#✰ || do you see clearer or are you deceived ( musings )
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SHARE AT LEAST FIVE SONGS THAT REMIND YOU OF YOUR MUSE, OR THAT YOU ASSOCIATE WITH YOUR MUSE'S CHARACTER ARC. Including lyrics is optional.
Tagged by : @ssolessurvivor ♥
Tagging : @theprice-cffreedcm @suffcring @storyuntrue @sioraiocht @ravarui @forevermuses @kissedbymischief @bloodstainedstar and if you didn't do this yet and read this: You as well! ♥
Rag'N'Bone Man - Human | Take a look in the mirror and what do you see? / Do you see it clearer or are you deceived / In what you believe? / 'Cause I'm only human after all / You're only human after all / Don't put the blame on me / Don't put your blame on me / (Oh-oh) some people got the real problems / (Oh-oh) some people out of luck / (Oh-oh) some people think I can solve them / (Oh-oh) Lord heavens above / I'm only human after all / I'm only human after all / Don't put the blame on me / Don't put the blame on me
Panic! At The Disco - House Of Memories | If you're a lover, you should know / The lonely moments just get lonelier / The longer you're in love than if you were alone / Memories turn into daydreams, become a taboo / I don't want to be afraid / The deeper that I go / It takes my breath away / Soft hearts, electric souls / Heart to heart and eyes to eyes / Is this taboo? / Baby, we built this house on memories / Take my picture now, shake it 'til you see it / And when your fantasies become your legacy / Promise me a place in your house of memories
Imagine Dragons - Bones | I-I-I got this feeling, yeah, you know / Where I'm losing all control / 'Cause there's magic in my bones / I-I-I got this feeling in my soul / Go ahead and throw your stones / 'Cause there's magic in my bones / Playing with a stick of dynamite / There was never gray in black and white / There was never wrong 'til there was right (ooh, oh) / Feeling like a boulder hurtling / Seeing all the vultures circling / Burning in the flames I'm working in / Turning in a bed that's darkening / My patience is waning / Is this entertaining / Our patience is waning / Is this entertaining?
Imagine Dragons - Enemy (Arcane) | I wake up to the sounds of the silence that allows for my mind to run around with my ear up to the ground / I′m searching to behold the stories that are told / When my back is to the world that was smiling when I turned / Tell you you're the greatest / But once you turn, they hate us / Your words up on the wall as you're praying for my fall / And the laughter in the halls, and the names that I've been called / I stack it in my mind, and I′m waiting for the time / When I show you what it′s like to be words spit in a mic / Oh, the misery / Everybody wants to be my enemy / Spare the sympathy / Everybody wants to be my enemy / Look out for yourself! / My enemy / Look out for yourself!
#bookshelf; personal studies (musings)#personal file; headcanons#(I only had 4 songs so i did the crossed out thing at the top lol)#(but yes i think I did this some times before but i wanted to do again thanks to the tag ♥)#(hnG love him and the songs)
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TAG DROP 2
ic | visage ; ( take a look in the mirror and what do you see ; do you see it clearer or are you deceived ? )
ic | isms ; ( i lost it all to find myself but go ahead and call me a liar ; i went to hell and came back on fucking fire. )
ic | aesthetic ; ( bulletproof in black like a funeral ; ill stop wearing black when they make a darker color. )
ic | musings ; ( i was gonna say something that would solve all my problems ; but then i got drunk and forgot what i was talking about. )
ic | identity ; ( i was a good guy but i was the worst type ; give me an inch and ill take a mile. )
ic | info ; ( im only human i make mistakes ; that's all it takes to put the blame on me. )
ic | meta discussion ; ( when i die let the wolves enjoy my bones. )
ic | interaction ; ( every little touch will darken your soul. )
ic | ship things ; ( you are what you love not who loves you. )
ic | desires ; ( they say to love in moderation ; do i look moderate to you ? )
#ic | visage ; ( take a look in the mirror and what do you see ; do you see it clearer or are you deceived ? )#ic | isms ; ( i lost it all to find myself but go ahead and call me a liar ; i went to hell and came back on fucking fire. )#ic | aesthetic ; ( bulletproof in black like a funeral ; ill stop wearing black when they make a darker color. )#ic | musings ; ( i was gonna say something that would solve all my problems ; but then i got drunk and forgot what i was talking about. )#ic | identity ; ( i was a good guy but i was the worst type ; give me an inch and ill take a mile. )#ic | info ; ( im only human i make mistakes ; that's all it takes to put the blame on me. )#ic | meta discussion ; ( when i die let the wolves enjoy my bones. )#ic | interaction ; ( every little touch will darken your soul. )#ic | ship things ; ( you are what you love not who loves you. )#ic | desires ; ( they say to love in moderation ; do i look moderate to you ? )
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Lost and Found: Chapter 4
Pairing: The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader
Warning(s): use of blasters/shooting? but nothing big
Word count: 4.1k
Summary: Mando gives the Client what he wants, but afterwards it doesn't sit right with either of you
Chapters: Chapter 3, Chapter 5 (Not up yet!)
Note(s): Up on my Ao3!
The sound of stern modulated voices makes you open your eyes. Blinking away the blurriness, you look around to unfamiliar surroundings. You’d expect to feel panicked as if you’ve been deceived by the Mandalorian and were sold off to some slave traders.
But you didn’t. In fact, you weren’t able to move at all. You weren’t restrained or had any weapon held to your head. You were just standing in the middle of a poorly lit room, the only source of light seeping through thin windows all around. It was enough light to notice the movement of walking...blobs? You could tell the moving shapes were humanoid, pacing around the room as if slowly stalking you like prey. Everything you were trying to process was still blurry, you blinked more to get a clearer image, but an elder man's voice turned your head forward.
“Extreme...importance...I had...to ensure it’s delivery,” perhaps because he was closer, his face was clearer than the other forms around you, whose eyes you can feel burning into your skull. However, the man's sentences were jumbled and unclear. The few words you can make out only made this entire scene more confusing. What was happening?
You look down to see a spherical blob floating in front of you vertically split open, that’s when you recognize the child’s pram. You can see his wide, thin ears poking out from each side, while his round head sits on the bundle of beige clothing he wears.
“What are you doing here…?” That’s what you wanted to say, but your lips didn’t move. Despite trying to make some noise, nothing was coming out. So, you resigned to quietly listening, getting as much information as you could out of this strange fever dream. Was this even a dream? It couldn’t be, it felt too real. Shortly after, the experience seems to break up into fragments. Every time you blink, time jumps forward a little bit, the man standing in different spots every time you open your eyes. Once he’s standing in front of you, then, another man with round glasses is at his side, holding a thermometer up to the child's head. You had no clue what was going on, or why everything was going so fast. Perhaps this experience wasn’t going too fast, and you just couldn’t keep up. While musing over why you were having a weird dream like this, you see the man with glasses start to walk away with the pram trailing after him. You want to call out, to tell him to stop and stomp up to him. Demanding an answer to why he’s suddenly taking off with the child. But all you do is stand there, following the floating pram with your head until he passes the threshold to another room, and the elevator doors shut.
You don't realize you’ve fallen into a deep sleep until you feel the gentle nudging on your shoulder, luring you from your dream. You look around blearily, fortunately, your surroundings come into focus pretty soon. You look up to your right at the Mandalorian standing over you. His armor seemed to have (finally) been cleaned of the dry mud from the mudhorn a few days prior, and his helmet was shiny again, given the near mirror level quality when you looked at it. That reminded you, you should probably shower too.
“We’re on Nevarro. I’ll be back in a little bit, so please watch the ship while I’m gone,” you nodded as an answer, rubbing your eyes. Satisfied with your response, the Mandalorian turns and leaves the cockpit, sliding down the ladder. Since you worked on basically putting the entire Razor Crest back together, he had a feeling you didn’t need to be told where the facilities were. Fortunately, he was right. You sit in your seat for a moment, pulling yourself together, before hauling yourself up and following suit down the ladder. Instead of sliding down the ladder as Mando does, you opt to climb down like normal. You didn’t need to find out if you were going to smack your chin on the rungs today.
You glance around, making sure he’s completely gone before picking up your bag and heading into the refresher. Not that you were worried he would invade your privacy, you just didn’t want a funny situation to make things awkward right off the bat. Slipping into the refresher, you lock the door as the sensor lights come on. Just the thought of taking a shower was enticing. You turn on the water, quickly peel your clothes off, and step in.
The warm water is nearly orgastic on your skin, after cleaning the hours of sweat off you rest your hands on the wall, letting the sensation run over you. You swear you could probably fall asleep again in this shower. That is until the water starts running cold. The cold water on your back is like raining thumbtacks, and you arch to get away from it, nearly yowling from the freezing terror.
You quickly switch off the water, looking at the handle in horror. Okay, maybe you were being a bit over dramatic. But you silently pray you didn’t end up using all the hot water for the day, or else you might be the next bounty the Mandalorian hunts down.
Patting yourself off with the towel, the shower has definitely woken you up now. You chuckle, shaking your head at your reaction. Then it slowly mounts into full laughter, all at how you screamed like a cat from some cold water. You throw on another clean set of clothes, one that Kuiil neatly packed for you. You shifted around in the back to find he also included everything else you might need.
“Boy, guess he really had a good feeling about this…” still smiling, you close up the bag, stepping out of the refresher. Despite the abrupt wash of cold water. You look around the ship and realize, you don’t really have a place to sleep.
You press a finger to your lips, looking around the interior in thought. You had a few ideas of what would make a decent spot, but you weren’t sure if they would be practical. In the cockpit? No, that would be uncomfortable. Near the back? No, you’d probably wake up rolling out of the ship. You spend a few more minutes pondering on a good spot when you finally see one.
While you’re working on a decent cot, you can’t help but wonder what became of the child. You wanted to believe the child was being taken back to his family, and they would be relieved to finally pay off the bounty and be reunited with their wrinkly baby. But after that dream… all it gave you was a sinking sensation in your gut. You had a strong feeling there wasn’t anything good in store for him, especially because he was a force user. That was why so many bounty hunters were sent after him. But you didn’t want to question Mando, he had a job to do, he got it done, and that was the end of it. You didn’t want to rock the boat as soon as you got on board.
You finish putting together the cot and stand up, admiring your work with your hands on your hips. Before you can think any further on the issue concerning the child, the hangar of the Razor Crest opens up. You turn at the waist to look over, and you whistle when the Mandalorian walks up. He comes into the ship in a shiny new cuirass that matches his helmet, so that was the payment for the bounty.
“Look at youuu, fancy man,” you looked him up and down, walking around him in a circle to get a good look while his helmet nodded.
“Thought it was time for a new look,” he glances down at himself, before heading off into the cockpit. However, his tone didn’t match what he said. He sounded...guilty. After he left, you glance at the closing hangar, the same feeling in your gut hitting you again. You walk closer to the ladder of the cockpit and lookup.
“Hey, Mando?” You called, climbing up to join him. He hums in acknowledgment, slowly flipping switches that make the ship start to life. You pause, standing between the two passenger seats. You set your hand on the headrest of the right seat, looking down at it. Where the child used to be. “...What did you do with the child?” A moment of silence passes and feeling some regret for bringing it up, you sit down in the other seat, prepared to never get an answer.
The Mandalorian seems to also be prepared to never give one, despite his reluctant movement, he holds onto the lever, pushing forward on it. You watch him as he just… looks at it. He doesn’t move, neither do you. Just looking at him while you stiffly waited, you wanted to go up next to him, turn off the ship and tell him to hear you out. Tell him how hesitant you felt about leaving the child behind, but you weren’t even sure if your dream was accurate. Or just a summary of intrusive fears you had for the child. But it seems like he shares the same feelings because he pulls the lever back. Reversing all his actions to the ship, he shuts it down and quickly rises from his seat.
"Something I shouldn't have done."
The Mandalorian quickly leaves the ship and you hightail it after him.
“Mando?” You pick up the pace to keep in stride with him as he walks back into the town. The main city on Nevarro was similar to the town on your little desert planet, clamoring and full of different aliens and people. However, it felt...colder. More serious, like people didn’t come there for fun.
He leads you down alleyways and paths that descend until you’re sure you’d be lost without him. But it was worth it, you knew whoever had placed the bounty on the child's head was surely someone ill-intentioned. Knowing that you were going to get the child back, you couldn’t help but think of that sweet child's eyes, with big pointy ears that contrasted his spherical features. It motivated you to push through the strange atmosphere this hidden area gave you, as creepy as it was. Mando instructs you to follow close behind him, and he checks around every corner as he starts walking around a certain structure. You don’t question it, not until you see him pass a dumpster and pause, then you both look inside.
The chilling sight of a discarded pram sits before your eyes, everything was tossed out, even the child's small brown blanket. Your brows furrow in guilt, how could you have done this? What was even happening to him now? Was the child still even alive?
Your racing thoughts are stopped when Mando’s modulated voice cuts in, “Come on,” he tilts his head to follow him, and you go.
You trail after him behind a building adjacent to the one with the child, following Mando up to the rooftop. He lies down closer to the edge, gesturing at you to sit further behind him. He takes out his rifle, pointing it towards the building, and fidgets with the side of his helmet. You lay down on your stomach next to him, patiently waiting to see what he's going to do next. You stay like that for a minute or two, until he lowers the rifle.
"Alright, here's what we're gonna do," the Mandalorian fills you in on the conversation he overheard between the Client and a presumably scientist. It sounded like the child was still alive, so there's hope. Although he doesn't want to put anyone else in harms way, Mando knows you'll refuse just sitting on the ship for this. So what he does is points you towards a staircase jutting out on the side of the ex-imperial headquarters and orders for you to hide above the entrance. When you’re ready, you watch Mando walk over to the door, which activates the sensors for the security eye to pop out. He grabs the base of the eye and rips the end off while the droid shrieks, stalking off into the shadows.
You watched him leave, Wow, you thought, I wish I could be as calm as that. Your silent awe at the Mandalorian’s steel composure is interrupted by the blue door sliding open two stormtroopers stepping out. You wait until they are far enough that the door closes, and then you shoot at them twice, taking them out. A small explosion promptly follows, which you knew was Mando’s doing. As much as you wanted to contribute more to the retrieval, you listened to Mando and chose to stay put, figuring that getting yourself involved would cause more harm than hurt. While you wait for him, you take out any more stormtroopers that exit out the front. Fortunately, only two or three came out while you waited.
Just as you begin to start worrying if the plan went wrong, you see the Mandalorian leave the headquarters, a bundle of fabric tucked in his left elbow. He nods for you to come down, the coast was clear, and it was time for you three to get the hell out of there. Together, you walk back to the Nevarran town, not exchanging a single word as the tension rises. Paranoia continues to seep into the back of your mind as you walk on the cobblestone path, unaware of the men casually following behind you. Just as the Razor Crest is finally in sight, your worst fears come true once you see other people moving out from the shadows, raising their blasters at you two.
While the Mandalorian seemed calm as ever, only glancing around to read the situation, you were beginning to internally freak out. So this is how I die, you thought. You’ve never been in a situation like this, not ever on your cozy little desert planet, where trouble used to be miles away. But it seems like you finally made the trek to the dangerous part of the universe. Oh, the irony. You wanted to leave so bad, but now you wanted to kick your younger self in the ass. Although you were certain imminent death was near, this seemed to be another evening for Mando. You hadn’t even processed another man speaking until you saw him come into view.
“Step aside, I’m going to my ship,” Mando says
You put the bounty down, and perhaps I’ll let you pass,” Karga says, looking between you two. It was easy for him to see your inexperience, the insecurity of your ability to make it out of this situation alive. Despite your attempts to steel yourself like your Mandalorian boss, it was an attempt easier said than done.
“The kid’s coming with us,” you glance up at Mando, for some reason, you’re surprised at his wording. You look back at the Razor Crest, the relieving sight now becoming a mockery of your attempt to do the right thing. The metal was lit up underneath by landing lights to guide other crafts, but at the moment you wanted to perceive it as a beacon of hope.
“If you truly care about the kid, then you’ll put it on the speeder,” Greef nods his head to the speeder piloted by the R-Unit, who looks back, definitely the most confused one out of this whole situation, “then we’ll discuss terms.”
