#anyway. very curious how this quest is going to end. i want to rip him limb from limb and then stitch him back together again after | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rynnaaurelius · 3 years

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Titan’s Curse But Make It Time Loop: Nico di Angelo Edition

-Okay so I’m at work and not doing much and who wants to actually edit your shit drafts for your actual WIPs so that they’re less bad? No one, that’s who

-So I had an idea: The Titan’s Curse. Also known as the book where people start to die. It sucks to be a demigod in this book--for the first time in the original series, it really does.

-Not everything is fixed, not everyone is saved, and people start to have to make really tough decisions.

-So we fix it. Not by throwing Percy, or Annabeth, or Thalia, or, hell, even Bianca or Grover into the mix.

-Throwing the marginally more grown-up, more trained, and more knowledgeable demigods into the fire, who’d get everyone alive and safe by the third time ‘round? Nah.

-We’re making Nico fix this.

-Because here’s the thing about Nico di Angelo: Sure, he grows up to become a major badass, the Ghost King, so on and so forth. But not yet.

-For now, Nico is baby, a ten-year-old whose experience with any kind of fighting consists of one (1) Capture The Flag game and who’s still half-reliant on Mythomagic to explain what the fuck is happening.

-He’s also got the worst knowledge makeup possible! He knows he’s a son of Hades, which is bad, he knows to stick monsters with the pointy end of swords but nothing else, he knows that Percy Jackson and Thalia Grace are Very Big Deals (But also doesn’t know why beyond parents), and he’s, at best, vaguely aware that there’s some kind of bad prophecy hanging around.

-Also by the end of the book, he’s just been told his last immediate family who isn’t Hades is dead in one of the worst ways possible, and he--pretty irrationally IMO, but Nico’s a kid who has been through a lot recently, so we’re not holding that against him--blames Percy Jackson.

-Literally, you probably can’t pick an angstier or worse choice to run through the time travel trope. I love it.

-We’re making this kid save Bianca’s life via time loop, which happens due to. . .hmm, we’ll say the Fates did it.

-So, Loop 0 = Canon, only at the end of the day on December 21st, after the conversation with Percy, Nico falls asleep only gods know where only to wake up the day he meets Percy Jackson:

Loop 1:

-Nico doesn’t actually change anything meaningful at first.

-Spends most of it shellshocked and not unconvinced the last week (For him, anyway) wasn’t a horrible nightmare; shellshocked and staring at Percy Jackson, anyway.

-(Percy’s wondering what’s up with the silent kid his sister had talked up as a cheerful chatterbox)

-It’s only when Bianca agrees to join the quest for Artemis that he starts kicking up a fuss; demanding to go, screaming that she can’t leave him even more, not again.

-(Bianca hesitates; briefly, enough to remind Nico that she loves him. But she’s not their mother, and she needs this)

-Bianca still dies. Percy comes back pale and guilty. Nico doesn’t yell at him when he returns--he already knows. He accepts the Hades figurine so that he can throw it into the lake.

-He slinks off back into Cabin Eleven and falls asleep, hoping desperately that he gets a third chance.

Loop 2:

-He does.

Loop 3:

-After a very painful death at the hands of Dr. Thorn, Nico, generally being a straightforward person at this stage of life, takes the obvious path this time around: He tries to tell Bianca--who brushes it off as a dream.

-Annabeth still goes over the cliff when Nico takes the initiative of attaching himself and his sister to Percy Jackson and Thalia Grace at the dance. He tries to tell Percy and Thalia when Bianca still joins the Hunt, promising Nico that whatever he saw, she’ll be extra careful.

-(Bianca’s fearful of what Nico's saying, and thinks that if these sworn sisters can’t keep her safe, who can?)

-Artemis gives Nico a speculative look but agrees when he begs her to protect Bianca at all costs.

-He doesn’t get on the quest. Being a reasonable demigod of questionable parentage, he sneaks out of camp.

-He gets caught, because despite being aware of his awesome new powers, he doesn’t know how to use them, and is still a ten-year-old who can barely hold a sword the right way.

-He gives Percy the puppy dog eyes and shows off said awesome new powers. Percy forces him back.

-Nico follows him.

-Repeat until Percy dies saving Nico from the Nemean Lion in Washington, DC.

-Nico can’t find it in himself to be terribly sad--especially when he doesn’t make it much longer.

Loop 4:

-He’s really stuck like this, huh?

-Oh, Di Immortales.

-(Before Percy gets his chest ripped to shreds by a lion and Nico meets skeleton cats, he learned how to hold a sword properly and curse fluently in Greek. Percy probably only meant to teach him one of those things)

-In unrelated news: Having a big crush on a guy who thinks he’s only known you for a couple hours? Terrible.

-Trying to hate the guy who let your sister die when he’s that stupid and nice? Even worse.

-That stupid lion.

Loop 5, 6, 7, 8, 9:

-Nico repeats: That stupid lion.

-Somewhere in Loop 7 he starts to steal supplies out of the camp store when he follows Percy following the quest.

-They forcefeed the lion enough trail mix and frozen ice cream in Loop 9 that they don’t die this time.

-At least until someone called the General shows up and Nico’s dead before he can raise his sword.

Loop 10:

-Nico wakes up in his and Bianca’s room in Westover and starts crying. Bianca tells the headmaster they’re both sick and Nico lets her hold him all day.

-They fall asleep and Nico swears he won’t let her die again.

Loop 11, 12, 13:

-He wakes up and he still can’t get out of bed without feeling that blade cutting between his ribs, burning like it’s on fire.

-Gods, he’s so sorry, Bianca. Dispiace tanto.

Loop 14:

-He can get up without feeling like he’s about to die again. Bianca fusses but assumes it was just a bad dream.

-Nico is caught stealing and can’t follow Percy until it’s too late.

-Everyone assumes this means he’s a son of Hermes, however, and Nico can’t correct them without opening his mouth and letting the sobbing laughter out.

-Figuring he’s about to get another chance next round anyway, he takes Travis and Connor Stoll up on their offer to learn a thing or two so that he doesn’t get Cabin Eleven slapped with kitchen duty from now until Doomsday.

-He likes the Stolls. He spent most of the time, pre-looping, actively avoiding everyone at camp as he waited for Bianca and Percy to come back, but they’re not that bad.

-Percy comes back with the figurine and no sister and Nico remembers why he’s stuck.

Loop 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23:

-After Loop 12 and being killed in Washington DC again, Nico realizes: He needs to learn how to fight.

-Unless he gets killed early or refuses to leave Westover, the loop resets after seven days. So, he has seven days to train each time.

-He gets to camp, finds the arena, and meets Clarisse La Rue. He demands she teach him how to kill monsters.

-She laughs, and tells him that attitude in his size will make monsters easy to kill, they’ll laugh so hard.

-Clarisse teaches him how to swing a sword each time--but only after mocking his unamused face.

-Somehow, Percy coming back with news of Bianca’s death only hurts more each time.

Loop 24:

-Nico wakes up before Bianca this time. He looks over at her bed and knows. He’s got to try this time.

-It’s disturbingly easy making friends with Percy Jackson after the last loops.

-Bessie’s new. Cute, but new.

-Nico wonders just how much he’s missed in the past--he thinks of Annabeth Chase, and hopes she hasn’t been dying each time.

-Percy doesn’t even argue when Nico shows up in the stables with a bag slung over his shoulder, and the sword he’s been stealing out of the shed strapped to his hip.

-Nico suggests the ice cream--again--to Percy in DC before

-Nico might be getting the hang of this.

Loop 25:

-Nico is not getting the hang of this.

-Zoë Nightshade’s refusal to accept Percy and Nico on the quest--violating a prophecy, and gods, Nico’s curious if that prophecy ever mentioned this--has so far gotten them attacked and killed by spartoi once.

-And again. As Nico bleeds out on the floor, he watches a panicked blond man--a demigod--plead for mercy.

-Isn’t he on the other side?

Loop 26:

-His name is Luke Castellan and he apparently wants the gods dead.

-Nico can relate at this point.

-The General is Atlas, and Nico knows enough about Greek mythology, real and wrong, at this point to know that is bad.

Loop 27:

-Twenty-six tries, but they finally make it out of DC. Threatening the questers with Atlas killing them all is more than enough.

-For the first time, Nico doesn’t know what happens next. He glues himself to Bianca’s side and glares at anything suspicious.

-With help that Percy refuses to name, even when Nico tries his hardest, they go to New Mexico.

-There’s a boar and it’s so close, they make it to what the others are calling “the junkyard of the gods”.

-Nico sees the Hades figurine on the ground.

-Bianca grins in delight and picks it up, calling for him.

-He can’t help it.

-Nico starts screaming.

Loop 28:

-His sister’s murderer was never Percy Jackson.

-His sister’s murderer was a force of mechanics that makes Nico fully understand, for the first time, what the gods are, beyond stats on a card.

-Talos.

-Nico is going to destroy him.

Loop 29:

-She dies.

Loop 30:

-Again.

Loop 31:

-Again.

-Loop 32, 33, 34, 3536373839FortyFo r t y O n e--:

-Again. Again. Again. Again again againagainagainagainAGAIN--

Loop 42:

-Nico gets out of bed. He finds Percy Jackson at the dance, hugs him, and tells him he’s sorry.

-Nico walks outside and waits for Dr. Thorn in the snow. He can feel the shadows curling at the edge of the wood like a sixth sense, now. Waiting for him to summon the restless dead out of them.

-So many attempts to save his sister, ranging from sacrificing himself to sacrificing Percy--not that Percy needs the push, Nico has found--to any and all members of the quest.

-She dies. Always, always dies. Whatever Nico does, that junkyard is full of the death of Bianca di Angelo.

-He tried avoiding it. Once. Loop 33. Nico threw such a fit he’s surprised he wasn’t sent back to Camp Half-Blood by the Hunters, but it kept them out of the junkyard.

-He tries not to remember how little was left of his sister’s body by the monsters that time.

-Son of Hades. After all this time, Nico’s beginning to wonder if this is what it means. Death and death and death.

-Dr. Thorn walks outside, and Nico can feel a ghoulish grin crossing his face that has no place on a ten-year-old.

-One of them is going to die, this loop. And Nico will not go to New Mexico.

Loop 43:

-Nico wonders if there was a past life of his he needs to remember. Who could he have made this angry?

-He lies to Bianca and they stay in Westover again this time. Better than death, anyway.

Loop 44:

-Nico tries a different tack this time. A more roundabout way of things.

-He takes Bianca and throws the two of them in the way of the battle with the manticore.

-After all this time, he still doesn’t know much about Annabeth Chase. She gets kidnapped and returned safely to Percy every time, to the best of his knowledge.

-Nico dies holding up the sky, but at least Bianca lives, under the protection of Artemis.

Loop 45:

-Nico looks in the mirror and studies the new grey streak with fascination. And, maybe, some hope.

-Things can change.

Loop 46, 47, 48, 49, 50:

-Nico gets kidnapped a few times. Once, he’s killed in a rage by a Titan with horns, but it’s quick. Mostly, he holds up the sky to get Artemis out.

-She looks at him strangely each time and Nico wonders if she can see what he’s done.

Loop 51:

-They figure out he’s a son of Hades. They offer him Olympus. Olympus and Bessie--the Ophiotaurus, rather.

-Nico says no.

Loop 52:

-Nico says yes.

Loop 53:

-Being on the verge of overthrowing the gods and keeping everyone he’s grown to care for--in the case of several Hunters, against his will; in Percy Jackson’s case, Nico loves him as much as he hates him at this point--doesn’t do much, apparently.

-Nico stays in Westover again. He resists the urge to tell Bianca that would-be destroyers of Olympus don’t need to brush their hair, whatever she says.

Loop 54:

-Nico goes over the edge of the cliff again, but with Percy Jackson.

-This isn’t the first time; in Loop 46, Percy had taken the sky for both the sake of Artemis and Nico until it killed him.

-What’s different, is Nico’s in the middle of what’s become the usual panic attack when he’s about to die for the hundredth time, and his powers react.

-Percy holds him close and calls him cousin. Tells him he’ll never leave Nico.

-You have no idea, Nico whispers. You can’t leave me.

-You think I want to? Percy whispers back. You’re not alone, Nico.

-Nico’s sobbing sounds like laughter.

Loop 55:

-Nico tells Percy the truth for the third time. This is the first time he hasn’t told Bianca first.

-They’ve just found the Erymanthian Boar, Thalia’s told Nico his goth needs work--whatever that means--and Nico’s bracing himself for the junkyard again.

-Getting kidnapped by the Titans really gets old after a while.

-He still has the grey streak, and no number of excuses will fully soothe his sister, but the Hunt’s a good distraction from it.

-Nico doesn’t blame Bianca anymore for it. He thinks.

-Nearly a year into this loop and Nico’s finding it hard to blame anyone for much of anything, anymore. Especially when he sees what she’s faced. Again. And again.

-For now, this time, Percy Jackson is staring at Nico with wide eyes at what Nico’s told him--through these loops, Nico’s starting to wonder if he now knows more about Percy than Percy’s own best friends--and says he believes him.

-Once, Nico would’ve exploded from joy. Now, he just sighs and nods.

-Percy tells him how to condense the conversation for the next loop. He advises Nico to research Talos, “like Annabeth would.”

-He advises Nico to warn Percy’s next loop self about Annabeth’s kidnapping. Nico wonders if he’s gone insane that he’s considering it.

-Bianca dies.

Loop 56:

-Nico makes the executive decision this time to try and befriend Annabeth Chase. As such, he takes Percy’s advice.

Loop 57:

-It takes him two tries to befriend Annabeth Chase and learn about Talos.

Loop 58:

-Three times.

-But the nail. The nail in the ankle of Talos.

Loop 59:

-He hangs back at camp again this time and meets Charles Beckendorf, head of Cabin Nine, and son of Hephaestus.

-Nico figures that short of finding the god himself and committing temporary suicide--not that it hasn’t crossed Nico’s mind--his son will have to do.

-(He’s tried his hand at summoning ghosts, but Daedalus refuses to show, for some reason)

-Beckendorf frowns and tells Nico he would have to see Talos himself.

-Nico hadn’t realized just how much cursing he had picked up off of Percy and Thalia until that moment.

Loop 60:

-Nico knows what the prophecy says. One shall be lost in the land without rain.

-He knows it’s why he’s been failing so much.

-The trouble is, he no longer cares.

Loop 61:

-It took him a try, but he gets Beckendorf on the quest, prepared to defeat the Talos prototype.

Loop 62:

-Strike that, two tries.

-Nico really hates the Nemean Lion.

Loop 63, 64:

-Nico has solved half a problem: How to defeat Talos without putting someone inside the robot.

-The other half of the problem is now that they are all electrocuted by a dying automaton for their efforts.

Loop 65:

-Beckendorf’s crush--girlfriend? crush, they’re both insisting--Silena Beauregard comes along this time. Nico won’t complain over the extra manpower, even if he’s positive that eight campers and Hunters are patent overkill for one quest.

-Silena pulls Bianca out of the wreckage. Nico’s heart stops.

-Silena’s crying when she mentions that if they had been a bit earlier, she could have been revived.

-Nico wonders if Thalia’s going to stab him as he starts whooping. And takes notes about where Talos falls.

Loop 66:

-Nico swears, if Percy Jackson tries to sacrifice himself for Annabeth Chase one more time--

Loop 67:

-Bianca.

-I found you, he sobs. I found you.

-Gods damn the Hoover Dam.

Loop 68:

-And again.

-Despite having the distinct inkling at this point that he doesn’t much like like girls, Nico could kiss Silena Beauregard and Thalia Grace when they manage to revive his sister each time.

-She’s shaky and leaning on him and was dead, he could see her soul floating away--

-But she’s there.

-Nico refuses to let his sister out of the sight at the Hoover Dam and Percy befriends the Naiads this time.

-At least, until the Titans--who Nico made the very big mistake of taunting at DC--sends monsters he can’t control.

Loop 69, 70, 71, 72, 73:

-They keep dying in various combinations at the Hoover Dam now that Nico’s figured out how to save Bianca.

-At least, until he gets separated from Percy in Loop 73 and he meets a redheaded girl with a penchant for calling Nico pint-size.

-Athena dislikes Percy, Nico, Bianca, and Thalia in equal measure. Having learned of the Great Prophecy in Loop 16 and Percy’s mooning over Annabeth in. . .well, every loop, Nico can’t quite blame her.

Loop 74:

-Her name is Rachel Elizabeth Dare and Nico likes her. She takes none of their shit and if it weren’t for the fact that they already have eight people on the quest, he’d want to take her along.

-Bianca gets in a fight with the Old Man of the Sea. Thalia electrocutes him when he throws Bianca in the bay.

Loop 75:

-Nico wakes up in Westover with the distinct feeling that he was drowned on dry land.

-He stays in bed shivering, that day.

Loop 76:

-Atlas is the father of Zoë Nightshade. Nico learned this around Loop 50. He had realized around five loops ago that this probably meant she was going to die “by a parent’s hand.”

-He hadn’t realized that it was going to hurt to watch.

Loop 77, 78, 79, 80, 81:

-Now that he’s figured things out to about San Francisco, it seems the world is out to get him. The number of fights or mistakes that he either makes himself or has to head off are ridiculous.

Loop 82:

-Nico is so very tired. And wishes he felt ten years old again.

Loop 83:

-If Thalia gets in one more fight with Nereus, Nico's going to walk into the sea.

Loop 84:

-He wanders off, in this one. Grover had been killed in Hoover Dam, so Nico’s waiting for the reset at this point.

-In the meantime, Nico figures there are worse things to do than enjoy a good afternoon in San Francisco. He even meets a boy in a purple shirt.

-His name is Jason and he has hair like the sun.

-If he ever fixes this, Nico wants to find him.

Loop 85:

-Nico’s not fast enough in the junkyard.

-In San Francisco, he tries to find the ugliest, biggest trouble he can find.

-He finds a pair of teenagers in armor who yell Latin at him instead.

Loop 86:

-There’s a dragon that will attack them in the Garden of the Hesperides if they make it angry enough and Nico is so tired.

Loop 87:

- Zoë Nightshade is dead. They’ve won.

-Funny definition of “win”, considering they’ve all almost died this loop about a dozen times each, and Nico can’t explain why he’s crying on the body of a Hunter he only met a week ago, in their eyes.

-She hates him, some loops. More loops, she looks at him with ghosts of old grief in her eyes and hands him a knife.

-The gods execute Bessie, and then, Nico watches as his father turns to him and Bianca with sorrowful eyes.

-Nico should’ve figured, after almost ninety loops.

Loop 88:

-Luke offers one of them the entrails of Bessie again.

-Nico takes them.

Loop 89:

-For all the good it does. Nico wakes up as he does every time now: Powerless, in bed, and with only a grey streak to show for his efforts.

Loop 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98:

-Nico doesn’t know how to save Zoë Nightshade. Bianca, he could trick and fight his way into it. Beckendorf and Silena and Percy and a loophole in lost could save his sister.

-Her, she just. . .dies. Sometimes in DC, sometimes in San Francisco, sometimes on the hills of Mt. Tamalpais. Always at the hands of Atlas.

-Always, being murdered by her father.

-It’s not as gutting as watching his sister die, but it aches more in his chest, somehow.

Loop 99:

-He sticks close to Zoë this time. Same as he’s done with Percy, Annabeth, his sister, Thalia, and Grover, time and time again. But not her, Nico is realizing. Not the clinging he’s achieving now.

-Hoping for. . .something.

-He knows better than to tell the immortal Lieutenant of Artemis the whole truth. The loneliness is enough.

-She’s less frosty to him from the start than to, say, Grover or Percy, after Annabeth goes over the cliff again. When he shows up in DC, she’s much less angry than he’s seen her.

-Along the way to New Mexico and then San Francisco, he listens. He’s grown better at it, this far in. When the others are asleep, when Bianca is being fussed over after Talos, when everyone but them is asleep by the fire, he listens.

-And she tells him about her sisters. About her father, when the world was young and Atlas had looked on every daughter of his with pride. She tells him, pride glistening in her eyes, of the battles she has seen, the hunts she has overseen at the command of a goddess, the monsters she has killed, and the epithets she has been given.

-He doesn’t ask anything of her. Not until they’re in the house of Annabeth’s father, drinking lemonade the night before the battle, and Nico knows she is about to die again.

-What do you want, he asks. You’ve done everything. What’s left?

-She stopped, ice seems to creep over her again, and Nico wondered if he’d hit some sore spot.

-He’s opened his mouth to make his apologies when she answers, so quiet and quick he thinks he’s imagined it.

-To be remembered. When my lady has taken another lieutenant, as she must, and I have gone to where all gods go when they die, I wish for my memory to remain. And. . .

-Nico waits, and ignores the sudden, terrifying thought that he no longer knows what he wants.

-I wish to see the stars again. I was born a nymph of the sunset; starlight is precious to me. I want to see it again.

-Nico dies to preserve the memory of Zoë Nightshade.

100:

-Nico di Angelo wakes up in Westover Hall. He hopes for the last time.

-He does everything right: Annabeth goes over the cliff, his sister joins the Hunt, Percy is soon his friend, and he convinces Silena and Beckendorf to join the quest.

-The Nemean Lion never stands a chance, and Nico is glad to be rid of it.

-His sister lives.

-Nico watches Percy watch Rachel Elizabeth Dare go, looking like he’s just taken a frying pan to the face, and fights the urge to snicker.

-Thalia doesn’t start a fight with Nereus, but Percy certainly does. Nico could’ve sworn he saw the boy with sun-hair again, watching with curiosity.

- Zoë Nightshade dies in the arms of Artemis and is made into the stars she loves so dearly. Nico promises her soul that he will remember.

-For, he has found, the dead have a tendency of remembering things they shouldn’t.

-Annabeth and Percy now have grey streaks to match Nico’s, and Nico can’t wait to spend the rest of his life trying to explain that.

-It’s closer than he would like, but much less close than other lives with Olympus. The Ophiotaurus is alive and safe, and they are all alive.

-As Nico walks out of the council, he looks off to the side. By the fire is the familiar girl with red eyes--the Lady Hestia, looking much closer to Nico’s age than that of the Olympian she is.

-Besides her are three old ladies. Nico’s heard about them from Percy, in Loops 26, 53, 61, and 62.

