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Uncharted - Behind-The-Stunts

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TOM HOLLAND as NATHAN DRAKE — Uncharted (2022) dir. Ruben Fleischer

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Tom Holland as Nathan Drake UNCHARTED | 2022, dir. Ruben Fleischer

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@thsndsptlghts​ Going through it was something of an understatement for Douglas right now. Ever since his athair - his father - came back into his life, his world was flipped upside down. Everything he thought he knew was challenged; how he functioned, how he thought, how he survived. He was exhausted by it all, quietly wishing things were as they used to be. It was simpler before. He just did as he was told - and did it well - and he’d gotten great satisfaction out of it. All he wanted to do was follow orders, not follow his heart, and there was a craving for a simpler time.

His ballet shoes had collected dust. He hadn’t used them since his hunter had passed. The thought of it had made him hurt over Charles’ absence, but he found himself looking for comfort in his past, in an old routine, an old skill that had been a simple, yet warming way for him and his stern caretaker to connect over. 

He avoided the studio in the empty manor, though, not interested in a ghost accompanying him, reminding him too much of his absence, and decided to seek out a local dance studio instead.

Douglas hoped to find an empty room, but it seemed most were taken, full to the brim with people for lessons or rehearsals. When he was about to give up, he walked by the last room, noticing one single woman practicing a segment that he recognized from swan lake, and he stopped and leaned into the doorframe to watch.

“Impressive fouette,” Douglas commented as he admired the grace in her spins and kicks, his gaze relaxed, stoic. “Do you mind if we share the room? Everything else seems to be taken.”

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lovesucked​:

“R-Right…right. Sorry.” It’s instinctive to apologize now when he hears that tone especially from wolves. Like he was nothing more than a leech. Like he was some kind of monster. They were right weren’t they? His throat feels tight with emotion but it doesn’t stave the flood of excitement that pours out like an open vein. Years he’s kept to himself wound up tight and silent refusing to get close for fear of harming someone. The thought of harming Doug has his stomach twisting almost violently.

“It’ll be beautiful. The smog means nothing in an observatory. It’s just you and the quiet and the night sky.” Excitement felt like an understatement and James’ face feels hot with quiet embarrassment. He’d forgotten that it’s been years since they played together and months almost a year since they’d written. Maybe Doug didn’t like the person he was, the person he’d always been. His chest feels tight but he’s grateful that there’s not more sharp words flung. Gods he might’ve cried more and where would that leave him?

He liked the idea of going to classes together. “Maybe you’d give it a try, you could sit in on my history class if you want.” It’s a weak admission and James knows that Doug always preferred the quiet and before he was a vampire it was easy to talk slower, calmer, not as if the words were built up and needed to escape. Looking over the other’s face he’s quiet and he wants to ask just what happened, what was his friend not telling him?

Fuair ​​Charles bás.

James is quiet, eye burning with fresh tears he knows Douglas won’t let slip out. “Oh,” he breathes out, blinking through tears. It’s that and the words that follow that have him hiccuping on a breath and he knows it would be easier to let go and back away. But James has never been one for easy. “Oh I get it now.” Hot tears drip off his chin and he’s sniffling back a sob. He still hasn’t gotten used to this, to feeling things so strongly and sharply.

He never expected to have a reason again.

“It was…it was vampires wasn’t it? You…You really think I’m like them? You think I had a choice with my parents? You think I’m just s-some…”

-

Douglas’ chin raised at James’ reply, sensing the insecurity in his response. “It’s okay,” he said with a sigh, having to remind himself that this was his friend, not the wolves he had to defend his status against, or the hunters he had to prove himself to. Defensiveness was a natural response. 

“That does sound nice,” the young werewolf hung his head to the side, “I could use a break from the smog. I miss seeing the stars, and the moon. Not that you can’t see that here but - it doesn’t feel the same in the city.”

“I’d be more interested in your science classes,” Douglas admitted, curious but selectively, “I miss studying. It was fun telling each other what we’d learned in our letters. I remember when I’d finally wrapped my head around types of genetic mutations and their impact as the raw material of evolution, and wrote you a 7 page letter about it. Meanwhile, I wouldn’t know the in depth detail about how a star collapses in on itself to form a supernova from your letters.” A smile finally broke onto his face, remembering fondly the thick envelopes that would come in the mail. They were his view into a world outside of his world, and he’d kept every one.

