#(FEI IS SUMMONING THE BROTHERS) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

everlastingdreams · 11 months ago

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The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In The Dawn Chapter 23

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Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?

Chapter Title: The Wrath Of The Gods

Notes: /

Warnings: !Grief!. !Violence!. Torture. !Sexual Assault!. !Rape Threat!. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +190K

Chapter: 23/ It’s a secret.

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Lancelot fell over on his side. Your body caved in at the sight of it happening, “No! Please, no!!!”

The Hidden’s enraged voices took over all sound.

You fought to get to him before it was too late to save him with your magic, the Brothers used their combined strength to keep you on the floor.

They forced you to watch him suffer, blood streamed out of his chest fast and began to pool under him.

The many times you had screamed out his name were countless, it was like being in a haze.

It took longer for Lancelot to die than the others, and by the time it was over you sat defeated and drained on the cold tile floor. Your vision was blurred completely by the tears.

This was the Reaper’s way of motivating.

Soran was saying something, you heard not a word of what it was.

Your eyes did not move away from the Ash Man, your friend, that had met a cruel end.

Only when the Reaper knelt down in front of you did you hear, “Bring him back.”

You spat in his face in response.

Soran held back his anger and rose to his feet. “Unhand her.”

The Brothers let go off you immediately at his command.

Soran coldly said, “Change his fate. Or will you leave him to rot?”

With the shock going through your body, you did not trust your legs. You crawled to Lancelot, your knees were in the blood when you got to his side. “Lancelot…”

The leaf pattern that had risen to the surface of his neck, no longer looked green, they looked withered like leaves who had abandoned their tree long ago. A sob cruelly forced it’s why out of you at the sight of it, you couldn’t stop them from flowing out of you anymore, the agony had taken hold on your body in the worst way.

Soran had left the knife where it was, a cruel act.

You could not heal a person when a weapon was still in their heart, the Reaper must have known this.

It forced you to remove the knife from Lancelot’s heart, and doing so was the most awful thing.

The knife fell from your hands, you didn’t want to touch it ever again.

“I am so sorry.” You sobbed and touched his cheek.

It was testing the Reaper’s patience it seemed. “Stop wasting time!”

You felt physically ill, it did not stop you from cupping Lancelot’s face and quietly begging the Hidden for help. “Please… hear my plea… give me your strength.” The green glow overtook your eyes, “And I will be your summoner.”

The Hidden’s power surged through your veins at the offer and it felt almost too strong to bear.

This magic felt wrong, like the Old Gods themselves gave it to you with great reluctance.

Still, you selfishly took it from them. If they decide to punish you for it, so be it.

Your head began to hurt, and as the pain increased blood came from your nose.

Your vision blurred until all you saw was green and all you heard were the Hidden.

The Old Gods had accepted you as their summoner and took control, proving how powerful they could be.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~

The cold that enveloped you in the cell had you jolt back into consciousness.

Inside the cell it was dark and it only added to your disorientation. You tried to get up and your legs gave up immediately.

Gods… you were tired.

It felt like you had been trampled over by a horse. You crawled to the bars and held on to one. What had happened after you had lost control to the Hidden? Had they made you do the impossible? One thing was for certain, it had drained you.

An attempt to call out Lancelot’s name failed miserably, your voice was both too weak and too strained, his name changed into air instead of a word because of it.

Your throat hurt and your trousers were covered in blood. His blood…

They had left a meal for you, the soup was still warm. The grief made it difficult to swallow a sip of soup to fix your sore throat.

You drank some, no longer caring if it contained poison, you needed to catch your strength and the warm soup helped your throat.

When you called out for Lancelot, louder this time, you waited for a reply.

The wait lasted and you had never felt so alone. You put the soup down and knocked it over on purpose.

It was as if your body had shut down, there was no hunger or thirst anymore. There was no point to drinking soup to fix your throat if there was no one there to hear your call, at least no one that you cared about.

The Ash Man’s death was numbing.

The only feeling truly registering was of the cold iron bars against the side of your face.

You had not even heard them enter the dungeon and only noticed them when the group of Brothers stood outside your cell.

“She’s finally awake. Soran will be pleased.” These bastards sounded happy to find you alive. Even though they had left you in a cold dark cell unconscious.

The cell door was opened, and you were still too weak to get up off the floor.

It took two of them to tie your wrists and drag you out of the dungeon whilst the others helped.

They weren’t taking you to the dinning hall, it took too long and the route was different.

They opened the door to a bedchamber, the carpet flooring was softer to sit on when they left you there and locked the door. They didn’t even bother to help you sit on the bed, you sat on the floor, looking at it.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when the Reaper walked into the room, your mind was elsewhere.

He spoke his usual madness. “We control the balance of life and death.”

Your thoughts slowly returned to you, “What?”

Soran kept a small distance. “The Weeping Monk is alive.”

Your eyes snapped to him, it didn’t feel real, was he even telling the truth?

Your question was sharp, “Where is he?”

He was deliberately vague. “We are keeping him somewhere else right now to see how well your magic has worked.”

You tried to get up from the floor and managed to do so by using one of the bed posts as support. “I want to see him!”

Soran had not expected the news to fuel you so. “I was right to believe in the legend of the Dawn Folk.”

You hated that he had been right. “This is wrong!”

He stepped closer, hand close to a knife on his belt, “Did you consider it wrong when you brought the Monk back from the dead? No. You are willing to defy the odds if it serves your purpose, just like I am.”

How dared he compare himself to you?!

You were tired of his blatant attempts to try and get you to join his cause. “I will not damn my people for you! The Hidden gave me the power to save a Fey. They make it no secret that they are the gods of the Fey and not of Manbloods. This sort of magic is against the rules of nature itself!”

Soran knew how weak you were after such use of your powers, he took the opportunity to get physically closer. “ In a few decades, a new Brotherhood will be born of the Dawn Folk. Half-bloods, but your legacy will spread and bring victory to the Church. My warrior blood, mixed with yours.”

It was the final insult to your clan, for them to become what had caused their erasure. He would turn them into murderous monsters, they would be able to heal and bring each other back from the dead, an enemy to be feared. Even one Dawn Folk child would be enough to heal the Brothers for years to come and ensure that the Brotherhood grows in power.

He continued to try and act like this was normal. To try and… charm you? Did he truly think you could ever fall in love with him??

He tried to caress your cheek and you quickly moved away, using the bed as support.

You tried to get that idea of of his head before it lead to trouble. “The Church will never accept Feys as allies!”

Soran was unwavering in his belief. “You saw how Father Carden used his Weeping Monk, his name is feared among the Fey. Not even the Holy Father will disapprove when the Dawn Folk rises to bring us glory. The Brotherhood will be undefeatable, Dawn Folk will heal their brethren.”

The danger he posed to you was evident.

You fed him doubt, “What if I can’t carry children? Have you ever thought of that in your ‘great’ plan?!”

He did not care for the torment it would put you through, his eyes were on the goal. “We will try. Your gods are no strangers to using their powers to assure the Fey are surviving. And I know the secret to children of the Dawn Folk. A full moon.”

It was a long kept secret among your people that all Dawn Folk children were conceived on a night with a full moon, that was the key. If the Reaper knew, it meant one of the Dawn Folk must have told him.

Soran had not a glimmer of real compassion in his eyes. “Think of my offer. You could become the most powerful woman in the lands at my side.”

He was truly delusional.

Finally you got back some strength in your legs and used the bedpost as support to try and take some steps away. “The only thing I would become is a monster!”

You noticed how he kept his hand close to the belt that held the knives across his chest.

He tried to reason, “In time you would be seen as a saint. Your children will save many.”

“Many bastards of your Brotherhood!” You snarled.

There was a change in his eyes.

Your instincts kicked in and with the little strength in your legs, you bolted to the door and actually reached it.

But the Reaper’s reflexes were fast, he pushed it shut before you could open it enough and trapped you between his body and the door.

Panicked, you hit him with your elbow and tried to turn around.

He shoved you with your front against the door, and even now he acted like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. “Shhh… do not fight.”

You wished he wouldn’t feel you tremble, but he was too close not to.

Soran seemingly believed you could be persuaded. “I intend to keep you alive, to offer you an existence outside of locked doors, something the Church will not offer you. All I ask is that you surrender yourself to me.”

It was obvious what he wanted, he had made that very clear these past few days.

And you weren’t willing to have this bastard anywhere near you, let alone carrying his children and letting him have your body to use.

You struggled against his hold. “Go to hell!”

He gave a sneer, “Only the Fey are headed there.”

You gave your own back, “I will do one thing for the Dawn Folk. I will survive you.”

Some of his anger slipped out, he took hold of the back of your head and slammed your temple against the door. Hard.

Right afterwards, while tears began to brim in the corners of your eyes, he acted like it was your fault.

“Stop making me take these measures.” He warned and began to move your vest up.

The panic truly settled in when he touched your lower back and the waistband of your trousers.

No. No. No…

You used the strength of your wrists bound together to try and push back to no avail. “Get off of me!”

He coldly dismissed the protest. “It will not take long, stop struggling.”

It only made you struggle more and than a knife was near your eye.

The bastard threatened, “Remember, I do not need all of you. You do not need your eyes to use your magic or have children.”

Oh, you dearly wished that the knife was in your hands instead, you wouldn’t be threatening…

By trying to hold back tears, you wanted him to know that he wouldn’t break you. Not when his hand groped your chest and not when he tried to take off your trousers.

The fury that flared up inside of you was the thing that kept you from shattering.

He did not care when you began to quietly ask your gods to give you their strength.

Maybe he should have cared.

The voices of the Hidden filled the air and Soran all of a sudden stumbled backwards and away from you.

Their aggressive intervention came with the whisper of your title.

~“Summoner.”~

“What are you doing?!” He regained his footing fast but it was clear that he was in pain.

Was that… panic you saw in his eyes?

You had no idea what was happening or what the Hidden had done.

“Brothers!” He called out, the panic audible in his tone.

Two of them entered the room at his call, quite baffled to see their leader half-buckled over in pain.

“Soran-” One tried to speak.

Fury burned in the Reaper. “Take her back to her cell! Now!”

You heard the Reaper curse as they dragged you out of that room again.

The Hidden had kept their promise to you as a summoner. The ancient power of Festa and Moreii was their gift to your acceptance. And what better use for it than making the Reaper regret all he had done to you.

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Hours passed in the cell again, and you were yet to see if it was true that Lancelot was alive. Where were they keeping him? Was there another part to the dungeon you had not seen yet? Or was it a lie the Reaper had told to pacify you?

You still felt his hands on your skin, and in the darkness of the cell you could let the tears flow.

Your shocked state, huddled up in the corner, did not alarm the Brothers who passed.

“They say our leader’s steel is damaged.” One whispered.

Steel?… Oh.

“Do you think… she did it?” The other wondered.

They looked in the direction of your cell with great suspicion.

Good. Let them fear.

The bastards were cruel enough to take the torch that provided little light and moved it to a holder on a wall further away.

Their footsteps rescinded and you heard them close the iron door that led to the stairs.

It was both frightening and comforting to be in the darkness alone. At least they left you alone there.

You leaned your head against the wall, hiding far at the end in a corner of the cell.

Another hour passed, then a Brother came over with a stale looking piece of bread.

“Got you something to eat, Fey.” He put it down on the floor, putting his arm between the bars to do so.

When you gave no response and didn’t even look, the Brother whistled.

His pathetic attempt at comforting could not hide the threat under it. “Come now. It will only get worse for you if you behave like this, Soran can do a lot worse than what he wants to do with you. Give him what he wants.”

You didn’t want to waste the little energy left in you on this bastard and continued to ignore his existence.

The Brother sighed. “Can’t say I didn’t warn ya. All you had to do was open your legs.”

It really made it hard to hold your tongue and not call him every horrible name you could think off.

Your eyes never left that strange dirty spot on the wall.

You heard him take a couple of steps away and past the cell, and then a loud thud, it made you jump a little

You looked and saw the Brother face down on the ground.

The steel of a blade had cut across his neck and send the Brother to the floor whilst he bled out rapidly.

The next thing you registered was a sword sinking down into his back and withdrawing from it.

You had not moved a muscle, like your body was frozen in place.

It was strange to know that you knew who stood in the shadows outside your cell just by the way he walked and moved.

The door of your cell was unlocked seconds later. Your mind was slow to process it all and slowly you rose to stand.

Lancelot stood in the doorway, like something had stopped him.

Even in the dark he could see enough of your face to know that you had been crying. Your eyes were haunting.

He spoke your name, gentle and with relief.

You couldn’t believe the miracle that stood before you.

This was the second time the Ash Man had opened the door to freedom for you, this time you were actually glad to see his face.

And only the heavens knew how it gave you a surge of energy strong enough to cross the small distance and breach the line that had once been.

You reached for his aketon and latched yourself onto him, feeling the warmth of his body and considering it a blessing after having it felt cold and lifeless.

Tears ran their path down your cheeks and unto his clothing. There were things you wished to say, but you couldn’t get a word out.

Never before had he felt arms hold him like this, another being willing to blend into him.

After the cold hold of death he had experienced, the warm hold of life was more than welcome.

The Ash Man’s response was delayed by only seconds, then his arms came around and brought you in closer.

No one had ever held you like this before, in an embrace that felt like it could protect you against the ocean’s strongest wave within a storm, with your head cradled in his hand while he vowed that you would have your freedom again.

You weren’t afraid to hold him tight, murmuring into his shoulder. “The Hidden brought you back to us.”

Lancelot couldn’t stop stroking the back of your head with his fingers. “You brought me back.”

It was your voice he remembered pleading for his life.

He explained how he freed himself, “That hairpin was useful indeed.”

With great reluctance you broke away and took the smallest step back, he took the moment to cut the ropes from your wrists.

You noticed the second sword at his side, “Found those?”

He handed it to you. “One for you. I ‘found’ keys as well.”

He found it all on the one that had been guarding the door to the cell they had kept him in. He could only try to pick the lock when the Brother guarding his cell was asleep. The man was snoring like a boar seconds before he died.

Next thing you knew, Lancelot was steering your chin to the side as his eyes focused on your face, “Did he do that?”

He could see the discoloring on your temple.

It took you a second to realize he must be seeing a bruise from when Soran had slammed your head against the door. “He…”

Your throat tightened like a cord had wrapped around it.

He feared the worst, hot white rage boiled in his veins, “What else did he do?”

“Nothing.” You didn’t know why you lied, maybe because it felt humiliating.

By steering your chin again, he made you look at him as he searched your eyes.

It was that that made you try to tell the truth. “He tried to… but the Hidden helped me.”

You didn’t need to say more, he understood what it had meant.

He cupped your neck, the burning fury carried his vow, “I am going to kill him.”

For now, all you wanted was to leave this place behind. “No. We need to get out of here.”

It was like his mind sprung into action seconds before he did. He took hold of your arm. “Stay close to me.”

You let him lead you out of the cell, it was easy to tell that he had some idea as to where he was going. “Where did they-”

He quickly hushed you before it would alert the enemy.

As you followed him, you had to step over the bodies of the Brothers that had crossed his path whilst he had made his way to your cell.

He plucked a torch from the wall and used it to set fire to the wooden pillars you passed.

“What are you doing?!” You whispered.

Lancelot continued to strategically set them alight. “Burning this fort will force them out and offer distraction.”

He steered you along, and away from the fire.

The keys he had taken from one of them were put to use on a door that lead into a narrow pathway, he locked it behind you. He wasn’t guiding you out of the dungeon the way the Brothers had been doing so.