-One lady holds a ball of string that is the color of a warm umber. The other is knitting what looked suspicious like socks. The last. . .

-Scissors, in one hand. Just as expected. Nico swallowed.

-In the other, was a knot of burnt string, tied to the socks. Behind her, Nico could see discarded string of all colors: an electric blue, a stormy grey, a black that seems to glisten with the promise of a storm, string the soft, hopeful pink of love, yarn run through with bright copper.

-Glowing threads that Nico could only describe as the color of starlight.

-As he walked out, firmly between Percy Jackson and Thalia Grace, the Hunt of Artemis behind him, Nico hears one last promise:

It is done, Nico di Angelo.

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

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Basic Instincts Part 12- Day Off

18+ Hawks x fem!pro hero reader

Summary: Hawks was your first friend, your first kiss, and your first love. You were the same for him. But you’re not little commission trainees anymore, you’re full fledged pro-heroes now with all the baggage and sacrifice that entails. Things are different now, and when the two of you end up accidentally mated, well… they’re about to get even more different.

Masterlist Help Lulu <3

You toss your phone to the side with a sigh, happy to have at least one thing handled. You have faith that Tamaki and Tokoyami will keep your secret at least. The door to your bathroom opens and out emerges Keigo, now clad in sweats and an old shirt he’d had to rip the back out of to accommodate his wings. Steam billows out after him as he finishes drying his hair before having one of his feathers carry the towel back into the bathroom to be left with the rest of your laundry. He flops onto his back on the bed, wings splayed, before shifting to move his head into your lap. Your hand immediately moves to comb through his feathery locks. Funny how some habits never die. “How’re you feeling?” you ask. “Better. Head still hurts but nothing I can’t handle,” he replies, his eyes fluttering shut in contentment as he leans into your touch. “You know this isn’t sustainable right? We won’t be able to hide a mate bond from the commission forever, especially if we have to contend with separation sickness,” you point out. “I know. We’ll have to figure out a way to break the bond,” Keigo agrees. “On top of figuring out what the Liberation Front is up to,” you sigh, biting your lip nervously. “Hey none of that,” he chides as he shifts so his head is no longer in your lap. “C’mere,” he commands, reaching out to you. You roll your eyes but comply easily, allowing him to pull you into his chest. “When’s the last time we had a day off?” he asks. “Never,” you reply. “When’s the next time you were planning to take a day off?” “I’d take a day off if I needed it!” “No, you wouldn’t.” “How do you know?” “Because you’re just like me.”

He’s not wrong.

“Ok what do you suppose we do then?” you ask. “I say we order takeout and have a lazy night in,” he declares. “You know we’re just going to end up working at the end of the night anyway,” you point out, an amused smile slipping onto your face. “Yea probably, but we can at least try to be normal people just this once right?” “Yea... you’re right. Fuck it why not.”

And that’s how you found yourself grabbing as many blankets and pillows as you own and dragging them into the living room. You assign Keigo nest duty, a job he eagerly accepts even if he plays off his excitement. In the mean time you head to the kitchen in search of tea and take out menus. You find a menu for a yakitori place and decide to order from them while you get the hot water going. By the time you return to the living room, two mugs in hand, the couch has been pushed back in favor of a massive puddle of blankets in front of the tv with plenty of pillows distributed throughout. You also realize Keigo had somehow stumbled on your collection of plushies when you notice your cartoon-y stuffed plague doctor and ghosts have been distributed around as well. One plushie is still in his hand though and it makes you stop short.

Keigo is glaring daggers at the Deku plushie in his hand. You’re surprised the damn thing doesn’t combust under the force of his anger. “Why do you have this?” he asks, his hand starting to clench around the poor stuffed doll. “Kei are you.... jealous? Of a doll??” you ask incredulously. “No! I’m just wondering what’s so special about Deku,” he pouts. “Oh my god,” you groan as you move to the center of the nest so you can at least set the mugs down. “What? I can’t help but notice you don’t have plushies of any other pro heroes,” he argues. “Ok first of all,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, “it’s not even mine. I hold onto it for a friend. And second, if you must know, the only pro hero merch I have is actually a Hawks hoodie.” All traces of his prior jealousy disappear as he looks at you in wonder. “Really?” “Yea, it’s old though, from your first ever merch drop,” you admit, getting slightly self conscious now. He stares at you and you can tell there’s something he wants to ask. As if reading his mind you sigh “you want me to go put it on don’t you?” “Yes very much so please.”

You return in the hoodie made to look like the jacket and shirt of his hero costume, scarlet wings printed on the back to complete the look. “Happy?” you ask and the soft grin he gives you in response makes your heart flip in your chest. “Very. Now come over,” he smiles. You roll your eyes but listen anyway, coming to join him in the little blanket nest and accepting your mug of tea when he offers it. He flips the tv on as you settle against his chest but then a thought occurs to him again. “Wait if the Deku toy isn’t yours, whose is it?” he asks and you groan. “Can we drop it about the stupid plushie?” “No, now I’m curious.” “If I say you’ll be mad....” “No I won’t.” “You will.” “Just tell me!” “It’s Stain’s.”

You can practically hear Keigo’s brain short circuit.

“Did you just say Stain?”

“Yes...”

“As in hero killer Stain?”

“Yes.”

“The one who died after the attack on Hosu City.”

“I don’t know how else to confirm to you that you’re indeed thinking of the right person.”

“I have so many questions,” he sighs. You know you probably shouldn’t but you can’t help but joke “He’s my emotional support villain.” “He murdered several pro heroes in his supposed quest for justice,” Hawks points out. “Yes and I’m not saying that was ok but you have to admit he had a point about the commodification of heroism, although I think the fact the HPSC is run like a Fortune 500 company is more at fault than heroes themselves. He’s interesting to debate with and after meeting Deku and watching Ingenium ‘reform’ himself or whatever, I think Akaguro realized it’s the system he should’ve been targeting and not the people themselves,” you explain. “Oh my god you two are on last name basis?” Hawks asks exasperatedly. “Like I said, emotional support villain. I don’t know I just kinda wish there’d been a way to reform him and turn him into a hero or at least not a villain while he was still alive. You know?” you shrug. Keigo thinks of Twice, of the tutoring sessions he gave him, of his loyalty, and of his final moments. “Yea I know what you mean,” he concedes, pulling you a little bit closer. You can sense the shift in Keigo’s mood immediately so you squeeze his arms where they’re wrapped around you in a show of support. You decide to lighten the mood so you pipe up “You’re not going to ask why Stain has a Deku plushie?”

“Wait, yea what the fuck?”

“I bought it for him for his birthday and called him a fanboy. He stopped talking to me for a week.”

Keigo absolutely fucking cackles at that and it should be the most unattractive thing you’ve ever seen but you love it.

Always have, always will.

A/N: I know Stain didn’t actually die after saving Midoriya in Hosu but also I had forgotten he didn’t die until I looked up his wiki page to get his name and the name of Hosu City and by then I was already too married to the idea to change it lmao. This is a sillier chapter but I felt like it was needed after last chapter was pretty intense

Taglist: @oliviasslut @theycallme-becky @vibesdontlie @superhermit @thechroniclesofawriter

#hopelessbi #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks smau #hawks x y/n #hawks x fem!reader

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tabarnaks · 3 years

Note

would love to hear your thoughts on the "my name isn't goddamn arthur" scene, king

I’m gonna preface this with I don’t think Arthur could be considered Static man’s “deadname” and Nick is not deadnaming him by calling him Arthur. Static man’s story is not a trans narrative and making it out to be one is not a particularly good thing to do.

And also just generally speaking i don’t think accusing Nicholas of deadnaming and then shipping him with the guy he's supposedly deadnaming is very logical.

So anyway, in the 2nd of lotd, Nicholas calls static man Arthur in two scenes. The first is when they find the weird trucker place that's not part of the ritual and Static man insists they leave at which point this happens:

TRUCKER: Thank you, Static Man. For what it’s worth. You should still go back to where you came from, but thank you for this.

STATIC MAN: You’re welcome.

NICHOLAS: Glad to see you’ve made a friend, Arthur. Come on, back to the car

Which is like, you know, pretty shitty of Nick because he’s using it bitterly after Static Man insists they leave the place alone. And it's like a moment where it's just. Okay so he’s using it intentionally to hurt Static Man, as a sort of weapon against him. which. unbelievably shitty of him.

And then, the gas station scene happens where 1. he says it when Static Man isn’t around to hear him and 2. Just, extremely reflexively. Like:

THE CLERK: You should check on your servant.

NICHOLAS: Excuse me?

THE CLERK: He’s killing something in the parking lot.

NICHOLAS: What?

SFX: Turning, Nicholas starts to run

NICHOLAS: Damnit, Arthur

And then continuing it when he’s talking to Static Man:

NICHOLAS: Arthur! Who was that? Why did you kill… whatever that thing was?

STATIC MAN: [exhausted breathing]

NICHOLAS: Answer me, Arthur!

STATIC MAN: My name isn’t goddamn Arthur.

NICHOLAS: That’s not the… alright then, Static Man, why did you reduce that thing to small, bloody chunks?

And the delivery on these, convinces me that it’s entirely a reflexive thing. Nicholas thinks of Static Man as Arthur, because, well, it’s an actual name and not a descriptor that was assigned to him that he accepted due to what I would generously call a complicated relationship with his humanity due to his current form.

I just think that the use of his name is very telling on the nature of their relationship, especially on how Nick views Static Man. We know that, despite Dan’s warning, he’s decided to stick with Static Man for two reasons: A sense of obligation and curiosity.

(s3 ep10)

NICHOLAS: I’m not going to burn my ritual book and I do not intend to stop performing rituals. I promised Static Man I would find him a body, and I intend to keep that promise.

DAN: Nicholas… I listened to those tapes, I know he’s your friend, but that… thing murdered a lot of people.

NICHOLAS: He saved my life and the life of my sister. I am going to fulfill my obligation. And… I started down this path because I was curious. I have not stopped being curious.

DAN: Please. Listen to me. I have waited… so long… just to be normal again. Just to have one second where the world felt real and solid. Don’t throw that opportunity away. Doing these things, being a part of these kinds of stories, even by listening… it’s not a good idea. It changes you in ways that you aren’t prepared for.

NICHOLAS: I will not be content with pretending that the world is the way I thought it was.

But, after his conversation with Dan, he’s still left with the question of ‘Is Static Man still human, or has he lost so much of his humanity that even with a human body he’ll still be a monster?’

A question Nicholas has obviously answered with yes, he’s still human. Which is where Static Man’s name comes in.

Static Man's rejection of the name Arthur is a pretty obvious extension of his rejection of his current form as himself, as a human being. He’s not a human being because he’s a mass of static and teeth that can tear people to literal shreds in seconds, so he’s not Arthur, he's Static Man.

So we’re left with a situation where Static Man, on one hand, is in a position with his (lack of) body where he cannot see himself as a human being again until he has a body, and therefore isn’t really Arthur. And, on the other hand, we have Nick who has to believe Static Man is still human now otherwise this whole quest is for nothing, because Static Man will have been changed too much to readapt, and therefore he must be Arthur.

So we end up with Nick thinking of Static Man as Arthur, despite what Static Man’s current wishes are. And this is definitely a mixed bag. Like in the first scene I mentioned, Nick isn’t really using the name as something to ‘subtly’ remind Static Man of his humanity, but more like a weapon against him. A jab meant to sting when he’s been denied knowledge due to Static Man’s refusal to move forward. Which, you know, NOT GREAT!

But then we have the gas station scene, where, as I’ve said, it slips out naturally, without Static Man even being there to hear it. And, it slips out in a moment where Static Man is arguably at his least human : having literally just ripped something to “small bloody chunks” in a few seconds. Which I think is very telling of how Nick thinks about Static Man. In a somewhat controlled environment where he’s at least not taken off guard like the Trucker scene, he doesn’t really hesitate to use Static Man’s name as petty revenge. But, when he’s taken off guard, it slips out just as easily in a moment to reaffirm Static Man’s humanity even when he very clearly does not want to hear it right then.

And I think it’s that that really gets to me about the scene. We’ve seen how Nicholas thinks, how he’s not really that great a person, but we see then that when it comes down it, he still thinks of Static Man, the person who saved his and his sister’s lives, the person he has an obligation to and has just spent the last 2 years trying to find a body for, as a human being trapped in horrible circumstances, rather than a monster who can and has murdered countless people at this point.

Tldr i just think its nice :)

#thats it thats all my thoughts :)#a81 #Anonymous #archive 81

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jonthethinker · 4 years

Text

I imagine that, for most of her life, Beauregard Lionett has been the living embodiment of a clenched fist.

The life she could have had, had her father not been the man he was, had he not lay the full weight of his expectation and vision and above all paranoia on the slender shoulders of his only daughter, is a question worth exploring. Beau in the present is full of energy and always craves activity and stimulus, and it’s not hard to imagine that’s how she was as a child; many a grass-stained dress, I’m sure, and I tend to think she was the sort of kid to dig holes just to see what she could find, curiosity unbounded even at an early age.

If her energy had been redirected instead of squashed, if her curiosity had been rewarded instead of reprimanded, if her cleverness had been sharpened instead of scolded, Beauregard Lionett may have been on the path to become the most renown vintner in all of Wildemount. But instead what her future held in store for her was white knuckles.

The picture painted by the wonderful Marisha Ray of the life of Young Beau is one of a desperate fight for agency, and denial and defeat in this quest at every turn. With her bright mind, she attempts to create a new path for the family brand to take, but is rejected outright by her father. So what does Beau do in response? In typical Beau fashion, she says fuck you and begins to bootleg the family wine right under her father’s nose. I think this was in part to obviously get one over on her father, but also to prove to herself that she could in fact sell the wine better. This is a feature of Beau’s personality that pops up over and over; her need to prove to herself and others her own value. I have no doubt that Young Beau tried so hard to impress her contacts in the small world of underground wine bootlegging, just to get some sort of validation or affirmation, and no doubt that this was used against her again and again, her nails digging ever deeper into her palms.

Of course her father finds out, and she is cast away; exasperated that his daughter isn’t planted firmly under his thumb like any good heir would be, he ships her off to the Cobalt Soul, where perhaps they can teach her some discipline, all the while believing that it was her that failed him and not the other way around.

In some respect, no crueler fate could have been bestowed on Beau than to end up at the Cobalt Soul, and I’ll explain why. Beau at her core is a bright, energetic, curious person. If Beau had been given the actual choice to go to the Cobalt Soul of her own will on the onset of her teenage years she would have jumped at the chance. Learning and fighting and exploring are the sort of thing Young Beau would have loved. But she is forced to go, after being ostensibly disowned by her family, all the while knowing that to all her potential mentors, the label of Problem Child is dangling from her neck; she was not sent there as a budding mind to be fostered and cultivated, but as a problem to be solved.

She pays attention to her classes, but she can’t afford to show any enthusiasm, or else she’s admitting defeat; Beau always loses on her own term, and at this point she was very used to losing. The tension in her shoulders builds and builds as she contemplates how poorly all the monks must think of her, her behavior getting worse and worse just so she has some sort control over her life; she can’t help but be the chained up dog she is, but goddammit you’re going to know she’s there. That she can do. And finally the thrashing against the chain causes it to break, and she realizes she can leave, and so she bolts, and doesn’t stop running until she slams full speed into the Mighty Nein.

Beau is my favorite character for many reasons, but a big one is that she plays into the archetype of “Character Who Cares So Much But Can’t Afford To Show It”, only matched in my heart by “Character Who Can’t Even Begin To Hide How Much They Care”, ironically also played to by Marisha Ray in the form of Keyleth.

From the moment we meet her in the tavern with Jester and Fjord, it is clear upon reflection that she already cares so much. She stuck to those two like peanut butter on bread almost immediately, and it becomes very clear when you discover how afraid she was that they were going to leave her behind. For her entire life, all Beau wanted to be was acknowledged and accepted, to not be so goddamn alone all the time. And here was her chance to have that, and so she held on like her life depended on it. In some ways, it did.

I don’t think the tightness of her spiritual fists really loosened until Nicodranas. Before that the Doubt was always there that the rest of the Nein would come to grips with how much of a problem she really was and get rid of her, and who could blame them in her eyes; she was just someone who didn’t fit, and that was her fate. But they didn’t. As time went by they just seem to pull her closer. And then the Iron Shepards happened, and that’s when she knew for sure; she loved these people, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for them.

And then... Mollymauk dies, and it forces Beau to reckon with the ugly bitterness she had allowed to consume her mind, and that she had more options than breaking. She could be a builder. She could build something good. With the Mighty Nein by her side, she could do anything, even be good. They arrive at that beach in Nicodranas, the grief of losing Molly easing on her heart, and for the first time in her entire life, she feels safe, lightness replacing her usual heaviness, her shoulders relieved of their usual tension, and finally she can, for a moment or two, go to that place in her mind the Monks always talked about.

But after a long period of security, her hands form that familiar shape again at the prospect of her worst fear coming to fruition; slowly losing the Nein. Nott was going to get her body back, and was possibly going to go back to her family. Which makes sense; it’s why she is here in the first place. But it reintroduces the idea that the family she’s built for herself could slowly come apart as each of its members finish their quest and find their place. But the Nein is Beau’s quest, it is her place.

Suddenly they’re back in Kamordah, and her old wounds seem to get torn back open all at once, and Beau loses her footing, spiritual eyes clenched, shoulders tight, and fists balled up, bracing herself for what surely had to follow. They meet the Hag, an awful creature who preys on misery, who was feeding on Nott, Beau’s chosen sister, and she wanted a deal to free her, to replace misery with misery. And things began to click into to place. This is what this was all building up to, wasn’t it? This is what it was all for. Molly was there to teach her that she could do good, and here was her chance. All it would cost is everything. Everything she never deserved. She was going to go back to losing on her terms, just as it should have always been.

One unexpected Cupcake later, and that idea of martyrdom is entirely thrown out the window. This is the part of the movie where the record scratches. This was not at all how things are supposed to go. Things were supposed to fall apart. And now the newly returned Veth has her doubts about putting the Adventurer’s Life behind her. And Cad’s family is saved and home restored and he’s decided to stick around anyway. WHAT IS GOING ON?!! Here Beau was matching the pairs in hand thinking she was playing Poker only to be playing Uno all along.

I have no idea where Beau’s head is right now, but she seems to be sliding back into the Beau we’re so proud of. I don’t know if this is just the calm before Marisha rips all of our hearts out, or if Beau has just decided to enjoy the Mighty Nein for what it is while she has it. But I know her knuckles have some color again, and for that I’m grateful.

#Critical Role #Beauregard #Beauregard Lionett #cr spoilers #the mighty nein #Marisha Ray #long post

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eunoiaflow3r · 3 years

Text

when worlds collide - h.p. x gn!avenger!reader

a/n: bahahahahaha no one reads harry x reader lmaoo you don’t have to tell me - i know. but still, i thought this was a cute idea and i went with it. hope you enjoy :)

not edited.

also: timelines don’t match up bc i don’t want to do the math so harry is like 20 - 21 and your like 19 - 20 in 2020. Civil War and everything on didn’t happen. Fred didn’t die.

gn = gender neutral

warning(s): “language!” - captain america.

word count: 3.1k

request(ed): no.

summary: stephen sends y/n to a strange new place with...wizards?

————————————-&—————————————

Never doubt Stephen Strange. That's something that pretty much everyone has accepted. Never second guess the wizard man. Usually you'd agree. Usually you'd just let the man babble about whatever he needed to and then go about your day.

Not now.

The fuckery.

Now you were here (wherever here was) after some flashes of orange and a "be careful." Did he even do the spell right? Is this really where you were supposed to be?

It was dark, and dirty and you just wanted to go home and not talk to anyone so you turned yourself invisible.

You were born with your powers - you think. You were adopted so you wouldn't know where your powers came from. All you know is that one day your parents couldn't find you, even though you were right there. Instead of thinking you were some kind of alien and throwing you out to labs, they helped you control it the best you could.

It was difficult at first, all things considered, but you got through. You discovered you had another power as well. Force fields. Those came in handy during the battles. (You helped where you could), and Tony Stark took you in afterwards as his own. He helped you create your suit, and your name, and discover more about your powers, he was basically a dad to you.

Your parents were a little hesitant letting you join the Avengers, but once they realized this is what you were meant to do, and you had people just like you protecting you, they couldn't keep you from that. They just couldn't.

So here you were, invisible, in some dark and creepy alley. There were doors either side of you, so you got out of the way considering they could open and smack you in the face at any given moment. You heard loud voices and laughing and cheering from both ends of the alley so you walked towards the one in front of you.

The voices were so loud and echoey that you really couldn't focus on anything else. Maybe that's why you didn't hear a boy behind you trip and fall into you from behind.

"I'm so sorry." he said helping you up.

You turned around to help him, he got awfully dirty, and searched for his glasses that fell off his face.

Once standing, he took out a stick, waved it over him, and all of a sudden the dirt and gravel was gone.

"How did you do that?" You were no stranger to magic, but this was something you've never seen before. And why would he do it in front of you? For all he knew, you were an unknowing human.

"What?" He asked eyebrows furrowed together, accent strong.

"With the stick."

He chuckled shoving the stick back in his cloak.

"The stick." He smiled and looked you up and down. "It's a wand. You must not be from around here."

"Yeah, what tipped you off?" You noticed the lightning bolt scar on his head. You wondered how he got it.

"The accent, the clothes, the inability to recognize a simple wand, the ability to be here, not recognizing me, and wait - where is your cloak?"

"Cloak?"

"You were just invisible a moment earlier but I don't see your cloak anywhere."

"I don't have one. I can make myself invisible without a piece of fabric or your fancy stick." You say sarcastically. Were you flirting?

"Handy." He grins. "The name's Harry Potter."

He holds his hand out for you to shake. "Y/N L/N."

He asks you if you want to talk somewhere besides a dark dirty alley. You agreed. It took some convincing though to let him use his stick to clean the clothes you had on, but to change your outfit to something less, standout-ish.

When you felt the witch hat on your head you immediately snatched it off your head and glared at him.

He just laughed.

Once out of the alley, you breathed in the now clean air, and was mesmerized. People were bustling in and out of small shops, animals were flying and chirping around their owners, children were running around with their friends and siblings, and people were waving sticks, or wands, just like Harry used.

"C'mon, this way." He smiled at your awestruck face. It reminded him of when he first arrived with Hagrid all those years ago.

