emperor’s favor!”

Irele doesn’t react to that declaration. She watches the Second Sister walk away angrily and slam the button on the control terminal that summons the elevator. Before the heavy doors would open to reveal the lift, Irele had one more thing to say.

“Remember this, Trilla: the fantasy you think I have is no reality of mine.”

Trilla’s jaw clenched and disappeared as the elevator sank.

–

Returning to the tomb, Irele found that the golden elevator has not returned to the starting point of the shaft, and so she had to make herself resourceful. Nevertheless, she took the path to the chamber, peeked over the edge and calculated her jump. It didn’t take much effort, she descended as gracefully as she did when she first faced Cal.

She landed atop the golden sphere sitting on the concave at the center of the elevator. The scent of aging metal intruded her nose that she cringed—and maybe even sneezed. She then examined this massive, ancient elevator; she dared come up and touch the rails to feel the cold smoothness of the gold, she looked closer and found they were shaped like the corals by the windows of the lower levels of Fortress Inquisitorius in Nur. She spotted a crack on the bottom part of the ornate wall, she crouched to take a closer look—this portion had grown brittle over the millennia, but it’s as though someone deliberately broke it off. She needn’t to think who did it.

She crawled through the hole and ended up in an antechamber. Irele made her way down using the platforms that looked like tiered steps; when she it to the ground, she heard a noise like two rough stones scratching against one another. She looked and saw the bronzium statue come alive!

Immediately whipping out her saber, one flick of her wrist loosened the center of the weapon—practically splitting it into two. Remembering her training back in the dojo, she was taught that her surroundings, the environment, can be used to her advantage. And so she did.

The tomb guardian raised its arms in mid-air, then its blue linings started to glow brightly and, even though it looked pretty, it wasn’t a good sign. Irele leaped up to the nearest stone platform on her left and watched the tomb guardian release a rod of blue energy out of the sphere in its chest.

“Okay, it’s got laser beams!” Irele points out.

Knowing that those beams are too powerful to be deflected using the lightsaber, she has to make use of whatever’s around her. Being small and nimble compared to the walking tower that is the tomb guardian, Irele favored the high ground: taking shelter on the platforms whenever the statue would emit its powerful energy beams and then returning to ground level.

She was starting to feel just how impenetrable the guardian’s metal shell is with her blows, but that didn’t deter her from ridding herself of this nuisance. Overwhelming the mute sentient with her lightsaber, she performed every trick in her list—which she thought was good practice—and ranged from single-bladed attacks, to duel-wielding, and saberstaff.

“I’m barely denting the thing!” she gasped, and then her eyes wandered in the antechamber.

The odd, large sphere might do something, and so she thought of how to exploit them; in a last-minute attempt, Irele lifted one—but in a struggle—and swung it towards the tomb guardian that was menacing marching towards her, its hand positioning into what ought to be a choke-hold—but Irele was too busy to notice that it was a first spinning in place, gaining momentum into a deathly punch instead.

“HA!” her own amused her—mostly because of the noise that the stone sphere and metal man produced. With the guardian disoriented, she gave it several swings; going as far as walking on the wall with great agility only to pivot and split the guardian open from its back.

At the last limbs of its life, Irele delivered the killing blow—a molten gash spitting sparks on every side on the bronzium tomb guardian’s back; three or five seconds silence rang across the antechamber, only the wind made noise with the hollow gong dangling on the beams, the mute metal sentinel was a fallen tree, the dust and sand of the ruins blanketed it in beige clouds. Upon its collapse, the ground shook under Irele’s feet and then the silence that played the gongs returned.

Irele can finally take a look around the antechamber without any interference. She heard the distant roaring of an animal she can’t identify, neither does she want to, and continued on. There were so many secrets hiding on each side of the walls, she doesn’t know where to begin.

Finally alone, only now did she notice that gigantic spheres were placed strategically on certain spots, a tall wall had been obliterated—possibly by the same object—and was positioned to the shallow, bowl-like sockets on the ground. Irele then approached the passages at the far corners of the room, the kind that ones is most likely to miss out—if one doesn’t know how to look—and didn’t find anything interesting, she only circled back to the main foyer.

“I know there’s something…” she sighed in chagrin. “Something I’m missing.”

Roaming through the first phase of the tomb, she either finds herself back to where she began or into another room but with less and less clues to pick up Cal’s trail. Her only trade-off is that she’s giving herself a history lesson, except there is no teacher to tell her.

