#and what I get in return is 1 companion that after a patch I can now get without being evil anyway

[artistictea]

I finally got all 100% trophies in BG3! It took me 541 hours of gameplay and 4 different playthroughs to do it. It's crazy to think I've been playing this game routinely since its release and I still kept finding new things on every playthrough, truly one of the most games of all time 😭

[oomfvia]

⛧i'll fight for your life chapter 2: shelter

pairing: astarion/gender-neutral half-elf paladin tav/reader (second person)

spoilers for patch 5 epilogue

sfw, friends to lovers :)

1,823 words (3 chapters, 6,097 total words)

you can also read this work on ao3

likes/comments/reblogs always appreciated!

❥ chapter 1 ❥ chapter 3

Being the saviour of Baldur’s Gate felt less like glory, and more like the gruelling work you were used to from before the Absolutist crisis. Unlike your other friends, this city was all you had. Whether it was out of a sense of duty or simply the lack of other options, you took on the responsibility of helping to rebuild the city with a smile.

That morning, you checked the mailbox like any other. Returning to your study, you sighed as you set another hefty stack of letters onto your desk. While there were sometimes a select few mistakenly sent to the address’ late owner, most were for you. Before you knew it, the role of a gallant Baldurian hero was reduced to a glorified worker bee. Between hunting down remnants of the Absolutist cult and cleaning up after Archduke Gortash’s old propaganda launches, it left you with barely any time to search for Astarion.

As you sift through envelopes, the letter from Withers comes to you like a breath of fresh air. It only seems fitting for a paladin to be aided through divine intervention during such trying times. You shove all of the other letters from imperial houses and Flaming Fist leaders into a drawer, and focus on what to wear for the reunion at High Hall.

He would be there, after all.

At the reunion, you’re reminded of how odd it is that people can feel nostalgic over things from recent memory, you included. Your past companions all arrive at the venue one by one, bringing a smile to your face with every addition to the scene. With each new visitor, came new stories to be shared. You much prefer listening to your friends’ anecdotes, compared to how you feel the need to break out into a sheepish smile whenever they ask of your circumstances.

In a deep crevice of your heart, you can’t help but feel jealous, almost. While Lae’zel was forming alliances between races in distant lands, you were being run ragged by the patriars. While Gale was pursuing a new path in education, you were being met with complaints from supporters of the late Archduke Gortash.

“Just…Helping to get the city back to normal, I suppose.”

Their smiles are polite. Approving, even. It’s honest work, if anything. But compared to what they have to show for it, what you’ve done suddenly seems like an awfully dull six months. More importantly, you’re distracted.

Your eyes wander past tables, tents, and barrels. To your dismay, there’s no vampiric elf in sight. For some inexplicable reason, you feel the bitter taste of guilt on your tongue. You’re surrounded by friends you’ve missed dearly, all of whom you’ve endured hardships of gargantuan proportions with. And yet, just from the absence of one, you feel a crushing sense of loneliness.

Your eyes linger towards the table, featuring an appetising spread of dishes laid out lavishly. Then, to the multiple bottles of wine originating from different regions. In all of your days of juggling various tasks, when was the last time you had a drink?

Far too long ago, it seems. In the matter of a few glasses, you were now absolutely sloshed.

Who cares if Astarion doesn’t show up? He doesn’t owe us his presence. I can have plenty of fun without him. Or so you tell yourself. If even Withers couldn’t conjure Astarion up out of thin air, you were starting to lose hope in your search. But you refuse to let it ruin your evening among equally dear friends.

After a few more drinks, you tumble towards the riverside a moderate distance away from the event. It’s so unbearably warm, your whole body feels like it’s just another sip from burning up into flames. As you dip your toes into the waters, you notice how it reflects your face under the pale moonlight. Your eyes are half-lidded, and your hair was somehow tangled into a dishevelled nest. You squat, peering deeper into the water as you comb through strands of hair that refuse to stay in place, muttering under your breath.

“Darling, I haven’t seen your skin this flushed since that time at The Waning Moon.”

You hear a dulcet voice, distinctly louder than the distant sounds from the campsite. Your body stills, your fingers still lodged between your split ends. If you could hear the voice from this near, the owner should be reflected in the water. And yet, you’re only greeted by your own befuddled expression.

You turn your head slowly towards the direction of the voice, your eyes trembling. Then, you are met with the same face you have been instinctively searching for in every crowd for the past six months.

“...Astarion?”

More specifically, Astarion with blood stains all over his blouse. He raises his hands with an added flourish, with the same sense of showmanship unbefitting of his appearance.

“Apologies for the lateness. The life of an adventurer can get rather messy.”

“An…An adventurer?”

The vampire laughs, as if he was already expecting you to react with surprise. Of course you would. You were the one known for being righteous to the point of foolishness, and he was known for practically the opposite.

“It turns out that no one actually cares about murder, as long as you murder the right people. And apparently I’m rather good at it.”

For someone who has left you in such grief for the past six months, Astarion is far too casual about his whereabouts for your liking. You furrow your brows as you frown at Astarion, thoroughly unamused.

“I was looking for you,” you utter quietly. Disproportionately quiet, compared to the rising heat in your chest. You couldn’t quite place a finger on whether it was due to the alcohol settling in your system, or petty annoyance at how nonchalant he was being in contrast to your previous helplessness. Considering how you felt like a fool, you decide that it’s the latter.

“Really?” Astarion asks, his voice softening as well. Instead of with words, you simply respond by scrunching up your nose.

“I…I’m sorry. I felt ashamed.”

Your expression softens slightly at Astarion’s apology. He continues, a wry smile on his face, faint lines emerging against his skin.

“I felt like I’d lost everything, just as you claimed your victory. I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

And just like that, your anger extinguishes as easily as it was ignited. During your journey, you were so caught up in your own insecurities. Wallowing in your own self-pity, it had never crossed your mind that Astarion could have had his own. In hindsight, it was such a simple thread of logic to follow, and yet it felt like a grand revelation. All you can do is stare at Astarion blankly, your eyes as wide as an owlbear's.

“...Hold that thought. Would you like a drink?”

Compared to yours, Astarion’s goblet remains practically untouched as you sit by the water. You inhale deeply, your cheeks flushed in a warm pink. As he speaks, you blink rapidly, trying your utmost to absorb every single word he says. You make a valiant effort to maintain your focus, even if it feels as if your head is partly submerged in water.

“Time lent perspective. It wasn’t your victory, it was ours. And for all I’d lost, I had gained so much more.”

Astarion’s words sound strangely muffled, and his mannerisms vague through your hazy eyes. It all melts into a wonderful blur. You give him a lazy nod, along with a hum of acknowledgment.

“Are you alright, my dear? I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink for the night.”

You frown, taking a deep breath before responding. Even if only marginally, you feel your focus readjust for a second. “I’m fine, just…go on.”

Unfortunately, your concentration breaks immediately after, and you return to staring quietly at the indistinct shape of Astarion shrugging.

“I had freedom, strength — a whole new life. And it was time to live it.”

The corners of your lips curl into a smile at Astarion’s last words. You never expected any sort of return for that time in Cazador’s palace when you had dissuaded him from completing the Rite of Profane Ascension. And yet, you can’t help but feel a great satisfaction swelling up in your chest. In that moment, you had made an irreversible change to Astarion’s life. A change for the better.

“From the moment I first threatened you, I knew you were someone special. Someone to take on the world with.”

Astarion smiles in a way that’s unusually sentimental for him. That, along with the alcohol warming your body, makes you feel a strange stir at the pit of your stomach. Silently, you put down your goblet with a soft thud.

“I will miss our time together. But then again, maybe this isn’t goodbye so much as it’s…’See you later, darling’.”

Despite the objective beauty of Astarion’s words, you can’t help but disagree vehemently. If that wasn’t a goodbye, what is? You remember the frustration of the day you had watched Astarion burn, jagged edges along the fragments of his skin. The desperation as you ran after him, sprinting past debris and rubble.

You look into Astarion’s eyes, swallowing thickly as you prepare to make yet another irreversible decision. One that doesn’t seem quite as wise as the one you had made during the Black Mass.

“...That new life you were talking about.”

“Hm?” Astarion hums, his eyebrows raising in curiosity.

“Is there any place in that life for me?”

“I must be so heavy. Please, let me down. I’m fine,” you insist, trying very hard to not sway in Astarion’s hold. Your hands clutch onto his shoulders for dear life, your knees shaking against either side of his waist.

Astarion scoffs at your words, seemingly offended at how you’ve just underestimated his strength. “I’m not being careful because you’re heavy. I’m being careful to make sure you don’t vomit into my hair.”

The vampire’s answer shuts you up, and you simply let your body meld against his back. It feels just a touch broader than you had expected it to be, which does strange things to your pulse. Silently, you pray to every possible deity in the hopes that he won’t notice your disproportionately loud heartbeat.

With a soft groan, Astarion lifts your body up and starts to walk. His footsteps are even and slow, in a painfully tender act of care.

“Hold on tight now, we’re heading home.”

Home.

The word echoes in your head. Clearly, Astarion wasn’t talking about that decrepit house that you had haphazardly moved into after the battle with the Netherbrain. And he was most definitely not talking about Cazador’s palace. So where was "home"?

You don’t know exactly where you're headed, but you know that it is by Astarion’s side. That, in itself, already feels like home.

[slocumjoe]

⚡Gage Catchup Lightning Round⚡

Since I haven't written him in every post, just going back and giving him his very own variety hour of everything he's missed

Biggest complaint about writing; I absolutely hate that the Minutemen can't be recognized as the absolute juggernauts that you can turn them into. It's everywhere in the game, but with Gage, in particular, its such a missed opportunity. I talked about this in earlier but just know I still hate it. Nuka World on a Minutemen playthrough is kind of a flop in general. You go there, you kill everything, done. Being able to confront Gage with a Minutemen army that blows the dick off of any raider gang he's ever seen in comparison is, like, a golden goose egg. But its fine 🙃

Sole breaks down crying in his arms; 1/10 C.C, 0/10 I.C. Doesn't matter what kind of relationship they have. Gage was not the person to do this out of the blue to. If they're close, he'll care, and want to help, but tough shit, he's Porter Gage. He's not meant for that kind of stuff. Maybe if he had a lead up, some kind of warning, he'd be better suited to...not be useless. Honestly, most likely companion to straight up duck when they go for him, flip them over on the ground. If he lets them, Gage keeps his arms and face up, stares at the ceiling and pretends it isn't happening. That's if they're close. If they aren't, whether they're mostly strangers or just buddies, you're getting flipped like a pancake.

1 headcanon; Stress eater, but doesn't want to waste food as a nervous tic, so settles for smoking. Keeps his mouth busy. Will also chew on shit, like necklace chains or pens.

2 headcanons;

Was very close with his family until the day he left. It wasn't a growing resentment, it was an epiphany one day after a raid. Before that one day, no one would have ever thought that Porter, who was shaping up to be a fine young man, a good older brother, great with the cows and goats, would run off in the night, and later become a raider. Was a momma's boy, always helping her around the house. Especially close to his grandparents, got a lot of his personality from his crotchety ass grandfather who rarely had a good thing to say about anyone. Except Porter. Porter was the favorite child.

Never returned home because he knew, for a fact, that his name was going around after the Conner incident, and the idea of seeing his family when they knew what he was now, made him sick to his fucking stomach. He says he doesn't care. But 16 year old Porter Gage sat in a backroom of an old bar with a cold beer to his now-blind eye, and bawled.

Physique headcanons; Dad bod for daaaayyys. Strong, lean arms, very broad shoulders, tiny little waist and hips. Taller, 6 feetish. Toned body but with a softer belly. His hands are square, veiny, boney, and have long fingers. Scarred around the nails from chewing obsessively he was younger. Not about physique, but about his body, so; has tattoos. Very simple designs, your basic tribal patterns on the torso and shoulders. Would get more if he wasn't older, and now smart enough to be wary of strange needles. Missing more teeth than he's comfortable with. Lot of body hair all around, but centered mostly on his chest and happy trail. As for the eye, the injury was the fusion cell on his rifle getting shot and blowing up...as he was aiming down the ironsight. The eye is still there, just completely fucked and useless. The skin is obviously burned, and becomes itchy and painful in colder weather. Needs the patch so he doesn't scratch or rub it. Doesn’t use laser weapons anymore. Insecure about his appearance if in a meaningful relationship, even more so if his partner really is, as he says, a stunner.

Laughing headcanons; Doesn’t laugh often, keeps that shit to himself. But...if you can catch him, his laugh is very rough, snorting, lots of little catches of breath. Crosses his arms and covers his mouth when laughing. His eyes squint heavily, and his crows feet are much more noticeable. His laughing is on the quieter side, snickering to himself. But if its a full-blown fit, will tear up laughing. Wheezy. Kind of seal-like in his laughing-laughing.

Variety NSFW headcanons; Bit on the bigger side but not enough to be worrying. Has a scar on his dick, under the foreskin. Will not explain because he himself has no fucking idea. B.O IS SO FUCKING BAD. Would die happy if given a titjob. Once crossdressed for a partner and has to take a moment to cringe every time he remembers it. Not the crossdressing thing, the guy he was fucking. Not someone worth doing that for. If he's in a shower, he's jerking off. Its like...the only reason he takes them.

[moonstonedrawsrandomly]

Conflict of interest 1 🟢

*swearing*

Noelia walked into the room where Bishop Leshy was. It was quiet, and quite humid. Seeing the monsters crawl on the walls was unsettling. No guards, no followers, no nothing.  Leshy moves in the darkness

“Something moved”

“Don’t be startled, Grip me tightly!”

Hades said. She grips the hilt of the sword tightly. Now she can see the silhouette of Leshy. She shivered

“Little lamb, you finally came to me.”

Leshy towered over the little lamb. She stared at him, wide eyed. His eye was bandaged, still bleeding after millennia of treatment.

“Even with HIS power, you are no match for me…many have come and have fallen before you… and you will as well! come, let us end this quickly. “

This fight was nothing like the smaller worms, he looked absolutely threatening. And he hits hard. Even without his appendages, he is a threat to behold.

‘Sheesh! No wonder many fell to him so easily! He ain’t nothing to sneeze at!’

She thought. Still gripping Hades tightly.

“You dare join HIS side?!? The side of the traitor we locked away?!? You deserve to die a painful death like the others!”

As she evaded his attacks, her mind wandered. What other poor lambs were caught in the same position as she was? Men, women, maybe even children? Why were WE involved?!? WHY US?!?

Leshy got a good hit in before she was flung across the room, hitting an enemy and losing Hades. Hades transformed back to his hat

“Lamb! Over here!”

Before she could get up, her leg was grabbed and she was flung towards the ceiling twice, she laid there limp.

“And such, the last one falls-“

Not realizing the ceiling was coming apart. Leshy gets out of the way, while Hades grabbed Noelia.

“Get up lamb! You have a job to do!”

“Hurry up and fight!”

“Worthless! All you lambs are worthless! You are the lamb of prophecy and THIS is what you do? Just to die here”

Surprisingly, Noelia gets up, but instead of picking up Hades, she picks up a stick in the opposite direction.

“That’s more like it, now fight-“

THWACK!

“Ow! What the-“

CRACK!

“Ow! Stop!”

“ILL FIGHT YOU! HOWS THAT?!?!”

Leshy stood there, kinda in shock at what he is seeing. The lamb picked up a stick and just started beating up Red crown. Leshy was, actually amused.

“Well, this is quite the outcome. Beat him lamb, beat him within an inch of his life!”

Leshy cheered her on as she got angrier with the hat

“I DIDNT ASK FOR THIS!”

“I don’t care if you did!”

Despite Leshy being impressed with the stick beating from noelle AND the fact that this vessel had some sense to retaliate, the bickering began to get sad at this point. Leshy pounded on the wall.

“Well, this is just getting sad then. Tell you what lamb, leave this place, and I will spare your life”

Noelia, with a black eye, turns to leave. Red crown was pissed

“You’re just going to leave? Do you have no morals?!?”

Noelia looked back at him with pure distaste, and disgust

“Your asking ME if I have morals?!? This is not my fight! It never was! YOU can fight him. I’m going home”

She said. Leshy looked at the red crown.

“For once I agree with the lamb, this isn’t her fight…it never was. I don’t suppose you will fight me without a vessel, Red crown. I could always just crush you where you stand…after all…it would be nice to bring you to my dear Shamura. I’m sure he’d love to turn you into a statue for his desk”

Knowing that he’d be outnumbered, he retreats to find Noelia.

“The Bitch…”

Hades muttered under his breath. He ended up returning to the camp, only to realize that the camp was strangely deserted. He floated everywhere, but couldn’t find anyone around.

“The temple, it’s mass time anyway”

He perked in and saw the few people in her cult, patching her up.

“It’s okay dear leader, you’ll get them next time!”

“It’s so strange for the red crown to just leave you like that. What an awful companion”

They whispered. Noelia shook her head

“I’m not proud of my behavior either, so we’re both even. Oww…”

She said. One of the subjects, a cow looked upon her.

“Will HE get mad? He won’t kill you, will he?”

“If he does, who cares…if he doesn’t, I don’t care…”

Finally, one of them spoke up, the Cow did

“I care!”

They said. Looking into the eyes of their leader. It seemed like the sentiment was shared with everyone else.

“You rescued me from great peril, so I care 💯 if you die! Please don’t die!”

“Please take care of yourself as you did for us!”

“Promise us!”

They said, they were almost sobbing. Noelia realized that the Church of Hope, really does depend on not just her, but her followers. Almost like a big family. Noelle, gets up all patched up.