He brought you inside a coffee shop, and sat you at a booth near the window knowing you'd probably want to still look outside at the new scenes.

After ordering, and a few moments of silence as you looked around, you decided to ask some questions.

"Where am I?"

"We're in Diagon Alley. It's like an outside mall."

"I mean like, planet? I guess?"

"Earth."

"Earth?"

"Well, more specifically London. Diagon Alley."

"London?! I'm in London?!"

"You've never been? To Earth? Or London?"

You rolled your eyes silently cursing Strange. "I'm from Earth. The United States, actually. I just wish he'd put me on a fucking plane or something instead of making it seem like I was going to Mars."

"He?" Harry was very curious.

You looked into his green eyes, your mind wandering. The guy in front of you was very attractive. His dark hair complimented his eyes, and his glasses made him even more attractive.

"You guys are wizards right?"

"Really? What gave you that impression?" He asks sarcastically. "The sticks, the pointy hats, or the big bowl with green liquid sitting outside?”

You rolled your eyes. "Very funny. It's not my fault you live into the stereotype of brewing potions in your cauldrons -"

"Oh well I can only assume you're one of those Avengers from the States, yeah?" He grins. "You guys are all over the news."

"Yes, sure -"

"And don't one of you wear capes and another shoot lasers or lightning or whatnot? Sounds very stereotypical to me."

You laugh as the waitress brings over your drinks and muffins. You thank her. "No, well yes, that's Strange and Thor, but that's besides the point -"

"Well of course it's strange." He grins and winks and you over his mug. He was purposely annoying you and found great joy in it.

"Anyway," you sigh getting back to the point. "Do you guys have a Wizard here, like a powerful, trusting, all-knowing kind of guy?"

His eyes dropped slowly and his smile dimmed for a moment before slowly widening once again.

"Had. His name was Dumbledore."

"Our guy is Stephen Strange. Or Dr. Strange. He sent me here, and I'm not sure why."

"Hmmm." He hums setting down his mug. "Are the states in danger? Were you sent here on a secret quest that would put you through tough trials that would risk your life but would ultimately save everyone you've ever loved so you just have to do it?"

You were in a silent shock. "Uhm. No, not that I'm aware of, no."

"Well then perhaps your Wizard Strange is playing matchmaker."

"Matchmaker?"

"Well you were sent here weren't you?" You nod. "Arrived outside the exact place where I was and I just happened to bump into you? Sounds like a set-up to me."

"Or a coincidence."

"I'd like to think it was fate that I bump into the most attractive person I've ever seen and they don't know who I am and won't judge me 'cause of my past." He took a bite of his muffin.

"Should I be worried?"

"I guess you'll have to figure that out yourself." He winks.

You decide to eat your muffin as well. It was a comfortable silence until you looked out of the window and noticed a guy crouching down behind a cauldron...with a camera.

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"Why is there a man outside taking pictures of you?"

His eyes widened. "Oh shit." He whispered. "Here." He took out a baseball cap and put it over your head, hiding your face from the camera.

He gets out of his seat quickly pulling you along with him to the back of the shop but before you could say anything he had his wand pulled out.

Next thing you saw was a couch and living room.

"Wow." You panted. "What a way to bring a girl home."

"I apologise Y/N, I block them out so much I forget they're even there and now they've seen you, and have a story and -"

"Wait, wait, wait, are you wanted for murder or something?"

Harry walks over to his bookshelf and pulls out a rather large book. After opening up on the table, he waved his wand over it and beckons you over to read it.

'Boy who lived.'

'Golden boy defeats Voldemort'

'winner of Triwizard tournament'

And there was so much more… 'Harry Potter' in bold just strewn across the pages. His whole life story.

Your eyes widen at everything. "So both and neither. War hero. How come I've never heard of you? Or any of this?"

He smiles at the pages fondly, running his fingers across the letters and reminiscing on his times at Hogwarts.

"Unlike you Avengers, we like to keep our business private and quiet. We don't like prying eyes."

You scoff. "Not our fault we have alien invasions every year."

Harry agreed and for the rest of the night you sat on his couch talking and sometimes arguing, over every little thing. It felt like you two had known each other forever.

You're not sure when, but you fell asleep there and woke with your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around your waist. You're not sure how the two of you ended up this way, and you realized you were practically strangers, but you didn't want to move. You just wanted to tangle your fingers through his dark hair.

But you didn't. Instead you stared at his closed eyes, and focused on his long, dark, eyelashes that fluttered a little from time to time. You thought about how you could get used to this. Waking up with his arm wrapped around you.

You told him last night that if he was actually a serial killer, and wanted to kill you that you had a whole team of people who would rip him limb from limb. He had no doubts and looked actually scared of your threat.

You thought about what it'd be like to live here among people like you.

Stomach grumbling, you decided to get up and see if he had anything you could make for him. It's the least you could do. His face turned when you left his arms, but you quickly pulled the blanket over him so he would be able to sleep a little longer.

You found his bathroom, and washed your face. In your backpack was a toothbrush and some toothpaste so you brushed your teeth, fixed your hair, and got dressed.

By the time you got out of the bathroom, you noticed Harry was still sleeping so you went into the kitchen and tried to find anything remotely close to breakfast foods. By the look of his inventory, you could tell he was very good at cooking but hadn’t been to the store in a while. He did have some eggs and toast though so you decided to make that.

In the middle of it, you got a phone call from Strange.

“Strange?”

“Harry Potter.” he says.

“What?” you were so confused as to how Stephen knew ANYTHING.

“You’re in his place, we've been tracking you.”

“So I guess we should probably have a talk about privacy? I don’t know, it just seems like something we should discuss you know? Cause usually people can respect that - especially people who just DUMP you here in the first place -“

“Calm down that’s what the mission was. While you were sleeping, we searched the place with a camera we put on you and he’s not who we thought he was. You completed the mission L/N. Great job.”

“Is he a danger?”

“Not necessarily. Just making sure your fine is all.”

“What -?”

He hung up.

Why wouldn’t Strange tell you his intentions? Why would he let you stay here if he thought Harry might have been a bad guy? Why would he risk that?

Right as you hung up Harry Potter walked into the kitchen with his lenses in between his shirt - he was cleaning his glasses.

His dark hair hung over his eyes but his eyebrows were raised.

“You made breakfast?”

“It was the least I could do. I didn’t mean to fall asleep but thank you for letting me stay.”

He smiled and put his glasses back on. In doing so his gray shirt lifted and you could see his abs. You turned away a blushed.

“It was no big deal. Thank you for making breakfast, love. You didn’t have to.”

You didn’t say anything and instead placed both of your finished plates on the dining room table. He followed you and sat down immediately digging in.

“These are the best eggs i’ve ever eaten Y/N thank you.”

You smiled in response but then frowned remembering your conversation with Strange. You should probably tell Harry.

“So,” you cleared your throat. “You were wrong.”

He gave you a look that meant “about?”

“Dr. Strange - the wizard I work with - he likes to check out potential threats and make sure that ya’know - the earth stays safe and everything. Je can kind of see the future and its propabilities. He did the same thing with Thor and his brother Loki.”

“Okay, go on.”

You cringed. “And so he called me and told me that he sent me here so he could see you? I don’t know I guess he saw you as a threat and wanted to make sure you weren’t.”

You looked at Harry but his face was clear of any and every emotion. He just continued to eat his eggs. It was silent.

You ate a bit at your eggs too until he spoke up which made you look up.

“I can’t say I’m very surprised honestly. With everything you guys manage to fuck up there I’d wanna know if someone else was about to create shit problems too.”

You sighed with relief. He wasn’t mad.

“I’m sorry really Harry, I didn’t even know.”

“No yeah it’s fine. I get it. I still think he sent you specifically for a reason though. There’s just no way we aren’t soul mates or something.”

“Oh shut up Potter.”

He smiled. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Gee your head must hurt.”

He squints at you jokingly. “You should let me take you out. I can show you around today. Y’know, so you can see what wizards are like.”

“Is this a date?”

His face flushes red and he looks down at his plate. “Yeah, yeah it’s a date.”

And a date it was.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Harry! Again?!” You practically screamed. Harry called it aparation but you call it hell. You let it go the first time but damn. He barely even warned you, just took your hand, held it tight, pulled you close, and waved his wand.

It was teleportation. Something you’ve never ever done before.

“Fucking hell Potter I’m going to murder you.”

“And Strange was worried about your safety? This is like your 4th time threatening to end my life and besides, it wasn’t even that bad.”

You rolled your eyes.

Throughout the day Harry showed you all sorts of things you’d never ever seen before. This consisted of every flavor jelly beans (and by every flavor they really meant every flavor), a chocolate frog, and never ending bubble gum. And that was just on the candy side.

He took you inside this joke shop ran by two of his friends from his old school he called hogwarts. They were twins that went by the names of Fred and George. The only twins you had ever met was Wanda and Pietro but telling the story of Pietro’s death seemed to sour Harry’s mood but excite the twins. The fact that he sacrificed himself for a little boy made him a hero in their eyes. They begged you to tell them more stories.

By the end of the day you went back to Harry’s place and you were exhausted. You can’t believe all that you’ve seen and eaten. How was this stuff even possible? How was it all hidden? You were amazed.

Harry was glad to see you had a good day and glad that he had met you. When you got back, he told you that you could stay another night...and perhaps in the bed instead of the couch. He hadn’t meant it in a dirty way but that didn’t stop you from laughing until tears came out of your eyes. He was so awkward at times. Once he had to ask if it was okay to take your hand while you were in the street and it was so cute how he couldn’t really find the words even for something as simple as hand holding.

“Harry?”

“Hm?”

You both were laying in his bed facing the other.

“I had a lot of fun today. I feel like i’ve known you forever.”

He grinned from ear to ear and was glad that you couldn’t see him. He would have been beyond embarrassed if you’d seen how unmistakably happy that made him.

“I had fun with you Y/N. You’re great company.”

You were silent for a moment.

And another.

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You were scared of his response and your heart was practically beating out of your chest. What if he was just being friendly? What if he just wanted to be friends? You would have made a huge fool of yourself. You were going to turn away embarrassed until his hand came up to your face and slipped onto your cheek. He was so warm. His lips pressed against yours for a moment and then he pulled away.

After a moment he reconnected and moved his lips against yours slowly. Your hand went to the back of his neck and toyed with his hair. He groaned into your mouth. You smiled and scooted even closer to him. All you could hear was the sound of your breathing and kissing. You didn’t want to pull away but you had to.

“Harry.” you said practically breathless.

“Yeah.” he was breathless too.

“I want to show you my world. You should come see New York.”

“Yeah? You wanna show me those alien invasions and robot attacks?”

You laughed and snuggled into Harry. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your neck.

“Mhmm.”

“I’d love to see it.”

Tags:

@romance-geek @gooseyhouse

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epiphany-of-a-madwoman · 3 years

Text

The Last Dragon | The Witcher & Game of Thrones

Chapter 13 | Tearful Goodbyes

Pairing: Geralt x Targaryen!OC

Summary: Visenya Targaryen is the eldest and only surviving child of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. When Robert Baratheon’s rebellion was won, instead of being slaughtered by the Mountain like her mother and siblings, she was saved by Ned Stark and taken as his ward. Years later, after the events of the Red Wedding, she wakes up outside Blaviken. Now she finds her destiny intertwined with the White Wolf on her quest to go back home.

Word Count: 5200

Note: Click here to read the previous chapters ♡ Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future uploads!

*Gasp* Could this be? Me posting another chapter after only two weeks?? Impossible! I promise this is the last chapter that is heavily filled with angst, at least for a while! I can't help it, Vis is a very sad bean who keeps all her feelings in a bottle, and then she'll die. I just-- I need the build-up man! The character development man! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, let me know what you think, I love reading all your comments and theories! <3

The cool air of night is a stark contrast to the heat inside of Visenya, which grew hotter as the chaos during the banquet did. But now that peace is restored, standing under the night sky lit up by glittering stars, she feels that heat simmer down until it's a comforting warmth. The northern wind is biting, but she welcomes the feeling, the cold reminding her of the North - of home. The cold that would chill her to the bone, leaving her with chattering teeth and icy hands that always seemed miserable is something she longs for; a semblance of normalcy. She inhales and then exhales, watching with child-like wonder as her breath becomes visible in the cold temperatures. So enraptured by the weather, she nearly forgets she isn't alone, and that Geralt is a few steps ahead of her now, watching her with curious eyes. Yet it's Jaskier's voice that pulls her from her stupor.

"So this is it?"

Visenya turns around, gold eyes wide with her lips set in a thin line. Jaskier is standing at the entrance of the castle, the noblewoman previously with him nowhere to be seen. He's disheveled and so unlike the normally prim and proper Jaskier she's accustomed to, his floppy brown hair windblown and sticking up in random directions. His clothes are wrinkled in odd places, ripped here and there, but overall mostly intact. His eyes are wide, as they normally are, but they're glassier than she remembers them being, the stars betraying what seems to be held back tears.

"You don't have to leave, you know, just because the Countess de Stael has agreed to be my patron. I could still use my bodyguard," Jaskier says, smiling, but it's not carefree and easygoing, brimming with his usual mirth. Instead, it's tight and harsh, not quite reaching his eyes. His hands loosely rest in front of him, fingers nervously intertwining with each other.

Visenya smiles, mustering all her strength to appear every bit the soft and docile maiden from every fairytale, looking at him like she would've Bran and Rickon. She sighs, forming and reforming the words in her mind, trying to find the perfect thing to say. But each time she comes short, a harsh reminder she'll never be a good poet.

Instead, she opts to shrug her shoulders and move closer to the entrance, closing the distance between them. She's melancholic, feeling as if another chapter of her life is coming to an end. She and Jaskier traveled together for years, how could she not feel a hint of emotion when it seems like their travels are on hiatus - if not done entirely.

"Come on Jane, you in court, scaring away all the mean people who want to kill me, we'd make the best team!" Jaskier exclaims, trying - and failing - to have his usual enthusiasm behind the words. They fall flat, sounding more desperate and sad rather than upbeat and encouraging. Visenya sighs once more, the smile on her face requiring less concentration as Jaskier continues to ramble. Finally, she closes the distance between them. "I'll never leave you to your brooding when you want!"

"Whilst that does sound interesting, I'm afraid I wouldn't do well in court," Visenya says, reaching out and taking Jaskier's hand in her own.

"I disagree, My Lady," Jaskier says, pursing his lips and looking at the ground, pausing for a brief moment, allowing the wind to whistle between them. "But I understand."

"My place is out there, where I can stab things," Visenya says, raising her brows with a small smirk on her face.

"You could do that here you know? Not to sound like I'm trying to talk you out of your decision because I respect your choices and everything," Jaskier says, his enthusiasm gaining traction with each word. Visenya laughs, a small laugh that's nothing more than a whisper, but it's music to the ears of anyone who hears it.

"I could, but that would get me in trouble with the law," she responds, shaking her head, the smirk playing on her lips morphing back into a gentle smile.

"Right, I almost forgot about that," Jaskier mutters looking up towards the sky.

"Goodbye Jaskier. Though with my luck this isn't the end, I'll run into you sooner or later," Visenya says, a mischievous glint in her normally stoic gold eyes.

"Oh, I'm afraid you won't get rid of me so easily, my fair lady!" Jaskier exclaims, perking up slightly. "Goodbye, Jane. You and Geralt watch out for each other, alright! I won't have the two scariest people I know both dying, then who'll serve as my protection at high-class events!" Jaskier proclaims, some of his natural charisma returning, his blue eyes not nearly as glossy as moments prior.

"I'll do what I can." Visenya places her hand on Jaskier's shoulder, pulling his body towards her's, wrapping her other arm around his neck as she hugs him. Shocked, Jaskier is stiff for a moment, before melting like morning dew under the hot sun and wrapping his arms around her. He breathes in and then out, as Visenya does the same until their breathing is nearly perfectly synced up. She places her face in the crook of his neck, burning the moment in her mind, unwilling to ever forget this moment in case it's their last. She inhales his scent, committing it to memory; juniper and sage, sharp and warm and earthy all at once, with a hint of sweet wine and linseed oil.

"I'm sorry," she mutters, the words muffled against his neck, but Jaskier understands her none-the-less. "I'm sorry for earlier,"

Jaskier's hand moves from her back to the top of her head, soothingly rubbing it as Lady Catelyn used to when Visenya would run to her crying about one thing or another. It's comforting and familiar, nearly bringing Visenya to tears from the simple act.

"It's okay, you're complicated, I paid extra for my bodyguard to be dark and broody," Jaskier says, a slight sarcastic quirk in his tone at the end. "But promise me you won't isolate yourself any more than you already have. Talk to Geralt, he understands broody and dark."

"I'll keep it in mind," Visenya responds, slowly opening her eyes and unraveling from Jaskier. "Maybe I'll tell you all about how complicated I am next time we meet?" Visenya gives him one last smile, slowly stepping away, but not turning her gaze away from him.

"Oh, I'll hold you to that promise, missy!" Jaskier exclaims, wagging his finger at Visenya as if she is a child. Once again she laughs, louder this time, not as restrained as it normally is.

"I'm counting on it," Visenya replies, talking one last step, turning around to face Geralt, rushing towards him, eager to escape the emotions brimming inside her. Trying desperately to not think about how odd it is that she is walking away from Jaskier, the only constant in this crazy world since the day they met.

"Goodbye, you two! Now take care of each other, in every aspect, if you know what I mean!" Jaskier calls out, disappearing into the castle before either of them could retaliate.

She meets Geralt, who says nothing, he simply raises a brow at her, silently asking 'Are you sure?'

"My place isn't in court." Is all she says. Geralt grunts, nodding his head, a stoic expression on his face. "Let's go back to the inn, I need an ale and lots of sleep."

A smirk creeps onto Geralt's face, his eyes shining with amusement, illuminated by starlight. He quietly snorts, turning to face the gate leading out to the main portion of the city.

"I can agree with that." In nearly perfect unison they walk out of the castle grounds, Visenya easily keeping up with Geralt's long strides. They're quiet, the only sound is their feet pounding against the cobblestone road and the ambient noises of guards and nobles around them.

A particularly strong gust of wind blows through the courtyard causing a piece of Visenya's hair to blow in front of her eyes. She grabs a small chunk of hair, intently inspecting the grey-brown strands. With the silver light shining from the otherwise midnight sky, she can nearly see the silvery-golden hue hidden under cheap hair dye. Or maybe it's a trick of her eyes. She lets out a puff of hair, blowing the hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ears to secure it in place.

"So a child," Visenya says, no inflection in her words as she continues to stare straight ahead. Geralt's steps falter for a brief second before he quickly regains his footing. He sighs, heavily, somehow managing to put in all his frustration and annoyance in one simple noise.

"I don't want to talk about it Jane," he says. His tone is stern as if he's talking to an unruly child. It reminds her of when she, Jon, Robb, and Theon were the terrors of Winterfell, in the days before they grew up and the world became dark. She can't help the faint smile that appears on her face, her gold eyes lighting up like the sun, but not nearly as bright as the summer sun in the South. It's more like the North, where the heavy fog and thick clouds obscure most of the sunlight, muffling the harshest parts of the rays and bathing everything in dim light.

"I know, but not talking about isn't going to make this go away," she says, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. He's clenching his jaw, veins on his neck slightly popping out. His lips are set in a thin line with eyes like stone.

"There's nothing to run away from," he says. Visenya stops, turning to face Geralt, reaching her hand out and grabbing his shoulder, stopping him in his place and turning him to face her.

"Geralt," she says, her voice serious and stern. "This isn't a joke. This isn't making a bargain with someone in a seedy part of town and running away before they can collect their prize. This is serious."

"I didn't take you as one to think destiny is real." Geralt says, raising a single brow at Visenya.

"We all need something to cling to," she responds, not breaking from his gaze.

"And what do you believe?" Geralt asks.

"That...everything happens for a reason; that there's a purpose behind every tragedy and triumph that we experience - both great and insignificant," Visenya says, keeping her voice low enough that any nosy passers-by won't hear their exchange.

"This isn't some divine plan; this was just a princess using her magic to get her way, destiny has nothing to do with a girl who has no idea how to control her powers," Geralt says, standing firm on his stance. Strong and stubborn; he would've done well in Winterfell amongst the Northern lords.

"Oh cut the shit Geralt, do you honestly have to be so fucking pragmatic that you can't believe in something if you can't see it with your own eyes," Visenay says, keeping her voice low enough as to not attract any more attention towards them. Whilst the crowds are thinning with each moment that passes, even one person seeing their argument is too many.

"I thought you were more intelligent than this, clearly I was mistaken" Geralt responds, taking a step towards Visenya. His eyes glow bright yellow like the fire burning inside of her. Geralt's fire collides with Visenya's ice. He's egging it on, he wants a fight, she realizes. For her to get so angry she yells and screams at him. Why he is, she's not sure.

"Do you have to be such an asshole, Geralt of Rivia? You have no right to insult my intelligence by being so patronizing, I'm not a child, don't treat me as such," Visenya says, spitting the words like they are venom. She steps closer to him, close enough that she can feel his breath and hear his heartbeat.

"Well, it's either that, or you sustained a far worse injury in that fight than originally thought. How could you believe in this horseshit?" He won't stop, adding further fuel to the fire inside her; her pride rearing its ugly head and demanding she win the fight, no matter how petty and uncalled for it is.

Visenya narrows her eyes and clenches her jaw. Her hands form fists at the side of her body, her blood nearly starting to boil from her rage.

"How could I not, after everything that's happened," she says with a voice like ice, so cold that it burns. Her words are quiet, but they're sharp, stabbing into Geralt like sharpened icicles in a winter storm.

"What? What happened Jane? I'm supposed to believe in destiny just because you survived a rebellion?" Geralt asks, a mocking tone lacing his cruel and coarse words. He's not malicious in his intentions, it shines in his eyes, but the words are daggers to her heart none-the-less.

"Stop it," Visenya whispers, taking a step away from Geralt, but he just moves closer. "That's not fair and you know it."

"The gods don't care who lives or dies, why should they care about some child--" Geralt continues, but Visenya interrupts him, her quiet words silencing him.

"I died," she simply says. Geralt closes his mouth, his clenched jaw loosening. Visenya takes a sharp breath and then lets it out, watching as her breath dissipates into the cold air. Heart pounding with shaky hands, Visenya closes her eyes for a moment and then opens them before continuing.