Irele, as adventurous as she always has been, found herself twenty feet above the ground after scaling the walls and ending up on high ledges. At the other end, she found a gold light spilling through a hole in the wall and followed it. A golden sheen coated her brown irises, beige sand and aging gold had melded in color; her eyes fixed on the glass center of the floor and saw the sarcophagus underneath it. She descended from her perch and found that another tomb guardian had been felled; the odd one out in this empty yet grand-looking chamber was the wall on her left. It was not stone neither was it corroded gold; she approached it and determined it was tree bark, though she cannot say what kind.

“This bark doesn’t belong in this planet…” she deduced.

Irele hurriedly patted her pockets for her comlink and contacted HY-L33 with an urgency.

“Lady Irele, I’ve uploaded a brief data file on the scan sampling of the tree bark you sent,” the droid spoke over the radio.

“Kashyyyk,” the only thing she reads out from HY-L33’s scan file. “He went to Kashyyyk.”

At that moment, she had imposed contemplation on herself. For one, she could go back to the Anathema and fly to Kashyyyk; but a latter choice is more personal, and the thought of it is enticing, but it risks her directive and the expectations set upon her.

“What have I got to lose?” she whispered to herself and she looked for her way out of the tomb.

Once she got back to the outer plaza, inhaling in fresh air as if she’s been holding her breath underwater, she hopped back into her TIE and fiddled with the navigation computer. Her fingers hovered on the keypad, reluctant to type in the coordinates, until she worked up the nerve a minute or two later.

R-16.

As the TIE ascended from the ground, Irele tweaked her radio channel to a secure encrypted line to HY-L33 before she would go off-planet.

“Don’t ever tell them.”

–

From the other end, HY-L33 did receive Irele’s secret transmission. Apparently, Irele had prepared herself and the droid for this. The modified nurse droid’s photoreceptors flickered as soon as she received the frequency, and right off the bat, she knew what to do—and like any good, unassuming droid would do, it went on standby mode like it always has for the past two hours.

Meanwhile, in the deeper levels of the Imperial’s established base, the Second Sister oversaw the excavation operation inside the mountains of Zeffo. She noticed the faint chatter among Stormtroopers over the computer terminal and was beginning to have her suspicions, until one of her own Purge Troopers approached her from behind but kept his distance.

“What’s going on, Captain?”

“Reports say that they identified the TIE Interceptor of Lady Irele leaving the planet.”

“She flew alone? And her crew?”

“Apparently they don’t know she had gone off-planet.”

“She abandoned her directive,” Second Sister tells herself, and underneath that onyx-black mask, a white crescent shined over her bronze skin—she hadn’t realized she was grinning, she can’t tell if it’s in a triumphant manner or a sly, opportunistic one.

Now’s my chance to shine! She chuckled with a sinister intent.

[missn11]

For the Kiss Ship Ask! Ming Xiao/Nines, 38: because they're running out of time

@vampemoqueen oh thank you so much for this prompt and I’m sorry it took so long, the story got away from me! 😅 I hope it’s enjoyable regardless.

Nines looked over his shoulder for what felt like the fifteenth hundredth time to confirm that he was truly alone in the back alleys of Chinatown. He appeared to be so, but when Kindred or Kuei-jin disciplines were involved, he couldn’t be a hundred percent sure. However, Nines didn’t have a choice, aside from trusting his instincts that he wasn’t unintentionally leading one of his or Ming Xiao’s enemies right into the heart of the Kuei-jin Temple, he had to warn Ming Xiao about the chaotic shit-storm that was heading her way.

Upon reaching the dead end of the alley, Nines tugged the hood of his grey hoodie more over his face and scanned his surroundings once more before pressing a few bricks in a particular order, causing a passageway to be revealed. Nines quickly slipped inside and flipped the switch to reclose the opening, leaving him in near darkness. Not a problem, thanks to his recently learned ability to see in the dark.

The passageway itself was made of long winding caves that led to different rooms of Ming Xiao’s inner sanctum. A person could get easily lost or fall into the numerous traps hidden throughout if they didn’t know the proper way. Ming Xiao had showed Nines the path to take to her bedroom when their secret arrangement had turned into something more than either of them could have imagined.