The pathway ended with another door and opened to a dungeon where many rodents had their home.

It looked far worse than the one you had been kept in.

He shared a look, and while passing a cell he pointed to the dead Brother he had left inside of it.

They had kept him there…

You gave a look that told him you understood.

A vague sound came from the direction you had come from, then a loud bang was heard. They were trying to break through the doors that had been locked to keep the flames behind you.

“They know.” Lancelot said and urged you to follow.

He walked faster and led you to a narrow stairwell. You followed him up the steps, sensing he no longer knew where to head now.

He searched through the keys to find the one that would open the gate at the top of the steps and let the two of you out of the dungeon. He was visibly stressed.

You touched his arm, hoping it would calm him somewhat.

Lancelot took a deep breath and focused on the keys, finally finding the right one that unlocked the gate.

It was impossible to ignore how many times he had touched your arm now, as if he constantly feared that you would disappear from his side.

Oh, how things had changed. Once you had hated this, now if felt quite nice.

Past the gate it was a completely different world to be in. The fort was warmer than the dungeon below, but it was also swarming with members of the Brotherhood and you knew that any loud sound could cost you your freedom again or worse.

He wanted to turn to a hallway on the right but you stopped him, that one lead to the large stairs that they had dragged you up to bring you to that bedchamber.

You could see him take a deep breath through his nose.

If he could smell a breeze that would lead him the way to an exit…

Lancelot tilted his head, deciding to take the route ahead instead.

The urge to run out of there was strong, but it would make too much sound. The only thing you could do was walk faster than usual. A door was opened in the distance, Lancelot quickly opened one nearby and upon finding the room empty he moved you with him inside of it.

It was pitch dark inside, the only shimmer of light came from the torchlight passing under the door.

The both of you stood against it and listened.

A group didn’t walk by, they ran by. They must be on their way to the dungeons to find you and help their Brothers.

Lancelot waited a few seconds longer, than opened the door again.

The plan was to continue the path ahead, but there were so many voices coming from there that you pulled him into the direction you had come from.

He took the torches off the wall and set the large curtains in the hallway alight.

You pulled a curtain down and draped it on the floor across the width of the hallway, “Put the torch to it, it will give us time.”

Smart.

He set fire to the curtain on the floor, and then followed your lead.

You remembered a little from the path to that bedchamber, there had been two other stairwells, one that led up and one that led down.

The size of the stairs took up the width of the entire hallway. Such a big fort must have multiple exists, there had to be.

Once up the higher floor, you hurried to the stairwells that were right next to each other.

You were about to begin descending the ones leading down, when you heard voices coming from below.

Lancelot shared a look with you, you were already rushing over to the curtains and pulling one down while he took a torch again.

You let some of the curtain drape over the first few steps, than he put to torch to it.

The castle was already starting to smell of smoke, the old wooden floor would not survive for long.

Lancelot took you by the hand and pulled you up the stairwell that went a floor higher again. “I can smell the sea.”

That meant you were close to getting out of there…

At the top of the stairwell was a heavy wooden door and you could hear the sea at the other side of it.

None of the keys he had on hand worked and the two of you ended up having to use your swords to get the door to budge, then Lancelot put his shoulder against the door a couple of times and broke it down.

Heavy wind and rain almost pushed the door shut in your face again, luckily the Ash Man anticipated it and kept it open. He let you step outside first and you couldn’t care less that the rain was enough to soak through your clothes in minutes.

The rain mixed with the dried blood on Lancelot’s aketon and cloak. The moonlight was the only thing offering light, the sea around you would have appeared as a black abyss otherwise. You were at the top of the castle’s keep, fear had no place in you anymore when hearing the sound of the sea around you and the wind going through your clothes.

Fire was breaking through the windows in multiple places throughout the castle and it was spreading with aggression. For a moment you wondered if the flames were somehow connected to the one who had created them. If the Hidden made your healing magic stronger, who was to say that they did not make their summoner of the Ash Folk stronger as well?

Lancelot stood not far from you, his eyes fixed on the flames down below.

You faintly heard the Hidden, and deep down you knew that the flames were not just born from fire, but from fury as well.

While you were looking around to reach the alure of the castle walls, the heavy door Lancelot had shut behind him was kicked open.

The Reaper had managed to avoid the flames that had begun to fill the hallway where his bedchamber was located, by fleeing for his life he had chosen the same route you had taken.

The sword was already in Soran’s hand, still he seemed surprised to see you and Lancelot there.

Immediately, Lancelot stepped in front of you.

This bastard would have to crawl over his corpse before he would ever get to lay a hand on you again.

The Reaper watched the flames destroy his Brotherhood, then looked at the one responsible for it. “If Father Carden had seen this, he would have given the order for your execution himself.”

Lancelot fought back the response it caused in him and spoke to you over his shoulder, “Go. I’ll distract him.”

You weren’t going to leave his side again, especially not when he was facing the Reaper in battle. “No.”

There was a sword in your hand, you weren’t running from this.

Soran offered a chance to the Ash Man, “Hand her over and I will see past this.”

Lancelot scoffed, a wry smile formed. “I will not.”

The coldness in the Ash Man’s tone put ice to shame.

Soran took some steps closer. “I only offer, because I know how she will suffer once I kill you. Permanently, this time.”

Even now, he was trying to blackmail others into submission, while his fort was burning to the ground and none of his Brothers were there to aid him. The confidence the Reaper displayed worried you, he showed no fear.

Soran got closer, warning you of what it meant to fight him, “I have trained the strongest of men, the Trinity Guard’s skill is no match for the Brotherhood and neither is yours, Brother.”

“I am not your ‘Brother’!” Lancelot’s tone was sharp.

The Reaper spun the sword in his hand. “You’re right. You betrayed us and now you will suffer the consequences of it.”

Lancelot did not let Soran get closer and faced the inevitable battle head on.

You knew he was doing it to try and keep Soran at a distance from you. The Ash Man was walking to the blade to protect you from the monster that wielded it…

Lancelot was the first to lunge and saw Soran move skillfully to avoid the blade.

The Reaper was not the sort to fight fair, the knives he carried on him weren’t there for decoration, he drew one and tried to cut Lancelot’s arm with it.

It was anticipated by the Ash Man, he had seen him reach for it and punched Soran in the jaw after avoiding the knife.

He had to duck to avoid Soran’s sword cutting off his head, the bastard did manage to land a kick against his stomach that send him stumbling back.

You attacked the Reaper, aiming to disarm him.

Soran blocked your sword with his, but you took him off-guard by striking him across the face with your fist.

He hooked his sword with yours, forcing you closer and then he moved his elbow in a quick motion, it struck your jaw and nose.

Only a few ‘things’ of you were necessary to him, others could be damaged… he had been truthful about that.

That blow to the face landed you on the ground, leaving you disoriented for a moment.

Liquid ran over your lips and you realized blood was running down from your nose.

The fight was still going on and you pushed yourself to your feet, feeling some vertigo hit as you did.

Soran was trying to get Lancelot closer to the edge of the keep, undoubtedly to make him fall. He attacked Lancelot, using the sword as a distraction to aim the knife for the heart of the Ash Man again.

Lancelot was strong enough to grab Soran’s arm to prevent it, but the Reaper took solace with sinking the knife into his shoulder instead.

He gave Soran a push, who left the knife lodged where it was.

You saw Lancelot pull the knife out of his shoulder. The knife was worse enough, but you saw where he was standing.

You ran up to the Reaper, sensing what he was about to do.

That rotten filth had lunged at Lancelot with the sword, Lancelot blocked it with ease, but he could not defend himself against the second kick he got from the Reaper.

He lost his footing and stumbled backwards. As a last effort to save himself from falling down to the rocks below, Lancelot held on to the edge of the keep with his hands.

Dangling from the wall, he had little chance to pull himself up again, Soran was quick to go and step on his hand so it would let go.

You charged at Soran and slammed your body into his side to knock him over, when he hit the ground you reached for Lancelot’s arm to help.

You had only took hold of his arm for a few seconds when you were ripped away from him by the Reaper who pulled you away from the edge.

He clearly didn’t want to risk you falling to your death. “Stay away from the edge, you are still needed.”

You elbowed him in the side and broke free, only to be grabbed by him again.

He held on while you struggled against him. “I will let you watch how the Weeping Monk shatters his skull on the rocks below!”

The Reaper was determined in not letting you escape from his sight and steered you with him to where Lancelot was hanging on for dear life.

And then Soran saw that the Ash Man was no longer hanging on to the edge.

Soran had made the mistake of turning his back on Lancelot, his priority should have been with him, not you.

You knew that there wasn’t enough time for you to pull Lancelot to safety, but what you could do was touch his arm and heal his injuries, making him strong enough again to save himself.

Then all that need to be done was distract the Reaper to buy him time. To move in Soran’s grasp so he would not be facing the edge.

Soran must have thought Lancelot had fallen, because it took him three counts before the truth of the matter set in and he realized he had been tricked.

Lancelot’s sword came down on Soran’s arm, and severed his lower arm from his elbow.

It fell to the ground at your feet and you instantly felt the hold on you disappear.

You broke free and created a distance.

The sight of the severed arm did shake your stomach a bit.

Without a sword, and horribly wounded, Soran was powerless when Lancelot stabbed him through the heart.

Lancelot twisted the blade and then withdrew it.

The blood mixed with the rain and it made for a gruesome sight.

Soran fell down next to his arm, and his dying breaths told you that he was choking on his own blood.

The silence that soon followed felt strange. You never thought you would be looking down at the Reaper’s corpse one day.

Lancelot stopped in front of you and wrapped a hand around your upper arm, then he moved closer, “Are you hurt?”

You could only shake your head, to lost for words by what had transpired.

Something on the ground reflected in the moonlight.

Soran’s ring…

“That ring… if we show it to the Fey…” You offered him the idea.

With the ring, they would be more inclined to believe him when he would tell them he had killed the Reaper.

Lancelot went over to retrieve the ring from the severed arm, while focusing his thoughts on something else and not on the fact that he was stealing from the dead.

He pocketed the ring and came back to you. “We need to go.”

You agreed with him on that and together you made your way over to the alure of the castle walls in search of a safe way down to ground. From the direction you were heading into, shouts were heard. You shared a look with Lancelot, knowing that the way back only led to fire.

He knew what had do be done to survive, “We have to jump.”

It was a long fall down into the sea and you weren’t keen on that plan at all, “Are you bloody mad?!”

Lancelot sheathed his sword, took you by the arm and steered you to the edge of the wall in between the battlements. “We jump or we die.”

Even his own faith in the plan seemed to falter for a blink when looking down at the sea that was only illuminated by the full moon.

The voices sounded closer, this had to be done.

“Dammit…” You cursed and sheathed your sword too. “You first?”

Lancelot managed to grin. “You lead, I follow.”

Oh, so now he had no problem with someone else taking charge.

“You’d better.” You warned and stepped to the edge.

It took a lot of your courage to make the jump into the depths below.

The fall went faster than you had anticipated and you hit the water, you swam to the surface right away.

Just as you reached the surface, the Ash Man hit the water on your right.

It were a couple of worrisome seconds until he came above the water as well.

Together you swam to shore and were grateful that the sea was calm compared to the rain and wind.

You crawled unto the sand, tired from the healing and the swim.

Even Lancelot struggled to get to his feet, when he did he looked back and saw the castle burning like the sun in the night sky.

You looked as well, seeing the flames claim all of the fort without mercy.

A deep sigh of relief left you, and for a moment all you focused on was the water moving around your body whilst laying in the sand.

A castle burning in the midst of night was sure to draw attention.

There was no time to rest. Some of the Brotherhood would escape the flames.

Lancelot held out a hand for you to take. “We have to leave this place. Others will see the flames from afar.”

You sighed and let him help you up, vertigo set in again and you had to lean into his side to keep yourself steady.

He did not complain, your magic had been what saved him, “Can you still walk?”

“Depends on how far we are talking about.” You admitted, “Did they take Goliath when they took you?”

He shook his head. “I send him away before they could try to take him too.”

In other words, you had no horse.

Lancelot didn’t let the newfound hope escape. “There have to be horses nearby. They brought us here on wagons…”

“Use your nose?” You made the suggestion.

He deadpanned. “Hard to smell anything besides the ashes in the air.”

Still, he tried to inhale deep and slow a couple of times.

After coughing the scent of smoke out of his lungs, he said, “I can smell a stable.”

“You can smell the wood and horses?” You frowned while letting him help you walk.

An actual chuckle fell from him, light as air, “I can smell the manure, and now with the rain the scent is strong.”

Gods, and you had even asked him to smell it…

The small laugh escaping you felt wonderful. “Lovely.”

His chuckling increased until he composed himself. He helped you walk over the rocks that had washed ashore over time. All of a sudden he stopped you and turned you to look at him, before you could question it, he made you tilt your head backwards to inspect the damage to your nose.

“I wish I could heal you.” He stated and let go, something akin of remorse was in his eyes.

You wouldn’t hear it, he had done more than enough. “I will live. Don’t you worry about me, Ash Man.”

It was one of the few things he could not do.

The sound of horses neighing reached your ears, they must have noticed the fire too. Lancelot helped you walk towards the sound until the vertigo you felt lessened. The sight of the burning fort against the dark sky and between the rain and wind was imposing.

You found the stables at the beginning of the stone pathway that had led to the fort. A wagon with horse stood outside of it and you left Lancelot’s side to go to the poor animal waiting for it’s rider alone.

Lancelot walked by and went into the stables. “Call out if you see or hear anything.”

You gave a nod, and saw how the horse was clearly glad to see someone.

He had left the door of the stables open, a few horses suddenly darted out and headed for the woods. You looked and saw that there were still other horses inside of the stables and that the Ash Man was cutting their reins loose. He was freeing them. Once he was done, Lancelot came out of the stables and joined you by the wagon.

This wagon equipped with a bonnet would be very useful, especially in this weather.

“We are taking the wagon?” You guessed his plan.

He gave a nod, “I’ll ride.” And steered you to the back of the wagon. “Up you go. Careful.”

You almost envied how energetic he was from the healing he had received from you twice, because you barely managed to get yourself up on the wagon, it took two attempts.

On the second attempt, he offered his shoulder for you to use and supported your elbow with one hand while using his other to make sure you didn’t fall.

And that was where it got him into trouble…

His hand was on your back until you were halfway up the wagon. And his attention had been on getting you safely onto the wagon, not on where his hand landed next.

When you felt it touch your rear, you were on that wagon in a blink.

The last thing he wanted was to make you think it was on purpose, that he would use the situation to…

He quickly began to apologize, “Forgive me, I did not mean to-”

You stopped him. “I know.”

The experience with the Reaper was still fresh on your mind, and you could not hide the look in your eyes from the Ash Man. Your mind had went back to the moment, and it took you a few seconds to feel Lancelot’s eyes on your face.

Not a word was shared when you looked at him, he knew…

With some reluctance, he stepped away from the back of the wagon and headed to the front.

You saw him climb up into the seat and take the reins, “Have you ever rode a wagon before?”

No…

“Do not worry.” He eased your mind while trying to sound confident.

He would do the worrying on his own.

Luckily, some of the wagon’s bonnet covered him from the rain as well.

And by the answer, you knew it would be an interesting ride.

