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vespertine-legacy · 4 years

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Spirit of Vengeance Walkthrough

Welcome to my (hot-mess) attempt at a walkthrough of the Spirit of Vengeance flashpoint.

This walkthrough will mostly pertain to Story Mode difficulty, as I have yet to run Veteran or Master mode (hoping to get some guildmates to run it with me once they’ve gotten through the story content), but my expectation is that they’re mostly just harder mobs and no kolto stations in Master.

Obviously, there will be spoilers ahead for the 6.2 flashpoint.

If you do Solo-Story mode (the Cinematic Story version where you have the default companion, thankfully now set at influence level 25 instead of 1), you’ll notice that this default companion is ranged. That’s probably a hint as to the type of companion you might want to bring with you on the other difficulty levels. It seems that, as the name implies, you cannot bring group members into solo-story mode, so hopefully in that mode, you won’t encounter too many bugs or issues. Story mode has been stealth patched some to not be too terrible, but lots of players are still having difficulty and running into glitches.

One of the biggest themes of this flashpoint is that there are a lot of mobs. It’s been compared to an uprising, but there are bigger breaks between mobs. Though it is really easy to get the 75, 150, and 300 kills achievements for Varad, Dar’manda, and Ash’ad.

You start out on the Champion’s Glory, and when you run down the hallway, you run right into a Varad mob. You can stick along the right-hand-side wall to not immediately trigger them if you want. In Varad mobs, Bloodsworn are healers, Beskaryc are standard silvers, Hulks are standard golds with a decently nasty knockback, and Hounds are their puppies (you’ve seen them before in Mandalorian Raiders). Nothing much to watch out for with them. There’s one Bloodsworn in the first mob in the room who likes to glitch and be stuck up on a pillar where you can’t target him and can only reach him with AOEs.

Before you leave the first room, there is a Relic for the Relic Hunter achievements here. On one of the tables in the north east corner, you’ll find the Heirloom Varad Warstaff. However, it may be glitchy, and it may not show up. I took my Jedi Knight and my Trooper into the room four times each and it never showed up, but my Bounty Hunter got it on the first try. (The Relics will not be visible in my screenshots since I’ve already collected them, but I’d like to give an idea of location).

Continuing down the hallway, you’ll encounter some more mobs, and you’ll see your first kolto station. You’ll probably use these in at least one of the boss fights.

After fighting a biggish mob in the final room, you’ll see a big blue console to disable the first boarding tether. Before clicking it, make note of the three kolto stations around the room, since you may end up needing at least one of them. Disabling the tether summons the first boss, Gorga Brak. He has almost 3 million health, which is maybe a little absurd, but he’s not really thaaaaaaat bad, you’re just in for a long, boring fight. He does Full Auto, Flame Sweep, and Fire Bomb. Remember when I said you might want a ranged companion? Don’t quote me on this, but I think he’s less likely to put the Fire Bomb on a ranged companion. Also I thought for a while that Fire Bomb couldn’t be interrupted, but then I was able to interrupt one of them, so I’m not sure anymore. Maybe you can only interrupt it if it’s targeting you? You can interrupt Flame Sweet and Full Auto, both of which are kind of annoying. Anyway, depending on your dps output, [Spongebob Narrator voice] Several Minutes Later, you will kill Gorga Brak. On to the next ship by clicking a panel by one of the boarding pods in the next room.

Now you’re on the Dar’manda ship, the Fortune’s Folly, and everything is on fire. Fire bad. As soon as you move, a mob runs in. At least the Dar’manda have the decency for the healers to be labeled “medics.” Commit war crimes and kill the medics first. Next on your kill list should be specialists because they throw some grenades and Fire Bombs and shit that are just annoying.

In the room with the big holes in the floor, just stick to the right-hand-side in order to do the least jumping and potential falling. Turn off sprint if you’re worried. Your companion may just leap to their death because companions Be Like That sometimes, but there’s a platform at the end with a med droid where you can re-summon them. There is a lore item on the south side of the room before you go across, a little datapad.

After crossing the Gaps of Doom, you’ll start seeing yellow NPC nametags for War Profiteers and Dancers. Try not to kill any of them, because if you manage not to, you’ll get an achievement (alternatively, try to kill all of them, maybe there’s an achievement for killing all of the innocent [read, “innocent”] bystanders on the Dar’manda ship). You’ll have to be carefully with AOEs and DOTs, because my pyrotech’s scorch jumped to a LOT of yellows…

The next room has a lot of enemies and a lot of yellows, so depending on how much you want the Mercy achievement, be careful. On your way out of the room, be sure to grab the Flask of Aged Kri’gee from the floor beside one of the benches by the door on the east side for the Dar’manda Relic.

When you get to the Officer’s Quarters, you can pick up the Bonus Mission. If you go into the little side rooms, on the south, there are some biggish mobs there, but there are also two blue crates to click by some of the beds which have keys in them, which gives you the bonus mission Goldie’s Locks. This is for the bonus mission to fight Goldie, a Rancor the Dar’manda are transporting. You might as well pick it up, because even if you don’t pick up the keys, getting too close to Goldie’s cage starts the fight with her, and she’ll be able to kill you but you won’t be able to damage her (features, amiright?).

The room with the second boarding tether has a largish mob and Goldie. Depending on your class, your companion, and your armor rating, you may end up needing one of the kolto stations in the room, but if you do, be very careful that you don’t run close to Goldie’s cage, or you will engage the fight with her, which you’ll have to /stuck out of most likely because her cage door will still be closed and you won’t be able to open it to fight her, but she’ll still be able to kill the shit out of you.

The fight with Goldie is relatively simple. She’s like most of the other Rancor fights--think of the Rancor in the Battle of Rishi or Karagga’s Palace if you’re familiar with either of those. She does an alley attack that you can step out of, but a conal attack that whoever she is targeting has to just eat because it can’t be interrupted, so just point it away from the group (it’s a knockback, but it’s not awful. Her slam isn’t as bad as Bonethrasher’s slam. If you’re on a more mobile dps class, she’ll be a piece of cake. If you have to stand still to do your dps, you may get a little annoyed by her, but it’s not too bad (sorry, snipers and slingers).

There’s also a datapad with lore in the room with Goldie:

On to your next boss fight! Bask Sunn got stealth-nerfed some, but is still a little glitchy (can apparently punch you off the ship entirely according to one report?). Most people’s tactic is to kill his adds first, then take him out. I’ll say though, on my pyrotech, I just put a scorch on each of the four adds, then kicked his ass in about seven seconds, then took out the adds (and on my lightning sorc, I also just focused the boss, doing some AOE damage to the adds, but mostly just burning Bask). So, it’s really up to you. The adds don’t do a whole lot of damage, but they’re annoying, and while they did lower the damage Bask Sunn can do, he can still knock your health down a lot, so I found it easier to just Burn Him (literally, in the case of my PT). My PT was being healed by a level 1 influence Shae Vizla and my sorc was being healed by a level 50 influence Ginx, and both had a great time with just burning the boss, but your mileage may vary on this fight.

For a good time, there are a ton of places you can stand on the bridge and be in the Skybox as I like to call it and just look out into space. When you’re done goofing off, click the panel to go to the Ash’ad ship.

Welcome to the Seeker’s Vigil. In the Ash’ad mobs that greet you, Lorekeepers are healers, and Seekers have an attack called “Surge” with a box that looks like it ought to be a knockback, but either I killed them too quick or it doesn’t actually do shit, so those are your priority targets. Maybe on Veteran and Master step out of it, just in case.

In the “Archives” level of the Seeker’s Vigil, straight west from the door you come out of, there’s a bench with a little toy tauntaun Lore Item on it.

There’s some mobs in the middle of the room that aren’t too bad. Then, if you have a self-yeet to enemy target (Warrior/Knight Force Charge/Force Leap; Powertech/Vanguard Jet Charge/Storm; Assassin/Shadow Phantom Stride/Shadow Stride, but those may be unreliable just because they sometimes like to mess with you when you’re changing elevation; Operative/Scoundrel Holotraverse/Trick Move, similarly may not work since you’ll be changing elevation) you can go upstairs to the Lorekeepers. You can’t get around the debris on the ramp to get up there, you have to yeet up to them (or if you’re in a group and someone else can yeet to them, and then you’ve got a Yeet to Friend, or someone’s got a yoink, etc.), but there’s some cool stuff to look at up there. There isn’t anything to collect that I could find, but just neat stuff to look at.

Next up is The Trap. Don’t run willy nilly into this room. There are lore objects on either side of the room, but there are also two Annoying Snipers on the other end of the room who will engage with you as soon as you run in. You can’t hurt them and you can’t yeet to them, so don’t bother. There are plenty of things you can take cover behind, so run over to the lore objects and click them while you’re not being sniped. The snipe interrupts the “cast” on collecting the lore, so time your click carefully, or prepare to be annoyed. Then, run into the trap, because like I said, you can’t fight the snipers. I’ve placed markers of where the floor will fall. Depending on your graphics settings, it’s pretty obvious when the floor is going to fall out from under you, but just in case. It’s also approximately the edge of where the snipers would be in range of most attacks if your attacks would actually work.

If the fall hurts you too much, you can run up the ramp and hide behind some shipping crates for a bit to get out of range of the tentacles for a moment.

The Ash’ad Relic, the Ajak Genealogical Datacron, is in the boss room of this ship. It’s on a crate behind the boss (south east end of the boss, behind the tether controls). It’s pretty easy to miss, so don’t forget to grab it before you leave. You can run over and grab it before engaging the boss if you keep to the edge of the room.

Troya Ajak is a pretty easy fight. Songbird’s Volley knocks you back when it goes off. Pick Off (which I definitely read as “fuck off” while it was casting) blows you up a little when it goes off. I don’t even know if either of these are interruptable, because this was a pretty straightforward “get the boss’s HP to zero before they get your HP to zero” fight.

All righty. Almost done! Now you get some mobs that are mixed groups of all the clans you’ve fought so far. Remember the healers are: Varad Bloodsworn, Dar’manda Medics, and Ash’ad Lorekeepers, so if you see them, they need to go first. The ones that do special ouchie attacks are Dar’manda Specialists and Ash’ad Sharpshooters (honestly the Varad suck and we’ve known this since Mandalorian Raiders; you tried, gold star for effort). The rest of them, just kill them when you can. On to the boss!

Heta Kol will come down and fight you for a little while, then she’ll get buttmad and fly off while some adds come to the door. If you’re ranged, go ahead and stay on the platform to take them out. If you’re melee try to draw them into the room. Some have said that what resets her health when she comes back down is you leaving the room to fight the adds (but the adds like to run back into the hallway, and if you don’t have ranged attacks or a taunt, you might have to chase them; now might be a good time for your saber throws, your grenades, whatever your longest-range attack is).

The second wave of attacks does bring down Sharpshooters (aka snipers) on the platform, so if you’re focusing on the hallway adds and getting confused as to why your HP is still dropping, try turning around, because there may still be someone sniping you. Her move “Lockdown” can be interrupted, and if you don’t interrupt it, you’ll be dropping red circles from it that you want to stay out of. She throws grenades at someone in the last phase, and it seems to be whoever is closest to her (hello, ranged companion!), and it doesn’t seem like you can cleanse them off (or maybe you can, but then you need to, you know, get out of the circle it drops, and companions are too dumb to do that).

Overall, not a terrible flashpoint, just a little on the long side, and a lot to take in. I’m still excited to try it on the harder difficulty modes, and to find all of the hidden achievements, which there seem to be several spots for.

#swtor 6.2 #swtor 6.2 spoilers #spirit of vengeance #spirit of vengeance spoilers #spirit of vengeance walkthrough #swtor #november plays swtor

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lunarthedragon · 5 years

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Demon!Jaskier Part 2

Part 1: here

+++

He had been so many things in his past. So many iterations and forms. So many bodies and lives.

A boy with bones so fragile he needs braces to walk, but who never dies. Never dies. Never dies. His smile bringing joy to his small village.

A girl, deaf, who is shunned by her family but taken in by the sirens that cannot sway her with their songs. She is vengeance on the tide, her hands louder than her tongue.

A man filled with anger - at the world, people, himself - who sets into motion some of the most gruesome wars known to man.

A woman with thunder in her steps, mighty and heroic, wearing armor forged by poor workers and wielding a damaged sword she found lodged in her father’s ribcage.

An elf who slips along the blood-drenched fields, washed with the screams of his people, delivering mercy upon the suffering and as his tears mix with the blood.

So many lives. So many timelines. So many worlds.

Nothing ever looks the same, feels the same, but it is always him-her-they. Returning and returning, wanting to live and learn and grow in a way his brethren refuse to.

He will be better.

+++

Sometimes, when people want to get at Geralt, they choose the cowardly method of going after his bard. They believe him to be an easier target and hope for an easy prize.

Geralt always worries, even though he never says it. Jaskier can feel it, wafting off of him as he charges into the temporary prison and sees the dead bandits-mercenaries-fools already strewn across the ground.

Over the years the Witcher has learned and accepted that Jaskier has a profound talent for getting into trouble, but also getting out of it.

Still he worries.

Even when he knows of Jaskier’s true nature.

A group of bandits abscond with him to their camp, set to bribe the Witcher.

The night has barely fallen when Jaskier runs into Geralt on his way out of the bandit camp, blood smeared over his hands and face, yet his clothes miraculously untouched.

“Are you okay?” Geralt still demands, reeking of concern.

“They tore one of the buttons out of my doublet. How do you think I am doing?” Jaskier grumbles, ignoring the concern, even though it makes him feel all warm inside. Like the shadows are stretching with a brighter sun. Like some of the darkness boils back.

It is a good warm.

He does not need worrying, though. He does not need rescuing. He has been a damsel before, but he has never been in distress.

Still... it can be a little nice... on occasion.

+++

Jaskier tells Geralt some of his own stories.

His words have been prettied and empty for so many years, the occasional story bracketed from when “Jaskier” began and the present.

Now, he tells Geralt anything and everything. Of worlds far beyond his own. Places hidden away unless you know where to look. History long forgotten.

Geralt pretends not to listen, but his awareness is firmly planted on Jaskier when he talks of these things. It appears these stories can even intrigue a grumpy, old Witcher.

“The monsters in your song,” Geralt suddenly cuts in one night when Jaskier is recounting his life as Damalt, a “Wastelander” from far, far away many years ago, where he hunted monsters not unlike a Witcher. “I said they didn’t exist, but...”

The Witcher looked deep in thought and it takes Jaskier a moment to realize he is talking about when they first met. “You were not incorrect,” he assures, smiling, “They do not exist... in this world. Alas, I occasionally get my histories jumbled up when high on adrenaline. Terrible habit, that.”

“It must happen often, then,” Geralt huffs. His pride is wounded. He is meant to be the monster expert, and yet...

“I often call out the wrong name in bed,” Jaskier replies with a shrug.

“That’s hardly terrible,” Geralt’s lips twist and a brow arches.

Jaskier shrugs. “Sure, unless you say it like, ‘G̸͙̅̀Ŕ̸̠̖ḥ̶̀͋h̸̘́K̸̥̇͒̐͛͋͗̏b̶̥͕̠̪͉͛̆ą̶̘͈̟̼̰̟̓̌̀̐T̶̝̠̙̍̽̈́̄̈́C̶̥̫̝͐̄͋́̏̀ḧ̶͍̟̟̠̫̎́̇̈́h̸̬̅́Á̸̬̱͎̗̓̃͂̇͊͠L̴͕̗͛̀̓̔̾̂̈́ͅ.’”

Geralt has leant back as if smacked, his eyes so wide the whites are visible all around his irises, and his mouth is hanging open.

It makes Jaskier laugh for five minutes straight.

+++

He cannot eat salt. It will not kill him, but it causes the closest thing to an allergic reaction in him that he could ever have.

It burns where it touches tongue or skin or organs or bone. He feels it deeper than the flesh, the body, and he writhes, like a black, foaming slug. It makes him screech but no one hears, air running cold until icicles form but no one shivers, a chittering vibration that sets ears bleeding but no one cares.

He cannot eat salt.

+++

The thing in the mansion is ancient. Almost as ancient as him. He can hear it long before the mansion - dilapidated, abandoned, hopeless, taken back by nature - comes into view.

Geralt doesn’t hear it. He keeps walking, looking out for the monster on the contract.

The monster is gone, if it was ever here to begin with. Dead, dead, dead. Like the air and the earth and the sea. Dead but ancient and crawling without moving.

And Geralt doesn’t hear it.

“We shouldn’t go closer,” Jaskier finally says - voice not-quite-right at the edges, like a burning photo - because Geralt knows. Knows what he is. Accepted what he is. It is fine to speak up and protect that which he holds dear. That which he cares for more than he should.

Geralt is looking at him now, confusion in his eyes, and he wishes he could put into words that they need to stay away from that mansion because the thing inside will be the Witcher’s undoing.

He can move on, find a new body, find a new life, but the flesh bodies with the fleshier souls of mortals do not have that privilege. And he quite likes this particular mortal.

“What’s wrong?” Geralt asks, voice low, stepping towards Jaskier as if to protect.

“E̴v̵e̶r̴y̷t̵h̷i̶n̴g̸,” his voice twitches around something too big and forces it back down. “It will kill you. You need to get away.”

“Is it a spirit of some kind?” Geralt asks, his face set in concern. Jaskier offers a nod. “Is it like you?” Jaskier opens his mouth to reply and it rushes out.

“Me but not - screaming where I whisper - the fly in your soup the fly on a corpse - bear trap on your leg gnaw it off gnaw it off - viscera from an eye split in half - war as bloody as birth - ”

Geralt grabs ahold of his arms and drags him away, sprinting in the opposite direction as the mansion, and Jaskier has never sensed fear on the Witcher like he does in that moment.

They don’t return to the town they came from. They never completed the contract. There was no monster to kill.

Instead, in complete silence, they make camp and Jaskier curls up tight to Geralt’s side under a thick fur. If he shakes a little, drained from a battle that never happened, Geralt doesn’t say a word and only holds him closer.

+++

Djinn are an ancient spirit as much as Jaskier is. Not horrors, but rather entities. Embodiments. Powerful and feared and unable to flee from the imprisonments of man.

They hate the things that Jaskier is. Envious of him and his brethren. They are not as ancient as he, but they possess powers long forgotten.

Jaskier should have stopped things sooner. “I can’t sleep,” Geralt had said as he fished for a djinn. Jaskier had seen the problem, seen the issue, knew the outcome, and he should have just stepped in forced a stop.

Instead, he tried to talk Geralt down. Claim a lovely cup of chamomile tea with honey and whiskey would do the trick! Perhaps a back rub to sweeten the deal? Just please get away from the water. Please.

It doesn’t work and the jug in Geralt’s hands sends Jaskier into a panic, shooting out to grab ahold of it and tugging. Geralt doesn’t let go. Just glares at him.

“Seriously, Geralt, you’re being ridiculous! This isn’t going to help you. They’ll trick you and put you to sleep for good, never to rise again. How can you not see--”

The jug opens with a “pop!” The engraved lid in Geralt’s hand, jug in Jaskier's, and he can FEEL the energies around them shift. Compress. Tug and squeeze until it is hard for him to breathe.

“Nothing happened,” Geralt growls to himself, looking around, growing more and more frustrated, but Jaskier’s attention is glued to the surface of the lake. There is a shadow there that hasn’t taken form. Watching without eyes. Laughing without lips.

A djinn’s aura is not a scream or a cry. It is a vibration. A roll of thunder and the long, belting roar of a giant.

They stare at each other, through eyes beyond this plain. Eyes that see each other for what they truly are. Wind is picking up, actual wind, the sky darkening, and with the first bolt of lightning the djinn attacks.

He screeches, unholy and enraged, as claws-talons-teeth, dig into the parts of him that go unseen. Black veins form on his body, growing and growing and growing, hands and eyes pitch black as he lashes back. A piece of him catches on a piece of them, rendering-cutting-ripping, until lightning flashes above like a scream. Like a scar.