It had started out as a means of necessity, both of them were in a bad state after the war, and the Camarilla and the Sabbat had rolled in to take advantage. Nines knew that he couldn’t trust either sect as far he could throw them, and he felt it was better to go with the devil that fought the hardest than the devil coming into town with collars, so he had ended up wearily accepting Ming Xiao’s invite to meet and had agreed to an alliance with her. It had proved useful, since it turned out that snake, LaCroix, had contacted Ming Xiao to make a pact. He had wanted her help in framing Nines for the murder of the Malkavian primogen, Grout, and Ming Xiao had been able to warn Nines ahead of time. They had managed to foil that little scheme by luring an old foe of LaCroix’s to Grout’s mansion and letting the hunter get to work. The plan had been to make sure that the Camarilla did most of the work in dealing with the Sabbat, while Ming Xiao investigated the Camarilla’s true strength and looked for what cracks Nines could exploit to pry the sect apart from the inside. It had worked out very well, Strauss and LaCroix had been quickly drawn at odds; if they were lucky, the Camarilla would collapse in on itself within a year, give or take.

However, Nines knew he had to keep this partnership a secret as most Anarchs would rather lick LaCroix’s shoes clean or cut off pieces of themselves for the Archbishop than team up with the Kuei-jin. Understandable, given their deeply bitter history, and Nines had felt the same way before understanding the Kuei-jin better. But now knowing that Kindred and Kuei-jin were not so unlike in the grand scheme of things despite their differences, he couldn’t demonise them in his mind anymore. Sure, he wasn’t able to forgive what the Kuei-jin had done to the Anarchs when they first arrived in LA but couldn’t entirely hate them either, though funny enough, love was somehow on the table.

If anyone were to know about the depths of Nines’ feelings for Ming Xiao, then they would say that she had seduced him and had him wrapped around her little finger, if they hadn’t first called him a traitor to everything Jeremy MacNeil had stood for. And they wouldn’t be entirely wrong, Nines knew that he was betraying everything the Anarch Movement and MacNeil had fought for by allying and falling in love with the enemy. But he also knew that MacNeil, Garcia and Fortier were hypocrites. MacNeil had run, and Garcia and Frontier had made deals with the Kuei-jin, leaving the Anarchs to the mercy of their enemies.

When Nines had first gotten to know Ming Xiao, he had had so much anger towards his former idols and self-hatred within himself that it had been suffocating, but Ming Xiao had helped him through it when he had eventually let her. And Nines had shown Ming Xiao how she was losing her way. She was meant to be punishing evil, and the supposed Sixth Age was the greatest evil of them all, but she had been hurting her own charges by empowering the weakened Tong and committing other cruelties in an effort to gain control over the city, telling herself that the ends justified the means.

There had been fierce arguments between them at first that had left Nines thinking that he had blown their alliance, but they had always found a way to make up by talking about it afterwards. In fact, Nines found that he enjoyed their many long discussions. They were messy and challenging, but he liked that about Ming Xiao, she didn’t make it easy for him, and he could tell that she was loving him for bringing new ideas to the table even if she resisted them at first.

And well, there were just times that he had sat there completely entranced by Ming Xiao’s cultured voice, smiling at the light blush that appeared on her cheeks when she noticed how intently he was listening to her. Then came the light touches. Ming Xiao’s hand had always seemed to find Nines’, or his shoulder or knee, her warmth terribly intoxicating, and soon his lips had begun to ache to be touched by hers. When they did eventually kiss and ended up in her bed, Nines knew that he had fallen for Ming Xiao hard and would never, ever want to let her go.

Which was why he was here. LaCroix’s and Strauss’s rivalry was reaching a breaking point over the sarcophagus and the discovery that the Kuei-jin had the key in their possession, and they were planning an attack on the temple tomorrow evening. Nines knew that there was no way he could speak out against this raid, the thirst for vengeance within every Anarch was too strong for them to be swayed by words. There was no choice but to warn Ming Xiao to get herself and the Kuei-jin out of the city tonight.

Finally, after carefully traversing the rocky passageway, Nines reached a lever and quickly tugged it, the wall in front of him opening up, revealing the beautifully decorated bedchamber on the other side. Everything was exactly as it had been when Nines had been here last, but the air was too still for comfort. Something was wrong.

At first, Nines thought that the bedroom was empty until he noticed the shape of a woman through the canopy’s nearly translucent drapes and quickly rushed over to part them. His heart sank at the sight of Ming Xiao laying on her back with her eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling and a metal stake lodged in her chest. Nines scrambled onto the bed, immediately pulled the stake out and held her as she let out a sharp gasp, life returning to her limbs.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here now,” Nines soothingly told Ming Xiao while stroking her hair and back and warming his blood as she trembled and clung onto his arms.