Taglist:

@ourlazydetectivekitten @the-great-adventures-of-me @linkpk88 @fxrchxldws @elenaoftheturks @slytherlight @beananacake @crystallizedtime @moonlightaura03 @angrygardendeer @have-aheart @5am-cigarette @arcanenature @thewinterskywalker @notyourwildestdream @coloursforyourportrait @koressecretidentity @nike90 @n1ghtlux @rachlovesactors @luckyzipperscissorsbat @morena-doing-stuff @the-fangirl-diaries @gipsydanger17 @heavenly1927 @phantasmalbeiing @labyrinthonmymind @asarcastic-thiamstan @rainyv-skies @kissingandromeda @stclairesplace @katjusja @isla-bell-blog @beebeerockknot

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story.

#the weeping monk #lancelot #weeping monk #cursed netflix #weeping monk x reader #cursed #lancelot x reader #weeping monk x you #cursed lancelot #the weeping monk x reader #daniel sharman character #daniel sharman

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letters-from-dekarios · 6 months ago

Note

(A letter arrives by way of a Quickling, a tiny fey creature commonly used as messengers in the Feywild)

My darling husband, my guiding wind, first in my heart,

If you ever leave me to deal with my family alone again I will lock you out of your library for a month!

I understand midterms at the academy are nearly upon us but I am certain your assistant could manage long enough for you to join me at this reunion so that I am not left to suffer my mother's attentions alone.

Speaking of, I have included the recipe you wished to ask from her, and I will bring some of the more exotic ingredients home with me when I return.

Further, your absence has utterly devastated Mallory, who has been demanding her "Uncle Gale" no less than 6 times a day. How utterly cruel of you. She has very much wanted to show you her new magic trick, which I assure you is very adorable. No spiders involved this time.

To say nothing of how deeply I miss you, my love. I shall be returning soon, while it has been good to catch up with my brothers and feel the magic of my birthplace, none compares to the magic of our home together.

All my love, Bel'tan'e

P.S., Callista said you asked her for Dawnsea flowers, did you need spell-grade or food-grade petals?

(Bel'tan'e (he/they) is a spring Eladrin druid, born and raised in the Feywild, and currently married to one Professor Dekarios. They have a large family of relatively high status in the Spring Seelie Court, though Bel'tan'e himself is 3rd born and has little influence of their own (not that they want it). The couple regularly travels to the Feywild to see Bel'tan'e's family, who were quite shocked he returned with a human husband after only a few months away from home, but they grew to love Gale eventually, even if he is very odd and human-like)

(did I do this right? First time submission 🫣)

My love, Bel,

Sweetness, you know how much I adore your odd but ever caring family. I wouldn’t miss the journey for the world. Or, perhaps, a good box of chocolates. Kidding! I swear. I am mourning the loss of my visitation with you, thinking of the extravagant time I could be having while instead, I am pouring over my papers.

I do beg of you to not lock me out of my library. I simply would not be able to fare! I may pass away even at the mere thought.

Alas, I truly wish I could be with you. Though, I hope my words bring you comfort and warmth as if I were there beside you. They will have to do, for now. And while I do trust my assistant very much so, these are things one must handle on their own. This time of year at the academy is far from easy, it is best I oversee the work so as to avoid any mistakes. Nonetheless, I do deeply wish to be with you, don’t forget that.

Send my warmest, deepest affection to your mother back. That kindly woman deserves only the best and I will have something soon to show her my thanks, I promise. The same goes for Mallory and all the little ones calling for me. I do owe them a night within the Weave’s embrace once we can journey there together. No doubt that should suffice as an apology for missing this visit. Do tell little Mallory how proud I am of her. Thank the heavens she’s getting better with that, I nearly died the last time she summoned a spider. I still get shivers even thinking about it.

I have found myself rambling! I must save these words for when you return, otherwise this letter may become too thick to send back. Know that I love you deeply, and cannot wait for your return home. I shall have my best apologies lined up for you since you’ve had to endure such joyous fellowship alone.

Forever yours,

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔

text reads: gale dekarios

literally shut up. ‘uncle gale’???? im sobbing and losing my mind over this. i can literally see gale showing up for the first time to meet their family and just ‘hello! i’m gale!’ Exactly how he says it when you first meet him in act 1. and then all the nephews and nieces hanging onto his arms and asking him about being a human and then him showing them the weave… i need to write dad gale now cause this is TOO cute. also you did perfect im obsessed if you can’t tell ~kore

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nacrelysis · 1 year ago

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lol if jiuge and chu wanning are both carved from divine wood...don't think about how huaizui said himself that jiuge was tied to chu wanning's own blood. don't think about the implications that chu wanning's experiences are felt by jiuge too.

don't think about how jiuge could feel chu wanning's golden core shattering during his battle with taxian-jun, the physical and mental torture eating away at his consciousness the longer he endured as chu-fei. don't think about jiuge watching chu wanning fall into more and more despair as he tears himself apart for a fragment of clue as to how to save mo ran.

don't think about how jiuge, made of pure divine wood, found itself feeling hatred at the way taxian-jun has abused its owner - a feeling that should be foreign, yet for the man made in all but the same flesh and blood, the person closest to what a brother could be to itself, jiuge learns to despise.

don't think about how jiuge must have felt chu wanning expend the last dregs of his life force to summon it for the final time in 0.5. don't think about how jiuge, being divine wood, might have had sentience - don't think about how it could have begged chu wanning to stop because it knew how it would end. don't think about how jiuge, tied to chu wanning's soul, could feel it slipping out of its grasp during the siege on taxue palace.

don't think about how jiuge felt chu wanning die while playing it for the final time. don't think about how jiuge watched taxian-jun berate, then break down, then finally bury chu wanning in the past lifetime.

how it must have hated taxian-jun for all he did - but, being akin to chu wanning, how jiuge must have hated itself more, for not being able to save the person closest to it.

#erha #erha he ta de bai mao shizun #二哈和他的白猫师尊 #2ha #erha analysis #jiuge #chu wanning #九歌 #楚晚宁 #the husky and his white cat shizun #erha fic #mini?#erha headcanon #2ha headcanons #lmao suffer w me #erha spoilers #2ha spoilers #man fuck hua binan

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gravesung · 3 months ago

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quick and dirty bios for the unseen's inner circle (the sanctum)!

bc i just remembered sage and fletch are the only unseen creatures i actually have bios for.

*note — by default, these descriptions apply to the unseen as they are in shelter island. some details are subject to change based on verse. *note 2 — each member of the sanctum has a self-chosen tarot card that's left behind as a "calling card" at a particular job they claim responsibility for. in place of a stolen bounty, on top of a body, etc.

acheron ??? (he/him) — the poisoner

the emperor

dilf

calm, collected, honest but in a kind way. pretty emotionally intelligent.

as a rule, never pries into other people's business. lane = stayed in.

has a son who's in college rn! on good terms with his ex-wife.

ex-safecracker/bank robber

he makes poisons! has a little lab and everything

occasionally fletch will pull him out of retirement and make him go crack a safe. he complains about his knees

norah suman (she/her) — the engineer

the sun

lesbiab

has had a secret crush on seph for a couple years. designed her arms from the ground up, and the first point of contact when something goes wrong or seph needs a redesign/upgrade

dry humor, very blunt and often sarcastic

eyebrow piercing

habit of chopping off her hair when she's sad

makes the gadgets. makes explosives, modifies weapons, invents new shit, always thinking about new ways to do stuff. engineering as an art and a science at the same time.

also an up-and-coming tattoo artist!

orion aisa (he/they) — the forger

the moon

seph's twin brother

not a great fighter, hates using guns

eyepatch over his right eye. fletch took it when he and seph tried to escape as teenagers, along with ripping seph's arms off, which is a very normal and cool and chill reaction to have

trans lad. top surgery, took testosterone for a few years but then stopped. pretty satisfied with where he's at right now

excellent painter

suffers from hand tremors, though they fade when he paints

hector dionísio (he/him) — the muscle

the wheel of fortune

unpredictable and violent. unhinged.

will be having a drink with you and then at a hair-trigger provocation, he'll just turn around and start kicking the shit out of someone

scarily good fighter, way too fast for his muscular build

no one knows why fletch trusts him to be in the inner circle and not rat on them

unexpectedly very reliable as a teammate. he does his job very well

fixated on seph in a "constantly riling her so that she'll fight him whenever he wants" way

fixated on edith in a "why can't i land a hit on you. come here" way

pit fighter. so far undefeated

cody shimura (he/him) — the accountant

justice

the most guy ever

he's so tired.

retired hedge fund manager, went into crime because he did some digging, realized the finance industry was already in fletch's pocket anyway, and his ability to stealthily uncover those secrets impressed fletch enough to hire him on.

tries to be a plant dad but he keeps killing them

surprisingly well-trained with a gun

occasionally pulls out the most scathing one-liners in the quietest and calmest voice imaginable

sage / VECTOR (she/her) — the driver

the world

technomancer (arcane hacker)

pokemon superfan

harvard dropout

a pretty normal person, generally, probably the least traumatized out of the crew

can summon cars / motorcycles made of, essentially, compressed/hardened demon souls sourced straight from hell

also has normal, non-summonable cars / motorcycles that she likes to augment and fix up with norah's help

has a giant fluffy dog named Baby

fucking Maniac behind the wheel. the dog's name is a reference to baby driver for a reason.

if she knew about @tewwor's vector alias, she would make them matching shirts

edith winter (she/they) — the thief

the hermit

sneaky. quiet. wow shocker

fey changeling who's lived on earth their whole life, but is in contact with the human child they replaced

raised by wolves a gang, sort of collectively alongside her parents. it takes a village yaknow. they all had a hand in training her to be the insanely skilled thief she is — edith was probably the most valuable piece on their board, even at a young age

said gang was absorbed by the unseen and scattered across the world for resisting said absorption. one of edith's parents was killed in the conflict, the other was sent across the world but she doesn't know where

no one knows if they're bitter about it or not. they don't talk about it

acheron taught her how to crack safes

caro vitale / deadfall (he/him) — the fence

the hanged man

owner of the black stag, a bar and antique shop just at the northern edge of the city where metropolis meets highway meets forest.

can sell anything to anyone

no one knows a single thing about this man except for the fact that he's fluent in italian. he WILL lie if you ask him anything else. caro vitale is also not his real name

he got that thang on him (a club)

tattoos everywhere

ishal king (they/them) — the doctor

death

fae nephilim (an angel fucked an archfey and produced a very strange kid), exiled from the autumn court for death crimes before going into the human medical field as a surgeon.

nearly got arrested for experimenting with nephilim blood (their own, but whatever guys), faked their death, joined the unseen. now works happily and privately for fletch in their silly little lab.

mushroom garden

medicinal plant expert alongside their knowledge of modern medicine

ominous positivity

anah tannar (she/her) — the spy

the lovers, reversed

you know her! you love her! she's probably broken your heart!

local celebrity influencer

resident honeypot for any woman-attracted target

prefers to be flashy and stand out, but also insanely good at blending in and being invisible when need be

serial dater. never lets anyone too close, but loves to have a web of one-way connections to people who think they're her best friend or favorite ex, and/or owe her a favor (she has a book of debts)

a genuinely compassionate person underneath it all, she just leaned hard into her manipulative side after being used one too many times

persephone aisa (they/she) — the assassin

judgement

first lieutenant/right hand to amari fletch, and thus second-in-command to the unseen itself

sharpshooter, beat-upper, gunfighter, knife-swinger. if john wick can do it, so can they

cold, aggressive, hostile. deadly as fuck. if you follow this blog you probably came from hers so i won't go into too much detail SJDKHJKSD

amari fletch (they/he) — the leader

the tower (also the name they're publicly known by)

i swear they're not secretly thousands of years old i swearrrrr (yes they are) (they cheated death in a game of dice and bear the mark of cain for it)

think gus fring, netflix wilson fisk, silco — that type of person

spidery motherfucker, aka has connections eeeeverywhere. so many judges, cops, government officials in their pocket.

for the most part, fletch is satisfied with the world the way that it is. the unseen profits nicely, they have as much power as they need, and no one fucks with them (if they even know it exists)

if someone does fuck with him and his, however, he will not hesitate to make a violent and chaotic example of them for the rest of the world to see.

calm and levelheaded 99% of the time. 1% of the time, off-the-wall destructive

will take risks if they can see a benefit and the consequence of failure won't fuck up their plans.

extremely powerful in a fight (is not human) with enough raw strength to fully charge straight through a building wall by wall if they wanted to. but they don't. lmao

seph is their protegé (????) (i genuinely don't have a term for their relationship it's so fucked up and hard to describe), & they are very very possessive about it

#muse drop.#fletch meta.#unseen meta.#the sanctum meta.#sage meta.#acheron meta.#anah meta.#etc etc

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mattnben-bennmatt · 4 months ago

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Matt Damon (& Co.)'s interview w/ GQ (18 July 2016)

The Encyclopedia of Matt Damon

As Matt Damon returns to the Bourne franchise, we decided to assemble this handy guide to the habits, quirks, and inner life of an honest-to-God screen legend, as told by George Clooney, Martin Scorsese, Ben Affleck, and the other titans who know him best

By The Editors of GQ | Photography by Sebastian Kim | Illustration by Joe Mckendry

Matt Damon is, scientifically, the most liked man in Hollywood. He is serious, and he is funny. He is approachable-seeming and often jacked. He has been in six of your ten favorite movies in the past 20 years, and he's met a bunch of people along the way who like him a whole lot. But for all his familiarity, he's still elusive (which is how he likes it). So instead of asking Matt Damon dumb questions about the new Jason Bourne movie (out this month!), we got Damon and those people who like him a lot*—George Clooney, Julia Roberts, Tina Fey, Ben Affleck, Martin Scorsese, and Co.—to tell all the stories about him that you haven't heard.

Accent, Boston

Matt Damon: I was sitting at George Clooney's pool in Lake Como, and Brad Pitt walked in, sat down next to me, and said, “Do you want to do a Martin Scorsese movie in Boston?” [Brad] was a producer on The Departed, and he felt like he had gotten too old for those roles. It's one of the most absurd things that's ever happened in my life.

[Marty] said to me early on [in production], “I don't know Boston. This is your town.” So I would show up with stuff that I'd write and give it to Bill [Monahan, the screenwriter]. and say, "Do you like any of this?" The first time I rehearsed with Jack Nicholson, he went over to get some coffee, and he turned around [and said], “You know, I never would have made it this long if I wasn’t a great fucking writer.”

Martin Scorsese (director, ‘The Departed’): He comes from Boston; he's familiar with that world. When we were cutting The Departed, my editor, Thelma Schoonmaker, used a term to describe Matt's presence on-screen that's stayed with me: He's seated as an actor. He enters a movie grounded and at ease in his character and in the world of the story.

Bill Simmons (Bostonian; host, ‘Any Given Wednesday’): [Jimmy Kimmel] had this Super Bowl party, and Damon was there. He was like, “I'm readin' ya book! It's fahckin' ahsome.” [Matt's Good Will Hunting accent] is the greatest Boston accent that's ever been captured in a movie by an actual actor. The Departed is a catastrophe of bad Boston accents. Leo just gives up halfway through.

Sarah Silverman (co-star, “I'm Fucking Matt Damon”): We are all Boston-area people. I don't know how Matt talks so pretty.

Artist, The

Julia Stiles (co-star, ‘Bourne’ films): After The Bourne Ultimatum came out, there was a premiere in London. Prince actually came to it, then got tickets for the cast to come see him [perform]. We were summoned into a room to meet him [after the show]. Matt said, “So you live in Minnesota? I hear you live in Minnesota.”

Damon: Prince said, “I live inside my own heart, Matt Damon.”

Career Precedent

Damon: I always thought the goal was William Holden. To just be in a lot of good movies.