The Mandalorian is silent, gauging the situation, “How do I know I can trust you?”
“Because I’m your only hope.”
A moment of silence passes before Mando tentatively walks over to the speeder. You slowly walk beside the Mandalorian, feeling your hands begin to tremble. Is he really going to do this? You look down at the child in his arms, the child's eyes can be seen between the folds in the fabric. He looked so small, so helpless. At that moment you knew, you would go to the ends of the universe for this small child.
“Go under!” is all the Mandalorian says, before he snatches out his blaster from his side and shoots at one of the bounty hunters. You don’t waste any time clamoring underneath the speeder while Mando jumps into the top. Using the speeder as cover, you crawl through to get into the alleyway, stumbling off into the city maze. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, not fully confident that you could make it back to the ship like this either, all you can hear is the firefight going on behind you, and praying that those two make it out alright. Although your mind is running miles a minute, you notice someone who looks...familiar.
“Hey!” The person doesn’t hear you, moving aside some curtains before descending into the shadows. You hesitate at the curtain, fear gripping your heart. But you shake the nerves away, you have to try. So you swing the curtain aside and follow them down. But you’re a little lost once the curtain blocks out the moonlight, carefully trying to maneuver your way down a flight of curving stairs. Once you reach the bottom, you’re met with lit torches lining a long...hallway? From the looks of it, it appeared to be the city sewers. But that was not the only thing you were greeted with, along the hallway, there were many people dressed in armor. Mandalorian armor. They all look back at you, the black T-shaped visors burning holes right in your skull. It makes your hair stand up.
“An intruder!” One of them in blue, tattered armor says, standing up quickly. The panic surging in your chest forces you to find your voice again.
You raise your hands quickly in defense once they start drawing their weapons on you, “No, wait! I need your help-” you’re cut off by a tall Mandalorian, one whose large stature matched his voice. He strides over to you, making you look puny in front of him.
“How did you find this place?” You’re not sure where to look on the helmet, you’re panicking because you might already be too late and you’re about to get your ass handed to you by Mandalorians. Speak. Speak!!
“Please, my-my friend is a Mandalorian--like you! He has shiny armor, he’s really good at shooting, and he looks just like you! Except, smaller,” you shake your head, getting back to the point. “He needs your help, he’s about to get killed!” You see another Mandalorian approach you, this one wore a golden helmet and a furry coat. When she spoke, her voice was calming, yet firm.
“He needs help, you say?” You nod hard at her question, noticing the visor on hers is shaped differently compared to the others.
“Yes, please. I-all I saw was someone that looked like him walk down here and I thought maybe--maybe you could help,” you stressed to get your intentions out to her. Her golden helmet shares a look with the large man in front of you, they give a firm nod to each other before the woman turns back to you.
“You are brave for coming in here, alone at that,” she says looking at you, “not many can do that and come out alive.” You see the big Mandalorian turn to the others who have since stood, watching the ordeal go down, and wave at them to follow him.
“Does that… mean yes?” The female Mandalorian nods at your question.
“This is the Way.”
Mando was starting to run out of options. He didn’t know where you went, for all he knew, you could have gotten taken out by another bounty hunter lurking around in the city. He tried using his blaster, his rifle, and his flamethrower in his arm brace. But none of them were enough to stop the hunters from closing in on him. He moved over the child, who was beginning to stir from the commotion. The child looked up at Mando with those bulbous brown eyes, and the wholesome sight made the sound drown out around him. As Mando was sure this would be the farthest he’d get, he’s brought back by the sound of a missile careening overhead. The missile hits dead on, taking out a bounty hunter on the rooftop. Mando can’t help but look on incredulously, the only people who could aim that good with a missile were…
Figures rose into the sky, fire-spewing from the bottom of their jetpacks lit up their silhouette as some descended to the ground. Mando briefly looked up in awe, it was nearly a perfect parallel to the biblical image of the first time the Mandalorians came to save him. He’s brought back to reality when he feels an arm clamp down on his arm, which he quickly raises a blaster in the direction of.
“Whoa whoa whoa, don’t shoot!” You pull back, then Mando drops the weapon, “Shoot them, not me!” You shoot at some of the hunters before Mando hops off the now broken speeder.
“Come on!” He shoots behind you a few times as you sprint off together into the Razor Crest.
“One day, one day I’m off the planet and this happens!” Before Mando can ask what you did to make that miracle happen, you hear the same voice.
“Hold it, Mando,” you both stop and turn. Just when you thought the worst was over, it seems you needed to get ready for a lot of curveballs to be thrown at you. Greef Karga is standing in the middle of the ship, holding a blaster at Mando. “I didn’t want it to come to this, but then you broke the code.”
“Look, I don’t know who you are, but it would be really nice if you’d just-” you yelp as Mando shoots his grapple at the carbonite freezer, making the spray cloud everyone’s view. He grabs your tunic to pull you behind him as Karga lets loose some blaster shots, before returning one of his own. The shot knocks Karga off of the ship, you see him lie still in the dirt when Mando hands the child to you, quickly climbing up to the cockpit before anyone else climbs aboard. You slowly followed up after him, sitting in the left passenger seat as the ship took off.
You look out of the window towards the ongoing fight, the scene becoming smaller until it's enshrouded by the clouds. The ship is silent as cool sunlight trickles in the large windows, the light reflecting off of the Mandalorians’ armor. Worn out from the fight, you feel your eyelids begin to drift close. But you’re awoken by a whoosh that comes up from the side of the ship, putting you on edge again, until you see who it is.
It was the same Mandalorian that intimidated you when you asked for help, but this time he came in peace, simply giving a salute. You waved with a small smile on your face, to your surprise, the man gave a small wave back to you. The gesture made you grin widely, watching him turn away back to Nevarro.
“I gotta get one of those,” Mando says to himself, glancing over at you. The cogs roll around in his mind for a moment, before it clicks. “Did you ask the Mandalorians for help?”
You look at the back of his helmet, “Oh! Yeah, after I escaped, I saw one of them when I was trying to navigate the alleyways. So, I followed them.“ The Mandalorian shook his head, chuckling to himself. He couldn’t believe you unknowingly sauntered into the Mandalorian Covert to ask for help. But it seemed to work out in the end, unfortunately, the Covert will have to be relocated. “Did I… do something wrong?”
Mando shakes his head, “No, you did the best thing possible. Thank you,” it was only one day, but you’ve already managed to save his life. He realized he might have to pay you more than he thought, especially if you kept up with this quick thinking.
Once the ship was flown off the planet and jumped into hyperspace, Mando got up from his seat. “I’m gonna use the refresher. If we run into more trouble… I’m sure you can handle it.” You chuckle, getting up after Mando leaves to take a shower. You place the sleepy child in his seat, carefully strapping him in before slumping back in your own seat. The sliding strips of blue and white around the ship made you feel calm. Your second try at relaxation is interrupted again by the Mandalorian calling your name from the lower level. “Did you use all the hot water?”
Taglist: @startrekkingaroundasgard
#Star Wars#The Mandalorian#Mandalorian#The mandalorian x reader#mandalorian x force sensitive! Reader#din djarin#din djarin x reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#fanfiction#reader insert#slow burn
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Bright and arms faith
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🎧 from the Yelena that I am definitely not in the process of making o.o
meme: Send 🎧 For My Muse To Make a Playlist for Your Muse // PLS GIVE HER TO ME THANK YOU!!! gods their comic relationship kills me.
Back to Black - Amy Winehouse (for the betrayal)
You went back to what you knew So far removed from all that we went through And I tread a troubled track My odds are stacked I'll go back to black We only said goodbye with words I died a hundred times You go back to her And I go back to... I go back to us
Human - Rag’n’Bone Man (for the guilt)
Take a look in the mirror And what do you see? Do you see it clearer Or are you deceived In what you believe? 'Cause I'm only human after all You're only human after all Don't put the blame on me Don't put your blame on me
I Know A Place (Acoustic) - MUNA
When you told me you don't wanna go home tonight And you tried to just shrug it off when I asked you why Somebody hurt you Somebody hurt you But you're here by my side
And I knew 'Cause I can recall when I was the one in your seat I still got the scars and they occasionally bleed Cause somebody hurt me Somebody hurt me But I'm staying alive
Nina Cried Power - Hozier ft. Mavis Staples (for the recovery)
It's not the waking, it's the rising It is the grounding of a foot uncompromising It's not forgoing of the lie It's not the opening of eyes
It's not the waking, it's the rising It's not the shade, we should be past it It's the light, and it's the obstacle that casts it It's the heat that drives the light It's the fire it ignites It's not the waking, it's the rising
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Unseelie Pet: 10. Chapter
Still rattled from the illusion Alex gets a comforting bath. But when he recovers Malachi uses the opportunity to humiliate him further than ever before.
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Content warnings: dehumanisation, humiliation, non-consensual touching (not sexual), drugging (faerie food), mentions of torture
Tagging: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @whumpsideblog @frnkieroismydaddy @slaintetowhump @thewhiteraven73 @galaxywhump
After a while Alex’s crying calmed down to a quiet sniffling, and his panic subsided.
“Look at how dirty you got yourself again, such a careless pet,” Malachi chided gently, picking a few twigs out of Alex’s hair.
“S-sorry,” Alex mumbled, feeling ashamed. Malachi was right, his escape attempt had left him and his clothes soiled with dirt and sweat.
Malachi tutted. “We’ll have to wash you again, won’t we? Would you like me to give you a bath again, just like we did yesterday?”
Alex nodded shyly. It was weird to hear the bath being referred to as having happened yesterday, to him it felt as if weeks had passed since then. He remembered not being happy about it at the time, but right now he craved the feeling being taken care of, an assurance that he wouldn’t be abandoned and left for death, as well as the warmth of the water. Even though the dark cell hadn’t been real, he still felt its cold in his bones.
He followed Malachi to the bathroom, obediently took off his clothes, not even hesitating this time, and slipped into the tub. Malachi was rummaging around in a cabinet somewhere behind him, and he turned to look over his shoulder expectantly. Malachi chuckled when he saw Alex waiting so eagerly for the part he’d hated the most less than a day ago.
“Such a demanding pet already,” he mused and knelt down next to the tub. “How delightfully adorable.”
This time Alex had no troubles relaxing right from the start as Malachi washed him, melting readily under the Fae’s soft touches. He had been so starved for any kind of touch or attention during his isolation and was almost overwhelmed to receive so much of both now. He also loved listening to Malachi talk, the soothing voice and gentle praise reminded him again and again that he wasn’t alone anymore. His calmness increased even further when Malachi began to feed him pieces of freshly baked bread and other delicacies.
Seeing Alex’s much greater enjoyment compared to the day before, Malachi decided to give it more time and washed him very slowly and thoroughly, making sure to praise him for his lovely behaviour ever so often. When he was finally done he almost had to coax the drowsy human out of the warm water. He took his time towelling Alex off until his skin was dry and rosy, then helped him into a fluffy bathrobe to keep him warm.
“Will you comb my hair again?” Alex mumbled, blinking sleepily.
Malachi smiled. “Of course, darling,” he said and gently guided Alex back into the bedroom. “I like taking care of my pet, and I’m very proud of you for asking so sweetly.”
Alex obediently sat on the pillow in front of the bed and immediately sunk back against Malachi’s legs once he felt the familiar sensation of the comb being threaded through his hair. After the horror of his punishment it now felt like things couldn’t possibly be more perfect. He was so happy to finally be out of the cell; he couldn’t find the energy to be angry at the Fae for treating him like a lesser person. All he cared about right now was that he was warm, clean, sated and most importantly, not alone.
Although it probably wasn’t even close to night, he felt incredibly tired. When Malachi put the comb away he slowly climbed up onto the bed and allowed the Fae to tuck him in, grateful for the sense of safety the familiar gesture brought. Even the before dreaded goodnight kiss was nothing but reassuring this time, and he fell asleep before Malachi even left the room.
Utterly exhausted as he was, Alex slept deep and long, waking up on the following day when the sun already stood high. Compared to the day before the illusion of the dark cell now felt more like a bad dream than a real memory, and his mind was a lot clearer. Looking back he was embarrassed, he had acted like an absolute idiot, crying, begging and even going so far as to seek comfort with the very person that had hurt him.
He also felt stupid for blowing his chances of an easy escape, he should have known that it was useless. Just waiting for and grabbing the first opportunity he got had been a tactic that had worked on Darerca, but Malachi was of a different calibre entirely. No, his next escape attempt would need to be planned carefully if he wanted it to succeed. He would have to collect more information on the palace layout and Malachi’s schedule, making sure that he would be safely out of the forest before the Fae even noticed he was gone.
Routinely Alex dressed in the clothes that had been laid out for him and fed his breakfast to the crows in the courtyard. He couldn’t let Malachi ever catch him again. This time he had only punished him with an illusion, and despite the extreme effects it had had on him, an illusion probably wouldn’t suffice a second time. The day before Malachi seemed to have forgiven him, but Alex wondered whether that really would be all.
When the Fae entered his room around noon, he nervously got up to face him.
“How are you today, little human?” Malachi asked, stepped close and gently ran his knuckles over Alex’s cheek.
Alex turned his head away. “I’m fine.”
“That is very good to hear.” Malachi smiled. If he was disappointed that Alex’s clinginess from the day before had disappeared, he didn’t let it show. “You were so distraught yesterday; it was quite piteous.”
“And whose fault was that?” Alex snapped, fed up with the fake concern.
Malachi fixed him with a stern gaze. “No-one’s but your own, of course. Or must I remind you of your appallingly ungrateful actions? Or the way you lied and tried to deceive me?”
Alex swallowed. “No.”
“No what?” Malachi pressed.
“You don’t have to remind me. It was my fault.” Alex hated this; his mouth tasted like bile.
“Very good.” Malachi nodded approvingly. “Since you did not manage to do so before, please do tell me your name now.”
Alex looked away. This was what he had feared, now that Malachi knew ‘Kieran’ had been fake he would force him to reveal his true name.
“Well?” Malachi prompted.
“No.”
“What was that?”
Alex took a deep breath and met Malachi’s eyes squarely. “No, I won’t tell you my name.”
Malachi tsked. “That does not keep the properties, does it? How should I address you without knowing your name?”
“What, as if you don’t prefer calling me all sorts of ridiculous nicknames anyways?” Alex gave back and immediately regretted his tone when he saw Malachi’s expression.
“You are aware that I could simply torture it out of you, right?” Malachi said matter-of-factly, causing Alex to take a step backwards. “But then again, you could merely continue to lie to me, pretending to be controlled by one fake name after the other, wasting our precious time.” He sighed. “Ah, well. It isn’t as if I’d truly require your name anyways. There might merely be a few inconveniences arising for you thereby.”
Alex didn’t like the smile Malachi gave him on that one bit. He didn’t dare to move away when Malachi stepped in close again and cupped his cheek.
“I felt quite betrayed by your unruly behaviour yesterday, and I’m afraid that I won’t be able to trust you again soon, especially not without knowing your name,” he said. “But it isn’t healthy for humans to stay inside for a long time, therefore we will have to make use of a slightly different method. Call it a precaution.”
Alex was confused as to what Malachi was referring to and stared in shock when he saw the Fae pull out a leash. He tried to jerk away, but Malachi kept him in place effortlessly with a hand on the back of his neck. Shame and humiliation burned through him as the Fae hooked the filigree gold chain into the front of his collar. He wanted to protest but knew it would be pointless.
“Now, now, cheer up, my sweet,” Malachi said good-humouredly and patted his cheek. “If you do well practising here today, I will take you outside again soon.”
What followed was one of the most humiliating experiences of Alex’s life. He wanted nothing more than to fight Malachi and refuse, but didn’t dare to upset the Fae even more than he already had. On the one hand he was very glad that no one else would see him like this while they “practised”, on the other he could barely imagine anything more humiliating than to be led around on a leash in a room. At first Malachi held the leash rather short and pulled steadily, forcing Alex to follow if he didn’t want to be chocked.
Eventually, Malachi stopped and yanked the leash down. “Kneel.”
Reluctantly Alex obeyed, internally dying of shame.
“Good boy,” Malachi praised and petted his head. “You are doing well so far.”
Alex swallowed and turned his face away; he didn’t want to see Malachi’s smugness.