Black oozes from his mouth with the next clash, veins surging along his face, his stomach, his legs, everywhere. His hands are grasping without moving - so many hands, too many hands - and he tears the djinn in two, flinging it away, but a bolt of lightning like a blade severs an arm. A leg. There’s a hole in his chest that bleeds black.

He hears a voice, deep and frantic in a way he isn’t used to. Terrified. He’s not meant to be terrified. Not for Jaskier. He...

“Stop!” Geralt yells out, loud as the storm, and time holds still. The djinn is still there, present, hovering, deliberating, before it pulls back and away with a thin smile despite having no lips.

Ah. Geralt has the wishes.

Isn’t that lovely?

“Jaskier,” Geralt says, sounding desperate and too close and Jaskier looks to his side to find he is laying on his back and Geralt is kneeling beside him. He looks horrified, his emotions apparently so sudden and strong he is unable to hold them in.

“Hi,” he says, black blood gurgling out with the word, smiling in such a way his dark eyes crinkle. He doesn’t think it puts Geralt at ease, though, with the way he seems to flicker. Stutter. Then lurch forward like he wants to hold Jaskier but stops himself short.

“You’re... you...” Geralt isn’t one for words, but when he does talk he doesn’t usually stutter. Jaskier doesn’t like this.

“Djinn and demons like me do not get along,” he offers. He feels tight in his skin, too much wanting to leak out. To crack more of his skin and ooze free. Fill the air. Fill the world. Fill everything.

He holds it in, but he can feel more of his body turning dark with more and more veins. The hole in his chest hurts.

“Could you pass me my arm and leg, please?” he asks kindly and, apparently too shocked to argue or question, the Witcher lurches sideways to scoop up the severed limbs. He hands them over and Jaskier takes them gratefully, before setting his arm to the bleeding stump.

It stinks, like rotten eggs, and Geralt’s nose wrinkles up but he doesn’t move away. Jaskier wonders if he’s in shock.

The limb knits back onto his body, slower than usual, but not unexpected for a wound like this. He does the same to his leg, pleased to have all four limbs back, less of himself wanting to leak out. He is still covered in black veins, though, with dark eyes.

Still, he turns to Geralt, who looks lost. He reaches out to lay a hand against Geralt’s cheek, the Witcher flinching but then pressing back into his palm. “See? I am fine. Death means very little to me,” he assures, his voice still full, like he has too many teeth-tongues-throats, but far more normal than it once was.

“You have a hole in your chest,” Geralt says lowly, seeming unable to speak much higher. Jaskier tries to think about what this must be like from Geralt’s perspective. His only friend, a demon of unknown power, changing horrifically and having a fight with an invisible force. Then, being torn apart before his very eyes...

Yes, perhaps this response was a bit more understanding...

“It will heal,” he says, but looks down at the hole, black blood gushing from it still, coating his front and back. He hadn’t gotten that from a bolt of lightning. This was a cursed wound.

Not enough to kill something like him, but enough to be a nuisance.

“I may abandon this body,” he considers aloud, “Find a new host. This will take years to heal.”

“No,” Geralt says suddenly, moving forward and grabbing Jaskier’s shoulders. “No. Tell me how to help. This is my doing--”

“This is not your doing,” Jaskier says, head tilting.

“I should have listened.”

“You should have,” he agrees, “But this is still not your doing.”

“Just...” Geralt looks down and away, avoiding eye contact. Jaskier still tries to catch his gaze anyway. “Tell me what I can do...”

“It is a magical wound,” he begins and brings a hand up to run his knuckles over Geralt’s jaw. It is so close and vulnerable, he can’t help it. “It needs magical treatment so that I might do the rest. I sense a sorceress in Rinde, the next town over. Powerful.”

Geralt looks up, listening intently. His face is set again, under control as it usually is, and his eyes are determined. He nods. “To Rinde,” he says as he stands and carefully urges Jaskier up, too.

There is a sense of vertigo upon standing and the black veins flair, spreading then receding. He feels disoriented, deep to the core. Perhaps the cursed wound was doing more to him than he thought.

“I think...” he begins slowly as Geralt leads him towards Roach, who is far enough away not to be spooked by the fight, but close enough to still be within sight. Geralt has a firm hand on his closest arm and the other arm wrapped around Jaskier’s shoulders, trying to support him.

“I think I need to pass out, now.” And he goes down to the sound of Geralt’s worried exclamation, the world blurring until it is void. It is nothing. It is all.

+++

Definitely gonna make a part 3! Also likely to put them all together, eventually, and put them on Ao3 later! Tell me what y’all think!!

Tagged users that commented on part one: @meody90 @zoeyszone @patrycjami-chan @emthegiantnerd @onelonelyforgottenbiscuit

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #jaskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #geraskier #demon jaskier #nonhuman jaskier #fanfic #part 2

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years

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The Mettle Of A Man; Part Eight

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

The morale of the troops stationed at the airport seemed to have improved massively . Backhand secretly suspected that having Brandis back had raised everyone's spirits, but she wasn't about to say it out loud.

Danse had been quiet for the remainder of their journey to the Prydwen, back to thinking a hole in the proverbial wall. Vega assumed he was probably just exhausted; he had already been awake and eager to move out by the time she roused herself that morning. She couldn't blame him. His power armor was long overdue for a greasing and she knew it wasn't an easy feat to move it with sticky bearings. Danse refused to take breaks though, simply chugging along at a steady trudge that she could match with ease.

They had agreed to skip a breakfast proper in lieu of eating on the march. A few stunted mutfruit that clung to a scrubby little bush beside the lean-to made their way into their stomachs, and Danse managed to acquire a box of Saddle Up when he gave the collapsed house next to the lean-to a cursory once-over. The two of them split the contents of the box, Danse folding his portion of Salisbury steak in half and tearing a piece out of it with his teeth like it was jerky.

Backhand followed suit, though a bit slower, trying to make the tough 'meat' last. She couldn't help but daydream about yesterday's breakfast, the tender meat of the radstag tossed with the soft tatos…

Regardless of her rumbling stomach, she was glad to be back at the airport. With any luck, she'd be able to speak with Proctor Ingram and get her input on the schematics Virgil and Sturges had come up with. What was it that Nick had said?

" Just a few more steps ."

Danse touched her shoulder after they disembarked the vertibird on the flight deck. "I have to go deliver my armor to Ingram and then give Elder Maxson my report, Knight Vega. I suggest you locate Paladin Brandis so that you may retrieve your armor."

Backhand saluted him sharply, tacking on the Ad Victoriam! at the end. Danse smiled with his eyes, but his face remained stern.

"Report to the grease pit once you're finished eating, Knight. Dismissed."

"How did you know I was-?"

"If I'm hungry, I imagine you are as well." Danse reasoned, "we ate lightly this morning and it's well past noon. Go get something to eat."

"Yes sir , Paladin sir!" Backhand replied eagerly, bolting off.

Her boots clattered on the metal gangways as she strode towards the mess, ducking and dodging around armored knights and aspirants. Along the way, she heard the whispers that followed her.

" Hey wasn't that the new sister? "

" Her and Paladin Danse brought Paladin Brandis back to us! "

" I heard Knight Vega is the General of the Minutemen -"

" You're nuts , why would she join up with us if she's already in charge of somethin'? "

Backhand did her best to ignore the ever-present circulation of scuttlebutt, the young woman making her way to the canteen with sure steps.

…

Praise be to whatever God still looked after mankind, Danse found himself redirected to Knight-Captain Cade before he could even think about going to the command deck. Ingram demanded that he submit to a thorough exam after she saw the level of damage his suit bore, and Danse wasn't about to tell a proctor no. If he relayed his briefing to Cade, Danse knew he could circumvent visiting Maxson directly.

"Ah, Danse! I'd heard you were back." Cade greeted the paladin hovering in the doorway, waving him in. "What brings you here, Paladin? More troubles of the heart?" He teased.

Danse jerked to a halt.

Troubles of the heart? The words bounced around in his skull, demanding to be examined and oh God. Oh God , that's what had been wrong with him before! Danse wanted to beat his head against the wall. He hadn't been sick at all, not physically anyway. No wonder Cade had been so damned amused at all of his protesting.

He forced himself to chuckle at the joke, forced himself to keep moving. Inside though, he wanted to scream. 'Troubles of the heart'. Love , as if he deserved to be able to so much as feel that emotion! As if he deserved anything after Cutler, after the catastrophic failure of Recon Squad Gladius!

It was with panic that he thought back to that morning, to being calm and serene while he just... looked at her and...oh God no , he couldn't do this again. He wouldn't .

He shouldn't.

But…

No! Think about what happened with Cutler! Think about what Arthur will do if he perceives her as a threat! Danse raged at himself. Don't be selfish for once in your damn life, she needs the Brotherhood and the Brotherhood needs her to get into the Institute. That's all . Don't make things more complicated, damn it!

All Danse could think about was her face right after he had found her lying on the ground in a pool of her own blood at Fort Independence, the desperate way she had entreated him.

"- find my baby -"

Was she just trying to appeal to his sympathies? Danse could freely admit the compassionate nature he tried to bury had gotten him into more trouble than he would like over the years. But had she been playing the long game with that kiss at the police station? Certainly, if the Brotherhood hadn't caught their signal it would have been no skin off of her nose, she could move on to a new target. But since the Prydwen had shown up…

Had Backhand attempted to get into his good graces just so she could get a better shot at saving her son?

As much as that reality would sting, he was unable to blame her for it. Danse already knew just how far he would go for his Brotherhood brothers and sisters, he couldn't even fathom what depths he would stoop to if he was trying to rescue his theoretical child.

Cade looked up from his clipboard. "What's wrong, Paladin? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm just...tired." Danse replied lamely. "Hungry." He swiftly changed the subject. "How is Brandis?"

Cade leaned forward in his seat, unable to hide his clear interest. "I don't know how you managed to convince him to return, but he's doing remarkably well. We have him on a strengthening regiment, his body had been wracked by the radiation. Your knight surrendering her armor was a smart move."

Your knight. Danse swallowed hard. "She is thoughtful." He said cautiously. Too much praise and it would be obvious that something was afoot, but too little could also tip the scales unfavorably. He found himself maneuvering a tightrope between his usual blunt honesty and this new, strange territory.

Many of the rank and file looked up to Danse due to his combat prowess and unflinching resolve. The paladin, in turn, was not necessarily overly free with his praise, but he tended to be more generous. A leftover from slogging along under Krieg's command, if Danse had to guess. The older paladin had cultivated Danse's eagerness to please into an unflagging tenacity through methods that were occasionally viewed as barbaric, but no one could fault his results. Still though, Danse wanted to be a fair leader, not a warlord or a tyrant who brought out the best in his troops through extreme duress.

Had he been more like Krieg, maybe Gladius wouldn't have-- no , thinking that way would only drive him into a darker depression.

He realized suddenly that Cade was giving him a quizzical look and Danse tried not to let his panic show. If Cade sussed him out, Vega would no doubt be reassigned. Maybe to Brandis? Hell, she would get the old codger killed -

Cade got to his feet, asking Danse to follow his penlight with his eyes. The paladin obeyed, stifling a yawn as he did. "Still having trouble sleeping?" Cade asked calmly. "The headaches and nightmares?"

"They come and go." Danse admitted. "I rarely sleep well, sir."

"It's to be expected after everything you've gone through, Danse. You need to give yourself time , perhaps even take some leave-"

Danse was already shaking his head, his hands clenched into fists on his thighs. "With all due respect sir, there is too much at stake in the Commonwealth."

"And with even more respect, Paladin, you're working yourself into an early grave. Even earlier than you might anticipate. I'm well aware of your history and your mentality when it comes to the Brotherhood, but you need to consider the ramifications of your high-output lifestyle." Cade reasoned with a frown. "You'll burn yourself out at this rate. Hell, you might have already! Pay attention to your body, soldier. If you need to rest, then rest ." He placed a hand on Danse's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "You're no good to the Brotherhood dead, Danse."

Danse nodded stiffly down at the floor. "Understood, sir." He then began to give his field report, Cade occasionally stopping him to ask for points of clarification.

…

Ingram hummed at the terminal, her eyes darting back and forth as she read through the information that scrolled across the screen.

"Okay. Okay alright, yeah. Your friend is a genius, but he's a bit of a savant. Gotta' tell him to branch out." She mumbled, almost like she was talking to herself. "Write this down for me, manipulating a pen in this suit is a terrible time."

Backhand quickly accepted the clipboard Ingram pushed her way, hope rising in her heart as the proctor rattled off different statistics and theories about teleportation. Ingram expanded on Sturges' prior reasonings exponentially, seeming almost as excited as Backhand was at the plethora of new data to browse. Through a series of notes and ruler-lined diagrams, the proctor helped to fill in the gaps that Sturges had been struggling with.

"Of course, this is all speculation." Ingram sighed finally, sounding a little dejected. "If the Institute was really at the level of actual molecular reconstruction via relay, I get the idea that the Prydwen wouldn't still be in the air." She smiled at Backhand. "But hey, tell your friend 'thanks' from an old proctor. It was fun to think about. I don't get a lot of interesting or challenging data anymore, so this was a nice change of pace. If he ever wants to come aboard and talk shop, let me know and I'll try to get Maxson to give him a 'visitor's pass'."

Vega was flabbergasted. Ingram apparently believed that Sturges just had limitless free time on his hands to flesh out such wild theories. She didn't think that any of it was real! The young woman collected herself after a moment, trying to think up an appropriate response. "I'll--I'll definitely let him know! I'm sure having someone intelligent to bounce his ideas off of will do him wonders." She promised, returning Ingram's smile. "He tends to leave me in the dust once he really gets going."

Ingram groaned theatrically. "Ah, the burden of genius! Heavy is the head that wears the crown, you know how it is. It's times like these that I miss the hell out of Doctor Li."

"Who was Doctor Li?"

"Ah, she was one of our scientists back in the big CW. Worked on a lot of important stuff for the Brotherhood. Then one day she just kinda'-" Ingram gestured vaguely. "-went poof. Nobody ever heard from her again."

Backhand had only been half-listening as she leafed through the notes, carefully collecting them all into a neat pile and stowing them in her satchel. But at the proctor's admission that their doctor had vanished , the former Vault-dweller straightened up. She squinted at Ingram. " Poof? "

Ingram nodded. "Yep. Gone like she was never there. I personally think, after hearing about how the Institute operates, that our lead scientist got poached." She shrugged, her armor frame creaking loudly. "But that's just me. For all I know, Madison got bored."

Backhand chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. Stealing a brilliant scientist from their chief opposition made sense. But she still had no idea why the Institute would have taken her son of all people.

"Oh! Your armor, I almost forgot. Brandis had me tuck it away in bay six." Ingram said suddenly, hooking a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the bay. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some serious work ahead of me to unfuck Danse's gear. 'Outstanding', my ass ." She griped. "Man's got a death wish."

Backhand tried valiantly to choke back her laughter at Ingram's exaggerated impression of Danse's " outstanding ", but failed miserably.

"Ah, I see you too must have witnessed the fabled ' outstanding '?" Ingram chuckled. "It's his trademark, great stuff."

"I am pleased to know that you find my speech patterns amusing , Proctor Ingram." Danse's voice made Backhand squeak. The paladin sauntered up beside Ingram, still ripping apart what looked like an entire pot pie.

"Danse! I see you still can't take a breather, even if it's only to eat." Ingram remarked pointedly, rolling her eyes. "You couldn't have sat down in the mess hall, Paladin?"

"Time is of the essence, Proctor." Danse said through a mouthful of tough crust. Backhand had grabbed a slice of it when she was in the mess. The filling wasn't half bad, but whoever had made the shell had worked their dough for far too long. Obviously Danse wasn't letting that stop him.

"Danse it's gonna' take my scribes a hot minute just to get all the dents out, nevermind the greasing. Do me a favor, take your knight and go to Proctor Teagan for a new helmet." Ingram shooed the paladin off, rolling her eyes at Backhand. "A fine example for our troops, as long as they don't watch you eat ."

"They should not be watching me eat to begin with-" Danse started to protest.

" Danse . Go to Teagan."

…

Finding Paladin Brandis conversing with Teagan shouldn't have come as a surprise to Danse. After all, Brandis loved his armor and mods. It was odd to see the older paladin all cleaned up once again, the sides of his head uniformly shaved and his facial hair back to the semi-standard goatee.

"Danse!" Brandis greeted him warmly and Danse wished that he didn't have crumbs all over his jumpsuit. He was startled when the other man hauled him into a hug, slapping him on the back. "It's good to see you in one piece, Paladin! I heard about what happened with your armor. It's always a trial if you have to abandon your gear." Brandis' smile was broad but his eyes were sad.

Danse swallowed, nodding in agreement. "Are we interrupting your discussion, Paladin Brandis?"

"Not at all! I was just about to stop monopolizing Teagan's time."

"Brandis, the last thing you're doing is monopolizing." Proctor Teagan groaned, leaning his elbows on the counter. He perked up when Backhand scooted out around Danse. "New Blood! You're back in one piece!"

"Takes more than a sure-fail mission to locate a man who's been missing for over five years to stop me, Proctor Teagan." Knight Vega replied, giving him a salute as he laughed.

"Now, Danse, what's this I hear about you half-scuttling your gear?" Teagan chided the large paladin. "You're lucky we like you around here, you know that?"

Danse chuckled, nodding. "I'm well aware, Proctor. I must requisition a new helmet."

"Psh, you think I'll have one that'll fit that big head of yours? We'll have to see." Teagan ribbed him, turning away from the counter and beginning to rummage in his crates.

Danse heard the sound of small footfalls and abruptly Brandis was assaulted by one of the squires. "Paladin Brandis!" The child exclaimed, like he had just discovered the paladin.

"Yes, little one?" Brandis asked, taking the boy's cap off to ruffle his unruly blond curls. Danse caught himself wondering what young Matthew would be like as a squire. Would he be more quiet, prone to scribe work? Or would he still be mischievous, going places where he shouldn't, eventually donning a suit of power armor to defend him from the consequences of said mischief?

And Backhand's own child, her Shaun. When they rescued him, what would he be like? He assumed she must also think about that, obviously more than he would.

Danse realized belatedly that Brandis had continued his conversation with the boy, the child rattling on and on to the paladin about being allowed to feed Scribe Neriah's mole rats. Danse just barely caught Knight Vega's wistful smile before Teagan was clattering a familiar helmet down on the counter. "And here it is! One brain bucket, complete with intact searchlight." The proctor announced proudly, sliding the requisition form over for Danse to sign. "I expect you to take better care of this one, Paladin. Knight, make sure he takes better care of this one." Teagan instructed, narrowing his eyes.

Vega snapped another salute, "yes sir, Proctor sir!"

"Where are you off to now, Danse?" Brandis asked curiously, the squire still clinging to his leg.

"Well, as Knight Vega is in a probationary phase, I imagine we'll assist Scribe Neriah. Perhaps Proctor Quinlan has a job for us." Danse mused, scribbling DN-407P on the form. "I don't believe we'll be sent out with the rest of Gladius anytime soon. I ought to check in on them."

"Recon Squad Gladius returned last night, sir!" The squire informed him with a clumsy salute. "They should be at the ground barracks, sir!"

" Outstanding ." Danse said warmly, then he heard Backhand wheeze with laughter. "Oh, be quiet." He huffed, nudging her side with his elbow.

…

Danse had left her to her own devices, stating that he would be checking in on the remainder of his squadron for the evening.

" If you'd like to pick up a few small assignments, I will be happy to assist you with them as I continue to sponsor you ."

So after a brief logistical kerfuffle that found her standing in Cade's doorway instead of Quinlan's, Backhand managed to get herself assigned to the illustrious task of rustling up technical documents. "My scribes do so enjoy their reading material." Proctor Quinlan remarked, seeming amused by the way the young woman fawned over Emmett. "If you locate anything you believe could be of interest, please bring it to me. A good soldier knows that an unanticipated edge is the preferred one."

"Of course sir."

Backhand did feel just a bit guilty about using Proctor Ingram as Sturges' sounding board, but in her defense she had planned on telling the other woman the truth. It just was a little less... messy for the moment if Ingram didn't know everything.