Harvey Weinstein (producer, ‘Good Will Hunting,’ ‘Dogma,’ ‘All the Pretty Horses,’ ‘The Talented Mr. Ripley,’ ‘Rounders,’ ‘Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back,’ ‘Project Greenlight,’ ‘The Brothers Grimm’): Matt Damon is the closest thing we have to James Stewart. Matt can be funny, Matt can be charming, but there's an idealism in Matt, like Mr. Smith Goes to Washington or It's a Wonderful Life. But Jimmy Stewart also did those very tough Westerns. He wasn't Bourne, but you get the idea he flew 40 missions over Germany as an Air Force commander. [He's] that kind of great man with tremendous integrity.

Michael Douglas (co-star, ‘Behind the Candelabra’): [Matt] reminds me of me a lot, in terms of the kind of range of parts and things that he does. He always looks to what's the best script, what's going to make the best movie, and what isn't. He has a real sense of what it takes to make a good movie. Having the best part in a bad movie doesn't help you.

Face, Matt's

Scarlett Johansson (co-star, ‘We Bought a Zoo’): The most amazing gift about Matt's physical appearance is that he can walk into the hair-and-makeup trailer looking like someone who slept directly on his face for seven hours and emerge a bona fide movie star. He has a great makeup artist.

George Clooney (co-star, ‘Ocean’s Eleven,’ ‘Twelve,’ and ‘Thirteen’; director, ‘Syriana,’ ‘Confessions of a Dangerous Mind,’ ‘The Monuments Men’): He looks swell in a Speedo.

Face, Pitt's

Damon: I don't look like Marlon Brando. I remember Ben and I having a realization early on. Like, we were watching Brad [Pitt] in a movie, and one of us turned to the other and said, “I haven't heard a thing that guy said in five minutes. I'm just looking at him.” And we realized there's a good and a bad [that comes with that]. It'll mask one of your lesser performances, but it also detracts from your best performances. Because Brad has been legitimately brilliant in some of the things he's done, and he doesn't get the credit as an actor that I think he deserves. I never had to carry that water.

Friend, Best

Tina Fey (creator, ‘30 Rock’): People would be like, “[Matt and Ben] are so cute!” And I'd be like, “They're J.Crew sweaters. When you see all the colors next to each other, they look cute, but when you get one home, you're like, ‘Damn, I just got an orange sweater.’ ” But now that is withdrawn. In person, Matt holds up.

Damon: Ben is the orange sweater.

Ben Affleck (co-writer, ‘Good Will Hunting’; best friend): The quality that has allowed Matt to maintain the illusion that he is Mr. Nice Guy is that he found a young TV actor who was just a pretty face and made friends with him so he would always look good by comparison. Matt is very media-savvy and manipulative in that way. He's like a mix of [O. J. Simpson defense-team members] Bob Shapiro and Alan Dershowitz.

Kevin Smith (writer and director, ‘Dogma,’ ‘Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back’; co-executive producer, ‘Good Will Hunting’): Matt made pretty thoughtful choices about what roles he wanted to play and the directors he wanted to work with after Good Will Hunting, which made Ben's more commercial choices easier to put down for some folks. The assignation was that Matt chose to be a serious actor in films, while Ben chose to star in movies. That script flipped when Matt was Bourne and Ben became a filmmaker.

Friend, Brother of Best

Damon: Casey moved in with us [when he was 19]. He would walk in the room, and I'm like, “Is that my shirt?” It got so bad with the Affleck brothers that I was at the point where I wanted to label all of my stuff, 'cause it would just fucking show up in Casey's drawer. And if it's there long enough, then it's like some version of squatters' rights, where suddenly he's like, “No, dude, this is mine. You saw me. I've been wearing this since December.” Like, that doesn't mean it's yours! Just because you washed it doesn't mean it's yours.

Good Will

Billy Bob Thornton (director, ‘All the Pretty Horses’): I did Armageddon with Ben, and I knew 'em before they made Good Will Hunting. They talked to me about it: “Hey, we got this script.” And I'm like, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Wish I hadn't have said that.

Steven Soderbergh (director, ‘The Informant!’; ‘Ocean's Eleven,’ ‘Twelve,’ and ‘Thirteen’; ‘Contagion’; ‘Behind the Candelabra’): I was looking for rewrite work, and one of the open assignments was for Good Will Hunting. I said, “What's it about?” And they said, “Math.” And I said, “Well, I'm terrible at math, so I'm the wrong guy.” Let's put it this way: Word was out on Reservoir Dogs at the script stage—I remember hearing, “There's this fucking great script out there written by this guy.” There wasn't that kind of thing about [Good Will Hunting].

Damon: Harvey [Weinstein] hadn't seen it—somebody lower down the ladder [at Miramax] had passed. And we were fucked. We had made a deal with Castle Rock where we had to sell it for a million dollars and whoever we sold it to had to allow us to star in it. If we didn't, it was gonna go back to Castle Rock and we were out of the movie. We asked [Kevin Smith] to direct it, and Kevin wouldn't. He goes, “I'm not a good enough director.”

Smith: I asked Ben to FedEx a copy of the script and hit it in the bathroom, intending to read a few pages while on the bowl. Two hours later, I came out of the bathroom crying [because] it was so good. [Co-executive producer] Scott Mosier said, “You were in the bathroom for two hours, and now you're crying. Should I call an ambulance?” I said, “No. We gotta call Harvey.” And we gave it to Harvey and said, “Remember when you picked up the Pulp Fiction script from TriStar in turnaround? This is like that. Especially the Oscars part.”

Weinstein: Kevin Smith gave it to Jon Gordon in my office. Jon Gordon gave it to me. I loved it.

Damon: Every Oscar weekend, the three big agencies host parties. In 1998, [the year we won an Oscar for Good Will Hunting], the CAA party was given in our name. Like, “Ben Affleck and Matt Damon invite you to the CAA party.” We called it “our party.” It was incredible. I talked to Tom Cruise. Even a movie like Cocktail, which the critics didn't particularly dig, was a hit. An agent said to me, “There's no career that's ever been like this. Everyone has ups and downs. This guy's never had a down.” He was the movie star's movie star. And I remember the way he talked about the business: He was not owed anything or could count on anything. And I was like, “Oh, my God. It's an insecure business for Tom Cruise!”

Simmons: I was dating this girl who moved to Chicago, and I was living in Boston. I was making, like, $200 a week writing a column and bartending, and it cost somewhere between $300 and $450 to fly to Chicago. So I went to see Good Will Hunting in Cambridge by myself. And at the end, he goes to see about a girl, and I was like, “You know what? I like her, but I don't know if I'd go to see about a girl.” We broke up within 12 hours. And my next girlfriend was my wife. That's why I always defend Matt Damon.

Grimm, Brothers

Brian Koppelman (co-writer, ‘Rounders,’ ‘Ocean's Thirteen’): The nose [in Ocean's Thirteen] originated because we had heard this rumor that Matt had wanted to wear a weird nose in Brothers Grimm. He wasn't able to, so we decided we were going to give him an even bigger, uglier nose.

Terry Gilliam (director, ‘The Brothers Grimm,’ ‘The Zero Theorem’): He's got that cute little retroussé nose and a big bony head, and I thought his head needed something stronger. So we put the bump on, and he suddenly became like Marlon Brando—he was sexy, he walked different. And then we had a huge fight with the Weinsteins and they threatened to close the movie down if I put that bump on his nose.

Weinstein: Oh, my God. Matt and Heath Ledger, may he rest in peace, just on bended knees said, “Can you finance this movie?” And my brother said, “It's Terry Gilliam—let's just do it.”

Damon: I remember the night that Terry shattered a wineglass in his hand because he was in an argument with one of the producers. He said, “I'm not gonna fucking…,” and snapped the wineglass in his hand, and then went storming out. And Heath [Ledger] and I just immediately got up to follow our fearless leader. Terry goes, “I think that went well! Where are we going for dinner?”

He was deciding whether to refuse to shoot over the nose issue. And he came into the makeup room at five in the morning and said, “They gave me the money that I need to make the movie, but we have to not do the nose. What do you think?” And Chrissie Beveridge, who still does my makeup, pulled out the nose and put it on the table. And we literally looked at it and just started laughing.

Chrissie Beveridge (makeup artist): Terry [said], “Would you talk to Bob Weinstein?” I didn't.

Damon: It was a $3 million nose.

Weinstein: Ironically, it's Terry Gilliam's highest-grossing movie he ever had in the United States. [Editors' note: Actually, ‘12 Monkeys’ is.]

Soderbergh: So on [Ocean's Thirteen], I was like, “Dude, we can do it. Like, we can give you the nose.”

Damon: And in Invictus, I ended up wearing the actual [Brothers Grimm] nose.

Beveridge: It was a slightly different nose.

Ledger, Heath

Gilliam: Matt is mathematical at times, and that's both a strength and sometimes… I think that's what it maybe was between him and Heath. Because [Heath's] heart was on his sleeve, and that opened up a lot in Matt.

Damon: He was too bright for this world. Coming off [The Brothers Grimm, I was] telling everybody that I just worked with the best actor I've ever seen. And people were like, “What are you talking about? The guy from A Knight's Tale?” And I was like, “You just wait. And wait until you see what kind of a director he's gonna be.”

There were things that he did where I couldn't have got there in three lifetimes. And there were ways in which he was like a puppy dog. You wanted to protect him.

[His death was] just fucking pointless. I called Terry when I found out, and he was like, “I'm sitting here in Vancouver. I'm looking out the window, and it's a beautiful sunny day, and the lights are turning red, and the lights are turning green, and cars are stopping, and cars are driving. I am surrounded by mediocrity. And he's gone.”

Maaaaaatt Daaaaamon

Damon: The most common head shot that I'm asked to sign is pictures of that fucking puppet [from Team America: World Police]. And they always say, “Will you write ‘Maaaaaatt Daaaaamon’?” I'm like, “Okay. Matt, with, like, 16 *a'*s in it.” [Trey Parker and Matt Stone] are legitimate geniuses. But when that came out, I thought, Wow, is that what people think of me? That I'm really dumb? So I remember asking friends of mine, and they all told me that it didn't really make sense that I was dumb. I was like, “Are you just saying that?” And then [my wife] Lucy heard an interview with [Matt and Trey] where they said the puppet showed up the day before they were supposed to shoot with it, and it looked like it had special needs, and they didn't have time to change it with the budget. I don't know if they made that up subsequently.

“Matt Damon, I'm F#©%ing”

In 2008, Sarah Silverman and Damon starred in a music video called “I'm Fucking Matt Damon” to “inform” Silverman's then boyfriend, Jimmy Kimmel, that she was “sleeping with” Damon.

Jimmy Kimmel (host, ‘Jimmy Kimmel Live!’; nemesis): [The video “I'm Fucking Matt Damon”] was supposed to be a present for my 40th birthday. Just to make sure the punch in the stomach hit a kidney.

Silverman: [When the show premiered,] Jimmy was literally getting guests like the man with the longest arm hair. So as a joke, he would say at the end of the night, “Sorry, Matt Damon. We ran out of time,” because Matt Damon was the biggest movie star he could think of.

Damon: We had done The Bourne Ultimatum [spoof] with [Kimmel sidekick] Guillermo [as Jason Bourne]. Like, now Jimmy's kicking me out of my own movies? And we all were just like, “How do we keep this thing alive?” And the guy who directed that called with this idea that Sarah had given him.

Silverman: Matt came in, learned the song in a closet of the hotel we had, and then we had three hours with him to shoot because he had his daughter's Halloween pageant at noon.

Damon: It happened really fast, and then suddenly I was in the car. I was like, “Holy fuck, I'm going to a parent-teacher conference. I can't do shit like this anymore.”

Ben Affleck: As soon as I saw “I'm Fucking Matt Damon,” I knew I would be doing “I'm Fucking Ben Affleck.” So I called Jimmy, and they were already putting it together. Having Josh Groban yelling out, “I'm fucking Beeeeen. I'm fucking Ben Affleck!” remains a high point of my career and life.

Mojo

Soderbergh: When [Matt] hit us on the Ocean's set, he said, “I really feel like I've kind of lost my mojo.” He'd just come off a couple movies that didn't work commercially [All the Pretty Horses and The Legend of Bagger Vance], and they were not finished with Bourne—they were gonna go back and reshoot more after we wrapped. And I remember George [Clooney] and I saying, “We can do that with this. You're going to have a blast.”

Damon: I showed up like a drowned rat and just stumbled into the room [with Steven] and George. Steven says, “This is the movie where you're gonna get your mojo back.” And they had a big party because it was the “We have arrived in Chicago” party. They rented out a bar with the whole crew. And then we shot the next day, and then they rented out a bar and had a huge “We're leaving Chicago” party. And I'm like, “Wow, maybe I am gonna get my mojo back on this shoot.”

Parenting, Matt's

Fey: Some people are lying when they say they want to go be with their families, but I think Matt actually really does like his family—his lovely wife and his 26 daughters.

Parenting, Matt's Mother's

Soderbergh: One of the first thoughts I had when I met Matt was, Okay. This guy was very well raised. I don't mean that in a pejorative sense. I was just like, “He's a good kid.” Like, “They raised a good kid.” Which is what you would want anybody to say about your child.

Julia Roberts (co-star, ‘Ocean's Eleven’ and ‘Twelve’): Matty's a good boy.

Pilot, Carol the

In 2010, Damon began a four-episode guest arc on the NBC sitcom ‘30 Rock’ as Liz Lemon's boyfriend, pilot Carol Burnett.

Damon: Lucy and I started watching on the first episode and were like, “This is our favorite thing.” I literally went up to [Tina Fey] at the SAG Awards and said, “Look, your show is so great, and if you ever have anything on it, I would love to do a guest spot.”

Fey: [Matt] was like, “I wanna be on the show! I wanna be on the show!” We immediately flew back the next day and called WME, and the agent was like, “He's not doing this!” And we're like, “No, no, he told us he wanted to do it.” And you could tell his agent was like, “Faaaaaaahhhhhhck. He's too good for this!”

Damon: Yeah, that was one that Patrick was like, “What the fuck? What are you doing?”

Patrick Whitesell (Matt's agent): I wasn't opposed to Matt doing it. I thought it would be a fun thing. The only thing was I wanted it limited in the number of episodes.

Scheduling Conflict

Douglas: [When I first heard about Behind the Candelabra,] I was recovering from a Stage IV cancer bout and was so unbelievably fortunate to look at this Richard LaGravenese script and go, “My God.” And Soderbergh's involved, and then Matt, who wanted to do the other part. And then when we were getting ready to go do it, both of them—both Steven and Matt individually—said, “You know, we've got conflicting schedules right now. So let's put this off for a year.” And my heart sunk. I thought, Oh shit, it ain't ever going to happen. The truth be told, I was so happy to be alive that I didn't recognize the fact of just how underweight I was. And I think both of them looked at me and said, “He's not ready to do Liberace.” And rather than in any way make me feel like it was a problem, they simply lied and said, “We have other projects,” and waited a year, until I got back on my feet and my strength was there.

Damon: I'll take it, but I did have a scheduling conflict. I think that Steven certainly knew that more time on the mend would not hurt at all. They replaced Michael from the neck down with a concert pianist, but Michael's arms had to be at the right place at all times or it didn't work. The amount of hours [that took], I don't even know. It was this virtuoso performance. And he said to me the last night [of shooting], “I couldn't have done this last year.”

Sweating

Koppelman: We write [Rounders] on spec, and Harvey Weinstein buys it. Then we get a call that he wants to show us ten minutes of this film [Good Will Hunting] with this guy Matt Damon, who [they thought] should star in [our movie]. We immediately love the idea.