Douglas took a step back when James got more emotional, looking away and eyes dropping to shy away from emotions he didn’t care to re-experience.  He rolled his shoulders back, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets as he licked his lips and took in a deep breath. “It was - yeah,” he said, his voice hushed as he looked around, nervous about drawing attention to them. “Don’t over react. I didn’t say that. I asked you a question, which you haven’t answered, so stop making assumptions or I’ll start making up my own,” he growled, impatient with the unfiltered emotions the vampire was experiencing. “I hate that you’re a vampire, but I don’t hate you.”

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ofkalea​:

  “Oh…I haven’t tried any of those, at least not when being actively attacked.” Kalea responded, tone suggesting it was one of the most obvious things. “But yea, actually-” On cue she tugged the dagger out swiftly from it’s hidden scabbard in her back beltloop, holding the handle out to Douglas gingerly. “You can check to see if I’m joking or not, this was a gift from a friend.” A soft hum fell from her lips as she lips quirked up in the corners, an idea popping into her head. “Ya know, since you seem quite the expert in these things, maybe you could train me or something. Teach me some tricks to protect myself.” It’d give her an excuse to see him again.

She could almost see the questions in his eyes, which made her heart ache a little. He really didn’t remember any of it, did he. Not them holding onto each other’s hand for some sort of comfort in the terrifying things they’d seen, not him saving her from the shadows in the library…not the kiss in the Archives or before they left each other. None of it. Kalea nodded her head. “Yea, I ran into you and then we were not so gracefully transported to the steps.” She didn’t want to drudge up their not-so-happy reunion. At his thanks, she smiled softly. “Thank you, I’m glad we were able to take Merlin down.” Her voice died off towards the end, head tilting slightly as she looked up at him, gaze gentle. “If you don’t mind me asking, what did you see in the Archives?” 

-

Doug’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the dagger, keeping his arms crossed against his chest and did not take it. He wasn’t thrilled to see something that could kill him. He took a step back, starring at her like he was trying to figure her out when she suggested he teach her. He would say no, had she not had excalibur. “If it means that sword isn’t going to fall into the wrong hands, sure, I’ll teach you how to not make dumb survival decisions,” he said, his tone short, impatient, but similarly earnest in not wanting to see her get hurt if he could help it. She was human. It wasn’t her fault that she was naturally prey for most creatures - but he could help her with that.

“We didn’t take him down,” Doug corrected her, growing more irritable as the pieces had fallen into place regarding the supernatural event, “We just finished carrying out his agenda. I’ve taken down a lot of things in my life and none of them ever ended like that.”  He looked uncomfortable at the thought, squirming a little like chills ran down his spine at her question. His experience had been bitter sweet. What he would have done to switch positions with her. “I had a family reunion,” he started, his expression sharing his own disbelief over what he’d experienced in the heart of the archives. “One of my ancestors spoke to me. I had to sacrifice-” he hesitated, stumbling over himself before he continued with a slight auto-correct,”-something that was important to me to kill the Le Fay bloodline that had cursed Myyrdin - Merlin. That wall of flesh used at the end was the last Le Fay - which is why I don’t think we stopped him. I think we just helped him get to his goal without having to cut corners.”

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agxsos​:

Deep underground, The Archives was a slumbering creature reawakened and invigorated by the events that had passed. Whatever magic was set alive thrummed dull and quiet with a pale blue light running in veins through obsidian stone. If there were runes, they remain imperceptible and unseen as the light thrums and pulses slowly as if a steady heartbeat unheard to all.

Douglas’ voice does not echo just as before, the sound seemingly swallowed up before it could go too far beyond the overlook where several tables and chairs lay. As the young wolf speaks, the dancing lights descend swirling lazily around him as a deep yawning rumble slips free. The stairwell nearby huffs warm breath, glassy black eyes peering at Douglas as old oak stretches across and leads upwards. Clawed hands sink into obsidian floors and yet do not break the stone, it’s as if it sinks in seamlessly blending together as the carved griffin head rests near the railing. Far above, there is movement, tomes readjusting and fluttering and at the landing above the oaken griffin stairs there is a figure that leans out.

“We all have questions, what you really want are answers don’t you think?”