"My family was betrayed and they killed us, butchered at a wedding like we were nothing but cattle. Next thing I know, I woke up outside of Blaviken with this-" Visenya says. Gold eyes dart around their surroundings, searching for any eavesdroppers. Luckily, the streets are nearly empty, the few people still scuttling around not paying them any mind. She holds out her hand, and focuses on...something, trying to recreate the feelings that would bubble under the surface before the fire made its presence known. Her eyes flutter shut, and within a second, a small flame flickers in the palm of her hand, the fire quickly dying out. But it's all she needs.

"Fire magic," Geralt says, breaking Visenya from her concentration. She closes her palm, hiding the arm behind her back as if to protect herself from harm. She looks up, meeting Geralt's wide gaze. "Blaviken burning... that was you,"

Visenya nods, thickly swallowing the lump in her throat, trying to push away the haunting memories of Blaviken burning.

"I lost control and just-- exploded, by the time I came to, everyone was already dead," Visenya says, shrugging her shoulders, her voice hardly above a whisper; soft, weak, and almost completely vulnerable. She purposely leaves out the part where she reveled in the destruction, feeling glee from their suffering. Geralt is silent - maddingly so, it leaves Visenya tense and uneasy. Every second passing feels like a lifetime as Geralt stands in silence and Visenya awaits his response.

But he says nothing, just simply nods his head.

"What now? Are you going to put me down like one of those monsters?" Visenya asks, and despite the self-deprecating words, her tone holds no humor to it.

"You're not a monster." Geralt says, his words like a knife cutting through the thoughts rushing through her mind. "What's done is done."

Visenya nods, taking another step away from Geralt and turning to face the road, eager now more than ever to return to the inn. The rushing wind cools her face and eases the tension in her body, not completely, but enough that she isn't afraid of exploding. Geralt's heavy footsteps pound behind her, his long legs swiftly catching up to Visenya. It's silent, but not the soothing one that leaves Visenya comfortable. Instead, it's tense and awkward, the words from their argument lingering in the air.

"I'm sorry," Geralt simply says, his tone not as firm as it normally is. Geralt is always sure of what he says - whether it's sarcasm or not, but this time he isn't. Witchers hunt monsters, not console maidens. The effort causes Visenya to smile, a small sad smile that doesn't fully reach her eyes.

"It's okay, we both have issues," she says.

"If you want to speak about it--" Geralt begins, the words sounding unsure as they leave his lips.

"I know where to find you," Visenya finishes his sentence, the smile on her face growing bigger. "But, if I did, I'd have to kill you," she responds. Geralt narrows his eyes for a moment, before a small smirk appears on his face, cracking the stone in his expression.

"Maybe you should tell Jaskier then, rid me of that bard," Geralt says, turning and continuing to walk towards the inn they're staying at for the night.

"Oh, he's not that bad. I might actually miss the guy," Visenya says, a small smile resting on her lips. "There's never a dull moment."

"That's what I'm hoping for, dull moments," Geralt says. Visenya looks at him, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"Well, I'm afraid you may not get that, not with me around at least." Visenya teases, cocking her head to the side as she raises her brows slightly. Geralt looks at her, scoffing quietly.

"I'm counting on it," he replies. Visenya laughs, the sound more similar to a scoff. They continue weaving through the citizens that remain on the streets. No one pays them much mind, too busy in their worlds, but the few that do take notice of Geralt say nothing. And Visenya is grateful, she's had enough excitement for one night.

o0o0o

The tavern on the level below them is particularly rowdy that night; horrible renditions of bawdy tavern jigs being sung by drunks, cackling men and women, and the thumping of feet banging on the floor and mugs on the tables. The wall shakes and the floor does as well, disturbing the small amount of peace Visenya has. She sits on the side of the bed, her bare feet hovering over the floor, only the very tips of her toes touching the cold wood. Except for the ambiance, the room is silent, but not unbearably so. It's comforting and entirely foreign to Visenya to be able to hear her thoughts.

Jaskier hated silence, needing to fill it with nonsensical rambles and filler thoughts to break the quiet. But Geralt revels in the silence, seeing it as a prized commodity he doesn't get blessed with often. The cool metal of her silver dagger cools the heat that's always under her skin. She balances it in her right hand while staring at the blank wall ahead of her. Jaskier always said she broods too much and is never much fun to be around when this way. Geralt is on the edge of the bed across from her, diligently cleaning his blade. Any dirt and residual blood from the feast have long since been cleaned off, Geralt continues to shine it. His ashen brows are furrowed and his lips set in a thin line. There's a small line that formed on his forehead, a dead giveaway that he's lost in thought.

Visenya sighs, placing the dagger back into its small sheath and sets that on the small table near her bed. The bed squeaks as she stands up, the floor creaking as she puts more weight onto it. Geralt pauses his sword cleaning for a split second but continues as if he never stopped.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

The floor creaks with each movement and the distance separating her and Geralt quickly dwindles until it's almost nonexistent, her knees nearly touching him. Wordlessly, she sits beside him, reaching a hand up and beginning the arduous process of unweaving the intricate braids Jaskier put in them. A partially broken fingernail snags in her hair, getting knotted and tangled.

"Fuck," she says quietly under her breath, bracing herself to rip the chunk of hair out. Mentally she counts down from three, pulling with all her force on one. Rubbing her fingers together, she looks at the snaggle she pulled from her hair.

"Here," Geralt says, sheathing his blade and setting it aside. His much larger and rough hand reaches up towards her head but hovers over his head. "Can I?"

"Sure, can't be any worse than me," Visenya says, turning around to give him access to the back of her head. Without another word, Geralt's hand tangled in her hand, but instead of the recklessness Visenya tackled her hair with, he's much gentler, managing to unweave the braids twice as fast as she would've.

"Can I ask you a question Geralt?" Visenya asks after a moment of silence. Instead of answering Geralt just grunts, focusing on a particularly difficult four-strand braid.

"Are there dragons? And are they real?" she asks, putting all her energy into keeping her inflection neutral. She remembers in the Main Hall when Princess Pavetta's scream knocked everyone to the ground and filled Visenya's head with visions of a great fire giving birth to a dragon. She remembers how the clearing smelt and the longing inside of her to run her fingers over the smooth golden scales of the baby dragon.

"Yes, they're real, though they're exceedingly rare." Geralt responds.

"Really? What kinds are there, or are they all the same?" she asks, trying to turn to face him, but his other hand cups her head, keeping her in place.

"There are five: green dragons, they're the most common; red dragons less so; and black dragons are the rarest," he answers. He finally managed to find the tie keeping the four-strand braid intact and began carefully unweaving it.

"What about gold?" Visenya asks, staring at the blank wall as she remembers that dream from the woods when she stood in the Throne Room, The Red Keep in shambles around her as a gold dragon flew above her.

"They're a myth," he says, combing his finger through the undone braid before moving onto the next.

"Oh," is all she says, unsure of what else to say. Disappointment fills her mind, and for the life of her she can't figure out why. They're only silly dreams after all, right? "You say they're rare, why is that?"

"Treasure Seekers, idiots eager to steal the dragon's hoard, all the better if they could slay it and bring back a trophy of their kill," Geralt says, carefully pulling apart a knot in her hair. He's much softer than Visenya would've thought.

"Why would anyone do that?" Visenya immediately says, her brows furrowing. A quiet ow leaves her mouth as Geralt finishes working on the snarl. He mutters a quiet sorry but moves onto the next knot.

"For sport. Slaying a beast of that caliber is seen as a high accomplishment to commoners and nobles alike," Geralt says. Visenya feels heat rush to her face, brows furrowing more, causing small lines to appear on her forehead.

"They're not beasts to me. No matter how terrifying they may be to everyone else, I envy them. To be able to go anywhere you wish and do anything you'd like. It's...nice, romantic in a childhood fairytale sort of what. I'd give anything to see one," Visenya says, her tone of voice similar to a wishful child dreaming of knights and kings, vying for a happily ever after with either.

"I never said I thought they were beasts. Though I can't say I share the same sentiment as you, I prefer to stay away from fire breathing creatures," Geralt says, glancing at Visenya from the corner of his eye.

"I guess it's just in my blood."

"Is that why you have a dragon on the hilt of your blade?" Geralt asks, throwing the last small leather strip from her hair across the room. Visenya's eyes watch it soar through the sky before smacking against the wall directly across from her.

"Something like that," she answers, absent-minded and lost in thought. "It was a gift from...an old friend," she continues, glassy gaze casting to the dusty floor. She clenches her jaw in a desperate attempt to keep it from trembling.

"Was it--?" Geralt asks, removing his hands from her hair, but Visenya stays in place. She fears if she looks at him she won't be able to control the tears building in her eyes, eager to be free.

"Yes, and his name was Robb. He wasn't my brother, not by blood, but the Starks were the closest thing I had to family. He had it commissioned for me when we went to war. It - and my cloak - are all I have left of them," Visenya says. Her voice breaks with every other syllable, the words barely heard over the jeering patrons from below. The fire in the far corner of the room cracks, the noise drawing Visenya's attention to the flames. They illuminate her eyes - even more than normal due to the unshed tears, bringing out the flecks of white and orange in them.

It's still fresh in her mind, a haunting vision that she can't escape no matter how much she'd like: the sea of dead bodies around her, only to find Robb's decapitated body when managed to free herself. His direwolf coat-of-arms the only thing left that could identify it as Robb Stark. It pulls apart the stitches she meticulously applied to each and every wound that she sustained in Westeros. Months upon months, maybe even years, of work, only for it to unravel within seconds. She wants to forget. To throw herself into something - anything - as long as it frees her from these memories that linger over her like a dark cloud.

She takes a deep breath, trying to erase her rapidly beating heart, slowly thickly to get rid of the small lump in her throat. Her eyes flutter closed, refusing to open until the building tears disappear. Eventually, they do.

"You're not from here, are you?" Geralt says. His sentence is a question, but she knows he already knows the answer. He always seems to know.

"No, I'm not," Visenya mutters, feeling drained as if she just ran a marathon on little to no sleep. She's tired, and she's tired of being tired all the time.

"But I don't want to speak about that," Visenya says, sitting up straighter and moving her gaze back to Geralt.

"What then?" Geralt asks, ashen brows furrowed and eyes gleaming with interest. Visenya leans up, her face mere centimeters away from Geralt's. But she doesn't draw any closer, instead, she stays perfectly still, feeling his breath fan across her face and listening to his steady heartbeat - the pace much slower than her own. Her eyes trace his face, focusing on a faint scar that rests on his right cheekbone. The healed injury nearly glows in the candlelit room. She places both of her hands on his shoulders, using him to steady herself. She feels light as air, getting drunk off of Geralt's scent, inhaling the smell of fresh herbs and leather oil as if it's a drug she's addicted to.

"Oh I'm sure you could figure it out," she replies, a smirk on her lips. A heartbeat later, Geralt surges forward, closing the dwindling distance between them. His lips press against hers, firmer than she remembers, but just as sweet - if not more so due to the sweeter Cintran ale. She leans into him, eager to be as close as physically possible, and even then it wouldn't be enough.

Visenya pulls back, deeply inhaling in an attempt to gain her lost breath. She stares into Geralt's eyes, seeing her reflection in them. They're memorizing and captivating, full of everything Geralt doesn't say with words. The longer she stares the steadier her breathing gets, but the heavy feeling from the feast doesn't lift, and the distraction of Geralt did nothing but provide simple fortification to an already lost cause.

"Oh my god," Visenya mutters, her somber tone a stark difference to the teasing one she used moments prior. "I died," she says, disbelief lacing each word like she can't believe them even as they fall from her own lips. "I was murdered at a wedding and I died," she repeats, the tears returning, only this time with more vigor and she's unable to contend with their will. They pour from her eyes like heavy rain, clouding her sight and judgment, until all she can think about is Walder Frey betraying them over and over again.

The memories she'd buried deep inside her resurfacing. Catelyn falling to the ground, crossbow bolts stuck in her body, and Robb's dead body - head severed and replaced with a direwolf head - being paraded around on a horse.

Geralt pulls her towards his chest, his expression softer than the usual stoic mask he wears, albeit confused at her confession. Of course, her timing could not have been worse.

It's the first time she ever admitted to what happened. That her death - along with Robb and Catelyn's were real.

This is all real.

Objectively, every injury she received; whenever she's thirsty or hungry; or every time she goes to sleep and wakes up should've been proof that she's alive and her surroundings are real. But she's never admitted it, not to anyone and certainly not herself. Westeros is a topic she specifically avoids, keeping it locked away to never be seen. Subconscious denial is safer when survival is a concern.

She sniffles once more and pulls back from Geralt. She rubs her hand across her eyes, drying the dampness. The tears eventually stopped, however, her eyes remained bloodshot and puffy. Geralt carefully watches her every move, removing his hands from around her. She stands from the bed to move back to her own, eager to leave this night behind her. But Geralt grabs onto her arm, keeping her from moving away.

She looks at him with glossy gold eyes but says nothing, and neither does he. Yet he's speaking more clearly to her than anyone ever has in her life. Silently, moves back onto the bed, Geralt moving with her. He pulls back the blankets, motioning for her to enter first. The bed is as uncomfortable and itchy as hers, yet when she finally stops moving and Geralt gets beside her, she's the most comfortable she's ever been.

They continue to say nothing for the rest of the night. Visenya closes her eyes, moving onto her side, facing Geralt who stays on his back. Each time she blinks her eyes grow heavier and heavier, each breath deeper until eventually, she closes her eyes and the world turns black.

o0o0o

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geralt fanfic #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #the witcher crossover #game of thrones crossover #house targaryen #targaryen!oc #the last dragon #CrossOver #witcher #Geralt

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inwarddynasty · 3 years

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Cartoon Gt interactions(sorry they suck)

(Most bonds take place at season 1)

Dipper Pines

• Most likely, he would try to catch you in a jar, he is devoted to anything out of the ordinary and a tiny person is very interesting

•He would most certainly feel bad when he knows he's frightened you, he'll lift the jar and shower you with apologies until you're calm

•He will hide you from his twin, give you food when you need it, and carry you around everywhere with him. It seems you know more than that book of his has to offer and he only occasionally looks through it

•He is way overprotective when he figured out that the grow gem doesn't work on you for some reason, he won't be as clumsy or sometimes careless

•He'll introduce you to Mabel eventually....maybe....ok it may take a while

Mabel Pines

•she will be curious and instantly try everything to get you, from traps to just casual conversation. You are like a tiny friend that is always listening but never appears

•when you finally decide to be nice she instantly talks your ears off, she tells you so many things and asks you so many questions. What she will mainly ask is if she can hold you

•once you let her hold you she is an instant cuddle bug, showering you when you want attention and when you want no attention

•making tiny sweaters is something she adores, she even tries to make you ride Waddles. Dipper gets scared that her energetic energy will hurt you but you're a touch cookie

Star Butterly

•You are disobedient, fearless, and honestly the most hard-headed tiny there was. Star was very confused as to why you would fight monsters that were way out of your size.Yet she admired how even without the magic you could handle yourself

•she would get a cuteness overload when you're trying to get to high places and don't have the right equipment

•she likes it when you hold onto her finger, she finds it adorable when you get stuck in the blankets even though she at times can barely see you

•Hugs are a yes, cuddling is a yes, tiny high fives are a yes, and so on. You two have so much fun together, she asks about your parents but you just change the topic

Marco Diaz

•You are not one to be pushed around, you hated being small and so when you met an overprotective Marco you made it a habit to do anything dangerous

•hed scowled you for trying to jump from one high place to the next, he was a very worried dad in your perspective. You thought it was funny

•he would make you some little treats if you were good or did something he asked, if not you would just help yourself

•he would tease you when you're in a bad mood most definitely and he will even put you in the 'time out cage'.You knew it was a joke and punishment but you honestly most of the time didn't mind

Finn Mertens

•you and him go way back along with Jake, a bond that can never be broken. He was a hero in your eyes and you were a ray of sunshine in his

•He would protest with Jake about bringing you on quests and stuff, you would always say you can handle it...you can't but you do it anyway

•he gets seriously mad when someone talks bad about you, don't even get me started on what happens when someone hurts you, he gets so enraged

•being a tiny anything and everything wants you as a meal, Finn would go to lengths to get you safe. If you ever got hurt or injured you can say goodbye to your outside privileges

Luz Noceda

•You were helped by her on your way to Hexside, they didn't have any books your size and quite frankly you didn't have size-shifting abilities.She helped you pick up your book and offered you a ride to class

•you couldn't do much magic, well....you could but it caused you to get tired fast depending on how big the spell is, Luz showed you her way of learning magic

•luz would invite you to the owl house, hides you from Hooty until she felt it was safe, and take you to her room she was staying in, you would lay on her stomach as she texted on her phone

•she is extra careful around you but also likes to do tricks with you and make small jokes to which you laugh at, all in all, she is really fun to hang out with

Willow Park

•well she would find you always near a flower, you were tiny with wings that resembled hummingbirds. She loved watching you from a distance seeing you interact with flowers of all kinds. Until she one day saw one of your wings was rip off completely, she rushed to your aid

•you were scared at first, it all happened so fast, but you soon realized she meant no harm and opened up to her slowly. You were upset your wing was gone but in the end, she cheered you up

•she made you a makeshift wing and it was like learning to fly all over again, none the less she helped you.Almost like a mother bird and her chick

•when you flew she was so happy and sad that you might go, but you loved being with her and you didn't have any family alive. Things would get better for both of you, Willow needed someone to talk to and you were right there

(Au versions are coming later on-)

(Want more characters added? Just ask!Hopefully I know em)

#small person #giant tiny #cartoon gt #gt writing #gravity falls gt #svtfoe gt #the owl house #the owl house gt #adventure time

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volucris-liga · 3 years

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Okay, the book came out in February so it’s been long enough that i assume anyone who cares about spoilers for Pathfinder’s Quest has already obtained Pathfinder’s Quest, and i have a lot of Excited Thoughts to share so I’m rereading the last chapter and writing some notes. I’ll still put it under a Read More in case anyone is still avoiding spoilers for it, but I figured it’s safe to post now at least.

The majority of this post is probably gonna be about Ash.

This post is also probably very long.

Anyway. Let’s go:

First of all, the Project Iris story stuff starts in 2658. Since the current year is 2733 (maybe 2734 by now? idk) and Horizon came back 87 years after she was left at the black hole, that means she disappeared in 2646-ish. So this is around 12 years after Horizon was lost.

Since the last chapter mentions that Project Iris had been around for 15 years, I went back to Horizon’s chapter to confirm that it was already technically Project Iris before she left (it was, yes), and found this bit:

“Lilian set me up with a laboratory on Olympus to test my theories and find a solution to the crisis. I brought my whole family there… I miss them.”

She specifically is talking about more people than just her son. I’m so curious about who Newton’s father is lol, and why it’s only Newton that we see in her Story From the Outlands and the rest of her lore.

Okay now I’m finding more stuff in Horizon’s chapter, i’m glad i went back to reread this too.

“Years and years went by with nothing. Financiers were getting impatient; Lilian was kind about it, but I knew even she was doubting in me. My own assistant thought I was failing.”

Whiiich means before they discovered Branthium, Reid already had sort of an antagonistic thing toward Horizon and didn’t trust that she could succeed at the project (though, as seen shortly, Horizon didn’t realize how bad it was). I’m guessing she was resentful that Horizon was getting all the recognition for the project and she was always seen as her assistant, not an equal scientist on the project.

And then there’s this bit:

Horizon: “My assistant, Dr. Reid, joined me on my mission.” Path: “The one who thought she was better than you?” Horizon: “Aye. Didn’t know it then, though. She was a good friend. We were close. Came to dinner with my family. Even babysat my son a few times. That’s why it’s so hard to ken what happened…”

Oof. I’ll come back to this point later; there’s some stuff about Newton in the last chapter that’s important.

As a side note, I think Horizon didn’t know a lot of the people in Project Iris, and most of them were recruited after she was already gone -- she’s not able to tell Pathfinder much about the group that actually solved the energy crisis.

Anyway, moving on. I appreciate that Reid’s first name is Ashleigh, lol, makes sense why she’s called Ash as a simulacrum later.

I really like that even in this storyline there’s connections to the other legends -- Wattson’s grandmother, Amélie Paquette, and Gibraltar’s grandfather, Aleki Gibraltar, are both on the team. There’s a bunch of other scientists as well, but as far as I can tell they’re all new for this lore with no prior connections.

There’s a scene where yet another experiment with refined Branthium fails, and Reid calls out Amélie for it -- “Your plan was wrong from the start. I pointed that out, must have been, twenty times?” Reid is clearly quick to judge others’ ideas and shut people down (and has been all along, like when she thought Horizon would fail before the discovery of Branthium). Reid and Amélie also reeeeeaaallly don’t get along.

There’s this exchange:

‘“Excuse me? And what have you done, Reid?” Paquette pressed, moving face to face with Reid. “Besides stand by and critique our every move while ze rest of us do all ze work. Is zis how you treated Somers?” “You’re not half the scientist she was.” Reid smirked.’

Even though she was resentful of Horizon, enough so to betray her, she did apparently respect her more than she does the rest of this group, which i think is interesting. She also just… really hates Amélie.

And then there’s Newton!!! aaaaa!!! I love that he’s an intern for the group now that he’s a teenager. And his personality is adorable.

Newton finds something that none of the rest of them saw, which is that someone needs to be in the refinery to continuously recalibrate the process. Which is impossible. Aaaand then it’s Reid, of all people, who comes up with the idea to reprogram a MRVN robot to do it. Which is painfully ironic, given what happens later.

While they’re trying to figure out how to actually do the MRVN thing, Reid mentions that she has contacts at Hammond Robotics. I’m assuming Hammond are the ones who eventually rebuild her as a simulacrum (though for all I know that’s been confirmed somewhere and I’ve forgotten. I have trouble keeping all the corporations and factions straight in my head, and i’ve barely played any Titanfall, rip). They’re definitely the ones who made Revenant (which has already happened by this point in the lore).

All the scientists putting part of their personality into Pathfinder is just so good. Especially cause of Newton; I love that it’s Newton’s influence that has Path being so friendly to everyone. Please give us in-game voicelines between Horizon and Pathfinder next season, now that Pathfinder knows Newton was one of his creators.