So we happened to be down at [the L.A. casino] Hollywood Park, and we started talking to these guys and mentioned that we'd written this poker movie. They go, “Matt Damon's our best friend.” And I said, “Oh, really? Matt Damon's your best friend?” Twenty-five minutes later, Matt and Ben come storming in. Neither guy had played casino poker. Matt was immediately like, “Tell me stuff I need to know.” So we got a table and [co-writer] David [Levien] showed Matt how to riffle chips. Within 10, 15 minutes, he's sitting at the table riffling like he's an old pro.

David Levien (co-writer, ‘Rounders,’ ‘Ocean's Thirteen’): He took poker very, very seriously then, and obviously Ben got bit by the bug. We said, “If you really want to learn about this, come to New York.”

Damon: I started getting in and sweating the games, which means sitting behind a player who agrees to show you their hole cards so you can watch how they play the hand. And these were rounders, the people who were making basically ten bucks an hour sitting there with no health benefits, just hoping that somebody new would come in so they could chop him up.

Edward Norton (co-star, ‘Rounders’): Matt and I got coaching from top poker pros, but also from some guys in the underground poker scene who were experts in working a game as partners with coded signals, because that was something our characters did in the film. We decided we'd see if we could actually pull it off in a game, and we cut it apart. Then we walked down Sixth Avenue a few blocks and chopped up our collective winnings. We agreed that our commitment to the craft of acting justifiably forced our ethical standards into the backseat. And most of the money we clipped came off Harvey and Bob Weinstein, so we agreed that was good for humanity.

Alicia Vikander (co-star, ‘Jason Bourne’): We were shooting [Jason Bourne] in Vegas, and I learned to play craps [the night we wrapped]. I asked Matt [for advice] because of course he and Ben are kind of known for that. I said that I was going to bed, and then I said that I was just going to have one drink. It happened to be quite a few.

Sweating (More)

Damon: I've sweat some great directors for the last 20 years. When Ben was doing Gone Girl, I went over and visited the set and sat behind David [Fincher] while he was directing. There was a scene where Ben and Rosamund [Pike] walk into a bookstore and end up coming towards the camera through one of the aisles and kissing each other. So before the door opens and they come in, an extra walks by at the end of the line of books. David instantly starts monologuing: “Who fucking walks like that? Are you fucking… Am I wrong? Like, who fucking walks like that? It's ridiculous. I mean, he fucking looks like an extra in a movie. What the fuck?” Meanwhile, Ben and Rosamund are acting their hearts out, and I know they're gonna go again, no matter what they do, because this person fucking blew it. So David goes over and gives them notes, and they get ready to do it again, and Rosamund's makeup artist comes walking in to touch her up. David's looking at his monitor, and he goes, “Now, that's how you walk.”

Joshua Donen (David Fincher's manager): David denies that this ever took place, but out of respect for the talents of Mr. Damon, he has decided not to take legal action.

Teeth

Roberts: He does have nice teeth.

Kimmel: I mean, they can't be real, right? They're so perfect. They're obviously something that some Hollywood witch doctor put into his head somewhere along the line, possibly on one of his jaunts to China where he disappears for six months and suddenly has a whole new look. One day he's Jason Bourne. The next day he's Liberace's fiancé.

Damon: True.

Larry Rosenthal, D.D.S., declined to respond to multiple requests for comment.

Thing, Best I've Ever Been a Part Of

Damon: [The 2000 Cormac McCarthy novel adaptation All the Pretty Horses] failed the critics and failed to find the audience. I'm not over it 18 years later or whatever it is, so I'm just clearly never gonna get over it. It really fucking depresses me. I only saw Billy [Bob Thornton]'s cut once, and I just remember feeling like, “Oh, my God, this is the best thing I've ever been a part of.” It was Daniel Lanois's music that did it—it was all Daniel on this old guitar.

Thornton: The studio made us take Dan's score out.

Weinstein: It's great, but there were studio executives who fell asleep during the screening. The movie cost $48 million. You [ask], “Am I going to put a four-hour movie out?”

Damon: I was in Paris working on The Bourne Identity, and every night after work, I'd come home and I'd have a conference call with Harvey and Billy Bob. I would pace in this living room in this apartment I'd rented as I was talking to them. Billy's heart was fucking breaking. [When] he relented, he said, “Harvey, I have a chance to do four, maybe five great things before I die. And what I'm hearing you say to me is this isn't gonna be one of them.” And my knees literally buckled.

Thornton: You live with it. They did offer us the opportunity to put [my cut] out on DVD with the original music. But Dan felt like, “If my music wasn't good enough for them to put in the movie, then I don't know if I wanna put it in there on the DVD,” so I stood by him. I'm not gonna ever go side against an artist.

Weinstein: I've said to Matt, “I'll put up a million dollars any day of the week to restore it. I don't even care if I get the money back.” And I'm happy to sit down with Matt and Billy and do that. We've tried to resurrect that on a number of occasions, but the composer didn't want to let us do it, and he has strong rights. I understand. But time softens everyone. It's time to re-approach him.

Thornton: I think maybe one of these days I'm gonna just have a party over at my house to show it to 20 or 30 people.

Damon: I would love it if he did.

Wife, Krasinski's

John Krasinski (co-writer, ‘Promised Land’): The day I met him was the scene in The Adjustment Bureau where he kisses my wife [Emily Blunt] in a very big way. And so when I went up to him, he turned to me, and the first thing he ever said to me was, “Hey, man. I was just totally tonguing your girl.” And I went, “Oh, okay. Cool.” And he saw my face and he just cratered. He said, “Oh, my God. I am so sorry. I am so sorry.”

Damon: A reason to do that movie was to meet those two. They're just the best.

Emily Blunt : I have never played a board game with the Damons. The four of us hang out constantly and drink way too much together. Red wine for the three of us, and John's allergic to red wine, so he has to take down the bottle of white by himself. Which is not an issue.

Damon: That allergy is recent. He used to not be allergic to red wine, so we were perfect dinner companions. Now everything is off.

Worship

Chris Hemsworth (friend; Norse god): [I was going to be on the cover of GQ, and] I was like, “Shit, what do we do [for the story]?” Matt goes, “You should go bike riding! You can use mine.” So the next morning, I didn't want to bring the writer [into Matt's home because] I didn't want Matt to be uncomfortable. And Matt was like, “No, bring him in!” Matt's cooking pancakes and telling all kinds of interesting stories and quoting all sorts of interesting people. And I was sitting there going, “I just lost myself the cover. I can just see the cover turning into Matt's cover. This is the worst thing I could have done with this thing, introduce the writer to Matt.” I felt like I had a new girlfriend and I had introduced her to my cooler friend or something.

Blunt: It's almost sickening, actually. He's like the most universally loved person I've ever met.

Jessica Chastain (co-star, ‘Interstellar,’ ‘The Martian’): When I was going to go work on The Martian, everyone was going on and on about what a great person he was. You always wonder, like, “Okay, is the reputation accurate?” And with him, it was.

Jeff Schaffer (executive producer, ‘Seinfeld,’ ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’; co-creator, ‘The League’; Harvard classmate): “Great” gets thrown around a lot. Like, if you hate a movie, you go, “It was great!” In L.A., “great” means it's shit. So I have to drop down one to “good.” He's a good man.

Matthew McConaughey (co-star, ‘Interstellar’): I remember a late night in Laurel Canyon after A Time to Kill came out. Matt shared a genuine excitement for the success the film and I were having. He's always been like that, as far as I know—confident and self-assured enough to appreciate a peer's success while still paving his own path.

Krasinski: You look at him and think, Wow. You've maintained staying grounded with a career like this. For people who don't have even half the career of you, if we're not as grounded as you, we're just jackasses.

Paul Greengrass (director, ‘The Bourne Supremacy,’ ‘The Bourne Ultimatum’; director and co-writer, ‘Jason Bourne’): He is a really superb, aggressive, fast driver. Somewhere deep in that soul there must be a Jason Bourne lurking.

Simmons: If you're at a party and somebody's like, “You know who I fucking hate? Matt Damon,” people would be like, “What? Why do you hate Matt Damon? Did he fuck your girlfriend?”

Kimmel: He had sex with my girlfriend and then made a song about it. I think he's more devious than [his character in The Talented Mr. Ripley]. More diabolical. Matt Damon in real life is more of a pure evil.

Soderbergh: You could walk around town with a checkbook offering to pay people a million dollars to say something bad about Matt, feeling secure you'd never have to write a check.

Reported by Zach Baron, Lauren Larson, Anna Peele, Clay Skipper, and Caity Weaver.

#matt damon #good will hunting #all the pretty horses #30 rock #behind the candelabra #the brothers grimm #ocean's eleven #the adjustment bureau #interstellar #rounders #GQ #interview #photo #2016 #originals

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purplekoop · 4 months ago

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I haven't mentioned my DnD character Vespie in ages, and it's been so long that I think it'd be deranged trying to recap the whole thing. For the absolute bare minimum:

She's a fairy princess next in line for the throne

She's also a wasp who can summon an entire army of mini magic wasps

Take a wild guess what superhero she's based on

She also has a bee cat who doesn't do anything intrinsically useful. Her name is Majesty.

She ran away from home and then made a deal with a compass-faced fey entity for a magical compass that took Vespie from her home dimension to the normal dimension

She then fell out of the sky onto a pirate island where upon impact she broke the compass instantly. This is a problem.

She was quickly rescued by a nice snake lady who she traveled with for a bit alongside varying degrees of other people. Eventually they parted ways but god I can't go into all the other party member swaps for Several reasons but the two members of the party to stick around from day one to now are Vespie and another fairy named Yvette. She's blue and french and has a WHOLE lot of other problems but she's amazing.

Anyways after a bit the initial party forms the compass person came around to ask about that broken compass deal (not in a friendly way they turned a whole town into animals for a bit as a threat) so that's weighing on her now

A while later the party changes and all that fun stuff, more adventures and whatnot are had with the new gang

At some point it's revealed Yvette (the daughter of a pair of rich fey corporate overlords) is in an arranged marriage with Prince Benyllidae (Vespie's younger brother). Yvette's first response to a picture of him was laughing at him profusely. At this point Vespie's kept the royalty thing secret so she's internally screaming at All Of This.

Someone predicted the royalty reveal AGES ago but they left early on so nobody cared

Ironically the name of the cat didn't tip them off much

Somewhere along the line (I GENUINELY can't remember when) somehow they find out that Vespie's moms (the two queens of the underground bug fey kingdom)

More angst is had, someone steals the compass for a bit and that's not good on the mental health but she's fine I promise.

Eventually Vespie learns that her brother was just maimed to near-death, with his wings destroyed and himself barely surviving. After very thoroughly admitting she's Not Okay she also admits to everyone she's the missing princess.

At this point she gets a new edgy costume. Not necessarily because of her mental health being hacked at every few days like an axe to a log, but more so because there was a dress up event and I thought it'd be neat.

The party also all got special random mount familiars, and Vespie somehow ended up getting a hell wasp.

The hell wasp's name is Janet. She makes motorcycle sounds.

Not too long after that though one of the other party members reveals he was the one who almost killed her brother. Vespie then runs off, and calls the compass person to repay her debt for not fixing the compass because she feels so awful this might as well happen.

Turns out the debt collection method is to fix the compass's broken crystal needle by using Vespie as the replacement piece. Eventually the party bargains a way to get her back because they love the little freak so much but spirits are pretty low still

So they go on their way to start dealing with that and on the way encounter a Giant God Damn Robot

Right before Vespie did the stupid thing she sent her cat back home with a message to her two longtime best friends to finally wake up the robot that's been dead in the castle's basement for a thousand years but was gradually been repaired by one of the friends, and was sent to go find Yvette

So now instead of Vespie they have a giant robot

The robot doesn't have a real name and has been conscious for barely 20 hours by the time she meets the party

They give out their internal working name of "Faermaton Protomodel 1" and so for now she's just been called FPM-1 for short.

Or FPS

She can turn her one hand into an arm cannon

She also has healing capabilities and can double her size at will

Note Yvette also has a spell that can double the size of more or less anything so that brings FPM to a max of 32 feet tall whenever the hell that's needed

She knows basically nothing but the bare essentials for her intended function as a high-end security guard for the royal family and so within the first day of meeting her the party (drunk) explained to her uh. How sex works. And then gave her a smut book for further reading.

Despite this she has a programmed profanity filter

She's also vaguely similar to the more human-sized robots called Aeormatons that the party has encountered before, which hail from an ancient bygone civilization of sky elves (the ancestors of fairies in this world).

Worth noting that the guy who almost killed the prince is also a sky elf who lost his wings and was sent forward in time to the current day. He's also a were-rat. Like a werewolf but a rat. His name is Cathy and he's great too.

Just this last session, a screen on her stomach played a corrupted message from what what we assume is her creator. After this, the party opened FPM up, went inside her while she's at max size, and discovered: 1: She doesn't have a physical power source 2: Her body has an even more robotic and literal internal system that has no knowledge of what FPM's normal consciousness does, and also leaves that normal self unconscious while active. 3: This internal system somehow has information about somebody called the Void King, which was a spooky bedtime story in Cathy's time that may in fact be a real world-ending threat more serious than the MULTIPLE other powerful entities the party was already dealing with.

FPM can in fact. Run DOOM.

Also to cap off this insane rambling, reference art of:

Vespie (original outfit)

Majesty

Vespie (outfit 2.0)

And finally FPM-1 (rough sketch, had to rush this to have it in time for her debut session and have been to sidetracked to update it)

No I don't have art of Janet. I'm sorry.