Vega knew she could ask Codsworth about technical documents once she got back to Sanctuary. The robot hadn't left the cul-de-sac for over two hundred years; he probably had an itemized list of every thing in every house . And since the Hills had been styled as veteran housing, there was bound to be a few items of interest. Plus, it was the perfect excuse to return to Sanctuary so she could fling all of Ingram's notes at Sturges. Fingers crossed that the genius could make sense of them.

Backhand was tired of wasting time, tired of spinning her wheels. But she knew that the more she helped, the more people would be willing to help her when the time came. Having the numbers of an outfitted army on her side in case of something going wrong was an immense comfort, and it helped to soothe her worries. The familiarity of it didn't hurt either. The Minutemen were slowly becoming a force to be reckoned with, but their humble beginnings could be a bit glaring . This was the next best option.

So she'd rifle through the debris of Sanctuary Hills one more time. The required company of Danse was more of a bonus than a detriment, in her opinion. She could keep him clear of the Prydwen a lot easier when they were halfway across the world from the airport.

Ingram's words echoed in her head, not for the first time since Danse had been assigned as her sponsor.

"... Danse is a good man and he shouldn't be getting jerked around, Elder or no ."

Backhand frowned, tipping herself out from behind her armor in bay six. Her eyes landed on Danse's suit standing empty across the way as two scribes slowly coaxed the dents out of it. God, the damage had been sobering in the first place, but looking at it now was almost worse. The frame looked tired .

" That's Paladin Danse's armor?"

Backhand jumped at the whisper from beside her. She hadn't heard the squire approach. "Yup. Crazy, huh?"

"Is he...is he okay?" The little girl asked timidly, wide brown eyes staring up at Vega.

"He is! He's fine, I promise." Backhand patted the child's shoulder gently. "I helped him out, fixed him up real good."

"Okay." The girl nodded, looking thoughtful. "Paladin Brandis is okay too. That's good. He's important."

"'Important', huh?" Backhand echoed, knowing she must sound bemused. This little girl was just being so serious , like she was trying to seem more adult. It was sweet, in a sad way. A testament to the burden put on these kids at such a young age.

"Yes." The little girl puffed herself up a bit. "We need Paladin Brandis. He's important ."

"Why is he important?" Backhand queried curiously.

"We…" the squire hesitated, like she had said too much. "He just is. I can't tell you. S'a secret."

Backhand gave the child a salute, nodding. "Of course. Don't worry, I won't compromise your mission."

"W-Well, good!" She stuttered, adjusting her cap and giving Backhand a salute in return. "Ad Victoriam, knight. I gotta' go." She scampered off, leaving Backhand confused and somewhat entertained.

He's important .

As she tucked in for the night, Backhand wondered what the child had meant. Was the squire being needlessly cryptic? Maybe she had overheard something she wasn't supposed to?

Backhand stared up at the dimly-lit innards of the Prydwen, the ribs of the massive airship barely visible in the dark. Another mystery , she mused ruefully. Her return to Sanctuary couldn't come soon enough.

…

Danse was summoned to the command deck at six hundred hours the following morning. He should have known that he wouldn't even be able to enjoy the company of Haylen and Rhys without suffering some kind of consequence.

He hated how sweaty his palms were as he stood at attention, his back ramrod straight.

"Paladin Danse, I was given your briefing yesterday by Knight-Captain Cade. Is there any particular reason you didn't come to me personally?" Arthur asked, sounding almost bored. Danse might have believed it if not for the current of anger that rasped in his voice.

"Proctor Ingram sent me directly to Cade, Elder Maxson. My armor was in poor shape and she was concerned about my bodily state." The paladin replied evenly.

"Brandis showed up well before you did. Why is that, Danse?"

"Local civilians informed myself and Knight Vega of a super mutant infestation. It was during our assault on the compound that my armor took the damage. I needed time to repair-"

Danse's explanation was cut off by the sound of heavy boots on the large ladder between decks. Brandis of all people emerged from the porthole, offering Danse a quick nod before focusing his attention on Maxson. "Elder! I have a request for flight support from-"

"Brandis, how many times do I have to tell you not to interrupt me?" Arthur snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"And how many times do I have to tell you that nothing about the military is convenient or willing to wait on your long-winded tomfoolery?" Brandis retorted. "I have a knight requesting flight support, Maxson, and the presence of Paladin Danse."

"Me?" Danse asked in confusion.

Elder Maxson growled, then nodded. "Very well . I suppose your report from Cade will have to do. But in the future , Paladin Danse, I expect you in person on the command deck. Do I make myself clear?"

"Of course, Elder." Danse saluted dutifully. "Ad Victoriam." Arthur just waved him off, obviously irritated.

Once they had returned to the engineering deck, Brandis clapped Danse on the shoulder. "Sorry about that, I didn't realize that he would try for you so early!" He apologized. "Knight Vega has been rarin' since five. I know he denied you air support before, but Vega said you two have a long ways to go for the assignment she picked up from Quinlan. It's easier to get something out of that little curmudgeon if you baffle him with rapid-fire requests."

Danse sputtered, unsure if he had ever heard someone refer to the elder as a little curmudgeon . "I am glad that your respect for Elder Maxson is just as strong as ever, Paladin Brandis." He managed to say.

"Arthur has gotten too big for a combination of his britches, his father's britches, and his grandfather's britches." Brandis chuckled, "it does him good to get brought back down to earth once in a while." He straightened up, giving Danse a gentle push in the direction of the armor bay. "Now go, go go get suited up before he changes his mind!" The older paladin urged impatiently.

Danse noted when he reached the grease pit that Vega's armor was gone. Obviously she had wanted to get an early start. Danse grimaced ruefully, zipping up his jumpsuit. No matter what he did, it seemed to be the wrong thing. He wished he could go back to his bunk and try again in an hour or so.

He shook his head, then stepped into his armor. The gaskets hissed as the unit was sealed, the back plate latching down firmly. Danse picked up his new helmet, absently flipping it out of habit and then sliding it onto his head until it clicked into the gorget seal. The heads-up display flickered to life in front of his eyes, all readings nominal. Green across the board , as Lancer-Captain Kells would say.

His heavy sabatons clunking firmly on the metal catwalks, Danse made his way to the flight deck.

Backhand was there, her helmet tucked under her arm as she chatted animatedly with the pilot that ( presumably ) was taking them to their location. Danse still had no idea what their assignment was. Hell, he didn't even know if there was an assignment or if this was all just a conspiracy cooked up by Vega and Brandis to get him away from Maxson.

A combination of embarrassment and gratitude flushed Danse's face beneath his helmet. He was relatively sure that neither of them knew what was truly going on between himself and Maxson. Maybe they had assumed the worst, thought that he was being abused or something to that effect. But it wasn't... really , technically. He was following orders. Orders that made him sick to his stomach and hot with shame, but he was a Brotherhood soldier and he would do as the elder commanded him.

"Glad to see you taking initiative, Knight Vega." Danse commented loudly over the roar of the vertibird engine.

"Paladin! Good to see you bright and early. We have our heading from Proctor Quinlan, and I know just the place. This fine gal will be droppin' us off in Concord." Backhand explained and the pilot grinned, waving off the praise and gesturing for the two of them to climb aboard.

…

Backhand was practically vibrating with excitement when they finally touched down just outside of Concord. She was off and running down the main thoroughfare, leaving Danse to catch up with her.

"Knight Vega!" The paladin protested.

"Time is of the essence, Paladin!" Backhand yelled in reply, slowing briefly to a jog.

"Where are we even going , Vega?" Danse shouted. She didn't bother to answer, just making a sweeping motion with her arm as if to say hurry up! "I fail to see the strategic advantage of the two of us careening through the town like a stampede of brahmin!"

"Just follow me and stop complaining!" Backhand laughed, maintaining her pace up the hill to the Red Rocket gas station. She paused at the top, waiting for Danse to come up alongside her before she pointed across the river. "Look." She said, a little breathless.

Danse obliged, the paladin going still. "Another settlement?"

"This is where I lived before the war." Backhand informed him, "Sanctuary Hills."

Danse made a noise of acknowledgment, shifting his weight. "And the reason why we're here?" He pressed after a moment.

Backhand smiled under her helmet, patting his shoulder. "Technical documents. Not only was this little development just teeming with ex-military, if that's not good enough my vault is up the hill."

He was silent for a time and Backhand was getting a little worried that she had upset him somehow, but then out of the blue, " outstanding , Knight Vega." The warmth in his tone was unmistakable and she couldn't even bring herself to make a joke about his trademark term, too flustered by his praise to do anything aside from nod and start walking across the old bridge.

Dogmeat came galloping to greet her, the mutt barking excitedly and fawning around her legs after she ejected from her power armor. "Hey Meat! Who's a good boy? Who's the best boy?" Backhand crooned, giving him belly rubs when he begged for them.

"Ah, Miss Vega! It is, as always, a delight to have you return to us. You look well!" Codsworth bubbled, the Mister Handy breezing over to her from his usual spot maintaining the patchy hedges. "And who is this that you've brought with you? Will I need to set an extra plate at dinner?" He inquired, two out of three eyestalks gazing up at the impassive paladin.

"Codsworth, this is Paladin Danse. I hope you can help the two of us out with a little project." Backhand said seriously, tapping her forehead against the cool metal of Codsworth's third eye.

The robot sputtered, "But of course , mum! Whatever the two of you need, if there's any way at all that I might assist you, I shall do my best." He waved his appendages around, mimicking a fighting stance. "Are there more ruffians about, mum? More interlopers? Has the Red Menace finally come to our doorstep? I'll give them a thorough drubbing, just send them my way!" He said staunchly.

Backhand chuckled, shaking her head. "Nothing quite as exciting as all that, Codsworth. My friend works for a group that's dedicated to curating and preserving technology, and we were sent out expressly to find documents that might be useful. I know you've been here for a while, and I was hoping that you might-"

"Oh, if it's old, musty, suspicious documents you're after, Miss Vega, I must say you've come to the right place!" Codsworth lowered his voice conspiratorially, "why, I've got it on good faith that your neighbor was a dirty commie spy! " He sounded scandalized. "Mr. Sturges says that I am too quick to jump to conclusions, but can you even imagine-? "

"Codsy, if I told you once I told you a thousand times, don ' t you be puttin' words in my mouth!" Sturges shouted from his usual position by the workbench, giving Backhand a friendly wave. "Howdy General, how was your vacation?"

"A nightmare." Vega admitted, "Weston was infested all over again."

"Oo, that's a tough place to get a handle on. I assume you got it sorted though? I mean, you're the general for a reason." The man mused, wiping his hands off on a rag and cocking his head. "So this is the fella' from the police station? Land sakes, you didn't skimp on your description." He teased, making Backhand wince self-consciously as he sauntered over. "I know Preston's got mixed feelin's on the Brotherhood, but I figure any heavily-armored port in a radstorm, right?"

Sturges stopped in front of Danse, squinting up at the man's helmet. Danse removed it after a moment, the seal hissing and steaming a little in the cool morning air. "Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel." He intoned, extending one large gauntlet to the mechanic.

Sturges chuckled, gamely shaking the massive hand presented to him. "Sturges. I fix things. Suppose that'd be an engineer or a mechanic to you military folks."

"Speaking of fixing things..." Backhand dug into her satchel, tugging free the ream of notes she had from Ingram. "I brought you a present!" She sang, passing the incomprehensible sheaf of paper to the other man.

Sturges whistled after flipping through the first few pages, his eyebrows launching up until they were hidden by his goggles. "Damn, this is good. General, this is real good. Like, ' we might pull this off ' kinda' good!" He said giddily.

"Yeah?" Backhand replied eagerly. "Danse and I will be here for a few days, so if Jun or Marcy are busy-"

"I'll ask you, of course. Thanks for this, General. It really helps to have an extra pair of eyes lookin' over my work." Sturges drawled sincerely.

"How is Mama Murphy doing?" Vega asked, twiddling her fingers nervously.

"She got up earlier this mornin'! She came out and had her coffee with me. I'd say she's doin' better. Shorin' herself up." Sturges smiled. "We got a lifetime of chem problems to work through, y'know, so I ain't expectin' any overnight miracles."

"Yeah, I guess not." Backhand frowned. "I still wish there was more I could do."

Sturges put a hand on her arm. "You done more than enough, General. More than most folks would have. Don't worry about Mama Murphy. She's a tough ol' gal."

…

Evening fell over the settlement and Danse was grateful for the opportunity to simply rest his eyes. He knew why Quinlan had such thick glasses now. He had only dug into one box of documents and his head was still spinning from all the fine print!

Backhand yawned, eyes lidding and mouth going slack with the effort. "God, I am beat ." She confessed, laughing a little. "It's pretty sad that all it takes to get me braindead is reading about failed observations and leafing through old refrigerator manuals."

"I find the manuals miles more interesting. I've always enjoyed that sort of practical research." Danse remarked. "It has real-life applications in the field, but these other things…" he heaved a sigh. "I wish Haylen had been permitted to come along with us. She is far more adept when it comes to cataloging. I was not trained as a scribe."

"Well, I would say we should burn the midnight oil, but I'm pretty sure we've both got mush for brains right now." Vega got to her feet, taking a moment for a full-body stretch. "We can get back to this tomorrow. Right now, I'm hungry."

"Dinner will be ready in a moment, mum!" Codsworth assured from his spot just outside the front door, continuing to rotate the meat on its spit over the fire.

Danse abruptly realized that he was starving , the delicious smell of the roasting yao guai making his stomach rumble. It had been hours since they had eaten, and he had been so focused on the task at hand that he hadn't even noticed. He neatly collected the papers spread out on the floor and shuffled them all together, placing them on top of the boxes Vega had already made her way through.

Truthfully, this neighborhood had been a hotbed of observation and it made him feel a little antsy now that he didn't have the mind-numbing documents to distract him. It was foolish to be concerned about such things, Danse told himself. Anyone who might have been observing this area was long dead. It wasn't as if he and Backhand would be spirited away in the night by 'the men in suits'. Although...it was a little disconcerting to realize that those occurrences were considered normal back in the pre-war era.

Knight Vega, oblivious to his inner quandary, was digging through the rickety refrigerator. "You want a Nuka? Or a beer?" She asked.

Danse opened his mouth. Hesitated. Bought himself time by climbing upright and doing his own series of light stretches. One beer was surely acceptable in the field? Surely? He had known many a commanding officer that hadn't let their duties stop them from getting intoxicated. It had been a short eternity since he had imbibed any spirits.

Surely just one would be alright. "Beer, please."

In a motion so fluid it must have been muscle memory, Vega hooked the cap of the beer on the edge of the battered formica counter and quickly slammed it down, prying off the top with ease. "Cheers, Paladin." She tipped the bottle to him and Danse caught it around the neck, nodding his thanks before taking a long drink.

Being alone was dangerous in the field, he mused for the hundredth time, as it made him neglect his own needs. He hadn't even noticed that he was hungry or thirsty until Backhand insisted that they pause for the evening. Danse couldn't even count the amount of nights Haylen or Rhys had to force him to stop patrolling the police station so he would get some rest. It was just so easy for him to sink into a rut, a routine, ignoring everything else in favor of it.

Her own Nuka Cola received the same treatment, foaming up a little in protest. Backhand laughed, hurrying to gulp the soda down before it overflowed.

"Where will I be bunking for the evening, Knight Vega?" Yes, Danse was technically in charge, technically her sponsor, but this was her house. He wasn't so bold to presume that he would be permitted to sleep wherever he wanted.

Backhand tapped her lips with the Nuka Cola bottle as she appeared to think. "I mean, we can haul a bed into here for you? I imagine you don't want to sleep on the floor." She reasoned.

"I would rather not, if there is an available bed." Danse agreed, grimacing.

"Alright, after dinner me and Sturges can grab one of the extra beds."

"Alternatively, you can direct me to it and I can move it myself." Danse didn't mean to sound so petulant, but he hardly needed another man and his ward to accomplish a task he should be more than capable of. Backhand began to laugh, her mirth making Danse scowl self-consciously. " What? " He finally muttered.

"Nothing! Nothing at all. I will absolutely take you to the bed ." Backhand sputtered.

Danse took a moment to consider her words, and a reluctant smile disrupted his stoic expression. "Honestly Knight, you are incorrigible ." He huffed, unable to bite back his own chuckle at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Here they were, laughing like aspirants over some inadvertently ribald humor. He felt foolish, though not necessarily in a bad way. "Yes yes, Knight Vega, take me to bed." He announced, outstretching a hand to her. "Next thing you know, you'll be making jokes about sleeping together."

His heart raced when she winked at him. "We've already done that, keep up Paladin!"

Part Nine

#fallout 4 #fallout four #fallout fandom #fallout fanfic #paladin danse #paladin danse x sole survivor #paladin danse x f!sole #paladin danse/sole survivor #paladin danse imagine #brotherhood of steel #bos #bethesda #fo4 companions imagine #fo4 companions #fo4 paladin danse #video games

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vaire-gwir · 4 years

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Some Cat and Wolf fanfic I had in mind pt.5

oh look, another chapter no one asked for! For some reason this story looks like a collection of one shot poorly glued together, but technically (”if you have to use the word technically you’re already in trouble” Cit.) I know where I’m going.

I kept hinting at a very specific scar I think Aiden has, so here’s the story of that scar. Awkward love confession ensues.

All my love to everyone that reads this mess, please let me know what you think! <3

***

They were hunting a wyvern, somewhere outside Sodden. 700 crowns had been promised for the head of the beast. Well, just the poison, to be honest, but the point was that the creature had to die. It was their last job before heading north and eventually parting for winter.

They'll never get that far.

Killing any wyvern-like monster is complicated business, those fuckers are huge and sharp just about everywhere, not to mention poisonous. When they manage to dispose of the creature without any severe accident it doesn't feel right for some reason, call it Witcher senses or however you want, but things don't add up. Lambert can still hear Aiden's voice telling him that it's too many corpses for just one beast.

He grits his teeth when he hears a growl immediately followed by the sound of rustling trees and claws scraping on stone. He looks to his left at the Cat exploring the northern side of the cave and Aiden is staring right back at him, he gracefully waves a hand in the general direction of the sound and put on his best I Told You So attitude: there will be snarky remarks about this later but he kindly spares him the comments, for now.

Suddenly, there's nothing graceful about the way he tumbles to the ground, red seeping through the blue and black of his armor like sand in a child's hand. He's running to Aiden's side in a heartbeat, that's all it takes for panic to fill his system like the stench of blood fills his senses. He sees the armor pierced where the tail of the beast tore through the plates and they both know that whatever can dig through metal like that can also do an awful lot of damage to the flesh and bones underneath. Lambert already knows that something is very wrong.

He falls to the ground next to his Cat and he desperately clutches his body, catching the sweetly sick trace of poison still lingering in the air: one look at the wound is enough for his fear to spike and eat him up whole. It's too much blood even for a Witcher.

"Aiden?" Lambert's voice is shaking like his hands as he brushes a few locks of damp curls out of his lover's forehead, feeling the familiar beating sound of his heart growing even slower than usual.

Aiden blinks a couple of times, pain coursing through his entire body and stealing his breath away as he tries to speak. "That...ugly, uh?" Lambert can barely hear his whisper above the noise of the beast outside, the growling so loud it almost rivals the thumping of his own frightened heart echoing in his ears. He reaches for a vial of White Honey while he keeps an eye on the pale form in his arms.

"Just...drink this, alright? I'll...I'll fix this, I can fix this, just...hang on for me, okay?" He supports Aiden up while he helps him drink the potion, helplessness and desperation washing over him in dark waves as all he can do is stare at the blood staining his clothes and dripping to the floor. Lambert tightens his grip on the Cat's shoulders as if holding him was his only way to keep him whole, to not let him slip away from him.

He can see it on Aiden's face that it hurts to breathe, his eyes are clouded and unfocused and he feels as if a cold hand was squeezing his own heart in an iron grip.

"Lambert, you don't have to..." His whole body tenses up, green eyes go wide for a second before fluttering close against the rising pain and shock of the poison.