Ambrose’s voice echoes, a heavy weight to it as he speaks across the divide. There’s a slow knowing smile given and the man turns, hands running along the railing with fond familiarity as he circles the nearby table. Once Douglas crosses the stairwell, the witch motions to the chair across from where he’s seated. A cup of tea is held delicately in one hand and he takes a careful sip before setting it aside. There is another low almost imperceptible yawn and rumble that has an amused glance given towards the flickering veins of light far below. “Sea, cuirfidh mé in iúl dó.” Yes, I will let him know, Ambrose says seemingly to nothing and no one but there is a flutter of lights that circle and tickle the young wolf’s hair before bouncing away.

“Ecne says she’s grateful to the boy that saved her heart.”

-

Douglas held his breath steady, braced to respond as an energy stirred to life and the ancient library seemed to wake at the sound of his voice. He watched carefully, prepping himself to act quickly if he sensed any sign of danger. In truth, he felt no danger, nothing that bristled the hair on the back of his neck, but he had learned to not let himself be disarmed by the feeling of safety. Perhaps because of his own tactics in a hunt, allowing his target to get a sense of a successful escape or safety in his friendship before ensnaring them in a trap. Those were the hunts that made Charles’ beam with pride over him, when no violence at all needed to be used; just Doug’s smile and disarming friendliness. He was a natural at lying.

There was a warmth in the Archives that was strange to him while he watched how it responded, the staircases animated, breathing, like they too were alive and their own beings. He tensed when he saw movement, someone leaning over the rail and speaking in a familiar tone that set him on edge. He exhaled sharply through his nose, raising his head and squaring his shoulders as he walked across the stairwell closer to him. “I do, yes,” he replied simply, taking a seat across from him. He went silent as the Archives seemed to chime in on the conversation, responding almost playfully? to him. He tilted his head to the side a little, curious now as more questions seemed to pile onto his list.  “Ecne?” He repeated, his gaze skittering around to the living environment around them. There were a thousand things he could ask. “I saved her?” The young werewolf said, not looking to disrespect the power that surrounded him, “Why was it - “he paused to correct himself, “-she in danger to begin with? What would have happened if I hadn’t?”

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Chaos Walking (2021)

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lovesucked​:

There’s a toothy grin given. “Ah chuaigh tú dúchais.” Ah you went native. And it made sense, outside of the North and - from what he’d seen and remembered - Doug’s own home, not many people went around talking in Gaelic. Of course he’d let his excitement get the better of him and he’d talked quicker than he could draw breath to speak. James knows he doesn’t really need to breathe but it’s habit. All of it is because it still feels like part of him is getting used to being this way. “Sure you say that now but did you know there’s plans for the University to build an observatory in the mountains nearby? Can you imagine how cool it’ll be? I guess it’s for tourism and all that but dude it’s stars!”

Ever since he was little he loved the stars with inhuman ferocity. His mother used to joke that he must’ve been descended from them and not normal flesh and blood people. So of course he still remembers some of his earliest memories telling Doug very seriously that he was almost one hundred percent sure the moon was his real mother.

It was - it was nice remembering things like that.

“Frustrating! But you would love it.” James answers without thinking, finding it easy to talk for once because it’s not like classes where he has to chew his pen cap and fidget uncomfortably in his seat just to keep from going on a tangent about why Kathy Jacks was wrong about star alignments and really he just wanted to hear more about Terzan 2 not prep for mid-terms. But he’s smiling again because he can’t help it and - “You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve learned. They let me double major into history too because I always loved the books your dad would bring out and read and of course that lead me to go into studying runes and old languages and how they evolved with history. Oh! And I can draw a lot better now too though honestly my art teacher is hateful and smells like eggs. I’m pretty sure that she’s planning on failing me because she thinks I stole her still life fruit but honestly who wants colorful plastic though it was pretty funny when someone put googley eyes on them.”

Most of the words are muffled into his shoulder, half in relief and half because he can’t stop himself from talking before they’re untangled. It feels like a bubble of manic energy has exploded in his chest and - and -

Doug is apologizing and it suddenly feels too real again and James finds himself reaching out without thinking before he can answer. Just to hold his hand only a moment just like back when they were kids and he’d get too nervous, too wound up with words. Just to find some reason to keep from choking up crying in the most disgusting way ever in his opinion (all snot and hiccuping breath really James knew for a fact he was an ugly crier as a kid). The words catch in his throat and his lower lip shakes before he sucks it in with a half hearted shrug. 