#koop's oc stuff #dnd #vespie

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wistrea · 4 months ago

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VERSES : CHOOSE YOUR DOMAIN

current verses: main lore, modern au, magic shop au, dragon age, house of the dragon, resident evil, star wars, love and deepspace, stardew valley, marvel / x-men, final fantasy 7 + 15 + 16 verses to be added soon: dc comics, fire emblem (3 houses, awakening, fates), mass effect, skyrim

v. MAIN LORE witch ( half - human and half - fey ) / sorcerer + rogue / the chaos witch

the horikoshi clan is a prominent bloodline of warriors within the empire of hazakura. their estate is found on an island off the east coast of hazakura known as anmatsuri, of which their family had long since protected. they were most known for their remarkable combative ability throughout history, though was not a noble house of the empire themselves. they often operated separately. hanshiro horikoshi was a man who could make a single blade feel like a hundred in battle, the sentinel of anmatsuri who wielded the greatsword blessed by the primordial moon, who battles monsters and creatures from the depths tirelessly, keeping them from treading into the mainland.

masako was the daughter born between a forbidden affair between the unseelie king and the seelie queen, raised in the seelie palaces despite her status as half - blood. her mother had seen her as little more than a tool to be used as leverage against her former lover, not even granting her the permission of the family name to use. she was talented in spirit magic and healing, arts tied to the life domain, and a part of the high court of thaumaturgy amidst the animosity she experienced. having grown bored of the perfectionism in the seelie high courts and their traditional outlook on established magic principle, she left the feywilds to explore the material plane, known as the realm of hiraeth. she would push the limits of thaumaturgy and create several healing spells from scratch under a pseudonym that revolutionized magic forged in the life domain.

in her travels, she would eventually meet hanshiro horikoshi in her travels, whom she would take as her lover and husband. together, they would have three children: matsuko, the eldest. ashitaka, the second son. and kira, their youngest and only daughter. when she would turn eight, her mother and father rought home an infant they had adopted that same year: a boy named yuuichiro who had no magic of his own and yet had a familiar with a strange magical nature.

kira horikoshi had manifested magic at a young age, being able to summon storms whilst she lay in her crib, leading her family to discover their infant daughter giggling and laughing in the midst of the tempest. unbeknownst to her family at the time, they would raise the child who was the first in centuries who was born with the affinity for chaos magic, and in a vessel with unbridled ambition. in the tradition of her clan, she was trained to hold a blade the moment she could hold a training sword, all the while learning magic with her mother. with two older brothers who excelled in the art of combat, she had always been eager to prove herself, competitive ever since she had taken her first breath.

many who practiced the art of swords would travel to anmatsuri and challenge the horikoshi clan, who were known masters of the blade. it was said that her father enjoyed sending out his daughter to meet challengers, finding their cocky demeanor entertaining when faced with their opponent: a small girl, wielding a naginata. it was all the more entertaining when she bested them in three swift moves.

when beasts from the abyss had swarmed anmatsuri after the wards around their waters had been broken, she knows sacrifice for the first time, and grief wears anger's face as she witnesses the death of her mother and father. it is said that a much more terrible monster was born that evening : the girl who acquainted herself with slaughter, praised for the killing because of the lives it had saved, not knowing what kind of hunger they had just introduced her to. she was more monster than girl, with wings like a raven sprouted from her back, surging towards every beast to devour and kill. those who carry the armor and blades of the dawn had mistaken her for one of the abyssal creatures and cut off the wings from her back, bringing her back to their keep where she was experimented on for two years until she would break herself out and fight her way home.

the years that had passed only aimed to further kira's ambition, as she had soon awakened the depths of her chaos magic and the tides of another age of calamity drew near. there is a cycle of self - sacrifice that she subjects herself to, in order to earn the power she so desires. she journeyed throughout the realm in search for answers regarding primordial chaos, as she becomes one of the four omens of calamity, alongside: the dragon of ruin, the false king, and the sovereign of light. she pursued power, at the risk of all she had ( even bargaining her own life in a tie to necromancy in exchange for more space to fill herself with magic ), and kira horikoshi would be known as the most powerful witch throughout the realm of hazakura.

prologue arc ( 18 - 24 years old ): shortly after finishing her studies at the isles of lore where she had extensively pursued the arts of levin and hail, along with alchemic arts, kira had set off and founded the band of corvids, a traveling group that started with her and a handful of her childhood friends, including ryoma kaneshiro, silao isagani, thais of lakandula, and theoden rosgrave. kira is a mercenary and traveling witch, continuing her study on artifacts from the age of ancients, occasionally found performing displays of magic akin to a mini theatre in the streets where her wanted posters are blatantly displayed on the city walls.

present arc ( 25 years old + ): the chaos witch is a being that has become a living myth, in a mask with raven - like features and the power of the primordials radiating off them. in the wake of silao's betrayal and reveal as the false king, the blame for the summoning of the third age of calamity has been placed on the chaos witch, a conjured villain that kira intended to make her own, fueled by her desire for power after she had killed the exalt of order. they frame her as a false god, the incarnation of primordial chaos who had claimed the dragon of the ruined lands. only a handful of people know that kira horikoshi is the chaos witch.

meanwhile, kira is known as the strongest witch in the realm of hiraeth, as she continues to travel in pursuit of her own ambitions and left the band of corvids to the command of ryoma as they have gone to follow their respective paths in the wake of silao's betrayal of them all and his ascendance. she is an assassin under the alias of the raven when the role suits her, and other times can be found teaching children how to perform magic within the schools of the isles of lore.

epilogue arc ( late 30's to 40+ years old ): coming soon.

v. MODERN AU witch / professor of osteology + magic ( specifically spellwork and alchemy ) full time, part - time assassin / the chaos witch

in which kira is a university professor who lives in an apartment with her cat and 37 ravens who hang out on the rooftop. she teaches osteology, archaeology, alchemy, and a variety of spell - related subjects, taking extra time after the usual school hours to be able to hold night classes for people who cannot afford to pay the usual tuition for the curriculum, funding it with her own money. this is important to her because she knows the risks magic users who do not know how to control their abilities can pose to themselves, not only to others. she has a part time job as an assassin.

alternative no - magic version: everything is basically the same except she doesn't get to teach magic now :'(

v. " THE WISTERIA GARDEN " AU witch ( half - human and half - fey ) / owner of a magic shop called the wisteria garden

kira owns her own magic shop in a small seaside town called the wisteria garden! it's a small building where you can always see ravens perched or flying in and out, carrying parcels for delivery. a large wisteria tree grows on the right side of the building, intertwining with the brick as if it was growing into the foundation. she sells potions fresh from the cauldron and tomes of all kinds! the more difficult order the better; she loves a good challenge. owning her own shop gives her the advantage of enough free time to be able to focus on her own experiments.

v. FINAL FANTASY VII SHINRA turk / vessel of shiva materia / traitor

in the foothill town of gongaga, kira horikoshi grew up with her three brothers, raised mostly by her eldest brother after the untimely death of their parents one winter. she had grown up alongside her childhood best friend, zack fair. she eventually leaves the village and searches for her fortune in midgar where she started working as a turk for the shinra electric power company, alongside one of her older brothers, ashitaka. during a mission when kira was sent to a laboratory facility, she and her brother were on the same assignment and were faced with a dire situation, unable to escape the crumbling facility and evade their assailants. it was then that kira used the experimental materia found in the facility, which was shiva material that had been in its trial phases. the unstable materia bound itself to kira, giving her ice - affiliated abilities and the ability to transform herself into shiva. shinra considered her a valuable resource ever since then, but the truth of her nature was kept secret to the public. she could mostly be seen doing very public missions in sector eight in order to keep up a certain mask that led others to divert their suspicions away from her. most of her real assignments involved espionage carried out in secret on behalf of shinra, though she has no loyalty to the company itself.

v. FINAL FANTASY XV SHINRA turk / head of the columbidae / the dark sword of bahamut / herald of chaos * influenced by the events of "the dawn of the future"

kira is from niflheim, a project that was made by verstael in effort to create a vessel to be able to harness the darkness exceeding the current capacity of magitek technology. but instead, the empire had gotten much more than they intended through bahamut's machinations, kira was born: she who was meant to be the incarnation of chaos, a primordial power that had been born from the turmoil brewed by the turmoil caused by the starscourge, left to slumber for so long until the draconian chose to awaken it. the empire wanted a weapon, bahamut needed a vessel to harbor chaos until the time was right for the eventual enactment of teraflare, someone who could harness chaos and mend it into something malleable, harnessable, so that bahamut in the end would sacrifice her to gain that power for the draconian's own, framed as another prophetic vanquishing of evil.

most of her life from her birth as an infant to being a child was spent in verstael's laboratories, she was treated as a weapon and not a human, like a sword being tempered in the forge. a lot of verstael's experiments (or "lessons", as the training was framed) were painful, but it only fueled kira's perspective of seeing herself as little else than a weapon with will. she was called "kira", having been given a name that means "light/bright" which she assumes was some kind of joke. it wasn't until kira was older that she managed to elude the confines of her "father's" laboratories and eventually begins to forge her own plan to exist outside of a confidential file, essentially creating an identity for herself in the empire for the sake of her survival.

which is how the dove came to be. a figure donned in liquid metal armor (similar to glauca's) made of a silver-white armor that stands at nearly 7ft tall, and there seems to be no one who knows what or who truly lies behind that helmet with designs similar to that of a bird's. the dove is the alias of the commander of trained assassins and spies that they had banded together and chosen themself, known as the columbidae. that's who kira is known as, with most unaware of who she truly was. given the nature of subtlety and confidentiality that kira was permitted to operate in, it gave her some yet limited freedom to exact and plan her own ambitions by her own means in secret. she has no sympathy for niflheim, if a little spiteful, and she doesn't really understand their war. not out of her own compassion since she herself doesn't quite feel "human", the way they operate just feels wasteful to her, in a logical sense.

by the start of the events of ff15, kira is twenty one years old and while she didn't participate in niflheim's attack on insomnia, she was declared missing and whereabouts unknown by the empire. she had resorted to operating on her own means, as even her columbidae had vanished without a trace, presumably to their leader's own instruction.

v. FINAL FANTASY XVI the dove / wild magic witch / empress of hazakura

the empire of hazakura is located somewhere near the blighted lands of ash and has become isolated from the rest of valisthea with waloed knocking on its borders. it was said that hazakura has only lasted as long as it has because it somehow manages to bring forth their champion who could harness wild magics just as beasts like behemoths do, and legends of old had once said that there was someone named kazehaya who could have rivaled a dominant's ability but not an eikon's, though the centuries old texts are blurry at best and have since been shrug off as a mere children's tale to give a sense of hope. no such champion has been born in generations.

because of their isolation from valishtea, there is little word that leaves the state of the empire and little cares for them as they had long since lost allies in the other nations. they managed to preserve a great number of texts within their archive, kept by one they call the archivist in the grand tower of the capital. it was the royal's duty to be able to preserve this information and learn from it as well.

the descendants of kazehaya were said to have disappeared until a woman who had come from ash appeared one day: masako, who then married hanshiro horikoshi, the next to be emperor. kira was born to be the next vessel for wild magic. even before her birth, that was what was intended for her. their sacrificial princess, a vessel for the wild magic that no one else could harbor. it was with a heavy heart that her parents had considered this fate but they loved their children dearly. their first two children, matsuko and ashitaka, did not have the same capability to withstand or harbor it (both born without the capability when they were brought to the ancient temple), but when kira was brought there as an infant, she did not infect any signs of magic either, the temple of the primordial moon had chosen her to bare the covenant of wild magic.

while they were traveling to the ancient temple which was outside of the walls of hazakura, they were ambushed with people from the order of radical believers in the primordial moon (cough obsessed cultists cough). they wanted to take the vessel because they believed they are some kind of divine messenger. matsuko, the eldest who was around nine at the time, was forced to take his siblings and run when his mother told him to. matsu was nine, ashitaka was four, and kira was two years old.

after running for so long and trying to make their way to the nearest town, they were found by a group of mercenaries led by a man named trevelyan who took them in. kira and her brothers were taken in by the mercenaries who became like their family, traveling around valisthea. matsuko is the only one who knows of their true identities as the children of the royal family in hazakura but keeps it a secret, per his mother's instructions. he leaves at one point around a few years later because he went to search for a way back to hazakura while his siblings continue to travel with the mercenaries.

four years before the main timeline: the mercenaries were doing a job as hired blades for some people who hired and eventually betrayed them. a lot of the mercenaries, including trevelyan, were slaughtered, but they were close enough in rosaria territory to have been found and the shields managed to intervene just in time. lord murdoch found a ten year old kira holding her baby brother, yuu, in one arm and a sword that was much too big for he in the other, pointed at the lord commander in effort to defend herself. murdoch eventually manages to earn her trust and brings her back to rosaria where she was eventually adopted by rodney and lady hanna.

the surviving mercenaries are made into shields in their debt for their lives being saved. kira's constant reinvention of herself, even when she was just a child, becoming who she needs to survive. adapting into becoming a lady in rosaria, learning how to speak and act as she’s expected to. also training to become a shield following the lord commander's footsteps, much more used to carrying swords around like a squire, as she was used to with the mercenaries, than etiquette lessons, but she did her best with those as well.

she did not feel like she fit in, when it came to rosaria, because she knew her place there was fickle. an outsider, despite how her adoptive parents cared for her, she feared that one slip up on her end could jeopardize the place that she had there, as well as her brothers and the other mercenaries. they had better opportunities than when they were on the road, and she wanted that for them. eventually begins to accustom herself to the life she led in eastpool, enjoying it there. can be seen often following lord murdoch around if she is within rosalith, at to her duties and lessons almost methodically. a quiet girl who carried a sword remarked to be much too big for her, but she retorts by saying she will grow into it. shows no sign of wild magic yet.

fast forward to what happened at the gate, kira was fourteen. she was there but never saw what happened to lord rodney, she just assumed he was dead. when the dragoons found and captured her in the woods nearby, they almost killed her but she manage to escape and run. later on is found by he brother matsuko while she was on her way back to eastpool but he tells her that sanbreque had already be there and he take he back to hazakura.

kira has become a woman of many masks, whatever she deems necessary to survive. she was named the empress of hazakura shortly after she finished the covenant that augments her into someone capable of summoning magic that comes from the wild aether, such as the beasts you could find in valisthea.

she believes that the council naming her as the empress and supporting her claim was only a means of having an actual ruler from the horikoshi bloodline on the throne. she sees herself as nothing more than a sacrificial pawn, for her true place was on the battlefield, being the weapon that they needed, the one to carry their burdens. it was with her rule that hazakura manages with the blight so close to them, being able to manage their resources more effectively and establishing trade routes that had previously been closed.

she has also created a name for herself as a masked figure known as the raven, the leader of a group of blades that a by their own volition, a network that establishes her connections throughout valisthea without knowing who she is. people do not know that kira is the raven.

v. DRAGON AGE human ( half elf ) mage / arcane warrior + battlemage + rift mage / the inquisitor

verse post can be found here -> here.

v. HOUSE OF THE DRAGON kira of house dayne, the stormsinger, lady of high hermitage / human ( witch ) + assassin / daughter of a lord in house blackwood / head of the corvids

verse post can be found -> here!

v. STAR WARS former jedi sentinel turned bounty hunter / captain of the spider lily / from the planet of hazakura

tba.

v. RESIDENT EVIL human (bioweapon) / BSAA agent + mercenary / code name: the witch, of project wisteria

verse post can be found here -> can be found here :)

v. LOVE AND DEEPSPACE words / more words / yahoo

tba.

v. STARDEW VALLEY words / more words / yahoo

tba.

v. THE ELDER SCROLLS V: SKYRIM human (breton) / executioner of the dark brotherhood / the chaos witch

tba.

v. MARVEL / X-MEN mutant + sorcerer / alias : khaos / former experiment of the hand turned vigilante / daughter to lilith

disclaimer: unaffiliated with the mcu rpc + i don't support marvel studios itself.

verse post -> can be found here!

#ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ #VERSES.#going to be adding + changing things here as i go <3 #[ 𝐢. ] ooc › i love the kind of woman that will actually just kill me.

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mastcrmarksman · 7 months ago

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bg3 / dnd verse?

A rundown of Clint's Forgotten Realms / DnD / BG3 verse. Name: Clinton Francis Barton Race: Human (variant human) Age: Unknown... appears around his 40s. Class: Fighter ( Arcane Archer ) [ base class ] + Rogue ( Scout ) multiclass Background: Urchin / Criminal / Witchlight Hand Notes; he is deaf, with only partial hearing in one ear, he knows several sign languages, he can/uses lip reading a lot for several languages once he knows that is being spoken (he knows common, elvish, sylvan, undercommon, and thieves cant), he does speak verbally but there's a distinct tone to his voice

Clint Barton was born to a butcher in the trading town of Triboar of Northern Sword Coast. His childhood, shared along with his brother, was not the easiest nor happiest of childhood's. Their father, Harold, made the boys work the family butchery business from a quite young age and were often the victims of their father's furious drunken fit.

An accident would befall the Barton family killing Clint and Barney's parents to which would find them in th local orphanage, whom swiftly labelled them as trouble makers and dashed their hope of finding another home. This is where Clint's real tale begins.

Fed up with the orphanage, Barney runs away and Clint goes with him. This is when the boys stumble upin a circus, but not just any traveling circus. The boys stumble upon the Witchlight Carnival and instead of merely being guests of the carnival, they find themelves working for the carnival, they find themselves becoming apart of the Witchlight along with becoming part of the Feywild domain of Prismeer.