Aaaand here we go, stuff about Newton. Reid obviously helped raise him after his mom was gone. I wonder if she ever felt guilty about what she did to Horizon? A few interactions that Hurt:

‘Paquette paused and looked at the MRVN. “He’s our fail-safe.” “Whatever… I’ve got other work to do. Let me know when you’re done fooling around,” Reid huffed as she stormed out of the lab. “Should I go after her?” asked Newton. “She seems sad.”’

‘“A lot of what I have to offer is what my mom had, and I think most of that’s already in here, but there’s one thing that was always important to Mom: she loved her friends. It’s important to me, too. You’re all my friends. But especially you, Dr. Reid.” Newton looked over at her. “You were always there for my mom. Just like this MRVN is going to be there for the Outlands.” Reid did her best to smile, but it ended up as more of a quick nod. “Thanks,” she said hesitantly.’

I appreciate that Amélie is suspicious of what happened to Horizon. Like, Reid managed to fool most people, but not everyone.

‘As Stay started to pack up the tools, Paquette joined her. “I’m assuming you added some precautions to ze program in case anything was to ‘appen,” she whispered. “He can’t be hacked, if that’s what you’re askin’, P,” Stay assured her as she packed away a welder. “Zat’s not what I’m talking about.” Paquette’s expression showed a deep look of concern and hesitation. “You really don’t trust her, do you?” “Do you? Somers was ze best astrophysicist in ze entire Frontier. It doesn’t make any sense what happened to her. Ze stories don’t add up. I just want to make sure we cover all our bases.”’

More of Ash’s voicelines from the Broken Ghost quest! I thiiiiink this is almost all of them covered now, if not all?

Path says “Who doesn’t like ice cream? Every kid likes ice cream!” when he first wakes up.

Delgado says “All roads lead to Branthium!”

Reid herself says “Fail-safe, fail-safe, who’s got the fail-safe?” during the whole big Thing at the end.

When Reid betrays everyone to try to divert the first Branthium shipment through the Phase Runner to the IMC, both she and Newton disappear from the party first. And she and Amélie have this conversation:

“I knew it. I knew it from ze start. You killed her, didn’t you?” “I did nothing.” “Yeah, right. You killed Somers. You put yourself before every innocent life in ze Outlands.” “Innocent life? Please. The Outlands are filled with nothing but war and greed. No one cares for anyone but themselves. I’m just playing the game.” “Have you told zat to Newton? Where is he?” “He’s not a part of this. Not anymore. I took care of him. Right now, it’s just us.”

So Newton’s fate is a bit uncertain. I’m guessing she got him out of there to save him, actually, which I think is really interesting.

Anyway, Reid then cuts off Amélie’s hand with a sword cause deactivating the lockdown requires two of the scientists to authorize it. Which I guess explains why Amélie’s arm is in a sling in Pathfinder’s Story From the Outlands video.

Pathfinder had managed to get out, so Amélie’s able to set the lab to self-destruct with his help. Path’s able to fight the mercenaries and Reid and get to the Phase Runner. And then there’s this that Reid says to Pathfinder:

“No one is your friend. You’re a machine. Nobody cares about machines. Nobody loves machines. You’re no different than that Phase Runner. You’re a MRVN. We use you and turn you off when we’re done. You’re nothing.”

There’s probably a lot she has to work through when she ends up as a simulacrum, oof.

She almost stops Path, but then gets stabbed in the back with her own sword by Amélie, which is fitting. The mercenaries Reid was working with are attacking so it’s basically impossible for the scientists to escape, but Pathfinder’s able to program the Phase Runner to send the Branthium to all the various Outlands planets instead. And, at their request, to send himself through as well before the self-destruct (and he then eventually wakes up with amnesia). aaaaaa this is so sad

“I don’t want to say goodbye. You’re my friends. I’d be sad without my friends.” “You’ll never be without us. You’ll never be alone.”

I’m assuming that after the explosion, Reid’s body was found and turned into Ash. Also everything about the season 6 comics is so ironic now help. After Hammond Robotics get what they need from her after the Legends find her head, she’s just left behind somewhere deactivated, and Pathfinder finds and rebuilds her. And she has no memory (until Blisk shows up, anyway). So like, it was her idea to create him, and then he completely ruins her plans which leads to her death, and then he saves her life later. Great. When she had no memory and was living with him he called her his girlfriend and everything, he’s gonna be so sad when he finds out who she is, rip.

There’s this bit of dialogue in the intro conversation for the chapter:

Path: “I can’t be weak and the person who killed the people who saved the Outlands.” Blisk: “Heh. Very true, mate. That’s why it wasn’t you.” Path: “Are you sure? How do you know?” Blisk: “Pretty damn sure, because I know ‘em.” Path: “You know my creator?” Blisk: “I know who killed your creator. Or, well… creators.”

This implies that Blisk is fully aware of Ash’s history. Makes sense, and I assumed as much anyway, but given the season 6 comics that means he also absolutely knows that Pathfinder knew Ash and he’s purposefully not telling Pathfinder that Reid and Ash are the same person.

There’s also this part at the end of the chapter:

Blisk: “Oi! One more thing… Did you ever find…? Eh. Forget it.” Path: “What? Did I ever find what?” Blisk: “Actually, I, uh…” Path: “Tell me! Is there more to the story than what was on the chip?” Blisk: “Just one small detail. But why don’t you turn that recorder off. This one’s just between us, eh?” Path: “Okay. You’ll tell me after I turn it off--”

Now, my first thought when first reading this was that it was gonna be about Ash. But I’m sure it’s not, cause in Pathfinder’s last log entry after that he’s very happy and optimistic about finding his creators, and he would have been affected by finding out that Reid was the same person as his missing ‘girlfriend.’ Sooooo I’m still 1) very curious about what Blisk talked about after the recording and 2) very excited for whenever Path finds out the truth about Ash.

On a related note, I am so ready for Horizon finding out about Ash. And to a lesser extent, if Wattson finds out about her grandmother’s role in what happened and her history with Ash (also Gibraltar about his grandfather, but anyway). I’m assuming Ash would know they’re related to her former team, since she’s working for Blisk and likely would know all the basic info about all the legends, including real full names. So Ash interacting with Wattson would be interesting, especially at a point where Ash knows who she is but Wattson doesn’t know about Ash’s history.

Also depending on how things develop with Ash and the other Legends, it’s interesting to think about Loba’s perspective, since it’s technically her fault Ash is back at all. I wanna see a conversation between her and Horizon cause Horizon wasn’t around for the Broken Ghost stuff. Plus, Loba agreed to get everyone to go get the components that turned out to be Ash’s head because in exchange she’d be given the location of Revenant’s source code. With Loba later deciding to send the source code away as revenge instead of killing Revenant, her need for revenge on him is definitely gonna come back to bite her later, now that Revenant’s resolved to destroy everything she loves (maybe he goes after Bangalore?). Horizon’s still definitely very angry at Reid, probably even more so if/when she finds out what Reid did to the Project Iris team, and when she finds out Reid is Ash, well… both she and Loba certainly have strong vendettas against the two simulacrums lol. It’d be neat, though unlikely, if there’s a plotline where Loba ends up facing consequences from the Revenant thing and then because of her own experience she convinces Horizon not to go too far trying to get revenge on Ash.

Oh right there’s also the question of Newton’s messages to Horizon near the end of season 7. He’s still a little kid in those, even in the last one where a future Horizon who got back to him has sent a message to herself. And obviously, that didn’t happen -- Newton’s there, as a teenage intern for Project Iris, and the characters mention his mom being dead multiple times. Soooo then what’s the deal with the messages? I’m thinking there are three options: 1) Horizon eventually going back in time creates an alternate timeline/dimension 2) those messages are for/from a Horizon and Newton in another dimension entirely (look, the Phase Runner is weird, Wraith’s tech is weird, etc.) oooorrrr 3) the messages were faked somehow and are connected to Ash -- some of her voicelines in the Broken Ghost quest were the codes for those messages.

In conclusion: a a a a a a a a a a

#apex legends #pathfinder's quest #pathfinder's quest spoilers

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merelliahallewell · 3 years

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The Drust in Battle for Azeroth

This is the second of four? posts looking at the Drust using the in-game and developer information we have available to us. I find the Drust incredibly interesting villains who manage to have some understandable motivations (at least in BfA) and also a neat aesthetic. The Drust and their history and influence are what elevate the questing zone to being more than just a Witcher ripoff and gives it its own cool identity.

You can find Part 1 here. Anyway, here we go with BfA lore. This one is a bit of a doozy, be warned.

Part 3 - The Drust in Ardenweald

Part 4 - The Drust in the Night Fae Campaign (1)

Part 5 - The Drust in the Night Fae Campaign (2)

Before BfA

It isn’t known how long it took for the Drust to be defeated- we’re only given very rough timeframes. The dungeon journal suggests that they were defeated two thousand years ago, but that leaves 700 years between human settlement and the final end to the Drust, which seems a touch long. Ultimately, the timeline doesn’t matter so much as the impression that the Drust have been there for a long time.

Most Drustvari have a healthy superstition of witchcraft that comes from even before the Heartsbane rose, and it does not necessarily seem to be tied to Thros in their minds. As shown by Emma Mayfield and the Witch in the Woods, one also does not need to be a Heartsbane witch to utilize the power of Thros. It is possible that many generations of Kul Tiran witches could have been communing with Thros in various ways, just as they are implied to have made pacts with demons.

Drust Incursion

The Heartsbane Coven was formed at Gorak Tul’s command, after a dark bargain was struck between him and Meredith Waycrest. Tul promised her that her ailing husband would be safe from death, and it seems as if his price was that she would follow his commands and free him from the prison of Thros.

The Heartsbane Coven has a neat history that can be read through the eyes of the citizens of Corlain. I love the Coven and I think they’re really interesting- but since this post is focused on the Drust, we’re going to try to stick to viewing them through that context.

It seems as if the Heartsbane are portryaed as the successors in inheritors of the Drust’s legacy. They wield not only their power, but utilize the same sorts of horrific rituals and strategies that can be seen in Ardenweald.

The most potent weapon the Coven wields is the Heartsbane Curse. This curse allowed them to mentally enslave hundreds of residents of Corlain and most members of the Waycrest Guard. This curse, likely created by the Drust, is eerily similar to something we will see later on. On top of that, they used the curse to great effect on the local fauna, turning the birds and beasts of Drustvar into servants.

As the war with the humans turned against them, the Drust crafted many constructs in order to house the spirits of the fallen, allowing them a second chance to battle against the humans. The constructs were made of incredible materials such as Revlis and Hailstone. Though they could not craft the powerful constructs the Drust had once created, they mimicked them with wood, bone, and wicker. They made a number of various wicker monsters as well, the majority crafted deep within the Crimson Forest, though others were made across the mountains in Barrowknoll. They stitched monstrosities together from pig and human flesh, animated with dark magic.

“There is more to worry about in this land than simple beasts. Our enemy employs constructs of wicker and bone that can rip a man apart…”

These armies of flesh abominations and “wooden demons” were more than enough to to match whatever forces in Drustvar had not been enslaved by the Heartsbane already. The constructs were enough to defeat even the Lord-Admirals elite guards. The Coven took Drustvar by storm after taking Corlain with ease. Some witches were sent to infiltrate towns such as Arom’s Stand and Fallhaven, while they used their forces to directly attack Falconhurst, take control of the Crimson Forest, and attack Fletcher’s Hollow after they discovered a powerful artifact. Glenbrook not only lost much of its population to the Coven or the monsters in the woods, but also had the very land around it darkened by their magic.

If they had not been stopped by the hunch Lucille Waycrest had regarding their magic, it is entirely likely the Heartsbane would have overwhelmed Kul Tiras, which was entering a three-sided civil war at that point in time. The Drust would most certainly have been released from Thros at that point, with the Heartsbane as their eager servants. Drustvar was near-completely under their control by the time the Adventurer showed up.

It is an important point to mention that the Drust had direct involvement with the armies the Heartsbane raised. The wicker constructs were inhabited by either souls that were tormented and broken into serving the Heartsbane or Drust spirits called from Thros. Generally the ones in the Crimson Forest appear to house Drust, while the Soulbound Goliath and wicker men in Barrowknoll held enslaved souls. The Heartsbane also adopted the standard of the Drust, painted in blood (right). On the left is what is used in Ardenweald. It appears that the strength of an enslaved soul (or combination of numerous souls) directly corresponded to the power of a wicker construct.

Even as they fought for control of Drustvar, the Heartsbane worked feverishly to bring their master back to the world via a magical ritual held deep underneath Gol Inath. This ritual was called the Grand Rite, and required a massive effort held across the whole Crimson Forest. It appears the Grand Rite was meant to rip open a hole in reality to allow Thros’ minions in. While this rite was somewhat weakened by the activity of the Adventurer, Gorak Tul was still able to cross over briefly before retreating back into Thros. It is possible the Grand Rite was later completed fully within Waycrest Manor so that the events of the dungeon could occur.

Gorak Tul arrives in Azeroth for real this time via a set of ruins buried far beneath Waycrest Manor. He’s hugely threatening here, and summons additional Drust to aid him in battle. Tul still bears his vrykul frame, though he’s changed greatly, acquiring a strange amount of growth on his body like a tree almost, and his skin looks like bark. He even has a third eye. Seriously, this guy is menacing. These other Drust can also be seen being summoned by Heartsbane ritualists within Corlain, and it’s very unusual just how twisted and blighted they look compared to Tul. They seem absolutely malformed, more like Gollum than a vrykul. Could this be some effect of Thros after their long imprisonment?

A small aside: Drust undead were stirred from their long slumber by the Heartsbane magic. It seems as if it is capable of waking the dead in some fashion, though it almost seems to be from ambient magic rather than directed necromancy. Kinda neat.

Into Thros

Just a few things to wrap up with BfA and the Drust. There are minor bits of their lore I didn’t mention that are doable in Archaeology, which is worth it if you want to fly around pretty zones and dig up relics.

The isle of Fate’s End is located some distance from Stormsong Valley, and features Drust ruins upon it. Apparently, nobody returns from Fate’s End if they’re sent there. It’s here that Jaina appears to have been taken into Thros. Is it some sort of a natural gateway to the place that’s one way only? Maybe a place where people were unknowingly sacrificed to Gorak Tul? Whatever it is, it’s wild. You can fly there in-game, but in the story only a Tidesage can take you out there. It’s interesting that the Tidesages have developed a special rite in order to reach it, and I’m curious if that implies that the Tidesages dealt with Drust magic in the past or know how to negate it with their own power. It’s food for thought, for sure.

Thros itself is nothing special, alas. It’s just a color-swapped Drustvar with some more of those weird Drust and Gorak Tul hanging out. Honestly it’s a bit disappointing, but there is some interesting lore that comes from Ulfar during these quests. Ulfar also says some pathways are best left closed- lest those on the other side use them instead. Up until then, he was unaware of Tul’s return.

The entrance to Thros lies within the great tree, Gol Inath, but crossing the threshold will not be as simple as walking through. To open the path, you will need an effigy of great strength. Not one of the trinkets of the coven, mind you, but one of old, Drust magic. The path to Thros will be treacherous, but that is merely a fraction of what awaits you inside the Blighted Lands. Prepare yourself, <class>, for the minions of Thros will use your deepest fears and regrets as a weapon against you.

Once you have collected the necessary reagents to build an effigy and enter Thros, he says this:

I wish you luck on your journey, mainlander. Tread carefully, for Gorak Tul's eyes will be upon you.

He is vulnerable within his own realm, and he will go to great lengths to prevent you from entering it.

Katherine Proudmoore, the then-ruler of Kul Tiras, remarked that most people believed Thros only to be something of rumor and legend, not an actual place one could travel to.

The Blighted Lands...

If the legends are true then inside we will witness suffering and torment the likes of which we have never known...

The whole journey through Thros is interesting, as Gorak Tul clearly considers Jaina his most valuable prisoner. Eventually you catch up, have a neat cinematic, and battle him to the death. Gorak Tul’s death speech offers a hint of what is to come for Ardenweald in Shadowlands.

Your hollow victory... means nothing...

The Drust... will never... relent...

Dying with his last breath, Tul's corpse fades away.

One final mystery

The Waycrest manor dungeon is pretty neat, but hardly contains anything Drust-related save for the ruins deep underneath. It is especially disappointing that Gorak Tul’s boss fight room is the same one you fight him in beneath Gol Inath- apparently the Drust really liked that design, or maybe it’s best-suited for portals to Thros.

However, there is one bit of unique architecture. Created by artist Fanny Vergne, there is some sort of a design etched into the ground beneath the organ the Waycrests are playing. It looks like a worm, or a serpent with runes carved into it? I wonder if it is supposed to be some sort of horrific Thros monster or something else. In the files of the game, it is apparently labeled as “Jormungandr“ which is a Norse mythological being. Interestingly, the runes do not match any known Vrykul or Drust runes used in the game’s environmental art. I wonder if the artist would be able to shed more light on it or if it’s just a neat design.

#Drust #Drustvar #Thros #The Blighted Lands #lore deep dive #Battle For Azeroth #Kul Tiras #Merellia's RP Resources

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

Ceaseless Discharge

In which Cassandra gets stung by a monster. Also there’s quality Cass and Eugene brother-sister content in here 👌👌

Word count: 6414

TW: Blood, vomit

———————

A crunch echoes in the darkness. Cassandra freezes in her cot. The moon is full, but the night is overcast, so she strained to see in the darkness when she sat up. A small cluster of bushes lined the clearing she was sleeping in, along with gnarled old trees that cast needle-like shadows across the grass from the firelight.

When she listened, there are no bells or hoofsteps, so it can't be a carriage approaching. Besides, this doesn't sound like the clatter is wheels on a dirt path, but a rasping scrape over gravel.

Movement in one of the further bushes. The clouds part. A shaft of moonlight glints off something shining among the leaves and brambles.

It's nighttime. She’s the only one awake in the camp. She’s heard tales of a beast stalking the countryside: the Fen Lion. A ghost, a monster, a hoax, depending on who you ask. It'd make an awfully good story if she saw it. That was the plan of this excursion, anyway— The King wanted to rid the kingdom of the creature stirring terror, and Rapunzel’s answer to that was to find it and ask it nicely to leave, or at least settle down. Of course, that dragged Cassandra and Eugene into the “quest”, as well, which was why they were sleeping out in the middle of the woods in the first place. Rapunzel had said something about the creature possibly having answers to the Black Rocks, which was a horrible way to convince them to agree, yet here they were.

Cassandra stood up slowly. The dying fire only provided some visibility outside the perimeter of the camp, so she had to squint—not that it helped. She had to go check out the sound, though. It could be a threat or someone in trouble. Or maybe she was just really curious, plain and simple.

She liked to do things thoroughly, so she grabbed her sword and slunk out of the fire’s glow and into the woods. She made sure to keep low and in the shadows, hoping the crunching of leaves and twigs beneath her boots weren’t as loud as she was hearing them.

Silent as a ghost, Cassandra paused just at the edge of the brush where she swore she heard the rustling. If she listened very carefully, she could hear something breathing.

She wondered if it could hear her heartbeat, which seemed to thunder in her ears.

Instead, there is a whimper. And then, slowly, something poked out of the dense cluster of leaves. Cassandra’s breath catches.

It isn’t the Fen Lion, but it is a wolf. It’s yellow eyes seem to glow in the dark, but as it swings its head from side to side, looking up and down the road, Cassandra can’t help but think that it looks scared. The wolf just looks so sad. Her heart goes out to it.

She stepped a little closer. After hesitating for a moment, she extended her hand. The wolf sniffs it; it’s definitely a flesh-and-blood animal, not a ghost.

“What’s wrong?” She asked. “Can I do anything?”

She wasn’t actually expecting an answer, but it replied with a strange combination of yelps and rumbles. Suddenly, clicking fills the air, and it goes silent. It glances up and growls. Cassandra looks up, too.

Good news: She found the Fen Lion.

Bad news: She found the Fen Lion.

It was a lot bigger than she was expecting, as tall as the trees themselves, which made her wonder how it had taken them so long to find it. It was also a lot less lion and a lot more snake because it had a flat, serpent-like head and was covered in iridescent scales that glinted in the moonlight leaking down from the canopy of leaves overhead. A tail with a menacing barb at the end flicked back and forth in the dirt. Eyes a color Cassandra has never seen before narrowed and, suddenly, there’s a large paw pinning her to the ground.

Cassandra tried to yell, but had no choice but to shut her mouth when razor sharp claws pressed into her flesh. She clenched her jaw, feeling utterly helpless as the creature weighed her down.

The Fen Lion rotated its head like an owl would, which doesn’t sit well with Cassandra’s stomach. She squirmed again, but the talons press harder and she hisses in pain.

“What do you want?” She spat with as much ferocity as one could muster when pinned beneath a giant monster that could kill them with one swipe.

The Fen Lion tilted its head to the other side, then a giant frill opened up along its neck, bordering the skull like a mane.

Maybe that’s where the name came from, then...

Colors flowed through the scales like a waterfall- red, blue, green, purple, yellow, pink, orange, red again; Cassandra felt like she was being hypnotized. She struggled once more, but was halted when a sharp pain seared through her left side. She looked down and was horrified to find the creature’s stringer embedded in her flesh.

The Fen Lion tipped its head up and almost seemed to be smirking smugly at her. It made a series of clicking noises and wrenched the stringer to the side, causing Cassandra to whimper in pain. She began to worry if it was going to kill her or gore her with its tail, but then the tip pulled out with a small spurt of blood.

The Fen Lion lifted its claws from where they had Cassandra pinned and stepped back. Another animalistic smirk twisted on its snout until Cassandra can no longer see it when inky black spilled over the scales and camouflaged it with the night. She can only stare in shock at where it used to be and listen to its footsteps walk away.

There, Cassandra lays until dawn. By then, the bleeding has stopped and she can see the wound clearly- it’s a tiny little thing, only around the size of her thumb, but had a mouth of red flames and drooled pus down her waist. At least, she thought it was pus. It did look a little too dark to be such a fluid, but it also wasn’t red, so it couldn’t be blood. When Owl flew down at her weak whistle, he took one sniff and reeled back in disgust.

“Great,” Cassandra grunted. She tried to sit up, but her limbs felt like they were made of ten ton lead. “This is just great...”