"Aiden?" He tentatively calls him again but there's no answer this time. Witchers may be strong and powerful, but so is the wyvern's poison, and not many live to tell the tale. An unfamiliar ache climbs inside him and he tries to blink burning tears away from his eyes as he carefully lays Aiden back down.

Lambert can hear the monster above them digging his sharp talons in the stone on the side of the mountain, and his senses are telling him to focus, to move, to prepare for the fight, but all he can do is stare at Aiden's pale complexion, too grey and ashy even for a witcher. There's a part of his mind spiraling into fear and shutting down cause Aiden could die, Aiden is wounded and he doesn't know how to fix it, he doesn't know how to help him, and why I never know how to fix anything?

He tentatively takes another look at the wound, moving the damaged pieces of the armor aside, exposing the torn blue fabric and skin underneath. The potion is reducing the blood flow but it's a slow process with a gash that deep. The broken sound of pain Aiden makes is like a punch in his guts and the only thing he has to offer in consolation is a pathetic string of whispered "I'm sorry"s.

Lambert digs through his own pack in search of clean bandages to wrap around Aiden's chest while the noise around them grows with every passing second. If the growling and screeching of the beast is any indication, it must be massive. And they unintentionally made it furious because they killed its mate.

Lambert is frantically looking around searching for shelter but he knows there's nowhere to hide in the cavern. The cave is bare except for the opening on the north, where the sharp tail came lashing out before. Going outside is out of the question, Aiden already lost too much blood and he doesn't dare to move him, but they're too exposed here.

The dark tail of the wyvern whipping out again distracts him from his panic and it's enough for him to focus on the task ahead. His only chance of saving Aiden is keeping this thing out of the cave. He is willing to make peace with the fact that this is where he dies, in a godsforsaken corner of the world where his life is worth exactly 700 crowns, but he's not ready to resign Aiden to the same fate.

Lambert cuts the rest of the blue shirt open and securely ties the bandages over the wound. Their packs are well within Aiden's reach, pouch with their potions already open for when he wakes up, if he wakes up, there should be enough White Honey for him to at least drag himself back to their horses and into town. It's a plan, it's a shitty plan, but it's his best chance at keeping the man he loves alive. It will have to be enough.

***

There's a deep ache in his bones and his left side is scraped and bruised but he wastes no time thinking about it. It was a sloppy job, not his best witcher work but it's done, and for reasons beyond his comprehension, he's still alive.

When he stumbles back into the cave and to Aiden, the Cat is barely breathing and he looks a fraction closer to death with every exhale. He can't smell any lingering traces of poison, though he's not really in the position to call it progress, considering that there's still a hole the size of his hand just beneath Aiden's ribs and he saw the white of the bone with every breath while he was bandaging him earlier. Earlier seems a lifetime ago now.

Lambert starts to slowly take off the rest of the armor, trying to jostle the unconscious Witcher as little as possible. He makes quick work of the familiar buckles and clasps he learned to know, for he has undressed him so many times before, desperate to feel the warm skin under his hands or taking his sweet time and taking him apart. Never like this though, never with the dark cloud of death looming dangerously over his head.

The only sound out of Aiden's lips is a muffled groan when he cuts the bandages open to swipe a wet cloth around the gash, and the rational side of him knows it's better if Aiden doesn't wake up in the next minutes cause cleaning and stitching a wound that size is not something anyone would want to go through awake. His rational side though is not enough to stop him from thinking the worst, and he wants nothing more than to glance into the piercing green eyes he loves once again.

He cleans the edges of the cut again before picking up the needle and thread, willing his hands to stop shaking as he starts to slowly close the wound, focusing on the repetitive moves to calm his mind. His entire self is focused on one single thought: Aiden is dying. And in rapid succession, he's everything I have.

It's not the first time he patches Aiden up. Part of the reason why they know each other's scars so well, physical and not, is because they stitched them up themselves, bruised skin and broken spirits alike. The physical ones were less complicated though, it's easier to check the progress of healing when you can see new skin blooming under an injury. Being a Witcher sped up the process by a lot, so in two days a deep claw mark across a forearm would be like new, but mutations or not, no one knows how long it takes for a damaged mind to bloom anew over the past suffering.

The night is endless, and the darkness trickles away at such a slow pace that it seems the sun forgot to rise. The Wolf doesn't even try to sleep, he sits by the fire with his back against the wall, cleaning and sharpening his swords with his eyes lost in the dancing flames.

It physically hurts him to keep staring at Aiden. He looks like he's sleeping but Lambert knows it's all wrong: it's not natural how still he is, how he doesn't even flinch once, his eyelids are not fluttering like when he's dreaming, his breathing is not regular like it should be when he's resting after a hunt or they're curling up in a patch of sunlight-warm grass, and the beating of his heart, the sound that lulled him to sleep so many times, falters in a disturbing rhythm.

Lambert doesn't remember being this scared in his entire life. Sure, there was fear during the trials, it was a different kind though, he was just a kid back then. A couple of times he came back from a job badly wounded and almost out of potions and he knew he was tiptoeing dangerously close to the end of the Path, but losing his life didn't scare him. There was not much to lose, to begin with. Sometimes it even sounded like a relief, no more Witcher bullshit, about fucking time.

But he was not the one bleeding in a cave, it was not his miserable life on the line here. This was different, he was losing something important now, something that mattered, something he needed. He couldn't lose Aiden.

There is a word for this mess inside of him, for the sharp twist in his heart he has been feeling every time he sees Aiden's crooked smile but it's out of reach for someone like him. He tried to ignore it and shove it away, pretending it was not there and acting as if they were no more than friends with the benefit of sex and watching each other's back during hunts. And it was already more than he should hope for, surely more than he deserved.

If he allows himself to believe that he can have something nice, that he can feel something more than rage just for once, there will be a price to pay. Not with gold, but with the suffering and the loneliness left behind after your friends or loved ones are gone. Life on the Path was solitary for a reason, it was nothing short of presumptuous of him to let himself get close to someone. It was a delusion he already entertained, and one he promised he wouldn't do again. He is not made for love, and he is surely not made to be loved.

Lambert can easily imagine his brothers' reaction if they were ever to meet Aiden and find out they've been together. He can feel the disapproval and rejection radiating off of them as if they were right here in front of him. And worst of all, he can see the disappointment in Vesemir's eyes crystal clear. You will bump into other Witchers on the Path occasionally, the old man said, most of them will even welcome the company, Griffins and Bear especially. But you stay the hell away from Cats and Vipers, they'd kill their own brothers for the right price, don't think they wouldn't kill another Witcher just for fun. Aiden didn’t kill people though, but that makes for a very poor argument.

Will they kick him out of Kaer Morhen before or after he explains? Will they avoid him every time they meet on the Path, pretend they don't know him, act as if he's already dead? He's always been the resident School of the Wolf failure after all, the thought of his family's refusal scares him, but it won't be a surprise.

What scares him even more than his family's reaction though is Aiden leaving. It's some kind of miracle that he hasn't left already, and to be fair, Lambert expects him to go every single time they reach a city big enough to offer employment to the both of them.

If he stayed until now it was just because it was a suitable agreement, more hunts, more coins, fewer expenses, and awesome sex. Love was not part of the deal. Aiden could always go back to the Caravan, ditch him, and pick a different lover in every new town. It's a mystery why he hasn't done that yet. Why would he ever stay? He's hardly worth the trouble.

Aiden's pained groan shakes him out of his thoughts. As he lets go of the last of his knives, he turns to look at the stirring form a few paces away. He's met with the reassuring green of his eyes, a little bloodshot and tired, but very much alive. It's more than what he dared to hope a few hours ago.

Aiden looks down his chest at the red-stained bandages, his mind filling the blanks of what must have happened after the wyvern got him, before whispering: "You patched me up pretty good, uh?"

Lambert doesn't answer, the surge of relief flooding him overwhelms him for a second. He shouldn't care this much, but he does. Dammit, he does. "Well, I have another scar for my collection. Did you kill it?" Lambert makes a vaguely affirmative sound and points to a set of vials with a sleek blueish liquid inside. Their 700 crowns of poison, that's how valuable their life is.

Aiden slowly sits up, taking in their surroundings. "Seems I was pretty useless for the main action." He stares at Lambert, yellow eyes trained to the fire, and lets go of an exasperated sigh. He can feel that something is off because the Wolf seems determined to avoid looking at him.

"Lambert, talk to me, will you? Did you stitch me just to ignore me?" Aiden's voice is quiet in the cave, just a whisper over the fire, and Lambert almost wants to pretend he didn't hear it. He has nothing to say, nothing he can say. Because he has too much to say, and he's worried that if he starts talking he'll spill something stupid.

"You died," he finally breaths out. "I saw you...passing out...and...and you were...." Lambert signs at his chest as if that explains it all, unable to find the words to justify the urgency in his voice. "...Dead, and I...I didn't know what to do."

"I'm fine!" Aiden moves closer to where the other is sitting by the fire. He didn't miss the shiver in his tone. He lays a hand on his knee, squeezing it in a way that was meant to be reassuring, but it only makes Lambert think about how much he'd miss his touches, how much he'd miss his eyes, and his voice, and his smile, and all the little things he forces himself not to think about.

"I'm fine Wolf. You killed the wyvern and harvested the poison, you did everything right." He pats the dressing wrapped around his torso like it's no big deal and Lambert wants to scream at him or throw something at him, maybe both, cause he shouldn't be this easygoing and calm, not after he almost died and Lambert feels like his whole world has turned upside-down.

He moves his hand to cover the one on his leg, a sudden need to reach out, to touch, to feel that Aiden is really alive and he's not just dreaming, but he lets it drop back in his lap after a second, he doesn't dare to touch him back, not yet. "I didn't know what to do without you," he whispers lowering his eyes.

"It doesn't look like you needed my help at all, I was pretty passed out." Aiden starts picking at the bandages, slowly untying them, and Lambert looks at him out of the corner of his eyes, the ghost of his touch still lingering on his leg and he realizes that he's screwed.

"That's...you know what, nevermind." Totally screwed. Not only he was stupid enough to fall for someone, but it also had to be this Cat, someone he can't have. It had to be someone he so obviously doesn't deserve.

"Are you trying to say you'd miss me? I'm flattered Wolf," Aiden says as he raises his eyes to meet the yellow ones with a little smirk on his lips.

"Unbearable, that's what you are. And to think I even stitched you up." This, Lambert knows how to do this. It's easy to pretend nothing changed if he doesn't let himself think about it. Crushes disappear with time, with a little bit of luck he'll manage to avoid saying something utterly ridiculous like I love you.

"Oh come on, you love me! And, I'm a great fuck." "I do....Fuck, I meant you are." Dammit. He wants to run as far as his legs will carry him, cause he fucked up, he fucked up so bad now, and he's not sure he'll ever be able to look Aiden in the eyes again. He shouldn't have said that, why in the world would any sane person ever say something stupid like that?

Aiden drops the bandages he's holding and looks up at Lambert, pupils wide and swallowing the sea of sparkling green around them. Aiden's eyes always seem to be able to pierce a hole in his soul and see past whatever mask or cover he wears, sometimes he's just nice enough to not call Lambert out on his bullshit.

"Shit, I didn't mean..." This is not how it's supposed to go, they don't say things like that, they're supposed to bicker until one of them grows tired of the game and either stop answering or push the other against the first flat surface available.

"Don't you dare take it back now." Aiden's voice sounds deeper, and there's no trace of the rejection or disgust Lambert was expecting. He moves too quickly and he sits right in front of him, so close to his stretched legs that he can feel the heat of his skin underneath his trousers. Stupid Cat habit of always being in his personal space. He can't think when he's so close.

"I won't hear it if you take it back now," Aiden says, there is a trace of something in his tone that Lamber heard before, but he's suddenly very conscious of how beautiful Aiden looks, and he can't place it. Nobody should look so fine after almost dying. How someone so gorgeous could ever feel something for him?

"I thought you were never going to say it." Lambert surprisingly finds himself with an armful of Cat, arms wrapped around his shoulders and chest pressed against his, he's whispering something Lambert doesn't catch, and all he can do is stare in front of him in disbelief. He's desperately trying to make sense of Aiden's words, why he's holding him instead of pushing him away and leaving, but his mind is a blank slate.

It's hard to think about running away when Aiden's scent is all around him, and the rhythm of his heartbeat is back to the normal comforting sound Lambert is used to. Instead, he brings his shaking hands around Aiden's waist, gingerly touching him like he was afraid to break him. "I...You died and...I...Can't lose you." It just feels right to have Aiden in his arms and it's so easy to get lost in him and pretend the real world is not waiting for them just outside this cave.

"I know, Lambert, I know. I love you too." Aiden's breath tickles the side of his neck, and he knows it must be obvious to the Cat how his heart rate is spiking, rushing to keep up with the confusion in his head.

"You...You what?" Lambert asks, and his voice is shaking. "It's a mystery how you never noticed, honestly." He feels Aiden's smile against his skin while one of his hands trails to the back of his neck, fingers curling at the nape.

"Why?" Aiden doesn't answer, he moves back enough to bring their lips together, a soft purr rumbling in his chest. This can't be real. He'll wake up in a second or two in their bed at the inn and none of this will be real. None of this can ever be real.

Aiden breaks the kiss just to whisper "Why not?" against his mouth, sharing the same breath for a second before tangling his hand in the dark hair, licking Lambert's lips and demanding entrance. The only thing better than holding Aiden is kissing him, and Lambert can feel the naked skin under his palms so blessedly warm and alive, and he's reminded in an instant of what brought them here. Did Aiden say he loved him too? A low moan involuntarily escapes his throat, and all he can focus on is the feeling of his lover's tongue moving against his own.

When they break apart to catch their breath he can't help but splutter out the burning question he can't swallow: "You should be miles away from here." Aiden looks at him, one hand gently brushing his cheek, the touch of his fingers a real presence anchoring him to reality. "But I'm still here."

"I'll hurt you, you know me...I'm not good at this." Lambert gestures vaguely at the space between them as if it held the confused shape of his feelings and he was trying to give it some definition. If he could be ashamed, he'd probably be blushing to the roots of his hair. "I know. So will I. And I'll forgive you. As I hope you'll forgive me." Aiden presses another kiss to his lips, just a small touch of warmth. And just this once, Lambert believes him. Cause why not, right?

***

Lambert is leaving Toussaint tomorrow and he can't help but think back to the main events that brought him here years ago. Everything is different now. He swore he'd do his best and more to never feel the same dread he felt after that nasty business with the wyverns, but it was not enough.

His room at the inn is unbearably hot in the mid-summer afternoon and he's almost glad to head back north. He heard of a griffin contract south of Temeria, he can make it in a week or so if he travels fast. He glances out of the window and down to the street, the white cat he saw before is still sleeping on the chair just outside the bakery. If the small animal were to wake up, Lambert could see again how green its eyes were. The baker doesn't have a cat, of course, he doesn't, never had, Lambert already asked.

Seven. That's how many times his miserable brain decided that it would be so much fun to play tricks on his eyes and convince him there was a cat. Seven animals. Different colours, different types, different places, but always the same pair of green eyes. He should consider seeing a healer at some point. Maybe he's been cursed. Or maybe he's been haunted. The hunter being hunted by a monster he can’t slay, how fitting.

Time seems to pass in such a weird way lately, the days all have the same colours and the same scent of melancholy and sadness. Summer was Aiden's favourite time of the year, it made him all soft and relaxed in a way that made even Lambert feeling warmer for more reasons than just the weather.

He never liked summers. Nothing fun about wearing and armor when you're sweating all the time. That's what he always thought, or at least until he saw Aiden comfortably napping under the sunlight, all sprawled out in the grass and purring contently, his skin was hot to the touch and as much as Lambert didn't want to disturb him, he was irresistible.

He has so many memories of sunny days spent fucking on river banks, napping in the shade of a great tree, or cuddling in a cheap room rented for a few coins until sunset, when they could start traveling again unbothered. Yeah, summer was not so bad after all. Or maybe it was just being with Aiden that made things better.

Someone once told him that sweet memories could help a person through dark times. Lambert wants to find that someone and punch him in the face several times cause no, it doesn’t work like that. His memories were not helping or making him feel better, they were making him go crazy and he’d rather tear them right out of his mind one by one than spend another night thinking about Aiden or other cats with green eyes.

That's a lie. He could never live without those memories now, they are part of the baggage that makes up his life, and sometimes it's a heavy burden to shoulder, but forgetting sounds even worse than carrying that weight around. It happened, he loved someone and it was real, he was more than a monster in someone else's eyes and that was worth the pain.

#lambden #laiden #witcher lambert #witcher aiden #aiden x lambert #lambert x aiden #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fandom #the witcher fic #idiots in love #quarantine writing #I lost a friend I lost my mind #I lost a friend #awkward love confession #fluf #And the usual angst

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

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Tiny Emperor Luke AU back at it again with Vader and Luke getting away from Tatooine or as I call it “Vader discovered possessive determiners and angsts a lot about stolen opportunities”

The child slept for hours, unmoving and if not for the steady hum of the Force and the movement of his chest, Vader would have thought the boy dead. The fear clawed at his insides badly enough that he abandoned the ship entirely to the autopilot so he could sit at the child’s side.

His child, his son.

He was named Luke. Vader had seen Padmé’s funeral, had watched its recordings countless times and visited her grave more often than he ought to. The memory of crushing her throat beneath his fingers made him want to choke. It hadn’t been supposed to be this way. It should be her orders he was following, her will he should be executing, their child they should be raising. Had she even had the chance to name him or had that right be stolen from them as well?

Someone must have brought Luke to Tatooine, told him of his heritage, but who would? Certainly not Kenobi, no. He had buried Anakin Skywalker, betrayed him and left him for dead like every Jedi. Obi-Wan hadn’t known love, wouldn’t know its shape if he were forced to describe it.

His son stirred.

Vader had wanted to take him out of the dirty clothes, but he had nothing else on board but one change of Trooper armor. He supposed the undersuit could be adjusted. His child shouldn’t be dressed in filth. Had Vader raised him, Luke wouldn’t know the feeling of rough garbs on his skin, the durable, harsh clothes Anakin had loathed so much on Tatooine and had been more than happy to burn when he’d gotten to the Jedi Temple.

“Sleep,” Vader ordered and then, hesitantly, reached out to the boy in body and spirit.

He carefully put his hand on Luke’s chest, felt it rise and fall beneath his palm. His son was still breathing, he was well. OF course, the med droid on board and its readings had confirmed as much as well, but machines, no matter how well crafted, could never make up for flesh or the precision of the Force.

Luke was injured, but not so much that bacta wouldn’t be able to heal him. He had plenty of that on Mustafar, as well as discretion. Nobody could know of Luke, the Emperor would ruin his son with his lies as he had brought Vader’s ruin. Sidious would never even step into the same room as his son, Vader would ensure it by all means possible.

Reaching out to Luke with his mind was easier and more difficult at the same time. He was not lacking a limb now, but at the same time it felt like it. Vader’s presence had always burned others. It was the reason brute mindtricks had never worked well on him, he usually felt it when others cut themselves on the harsh fragments of glass Vader surrounded his mind with. When he attempted the same nowadays, it was usually to tear through memories and cause as much damage and pain as he could.

Vader couldn’t recall the last time he had been gentle to anyone.

But Luke’s mind was already in tatters. Wide-open like a traumatized youngling whose defenses had been torn to shreds. Should Vader delve in like this, he would only hurt his child more. He needed true peace and calm, but he hadn’t sought either in almost a decade. It simply hadn’t been possible with the way his body and mind ached, the rage and anger he contained and couldn’t and didn’t want to let go of. It made him stronger, he needed it if he were to destroy Sidious for his lies and yes, now, watching his child struggle to breathe, they could not aid him.

He needed to know how well his son was fairing though. The droids and scans couldn’t tell him what damage those worthless bastards had done to Luke’s mind. His cry in the Force had been so terrible Vader had mistaken it for his own. The last time he’d witnessed such horror-

It was better not to dwell.