Clint and Barney both find themselves until the tutlege of men, unknown in origin, called the Swordsman and Trickshot from the Witchlight Carnival. The boys grow up here. Barney becomes one of the Witchlight's most valuable pickpockets while Clint becomes their star as Hawkeye. When the boys are in their mid twenties, things start to sour between Trickshot and Swordsman as well as the owners of the Witchlight.

Clint reveals that Swordsman and Trickshot had been stealing from the Witchlight's own profits for themselves. Barney and Clint both get caught in the crossfire, with Barney siding with Swordsman and Trickshot, all of whom "resign" from the carnival and leaving behind Clint with the debt of Barney, Trickshot, and Swordsman (damning him to pay off and be stuck with the Witchlight).

For a long time, Clint lives and travels with the carnival, only being able to leave for single days at a time until one visit he finds tracks of his brother Barney and sees an opportunity to propose a way to earn his freedom. A deal is strcuk that if he could bring back Barney, Trickshot, and Swordsman to the Witchlight then he'd be free, that they allow him longer leaves from the carnival to follow their tracks. Part of this deal involves a contract that at any given moment the owners may summon Clint back to the carnival and he must check in and complete any additional missions for them.

Clint's aging has been halted due to this deal, but all his years of watching the carnival and the other inhabitants have left him clever. He knows how to steal away time, hide away from the prying ears and eyes of the Fey and the Witchlight. He's made a name for himself in Faerun, and seek more than anything an escape of carnival sertitude, than repaying and bring Barney back to the Carnival; although he will seek out Trickshot and Swordsman for how they've hurt him, how they've twisted his brothre away from him, and see that they get what's coming for him.

While his time traveling among the Sword Coast, Clint has bcome a heroic adventurer in his own right and even has made an allyship with the organization known as the Harpers; he is a harper himself due to his unique ties to the Witchlight and the Feywild. It's through the Harpers that he hopes may lead him to find a permanent escape and an ending solution to being bound to the Witchlight.

NOW HOW DOES HE WORK FOR A BG3 SETTING ? SIMPLE.

While tracking a lead given by him to one of his Harper contacts, feeling like he was hot on Swordsman's tail.

Two options for BG3.

OPTION 1 // He is tadpoleed. He gets intersected by mindflayer's and end up on the Mindflayer ship. He gets tadpoled, which solves his Witchlight problem since the tadpole is spicy and I am the DM, and since that's how it somewhat works. Act two; he will be recognized by Jaheira. Act three; he will be at home with the circus as well as further pursue the Swordsman' trail. He's a heroic type of character anyways, so worrying the mindflayer invasion is huge for him.

OPTION 2 // Not tadpoled. One of the Witchlight's most valuable performers or maybe one half of the owners was abducted by mind flayers, meaning given Clint's unique contract with the Witchlight; he is told to halt tracking Swordsman and instead get to the bottom of the missing owner/attraction, and that's how he ends up traveling with the tadpoled party as his investigation leads to the Absolute party and goblin camp. Will be recognized by Jaheira still and you know Mind-flayere colony, with which Clint makes another deal to be allowed to carry out taking on the Absolute (wrapping up the trail to the Swordsman) before his return to the Witchlight, act three will have similar circus related events.

A reminder that I know the Wild beyond the Witchlight book somewhat, hence why I chose the Witchlight, and that the owners of the Witchlight are technically chaotic good; hence why Clint is allowed some freedoms, but there's a lot of deals and contracts and other fey-fuckery involved hence why he is still tied to it; but why he'd be given leave to pursue the events of BG3.

This is all rough and subject to change, but a general idea. Important bits are he'd probably end up aligned with the Harpers in a faerun setting; he's a archer by fighter class (not ranger); the "only magic" he can do is what comes with the Arcane Archer (which is literally a cantrip and the trickshots/magic arrows) and he's a multi class into rogue as well (its that sneak attack bonus baby and he was a thief lol); since dex fighter/rogue whose primarily an archer makes sense for Clint A LOT. I am right on this.

#[ VERSE; DND ] Come here the tale of the heroic Hawkeye; star attraction of the whimsical Witchlight #here have this.#it doesn't make the most sense but i have a lot of write ups i wanna do #[ about tag ]

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dailycharacteroption · 1 year ago

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Retrograde Revision 1: Animal Speaker (Bard Archetype)

Our quest to redo old entries continues, and it immediately begins with a word substitution error, so that’s cringeworthy.

In any case, this archetype represents someone who has a special connection to certain broad categories of animal, able to befriend them with ease. However, their power also lets them influence animals in general, calling them to your aid.

If this is sounding a bit like a mix of the Pied Piper and a Disney Princess, you’re not wrong.

These characters might be bards trained in secret performances that reach the hearts of beasts, or they might be someone supernaturally gifted to be beloved by nature, their bard training being only incidental or reflavored. Either way, they can always count on a creature of the wilds to aid them.

While it can be tempting to play them as the innocent and naïve Disney Princess type, remember that this archetype can be used for more than that, such as a bard with a touch of the fey, or even a more traditional bard with an aesthetics of the wild.

These bards share a special bond with broad categories of animals, which are never normally hostile to them, and must be forcibly compelled to attack unless attacked first. Meanwhile, their ability to influence and befriend such animals is second to none.

As they grow in mastery, they also befriend additional broad categories of beast, and can magically speak with such animals.

They also learn two special performances. The first one allows these animal friends to influence beasts through their performances.

The second lets them call upon hordes of nearby rats and other rodents to aid and fight for them.

Finally, these nature-loving mystics learn to cast summoning spells geared towards creatures of nature, giving them even more allies beyond the animal type.

This archetype can be a fun one if you do a lot of travelling and your GM doesn’t find animal encounters too “boring”, but it has lots of fun utility wherever animals can be found regardless, which is pretty much anywhere. The most important thing to remember before using the archetype is what counts as a “type” of animal. Sure, “fox” may be a little too specific, while “snake” may be stretching it and “fish” might make a biologist GM wince, so be sure to establish ahead of time what is or isn’t too broad a type. Beyond that, this archetype mostly replaces performances, so build with a few reliable performances in mind and consider adopting a pet or even a familiar (via feats) to constantly have access to an animal buddy.

On the one hand, it can be easy to assume that these mystics are worldly like the Pied Piper, fully willing to go to extreme measures against those that would take advantage of them. On the other, there is a certain appeal to the naivety of the princess archetype, regardless of the nature and origins of the character. After all, their best friends are often animals that would never hurt them. Of course, most characters probably fall somewhere in between on that scale.

Deep in the jungle of Trad’kia, something gives malevolent will to the beasts within. Colonial settlements from nearby nations have fallen under attack by strange armies of apes, birds, and savage dinosaurs acting in concert, all to the tune of a deep bass voice from the trees.

Birdcaller Mountain is named for the gnome civilization that dwells among the peaks, famous for their command over beasts of the air. When a corrupted phoenix is tracked back to the range, the party may find themselves at odds with the bird-worshipping folk, who care not if their living idol has become corrupted and twisted.

Mortran Beldenskein would do anything to acquire the power possessed by his brother, none other than the Merchant King himself, including poison him. Now only his niece stands between him and that prestige. After she returns from an attempt for her to become “lost” in the savage wilderness fails, escorted by the very beasts meant to devour her, Mortran is becoming desperate enough to try a more direct route. If only there were a ragtag band of heroes capable of defending her from what her animal friends cannot.

#pathfinder #archetype #retrograde revision #bard #animal speaker #gnome #phoenix #Ultimate Magic

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everlastingdreams · 2 years ago

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Weeping Monk x Reader : The Patience Of A Heart Chapter 14

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Story Summary: After fire claimed the lives of your family, the monastery of your Uncle Carden becomes your new home. As the niece of a priest you are expected to behave prim and proper, but not even the watchful eyes of the Weeping Monk can see all. An ancient magic returns to life when love and duty begin to blur.

Chapter Title: Heirloom

Notes: Writing is going a little better.

Warnings: There’s a list of warnings for this story: Murder. Violence. Death. Angst. Sexism. Strong Language. Trauma. Childhood trauma. Survivor’s guilt. Mentions of child maltreatment. Threat of Sexual assault. PTSD. Misogyny, Self-flagellation. Gore.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Pining. Smut. Spicy content. Little Slow-burn.

Word count of this fic: +120K

Chapter: 14 / lol Gonna keep the chapter count a secret until the end.

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No explanation was given to you, none was needed.

Someone of the Church had summoned for you and avoiding the confrontation would not be possible.

They threw you into a carriage with bars blocking the views that the small window openings would otherwise offer.

You heard the lock and knew you were trapped inside.

The carriage was set into motion, Trinity guards rode alongside the transport.

Would they take you to the Holy Father? Or was the Abbot the one at blame?

The seats on this carriage were a nightmare, every bump of the road was felt.

By the time you eventually reached the unknown destination, your behind hurt and your mood had turned sour.

The carriage door was unlocked.

“Why am I being held prisoner?” You demanded to know.

It was no use asking, the Trinity guard simply pulled you out of the damned thing.

The destination had been a camp, red tents were scattered across the place.

You were pulled through the mixed crowd of paladins and Trinity guards.

Four of them walked with you into a tent before shoving you forward, you landed on hands and knees by the force of it. After that, they simply stood guard by the entrance.

By looking up, you saw the devious grin on Abbot Wicklow’s face.

“Why the bloody hell am I here?!?” You spat out.

“Forgive us for this unpleasant welcome. The Holy Father and I have some questions we need you to answer.” He looked down at you like you were not worth the dirt beneath his feet.

Determined to knock that ego of his down a notch, you stood up from the ground and snapped “How dare you treat me like this! And this mere days after the death of my uncle! You have no shame!”

His head twitched lightly, the defiance must have been unexpected “I was made aware that you shared a rather peculiar connection with the Weeping Monk.

Your instincts were on high alert “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It did nothing to make him less suspicious “According to some of the paladins, he was rather devoted to you. Some even claim that his devotion surpassed the one he had for Father Carden and the Church.”

This twat sounded so patronizing that you wished he would just burst into flames “The Monk was tasked to protect me, he was loyal to my uncle and did what was ordered. Nothing more.”

The Abbot tilted his chin up and to the side while parroting “Nothing more?” he was unimpressed by how you were cloaking the truth “That is not what Brother Albert claims. There was a possible indiscretion.”

That rotten paladin. Was none of them to be trusted?

He beckoned for one of the golden guards and gestured to you “Inspect her for any Fey marks.”

This was ridiculous “I am not Fey!”

But Father Carden had tried to hide one Fey already, who was to say there weren’t more?

Your objections fell to deaf ears, the first thing the guard inspected was your head and neck, luckily it went fast.

Your arms were next and there the mark was discovered, it was faint now yet still present.

The Abbot appeared intrigued by it “Did he mark you?” when you refused to answer he gave the snide remark “He tainted the niece of the man who spared him. The Weeping Fey is nothing more than an abomination walking the world, just like the rest of them.”

The guards must have thought you were slower than you were, because you were able to lunge forward and strike the Abbot with your fist.

He stumbled back, almost tripping over his tunic.

You were hauled back by the guards, swords drawn this time.

It took him a little to recover from the blow, nose swollen and blood dripping from it.

The glare you got did not even frighten you in the slightest, after trying to kill Lancelot and Percival, he had it coming.

The Abbot tried not to look weak in front of his Trinity guards “Now that Father Carden is dead, it means you are the only one still alive whom he vowed to protect. His devotion for the Church has come to an end, I wonder if the devotion to protect you is still there.”

You saw right through the hidden threat, without hesitating you tried to make a run for it.

One of the Trinity Guards had you in his grasp not a second later.

While he held on to you, the Abbot explained the situation “The Weeping Monk is a threat to the Church and must be found. As your sworn protector, I believe he will not wish to see you imprisoned for the rest of your days.” the bastard got closer “You are bait for that hound.”

You spat in his face and even tried to kick him “He is no hound, he is the man who will put an end to your miserable life if I don’t get to do it first!”

With a flick of the wrist and that entitled head tilt again, he ordered the guards to take you away.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

A tent in the middle of the paladin camp became your prison. Not even a blanket was given to you, your bed was the ground.

Your hands were bound in front and the tent was guarded from the outside.

The Abbot did not take the threat or violence from you lightly, no wonder you did not receive a meal to eat, you wouldn’t ask for anything either.

Days went by and every single time a guard had to handle you for something, you did not hold back on making it as hard as possible for them.

A jab of the shoulder or elbow, a kick, anything to piss them off.

Your favorite moment was when they brought you back to the Abbot for another interrogation attempt and you bumped into the side of one, sending the guard down to fall into a puddle from last night’s rain.

No, you weren’t very popular among the Trinity guards.

Your first escape attempt had been that very first night, hands bound or not, you didn’t intend to stay.

It was ridiculous how you had tried to crawl out from under the tent after prying it open just enough, they caught you while only your feet were left to move from under the fabric. With their arms hooked under yours, they had dragged you back and just placed more guards.

The second attempt had been when they brought you something to eat and drink.

That metal tankard hitting loud against the gold of the guard’s mask was oddly melodic.

After getting the guard unconscious, you stole the notorious outfit they wore and the mask.

In the disguise, you got quite far away from the tent that time and even had a flail.

That plan failed when one of those in charge noticed something was off. Guards rarely walked around alone and apparently they never passed by their superiors without a nod of acknowledgment.

You were surrounded and captured, by now they had little patience left. The only thing that kept you alive was the fact that you were bait.

~“She’s a menace.”~

You’d overheard them say.

For the two weeks afterwards, you proved yourself worthy of that description. After a week the Abbot had tried to convince you to help him lure Lancelot, you, not so politely, told him to go to hell. You wanted Lancelot to stay as far away from this rotten knave as he could possibly be.

Today two of the guards stood before you to watch as you ate, making certain that you would not trick them as they usually untied your hands when you ate.

You did not look away from them while chewing the stale bread, your glare never faltered.

The next plan had been brewing for a few hours, it wasn’t a good one, but you weren’t picky.

After taking another bite, you began to cough and gasp for air, making a wheezing sound.

It took them two counts to consider it an emergency, they rushed to your side, ready to prevent you from choking to death and ruining the Abbot’s plan.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw the hilt of a sword and stole it from the guard.

Your little act stopped when you swung the sword at him and struck him across the face, cutting across it as the mask fell off.

The other caught the blade in his arm, it forced you to release the sword and you just decided to run for it.

This time you did not bother to be discreet, you bolted between the tents so fast that it took a moment for those seeing it to register what was happening.

It must be a strange view to others to see a nun flee from a camp filled with paladins and Trinity guards…

The shouting came from all around and still you kept running and never looked back.

They gave chase by the time you reached the trees and fled into the woods, there was a slope where thick large tree roots grew over and you hopped down into it.

You hid under the roots until you heard them pass by.

Adrenaline rushed through your veins like fire, the mark responded to it. For the first time in days the silver pattern showed it’s glow again.

Part of you hoped that this meant Lancelot knew something was wrong, but you could not stay there and wait for help. It was too dangerous.

You followed the slope in the earth, sometimes it went up a little before going down again. Rocks and trees hid it from sight and if anyone would walk there, they risked a nasty fall.

When you finally climbed out of the slope, you could hear that you were near a river.

No one else was in sight, you didn’t walk next to the river but did follow it’s path to have an orientation point.

Where would you go now that the abbey was no longer safe? Back to your old village? No… they would certainly search for you there.