“Well, what do you think? Doesn’t this just work beautifully?” Malachi asked, sounding way too happy for Alex’s taste.
“It’s awful,” Alex replied truthfully. “It’s humiliating and I hate it.”
Malachi forced Alex to look up at him with a hand twisted tightly in his hair. “Is that so? I think you should be more grateful that I allow you to walk upright and don’t make you crawl.” He smirked at Alex’s horrified expression, clearly enjoying himself.
Alex was so glad when shortly thereafter Malachi gave the leash a sharp yank again and said, “Up.”
Leading him around the room now, Malachi gave the leash more slack and seemed pleased that Alex still followed.
“Such a smart pet, learning so fast!” Malachi cooed, and Alex had to use all of his control not to punch him.
When they came close to the bed Malachi yanked down again, and Alex obediently knelt on the pillow at the foot, earning himself a head pat in praise. To his horror Malachi tied the leash to a bed post and strictly said, “Stay.” Then he left the room.
Alex shifted his weight, unsure of how long he was supposed to wait like this. He hated it, at least before he hadn’t been treated like a dog, but apparently Malachi had to humiliate him more every day. Even though he wasn’t in pain, Alex felt like crying. He hated the clinks the chain links made whenever he moved, despite their quietness each of them felt like a slap in the face.
What if that was it? What if he wouldn’t be able to escape and this was his life now? He was already a lot further gone than he would have ever expected; wearing a collar, tied to a bed post with a leash, kneeling obediently and waiting for his owner. He shouldn’t just sit here and accept it; he should fight every second and refuse to give in even one inch. But whenever he thought about fighting, he inevitably thought about the punishments as well.
When Malachi returned he was clearly pleased with Alex’s behaviour, immediately slid a hand into his hair and praised him.
“You’re doing so well, darling,” he murmured and sat on the bed, placing the tray of food he’d carried next to him. “You have earned yourself a treat.”
Of course Alex’s traitorous stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, rendering his hopes of pretending to not be hungry impossible. He obediently leaned in to take the sweet confection Malachi offered him with his mouth, closing his eyes in bliss at the marvellous taste. At any rate the faerie food would make it easier for him to forget the awfulness of his situation, at least for a little while.
#tw drugging#tw dehumanisation#tw humiliation#tw non-consensual touching#collared and leashed#creepy comfort#whump#pet whump#fae whump#pet whumpee#broken whumpee#back to#defiant whumpee#fae whumper#intimate whumper#creepy whumper#unseelie pet series#alex#malachi#my writing#conditioning#mentions of torture
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#19 Excuse for Tavra and Onica!! (of course)
Thanks for the prompt! Excuse can be a noun or a verb so I tried to sneak both in, I hope you like it!
The Love Charm
“I’ve heard you can help me,” said the visitor, as she followed Elder Cadia into the tent.
It was springtime and the Elder’s ship was moored by the cliffs of Ha’rar. His tent sat in their shadow, nestled along the coast. He walked ahead and peered through a beaded curtain into the parlor at Onica. He gave her a look that said it was time to get to work, then he returned to his guest.
She listened to them talk on the other side of the curtain as she prepared the room. She set a bundle of herbs on a shelf and lit them, filling the little space with fragrant smoke. The lanterns were all lit, the table was cleared, and the charms and potions sat ready in a rack above the burning herbs.
“This is a matter of the heart,” the guest continued, “I am highly eligible, and have my eye set on a match. I need to be seen as approachable, but also unattainable. Flirtatious and aloof, vulnerable but in a confident way, do you understand?”
“Say no more, I am an expert in such things,” Cadia said, parting the curtain and entering the room. He seemed more cheerful than usual, Onica thought, as she took her place standing by his chair.
He led a well-dressed Vapran maiden to a seat at the table. She looked like a cloud, her sleeves puffed out extravagantly. They were billowy and delicate, lace bouncing with each step. A little round hat sat in her hair, brushing the ceiling with its long airy feathers. A satiny blouse, trimmed in gold, spilled out of an iridescent bodice that at times looked sky blue and blush pink. Onica saw now why Cadia was happy. He did not see pretty clothes but wealth.
The guest’s hair fell in ringlets, framing her face in pale gold with hints of pink. Onica was surprised to see that curls were in style in Ha’rar. She would have to ask Tavra about it. They were a short walk from the village, but she rarely went there. They preferred to spend time together away from the Vapran capitol.
The maiden settled into her seat. She looked so out of place in the rustic tent. Its weathered walls were crusted with half dried salt water. The lashed bone supports were yellowed by age and smoke. The fragrant herbs weren’t for ceremony so much as to cover the smell of the wet tent and the Elder.
Onica smiled kindly at her. The maiden looked back briefly and decided to ignore the Sifan serving girl. She turned her attention to Elder Cadia.
“I want to be at my best, with shining hair like the moons glow and a voice like a song.”
“You are lucky, I have potions that will add music to your every word and a shimmer to your hair,” he said attentively.
“Yes, I want those,” she pulled out a pouch and opened it part way revealing the gems inside, “she doesn’t use them, does she?” the maiden asked looking at Onica, seeing her hair’s lack of shine.
“Ha, no, Onica’s charm is all her own,” Cadia said with an eyebrow raised, teasingly.
“Good,” the Vapra replied through a giggle, “will this be enough?” she handed him the pouch.
Cadia nodded to his apprentice and Onica turned to get the potions. Her hands moving over the shelf crowded with bottles, clay jars, and pouches of powder.
It was true, she didn’t use those potions. She knew they didn’t work, or they worked in unexpected ways. The hair potion certainly would make hair shine, but it also made both hair and skin slick as nebie butter. Returning, she placed two little bottles on the table.
“Why stop there?” Cadia said, examining the gems.
“What more can you do?” the Vapra replied excitedly, “I want everything you’ve got, I need to be absolutely irresistible. My darling and I will be the talk of Ha’rar.”
“Well, there is more, but what I have is so powerful, the items are forbidden in decent society. You may drive your intended mad with desire,” he looked at the maiden as he held back a grin, “also they are quite costly.”
“The cost is nothing,” she said pulling loose a delicate silver cord around her neck. There were more gems beaded along the its length. Cadia sat back and sighed, as she handed them to him.
“All right, but you must be very careful with what I’m about to give you,” he explained as Onica returned to the shelf. This time grabbing a love charm and a little vial of perfume. She placed them on the table.
“Put a drop of this on the nape of your neck, and your love will be drawn to you like the setting sun to the horizon,” he mused, looking at the bottle as if it were potent as poison. The perfume did have a sweet smell but it did not bring out love or lust in others, only occasional compliments.
“And this is the most powerful of all,” the Elder picked up the charm, a simple pod root wrapped in blue ribbon.
“It’s so plain!” the maiden blurted out as she looked at it curiously.
“Looks can be deceiving, you say the name of your love three times then place it beneath your pillow and, by next full Pearl moon, their heart will be yours,” he handed it to her.
She took the charm, so excited to use it she could barely wait. With two hands she held it up to her chest and closed her pretty eyes. “Tavra, Tavra, Tavra” she said with desire, ready to begin its matchmaking magic. She could practically see them together, her hanging on the royal paladin’s arm.
The sound of Tavra’s name hit Onica like a blow. There was a thud and a clatter. Knees suddenly buckling beneath her, Onica fell backwards catching herself on the shelf. The bottles rattled along with her nerves. A puff of smoke followed as the smoldering bundle of herbs fell to the ground. In a panic, she stomped it out in a cloud of soot and embers. She reached up to steady the shelf as her foot continued to strike the ground.
Cadia looked up with a scowl.
“What’s wrong with her?!” the Vapran maiden shouted in distress.
“Oh! I just,” Onica gasped, “I, if you’d please, um, excuse me,” she went on, trying to stay calm.
The Elder shook his head and narrowed his eyes in a look of searing anger. He was red with rage, but he had to remain civil to finish his dealings.
“Go! You are excused for the night!” he barked, clutching tight the gems.
Onica stumbled outside and took deep breath. Fresh sea air replaced the smell of smoke as the panic slowly passed. She wanted to go back, to tell that fancy Vapra she was wasting her time and gems. But she didn’t. It was a relief to know none of the Elder’s love charms worked.
Sometimes she forgot that Tavra was, in almost every one’s mind, unattached. Onica trusted her endlessly but it still hurt knowing that’s what they had was secret, and it might always be. It made her stomach turn.
Leaning against a rock, she tried to calm herself. She could hardly blame this pretty gelfling for trying to win Tavra over. This and other thoughts floated through her mind.
While looking out to sea, she remembered something Cadia had said, long ago, in this same place. Being near Ha’rar made him pensive and one evening he remarked “when someone cares for you they will endure hardship and overlook your shortcomings. And when they don’t they will find any excuse to leave. It’s not something that can’t be controlled.” He had looked into the distance, glossy eyed and thoughtful. At the time, it made her wonder who had left him. Perhaps he had tried a potion to keep them.
Love was not a trick and not something to be won with fine clothes and charms. It came from somewhere else. It was comforting to know, that no amount of gems could buy it. It’s magic was mysterious, pulling her and Tavra together when everything else kept them apart.
She looked beyond the sea to the evening sky. The stars were just beginning to shine, no longer concealed by the light of the suns. Other lights too became clearer, like the lanterns on the cliffside path that led to the village. The seafarer’s lantern shone in the evening twilight. Onica saw a shadow pass by it, then it passed again. Someone was up there. She rushed away knowing who it might be.
Each evening they would meet on the path by the glow of the lantern. Their nights were filled with long walks and stories, and quiet moments hidden away. Some nights they would fall asleep beneath the stars and wake up together with morning dew clinging to their clothes.
Tavra was here early, waiting. Onica heard her before she saw her. She was singing quietly to pass the time.
“And her hair did shine like the moons own glow, her voice was a song she was singing to my soul…”
Onica followed the sound, hoping to surprise her, but Tavra turned quickly and caught her. Their eyes met and Tavra smiled.
The gravel path crackled beneath Onica’s feet as she ran into her arms nearly knocking Tavra over. Onica kissed her like she was claiming a prize. Tavra liked the sudden rush of affection, it was sweet and unexpected.
“I missed you,” she whispered, burying her face in Tavra’s neck. It had been less than a day since they were last together. A moment later their lips met again. Then Onica leaned back to look into the Vapra’s green eyes. They shone in the low evening light.
“Do you sing that song when you’re in town, about the hair like the moon?”
Onica asked the strangest questions sometimes, Tavra thought.
“I sing it when I’m thinking of you,” she smiled and kissed her again, “so I sing it everywhere.”
She ran her hand through the Sifa’s lovely hair. She tried to guess what Onica was thinking. She looked upset, though she tried to hide it.
“Would ... would we be the talk of Ha’rar, if we were,” Onica was hesitant to speak, “never mind.”
“Where are these questions coming from?” Tavra was confused, but she tried to answer, “when we are bound, I’m sure we will be the talk of the Seven Clans,” she said thoughtfully with a slight smirk.
“When we are bound?” Onica asked putting special emphasis on the when, surprised that Tavra was so certain, surprised and happy.
“Yes when,” Tavra replied. This was serious talk and she wasn’t sure what Onica might think. But she meant it wholeheartedly and, if things were different, they would already be bound.
“That seems so impossible,” Onica said resting on her shoulder.
“No, this is impossible, that will be a breeze.”
~Notes~
The advice Cadia gives Onica was based on something a friend said to me after a breakup and it was the inspiration for the story. It’s simple but really hit at the time.
And the Vapran maiden was a background character from AoR, I don’t think she has a name but she is very fancy and knows what she wants.
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Himmeløyne [3/?]
Pairing: Loki Odinson x Reader
Words: 3.5k | Catch Up Here | Masterlist
Warnings: Flirty Loki during sparring sessions... I think?
A/N: So, I took a page out of one of my other fics and sped up the plot towards the end. Not much to say except... I haven’t proofread yet.
Taglist is open just send an ask!
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~HEIMDALL
The stars burned with eternity's kiss, leaving colourful splashes of supernovas and violently colliding gasses across the black canvas of existence. All the while, Heimdall's eye's strained to stay open and alert.
For all his efforts in being the silent watcher, he couldn't hold the empty feeling of failure at bay. Everything around him became a muted mirage as soon as he learned the woman he once loved drew breath no longer. Worse yet, he had been too blind to realise he had a daughter. The knowledge that her energy had been masked from his sight by ancient magic’s didn't bring him comfort either.
He didn't know how to be a father. All he knew was the eternal sentence he had been charged with: to watch and protect. And in one single, magnificent instance, he had failed at both.
Heimdall had wondered many things since the Allfather had confirmed his fears. He wondered what Sigrid had named their child. He wondered what his daughter had looked like as a newborn, wrapped in a blanket all warm and small. She had been unconscious for days since her abrupt awakening. Frigga had assured him she'd live, but had been too afraid to face her.
That was going to end today. He couldn't cower in fear any longer. It was time he face his new reality.
Heimdall made his way to the healing chambers, his fingers absentmindedly trailing along the ridges of the braid of hair Sigrid had given him before he returned to Asgard. It was a habit that always calmed him, but lately, all it did was remind him of what he lost.
Guarding the entrance to the chamber was Lady Sif. She had an imposing expression on her features, she reminded Heimdall of how intimidating the Valkyrie's once stood; uncompromising sentries with fiery spirits.
"Heimdall?" She asked, unexpectant of his visit.
"Lady Sif," he greeted back. "May I have a moment with the Midgardian woman?"
"She still sleeps."
"I only mean to try and discover what magic’s she employed to blind me from her."
Sif looked at him hesitantly, then gave a simple kurt nod. "I'll give you a moment."
His daughter slept seemingly at peace, although, from the way her eyelids would twitch, he could tell it wasn't a pleasant slumber.
He respectfully placed his helmet on a nearby surface before slowly encroaching towards her.
She was beautiful in a wild and fragile way. A human who embodied the spirit of a forest. He unknowingly began to reach for her, fingers trembling.
"Do my eyes deceive me, or is the great unmoving statue, Heimdall seer of worlds, away from his post?" Loki's lively voice started Heimdall's hand back to his side.
Heimdall straightened his spine, "I was simply curious as to how she managed to mask herself from my eye."
"Peculiar one, isn't she?" Loki peered over Heimdall's shoulder. "I must say, she caught my interests too."
Heimdall's jaw clenched, side-eyeing the dark prince, "How so?"
"A half-mortal witch, with powers unlike any we've ever seen, who doesn't know how to control her own abilities?" Loki scoffed with intrigue. "Even my mother is enchanted by her. Not to mention that pesky little brand marking."
Loki's brows furrowed in contemplation, his eyes staring at a symbol branded into her arm. It was the same symbol Sigrid had. She had told him it was a rite of passage for the women in her bloodline, but he knew better. That was Odin's symbol. Odin's magic.
Suddenly, everything fell into place. That symbol was the reason he couldn't sense her.
Heimdall's knuckles cracked from the pressure of his stone fist, anger biting at him.
"Perhaps you may be able to help solve this particular puzzle?" Loki asked. "It would be in the interest of Asgard's safety, after all. Wouldn't it be beneficial to know why the Jotuns attacked and why you couldn't see the attack coming? Helping me solve this would more than return your good standing in my father’s eyes."
Heimdall knew Loki was doing what Loki does best, trying to manipulate him into doing his work for him. That triggered something inside Heimdall.
"I'd watch that silver tongue of yours, my prince." Heimdall fastened his helmet back on his head. "Some are not easily swayed by your honeyed words."
Loki clasped his hands behind his back as he sauntered towards Heimdall with a cheeky grin, "You find my words honeyed? I must say, I'm flattered but--"
"I am required elsewhere," Heimdall abruptly turned and stormed out of the room.
Loki's mouth remained open mid-sentence as he watched the brooding man retreat from the room.
"Well, he's no fun," Loki said in a bored droll.
When no one replied he was reminded that there was no one else in the room save for the unconscious Midgardian woman.
"Damn..." He placed his hands on his hips and uttered to himself: "Perhaps Thor is in a more sporting mood?"
He rubbed his hands together like a man with a scheme and disappeared into one of his portals before Sif returned.