“Nines what are you doing here? Has the battle already started?” she asked wearily, in between breaths.

“What do you mean, what the hell is going on? Why were you staked?”

Ming Xiao let out a breath of relief, “Oh good, it hasn’t been that long since Tai staked me, your Anarchs have a chance then.” She took a moment to close up her chest wound before explaining further, “Tai, my second-in-command, has pulled off a coup. He’s managed to turn most of my court against me, citing that I have become too soft in trying to reach a peaceful truce with the Anarchs and that I was losing my drive to fight against the Sixth Age. And thus he has killed all my allies, staked me and taken over! He’s planning to battle every Cainite sect to the death! He’d rather face Yomi again than allow the Sixth Age to occur!” She looked into Nines’ eyes, her jade green own watery with unshed tears, “And If you’re here, then LaCroix knows about the key to the sarcophagus?” When Nines gave her a heavy nod, she swallowed, quickly wiping her eyes. “Then Tai has lit the fuse… Your Anarchs need to run, what Tai has planned isn’t a suicidal attack, he has a secret weapon that he will unleash upon you all!”

Nines felt himself become all cold again. “What weapon?”

“Lately there have been many who have been receiving the Second Breath, but they’ve all been Chih-mei, they are truly overtaken by their hunger and are unable to become true Kuei-jin. And instead of putting them out of their misery, Tai has been keeping them chained, feeding them Cainite flesh and blood, so they are much more likely to go after them rather than humans once he unleashes them on the Cainites!”

“That motherfucking bastard, he’s going to cause the very apocalypse he’s trying to prevent!” Nines shouted in horror, “Do you know where he’s keeping the Chih-mei?”

Ming Xiao quickly climbed off the bed. “I have an idea, but you need to get your Anarchs out of Los Angeles if I fail.”

Nines shook his head briskly and grasped Ming Xiao’s arm, “No way in hell I’m leaving you to take on the horde of Chih-mei on your own!”

She smiled gratefully at him, “It’s not the horde that I’m afraid of falling to, I also would have to potentially deal with Tai as well.”

“Again, I’m not leaving you, I’m with you until the end,” Nines reiterated as he pulled Ming Xiao into an embrace.

She rested her head on his chest and squeezed him tightly. “That’s what I’m afraid of, that you’ll meet your end at his hands, and I never want to lose you either. However, I do know how stubborn you are from budging from a final decision, but you should try to get your Anarchs out of the city in case.”

“I’ll make a call, but I know most of them ain’t going to let me talk them out of tomorrow’s raid, sadly.”

Ming Xiao’s eyes flickered downwards. “I see, I hope you can sway as many of your Anarchs away from the raid as possible. But you have to be quick about it, we don’t have much time.”

Nines brought his hand up to tenderly cup Ming Xiao’s cheek, bringing his lips closer to hers. “Do we have time for a kiss?”

“Always,” she replied with a chuckle and kissed Nines.

Kissing Ming Xiao lit up a fire within Nines, he grasped her hips and kissed her back with great passion, wanting to taste every inch of her. She squeezed his biceps, letting out a sigh as he kissed down her neck before capturing her lips again.

Ming Xiao was right on the money about where Tai was keeping the horde of Chih-mei, they were all packed in a gigantic pit deep under the temple. It was horrifying to see the hundreds of hungry dead howling and trying uselessly to grapple at Nines when they picked up his scent. Many of them were dressed in normal civilian clothing, reminding him that they had been normal people going about their lives before dying to come back as blood-and-flesh-hungry undead monsters, much like being wights. And like wights, they needed to be put out of their misery.

Lighting them all aflame wasn’t exactly the kindest method, but it was the quickest, even if Nines would be hearing the Chih-mei horde’s screams in his dreams for years to come. He was just glad he was able to keep his nerve despite the flames now blazing in the pit, but he couldn’t wait to get out with Ming Xiao, to where he didn’t know, since there wasn’t anywhere he could safely place her.

Eh, they’d figure something out. Maybe he could ask her if she had any ideas—? That was the plan until Nines felt the sharp pain pierce his heart deeply. His whole body suddenly became atrophied and completely unable to move.

“There, isn’t that better? Now we can have a real discussion without your annoying Brujah in the way…” Nines heard a snide and amused man’s voice speaking. He already wished he could move and punch the fucker.