“The Church of hope depends on the Faith and Hope of its people. Where there is Faith, there is Hope and where there is Hope, there is Strong faith”

She said. One of the followers said this:

“If anyone says that it is hopeless, we should say ‘we don’t speak those words in the Church of Hope. There is always hope for tomorrow! The good guys always come out on top!’ “

Noelia, after all of that, finally smiled. Her followers smirked and smiled back.

She then looked out the window. Seeing Hades.

“Thank you everyone, but I’m afraid I need you all to head back to your chores. Hades has returned.”

They all left, one follower leaving the door open so that Hades can fly in. He doesn’t say anything.

“Fine. I’ll speak first-“

“THE ONLY THING YOU SHOULD BE SAYING AND DOING IS GROVELING AT MY FEET FOR FORGIVENESS! I am an entity of the one who waits and I will NOT be treated like that”

“Then leave”

“Where did you get this level of disrespect from? In front of the one who waits you acted like a scared little lamb, but for me you are this bratty little Bitch!”

“Oh really? Then kill me then! I didn’t ask to be reborn a slave to the one who waits! I DIDNT ASK TO HAVE MY LOVED ONES KILLED IN A MEANINGLESS QUARREL! I’m atheist for gods sake!”

“And I didn’t ask to assist you!”

“THEN DONT!”

“YOU KNOW THAT IS NOT AN OPTION!”

“I didn’t want to kill anyone, I can care less about the one who waits and his problems! The bishops sealed him away? Good! But how because of HIS PROPHECY, my whole species was wiped out! He didn’t even ask me how i felt, I was just sent to do his bidding! I didn’t even get to meet my family! All dead because of HIM”

Noelia , in tears points to the altar, Hades can see the portal open up. HE is listening now. A tentacle quietly creeps towards her.

“So why should I WILLINGLY agree to this? No, I refuse! I won’t do it! He has nothing to hurt me over, I don’t even want to run an evil and despicable cult just for someone to rule the world. So just kill me!”

~if that’s what you want~

The tentacle grabbed her tightly and sucked her into the portal. Hades looked on.

“Hope you got what you deserved, Bitch”

He said. Then he sat on the alter.

“The one who waits will have to pick someone else to do his bidding from now on, I wonder who he will pick”

He said. Noelia was sucked into the dense underworld that is HIS domain, a terrifying domain in itself. When she is brought to the domain, she doesn’t scream or yell for mercy. She is eerily quiet. Too quiet.

“What is this? You don’t fear me lamb?”

“Just kill me and get it over with”

“No, it’s too much fun to watch you and red crown fight. You both being miserable was quite humerous.”

Noelia’s face did not change.

“Ah, do not fret, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now. But you have too much promise my dear…but I believe an explanation will help you rekindle that faith you have in me”

He begins. It’s a lot of things

“-The bishops saw my incredulous power that they were afraid of it, including the highest Bishop, Shamura. They sealed me away so that they can stay in power-“

Noelia nods. She doesn’t believe a single word coming out of his mouth. She is skeptical, however, her being defiant isn’t doing her any good. Despite she doesn’t care if she is killed, doesn’t mean he will keep her. But then he says this.

“How about this. If you do a good job, I will keep you alive to serve me, how does that sound?”

Noelia nodded. Then the portal opened up again.

“Good, then get along with Hades so he will work with you, after all, neither of you can survive this world without each other.”

In the real world, the tentacle spits Noelia out. At the shock of Hades.

“I thought you were dead”

She picks up Hades, and walks to the backroom with him.

“I have to change the plan, rest, we will go back out eventually to take down Leshy, but before we do that…”

She stopped

“I need to ask him a few questions”

TBC

[princess-of-the-corner]

All things considered, I have to ask what the Winter Solstice 2-parter would look like in the Avatar!Ty Lee AU.

Given the way the Avatar Spirit split, something interesting is bound to happen there.

THis two parter is long so here we go:

The Winter Solstice Part 1:

So Aang is still feelig guilty for everything that went down 100 years ago. He hasn't reached the breaking point yet, but he's mostly just confused on whatever he and Ty Lee have going on. They both went into the Avatar State? But while Ty Lee can clearly at least get a reaction from other Elements, Aang only has Airbending.

And they come across that burned patch of land and yay everyone's fuckin guilty!

They get brought to the village that's being attacked by the Spirit, and are told what's going on. Aang and Ty Lee both have a kind of 'we have no clue what's happening but hey the very least we can do is try and figure it out?". Which does not reassure anyone.

However, when the Spirit does show up, it seems to totally ignore Ty Lee in favor of going after Aang.

Of course other members of the Gaang do the 'well this isn't working let's help!' and we still get Sokka (And maybe someone else but it doesn't matter who) yoinked by the Spirit. Aang and Ty Lee give chase, but the Spirit disappears before they catch it and so they head back.

When they get back, most of the group is like 'hey where's Aang and why is Ty Lee talking to herself?". And Ty Lee is just "He's??? Right there????? Huh?????"

But Aang is currently doing his Spitit Fuckery and Ty Lee can only see him because of their connection. The only other person who can see Aang is Iroh because him being able to see the Spirits is Canon. So he can actually tell them there's some Spirit Fuckery. He starts to explain why but that's when the Dragon shows up.

While both Ty Lee and Iroh can see the Dragon, Aang is the only one who can interact with it rn. So he goes off on his little journey to find that he has to go to that one temple.

Aang comes back and is able to calm the Spirit down and everyone who got kidnapped is returned.

Now we have the reverse of the confusion because Ty Lee had no luck at all with any of the Spirit World stuff this episode. The only thing she could do was see Aang and the Dragon, but the Spirit World didn't react to her.

-

The Winter Solstice Part 2:

Flying past the blockade goes actually a little better. Zuko suggests some kind of camoflauge idea, which has a combination of Air and Water Bending to give them some proper cloud cover. It's not perfect but it does get them past without as much trouble as Canon lmao!

They still get a 'warm' welcome at the Temple, with only one of the sages helping them out while the others are assholes.

Actually getting past that fancy door is a lot easier because they have three extra Firebenders! They do need five but we have options here like 1.) having Sokka's explosion idea actually work, 2.) Ty Lee, while not really trained in anything, is able to produce fire at least, 3.) Honestly? Iroh, Zuko, and Azula are are powerful as hell so they might be able to fake it with a second shot.

Of course that's when the other Sages and also the so are the soldiers that followed them from the blockade!

Aang and Ty Lee manage to jump through the door before it locks everyone out. And while they get to talk to Roku, everyone else gets to deal with Zhao.

Zhao is a cocky motherfucker and is quick to taunt the 'Banished Prince', 'Runaway Princess' and 'Failed General' for having 'fallen so far that they'd join the enemy. This is the first time Katara and Sokka hear about their companions being any kind of 'important' instead of just random Fire Nation citizens and they're like ??????. Which. To be fair, it's not so much that they were hiding that as 1.) they forgot to mention it and 2.) not really important since they're on the other side anyway, old titles don't count.

Meanwhile! Aang and Ty Lee talk to Roku. And yeah it's still Roku guiding them because, while the cycle did get a kickstart and a new host with Ty Lee's reincarnations 1.) Aang is the one more connected to the Spirit shit and 2.) none of the ones inbetween them were Fully Realized Avatars, having only learned at most two Elements and never going into the Avatar State.

Anyway!

On top of what Roku explained in Canon about the Comet, he also gets to give them a basic rundown of how the Split Avatar thing happened and how they have to work together to be 'The Avatar'.

Then, like in Canon, we get them channeling Roku (with it working very 'two kids in a trenchcoat'), and him bringing down the whole temple.

Which, can I just say, is such a badass scene in Canon.

[imalwaystiredzzz]

C5: Sisyphus happy. Yan Zhongli x Reader

#genshin x reader

Warning: Yandere behavior, unhealthy relationships

< Sisyphus happy chapters >

Once, from a time long before records and memories were written on ink and paper, Morax walked upon vast lands rich in history, watered by tears of tragedy and love lost. He turns to an old woman who stood before her destroyed village, eyes downcast and hollow on bodies drowned by the war of an unrelenting sea and the mountain that does not bow. 

Morax did not understand, maybe once when he had held a goddess’ body to his own, but to him that was one thing and this is another. This is love of a mortal that does not even know who the child that cried next door nor the man that walked past their door, this is to love a complete stranger and the love that Guizhong once had when she was still by his side.

“What must I do to learn the love of mortals?” He asks, voice devoid of emotion; genuine curiosity and the hope to understand beneath.  

The old woman smiled, warm and full of wisdom as if her short years were thousands compared to the god. “To love mortals, one must sacrifice eternity and learn of the passing time. Of death and partings. The gods have forgotten that they may live long but even you have an end, it is the same thing that pains us yet we find delight in.”

He didn’t understand then, those words ring true and wise as Cloud Retainer’s advice to his ears on leading the people that he had now to care for. Even so, he still finds himself wondering, “What would Guizhong have done?”

In his heart, he knows that she would’ve understood and took a moment to explain; unlike the way time leaves nothing but confusion in its wake, only pondering and no straight answers?

Even as hundreds of years pass, when all that remains of that old woman is nothing but ashes on the soil and the land had been turned to marsh, the people traveling and settling in a mountain, and the war marching on to its bloody conclusion; Morax found that answer to be much like the dumbbell that he may never come to solve. 

But once more, reminiscent of his unexamined love with the goddess had bloomed too late, fate had played him right into its hands. 

Because the answer had come in the form of you- still a child, a bud in the nursery of glaze lilies under the morning sun. You and your small hands that gripped the end of his robes, with teary eyes that looked at the dying people and held these strangers hand in their last breath with as much intensity for a small comfort to let them know they did not die alone.

“Will the war end soon?” Your small voice asked him, even Mountain Shaper had not the stomach to look at a child’s plea for peace and spout lies.

“I am trying to end it, as fast as I can.” 

“Then this is for you.” You reached into your pocket and gave him a dried glazed lily contained in glass, “thank you for trying though we cannot give much back.” You bow, as courtesy knowing that you had just talked to the very god that protected the lands you step on and ran back to the shack that housed the sick and injured, your parents much too busy to notice you had snuck out. 

Blissfully unaware that the god of geo, gripping the gift in between his hands, amber eyes following your form and telling himself that humans have much to learn and yet they surprise him nonetheless, just like as his love used to tell him.

But even answers are confusing, much like a child who asks why is 1+1=2 and the process of it, he didn’t understand till he saw you once more. Not yet a lady but not quite the child that you used to be. Now you are the girl who provides healing, growing up to be a herbalist like your mother and no longer simply holding a basket of them for your father. Carefully, with your mortal hands you comfort the injured beyond salvation as the calamities of gods that hold much power rages on. 

Surrounded by dying men of the war, miasma, curses and death lurking in the air, in his eyes you remained untouched. Unblemished, as if the air in your little bubble had been purified by innocence and unconditional love for the crowd of strangers, neither pitying them for death nor numb to their tragedy. Then for a second he thought he saw her - the glaze lilies and the goddess that he loved so much and he begins to wonder if she’s come back to him through you.

“I should thank you for treating the wounded.” He tells the man before him, the bags of herbs laying behind his form and a sigil in hand, “use this in times of need, when the people are crying and I am away, surely the adeptis are quick to answer and would not turn you away.” 

“My lord, Rex Lapis, there is no need to thank us. Knowing that you protect the people is enough, we are just a family of healers who help the ones in need.” Your father was a grateful man, and he can see where you get your eyes, especially your kind heart who reaches out to those in need, not because he seeks power or his blessings.

“Even so, Liyue will remember your kindness but none more so than I, Rex Lapis.” 

He does not know if you remember him nor what you did, only that when he dons a mortal face to take a walk in the calms before the storm, he finds himself wandering to your garden, mostly on cold nights where you would just sing to the lilies and watch them, with unfading enchantment, bloom. 

In a distant memory of an old lover, he hears the same voice but now there stood you. Now a lady, barely a woman with your innocence and mischief.

And he knows that this is wrong, mortals are fleeting as the dust, that he can never grasp with his two hands. Wherever his heart is on anything, other than Liyue, it only ends in tragedy. And oh, how ironic of it all that if you really were his goddess that had found her way back to him, why this form? Why a mortal who is a flower that will wither compared to a mountain that does not crumble?

“It’s a beautiful song, pardon me for interrupting but may I know where you have learned it?”

“Only if you tell me what the god of earth is doing in a place like this, barely even concealed?” Playful, you smile at him playfully as if you knew all the time that he had spent staring from afar and he was not an immortal that could smite the very life out of those pretty eyes.

“The breeze carried your voice and I wondered where you had learned to entice it to your will.” He couldn’t really put a finger when it began, when your singing had lured him like a siren to the depth of the sea.

“You befriend the wind, unlike the earth, you do not command rather ask of it like a companion,” was your simple answer and he smiles like he has found something long lost. You drown him in your presence, but he is not breathless; rather he sighs filled with curiosity like a child who has more to learn from the world that he had been in for thousands of years. 

You who had rekindled a reason for his actions, much like Guizhong. This love does not ruffle his heart out of his rib cage, the dust settles and it is as calm as you talking about herbs in this small patch of garden late at night and as calm as the things settle falling into place in his beloved city by the gentle waves of the sea.

“What happened to them after?” You ask your husband, the snow falls outside and you are oh so exhausted to the bone as if the cold had taken all your warmth. He smiles and brushes your cheeks that lost their flush and your skin cold as a corpse, his arms glows gold in the intricate cracks, and you know that this is a bedtime story - though not quite for the night but for the long winter.  

The memory scratches at the back of your mind to be remembered, but a part of you warns that you wouldn’t like how it ends. 

“According to the books, the lord of geo took his love to the heavens.” He finishes with a chuckle of the irony in it all, a kiss to your temple as your eyes drop, heavy and slumber dragging you to its clutches.

Then finally, Zhongli smiles to bid you goodnight.

He watches you sleep soundly. Sleep if humans can even call it that with the lack of breathing, as still as a corpse that had died peacefully in bed while he is left to wonder of a future that had things ended the way his winter story did.

War ensures losts. Victories demand sacrifices. And the price to pay was always his love.

Zhongli would like to believe that had you died of a natural cause: sickness, accident or of old age where he would have held your aging body, he could’ve had the strength to let you pass on.

Rex Lapis would have had your funeral handled by the esteemed WangSheng, and took your passing as another promise to meet on the other side.

But Morax knows, he could never really.

Never let you go, even after thousands of years and all that you know had returned to the soil. Even when the truths of history had been forgotten by the people and you are nothing but a distant whisper to this land, a footnote to his folklore.

Not even now, when every winter is a reminder of the way he held your cold body against his chest, “I worry about you.” You told him with a supposed to be parting smile, how pitiful must he be for a dying mortal that had not even lived half their life to worry about him. 

“Why are you saying goodbye, my love? You aren’t supposed to say goodbye, not yet. It’s much too early,” He tells you with a broken laugh, the war is over like you had asked of him the first time. He is an archcon, the land is his to rule and care, and you are supposed to live many many peaceful years with him, but here you are the embers of war digs its claws in your frail body and had robbed you of life.

 Why does the war take and take and take and he who fights only lose things that he keeps to heart? 

He doesn’t relent, even if it means breaking the laws of nature itself.

Even when you wake in spring, and you look at him with those empty eyes and ask who he is. At Least you’re here, still there somewhere and it might take thousands of years and more, when the mountain has crumbled against time, one day he believes that you will wake again with love in your lips and warmth in your hands.

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus Chapter 7

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him…

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue Chapter 1   Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

The grey man was dead.

The grey man looked like he had been dead for some time.

What little skin he had remaining hung loosely from the bone. The eye sockets were empty, the patches of remaining hair were stringy and dirty. The skull had caved in around the crossbow bolt, revealing an awful wriggling mass of maggots on the inside. The stench of rotting flesh, which Roman had only been able to smell up close before, now filed the room, making him gag.

Roman squeezed his eyes shut, wishing desperately for whatever glamour had made it so hard to see the details of the grey man’s face to return. He griped Mittens’ soft fur tightly with his good hand, earning him a disgruntled meow.

“What the fuck.” A voice muttered.

Unseen by Roman, a figure emerged from the doorway. One with skin bleached white under the lamp light and eyes that seemed to glow an unnatural shade of violet. Most of him was hidden under a dark cloak, save for the fearsome looking crossbow he held at his hip.

Had there been anyone left to see, Virgil would no doubt have made an intimidating sight. At least until he reached out one foot to poke at the grey man's body and recoiled with an undignified ‘eeeeeew!’ when the flesh gave way easily under the pressure.

Virgil had served more years then he cared to remember in the Finaley’ed army. He had seen many dead bodies. That did not make it any better to hear one squelch.

“Okay.” He called, “Okay, the coast is clear and I shot a dead guy.”

Roman heard a second pair of footsteps approaching before a new voice asked: “Did you retrieve the bolt?”

“The bolt that is covered in maggots? No. No I did not.”

“That’s a waste of resources.”

“That is not my main problem with the corpse in the basement Loga- no don’t touch it!”

“This looks like several months of decay- but there’s no surrounding detritus – do you think they moved it here? For what purpose?”

“I don’t care! Maybe it’s just…some, some unlucky bath house guy that got left down here. Who knows! Just help me find the damm cat.”

“Ah yes,” Roman could hear the disdain in Logan’s voice, “The magic cat.”

On the ground, obscured from their view by the network of pipes, Roman kept his eyes firmly shut. So long as his eyes were shut, he was listening to Logan and Virgil’s bickering and was seconds away from rescue.

But what if he opened his eyes and they weren’t there?

Julius had been found of testing his curses’ limits in this area. He would order Romulus to ‘see’ imaginary monsters in the shadows and then have him describe them. Or to recount conversations that never happened. Or to forget ones that had. None of this research had ever been particularly successful - he couldn’t be ordered to alter reality, even in the privacy of his own head – but Julius had never quite given up on it.