Vader opened his mind to the Force and its many perceptions. The Jedi had never truly understood how it worked. They’d always spoken about listening for its whispers and signs, never what to do when an entire orchestra was playing in your mind, each strand of fate occupied with another destiny, another tone, and all of them were determined to make him listen.

Luke’s melody was a silent one, stuttering and not yet settled, but already with so much promise. His son was powerful, as Vader had known he would be. There was no thinking what would have happened had Vader not found him. It was unacceptable to consider that Jabba would have diminished this light.

Carefully, so much more gently than Vader ever had, he attempted to follow Luke’s song. And then, like he had walked miles in the desert and was starved for water, Luke pulled back. His grip was clumsy, unpracticed, untrained. He likely never had felt another Force-sensitive reach out and now latched onto the contact. Vader let himself be pulled along, dragged deep down into a memory, until he crashed onto an imaginary ground.

Dust settled in his lungs and he was forced to cough. Sand stuck to his hands and scalp unpleasantly and even though it was imaginary, instinctively Vader reached out to brush it out of his hair.

He disliked the sensation. Even in his own meditations, he hardly could banish Skywalker’s image. It seemed to taunt him whenever he relived his own memories. Brushing sand off his dark robes, Vader stood up. They didn’t look like Jedi robes, nor anything he was used to wearing, but this wasn’t his mind. His image merely shaped by how Luke perceived him.

Looking around, Vader found that he was standing in a room that was tainted by bitter memories for him. This was the farm his mother had lived at, where she had been buried. It would be so easy to fall into that anger again, but instead his attention was caught by the machinery scattered around the floor. Droid parts, clumsily attached like whoever had worked on them hadn’t been too skilled at it, yet. A mere beginner slowly learning how to work. Amongst the metal also laid ship models, carved out of japor wood and painted colorfully. These were children’s toys, Vader realized.

It made sense that they would be here, in Luke’s mind. His son must have grown up with his grandmother’s chosen family, and yet, looking at them, Vader was amazed. He picked one of the ship models up and was astonished by how infused it was with joy, happiness, light and home. The emotions were so vibrant, they felt like old wounds tearing open again. He quickly dropped the ship again and it clattered to the ground.

“That’s mine.”

Vader turned around to the other end of the room. The boy standing there was tanned, from Tatooine’s suns no questions about that, and his hair was as light as spun gold. His eyes, big and weary, were as blue as Naboo’s lakes, the same color Vader’s eyes used to be. Through Vader’s red-tinted lenses, he hadn’t been able to perceive his son in such a way, but now he never wanted to look away from him.

His son was all his and Padmé’s endless hours of dreaming of their child given from. So many precious late nights and early mornings, before and after the nightmares, they’d laughed and whispered about it. They’d dared to imagine how their precious child would look and he was perfect, more than Vader had ever imagined, perhaps already just because he was alive.

Living, as reality had taught him, was the hardest trial to endure.

“Did you make it?” Vader heard himself ask as the toy ship floated into Luke’s arms.

It was strange to notice that his voice sounded as it used to, that speaking didn’t cause him pain.

“No.” Luke shook his head. “It was a gift.”

“From whom?”

“I don’t know.”

Vader imagined catching a flicker of regret, love and melancholy, but it wasn’t enough to get a clear image. Their surroundings began to flicker as Luke grew unsure. The feeling of darkness and fear slowly trickled into the room.

“Are you staying?” Luke asked, clutching the toy as if it were made from soft fabric instead of hard wood. Then, more desperate, he added, “I don’t want to be alone again.”

“I’m never leaving you again,” Vader vowed.

He’d burn down the galaxy before he let anything or anyone separate him from his son again.

Vader slowly sunk to his knees, bowed not in front of his despised Master, but his dear beloved child. Luke apparently understood the gesture for what it was and promptly flung himself into Vader’s arms. He buried his head in the crook of Vader’s neck, hiding away his face.

“I knew you’d come,” Luke stuttered out in-between sobs. “I always knew you’d come back for me.”

“Of course,” Vader agreed. “It was the will of the Force.”

The Force had reunited them and it would lead them from now onwards. Vader could feel his son’s natural shields slowly repairing and yet they weren’t throwing him out. His son was well, the slavers’ torment hadn’t fractured his mind as he had assumed. Reassured of Luke’s health, Vader decided he must turn to consciousness.

“Come on now, young one. It is time to wake up.”

It was time they met face-to-face outside of dreams.

#star wars #Luke Skywalker #Anakin Skywalker #darth vader #fanfic #tiny emperor luke au #vader 10 years after mustafar: obi-wan wouldn't know what love is he wouldn't ever care about luke #obiwan actually: i spent 9 years watching your son and being simultaneously happy and sad how much he is like the best of you but go off #obiwan: not like i make toys for your kid in my free time :/#THATS RIGHT #Vader doesn't think that obiwan had his hands in this #BC HES A DUMB BITTER BASTARD

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angel-squid-trash-ghost · 4 years

Text

Parental Guidance

The wind whistled across the tundra. A storm was moving inland but probably wouldn’t be too eventful. But something else wasn’t right in the air. Hakoda could feel it. The wind whispered it to him. It was a warning. Go inside. Go inside, he felt his heart say. There was a giggle behind him. It was his youngest, Katara. He was happy to hear that sound from her. For too long his precious daughter didn’t even smile.

It was only a year ago his wife, his Kya, had been slain by the Fire Nation. It was hard to see his children grow without a mother. Sokka, his son understood better than his sister. Katara would cry for her mother to tuck her in. She only wanted her mother to make her dinner. Only her mother to hold her when she cried. But his son was showing her a spinning top. One decorated with a wolf spirit that spun in a figure eight. Her blue eyes, his wife’s eyes, lit up with wonder.

“Dad! Look!” Sokka smiled.

Sokka was a good boy. He was so eager to learn how to be a man. He couldn’t do a Water tribe father prouder. He was smart too. He had built his first snare before he was even shown how to. He was also a good brother. Hakoda knew there were times he couldn’t care for his daughter alone. He couldn’t take the constant pleading for someone he couldn’t give her. But it would be Sokka to take her hand and tell her to hush, that things would be different in the mornings.

The snow kept falling as Kanna stirred stewed squid. His mother was a tremendous help. She had filled all the roles Kya would have had in their household. He wouldn’t be able to do it without her. Sometimes he would try to get her to rest. But she would brush him off and insist she wasn’t that old yet.

“That’s really amazing, son.” He smiled at his family.

He was grateful to be able to see their faces every day. He had not been asked to go to war like many in the sister tribe had been. His village was small with only a few other villages scattered around. If all warriors were shipped out there would be no chance for the Southern Water Tribe to survive. Lately there hadn’t been any raids. Not since the last one that took his Kya. He tried not to think about her or the war. Not on nights like this with his family warm and laughing. In the morning, fresh snow would cover the ground erasing the days before. So, he dreamed to be old, white haired and wrinkled, surrounded by grandkids who had never heard of war. Many, happy grandkids who had never seen the red flags or the black snow.

“Dad! Dad! It’s still spinning!” Katara clapped her hands snapping him out of his trance.

“I see! How long do you think it will spin?” Hakoda laughed.

“Maybe until Mommy comes back!”

Sokka stopped the top, his mother had stopped stirring and his daughter’s smile disappeared when she saw her father’s reaction. Hakoda found himself wanting to go outside again. The stab to his heart was too much. But the wind whispered. Stay inside. Stay inside.

…

The water was cold. It was too cold. It hurt Iroh’s bones and his muscles. He was already so tired from swimming. He only had a small piece of metal and what seemed to be the remains of his nephew. The storm had destroyed their ship as if La themself had split the metal vessel in two. Iroh didn’t know how many of the crew had survived. But his nephew was with him still as the ice they rested on. Iroh longed to be on the shores of his homeland. He wished he were on sand and not ice. That he was being covered by sun rays and not snow. His rib was broken, and his hip was in an unbearable amount of pain. But in that moment, none of it mattered. His nephew, Prince Zuko was not moving. Iroh felt the burn in his eyes and the choke in his throat. The journey couldn’t be for nothing.

Another wave washed over Iroh. So cold. The splash hit the burnt skin of his nephew. Prince Zuko’s eyes squinted. Now Iroh was crying, not with pain but with relief. It gave him the strength he needed to pull himself out fully from the water. The ice was not much more forgiving than the water. He was still too weak to bend. He closed his tired eyes. Iroh started to think almost into meditation. He was almost ready to resign to a death next to the young life he tried to save. Almost.

He felt a warmth close to his plumped cheek. It was a salvation. Was it Agni trying to take him to the spirit world? Iroh opened one eye. It was Captain Soru. The son of the navigator Soji, who was surely at the mercy of the ocean if not already dead. He held a fire to him warm and welcoming.

…

Hakoda felt something else on the wind. There was more than one voice now. He was starting to believe the grief had caused him to go insane. Stay inside. Help. We are here. Stay. Help. Stay. Whispered on the winds as he stared through the uncovered window. Kanna was quick to cover the carved hole with a pelt.

“You will catch a sickness.” Kanna chastised.

“Maybe, mother. But I can hear voices.” He admitted knowing his mother would not judge him. He had said worse things to her.

His mother answered. “What do you hear? One does not hear the wind if it is not telling him something.”

Hakoda moved the pelt and watched the snow. Slowly figures appeared. At first, he thought he was seeing things. Seven shapes moved through the whirling gusts. Some tall and some thicker than others. But they were all in a circle around something.

“Chief Hakoda!”

“What is it, Moak?” Hakoda asked seeing Moak run past his window.

“Seven men! They look Fire Nation!”

Hakoda’s heart pounded in his chest. “Mother take the children to the communal hut. Go quickly! Tell all women you see to do the same. Where’s Bato?”

“I’m here.” Bato, a man that had been his friend since childhood stood faithfully at his side.

“I want all men armed and ready.” Hakoda said trying to hide his panic.

“There may be a weapon with them!” Moak shouted out.

“Look through the spy glass! Get a better look.”

“Chief it’s…a doll? A child? There is only half a face that I can see! They look injured.”

“Wait till they get closer. Keep your eye in the spy glass. When you get a better sense let me know.” The chief kept his composure. The entire village would be counting on him.

Hakoda went around the village, preparing for the worst. Every command had to be followed to the exact letter. Hakoda had planned for every single outcome since the last time the Fire Nation were spotted on their shores. His plan was full proof, and he would never lose anyone ever again.

“Dad what’s happening? I can help!” Sokka must have escaped his Gran-gran. He was already armed with seal leather armor and a boomerang.

Hakoda’s pride out-weighed his panic for a few moments. He put his hands onto his son’s shoulders. “What I need you to do right now is a very important job. Do you understand?”

Sokka nodded hard gripping his boomerang for dear life.

Hakoda continued, “I need you to be with Katara and Gran- Gran. I know it feels like I’m sending you away, but I need someone protecting them. You know you’re my bravest warrior, right?”

He could see his son fight his own tears, “Yes, Dad.”

“Then please be with them Sokka. I can’t lose anyone else.” Hakoda pulled his son close before letting him go to bark out more orders. “Guard the gate! Hold the line! Show no fear!” The snow fell faster now making it hard to the approaching men. It seemed like they would have to get closer to get a full idea of what they could be expecting.

Finally, the Fire Nation men were in sight. Two young men and four middle aged men. One old man and one boy being pulled on a makeshift sled. They all limped, each step taken in agony. The young men had extensive injuries. One appeared to be missing an arm. Two middle age men hobbled along keeping up the old man whilst helping themselves. And the other two pulling the sled with the half-faced boy. They all fell to their knee’s when they reached the gate. They were wet and bleeding. The cold must have been adding to their misery as they were not properly dressed for ice and snow. He heard them sob and groan. Some of his men grew restless. There was no doubt they were suffering, but how could he care. They were Fire Nation. They should get a taste of their own medicine. They should walk around limbless and in pain. They should starve and be frightened. Their child should die innocent in their arms…

“Chief? They have a child with them. The old man is saying they need warmth, or they will all die. What should we do?” Moak whispered.

“Keep the gate closed.” Hakoda said without hesitation.

“Yes, sir.” Moak nodded before leaving to inform the guards.

“Bato!” Hakoda called his friend. “What should I do? They are injured and they have a child with them. But they are Fire Nation. Do they deserve mercy?”

“Hakoda...” Bato stared at the Fire Nation men as Hakoda did, “Are we better than them if we leave them at the gate to die? Are we exposing ourselves to a sneak attack if we let them in? But any decision you make I will follow.”

“I have the same troubled thinking.” Hakoda breathed out. To know his men were as conflicted as he was made it easier for him to form a plan. “We should let the most injured man in to ask what they want. Do not let the child come through yet. I do not want them to think we are too gullible.”

“Yes, sir!” Bato leapt down to the others to inform the change of plan.

They sent the old man in. He spoke the Water language. He spun some story that the storm had pushed them off their course and their ship sank some miles out. He asked for fire his injured crew could gather around. He had the audacity to ask for food and to ask for shelter. Hakoda had a quick thought of cutting them all down in their weakened state. But he was raised as a warrior. He would not kill men who could not defend themselves. But they would not be guests. They would be held as prisoners until Hakoda decided they weren’t.

“Please take my nephew! He needs a healer right away!” The old man begged again.

Hakoda could only assume the boy’s face had been damaged by the sinking ship. He was small and couldn’t be older than his own son. He wasn’t moving. Not even when the snow landed on his wounds. He gave the order to have the child taken to the healing hut, but the others had to stay together and were to be guarded at all times.

Over the next week, the prisoners were given a meal a day of whatever scraps they decided to provide. Any sign of bending and they would be killed. They had to be restrained when their injuries were inspected. The boy in the healing hut had not opened his eyes. As the days went on the villagers grew anxious. No one wanted Fire Nation in their midst for that long. A search party might arrive soon only putting his people in further danger. The Fire Nation men had to leave. They had been shown enough hospitality.

The next morning Hakoda went to inform the prisoners. They all took the news well. All except for the old man. The old man struggled to stand on his feet. He whimpered even as two men lifted him.

“Please, Chief Hakoda. I understand me and my men must go, but please let the boy stay.”

“You have already asked too much of my people. I will not allow some lifeless Fire Nation pup to be a cause of another raid.”

“No one knows where we are.”

“You could be lying. I should have made the order to kill you at the gate. You could be a spy.”

“We do not wish to stay, Chief Hakoda. But the boy cannot come with us. I fear he would not survive the journey back.”

“What concern of this is mine. Unlike the Fire Nation, Water tribe understand what innocence is. No child of the Fire Nation can be innocent.”

“I know your heart cannot be so hard, Chief Hakoda. He is not unlike your children. His only crime is being born under the Fire Flag.”

“My decision is final.” Hakoda kept his laconic tone.

Iroh threw himself into a kowtow, “I wish for his safety! He will be safe here! Please, Chief Hakoda. This old man begs you.”

“As my wife did? Before she was slain holding my daughter in her arms? My decision is final.”

“You are not the only one to have loved ones lost at the hands of the Fire Nation. My people lose fathers and sons every day for a war that does not benefit them. I lost my very own son. I do not like this war any more than you. I do not seek glory or victory over you or your people. I want to go home and die in my own bed knowing that my nephew is safe.”

Hakoda ignored the sympathy that flittered in the back of his mind. There wasn’t much else Hakoda could do. If he allowed the boy to stay, the Fire Nation would have a reason to come back. If not them, then the Northern Water tribe would have a long-awaited reason to seize control of the South. It would be reason enough for some Earth kingdom tradesmen to sell information to the Fire Nation. He seemed to be cornered at all sides. It was the most rational decision to send them all away.

He approached the healer’s tent unable to remember his reasoning. Inside was the last thing he wanted to see. His daughter was above the half-faced boy. She took a towel and gently dabbed at the boy’s scar. The boy’s eyes moved but didn’t open. He stayed in his place before his body had to react. He stepped backward. The crunch of the floor behind him alerted his daughter. Katara put her hands behind her back like she was caught sneaking an extra tart.

“Dad. I’m sorry. They left him. They said he was already dead. But look! He’s alive, Dad!” Katara began to sob.

Hakoda kept his voice even, not to scare his daughter, “I am taking you to Gran- Gran and you will not leave her sight.”

Hakoda made his way to the communal hut where all the women and children sat together waiting for news. Including the healer, Kehana who was supposed to be treating the boy. He saw the fear in her eyes. In all their eyes as he scanned the room. He made them aware of his decision. Relief washed over them all. But all too soon when shouting was heard.

Hakoda dashed outside. Men were hollering and running in disarray. They all were pointing in the same direction. The six Fire Nation soldiers had escaped and were seen hauling a canoe into the water. Hakoda grabbed the nearest weapon and sprinted to the shore. He couldn’t think and couldn’t make any commands, but his men followed suit and ran with him. It was too late. The old man was yelling something over the water that he couldn’t hear. Hakoda hoped La would not make the same mistake and swallow them whole this time.

#zutara #zuko x katara #young zuko #young katara #young sokka #first fanfic #atla fanfic #hakoda #kanna #bato #alternate universe #cannon divergence #i own nothing

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nochiquinn · 4 years

Text

campaign 2 episode 123:

I have a whole bag of chips and a whole box of donut sticks, I am prepared for the long haul that this is apparently going to be

also renewed shoutout to the CC, I take my headphones out when everyone else goes to bed so I can hear the child if she needs me and this helps immensely

sam WHAT is on your face

I need Liam's shirt

Detect Iffiness

"he's not really great with pain" and I was gonna say he's had worse

"I PUNCH PEOPLE"

laura

marISHA

"with your mind?" "with his THIGHS"

travis is DELIGHTED by this

what if caleb can't identify bc he also has the eye

you think they ever meow around travis just to fuck with him

s a m

"once a day we can try for something stupid"

caleb

ashley is trying to make my prediction from last episode some through

I'm glad they're having fun with this

"I ROLLED A DRAGON"

travis

caleb get your squishy ass back here

jester vs big scary monster round one million

stress level: marisha has forgotten how to chair

"we're fucked" "no, YOU'RE fucked"

rip beau

turn gelidon into butterflies

OH yasha aasimar, reani aasimar, gelidon thinks all aasimar look alike and therefore did not realize yasha is not reani

nice

"that's the sex number!"

"'press square rapidly' no ♥"

rip beau

stress level: I have broken into the donut sticks

they need a big open/closed sign but it tells them when they have advantage

like taliesin writing "HUNTER'S MARK" on the chalkboard in their original set

it's okay yasha will catch her

at least he didn't lose it while he was in the air

"I think he told you to fuck off"

"why not roll less dice?" "why do you never roll luck?!"

"ancient dragons have a hot - a lot -" too late matt I heard you

I feel the spirit of the golden snitch in this chili's

matt stop trolling the lesbians

True Love's Heal

lightning fists LIGHTNING FISTS

wow fuck you pal

that's a fucking cool visual

me: once again my brother's name makes me do weird doubletakes in completely unrelated situations mala: Yasha is just chucking your brother me: improvised weapon

(that might actually work, he's basically a monk)

"I SUMMONED THIS BITCH WE'RE GONNA END HER"

congratulations you beat the prologue, you are now allowed to play dungeons and dragons

cuties

veth takes psychic damage

I like the mental image of veth having this conversation with just her head sticking up out of the snow

mala: RIPcords

samuel

just call your god a fucking idiot

(in fairness he is, in fact, a fucking idiot)

finally a solid excuse to kill otis

"it's a cursory roll" my ASS matt was rolling to pickpocket

mala: no map map cam

"the thing that fjord lost"

does that WORK on lucien? legendary action having ass motherfucker

I can feel my heartbeat in my face

I am Experiencing Stress

why did they burn so many 20s on the dragon

give those back

is that a spell you can do or is he wearing a thing? if he's wearing a thing can they take the thing? and then make him choke on it?

hhhhHHHHH

aaand the child's cgm went off, now now child's pancreas

stress level: travis sass

he has a fucking eye now

wing sfx (relieved)

armor of Fuck You

"he's doing naruto shit"

if it goes past 3 am we legally get a second break

in all of this I'm trying to deal with the child's Diabetic Event so I keep having to leave and every time I come back someone else is on the ground or bleeding or an owl and it is NOT helping my stress

manifesting essek showing up. almost 100% will not happen but I'm manifesting it.