“I doubt we have much to say to each other since you made it rather clear when you staked me, Tai!” Ming Xiao stated harshly, her heels clicking slowly towards Nines.

A flicking noise grabbed Nines’ attention. “I wouldn’t go near your Cainite pet, Ming, otherwise he’ll be lit up as brightly as those poor Chih-mei down there. Now, why don’t you come with me and discuss how you can make up for burning our secret weapon by leading the attack tonight? It seems you have forced us to go ahead on schedule…”

“I think I’d rather not, Tai, but you knew that already!” Ming Xiao replied dismissively.

“I cannot express how I’ve missed you calling me ‘Tai’.” The asshole had the audacity to sound touched about it. Nines couldn’t wait for Ming Xiao to cream this creep. At least, he hoped she could kill the bastard. He knew she was scary powerful, far beyond most Kindred he knew, even Jack, but so was Tai from what he had heard, and the son of a bitch had managed to stake her once before. But he also had to trust in Ming Xiao that she wasn’t let that happen again.

“Well, it is only reasonable to grant a dying man one last wish…” she remarked simply before beginning the gruesome transformation into her demon warform.

The awful bone-cracking noise had to be coming from Tai’s transformation into his own warform. There was a breath of stillness before Nines heard the sickening clash of tentacle, and from the sound of it, sharp bone. At first it didn’t sound like the fight was going in Ming Xiao’s favour, too many fleshy slices and cuts filled Nines’ ears and his heart ached at every one of her pained grunts.

However, after long moments, the clash of Ming Xiao’s and Tai’s conflict soon changed. No longer was Nines hearing the sounds of flesh being cut or stabbed but rather bone cracking or shattering. God, he wanted to cheer her on so badly, to encourage her to not let up, that she had him right where she wanted him. But Ming Xiao didn’t need him to cheerlead her, it seemed like she was capable of kicking that creep’s ass just fine.

The bone stopped breaking, and flesh was now being rendered, and Tai was screaming in terrible pain, the scent of his blood filling the air. In fact, his blood had trickled against the bottom of Nines’ boots by this time. He heard presumably Tai’s body get tossed hard to one side. Needless to say, it looked like Ming Xiao had won.

However, not so easily, given from how Ming Xiao limped over to Nines, all bloodied and bruised and nearly collapsing on her knees. She ripped the stake out of Nines’ chest, and he felt as though the air had been knocked right out of his lungs as his limbs came back to life. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, I thought I was going to lose you!” he cried out and pulled her into his arms, “I’m so sorry that I didn’t notice the stake he threw at me-- ”

Ming Xiao kissed Nines fiercely, wrapping her arms around his neck. He sighed contently, just so happy that she was alive and safe, for now at least. She broke off the kiss reluctantly and leaned her forehead against his in exhaustion. “We have to leave now! Surely by now, the rest of Tai’s court will have noticed their newly appointed and ex-Ancestor are largely absent. I cannot say for sure where we should go, but we cannot stay here.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, I’ll figure something out, you concentrate on healing yourself and…” Nines lifted Ming Xiao bridal style and gave her one final chaste kiss, “…once we’ve gotten shelter, we’ll see where we go together from here.”

Before Nines used his Celerity to speed them out of this awful place, he noticed Ming Xiao smile contently at him and rest her head on his shoulder. He had never seen her look so comfortable and relaxed in all their time together, and he hoped that he could always see her looking like that for as long they had each other…

[keep-calm-and-trust-carter]

"Need"

Summary: https://stargate.fandom.com/wiki/Need

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE ATTEMPT. I will tag the post with this but I wanted to get it front and center so people are warned up front.

Thoughts

As proof that my powers of procrastination truly know no bounds, it has been over 4 years since I've done one of these.

"Need" is really not one of my favorites. It's not up anywhere close to "Emancipation" levels of hate, but it's just one I'd rather skip if I could

"I wish he'd stop doing that." Same, Jack, same.

Is it good that Daniel stopped someone from killing themselves? YES. But for the rest of the episode, I want to slap the shit out of him.

Please stop touching Sam. It's creepy. Yep, pretty sure I repressed this part.

"Lately, I...I get this weird feeling when I'm near Teal'c." "Hey, who doesn't?" That's not very nice, Jack.

"Well, you do realize it's also kind of rude to kidnap people and chain them up in a mine." *snort*

It's kind of hard for him to be your destiny when he's married to someone else.

Yeah, he's definitely an addict at this point. And this is the point where I start wanting to slap the ever-loving shit out of him.