What if he had found a way to make it work?

Roman could hear his own heartbeat, the fast paced thump melding with the rush of water in the pipes that surrounded him, making his head throb and his whole body tremble.

What if it wasn’t Virgil and Logan there at all? What if it was Niki and Marcus back again, or Lucius himself, or no one at all?

What if it wasn’t even Julius doing it, just his own pain-addled mind playing tricks on him?

Romulus bit back a whimper, squeezing his arms tight around his middle.

This was too much for Mittens, who let out a yowl of protest and wriggled out of Roman’s grip.

“Oh!” He gasped, eyes flying open “Sorry!”

Mittens ignored his apology, scampering away through the open door and disappearing into the gloom of the corridor. There was a shout, a sudden rush of footsteps and a loud clang followed by a short curse as someone tripped on one of the pipes running along the floor.

And then two men were standing over him. Twin expression of relief morphing quickly into concern.

Virgil swallowed hard, the healers eyes flicking rapidly over each visible injury before meeting Roman’s own.

“Hey there Princy.” Virgil said softly.

***

The journey back through the corridors was a lot slower than their journey in. At least Logan had managed to retrieve one of the lanterns from the maintenance room so he was no longer relying on clinging to the back of Virgil’s cape to navigate.

When they had initially followed the….cat….to the bathhouse they’d thought their luck was beginning to change. It was coronation day, all businesses were closed; it should have been an easy matter to sneak in. When Virgil had scaled the opposing buildings for some roof top reconnaissance however he had come back grim faced – the upper floors were full of soldiers.

The design on their uniform matched the symbol Lucy had drawn the night before, and that Logan had identified in the library that morning. It belonged to the house of Orenlla in Notaleveale. It was not three ‘Vs’ as Lucy had thought, but a stylised version of the three largest peaks on the Sarindu mountain range, which marked the border between Notaleveale and the middle kingdoms. The man she had seen had apparently been wearing his clasp upside down.

Despite his success, Logan had left the library disappointed. Ornella was a noble house in Notaleveale but not one significant enough to warrant a permanent residence in the middle kingdom city of Steveange. It was surely possible to find out where the contingent were staying – the townsfolk seemingly obsessed with the movement of the visiting nobility- but the librarians he spoke to all gave different suggestions, if any at all. Checking every possible address was going to take days.

As desperate as Logan had been feeling, at least he didn’t return to the meeting point with a cat.

Patton had gone to see the crone – or ‘Mama Tay’, as she apparently insisted Patton call her - who had no new information as to where Roman had gone or why he had left, but who had offered to help find him anyway.

Using her cat.

(“I don’t like it.” Virgil said.

“Thank you Virgil.” Logan said, relived to find at least one of his companions hadn’t lost their minds.

“It’s blood magic”

“It’s a CAT!”)

Apparently, when Mittens had scratched Roman at the crone’s – Mama Tay’s – house, it had collected enough blood for a simple locator spell. And Patton, bless him, had agreed to swap a bushel of fresh food from the market for an hours use of the magical bard seeking cat.

Logan had despaired.

Logan wasn’t quite ready to eat his words (dogs could be trained to track blood scents couldn’t they? Why not a cat? There was a reasonable explanation somewhere, surely) but even he had to admit, Mittens had been a lot more successful than any of them.

After Virgil had returned from the rooftop shaking his head, Mittens had meowed piteously until they followed him to a side street, where thin slits set at ground level vented hot air from the bathhouse basement. The cat had slipped in easily, and after a few minutes debate, Logan and Virgil had wiggled their way in after.

They’d used a rope to reach the ground, finding themselves at the base of a set of stairs. There was a soft glow at the top, presumably the main floor of the house, enough to illuminate Mittens’ tail as he trotted off deeper into the basement.

It was only Virgil’s night vision that prevented them from breaking their necks on the next set of stairs, but eventually they had made their way to the a well-lit and uncomfortably warm maintenance room.

And to Roman.

An injured Roman. A glassy-eyed Roman who could barely stand and started shivering as soon as they left the heat of the room.

“He’s going into shock.” Virgil muttered, fixing his cape around Roman’s shoulders. He pulled it tight, wrapping the ends securely, but making Roman whimper in pain. Not knowing what to do, Logan just held the lantern higher. It illuminated the cut on Roman’s sallow face, and the bruises that surrounded it. Bruises which continued over his shoulders and no doubt down his back. Logan had seen the stick, lying next to the corpse, it’s end strained with blood from where the skin had split.

Stupidly, he wished he’d taken the time to break it into a hundred little pieces.

When they reached the first set of stairs, they paused to let Roman catch his breath. His breathing was shallow and he slumped heavily against Logan’s side.

Logan had once watched Roman hop on one foot for almost a mile rather than swallow his pride and admit he needed help. Logan exchanged a glance with Virgil, not bothering to keep the panic from his face.

Virgil let out a long exhale an reached over to squeeze Logan’s shoulder reassuringly, shifting himself to take some of the bard’s weight.

“He’s not going to be able to climb out the way we came in.” Virgil murmured.

“Obviously.” Logan nodded.

That was okay. They had a plan B.

As if on cue, a distant roar rang out above them, followed by quite a lot of screaming.

“Issat Patton?” Roman asked, staring into the darkness with unfocused eyes.

“Mmhmm”, Virgil leaned over and pushed some of Roman’s damp hair away from his face. “He was meant to come get us if we weren’t out in twenty minutes. I think he’s early.”

“There’s at les’ a dozen of ‘em.” Roman slurred “Niki said.”

“Patton can handle it.” Virgil said firmly, though his eyes flickered to the ceiling, betraying his nervousness. “Can you walk?”

Roman nodded, though he needed both their help to actually manage it. It was painfully slow going, with Roman unsuccessfully trying to hide a wince of pain with each step.

The first flight of stairs was relatively short, but by the time they had reached the top Roman’s shaking was so bad it was making Logan’s own teeth rattle. Still, they pressed on, almost dragging the bard between them to the base of the much larger set of stairs that would take them to street level.

Here the noises from the floor above were much louder – the clash of steel on steel reverberating down the stairs.

Logan stared at the next obstacle, uncertain. There were what amounted to five flights, with a small flat platform at each turning point. There was a banister running each side of the stairs, but it was missing in several places. What was there didn’t look like it would hold much weight.

Above them, there was an enormous crash followed by a bellow of almost inhuman rage.

“Frog mode?” Roman asked drowsily.

“Frog mode.” Virgil said grimly.

The berserkers of Krutova painted their faces with the green and blue mud from the rivers and swamps that saturated their forest home. Legend said they could lie in wait for hours, hidden under the water, using hollow reeds to breath before leaping out on unsuspecting enemies with a monstrous frenzied rage, dragging their opponents to a watery grave – assuming they didn’t, quite literally, rip them apart first.

Logan had never seen Patton paint his face. And the big man did not like to talk about his time at war. But Logan had seen him fight off more than a dozen men in a bar brawl without breaking a sweat. He’d once seen him wrestle a wild boar just for fun.

Still. The men upstairs were trained guardsmen, not drunks. And they were armed. And it had only been a small boar.

Virgil was clearly having similar thoughts, his fingers twitching against his side, his eyes constantly flickering up and then back towards Logan and Roman. .

“Go.” Logan said, “We’ll follow you.”

Virgil hesitated, but Roman nodded, straightening up as much as he could “We’ll be righ’ behin’ you. Go help dad.”

Virgil dithered a moment more and then let out all his breath in a rush, reaching for the crossbow strapped to his back.

“Okay just. Go slow. We’ll come get you when the coast is clear.” he waited until they both nodded before turning and all but leaping up the stairs. Roman held his pose until he was out of sight and then collapsed once more against Logan’s side.

The scholar adjusted his grp on the lantern, and hooked his other arm over Roman’s back. With a grunt of effort, the bard managed to sling his left arm over Logan’s shoulder, leaving his uninjured hand free to grip the rickety banister. Logan squeezed, holding him tightly. Roman groaned as he pressed against the bruises and welts that coated his back but Logan held firm.

“One step at a time.” the younger man said softly. “Okay?”

Panting, Roman nodded, giving Logan a sickly lopsided grin.

The staircase spiralled five times before reaching the top floor. They made it round twice before trouble found them.

“You.” The man growled.

The man standing between them and freedom was generically handsome, with large eyes and a strong jaw. He had a passing resemblance to Roman; with the same dark reddish brown hair and tanned skin. He wore a doublet of pink and navy, with the three peaked mountains embroidered in gold thread.

“Luc’-“ Roman gasped out, “don’t-“

“Shut up!” the Marquis de Orenlla snapped. He held a wicked looking dagger in one hand, eyes ablaze. “Is there no end to your duplicity? You foul traitor, I should have you hanged!“

Also like Roman, he seemed to favour being loud over being coherent.

With a grunt, Roman removed his injured arm from Logan’s shoulder and clung to the banister.

“Go!” he shouted to Logan.

Logan spared him an exasperated glance and threw the lantern at the Marquis head.

He went down with a screech, rolling back and forth on the small platform to put the flames dancing on his embroidery. The dagger skirted away and over the edge of the platform.

“You go.” Logan snapped at Roman, pulling out his sword and stepping between the two men.

Technically it was Roman’s sword, the one he had left behind in the inn. But Logan has been taking their training sessions seriously and it felt comfortable in his hands. He pointed the blade a the Marquis throat, effectively pinning him to the ground.

“Wow!” Roman laughed and lent to the side to grin at the flabbergasted noble “I trained him.” he said smugly.

“Hurry up!” Logan hissed and to his great relief, Roman did so, inching his way behind Logan and starting up the next flight of stairs.

“Stop.” The Marquis croaked out.

Roman stopped.

Logan turned towards him, frustrated “Roman, I’ve got this – just keep-“

Later, Logan would blame the stress of the situation for just why he chose to turn away from his prisoner at that precise moment.

Before he had chance to process what was happening, he was falling. Pain rippling through his ankle from a well placed kick from the Marquis. He dropped the heavy sword almost immediately, only for it to be snatched up by the larger man.

Logan felt himself being dragged through the air, and all at once he was pinned against the Marquis chest, sword now held at his own neck.

He saw Roman start back down the stairs towards them and felt the Marquis’ hot breath against his ear as he shouted: “Stop!”

Roman stopped. One foot frozen in the air, he lost his balance almost immediately and toppled to the side, reaching out instinctively to grab the banister with his injured hand, letting out a howl of pain.

The Marquis shuffled backwards, dragging Logan with him, dangerously close to the edge of the platform.

“I’m serious, Romulus.” the Marquis growled. “Not one more step. Or your friend here is going to be even shorter.”

“I'm average height.” Logan muttered sullenly.

The Marquis snorted in his ear. “Where? In the Dwarf kingdom?”

“Lucius!” Roman whimpered, he was hunched over, cradling his bad arm to his chest. “Please – he’s just a kid!”

“I am only three years younger than you!” Logan cried indignantly.

“Oh right.” Roman muttered. “My bad.” And then Roman straightened up. He hadn’t been cradling his arm at all – he’d been working something out of his tunic.

Roman’s dagger, a dull pointless object in desperate need of replacement, came hurtling towards them.

The Marquis let out a shout and instinctively raised the sword to bat the dagger away. Logan took the opportunity to wrench out of his grip, blindly kicking out behind him as he did so.

His foot made satisfying contact with the Marquis’ knee, sending him toppling off the platform, a resounding series of crashes and shouts echoing through the chamber as he bounced down the stairs.

Logan hurried towards Roman as fast as he could, not bothering to turn around and see how far the Marquis had fallen.

“Can you move?” he asked breathlessly.

“I don’t think so.” Roman admitted from his prone position at the base of the steps. Logan bit back a wail of frustration. Roman truly looked done in, his eyes battling to stay open, and there was no way Logan was going to be able to carry him up the-

“Logan? Roman?”

Logan hadn’t been to a city temple since he left his apprenticeship. He had no particular interest in the Gods or their silly squabbles. But the sight of Patton - working his way towards them with his clothing torn and face splattered with blood that wasn’t his own – well. Logan was fairly certain he could pass for an angel.

“You’re safe now.” Logan whispered, although he had no proof of the long term truth of that statement, “go to sleep Roman.”

Roman did as he was told.

Part 8

[rainofaugustsith]

Rain Plays SWTOR: Spirit of Vengeance Survival Walkthrough

As we head toward 7.0, I thought it would be a good idea to check in with a Spirit of Vengeance Survival Guide, 2.0. I have my own feelings about SoV - namely that it's boring, tedious and was tuned way too high for a main story solo flashpoint - but let's move on to the actual guide. 

This is a guide specifically for those of you who just want to get this flashpoint over with so you can move on. 

I personally would advise trying to knock this flashpoint out of your story progression BEFORE 7.0. We have no idea how hard content is going to be once you lose some of your abilities and utilities, so if you have any characters who are planned to continue with the main story, I'd take them through now while you have all of the tools in your toolbox and are familiar with them.

After literally months of complaints the devs finally toned down this flashpoint to a more manageable level, but there are still a lot of mobs that hit hard, and it's still really long. When I went through with canon Viri and Lana at level 50, with Viri fully geared toward 306, I moved right along through the flashpoint without difficulty or deaths. It still took almost exactly an hour. It's even longer when you're contending with Rass Ordo and a lot of cut scenes. 

You will want to gear as well as you can for this - you should not have to since this is a story/solo flashpoint in the main story, but it will help you here. Remember you DO NOT have to group to get good gear. There are numerous solo missions that will give you gear up to 306 - the Mek-Sha Tradehouse missions, Personal Conquest each week, solo flashpoints, including the Onderon weekly and daily missions. Other suggestions: 

1. Buy and use the Supplied Kyrprax Command Stim, available at any medical droid in the flashpoint, including the one when you first land on Ship #1. If you're doing this as part of the main story, you unfortunately still have Rass Ordo as your companion. Rass Ordo, despite being influence level 25, still has the AI of a cardboard box. You'd be better off bringing along a Jawagram as your companion. This stim will up your presence for an hour and make him slightly less incompetent. 

2. If you can, equip yourself with the Life Warden tactical. This tactical drops fairly frequently from personal conquest and other gold gear boxes. It essentially gives you an extra heal in a tight situation and can come in handy. 

3. Medpac on your abilities bar. You hopefully won't need this, but have it handy just in case. You may want to invest in the Supplied Kyprax Med Unit medpac, which will heal you AND your companion. 

Within the flashpoint, some general caveats. You're looking at quantity, not quality here. It's just a lot of NPCs piling in on you. 

1. KILL THE HEALERS FIRST. KILL THE HEALERS FIRST. KILL THE HEALERS FIRST. Just about every mob here has healers. They have different names on each ship: 

- Varad Churl

- Darmanda Medic

- Ashade Lorekeeper 

If you don't kill the medics first the fights will be even more interminable. Get rid of them. 

2. Remember there are kolto stations in a lot of the rooms, not just the boss areas. 

3. Be very careful because there are a lot of mob groups close together. Watch where you are blasting/Force-whatevering because you don't want to pull more than one group at once. 

4. Get your gear repaired as often as you can. If you've fought a tough mob and there's a medical droid nearby, go to it and patch up, even if it means you have to backtrack. 

5. Get really familiar with any AOE (area of effect) skills you have. Know where they are on your abilities bar and how to use them. Given the mobs in this flashpoint, anything you have that can clobber several NPCs at once is welcome.

Now, here we go.

SHIP #1: 

Banquet room: after you fight the first mob and take the elevator, you will find yourself in a large "banquet room" with a lot of mobs. Pick a straight line and go forward, taking care not to veer too far to the sides. If you wander, you'll invariably pull the mobs on the sides of the room. 

The rest of this ship is pretty straightforward; it's just a lot of mob NPCs converging on you at once, over and over again. 

Gorga Brak: Straightforward; stay out of the red circles. Be aware that Rass Ordo will helpfully stand in these circles and let Gorga set him on fire, so don't expect any help during the fight. 

SHIP #2: 

More of the same: lots of mobs, now with Dar'manda nameplates. The Dar'manda medics try to hide more than the healers on the other ships, sometimes even going behind crates or other barriers, so keep your eyes peeled for them. 

First thing of concern here: after a few rooms of mobs, you will arrive at the notorious jumping puzzle. Just stay on the right side of the room and walk along the beam. There are a few jumps up onto pieces of metal but they are not hard, ambitious jumps. Otherwise you just have two places where you have to make sure your character drops down onto the beam and not into the flames. Angle your camera overhead so you can see what you are doing. 

Now it's time to go through the notorious Room After The Kitchen. As the name would suggest, you will know this is coming when you go through the kitchen. All the NPCs in the kitchen are neutral; leave them alone and keep going. The next room is a ballroom and you will find a lot of mobs. 

You can get through this room by fighting only two mobs IF you watch where you are fighting and blasting. I like to try to get the first mob up onto the stairs so there's less of a chance that anyone else in the room will be disturbed. Kill the medics first. Then go straight foward - right through the fountain - and up the stairs to the second mob. I again like to try to fight them in their alcove up the stairs so I don't pull the other NPCs in the room. 

You will now go down some corridors with more mobs - the space is tight, which in a way is good because you can't aggro more than one mob unless you really try. If you are going for bonus missions there are some rooms here to visit off the main path. If you're just trying to get this damned flashpoint over, continue straight down the hall toward that green arrow. 

After taking the elevator you'll get to the tether room, and a yellow message will flash onscreen about it. There will be a very large mob here with a lot of Dar'manda Commander silver NPCs. If Rass Ordo decides to up and die on you, it may be here. Remember there's a kolto station to the immediate right of where you walked into the room. 

Click the blue box to release the tether. Do NOT get too close to the rancor in the cage, Goldie. Back when SoV was first released, she'd aggro on you even from in her cage, and you couldn't kill her or get out of combat. They seem to have fixed that bug, but you know how that goes. 