~ODIN
"We'll only be gone a few days at the most," Odin informed his wife. "Heimdall assures me he knows where the giants retreated to. I've decided to take Thor with me. Perhaps, with my guidance, he will grow out of this… war courting phase of his and see reason."
Frigga patted his metal chest plate approvingly.
"Well, dear husband, have you thought on my proposal?" Frigga walked the hallways of the castle with her arm gracefully locked around Odin's.
Odin frowned, "I still believe her to be too dangerous to be allowed to stay here."
"But she has no home to go back to. No family. She is entirely alone," Frigga protested. "With us, she could learn how to use her gifts. Maybe to our advantage..."
Her eyes peered into his and Odin let out a restrained smile, "You are relentless."
"A queen has to be, my love."
They stopped once they reached the courtyard. Odin's horse had just been saddled, troops gearing up in preparation for a battle. Thor stumbled out from the direction of a tavern, his cheeks and nose dusted pink from mead. He held out his hand to call out Mjolnir. The hammer flew into his grip. Thor then dunked his head in a barrel of water and stretched his large muscles with a roaring noise emanating from his chest.
"It's time for glorious battle!" He exclaimed excitedly.
Odin sighed wearily, his face turning to Frigga's. She smiled humorously.
"I don't know why you're smiling. He's your son."
"And yours," she said.
Odin kissed her goodbye before mounting onto his seven-legged horse, "I'll have an answer about the girl when we return."
"Do not fear, Mother. When I return, your son shall be known through-out all nine realms as a great hero of Asgard!" Thor bellowed proudly.
"Just make sure he doesn't overreach and lose himself along the way," Frigga patted his cheek.
Thor swung his hammer around with a cock cocky smirk, "That's what the hammer is for!"
"Be careful!" Frigga blew them a kiss as they rode for the bi-frost
~Y/N
You had been in and out of consciousness for almost a week. Some days were more lucid than the others. It felt like an aeon since you'd held a single train of thought or seen a friendly face. Your mind was ill at ease, locking inside a prison of harrowing afterimages, so once you awoke, relief flushed through your system.
You gasped awake, your body less sore than the first time.
"Easy," a woman’s soothing voiced helped usher you to consciousness. "Your body may be healed, but you've been unconscious for a while."
You opened your eyes, the room looked foggy. In your groggy state, you had mistaken this woman's voice for your mothers and you called out sheepishly, "Mother?"
"Not quite dear."
You blinked away the remnants of sleep and sat up from your bed. When your vision grew clearer you got a better look at the woman. She was beautiful in a timeless way, graceful yet somehow permeating an air of wisdom. Her hair was as gold as straw, eyes mirroring the colour of her silk blue gown.
"My name is Frigga, child." She steadied you. "What's your name?"
"Y/N..." You said lowly as your eyes landed to the dark figure leaning against the door frame, beside him was a woman dressed in armour, a statuesque expression.
"Beautiful name," she mused. "Do you know where you are?"
"A- Asgard..." You said wistfully.
"That's right," she encouraged with a bright smile. "Try and stand."
You did as she suggested, your legs wobbled ever so slightly before correcting.
"Come," she urged you. Taking your hand in hers as she started walking out of the room. "Let's get you to some light."
You allowed Frigga to steer you towards the outside, thankful to be away from that accursed room that still smelt of nightmares and anxious fits.
Behind you, the man from the balcony stretched his arm out to block the intimidating woman from following after with uncomfortable closeness. She swatted his hand away, but he simply brought it back up to block her once more. "Give her space. You don't want her to wither under your… watchful eye." He said with a low lilt.
The warrior woman rolled her eyes and stayed a respectable distance from you. So did the dark-haired man.
Frigga used this private walk to try and explain everything to you. How you survived the attack, how your fate was still undecided and how you had magical abilities.
"I- I possess magical abilities?" You couldn't believe your own words.
Frigga laughed lowly, "Don't be so alarmed child. If history has taught us anything, it's that we women have an aptitude for channelling powers more primal than most can comprehend."
"How come?" You asked
She looked at you with a prideful smirk, "Well, as my mother would tell me: It's because we're better listeners." She winked secretly.
You laughed at her unexpectedly witty retort.
"You have a marvellous laugh," Frigga commented. "It is good to see some light back in you." She rubbed your back affectionately. You were lost for words at her kindness.
"Now," She turned to face the dark-haired man and the angry-looking warrior woman. "Let me introduce you to my son, Loki. He has been charged as your mentor until Odin returns. He's well versed in the art of magic-" she leaned in closer to whisper this part: "Though I will warn you, he is a little too cunning for his own good."
Frigga leaned back up and continued, "Loki shall help train you to better understand your gifts while you stay here. And Lady Sif, over here, has been assigned to protect you."
Uncertain, you asked, "Why would I need protection here?"
Frigga paused, "Hmmm… Magic has a tendency to have a mind of its own. It's simply a precaution."
You caught Loki smile at you and tilt his head. He knew something you did not and it brought him great amusement. Frigga shot him a warning look and his face returned to a more relaxed and open expression.
Even though it wasn't said aloud, you knew the implication of having a protector. As much as you were a guest, you were also a prisoner. Those two distinctions always shared the same coin toss. No matter how much you yearned to return to simplicity, normalcy, and your own world, the realisation that you were stranded, alone and without knowledge forced you to swallow the ugly truth; you had no alternatives but for the path that lay ahead of you.
Reluctantly, you bowed your head and introduced yourself, "It'd be an honour to train under you, Prince Loki. My village has spun many tales about you."
"None too unflattering, I hope?" he replied after he took his own bow.
"Depends on what one considers flattery," you retorted, prompting Sif to huff in amusement.
"And, Lady Sif, I hope we can work in harmony around one another," you continued.
"You'll have no qualms with me as long as you abide by Asgard's rules." Her words weren't outright threatening, but there was a warning hidden behind her thin smile.
"Now that we're all acquainted, it's time you settled in," Frigga said sweetly. "Loki, would you mind showing Y/N to her quarters?"
"It would be my pleasure," he said coyly.
***
Loki's dark green attire contrasted with the light ocean tones of your room. You smirked at the thought they had chosen this room because of the fact it reminded you of the ocean. They had been correct in assuming so.
"That's a welcome change," Loki noted as he stared at your face unabashedly.
You rose a quizzical brow. He pointed to your lips.
"The smile. My mother will be delighted to learn you found the room to your liking," he guessed the cause of your smile accurately.
He stepped closer, examining you intensely. You felt like his gaze was striping you bare, except there was no lust in his eyes -not like you'd seen in Baldrick's eyes that day in the forest. No, Loki looked at you with the surgical brow of a healer inspecting a patient. You felt anxious as he looked down at you, your spine shivering.
"You've healed well..." His cold fingers hovered close to your chin but didn't touch it. Then his eyes dropped lower at the newly formed scar peeking out over your cleavage cut. His fingers grazed the scarred tissue making you remember all the horrors that birthed it. You recoiled away from his touch instinctively, your hand pulling the fabric closer to hide the long lateral scar. "Not completely, it seems."
He clasped his hands behind his back in an obvious manner. He took a step back letting you find comfort in space.
"You should rest," Loki said. "We begin training tomorrow."
As he walked passed you, you turned and asked, "Where will I find you?"
"The courtyard. Don't worry about how to get there. Lady Sif will never be too far from you. A watchful hawk, she is. She'll bring you to me." He said flatly. "Rest up. Tomorrows your first lesson."
"What is my first lesson?"
He smirked devilishly, "The first lesson of everything: control."
~One Week Later~
"Don't get too cocky," Loki murmured pleasantly against your ear as he held you in an arm lock. "We both know who the master is here..."
You scoffed at his breezy attitude. You'd been training together for a week now and you'd come to learn that Loki loved to win. But more than anything, he enjoyed to taunt you. It turns out his version of teaching you magic was to spar. The goal: knock down your opponent with any and every trick in the book. He explained that learning to control magic in a calm and safe environment was useless in a real struggle. This way he'd get to have some fun while teaching you to keep your wits about you while you burned all your pent up aggression from your nightmares on him.
"Not for long," you said confidently as you used your magic to push his body away from yours in a pulse of electrified blue energy.
Loki stumbled but caught his balance, his daggers still held tightly in his hands.
"A commendable effort," He praised with a sarcastic bow before he threw a dagger at you. You telekinetically drew your shield towards you from the place he had knocked it down earlier, shielding yourself from the projectile. It bounced off your shield with a resonating ping.
"Your abilities have grown beyond my expectations," he said through ragged pants, pulling his hair back with his free hand.
Loki sprinted after you and you bashed his attacked away with your shield, a gonging noise echoing out.
Sif and Frigga stood and watched your exchange from the balcony above the courtyard. Their expression stark opposites of one another; Frigga's filled with excitement while Sif looked beyond bored.
"I have an excellent teacher," you said.
Loki smiled, "Nice try-" Loki opened several portals, pulled your weapons through each adjacent portal and materialised them several feet away, leaving you disarmed. He then managed to lock you in a second grip, "But I fear flattery cannot afford you any special treatment."
You felt his chest move up and down raggedly against your back, your hands gripping his elbows locked around your neck.
"Perhaps I was trying to distract you," you said suggestively as you tilted your head to face him. Your eyes staring into his as you licked your lips slowly.
Loki's mouth hung open before you used his dazed state to exchange positions, your magic flinging his dagger out of his hand and into yours.
Loki grumbled in disappointment, "You toy with my feelings so easily." You laughed in soft breathy exhales while he found a blind spot in your stance and slithered out of your grasp. Then he continued dramatically: "I'm hurt."
"Admit it, it was working," you said with some trouble as the flush set in on your cheeks.
"I shall do no such thing," he whispered in your ear in triumph.
"Time out," you patted his arm and he let you go. Loki handed you a flask of water once he finished drinking from it and then wiped the sweat from his face and arms with a cooled towel. You swallowed down the water greedily, your eyes lingering a little too long on his exposed muscles before you turned to look up at Sif -Frigga now out of sight. "Is she always going to be there, hovering over my shoulder, never farther than a stone's throw away."
Loki followed your eyes, "Sif is… a difficult nut to crack, slow to trust outsiders. She still thinks you're dangerous. And if your aptitude for magic is any indication, she's not wrong."
You exhaled at his blatant attempt at flattery, before pointing out nonchalantly: "You aren't trembling in my presence."
Loki arched a brow and smirked, "I only make it a habit to tremble from pleasure, young apprentice. Not fear."
Your eyes went wide as you choked on the flask of water mid swig causing Loki to snicker playfully.
Your face lit up with the inklings of an idea.
"I suppose that means I should change up my tactics," you flirted.
"I'd be happy to give you some pointers sometime," Loki added as he put his coat on.
You sauntered with purpose over to him, "Why not right now?"
Loki looked back up at Sif, "I don't like an audience."
Before he could say anything else, you used your magic to call forth several vines that were creeping along the walls of the palace, wrapping him firmly in a spiralling knot.
"Hkkk! You tricked me?" His eyed you up and down with a fiendish smile on his lips. "Maybe I should fear you, using such devious tactics to declare a win after you called time out."
Your boot kicking up the dagger laying on the ground into your palm. The blade pressed firmly against his Adams apple, your face within a hairsbreadth away from his, noses almost touching, lips barely an inch away.
"Don't act like this isn't the type of stunt you'd pull..."
"I may be sore, but I'm not a sore loser. I know when it's time to concede." His hands peeking out of the vines waved in defeat, a mirage of a white piece of fabric being waved about. You undid the veins and set them back onto the walls they came from in sparkling glints of magic.
Loki worked the kinks out of his neck in slow circles, "Alas, fair maiden, this round is yours.
Your ego was thoroughly inflated as you rose your hands in the air in triumph. The on-lookers clapping, laughing and murmuring.
Loki bowed in honourable defeat but whispered low enough for only you to hear, "Heed my words when I say, your victory will not be long-lived. Enjoy it while it lasts."
Loki winked and you felt the sizzle of electricity run through you.
You may not know much about this new world, but one thing you knew for sure: Loki was trouble. Not just any kind of trouble, the fun kind. And after everything, you deserved a little fun.
<<Chapter Four>>
If you enjoyed this story don’t be afraid to like, reblog or comment. I don’t bite.
Tags: @mejohanssonwrites @tarynkauai @wanderlust-travler @ladybugsfanfics @electroma89
@gruffle1 @thechickvic @notawarriorjustyet @the-reader-in-the-rye
#loki x reader#loki odinson x reader#loki laufeyson x reader#loki imagine#loki#thor#odin#frigga#sif#heimdall#original characters#asgard#marvel imagine#loki fic#Himmeløyne fic#tom hiddleston
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Send me a ☎ for how my muse would react to your muse finding them during a break down.
This wasn’t right, this was not alright in the slightest. Why was the pressure suddenly so hard to bare? Everything, every single thing that lead up until now felt like it was making it harder to breathe. Then, suddenly, someone sees her mask falter. Her facade becomes clearer, to all her classmates. They all stared at her, in disbelief. Until even herself, stood there in disbelief. She didn’t waste a second, turning on her heels to run, run away from the failure she had done. No one was suppose to see her. No one was suppose to be able to see Milene’s true face. Even Milene had never seen her true face. She couldn’t remember who she was, what she was. Not since the day her mother passed. The days where her father was strict and she had to become everything he wanted, she had to lie, she had to deceive. So much so that she did it even to herself.
She found herself away from all her classmates, alone. Her mind frantic, trying to figure out how to fix this, how to fix the crack that was now in her mask. The broken pieces at her feet and she had no idea how to fix what had been done. For the first time, she looked at her hands, her hands that started to shake. What was happening? She felt like she was crumbling, but she couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t. She inhaled deeply, trying to settle herself, but it faltered when she heard steps behind her. Quickly spinning around, it was Kokichi. Without realizing it, her facial expression was something that was never seen. Her eyes were wide, as if with fear. Something Milene never showed. Though, finally taking in that it was Kokichi before her she tried to regain her composure, but realizing that she couldn’t. So she merely turned her back to him yet again. “W-What do you want Kokichi?” She forced out, trying to control her voice but struggling to do so. “Go...Go away! You’re the last person I’d ever want to see!” She tried to threaten him. It was true, Kokichi was just a reflection. A constant reminder of what she was. A liar, a deceiver, something she hated. She grasped one hand in another, trying to calm her shaking. It fell silent, she waited to hear his footsteps walking away, but they never came. Realizing he wasn’t going to leave, she turned around to face him. “I SAID LEAVE!” She yelled at him, hands grasped together. As if yelling at some shadow self that she couldn’t fight off instead of it being Kokichi.
#dearleader#♔ █ ▪ ▫ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪs ᴛʜɪs sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪ sᴇᴇ ( ᴍᴇᴍᴇ )#kokichi finding her is a big oof#him confronting her is like her confronting herself#her inner demons#and that's a big yikes for her
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Week 2: Oct 8th
The Adventures of Dot and Dodger A series of linear prompt one-shots.
Yesterday, I gave myself a time frame in which to complete my chapter. I didn’t make it but I got close. And technically, yesterday’s chapter wasn’t complete so here’s part two.
--
The relief on Stephen’s face was short-lived. He welcomed the reprieve but it usually wasn’t good when Nick Fury put in an appearance on just any conversation. Perhaps he wanted to convey the gravity of the situation and despite Stephen being able to do it himself, he didn’t want to be scrutinized under Dot’s heavy gaze any longer. Reminiscent of a mother’s gaze, Stephen felt censure, disappointment. He realized early in on the conversation that he was finding it difficult in being able to turn his head to catch her gaze and had started to avoid it. A curious feeling the Doctor would be discovering later, he was sure, but what he wasn’t sure was why the effect was so profound. Did it have to do with her empathetic abilities? Was she broadcasting her own that even he was susceptible? Further, did she know that she could manipulate feelings or influence them? He found it hard to believe someone as compassionate as Dot would be abusing her abilities out of malice. He had concluded that she must have been doing it subconsciously. Whatever the reason, it was like a heavy weight had been lifted onto his shoulders when Fury made his presence known.