"I have got everything under control, okay?" Yes, clearly.

"There's still so much you don't know about me." Yeah, like the fact that you're fucking married, and that your wife would probably like you to find her so she can stop having her body controlled by a megalomaniac parisite!

"You have a wife," Thank. You. Sam!

JANET!

Ooof, that poor SF. He's gonna be sore in the morning.

It was nice of Daniel to stay there to help Shyla through withdrawal. Hopefully, she actually does free her people.

Fun Stuff:

Do I Need to Watch this Episode: How important is this episode to the arc it’s in (Apophis Arc, Tok’ra Arc, Replicator Arc, Ori Arc, etc.) and to the overall series arc?:

I don't know that it's strictly necessary, but it does introduce the concept of overuse of the sarcophagus and the negative consequences of it. I'd say it adds context/layers to later eps. Particularly Abyss.

THE TEAM:

Number of Current SG Teams:

12. None got added this ep as far as I know

These People Need a Fucking Therapist:

Shyla is suicidal and coming off probably years of using the sarcophagus.

SG-1 after being kidnapped and used as slave labor

Actual Planet-Saving Adults

Nothing this ep.

TEAM LOVE

The rest of the team cares enough about Daniel to try and help him re: the sarcophagus even though he's being really shitty to them.

The rest of the team's concern for Daniel when he's coming down off the sarcophagus high

Jack talking Daniel down and hugging him.

Actual Siblings

Eh.

OTPS AND BROTPS

Sam/Teal’c:

Sam asking Teal'c for a translation of kalach.

Sam/Jack:

The look they share when Daniel's telling them how Shyla thinks he's her destiny

SAM:

Sam, the Omnidisciplinary Scientist:

"Maybe its healing effects alter your brain chemistry. Increased adrenaline, the hormones that make you more aggressive and irrational." Not sure that I'd put this under Omnidisciplinary, I think it's more guesswork based on some basic biology/biochemistry.

Sam is a Fucking Badass

Nothing here really.

Sam Saves Everyone’s Ass:

Eh. Her memories of Jolinar clue everyone into the bad stuff around the sarcophagus, but I don't know that I'd term it as "saving everyone's ass"

JACK:

“For Cryin’ Out Loud” Count:

0

Running total: 19

Jack’s Pop Culture References:

"Hi-ho hi-ho. Back to work"

His reference to Daniel going "Dark Side."

Jack, your smarts are showing:

Nothing really here either. Not that he acts stupid, just not much opportunity to show smarts when you're working as slave labor down in a mine.

Favorite Jack Snark:

"We had a nice time, sir. Carter picked up some Naquadah, Teal'c made some new friends, as usual. Daniel got engaged and um... I'm gonna hit the showers."

TEAL’C:

Teal’c vs. English/Pop Culture:

Not much here.

Teal’c the Secret Teddy Bear:

Nope. He's mostly just stoic in this ep.

DANIEL:

Daniel Death Count:

0.

Running total: 4.

DAMN IT DANIEL:

Blowing off Sha're while in the throes of his addiction/withdrawal.

ANTAGONISTS:

The Shithead has a Point:

Yeah, no. The shitheads are pretty much just shitheads

THE BEST AND THE WORST:

MVP:

3/4 of SG-1 for surviving in the mine.

Biggest Shithead/Annoying Character:

Pyrus was pretty shitty. There's an explanation for it but still shitty. Daniel's not much better.

TPTB AND THEIR BULLSHIT:

WTF, TPTB?:

Eh, not all that mad at them this ep.

Next up: Thor's Chariot, where the team faces the consequences from the "Nice Job Breaking It, Hero!" they pulled in Thor's Hammer,

[ambered-glazed-sheep]

Please do go on about Doomslayer and his morals. I'm legit fascinated by him since starting the let's play I'm watching and I'd love to hear your take on him (I know literally nothing about the Doom franchise other than lots of blood and violence against demons and also badass music)

You know, a year ago when my friends asked me 'hey do you wanna play minecraft' and i said 'yeah sure' i would have never thought i would one day have a minecraft sideblog where i get questions about the personality of the main character of a shooter fps game (of all things!) that is known for its incredible violence.

But here you go:

(prepare yourself this has gotten way longer than i thought oh god, and also it has nothing to do with hermits whatsoever. warnings for language and descriptions of violence? and i assume the readmore won’t be working the way i want it to)

Ok so, Doom!