Bask Sunn: Kill. The. Medics. First. After that, Bask Sunn has a wicked knockback, but he can't knock you *out* of the ship anymore. Remember Bask Sunn leaves a crate with your loot (look on the bridge), it's not on his person. 

SHIP #3: 

Your first challenge here will be another room with a lot of intense mobs. Take care not to pull more than one mob at once. Rass may decide to try to die here. 

You will quickly reach the sniper room. It's a long room with two snipers by the far doorway, shooting at you. Don't try to engage them; just keep running forward. As you cross this room, you will drop through the floor. It's a long fall but you won't take any damage; it's what the game wants you to do. 

Rass will not fall with you, and you will have a room of tentacles to fight on your own. Hit Unity and Heroic Moment BEFORE you fall, when you are still in the sniper room with Rass. You can use your HM abilities against the tentacles. If you really  have trouble with them, try to get out of the garbage pit; you will find a kolto station at the top of the small ramp. 

Now we come to...oh look, another room with a lot of mobs. They're so creative here. Do your best not to pull more than one at once, kill the medics, you know the drill by now. 

Troya Ajak: No special tricks. Stay out of the red circles. Her songbird volley is nasty, but she's perhaps the easiest boss in this flashpoint. 

FOURTH SHIP (The Spirit of Vengeance, I think?) 

Thankfully this is almost a straight shot to the final boss encounter, and there's a medical droid just before it. You may wish to wait for your Heroic Moment to cool down if you have recently used it. 

The silver NPC in the small mob right outside Heta Kol's area sometimes does not die. If you find that they keep recharging to full health, walk past them, put Rass on passive, and wait by the medical droid.  They should eventually give up and go back to their original spots and you can go on. 

Heta Kol: This fight has mercifully been toned down. There are two stages: 

You'll fight Heta Kol straight on. She has a serious knockback, but there aren't any special tricks here. 

1. Stage One: fight Heta. 

2. Heta disappears and a mob appears at the bottom of the stairs. There are two medics, and the Commanders will have knockbacks to keep you from killing the healers. 

3. After all the mob NPCs are defeated, Heta will return. Keep trying to hit her. 

4. Heta disappears. This time there's a mob with two gold Varad NPCs and two weaker ones at the stairs, plus two silver Dar'manda snipers on the platform. If you have any AOE skills, make sure they are available here so you can take out as many as possible at once. You may wish to consider saving Heroic Moment for this point so you can use Orbital Strike if you have it. Rass Ordo loves to die at this point so be mindful of where your kolto stations are. You might need the kolto for him, even if you don't need it for you. 

5. Heta Kol returns with a much more serious knockback and red circles of doom that increase in size and are hard to avoid. You're going to get thrown around a lot. ETA with thanks to @vespertine-legacy: The circles can be interrupted, which may make this fight easier.

And...you're done. Thank the stars. 

[phantomwarrior12]

Sweet Beginnings (Chapter 1)

It's subtle at first - or at least, he thinks he's subtle in the way his eyes follow her movements in the field. He tells himself there is no purpose beyond mere observation - that it's intended for the sole purpose of mimicking the elaborate finishers, the pinpoint accurate knife throwing, the efficient executions. And yet, he's all too aware of this nagging sentimental edge in the back of his mind. He knows he cannot let it affect his objectives. After all, he is far from her skill level and in attempting these combat tactics, he's ended up on his ass more times than he cares to count and the observation is necessary.

In all his failings, he's come to find that she's surprisingly kind for a Guardian.

While his prowess leaves much to be desired, she assures him that he is still learning and that he will be fine. He is, after all, a New Light - it's what she calls him - or rather, her Ghost calls him - and he's decided he quite likes the term. Before he met her, most Guardians he met were...unkind, to say the least and at most, downright violent when they saw his face. So when they first met, he was apprehensive. He saw that same ironclad rage barely contained beyond the veil of her helmet. But then something changed - she relaxed. Almost like she realized that he was no longer whatever monster he'd once been. Perhaps that's why he likes the term - he's a New Light. A new person. A better  person, or at least, that's what Glint likes to tell him. But he doesn't pry at the Young Wolf. She seems...cautious. Careful and deliberate in what information she's willing to grant him, though he has yet to hear her speak let alone see her face.

Had she known him? Before all of this?

It plagues him and yet, he knows he dare not ask. He doesn't want to know who he was - especially not if it means losing her.

She is so many things and all of which, he's come to admire and adore.

Her patience, specifically, astounds him. In the last few months, he's managed to talk her into training him. Weekly sparring matches beyond the watchful eye of the Spider where the only witnesses are their ghosts.  It's private - intimate - almost in a way he can't quite describe.

Glint likes to heckle him after each match and the Crow always smiles to himself. His little Light grounds him like no other and it's his ghost's voice that brings him back to the present now,  his eyes coming back into focus on the beams above him.

"You do care about her, don't you?" The ghost asks softly as he settles on Crow's chest. The Hunter lays on his cot, one arm propped behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling.

"I think so." He murmurs, looking down at the little Light-bearer, "She's...unlike anyone I've ever met before."

"You should tell her how you feel."

"I can't."

Glint shifts ever so slightly, tilting to the side, "Why not?"

"Because--" he starts to raise his voice above a whisper but one glance towards the doorway softens his tone, "Because she wouldn't be interested in an enforcer."

"But you're a Guardian, too, Crow."

"It doesn't matter." He starts to sit up and Glint alights from his chest, hovering near his face as the Hunter swings his feet onto the floor. "In all the ways that matter, we are incompatible."

"You don't know that for certain," Glint descends and holds a few feet away from his Guardian's face, "You like her, right?"

Crow hesitates before he nods cautiously.

"Then what's the worst that can happen? If she doesn't feel the same way, it's water under the Traveler."

A small smile tugs at the corner of Crow's mouth and he gently pats the top of Glint's shell, "I appreciate the sentiment, my friend, but--" the faint footsteps that echo down the corridor catch his attention and he falls silent, straining to listen.

"Ah! Guardian! My friend! Good to see you." Spider's voice echoes and Crow relaxes, his smile returning as he settles back against the wall behind his cot.

There is no sound from her, the Young Wolf never speaks after all and in all their time together, he wonders if she ever will.

"Come to request a favor? Or to drag my enforcer off for another escapade?"

Crow tries to force himself to stay on the cot. He really tries. But it's her. She's here and he longs to see her. It's enough that he pushes up from the dated cot and paces towards his workbench, trying to decide how best to look busy.

"Nothing to say, huh? Very well. He's holed up down the hall. Be careful, Guardian, he's moody today."

"Moody." Glint scoffs indignantly.

"Glint, it's alright," Crow assures him softly and the Ghost relaxes when he sees the smile on his Guardian's face. Both gazes dart to the door when the quiet clump of the boots stop.

Fully armored and silent as ever, the Young Wolf gives a small, friendly wave.

Crow tries to contain the warmth that floods his veins, the silent relief that washes over his features, the tension that drains from his frame.

He had needed to see her today. How did she always know when he needed her the most?

It's only after a subtle bump from Glint against his shoulder that he snaps to, flustered and scrambling all at once to greet her, "Hello, Guardian...I-I didn't know you were stopping by today."

"Smoothe," Glint shakes from side to side and Crow gives him a pointed look before shifting his gaze back to the Young Wolf.

One of her shoulders raise in a half-hearted shrug as her head tilts. It's so damned adorable and he fights back the stupid grin. But then he realizes for the first time - one of her hands hasn't emerged from behind her back. For a moment, there's a flash of apprehension and fear in his eyes, looking from the arm to the Wolf's emotionless helmet.

Had he missed something? Done something? Was she just like all the others--

He hadn't seen her move. His mind had been in such a whirlwind, he'd missed her stepping up to him and laying a gloved hand lightly on his shoulder, head tilted as if in concern. It grounds him. Gives him the assurance that he is safe and she isn't going to hurt him.

Her grip tightens, dragging his gaze to where her eyes would be beyond the visor. She'd stepped closer and his breath hitches for a fraction of a second.

"I'm alright," he manage at last, smiling down at her softly. "It's...just been a long day."

She nods slowly, her hand falling away from his shoulder before gesturing to his cot.

He lingers for a moment, aching for her touch before he takes a seat, staring up at her curiously.

She gestures for him to close his eyes and he quirks an eyebrow before doing as he's ordered. He hears the rustle of her cloak and he stiffens when her hand lightly grips his wrist. She seems to notice as her thumb brushes over the small patch of exposed skin between his sleeve and his glove and he relaxes. The Young Wolf gingerly rotates his hand so its palm up before there's something warm and box-shaped placed in the palm of his hand.

She pulls back and Ghost speaks for her. "You can open them! Happy Dawning!"

Crow slowly opens his eyes, looking down at the neatly wrapped package in his hand. The sweet scent of butterscotch fills the room as he undoes the ribbon and he smiles at the stack of cookies.

"Thank you--"

"Don't thank us yet! How do they taste?"  Ghost floats closer excitedly.

Crow picks one up cautiously. It feels as though it's going to simultaneously crumble in his hand and perhaps deal enough damage to an Ogre to kill it in one hit. How she'd managed to get that consistency, he dares not ask. He carefully takes a bite, his initial conclusion of the cookie crumbling being the most correct and it falls apart in his mouth.

It-it's not good, but her hands are clasped under her chin and he can read the anxious excitement in every inch of her frame. He swallows slowly, giving his best convincing smile to veil his disgust.

"So? How is it?" Ghost presses.

"Delicious," Crow assures her and she does a little dance.

For being an Old Light, she has the soul of a child - and the mannerisms to match.

Crow sets the cookie back in the box and replaces the lid, "I'll save them for later."

"So, what brought you two all the way to the Tangled Shore? Just a cookie delivery?" Glint asks, hovering near Crow's shoulder.

"Well, we figured since we hadn't been able to visit for awhile, this would be the ideal time to drop by and check in," Ghost supplies.

The Young Wolf nods in confirmation.

"Well, with all the Wrathborne, Spider has been keeping us busy overseeing the hunts." Crow says softly, gesturing to the spot on the cot beside him.

She takes a seat without any hesitation, fluffing her cloak out to avoid sitting on it.

"Xivu Arath has been busy," Ghost remarks.

"It's only a matter of time before we catch up to her," Glint returns.

"And we'll be ready when you do," Ghost assures them as the Young Wolf rests her hand on Crow's shoulder as if in sync with the remark. It never ceases to amaze him how coordinated the Young Wolf is with her Ghost, how easily his words seem to replace her own.

Will he ever reach that point with Glint?

A subtle shift of one of her fingers draws him back to the moment and its then that the full weight of her touch registers.

Every nerve ignites, a warmth flourishing down his arm and into his chest. For a moment, his mind drifts back to his conversation with Glint. It's as if his little Light could read his mind when he nudges him again even as the ghost speaks.

"I'm sure you two have talked enough about bounties and hunts to last you awhile. We should talk about something else."

He's giving him an in. But Crow doesn't want to chance things. Her hand is still on his shoulder and he can't deny the flutter in his chest.

"Like what?" Ghost asks and Crow notes the subtle tilt of the Young Wolf's head.

"...like the Tower!" Crow interjects pointedly, ignoring the the bump against his shoulder from his companion.

"What about it?"

"What's it like?"

The Young Wolf looks toward her Ghost as if mulling over what he can tell him before giving a nod.

"Well, it's on Earth. We call it the Last City. It's really quite the sight, you have a clear view of the Traveler! Whenever we're there for a night, she'll take us up to the highest wall and watch the sunset." Ghost settles into his Guardian's lap, her hand resting lightly on his shell.

"It sounds nice."

"It is. The sun sets around the Traveler and - we should take you to see it sometime." There's an edge of excitement in Ghost's tone and Crow looks to the Young Wolf to see if the sentiment is mutual.

She nods her agreement, two swift downward tilts of her head in rapid succession and it's all the answer he needs.

"Maybe one day we can?" He offers hopefully and she touches his forearm with a subtle spark of lightning. Nothing painful, but there's an odd sensation dancing over his nerves. He's noticed she only ever slips up when she's extremely excited and it sparks a smile at the corner of his mouth. Gazing over at her, Crow notes how there's a warmth to her touch detectable even through the leather of her gloves and there's an almost golden glow around the Solar Hunter's frame.

"Guardian--" Ghost shifts to look up at her and the glow ebbs with a sheepish rub at her neck.

Crow can't help but chuckle softly, "It's alright, Spider's lair could use some more light."

If ever a Guardian could visibly blush behind a helmet, Crow thinks now might be the time.  She shifts, glancing around almost awkwardly with another whisper of gold around her helmet and hood. It's adorable and mesmerizing all at once. A light like a star and yet, dimmed as if intended to protect those around it.

"Perhaps, we should get going? Before she lights the lair on fire." Ghost says, only halfway joking and the Young Wolf looks almost indignant as the light sputters out as quickly as it appeared.

"It'd be an improvement. Trust me." Glint supplies as the Young Wolf stands.

Crow almost reaches for her, almost pulls her to him but he forces himself upright and offers a soft smile, "Thank you for the cookies."

She tilts her head and nods. He imagines she's smiling beneath her helmet and some part of him longs to see that - one day, perhaps.

"Safe travels, Guardian!" Glint surges forward a short distance before retreating back to Crow's side.

"See you two soon!" Ghost returns as the Young Wolf leaves and Glint bumps against Crow's shoulder.

"I think that went very well."

"I suppose it did." Crow returns softly, still staring after her with a sort dazed smile.

"...are you okay?" Glint darts up to hover in front of Crow's face and the Hunter jerks back ever so slightly.

"O-of course. I'm fine."

"Uh huh," Glint returns smugly and Crow huffs as he looks towards the cookies she'd left, "You're not actually going to eat those, are you?"

"No. I appreciate the thought, but, I don't think I can eat those. I'm sure the Eliksni here will appreciate them more. They love that sort of...crumbled, burnt taste."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah," Crow rubs the back of his neck.

"Guess you'll be in charge of cooking then," the Little Light bumps up against his shoulder again.

"Glint," Crow chides with a soft chuckle as he returns to his cot.

"Just an observation."

"An unnecessary one."

"Says you."

Crow lays down on the cot with a content, yet lightly exaggerated sigh, "Goodnight, Glint."

Glint settles onto his chest, "Goodnight, Crow."

Crow allows his eyes to sag shut, listening to the soft hum of his Ghost as he drifts off to a peaceful rest.

-------------------------

A/N: Hey folks!

This fic will be slow to update, I’m more or less trying to follow Bungie’s canon timeline for Crow, so as his story unfolds to its full extent, this fic will follow. :) I’m already working on Chapter 2 which starts off with Crow’s newfound freedom!

Stay tuned!

~ Phantom

CHAPTER 2 (DIFFICULT ADJUSTMENTS)

Taglists are open! Send an ask/leave a comment to be added!

Forevers: @halo-2 @reaped-winnower @genken64 @sugarcoated44 @cayde-6

[mirasolis]

My Star, Your Light

Punz x Reader

Tangled AU

Part One

★──────────★─────────★

This is just you and Punz thrown into the world of Tangled, as requested by @thequeenofuwu . We are both Punz simps, I know it.

This is going to be in several parts, and I will link each part when I finish them under here.

Part 1 Part 2

Enjoy!

★──────────★─────────★

This, is the story of how I was killed. But don’t worry, it’s a happy story, and truth be told, it’s not even mine. This is the story of a girl I met, named (Y/N). It all starts with the stars.

Years ago, a piece of the stars fell from the skies, and from it sprouted a magical, silver flower. Now this flower had the ability to give you your greatest heart’s desire, if you knew what to to say; or rather, if you knew what to sing. People had searched for the flower for centuries with goals of becoming rich or powerful.

But then one day, a man named Dream had stumbled upon it and decided to keep it hidden from the world so he could one day use it. He made it keep him alive, while he grew with power and became immortal, but he had no purpose for it yet.

Even more centuries passed, and a kingdom grew. It was bright and prosperous and happy. All except for the beloved King Phil and Queen Samantha, who had longed for a child of their own to have. Now, around this time, people get pretty desperate, and royal scholars had found research about the star flower, and decided that the whole kingdom was to search for this magic flower. The kingdom loved their rulers and respected them that they searched for days on end.

Now, back with the immortal Dream. He still had no proper way to use the power of the star flower, and continuously hid it. But by chance, he left it exposed to the naked eye when he heard that people were searching for it. When the people found the flower, they rejoiced, for their king and queen would smile once more. The monarchs conceived their first child, a beautiful baby girl. I’ll give you one guess. Yep, that’s (Y/N). To celebrate her birth, the kingdom released silver lanterns in the sky to represent the stars from which the flower had come from, all while shooting stars passed by. Later that year, the king and queen gave (Y/N) her younger brothers, Wilbur and Techno.

For a while, the kingdom was happy. But all that ended when (Y/N) was almost two years old.

Dream had plotted with his crew, men who went by the names George, Sapnap, Badboyhalo, and Callahan. They stormed the castle, sneaked in, and stole away the princess. The kingdom’s soldiers and people searched across the lands, but she was nowhere to be found. Deep within the woods, a magical barrier disguised the home of Dream and his crew from sight. Within that, there was a tower from which you could only enter through the window and a rope. There, the princess was hidden away, with her rapidly growing (H/C) hair coloured with silver streaks. There, (Y/N) was raised, never seeing the outside world again.

Dream, posing as her brother, was one day tending to (Y/N)’s hair when she asked a question. He hummed in response. “Why can’t I go outside?”

“Well (Y/N), the world outside is a dangerous place. I don’t want you to get hurt or used for horrible means. Keeping you here means you can be safe,” Dream responded.