Owl hops onto one of her arms and peers into her tired eyes with a hoot. She glowered at him.

“No, I don’t need you to go get Rapunzel and Fancy Pants.”

Another hoot.

“No, I’m not going to tell them!”

Another, this time with more skepticism.

“God, why do I even try talking to you in a crisis situation?” Cassandra grumbled. “I’m fine. It can’t even be considered a cut.” She abruptly pushed herself up, sending colorful stars bursting across her vision. She blinked rapidly to fend them off from consuming her. “See?”

Owl gave her an unamused look. She shooed him away before standing up, at least finding that a little easier. But then she takes one step forward and nearly keels over again. The “I told you so” hoot from her avian companion doesn’t help, either.

It was going to be a miserable day.

———

They saw the creature on a cliff. It was perched on a pillar of rocks further in the distance, hunched over like a lurking vulture. When it noticed the group gawking at it, it sat back on its haunches and raised its long neck and large frill.

“Oh, look at that,” Eugene said. “I wonder if that’s why it’s called a ‘Fen Lion.’”

His voice sounded a million feet away in Cassandra’s ears. She wanted to focus on his words, on Rapunzel’s amazed comments, on Max’s breathing, but she couldn’t think about anything but the colorful eyes boring into her very soul and the hole festering in her side.

———

Monday.

It’s been two days since the run in with Fen Lion, and Cassandra has cleaned up her wound pretty well, yet she woke up feeling like she had a fever. She moaned softly and lifted a hand quaking with tremors to press against her forehead; it was quite warm, much to her dismay.

“Ugh...” She groaned. “Fuck this...”

After wallowing in bed for ten more minutes, she finally hauled herself out to put on her damned lady in waiting dress. Luckily, the exertion from doing so woke up her muscles, and the feverish feeling diminished into mere warmth behind her eyes once she splashed her face with some cold water.

Perhaps the day wouldn’t be so bad after all...

———

Tuesday.

Three days since the run in with the Fen Lion, and Cassandra’s fingernails feel like they’re shooting out of her fingers. They only stop hurting when she grates them against a solid surface. Rapunzel deals with the sound it makes when she does so while cleaning her room until she can’t anymore and politely asks her to stop. Cassandra obeys and stops.

Twenty minutes later, Cassandra starts again without even realizing it.

Rapunzel doesn’t say anything this time.

———

Wednesday.

Four days since the run in with the Fen Lion, and Cassandra feels itchy and achy all over. First, it starts at the site of the injury and she accidentally makes it bleed when she rips off the bandages and scratches desperately, then it spreads to other parts of her body until it feels like she had rolled in poison ivy.

“Uhh... Cass?” Rapunzel said at dinner.

“Yeah?” Cassandra replied.

“Are you okay?”

Cassandra blinked at her. She lowered her hand from where it had been itching her neck for at least five minutes straight. The marks it made glowered a seething pink in the open air.

“Yeah.” She said again.

“Cassandra has fleas,” Eugene said helpfully.

“I do not have fleas.” Cassandra growled as she scratched behind one of her ears like an itchy dog.

She didn’t have fleas, but there was something under her skin, making its home in her body. She wanted to claw her flesh open and rip it out, and such a lust for that violent alternative scared her.

———

Thursday.

Five days since the run in with the Fen Lion, and Cassandra thinks she’s turning into it. Her insides are beginning to burn.

———

Friday.

Six days since the run in with the Fen Lion, and fangs are growing in over the teeth that are already there—flat teeth, human teeth. Those have to go.

Her joints ache from kneeling on the cold stone floor of her bedroom; even the thin cloth of her lady in waiting dress does not dispel the chill.

The scales don’t come in right, growing into her skin, itching and scratching. She rakes her long, hooked nails over her ribs until she rips her dress and draws blood and yellow pus.

New joints bristle beneath her flesh, as itchy as the scales.

There are bruises on her wrists and wasted biceps, purple and yellow. No fault of anybody- her skin has become so delicate that even the gentlest bump against a surface leaves a mark.

Fever chills, seizures, blood from her bitten tongue, staining her blankets and drying in a crusty mess on her face.

She bars the door to her room and tells a passing guard with the most human voice she could muster that she would not be turning up to work that day.

———

Saturday.

Seven days since the Fen Lion ran off to a new location, and Eugene was strolling the halls of the castle after third training with the guards. An oncoming storm caused them to end early, which was fine. That meant he could go see Rapunzel sooner than usual.

However, on the way there he finds Cassandra in a dark corridor that was lit only by the crackling torches thanks to the dark grey, nearly black clouds outside. She was clenching a basket of clothes she was supposed to wash, and leaning against the wall. Such a moment where she let her guard down was a strength for Eugene in their ongoing feud over who could insult the other the most, so he quickly slid into the opportunity at full force.

“Too weak to even carry some clothes, Cassandra?” He teased. “And here I thought you were strong! Here, let me.”

He took the basket of clothes without permission or waiting for a response, and found that it was way lighter than he expected. He internally laughed; this was too easy!

He opened his mouth to make another remark and essentially gain another point on his side, but stopped when he realized that Cassandra hadn’t snapped at him or yelled or even taken a swing. She showed no signs of annoyance or anger.

“Cassandra?” Eugene waved a hand in front of her face- no reaction. “Cass?”

Eugene set the basket down and leaned over. Cassandra’s cheeks have an odd color tinting them. He also notices her eyes are kind of glassy and she’s…hot. Like, fever hot. He bends closer and sets his hands on the girl’s shoulders to steady her, and he can feel her shaking slightly. She opens her mouth and pants like a tired animal, and her teeth look really sharp. Glinting.

Cassandra reached out and gripped his arms for some kind of grounding, and her nails start tearing his sleeves. But that isn’t normal, is it? No, because she has claws and there’s a tiny hole with black, root-like veins in her side that Eugene can see when her shirt lifts up slightly.

“I think something is wrong with me,” Is what Cassandra whispered hoarsely right before she goes unconscious in his arms.

———

Saturday.

Seven days since the run in with the Fen Lion- since the Fen Lion ran off to a new location— since the Fen Lion stung its prey, and there’s an unconscious girl in Eugene’s bed and claw marks on his neck and back.

The rumbling, fire breathing sky is pouring out rain, and the wind was howling as if the kingdom was falling beneath its elemental talons. Raindrops that had to be as big as oranges pattered against Eugene’s bedroom windows loudly, making him worry that they may break, but he quickly turned his attention to the bigger issue at hand.

Cassandra is struggling to stay awake. She’s breathing harshly and blinking her eyes rapidly, fighting to keep away black spots from her vision—or maybe it was to keep back tears. Eugene would have teased her for the latter option if it weren’t for the intense worry he was feeling. Cassandra looked like death itself. Her skin was paler than usual, except for her cheeks, which were dark red from fever. Her face was soaked in sweat, plastering tendrils of damp black hair to her forehead. Not to mention the obvious claws and fangs and seemingly-infected hole in her side.

“Cassandra, can you hear me?” Eugene called out. He sat down on the side of the bed, carefully brushed back her sweaty bangs, and placed a wet cloth on her forehead. Doing so elicits a small noise of relief through grinding breaths and feeble whimpers. “What happened to you?”

“F-Fen Lion,” Cassandra panted. Her eyelids flutter shut for a moment, but she forces them back open. “It-it stung me. During th-the night.”

Eugene grimaced. He wouldn’t say he was surprised, though; hiding a possibly-venomous and fatal wound was very in character for Cassandra.

“Geez, Cass...” Eugene muttered. “I should get the doctor and Rapunz-”

“No—” Cassandra reached out and grabbed Eugene by the sleeve. “I-I d-didn’t just let you c-carry me here for y-you to blow it.” It was impossible to see her as threatening when she was like this and her voice was shaking so badly her words could barely be discerned. Eugene gently eased her back into a lying position, but she kept talking. “Y-you can’t—you can’t—” Her eyes become very cloudy. Eugene quickly swipes up the rag, which had fallen off, and dabs Cassandra’s hot face with it.

“Easy, Cass,” He murmured. “Breathe.”

“You can’t tell anyone.” Cassandra finally forced out. “P-please. You c-can’t.”

Eugene went to argue, but then he saw the look in Cassandra’s eyes and broke. He looked away in defeat.

“Geez, don’t give me those eyes—” He sighed. “Okay. Fine. I won’t.”

Cassandra manages a weak, thin smile.

“Thank you.”

Moments later, she blacks out from exhaustion. Eugene tucks her back under the blankets, places the rag on her forehead again, then goes to see Rapunzel. He keeps his word, however, and tells her that Cassandra went on a last minute excursion with a battalion of guards that were short handed. It would take her a few days to get back, he said.

Rapunzel buys it.

———

Sunday.

Nine days since the Fen Lion ordeal, and now sometime after midnight. Cassandra is asleep in Eugene’s bed as Eugene sits by a lantern and sharpens a sword. He couldn’t help but constantly glance over at the girl he was harboring in worry, which nobody could blame him for. Especially when she began to writhe and whimper.

“Cass?” Eugene put his tools down instantly and went to the bedside.

Cassandra rolled over and stared up at Eugene with eyes he’s never seen the color of before. They looked almost like a mix between silver, red, and blue, and were filled with tears that Cassandra didn’t have the energy to hold back.

“S-something is wrong,” She croaked.

Something was wrong, Eugene knew, and not because of the illness. He, too, could hear the subtle cracks and pops of Cassandra’s bones.

The wings came first.

They started out as little bumps that Eugene saw bulging underneath Cassandra’s shirt, but then they grew out and out and out until the shirt ripped and the skin ripped and they burst free with a splattering of blood.

Cassandra was now rocking back and forth on her knees and elbows as the wings awkwardly flapped on her back, heavy from all the fluids and cocoons of flesh swaddling them. She made a pained noise no human could make, and scales began to devour her skin. Each part of her they tough gets reformed- muscles twisting and turning, tendons reconnecting, bones snapping like twigs and reshaping entirely. It was all too much for her. She lost herself to the pain.

—

Eugene clawed wildly at his face when his friend’s blood splattered into his eyes. He rubbed vigorously, trying to watch and see and monitor what was going on, but he was momentarily blinded. All he could do was listen to the cracks of bone and tear of flesh and squelch of blood and sobs of pain, and maybe even thank whatever deity that he couldn’t see.

Eventually, the noises died down, replaced by rustling and low, very nonhuman sounds. Eugene opened his eyes and stared at the creature on his bed.

It was...small. Small for a monster, at least. It had to be only slightly larger than Max and could comfortably fit in his room. Firelight glimmered against raven black and navy blue scales. Mahogany and amber speckled the folded mane of frills around the neck. The eyes were the same indescribable color from before.

“Cass?” Eugene called out cautiously.

It- the thing- Cassandra looked at him and blinked. Then, she looked at her talons and screeched. She scrambled off the bed in a panic, tripping over her own tail in the process, and smashing into the wall. Watching her stagger around and then writhe on her back with her legs flailing awkwardly in the air genuinely made Eugene laugh- he couldn’t help it! As worrying as it was to see his friend and little sister figure turn into a giant (well, moderately sized) monster, this was priceless.

And then a guard knocked on the door and ruined it all.

“What’s going on in there?” The voice demanded.

“Uhh— Nothing!” Eugene called out. He frantically tries to shut up Cassandra, but she was too caught up in her monster panic attack.

“Open this door!” The guard ordered.

Eugene obeyed, but just opened it enough to where he could just peek his head out. He attempted to reason with the guard, but the man stormed inside with his weapon drawn to find...nothing. Nothing but a trashed room, of course.

“I told you!” Eugene said after a moment of bafflement.

“What happened here?” The guard asked.

“I was training. And it got a little out of hand.” Eugene answered.

The guard looked at him like he was crazy and then sidled out without another word. Eugene quickly closed the door, locked it, then turned around frantically. In the corner, he saw a shimmer and, suddenly, Cassandra appears in a mishmash of pale green and purple scales.

“Neat trick.” Eugene commented.

Cassandra can only reply in a chirp.

———

Monday.

One day since Cassandra has become a scaly, color-changing, draconic creature, and Eugene was taking her through the forest where the Fen Lion had been, hoping to find some way to reverse the effects of being stung.

When they arrived at the spot where Cassandra’s blood was dried in the grass, Cassandra tipped her snout up and sniffed the air. Then, she clicked at Eugene and tossed her head towards her back. For a moment, the man is very confused.

“Do...you want me to get on?” He asked, slightly unsure.

Cassandra clicked again, so Eugene straddled her back as if she were a horse and not a beast that could kill him with one swing of her deadly claws if she wanted to. Before he could ask what this was about or even get a proper grip on her scales, the creature catapulted forward, nearly launching her friend off of her back.

Headed straight for a cliff side where the Fen Lion was last spotted, which dropped into another section of the woods below them, Eugene began to question Cassandra’s sanity, even if she had wings (which she didn’t know how to use just yet); however, she leapt at the last moment, although that still didn’t make this first time dragon-riding any less traumatizing.

Eugene gripped onto Cassandra’s neck with the tightness of a drowning man clutching onto the edge of a boat, and the quake that jostled through both their bodies assured him that they had landed on something. But Cassandra’s mobility did not last for long, for within the next moment, they were again airborne for another fleeting instant of terror. It seemed that, as Cassandra’s animal senses had been heightened, she could detect a grove better and far more secretive than she could have ever discovered as a human. And, Eugene had to admit, she did seem more agile and able within this state.

“I think you’re getting too comfortable in that body,” He had said mere hours ago. It seemed as fitting now as it did when he had first said it- after he woke up that morning to Cassandra relaxing in a ball in the corner of his room. But now, after being like this for just ten or so hours, her harmony with the body of the monster seemed complete, almost natural. Yet this time….this time things were different.

The jerk of the next landing sent Eugene’s thoughts and upcoming worried internal monologue flapping away with the rustling leaves Cassandra had disturbed upon her fall. Eugene looked about and saw an archway made of bark, where two branches of different trees had reached together and woven around the other. It was a magnificent sight, for the trees around them were of some mysterious species that he had never seen the like of before. Boughs twisting elegantly about themselves, and their roots jutting up and out of the ground to curl around those near. Their green leaves, shaped as majestic crowns, whistled in the gentle winds. Above, the trees sprang into a canopy, as if shielding its very existence from the outside woodland world.

“How did you find this place?” Asked Eugene, impressed with the girl (could she even be referred as such?), yet rather worried.

No chirp or growl replied. Instead, Cassandra moved onward, totally aware of all her surroundings- but was she aware of her own mind?

Indeed, Cassandra struggled, trying hard to concentrate as she propelled herself forward. She could feel her human consciousness slipping farther away with every step she took. If she could not soon learn how to muzzle the inner animal and be the alpha out of the two of them, she feared she would lose her sanity forever.

But when there came a faint odor upon the air, her mind fogged, and her last effort in fighting back the thoughts of the monster failed.

All at once Cassandra reared, and Eugene was thrown to the ground. Brown tumbled before his eyes, and he tossed back his bangs to watch in horror as Cassandra excitedly sniffed at the air, burnt orange and scarlet flickering through her silver and dark blue scales like fiery embers. Drool began to pour out of her mouth. He could see one of her eyes at his angle, and what reached out from Cassandra’s colored socket frightened him: an insane gaze of hunger, licking at the air it smelled.

He pushed back the fear, gaining his footing on the ground of the hidden forest. Slowly, he approached Cassandra.

“What do you smell?” He tried, hoping that his voice would force his friend’s senses to return to her.

But her reply came in an angry growl, and though every bone, muscle, and nerve within Eugene screamed for him to back away...he moved closer.

“Cassandra...it’s me. Eugene. You’re okay. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

And for a moment, the true eyes of the monster seemed to flash with Eugene’s answer, but a savage darkness regained the creature quickly, and it sped off under the archway of the trees.

“No, Cassandra! Wait!” Eugene cried, racing after the girl.

There were so many winding paths, closed in by the density of the woods, and Eugene soon found himself becoming lost. It seemed that the wood was a labyrinth, narrowing in some tunnels, others ending abruptly by rows of trees. Yet there were still few pathways for any visitor to stray through; though, as Eugene soon discovered, some of the roads twisted about into areas he thought looked the same as other places he had already passed. This forest...it felt like a place where humans should never roam.

Just as he thought he had lost himself completely within the woodland maze, Eugene heard the trickling of rushing water. He guided himself along by his ears until he spotted, between a patch of trees, a spring which filtered lightly along two small waterways. Along the muddy bank were talon prints far too big for a regular animal. His companion wasn’t completely gone yet.

Eugene did not have time to pat himself on the back for solving his missing dragon problem, however. He needed to find out what had happened to Cassandra- both with her being what she was now and what just happened. He doubted that the confusion of this place had bothered her ability to navigate, for it was in an animal’s nature to be able to sniff their way out of any dangerous circumstance. Yet, what was it that Cassandra had smelled on the air? Eugene could detect no odor other than the scent of the rain sticking to the leaves and bark in the cold morning air. Although, he had nowhere near the amount of olfactory cells she had, so it was no wonder he didn’t catch onto what she noticed.

Eugene no longer had to rely on his muddy path when he heard a shuffling noise coming from further ahead. In an upcoming clearing, the fire orange and caramel brown and ocean blue dragon was hunched over some object. Eugene approached slowly as to not startle her, but when he came to Cassandra, he was the one who was horrified.

Cassandra crouched over long dead travelers, the smell of their clothes and hair and flesh a putrid perfume. Eugene nearly vomited but he composed himself within an instant. What exactly did Cassandra think she was doing? Her jaws ripped at the leather armor and garments covering one ancient man, the rotting flesh exposed to the cooling rain that continued to drench their bodies.

“Do you know what you’re doing? Don’t you dare!” Eugene yelled, running up to her.

Cassandra turned and, lowered on her haunches, growled insanely at his figure. She rattled her stinger on some rocks as a warning not to come any closer. Deep red bubbled through her scales, and Eugene halted mid-step and backed away only a few paces. His friend had truly become deranged, he could see.

“Stop that right now! You’re not like this! This isn’t you!”

Cassandra ignored his presence and dug her maw back into the decayed flesh. She tore at all her teeth could reach, feasting upon the dead victim with a passion that scared Eugene. How would he ever….

“Cassandra, do you understand what you’re doing? You have to stop right now. If you don’t, you’ll just be another monster, just like the thing that made you into this.”

Eugene didn’t mean for his words to come out like shards of glass, but maybe the harshness of his tone would make Cassandra realize what exactly she was scarfing down and bring back her human mind.

It didn’t.

No, instead, Cassandra snarled like a wild dog with rabies. She flexed her claws in the dirt before rising up on her hind legs to her full height, easily towering over Eugene. She spread her wings and flared her ruff, letting dark red billow through her scales. Even in the dull, grey lighting of the rainstorm, her eyes still glinted with the ferocity and hunger of a feral beast.

For a long moment Eugene wondered who he was even looking at anymore. Was that Cassandra? Or was it the creature? Had she lost herself to the beast within? It seemed that way, with her claws primed for blood and her jaws dripping with gore.

And yet? He held out his hand. He held back a flinch as blood dripped to his fingers and palm, held tight to the ridges on her back with the other arm as red smeared up across the scales. He held her face, held his breath, and held tight to all the courage he could muster.

The beast he was clinging onto let out a long, guttural snarl that vibrates Eugene’s rib cage as he’s pressed against the thing’s softer underbelly. Hooked, barbed black claws raise up and hover mere inches away from his back. He feels blood and drool and maybe some foam drip onto his head and run in gooey trails down the back of his neck.

The deadly talons flex, just barely tear the fabric of his shirt, and then fall down limply to the monster’s side.

Cassandra, and Eugene was sure now that it was still Cassandra, stooped down to press her head to his chest. Though mute in this form, he could see the grimace on her mouth and imagine the words she was longing to say.

“I’m sorry”

Eugene gently strokes one of his quivering hands over the top of Cassandra’s head. He murmurs to her softly and it doesn’t matter how softly he speaks because he knows she will always hear him soothing her.

For a long time, man and monster stay tangled in an embrace. Eventually, though, Cassandra pulls away so she can revert forms and be free from this animalistic insanity that shrouds her mind.

The transformation is forced and as painful as the first one that day, but it leaves behind more throbbing and burning in her exhausted muscles. She blinks away black spots and then shook her head, like she was trying to expel the remnants of her feral thoughts. Her horns and webbed frill remain in this form, along with her tail, which is tucked in between her legs like a scared dog’s. Ironically, she’s not trembling in the form with flesh and no clothing. Eugene immediately shut his eyes and put his cowl on her, buttoning and tying it securely, seeing Cassandra was a bit too out of it to do it herself or even be embarrassed over her nudity.

“Are you all right?” Eugene asked. The rain is beginning to lessen its brutality as it lashed against their bodies.

Cassandra did not respond. Instead, her face became rather pale, which was impressive given that she was already ghost white. More concerned than curious, Eugene raised a hand as if to draw her attention up to his eye level. However, in that moment, Cassandra buckled to the opposite side, a line of vomit splattering from her lips. She sank to her knees, clutching her stomach. As she rocked herself, Eugene placed a hand against her forehead.

“I’m not feeling that great,” Cassandra gurgled through cringing lips.

“You’re not kidding.” Eugene said, “Must have been...”

He stopped because Cassandra retched again, so she most likely didn’t want to be reminded of what exactly she had done in her feral state. It didn’t help that she was still wet with blood, gore, and goop from decayed human flesh. She vomits once more.

“I’m just gonna...sit here for a moment.” She panted.

“That’s alright.” Eugene assured her, rubbing her back and quickly pulling her messy hair out of the way. “It’s okay, Cass, it’s okay. Just get it out.”

She was trying. She was trying really hard but it came to a point where her body felt like it didn’t need to throw up anymore and was ready to start feeling normal again. But she wasn’t ready. She became so desperate to purge the human flesh from her stomach that she half-mutated one of her arms and shoved monstrous fingers down her throat just to make herself vomit again.

“Cassandra!”

Eugene grabbed both of her wrists, feeling one of them shift back to normal beneath his fingers. Cassandra is crying, struggling to breathe over an oncoming panic attack that’s taking over her mind, just like the inner monster had.

“It’s okay, Cass. It’s okay. It’s over now. Nobody is going to hurt you, I promise.”

Cassandra whimpered and shook her head as tears spilled over.