First of all, i know nothing about the old games, and i’ve only seen a minimal amount of Doom Eternal Letsplays. Most of this is based on Doom (2016). 

Ok so we all start out thinking Doomguy! It’s the guy you play in Doom. The hand that hold the gun YOU are shooting demons with. And sure, you can go trough the whole game with that mindset, but that’s boring and we are overthinking fictional characters in this house.

ID software actually managed to give Doomguy/Doomslayer a TON of personality despite him never saying a word, barely any cutscenes to show what he does when you don’t control him (at least in Doom 2016), and not a lot of other characters to interact with despite enemy monsters.

The game just leaves you little hints and snippets and that’s what makes Doomslayer so exciting to think about. Just the right levels between ‘cryptid half-god who never shows emotion and is a player-insert’ and ‘this dude’s got an AGENDA. he has PLACES TO BE’. You are him as you play, but sometimes he makes decisions on his own. But personally, i could never find myself to disagree.

First, you got the intro sequence. 

You got a unknown voice telling you: 

“They are rage. Brutal, without mercy. But you. You will be worse. Rip and Tear, until it is done.”

First of all, YO. WOW. HOLY SHIT.

The scene immediately shifts to Doomslayer waking up. He’s naked, he’s chained down somewhere, theresa SHIT TON of scars littering his arms and hands. First thing HE does, on his own behalf, is ripping off the chains by flexing a little (literal iron chains!!!), smashing a zombies head against the sarcophagus he lays in and completely obliterating said head into a bit of blood (mind you, three seconds after he woke up from a thousands of years long coma!! but we only learn that later), and then promptly gets up, picks up a pistol, and now it’s your, the players turn. This takes like 8 seconds in total. This man means BUSINESS. That’s the first thing we learn.

Second thing that strikes me is the interactions with Samuel Hayden. 

Doomslayer is patient when a computer voice tells him the status of the base. He is patient as he looks at the screens to see what is going on. (a demonic invasion, thats what). But then dear Dr. Samuel Hayden calls. 

Dr. Hayden says “Hi, i’m the boss here, i’m sure we can work together in a way that benefits us both uwu”. Doomslayer immediately grabs the PC screen and pushes it aside. His gesture says, i’m done with this. im sick of this dude. this guy is full of shit. And he’s right! And that after barely hearing two sentences from Hayden!

So the second thing we learn is that he has no time for people trying to exploit him. He hears Hayden, he has a gut feeling that this dude is a little fishy, maybe he just plain doesnt like higher ups and heads of facilities. But we learn that he IS. NOT. going to listen to this man, and his body language makes that very clear without being actually violent against the person (he doesnt destroy the Screen either! just pushes it aside very annoyed. He isn’t mindlessly destroying property here.)

This continues. 

Hayden goes ‘hey maybe don’t destroy that energy source!’ in the few seconds you dont control him, Doomslayer listens. He hesitates. He considers. Then he destroys the thing anyways. Hayden keeps telling him to stop, but Doomslayer doesnt listen. He’s got his own mind!

This was mostly about Haydens Company, the UAC, harvesting hell energy, and hurting people in the process. 

There’s a scene where Doomslayer rides an elevator. Hayden, over the comms, tells him that everyone that has died in the demon attack was a nacessary sacrifice that will bring a new future or some shit like that. the camera pans down to show some poor sods corpse at those very words. Doomslayer cracks his knuckles. he is NOT HAPPY about that, so we know he doesnt like it when human lifes are sacrificed. He destroys the communicator, so he doesnt have to listen to Haydens voice telling him lies and trying to sway him anymore. 

(then he takes out his shotgun, the doors open, metal starts playing and the doom logo is shown, but that’s more about making the player feel epic than showing doomslayers personality,,)

Now i would like to talk about VEGA, the AI that controls the mars facility. 

VEGA occasionally talks to us/the Slayer. He is very straightforward, tells us what to do and why to do it, and is generally very polite. In the story, Doomslayer listens to Vega. 

Now why does he listen to VEGA but not Hayden? 

I think it’s because Hayden tries to get him to do things that just benefit him, and Hayden is very manipulative in his words (or tries to be lol), while Vega just says (if you destroy this thing, that door will open. I think Doomslayer appreciates it when people are honest to him.

And in the end, Doomslayer on his own decides to save a backup of VEGA. VEGA didn’t ask him to, Doomslayer did that on his own. It’s not relevant to his mission, he doesnt need VEGA to go to hell to close portals and whatnot. But he does save him. Why? I think it’s because he cares. Because he’s come to like VEGA. Because Vega didn’t try to manipulate him and screw him over. 