(Y/N) nodded silently, humming a gentle tune.

But the king and queen never stopped hoping that their child would come back. And the barriers cutting (Y/N) from the rest of the world could not hide it all. Every year, they continued the tradition of releasing the star lanterns every year. They hoped that this could serve as a signal so that one day, their princess would return.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

17 years later…

A young girl snuck around, looking for her companion, a small multicoloured sheep named Puffy. Dream had given her the sheep not too long ago and they already bonded nicely. They were currently playing some hide and seek.

“Oh Puffy!! Where are you?” (Y/N) called out in a singsong tune. The sheep was currently hiding along the flower bed that was on the window sill of the tower entrance. (Y/N) looked around with wide eyes. “Well, I guess she’s back inside…

“…NOT!”

(Y/N) manoeuvered her hair to wrap around Puffy and pulled her from her hiding place, dangling her in the air. She laughed as she grabbed Puffy and held her in her arms, snuggling into her wool.

“Oh Puffy, I know you want to go outside, but I can’t bring you there. We just have to wait ‘til Dream gets back so you can get some grass. Besides, we’ve got plenty to do in here!”

(Y/N) danced around, her growing as long as the tower was tall, and tall it was. She bounced from activity to activity, bringing Puffy along for the ride. She finally slowed down when she gathered her paints and illustrated a beautiful depiction of her gazing at the stars.

“I wonder what they’re like…maybe Dream will let me see them this year…”

Meanwhile…

Three men were jumping along the tops of the castle, looking for the right building to infiltrate. One wore a mask coloured with red, yellow, and black, and was called Ponk. The next one wore a significant amount of purple clothing, such as his purple coat and shoes, and was appropriately called Purpled. The last man wore a white plain shirt with leather cuffs covering his forearms and keeping the sleeves in place, and over that he wore a very light grey vest on top. He had blonde hair and he went by the name Punz.

The three of them were a team of mercenaries and they were on their latest job, stealing the tiara of the first princess. While Purpled and Ponk were making sure they had found the Crown Room, Punz was holding onto a castle tower and looking at the view.

“Guys you gotta look at this view!” He exclaimed.

“Dude, we don’t care about the view, just get over here and grab the crown!” Purpled urged.

Ponk scoffed. “Dude, you can find another view like this when we get the money!”

Punz brushed them off and dropped down with the two men lowering him down an escape rope. He stepped down quietly, gazing at the beautiful crown adorned with jewels in front of him. Just as he had his hands on it, a guard sneezed. As common courtesy goes, Punz just naturally said bless you, grabbed the rope, then signalled Ponk and Purpled to pull him up. About halfway to the ceiling the guards turned around and looked up to face Punz who was waving the crown around triumphantly, smirking.

In a hurry, the guards organized themselves and searched for the mercenaries while they were long gone, running into the forest, away from the main city.

With (Y/N)…

(Y/N) could hear the calls of her brother asking her to let down her hair, as the tale goes. She bounded for the window, excitedly letting her hair down while looking at Puffy.

“Puffy! This is it! I’m going to ask Dream today!” She declared as she pulled Dream up to the tower room. As he entered, he pulled off his cloak and took off his mask, revealing some wounds on him. Dream set down his items, leaving a nice patch of grass for Puffy by the window.

Dream sat down in a chair, while (Y/N) rushed around to make everything comfortable for him. She hummed a song, healed Dream quick and got straight to the point.

“So, Dream, I was wondering…I turn 18 tomorrow, I become an adult and I was wondering…if I could see the special stars!!”

Dream looked in her direction in alarm. He was thinking to himself. His plan would soon come into fruition, but if she left now, it would all go south.

“Oh, (Y/N), I think you mean the regular stars,” Dream tried to sway her mind.

“But Dream, these stars are special! The patterns of these stars are not constant. These move in every which way every year, and they only appear on my birthday Dream! I want, no, need to see them up close, and understand what they are!”

“Oh please! (Y/N), you’re too fragile for the outside world! I keep you here because its to keep you safe! It’s a scary world out there! I do this to protect you, you’d be taken advantage of! And imagine what would happen if they found out what your hair could do! (Y/N), please promise me to never ask about leaving this tower again? You must understand!”

(Y/N) contemplated her choices in her mind before she agreed. “Okay…”

Dream picked up his cloak and headed for the window to leave. “I’ll be in the village talking with George and Sapnap. I’ll see you in a bit.”

As (Y/N) let her brother down to do business, she looked at the world below longingly.

In another part of the forest…

Punz, Purpled, and Ponk were running through the forest still, hopping over logs and lakes. Punz stopped to catch a breath when he looked at a wanted poster of him and began to panic.

“No no no no no. I can’t believe this! They drew my face wrong!” He showed the poster to his partners, and they saw that Punz’ nose was severely misshapen and his hair was too long.

“Dude, who cares?!” Purpled questioned.

Ponk urged the two of them along until they came upon a short cliff they had to climb. Punz turned around to face them and told them, “Okay, you guys launch me up there, and I can pull you up.”

Purpled and Ponk shook their heads. “Give the crown first,” Ponk demanded while gesturing to the bag that held the crown.

“Ouch, that kinda hurts. You guys don’t trust me? After all our escapades as fellow mercs?” Punz asked.

“The satchel. Now,” Purpled ordered.

Punz sighed, resigning the bag to them. He climbed the rock with their help, reaching the top.

“Now pull us up Punz,” Purpled requested.

Punz laughed. “Sorry, can’t carry any more!” He flashed the satchel before slinging it around his body and running off while hearing his partners’ screams.

Punz kept running, and the castle guard was on his tail. Even worse, they were accompanied by one of the Crown Princes, Technoblade. Punz grimaced and recalled Techno’s history as a renowned fighter, leading the kingdom’s army and winning every battle. He urged his legs to work harder, to run faster.

Punz hopped through a fallen tree’s branches, cutting off most of the palace guard. Technoblade made it through and continued giving chase to the white-clad mercenary.

“We have him now, Carl!” Techno declared to his faithful horse.

Punz kept running, grabbing a forlorn vine and swinging around a tree to knock Technoblade off his horse and taking his place. Punz grabbed the reigns and tries to ride Carl away from the guard, but the horse tries bucking him off. They go back and forth, between trying to ride forward and grabbing the crown, not noticing that they were heading for a cliff.

The satchel flew away from the fighting pair’s grasp and landed on a single branch on a tree dangling sideways on the cliff’s edge. They wasted no time in reaching for the bag, not knowing the tree was breaking until it was too late. They fell off the edge, the crown ending up in Punz’ hands.

After that nasty fall, Punz woke up and sighs in relief when he sees the crown is still in his possession. He hears the distant neighs of a familiar horse, and looks for a place to hide. He tries feeling for a hole big enough for him to fit it, when his hand passes through a tree, a green glow around the part where his hand entered. Taking a risk, he threw himself into the trees and ended up in a dark cave just as Carl passed by.

Punz let out a tense breath and walked along the cave’s path until he came into a clearing. A tall, majestic tower loomed over him, casting a shadow over the land. Behind it, he could see a few houses. But the tower piqued his interest more. Maybe there were more valuables inside. He smiled and got to work climbing the tower using the sturdy vines that lined its walls.

After a tedious while of climbing (thankfully, no one had spotted him), he burst through the window doors and entered the tower’s main room. He sighed, opened the satchel, and took a breath, looking at the crown. “Alone at last.”

Then he was knocked out. Simple as that.

(Y/N) held the cast iron frying pan in her hands, retracting it from its position from when it knocked out the intruding Punz. She shrieks and dashes away from Punz’ unconscious body, slowly creeping up on it to make sure it was safe. She checked to make sure he wasn’t dangerous, flipping away a piece of hair that covered his eyes. (Y/N) leaned in closer when he suddenly opened an eye. In a panic, (Y/N) smacked him in the head again, not considering the possibility of a concussion.

(Y/N) looked for a place to hide the man while saying to herself and to Puffy, “I knocked him out! All on my own! Holy! If this isn’t enough to convince Dream that I can be let out of here for one day, then I don’t know what will!!”

She ended up stuffing him in an empty closet, being successful after a few tries. She looked at the satchel the mysterious man dropped, paying attention to the small shine emanating from it. Curious, she opened the pouch, revealing a piece of metal embedded with several precious jewels. She looked at Puffy, trying it on like a bracelet. Puffy’s wool shook with her head in denial. She peeked through one of the jewels, but that didn’t seem to be the purpose. Finally, (Y/N) tried putting the piece on her head. It looked like it fit perfectly. Then Puffy shook her head again. Then a noise sounded from below.

The girl heard her brother’s calls and she grew excited. As per usual, she let down her hair, and pulled Dream up. (Y/N) was very eager to tell Dream about her surprise.

“Dream! Oh you won’t believe what I have to show you!! It’s a big surprise!” (Y/N) bragged.

“Oh? Well I bet mine is bigger than yours!” Dream chimed.

“Doubt it!”

“Well, I am going to be making you your favourite dinner tonight!”

“Well, Dream? There’s something I want to tell you…” (Y/N) began to segway the conversation into her being able to leave the tower.

“(Y/N), I hate leaving you after fights. Especially when I’ve been in the right the entire time,” Dream vocalized.

“Okay, so I was thinking about what you said earlier today…” (Y/N) began to speak, but was interrupted by Dream.

“I hope you’re still not set on seeing those stars.”

“I’ve told you! They aren’t stars!” (Y/N) insisted. “I’m leading up to that!”

“I thought we were gonna drop the issue (Y/N),” Dream said sternly.

“No, Dream! I’m just saying you think that I’m not strong enough to take care of myself.”

“I know you’re not strong enough, take it from me.”

“Would you just-“

“We are done.”

“Why can’t you just-“

“I SAID WE ARE DONE.”

(Y/N) shrunk away from her brother, never hearing Dream’s voice so loudly before.

“I…all I wanted to tell you is that, I know what I want for my birthday now…”

Dream, fed up with me, asked coldly, “What.”

“Umm, the paints that dissolve with water? And perhaps a canvas? No bigger than my torso.”

“You know that it’ll be a long trip? And I’ll need to take someone with me?”

“I just thought it would be better than, than the ‘stars’.”

“Will you be fine (Y/N)?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine right here.”

“…Okay. I’ll be back soon.” As Dream prepared to leave for the trip, he looked back at (Y/N) one more time. “Love you, sis.”

“Of course, brother.”

As Dream descended from the tower, he thought to himself. He needed to carry out his plan fast. He rushed to his house to discuss with George, his right hand man. They set off, not for paints, but for items needed to extract (Y/N)’s power from her.

(Y/N) wallowed in her pity in the tower, then remembered the whole ass human in her closet. Puffy hid behind (Y/N)’s legs while she opened the closet doors.

The man just slumped out. Like a limp noodle. It made her jump, but ultimately decided to tie him up in a chair with her hair while hiding in the shadows.

[majorsoapfan]

Umbrella Academy Season 3 Wish list

This is a long one so buckle up:

Let Klaus and Allison take centre-stage this season in leading the plot. Both are incredible characters and deserve the chance to shine. And I can think of several reasons why they deserve the chance to take centre-stage: out of the whole Academy their powers are some of the most fascinating and in Klaus’ case he has so many that haven’t been revealed yet. They’ve both suffered and lost a lot as well, particularly in season 2 and their hardships tend to get ignored by others. Their relationship together is already really interesting and supportive and they would be an awesome team up. There’s more but I’ll be here forever if I tried to list them.

No Apocalypse. The world ending in eight days was a great plot driver in season 1 and again in season 2 with the reveal that the end of the world actually followed the Umbrella’s back in time. But if the same thing gets repeated over and over then I’m worried that the show will lose it’s edge as a result. In order for the characters to develop new crisis's need to take its place.

Let Five have a rest. Even if it’s just for an episode or two so he can get a solid eight hours sleep if nothing else. For the last two seasons Five has been running around non-stop trying to stop the end of the world and save his family. Without that Five can grow as a person and get a literal break that he really hasn’t gotten in 45 years.

Oh course that doesn’t mean I want Five out of the drama entirely and I do expect to see Reginald and Five scenes in season 3. Five is the only one of his original children that the bastard seemed to tolerate and he did seem to have some form of twisted respect for Five as well. And I wouldn’t put it past the monocle monster to have some twisted plans in store for the eldest member of the Umbrella Academy. He’s had fifty years to plan for the Umbrella’s return after all.

The Sparrows. I just saw the line up of the Sparrows for season three and I am honestly so interested. I can’t wait to see what their powers are like and I already have some ideas. They have so much potential and hopefully they’ll be done well. And so far they seem to be written as the Umbrella’s foils. Marcus is a natural leader who loves his family, while Luther forces himself into the role and alienated his family as a result. Both Ben and Diego long to be the leader but while Diego is more emotional, Ben’s more strategic. Five is driven by his love and desire to protect his family, while Sloane feels held back by hers. Vanya was treated as an outcast and betrayed her siblings trust while Christopher, a literal Cube, is said to be loyal and is treated as a loved family member 

That being said though, I don’t want the Sparrows to be the main focus this season or have the attention split between them and the Umbrella’s. Because while I do want to see the Sparrows and their family dynamic and how they interact with the Umbrella’s, I would prefer to see how the Umbrella Hargreeves’ cope with their existent and how this impacts them and how they move forward with this. Or a team up between Sparrows and Umbrella’s would be fine. Or multiple team ups, I’m not picky.

There is a really good fan theory out there about Klaus and Five being twins and while I know that in the comics it’s Luther and Five, the fan theory in season 3 would be so much better in my opinion. And in all honesty it makes so much more sense. Physically they are strikingly similar, especially as children. Their powers both concentrate in their hands and emit a blue glow when they use them. Their powers themselves are literally time and death, which are linked and they have additive personalities, which can be inherited between family members. And I can’t help but feel that this moment:

lends a new level to their relationship then what we see with them as adults. Look at how alike they are! And that fond smile that Five is giving Klaus? Making them twins opens up a wide range of possibilities for Klaus and Five both character and plot wise.

Give Luther a proper love interest. And I can’t believe that this even has to be said but his sister does not count! Literally all of siblings have have romantic interests, all of them so important in the Umbrella’s life in some way or another. It would be nice too to see Luther form a healthy romantic connection for the first time in his life.

While I’m on the subject of Luther and healthy relationships, it also brings me back to the Sparrows and how their number one Marcus seems to be Luther’s foil. And it would be interesting for the show to explore just how seeing the Sparrows and someone so similar to Luther might just affect him. He did spend thirty years of his life after all being Reginald’s little solider and believing that his position as Number One made him the family leader only to find out it was all for nothing. Only Marcus seems to be respected in his position as leader and loves his family dearly, while Luther was mocked and seems to have driven all of his siblings bar Allison away from him because of it. This has incredible potential for Luther’s character arc this season especially if it makes him acknowledge his behaviour to his siblings as they were growing up; particularly to Klaus and Vanya who probably got the worst of it. Allison after all was his closest companion, Diego was his rival (more or less), Ben seemingly got on with everyone and Five would have bitten Luther’s head off if he tried anything. But Reginald’s disappointments Klaus and Vanya? Luther, wanting to impress their dad and follow his orders probably didn’t treat them the best. And I want Luther to admit that and apologise and make the next step in becoming a better person and brother. He’s made incredible progress in season 2, but I don’t want his past treatment of his siblings to be swept under the rug. It needs to be acknowledged and Luther needs to admit it was wrong so he can grow. 

Can we get Diego’s season one hair back too? I wondered just how it got that long considering that he was only in the sixties for around three months. Klaus makes sense as he was in the sixties for years. Plenty of time for him to grow it out, not really for Diego. But I really prefer his season one hair so can it make a comeback please?

What I want to see for Vanya this season is for her to realize that she doesn’t need powers to be special. I kinda noticed that she seems to have defined her worth on her powers and that’s not healthy. So a potential scenario: Reginald seems to have made the power-suppressing drug himself, so he may still have it in season 3. Imagine Vanya getting a dose of it that knocks her powers out for a good chunk of time and in the meantime some of her siblings are in danger (I’m picturing Luther and Diego here the himbos) and she ends up saving them. Not with her powers but because of her intelligence and other skills that she has and she realizes that she doesn’t need her powers to be special or to save the day. A logical step in character growth.

Getting some closure on season 2 character like Sissy, Ray, Grace, the Cult (which I really didn’t like) and the Swede and what happened to them once the Umbrella’s left the sixties. And maybe finding out what happened to season one’s characters since the Umbrella’s didn’t exist in this timeline: Agnes, Patch, Leonard, Pogo, Claire.

For Klaus and Umbrella Ben to talk about their issues and make up. I know that our Ben is now up there with the little girl in the sky but that has not stopped Klaus from visiting heaven before. And I think that if Klaus and Ben do not get at least one final conversation to talk through their issues next season then I will sue. They both did crappy things to each other in season two but they both love each other dearly and they deserve the chance to get the closure they both need. I think that Klaus will definitely need it in order to move on completely.

I know I said no Apocalypse but I’m still going to be expecting some major crisis to happen during the last few episodes. An alien invasion or Sparrows trying to kill the Umbrella's maybe? But no matter what the problem is, I really want Klaus to get his moment to shine by being the one to save the day. Reginald said himself that Klaus has untapped potential and we know thanks to the comics what other powers he has. And thanks to Ben’s antics at the family dinner the old bastard has probably written him off as useless and not a threat when making plans to deal with the Umbrella’s. Which means nobody is going to be looking at Klaus or considering him a potential threat to their plans, leaving Klaus relatively safe to start exploring and enhancing his powers. He was supposed to be the one to have done it in season one with the moon and his abilities were brushed to the side completely in season two or used for Ben’s benefit so I think he’s long overdue his moment to shine. And maybe then will the rest of his siblings stop seeing Klaus as a joke.