“Other people aren’t going to be the ones doing the hurting.”

Eugene stared at her in disbelief as she sobbed below him.

“It’s like I was hallucinating,” Cassandra started softly, “I couldn’t control myself anymore. I smelled meat and thought I saw something, so I went after it. Eugene, I was hunting them.”

Cassandra put her head in her hands and shook it miserably. Her frill droops and fades into a mix between deep blue and pale green- sadness and fear, if Eugene had to guess.

“Oh god, Eugene, I’m a monster. I’m no different than the other creatures!”

“Don’t say that.” Eugene said firmly, “You are not them.”

“I chased the people I saw,” Cassandra whispers hoarsely, “I chased them to the ends of this place and they ran from me. They were scared of me.”

“You won’t be like that.” Eugene assured her. “It’s alright. I promise.”

“No,” Cassandra croaked, shaking her head softly. “No, no it’s…s’not alright, is it? For you to be-”

“Cassandra, honey,” Eugene interrupted softly with a sigh.

Suddenly, there’s hands cupping either sides of her cheeks and she flinches, then waits for her neck to be snapped. It’s the fate she deserved. But, instead, her chin is lifted and she makes eye contact with Eugene kneeling in front of her.

“Whatever you’re going to say, save it.” He said. “There’s no use, because you’re not going to get rid of me.”

“But-“

“But nothing.” Eugene stopped her. “If you think you being infected with some dragon gene that turns you into a creature is going to be the defining factor that ends the dynamic we have going on, then you must be crazy AND too weak to hold a basket of clothes.”

That prompts the smallest laugh out of Cassandra. She sniffled and leaned forward, collapsing into Eugene’s arms. He practically pulled her into his lap, but she couldn’t really care. She was dying to be held after all that’s happened, and Eugene seemed happy to comply with that need.

“Plus,” Eugene went on. His fingers stroked delicately through Cassandra’s tangled hair. “Okay, actually, first- we seriously need to get your a proper hairbrush. What is with this bedhead style?”

“Shut up,” Cassandra growled. She quickly shut her mouth when she felt her monster rumble within her and she buried her face against Eugene’s chest, trembling again. The arms around her hold her even closer, more securely.

“Anyway,” Eugene continued. “It’d be a huge bummer if I couldn’t tell people my little sister was a dragon...hybrid...thing.”

“Your...sister?” Cassandra echoed. She peeked up at Eugene, but whipped her head right back down when she saw that stupid smirk on his face.

“What should I call you? You’re clearly more than a friend.” Eugene mused. “Just not in that way. No offense, but I would NEVER date you.” He paused. “What about platonic significant annoyance?”

Cassandra snorted against his chest. She could scales bristling back up along her shoulders, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at that moment.

“No, I- I like sister.” She said shyly.

“Sister it is, then...sis.”

“Don’t wear it out.”

Eugene shifts her in his arms, but doesn’t let go. She feels him press a kiss to the top of her head and her ears flame red.

“We’ll get through this, Cass. I promise.”

“I’m just- I’m so glad you’re okay,” Cassandra whispered. “I don’t know what I’d do if I-“

“It’s not going to happen,” Eugene answered definitely. “I’m okay and you’re going to be okay too, Cass. You’ll see.”

If it were anyone else speaking these words to her, Cassandra would have never believed them. But Eugene, with all his frustrating flaws, was different. And maybe, just maybe, one day Cassandra would be able to see herself the same way he saw her.

#tangled the series #rapunzel’s tangled adventure #tangled #tts cassandra #tts eugene #eugene fitzherbert #tts rapunzel #tts fanfiction #tts fanfic #tw: blood #tw: vomit #tw: emetophobia

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beammeup-spidey · 4 years

Text

Peter’s Mission - P.P

Pairing: Husband!Peter x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Language, and fluffiness ^-^

Summary: You leave clues around the house whilst Peter’s out doing his daily neighbourhood patrol, and when he comes back home it’s his mission to follow the clues to find you... and someone else.

A/N: Just wanted to say hi, and I hope you enjoy the story >.<

Masterlist

It was at this time that your husband should have come home from his afternoon patrol. He'd always come home to you there, adorning a massive grin upon seeing his presence.

This time when he came home at his usual hour, something was different. He ripped his mask from his face, quickly running a hand through his damp locks.

"Hey Y/N, I'm home!" He called, throwing his mask across the living room, till it hit the plush sofa sitting in front of the couch. He frowned. Usually you'd be in the living room, and would occasionally catch the mask if he'd thrown it that way. When there was no response he stopped walking, waiting for a sound to let him know you were there, but again there was nothing.

"Babe?" Only one of his brows raised, as yet again no sound came.

He walked toward the couch to grab back his mask, though as he did so he found a note attached to the back of piece of furniture. It was obviously written by you, and so his lips curled upward at the sight. Moreover, the note was carelessly ripped by the margin which nearly made him laugh, because you didn't put in much care into the presentation.

He read the first few lines of your handwriting. After you read this line, please read out loud the rest of the clue.

"Oh so this is a clue," He said out loud, piecing together that you must be hiding somewhere close by. "I will find you, I'll make it my mission!"

He turned back to the piece of paper and read it in a loud voice, "You have found the first clue, but this is only the first of four. Peter, I know you must be wondering... why the hell isn't my wife here right now? Well, you'll have to work your way to earn my attention--" He shook his head with a laugh "--To find the next clue, you'll have to search where the monsters hide. Quickly, before they collect your screams for electricity."

He checked the back of the note. That was the end of clue number one.

"'Where the monsters hide'." He laughed again, running another hand through his hair, "I love the Monsters Inc. references, babe!" With the mask and note in hand, he made his way to yours and his bedroom. Peter was curious as to whether there was a surprise by the end of the mission or not. In any case, if this strange treasure hunt was just you being bored and trying to have fun then he wasn't complaining, because so far he was beyond excited.

He placed the mask onto the foot of the large bed and got down onto his knees. A small gasp passed his lips as his eyes made contact with the second clue, positioned under the bed. Slowly, he made his way to sit onto the soft mattress, reading aloud for you - wherever you were - to hear. "Congratulations, Spider-Man -- Thanks, Y/N -- you've found clue number two! The answer to this question should help you continue... Why did the bee marry? This is a joke, right? I must have said to her before." He paused for a moment to think. "Aha, Because he finally found his honey!" His shoulders jiggling with small laughter as he stood up. "So, is the note in the kitchen? Maybe?"

With that conclusion, he sped through the apartment past the living room into the kitchen. All the while his smile grew and his heart pounded against his chest at the thought of getting closer to you. Just as the clue had prompted the next note was folded under the jar of honey, close by the fruit bowl on the counter.

He took the note and flattened it out onto the table. "Getting closer, love, getting closer. Just you wait, Y/N! You better be ready once I find you..."

Peter quickly closed his mouth, and froze, listening in to any sound, a hint of movement perhaps. Nothing again. You were certainly good at hiding.

He read on with not a minute to waste, "The fourth clue may well be in your hands. That is, I retrieve this item by the couch where I stand. When you come through the door and I give you kisses that are so grand. I hope this clue will help you, I know you'll understand... And a winky face, that can't be a good sign."

With a sigh he leaned back from the table and fiddled with the gloves of his suit in thought. He closed his eyes, picturing the moment he'd walk through the door every day. "When I come home Y/N is usually by the couch. But she's never holding anything... 'I retrieve this item'... OH! My mask!" He ran back to the bedroom, and snatched up the said item, looking inside, shaking it, trying to find a note, a piece of paper, anything. He hadn't noticed anything inside it while on patrol, so how could you have put a clue in it?

Peter's eyes widened in a revelation and he slid the material over his face.

"KAREN—."

"Hello again, Peter."

"Did Y/N get access to you in the past few days?"

"Yes, a day ago, in fact. She told me to keep it a secret until you'd find the third clue."

He smirked, loving the way you managed to get to his suit when he wasn't looking. It was rather thrilling and made you more endearing.

"Can I please see the fourth clue?"

No more was said by the Artificial Intelligence, instead a video popped into his mask's vision, zooming in and then playing.

You were there, most likely holding your phone to film. Your smile was cheeky, and you wore the same outfit from two days ago.

"So... you found the last clue?"

Peter snorted at your Captain America impression.

"It feels weird filming this now, knowing you'll only watch it in a few days, but anyway, you're probably wondering if there's even a catch to this whole..." Your voice drifted off, trying to find the next few words, "this whole mission or quest. Well, I'm happy to let you know that you haven't wasted your time. There is something waiting for you. Now, you'll have to be very patient..."

"What is it?" Peter giggled. Your voice had slowed dramatically and turned very soft.

"Because our surprise won't be here for nine months."

"N-N..." His heart flipped, cartwheeled, somersaulted, finally putting pieces together. Recently in the mornings you looked 'green around the gills' as Peter observed, and you'd picked up strange cravings. How had he not seen it sooner? He needed to see you.

"Peter." Your voice snatched him from his thoughts and his wild heart beating. Only, it was still you from the video talking. "Take off your mask, love."

He didn't need to be told twice as he yanked the mask right off, making it fly through the air and land on the ground with a small splat.

"Y/N, get over here now. Where the—?"

Two small taps on his shoulder ensued, and as soon as he felt your familiar touch, he spun around. Laughing heartily as he scooped you up into his arms, hugging you tightly. You let out a little squeal at his sudden action, however quickly laughed along with him as he swayed you from side to side.

After a moment he stopped, looking down at you with literal heart eyes, only they were slightly blurred by the edges.

"You're fucking pregnant." He whispered.

Not knowing how to respond due to the sheer excitement of having finally told him, you nodded in response and bit your lip.

"You're really pregnant..." Not even believing his own words coming from his mouth a joyful tear rolled down his cheek, making you both share a giggle. "Oh my God, I'm so happy. I'm—."

With a pull of his neck, you planted your lips onto his. It was short, but let Peter know how much you loved him without having to say anything.

The kiss lingered on his lips when you pulled away, and he wanted you to do it again.

He placed you down onto the bed behind him, and then knelt down between your legs which hung over the side of the bed. "Why didn't you just tell me straight up, instead of putting on this mission thing? Baby, how long have you known?"

"I wanted it to be fun," You answered sheepishly, fiddling with his gloved fingers. "And I've known for a week now."

"A week? Just to set this up? I mean it was fun but... slightly flawed in that you should've just told me, or showed me the test result, you know?"

His cheeks rose further up his face when you responded with a laugh. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

"I hope you don't plan on telling everyone else the same way you told me."

"Oh, not a chance!"

He squeezed your hands, "You haven't told May yet have you?"

"Of course not. You know she wouldn't be able to keep it a secret from you."

"You're right. I'm the only one who knows, right?"

You nodded, "The only one."

"God, I love you." He leaned forward again and kissed your lips, letting his hands rest on your hips.

"I love you too, Pete." You brushed a hand over his forehead, moving any stray hairs back away from his eyes, and wiping a tear "So much. You're going to be such an awesome dad."

His eyelids hovered in a loving gaze, thankful for your compliment. In a smooth motion, Peter had let his hands fall to your waist, close by your belly, causing you to lean slightly back, allowing him access to your midriff.

Your heart melted, as he began to speak. "Hey little one. It's your dad, haha. I hope you don't give your mum too much trouble during these nine months. I'll be right beside her, and supporting her, but I'll need you to do the same because she's going to be doing a lot of work."

When he said 'mum', he looked up at you in pure adoration. It made your heart melt all over again, and your stomach to fill with butterflies - the same butterflies that had appeared back when you were both 17 years old, the first time he confessed his feelings for you.

"We're super excited to meet you, baby." With that said, your husband placed a kiss on your stomach, despite the material of your oversized shirt covering your bare skin. You grabbed his hands and put your lips on his knuckles, looking down at him with a suggestive eyebrow.

"Should we tell Aunt May now?"

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Masterlist

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #tom holland x reader #tom holland #spider-man x reader #spider-man #peter parker one shot #peter parker imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader insert

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kingofdirtandnothing · 3 years

Text

@polyfacetious big ass Christmas Drabble Extravagaza: Day Four

“I’ve never really cared for books with covers.”

Beneath his questing hands, Thomas hears a brief rush of exhaled breath from James’ nose that might be laughter. But he’s not going to let his lovely little cynic ruin his monologue here. Thomas has a point to be made, and he’s not going to be deterred until he makes it.

Not that he thinks James minds all that much anyway, seeing as he was comfortable in Thomas’ leather recliner, shoes off and socked toes warming in front of a fire that was perfectly stoked, if Thomas did say so himself.

“As I was saying…” Thomas feels the ridge of a knot of muscle just beneath his thumb, and he digs into it with gusto, feeling the wince beneath his palms. True release took a little pain, James. “Books with covers are so boring. You can see what’s going to happen, right there on the cover.

Say the book has a castle on the cover, and a knight below him with his sword drawn. Easy. You know that the story is going to be about a man overcoming hardships to win the day. Your book has a fine, upstanding woman with her bodice ripped, staring into the eyes of a savage muscle man with flowing locks?”

Thomas huffs. “I won’t even waste my breath telling you how trite and easy to read those books are. Even more recent books fall to the same thing. A massive house against the backdrop of the night sky? Haunted house. Ghosts either of the supernatural or the completely natural. A fancy typesetting and curling letters spelling out a long and complicated name?” Those were a dime a dozen these days. “A coming of age story about a young woman who’s supposed to be just like everyone else, but somehow she’s completely different than all of them, and special.”

Now, Thomas had no trouble with any kind of those stories. People in cold marriages needed to find love and warmth wherever they could. He wouldn’t begrudge him that. The same with haunted house ghost stories and young women who wanted to believe they were special when everything spoke to the contrary.

“All of that, just from the cover. What’s the point of even reading through these books, if you know how they’re going to end?” Thomas would admit he’s never really been the type to read for pleasure. He enjoyed music more than he ever would sitting down with a book. There was a magic in music he could never find in words. But he still knew the value of a good book, no matter the genre it resided in.

“But when you go into the bookstore and all you can see is plain cardstock? Now that’s the kind of mystery that I love. Especially when the title is short. Atlas Shrugged. How on Earth would I know what that was about, just from the words stamped onto the spine? Or The Grapes of Wrath. Jude the Obscure. Obscure isn’t the right word for it, my friend. The right word is mystery and I love a good mystery.”

Case in point, the one turning to goo beneath his very fingers at this moment. It had taken weeks of flirting to even get James to start opening up to him, his very own closed book. But Thomas had been intrigued from the second he saw the words stamped onto James’ spine and it had become his mission to read every page of the man’s book.

Even now, when one cup of tea at Magnus’ place had turned into a lunch date at Diego’s, to a dinner date at Maria’s and now, a third date here in the house that Thomas was renting for his “vacation” (could you really call it a vacation when it had been going on for months now? Maybe he should start calling it his extended leave.) there was still so much about James that he didn’t know.

It felt like being in the first chapter still, but hooked on every paragraph and every turning of the page. James Madison was a book that Thomas wasn’t ready to put down.

“The world is so much more fun when you don’t know what’s going to happen in it.” Thomas knew from the huff of breath on the other side of the chair that James didn’t agree. But James was a polite man. A smart one too, who didn’t want his shoulder rub to come to a premature end by having a differing opinion. “You don’t think so?”

“I prefer structure, and order. I like knowing when and where things are going to happen, and why.” James had skin like the best dark chocolate, and a voice like a gravel road. The perfect mixture of haute couture and savage realism.

Thomas might be in a little bit deeper than he wants to think about right now.

“I understand that. Provisionally, of course. I wouldn’t want to live my life like that, personally. But I see how a person could find comfort in having their whole life laid out in front of them.” That had been Thomas’ life. He was meant to follow in his father’s footsteps, practically from the moment he was born. Go to school, excel, get his degree. Practice law.

Thomas did all of that. And he did it well. He was damn good at his job, and there were political aspirations on the horizon that were fifty percent his own, and fifty percent his family’s. Thomas had known from kindergarten just where his life was going. The tracks were already set, all he could do was keep trundling down them.

But this trip, this brief foray into the unknown had been bracing, in the best kind of way. A cold shower of the soul, as it were. An outsider’s perspective was always useful when it came to making the right choice.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that the outsider in question was built like a brick shit house, to use his grandmama’s words, the very same ones she would have washed his mouth out for even thinking if she was still alive, God rest her soul.

It was more than that he knew, if Thomas felt the urge to navel gaze and really look deep. James was handsome, and Thomas was going to read that book inside and out before it was all done, and leave his mark on the page. But beyond the physical, he found himself insatiably curious about the mental. The emotional.

James Madison was a good looking puzzle. He just so happened to be the kind of man that Thomas was thinking he might want to spend some serious time with.

“What about a fork in the road? Say you’re sailing through your life. Everything is going good. And this upcoming thing isn’t an obstacle. It’s just a fork in the road. Two different paths. One isn’t better than the other. They’re just damn different. How do you decide which path you go down?”

There’s a warm, rumbling hum from deep in James’ chest, and Thomas’ fondness grows exponentially. James was the kind of man who thought through everything he said. Even the most trivial things were given heavy thought, and Thomas adored it. There was no rushing perfection, and there was no rushing James.

“I’d have to go with my heart.”

James was also a man of few words. But those words always carried weight with them and seemed to sink in beneath Thomas’ skin. It was a good call, and one he was sure would sound trite or stupid from someone else’s lips. Follow your heart. What a novel concept.

Thomas was going to keep that in mind when he got to his fork in the road. But for the moment, he had a little more time on this straight and narrow. Which meant he could take his kneading cat fingers and “accidentally” slip them beneath the collar of James’ shirt to feel the warmth of his skin and the strong cord of muscle beneath it.

He was going to be a goddamn delight in the bedroom, and Thomas was eager to see this through to that point. There was an honesty in intimacy that you couldn’t fake. Even with a one night stand, you had to hand over some part of yourself, if only for a little while.

There’s a soft intake of breath, and Thomas wonders what his mother would think about him taking all his cues from something so simple as breath. She’d either be impressed he could shut up long enough to listen, or rolling her eyes at him.

“Clumsy me.” There’s something cat-like and pleased in Thomas’ tone when he speaks. Tonight might not be the night they make it upstairs. But a little skin against skin in the library was going to be more than enough to whet his appetite.

For tonight, at least.

One thing James had to learn was a universal truth that everyone who met Thomas had to learn.

He was insatiable. Whether it be his appetite for life, for the finer things or even for the baser pleasures that came between the sheets after an evening of verbal fencing, there was nothing that Thomas wouldn’t go back for seconds for. Life was just too good to settle for anything less than the best.

Slowly, terribly slowly, Thomas starts to pull his hand away. And for one long second, he feels that pang of disappointment that he’s going to have to. But then James lays a hand over the top of his, smoothing out his knuckles until Thomas’ palm is flush with his shoulder.

The touch sends a jolt right through him. What a silly life he was leading, where the touch of a man’s hand on his was enough to set his blood aflame. “You know…” He draws the words out, molasses slow and sweet on his tongue. “This would be a hell of a lot easier if I didn’t have to work under the seams of your shirt.”

It’s a silly little ploy, the kind of thing you threw out there just to get a laugh or a reaction. The last thing Thomas expects is the good Lord blessing him with the sight of James standing and unbuttoning his crisp white shirt, one pearl button at a time.

Inch by glorious inch, it reveals dark skin that all but glows in the firelight, and a soft cotton undershirt beneath. Thomas can’t remember the last time he had a drink of water, because his mouth is feeling like the Sahara. Parched.

But for all the strong swell of muscle and the gentle taper of James’ hips, the thing that draws Thomas in the most is the light in his eyes. Bright. Playful. James was absolutely aware of what he was doing to Thomas, and that only made it better.

Checkers was fun, but there was no holding a candle to a good game of chess.

Thomas doesn’t look away from his lovely view as he reaches behind him to turn the dial and kill the gas to the wood burning fireplace. His drink had long been forgotten on the table next to James’ hand, the cut crystal whiskey glass cool to the touch, despite the growing warmth in the room. The whiskey stone at least kept the glass from sweating. Thomas hated to think what they would charge him for leaving rings on the table.

The sudden change of lighting cast the room in a different kind of darkness, a cooler kind of darkness that was washed out with the golden light of the streetlights being filtered in behind the linen curtains hanging over the windows.

In the low light, the tail lights of a passing car catches against James’ belt buckle in a flash of red light. Thomas was not in any mood to be stopping for red lights right now. So he throws caution to the wind.

“How about we take this upstairs, lamb? I think I’m ready to call it a night.”

#ch: thomas #polyfacetious | james #v: expats row #queued #carlota's christmas drabbles

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sagesparrow394 · 5 years

Text

A Big Problem: Part 1

Fandom: Sanders Sides

AU: Canon-verse, but when Thomas was a child.

Relationships: None. They’re seven.

Summary: Logan was the first side to figure out they could shapeshift. And, being the curious side he is, he doesn’t hesitate in trying it out.

Things don’t go quite to plan.

Note: ‘Romulus’ in this story is the King, aka Roman and Remus before the split.

—————

Logan didn’t know whether to cheer or go to a wall and slam his head into it in frustration. How on earth had he not come to the conclusion earlier? Seven years of existing and only now he realised this huge ability that was so painfully obvious! He was supposed to be smart!

... Then again, he was still the first side to figure this out. So, he was still the smartest, as he would always be. Clearly, he wore a lab coat. And he wanted to get a tie when he was older. Only serious smart people wore ties.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand! Logan smiled at his notepad, where the revelation was written out in big bold letters, underlined three times, and highlighted.

Shapeshifting. The sides could shapeshift. They were all effectively imaginary, after all. Since they did not adhere to human logic, it would make sense they’d be able to manipulate and change their forms.

Hold on... if they were imaginary, and Romulus was creativity and ruled the imagination... did that mean... Romulus created them all? Romulus created himself?! But how could he create himself before he existed?! How would that even work?! What the-

No! No, Logan. Don’t get yourself stuck in a paradox now. There was an important matter at hand that needed his focus. You could reevaluate your existence later.

Shapeshifting, it still baffled him how he hadn’t come up with it sooner. Patton and Romulus would get so excited when Logan told them about this! Escpecially Romulus. When he found out he could shapeshift into whatever he wanted while on his quests in the imagination, he’d get so excited! Logan would be praised for his findings!

Finally, the recognition the logical side deserved!