“Mharaigh siad cheana féin é. Tá wolves ar ais sa bhaile sách dian faoi na dlíthe. Ach ní athraíonn sé cad a tharla. Tá mo…mo thuismitheoirí fós marbh agus is ormsa atá an locht.” They already killed him. Wolves back home are pretty strict about the laws. But it doesn’t change what happened. My…my parents are still dead and it’s my fault. James feels the first few hot stinging tears rolling down in fat drops and he’s laughing, quick to rub his face and shake his head. “Ah shit, look at me I’m some badass creature of the night and I’m still such a crybaby.”

Wet fingers cover his face a moment and he takes a shaking breath. It was hard some days but even still he could find a reason to smile. wiping the last few tears away he’s sniffling through a few more chuckles and shakes his head, “I…uh I’m not okay. But I’m still learning how to be and how to find a new normal even if everything is different.” There’s a small wavering smile given. “But same yknow? You’ve got no idea what a relief it is knowing you’re here and okay. I was worried about you for like, forever when your letters stopped coming. I…I was pretty sure I was just gonna be alone here pretending like I’m still yknow, human.”

-

“I survived,” Douglas said in return, a defensive snap in his tone. With all of the pressure that was on him to fit in, behave and perform, he dropped anything that didn’t serve him physically, mentally, or emotionally. He settled down, chewing on his lip as James’ excitement over the plans to build an observatory disarmed him. “I can tell you’re excited. They’re going to have a hard time getting you to ever leave. I still don’t think it compares to the stars we’ve seen in the forests and mountains but... I guess that’s better than nothing in this dull skied city. At least it’s above the smog,” he commented, a tilt of his head to the side as he restrained himself from sighing too loud over it. 

The flurry of information that was thrown his way made his head reel, and Douglas blinked a few times as he processed the novel wrapped up in 110 words and spoken in less than 20 seconds. His jaw was slack, puzzled as he thought about how long James’ letters were. He thought it was because it would sometimes take awhile to send letters back and fourth so he made the most of it - but now Douglas was remembering that this just was how he was. “That sounds like a lot. On second thought, I don’t think I’d enjoy that very much,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I think I’ll take home schooling over that.”

The shift in mood, from manic to emotional was enough to set Douglas on edge, internally navigating his bewilderment in being touched unexpectedly. He had to remind himself this was his friend, but he still seemed tense, not used to the interaction anymore that seemed to still come easily to James. He didn’t know what to say when he gave more details, trying to listen closely to his words to hear him correctly. He pressed his lips together, understanding at least what it meant to lose someone. He held his tongue, not sure how to comfort him more. If he was a vampire, then it probably was his fault they were dead. Douglas couldn’t argue with that or sugar coat it his feelings about it.

All he could do was squeeze his hand when he cried. “You are a crybaby. I think I cried less when I was a kid,” he teased, a smile trying on his lips, fading quickly into the mention of his letters stopping and he dropped it. “Sorry about that. Training got really serous for awhile. We were going after a lot of hard targets. And then...” a pause and a breath, “Fuair ​​Charles bás.” Charles died. Douglas looked uncomfortable, his bias making him struggle in this moment. “Do you have it under control? The part of you that’s not human.”

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@agxsos​​

It took him a few days to recover, most of it spent curled up as a bundle of fur in the pile of blankets and pillows in the living room, at one point fully buried in them. The hurt came and went like ocean waves crashing against the shore on a stormy day. Retreating to his wolf form helped for a temporary reprieve until he had to shift back for one reason or another - usually to follow Arthur wherever he went. 

He was anxious about going back to the library, but something didn’t sit right with him. The longer he thought about what he’d learned, piecing together the clues and information he’d uncovered, the more he’d wondered if they’d been played. The patterns pointed to a ritual once he’d stepped back and looked at the bigger picture, disturbed when he’d realized that he’d played a contributing hand in it.

He tried not to think about the Archives when they’d come back to the library, starting with books he needed to help sort as an easy default for keeping busy. But his brain was on fire thinking about the events that had happened, and he found himself anxiously looking in the direction of it multiple times before finally when Arthur had fallen out of sight, he abandoned his pike of books.

Floors below, Douglas stepped off the last step of the long staircase downwards, and starred at the door in front of him.  He reached out, but hesitated, remembering how it had disappeared and locked them in - at the same moment that Arthur had been taken. He grimaced, and took in a deep breath before he forced himself to override that hesitation and swallow his fear to press his hand into the door to open it. He walked into the entryway, moving forward slowly, his gaze darting around, taking in the expansive system of stairways and bridges, feeling the energy thick in the air. 