It was bad enough Stephen felt like he was backing this trio into a corner, he simply couldn’t deceive them anymore. The underhanded, roundabout way Dot, Dodger, and Armand had been dragged into this situation have been S.H.I.E.L.D.’s tactics; they were paranoid for a reason and apparently Fury had every reason to believe everything could and would be compromised given the chance. Everything they executed had a reason whether or not Stephen agreed with it; from Stephen being their first client to this dinky little task of retrieving a Cursed Item. Tests of mettle, of resolve, to see if these two (now three) really wanted to make a difference in their world.
He may have taken it upon himself to become the acting guardian for this earth and that responsibility doubled as soon as it became apparent that pulling these two worlds apart could be the end of both, but that didn’t mean leaving its inhabitants in the dark even if they often didn’t know what was good for them. In addition to this, it was challenging finding the right representatives in a world so “primitive” compared to theirs; compared to Earth-616, this planet’s history was incredibly new, still reeling from the effects of a war hundreds of years ago. Stephen was not as naïve to know this was their planet, too. These three should also decide which direction it should take as with the rest of its inhabitants. Something Nick would be explaining for them and once in a while, this great Sorcerer Supreme would step back to allow another power as commanding as he to take the spotlight and dish out the heavy hits. Stephen would input his two cents as needed but for the most part would lend his support to the conversation.
As expected, Dot and Dodger had their attention on the new addition to their conversation. A tall, commanding character who seemed to wear nothing but black and a trench coat donned an eyepatch that completed the ensemble. In fact, he looked like villain instead of a superhero. Due to his description alone, Dot had an inkling on who this figure was but she didn’t want to assume. Even the Agency’s intel on S.H.I.E.L.D. was murky at best and she had a good idea why. It was a miracle the Agency even had knowledge that S.H.I.E.L.D. existed. But then again, she had no idea how dated the material had been. She was beginning to see that there was little she knew about 616 the more she learned about it. She didn’t feel too bad though; apparently she hardly knew the affairs of 6969, too. She would soon learn though that this was not through any fault of hers.
“What do you mean there’s another reason you focused on us?” Dodger asked, a complete word-for-word phrasing parroted back to the mysterious agent.
“I said what I said, don’t make me start repeating myself, son.” Fury snapped. He sounded like he had little time for nonsense and his reply startled Dodger enough that it made him jerk his head back, deliberating a slow blink and then another as a look of disbelief crossed his features.
“I thought that was a pretty reasonable question to ask,” Dodger challenged. “you come in out of nowhere and lay this cryptic message on our laps like we’re supposed to know what to do with it from there.”
“You’re beginning to sound like Clint.” Fury pointed out, walking further into the room. He pulled up a chair from a nearby desk and sat down. “And that’s not a compliment.” Fury didn’t allow Dodger any room to reply, even if he had wanted to, because he took control of the conversation as soon as he had settled. “The affairs between Humans and Supernaturals, as you people are fond of classifying the entire thing, has had trickling effects leaking into Earth-616 for some time now. Now, we already went through this shit many times in the past but our version of Supernaturals are called Mutants. We ain’t talkin’ about Bigfoot or Nessy, but to compare, they’re like humans who evolved due to a genetic trait. These humans mutate and develop superhero powers as soon as they hit puberty. Instead of Humans vs. Supernaturals as it is here, it became humans vs. mutants when we come from. We’ve come from many situations where we’ve been in your shoes before and sometimes, even superheros get involved. We ain’t perfect but it certainly ain’t helping that we seem to be repeating history if Earth-6969 doesn’t clean up its act soon.
The Human vs. Supernatural debate sparked a whole renewed interest for those on my planet with a bone to pick and we got some key player sore losers over here. We’re beginning to see that shit like this doesn’t die easily even if we’ve turned over every rock and squashed the opposition and it’s becoming even clearer now that innocent people will get thrown into the mix, even if they have nothing to do with being a mutant. Just exhibiting powers alone is enough to earn people’s scorn.”
“Why does it matter so much to those on your planet about the affairs of our people?” Dot asked. Her mouth was turned down in a frown, her eyebrows pinched in the middle with worry. Hearing about the differences between the biases on the two planets didn’t seem all that different to her when put into perspective like this. But it confused her as to why people from 616 are using 6969’s turmoil as a reason to act out their own hatred.
“They just need any reason,” Fury stated, settling his one good eye on Dot. A chocolate hue that matched the ebony shade of his skin. “any reason at all to get their means to an end.”
“Those people sound like villains.” Dot said, meeting Fury’s gaze. “What kind of people are we talking about? People is too broad of a word. Are they villains?”
“As much as politicians can be,” Fury cracked, sounding sarcastic rather than funny. “Unfortunately, these are people in seats of power. People with pull and money that can make things happen.”
“As much as a corrupt government as ours then,” Dodger mused.
“Pretty much. Except that we’re seeing that your government is being heavily swayed by these people in power to crack down on the Supernatural affairs of this world. I believe you started to see the fruits of a certain mayor who elected a certain new Chief in the Agency’s seat?”
“Well, we knew Aldric was a plant and the mayor has some questionable motives he wants to set in motion for the Supernaturals. We didn’t think it’d go anywhere…” Dot said, sounding thoughtful. Maybe a little fearful, too. “Now I’m thinking I should probably take another look at some of his policies he wanted to set into action.”
“But… he’s just one person, right?” Armand asked, turning his head towards Dot and Dodger. “What harm could one mayor do that others will not try to put a stop to?”
“The mayor can actually do a lot even if he’s not blatantly committing criminal acts. I think this works like in 616, too.” Dodger began, turning to cast an inquisitive glance at Fury and Stephen. “The mayor of a city is responsible for implementing legislation passed by a council. They have substantial pull on what occurs in a city and have vetoing powers and the ability to hire or fire staff, such as our old Chief. Our Ashbourne is a big city. A major hub that the Agency mainly works out of; kind of like their Washington, D.C. except our Washington is a wooded land area that has no significant events attached to it because our history is different. Aside from running the city, our mayor does have a lot of influence when it comes to convincing our senators to act upon something that could find its way to Congress and before you realize it, could be passed into law.”
“That’s if he’s smart enough to make the prospect bills he’s proposing look harmless enough to fool everyone into thinking he’s doing it for the good of the State.” Dot added. “A lot of bills get passed into laws that have specifically worded phrases that can mean different things. It’s tricky and underhanded.”
“Even our laws has carefully worded clauses like that,” Fury pointed out. “politics is a dirty game. You have to be smart to play it and even smarter to pull bullshit out of your hat and feed it to everyone to convince them that this is a good idea. So yeah, I’d say some politicians make great villains.”
“We’ve established that governments on both sides can be corrupt,” Stephen interrupted, “but I don’t believe we’ve delved into the scale of how corrupt.”
Fury made a noise of agreement. “To be blunt, we suspect that some 616 politicians are also occupying seats in 6969. We can’t tell for sure who belongs on which planet if people start migrating over but that is something we try to prevent simply for the balance. Sure, we can allow people to start moving back and forth, the earths are two gigantic ass places. Who would not be tempted to? And for the most part, we share a lot of similarities but that also means our resources are not the same. If we allow people to start zapping back and forth between planets, things can get messy. You guys are familiar with the Dovir technology debacle a few years ago?”
Dot and Dodger nodded but Armand shook his head. Fury explained.
“Because Aliens tried taking over your world, you’ve sustained the most damage out of this Great War a long ass time ago. A lot of people were killed and your world was nearly annihilated. But that means all of their technology is located here. Even with a few pieces scattered from 616, that is nothing compared to the landmine you guys are sitting on. It’s also made great strides in terms of advancement for your planet, but eventually, people on 616 got too greedy and wanted some of that too especially after seeing what it could do to bolster our own tech thanks to a certain asshole in his tower, experimenting with this shit. Though I’ll be the first to admit, S.H.I.E.L.D. has benefitted from Dovir technology since the settlement. But that ain’t good enough for some other people.
If you guys have Dovir technology, what other hidden gems do you have that you might not be aware of? That’s just one whispering throughout the ears of many men in seats of power. You can see where I’m going with this, right?”
Armand nodded as did Dot but it was Dodger who answered, “You want to prevent people from easily traveling across realms in order to profit from either planet. In order to do that, you need a power that puts a check into place that holds the governments back from going too far.”
Fury looked impressed or as much as one could with a stoic expression and an eyepatch. “Exactly. But in this case, we just need someone to rival the Agency at the moment. This organization is almost like the counterpart of S.H.I.E.L.D. as in it has a lot more pull than you realize and it’s essentially the only thing in power with the authorization to do something about the Supernaturals. Unlike S.H.I.E.L.D., its brand spanking new and eager to please. However, unlike the Agency, S.H.I.E.L.D. cannot move into 6969 territory without looking like the planet is going under an occupation.
That would be where you guys come in.”
“But, we’re just a couple of people who wanted to start our own business…” Dot argued. “we don’t know about saving the world or espionage, I barely knew the affairs of this planet and that’s because you just told me.”
“Then we’ll teach you. And we’ll continue to guide you.” Stephen offered.
“We don’t even have a full staff. It’s just the three of us.”
Fury leveled his stare on Dot, “And I was just a guy that got shot and spent my ass recovering in a bed, with only two of my best people working with me at the time.”
“Are you insinuating that Dot is going to get shot?” Dodger asked.
“I’m saying you can do it with just three people and you can hire more along the way. Everything has been set into motion for you guys. All you have to do is step up to the plate.”
Dot and Dodger exchanged glances; meaningful, pensive, thoughtful. Dot sighed, running a hand through her curly hair, scratching her scalp before letting it fall to her side. “I think we need more time. At least, to process this information. Frankly, I don’t think you’re giving us much of a choice to say no, but… can we at least have the time to process this?”
It was Stephen and Fury’s turn to exchange glances. It was Stephen who nodded and looked at the trio on the couch, “Of course.”
But Fury didn’t seem finished. He stood up like he was but he was still talking, “Don’t take too long. You’re the only ones who have shown the promise and initiative to undertake this first step to really get things off the ground. It’s a lot, but are you willing to sit by and let this all happen? You branched away from the Agency for a reason, Dot.” he was trained on her now and she was surprised by the sudden finger-pointing. “You wanted to make a difference. I know a whole hell of a lot of people on 616 who would have been in your shoes and would have made the same choice. But the difference between my planet and yours is that you were the only one, first among your kind here, that did. And that’s saying a lot already.”
Dot stood silent as she watched Doctor Strange and Fury leave their office space. Whatever intimidating aura they had, they took with them leaving the room bereft in their wake. It was an odd feeling, knowing that so much fell on her shoulders already without saying she agreed.
“I know I’m going to,” Dot said absently, still staring at the door leading out to the waiting area. “I’m going to agree and say I want to help. I want to make the difference I set out to achieve. But, I’m …kind of scared.”
“We’re not heroes.”
“I know. We’re not but…” Dot paused to face Dodger, her face an unreadable expression that Dodger had a hard time placing. It was why he was taken by surprise by her next statement, “I want to be.”
Tuesday, October 8th was a dreary day. It seemed the sun was hidden behind cloudy weather but couldn’t decide whether it wanted to rain despite the sun never making an appearance. Dot thought idly how great this weather was for telling spooky stories but couldn’t decide which was spookier—the stories or the fact that their planet seemed to be heading down a path that’d lead them to another civil war among themselves.
It didn’t take long for a ray of sunshine to make an appearance. Armand was cleaning his receptionist area when a woman came in, taking a seat in the open area of the waiting room. Armand paused in his cleaning, eyes growing wide as he looked around to see if anyone had been witnessing what he was seeing. A client, right? This was a client, wasn’t it? Armand threw his dust rag over his shoulder and tried to discreetly sit in his seat as if he’d been like that all along.
He picked up a clipboard that had nothing on it, pretending to write something down while sneaking a glance at the woman whose eyes were searching the television screen. She sat primly and proper, back straight that after noticing it, Armand tried to mimic. She was dressed smartly, like an office lady. She wore a two-piece blazer and a pencil skirt the color of dark charcoal. Her legs were incredibly long and well-toned ending on black wedges with an inch-long heel. She held something in her hand, fingers long and dexterous with a French-tip manicure. Her hair was styled in a short bob, the color of honey-blonde. Her head swiveled to catch Armand’s gaze, locking him in place with eyes that seemed as gray as the weather outside. He looked like a deer in headlights, caught that he had been staring.
“W-Welcome to Dot and Dodger, Supernatural Investigations.” He welcomed, trying to cover up that he had been a curious onlooker, trying to imagine himself in the same outfit. “Can I help you?” he asked, eyes flicking on the screen as D.A.D. fed him a script to read from. D.A.D. flashed the thumbs up emoji before the screen went blank.
The woman stood up from her seat and walked over. Her heels made an impressive clack, clack, clack sound and Armand had to hold himself back from peering over the counter to watch them. She slid the piece of paper she was holding onto the top of the counter. She had what could be considered a triangle shaped face with high cheekbones and thickly, arch-shaped brows. A smokey appearance, almost. She had a stern looking face when she wasn’t smiling, but she smiled here. “I’d like to apply for a job if you have any openings.”
Armand’s mouth opened and he gaped, eyes darting back to his computer screen. There was a stick figure on screen who shrugged before it flashed “CALL DOT OR DODGER OVER” as a suggestion. That was immediately what he had done.
Dot didn’t know what to expect when Armand rounded the corner looking really flustered and stuttering about the lady in the waiting room. But she understood completely when she entered the room and saw for herself. She always expected to tower over women in the streets but this was a surprise; their visitor was almost two heads taller than Dot. That was good because the heels had been giving her extra height. The woman then held out her hand, indicating that she was, “Evi Senft. I’m wondering if there’s an opening here. I’d like to apply for a job. I brought my résumé.”
Dot gaped, first sticking her hand in Evi’s (from which she had a very impressive handshake) and then taking the résumé from her to gloss over. Dot was tempted to hire her on the spot despite not knowing what she was applying for. It was a good thing Dodger had shown up. Standing behind her, he startled Dot by asking, “What’s your experience in this field of work?”
“It should all be there in the résumé.”
Dodger’s gaze didn’t waver, “But I’m asking you.”
Evi smiled, not phased by his heavy stare or the semi-challenging way he phrased his statement. She focused on Dot, though, as she spoke. “I’m an accountant. I don’t want to assume but I take it you don’t have anybody to handle the financial aspects of your business? I can do the taxes and take care of the budget if you were looking for anyone to take care of simple stuff like that. I can also do complex tasks if you’d prefer, anything to help run your business efficiently in terms of number crunching.”
“Taxes and budgeting is simple to you?” Dot said with amazement. “I just always have Dodger do my tax related things. Out of sight, out of mind.”
“Yes, indeed.” Dodger looked down at the top of Dot’s head who was still focused on Evi. Then he turned his gaze onto the woman in question. “If I’m already doing the taxes and budgeting for the company, what else could you offer that I’m not doing already?”
Dot nudged Dodger in the ribs since he was right there. “Don’t be rude. She’s qualified to do math stuff like this.”
“There’s no downside to hiring me,” Evi stated. Now she seemed to be challenging Dodger. “I have no doubt you could continue doing the budgeting and taxes for your company but how much more efficient would it be to leave that to me so you could focus on subjects that would need your attention with one less thing on your plate?”
“She has a point,” Dot pointed out, turning around to give Dodger a grin. “That’d leave you to a lot more free time if you just let someone else worry about the expenses every once in a while. Free time you can dedicate to the cases we get in the future.”
“I would be more than glad to accommodate including you into anything I record, sort, or discover as your assistant. I’ve had plenty of experience dealing with government agency records processing data. If anything, I’d be more of a benefit than a hindrance.”
Dodger had gently pulled the résumé from Dot’s grasp to studying it for himself. With Dot backing Evi already, he had a feeling he knew where the decision rested. But he still wanted to make sure for himself in case anything stuck out in the résumé that Evi might have been able to say in this particular line of questioning. But so far, everything he saw was a impressive and he had no reason to turn her down. He gave the résumé to Dot.
“You might be too overqualified to work here.” he gave in.
“But I do want to work here,” Evi pointed out. “if you were honestly considering me.”
“Of course we are!” Dot interrupted, giving Evi her best grin. “Don’t listen to Dodger, he’s just territorial when it comes to his stuff. But this will be a good fit, you’d make a great addition to the company!”