Next up is the Slayers Testament. 

These are a bunch of writings/recordings that you find scattered in the hell levels. (i highly recommend listening to them/reading them, they are metal as fuck and give me such an immense feeling of power bc they are talking about me, the doomslayer)

These testaments were written by demons. They were genuinely afraid of the slayer. 

Quote:

Unbreakable, incorruptible, unyielding, the Doom Slayer sought to end the dominion of the dark realm.

As said, i don’t think these are purely talking about his physical strength. They are talking about his... well, mentality. His Codex. They see him as an unstoppable force. He is incorruptible. Let that sink in. Man walks trough hordes of demons and at no point ever thinks ‘yeah maybe this is a bit much’ or ‘they just keep coming this is pointless’. No. He’s unyielding. (Can you tell how much i love the words in these testaments? It’s just got such a nice ring to it.)

In battle, the Doomslayer is BRUTAL. He tears apart demons, rips their eyes out, all that. He stomps on heads like they’re water balloons and isn’t fazed at all. Nothing stops this man. (except players like me who fall off the map 5 consecutive times, but lets just imagine the doomslayer is actually like he would be if someone played the game perfectly. player skill shouldn’t be considered in my headcanons jahdjhgd) One could even argue he has fun at this, because there are some animations like ripping off a zombies arm and beating the Zombie with it, or feeding a demon it’s own heart.

I feel like that says a lot about his personality as well!

He doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t doubt himself. He doesn’t question his cause! He fights to get rid of the demons, not just the ones in his way, but every. demon. He will go out of his way to kill more demons. You could either take this as him having fun, or him following his own moral codex to get rid of every demon, or him being a not-quite-human war machine, or wanting to protect humanity from them. 

I would say it’s a healthy mix of all that :D

In older games, there was this whole backstory snippet of him returning to earth, finding that the demons had invaded his planet but also killed his pet rabbit (Daisy), and he then goes onto a 2-game long revenge trip.Take that as you will.

The last thing i would like to mention is this post.

Please watch the video. Doomguy walks trough the rows of random human guards. This is the walk of a man who doesn’t owe them SHIT. Yes, he wants to save humanity. Yes, he cares. But he also knows who he is. He knows what he did, and what he will do. He doesn’t have to justify himself in front of these shady scientists and jerky guards.THEY owe HIM, in fact. This video emits the sheer CONFIDENCE of someone who has walked trough hell multiple times and knows none of these people could even touch him. Yes, he would never kill them. He would not harm humans. But he doesn’t care about making them uncomfortable with his presence, either. He doesnt ask for permission.

(i think by now i am using the exact same words they did in that post. really, its worth the read. i think there’s a lot of repeated things between this post and that post by now but i encourage you to watch that video. its worth it.)

Also, the impact he has on the people in this room! they trip. they walk backwards. they go quiet, stutter. they are intimidated. They know he’s technically here to help and save them, but now, standing in front of them.... just wow. it really puts things into perspective. it tells the player that all the demons that he’s killed, all that the doomslayer has done... its noted. it has an impact. 

I’m not really sure where i’m going with this anymore, but watching those NPCs react to the slayers presence just adds so much more to his character. it tells us how people see him, and boy.... do they see him. 

i think it also ties a lot into how the player is made feel, controlling doomguy. all these head stomping and limp tearing animations, the guns, people being scared, watching doomslayer destroy important equipment from first pirson or pushing open doors or whatever... it just gives me such an immense feeling of power! i can’t even describe it. (...it also has nothing to do anymore with the original question but holy shit did i love playing doom for the sheer atmosphere of it. despite me being horrible at playing.)

(at the end of this i’m realizing that all of this never addressed if doomslayer is happy and content murdering demons, or if he just wants his peace and quiet but can’t help himself every time he sees a demon. i would propose to leave that up to headcanons. mine is a mix of both but in a way that makes it not angsty. like he loves to have his calm moments, but is just as happy to rip some demon’s spine out. probably gets a little itchy and impatient if he hasn’t fought in a while.)

also if you’re interested in game design and way more professional people talking about why doom 2016 is great i reccomend this documentary

...anyways it’s past 1am and this has gotten way out of hand but

tl;dr: the doomslayer is metal as fuck, he has a lot of agenda he is following, and i love him so much