“Where are you?” He said out loud, fully expecting crickets and feeling like a fool for talking to nothing. There was a twitch in his lips as he remembered english not getting as strong of a response as gaelic did. “Cá bhfuil tú? Tá ceisteanna agam.” Where are you? I have questions.

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“Oh, what’s this?” The slender woman mused curiously, turning to face the individual sitting on a bench in the conservatory of flowers. Aberash pushed a cup of hot  tea into their hands. A soft aroma of sweet flowers wafted int the steam welcomingly. “You’ve got a cloud over her head. Drink that. You’re making my flowers sad and I can’t have that.”

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lovesucked​:

Well to be fair being called a leech wasn’t the worst thing he’d gotten. Granted he didn’t have a high opinion of himself on a good day before everything went to hell in a hand basket. James half-stumbles over his scarf and he’s quick to finish hanging it up alongside his jacket and other belongings on one of the free hooks. “Ah, shit, hang on-” Untangling himself a bit he’s eager to rush up to the other boy. It was strange how well he could tell now that Doug was like the wolves he’d known back home. It was all the smell honestly and he didn’t mind the air of wet dog. In fact it was almost comforting as his smile grew brighter.

There was so much he’d wanted to tell him before he’d moved away from the North. His parent’s death, being changed, learning how to get by, and best of all learning that the baristas here in Los Santos had caffeinated blood so he didn’t have to give up his lattes. “Tá an oiread sin a tharla, fabht éadrom. Bhuail mé le buachaill agus ní raibh sé go hiontach. Bhog mé anseo áfach! Agus téim ar scoil! Ó agus déanaim staidéar ar na réaltaí mar a dúirt mé i gcónaí.” There is so much that happened, a light bug. I met a boy and he wasn’t great. I moved here though! And I go to school! Oh and I study the stars like I always said. James’ face hurts from how wide he smiles and it’s been years and yet he still feels that same child-like glee seeing the other. The words are spilling out fast with his excitement and he feels like he might shake apart with it.

Sweeping him into a tight hug, there’s a relieved sigh. “It really sucked living here alone you have no idea.” Mindful of how tightly he grabs, he’s quick to pull back just a fraction and look over the other’s face, “I probably smell really awful too don’t I? Gosh I’m sorry, I tried to wear cologne and stuff but I think it makes it worse.” His expression falters and he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “I uh…that boy I met? It was the week before I was supposed to go to London on scholarship and well one thing lead to another well, I didn’t know he was a vampire.” James feels that familiar twist of self loathing threatening to surface as a nauseated churn in his stomach. Swallowing hard his gaze falls away and he’s prepared for Doug to ridicule him or freak out. His parents had right before instinct took over.

“I trusted him and well, here we are,” he adds quieter, rubbing his arm a bit. “But uh hey, at least the city here isn’t half bad, it’s like the LA of the supernatural community. Everyone and everything is here yknow?”

-

Douglas half smiled when James predictably stumbled over himself; he might have wondered how he’d survived this long, except, he really hadn’t. The distinct smell of dead flesh and the silence of his heart proved that. He blinked a few times while he listened to him talk a mile a minute in Gaelic. “Woah, slow down a little. My spoken Gaelic is isn’t as fast as my writing,” he admitted, although he’d started to pick back up where he left off, spending a few minutes every day relearning words he’d forgotten, and reading a book in gaelic before bed at night. “You’re studying the stars... in the middle of the city? You know you can barely see them here, right?” Douglas gave him an incredulous look, half smiling through the corner of his lips.

 “What is college like?” he asked, genuinely curious since he’d only experienced home schooling his whole life. The hug took him off guard, a slight flinch in him as he inhaled sharply with a slight scrunch of his nose, surprised by everything that was happening right now. He had been in the headspace to be alone, and just do one task after another to stay busy and simply have a feeling of completing something. He returned the hug, wrapping his arms around him. “No, I know how much that sucks,” he said in reply, swallowing hard, his heart rate spiking for a split second, “I get it.”