Lila. I don’t think we’ve seen the last of her, her story felt unfinished and she does have a briefcase. She could pop at any moment in the story. She has so much potential and I did love her actress. Imagine her and Five forcing to team up or something? Or maybe her and Allison?

Another character I’d like to see return is Hazel. He’s someone who really grew on me. And there is a chance that he could return and maybe team up with the Umbrella’s this season. Potential scenarios: Five on the hunt for allies to help him restore the timeline hunts down Hazel who in this timeline is working with the Commission and because the Umbrellas don’t exist hasn’t met Agnes yet. Maybe something happened to her because of the Sparrows?

Finally Dave. I’m a huge Dave fan but I really don’t want him to show up in season three. Or if he does then for the smallest amount of time possible just to give Klaus some ‘closure’. Time travel is in the Umbrella Academy universe after all and it’s possible that by Klaus warning Dave about his faith and causing him to enlist earlier and in a different branch as a result he’s saved Dave and opened up the possibility of seeing Commission!Dave later. Which is the perfect storyline for season 4. Season three is only 10 episodes long and there’ll be a lot going on already so shoving Dave into what will already be a pretty packed season won’t give Dave the attention he deserves and will take away from the other focus. Not only that but Klaus’ motivation for the last two seasons is doing something for either Dave or Ben. I want to see Klaus train his powers either for himself or to help someone else. Also, Dave deserves the chance to grow as a character as well and making him a part of season 3 would take away from the main focus of the Umbrella’s and Sparrows. Making him a main focus in season four instead if we get one will give a great opportunity story-wise to develop both him and Klaus as individuals and as a couple.

[narakurosaki]

title: need you now

summary: it’s ed’s first night in creta, and he’s quickly discovering just how alone he is in a new country.

rating: t

word count: 3118

a/n: @wlwinry is to thank for the title suggestion, as well as how the fic ended. tysm! also, this is more of a character study on ed with some edwin sprinkled in towards the end!

read on ao3!

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The ceiling fan blades, white and free of dust, spin at a fast rate, creating a strong breeze against his face. His golden bangs whip against his skin. His eyes stare at the light fixtures hanging from the fan’s center. He blinks frequently, the artificial breeze drying out his eyes. The mechanism within the fan ticks, an irritating sound that fortunately fills the silence of the hotel room.

He lies atop his mattress, arms folded behind his head, right leg thrown across his left. The only thing he’s taken off of his body are his shoes; they’ve been abandoned beside the door, leaving his flesh foot covered only by his sock. After seven days aboard a train, Edward is overjoyed to be in an actual bed rather than a bunk in a cramped sleeper car. The city of Cirstan sat just beyond Creta’s borders; a beautiful city with tall buildings and various factories. The thick black smoke polluted the air, but in the heart of Cirstan, the sky was as blue as could be. Cars whizzed past as he walked down the sidewalk, forgoing the map provided to him and asking passersby for directions to the best hotel in the city. Those kind enough to help a foreigner pointed him toward the Obsidian, an upscale hotel with newly renovated rooms and an excellent complimentary breakfast. He’d booked a room as soon as he’d approached the front desk, sliding a fifty-dollar Cretan bill into the clerk’s hands. It was enough payment for a week’s stay. A bellboy had been kind enough to offer to carry his luggage and accompany him to his room, though Ed had politely declined. He would find his room no problem, given the experience he’d had traveling from a young age. And find it he did—a room on the fifth floor numbered 515.

Edward had thrown his luggage and coat on the nearby chair, removed his oxfords, and collapsed atop his bed where he remained throughout the evening.

His muscles have stiffened after limited movement aboard several trains. The walk from the station to the hotel had slightly helped, but the aching joints proved difficult to ignore. Thankfully, he need only worry about only three joints giving him pain; such was the advantage of automail. Though his nerves were connected in order to move the prosthetic, pain was never felt, even upon damage. His port was the only source of pain, and that occurred only on rainy days.

He shuts his eyes in hope of sleep finding him quickly, but the ticking of the ceiling fan drives him mad. It seems to echo in the spacious room, growing louder with every second tick heard. He grits his teeth, opens his eyes, and resumes his staring at the ceiling fan.

Edward wasn’t a stranger to noise as he tried to sleep. He had spent four years in hotel rooms with a walking, talking suit of armor. It wasn’t uncommon for Alphonse to hit his head against something as he stood, or for his joints to screech with even the simplest of movements. There had been times when Ed had awoken to the soft meowing of a kitten his little brother had stashed inside of his chest. And though Al had kept to one spot throughout the night, Edward often heard the turning of pages, the creaking of his shoulder, the exchange of a finished book for a new one from the shelf… Those sounds brought him comfort, serving as a reminder that he was not alone in this world.

But his little brother was in Xing, and he was in Creta, thousands of miles away.

The ticking becomes equivalent to nails on a chalkboard. Edward nearly springs to his feet, ready to remove the plating from the fan and expose the mechanical parts within. He’d never tinkered with such things before, but he was willing to try if it meant getting to sleep. He’d observed his fiancée enough in her natural habitat, tinkering with wires and hunks of metal that she managed to turn into working prosthetic limbs, that he was fairly confident he could figure out the fan’s issue on his own. Had Winry been here, she would have had the issue solved the moment they’d walked through the door. With Edward to serve as her assistant, she would have stood atop the mattress, removed the plating from the center of the fan, and requested a screwdriver from her box of tools she’d brought along to keep his automail in check. The muscles in her arms would flex as she worked, and Edward would lose himself in his lustful haze.

He slams his fist against the mattress and groans in frustration.

For the first time in his life, Edward Elric was alone, and he was terrified.

For eighteen years, he had always had someone by his side. For awhile, it had been his mother, and then, his little brother. His companion had slightly shifted to Winry after the brothers’ return home as the two explored their romantic feelings for one another. He had never been alone, and now, with the brothers having gone their separate ways for their research, and Winry staying behind to focus on her career, the loneliness had creeped up on him, ensuring him in its deadly trap. At least his little brother had friends in Xing—Ling, Lan Fan, Mei… Hr would certainly not have trouble making new ones, either. And Winry had her grandmother and Den in Resembool, and Mr. Garfiel, Paninya, and her customers in Rush Valley.

In Creta, Ed has no one, not even a single familiar name.

He drags his hands down his face and bites his tongue, the urge to scream becoming unbearable.

Perhaps he had made a mistake coming here. Would accompanying Alphonse to Xing have been the better option? After all, the brothers were inseparable until recently. Or, maybe leaving the research to his little brother would have been the best option, for it would allow him to stay with the woman who possessed his heart. He would follow her wherever she may go, prideful of her skills, giving her the encouragement she needed to pass her journeyman’s examination.

It was too late to question his decision, now. He’d spent a portion of his most recent veteran’s benefits on travel expenses. Not to mention, he was lying in a bed in Creta, and a trip home would take the rest of the money he had available to him.

He had promised to assist Al in overturning the law of equivalent exchange, and, dammit, Edward Elric always kept his promises.

Still, the ticking of the fan continues to drive him up the wall.

His head lolls to the right, eyes opening halfway. His golden eyes stare off into space, the wall out of focus. The empty half of the bed feels colossal beside him. He reaches out to his left and bunches the sheets in his grasp. After nearly two years of sharing a bed with Winry, the queen-sized mattress provided by the hotel felt incredibly empty. There’s an emptiness in his chest, a dull ache beneath his breastbone. He fully expects to see Al’s golden hair in the dim light, a soft call of ‘Brother’ as he checks to see if Edward was asleep. When it doesn’t come, he rolls to his left and sprawls out. He isn’t met with the tickling of Winry’s hair against his nose when she sleeps with her back toward him, nor is he met with her lazy, apologetic smile, early in the morning when her alarm goes off for work. He cannot throw his arm around her waist and draw her close, nor can he pull her body atop his, grinning as he kissed her face and her giggling rang in his ears. He frowns and allows his eyes to wander the dimly lit room.

The empty couch beneath the window feels ominous somehow. He’d sat upon several couches with his armored brother during the course of their journey, reading deep into the night until Edward fell asleep against him. They were often where he found Alphonse in the mornings, on the rare occasions Ed had retired to bed. He recalls catching his baby brother with a cat in his arms, having hid it from his older brother within his armor. What he wouldn’t give to discover his brother retrieving a cat he’d stuffed beneath his shirt, whispering to it on the couch…

But he was alone, with nothing but two photographs tucked away in his wallet—one of him, Al, and Winry, and the other of Winry by herself.

He looks to the bedside table, examining what sits atop it. He spies a menu for room service, something that would get little use; a bible sits beside it, an item Ed never understood being supplied in every hotel room he’d been in; and, in the center, a phone.

Wait…

A phone!

He scrambles to his feet, standing on the mattress and jumping to the floor. His metal foot thumps loudly against the floor, and a thought of sympathy for whoever may dwell in the room beneath his quickly flashes in his mind. He stands before the bedside table and grabs the receiver, awaiting the voice of the operator.

“Hello,” he hears after a moment, “operator.”

“Yeah, can I get a call to the country of Amestris?”

“Amestris?” the operator on the other end questions. Long-distance calls weren’t common due to their cost, so he guesses she wasn’t used to such a request. “Yes, I can patch you through to Amestris. Can I get the telephone number?”

“Rush Valley, 6503,” he answers.

There’s the clacking of keys on the other end as the operator dials the number provided. She returns, voice cheery. “Patching you through to Rush Valley, 6503.”

Soon, the voice is replaced by familiar ringing. He digs his old pocket watch out of his back pocket and presses the crown to release the latch. It ticks with each passing second. Ed squints at the clock’s face in the dim light. From what he can see, it reads 1:58 A.M.

“Shit,” he whispers. It’s a two-hour difference between Amestris, whose time is ahead. He closes the pocket watch and returns it to his back pocket. With his luck, she would be asleep, his late night call waking her. She was always grumpy when woken. “Shit, shit, shit. Please don’t be sleeping.”

“Can’t sleep when I have orders to fulfill.”

The voice on the other end fails to greet him, perhaps missing her chance with his talking to himself. The tension in his shoulders fades, and Edward lets out a sigh in relief. Even after losing her number one customer after the Promised Day, Winry Rockbell still worked through the night to ensure her customers were taken care of. It was why she had quickly made a name for herself in Rush Valley, as well as the automail community. Come to her in need of urgent repairs or replacements, and she would see to it that it was done. He loved her for it—she’s passionate with her craft as he is with alchemy, but the all-nighters always worried him. Rather than chastise her, however, he’s glad he’s caught her on a busy day.

“You have no idea how nice it is to hear your voice,” he says.

There’s a pause as Winry drills something into place, the sound loud in his ear. He pulls the phone away from his ear until the noise stops.

“Buttering me up won’t work, Ed.” There’s venom in her words. He’s about to be lectured. “You promised to call me as soon as you arrived in Creta. I know damn well you didn’t just get there.”

He threads his fingers through the hair at his neck and gives the strands a slight tug. “I didn’t, you’re right, and I’m sorry for not calling sooner. As soon as I got to my room, I collapsed on the bed.”

He can hear the noise of her soldering gun. As though he was in the room with her, he can see her with her magnifying goggles on, working with the wiring within her creation. He loved watching her when he was home. Now, he could only listen.

The noise from the soldering gun stops. There’s a faint thud, and he guesses she’s set the tool down. “I was worried, you know. I got a call earlier today and I thought it was you. It was Al.”

The mention of his little brother causes his heart to sink. He hadn’t spoken with him, either, since seeing him off to Xing. Had he worried him, too?”

She continues, not giving him a chance to respond. “He’d wanted to know if you had called, yet. I’m supposed to tell him where you’re staying, and the number to the hotel.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I hadn’t heard from you.” The venom that dripped from her words dries up. Instead, there is a pain in her voice. “He did his best to reassure me that you probably got distracted in a library somewhere, but I could tell he was worried.”

His lips set in a line before bending into a frown. He drags the body of the phone across the bedside table, and lies down on the mattress. The springs squeak beneath his weight. For a moment, he returns to staring at the center of the ceiling fan, taking comfort in the gentle breeze against his face. He’d laid like this several times in Resembool, his arm around Winry’s shoulders, fingers playing with her loose hair as she slept against his bare chest.

His eyes close as the ache beneath his breastbone worsens.

“I miss you.”

Those three little words tumble from his lips far too quickly to reel them back in. While they were true—God, they were so god damn true—he can’t help but worry that he’d uttered them far too soon.

On the other end of the receiver, the sound of the soldering gun resumes. He pictures her working with a furrowed brow, hunched over her workspace, attaching wires to one another. He can almost smell the hot resin in the air.

Winry sighs, and the sound of the soldering gun being set down can be heard. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

“Winry, I—”

“Don’t you Winry me!” she admonishes. “Do you have any idea how worried I was when I didn’t hear from you? When you spoke with me in South City, you promised me that you would call as soon as you got to your hotel.”

He drags his hand down his face. He had promised to call, and yet, he’d broken that promise, all because he was too busy feeling sorry for himself, moping about in his hotel room for hours on end. “I know, but—”

“And don’t even get me started on how worried Al was when I told him I hadn’t heard from you! He stays in one place for less time than you. I can’t just call him and tell him where you are—I have to wait for him to call me!”

That was true. Locating Al would be impossible given the size of Xing. The young man wanted to see its entirety. There was no way he would stay in one place for more than two or three days.

Ed pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s a pause in the conversation as he struggles to find his words. “Do you have any idea how shitty it is to be alone? Like, truly alone?”

There’s another pause. He waits for Winry to rebut his inquiry with the fact that the brothers had left her alone for years, but he’s quickly reminded of just how smart and empathetic she is. While it was true that they had left her, she had always had constant company, whether it be Pinako or Garfiel and the lot from Rush Valley. Winry had never been truly alone, not like he was, now, without the constant companionship he’d had throughout his life.

“Ed…”

“I keep expecting Al to walk through the door, or to roll over in bed and find you there with me. It didn’t hit me on the train because I was surrounded by people, but the moment I stepped foot into my room, I laid in bed and started feeling sorry for myself. I miss Al, I miss Den and Granny, I miss the idiots back home that looked at me like I didn’t belong, even! Can you believe that?” His palm covers his eyes, an odd smile twisting his mouth. He sighs through his nose and bites his lip. “I miss you, Winry. I miss you like crazy.”

There’s movement on Winry’s end, and he guesses she’s moving the receiver to her other ear. He waits, the ache in his chest subsiding. “…I miss you, too. Of course I do.”

“I’m happy to hear that.”

He can practically hear her rolling her eyes. There’s a smile in her voice when she says, “You’re such a weirdo.”

“Takes one to know one.”

He’s weightless, the mattress beneath him like a cloud embracing his body. He moves his hand from his face to his belly, hiking up his shirt. He yawns. “You should sleep, Win.”

“Me? What about you?”

“I wanna talk to you.”

Seated at her workbench, Winry removes her magnifying goggles and twirls the phone cord around her finger. She had gone without phone calls for extended periods of time while the brothers were on their journey; perhaps it had been silly of her to anger so quickly at his failure to do so as he promised. At the end of the day, he was still Edward Elric, certified pain in the ass, but she would be lying if she’d claimed to be surprised at his late night call. It was rare for him to break a promise, and while he hadn’t stuck to his intended schedule, he had managed to call her. That was just the type of man he was, the type of man she’d fallen in love with.

She leans back in her chair and stretches out her legs. “Okay then, what city are you in?”

She receives no response.

“Ed?”

Nothing.

“Hello? Earth to Ed! I asked you a question.”

On the other end, she can hear a soft snore.

He’d fallen asleep.

She giggles. “Goodnight, dummy.”

———

And in the morning, when Edward finally wakes, he’s overjoyed to discover that his fiancée had remained on the other line through the night, ready to greet him as he yawns.

[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

Those Linked by Destiny (1)

Summary: Bucky, Sam, and Natasha are on a mission to once again defeat Hydra who this time had opened a time portal that unleashed monsters and beasts that were extinct for centuries for good reason. On the way, they try to recruit the only remaining person who had any knowledge on how to defeat these creatures. Her kind also almost extinct. A Witcher.

Fandoms: Avengers, The Witcher

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Witcher!OFC (Female)

Warnings: Angst (coz this is me), Dry Dark Humour, Violence, Gore, Lots of Blood, Burning Sarcasm, Lots of Cussing

A/N: Hello, beautiful creatures! I’m back with a new hurricane of a crossover. This continues on from my completed series There’s More Than One Way To Start An Apocalypse (AvengersxSupernatural) but this can be read by itself. I made this an OFC instead of an xReader since I needed to be specific with how the Witcher character looked. I hope you enjoy and I welcome all kinds of feedback.

No permission is granted to repost my work. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Masterlist

1: Returning a Favor

The sun was preparing to set when Sam, Bucky, and Natasha reached the small sleepy town. Their clothes were starting to scratch and bite at their skin from the sweat and grime of trying to make it to their destination on foot. They had been taking back roads and keeping to thick forests to keep hidden from Hydra and the monsters they had unleashed. It hasn't always gone smoothly for them.

The Avengers and Team Free Will had split up to tackle three major missions; hunting down every remaining grace powered monster created by the Archangel Michael, re-establishing the Avengers initiative and operations, and this new unfamiliar threat. They had discovered that Hydra was back and had opened a portal that unleashed creatures that were wholly unknown to even the Hunters.

The trio was tasked with gathering as much intel as they could and searching for a friend of Natasha and the Nephilim who they said was the only person who could help them. It had taken them eight months to track down someone who was practically a ghost.

They were all on edge and nearly losing hope, but finally they got a lead on an exact location. It took nearly two weeks to reach the town after a particularly nasty encounter with a cluster of monsters. They were outnumbered and had no knowledge about the enemy to even properly fight. They barely made it out alive.