Evi looked relieved, her stern features relaxing. “Does that mean I’m hired?”
“Absolutely!” Dot said, handing the résumé back. She usually praised herself for her judgement in people and Evi was giving off no warning signs, no red flags, or bad feelings that there was something off about her. It probably didn’t help that Dot was attracted to her and that may have clouded her judgement just a teeeeeny tiny bit, but she was more excited over the prospect of hiring an employee! “Uh, we’ll have you start tomorrow, if that’s okay.”
“That’s perfectly fine. I honestly hadn’t considered I’d be interviewed on the spot but I’m glad it turned out this way.”
“There’s still the manner of sitting down with you on an official capacity and sorting out payrate and the like,” Dodger pointed out, bringing Dot back to the business aspect of hiring people. “of course, afterwards, I’ll go over with you our budget and tax returns. Anything else related to our business in terms of account management.”
Dot perked up, “Oh! Oh! I’ll work to clearing out one of these rooms and you can have your own office!”
Evi looked to be a bit overwhelmed, “My own office? I’m just starting out, is that okay?”
Armand smiled, seated in his receptionist area. “This is my office and I started a few days ago.”
Dot laughed, coming around to Armand’s space just so she could hug him around the neck. It always prided her that he seemed so proud in his responsibility and he was doing such a great job being the best little receptionist he could. “That’s absolutely right. This is completely Armand’s office.”
Evi watched the two, her features softening a smidgen. It seemed to comfort the thought of obtaining her own office on her first day—starting tomorrow—and the conversation was soon eased into another topic.
“How did you hear we were hiring, anyway?” Dodger asked as the thought struck him. “We haven’t put any ads in the paper yet. Or made any other circulation in the job fair industry.”
“I was referred here,” Evi admitted. “somebody at the Agency sent me this way.”
Dot spoke too soon. A red flag went up as soon as Evi finished her statement.
“Someone… at the Agency sent you to work for us?”
“I had applied at the Agency and was denied,” she added.
This came as a startle to both Dot and Dodger. Dot was the one who asked, “Who on earth would deny these specs?” she indicated the résumé she assumed was impressive enough to win over Dodger.
Evi laughed, “For much the same reason Mr. Mac Alister gave me. I was too overqualified.”
Dodger said, “…I guess that makes sense. That’s not quite unusual to hear. Sometimes people have to dumb down their applications in order to get a job but… I thought the Agency accepts basically anybody that shows promise.”
“Well, the Agency has its rejects too.” Dot stated with contempt. Evi and Dodger glanced over, surprised at the tone in her voice. She sounded personally betrayed. Dodger looked sympathetic as Dot continued, “It’s not unusual at all. We should just put it out there that we’ll be willing to welcome the Agency’s rejects.”
“I’ve never considered myself a reject before,” Evi started. “but it doesn’t sound like too bad a position to be if this is where I end up.”
Dot smiled, genuinely.
By the time Evi left, Dot had a lot more to think about. Before she had a chance to touch down on it, though, Fury walked into their office. Sans Stephen, this time.
“I hope you’ve come to terms with what we’ve asked of you. I’d hate to have made the trip all the way down here for nothing.”
Dot turned around from the fridge as Fury filled the breakroom’s door. She took in a deep breath, calming her heart before saying, “I really hope you’re not talking to me in that tone, Mr. Nicholas Fury.”
Fury surprised her by chuckling, taking a seat across from her as she sat down with her lunch. “I’ll admit you’re the only one who can seem to match me in a stern enough tone to make me think over my own. But I’m seriously asking you. Have you?”
“Would you have really given us the choice if we wanted to opt out?” Dot countered. Her meal sat untouched and she had a feeling she wasn’t going to be able to eat until this conversation was over.
“No. But you’re not going to, are you?”
Dot sighed; a deep breath in and a long breath out. “I just wanted to be a quiet little nobody who occasionally broke into people’s homes and did some detective work.”
“You can still do those things.” Fury stated which caused Dot to look up at him with an expression filled with sarcasm. “We’re not asking you to become this huge movement. You can still do your private eye thing but you’re working with us. Think of it like, scratching my back and I’ll scratch yours. We’re each other’s eyes and ears on our respective planets, a partnership.”
“But your organization is attached to your government; how does that weed out the corruption if we’re doing as you’re swaying us to do? We’re more or less okayed by the government to be our own business but we don’t really work for them but on a lesser scale. I mean, …right?”
Fury saying nothing didn’t reassure her. Dot tried another angle, “…I thought you said this was a partnership.”
It was Fury’s turn to sigh. “We’re still working things out. The people I answer to don’t know I’m setting this kind of thing up. And the government you’re sanctioned with, the government you know, don’t know you’re doing anything either.”
“I can see the logic in that, I think, but what happens if this blows up in our faces.”
“It can’t.”
“But it could.”
“It just can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because we can’t fail.”
Dot was beginning to see what sort of person Nick Fury was as she stared at him from across the table. He was so adamant on this idea, he was almost desperate. She was beginning to feel like the reluctant hero trope.
“Alright. We can agree to being a part of this… whatever you’re calling this—”
“The Avengers Initiative.”
Dot’s eyes widened, “Didn’t you already do that on your planet?”
Fury shrugged, “It’s like a side B.”
“This isn’t a cassette tape.”
“I’ll work on the name,” Fury said, dismissing the issue. It was clearly something he was still working on and unknown to Dot, he just said the first thing that popped in his mind. He continued, “Anyway, on the basis that you’d agree—”
“Even though we had no choice—”
“On the basis that you’d do what I said ‘cause I said it, I’m going to give you your first mission.” He ignored the look Dot was giving him, for his own good or otherwise was to be determined, to reach into his trench coat and slide a file across the table at her. “I can’t always meet up with you like this so some missions are going to be handed down by Doctor Strange with that handy two-way dimensional teleport thing you guys got goin’ on in one of your rooms around here.”
Dot eyed the file but she didn’t touch it. Not yet. She still had attitude on her face from Fury’s previous retort, “If we’re going to be partners, I hope you can expect the same level of sass I’m going to be giving you right back, Mr. Bossypants.”
A grin spread across Fury’s face, clearly enjoying the banter. “Now I’m going to have to take some time to think this over.”
Dot shook her head good-naturedly as she watched Fury stand up. He walked to the breakroom’s door and barely got around the corner when Dot heard, “What the—what god-awful demon possessed you to wear that?”
Dot was curious, pushing her food away to stand and peer around the corner. She had to laugh out loud—Armand was dressed in an office lady outfit, much like Evi had been wearing earlier. He must have raided her closet and that’s what he had been doing this entire time. She could see that while nothing was wrong with his outfit, Armand had tried to do his make-up like Evi’s—except he didn’t know how to apply make-up on his face. It was caked on in a thick layer with dark rings around his eyes and dark blush that hollowed out his cheeks. To top it off, he had very angry looking eyebrows and apparently startled Fury on his way out.
“What?” Armand asked, looking around. “Don’t I look chic?”
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PSEUDO-SINGULARITY: THE UNDERGROUND WORLD OF AGARTHA.
or, charri’s attempt to rewrite the singularity! / @savepnt requested to be @’ed
Something I liked about this Singularity is the interplay between order and chaos, a perfect example of what happens when the good intentions of humans-- to protect their own, to live a happy life, to eradicate injustice-- are taken to their extremes, and become fetters which imprison humans in their own ideals. In contrast to the “Human Evils” of Shinjuku, Agartha displays the “Good Intentions” of humanity, and challenges the protagonist to consider their own ideals at the same time. The “Utopia” is an extremely important aspect, given the wish fulfilled by the Demon Pillar in this Singularity is “safety”.
Where good, evil, and neutrality all lead to destruction and stagnation, what is the correct choice?
So, with that all in mind, I thought I’d outline what my own Ritsuka was experiencing this Singularity, as far as canon goes. Though I’m mainly just taking the parts I like, and deleting the rest. A lot of it, I’m writing down my own perspective for. (...So I thought, and then I got to chapter 10...)
Other Master muses are free to take what they want from this, or even adopt it as their version of Agartha. I just had fun doing it ‘w’
AGARTHA: CONTINENT UNDER THE EARTH.
Mission: Find the missing Servants, destroy the Demon God Pillar, and retrieve the Holy Grail.
Factions:
Ys, City of Hedonism: A watertop city of pirates who plunder, drink, and kill as they like without thought to anyone else, under the leadership of the Pirate Princess who uses and casts out, taking joy only in the pursuit.
El Dorado, the Golden City: A territory along a riverbed, housing Amazons who perfect their bodies in combat, and reject the presence of men, led by a merciless General who will chase out threats with the vigor of a wild beast.
Bu Ye Cheng, the Nightless City: A golden city in the underground, gleaming with bright lights even at night; though perfectly orderly at first glance, corruption runs deeply through its roots. Its leader stays out of its people’s view, but their lackeys patrol the streets, crushing any sign of resistance.
Shangri-La, the Utopian Valley: A land of eternal springtime, serving as the headquarters of the Resistance. Led by a Servant who’s lost his memory, Rider, they slowly build their forces and take in fallen refugees, biding their time before the ultimate battle...
What I’d do here is, of course, take out the gendered violence and have each city focused less on “abuse men because that’s our author’s kink >:(” and more on pressuring surrounding territories to accept their ideals / raiding them for treasure and profit / protecting their own people from harm. They each believe that their way of life will make their people happy. That is the ultimate goal of a leader, and thus the ultimate ideal behind each faction, even the Resistance (who bear a similarity to El Dorado).
Columbus gets turned into mana prisms and a different sailing Servant takes his place; I personally nominate Topa Inca Yupanqui, legendary Incan ruler who scouted the Pacific on a ten-month voyage. It’s important that the Servant be a sailor, but I personally don’t care for Chris Combustion to be a Servant at all. Sure, it should be someone vaguely connected to the concepts of Agartha, but I think "emperor of a disappeared (read: obliterated and colonized) empire” fits the general setting, especially given the inclusion of El Dorado.
Support: Astolfo (Caster, wielding the Book of Logistilla), Arturia Pendragon (Assassin, wielding Carnwennan)
I chose Support Servants out of their usual class, because this story is supposed to be fantastical and unusual, so even Servants summoned from Chaldea have a strange role to play. I also chose Servants with “Lawful Good” and “Chaotic Good” alignments to go with the theme of this Singularity.
I’d also change the Servant bonus to be those with “Lawful” or “Chaotic” attributes.
Opposing Servants:
Assassin of the Nightless City, Wu Zetian; Caster of the Nightless City, Scheherazade; Berserker of El Dorado, Penthesilea; Pirate Princess, Dahut; Giant Berserker Herakles Megalos; and Chosen of the Mahatmas, Ascendant Blavatsky.
“There were those who only loved to plunder, those who sought safety in law, and those who sought safety in isolation and eradication. Then, of course, there was the woman who thought she was the next Messiah...”
...
Agartha, a Pseudo-Singularity existing under the earth, where nothing should live, yet magical energy disrupts the normal flow of time and space, as usual.
“Also, it appears some Servants have disappeared from Chaldea, and the Singularity is likely to blame, so keep an eye out for them, would you? ☆”
As if they had a choice!
Thrust suddenly into this mysterious, alien world, under attack by three factions, the Chaldea party escapes south to an idyllic garden, and meet the Rider in charge of those holding their ground in this dangerous place.
...
All that said, the twist would have to be completely rewritten, huh...
This much is obvious already, but spoilers ahoy!
Where in this Singularity, Columbus seeks to create a nation of women to serve his every need, I think it’s much more interesting for the ultimate goal to be the creation of a “civilization of eternal happiness”. That is, a place where all people are gathered, and sacrificed to the Root for the sake of the ideal utopia.
That said, a person whose ideals don’t reflect either modern civilization or ancient cultures, but instead a person who, from the start, believes in a careful balance of both; and yet who has a strong, stirring belief in a utopic vision. The Servant who disappeared from Chaldea-- Madame Blavatsky, who hears and obeys the voices of Mahatma, clearer than ever with her closeness to the core of this world (the “untruth” bestowed by Scheherazade). She manipulates Rider using the “grail-like boxes” discovered in the Dragon Temple, while biding her time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to reveal herself. Meanwhile, the party recovers a weapon from Shangri-La, said to have been owned by King Solomon: the Singing Sword, a sword which would always grant victory if wielded for a good cause.
As expected, the battle against Helena, Rider, and Heracles is almost impossible, but somehow the Chaldea party manages to not only survive, but defeat the trio. Then there’s only Caster, Scheherazade, and her City in the Sky; I think this part is rather realistic, given the twisting of her personality with the “teaching” of the Demon Pillar, Phenex-- the one said to converse in rhymes, and who hopes to return to Heaven, but is deceived in this wish.
One who cannot die, and one who wishes not to die. Those who reject order and chaos, searching for perfect equilibrium-- stasis-- unchanging.
Scheherazade’s fear isn’t towards men, specifically, in this rewrite. It’s more towards brutality-- so she materializes those she sees as brutal: the torturers, the warriors, the scholar-kings, and the plunderers. Phenex, likewise, seeks to eliminate “ignorance” and “knowledge” to achieve equilibrium and stagnation, ultimately creating an unchanging utopia.
(”Ignorance”, the unknown and unthought (chaos); and “Knowledge”, the root of progress (order). Mystery is a ‘thought, but not confirmed’ spectrum between the two, and the realm of magic and magecraft.)
Bearing the Singing Sword, the party is able to counteract Phenex’s ability, and destroy him for good. Scheherazade, after talking with Ritsuka, makes the decision to choose her own ending: one where she, neither king nor servant, neither dead nor alive, can finally smile and laugh.
As Laputa disappears-- it’s time for this “story” to end.
#fgo spoilers obv#hc.#meta.#this took uh#three hours#i had fun#anyway this is my ritsuka's experience of this singularity#mostly just trying to make it less gross#i didn't rewrite like dialogue or anything but boy did it feel like i did
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The Drinkquisition AU (Part 4)
There, I didn’t want it to end in a cliffhanger, so i hurried to write the rest of the scene. Finally some things get to be a little clearer.
It all happened very quickly. Evandra ( @bulmavegotaku ) gripped a book and raised it slightly, obviously thinking of using it as a weapon, as Muse ( @amusewithaview ) moved towards where their actual weapons were placed, ready to grip her staff and test how well this magic would work under pressure.
Sirrah cursed under her breath, Scheißdreck, raising a palm to her horns, instantly very much reminded of the strange image they must present, with their mix of races. She had not considered so far how their merry band must seem to outsiders.
The second templar had his hand on the grip of his sword but was not drawing it. For a moment, he seemed to palm a wooden trinket dangling next to the sword. He did not speak.
Beatrice ( @beatrice-babe ) just stood and stared at them, obviously rattled by the situation. Hannah ( @lucide-dreamer-dreams ) moved to stand in front of the taller Noemi ( @uru-viel ) , seemingly ready to defend her with ... her bare hands, if need be.
Noemi wouldn’t have it, though. She pushed back, and raised a hand, angrily pointing at the guy with the sword. And yeah, he had a sword, but she had … magic, right? She’d zapped Hannah so much, surely she could do more if pissed. She tried to simply will something out of her hands, and when that didn’t happen, she shouted. “You identify yourself. We were here first.” She waved her hand around, magnifying the outrage. “You come into our house, and threatened our friend with murder!”
A tense silence followed her words, and to everyone’s absolute surprise, the templar with the sword out seemed … hesitant. “What?” he blurted out, voice shrill, looking towards his comrade. “That’s not … right?”
Muse decided to make use of the hesitation, and raised herself, jeweled end of her staff hidden behind her back but ready to swing it if needed. She eyed the rest of the weapons – quivers, bows, axes and staff - and used her her foot to slide the larger axe across to Sirrah.
This got them the attention of the templars again. Suddenly, the one who had remained silent made a step forward, one hand on the shoulder of the other one. “Did you just ask us our identity ... because we overstepped into a house of accommodation?” He spoke slowly, and with a considerably lower voice.
“I… what?” Noemi shook her head, in confusion.
“Is that a no?” The Templar repeated, just as calm as before.