Doug’s arms dropped to his sides when James puled away, listening to him apologize for the smell and explain what happened. The younger boy frowned, not sure how to respond. “I’m sorry -- sorry that happened,” he finally said, struggling a little internally at the question marks in his head that stifled his words. "An bhfuil tú ceart go leor? ...Leis? D’fhéadfainn an vaimpír sin a lorg agus é a mharú ar do shon.” Are you okay? ...With it? I could track down that vampire and kill him for you. He sighed, disagreeing with his stance on the city. “I would rather be anywhere but here, personally. But we can’t leave yet. So I guess I’m just glad to see you - my experience here so far... Well.” He was breathless, not in the mood to give more details. “I’m happy you’re okay.” Even if it was just mostly okay. He was still a vampire.

[mirrormirrorhq]

ofkalea​:

-

She felt as if it’d be a truly losing argument to bring up the whole ‘letting a vamp feed off of her from time to time’ thing, so she bit her tongue. But let it be known she was tempted, just to annoy Douglas. “I’m aware, thank you.” Kalea returned, with a near huff before a smirk ghosted over her lips, the young woman answering his inquiries on attacks. “Silver dagger to the throat? Lighter plus aerosol can for a makeshift flamethrower? Poof, nothing more than a pile of ash.” She also recently acquired a nifty runes tattoo that apparently worked as something of a protective shield, so there was that. But she felt that wouldn’t help her case. 

At his insistence to know how she’d acquired Excalibur, she rubbed her temple a little before scrunching her nose, setting the books she’d gathered onto a bare space of the nearest shelf.

“I took a path that turned into this…forest, I don’t know if the forest was even still in the Archives but I digress. I could either take a path that led further into the forest, all mist and ominous, or I could take a path that led to a small house by this lake where some cloaked figure was sitting by a fire outside.” She watched to see if Douglas was with her so far. “Remember the Knight from the fight? That was him, and I just started asking him questions, he responded with rhyming riddles. Apparently that was the Lake Excalibur had been thrown into. So I just…I asked how I could get the sword, if I even could…” Kalea cleared her throat. “Because I needed to help, no matter what I had to do. Then he said something about ‘Courage of Heart’ and gave me the sword and everything disappeared, until there was just a path again.” 

-

“Alright, okay. So-” Doug started, a thin smile on his lips, clearly not impressed by her answer, though it did not seem like any answer would have satisfied him, “how many times have you had to do those things? Do you just carry hair spray and a lighter on you? I assume you have that silver dagger tucked away somewhere, then. Knowing and doing are very different things.”

 He quieted down when she began to tell him more about what she’d gone through in the Archives, still wondering how she’d gotten down there in the first place when he’d remembered coming down alone. Unless she’d gotten there before he had? He was still confused about that. Douglas listened, still not giving her a lot of expression to read him. The story seemed bizarre, but with his own experiences in the Archives, he could not really judge what it was capable of being. The fact that she just...asked for it and was given it mildly infuriated him, but there was nothing he could do about that. Wishing he’d taken a different path didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t. While she got a cool sword, he had his heart ripped out of his chest. “And then I assume you ran into me,” he finished, remembering how jarred he had felt the moment he’d laid eyes on her. “We were bound to work together, I guess. All things considering, at least we got out alive.” Even if he was quietly convinced that they’d just been pawns in a bigger game. “Thanks for helping me make sure we didn’t all die, I suppose.”

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lovesucked​:

-for @leavetheminshreds​ (doug)

Going to the college library is easy as breathing. It’s a comfort being able to walk inside and find a quiet corner to pull up his legs and bury himself in a book. No one really talks to him or bothers him and for the longest time he tells himself that he ought to check out the newly reopened public library. Moving from The North had been extremely isolating in regards to feeling brave enough to leave his apartment beyond going to classes. Learning how to move around Los Santos during the day was not the greatest affairs but hell - he’d brought his UV umbrella for a reason.

It just sucked bundling up like he was going out into a blizzard but it beat struggling through the sewers. James always waited until dawn or dusk to go anyways to limit the risk but he told himself that today was going to be the day he got a card from the public library. It’s a struggle to untangle himself and stash his umbrella at the front doors but by the time he manages he lets out a sigh of relief at the sight of rows and rows and rows of books just waiting - 

And a head of messy brown hair.

Well if that wasn’t a blast to the past. Maybe he should’ve come sooner if he’d known that he would see such a familiar face. James’ face splits into a smile that comes easier than he expected. Especially after everything the past few years.