Sam sat on the forest floor with his back to the trunk of a tree clutching his open abdomen. He was bleeding on the grass and the first aid they had been continuously applying on him was the only thing keeping him alive at this point. They needed to get him patched up properly. Bucky switched his legs to lean more on his left as he crouched behind thick shrubbery beside Natasha. Judging by the sharp pain from his other leg, he was sure it was broken. The female assassin wasn't any better off having taken multiple large slashing wounds to her back.

Bucky suggested that they go back to Avengers headquarters. It was Natasha though that insisted this is where they needed to go. They needed to lie low, heal, regroup, and find backup, but they were running out of time. The more time Hydra was left alone, the worse it was going to get. Bucky was skeptical, especially with Sam clinging on to his life, but he knew that Natasha was in fact right.

In front of them was a medium sized log cabin tucked away in the forest with a garden and a small greenhouse out back. Bucky's enhanced senses could pick up common vegetables and herbs like tomatoes, carrots, and basil, but he also caught whiffs of plants that smelled like exotic flowers of some sort. The house was still fairly close to town with only a 45-minute drive but it was miles away to the next house.

The serene silence of the isolated area was disrupted by peels of laughter from a group of children that were running around the garden. Their hands and clothes were stained with either paint or dirt. Some more gleeful that they had both. Bucky frowned. 

Were they supposed to seek shelter in a daycare?

The children would surely be scarred for life if they saw the Falcon bleeding out nevermind who his two companions were. His worry for his friend’s wellbeing clouded the Sergeant’s capability to grasp why this was where they needed to be.

The slow crunch of tires on the dirt road followed by two soft beeps disrupted Bucky's tired brooding. A mini bus parked beside a weathered brown truck in the driveway. A woman came out the back door clutching a child, that was practically a baby with how small it was, securely to her chest. Bucky couldn't see her face, only her slender figure and the wavy hair that fell down her back in a mess of random pastel colors that seemed to be popular with the youth these days. Her short yellow sun dress flowed with each movement she made.

Bucky's doubts at Natasha's plan grew. How could this hipster possibly help them? The low groan of pain from behind reminded him that they had no choice at this point. They were here now and Sam needed urgent medical attention. He would just have to trust Natasha a bit more.

He watched as she instructed the children to put away their art materials and wash up. He watched as she hugged or petted each beaming child as they boarded the mini bus. He watched as she carefully strapped in the baby in his designated seat while exchanging conversation with the middle aged driver who smiled warmly at her. He still couldn't see her face, but he could hear her laugh at something the driver said. After a final wave the bus full of energetic children started to pull out of the driveway.

Bucky's doubts continued to gnaw at him, but now for a different reason. This woman seemed so kind and carefree. Must they really disturb her peaceful life for their chaos? He turned then to voice his worries to Natasha, but before he could get a word out he felt an unbelievably strong force hit his chest and propel him backwards. He was forcefully pinned to a tree with the air knocked clear out of his lungs.

His first instinct was to fight back, but opening his eyes after the attack he froze when he met with the most peculiar yet mesmerizing pair. Round almond shaped and framed with thick heavy lashes were eyes the color of bright molten gold with irises in dark slits like that of a cat's. He would swear they were contacts if he didn't notice how they stretched and dilated as they retained their murderous gaze on him. Her hair fell like a cloud around her face softening her sharp bone structure and the snarl on her gloss covered lips.

So enthralled was Bucky at her unique features, that it took him an embarrassingly long time to register the double bladed axe she held easily with one hand outstretched flush against the skin of his throat. One small flick of her wrist and Bucky would be bleeding to his death in minutes.

"Why have you brought him here, Natasha?" she said, her voice even and low. Bucky noticed a European accent but he couldn't quite place which particular area.

"You know me?" Bucky met her unfaltering glare with his own.

"Everyone knows you, Winter Soldier," she sneered. "Everyone knows all of you."

Bucky scowled at the name. He didn't appreciate the tone she had when she said it. There was an obvious disdain and anger in her tone that he wasn't sure was warranted.

"Easy, Prima. We need your help," Natasha tried to coax her but she did not advance in case she gets provoked.

"And if I refuse?"

"Well then I'm cashing in that favor."

There was a long tense silence before his throat was reluctantly freed. He rubbed the shallow angry line it had left. The woman with cat-like eyes sighed as she swung the large weapon to hook over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. She rolled her eyes before she turned and gestured for you all to follow.

Bucky noted how Natasha's shoulders sagged in relief. She was worried that her contact might decline. They each took one of Sam's sides and practically hauled his barely conscious form to the cabin. They followed the woman into her home, the receding skyline bouncing light and shadow on her figure. It wasn't even ten minutes ago that Bucky was hesitant to disrupt this woman's very normal life, but normal people don't just carry battle axes let alone have the skill to wield it.

"Natasha," he whispered. "What exactly is she?"

Natasha had told them a little about Witchers in between dashing from town to town, but it amused Prima that Bucky was still thoroughly surprised when they actually met her. Clearly she didn't go into the specifics.

He could hear the smirk in her tone despite still having her back to them. She had heard his hushed question despite walking far ahead of them and decided to answer.

"Perhaps we can discuss my nature when your friend is no longer seeping Water Hag poison from his wounds."

"So that's what that thing was. How do you know it's Water Hag poison?" Natasha grunted under Sam's weight.

"I can smell it and that's the only reason I'm granting you this favor."

Prima rushed inside her home ahead of her guests, going quickly to the kitchen to pull out a large tarpaulin from under the sink. She was definitely going to help them but that didn't mean she was going to damn well leave an Avenger to bleed all over her precious furniture.

She opened the chest that doubled as a coffee table and pulled out thick worn blankets. She was already laying these out on the floor by the fireplace by the time the rest of them came through the front door.

Bucky surveyed the room as he entered. It was a force of habit to commit every detail to memory when entering a new environment. Normally it could mean life or death, but in this instance it was pure curiosity with a healthy mix of suspicion. 

From the outside, the cabin had looked a decent size but from the inside it looked much bigger. He thought that perhaps it was too much space for someone he presumed was living alone.

The house was a mixture of modern and rustic decorated in wood, metal, and splashes of vibrant color here and there. A gray short hair cat perked up in attention from its bedding as they entered. The main floor was open with no walls dividing areas and a set of stairs led to a spacious loft that again had no partitions. Large windows lined the walls providing an almost 360 degree view to the outside. It was almost like being in a glass box, but he knew for a fact that those windows were heavily tinted outside providing the utmost privacy. The state of the home told Bucky a lot about its owner.

"Lay him down here," Prima said pointing to the makeshift cot. "It's best he is by the fire. We need to keep him warm."

Natasha and Bucky gently laid down their friend as instructed. Sam groaned as the material pressed on his injuries and Natasha made quick work of cutting him out of his ruined tactical gear with her knife. His body relaxed the slightest bit after being freed but this also meant that his wounds opened again to spill more of his blood on the tarpaulin.

"It's worse than I thought," Prima murmured. "Take this and apply pressure to the worst of it. I must prepare a few things."

Natasha nodded as she took the towels from her. She rushed through the back door and from its opening, Bucky could see that she went straight into her greenhouse. She was back within minutes carrying a small woven tray filled with plants he couldn't even begin to identify. The cat followed closely on her heels, the small bell on its neck ringing softly.

She headed straight for the other end of the room to what he initially thought was a library and craft area. Looking at it closely now he could see not only books but a wide array of jars, bottles, and small boxes. She grabbed two containers from the shelves and dropped its contents into a wooden bowl. She began mashing and mixing them together quickly before pouring the strange yellowish liquid into glass vials. She grabbed a few more bottles from the shelves before making her way to kneel by Sam's head.

"Help me sit him up. He needs to drink this."

"I'm not sure about this, Nat," came Bucky's worried tone as he eyed their host with narrowed eyes.

"Bucky!" Nat warned. They didn't have time for this.

"What the hell is even in that?"

"Sergeant Barnes, would you like me to educate you on the finer points of alchemy before or after we save your dying friend?" Prima argued, her jaw clenching. "Clock is ticking, Sergeant. The choice may well be taken from you soon."

Bucky's teeth gritted together as his whole body tensed with the decision. His brow was in knots, but ultimately he knew there was only one decision to make. He cursed under his breath but moved to heave Sam into a sitting position.

Prima uncorked one of the bottles and tipped it over Sam's lips carefully making sure that he took every drop. His face scrunched at the taste but his eyes remained closed, too exhausted to open them. His breathing started to speed up until they were shallow huffs and his temperature steadily rose.

"What the hell's happening to him?" Bucky fumed but Prima held out her hand to halt him as she carefully watched Sam's reactions with her strange cat eyes that were now narrowed into slits.

The air in the room was thick with tension and the only sounds were that of Sam's heavy breathing that was rapidly growing more laborious. When it seemed like he was at the height of his torment, Prima acted fast and shoved a second vial of clear liquid to his lips. He almost choked on the liquid but by some grace of the gods he managed to swallow it all.

After the last drop had gone down his throat, his eyes shot wide open before fluttering close as he dropped unconscious against the pillows. Bucky panicked when he couldn't hear his heartbeat and was about to lash out at Prima again when suddenly a faint thump that was fighting to get steadier met his ears in a manner that was uniquely stubborn like Sam.

Prima took a hand to feel his sweaty face and was relieved to find that his temperature was dropping closer to normal. They were past the worst of it now and she was grateful he took well to the potions. It was a gamble. Humans were not meant to take in Witcher brews. She could have just as easily killed him.

"He should be fine by morning. We must allow the potions do the work for now. I'll keep watch in case he needs another dose."

She grabbed one of the other bottles in her stash and tossed one to Natasha who easily caught it. The assassin raised a quizzical brow at her.

"Take only a small sip, Natasha. Pour the rest of it in the bath upstairs and take a long soak. It should help close up your wounds. You are welcome to rummage through my drawers for clean clothes."

"What happens if she takes more?" Bucky asked.

"Well all her injuries and even scars from her childhood will cease to exist. Every broken bone and illness will be cured," she shrugged as she relaxed against a wall stretching out her legs in front of her. She closed her eyes to allow the tension of the last hour to ease off her body as she absentmindedly stroked the cat that had now curled up contentedly beside her.

"That doesn't sound so bad," Natasha mused before carefully taking only the small sip she recommended.

"And then you die," the Witcher chuckled allowing a sharper than usual canine to peak out from her smile.

Bucky was not amused despite Natasha chuckling at the comment before making her way up the stairs. He was understandably wary of anything chemical to be put inside his body after what Hydra had done to him. Their host seemed to somehow sense this so made no move to offer him any concoction for his injuries.

"Bathroom's through the door behind you should you fancy a shower, Sergeant. There should be clothes in the cupboards too but they might be a tad tight. I'll go into town in the morning to purchase more appropriate wear for you and your friend. First aid kit is under the sink."

Bucky gave a small nod as he silently walked to the door she gestured to. As he meticulously washed the dirt and fatigue from his body, he found his thoughts straying to their unusual host. He had realized that her accent was classic old European, with the kind of vocabulary that prim and proper upper-class citizens used. What did not make sense though was how a European socialite would have the practiced ease of wielding a battle axe. Her cat eyes alone tipped him off that she was not merely human. The more he thought about it, the more everything he knew so far contradicted with each other. He was no closer to figuring her out when he stepped out of the bathroom adjusting the shirt and jeans that clung to him.

He saw the Witcher sound asleep on the floor, her head lolled to the side and her mouth softly parted. There were a million questions he wanted to ask her, but he couldn't bring himself to disrupt her peaceful sleep. He instead made his way to crash on the sofa. Sleep came to him as soon as his head met the arm rest. He drifted off with the Witcher's eerie eyes the last on his mind and a nagging feeling that there was something about her that was strangely familiar to him.

Masterlist | Tags are Open

[lairofsentinel]

Ok since Mystra came back in 1487, and the game is about 1494, would that mean she immediately went after Gale? Like she was dead until 1487 so... if gale was 20 or younger, 18 when that happened he would be early 30s? I just want to know companions ages...

Ok, this is a long, LONG answer. I've been thinking about this like a month ago, when I was working on my fic. I will show you the different hypotheses I work with, their cons and pros. 

A warning: all this is my personal headcanon and my personal opinion, it doesn't mean it's the “truth”.

[Baldur’s Gate 3 Early Access, Spoilers]

I think you are using some dates a little different or the sources I'm using are wrong.

What we know as canon:

From wiki:

Mystra returned to the Forgotten Realms in 1479 DR. A vestige of Mystra had survived her death in 1385 DR, and was guiding her Chosen to aid in her renewal.

From Forgotten Realm wiki:

In 1479 DR Elminster and Storm restored the Simbul's sanity by feeding her a Blueflame item. After her mind was restored, she charged both Elminster and Manshoon to work to gather all the Blueflame items together, possibly to restore Mystra

Conclusion: Mystra returned in 1479 DR

Another bit of canon: Baldur's Gate 3 takes place in 1492

From Forgotten Realm wiki:

The game takes place as of 1492 DR, and is defined as the "current year", as is stated in a tollhouse ledger. The ledger can be found under the Order of the Gauntlet's makeshift base.

This is one of the “canon” inconsistencies that enrages me, since the game shows it takes place after “the descend to Avernus”, which happens in 1494. Therefore, Larian saying this is placed in 1492 when featuring the ending of the descend to avernus in it, only puts us in a situation with a strong problem in its coherence. I'm just ignoring this by now until Larian corrects themselves. Or  they say something on the matter. So far, I will stick with what the game and its wiki show.   UPDATE: Apparently the one with problems in their date is Descend to Avernus, according wiki: 

 Canon material provides two distinct dates for the events described in Baldur's Gate: Descent into Avernus: the adventure itself, described in chapters 1 through 5, takes place in 1494 DR, according to events mentioned in pages 7 and 47, while the Baldur's Gate Gazetteer describes the city as of 1492 DR (p. 159).

Conclusion: BG3 happens in 1492 DR

Now we are going to proceed to the hypotheses:

Hypothesis one: Gale is around 40 years old.

Reasons: This is my personal headcanon. By the way his face wrinkles, I have the feeling he is closer to his early/middle 40 than his middle 30s. Those crow-feet speak volumes to me. It's true that wrinkles depend a lot of the type of skin you have, your nutrition, your health, your level of stress, and your genetic. There are people who has deep wrinkles in their 20 or a baby-face in their 50s. But statistically speaking, using the average concept of how population gets wrinkles over the years, I'm inclined to think he is in his 40.

If BG3 happens in 1492 DR, and he is 40 y/o, this means he was born in 1452 DR.

Mystra returned from death after 1479, when Gale was 27 years old. This means that Gale's involvement with Mystra happened when he was 27 y/o or older [nothing says that the affair had to happen in that same year, right there after she came back... it could have happened several years later]

Pros: This theory fits a lot more the wrinkles we see with Gale's current age, in my opinion.

Cons: 27 y/o is not “a young man” age in the sense Gale explained during his scene.  Also from a design point of view, and considering the amount of stress and fear that Gale has been living during his last decade [at least], he should be displaying some grey hair as well. First grey hair tends to appear [once again, all this is pure statistical observations in the white population] around their 35's. And it's also well known that constant stress tends to accelerate them, so more evidence against this concept: if he is around 40 y/o and lives stressed as fuck as he has explained, he should be displaying a good amount of grey hair. Maybe we'll see them in a future patch? Maybe not. Only Larian knows.

Hypothesis two: Gale is around 35 [30] years old.

Reasons: This headcanon implies that Gale has more wrinkles than the average of people in such age. But then again, we can't assume this is a rule set on stone. As I said before, skin and genetics depend a lot in the way we age. This age sounds adequate for not displaying grey hair yet, but then again, he is under a lot of stress. It would be expected to have premature grey hair under such conditions.

If BG3 happens in 1492 DR, and he is 35 [30] y/o, this means he was born in 1457 [1462] DR.

Mystra returned from death after 1479, when Gale was 22 [17] years old. This means that Gale's involvement with Mystra happened when he was, at least, 22 [17] y/o or older.

Pros: This theory fits a little less in the amount of  wrinkles we see with Gale's current age in my opinion. It justifies a bit better the lack of grey hair, even though I prefer the idea that, no matter his age, after the orb event, his stress is constant and that should cause premature grey hair. But this is personal taste.

Cons: 22 [17]  y/o is certainly “a young man” age in the sense Gale explained during his scene. I know 17 y/o may sound weird, but we can assume two things: 1) Mystra gave a shit about it [she is a goddess, she cares little for mortal details] or 2) Mystra waited a time before whispering in Gale's ears. Pick the one you prefer. In both cases, 17 and 22, fit perfectly the concept that he was too naïve and young to see the true weight of his involvement with Mystra.

Hypothesis three: Gale is ancient. As a wizard, he can extend his life with magic, artefacts, and potions.

Reasons: This headcanon implies that Gale has lived the Spellplague, and his affair with Mystra happened before 1385 DR and before her death. It could have happened at any age.

In this scenario, since he would be under some magical effect of longevity, we can't even guess his current age, and  his few wrinkles [for an ancient man] and lack of grey hair would be justified by such magical effects as well.

Pro: This theory fits well with whatever inconsistency in his design that could suggest or not certain age in Gale's apperance.

Cons: We are completely lost in the timeline, and we cannot make any decent estimation

I personally do not support this theory because 2 reasons:

When Gale narrates the story of “the little silly wizard”, he explicitly says “not so long ago” when he explained his affair with Mystra. On the other hand, when he explains Karsus' folly, he explicitly says “Long, long time ago”. It's evident in my opinion that he perceives the times of Mystra's death as something that happened too long ago, while placing his own youth in a more recent time frame.