“It is not!” Evandra spoke up, suddenly, making large strides across to where Hannah and Noemi where. Muse and Sirrah could see that her hands, crossed behind her back, one balled into a fist and the other still holding a book, knuckles white.
“So it is a yes? You claim this place as a place of accommodation?”
“But, Captain-“ the shrill-voiced templar spoke up again, clearly in protest.
“Silent, lad. Let them speak. You know the law.”
“Yes!” Evandra spoke, quickly. Law, that sounded good. This sounded like every piece of high fantasy she had ever read. “It is a place of accommodation. We mean no harm.”
There was a pause, and then the Templar who apparently was a Captain moved his hand from the shoulder of his companion to the other’s sword arm, and pushed the arm down, so the sword was no longer at the back of Beatrice’s head.
“If you speak true, this is a place of hospitality and safe lodgings for all travelers. We wish to claim your hospitality for a night.”
“But Captain!” The ‘lad’ protested once more. “This is not an inn! They are smugglers! We are…-“
“Trespassing. We are trespassing, lad. You heard what they said.”
“But you practically -!”
“No buts!” The Captain spoke louder, annoyance in his voice. “Do not overstep, Corporal.” He stressed the title. “I indulged you when you wanted to capture the ‘Smuggler Compatriots’ of the dwarf. Do my old eyes deceive me? Does this woman folk look like hardened criminals to you?”
A silence followed his voice, the Corporal was clearly displeased. He still held unto his sword. And after a moment, he tried again, voice more hesitant than before. “They could be. There are cow women among them, and one has an axe, and they are often –“
“Carta, Corporal Smyte. You accused the dwarf of being a member of the Carta. Did the Carta start employing elves, humans and qunari when I wasn’t looking?”
“But they could still be apostates or …”
“I will stop you there,” the older voice suddenly gained a hard edge. “I don’t know what they teach you younglings anymore, but I will not stand for it. Remember this, pup: Do not go around flinging accusations at every stranger you meet in these hostile times. You are still a representative of the Order, are you not?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Good.” And after a pause, he added. “Stand down.”
Another pause followed, stretched, before the Corporal sheathed his sword.
The Captain nodded, and after a moment, pulled off his helmet, revealing a face marked by age – grey hair, a full grey beard, and scars that looked healed over thrice. With a stern expression he looked towards the group, and then nodded, slowly. He eyed his companion, and the other one followed his suit hastily and also took off his helmet. A slim and pale face appeared, with a flimsy excuse of a red beard on his chin and angry red marks on it – a boy, a teenager, not a man. He was tall for his age, but certainly no older than fourteen or fifteen.
Pleased, the older man nodded, and then put his hand on Beatrice’s shoulder, who still had her hands raised. He gave her a slight push, when she turned her head to look up at him. “Return to your friends, lass.”
Beatrice stumbled at first, but then did as he told her, moving directly behind Noemi and next to Muse, who instinctively reached for her, gently pressing her shoulder.
The older Templar was looking them over closely, lingering on the set of horns, on Hannah’s ears, before his eyes settled on Evandra. “As per law of the road, we request wayfarers hospitality, food and drink for beast and man and rest and safety for the night. Do you offer it?”
Evandra met his eyes, raised her chin as if in defiance. “Yes. You are … welcome to stay. We will not harm you if you do not harm us.”
The serious expression on the old man’s face crumbled into an amused expression. “Good. We agree to your terms. And we apologize for intruding upon your rest. Don’t we, Corporal?”
“Yes, Captain,” the boy mumbled, as clearly sulking as any teenager would.
The old man shook his head slightly, eyeing the red-headed boy with some exasperation. His eyes settled on Beatrice. “Excuse the overeager pup.” When he looked the group over, his expression was soft, warm and deeply apologetic, this time. He could seem harmless, if not for the armor he was wearing and the many scars marring his face and throat. “The Forstback Mountains are not as exciting as he had hoped them to be when he got saddled with assisting me. Did you have a safe journey here?”
Beatrice nodded, hesitantly. “Mostly, yes.” And then there was a gleam in her eyes. “May we ask your names?”
“Ah, yes, where are my manners. I am Knight-Captain Bran Chisholm and this overeager young man is Knight-Corporal Edan Smyte. And my I ask – how did a dwarf of the warrior caste come to travel with a dalish, a city elf, two qunari and a human woman?”
Beatrice looked towards the rest of the group for help. Noemi piped up again, without a second’s thought. “Long story. Very long story.”
The old man smiled at the clear evasion. “Indeed. Since we gave you such a fright, would you be willing to break our fast with us, as a show of good faith?”
“Of course, Sir Templar,” Muse spoke up, slowly. “We have little to share, however, aside from a place next to the fire.” She had used the distraction and lowered her staff enough for it to remain hidden. She suspected that Templars could actually sense mages and she wasn’t sure if hiding their staffs would help.
But for now, the older Templar wasn’t very hostile and he had shut the ‘Apostate’-Idea down very quickly. So if there was a chance that maybe they could get through this without revealing herself and Noemi as mages, she’d have to try. Whatever time this was, a kosith mage and a human mage running around without supervision surely would not be welcomed by Templars. That hadn’t been a good thing in any of the games.
The old man smiled at her, not the least perturbed by her horns. “A qunari fluent in Trade. I have not met one of your kind in a long time. And here I find two. What an intriguing group you are. We would trade our supplies for this story,” he persisted.
The group exchanged looks. Evandra seemed worried, though one could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. Hannah seemed worried by Evandra’s worry, Noemi mostly seemed upset by the situation and ready to throw fists, if necessary, still glaring at the boy-templar, Beatrice was clearly still rattled by the encounter, Muse’s expression was guarded and almost unreadable and Sirrah was… elated. Before the others could say anything, she spoke up.
“Since my friend rightfully pointed out that we were here first, how about you start with your tale? We have likewise not had news of the current … erm, political situation in these parts in a while. In turn, we have formidable cheese to trade. You Fereldeners are fond of cheese, yes?”
“How do you know we are of Ferelden?” The teenage boy spoke up suddenly, mistrust clear in his voice.
“I guessed,” she spoke, pointing at a wooden trinket dangling off the older man’s hip, where his sword was. “I know your people are fond of dogs.”
The old man laughed, a deep below of a laugh. He waved towards the younger one to step forward. “Indeed! We gladly accept your terms. I was never able to resist good cheese. Though we of the Redcliff Circle are blessed with more of that than other people can claim.” He reached out and ruffled the teenager’s hair, to the boys visible horror. “The Corporal and I will go and see to our steeds and fetch the saddle bags. Go ahead Smyte, I will follow in a second.”
“But Sir! What if they …” a look from the Captain silenced Smyte. “Yes, Captain.” He turned on his heels, and left where he came from, putting his helmet on again. And just like a teenager in any part of the world, he stomped his feet angry, muttering to himself.
As soon as the boy was not within earshot anymore, Captain Chisholm exhaled deeply, exhaustedly. His gaze lingered on each of them, for a moment. As kind and old as he had seemed, it was clear from his expression that this man had commanded people simply by staring them down. He spoke, slowly, but with a stern tone. “I would like to make something clear, before I follow the Corporal. The pup is a bit stupid, and not yet fully initiated, so he may not have sensed it so far, but I am aware that there are mages among you.”
Muse cursed, and the air around her seemed to cool down drastically as she reached for the staff on her back. Noemi, immediately raised her fists and it cackled around her. As if in response, the man raised one hand, and a gust of … energy pushed through the room. “Rest assured that I have no intention of claiming you as prisoners. Had this been my plan, I would not have ordered the pup to give up your lady dwarf here.”
He shook his head when Muse didn’t relax her stand the slightest. “Let me offer you this much: I have a sister who fled the Circle and it cost her life. I understand you, you have nothing to fear from me, at least.” He did not wait for any form of acknowledgement or reaction. Instead, he continued. “You have no reason to believe me, of course. But I promise that no blood has to be shed here.” And with that, he turned to follow the Corporal.
As soon as he closed the door behind him Muse exhaled, and Sirrah moved to hug Beatrice tightly.
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, finally!” Evandra pumped her fist in the air, then she grabbed Hannah’s hands and danced around her for a moment, before catching herself and laughing slightly embarrassed.
“What are you so excited about?” Noemi asked, obviously thrown by the surprising reaction. There were exactly zero happy thoughts in her head right now. They were not dead, yet. But this was not exactly a happy breakfast scenario.
“Didn’t you hear him? He said Divine Justinia.”
“So?”
“Oh, right, shit. Sorry. She’s sort of the pope and she dies in Inquisition. That’s a name we can work with – we have to be pre-Inquisition.”
Sirrah nodded, then grimaced. “But she’s old when … she dies, in Inquisition. I bet she was Divine Justinia way before Origins. That still leaves a human life span of time. ”
“Before we get stuck on timelines again – what the fuck?” Beatrice spoke up, her voice tired and absolutely less cheerful than she had been the past twenty-four hours. “Can someone please explain to me what Templars are first and why they were ready to kill me on sight? And what the warrior cast is? And exactly how screwed we are by these two guys being here?”
Muse had busied herself, wrapping her staff and Noemi’s staff in one of the drapes, and hiding them in their make-shift pile of a bed. At Beatrice’s questions, she looked up again, and grimaced.
“Yes, we should probably get some things out of the way quickly.” She inhaled deeply, as if bracing herself, and he pointed at Noemi. “One – no magic. Mages are not free to go where they want in Thedas, so we are sort of criminals, wandering about. There are no mages here, or we end up dead.”
“What? Rude, much!” Noemi huffed, but Muse continued without a pause.
She added her middle finger, and pointed at Beatrice. “Two – dwarfs with your tattoos usually live underground and belong to a warrior cast. IF they are on the surface, that means they got kicked out and often that means they’re criminals. We’re gonna have to come up with a backstory for you, but for now you were born in Orzamar if he asks and then just-.. don’t elaborate. Leaving Orzamar is a very private matter, so that would work.”
Beatrice nodded, gave Muse the thumbs up. “Orzamar. Right.”
Evandra stepped in seamlessly, holding up three fingers, pointing at herself. “Yes, three, I am a dalish elf, I usually live in a forest. We’re going with my Clan is dead for now, I think.”
Muse nodded. “How about we go with a dead clan from the Free Marches, since they say they were from Redcliff.” Then she looked at Hannah, pointing at her. “Four – you are a city elf, that is why you have no marks. Let’s say you were from Kirkwall, because I know the details about that city and can fill you in and again – good chance he won’t know about it.”
She pointed with all five fingers at Sirrah, who raised her hand as in reply, and waved, jokingly. “Five? We’re also from around there? Kosith traders?”
Muse nodded, then shook her head. “ I thought Mercenaries and … “ she grimaced. “Tal-Vashoth, maybe. Sounds like the safest option around a Templar for now. Lest they make this about religion. Also, we don’t know if the Qunari are stranded there yet, but if we’re lucky he won’t know about it if it didn’t happen. And if it did, there is a reasonable chance for us to have been there. Also means we have less questions about the qun to answer.”
“Okay, Mercenaries. Would work for me as well, I suppose, and for Beatrice.” Evandra pushed her heands through her hair, clearly stressed now. “So… how about ... Noemi is a noble woman, and Hannah is her … hand-maiden? And we are hired to bring her… somewhere?”
Sirrah shrugged. “ I mean, we know for a fact that some nobles like to keep their mage children hidden. That could convince the older guy, too. That’s why it would also make sense if we are adamant not to give up the location we are bringing her to.”
“Eh, sure. How noble are we talking though? I don’t think he will buy that I am a princess, though,” Noemi snorted.
“Oh, you’ll be fine,” Hannah reached out and patted Noemi’s cheek. “You just have to be a brat, that’s how rich kids often are. I have faith in your abilities.”
Noemi swatted her hand away and instead reached out to pull at Hannah’s pointy ear. “That’s no way for a slave to speak to her master.”
“Servant and mistress,” Evandra corrected. “They’re not officially called slaves. Though honestly treated no better. And I think Lady will do fine. We’ll come up with a last name later.”
“Lady Noemi. I like it,” Noemi nodded, doing a dramatic flip of her hair.
Muse shook her head, looking over their group for a moment. “Somehow this feels like we are in a Con Artist Movie now.”
“Remember the mission in Origins, when the companions have to break the warden out of the jail?” Sirrah asked, laughing.
“Oh yes. Just like that. Only that our lives might depend on it this time,” Muse chuckled, half-heartedly.
The joke sobered them up enough for silence to stretch out between them, for a moment. “And I have to show you guys something later,” Muse spoke up once more. With some hesitation, she pulled out the balled up parchment from her pocket, offering it up in her palm. “I found this earlier and I think it could mean we are in trouble. That we maybe can’t stay here for very long.”
“What? Why?” Hannah demanded, disappointment clear in her voice.
Muse shook her head. “It will take some time to explain. It is best if we wait until they sleep or leave, because…-“
“Shhh,” Evandra suddenly shushed them, turning her head towards the door. “I think they’re on their way back.”
And sure enough, after another moment the steps of the metal armor on the stairs was audible. Also two voices, clearly in a heated conversation.
“Okay. Let’s do this,” Noemi spoke up nodding at the rest of them. “Let’s Ocean 8 these motherfuckers.”
Only a moment later the door was pushed open again. The Templars emerged, the younger one carrying saddle bags and what they recognized to be the cheese from the kitchen, and the older carrying another bag and … bottles. He raised them, with a smile. “Let’s break fast, ladies. We are excited to hear your tales. Aren’t we, Corporal Smyte.”
“Yes, we are, Captain,” the young boy muttered, rolling his eyes. And added, half muttering. “I still don’t see why you need wine for this, in the morning.”
“It is noon in Antiva already, my boy. It is always noon in Antiva,” The old man added, before he sat himself down, on the floor, looking up at them, expectantly.
“So. Please begin.”
#the drinkquisition au#dragon age#a little less conversation a little more action#but only very little more action#let's see if we can keep up this charade long enough to figure out when we are#so how about it guys?#wanna fight?#wanna flee?#wanna con your way through this?#tell me :D
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3 OC Songs Meme
I was tagged by @storyknitter , thank you! (If anyone else tagged me, let me know, my notifications aren’t showing up for tags at the moment, for whatever reason.) I have so much trouble with these because there are so many songs I could pick, haha.
Tagging: @andveryginger , @keldae , @elveny , @lumielles , @storyknitter (If you wanted to do it for others...) And anyone who wants to have a go.
For this one I think we’ll do Corey Black: The most universal version of him, which is closest to RPverse/DMverse. I could probably do this a dozen times, and still not exhaust the list, I have to say.
Descriptions/lyrics are under the cut.
If You Could See Me Now - The Fray
Rag ‘n’ Bone Man - Human
I Belong to You (+Mon Coeur S’Ouvre a Ta Voix)
If You Could See Me Now
After Corey lost his mother as a child, he found relations with his father strained. The man took to drink - something that Corey didn’t understand at the time, as he spent years of his childhood caring for his dad. Now he wonders what would happen if he lost Lana, and he understands. He wants to tell his father this, but he was lost when Zakuul attacked. He sees the ghosts of the people he’s lost wherever he goes, and the part of him that still maintains a childish innocence hopes his parents would be proud of him.
Mom, Dad I'm just missing you now
I still look for your face in the crowd
Oh if you could see me now
(Oh if you could see me now)
Would you stand in disgrace or take a bow
Oh if you could see me now
(Oh if you could see me now)
Oh, oh
Would you call me a saint or a sinner?
Would you love me a loser or winner?
Oh, oh
When I see my face in the mirror
We look so alike that it makes me shiver
I still look for your face in the crowd
Oh if you could see me now
(Oh if you could see me now)
Would you stand in disgrace or take a bow
Oh if you could see me now
(Oh if you could see me now)
Yeah I'm just missing you now
Human
Corey is... an extremely capable individual. Closest I have to being Canon Outlander, and when I write fic that requires one of my characters to be so, it’s usually him. He’s worked hard on both sides of a galactic war, ultimately serving the interests of his own people (The Mandalorians) before any other side in the war.