#ThankYouCrew

#critical role #spoilers #liveblog #reaction post #crititag

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kerra-and-company · 3 years

Note

A prompt for Kerra and DW member of your choice! This strikes me as a very Rytlock line though lmao “Every time I think I’m close to finally figuring you out you end up surprising me.”

Thank you so much for the prompt! That is indeed a very Rytlock line, and this got longer than I expected, dear lord. But here you go! Set after “The Sacrifice” in PoF, so spoilers for that for anyone who needs to know. Under a cut because it’s a bit longer than my last one.

“That spirit…was Balthazar.”

Kerra’s heart stopped.

Rytlock kept talking, but she couldn’t hear him over the ringing in her ears. She thought he was saying something about not knowing, but she wasn’t processing any of it, not really.

“You…?” It was hardly more than a whisper. “You let him out.”

“Commander?”

Under normal circumstances, she’d have seen the look on Rytlock’s face. Under normal circumstances, she’d feel his emotions, and his pain, and his regret, and she’d put them all first. Like she did with everyone, all her friends, always, always, always.

This was definitely not “normal circumstances.”

“You did this.” A little louder.

“Commander…I—”

“By the Pale Mother!” Kerra said, almost laughing. It was too high-pitched. “Every time. Every time I think I’m close to figuring you out, you manage to surprise me.”

“Kerra—” Rytlock was pleading, but Kerra was past caring.

“I helped pull your guild back together. We were friends. And then you jumped into a portal, into the Mists, after a sword, because you value yourself and your friends less than an enchanted piece of metal.” Kerra moved toward him, jabbing a finger into his chest, hitting his armor.

“And when you came back, you’d clearly gone through something that you refused to talk about, and you accused me and my siblings and my partners and every other sylvari in Maguuma of belonging to the jungle dragon.”

“That—”

“And then, after we defeated Mordremoth, you apologized, and I forgave you, because you were scared and trying your best and you’d just come back from the Mists. But you wouldn’t tell anyone what you went through! For years! And you were hiding this?!” She was screaming by now. Somewhere behind her, Canach and Kasmeer were calling her name. She felt hands on her shoulders. She shook them off.

“We could have gotten out in front of this somehow! Even if you didn’t know it was Balthazar, we could have had a little warning at least! We could have prevented damage! Saved so many lives!” Kerra shoved Rytlock with all her strength, and he stumbled back. “Do you have any idea how many people we lost?” Villages burning to the ground. Forged outposts all over the Crystal Desert. “How many families are in pieces now?” The refugees outside Amnoon. Kormir’s priests and priestesses, and the wounded. So many more, countless more, countless others. “Do you—”

Her voice abruptly choked off, and she coughed to clear her throat, her eyes glistening with tears and anger. “Aurene could have met her brother,” she said, voice broken, collapsing to the ground amidst thousands of yellow crystal shards. Canach and Kas sank down with her, supporting both sides. “I can feel her pain, did you know that? I can’t shut it out.”

She sobbed. Rytlock was still in front of her, frozen dead still. “She is grieving, and she is one of thousands,” Kerra spit out. “And I can’t go to her—I can’t even help her. I need to be here. So she has to grieve alone.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Lin,” Canach murmured, right by her ear, and she let out another sob. “Lin, I’ll call Nisha; xe can go to her. And she has Taimi, and the Exalted, and Caithe—” Kerra scoffed quietly at Caithe’s name. “She has people,” he said, a finger drawing patterns on her shoulder that she could just barely feel through her armor. “She will not be alone.”

“Make…make sure,” Kerra whispered, feeling the breath leave her lungs. She squeezed his hand twice, a silent thank you.“Call Nish. Please. Go.”

He squeezed back, stood up, and moved away. She heard the crackle of the communicator, and the noise jolted her body into action. She shuddered and stood as well, with Kasmeer’s help. As her reason slowly returned, Kas’s pain and confusion flooded her mind, along with something Kerra was learning to recognize as the feeling of broken faith. She was still too dazed to puzzle it out fully, but she tucked it away in the back of her mind.

Rytlock’s eyes were brighter than usual when she looked up again, and yet another part of her fractured when she saw the wet fur on his face. She belatedly tried to control her expression. She wasn’t sure why she bothered. Her emotions seethed and rolled like the Jade Sea in a storm, merging into one incomprehensible mess.

“I’m gonna fix this, Commander,” he said, wobblier than she had ever heard him, but still certain. “You have my word.”

“You can’t fix this, Tribune,” Kerra said, suddenly more exhausted than anything else. “Hundreds of deaths are not fixable. You can’t bring Vlast back.” She stepped forward. He flinched slightly as she put her hands on his shoulders. “But, by thorns and brambles, you can and will help me kill this god.”

He backed up just enough so that he had space to salute. A reflex, soldier through and through.

At some point, Kas had drifted off, checking in on Canach, giving the two of them whatever privacy was possible. Kerra could feel their concern shining out, calming the waters.

“Rytlock.” He met her eyes. “You will not keep a secret like this ever again. Promise me.”

“Yes, Commander. I promise.” He shuffled his feet. “And for whatever it’s worth, Kerra—I’m sorry.”

“I know,” she said. “I don’t need to hear that, though. I need to see you do better. I do believe you can, you know.”

Rytlock grunted out a dry laugh. “You’re the first in a while, kid.”

“Deal with it,” Kerra said, her voice solid, but not cold.

“I guess I have to, don’t I?”

“Yes. You do.”

#gw2 #my fics #kerralind #rytlock #i-mybrunettelady #for some reason my brain saw this prompt and was like: yes! this specific bit of angst! have fun!#featuring canach and kas #and mentions of vlast and aurene #not featured: kerra absolutely breaking down listening to vlast's crystal messages later #kerra tries to save everyone and can't #so when she learns that she's lost an opportunity to save this many #innocents and on TOP of that #has lost an opportunity to spare her daughter pain #she. is. INCREDIBLY upset.

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grither55 · 4 years

Text

The Princess and the Peasant - (An Azula Epic) - Chapter 91 - Revelations

Mai and Ty Lee sat on the floor of the room once more while Zoe stood with her back against the wall.

Downstairs the others were concluding the cleanup.

While Azula sat in a chair with Elle faithfully seated at her boots once more.

And the old sage sat in a chair before her damaged but still intact wood stove while they waited for her to clarify matters to them.

"We're inside now old woman. I demand that you give us the explanations that you said you would." Azula remarked in a cold voice with her callous eyes staring back at the crone's hunched over back.

"Yes, wise sage. Please tell me the meaning of all that I saw." Elle requested in a polite voice as she sat with the back of her head resting against Azula's leg.

While the three noblewomen glanced back at the old woman expecting her to snap a reply at the unsocial princess.

Only for all but Azula to sweatdrop when the sound of the sage snoring flowed into their ears.

The princess's merciless eyes twitched as she glared back at the old woman's sleeping face.

Just before a devious thought came to mind while a ball of blue fire formed in her palm.

All the while as her two childhood friends turned to her with their eyes narrowing in reproach.

And even her captain frowned as she shook her head.

Only for all of them to sigh when the fireball exploded in the stove while a large flame now flared to life before the awoken crone's yelling face.

"Azula!" Ty Lee exclaimed with her brown-gray eyes staring at the smirking woman in disapproval when Mava was almost burned by the roaring fire.

"No good brat! And you wonder why no one likes you!" Mava shouted as she waved an indignant hand in the air while Azula smiled smugly back at her.

While the others just shook their heads musing that the old woman had a valid point.

"It isn't time for your nap…grandma. Now wake up and answer my questions or I will burn this tree down from the inside out!" The princess commanded with her finger pointing back at the sage's glowering face.

Only for her golden eyes to glare down at her feet when she felt a dainty hand shake her sleeve.

"Don't do that Azula-sama! Think of all of the forest creatures that must call this tree home!" The blonde-haired girl advised in a sweet voice while the princess rolled her eyes down at her as the acrobat smiled back at them.

"Go ahead and burn it down. Then you can resume where you left off with Silah." The sage retorted with a wrinkled finger pointing back into the princess's once more wrathful golden eyes while the captain clenched her fist.

And the two other noblewomen shuddered as they gazed ahead with fear in their eyes.

"By Agni don't. I have had enough of that freak to last me a lifetime." Mai stated in a disgusted voice while Ty Lee nodded beside her.

"Y-yeah. Please don't Azula." The brown-haired woman agreed as the princess let out a loud scoff as she glared back at them.

"Speak for yourself House Lin. I am not done with her." Zoe muttered with her hazel eyes glaring down at the floor while her fellow nobles shivered in silence.

"I…still don't understand what happened while I was out." Elle stated in a confused voice as she bit her lip while her companions remained eerily silent.

"My sentiments precisely. The next time I see her she will be screaming for mercy." Azula sneered with a burning fist clenched before her face while Elle still peered about in puzzlement.

"We just…met a passionate admirer of the princess. That's all really." The captain stated with a hand over her mouth as her two fellow noblewomen now glared back at her when the teenager's eyes grew wide in panic.

While Azula now glared golden daggers back at the other woman's mildly amused face.

"A-another admirer of Azula-sama?" The blonde-haired girl questioned in a mortified voice.

"Indeed child. You have a love rival now." Mava teased with a smirk on her old lips as Azula turned red in humiliation in her seat while Elle's eyes were now aghast with horror.

And then the young girl looked as if the very life had begun to fade from her body.

"I-I have a l-love rival? Is that t-true Azula-sama?" Elle stammered in a distraught voice as she gazed up at Azula's scowling face.

"Being the goddess that I am I do have thousands of suitors. Everywhere I go men and women alike practically clamber for the chance just to kiss my feet." The princess spoke in a conceited voice as she studied her fingernails as she smiled while her pet clung to her thigh in despair.

And all but poor Elle rolled their eyes over the obvious lie.

"That's a lie and you know it Azula!" Ty Lee huffed as she tapped a boot on the floor while Azula just smiled back at her.

"Yeah. Don't worry kid. Azula's all yours. No one else has the patience to put up with her insanity." The markswoman snorted as the acrobat sweatdropped while the princess turned to cast an icy stare her way.

Only for the two of them to sigh fondly when Elle failed to even hear those words.

"T-thousands?" The blonde-haired girl inquired with her amber eyes wide in worry as she held onto her princess's thigh while the older girl sighed above her.

"Of course. You're still my favorite." Azula grumbled with her arms stubbornly crossed over her armored breasts as she glared off at the nearest wall with a tiny blush on her regal cheeks.

While the others observed the strange couple's interactions in amusement.

"I am?" Elle pondered in a more hopeful voice with her amber eyes taking on a happier gleam while she gazed up at Azula's beautifully proud face.

"Foolish tiger monkey. Take note that I am rolling my eyes." The princess scoffed as she rolled her eyes while gazing down at her young girlfriend's brightening face.

"Yay! I am still Her Highness's favorite!" The blonde-haired girl cried out with a fist pumping in the air while her princess coldly rolled her eyes once more.

While Mai and Ty Lee found themselves unable to resist cracking a smile over the girl's returned cheer.

Only for the others to turn to Elle in surprise when she collapsed with a moan upon Azula's leg while the princess now gazed down at her in hidden concern.

"Oh, my belly hurts…" Elle moaned as she held onto her stomach as she lay with her chin propped up on her girlfriend's thigh while her cheeks began to turn green.

Just as Azula's golden eyes widened in alarm while the three highborn women and the sage watched in entertainment as she flailed about in her seat.

"Elle! Don't you dare even think of puking on my leg!" Azula shouted as she squirmed in her seat with the young girl still latched onto her leg while her lips pursed into a regal glower.

"The potion that you drank tends to have that effect. But it will wear off shortly. And in time you will be glad that you drank it." Mava assured in a gruff voice as she held onto her staff while Azula glared at her through the corner of her.

"If you say so wise sage…" The blonde-haired girl trailed off as she pouted when her princess pushed her off her leg.

"Well! Little sister. I am relieved to see that you are in better spirits." The brown-haired woman chimed as she smiled back at the younger girl from where she sat beside her.

"Oh! That's because I know that Azula-sama is here to support me." Elle answered with a grateful smile as she gazed up over her shoulder at Azula's cold countenance while the acrobat smiled at the scowling princess.

"Which brings me to my latest announcement. I have decided for the duration of this meeting that I will take on a more…forceful role." The princess announced with her palms clasped in her lap while her childhood friends gazed at her in incredulously.

And the old sage just cast an equally hateful stare her way.

"But Azula, you have already been dictating the course of the entire meeting." Ty Lee remarked as Mai just sighed from where she sat beside her.

"Elle has confided to me that she is uncomfortable with the last hour that she spent outside of my rule. And she has requested that I take on a more domineering role. And so…out of the kindness of my heart. I have decided to oblige her." Azula purred with her lips pulling into a haughty smile while the three highborn women face palmed in unison.

"Arigatou gozaimasu Azula-sama!" The blonde-haired girl chirped as she smiled over her shoulder up at her princess's smirking face.

"Kid. Why would you ever tell Azula that?" Mai groaned with her hand in her hair while Elle sat naively at the princess's boots.

"Oh Elle…" The brown-haired woman sighed in a fond voice while the teenager still gazed dreamily up at the princess's smiling countenance.

"Life gets so scary when Azula-sama isn't in charge of me. That's why it's for the best that she maintains control. I trust her to make the right decision for me." Elle quipped in a naïve voice as she peered up at Azula while the older girl smiled smugly down at her.

"Bah. Whatever. Anything to be rid of you for good." The sage snapped as she waved her staff in the princess's direction while callous golden eyes glared back at her.

"Tell me everything that you know about Silah. And I mean everything." The princess demanded in a frigid voice with her imposing eyes staring hard back at the old woman's wrinkled face.

"Silah has most likely gone to retreat to her citadel." Mava stated as she gazed into the azure fire burning inside of her wood stove while the group gazed on with intrigued looks in their eyes.

"She has a citadel?" Zoe questioned in a taken aback voice with her hazel eyes narrowing once more.

"Where?" Azula hissed with her fists balled up on the arms of her chair while Elle listened in suspense at her booted feet.

"I don't know. Could be in the Fire Nation. Or perhaps the Earth Kingdom. I would wager somewhere in between." The sage answered with a shrug while the highborn women exchanged a frustrated glance with one another.

"That's it? You can't give me anything more descriptive than that?" The princess snapped with her golden eyes agape in annoyance while she exhaled fire from her lips.

"You should be grateful that you are even getting that much!" Mava hollered back while Azula glared at her with frigid golden eyes.

"I'll find it. And when I do, I'll dispatch a fleet of airships to raze it to the ground." Azula snarled as she sunk back in her seat with her hardened eyes staring coldly ahead.

"Even if you could go there you would be a fool to do so. You and your people just barely escaped with your lives. And now you want to go back for more?" The sage scoffed as she sat over the burning blue fire while the princess and the captain stared ahead with vengeful looks in their eyes.

"She has a point Azula." Ty Lee spoke in a fearful voice while Azula turned to scowl at her through the corner of her eye.

"I wouldn't go with you even if you could." The markswoman stated in a repulsed voice with unnatural fear in her tawny eyes while the princess sat staring furiously back at them.

"You said that she and you were friends once." The captain commented with her arms folded over her chest while she stared back at the old woman's flame lit face.

It was a question that they had all been pondering for quite some time.

"We were in a time long ago…back before she developed her morbid obsession with puppetry. Back…when we were young." Mava confessed in a reflective voice with her glazed eyes staring ahead while the group sat in a speechless silence.

"Young? You mean that she's as old as you?" The brown-haired woman breathed in disbelief while the princess stared on in incredulousness beside her.

"Old like me? Yes." The sage responded without delay while the team gazed on in indescribable shock.

"How? How is that possible?" The princess inquired with her golden eyes wide in both intrigue and humiliation.

"You mean to tell me that we got our asses beat by an old woman? No offense." Mai asked in a stunned voice while the acrobat sat in a floored silence beside her.

While both the princess and the captain bristled with embarrassment in their eyes at the implication that they were almost killed by an old woman.

"My time in this world is nearing its end. But I can't say the same for Silah…it would seem that she has discovered some form of immortality." Mava stated in a thoughtful voice while the group stared on with their eyes widening in alarm.

And now all of the sudden all of the puppeteer's remarks about being eternal made sense.

"She's immortal? That's incredible." The blonde-haired girl spoke in a voice of childlike wonder with her big sister's shuddering beside her.

"Immortal…" Zoe trailed off in a soft voice with her hazel eyes gazing ahead in fascination.

And yet she despite that she had taken meticulous steps to conceal her identity.

Which was something that she wouldn't have done if she was truly immortal.

"We'll see how immortal she is when I incinerate her in my flames." Azula growled in a vengeful voice with her fists clenched upon the sides of her chair.

The markswoman could only shudder with an even greater desire in her eyes to never encounter the artist again.

And the acrobat swallowed apprehensively in silent agreement.

Any previous thoughts that Silah couldn't get more terrifying just went right out the metaphorical window.

"Silah has been doing this since long before you were born. Compared to her…you may as well be a child. A child with overwhelming power but a child all the same. Behave impetuously and you will seal your fate as her doll." The sage cautioned in a scratchy voice as she sat with her hunched back turned to the princess's enraged golden gaze.

And the two noblewomen once more found themselves failing to suppress a shudder.

Only for their young friend's innocent voice to tear them from their reverie.

"Huh? She wants an Azula-sama doll? Like my princess plushie?" Elle pondered in a sweet voice while Azula's golden eyes now glared down at her back.

While all but the princess sweatdropped in amusement.

"That's one way of putting it kid." Mai stated with a slight smirk returning to her lips while Azula's imposing eyes glared her direction.

"Wait. You have a plushie of the princess?" The captain questioned in a comically curious voice while the princess turned to glower her way.

"Mhm! I do. Ty Lee bought it for me from a gift shop in the Capital." The blonde-haired girl chirped with excitement in her voice while her princess balled up her fists in anger.

While Ty Lee grinned over in the direction of her adopted sister.

"You don't say? I'll have to purchase one when we return." Zoe spoke with a smirk while Azula's golden eyes grew wide in rage.

"Shut up Zoe!" The princess barked with blue flames flaring to life behind her while all but her servant chortled behind their palms.

"Perhaps if we get Silah a plushie of her own that will resolve matters peaceably." Elle remarked in a naïve voice while all but Azula sweatdropped once again.

Only to find herself jumping in a trained panic when a boot stomped on the floor behind her.

"Be silent peasant or I will destroy your wretched doll in the wake of my flames." Azula snarled with blue fire exuding from her beautiful lips while her domineering eyes took great delight in how the girl frantically recoiled in horror.

"P-please don't burn my plushie. I love my Azula-sama plushie…" The blonde-haired girl mumbled in a still sensitive voice while her princess rolled her eyes over her.

"Enough about the spoiled princess and her plushies." Mava called out in a taunt while Azula turned to cast a piercing stare in her direction.

"Princess. I have an idea as to how we can track Silah down." The captain commented in a serious voice once more while her ruler turned to gaze her way.

"How?" The princess replied in a still aggravated voice while the captain held a hand under her chin.

"The bounty hunter June…is said to be able to trace any target." Zoe responded in a contemplative voice while Azula's cold gaze flickered in approval.

"Wise sage? I have much that I want to ask you…" Elle trailed off with returning nervousness as she held her hands in her lap while Azula once more scowled in disapproval of her sorrow.

"Then speak child." The sage replied in a graveled voice while the teenager bit her lip in contemplation.

"M-my…my mother had visions of me before she died. What…what does that mean?" The blonde-haired girl questioned as she audibly swallowed while her highborn friends fell silent in sympathy once more.

"When the Component transfers from a holder to a direct descendant…the fading holder obtains a glimpse into the identity of the child that receives the inheritance." Mava explained in an enlightened voice as Elle gazed on with her saddened amber eyes wide in awe.