If Gale were ancient, he would speak of the Spellplague time in a more dramatic way. Since Magic and Weave are so important in his life, that historical event should have scarred his mind deeply.

Final conclusion

I personally like the idea of Gale being around his 40. It's true it doesn't fit well when he describes himself as a “young man” during his affair with Mystra, but I think his current design fits more to a man in his early 40. If you read my DOS2 metas, you will also know that Larian is well-known to overlook details of this nature or simply ignore their own lore, so incoherence is something I always expect from them, especially when we do analysis with this freak level of detail.

Gale being 35 y/o or younger is also valid since it's an hypothesis that fits much better the concept of “young man”, though he looks a lot more aged than he should be. One could assume this premature ageing is caused by the stress of the Netherese infection in his chest, but in that case it should be fairer to add to his wrinkles a stronger presence of grey hair.

I don't support at all the theory of Gale being ancient.

[rainplaysswtor]

SWTOR: New player help: Contending with bugs

It's not a bug, it's a feature! It's working as intended! As you play SWTOR, you will notice that...things don't always go as expected. Here are some helpful tips for new players (and more long term players too) to try to help handle some of the most common bugs you will find in the game. 

First thing: report the bugs you encounter. If nobody knows something's going wrong, it can't be fixed. 

Everyone including free to play players can now use the in-game bug reporting system. How? 

1. Go into your chat box (usually at the upper left of your screen and type /bug)

2. This should open a window that will allow you to type a short description of the bug you are seeing. Describe the bug. Make sure you mention 1) exactly what you were doing and 2) what was not working. For example: 

"During the introduction scene for the flashpoint "This is Way Too Long," the character "I Don't Like You" does not have a head." 

3. Press ' submit.' 

Keep in mind that you will not get a response or any direct help from a bug report. This is to let the developers know what is not working in the game, so they can hopefully fix it. 

2. Wait a little while after there's a new patch or game update

When there's a new game update or patch (you will know because you have new files that will automatically download when you launch the game), don't jump right into the new content with your favorite best character. Wait. It's hard, I know, but wait. The general trend over the past few years has been that new patches and updates always have bugs, and sometimes they're doozies. 

It helps to have a "me first" character or two - perhaps a clone of your main - to wade into new content on the first day or week if you really want to see it. That way you can see the new content without being completely angry that it's messed something up for your characters or isn't running quite right. 

3. Keep an eye on the Bug Reports section of SWTOR.com and the SWTOR Twitter account. 

Even if you are not a subscriber you can still read the Bug Reports forum (I would not recommend the rest of the forums, though). There's usually a running list of known bugs for each patch listed at the top of the page. Also keep an eye on the SWTOR Twitter account. You can read it without being a registered Twitter user, and it will let you know when the game is going down for maintenance or an update. 

4. If you are facing a bug that is making it impossible to complete a quest you need for story progression, you can reach out to SWTOR customer service for assistance. If you are a subscriber, press the little gears icon at the top of your screen, choose "customer service" and then "request help." If you are not subscriber, you can reach support at support@swtor.com. 

SPECIFIC STRATEGIES FOR COMMON BUGS

1. Help! My abilities bar got unlocked and I cannot get it to lock again!

When this happens, all your abilities will 'float' or move from their placements, which understandably makes it hard to fight. How to get around this: 

1. When you are NOT IN COMBAT, press CTRL+U. All of your abilities bars/maps/etc. will vanish. Don't panic. This is the way. 

2. Press CTRL+U again. Everything should come back. It may take a moment. Wait. 

2. Oh no! My character's stuck in a rock!

Or on a cliff, or under a box, or up a tree. We've all been there. Go to your chat box (upper left, usually).

1. Write /stuck in the chat. This will either move your character to a place where they aren't stuck, or it will kill them and put them back at the nearest medical base. 

2. What's that? Stuck isn't working, or you just used it and it needs to cool down? You can try using Quick Travel to travel to a nearby medical base. 

3. Still nothing? Try porting to a stronghold, your ship or the Fleet. 

4. Try logging out and logging back in. 

3. What? I can't click the blue thing. 

This bug has shown up all over the place, where an objective will be lit blue, but unclickable. I've found a few places where nothing I do makes this work. 

1. Try changing instances. 

2. Try logging out and back in. 

4. This is a great cut scene...why is it freezing?!

Several years ago this bug was so severe in the Sith Warrior and Imperial Agent stories that only customer service could resolve it. It seems better now, but here are some ideas. 

1. ESC out of the scene. Now try to start the scene again by clicking on the NPC /objective/whatever is the scene starter. 

2. Can you guess? Log out and back in. 

3. Close the game and try re-launching. 

4. Try lowering your graphics settings in the game. Don't know why this works, but it did sometimes. 

5. My character is frozen in a weird pose. 

Just laugh at it, take a screenshot and share it with your friends so they can laugh. Typically this will not affect actual combat and will go away on its own eventually. 

6. I want to romance Lana Beniko, Koth Vortena or Theron Shan in KOTFE...but I've heard things about the romance vanishing. 

There are two general ways the romances in KOTFE get borked:

1. A patch happens before the romance is locked in (chapter 9) and all the player's flirts from chapters 3-8 are reset. The game thus forgets you were trying to romance Lana and you don't get the romance dialogue option in chapter 9. I've also heard of Koth and Theron romances vanishing, but not as often. The solution is to NOT play through chapters 3-9 of KOTFE when there's a patch happening. My general tactic is to play those chapters straight through, and not stop until I get to chapter 10, to make sure the romance is locked and won't be interrupted by a patch.

2. The player misunderstands the really poorly framed dialogue wheel in chapter 9. There's a moment, pictured below, where the camera faces Theron Shan, and there are choices that say "I need to see one of you" and "I need to see one of you" [flirt]. IT IS NOT JUST REFERRING TO THERON. If you are flirting with Lana or Koth and want to lock in their romance, DO NOT CLICK ON THE FIRST CHOICE (which is helpfully lit up here for your reference). YOU NEED TO CHOOSE THE [FLIRT] HERE, as well as the [flirt] in the conversation when you are alone with your companion of choice.  

When your actions or conversation choice will start or end a romance, from KOTFE onward, you will receive a pop up warning that looks something like this. 

Caption: This choice will begin a romance with Lana Beniko. Are you sure you wish to proceed? CONTINUE - CANCEL Once you have this scene, MAKE SURE you finish chapter 9 entirely so your choices don't get wiped out in a future patch!

7. My companion is stuck in place and won't move. 

There you go, charging into the fray...there's your companion, lingering awkwardly at the threshold and not participating. Oops. You can usually wake them up by sending them away and then bringing them back. Easy ways to do this include: 

1) Send them to sell junk (press N. Go to your companion who is with you. Press the little icon near their name to get them to sell the junk. Depending on the legacy perks you have purchased they will be gone for between 5 and 30 seconds)

2) Summon another companion, any of them, and then summon back the one you want. 

3) It didn't work? Sometimes companions do seem to go on strike and you will probably just want to summon another to continue playing. This is a good reason to remember to have more than one companion at high influence, if you can, so you can switch as needed. 

8. My companion keeps falling over. 

Sternly tell your companion it's not time for a nap. Kidding. They really don't care. Any time is nap time. The steps in #7 should work to wake them up again. 

9. I'm trying to loot something and it's telling me "out of range." 

First, are you sure it's your loot and not some other player's? If it's yours, you can sometimes pick it up by walking away and then returning. Other times, look for someone else nearby to loot. I've on occasion found things unlootable, which is frustrating. 

[emily-the-fae]

Sound of a Heartbeat

Part 3. Back to Business

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Here I am, back with a new chapter. I have absolutely no betas, so this is what I get after editing the text myself.

Pairing: Dracula x OC

Warnings: absolutley none

What Shari did not expect, was to feel cold - in fact, there was now extremely unpleasant cold at her back and something burning warm and soft at her side, the juxtaposition making her shiver and move her shoulders. As soon as she did so, sharp pain shot through the left side of her neck, causing her to flinch and groan, straightening her shoulders carefully as not to evoke another shot of pain. Why-why-why does this have to sting so much all over again? Shari could hear some sounds around her - noises like obscured quiet dialogue, the voices were still undetectable, but she already had a hint of who they might belong to. Next there was a raspy sound of someone's - or something's - quick breathing right next to her ear. Light struck her eyes through closed eyelids, causing her to turn her head, wincing. There was a sound of footsteps coming closer. Some other noise, getting louder by second, until she finally heard...

- Shari! - as soon as she opened her eyes, she saw Sypha leaning above her, anxious face watching her reaction carefully, strands of red hair falling in front of her eyes.

Shari bolted upwards, nearly bumping into the speaker and instantly regretting it as sharp pain shot through her body, she bent forward, almost folding in half, then straightened up again, taking deep breaths. Alright, easy. This is what surviving feels like. She was going to live for now. Shari looked around: she was laying on the snowy forest floor next to a campfire, her body covered with a warm cape; the wood opening was lit in dim daylight, Sypha was crouching on the ground next to her, Adrian and Trevor staring at her from across the campfire; Rodo crawled closer, putting his muzzle onto her lap and wagging his short tail happily, his nose poking her belly.

She caressed his big furry head absentmindedly. Shari did not understand how the hell she managed to make it back, especially considering her health condition. She was expecting anything, but home sweet home among the three friends on the other side of the water.

Something moved on the edge of her peripheral vision, between the trunks of the trees and Shari had to turn her shoulders fully in order to keep her neck as immobile as possible, as she tried to look in the direction of the movement. She saw a shadowy figure of the ghost stare at her, hovering immobile close to the edge of the trees. Oh, Lisa Tepes is not going to leave her alone now. She knew Shari would survive, somehow the damned woman just knew it. Now the healer could be sure the ghost will stick to her for some time and continue the scheme of "go and save the world". A very pleasant beginning of the day.

- Lord, it's so good that you're back. We seriously thought that we might lose you, - Sypha threw her arms around Shari's neck, for the time being taking the healer's thoughts off her new acquaintance. - I tried all I could, you know, magic and other stuff... Adrian almost suggested turning you, - Shari snorted. Like hell he would have.

- How long was I...?

- Three days, - Sypha's face was probably as pale as her own. The poor girl must have done all she was capable of to keep Shari alive.

- To be honest, I am quite surprised that my father didn't finish what he started, but I am anyway relieved, that you are well, - Adrian walked up to her and petted her shoulder. - I'm so sorry we weren't there to help you straight away.

- It's fine, Adrian, we couldn't have predicted that he would pay us a visit. It's not anybody's fault, - no it is. My own and yours too, it was a dumb idea to leave the most battle-unprepared person alone. Shari shut the voice in her head and smiled weakly.

Trevor just nodded from across the fire, listening to their exchange; he watched the three of them, his gaze from time to time drifting back to Shari, or rather to the reddened patch on her neck. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if hesitant to speak, then finally spilled it out:

- How did he attack you? How did he find us? Did he speak? – the hunter started throwing questions at her and Shari got a strong feeling of being interrogated.

- I-I don't know, - Shari almost lied, throwing a cautious glance at Lisa. - He just, sort of, appeared and attacked me that's mostly it.

- He probably watched us. She was alone, so he decided to weaken us by removing the one left vulnerable, - Adrian finished, lowering himself on the ground next to the healer. Shari didn't want to respond, dropping herself to her improvised bed in exhaustion.

- You must be more or less right. That night is a bit foggy in my memory, really, - she huffed.

- He has a nasty habit of putting his victims under hypnosis, so your condition is quite - I almost said normal - quite to be expected I dare say, - Adrian mumbled matter-of-factedly, his palm coming up to caress her head and brush away a few stray strands of hair from her face. Shari felt her stomach turn in fear at the word "victims", she breathed out heavily. Silence followed.

- Guys, seriously, I feel drained... - Shari stretched as well as she could; Sypha snorted at her involuntary pun. - Can I please just rest for a while?

- Of course. Take your time and gain some strength. You'll need it soon, - Adrian spoke before anyone could respond. He stretched out his hand to take her palm in his for a moment, capturing her attention. - You deserve some rest. Thank you... For not dying on us. Really, - his tone began to be uncharacteristically serious, but as he ended his words in a chuckle, Shari could only breath out and smile warmly. Sypha just nodded and hurried to cover her once more with the large warm cape - the healer wasn't sure if it was Adrian's of Trevor's.

Shari lay back in peace for once, feeling Rodo's large warm form next to herself and letting the sounds of the forest wash over her. Maybe she could at least get some normal sleep.

***

When she woke up the next time, it was already deep in the night. The fire was burning low, Sypha and Trevor sleeping soundly on the ground around it, curled into two freezing balls, an empty bottle next to Trevor's hand - as per usual - and Adrian nowhere to be seen. Rodo purred in discontent, shaking his sleepy red eyed head, when Shari tried to sit up.

There was a shadow at the edge of the trees once again watching the small campsite intently; Shari could see it clearly its outline hiding behind the tree trunks. Lisa. The woman caught her gaze and beckoned her to come closer. Shari shook her head at first, but the woman only continued gesturing more aggressively; she hesitated for a while, contemplating whether she should just turn on her side and go back to sleep, then stood up at last almost against her own will, walking up to the ghost cautiously, ready for any unpleasant surprise. She felt like she was going to regret even this small decision.

Lisa, seeing her move, turned away and walked further into the tree shadows, leading the human away from the campfire; Shari could barely follow her transparent form, walking through the bushes careful not to make too much noise that could awaken her unaware companions. Rodo ran behind his human, smelling the air around him for any traces of life, his huge claws making him clumsy as he trotted through the bushes. At first Shari could barely see her way, cursing under her breath as she went until all of a sudden she found herself in an opening once more, a small free patch of ground formed around an old fallen tree, it's darkened trunk laying on the ground and clearing some space around it; Shari saw the ghost settle on top of the trunk as if sitting down on a bench, gesturing for the human to do the same. Shari walked closer and lowered herself next to the woman. It was silent for a few moments.

- Did you really have to do that? - Shari spoke up.

- Do what? - Lisa responded.

- Appear to me. Rush my decisions.

- I didn't. In fact, I tried to tell you to think it over, if you remember?

- Oh yes, you didn't intimidate me with the prospects of returning to Earth straight for a painful fight, - sarcasm it is.

- I needed you to be out here.

Silence once more.

- Why don't they see you? Adrian and others - you were there in the morning, but they didn't notice. Are you just a hallucination? In my head? I’m going insane, am I? - Shari asked. The ghost sighed in response, lowering her head.

- No, no. I believe, you... Crossed some border because of almost dying. You aren't supposed to be seeing me now, it never happened to me before... Maybe you are able to see the other dead too. Maybe it's just me because I tried to connect to you, - Lisa answered, unconfident, studying the girl's face. - I was never exactly an expert in the paranormal field.

- You raised a vampire son.

- That's different!

Pause.

- I'm still not going to go looking for Dracula, - Shari stated.

- You can go looking for his castle instead then, - Lisa was seemingly unworried about her decision.

- Looking for his castle?! Do you even hear yourself? How is that supposed to be "instead"? How.. Wait, why?

- Well, as you said, you want to hold onto your life - he has the answer to your sickness, your salvation - I know, I remember, I've been to his library - if you manage to find the castle, you will as well find the cure, - Lisa smiled knowingly at Shari's visible confusion. The healer wrinkled her nose, thinking. Now there was something to it – could be possible; a chance for longer survival, if the stories didn’t lie; besides Dracula is quite busy and Lisa had told her she watched over him. But still...

- Oh no, I'm not buying this. You're just telling this to me, because you want me to encounter him. He very obviously will be there and will certainly be not happy about a human intruder. I won't go, nope, - Shari replied.

- Don't you think it's the better option of not encountering him? - there was a smirk on the ghost's face now.

- Oh, yes, why would that be?

- He's following you four around, he said it himself, so he will definitely notice you are still alive and quite soon. But I do know he is not as often in his castle nowadays - so if you leave the others, in fact, you will have better chances of...

- Alright, alright, Lady Logic, I get it. What's in it for you then? Making me search the castle? Sounds all too good for me and nothing for you, as you place it. What do you have in mind?- Shari stared at the ghost suspiciously, waiting for the answer.

- His castle and all its movement is controlled only from the inside, I know it for sure. And maybe, just maybe, together we could find a way to reverse this war with minimum blood. If we find a way to stick the castle to one place, he will have to be more careful, because his safe place will grow more vulnerable. As for Adrian and your team out there – they wouldn’t be able to ambush him. Drawn in that condition they may have more time and necessity to… reconsider some of their tactics. Who says diplomacy should work without a little destructive help? You and I – together we can create the needed mess, - Lisa responded. This sounded almost like a rehearsed speech. - Magic and knowledge: if you help it may actually work out.

- And that's all? - Shari raised an eyebrow.

- Yes.

- Too simple.

- Only on speech, - Lisa tilted her head towards Shari. - Do we have a deal?

- I don't trust you, - Shari cut back. - You're nice and all, but I don't trust you, - she stood up from the tree trunk.

- You don't have to. But we need each other, you have to admit it, - the ghost responded with an amused smile. Shari really wanted to shut her ears and run away. This was no good. There was no way the ghost wasn't lying about Dracula deserting his castle; Adrian said he wouldn't... Though Adrian didn't expect him to be watching them either.

- Okay. Say I do trust you – for now. What do I do? How do I get away and to his castle without Adrian?

- Leave tomorrow. Tell them you need to go and settle some personal matter – or rest somewhere peaceful, that you know of a small village to rest in for a while. That you're sick and solving it - it's not far from the truth. You'll catch up with them in some time… possibly, - Lisa told it all as if she had planned the whole thing a long time ago, which unnerved Shari quite a lot.

- Will I though? - mistrust once again.

- Depends on you, - the ghost dissolved into thin air. - Remember, we both need each other.