“Hey fabht éadrom beag!“

-

Conflict he could deal with. Fights he thrived in. Hunts he excelled. But when he wasn’t doing those things? Well, Douglas struggled. Reading only got him so far. Studying felt pointless without Charles’ vision. Day to day life felt mundane, and it left his analytical side to do nothing but wonder. The longer he was left alone with his thoughts, the more he felt that their victory had not been a victory at all, that his sacrifice had been a ploy disguised to push someone else’s agenda. It made him growl to think about, bristled and bothered, sometimes audible about it under his breath without meaning to be in the living room, or daydreaming in the library. He didn’t care to be around others, nestling in close to Arthur, staying nearby out of fear, paranoia - and most importantly, comfort. Everyone else just seemed to prick his nerves, and he was in no mood to humor new conversations or make friends. He just wanted to leave Los Santos, so what was the point? All Douglas wanted was to get out of there with Arthur and never look back.

It was another mundane day, and Douglas was busy doing mundane tasks at the library, going down a list of things Arthur had asked him to do. That was fine. It at least kept him busy, and if it made Arthur’s life easier, good. It was boring, but it was better than nothing. 

A smell caught his attention though, during the day, no less. His nose scrunched up, flinching at the smell of death that had entered his territory. His muscles tensed, and he immediately stopped what he was doing to investigate, giving the culprit a death stare as he quickly found the living corpse. But the moment he laid eyes on his features, he paused, the territorial nature on his face melting into confusion, then recognition.

“James?” He muttered, his eyebrows stitching together. A little, childish part of him got excited, and he half smiled, but the odor stunted his excitement, and he seemed hesitant. “Cén fáth a bhfuil boladh ort mar a rolladh tú thart i gcarn de chorpáin?” Why do you smell like you rolled around in a pile of corpses? Maybe it was a trick. Maybe something else had happened. There could be another explanation or... “Cén fáth a bhfuil boladh cosúil le Leech ort?” Why do you smell like a leech? He didn’t want to outright say vampire - in case someone pieced together his words and caused an alarm.

[mirrormirrorhq]

SPIDER-MAN: NO WAY HOME – MORE FUN STUFF VERSION dir. Jon Watts | 2021

[mirrormirrorhq]

ofkalea​:

-

“So…” She shook her head, laughing breathlessly at his logic. “If I don’t know any, I’m some inexperienced human. But if I can list off some supernaturals that I do know, I lack self-preservation? Can you give me a happy medium?” Kalea returned, genuinely curious what this side of Douglas figured was a middle ground where knowledge of the supernatural was concerned. She figured mentioning Excalibur would either grab his attention, or would make him mad at her again like in the Archives. “Yea.” She shrugged. “More advice than anything, usually pretty snarky if you can believe it.” You two would get along, she wanted to say. “It’s helping me learn how to be a better swordsman. I mean, who better than a mythical sword right?” 

-

“Knowing a few supernatural doesn’t mean you’re experienced with them. It means you’re naive enough to trust them. You happen to be a food source for one of those, by the way, so yes, you lack self preservation,” he said flatly, pulling back his shoulders into a tall stance as he continued. “Let’s say you don’t have a magic sword doing the work for you. What do you do when a vampire attacks you? A witch hexes you? A werewolf tries to bite you?” He quieted down when she spoke about excalibur, the corner of his lips twitching once as he pressed them together. He was tempted to ask her if she had asked it why it’d chosen her, an inexperienced human girl, of all people, looking to make another jab, but held his tongue. “How did you find it again? What did you do? Walk me through it.”

[mirrormirrorhq]

ofkalea​:

-

“Lucky,” She repeated, half exasperated yet not all that surprised. This version of Douglas would ignore the way they naturally worked together. “Yea sure.” Kalea scrunched her nose when he made it sound like being a human was bad thing…before she let out a chuckle. “Actually not quite. My roommate turns into a tiger, and I’ve been friends with plenty of vampires. Even a witch.” She felt like telling him that one vampire she’d let drink from her wouldn’t help the situation. “So I’d say I’ve dabbled where supernaturals are concerned. But where swords are concerned, the closest I’ve gotten is fencing. Thank goodness Excalibur can talk to me in my head, eh?” 

-

“If you have a list you can name off, then you’ve already made my point. Your sense of self preservation is terrible. We got so lucky,” Douglas closed his eyes, shaking his head at her amateurish endeavor to earn some kind of credibility. What she said next made him pause and pay attention, however. “...It talks to you?” He asked, not shocked living in a world where Merlin really did exist, and the stories Arthur told him as a kid were true. “What does it say?”