Because of his abilities, he often finds himself in situations that he shouldn’t be walking away from in the completion of his mission. Despite defying the odds more than once, he takes responsibility for every death, every failure under his command, and when he does lose, the consequences are severe. Because of his abilities, people -including himself- expect success, and often failure comes as a reminder to him that he’s human, something that he carries with him every day. Beneath a layer of confidence that’s been hard fought for, he knows that he’s just as fallible as anyone else.
Take a look in the mirror
And what do you see
Do you see it clearer
Or are you deceived
In what you believe
'Cause I'm only human after all
You're only human after all
Don't put the blame on me
Don't put your blame on me
Some people got the real problems
Some people out of luck
Some people think I can solve them
Lord heavens above
I'm only human after all
I'm only human after all
Don't put the blame on me
Don't put the blame on me
Don't ask my opinion
Don't ask me to lie
Then beg for forgiveness
For making you cry
Making you cry
'Cause I'm only human after all
I'm only human after all
Don't put your blame on me
Don't put the blame on me
Oh, some people got the real problems
Some people out of luck
Some people think I can solve them
Lord heavens above
I'm only human after all
I'm only human after all
Don't put the blame on me
Don't put the blame on me
I'm only human
I make mistakes
I'm only human
That's all it takes
To put the blame on me
Don't put the blame on me
I Belong to You (+Mon Coeur S’Ouvre a Ta Voix)
This one goes more into Canon/DMverse, though whatever iteration of him is written, he tends to be very loyal to the people that he loves. In this case, Lana Beniko. He’d never encountered someone quite like her before, and he found himself drawn to work with her, to spend time with her. They didn’t speak of their feelings for some time, and Corey wasn’t able to admit to himself that he loved her, because the people he loved tended to die. He’d been working with her on a mission, in a story that I really need to finish writing, and she’d allowed herself to be captured by her target to get close to their organization. In typical Lana fashion, she felt it was best that his reaction was realistic, so she didn’t tell him beforehand. He fought his way to her, they got into a massive fight, and it all spilled out.
How much pain has quaked your soul?
How much love would make you whole?
You're my guiding lightning strike
I can't find the words to say
They're overdue
I've traveled half the world to say
I belong to you
And she attacks me like a Leo
When my heart is split like Rio
And I assure you my debts are real
I can't find the words to say
When I'm confused
I traveled half the world to say
You are my muse
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𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒: Share five songs / pieces of music that represent your muse!
Tagged by @angeldustedwebofhearts
Tagging: Steal it.
1. “A Stranger I Remain”-Logan Mader & Jamie Christopherson
I've come here from nowhere
Across the unforgiving sea
Drifting further and further
It's all becoming clear to me
But violent winds are upon us and I can't sleep
Internal temperatures rising and all the voices won't recede
I've finally found what I was looking for
A place where I can be without remose
Because I am a stranger who has found an even stranger war
I've finally found what I was looking for
2. “Bullets”-Archive
Come touch me like I’m an ordinary man,
have a look in my eyes,
underneath my skin there is a violence,
it's got a gun in it's hand,
ready to make
ready to make, read'
ready to make sense of anyone, anything
anyone, anything
anyone, anything
anyone, anything
anyone, anything
Black holes living in the side of your face,
razor wire spinning around your
around your
around your
around your
around your
around your
around your (blistering sky)
around your (blistering sky)
around your (blistering sky)
bullets are the beauty of the blistering sky
bullets are the beauty and I don’t know why
bullets are the beauty of the blistering sky
bullets are the beauty and I don’t know why
personal responsibility
personal responsibility
personal responsibility
personal responsibility
3. “Human”-Rag’n’Bone Man
Maybe I'm foolish
Maybe I'm blind
Thinking I can see through this
And see what's behind
Got no way to prove it
So maybe I'm blind
But I'm only human after all
I'm only human after all
Don't put your blame on me
Don't put your blame on me
Take a look in the mirror
And what do you see
Do you see it clearer
Or are you deceived
In what you believe
'Cause I'm only human after all
You're only human after all
Don't put the blame on me
4. “Hurt”-Johnny Cash (originally by Nine Inch Nails)
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way
5. “Land of Confusion”-Genesis
This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we're given
Use them and let's start trying
To make it a place worth living in
(Bit of a departure from a running theme with those songs, I know).
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Congratulations RY! You have been accepted as Jacob Newton. Please go through the checklist and send in your account within 24 hours. If you need more time, make sure you send a message to the main.
There’s always such a thrill when it comes to hunters in a supernatural-themed roleplay, and when one of the hunters we wrote that is “the worst” – depending on how you’re viewing it – you can say we both got excited over this. It’s clear that you’ve had more than enough experience to show that a character like Jacob is a simple walk in the park for you, but the way you describe how you’ll execute the character, it was spot on. Jacob is a hunter, plan and simple. He doesn’t just kill the good ones, doesn’t give them a trial period to see if he truly wants to take the supernatural out, no. He’s strategic in his actions and the course you have set for him is exactly how we imagined his would be. It’s always fun to see the dramatic irony between it, knowing what Jacob is there to do and the other characters not knowing. All I can say is that I’m glad we found a person who will conduct such an intense symphony and that it’s you we’re choosing to do so. Welcome to Elysium!!
OOC INFO
Name: Ry
Age: 23
Timezone: EST
Preferred Pronouns: He/Him
Previous RP Experience: [RFP]
Activity Level: Tricky question. I work night shifts most days and on the weekends, I’m gonna be pretty much nonexistent. Seriously, Imma be a ghost and that’s speaking honestly which is why I understand if you wouldn’t accept me based on that alone. It’s summertime so that means I work till at least 2 every night and since I gotta have a bite to eat and then wind down, I’m usually up till at least 4 just getting myself ready to pass out for the night. Because I knock out so late, I’m usually asleep till it’s time for me to get up again and get ready for work so I can do the whole thing over again. So yeah, ghost on the weekends but I usually got two days off and if I’m not distracted by the newest game I’ve spent my hard earned bucks on and I got the muse, I’ll likely be on trying to get some posts out. I’ll also have time to reply either early in the morning before work or after work during the weekdays since I don’t get off too late during those times for my head to just be complete shit.
Anything Else: I wrote this while I was very tired. Don’t judge, pls?
IC INFO
Character Name: Jacob Newton
Why did you choose this character:
Yet another tricky question for me. I wrote so many different answers for this question that you’d think I was trying to write an entrance letter to my dream college or something but honest to god, can’t really give you a straight answer to this one. When I play hunter’s they’re stoic, sadistic, assholes whose mind is only set on gutting and killing however many supernatural creatures they can get their hands on. When not playing as a hunter in a supernatural RP, my characters are pretty much still the same. Drain, hack, and basically dismember whomever gets in your way and not give a fuck about any such thing as consequences for one’s actions. That one thing my character’s usually all have in common in RPs like these? They’re all pretty much serial killers and they all in some way or another play the role as the antagonists. I like playing as the villain, I like playing as the guy that basically comes in and is like ‘I’m here strictly to ruin your fun’. That’s my type of character and I guess that’s the reason I’m finding muse for Jacob. He’s not in any way, shape or form the main antagonist but he is part of the problem. Here’s a hunter whose sole purpose in life is to rid the world of supernatural creatures and rather than do it as most others would by stabbing at the front, he’s instead actually employing a sort of tactic that would effectively allow him to stab these people in the back. I love the hell out of that. He’s here to deceive these people, and if I’m allowed to be the writer I get to work at finding a way for my character to gain their trust just so he can pull that off. In making Jacob such a way, I get to actually plot with others and have it go further than just ‘well… he kinda sorta hates your character and would you like to do something where he attacks them?’ Plots for Jacob can go beyond that cause we can talk about ways in which my character can in time earn yours trusts or even if it’s possible to do so in the first place. Pretty damn sure I’m explaining it all wrong but basically, I like the character and for some odd reason he’s interesting enough for me to want to take a crack at him. He falls into the type of character I typically play but with a little more depth to him and with a different enough take on how he gets shit done for me to see myself really enjoying plying as him if chosen. Can’t give you a better or clearer answer than that.
Describe your plan for them:
Step one for Jacob? Expand on his connections while also reinforcing the ones he currently has. The whole point of the wolf in sheep clothing’s thing is to gain people’s trust so that when he’s ready to go for the kill, his victim count isn’t in the single digits but are instead in the double, even triple digits. He wants to eradicate races and you don’t do that by being hasty so step one is making connections. I want to connect with people and most of all, I want him to connect with the right people. Merlot? Prime vampire spot I would love for him to eventually find out about. Kyle? The cousin to the girl he’s currently dating? I’d love for him to at least be given the chance to try and earn the wolf’s trust. I want him talking to people and making connections cause that’s the only way for my character to succeed in his plan and I want to go along with the plan the admins created for Jacob. I love the plan! It’s the reason I’m trying for him so obviously I love it. Him getting out there and building a relationship with people is the only way I’ll ever be able to get to step two and I want to get to step two cause it’s my favorite. Step two is obviously the betrayal. I want that. Seriously, I want it. I want to have built up relationships that we as the players fucking adore. Relationships that make us look forward to coming on the dash everyday and I want to destroy that cause my character no matter what, is gonna betray them. It’s in his nature and it’s all an act. I know for sure I’m going to love the hell out of the relationships and friendships I may manage to build for Jacob while he’s pretending but it will eventually break and when it does, I’m gonna love the hell out of playing that out too. I want to go through the plan you have for the dude, I want to make my own plans along the way that play along with the kind of role you created for him. I don’t got exact details but I know step one and step two and that’s a start.
Describe your character’s feelings and reactions to the initial reveal of the supernatural world:
When the supernatural reveal happened, I can basically see Jacob having this ‘oh shit’ moment. Something that was supposed to be a secret, something all of them knew was supposed to be kept a damn secret was revealed to the world in the most spectacular of ways. So yeah, initial reaction for him would be one of shock and confusion. Why would the hunter do such a thing? What could have possessed him to do it? Was this in some way shape, or form a ploy by the supernatural? Were they controlling the hunter? He would ask himself all these questions, do the research, and figure out just what the hell was going on and if it was all real of not and what was to happen from then on. Once he got all the answers he needed though, I think he’d mostly just find the whole thing amusing. When he had a moment to think about it, truly think about it and dwell on it, he’d see that being exposed wasn’t such a bad thing. Exposing the secret didn’t harm him or his kind. Despite them having a hand in it there wasn’t about to be a blow back to the hunter community. In fact, the more he dwelled on it, I’m sure he came to the rightful conclusion that letting the public know that monsters were real would only help his people. They lived in the dark, never able to take credit for their work and always having to take caution in just how they got the job done. With things coming to light? They no longer had to hide. His people could legitimize hunters, allow others to know the heroes who worked diligently to protect them day in and day out. While he himself wasn’t so much looking for a pat on the back for doing the job, he would believe them going legit would make the job easier. While he himself saw every monster as just that, a beast that needed to be put down, the average joe saw the mask they put up. They saw Tom who worked in accounting, or Sue who served them drinks and had a funny little joke to share with them come time for brunch. Letting real people know these supposed ‘people’ were in fact just rabid animals in disguise could mean he’d no longer have to work so hard in order to kill ‘em and hide their body. Eradicating them would be easier. Completely destroying them would no longer just be a pipe dream for him and his people. So yeah, shocked and confused at first by the reveal but in a short time, he’d see it as a blessing.
Describe your character’s feelings and reactions to the current state of the world, and how it impacts them as an individual:
The world’s fucked and Jacob is rightfully furious about the state of the world. One can assume that for centuries hunters have had to sacrifice their loved ones for the job. They put their lives at risk for it with a single minded goal only to be told that, now that it’s out in the open, the government is willing to give these monsters a clean slate. The mountains upon mountain of blood on their hands? We’ll forget it happened. Register, abolish your ways, follow the rules and anyone who rightfully kills you like the beast you are is going to be in trouble for it. It’s like a stab in the back for Jacob. The smart, nasty ones who know there are those out there who would gladly put a bullet to the brain upon first glance are always the quick ones to get registered. Can’t have a hunter taking you out like a dog in the street if you’re registered. Can’t be shot down like the beast you are if you’re registered. It makes the job harder for him. It’s easier in some ways cause he can be more open about things but the registration act and these so called rights they’re giving them, not only leaves a bad taste in his mouth but just makes him all the more furious. He doesn’t think it’s right and with those he doesn’t have to pretend with, he makes it known just how backwards he thinks the whole damn thing is. The only right a monster should have is the right so a slow and painful death. That’s it.
Para Sample:
They were just lies. When you were younger they were the things you’d receive a swift slap to the hand for. It was the one thing your parents hated more than anything else. The one thing they warned you against doing because they knew as everyone seems to come to understand at some point that lies are bad. Never lie to us. Never lie to me. No matter where you came from, no matter what sort of background you hailed from, it was something most had in common. It was a cardinal rule, if you wanted to be trusted and you wanted people to actually give a damn about you, you didn’t lie. No one likes a liar. No one trusts a liar. Lying, short of assault was that one thing that that could automatically mean the end of whatever friendship or relationship you’d put whatever effort into. Hell, even if you weren’t dropped for telling a lie, you’d certainly never be trusted again. Once a liar, always a liar.
Your parents taught you the rule, your teachers taught it too. It was universal. You don’t fucking lie and yet, despite hearing it time and time again, that was exactly what he was doing cause for him, it was just lies. It was a means to an end. Breaking someone’s trust? Losing the relationship he’d put months into? They weren’t things he cared about. All he cared about, all he could afford to care about was perpetuating the lie and getting what he wanted – no. It wasn’t a want. It was more than that. Calling it a want was underselling it cause it was so much more to him. It was a need. Getting what he wanted was his burning desire. It was his dream. It was for this dream that he was willing to sacrifice whomever he needed. It was for this dream of his that he planned to do exactly that. It would pay off in the end and these lies of his, that ones that were so easy for him to keep track of cause he had gotten so good at knowing them, the lies that easily fell from his lips would pay off in the end. He was sure of it. So sure of it that with each passing day, he allowed himself to dig even deeper. Allowed himself to be buried that much more. Expand his circle, expand the lies.
“No, no, I’m listening,” There’s a pause, a break in his defense as he listens to his girlfriend argue with him. “I’m listening! It’s not my fault if you think I’m not.” Chuckling softly as he attempts to push his point across, to anyone who glanced at the male he’d simply look and certainly sound like a young man clearly in love having a good natured argument with his girlfriend. It’s the type of scene people who’ve experience love would simply shake their head at while their lips curled up into the tiniest of smiles as they reminisced over their own love and similar conversations they’ve had with their significant others. It was cute. It was endearing. It looked exactly as it needed to look and for Jacob that was perfect. Playing up his role as the loving boyfriend all while he did as he needed, all while he furthered his little plan and used the woman whose heart he didn't need to guess at to know he had, it all feel into place so perfectly. “Wanna make a bet?” Eyes trained on the bespectacled monster sitting but two chairs down from him, drawing a rough sketch of the beast in the book laid out before him as he spoke, he continued. “Come on. If you’re so sure I wasn’t listening then bet me. If I win, you…” drawling out the word with a suggestive lilt, those his voice held all the traits of an amused man, in reality he was anything but. How was he to be amused? How was he to be happy and amused when he had a bastard of a beast sitting just inches from him sipping from a latte as if he hadn’t a care in the world? It was enough to make his blood burn.
“Ah, ah, ah! No, no, no. It doesn't work like that. You gotta take the bet in order to hear the conditions.” Connecting the last line for his image, though snapping pictures was the ideal way of identifying and remembering his various targets, when forced to get up and close with them in such a manner, sometimes he just had to resort to the basics. Vampires weren’t the vest as recognizing basic technology but they certainly knew enough to know when someone was snapping a picture of them. If he wanted to continue to lie the next day, the better option was to draw and remain inconspicuous. “Nope! Too late. Hey, babe?” Pausing in order to place his sketch in his bag, having done all he could and needed to do for the day in regards to watching the individual and having his fill of being around animals, he rose to his feet. “What do you say about catching a movie?” He asked, throwing the question her way as he exited the building. “Yeah, well, I mean I finished my coffee, you’re obviously not doing anything so we should do something. Come on! What do you say?”
Any questions/concerns/things you’d like to change: (siblings to add, pronouns, sexuality you’d like to specify, personality, face claim, history, etc., etc.)
Nope!
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