While Team Azula listened with a look of marvelment in their eyes.

"S-so she knew that it would go to me? And she knew about Azula-sama as well?" Elle inquired in a voice of wonderment with her eyes wide in emotion while Azula sat in a speechless silence behind her.

"Yes. She did." The sage stated in an aged voice while the group gazed on with astounded looks in their eyes.

"Before Mother died…s-she tried to deliver a message to a woman over the radio…and she recorded a note on a piece of paper. What…was she going to say? And what did her note say?" The blonde-haired girl muttered with her head hanging low over her knees while her friends exchanged concerns looks.

"Don't worry Elle. I'm sure that Azula will be able to figure that out for you." Ty Lee assured as she reached over to touch the smaller girl's back while she gazed imploringly at Azula's sighing face.

"I suppose I will just have to lend you my brilliance once more." Azula purred as she lowered her palm into her girlfriend's hair while Elle peered up at her with brightening amber eyes.

"A-arigatou gozaimasu Azula-sama." Elle spoke in a tender voice with Azula's hand resting on her head while the older girl reclined over her.

"Fear not dear. I'll show you how to wage war." The princess remarked in honeyed voice with a charismatic smile on her lips while her young girlfriend gazed up at her with adoration in her innocent eyes.

While she allowed the teenager to lean her head into her thigh once more while her palm remained in the smaller girl's plush hair.

All the while as both of her childhood friends shivered in renewed worry for their little sister's purity.

"Tell me child. Now that you are aware of your inheritance. What do you intend to do with it?" The sage queried in a weathered voice as she gazed back with glazed golden eyes at the teenager's confuddled face.

The three noblewomen remained silence while the young girl gazed ahead with confounded amber eyes.

Just before she turned to peer up at Azula's domineering face while the royal woman smiled with her fingers petting her scalp.

And not even a second later Elle began to melt like butter underneath Azula's hand while the princess's lips pulled into a controlling smirk.

All the while as the other three women let out another sigh over their monarch's overbearing behavior.

"As usual. It falls on me to make the decisions in this relationship." Azula spoke in a smug voice with a conceited smile on her lips while Mai gazed at her in annoyance through the corner of her eye.

"W-whatever Azula-sama orders." The blonde-haired girl stammered in a mousy voice with her princess smiling over her shoulder while her big sisters sweatdropped.

"That is not an acceptable answer! I asked what you intend to do. Not what the spoiled princess intends to do." Mava lectured with a finger pointing back at Elle's overwhelmed face while Azula's callous eyes stared back at her once more.

"Um…" Elle trailed off in an overcome voice with a hand falling over her face while Azula's lips creased into a scowl.

Only for the princess to be cut off before she could say a word.

"Just let Elle answer Azula." The markswoman stated with a frown on her lips while the princess turned to glare a hole through her forehead.

And then the teenager ran her fingers through her hair while she set her other hand on her knee.

"I…am going to do what…my mother did." The blonde-haired girl answered at long last while her friends and the sage gazed at her curiously.

While the princess sunk her posterior back in her seat as she sighed with her hand remaining planted in the girl's hair.

"Explain." The sage urged with something similar to approval in her voice as she held onto her staff.

"My mother… dedicated her life to the path to peace. She believed in helping others in whatever way she could no matter how small. It…was her belief that by doing so…we would come together as one and overcome the damage done by the wars of the past." Elle explained as she raised her emotional eyes upward while her audience listened in a speechless silence.

The acrobat and the markswoman sat in an emotional quiet while the captain leaned on the wall with her hazel eyes expressing a rare sense of moved emotion.

While sat with her callous eyes glaring ahead with suppressed aggravation in her stony gaze.

'Foolish girl! And what did your peace get your community but ashes and despair!' The princess thought with indescribable frustration in her hardened golden eyes

"No living being has the right to take the life of another. Those…those are the words that she lived by. And those…are the words that I believe." The blonde-haired girl declared with her hand falling from her face while her princess rolled her eyes over her shoulder.

"I see. What else does your path entail?" Mava asked as she leaned on the arm of her chair as blue fire crackled in the wood stove while the group listened in a bated quiet.

"Well, I can't answer that without involving Azula-sama because my path will always involve her. I am her sworn servant after all and I will continue to serve her for as long as I live…for all of my days." Elle explained in a devoted voice with a smile returning to her lips as she gazed over her shoulder into Azula's taken aback golden eyes.

While the three noblewomen listened to their young friend in a moved silence.

'Azula…I am so glad that you found Elle.' The brown-haired woman thought with her brown-gray eyes shimmering in affected emotion.

While the powerful princess gazed down at her loyal servant with her crimson lips agape in uncharacteristic appreciation.

'My Elle is loyal to her master…. I couldn't ask for a better servant.' Azula thought with the aggravation in her callous eyes giving way to a pleased gleam.

And her lips even twitched into the slightest hint of a smile.

"Are the princess's ways of war and conquest your path as well?" The sage pressed in a searching voice while all eyes turned to the teenager's adorably thoughtful face.

While the princess's lips curled into a smug smile once more as she sat over her servant with her palms clasped in her lap.

Only her golden eyes to flicker with bewilderment when the teenager shook her head.

"No. My path is love and peace." The blonde-haired girl announced with a returning smile while the princess now groaned behind her.

Ty Lee soon found herself smiling brightly once more.

And Mai just gazed at the girl with utter bafflement in her tawny eyes.

While Zoe found a small smile working its way onto her lips.

"Kid. Azula and love and peace don't mix." Mai informed in a deadpan voice with a fond shake of her head.

"Love and peace?" Mava repeated in a gruff voice while Azula rolled her eyes yet again.

"I don't profess to be able to change the world. Nor do I believe in forcing the whole world to do as I believe like the Avatar. But I will live as my mother lived. Helping out however I can." Elle stated in a passionate voice with a tear brewing in the back of her eye while her companions listened in a moved silence.

"You don't believe that you can create world peace?" The sage inquired in an inquisitive voice as the four highborn women gazed at their young friend in bewilderment.

Suffice to say that Elle was without doubt a strange one.

Yet they were fond of her all the same.

"I…I am just one girl that has spent most of her life lost never knowing who to run to or what to do. I could never be so arrogant as to think that I could bring peace to the entire world." The blonde-haired girl replied in a quiet voice with her amber eyes taking on a deeply thoughtful expression while her friends listened in a perplexed quiet.

"Elle…" Ty Lee whispered in a sentimental voice as she placed a hand on the teenager's shoulder while Elle gazed up with a smile still adorning her lips.

"But I will do what I can. Even if I can only help out one person. And even if it is only in the smallest of ways. If that's all I can do…then that's the way I'll flow." Elle concluded with a bright smile adorning her lips while she resolutely nodded her head.

The highborn women could only gaze on with baffled looks in their eyes while the sage seemed to almost smile in approval.

And now they began to see the difference between the Avatar and their young friend.

The Avatar believed himself to be the only one that could bring balance and peace to the world.

While Elle intended to touch people's lives on the micro scale, assisting others however she can. Even if her actions didn't bring about world peace.

If it brightened even one person's day, she would do it.

"Soft hearted peasant." The princess snorted in a pompous voice with roll of her eyes while she gazed down at her loyal servant's innocent face.

"That's so Azula-sama." The blonde-haired girl responded in a soft-spoken voice as she gazed up over her shoulder at her master's icy face.

While the princess's frigid golden eyes gazed down with the faintest sliver of emotion in her cold stare.

'So, this is Lana Turner's peace…' Azula thought with her regal lips pursing into a thin line while a flawless fingertip slid down her cheek.

A woman that believed in peace so strongly that she didn't waver in her beliefs even in the face of her own death.

A mother…who insisted that her son wasn't a monster.

Unlike…. her own mother.

'She was right though…. but…it still hurt.' The princess thought with a scowl on her beautiful lips before she scoffed under her breath.

And it was laughably apparent that Lana was wrong about Felix.

If it was any other peasant, she would call the woman a fool.

And yet…

For some inexplicable reason she has found that it was difficult to do so.

I am glad…that you will find friends to be there for you…and even happier that you will even find someone to love you. I just wish that I could be there to see it…I wish I could have met her.

'Elle's mother accepted me.' Azula thought with her lips shaking in a strange emotion while she clenched a fist before her face.

And then she crushed her palm together with blue fire blazing from her fist while her eyes narrowed dangerously.

'I am going to kill that man…Strados.' The princess thought with fire snorting from her nostrils as she glared ahead with wrathful golden eyes.

"Well, that's a start at least. It would seem that you are on the road to developing some independent thought after all." Mava remarked in a sage voice with a nod of her head as the others sweatdropped while Elle's eyes brightened after hearing those words.

While Azula sunk back in her seat with her golden eyes burning in disapproval over those words as she glared back at the old sage.

"Wise sage…I have another question. Until today…I didn't remember witnessing my mother awaken her power. Why…why is that?" Elle asked with her palms folding together in uncertainty while her companions listened in equal curiosity.

"I presume that you blocked it out. You were too young. Your mind simply could not process what had happened. You simply weren't ready to face it…so you purged it from your mind." The sage explained with a knowledgeable undertone to her voice while the teenager's youthful eyes grew wide in realization.

"So…that's why I couldn't remember." The blonde-haired girl murmured as she grasped at her sleeves in contemplation.

"That would explain why Elle didn't remember awakening her power when she was a small child." The captain commented with her hazel eyes staring back at the girl in concern.

While the princess stared on with cold golden eyes as she exchanged a momentary look with her close friends.

"That is correct. And even though she is older now. She is still young. She needed an emotional trigger to awaken her dormant power. And it would seem that in her case…her trigger is the princess." Mava stated as she gestured to Azula's pleased countenance while the three noblewomen turned to their leader.

"Azula is Elle's trigger?" The brown-haired woman questioned in a curious voice while a smile returned to the princess's lips.

"As I have said before. This one is truly in tuned with her master's needs." Azula boasted in a haughty voice with her palm patting Elle's head once more while her serving girl's eyes cheered up once more.

And her two lifelong friends let out another heavy sigh.

"Hm. More specifically when the spoiled princess is injured or placed in harm's way…" The sage trailed off in a suggestive voice as the young girl sat with her mouth agape in wonderment while the princess cold eyes flashed with a tiny sliver of emotion.

"When Azula-sama…is harmed…" Elle mumbled in a loyal voice with Azula's palm in her hair while her master stared down at her in approval.

And the three noblewomen listened in astonishment.

"Indeed. Elle's power is at its strongest when she feels that the princess's life is in danger." Mava remarked with her wrinkled hand clutching her staff while Elle's emotive amber eyes turned to peer up at Azula's stony face.

While the princess's beautiful lips parted in an expression of surprise while she gazed down into her loyal servant's innocent amber gaze.

"So…Elle reacts when Azula's life is on the line." The markswoman commented in a fascinated voice with her tawny eyes gazing at her little sister in astonishment.

The girl had to be the only person on the face of this entire planet that would have such a reaction to Azula facing a near death situation.

"Well, I can't say that surprises me. Elle is my most loyal servant after all. She serves her master well." The princess spoke in a voice of boundless approval as she patted her handmaiden's head while she smiled as the girl fell into her thigh.

"P-princess." The blonde-haired girl stammered in a lovesick voice with long fingers trailing through her hair while her princess patted her head.

"Aww. Now that's pink Azula." Ty Lee cooed in a gushing voice while Azula rolled her eyes with her hand still resting upon Elle's swooning head.

All the while as Mai let out another sigh beside her.

Only for everyone to turn to the captain when she pushed her back off the wall with a smirk forming upon her lips.

"So, if I brutalize the Crown Princess it will spur young Elle to master her power?" Zoe inquired with her lips curving into a smirk as she crackled her knuckles while Azula's imposing eyes glared her way.

And both Mai and Ty Lee both watched in amusement while Elle's eyes grew wide in adorable horror.

"There's only one way to find out." The sage teased while the princess glared daggers through her skull.

"Well then. Sit still princess. I am going to break your bones and knock out all of your teeth but don't fight back. It's for the good of the Fire Nation." The captain declared as she pounded her fists together as she took one step forward while her ruler glowered back at her.

Only for Mai and Ty Lee to sweatdrop when Elle cried out in lovable concern as she protectively held out her arms to shield the taken aback princess.

"N-no! Don't hurt Azula-sama Zoe! She's too beautiful to lose her teeth!" Elle cried out in a devoted voice while Azula smiled down at her in recognition.

"Oh Elle…" The brown-haired woman sighed in a fond voice as she smiled over the young girl's adorable love for her selfish friend.

"Calm yourself Elle. I was only jesting." Zoe assured with a placating wave of her hand while Elle still frantically sat with her little body protecting the smirking Azula.

"Well done servant. Your devotion to serve pleases me." Azula purred with her palms folded regally in her lap as she reclined like a true queen over her emotional servant.

While she gazed down dominantly into her young girlfriend's beyond worshipful amber eyes only for her smile to grow when the girl bowed her head in reverence.

"I…am proud to serve you Azula-sama. Now and forevermore." The blonde-haired girl answered with her head bent in respect while her princess's lips pulled into a wide smile.

"Do you see that Ty Lee? I approve of this one." The princess spoke in a gratified voice with her crimson lips forming a charming smile while the acrobat nodded her head.

"I see it Azula." Ty Lee replied with a still present smile while she observed the strange couple's interactions.

Elle sat on the floor with her head bent in a profound show of deference while Azula surveyed her with cold golden eyes.

"There is nothing that I would not do for you my queen." Elle murmured in a sweet voice with her hands in her lap while Azula stared down at her with stern yet protective golden eyes.

Before the princess casually waved a well-manicured hand to signal that she could rise.

"Your queen recognizes your loyalty. Now rise." Azula ordered with her arms resting on the sides of her seat while Elle sprang up on command.

And then she found herself unable to resist allowing her lips to pull into a fond smirk when her young servant sat back down at her booted feet.

"As my queen commands!" The blonde-haired girl chirped in a lovable voice as she sat with her head resting against her princess's leg once more while the older girl smirked in approval.

"See old woman. Component or not she serves me. And I expect you to tell me everything that pertains to my servant's power. Should you do otherwise…you will find yourself wishing you hadn't." The princess declared in a voice of absolute control with her imposing eyes staring imperiously ahead while her handmaiden smiled up at her.

While Ty Lee and Mai just gazed at their friend in exasperation over her continued rudeness to the old sage.

"Have it your way. I will tell you everything. But only because I can see that it is a lost cause trying to separate the young Component from your side." Mava responded in an exhausted voice with the wood stove still crackling with a bright blue flame.

And Azula sunk back in her seat with a pleased smirk gracing her beautiful lips while Elle still gazed up at her in endless admiration.

"It's good to know that we could have saved ourselves this miserable trek and just dangled Azula over the water for a few days instead." Mai stated with a small smirk on her lips as Azula turned to glare venomously her way while Elle gazed on in aghast horror.

While both Ty Lee and Zoe just smiled in amusement over Azula's ire.

However, the monarch chose to let the jab slide in favor of focusing on the matter at hand.

"You called the Avatar an unnatural blight upon this world. Tell me more about why you feel that way." Azula spoke in a sophisticated voice with her piqued golden eyes staring back at the elderly woman's fire-lit countenance.

While Elle sat at her feet with her amber eyes gazing on with a youthful eagerness to learn all that she could.

All the while as the three noblewomen also gazed at the sage in interest to know more.

"Because the world has become far too dependent on the Avatar for its own good. People make no effort to try to help themselves because they feel that the Avatar is going to save them." The sage stated in a bitter voice while the group gazed back in a fascinated silence.

"In order words you think the Avatar produces overall weakness?" The captain pondered in a contemplative voice with a hand under her chin while the princess gazed on in mutual perplexity.

"That is precisely what I am saying. It may not be an opinion that many agree with but I stand by it all the same." Mava grumbled in a tired voice while Azula gazed on with a scheming gleam in her cold golden eyes.

"In other words, the Avatar is your enemy?" The princess purred as she glanced up from her well-trimmed fingernails while her childhood friends listened warily.

"The Avatar is no friend of mine." The sage stated in a hoarse voice while the princess's callous hawklike eyes now flickered with a controlling stare.

'How delightfully advantageous. I possess Elle…and her Component. And now I have the old sage at my full disposal. All of her secrets…everything that she knows. Now belong to me. And to top it all off…we have an enemy in common in the Avatar.' Azula thought with her icy golden eyes taking on a manipulative look while her palm fell back into her lap.

While her cold gaze glanced back down at her handmaiden's obedient back before she turned her imposing stare back to the old woman herself.

All that remains to be done is to deal with the unpredictable variables.

Those being that wretch Silah and that young girl Naoki. Not to mention any other invaders from her girlfriend's homeland.

"Don't think that I don't know what you're thinking brat! You're thinking about how you are going to use me for your own gain! I have been around far longer than you and I know how you greedy royals think! So, don't even think for a moment that you can pull a fast one on me!" Mava snapped in a rasping voice while Azula's ruthless golden eyes flashed with a moment of surprise.

Only to find herself recovering not even seconds afterward as she narrowed her gaze into a fearsome death glare.

While the princess's eyes shook in even further fury when she heard her captain chuckling in amusement from the other side of the room.

All the while as her two childhood friends watched from the sidelines in entertainment.

"It would seem that she has you pegged princess." Zoe quipped with her arms crossed over her breasts while Azula turned to scowl in her direction.

"Dirty peasant! By the time I am through with you I promise that you will learn to speak to your monarch with respect!" The princess bellowed with fire exuding from her mighty lips while her two lifelong friends sighed once more.

Only for her cold golden eyes to glance down at her boots when she felt a dainty hand tug on her pantleg while she now glared down into her servant's emotional amber eyes.

"Please don't fight Azula-sama." Elle pleaded in a soft voice with her hands grasping her master's leggings while Azula glowered down at her.

All the while as Ty Lee hid her grin as she watched the two from where she sat on the sidelines.

"It's not for you to give me orders servant!" Azula scoffed with a prideful snort of blue fire as she angrily folded her arms over her armored breasts while her handmaid still held onto her knee.

While the three noblewomen observed them in amusement.

"But lucky for you…I have use for you as well." The sage stated in a grumble while the princess's cold eyes narrowed as she stared back at her.

"I demand that you elaborate further on your opposition to the Avatar." The princess commanded in a supremely authoritative voice with her palms regally folding in her lap once more.

While she gazed on with hard golden eyes while she inwardly took great enjoyment in how her young girlfriend held onto her leg.

"Many people are capable of achieving more than they know. But they will never find out. Because they are complacent fools." Mava ranted as she sat over the blazing fire while Azula's golden eyes flickered with fascination.

All the while as her four companions listened in an equally intrigued silence.

"The Avatar…makes people complacent?" The blonde-haired girl asked in an attentive voice while the old hermit nodded her head.

"That is right child. For instance. You would be surprised to find out that there are ways that even those who are born as nonbenders can learn to bend and weaponize their own chi.” The sage remarked with a deeply sagacious undertone to her throaty voice while the entire group now gazed back in disbelief.

Mai and Ty Lee sat with their mouths agape in shock while both Azula and Zoe gazed on with stunned eyes.

"How?" The brown-haired woman asked with sudden curiosity in her voice while her fellow noble stared on with equal interest in her eyes.

"As of right now I will not divulge that information. You serve a selfish despot. You'll have to figure that out for yourselves." Mava informed with a wave of her wrinkled hand while both noblewomen deflated as they turned to glare back at Azula's once more seething face.

"Thanks, Azula." The markswoman scoffed in a monotone voice with her tawny eyes staring back at the princess's callous face in aggravation.

Although she couldn't blame the old sage.

Azula has disrespected the hermit from the moment that they first met.

'Even though she won't tell us now…if she speaks the truth. Then that means that there is a way for me to get stronger.' Mai thought with a determined expression in her eyes while she clenched a fist at her robed hip.

And then she could even the playing field with Zoe.

But more important than that.