Logan stood up, picking up his notebook, and went to leave the room. However, as he placed his hand upon the door handle, he paused.

No... No. He couldn’t go out there and tell them yet! Logan had done enough experiments to know that, well, you needed to do experiments. You must test out your hypothesis before telling others, in case you’re wrong and you end up spreading misinformation - but Logan was never wrong, he needn’t worry about that. The other issue about not experimenting however... Logan had much more experience with.

If you don’t experiment, no one will believe you because you have no evidence. Specifically Romulus. The King was fond of finding holes in Logan’s little test and tearing them down. He was strange... One minute, he’d be reading Logan and Patton fairytales from one of his many books, and the next he’d be making jokes a seven year old should not understand to gross out Patton, and yell at Logan for being a dork - not as in nerd, as in whale penis.

Romulus was an interesting character, one Logan may have to conduct an experiment on at a later date.

Logan placed his notebook back down on his desk. He flicked to a clean page, ready to record the results of his current experiment. Speaking of, what was he going to do for his experiment...?

He went over to his mirror, looking at his reflection. Hm... if there was one thing he could change about himself, what would it be...? It couldn’t be anything too drastic, he didn’t want to risk it going horribly wrong, or the change being irreversible. Just a subtle, yet noticeable change...

That was when it hit him. His height! Logan was the shortest of all the sides, and Romulus always made fun of him for it. Adding a couple inches to his height would be perfect!

He went back to his notebook, jotting down his current height: 3’7”. He then got out a measuring tape from one of the drawers in his desk, and stuck it to the wall. He stood up against it, double checking his current height. Yep. Still 3’7”.

This was it. Shapeshifting time!

He closed his eyes and concentrated hard. Bigger. Taller. That’s what he needed to be. Taller, taller than all the other sides so that none of them could make fun of him again.

He took a deep breath. Please have worked, please have worked...

He opened his eyes and a grin spread across his face. His jeans looked considerably shorter, his shirt had ridden up a bit, showing his belly button, his white lab coat was far too short at the sleeves, and when he looked at the measuring tape, he was just under a foot taller. Perfect!

At least that’s what he thought until his saw his eyeline was still rising. He was still growing. He was definitely the tallest out of all the sides now, he really didn’t need to keep going...

“Um... o-okay, body, you can stop growing now!”

It didn’t stop.

He hesitated, concerned, before feeling stupid. Telling himself to stop wouldn’t work, of course not! He just needed to do what he did to start growing. He closed his eyes, concentrating as he did before. Stop growing, stop growing, stop growing...

When he opened his eyes, he let out a sigh of relief. He had stopped...

For about two seconds, before with a jolt, he shot up another foot, and then continued to grow at a faster pace than before. He was sooner even taller than an average adult, and it showed no signs of slowing down.

Uh oh.

Logan whimpered in fear. He had no idea what to do! Why wouldn’t it stop?! Concentrating hard was enough to start it, why wasn’t it stopping it too?!

His attention was drawn away from his own panic when there were multiple popping sounds. The buttons on Logan’s lab coat had been forcibly opened as it grew far to small for him. The buttons were followed by multiple ripping sounds, the coat falling to the floor in pieces.

Logan only got a moment to mourn his favourite item of clothing, before being distracted as his head hit the ceiling, causing him to let out a sharp “Ow!”. He ducked a little at first, before he knelt down instead, only for, a few minutes later, his head to hit the ceiling yet again.

He bent forward, in more of a fetal position, growing more and more panicked as the room became far too cramped. His foot pressed against his desk, a cracking coming from it as his foot starting to crush it. Logan was as careful as he could be, trying not to break anything else in the room, but not quite being successful. His bed was the first victim, then his bookshelf.

As the ceiling began to crack, his back pressing against it, he started to wonder if this would ever stop. What would happen if he did break through the room? Would it injure Thomas, given as it would especially be the walls of his mind breaking?! He really didn’t want to find out, as curious a person as he was...

As the ceiling continued to crack above him, Logan sniffled, tears welling in his eyes. He didn’t like this, he didn’t like it at all! He wanted to go back to normal, he didn’t want to be a giant! He never should have tried shapeshifting ever! He just wanted it to STOP!

And it did.

Right at that moment, the growing stopped completely. The cracking above his back silenced. Logan took deep breaths, trying to calm down, and patiently waited for it to start reversing. However, it didn’t do that. He was just stuck.

He started to panic again.

Virgil had no idea what the heck was going on, but he could feel panic from one of the other sides. Like, a lot. A full on panic attack.

His first idea was, obviously, to check on Thomas. He sank out from his room, rising up into Thomas’ bedroom. The boy was led on the floor, drawing, his tongue stuck out in concentration. Romulus was sat next to him, giving him all sorts of ideas.

Thomas didn’t acknowledge Virgil as he appeared, but Romulus did. The King frowned, raising an eyebrow. “Anxiety? What are you doing here? Thomas and I are kinda in the middle of creative stuff! Nothing for him to be anxious about...”

“It’s not him...” Virgil mumbled, looking around. Everything seemed normal enough... “So, you’re doing good? Not panicking?”

Romulus shrugged. “I’m fine. Why’d you ask?”

“No reason...” And with that, Virgil sunk out.

Romulus turned back to Thomas, looking over the boy’s shoulder at what he was drawing. “Um, Thomas, why is that guy bigger than all the buildings?”

Thomas just smiled. “He likes to be tall!”

“... Okay?”

Meanwhile, Virgil rose up back in his room. He ran to the next door over and knocked. “Dee!”

There was a groaning and shuffling before, a few seconds later, the door opened, a very sleepy Deceit rubbing his eyes and looking up at Virgil. “What’ssss up...?”

“Sorry to wake you, it’s just... you doing good? You weren’t, like, having a nightmare or anything?”

“No... Why, what’ssss happened...?”

“Dunno... Sorry again, see ya!”

“Ssssee ya...”

Deceit retreated back in his room, as Virgil ran off again. He continued through until he reached it: the others’ corridor. He hesitated a little before tiptoeing in. He heard the sounds of humming from the kitchen, and assumed it was Patton. He went over and stepped in the room.

Patton had his back to Virgil, and was stirring cookie batter.

“Patton?”

He let out a yelp of surprise at the voice, dropping his spoon. He turned around. “O-oh! Anxiety... Uh, what are you doing here...?”

Virgil didn’t blame Patton for being nervous. The moral side didn’t hide the fact that he didn’t exactly like Virgil’s side of the, well, sides.

“Sorry to startle you, I, um... Just felt some panicked energy... You, like, good?”

“Oh, yeah, um, sure...”

“Cool... Sorry for bothering you...”

Virgil left the room again. This just left Logan. Logan would likely either be in his room or the library. May as well check his room first.

Virgil went to the indigo door just down the corridor, knocking on it. “Logan? You in there?”

“A-Anxiety?! U-um... J-just give me a minute!”

Yep. Logan was definitely the one the panicked energy was coming from.

“Logan, I’m coming in.”

“N-no, wait!!!”

Virgil opened the door, only for it to stop halfway open. Something was in the way. Virgil frowned, and slipped through the gap.

His eyes widened immediately as his eyes met Logan’s. Logan’s giant eyes, which were in a giant head, attached to a giant body.

Logan was a giant, basically.

Virgil was speechless. Logan’s face was burning in embarrassment. “Um... one of my experiments didn’t go quite to plan...”

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides logan #roman sanders #sanders sides roman #sanders sides virgil #virgil sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides patton #remus sanders #sanders sides remus #remus and roman fusion #deceit sanders #sanders sides deceit #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #child!sides

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chibivesicle · 5 years

Text

Golden Kamuy chapters 220 & 221 - I am the bear.

I finally have a bit of a break from work and have some time off to catch up on stuff. As I had hypothesized in 219, I was pretty damn sure that Heita was the bear, the wen kamuy. Chapter 220 starts off with Asirpa trying to find the bear bum that Shiraishi and Sugimoto had seen. Sugimoto thinks that because they royally screwed up they are being punished by the white bear.

Asirpa meanwhile is just looking at him sternly while he sweats a little with stress lines under his eyes.

The next page is great as Asirpa calls Sugimoto out on his lazy cultural appropriation. She flat out tells him that using the “excuse” of a kamuy instead of taking the time to think is inappropriate. I love the framing of this shot, she looks in control, like a leader, yet not a harsh leader.

She follows up the idea of not thinking with the observation that there is no bear as there are no bear tracks.

Sugimoto then orders Shiraishi to find Vasily, though in English Vasily is referred to as “hood guy” implying that Sugimoto is too good to bother to learn his actual name. Vasily is helping them and yes, he is the enemy of my enemy (Ogata) is my friend sort of situation, but Sugimoto is supposed to be “friendly”. Not friendly enough to learn the name of a Russian soldier though. I sense this will come back to cause problems in the future. Sugimoto is clearly doing is best to other and dehumanize Vasily since if he knew his name then he’d have to more actively face his PTSD etc. I digress.

The action then returns to Heita finding his Dad and younger brother in a bear snow mound dead. He hears his brother chanting the Pure Land Buddhist chant, in hopes for salvation upon death into the after life. There are a serious of several graphic panels of the bear killing Taka as his head gets smashed by the bear paw. He finds the sexy woman of the group, Noriko and in the stress of watching her boyfriend, die, Heita tries to make out with her as she stops him right as the bear claws her face.

He manages to escape and runs into Sugimoto and Asirpa. I really love the detail between what Asirpa and Sugimoto observe and “Heitavision”. When he runs into Sugimoto, you can see that his face is clean, while the very next panel has smeared blood on Heita’s face as he tells them to run. Sugimoto with out missing a beat tells him, that we will protect you as he asks where the bear is.

Heita replies that it is not possible as the next page reveals him looking super creepy. The bear is going to eat him. It will happen. He also add is that you [Sugimoto & Asirpa] need to get far away fro him. Asirpa calmly asks him for clarification. As Heita names the people killed, Shiraishi has reached Vasily.

Shiraishi also calls him “hood guy” (hoodie-chan in Japanese, par for the course with his habit of calling everyone name-chan, save for Sugimoto). I can understand Shiraishi othering him since he did shoot him in the leg. Vasily is furiously sketching! Look at those eyes!

To build up the suspense, the action returns to Asirpa and Sugimoto with Heita as he explains everyone was eaten and Sugimoto finally realizes that something is off and he asks Heita who these people are that he’d been talking about as Heita looks like he’s in a daze.

Shiraishi is ignored by Vasily as he looks over his shoulder and has a look of panic on his face as he sees his sketch. It is a great page turn reveal as it is like BAM! Guess what, Heita was a convict from Abashiri with a tattoo, striking a sexy pose.

What is even better, is that when it shows the flashback (indicated by the black background) all of the faces have his eyes and eyebrows. This is the visual confirmation that all of these people were/are a part of Heita and his mind has killed them. It them makes his weird licky/making out face as he watched Taka and Noriko make more sense - he was making out with himself in the air.

Asirpa then in a very matter of fact fashion points out that the item that Heita is carrying in his cloth is a brow bear pelt. Even though Asirpa is clearly much shorter than Heita, the framing and angle of this shot makes her look like the wisest and most mature of the three of them. I get a feeling of not quite judgement from her, more like the clarity of a third party observer who has to clearly state the facts. Her pointing with her index finger adds weight to her observation.

Heita then is complete shot as he feels as though he is being haunted by it, despite disposing of it many times over. Sugimoto begins to look concerned as he sweats as he points out that Heita was carrying it like it as a precious item, not something he’d want to dispose of. Asirpa puts all of the pieces together, the bear bum that Sugimoto and Shiraishi saw was Heita wearing the pelt. I have to admit that I love how the pelt expands and rips the cloth as it unfurls in front of Heita as he sees it grow into the wen kamuy with his eyes before him. Asirpa concludes that this wen kamuy is in Heita’s mind only and it isn’t actually a real wen kamuy.

The wen kamuy stands before Heita on the ripped cloth at its feet. This is a great panel, I’m not keen on this story arc, but this 100% gets the point across so damn well. The next few pages are a mix of “Heitavision” and what Sugimoto and Asirpa see as the bear ‘kills’ him and he crawls under the pelt before he stands becoming the wen kamuy.

He then attacks Sugimoto with his front paw and as Sugimoto goes to block he breaks his left wrist! The chapter ends with Heita frothing at the mouth as he goes “bwooooooooh!” which is the sound effect for bears in GK.

Sugimoto has clearly been caught off guard! He needs to stop being so relaxed around former convicts, now he’s gonna have to get a cast and rest his left wrist so that it can heal, but first he’s gonna have to survive Heita.

Chapter 221 is the “bear man” and we get Heita’s backstory from Kadokura! Where have you been awkward old man? Whatever, I’m just glad to see that Kadokura and Kirawus are back in the mix.

Kadokura reveals his full name to be Heita Matsuda and he was a death row prisoner. Kirawus is relaxing in the background as he listens to the story as Kadokura is clearly a bit tipsy, he’s got a bit of a flush going on as he looks a little distant.

Kadokura remembers a lot of details about him, since he was a unique prisoner. He would constantly change the way he talked, using different forms of “I” to indicate how he wanted to present himself, including talking as though he were a sexy woman [Noriko]. This is easier to do in Japanese as depending on the speaker, it would be watashi, boku, ore etc . . . giving more info to a Japanese reader as English lacks an equivalent. The best way to think about this was in the movie “Your Name” when the characters body swap, they have to figure out which form of I to use when speaking about themselves.

Anyways, Kadokura states that Heita once told him that he has a lot of people inside of him and they switch places; this is likely an indication that he’s suffering from multiple personality disorder. I had originally thought these people were his victims, and maybe they were, but since he stated that they are inside of him, I’m more inclined to think that they are all Heita and his victims are not a part of his mental illness. The fact that Noda re-drew them with his eyes and eyebrows makes me think that they are a part of him.

Heita was always terrified, even in prison as he said there was a brown bear always outside of his cell and it was waiting to eat him. Kadokura states that Heita called it a “what-cha-ma-call-it” kamuy, implying he didn’t put a lot of effort into remember exactly what he said. He had to add in the fact that it was an evil got that ate people so Kirawus has some context. Kirawus then corrects Kadokura that it is a wen kamuy. . . his facial expression looks so over Kadokura.

Poor Kirawus, he’s clearly a smart guy stuck with a drunken loser like Kadokura. Though, I really get the feeling that Kadokura is the type of man who plays dumb so he can get further along in life. I think Kirawus just needs to hang out and work with someone a little more exciting and I’m curious if Kirawus has talked to Hijikata a lot or if he has been forced to interact with Kadokura as the go between and he’d prefer to have more access to Hijikata.

I honestly think Hijikata is keeping Kirawus at a distance, he didn’t trust Wilk, he didn’t trust Kiro and I really have a feeling that Kirawus knows a lot more than he’s let on (I wrote a meta about this awhile ago). I think that even though Hijikata says he needs the help of the Ainu for his plan to work (which Tsurumi has pointed out is a ‘flaw’ about his plan) Hijikata has shown absolutely no trust in any of his Ainu partners as Ariko/Ipopote is a literal pawn between him and Tsurumi. Additionally, it shows that HIjikata has been really crap at figuring out how to work with them, he never learned Wilk’s name nor did he learn Kiro’s real name. Hijikata is just going through the motions of the logistics in his quest for the gold.

Kadokura then explains that Heita’s people in his head are slowly killed off by the wen kamuy, he then is killed by it, he becomes it and eventually he kills a person in the real world. Once that happens his body explodes and he returns to normal.

Kirawus explains that the body exploding is based on how some Ainu groups treat wen kamuy. They cut the wen kamuy into small pieces and scatter is about the landscape. While they do this, they also lecture the kamuy about what it has done and that it needs to change its actions.

Unfortunately, when Heita “explodes” he doesn’t get lectured so that is likely why he isn’t able to learn and heal from his mistake of killing people.

It is also indicated that since Heita lacked the bear pelt in jail, he was safe since the wen kamuy couldn’t kill him and he didn’t become it. He also revealed that he ended up with all of these tattoos over his body and he didn’t even know where they came from. I wonder if one of his personalities agreed to being tattooed and was hiding it from the others?

Either way, at some point in time he shared a cell with Wilk. Kadokura ends with the fact that he was arrested over a victim’s body wearing a bear pelt and he had torn apart the body and it is heavily implied he had eaten part of him. It is also clear that he had likely done this before but wasn’t caught.

The action returns to Sugimoto, hitting him with his rifle as Heita tries to bite through his winter coat. The two of them roll off an embankment into a tree as Shiraishi catches up with the picture of Heita in his hand. No Vasily though, I guess he grabbed the sketch and ran?

Sugimoto’s rifle is caught in the tree and he and Heita are grappling on the ground as he only has his right hand to fight back. As the bear, Heita is trying to scratch through Sugimoto’s clothing, likely thinking his has claws. Sugimoto is in shock a the power Heita has and he knows this is going to be a tough fight.

But Sugimoto is able to push him back with his foot and as the bear roars his eyes go white (about to kill) and he pulls out his trusty bayonet and stabs him repeatedly.

As Heita regains control of his self, his hand emerges from the bear and trips an amappo. It looks like it is about to hit Sugimoto and he leans on top of him so that it instead will kill him. Heita by grabbing onto Sugimoto is able to take the hit instead.

Heita is happy and relieved that Sugimoto fought back so well. He lead them to the amappo so that the wen kamuy wouldn’t know that he was tricking it. He goes onto explain that as a child he learned about wen kamuy and the idea of them terrified him. He then became a gold prospector and his family wasted all of the money he earned. Their greed became too much for him and he hoped that their greed would result in some sort of divine punishment.

He states that the wen kamuy killed his family. I am still unsure if his family are represented by the personalities or he was just using those people in his head as the stand in for them. The wen kamuy then ate him and then he became a wen kamuy. The framing of the next shot is interesting. Asirpa stands over his head almost deadpan. Shiraishi is very upset as you can tell he’s trying to hold back his tears. Sugimoto is sitting down cross legged cradling his broken wrist, his eyes obscured.

Sugimoto looks very emotional as he gazes down over his body. This is a soft Sugimoto, we can see the light and sparkle in his eyes as he looks quite sad and distraught. I wonder if Sugimoto is thinking of himself when he fights? Keep in mind that he’s referred to as being a demon and not human when he fights. Tsurumi was able to recognize him as a result of his demonic fighting style.

Heita thanks him for allowing him to die. And he then dies as he lays on the snow before them. This then becomes an educational warning moment for Asirpa to Sugimoto. She explains that when a wen kamuy kills someone, they rationalize it by the kamuy liking that person and taking them away with them. However, the wen kamuy is not out to punish people, and Heita did not understand the story, instead he adapted it to his Japanese mindset. Therefore, he produced an incorrect wen kamuy in himself, creating a flawed monster.

She has such a look of wisdom as she concludes that it is important that information is passed down with accuracy, if it becomes corrupted, bad things will happen. This is a strong warning to Sugimoto to not cherry pick Ainu beliefs and customs and to place them in his own Japanese cultural context. He too thought that the wen kamuy of Heita is karmic payback for what they did to the white bear.

I find it curious that Sugimoto instead ignores her statement and instead wonders if he became the wen kamuy in the process of looking for gold? This then leads to the dramatic final panel of the major parties in the quest for the gold and the idea that it is driving everyone to madness.

The game is afoot. Each group is around Hokkaido.

Ogata is leaving Nagakura’s relative’s house where Hijikata was working out of for some time as shown in chapter 20. I’m going to guess no one was at Nagakura’s place as Ogata seems to be leaving it rather pleased. He’s got his happy cat face on. Seeing that Hijikata robbed the bank and had weapons stored there, Ogata grabbed some cash and clips for the type 30/38 he has.

The major question is if anyone was around - Kadokura is with Kirawus somewhere, likely near Kirawus’ kotan, Hijikata was near Noboribetsu with Kantarou and Nagakura.

Hijikata is currently shown on a street in Otaru, matching this one from chapter 98. Not sure why he’s in Otaru, likely waiting for Asirpa to head back home since her grandma and her home kotan are close by.

Lastly, Tsurumi appears to be in Barato, by looking at the mountain ridge line with houses in the foreground from chapter 59 most clearly.

Why Tsurumi is in Barato is interesting - I wonder if he’s looking for witnesses from the shoot out and for information about the skin that Hijikata got from Ogata?

It looks like the factions are closing in on Asirpa’s kotan and the area where the gold is supposed to be. Recall that Wilk was caught when his canoe capsized on Lake Shikotsu, and it is a rumor that he had some gold with him to make it sound more reasonable.

But there is the oral story that Huci explains about why there is so much gold in the first place. The collection of gold, polluted the rivers and the salmon were not doing their runs. As the salmon were essential to survival the Ainu leaders had to decide what to do.

All of the gold was put in one place and hidden so that people wouldn’t fight over it and it was also agreed to stop collecting it for the salmon. There was a moratorium on speaking about the gold and eventually each village had only a single elder who knew of the gold. The overall concept was that the gold should eventually become forgetten.

This was how they figured out the amount of gold is much more than what Wilk told the tattooed prisoners. With everyone back in the area of Otaru it is clear that the parties are starting to look for intel toward the gold.

Lastly, this shows that there are 4 factions; 1). Asirpa and Sugimoto, 2.) Tsurumi, 3.) Hijikata and 4.) Ogata.

I think this fits in with the chapter 201 title page and Ogata will act as his own faction. I’m curious to see if he continues to be a solo wildcat or if he will emerge to lead others?

Is Tanigaki going to team up with Koito and Tsukishima? Will these guys end up working under Ogata? Sugimoto and Tsurumi are rivals. Asirpa and Sofia are likely to become allies. Hijikata had Shiraishi working with him before, will he be forced to work for him again? I really wonder if Ogata will take advantage of commanding Koito and Tsukishima as Koito is now in doubt of Tsurumi and Tanigaki refused to follow Kikuta’s orders. Will another rebel group form in the 27th?

Whatever happens - Ogata’s emergence as a leader will continue to make things interesting. There is too much evidence now that he’s playing his own long game. Whatever it is.

#golden kamuy #golden kamuy meta #sugimoto saichi #asirpa #shiraishi yoshitake #kadokura #kirawus #tsurumi tokushirou #hijikata toshizo #nagakura shinpachi #ogata hyakunosuke #vasily #wen kamuy

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