When it got dark, you settled down in an area where bushes and trees grew close together, while sitting down, the branches of a hawthorn poked into your back.

You rolled up your sleeve to see the mark, it was surprising that it seemed unresponsive. The glow was not present and part of you wished it was, it would be lovely to see it in the dark again.

At least your captors had not taken the bangle from you, it still sat secure around your wrist.

The cold made you roll your sleeve back down, making a fire would pose too much of a risk and draw unwanted attention.

“You smell different.”

The voice had you jump to your feet and look around, a thud came from behind and you got ready to run.

A Moon Wing had came down from the tree in which she was resting “What are you?”

You had never seen a Moon Wing Fey in the flesh before, her skin pale and nearly white, some blue ran across her face and chest. Her wings were thin, they looked a bit like those of a butterfly.

You kept a distance, knowing from books and rumors that Moon Wings were rare and not always friendly, some were even believed to possess otherworldly abilities “Pardon?”

This time she sounded more demanding “What are you?”

It was not a question you ever had to answer before “I uhm… am y/n…”

She let out an agitated sigh, her age had not brought her patience “You carry a smell I have not smelled in decades.”

Well, it was hard not to take it as an insult and you discreetly checked your smell by sniffing your tunic you’d worn for two week because they kept you inside that tent.

At this point the Moon Wing was aggravated “A FEY scent!”

Oh…

Wait…

Did she have clairalience like Lancelot had?

You couldn’t understand why you would smell like Fey kind “I am a Manblood. You can sense Fey kind?”

She moved closer, sniffing the air for a moment “I can.”

You tried to break the ice “I told you my name. What’s yours?”

The Moon Wing woman was stern “I didn’t ask you for your name.”

Well, it sounded like she wasn’t the kind of person to befriend others easily…

There you stood, in the dark woodland with someone who had started a conversation without actually caring to say much “That is true, you went right to asking me what I am.”

Her eyes narrowed and scanned your form “Because your scent is wrong, it hails from Fey ancestry.”

It greatly confused you “I don’t understand-”

She stopped right in front of you “I have not smelled Fey Fire in decades and yet you reek of it. It is in your blood.”

The woman looked you over and suddenly grabbed your arm, you gasped when she moved up your sleeve and the mark glowed a bright green at her touch.

The mark… she had sensed it and it’s origin.

You had never seen it be this color, was Lancelot even aware himself that it could look like this?

She looked down at it, eyes never leaving it, the stern expression gone and replaced with one of melancholia “They were the first we lost to the war. The Ash Folk had the power to bring forth the fire that forged the weapon that kept our kind safe. The Sword Of Power was born by this fire. Every Fey has a different pattern in their marks, like birthmarks in Manbloods.” quietly she traced a finger along the mark “Ban…”

The mark tingled at the mention of the name “Ban?”

She was lost in thought while recalling it “Before the war, our people had kings and queens, knights…” her fingers kept tracing the pattern on your skin “Ban was the Ashen King and wise beyond his years. This mark, it carries his legacy. Who gave this to you?”

You wanted to free your arm from her, wishing to protect Lancelot’s secret still.

But the elder Moon Wing was a druid, the answer was given to her the second she saw the face of the man in your thoughts “A son of Ban lives… Lancelot. His firstborn.”

You didn’t know what to say or how to respond.

If she was saying that this king was Lancelot’s father, he was born a prince to his people…

Finally, she let go of your arm “And the Ashen prince has chosen you, a Manblood, to have his marking.”

This time you demanded to know “Who are you?”

And she gave the answer “I am the elder Yeva. Do not bother to lie to me, child. I can see your memories.”

The chase for information began “You’re telling me that Lancelot is the son of the Ash Folk king?”

Yeva gave a sharp nod “If the war had not happened, if he had not been stolen from our kind, he would be a king among us now. But fate has led him away from us.”

You got a bit defensive “Fate did not lead him away, he was a child stolen by my uncle!”

Dammit… you didn’t mean to tell her of your connection to your late uncle.

It was as if she already knew exactly who you were “And now he returns, when all had seemed lost, hope found it’s way back to us.”

He was not there to ask the questions he would have, you hoped you could do it for him “Is his father alive? Is any of his family?”

She circled you and looked you up and down “No. Only one son of Ban lives.” then stated “You are on the run, fled into these woods to escape them as we do.”

It was no use denying it “They know of my connection with him and wish to use me as bait to lure him. I don’t want that to happen, I don’t really know where to go.”

Yeva gave the advice right away “Head east. Now, before the sun rises.”

You frowned at that “I should travel in the dark?”

The warning sounded casual “The darkness that awaits you otherwise is far more frightening, child.”

Oh…

You looked around you “So…east…”

Yeva raised one of her wings to point to the east “East.”

With a nod you acknowledged it, then asked “Before I go, is there more I should now about this mark? Is there something Lancelot should know?”

The markings had become invisible to the eyes again, it had been a while since they had.

She contemplated for a moment, than casually mentioned “Feys do not exchange rings like a Manblood pairing would.”

It took a couple of seconds before it dawned on you.

He had not just marked you, or put claim on you…it was a true promise made by both.

Yeva pulled you from your thoughts “He should not fear the power that lies within. Ban had the power to create Fey Fire that burned for weeks. If the son of Ban has inherited this, he could burn the world as we know it out of existence. Go now. East.”

It could not be ignored how she sounded urgent and considering you did not know how long or how far east she wished for you to go, it was wise to start walking “Thank you, Yeva. Be careful, Trinity Guards and paladins will be searching the woods for me.”

She gave a slight tilt of the head, than flew up into the coverage of the trees.

You could no longer see her and started walking east. It wasn’t fun to stroll around the woods in the dark, every sound had you on edge. With every step you feared you were being too loud and that they would find you. Still, you took Yeva’s advice to heart.

After walking for more than an hour, there was a vague nagging pain in your ankle starting again. Great…

The river blocked your path and you had to walk along it for a distance before finally reaching a shoddy looking wooden bridge, the wood cracked under your feet with every step.

A pair of deer ran off at the sound of it and made you feel guilty for waking them.

Right when you stepped off the bridge, the last wooden plank broke in half.

At least you were lucky enough to reach the other side without a plunge into the water, heaven knew how long you would have to walk around with wet clothes.

You heard something and stopped to listen only for your anxiety to spike when recognizing the sound.

The horses’ hooves loudly hit the ground as they ran through the forest with their riders.

There were at least four by the sound of it.

Quickly you searched for a place to hide, only to hear someone shout.

“THERE SHE IS!”

Running was the only option, they must have been tracking you.

Never before had you run so fast, adrenaline simply took over.

The sound grew louder and louder, one look over your shoulder and you saw the golden masks, lasso’s ready in hand.

They were far too fast to outrun, you heard one come from your right and you abruptly stopped and ducked down.

The rope that would have caught you dragged over your back, the horse was too fast to stop as abrupt as you had done.

Quick as a whistle you darted off to the other direction, choosing a path were trees grew closer together.

And then you were on the ground… a rope had went over your head and ended up trapping your ankle. The fall was painful, there was fear you had broken a bone from it.

Two remained on their horses, three of the Trinity guards approached on foot.

The one who held the rope sat on his horse and taunted you by pulling at the rope.

Two grabbed you from the ground, the third put a rope around your neck and tightened it. They did not want you to escape again, that much was clear.

Even though they kept your arms in their hold, you did kick the one who had put the rope on your neck in the stomach.

He buckled over a bit, regained his footing and shared a look with the others.

The air left your lungs when he proceeded to punch you in the stomach, the only thing preventing you from sinking to the ground was the bastards that were holding you.

It hurt so bad you barely fought back the tears which formed.

There was another strong tug at the rope at your ankle and this time they gladly let it drag you to the ground.

One of those who had held unto you drew his sword and now you learned that they were going to make you submit with force.

Of course you panicked, who would not when facing a group of armed killers?

The sword moved and you pulled your leg away just in time, it sank into the soil instead.

The guard withdrew it and was enjoying to see you try and scramble away.

You narrowly dodged the sword when he tried to sink it into your hand.

He ran out of patience and told the others “Hold her!”

An arrow struck a mounted guard in the neck and caused the horse he rode to panic and throw him off. The ruckus it caused covered the sound of an approaching horse.

A shadow passed by the Trinity Guard that held unto the rope and was still seated on the horse, steel cut through the air and dark liquid splattered around. The guard fell from his horse while grabbing at his neck to stop the blood from spraying out, to no avail.

The chaos began so sudden and you didn’t know where to crawl to safety.

Another arrow struck the arm of one that had just grabbed you and you took the opportunity to crawl away.

It was then that you noticed the glow on your arm.

Swords were drawn, shouts woke the forest from it’s sleep and steel collided with steel.

Someone tried to grab you again and you elbowed them in the face.

Gawain recoiled from the blow to his jaw “Bloody hell, woman!”

You couldn’t believe your eyes “Gawain?!”

He stubbornly picked you up from the ground while you muttered an apology, the bow still in his hand “Up you go.”

He removed the ropes from you, cutting them loose.

If Gawain was here…

You looked to the fight that went on behind you, Gawain left your side to help Lancelot.

Well… ‘help’ was perhaps a strong description.

The Ash Man’s burning rage made him a force to be reckoned with, to the point where even the Green Knight had a hint of fear in his eyes.

He had felt your mark respond to the pain and fear they had caused you.

And now he was seeing theirs.

No, he was not merciful and lost count of the times his fist collided with the unmasked face of the one who had struck you.

Struck and bound by ropes to torment…

Their cruelty was unspeakably vile.

The guard had long since lost consciousness, the other two had perished by Lancelot’s sword.

Gawain approached him with caution “Lancelot.”

He already guessed the reason and restrained himself from continuing, standing upright to watch the blood pour from the guard’s face.

The Ash Man sank the sword into the heart of the bastard.

The same place the guard had harmed him when hurting you.

You held an arm around your stomach, it had all happened so fast and made you go quiet as a mouse.

The place was littered with bodies and blood, the horses had run off, all but one…

The black steed stood patiently waiting for it’s rider.

Gawain quietly informed him “She’s in shock, I believe.”

He nodded and walked over to you, it had been weeks since he last saw you and you did not look well “Y/n…”

Your attention snapped to him when feeling him cup your cheek.

You wanted to say that you had missed him, that you were happy he was here now…

There was so much and you couldn’t bring a word out, your throat had tightened up and your lip quivered.

Dammit, you hated crying and didn’t want to let it happen.

After his condition had improved, he had wished to go to the abbey. Gawain had talked him out of it and went to the abbey himself to deliver you a letter.

Sister Anne had been the one to tell them.

Neither men had expected to hear the news that the Trinity Guard had taken you away.

He looked you over, trying to see if there were injuries he was not aware of.

The signs of dehydration were there.

The tunic of the abbey you still wore was stained and torn.

And gods, you looked so very tired.

Did they even let you eat?

It sounded more like a statement from him “Your stomach hurts?”

You only nodded, then moved to stand against him, head resting against his shoulder.

He locked you in his arms as the first tears fell “I have you.”

Those words of comfort meant more than he could ever know.

He was scratching the back of your head in a soothing manner.

Gawain quietly watched the display, this was the same man who had killed Trinity Guards a moment ago…

And the same man who was often so quiet one would forget he was even there.

The knight waited for a moment longer before speaking “We should head back. The Abbot will have more of them scouring the woods for her.”

You grabbed hold of, by the looks of it, the new surcoat Lancelot wore “No-”

He was quick to guess your fear “You are coming with us.” and turned to Gawain who whistled for his horse to come closer.

The knight was the first to mount his brown mare and called for your attention as the two of you walked by towards Goliath ��Ride with me, y/n.” he saw the Ash Man’s glare and subtly gave the explanation “Pay attention to our surroundings, brother.”

Oh? Were you such a distraction?

He sure did not look happy, but he wouldn’t make a fuss and risk sounding a tad jealous “Fine.”

Did Gawain’s ears betray him or had that sounded similar to a certain spirited Fey boy?

The look you send Lancelot was meant to be an empathetic one, but the little tug of your lips gave it away.

And then there was that little lip bite that told him you were finding it just a bit entertaining to see his response.

To not appear too against the idea, he even helped you mount Gawain’s horse, seating you in the front.

The knight ignored the look the Ash Man send him when you didn’t see, this was not the time or place to be getting lost into each other’s eyes. And if Gawain did not keep you seperated until they got back, he feared all might actually get lost in these woods.

The mounting wasn’t simple after that punch you received, for a second nausea hit.

Lancelot had just gotten on Goliath when he noticed and steered the horse to the brown mare to talk to Gawain “If she worsens, let me know.”

Gawain gave a nod.

You didn’t want them to be so worried “I’ll be alright. Don’t worry so much.”

Lancelot was doubtful.

Gawain praised you for the strength you showed “Of course you will. You survived two weeks in the hands of the enemy, a horse ride won’t kill you.”

The Green Knight was one of those people who always carried on, no matter what life threw at him. Of course he would praise you for doing it too.

Still, the knight was not the one who’s heart would be broken if something were to happen to you.

The concern he felt was not something he could just ignore.

The praise did make you feel a bit better and you joked “They called me a menace.”

Lancelot tried to hide the chuckle under a cough and mumbled something under his breath.

Gawain pulled out the charm while riding beside the Ash Man “That is not the impression I have of you.”

He cut in, detecting the impending flattery Gawain would use “Oh, I’m afraid I have to agree with them on this.”

Your glare was aimed at him “Is that why it took two weeks for you to help me?”

It was meant as a jest, nothing more.

And yet he halted as if it had been an insult “I did not know what had happened to you until a day ago. We were on our way to free you.”

It silenced you to see him hurt by it, you shouldn’t have said something so stupid…

Gawain calmed the storm before it came to pass “Be calm, my friend. I am certain she wasn’t being serious.”

You shared a look with Lancelot, who fell silent.

His answer was meant for both “I know. Forgive me.”

You reached out for him, the tips of your fingers could just graze his arm “It’s alright. I’m so sorry. I know you were worried about me. I should not have joked about it. I would never really think that you would not do everything in your ability to help. I trust you, Lancelot. I always will.”

Lightly he took hold of those ghosting fingers “I believe the distress has taken a toll on my mood. It is not your fault.”

You hooked your index finger around his middle one “Neither is it yours.”

Another look was shared, one that made Gawain sigh loudly.

You looked over your shoulder questioningly “What? It was a misunderstanding.”

Gawain arched a brow, took your arm and moved it inward again “There will be enough time for this once we arrive at our destination.”

That caused you to ask “What is our destination?”

Gawain and Lancelot shared a prideful look.

Together with Red Spear’s crew and Arthur’s help, they had found a city once believed to be lost. It was sheltered by a forest that carried the name ‘Brécilien’, a mysterious woodland that had it’s own legend among the Fey.

The city it surrounded had once belonged to the Fey and was now returned to it’s rightful people.

The place was old, but when the Fey began the repairs, both the city and it’s withered castle slowly began to return to it’s former glory.

It was broken and burned, and it was beautiful.

There was much work to be done, but the foundations for a new future were there.

Lancelot had the honor to deliver the news “Home.”

Taglist:

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#weeping monk #Cursed The Weeping Monk #the weeping monk x reader #weepingmonk #theweepingmonk #weeping monk x you #lancelot #lancelot x reader #reader x lancelot #lancelot fic #reader/lancelot #lancelot cursed #Cursed Netflix #cursed #daniel sharman character #Daniel Sharman #you x lancelot #you x weeping monk

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