'I can better protect my little sister.' The markswoman mused as she turned to gaze at the teenager's sweet face with a resolute look in her eyes.

"You have no right to complain. Just weeks ago, you betrayed me for Zuko. You should consider yourself fortunate that you even draw breath." Azula hissed with fire snorting from her nostrils while Mai recoiled in returning shame under her intimidating glare.

Only for the mighty princess's eyes to glare down once more when she felt her servant pull on her wrist.

"Azula-sama…" Elle murmured in a gentle voice with her soft hands holding Azula's palm while the older woman let out a prideful growl.

And yet despite that she didn't push her away.

"But even though most of humanity has become complacent under the Avatar Cycle. There are still select talented benders who are able to rise above their limits." The sage commented with her wrinkled face staring into the fire while the group listened in amazement once more.

And both Azula and Zoe found themselves gazing on with unbridled curiosity in their eyes.

"I order you to tell me about this power." The princess demanded with insatiable inquisitiveness in her cold eyes while her serving girl listened in wonder at her feet.

"These benders are called ascendants." Mava announced in an enrapturing voice while the team stared on in awe.

"Ascendants?" The captain repeated in a captivated voice with her hazel eyes growing wide in hunger.

"Indeed. And I sense that the two of you are on the verge of reaching ascendancy." The sage remarked in an unbelievably perceptive voice while the two firebenders gazed on in an utterly enthralled silence.

The princess and the captain could only stare on with uncontrolled desire in their eyes.

While they simultaneously swelled in pride over their unrivaled their bending like never before.

And the two noblewomen could only shudder as they gazed at the two from the sidelines.

'Joy. That's the last thing we needed. Now Azula's ego is going to soar even higher.' Mai thought with annoyance in her eyes while Azula's lips were already creasing into a proud smile.

Just before the two women sighed when the princess pounded a powerful fist on the arm of her chair while she smiled even more arrogantly than ever before.

"As it should be. This is even more proof of my divine right to rule. Very soon I shall conquer this world as an ascendant and dominate the Earth!" Azula exclaimed in a supremely hubristic voice with a domineering smile gracing her lips while her fists now burned in blue fire.

All the while as she sat on her simple wooden chair as if it was an extravagant throne with a devilish smirk adorning her beautiful lips.

While the three noblewomen gazed on in an awkward silence.

And the sage rolled her eyes.

Only for the sound of enthusiastic clapping to soon resonate into the air while the tyrannical princess seemed to swell even further under her girlfriend's praise.

While she now gazed down at her young servant with smug golden eyes that greatly delighted in the teenager's limitless worship.

"You go Azula-sama! You can do it! I believe in you!" The blonde-haired girl cried out with a lovable look of adoration in her eyes while her big sisters shook their heads.

"And you peasant. You will bow at the foot of my throne." The princess sighed as she sunk back in her seat with her fists relaxing on the arms of her chair while her loyal follower hurriedly nodded in agreement.

"M-my Fire Queen." Elle stammered as she gazed up at Azula like a lovesick puppy while the older girl smiled down at her.

Only for their moment to be swiftly interrupted by the sound of the old hermit scoffing.

"Don't get too full of yourself. You're not there yet. And you should both know that Silah is already an ascendant." Mava scoffed in a rasping voice as the team now fell into a horrified silence.

And just like that the princess and the captain were staring on with a look of renewed frustration towards the demented puppeteer.

"I command you to tell me how I achieve this state." Azula snarled in a forceful voice only for her golden eyes to boil in fury when the old woman scoffed once more.

"That I will also not disclose." The sage answered in a taunt while the princess's glacial eyes burned in great anger.

Only for her captain to speak before she could get the chance.

"I take it…that you won't tell us any of this information unless we can do something to appease you." Zoe stated in a calmer voice with her arms folded over her chest while Azula's golden eyes bubbled in ire once more.

"You deduce correctly. You need me more than I need any of you. It makes no difference to me either way. But that is not the case for you." Mava spoke in a fearless voice with her glazed eyes staring ahead while the team listened in a taken aback silence.

"You dare to threaten me?" The princess questioned in a wrathful voice as she clenched her fists at her sides.

Yet as much as it infuriated her to admit it.

The old hermit was right.

"You're certainly a shrewd one. But now I believe I understand what you were trying to say about the Avatar Cycle holding humanity back." The captain spoke in a reflective voice while the others turned to gaze at her in curiosity.

And Azula rose a brow as she gazed at her warrior through the corner of her golden eye.

"Do you?" The sage asked in turn while the captain stoically nodded her head.

"You told all four of us that we could break past our limits and achieve strength previously thought impossible. What you are saying is that benders and nonbenders alike will become exponentially stronger if they forgo their reliance upon the Avatar. And therefore, strengthening humanity as a whole." Zoe declared with her hazel eyes gazing back at the hermit's impressed countenance while her companions listened in a taken aback silence.

"Impressive deduction. At least one of you can talk without spewing insults." Mava hummed in an approving voice with her hand grasping her staff while Zoe turned to cast a victorious smile in Azula's glaring direction.

And suffice to say both Mai and Ty Lee were awed by the old woman's beliefs.

Despite the harm that the Fire Nation was undoubtedly causing.

The sage believed that people would be strong as a whole if they were no longer reliant on a savior.

"And that's not all is it? You're telling us this so we can become stronger to face something other than the Avatar. Isn't that right?" The captain pondered as she straightened while her ruler turned to the sage with her elegant brows rising in growing interest.

"You perceive correctly Zoe Song." The sage responded in a graver voice than before while the team gazed on in fascination.

"D-does this have to do with what I saw in my vision?" The blonde-haired girl asked in a fearful undertone once more while her princess sat protectively above her.

"Everything and more." Mava answered in a deathly serious voice as Elle trembled once more with her amber eyes staring on in unhidden fright.

While all four highborn women gazed on in growing concern for their young friend's wellbeing.

"What is the name of this force that threatens my servant's life?" Azula demanded in a frigid voice with her callous eyes staring imperiously ahead while her lips pursed into a regal scowl.

Only to find herself gazing down with narrowed golden eyes when she took note that her young girlfriend was trembling like a leaf.

Elle's amber eyes grew as wide as can be as she recalled the sensation of terror that flowed throughout her body when she gazed at the inhuman eye.

And then just like that the teenager felt as if a presence was almost sweeping over her.

"It's…it's about the e-entity that I felt in my vision isn't it?" Elle inquired in a shaken voice with Azula staring down at her with bewildered golden eyes.

"Entity?" Ty Lee questioned with her brown-gray eyes agape in worry for her little sister while she reached out to place a calming hand on the younger girl's shoulder

While Mai frowned from where she sat beside them.

And Zoe stared on with an intently focused hazel gaze once more.

All the while as Azula gazed on with her domineering golden eyes taking on a ruthlessly defensive countenance.

As the old hermit gazed back with eerily glazed over golden eyes that somehow rendered all of them into a speechless silence.

"Yes, Elle. I speak of the being called the Primordial One." The sage announced in an ominous voice while the young girl sat with her amber eyes agape in fright.

And the four highborn women were struck into a baffled state of quiet beside her.

Not a single one of them understand what the old sage spoke of.

But one detail was clear.

They had dangerous enemies upon their horizon that were beyond their understanding.

#Azula #yuri #Avatar The Last Airbender #ty lee avatar #mai avatar

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diyunho · 5 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “Queen Of The Damned”

In the whole eternity, The Queen of the Underworld only loved once: he was mortal and died shortly after she gave him a child. So when The Joker says he’s a Prince, he’s not actually lying or being a presumptuous lunatic: the green haired man is in fact royalty and sole heir to The Realm Below.

“Stop fidgeting!!!” the nurse admonishes. “This is a new experimental drug and it will help you, OK?” she tries to reason with the patient confined inside a straitjacket, heavy chains bounding him to the metal table.

“Let me go!” he hisses and tries to bite her as she checks his neck for pulse.

“I can’t let you go, Mister Joker. We’re trying to make you better, alright?” the caregiver dodges his teeth before J can sink them in her flesh.

“If you don’t untie me, my Mother will come!!! She doesn’t like it if I’m in danger!”

“Shut the hell up, you insane bastard!” the attending physician can’t hold in his bitterness while mixing the serum.

“Doctor Reeves!” the woman raises her voice. “That’s not the way we talk! I know you are new at Arkham Asylum, but I would really appreciate it if you treat our cases with respect!”

“I’m sorry,” the physician apologizes for his unprofessional remark. “He gets on my nerves!”

“Yes well… Please keep your personal opinions to yourself because they’re not doing any good! The patient is very agitated; would you like me to take over?” she offers and gets cut off.

“I don’t need your expertise, I’m a doctor for God’s sake!”

“I wasn’t implying otherwise,” the nurse sighs at his obvious crankiness; why does she have to be stuck during the night shift with Reeves?! Arkham’s South Wing is already harboring the worst criminals and a psychiatrist that took the job for the thrills can’t possibly render assistance to the troubled convicts incarcerated here.

“I’m done,” he taps the syringe and approaches The Joker when the lights suddenly flicker. “Another power outage?! The storm is not that bad!” the guy rants and doesn’t realize the prisoner is not struggling to escape anymore.

“My Mother’s coming!” the most demented smile flourishes on The Joker’s lips. “I warned you!” he maniacally starts laughing with delight. “You should have listened!”

A low rumble shakes the immense building and the convoluted hallways fill up with mist: the Queen of The Realm Below steps in the world of the living again, surrounded by her loyal army of twisted warriors.

“Protect The Prince!” the invisible wraiths shriek, crawling on the walls in order to destroy the cameras. Some fly through brick and metal with the sole purpose of fulfilling their ruler’s command: no greater honor than aid her son trapped in the human kingdom.

He often gets in trouble and somehow miraculously vanishes or avoids hazardous situations; this is his first time at Arkham and the authorities will believe tonight’s events are an inside job or simply an elaborate breakout plotted by The Joker’s team.

Ironically enough The King of Gotham is not even crazy: his mind works on a totally different level due to the unearthly heritage. There is no cure for a person that’s not sick, no medicine or therapy allegedly mending something that’s not fractured.

“Why isn’t the generator kicking in?” Reeves stares at the ceiling and the nurse carefully listens, pointing out a disturbing detail:

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” the doctor crinkles his nose. “It’s silent.”

“Exactly,” she mutters. “Why is it so quiet?”

“I have no idea,” he prepares to poke The Joker’s arm when the halogen bulbs instantly go out. “Ana, can you…” the psychiatrist mumbles as the lights turn back on. “Finally!” he turns towards the woman and gasps at the frightening apparition standing next to him. Your sword whooshes in the stillness and the corpse falls to the ground, abruptly followed by the caregiver’s: both didn’t have the opportunity to process what they saw by pure coincidence. It was gone in a second along with their existence.

The Queen towers over the medical ward, slowly taking off her helmet; her hair intensely burns, eternally fueled by the fires of The Underworld.

“You came!” The Joker face brightens up with pure happiness noticing the creatures’ claws release him from his constraints: they grumble, coo and chirp seeing The Prince is safe and sound; he pets a few kneeling at his feet while rushing in your arms. “Mother!” J sniffles and you hold him tight until his body relaxes a little bit.

“Are you hurt?” you whisper and your son pouts, burying his cheeks in the cold silver of your plated armor.

“No,” the muffled word prompts a kiss on his forehead; The Joker lets go, unwilling to watch his mother depart: he’s aware she can’t linger for too long, yet the desire to stay close to her never fades. “When are you going to take me with you?” the piercing blue eyes inherited from his father glare into yours.

“Soon,” the elusive reply makes him frown.

“You promised and I’m always left behind!”

How can you explain why he’s still here?... J wouldn’t comprehend what coming with you to The Realm Below means: he would have to get rid of his mortal shell and you just don’t have the strength to witness him die.

Despite the horrifying moniker, The Queen of The Damned is neither good nor evil; her actions are invariably guided by circumstances.

She takes care of lost, damaged spirits and although powerful and feared, Y/N is also the recipient of her legions’ constant devotion, for no other Monarch of The Underworld ever enjoyed being cherished by its subject as much as you are.

The abomination born from her love with a human didn’t diminish the horde’s allegiance: it actually made them adore The Queen more because affection is desperately craved in The Realm Below and they can’t wait to have a Prince willing to share his Mother’s duties!

But The Joker’s arrival keeps on getting postponed…

“You know what I’ll do?” J mischievously snickers. “I’m gonna call my crew and tell them to pick me up. The mystery of how I’m able to walk out of this place without their intervention will drive them nuts! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” his sinister chuckle resonates in the room; he feels such gratification thinking about it one could presume he’s in a cheerful disposition. “Did you clear the path for me?” The Prince inquires and the entities snarl, excited he’s paying attention to their mighty deeds. “Perfect!” your son praises. “I’ll signal when to open the gates, ok?”

They growl at his approval and you have to interrupt the joyful mood:

“I have to go…”

“Is dad waiting for you?” J asks, already guessing the answer.

“Yes,” you nod and reassure: “Don’t worry, I’ll return when you need me!”

Before the sentence ends The Queen disappears, abandoning her descendant inside the Arkham Asylum. The Joker sulks, upset he can’t follow you and gets distracted by the commotion created on the other side of Block H: apparently some guards weren’t annihilated as expected.

“You said you cleared the path!” he scolds and picks up the phone, dialing Frost’s number. “No matter, I’ll get reinforcements and we’ll make this a party on our own, hm?” the silver grin widens at the concept of fighting his way out himself.

In the meantime, J’s mother materializes by the Endless Wall that separates The Realm Below from The Realm Above: its transparent, glass like composition is meant to keep you apart from the man you love. Why?

The response is easy: The King reigning over The Realm Above always craved your fondness and felt betrayed when you gave your attention to a mere human; deciding to give Kai a child was the epitome of mockery for the jealous emperor. He never accepted your choices had nothing to do with him. Thus he took the matters in his own hands and ensured Kai’s demise, making certain you won’t be able to save him: the mortal you loved was killed in a car crash and went to The Realm Above, which was the plan all along. Since The Joker’s father was at peace when he passed and not a lost, broken soul, he didn’t wind up in your kingdom; The Emperor sealed the borders as soon as Kai appeared on his domain, making sure you won’t touch or hear each other again.

You tried to break the spell without success: only the one that casted such magic could reverse it and The King has no intention to do so. He likes torturing The Queen of The Damned and her beloved, that’s why he lingers in the shadows to glutton at their agony every time they meet.

Today is no exception and it sure brings The Emperor great comfort to view the aftermath of his revolting actions: it probably hurts because you’re unable to do more than gaze at the man you love. Such a fit punishment for a stuck-up Queen rejecting his proposal. You sure got what you deserved! All the powers you possess are useless against his impenetrable curse unleashed out of pure resentment.

Hmm… what’s going on?... You suddenly seem flustered and The King is trying to estimate on the motive; Kai keeps on calling your name, yet you can’t discern the sounds anyway. You swiftly fade in a hurry, neglecting to wave goodbye for a valid pretext: the sharp ache in your chest alerted that something awful happened to your son.

**************

The Joker is lying on the floor, almost unconscious from the blood loss. The red stain under him is growing bigger and bigger, reaching the collapsed security officers that stood between J and his freedom. He was overly hyped and decided to create mayhem: being reckless provoked the dark side of his personality and he didn’t wait for his gang nor allowed the wraiths to intervene.

The Clown Prince of Crime definitely counts on his Mother’s aid, therefore he doesn’t have to worry about consequences to his endeavors. He trusts you won’t fail to show up and get him out of messy situations like this one.

“M-mother…”, The Joker wheezes as you hover over him. “Mother… h-help me…”, he begs and your hesitation puzzles your heir; his father distracted you and in exchange J got severely injured.

“… …. …. I won’t… I can’t have your father, but I’ll take you…” The Queen confesses, adamant to overcome her delay in fulfilling his wish for years. Maybe she won’t be determined like she is now if another chance will arise in the future.

“Really?...” the hope in his tone makes you sadder. “Mother…” he winces in pain, trying to touch you. “Please h-help me…It…it hurts…”

You grab his fingers and squeeze them in yours, pecking his tattooed knuckles.

“I know…I’m sorry…”

“W-why won’t you…” and he pauses, taking a last labored breath, “…help m-me?!...”

His eyelids are closing, the individual labeled as one of the worse criminals lastly fleeing the prison of his mortal half. The Joker is dead and The Prince of The Realm Below emerges from his remains, stunned to wake up next to you.

“Mother?...” he blinks and you cup his face, relieved you had the courage to do what you deferred in the past.

“It’s ok,” you smile. “You’ll get used to the sensation, give it a few moments,” you pass your hand to his burning hair, amazed at the terrifying beauty he was blessed with thanks to his ancestry.

“Boss!!!”

“Mister Joker!!”

“Mister J, where are you?” the questions echo in the deserted Block H: his henchmen finally infiltrated the area, spooked at the unnerving feeling that something is shady. When they arrived, the Asylum’s gates were open; nobody around on the street, no guards, no medical personnel, nobody they could spot anywhere on their way to pick up The Joker as instructed.

“Over here!” Frost shouts and rushes to The Joker’s corpse, swiftly taking his pulse. “Shit!” he mumbles when he detects no heartbeat.

“What the fuck?!” Panda is the second to stumble on the scene, baffled to notice his employer covered in blood wearing just a pair of sweatpants.

“We need to get out this instant!” Frost commands as the others join the small group. “Help me carry him!”

“J?..” a woman’s voice emerges. “J?” the visibly pregnant Ava runs on the empty corridor. “Oh my God!” she panics when she sees them trying to lift him up. “J?” she gently caresses his face, panicked when there’s no movement. “Is he dead?” she presses on his wounds and starts crying since the guys are quiet. “Aren’t you going to do anything??!!” she screams, desperate to acknowledge not too much can be done.

“… Mother…” The Prince articulates and you already predict his request: “… Can I stay?”

Who else understands him better to begin with? He loves the mortal and you can relate to his anguish. Of course he wants to go with you also, yet there are things that are holding him back in the human world.

“I suppose I’m condemned to ages of loneliness…” you utter and give him a violent nudge before you change your mind.

The Prince falls back into his body; The Joker gasping for air makes Frost and Panda almost drop him on the marble floor.

“J!” Ava exclaims in disbelief. “Baby??!!” she brings her ear to his lips because he’s saying something.

“Mother… Mother…” J faintly repeats and the woman misinterprets. “Yes, I’m going to be a mom and you’re going to be a dad. You already know this, hm?” she caresses his face. “Be careful!” Ava reprimands as they wrap Richard’s jacket around The Joker and Panda drags a stretcher next to them.

“Jesus boss, we thought we lost you!” Jonny adds and barely deciphers his reply:

“You’re not that lucky…”

The Joker keeps staring at The Queen and the army hidden to the rest of them: she’s leaving and although weakened, he wants to apologize for generating more sorrow when she doesn’t deserve it.

“Forgive me…” J whispers and your last words only he can discern give him unexpected bliss:

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

**************

You come near the transparent wall, seeking to find consolation even if it’s impossible: Kay is on the other side, the palm of his right hand against the invisible barrier. You cover it with yours, wishing you could tell him so much but what’s the point?... He can’t hear you.

“I couldn’t bring him with me,” The Queen whispers nevertheless. “He wanted to stay… and I couldn’t force him…”

Something is trickling down your face and you touch it, confused.

What is this?! Tears don’t exist in The Underworld; a few drip on the barrier and it starts sizzling to your legion’s dismay. They sniff the bubbly fumes, curiously scratching at the expanding chain reaction: the wall is melting.

You and Kay watch the gap becoming larger and larger until there’s enough space to fit. Is this real or an illusion?!

I guess you’ll have to find out so you take a few shaky steps towards him, not being able to suppress your astonishment when he yanks you in his arms.

The Emperor is lurking in the shadows, furious his unbreakable magic is dissipating with each passing moment. Your warriors are granted free passage again and they spill inside The Kingdom Above, howling while awaiting orders.

As she hugs the man she loves, The Mother of lost spirits sneers through her clenched teeth:

“Attack!”